mechanical powers of steam. Who knows but that in a hundred years they may see another Nautilus. Progress is slow, M. Aronnax.”
“It is true,” said I, “that your vessel is a century, many centuries perhaps, in advance of its time. What a pity it is that the secret should die with its inventor.”
Captain Nemo made no answer. After a pause he said: “We were speaking of the opinions of the ancient historians respecting the dangers of the Red Sea.”
“Yes,” I said, “but were not their fears exaggerated?”
“Well, yes—and no, M. Aronnax,” replied the captain, who seemed to have physically and morally gone deeply into the Red Sea. “That which is not dangerous for a modern ship, well found and solidly built, and, thanks to steam-power, master of its course, would offer considerable danger to ancient galleys. We must consider these first navigators in their roughly-built vessels. They had not any instruments to take bearings, and they sailed at the mercy of almost unknown currents. Under such conditions shipwrecks were, as might be expected, frequent. But in our time the steamers that perform the service between Suez and the Southern Seas have nothing to fear in this sea, despite of monsoons even. Captains and passengers do not offer propitiatory sacrifices before starting, and when they return they do not carry gilded ornaments and fillets as thank-offerings to the gods.”
“I agree with you,” I said; “and steam appears to have killed thankfulness in the hearts of sailors. But, captain, as you appear to have made this sea your study, can you tell me the origin of its name?”
“Numerous explanations exist. Should you like to know the opinion of a chronicler of the fourteenth century?”
