by Jules Verne
CHAPTER XIX.
GEOLOGICAL STUDIES IN SITU
Next day, Tuesday, June 30, at 6 a.m., the descent began again.
We were still following the gallery of lava, a real naturalstaircase, and as gently sloping as those inclined planes which insome old houses are still found instead of flights of steps. And sowe went on until 12.17, the, precise moment when we overtook Hans,who had stopped.
"Ah! here we are," exclaimed my uncle, "at the very end of thechimney."
I looked around me. We were standing at the intersection of tworoads, both dark and narrow. Which were we to take? This was adifficulty.
Still my uncle refused to admit an appearance of hesitation, eitherbefore me or the guide; he pointed out the Eastern tunnel, and wewere soon all three in it.
Besides there would have been interminable hesitation before thischoice of roads; for since there was no indication whatever to guideour choice, we were obliged to trust to chance.
The slope of this gallery was scarcely perceptible, and its sectionsvery unequal. Sometimes we passed a series of arches succeeding eachother like the majestic arcades of a gothic cathedral. Here thearchitects of the middle ages might have found studies for every formof the sacred art which sprang from the development of the pointedarch. A mile farther we had to bow our heads under corniced ellipticarches in the romanesque style; and massive pillars standing out fromthe wall bent under the spring of the vault that rested heavily uponthem. In other places this magnificence gave way to narrow channelsbetween low structures which looked like beaver's huts, and we had tocreep along through extremely narrow passages.
The heat was perfectly bearable. Involuntarily I began to think ofits heat when the lava thrown out by Snaefell was boiling and workingthrough this now silent road. I imagined the torrents of fire hurledback at every angle in the gallery, and the accumulation of intenselyheated vapours in the midst of this confined channel.
I only hope, thought I, that this so-called extinct volcano won'ttake a fancy in his old age to begin his sports again!
I abstained from communicating these fears to Professor Liedenbrock. Hewould never have understood them at all. He had but one idea--forward!He walked, he slid, he scrambled, he tumbled, with a persistency whichone could not but admire.
By six in the evening, after a not very fatiguing walk, we had gonetwo leagues south, but scarcely a quarter of a mile down.
My uncle said it was time to go to sleep. We ate without talking, andwent to sleep without reflection.
Our arrangements for the night were very simple; a railway rug each,into which we rolled ourselves, was our sole covering. We had neithercold nor intrusive visits to fear. Travellers who penetrate into thewilds of central Africa, and into the pathless forests of the NewWorld, are obliged to watch over each other by night. But we enjoyedabsolute safety and utter seclusion; no savages or wild beastsinfested these silent depths.
Next morning, we awoke fresh and in good spirits. The road wasresumed. As the day before, we followed the path of the lava. It wasimpossible to tell what rocks we were passing: the tunnel, instead oftending lower, approached more and more nearly to a horizontaldirection, I even fancied a slight rise. But about ten this upwardtendency became so evident, and therefore so fatiguing, that I wasobliged to slacken my pace.
"Well, Axel?" demanded the Professor impatiently.
"Well, I cannot stand it any longer," I replied.
"What! after three hours' walk over such easy ground."
"It may be easy, but it is tiring all the same."
"What, when we have nothing to do but keep going down!"
"Going up, if you please."
"Going up!" said my uncle, with a shrug.
"No doubt, for the last half-hour the inclines have gone the otherway, and at this rate we shall soon arrive upon the level soil ofIceland."
The Professor nodded slowly and uneasily like a man that declines tobe convinced. I tried to resume the conversation. He answered not aword, and gave the signal for a start. I saw that his silence wasnothing but ill-humour.
Still I had courageously shouldered my burden again, and was rapidlyfollowing Hans, whom my uncle preceded. I was anxious not to be leftbehind. My greatest care was not to lose sight of my companions. Ishuddered at the thought of being lost in the mazes of this vastsubterranean labyrinth.
Besides, if the ascending road did become steeper, I was comfortedwith the thought that it was bringing us nearer to the surface. Therewas hope in this. Every step confirmed me in it, and I was rejoicingat the thought of meeting my little Graeuben again.
By mid-day there was a change in the appearance of this wall of thegallery. I noticed it by a diminution of the amount of lightreflected from the sides; solid rock was appearing in the place ofthe lava coating. The mass was composed of inclined and sometimesvertical strata. We were passing through rocks of the transition orsilurian [1] system.
"It is evident," I cried, "the marine deposits formed in the secondperiod, these shales, limestones, and sandstones. We are turning awayfrom the primary granite. We are just as if we were people of Hamburggoing to Luebeck by way of Hanover!"
I had better have kept my observations to myself. But my geologicalinstinct was stronger than my prudence, and uncle Liedenbrock heardmy exclamation.
"What's that you are saying?" he asked.
"See," I said, pointing to the varied series of sandstones andlimestones, and the first indication of slate.
"Well?"
"We are at the period when the first plants and animals appeared."
"Do you think so?"
"Look close, and examine."
I obliged the Professor to move his lamp over the walls of thegallery. I expected some signs of astonishment; but he spoke not aword, and went on.
Had he understood me or not? Did he refuse to admit, out of self-loveas an uncle and a philosopher, that he had mistaken his way when hechose the eastern tunnel? or was he determined to examine thispassage to its farthest extremity? It was evident that we had leftthe lava path, and that this road could not possibly lead to theextinct furnace of Snaefell.
Yet I asked myself if I was not depending too much on this change inthe rock. Might I not myself be mistaken? Were we really crossing thelayers of rock which overlie the granite foundation?
[1]The name given by Sir Roderick Murchison to a vast series offossiliferous strata, which lies between the non-fossiliferous slatyschists below and the old red sandstone above. The system is welldeveloped in the region of Shropshire, etc., once inhabited by theSilures under Caractacus, or Caradoc. (Tr.)
If I am right, I thought, I must soon find some fossil remains ofprimitive life; and then we must yield to evidence. I will look.
I had not gone a hundred paces before incontestable proofs presentedthemselves. It could not be otherwise, for in the Silurian age theseas contained at least fifteen hundred vegetable and animal species.My feet, which had become accustomed to the indurated lava floor,suddenly rested upon a dust composed of the _debris_ of plants andshells. In the walls were distinct impressions of fucoids andlycopodites.
Professor Liedenbrock could not be mistaken, I thought, and yet hepushed on, with, I suppose, his eyes resolutely shut.
This was only invincible obstinacy. I could hold out no longer. Ipicked up a perfectly formed shell, which had belonged to an animalnot unlike the woodlouse: then, joining my uncle, I said:
"Look at this!"
"Very well," said he quietly, "it is the shell of a crustacean, of anextinct species called a trilobite. Nothing more."
"But don't you conclude--?"
"Just what you conclude yourself. Yes; I do, perfectly. We have leftthe granite and the lava. It is possible that I may be mistaken. ButI cannot be sure of that until I have reached the very end of thisgallery."
"You are right in doing this, my uncle, and I should quite approve ofyour determination, if there were not a danger threatening us nearerand nearer."
"What danger?"
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"The want of water."
"Well, Axel, we will put ourselves upon rations."