Our route got more and more illuminated. The white gleam radiated from a mountain about 800 feet in height. But what I could see was only a reflection thrown up by the crystal of the sea depths.The fire, the original cause of this extraordinary illumination, lay at the opposite slope of the hill.
Captain Nemo advanced amid the rocky masses without the least hesitation. He evidently was acquainted with this dark road. He had doubtless frequently traversed it, and would not lose his way. I followed him in full confidence, He seemed to me like one of those genii of the sea, and as he walked in front, I admired his lofty stature, which was thrown out in strong relief against the luminous horizon.
It was 1 AM. We reached the first slopes of the mountain, but to cross them we were obliged to attempt a difficult path in a vast thicket. Yes, a thicket of dead trees, trees mineralised by the action of the water, with here and there a gigantic pine dominating them. It was like a standing coal-pit, whose ramifications, like cuttings upon black paper, stood out clearly against the watery ceiling. It was like a submerged forest of the Hartz, clinging to the mountain sides. The paths were encumbered with alge and fucus, amongst which crawled a whole colony of crustacea, I went on jumping over the rocks, striding over the tree-trunks, breaking away the bind-weed that extended from branch to branch, and frightening the fish,Carried onward, I felt no weariness. I followed my guide, who knew no fatigue.
And what a sight it was! How can I reproduce it? How can I depict the aspect of those trees and rocks in this liquid medium, the black foundations, while red-tinged tops glowed in the light, which was doubled by the reflecting powers of the water? We clambered up rocks which gave
