A Guide Found To The Centre Of The Earth

: A Journey To The Interior Of The Earth

In the evening I took a short walk on the beach and returned at night

to my plank-bed, where I slept soundly all night.



When I awoke I heard my uncle talking at a great rate in the next

room. I immediately dressed and joined him.



He was conversing in the Danish language with a tall man, of robust

build. This fine fellow must have been possessed of great strength.

His eyes, set in a large and ingenuous face, seemed to me very

intelligent; they were of a dreamy sea-blue. Long hair, which would

have been called red even in England, fell in long meshes upon his

broad shoulders. The movements of this native were lithe and supple;

but he made little use of his arms in speaking, like a man who knew

nothing or cared nothing about the language of gestures. His whole

appearance bespoke perfect calmness and self-possession, not

indolence but tranquillity. It was felt at once that he would be

beholden to nobody, that he worked for his own convenience, and that

nothing in this world could astonish or disturb his philosophic

calmness.



I caught the shades of this Icelander's character by the way in which

he listened to the impassioned flow of words which fell from the

Professor. He stood with arms crossed, perfectly unmoved by my

uncle's incessant gesticulations. A negative was expressed by a slow

movement of the head from left to right, an affirmative by a slight

bend, so slight that his long hair scarcely moved. He carried economy

of motion even to parsimony.



Certainly I should never have dreamt in looking at this man that he

was a hunter; he did not look likely to frighten his game, nor did he

seem as if he would even get near it. But the mystery was explained

when M. Fridrikssen informed me that this tranquil personage was only

a hunter of the eider duck, whose under plumage constitutes the chief

wealth of the island. This is the celebrated eider down, and it

requires no great rapidity of movement to get it.



Early in summer the female, a very pretty bird, goes to build her

nest among the rocks of the fiords with which the coast is fringed.

After building the nest she feathers it with down plucked from her

own breast. Immediately the hunter, or rather the trader, comes and

robs the nest, and the female recommences her work. This goes on as

long as she has any down left. When she has stripped herself bare the

male takes his turn to pluck himself. But as the coarse and hard

plumage of the male has no commercial value, the hunter does not take

the trouble to rob the nest of this; the female therefore lays her

eggs in the spoils of her mate, the young are hatched, and next year

the harvest begins again.



Now, as the eider duck does not select steep cliffs for her nest, but

rather the smooth terraced rocks which slope to the sea, the

Icelandic hunter might exercise his calling without any inconvenient

exertion. He was a farmer who was not obliged either to sow or reap

his harvest, but merely to gather it in.



This grave, phlegmatic, and silent individual was called Hans Bjelke;

and he came recommended by M. Fridrikssen. He was our future guide.

His manners were a singular contrast with my uncle's.



Nevertheless, they soon came to understand each other. Neither looked

at the amount of the payment: the one was ready to accept whatever

was offered; the other was ready to give whatever was demanded. Never

was bargain more readily concluded.



The result of the treaty was, that Hans engaged on his part to

conduct us to the village of Stapi, on the south shore of the Snaefell

peninsula, at the very foot of the volcano. By land this would be

about twenty-two miles, to be done, said my uncle, in two days.



But when he learnt that the Danish mile was 24,000 feet long, he was

obliged to modify his calculations and allow seven or eight days for

the march.



Four horses were to be placed at our disposal--two to carry him and

me, two for the baggage. Hams, as was his custom, would go on foot.

He knew all that part of the coast perfectly, and promised to take us

the shortest way.



His engagement was not to terminate with our arrival at Stapi; he was

to continue in my uncle's service for the whole period of his

scientific researches, for the remuneration of three rixdales a week

(about twelve shillings), but it was an express article of the

covenant that his wages should be counted out to him every Saturday

at six o'clock in the evening, which, according to him, was one

indispensable part of the engagement.



The start was fixed for the 16th of June. My uncle wanted to pay the

hunter a portion in advance, but he refused with one word:



"EFTER," said he.



"After," said the Professor for my edification.



The treaty concluded, Hans silently withdrew.



"A famous fellow," cried my uncle; "but he little thinks of the

marvellous part he has to play in the future."



"So he is to go with us as far as--"



"As far as the centre of the earth, Axel."



Forty-eight hours were left before our departure; to my great regret

I had to employ them in preparations; for all our ingenuity was

required to pack every article to the best advantage; instruments

here, arms there, tools in this package, provisions in that: four

sets of packages in all.



The instruments were:



1. An Eigel's centigrade thermometer, graduated up to 150 degrees

(302 degrees Fahr.), which seemed to me too much or too little. Too

much if the internal heat was to rise so high, for in this case we

should be baked, not enough to measure the temperature of springs or



any matter in a state of fusion.



2. An aneroid barometer, to indicate extreme pressures of the

atmosphere. An ordinary barometer would not have answered the

purpose, as the pressure would increase during our descent to a point

which the mercurial barometer [1] would not register.



3. A chronometer, made by Boissonnas, jun., of Geneva, accurately set

to the meridian of Hamburg.



4. Two compasses, viz., a common compass and a dipping needle.



5. A night glass.



6. Two of Ruhmkorff's apparatus, which, by means of an electric

current, supplied a safe and handy portable light [2]



The arms consisted of two of Purdy's rifles and two brace of pistols.

But what did we want arms for? We had neither savages nor wild beasts

to fear, I supposed. But my uncle seemed to believe in his arsenal as

in his instruments, and more especially in a considerable quantity of

gun cotton, which is unaffected by moisture, and the explosive force

of which exceeds that of gunpowder.



[1] In M. Verne's book a 'manometer' is the instrument used, of which

very little is known. In a complete list of philosophical instruments

the translator cannot find the name. As he is assured by a first-rate

instrument maker, Chadburn, of Liverpool, that an aneroid can be

constructed to measure any depth, he has thought it best to furnish

the adventurous professor with this more familiar instrument. The

'manometer' is generally known as a pressure gauge.--TRANS.



[2] Ruhmkorff's apparatus consists of a Bunsen pile worked with

bichromate of potash, which makes no smell; an induction coil carries

the electricity generated by the pile into communication with a

lantern of peculiar construction; in this lantern there is a spiral

glass tube from which the air has been excluded, and in which remains

only a residuum of carbonic acid gas or of nitrogen. When the

apparatus is put in action this gas becomes luminous, producing a

white steady light. The pile and coil are placed in a leathern bag

which the traveller carries over his shoulders; the lantern outside

of the bag throws sufficient light into deep darkness; it enables one

to venture without fear of explosions into the midst of the most

inflammable gases, and is not extinguished even in the deepest

waters. M. Ruhmkorff is a learned and most ingenious man of science;

his great discovery is his induction coil, which produces a powerful

stream of electricity. He obtained in 1864 the quinquennial prize of

50,000 franc reserved by the French government for the most ingenious

application of electricity.



The tools comprised two pickaxes, two spades, a silk ropeladder,

three iron-tipped sticks, a hatchet, a hammer, a dozen wedges and

iron spikes, and a long knotted rope. Now this was a large load, for

the ladder was 300 feet long.



And there were provisions too: this was not a large parcel, but it

was comforting to know that of essence of beef and biscuits there

were six months' consumption. Spirits were the only liquid, and of

water we took none; but we had flasks, and my uncle depended on

springs from which to fill them. Whatever objections I hazarded as to

their quality, temperature, and even absence, remained ineffectual.



To complete the exact inventory of all our travelling accompaniments,

I must not forget a pocket medicine chest, containing blunt scissors,

splints for broken limbs, a piece of tape of unbleached linen,

bandages and compresses, lint, a lancet for bleeding, all dreadful

articles to take with one. Then there was a row of phials containing

dextrine, alcoholic ether, liquid acetate of lead, vinegar, and

ammonia drugs which afforded me no comfort. Finally, all the articles

needful to supply Ruhmkorff's apparatus.



My uncle did not forget--a supply of tobacco, coarse grained powder,

and amadou, nor a leathern belt in which he carried a sufficient

quantity of gold, silver, and paper money. Six pairs of boots and

shoes, made waterproof with a composition of indiarubber and naphtha,

were packed amongst the tools.



"Clothed, shod, and equipped like this," said my uncle, "there is no

telling how far we may go."



The 14th was wholly spent in arranging all our different articles. In

the evening we dined with Baron Tramps; the mayor of Rejkiavik, and

Dr. Hyaltalin, the first medical man of the place, being of the

party. M. Fridrikssen was not there. I learned afterwards that he and

the Governor disagreed upon some question of administration, and did

not speak to each other. I therefore knew not a single word of all

that was said at this semi-official dinner; but I could not help

noticing that my uncle talked the whole time.



On the 15th our preparations were all made. Our host gave the

Professor very great pleasure by presenting him with a map of Iceland

far more complete than that of Hendersen. It was the map of M. Olaf

Nikolas Olsen, in the proportion of 1 to 480,000 of the actual size

of the island, and published by the Icelandic Literary Society. It

was a precious document for a mineralogist.



Our last evening was spent in intimate conversation with M.

Fridrikssen, with whom I felt the liveliest sympathy; then, after the

talk, succeeded, for me, at any rate, a disturbed and restless night.



At five in the morning I was awoke by the neighing and pawing of four

horses under my window. I dressed hastily and came down into the

street. Hans was finishing our packing, almost as it were without

moving a limb; and yet he did his work cleverly. My uncle made more

noise than execution, and the guide seemed to pay very little

attention to his energetic directions.



At six o'clock our preparations were over. M. Fridrikssen shook hands

with us. My uncle thanked him heartily for his extreme kindness. I

constructed a few fine Latin sentences to express my cordial

farewell. Then we bestrode our steeds and with his last adieu M.

Fridrikssen treated me to a line of Virgil eminently applicable to

such uncertain wanderers as we were likely to be:



"Et quacumque viam dedent fortuna sequamur."



"Therever fortune clears a way,



Thither our ready footsteps stray."