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 plants of earth, those fixed to the rocks all grew downwards.

The lights we carried produced a thousand beautiful effects amid those coloured branches. It appeared to me that the membranous and cylindrical tubes trembled at the undulation of the water. I was tempted to collect some of these beautiful fresh corals with such delicate tentacles, some newly opened, some just sprouting, which the fish, with rapid fins, moved as they passed, as a bird might move the twigs of the trees. But as my hand approached these living flowers, these sensitive plants, all were immediately on the alert. The white corals retired into their red cases, the flowers disappeared from my sight, and the “coppice” was changed into a block of stony hills.

Chance put me in possession of the most valuable specimens of this zoophyte. The coral is equal to that found in the Mediterranean, on the French, Italian, and Barbary coasts. It fully justifies its names of “Fleur de sang” and “Écume de sang,” which trade has bestowed upon the most beautiful kinds. Coral is sold at 500 francs the kilogramme; and in this spot the beds would have made the fortunes of a thousand fishers. This valuable material, often mixed with other polypes, forms the compound called “Macciota,” and amongst which I remarked some splendid specimens of rose coral.

But the “bushes” soon became smaller, and the tree growths increased. A petrified underwood and long fantastic arches opened before us. Captain Nemo penetrated beneath a dark gallery, whose gentle descent led us to a depth of 100 yards. The lights at