Page:Twenty Thousand Verne Frith 1876.pdf/66

 cold was seizing upon my limbs. I raised my head for the last time, and sank.

At that moment a hard substance struck me. I clung to it. It drew me upwards, and so soon as I regained the surface I fainted. I came to myself very speedily, thanks to the vigorous friction applied to my body. I opened my eyes.

“Conseil,” I murmured.

“Did Monsieur call?” he asked.

The moon again burst forth, and by her light I recognised another figure beside Conseil.

“Ned!” I exclaimed.

“In person, sir, looking after his reward.”

“You were also thrown into the sea by the collision, I presume?”

“Yes, sir,” replied he; “but, more fortunate than you, I got upon a floating island at once.”

“An island?”

“Yes; or rather upon our gigantic narwhal.”

“Explain yourself, Ned.”

“There is only this. I have discovered why my harpoon did not injure the creature, and was blunted by the hide.”

“Why, Ned? Why?”

“Because this beast is clothed in sheet-iron.”

It was now necessary for me to recover my spirits and collect my thoughts. The last words of the Canadian had produced a sudden change of thought. I pulled myself up to the top of the object or being upon which we had taken refuge. I kicked it. It was certainly a hard body, and not of the material of which immense marine mammifers are composed.