Captain Nemo went towards the peak, which he doubtless meant
to be his observatory. It was a painful ascent over the sharp lava
and the pumice-stones, in an atmosphere often impregnated with a
sulphurous smell from the smoking cracks. For a man unaccustomed
to walk on land, the Captain climbed the steep slopes with an
agility I never saw equalled and which a hunter would have envied.
We were two hours getting to the summit of this peak, which was half
porphyry and half basalt. From thence we looked upon a vast sea which,
towards the north, distinctly traced its boundary line upon the sky.
At our feet lay fields of dazzling whiteness. Over our heads
a pale azure, free from fog. To the north the disc of the sun seemed
like a ball of fire, already horned by the cutting of the horizon.
From the bosom of the water rose sheaves of liquid jets by hundreds.
In the distance lay the Nautilus like a cetacean asleep on the water.
Behind us, to the south and east, an immense country and a chaotic
heap of rocks and ice, the limits of which were not visible.
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