The Mysterious Island

The Mysterious Island
by Jules Verne
1874




PART 1--DROPPED FROM THE CLOUDS



Chapter 1

"Are we rising again?" "No. On the contrary." "Are we descending?" "Worse
than that, captain! we are falling!" "For Heaven's sake heave out the
ballast!" "There! the last sack is empty!" "Does the balloon rise?" "No!"
"I hear a noise like the dashing of waves. The sea is below the car! It
cannot be more than 500 feet from us!" "Overboard with every weight!
. . . everything!"

Such were the loud and startling words which resounded through the air,
above the vast watery desert of the Pacific, about four o'clock in the
evening of the 23rd of March, 1865.

Few can possibly have forgotten the terrible storm from the northeast, in
the middle of the equinox of that year. The tempest raged without
intermission from the 18th to the 26th of March. Its ravages were terrible
in America, Europe, and Asia, covering a distance of eighteen hundred
miles, and extending obliquely to the equator from the thirty-fifth north
parallel to the fortieth south parallel. Towns were overthrown, forests
uprooted, coasts devastated by the mountains of water which were
precipitated on them, vessels cast on the shore, which the published
accounts numbered by hundreds, whole districts leveled by waterspouts which
destroyed everything they passed over, several thousand people crushed on
land or drowned at sea; such were the traces of its fury, left by this
devastating tempest. It surpassed in disasters those which so frightfully
ravaged Havana and Guadalupe, one on the 25th of October, 1810, the other
on the 26th of July, 1825.

But while so many catastrophes were taking place on land and at sea, a
drama not less exciting was being enacted in the agitated air.

In fact, a balloon, as a ball might be carried on the summit of a
waterspout, had been taken into the circling movement of a column of air
and had traversed space at the rate of ninety miles an hour, turning round
and round as if seized by some aerial maelstrom.

Beneath the lower point of the balloon swung a car, containing five
passengers, scarcely visible in the midst of the thick vapor mingled with
spray which hung over the surface of the ocean.

Whence, it may be asked, had come that plaything of the tempest? From
what part of the world did it rise? It surely could not have started during
the storm. But the storm had raged five days already, and the first
symptoms were manifested on the 18th. It cannot be doubted that the balloon
came from a great distance, for it could not have traveled less than two
thousand miles in twenty-four hours.

At any rate the passengers, destitute of all marks for their guidance,
could not have possessed the means of reckoning the route traversed since
their departure. It was a remarkable fact that, although in the very midst
of the furious tempest, they did not suffer from it. They were thrown about
and whirled round and round without feeling the rotation in the slightest
degree, or being sensible that they were removed from a horizontal
position.

Their eyes could not pierce through the thick mist which had gathered
beneath the car. Dark vapor was all around them. Such was the density of
the atmosphere that they could not be certain whether it was day or night.
No reflection of light, no sound from inhabited land, no roaring of the
ocean could have reached them, through the obscurity, while suspended in
those elevated zones. Their rapid descent alone had informed them of the
dangers which they ran from the waves. However, the balloon, lightened of
heavy articles, such as ammunition, arms, and provisions, had risen into
the higher layers of the atmosphere, to a height of 4,500 feet. The
voyagers, after having discovered that the sea extended beneath them, and
thinking the dangers above less dreadful than those below, did not hesitate
to throw overboard even their most useful articles, while they endeavored
to lose no more of that fluid, the life of their enterprise, which
sustained them above the abyss.

The night passed in the midst of alarms which would have been death to
less energetic souls. Again the day appeared and with it the tempest began
to moderate. From the beginning of that day, the 24th of March, it showed
symptoms of abating. At dawn, some of the lighter clouds had risen into the
more lofty regions of the air. In a few hours the wind had changed from a
hurricane to a fresh breeze, that is to say, the rate of the transit of the
atmospheric layers was diminished by half. It was still what sailors call
"a close-reefed topsail breeze," but the commotion in the elements had none
the less considerably diminished.

Towards eleven o'clock, the lower region of the air was sensibly clearer.
The atmosphere threw off that chilly dampness which is felt after the
passage of a great meteor. The storm did not seem to have gone farther to
the west. It appeared to have exhausted itself. Could it have passed away
in electric sheets, as is sometimes the case with regard to the typhoons of
the Indian Ocean?

But at the same time, it was also evident that the balloon was again