Journey to the Center of the Earth

Chapter 22

TOTAL FAILURE OF WATER

This time the descent commenced by the new gallery. Hans walked firstas was his custom.

We had not gone a hundred yards when the Professor, moving hislantern along the walls, cried:

"Here are primitive rocks. Now we are in the right way. Forward!"

When in its early stages the earth was slowly cooling, itscontraction gave rise in its crust to disruptions, distortions,fissures, and chasms. The passage through which we were moving wassuch a fissure, through which at one time granite poured out in amolten state. Its thousands of windings formed an inextricablelabyrinth through the primeval mass.

As fast as we descended, the succession of beds forming the primitivefoundation came out with increasing distinctness. Geologists considerthis primitive matter to be the base of the mineral crust of theearth, and have ascertained it to be composed of three differentformations, schist, gneiss, and mica schist, resting upon thatunchangeable foundation, the granite.

Never had mineralogists found themselves in so marvellous a situationto study nature in situ. What the boring machine, an insensible,inert instrument, was unable to bring to the surface of the innerstructure of the globe, we were able to peruse with our own eyes andhandle with our own hands.

Through the beds of schist, coloured with delicate shades of green,ran in winding course threads of copper and manganese, with traces ofplatinum and gold. I thought, what riches are here buried at anunapproachable depth in the earth, hidden for ever from the covetouseyes of the human race! These treasures have been buried at such aprofound depth by the convulsions of primeval times that they run nochance of ever being molested by the pickaxe or the spade.

To the schists succeeded gneiss, partially stratified, remarkable forthe parallelism and regularity of its lamina, then mica schists, laidin large plates or flakes, revealing their lamellated structure bythe sparkle of the white shining mica.

The light from our apparatus, reflected from the small facets ofquartz, shot sparkling rays at every angle, and I seemed to be movingthrough a diamond, within which the quickly darting rays broke acrosseach other in a thousand flashing coruscations.

About six o'clock this brilliant fete of illuminations underwent asensible abatement of splendour, then almost ceased. The wallsassumed a crystallised though sombre appearance; mica was moreclosely mingled with the feldspar and quartz to form the proper rockyfoundations of the earth, which bears without distortion or crushingthe weight of the four terrestrial systems. We were immured withinprison walls of granite.

It was eight in the evening. No signs of water had yet appeared. Iwas suffering horribly. My uncle strode on. He refused to stop. Hewas listening anxiously for the murmur of distant springs. But, no,there was dead silence.

And now my limbs were failing beneath me. I resisted pain andtorture, that I might not stop my uncle, which would have driven himto despair, for the day was drawing near to its end, and it was hislast.

At last I failed utterly; I uttered a cry and fell.

"Come to me, I am dying."

My uncle retraced his steps. He gazed upon me with his arms crossed;then these muttered words passed his lips:

"It's all over!"

The last thing I saw was a fearful gesture of rage, and my eyesclosed.

When I reopened them I saw my two companions motionless and rolled upin their coverings. Were they asleep? As for me, I could not get onemoment's sleep. I was suffering too keenly, and what embittered mythoughts was that there was no remedy. My uncle's last words echoedpainfully in my ears: "it's all over!" For in such a fearful state ofdebility it was madness to think of ever reaching the upper worldagain.

We had above us a league and a half of terrestrial crust. The weightof it seemed to be crushing down upon my shoulders. I felt weigheddown, and I exhausted myself with imaginary violent exertions to turnround upon my granite couch.

A few hours passed away. A deep silence reigned around us, thesilence of the grave. No sound could reach us through walls, thethinnest of which were five miles thick.

Yet in the midst of my stupefaction I seemed to be aware of a noise.It was dark down the tunnel, but I seemed to see the Icelandervanishing from our sight with the lamp in his hand.

Why was he leaving us? Was Hans going to forsake us? My uncle wasfast asleep. I wanted to shout, but my voice died upon my parched andswollen lips. The darkness became deeper, and the last sound diedaway in the far distance.

"Hans has abandoned us," I cried. "Hans! Hans!"

But these words were only spoken within me. They went no farther. Yetafter the first moment of terror I felt ashamed of suspecting a manof such extraordinary faithfulness. Instead of ascending he wasdescending the gallery. An evil design would have taken him up notdown. This reflection restored me to calmness, and I turned to otherthoughts. None but some weighty motive could have induced so quiet aman to forfeit his sleep. Was he on a journey of discovery? Had heduring the silence of the night caught a sound, a murmuring ofsomething in the distance, which had failed to affect my hearing?