There are three kinds of liars: 1. The man whom others can't believe. He is harmless. Let him alone. 2. The man who can't believe others. He has probably made a careful study of human nature. If you don't put him in jail, he will find out... Read more of LIARS at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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From: A Journey To The Centre Of The Earth

It must in all truth be confessed, things as yet had gone on well, and I
should have acted in bad taste to have complained. If the true medium of
our difficulties did not increase, it was within the range of
possibility that we might ultimately reach the end of our journey. Then
what glory would be ours! I began in the newly aroused ardor of my soul
to speak enthusiastically to the Professor. Well, was I serious? The
whole state in which we existed was a mystery and it was impossible to
know whether or not I was in earnest.

For several days after our memorable halt, the slopes became more
rapid some were even of a most frightful character almost vertical, so
that we were forever going down into the solid interior mass. During
some days, we actually descended a league and a half, even two leagues
towards the centre of the earth. The descents were sufficiently
perilous, and while we were engaged in them we learned fully to
appreciate the marvelous coolness of our guide, Hans. Without him we
should have been wholly lost. The grave and impassible Icelander devoted
himself to us with the most incomprehensible sang-froid and ease; and,
thanks to him, many a dangerous pass was got over, where, but for him,
we should inevitably have stuck fast.

His silence increased every day. I think that we began to be influenced
by this peculiar trait in his character. It is certain that the
inanimate objects by which you are surrounded have a direct action on
the brain. It must be that a man who shuts himself up between four walls
must lose the faculty of associating ideas and words. How many persons
condemned to the horrors of solitary confinement have gone mad simply
because the thinking faculties have lain dormant!

During the two weeks that followed our last interesting conversation,
there occurred nothing worthy of being especially recorded.

I have, while writing these memoirs, taxed my memory in vain for one
incident of travel during this particular period.

But the next event to be related is terrible indeed. Its very memory,
even now, makes my soul shudder, and my blood run cold.

It was on the seventh of August. Our constant and successive descents
had taken us quite thirty leagues into the interior of the earth, that
is to say that there were above us thirty leagues, nearly a hundred
miles, of rocks, and oceans, and continents, and towns, to say nothing
of living inhabitants. We were in a southeasterly direction, about two
hundred leagues from Iceland.

On that memorable day the tunnel had begun to assume an almost
horizontal course.

I was on this occasion walking on in front. My uncle had charge of one
of the Ruhmkorff coils, I had possession of the other. By means of its
light I was busy examining the different layers of granite. I was
completely absorbed in my work.

Suddenly halting and turning round, I found that I was alone!

"Well," thought I to myself, "I have certainly been walking too fast or
else Hans and my uncle have stopped to rest. The best thing I can do is
to go back and find them. Luckily, there is very little ascent to tire

I accordingly retraced my steps and, while doing so, walked for at least
a quarter of an hour. Rather uneasy, I paused and looked eagerly around.
Not a living soul. I called aloud. No reply. My voice was lost amid the
myriad cavernous echoes it aroused!

I began for the first time to feel seriously uneasy. A cold shiver shook
my whole body, and perspiration, chill and terrible, burst upon my skin.

"I must be calm," I said, speaking aloud, as boys whistle to drive away
fear. "There can be no doubt that I shall find my companions. There
cannot be two roads. It is certain that I was considerably ahead; all I
have to do is to go back."

Having come to this determination I ascended the tunnel for at least
half an hour, unable to decide if I had ever seen certain landmarks
before. Every now and then I paused to discover if any loud appeal was
made to me, well knowing that in that dense and intensified atmosphere I
should hear it a long way off. But no. The most extraordinary silence
reigned in this immense gallery. Only the echoes of my own footsteps
could be heard.

At last I stopped. I could scarcely realize the fact of my isolation. I
was quite willing to think that I had made a mistake, but not that I was
lost. If I had made a mistake, I might find my way; if lost I shuddered
to think of it.

"Come, come," said I to myself, "since there is only one road, and they
must come by it, we shall at last meet. All I have to do is still to go
upwards. Perhaps, however, not seeing me, and forgetting I was ahead,
they may have gone back in search of me. Still, even in this case, if I
make haste, I shall get up to them. There can be no doubt about the

But as I spoke these last words aloud, it would have been quite clear to
any listener had there been one that I was by no means convinced of
the fact. Moreover in order to associate together these simple ideas and
to reunite them under the form of reasoning, required some time. I could
not all at once bring my brain to think.

Then another dread doubt fell upon my soul. After all, was I ahead? Of
course I was. Hans was no doubt following behind preceded by my uncle. I
perfectly recollected his having stopped for a moment to strap his
baggage on his shoulder. I now remembered this trifling detail. It was,
I believe, just at that very moment that I had determined to continue My

"Again," thought I, reasoning as calmly as was possible, "there is
another sure means of not losing my way, a thread to guide me through
the labyrinthine subterraneous retreat one which I had forgotten my
faithful river."

This course of reasoning roused my drooping spirits, and I resolved to
resume my journey without further delay. No time was to be lost.

It was at this moment that I had reason to bless the thoughtfulness of
my uncle, when he refused to allow the eider hunter to close the
orifices of the hot spring that small fissure in the great mass of
granite. This beneficent spring after having saved us from thirst during
so many days would now enable me to regain the right road.

Having come to this mental decision, I made up my mind, before I started
upwards, that ablution would certainly do me a great deal of good.

I stopped to plunge my hands and forehead in the pleasant water of the
Hansbach stream, blessing its presence as a certain consolation.

Conceive my horror and stupefaction! I was treading a hard, dusty,
shingly road of granite. The stream on which I reckoned had wholly

Next: Lost!

Previous: Sunday Below Ground

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