No More Learning

Ivanhoe, already much better and chafing at his enforced inaction,
resembled the war-horse who scenteth the battle afar.

"If I could but drag myself to yonder window," he said, "that I might
see how this brave game is like to go--if I could strike but a single
blow for our deliverance! It is in vain; I am alike nerveless and
weaponless! "

"Fret not thyself, noble knight," answered Rebecca, "the sounds have
ceased of a sudden. It may be they join not battle. "

"Thou knowest naught of it," returned Wilfred, impatiently; "this dead
pause only shows that the men are at their posts on the walls and expect
an instant attack. What we have heard was but the distant muttering of
the storm, which will burst anon in all its fury. Could I but reach
yonder window! "

"Thou wilt injure thyself by the attempt, noble knight," replied the
attendant. Then she added, "I myself will stand at the lattice and
describe to you as I can what passes without. "

"You must not; you shall not! " exclaimed Ivanhoe. "Each lattice will
soon be a mark for the archers; some random shaft may strike you. At
least cover thy body with yonder ancient buckler and show as little of
thyself as may be. "

Availing herself of the protection of the large, ancient shield, which
she placed against the lower part of the window, Rebecca, with
tolerable security, could witness part of what was passing without the
castle and report to Ivanhoe the preparations being made for the
storming. From where she stood she had a full view of the outwork likely
to be the first object of the assault. It was a fortification of no
great height or strength, intended to protect the postern-gate through
which Cedric had been recently dismissed by Front-de-Boeuf. The castle
moat divided this species of barbican from the rest of the fortress, so
that, in case of its being taken, it was easy to cut off the
communication with the main building by withdrawing the temporary
bridge. In the outwork was a sally-port corresponding to the postern of
the castle, and the whole was surrounded by a strong palisade. From the
mustering of the assailants in a direction nearly opposite the outwork,
it seemed plain that this point had been selected for attack.

Rebecca communicated this to Ivanhoe, and added, "The skirts of the wood
seem lined with archers, although only a few are advanced from its dark
shadow. "

"Under what banner? " asked Ivanhoe.

"Under no ensign of war which I can observe," answered Rebecca.

"A singular novelty," muttered the knight, "to advance to storm such a
castle without pennon or banner displayed! Seest thou who they are that
act as leaders? Or, are all of them but stout yeomen? "

"A knight clad in sable armor is the most conspicuous," she replied; "he
alone is armed from head to foot, and he seems to assume the direction
of all around him. "

"Seem there no other leaders? " demanded the anxious inquirer.

"None of mark and distinction that I can behold from this station," said
Rebecca. "They appear even now preparing to attack. God of Zion protect
us! What a dreadful sight! Those who advance first bear huge shields and
defenses made of plank; the others follow, bending their bows as they
come on. They raise their bows! God of Moses, forgive the creatures thou
hast made! "

Her description was suddenly interrupted by the signal for assault,
which was the blast of a shrill bugle, at once answered by a flourish of
the Norman trumpets from the battlements. The shouts of both parties
augmented the fearful din, the assailants crying, "Saint George for
merry England! " and the Normans answering them with cries of
"[v]_Beauseant! Beauseant! _"

It was not, however, by clamor that the contest was to be decided, and
the desperate efforts of the assailants were met by an equally vigorous
defense on the part of the besieged. The archers, trained by their
woodland pastimes to the most effective use of the longbow, shot so
rapidly and accurately that no point at which a defender could show the
least part of his person escaped their [v]cloth-yard shafts. By this
heavy discharge, which continued as thick and sharp as hail, two or
three of the garrison were slain and several others wounded. But,
confident in their armor of proof and in the cover which their situation
afforded, the followers of Front-de-Boeuf, and his allies, showed an
obstinacy in defense proportioned to the fury of the attack, replying
with the discharge of their large cross-bows to the close and continued
shower of arrows. As the assailants were necessarily but indifferently
protected, they received more damage than they did.

"And I must lie here like a bedridden monk," exclaimed Ivanhoe, "while
the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hands of
others! Look from the window once again, kind maiden, but beware that
you are not marked by the archers beneath--look out once more and tell
me if they yet advance to the storm. "

With patient courage, Rebecca again took post at the lattice.

"What dost thou see? " demanded the wounded knight.

"Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes
and hide the bowmen who shoot them. "

"That cannot endure," remarked Ivanhoe. "If they press not on to carry
the castle by pure force of arms, the archery may avail but little
against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the sable knight and see how
he bears himself, for as the leader is, so will his followers be. "

"I see him not," said Rebecca.

"Foul craven! " exclaimed Ivanhoe; "does he blench from the helm when the
wind blows highest? "

"He blenches not! he blenches not! " cried Rebecca. "I see him now; he
heads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbican. They
pull down the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes.
His high black plume floats over the throng, like a raven over the field
of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers--they rush
in--they are thrust back! Front-de-Boeuf heads the defenders; I see his
gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach, and the
pass is disputed hand to hand, and man to man. Have mercy, God! "

She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable longer to endure a
sight so terrible.

"Look forth again, Rebecca," urged Ivanhoe, mistaking the cause of her
retiring; "the archery must in some degree have ceased, since they are
now fighting hand to hand. Look again; there is less danger. "

Rebecca again looked forth and almost immediately exclaimed: "Holy
prophets of the law! Front-de-Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to
hand in the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the
progress of the strife. " She then uttered a loud shriek, "He is down! he
is down! "

"Who is down? " cried Ivanhoe; "tell me which has fallen? "

"The Black Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly; then shouted with joyful
eagerness, "But no--the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed! --he is on
foot again and fights as if there were twenty men's strength in his
single arm. His sword is broken--he snatches an ax from a yeoman--he
presses Front-de-Boeuf with blow on blow. The giant stoops and totters
like an oak under the steel of a woodsman--he falls--he falls! "

"Front-de-Boeuf? " exclaimed Ivanhoe.

"Front-de-Boeuf! " answered the Jewess. "His men rush to the rescue,
headed by the haughty Templar--their united force compels the champion
to pause--they drag Front-de-Boeuf within the walls. "

"The assailants have won the barriers, have they not? " Ivanhoe eagerly
queried.

"They have! they have! " answered Rebecca; "and they press the besieged
hard on the outer wall. Some plant ladders, some swarm like bees and
endeavor to ascend upon the shoulders of each other. Down go stones,
beams, and trunks of trees on their heads, and as fast as they bear the
wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places. Great God! hast thou
given men thine own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the
hands of their brethren! "

"Think not of that," said Ivanhoe. "This is no time for such thoughts.
Who yield--who push their way? "

"The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, shuddering; "the
soldiers lie groveling under them like crushed reptiles; the besieged
have the better. "

"Saint George strike for us! " exclaimed the knight; "do the false yeomen
give way? "

"No," exclaimed Rebecca, "they bear themselves right yeomanly--the Black
Knight approaches the postern with his huge ax--the thundering blows he
deals you may hear above all the din of the battle. Stones and beams are
hailed down on the bold champion--he regards them no more than if they
were thistle-down or feathers! "

"By Saint John of Acre," cried Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his
couch, "methought there was but one man in England that might do such a
deed! "

"The postern-gate shakes," continued Rebecca; "it crashes--it is
splintered by his blows--they rush in--the outwork is won! Oh, God! they
hurl the defenders from the battlements--they throw them into the
moat--men, if ye indeed be men, spare them that can resist no longer! "

"The bridge--the bridge which communicates with the castle--have they
won that pass? "

"No," replied Rebecca. "The Templar has destroyed the plank on which
they crossed--few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle--the
shrieks and cries you hear tell the fate of the others! Alas! I see it
is more difficult to look on victory than on battle. "

"What do they now, maiden? " asked Ivanhoe. "Look forth yet again; this
is no time to faint at bloodshed. "

"It is over for the time," answered Rebecca. "Our friends strengthen
themselves within the outwork which they have mastered; it affords them
so good a shelter from the foeman's shot that the garrison only bestow a
few bolts on it from interval to interval, as if to disquiet rather than
to injure them. "

"Our friends," said Wilfred, "will surely not abandon an enterprise so
gloriously begun and so happily attained. Oh, no! I will put my faith in
the good knight whose ax hath rent heart-of-oak and bars of iron. "


VI

During the interval of quiet which followed the first success of the
besiegers, the Black Knight was employed in causing to be constructed a
sort of floating bridge, or long raft, by means of which he hoped to
cross the moat in despite of the resistance of the enemy. This was a
work of some time.

When the raft was completed, the Black Knight addressed the besiegers:
"It avails not waiting here longer, my friends; the sun is descending in
the west, and I may not tarry for another day. Besides, it will be a
marvel if the horsemen do not come upon us from York, unless we speedily
accomplish our purpose. Wherefore, one of you go to Locksley and bid him
commence a discharge of arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and
move forward as if about to assault it; while you, true Englishmen,
stand by me and be ready to thrust the raft end-long over the moat
whenever the postern on our side is thrown open. Follow me boldly
across, and aid me to burst yon sally-port in the main wall of the
castle. As many of you as like not this service, or are but ill-armed,
do you man the top of the outwork, draw your bowstrings to your ears and
quell with your shot whoever shall appear upon the rampant. Noble
Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those that remain? "

"Not so," answered the Saxon. "Lead I cannot, but my posterity curse me
in my grave if I follow not with the foremost wherever thou shalt point
the way! "

"Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon," said the knight, "thou hast neither
hauberk nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet, [v]target, and
sword. "

"The better," replied Cedric; "I shall be the lighter to climb these
walls. And--forgive the boast, sir knight--thou shalt this day see the
naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever you
beheld the steel corslet of a Norman warrior. "

"In the name of God, then," said the knight, "fling open the door and
launch the floating bridge! "

The portal which led from the inner wall of the barbican, now held by
the besiegers, to the moat and corresponded with a sally-port in the
main wall of the castle was suddenly opened. The temporary bridge was
immediately thrust forward and extended its length between the castle
and outwork, forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men
abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the
foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw
himself upon the bridge and reached the opposite shore. Here he began to
thunder with his ax on the gate of the castle, protected in part from
the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former
drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the
barbican, leaving the [v]counterpoise still attached to the upper part
of the portal. The followers of the knight had no such shelter; two were
instantly shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the moat.
The others retreated back into the barbican.

[Illustration: [See page 323]

He Began to Thunder on the Gate]

The situation of Cedric and the Black Knight was now truly dangerous and
would have been still more so but for the constancy of the archers in
the barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows on the battlements,
distracting the attention of those by whom they were manned and thus
affording a respite to their two chiefs from the storm of missiles,
which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their situation was
eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment.

"Shame on ye all! " cried De Bracy to the soldiers around him; "do ye
call yourselves cross-bowmen and let these two dogs keep their station
under the walls of the castle? Heave over the coping stones from the
battlement, an better may not be. Get pick-ax and levers and down with
that huge pinnacle! " pointing to a heavy piece of stone-carved work that
projected from the parapet.

At this moment Locksley whipped up the courage of his men.

"Saint George for England! " he cried. "To the charge, bold yeomen! Why
leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to storm the pass alone? Make
in, yeomen! The castle is taken. Think of honor; think of spoil. One
effort and the place is ours. "

With that he bent his good bow and sent a shaft right through the breast
of one of the men-at-arms, who, under De Bracy's direction, was
loosening a fragment from one of the battlements to precipitate on the
heads of Cedric and the Black Knight. A second soldier caught from the
hands of the dying man the iron crow, with which he had heaved up and
loosened the stone pinnacle, when, receiving an arrow through his
headpiece, he dropped from the battlement into the moat a dead man. The
men-at-arms were daunted, for no armor seemed proof against the shot of
this tremendous archer.

"Do you give ground, base knaves? " cried De Bracy. "[v]_Mountjoy Saint
Dennis_! Give me the lever. "

Snatching it up, he again assailed the loosened pinnacle, which was of
weight enough, if thrown down, not only to have destroyed the remnant of
the drawbridge, which sheltered the two foremost assailants, but also to
have sunk the rude float of planks over which they had crossed. All saw
the danger, and the boldest, even the stout friar himself, avoided
setting a foot on the raft. Thrice did Locksley bend his shaft against
De Bracy, and thrice did his arrow bound back from the knight's armor of
proof.

"Curse on thy Spanish steel-coat! " said Locksley; "had English smith
forged it, these arrows had gone through it as if it had been silk. " He
then began to call out: "Comrades! friends! noble Cedric! bear back and
let the ruin fall. "

His warning voice was unheard, for the din which the Black Knight
himself occasioned by his strokes upon the postern would have drowned
twenty war-trumpets. The faithful Gurth indeed sprang forward on the
planked bridge to warn Cedric of his impending fate, or to share it with
him. But his warning would have come too late; the massive pinnacle
already tottered, and De Bracy, who still heaved at his task, would have
accomplished it, had not the voice of the Templar sounded close in his
ear.

"All is lost, De Bracy; the castle burns. "

"Thou art mad to say so," replied the knight.

"It is all in a light flame on the western side," returned
Bois-Guilbert. "I have striven in vain to extinguish it. "

"What is to be done? " cried De Bracy. "I vow to Saint Nicholas of
Limoges a candlestick of pure gold--"

"Spare thy vow," said the Templar, "and mark me. Lead thy men down, as
if to a sally; throw the postern-gate open. There are but two men who
occupy the float; fling them into the moat and push across to the
barbican. I will charge from the main gate and attack the barbican on
the outside. If we can regain that post, we shall defend ourselves until
we are relieved or, at least, until they grant us fair quarter. "

"It is well thought upon," replied De Bracy; "I will play my part. "

De Bracy hastily drew his men together and rushed down to the
postern-gate, which he caused instantly to be thrown open. Scarce was
this done ere the portentous strength of the Black Knight forced his
way inward in despite of De Bracy and his followers. Two of the foremost
instantly fell, and the rest gave way, notwithstanding all their
leader's efforts to stop them.

"Dogs! " cried De Bracy; "will ye let two men win our only pass for
safety? "

"He is the devil! " replied a veteran man-at-arms, bearing back from the
blows of their sable antagonist.

"And if he be the devil," said De Bracy, "would you fly from him into
the mouth of hell? The castle burns behind us, villains! Let despair
give you courage, or let me forward. I will cope with this champion
myself. "

And well and chivalrously did De Bracy that day maintain the fame he had
acquired in the civil wars of that dreadful period. The vaulted passages
in which the two redoubted champions were now fighting hand to hand rang
with the furious blows they dealt each other, De Bracy with his sword,
the Black Knight with his ponderous ax.
At length the Norman received a
blow, which, though its force was partly parried by his shield,
descended yet with such violence on his crest that he measured his
length on the paved floor.

"Yield thee, De Bracy," said the Black Knight, stooping over him and
holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal poniard with which
knights despatched their enemies; "yield thee, Maurice de Bracy, rescue
or no rescue, or thou art but a dead man. Speak! "

The gallant Norman, seeing the hopelessness of further resistance,
yielded, and was allowed to rise.

"Let me tell thee what it imports thee to know," he said. "Wilfred of
Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will perish in the burning castle
without present help. "

"Wilfred of Ivanhoe! " exclaimed the Black Knight. "The life of every man
in the castle shall answer if a hair of his head be singed. Show me his
chamber! "

"Ascend yonder stair," directed De Bracy. "It leads to his apartment. "

The turret was now in bright flames, which flashed out furiously from
window and shot-hole. But, in other parts, the great thickness of the
walls and the vaulted roofs of the apartments resisted the progress of
the fire, and there the rage of man still triumphed; for the besiegers
pursued the defenders of the castle from chamber to chamber. Most of the
garrison resisted to the uttermost; few of them asked quarter--none
received it. The air was filled with groans and the clashing of arms.

Through this scene of confusion the Black Knight rushed in quest of
Ivanhoe, whom he found in Rebecca's charge. The knight, picking up the
wounded man as if he were a child, bore him quickly to safety. In the
meantime, Cedric had gone in search of Rowena, followed by the faithful
Gurth. The noble Saxon was so fortunate as to reach his ward's
apartment just as she had abandoned all hope of safety and sat in
expectation of instant death. He committed her to the charge of Gurth,
to be carried without the castle. The loyal Cedric then hastened in
quest of his friend Athelstane, determined at every risk to himself to
save the prince. But ere Cedric penetrated as far as the old hall in
which he himself had been a prisoner, the inventive genius of Wamba had
procured liberation for himself and his companion.

When the noise of the conflict announced that it was at the hottest, the
jester began to shout with the utmost power of his lungs, "Saint George
and the Dragon! Bonny Saint George for merry England! The castle is
won! " These sounds he rendered yet more fearful by banging against each
other two or three pieces of rusty armor which lay scattered around the
hall.

The guards at once ran to tell the Templar that foemen had entered the
old hall. Meantime the prisoners found no difficulty in making their
escape into the court of the castle, which was now the last scene of the
contest. Here sat the fierce Templar, mounted on horseback and
surrounded by several of the garrison, who had united their strength in
order to secure the last chance of safety and retreat which remained to
them. The principal, and now the single remaining drawbridge, had been
lowered by his orders, but the passage was beset; for the archers, who
had hitherto only annoyed the castle on that side by their missiles, no
sooner saw the flames breaking out and the bridge lowered than they
thronged to the entrance. On the other hand, a party of the besiegers
who had entered by the postern on the opposite side were now issuing
into the court-yard and attacking with fury the remnant of the defenders
in the rear.

Animated, however, by despair and the example of their gallant leader,
the remaining soldiers of the castle fought with the utmost valor; and,
being well armed, they succeeded in driving back the assailants.

Crying aloud, "Those who would save themselves, follow me! "
Bois-Guilbert pushed across the drawbridge, dispersing the archers who
would have stopped them. He was followed by the Saracen slaves and some
five or six men-at-arms, who had mounted their horses. The Templar's
retreat was rendered perilous by the number of arrows shot at him and
his party; but this did not prevent him from galloping round to the
barbican, where he expected to find De Bracy.

"De Bracy! " he shouted, "art thou there? "

"I am here," answered De Bracy, "but a prisoner. "

"Can I rescue thee? " cried Bois-Guilbert.

"No," said the other. "I have rendered myself. "

Upon hearing this, the Templar galloped off with his followers, leaving
the besiegers in complete possession of the castle.

Fortunately, by this time all the prisoners had been rescued and stood
together without the castle, while the yeomen ran through the apartments
seeking to save from the devouring flames such valuables as might be
found. They were soon driven out by the fiery element. The towering
flames surmounted every obstruction and rose to the evening skies one
huge and burning beacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent country.
Tower after tower crashed down, with blazing roof and rafter.

The victors, assembling in large bands, gazed with wonder not unmixed
with fear upon the flames, in which their own ranks and arms glanced
dusky red. The voice of Locksley was at length heard, "Shout, yeomen!
the den of tyrants is no more! Let each bring his spoil to the tree in
Hart-hill Walk, for there we will make just partition among ourselves,
together with our worthy allies in this great deed of vengeance. "

SIR WALTER SCOTT.


=HELPS TO STUDY=

I. Tell what you find out about Cedric and his son, Ivanhoe, or the
"Disinherited Knight. " What impression do you get of Cedric's
character? of Athelstane's? What was the first adventure the
travelers had? Who was "the sick friend" the Jews were assisting?
What further adventure befell the travelers? How did Gurth show his
true character? Who came to the aid of Gurth and Wamba? What did
Wamba mean by "whether they be thy children's coats or no"? What
impression do you get of the stranger? Describe the scene in the
hermit's abode. What impression do you get of him? Of the Black
Knight?

II. Who had made Cedric's party prisoners? Why? Tell what Cedric
said when he discovered who his captors were. What disposition was
made of the prisoners? Describe the scene in Isaac's cell. How was
Front-de-Boeuf interrupted?

III. What challenge did the knights receive? How did they answer
it?

IV. Who came in the character of a priest? What plan did he carry
out? How? How did Cedric act his part? Describe the scene when the
escape was discovered. How was Front-de-Boeuf prevented from doing
Wamba harm?

V. How did Ivanhoe fall to the care of Rebecca? Where did Rebecca
take her station? Describe the scenes she saw. What knight led the
assault? How did Rebecca describe him? Can you guess who the Black
Knight was? Whom did Ivanhoe think of when he said, "Methought
there was but one man in England that might do such a deed"?

VI. What plan did the Black Knight make? How was it executed? Which
of the assailants proved themselves especial heroes? What was De
Bracy's plan? How was its accomplishment prevented? What plan for
escape did the Templar have? How did it end? Tell how Ivanhoe,
Rowena, Athelstane and Wamba were liberated. Tell what became of
the knights. Who do you think Locksley was?

All of the party were rescued except Rebecca, who was carried off
by Bois-Guilbert and accused of witchcraft. You will have to read
the novel, _Ivanhoe_, to learn of the further adventures of her,
Rowena, the Black Knight, and Ivanhoe.


SUPPLEMENTARY READING

The Talisman--Sir Walter Scott.
The White Company--A. Conan Doyle.
When Knighthood Was in Flower--Charles Major.
The Last of the Barons--Edward Bulwer-Lytton.
Don Quixote--Miguel de Cervantes.
The Idylls of the King--Alfred Tennyson.
Scottish Chiefs--Jane Porter.




SEA FEVER


I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown [v]spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted
knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

JOHN MASEFIELD.




A GREYPORT LEGEND


They ran through the streets of the seaport town;
They peered from the decks of the ships that lay:
The cold sea-fog that comes whitening down
Was never as cold or white as they.
"Ho, Starbuck, and Pinckney, and Tenterden,
Run for your shallops, gather your men,
Scatter your boats on the lower bay! "

Good cause for fear! In the thick midday
The hulk that lay by the rotting pier,
Filled with the children in happy play,
Parted its moorings and drifted clear;
Drifted clear beyond reach or call,--
Thirteen children they were in all,--
All adrift in the lower bay!

Said a hard-faced skipper, "God help us all!
She will not float till the turning tide! "
Said his wife, "My darling will hear _my_ call,
Whether in sea or heaven she abide! "
And she lifted a quavering voice and high,
Wild and strange as a sea-bird's cry,
Till they shuddered and wondered at her side.

The fog drove down on each laboring crew,
Veiled each from each and the sky and shore;
There was not a sound but the breath they drew,
And the lap of water and creak of oar.
And they felt the breath of the downs fresh blown
O'er leagues of clover and cold gray stone,
But not from the lips that had gone before.

They came no more. But they tell the tale
That, when fogs are thick on the harbor reef,
The mackerel-fishers shorten sail;
For the signal they know will bring relief,
For the voices of children, still at play
In a phantom-hulk that drifts alway
Through channels whose waters never fail.

It is but a foolish shipman's tale,
A theme for a poet's idle page;
But still, when the mists of doubt prevail,
And we lie becalmed by the shores of age,
We hear from the misty troubled shore
The voice of the children gone before,
Drawing the soul to its anchorage!

BRET HARTE.


=HELPS TO STUDY=

Read the poem and tell the story found in it. Why was every one so
"cold and white"? What was the great danger? What happened to
prevent the sailors' getting to the hulk? What is the tale that is
told? What is the thought the poet leaves with us in the last
stanza?




A HUNT BENEATH THE OCEAN


This story is taken from _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_,
the book that foreshadowed the modern submarine. Monsieur Aronnax,
a scientist, with two companions, Ned Land and Conseil, was rescued
at sea by a strange craft, the _Nautilus_, owned and commanded by
one Captain Nemo, who hated mankind and never went ashore on
inhabited land. Monsieur Aronnax remained on the submarine for
months in a kind of captivity and met with many wonderful
adventures. It should be noted that modern inventions have already
outstripped many of the author's imaginings.

On returning to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found upon my table a
note addressed to me. I opened it impatiently. It was written in a bold
clear hand, and ran as follows:

"November 16, 1867.

To Professor Aronnax, on board the _Nautilus_:

Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting party, which will
take place to-morrow morning in the forest of the island of Crespo. He
hopes that nothing will prevent the professor from being present, and he
will with pleasure see him joined by his companions. "

"A hunt! " exclaimed Ned.

"And in the forests of the island of Crespo! " added Conseil.

"Oh, then the gentleman is going on [v]_terra firma_? " asked Ned Land.

"That seems to be clearly indicated," said I, reading the letter once
more.

"Well, we must accept," said Ned. "Once more on dry land, we shall know
what to do. Indeed, I shall not be sorry to eat a piece of fresh
venison. "

I contented myself with replying, "Let us see where the island of Crespo
is. "

I consulted the [v]planisphere and in 32° 40' north latitude, and 157°
50' west [v]longitude, I found a small island recognized in 1801 by
Captain Crespo, and marked in the ancient Spanish maps as Rocca de la
Platta, or Silver Rock.

I showed this little rock lost in the midst of the North Pacific to my
companions.

"If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground," said I, "he at least
chooses desert islands. "

Ned Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and Conseil and he
left me. After supper, which was served by the steward, mute and
impassive, I went to bed, not without some anxiety.

The next morning, the 7th of November, I felt on awakening that the
_Nautilus_ was perfectly still. I dressed quickly and entered the
saloon. Captain Nemo was there, waiting for me. He rose, bowed, and
asked me if it was convenient for me to accompany him. I simply replied
that my companions and myself were ready to follow him.

We entered the room where breakfast was served.

"M. Aronnax," said the captain, "pray share my breakfast without
ceremony; we will chat as we eat. Though I promised you a walk in the
forest, I did not undertake to find hotels there; so breakfast as a man
should who will most likely not have his dinner till very late. "

I did honor to the repast. It was composed of several kinds of fish, and
different sorts of seaweed. Our drink consisted of pure water, to which
the captain added some drops of a fermented liquor extracted from a
seaweed. Captain Nemo ate at first without saying a word. Then he began:

"Professor, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine forest of
Crespo, you evidently thought me mad. Sir, you should never judge
lightly of any man. "

"But, captain, believe me--"

"Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether you have any
cause to accuse me of folly and contradiction. "

"I listen. "

"You know as well as I do, professor, that man can live under water,
providing he carries with him a sufficient supply of breathable air. In
submarine works, the workman, clad in an [v]impervious dress, with his
head in a metal helmet, receives air from above by means of
forcing-pumps and [v]regulators. "

"That is a diving apparatus," said I.

"Just so. But under these conditions the man is not at liberty; he is
attached to the pump which sends him air through a rubber tube, and if
we were obliged to be thus held to the _Nautilus_, we could not go far. "

"And the means of getting free? " I asked.

"It is to use the Rouquayrol apparatus, invented by two of your own
countrymen, which I have brought to perfection for my own use and which
will allow you to risk yourself without any organ of the body suffering.
It consists of a reservoir of thick iron plates, in which I store the
air under a pressure of fifty [v]atmospheres. This reservoir is fixed on
the back by means of braces, like a soldier's knapsack. Its upper part
forms a box in which the air is kept by means of a bellows, and
therefore cannot escape unless at its [v]normal tension. In the
Rouquayrol apparatus such as we use, two rubber pipes leave this box and
join a sort of tent which holds the nose and mouth; one is to introduce
fresh air, the other to let out foul, and the tongues close one or the
other pipe according to the wants of the [v]respirator. But I, in
encountering great pressures at the bottom of the sea, was obliged to
shut my head like that of a diver in a ball of copper; and it is into
this ball of copper that the two pipes, the inspirator and the
expirator, open. Do you see? "

"Perfectly, Captain Nemo. But the air that you carry with you must soon
be used; when it contains only fifteen per cent of oxygen it is no
longer fit to breathe. "

"Right! But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of the _Nautilus_
allow me to store the air under considerable pressure; and the reservoir
of the apparatus can furnish breathable air for nine or ten hours. "

"I have no further objections to make," I answered. "I will only ask one
thing, captain--how can you light your road at the bottom of the sea?