We Continue Our Descent

: A Journey To The Centre Of The Earth

At eight o'clock the next morning, a faint kind of dawn of day awoke us.

The thousand and one prisms of the lava collected the light as it passed

and brought it to us like a shower of sparks.



We were able with ease to see objects around us.



"Well, Harry, my boy," cried the delighted Professor, rubbing his hands

together, "what say you now? Did you ever pass a more tranquil night in

our house
in the Konigstrasse? No deafening sounds of cart wheels, no

cries of hawkers, no bad language from boatmen or watermen!"



"Well, Uncle, we are quite at the bottom of this well but to me there

is something terrible in this calm."



"Why," said the Professor hotly, "one would say you were already

beginning to be afraid. How will you get on presently? Do you know, that

as yet, we have not penetrated one inch into the bowels of the earth."



"What can you mean, sir?" was my bewildered and astonished reply.



"I mean to say that we have only just reached the soil of the island

itself. This long vertical tube, which ends at the bottom of the crater

of Sneffels, ceases here just about on a level with the sea."



"Are you sure, sir?"



"Quite sure. Consult the barometer."



It was quite true that the mercury, after rising gradually in the

instrument, as long as our descent was taking place, had stopped

precisely at twenty-nine degrees.



"You perceive," said the Professor, "we have as yet only to endure the

pressure of air. I am curious to replace the barometer by the

manometer."



The barometer, in fact, was about to become useless as soon as the

weight of the air was greater than what was calculated as above the

level of the ocean.



"But," said I, "is it not very much to be feared that this

ever-increasing pressure may not in the end turn out very painful and

inconvenient?"



"No," said he. "We shall descend very slowly, and our lungs will be

gradually accustomed to breathe compressed air. It is well known that

aeronauts have gone so high as to be nearly without air at all why,

then, should we not accustom ourselves to breathe when we have, say, a

little too much of it? For myself, I am certain I shall prefer it. Let

us not lose a moment. Where is the packet which preceded us in our

descent?"



I smilingly pointed it out to my uncle. Hans had not seen it, and

believed it caught somewhere above us: "Huppe" as he phrased it.



"Now," said my uncle, "let us breakfast, and break fast like people who

have a long day's work before them."



Biscuit and dried meat, washed down by some mouthfuls of water flavored

with Schiedam, was the material of our luxurious meal.



As soon as it was finished, my uncle took from his pocket a notebook

destined to be filled by memoranda of our travels. He had already placed

his instruments in order, and this is what he wrote:





Monday, June 29th



Chronometer, 8h. 17m. morning.



Barometer, 29.6 inches.



Thermometer, 6 degrees [43 degrees Fahr.]



Direction, E.S.E.







This last observation referred to the obscure gallery, and was indicated

to us by the compass.



"Now, Harry," cried the Professor, in an enthusiastic tone of voice, "we

are truly about to take our first step into the Interior of the Earth;

never before visited by man since the first creation of the world. You

may consider, therefore, that at this precise moment our travels really

commence."



As my uncle made this remark, he took in one hand the Ruhmkorff coil

apparatus, which hung round his neck, and with the other he put the

electric current into communication with the worm of the lantern. And a

bright light at once illumined that dark and gloomy tunnel!



The effect was magical!



Hans, who carried the second apparatus, had it also put into operation.

This ingenious application of electricity to practical purposes enabled

us to move along by the light of an artificial day, amid even the flow

of the most inflammable and combustible gases.



"Forward!" cried my uncle. Each took up his burden. Hans went first, my

uncle followed, and I going third, we entered the somber gallery!



Just as we were about to engulf ourselves in this dismal passage, I

lifted up my head, and through the tubelike shaft saw that Iceland sky I

was never to see again!



Was it the last I should ever see of any sky?



The stream of lava flowing from the bowels of the earth in 1219 had

forced itself a passage through the tunnel. It lined the whole of the

inside with its thick and brilliant coating. The electric light added

very greatly to the brilliancy of the effect.



The great difficulty of our journey now began. How were we to prevent

ourselves from slipping down the steeply inclined plane? Happily some

cracks, abrasures of the soil, and other irregularities, served the

place of steps; and we descended slowly; allowing our heavy luggage to

slip on before, at the end of a long cord.



But that which served as steps under our feet became in other places

stalactites. The lava, very porous in certain places, took the form of

little round blisters. Crystals of opaque quartz, adorned with limpid

drops of natural glass suspended to the roof like lusters, seemed to

take fire as we passed beneath them. One would have fancied that the

genii of romance were illuminating their underground palaces to receive

the sons of men.



"Magnificent, glorious!" I cried in a moment of involuntary enthusiasm,

"What a spectacle, Uncle! Do you not admire these variegated shades of

lava, which run through a whole series of colors, from reddish brown to

pale yellow by the most insensible degrees? And these crystals, they

appear like luminous globes."



"You are beginning to see the charms of travel, Master Harry," cried my

uncle. "Wait a bit, until we advance farther. What we have as yet

discovered is nothing onwards, my boy, onwards!"



It would have been a far more correct and appropriate expression, had he

said, "let us slide," for we were going down an inclined plane with

perfect ease. The compass indicated that we were moving in a

southeasterly direction. The flow of lava had never turned to the right

or the left. It had the inflexibility of a straight line.



Nevertheless, to my surprise, we found no perceptible increase in heat.

This proved the theories of Humphry Davy to be founded on truth, and

more than once I found myself examining the thermometer in silent

astonishment.



Two hours after our departure it only marked fifty-four degrees

Fahrenheit. I had every reason to believe from this that our descent was

far more horizontal than vertical. As for discovering the exact depth to

which we had attained, nothing could be easier. The Professor as he

advanced measured the angles of deviation and inclination; but he kept

the result of his observations to himself.



About eight o'clock in the evening, my uncle gave the signal for

halting. Hans seated himself on the ground. The lamps were hung to

fissures in the lava rock. We were now in a large cavern where air was

not wanting. On the contrary, it abounded. What could be the cause of

this to what atmospheric agitation could be ascribed this draught? But

this was a question which I did not care to discuss just then. Fatigue

and hunger made me incapable of reasoning. An unceasing march of seven

hours had not been kept up without great exhaustion. I was really and

truly worn out; and delighted enough I was to hear the word Halt.



Hans laid out some provisions on a lump of lava, and we each supped with

keen relish. One thing, however, caused us great uneasiness our water

reserve was already half exhausted. My uncle had full confidence in

finding subterranean resources, but hitherto we had completely failed in

so doing. I could not help calling my uncle's attention to the

circumstance.



"And you are surprised at this total absence of springs?" he said.



"Doubtless I am very uneasy on the point. We have certainly not enough

water to last us five days."



"Be quite easy on that matter," continued my uncle. "I answer for it we

shall find plenty of water in fact, far more than we shall want."



"But when?"



"When we once get through this crust of lava. How can you expect springs

to force their way through these solid stone walls?"



"But what is there to prove that this concrete mass of lava does not

extend to the centre of the earth? I don't think we have as yet done

much in a vertical way."



"What puts that into your head, my boy?" asked my uncle mildly.



"Well, it appears to me that if we had descended very far below the

level of the sea we should find it rather hotter than we have."



"According to your system," said my uncle; "but what does the

thermometer say?"



"Scarcely fifteen degrees by Reaumur, which is only an increase of nine

since our departure."



"Well, and what conclusion does that bring you to?" inquired the

Professor.



"The deduction I draw from this is very simple. According to the most

exact observations, the augmentation of the temperature of the interior

of the earth is one degree for every hundred feet. But certain local

causes may considerably modify this figure. Thus at Yakoust in Siberia,

it has been remarked that the heat increases a degree every thirty-six

feet. The difference evidently depends on the conductibility of certain

rocks. In the neighborhood of an extinct volcano, it has been remarked

that the elevation of temperature was only one degree in every

five-and-twenty feet. Let us, then, go upon this calculation which is

the most favorable and calculate."



"Calculate away, my boy."



"Nothing easier," said I, pulling out my notebook and pencil. "Nine

times one hundred and twenty-five feet make a depth of eleven hundred

and twenty-five feet."



"Archimedes could not have spoken more geometrically."



"Well?"



"Well, according to my observations, we are at least ten thousand feet

below the level of the sea."



"Can it be possible?"



"Either my calculation is correct, or there is no truth in figures."



The calculations of the Professor were perfectly correct. We were

already six thousand feet deeper down in the bowels of the earth than

anyone had ever been before. The lowest known depth to which man had

hitherto penetrated was in the mines of Kitzbuhel, in the Tirol, and

those of Wurttemberg.



The temperature, which should have been eighty-one, was in this place

only fifteen. This was a matter for serious consideration.



More

;