CHAPTER X.A SEARCH FOR ALGERIA.
The Dobryna, a strong craft of 200 tons burden, had been
built in the famous ship-building yards in the Isle of
Wight. Her sea-going qualities were excellent, and would
have amply sufficed for a circumnavigation of the globe;
in fact, the ships in which Columbus and Magellan took
their voyages across the Atlantic were far inferior both in
size and in construction. Her store-compartments were
capacious, and carried provisions enough for several months,
so that she was quite capable of making the entire circuit
of the Mediterranean without any necessity for re-victualling.
Neither was there any occasion for her to take in
fresh ballast at Gourbi Island. The weight of the water
had diminished in precisely the same ratio as that of
all material objects, consequently the conditions of the
schooner's gravity remained undisturbed.
Count Timascheff was himself no sailor, but had the
greatest confidence in leaving the command of his yacht
in the hands of Lieutenant Procope, a man of about thirty
years of age, and an excellent seaman.
Born on the count's estates, the son of a serf who had
been emancipated long before the famous edict of the
Emperor Alexander, Procope was sincerely attached, by
a tie of gratitude as well as of duty and affection, to his
patron's service. After an apprenticeship on a merchant
ship he had entered the imperial navy, and had already
reached the rank of lieutenant when the count appointed
him to the charge of his own private yacht, in which
he was accustomed to spend by far the greater part of
his time, throughout the winter generally cruising in the
Mediterranean, whilst in the summer he visited more
northern waters.
The ship could not have been in better hands. The
lieutenant was well informed in many matters outside
the pale of his profession, and his attainments were
alike creditable to himself and to the liberal friend who
had given him his education. He had an excellent crew,
consisting of Tiglew the engineer, four sailors named
Niegoch, Tolstoy, Etkef, and Panofka, and Mochel the
cook. These men, without exception, were all sons of the
count's tenants, and so tenaciously, even out at sea, did
they cling to their old traditions, that it mattered little to
them what physical disorganization ensued, so long as they
felt they were sharing the experiences of their lord and
master. The late astounding events, however, had rendered
Procope manifestly uneasy, and not the less so from
his consciousness that the count secretly partook of his
own anxiety.
Steam up and canvas spread, the schooner started eastwards.
With a favourable wind she would certainly have
made eleven knots an hour had not the high waves somewhat
impeded her progress. Although only a moderate
breeze was blowing, the sea was rough, a circumstance to
be accounted for only by the diminution in the force of the
earth's attraction rendering the liquid particles so buoyant,
that by the mere effect of oscillation they were carried to a
height that was quite unprecedented. M. Arago has fixed
twenty-five or twenty-six feet as the maximum elevation
ever attained by the highest waves, and his astonishment
would have been very great to see them rising fifty or even
sixty feet. Nor did these waves in the usual way partially
unfurl themselves and rebound against the sides of
the vessel; they might rather be described as long undulations
carrying the schooner (its weight diminished from
the same cause as that of the water) alternately to such
heights and depths, that if Captain Servadac had been
subject to sea-sickness he must have found himself in sorry
plight. As the pitching, however, was the result of a long
uniform swell, the yacht did not labour much harder than
she would against the ordinary short strong waves of the
Mediterranean; the main inconvenience that was experienced
was the diminution in her proper rate of speed.
For a few miles she followed the line hitherto presumably
occupied by the coast of Algeria; but no land
appeared to the south. The changed positions of the
planets rendered them of no avail for purposes of nautical
observation, nor could Lieutenant Procope calculate his
latitude and longitude by the altitude of the sun, as his
reckonings would be useless when applied to charts that had
been constructed for the old order of things; but nevertheless,
by means of the log, which gave him the rate of progress,
and by the compass, which indicated the direction
in which they were sailing, he was able to form an estimate
of his position that was sufficiently free from error for his
immediate need.
Happily the recent phenomena had no effect upon the
compass; the magnetic needle, which in these regions had
pointed about 22° from the north pole, had never deviated
in the least—a proof that, although east and west had
apparently changed places, north and south continued to
retain their normal position as cardinal points. The log
and the compass, therefore, were able to be called upon
to do the work of the sextant, which had become utterly
useless.
On the first morning of the cruise Lieutenant Procope,
who, like most Russians, spoke French fluently, was explaining
these peculiarities to Captain Servadac; the count
was present, and the conversation perpetually recurred, as
naturally it would, to the phenomena which remained so
inexplicable to them all.
“It is very evident,” said the lieutenant, “that ever
since the 1st of January the earth has been moving in a
new orbit, and from some unknown cause has drawn
nearer to the sun.”
“No doubt about that,” said Servadac; “and I suppose
that, having crossed the orbit of Venus, we have a
good chance of running into the orbit of Mercury.”
“And finish up by a collision with the sun!” added
the count.
“Terrible destruction!” exclaimed Servadac, with a
shudder.
“There is no fear of that, Captain Servadac. The earth
has undoubtedly entered upon a new orbit, but she is not
incurring any probable risk of being precipitated on to
the sun.”
“Can you satisfy us of that?” asked the count.
“I can, sir. I can give you a proof which I think you
will own is conclusive. If, as you suppose, the earth is
being drawn on so as to be precipitated against the sun,
the great centre of attraction of our system, it could only
be because the centrifugal and centripetal forces that cause
the planets to rotate in their several orbits had been entirely
suspended: in that case, indeed, the earth would
rush onwards towards the sun, and in sixty-four days
and a half the catastrophe you dread would inevitably
happen.”
“And what demonstration do you offer,” asked Servadac
eagerly, “that it will not happen?”
“Simply this, captain: that since the earth entered
her new orbit half the sixty-four days has already elapsed,
and yet it is only just recently that she has crossed the
orbit of Venus, hardly one-third of the distance to be traversed
to reach the sun.”
The lieutenant paused to allow time for reflection, and
added: “Moreover, I have every reason to believe that
we are not so near the sun as we have been. The temperature
has been gradually diminishing; the heat upon
Gourbi Island is not greater now than we might ordinarily
expect to find in Algeria in lat. 36°. At the same time,
we have the problem still unsolved that the Mediterranean
has evidently been transported to the equatorial
zone.”
Both the count and the captain expressed themselves
reassured by his representations, and observed that they
must now do all in their power to discover what had
become of the vast continent of Africa, of which they were
hitherto failing so completely to find a vestige.
Twenty-four hours after leaving the island, the Dobryna
had passed over the sites where Tenes, Cherchil, Koleah,
and Sidi-Feruch once had been, but of these towns not
one appeared within range of the telescope. Ocean reigned
supreme.
Lieutenant Procope, however, was absolutely certain
that he had not mistaken his direction; the compass
showed that the wind had never shifted from the west, and
this, with the rate of speed as estimated by the log, com
bined to assure him that at this date, the 2nd of February,
the schooner was in lat. 36°49' N. and long. 3°25' E.,
the very spot which ought to have been occupied by the
Algerian capital. But Algiers, like all the other coast-towns,
had apparently been absorbed into the bowels of
the earth.
Captain Servadac, with clenched teeth and knitted
brow, stood sternly, almost fiercely, regarding the boundless
waste of water. His pulses beat fast as he recalled the
friends and comrades with whom he had spent the last
few years in that vanished city. All the images of his
past life floated upon his memory; his thoughts sped
away to his native France, only to return again to wonder
whether the depths of ocean would reveal any traces of
the Algerian metropolis.
“Is it not impossible,” he murmured aloud, “that any
city should disappear so completely? Would not the
loftiest eminences of the city at least be visible? Surely
some portion of the Casbah must still rise above the waves?
The imperial fort, too, was built upon an elevation of 750
feet; it is incredible that it should be so totally submerged.
Unless some vestiges of these are found, I shall begin to
suspect that the whole of Africa has been swallowed in
some vast abyss.”
Another circumstance was most remarkable. Not a
material object of any kind was to be noticed floating on
the surface of the water; not one branch of a tree had
been seen drifting by, nor one spar belonging to one of
the numerous vessels that a month previously had been
moored in the magnificent bay which stretched twelve
miles across from Cape Matafuz to Point Pexade. Perhaps
the depths might disclose what the surface failed to
reveal, and Count Timascheff, anxious that Servadac should
have every facility afforded him for solving his doubts,
called for the sounding-line. Forthwith, the lead was
greased and lowered. To the surprise of all, and especially
of Lieutenant Procope, the line indicated a bottom at
a nearly uniform depth of from four to five fathoms; and
although the sounding was persevered with continuously
for more than two hours over a considerable area, the
differences of level were insignificant, not corresponding
in any degree to what would be expected over the site of
a city that had been terraced like the seats of an amphitheatre.
Astounding as it seemed, what alternative was
left but to suppose that the Algerian capital had been
completely levelled by the flood?
The sea-bottom was composed of neither rock, mud,
sand, nor shells; the sounding-lead brought up nothing
but a kind of metallic dust, which glittered with a strange
iridescence, and the nature of which it was impossible to
determine, as it was totally unlike what had ever been
known to be raised from the bed of the Mediterranean.
“You must see, lieutenant, I should think, that we are
not so near the coast of Algeria as you imagined.”
The lieutenant shook his head. After pondering
awhile, he said:
“If we were farther away I should expect to find a
depth of two or three hundred fathoms instead of five
fathoms. Five fathoms! I confess I am puzzled.”
Hereupon Servadac begged the count to give instructions
for the voyage to be prosecuted towards the south, in
order that they might make a more effective search for the
coast which so thoroughly eluded their discovery.
After satisfying himself by a short conference with
Lieutenant Procope that the weather would permit such a
change of course, the count acceded to the request. South
wards, accordingly, the Dobryna’s stem was turned.
For the next thirty-six hours, until the 4th of February,
the sea was examined and explored with the most
unflagging perseverance. Its depth remained invariable,
still four, or at most five, fathoms; and although its bottom
was assiduously dredged, it was only to prove it barren of
marine production of any type.
The yacht made its way to lat. 36°, and by reference to
the charts it was tolerably certain that she was cruising
over the site of the Sahel, the ridge that had separated
the rich plain of the Mitidja from the sea, and of which
the highest peak. Mount Boujereah, had reached an altitude
of 1200 feet; but even this peak, which might have been
expected to emerge like an islet above the surface of the
sea, was nowhere to be traced.
Onwards still steamed the Dobryna, beyond the site of
Douera, the principal village of the Sahel; beyond Boufarick,
where spreading plane-trees had shaded the spacious
streets; beyond Blidah, of which not even the fort (a
thousand feet and more higher than Oued-el-Kebir) survived;—beyond
all these, still southwards, until Lieutenant
Procope, fearful of venturing farther upon this unknown
ocean, entreated that he might be allowed to shift his course
to the east, or retrace it to the north; and it was only
upon Servadac's urgent persuasion that he was induced to
extend his exploration as far as the mountains of Mouzaïa,
the legendary grottoes formerly frequented by the Kabyles,
the haunt of lions, hyenas, and jackals, and where gigantic
oaks and marvellous bread-fruit trees had flourished in
abundance. Surely, it was urged, those lofty summits,
which within six weeks had been seen soaring to an
altitude of nearly 5000 feet, would be still conspicuous
above the waves. But no; sea and sky were all that the
keenest vision could compass, and nothing was to be done
but to put about, and return in disappointment towards
the north.
Thus the Dobryna regained the waters of the Mediterranean
without discovering a trace of the missing province
of Algeria.
