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Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea - Part 2 - Chapter 5
Episode 2826th January 2024 • Bite at a Time Books • Bree Carlile
00:00:00 00:17:20

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Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the twenty-eighth chapter of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

Come with us as we release one bite a day of one of your favorite classic novels, plays & short stories. Bree reads these classics like she reads to her daughter, one chapter a day. If you love books or audiobooks and want something to listen to as you're getting ready, driving to work, or as you're getting ready for bed, check out Bite at a Time Books!

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San the book and let's see what we can find.

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Take it chapter by chapter, one bite at a time so many adventures and mountains we can climb take it word for word, like by line.

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One bite at a time.

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My name is Brie Carlyle and I love to read and wanted to share my passion with listeners like you.

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If you want to know what's coming next and vote on upcoming books, sign up for our newsletter@byetatimebooks.com you'll also find our new t shirts in the shop, including podcast shirts and quote shirts from your favorite classic novels.

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Be sure to follow my show on your favorite podcast platform so you get all the new episodes.

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You can find most of our links in the show notes, but also our website, bytetimebooks.com includes all of the links for our show, including to our Patreon to support the show and YouTube, where we have special behind the narration of the episodes.

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We're part of the Bite at a Time Books productions network.

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If you'd also like to hear what inspired your favorite classic authors to write their novels and what was going on in the world at the time, check out the bite at a time books behind the story podcast.

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Wherever you listen to podcasts, please note.

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While we try to keep the text as close to the original as possible, some words have been changed to honor the marginalized communities who've identified the words as harmful and to stay in alignment with bite at a time book's brand values.

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Today we'll be continuing 20,000 leagues under.

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The sea by Jules Verne chapter five.

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The arabian tunnel that same evening, in 21 degrees 30 minutes north latitude, the nautilus floated on the surface of the sea.

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Approaching the arabian coast, I saw Jetta, the most important counting house of Egypt, Syria, Turkey, and India.

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I distinguished clearly enough its buildings, the vessels anchored at the quays, and those whose draught of water obliged them to anchor in the roads.

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The sun, rather low on the horizon, struck full on the houses of the town, bringing out their whiteness.

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Outside, some wooden cabins and some made of reeds showed the quarter inhabited by the Bedouins.

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Soon Dejada was shut out from the view by the shadows of night, and the nautilus found herself underwater, slightly phosphorescent.

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The next day, the 10 February, we sighted several ships running to windward.

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The Nautilus returned to its submarine navigation, but at noon, when her bearings were taken, the sea being deserted, she rose again to her waterline.

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Accompanied by Ned in conceal, I seated myself on the platform.

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The coast on the eastern side looked like a mass faintly printed upon a damp fog.

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We were leaning on the sides of the pennies, talking of one thing and another, when Ned land, stretching out his hand towards the spot on the sea, said, do you see anything there, sir?

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No, Ned, I replied, but I have not your eyes, you know, look well, said Ned, there on the starboard beam, above the height of the lantern, do you not see a mass which seems to move?

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Certainly, said I, after close attention, I see something like a long black body on top of the water, and certainly before long, the black object was not more than a mile from us.

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It looked like a great sandbank deposited in the open sea.

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It was a gigantic dugong.

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Ned land looked eagerly.

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His eyes shone with covetousness at the sight of the animal.

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His hand seemed ready to harpoon it.

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One would have thought he was awaiting the moment to throw himself into the sea and attack it in its element.

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At this instant, Captain Nemo appeared on the platform.

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He saw the dugong, understood the canadian's attitude, and, addressing him, said, if you held a harpoon just now, masterland, would it not burn your hand?

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Just so, sir, and you would not be sorry to go back for one day to your trade of a fishermen and add the cetacean to the list of those you've already killed?

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I should not, sir.

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Well, you can try.

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Thank you, sir, said Ned land, his eyes flaming.

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Only, continued the captain.

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I advise you for your own sake not to miss the creature.

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Is the dugong dangerous to attack?

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I asked, in spite of the canadian shrug of the shoulders.

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Yes, replied the captain, sometimes the animal turns upon its assailants and overturns their boat.

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But for master land, this dangerous not to be feared, his eye is prompt, his arm sure.

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At this moment, seven men of the crew, mute and immovable as ever, mounted the platform.

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One carried a harpoon and a line similar to those employed in catching whales.

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The pinnacle was lifted from the bridge, pulled from its socket, and let down into the sea.

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Six oarsmen took their seats, and the coxwain went to the tiller.

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Ned conceal and I went to the back of the boat.

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You're not coming, captain?

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I asked.

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No, sir, but I wish you good sport.

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The boat, put off and lifted by the six rowers, drew rapidly towards the dugong, which floated about 2 miles from the nautilus, arrived some cables length from the cetacean.

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The speed slackened, and the oars dipped noiselessly into the quiet waters.

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Ned land, harpoon in hand, stood in the fore part of the boat.

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The harpoon, used for striking the whale is generally attached to a very long cord, which runs out rapidly as the wounded creature draws it after him.

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But here the cord was not more than ten fathoms long, and the extremity was attached to a small barrel, which by floating was to show the course of the dugong took under the water.

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I stood and carefully watched the canadian's adversary.

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This dugong, which also bears the name of the halocore, closely resembles the manatee.

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Its oblong body terminated in a lengthened tail and its lateral fins and perfect fingers.

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Its difference from the manatee consisted in its upper jaw, which was armed with two long and pointed teeth, which formed on each side diverging tusks.

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This dugong, which net land was preparing to attack, was of clausal dimensions.

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It was more than seven yards long.

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It did not move and seemed to be sleeping on the waves, which circumstance made it easier to capture.

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The boat approached within six yards of the animal.

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The oars rested on the rowlocks.

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A half rose Ned land, his body thrown a little back, brandished the harpoon in his experienced hand.

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Suddenly a hissing noise was heard, and the dugong disappeared.

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The harpoon, although thrown with great force, had apparently only struck the water.

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Curse it.

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Exclaimed the Canadian furiously.

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I have missed it.

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No, said I.

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The creature is wounded.

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Look at the blood.

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But your weapon is not struck in his body.

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My harpoon, my harpoon.

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Cried Ned land.

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The sailors rode on, and the cockswain made for the floating barrel.

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The harpoon regained.

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We followed in pursuit of the animal.

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The latter came now and then to the surface to breathe.

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Its wound had not weakened it, for it shot onwards with great rapidity.

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The boat, rowed by strong arms, flew on its track.

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Several times it approached within some few yards, and the Canadian was ready to strike.

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But the dugong made off with a sudden plunge, and it was impossible to reach it.

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Imagine the passion which excited impatient Ned land.

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He hurled at the unfortunate creature, the most energetic expletives in the english tongue.

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For my part, I was only vexed to see the dugong escape all our attacks.

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We pursued it without relaxation for an hour, and I began to think it would prove difficult to capture when the animal, possessed with the perverse idea of vengeance of which he had caused to repent, turned upon the pennies and assailed us in its turn.

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This maneuver did not escape the Canadian.

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Look out.

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He cried.

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The coxwain said some words in his outlandish tongue, doubtless warning the men to keep on their guard.

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The dugong came within 20ft of the boat, stopped sniffed the air briskly, with its large nostrils not pierced at the extremity, but in the upper parts of its muzzle.

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Then, taking a spring, he threw himself upon us.

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The pinnis could not avoid the shock, and, half upset, shipped at least two tons of water, which had to be emptied.

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But thanks to the coxwain, we caught it sideways, not full front, so we were not quite overturned, while Ned land, clinging to the boughs, labored the gigantic animal with blows from his harpoon.

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The creature's teeth were buried in the gunwale, and it lifted the whole thing out of the water, as a lion does a roebuck.

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We were upset over one another, and I know not how the adventure would have ended if the Canadian, still enraged with the beast, had not struck it to the heart.

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I heard its teeth grind on the iron plate, and the dugong disappeared, carrying the harpoon with him.

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But the barrel soon returned to the surface, and shortly after the body of the animal turned on its back.

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The boat came up with it, took it in tow, and made straight for the nautilus.

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It required tackle of enormous strength to hoist the dugong onto the platform.

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It weighed 10,000 pounds.

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The next day, 11 February, the larder of the nautilus was enriched by some more delicate game.

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A flight of sea swallows rested on the nautilus.

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It was a species of the sterna nilotica, peculiar to Egypt.

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Its beak is black, head gray and pointed, the eyes surrounded by white spots, the back wings and tail of a grayish color, the belly and throat white, and claws red.

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They also took some dozen of Nile ducks, a wild bird of high flavor, its throat and upper part of the head white with black spots.

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At about 05:00 in the evening we sighted to the north the Cape of Ras Mohammed.

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This cape forms the extremity of Arabia petria, comprised between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Aqaba.

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The nautilus penetrated into the Straits of Jubal, which leads to the Gulf of Suez.

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I distinctly saw a high mountain towering between the two gulfs of Rasmuhamid.

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It was Mount Horeb, that's sinai, at the top of which Moses saw God face to face.

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00 the nautilus, sometimes floating, sometimes immersed, past some distance from Tor, situated at the end of the bay, the waters of which seemed tinted with red, an observation already made by Captain Nemo.

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The night fell in the midst of a heavy silence, sometimes broken by the cries of the pelican and other nightbirds, and the noise of the waves breaking upon the shore.

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Chafing against the rocks, or the panting of some far off steamer beating the waters of the gulf with its noisy paddles.

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From eight to 09:00 the nautilus remained some fathoms under the water.

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According to my calculation, we must have been very near Suez.

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Through the panel of the saloon I saw the bottom of the rocks brilliantly lit up by our electric lamp.

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We seemed to be leaving the straits behind us more and more.

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At a 09:15, the vessel having returned to the surface, I mounted the platform, most impatient to pass through Captain Nemo's tunnel.

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I could not stay in one place, so came to breathe the fresh night air.

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Soon, in the shadow, I saw a pale light, half discolored by the fog shining about a mile from us.

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A floating lighthouse, said someone near me.

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I turned and saw the captain.

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It is the floating light of Suez, he continued.

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It will not be long before we gain the entrance of the tunnel.

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The entrance cannot be easy.

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No, sir.

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For that reason I am accustomed to go into the steerman's cage and myself.

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Direct our course.

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And now, if you will go down, Monsieur Aranax, the Nautilus is going under the waves, and will not return to the surface until we have passed through the arabian tunnel.

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Captain Nemo led me towards the central staircase.

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Halfway down he opened a door, traversed the upper deck, and landed in the pilot's cage, which, it may be remembered, rose at the extremity of the platform.

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It was a cabin measuring 6ft square, very much like that occupied by the pilot on the steamboats of the Mississippi or Hudson.

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In the midst worked a wheel placed vertically, and caught to the tiller rope, which ran to the back of the Nautilus.

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Four light ports with lenticular glasses led in a groove in the partition of the cabin, allowed the man at the wheel to see in all directions.

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This cabin was dark, but soon my eyes accustomed themselves to the obscurity, and I perceived the pilot, a strong man, with his hands resting on the spokes of the wheel.

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Outside, the sea appeared vividly lit up by the lantern, which shed its rays from the back of the cabin to the other extremity of the platform.

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Now, said Captain Nemo, let us try to make our passage.

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Electric wires connected the pilot's cage with the machinery room, and from there the captain could communicate simultaneously to his nautilus the direction and the speed.

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He pressed a metal knob, and at once the speed of the screw diminished.

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I looked in silence at the high straight wall we were running by.

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At this moment the immovable base of a massive sandy coast.

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We followed it thus for an hour, only some few yards off.

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Captain Nemo did not take his eye from the knob, suspended by its two concentric circles in the cabin.

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At a simple gesture, the pilot modified the course of the nautilus every instant.

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I'd placed myself at the port scuttle and saw some magnificent substructures of coral, zuphytes, seaweed, and fuchus, agitating their enormous claws, which stretched out from the fissures of the rock.

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At a 10:15 the captain himself took the helm.

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A large gallery, black and deep, opened before us.

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The nautilus went boldly into it.

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A strange roaring was heard round its sides.

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It was the waters of the Red Sea, which the incline of the tunnel precipitated violently towards the Mediterranean.

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The nautilus went with the torrent, rapid as an arrow.

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In spite of the efforts of the machinery, which, in order to offer more effective resistance, beat the waves with reversed screw.

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On the walls of the narrow passage I could see nothing but brilliant rays, straight lines, furrows of fire traced by the great speed under the brilliant electric light.

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My heart beat fast.

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At 35 minutes past ten, Captain Nemo quitted the helm and, turning to me, said, the Mediterranean.

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In less than 20 minutes, the Nautilus, carried along by the torrent, had passed through the Isthamus of Suez.

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Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

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Again, my name is Brie Carlyle, and I hope you come back tomorrow for.

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The next bite of 20,000 leagues under the sea.

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Don't forget to sign up for our newsletter@bytetimebooks.com, and check out the shop.

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You can check out the show notes or our website, bytetimebooks.com, for the rest of the links for our show, we'd love to hear from you on social media as well.

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A look in the book, and let's see what we can find.

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Take it chapter by chapter, one at a time.

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So many adventures and mountains we can climb.

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Take it word for word, line by line, one bite at a time.

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Close.

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