"It's a floating island," answered Woddle.
A horrible thought crossed Mont's mind to which he could not give expression.
"To put you out of your misery at once," continued Dr. Woddle, "we are on the back of the gigantic creature at whom I shot, and I know now why I did not kill him."
"Why?"
"Because he is ironclad, or something very like it. I can make no impression upon the scaly monster with my knife."
These words produced a strange feeling in Mont's mind. He found that he was really with his friends on the back of the monster, which continued to float on the surface, after causing the partial destruction of the ship.
He got up and stamped his foot. It was certainly a hard, impenetrable body, and not the soft substance of which all the marine inhabitants that he had heard of were made, such as whales, sharks, walruses, and the like. If anything, it more resembled a tortoise or an alligator. A hollow sound was emitted when it was struck, and it appeared to be made of cast-iron plates secured together.
"What is your opinion of the creature, sir?" asked Mont.
"You want my candid opinion as a man of science?" said the doctor.
"Certainly, sir."