A Journey to the Centre of the Earth

(Greg DeLong) #1

I could bear the suspense and suffering no longer, and seated myself against
the wall, behind which I could hear the water seething and effervescing not two
feet away. But a solid wall of granite still separated us from it!


Hans looked keenly at me, and, strange enough, for once I thought I saw a
smile on his imperturbable face.


He rose from a stone on which he had been seated, and took up the lamp. I
could not help rising and following. He moved slowly along the firm and solid
granite wall. I watched him with mingled curiosity and eagerness. Presently he
halted and placed his ear against the dry stone, moving slowly along and
listening with the most extreme care and attention. I understood at once that he
was searching for the exact spot where the torrent's roar was most plainly heard.
This point he soon found in the lateral wall on the left side, about three feet
above the level of the tunnel floor.


I was in a state of intense excitement. I scarcely dared believe what the eider-
duck hunter was about to do. It was, however, impossible in a moment more not
to both understand and applaud, and even to smother him in my embraces, when
I saw him raise the heavy crowbar and commence an attack upon the rock itself.


"Saved!"    I   cried.

"Yes," cried my uncle, even more excited and delighted than myself; "Hans is
quite right. Oh, the worthy, excellent man! We should never have thought of
such an idea."


And nobody else, I think, would have done so. Such a process, simple as it
seemed, would most certainly not have entered our heads. Nothing could be
more dangerous than to begin to work with pickaxes in that particular part of the
globe. Supposing while he was at work a break-up were to take place, and
supposing the torrent once having gained an inch were to take an ell, and come
pouring bodily through the broken rock!


Not one of these dangers was chimerical. They were only too real. But at that
moment no fear of falling in of the roof, or even of inundation was capable of
stopping us. Our thirst was so intense that to quench it we would have dug below
the bed of old Ocean itself.


Hans went quietly to work—a work which neither my uncle nor I would have
undertaken at any price. Our impatience was so great that if we had once begun

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