A Journey To The Center Of The Earth Part 15

"Eleven o'clock at night, it's Sunday today, August 9, and I won't allow you to ask any more questions until the 10th."

In truth I was very weak, and my eyes closed involuntarily. I needed a good night's rest; and I therefore let myself doze off with the thought that my isolation had lasted four long days.

Next morning, on awakening, I looked around me. My bed, made up of all our traveling blankets, had been made in a charming grotto, adorned with splendid stalagmites, and whose ground was covered with fine sand. It was half-dark. There was no torch, no lamp, yet an explicable lightness from outside seeped in through a narrow opening in the grotto. I also heard a vague and indistinct noise, something like the murmuring of waves breaking on a pebbled sh.o.r.e, and at times the whistling of wind.

I wondered whether I was really awake, whether I was still dreaming, whether my brain, injured by the fall, was not perceiving purely imaginary noises. Yet neither eyes nor ears could be so utterly deceived.

"It's a ray of daylight," I thought, "seeping in through this cleft in the rock! That really is the murmuring of waves! That's the whistling of wind! Am I quite mistaken, or have we returned to the surface of the earth? Has my uncle given up the expedition, or might it have happily concluded?"

I was asking myself these unanswerable questions when the professor entered.

"Good morning, Axel!" he said joyfully. "I bet that you're doing well."

"Yes, indeed," I said, sitting up on the blankets.

"You should be, because you've slept quietly. Hans and I watched you by turns, and we noticed that your recovery was making good progress."

"Indeed, I do feel a great deal better, and I'll give you proof of that presently if you'll let me have my breakfast."

"You'll eat, my lad. The fever has left you. Hans rubbed your wounds with some ointment or other of which the Icelanders keep the secret, and they've healed marvelously. Our hunter is a splendid fellow!"

While he talked, my uncle prepared a few provisions, which I devoured eagerly, in spite of his instructions. All the while I overwhelmed him with questions which he answered promptly.

I then learned that my providential fall had brought me exactly to the extremity of an almost vertical shaft; and as I had landed in the midst of an accompanying torrent of stones, the least of which would have been enough to crush me, the conclusion was that a part of the rock ma.s.s had come down with me. This frightening vehicle had transported me in this way to the arms of my uncle, where I fell bleeding, unconscious.

"Really," he said to me, "it's amazing that you've not been killed a hundred times over. But, by G.o.d, let's not separate again, or we risk never seeing each other again."

"Not separate!" The journey was not over, then? I opened my eyes wide in astonishment, which immediately triggered the question: "What's the matter, Axel?"

"I have a question to ask you. You say that I'm safe and sound?"

"Undoubtedly"

"And all my limbs unbroken?"

"Certainly."

"And my head?"

"Your head, except for a few bruises, is perfectly fine and on your shoulders, where it ought to be."

"Well then, I'm afraid my brain is troubled."

"Troubled!"

"Yes. We haven't returned to the surface of the globe?"

"No, certainly not!"

"Then I must be crazy, because I see daylight, I hear the wind blowing, and the sea breaking on the sh.o.r.e!"

"Ah! is that all?"

"Will you explain ...?"

"I won't explain anything because it's inexplicable; but you'll soon see and understand that the science of geology has not spoken its last word yet."

"Then let's go," I exclaimed, rising up quickly.

"No, Axel, no! The open air might be bad for you."

"Open air?"

"Yes, the wind is rather strong. I don't want you to expose yourself like that."

"But I a.s.sure you that I'm perfectly well."

"A little patience, my boy. A relapse would get us into trouble, and we have no time to lose, because the pa.s.sage may be long."

"The pa.s.sage?"

"Yes, rest today, and tomorrow we'll set sail."

"Set sail!"

This last word made me jump up.

What! Set sail! Did we then have a river, a lake, a sea at our disposal ? Was there a ship anch.o.r.ed in some underground harbor?

My curiosity was aroused to the maximum. My uncle tried in vain to restrain me. When he saw that my impatience would do me more harm than satisfying my desire, he gave in.

I dressed in haste. As a precaution, I wrapped myself in one of the blankets, and stepped out of the grotto.

x.x.x.

AT FIRST I SAW nothing. My eyes, unaccustomed to the light, closed quickly. When I was able to reopen them, I stood more stunned even than amazed.

"The sea!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," my uncle replied, "the Lidenbrock Sea, and I like to believe that no other navigator will ever dispute me the honor of discovery and the right to name it after myself!"

A vast surface of water, the beginnings of a lake or an ocean, spread far away beyond the range of the eye. The deeply indented sh.o.r.e met the lapping of the waves with a fine, golden sand, strewn with those small sh.e.l.ls that were once inhabited by the first beings of creation. The waves broke on this sh.o.r.e with the resonant murmur that is typical of vast enclosed s.p.a.ces. A light foam was blown away by the breeze of a moderate wind, and some spray fell on my face. On this gently sloping sh.o.r.e, about a hundred fathoms from the edge of the waves, rested the foot of enormous cliffs that rose up widening to an immeasurable height. Some of them, dividing the beach with their sharp ridge, formed capes and promontories eaten away by the erosive force of the surf. Farther on, the eye discerned their sharply outlined ma.s.s against the hazy background of the horizon.

It was a real ocean, with the irregular outline of earthly sh.o.r.es, but deserted and frighteningly wild.

If my eyes were able to range widely over this great sea, it was because a special "light" illuminated its most minor details. It was not the light of the sun, with its shafts of brightness and the splendid radiation of its beams, nor was it the pale and uncertain gleam of the night star, which is only a reflection without heat. No. The illuminating power of this light, its trembling diffusiveness, its clear, dry whiteness, its low temperature and its brightness which surpa.s.sed that of the moon showed that it must obviously be of electric origin. It was like an aurora borealis, a constant cosmic phenomenon that filled a cavern large enough to contain an ocean.

The vault suspended above my head, the sky, so to speak, seemed made up of vast clouds, shifting and moving steam, which through condensation had to turn into torrential rain on certain days. I would have thought that under such high atmospheric pressure, there could be no evaporation; and yet, for a physical reason that eluded me, large clouds of steam extended in the air. But at that time 'the weather was good.' The electric layers produced astonishing effects of light on the highest clouds. Deep shadows were sketched on their lower wreaths, and often, between two separate layers, a beam pierced through to us with remarkable intensity. But overall it was not the sun because its light had no heat. Its effect was sad, supremely melancholy. Instead of a firmament glittering with stars, I sensed a granite vault above these clouds that crushed me with all its weight, and all this s.p.a.ce, enormous it was, would not have been enough for the movement of the humblest satellite.

Then I remembered the theory of an English captain, who likened the earth to a vast hollow sphere,ay inside of which the air remained luminous because of the immense pressure, while its two stars, Pluto and Proserpine, inside of which the air remained luminous because of the immense pressure, while its two stars, Pluto and Proserpine,az followed their mysterious...o...b..ts there. Could he have been right? followed their mysterious...o...b..ts there. Could he have been right?

We were in reality imprisoned inside an immense cavity. Its width was impossible to judge, since the sh.o.r.e ran as far as the eye could reach, and so was its length, for the eye soon came to a halt at a somewhat indistinct horizon. As for its height, it must have exceeded several leagues. Where this vault rested on its granite base no eye could tell; but there was a cloud suspended in the atmosphere whose height we estimated at two thousand fathoms, a greater height than that of any terrestrial steam, due no doubt to the considerable density of the air.

The word "cavern" obviously does not convey any idea of this immense s.p.a.ce; but the words of the human language are inadequate for one who ventures into the abyss of earth.

I did not know, at any rate, what geological fact would explain the existence of such a cavity. Had the cooling of the globe been able to produce it? I knew of certain famous caverns from the descriptions of travelers, but had never heard of any with such dimensions.

Even if the grotto of Guachara in Colombia, visited by Humboldt, ba ba had not yielded the secret of its depth to the scholar who explored 2,500 feet of it, it probably did not extend much farther. The immense mammoth cave in Kentucky is of gigantic proportions, since its vaulted roof rises five hundred feet above an unfathomable lake, and travelers have explored more than ten leagues without finding the end. But what were these cavities compared to the one which I was now admiring, with its sky of steam, its electric radiation, and its vast enclosed ocean? My imagination felt powerless before such immensity. had not yielded the secret of its depth to the scholar who explored 2,500 feet of it, it probably did not extend much farther. The immense mammoth cave in Kentucky is of gigantic proportions, since its vaulted roof rises five hundred feet above an unfathomable lake, and travelers have explored more than ten leagues without finding the end. But what were these cavities compared to the one which I was now admiring, with its sky of steam, its electric radiation, and its vast enclosed ocean? My imagination felt powerless before such immensity.

I gazed on all these wonders in silence. Words failed me to express my feelings. I felt as if I were witnessing phenomena on some distant planet, Ura.n.u.s or Neptune, of which my "terrestrial" nature had no knowledge. For such novel sensations, new words were needed, and my imagination failed to supply them. I gazed, I thought, I admired with amazement mingled with a certain amount of fear.

The unforeseen nature of this spectacle brought healthy color back to my cheeks. I treated myself with astonishment, and was effecting a cure with this new therapy; besides, the keenness of the very dense air reinvigorated me, supplying more oxygen to my lungs.

It will be easy to understand that after an imprisonment of forty-seven days in a narrow tunnel, it was an infinite pleasure to breathe this air full of moisture and salt.

So I had no reason to regret that I had left my dark grotto. My uncle, already used to these wonders, was no longer astonished.

"You feel strong enough to walk a little?" he asked me.

"Yes, certainly," I answered, "and nothing could be more pleasant."

"Well, take my arm, Axel, and let's follow the meanderings of the sh.o.r.e."

I eagerly accepted, and we began to walk along the edge of this new ocean. On the left steep cliffs, piled on top of one another, formed a t.i.tanic heap with a prodigious appearance. Down their sides flowed innumerable waterfalls, which turned into limpid, resounding streams. A few bits of steam, leaping from rock to rock, marked the location of hot springs, and streams flowed gently toward the shared basin, taking the slopes as an opportunity to murmur even more pleasantly.

Among these streams I recognized our faithful traveling companion, the Hansbach, which came to lose itself quietly in the ocean, just as if it had done nothing else since the beginning of the world.

"We'll miss it," I said, with a sigh.

"Bah!" replied the professor, "this one or another one, what does it matter?"

I found this remark rather ungrateful.

But at that moment my attention was attracted to an unexpected spectacle. At a distance of five hundred feet, at the turn of a high promontory, a high, tufted, dense forest appeared before our eyes. It consisted of moderately tall trees shaped like normal parasols, with precise geometrical outlines. The currents of wind seemed to have no impact on their leaves, and in the midst of the breezes they stood unswerving like a clump of petrified cedars.

I hastened forward. I could not give a name to these peculiar specimens. Did they not form part of the two hundred thousand plant species known to date, and was it necessary to give them a place of their own among the water plants? No. When we arrived in their shade my surprise turned into admiration.

In fact, I was facing products of the earth, but grown to gigantic stature. My uncle immediately called them by their name.

"It's just a forest of mushrooms," he said.

And he was right. Imagine the development of these plants, which prefer a warm, moist climate. I knew that according to Bulliard, bb bb the Lycoperdon the Lycoperdon giganteum giganteum reaches a circ.u.mference of eight or nine feet; but these were white mushrooms thirty to forty feet tall, with a cap of the same diameter. There they stood by the thousands. No light could penetrate into their shade, and complete darkness reigned beneath these juxtaposed domes that resembled the round, thatched roofs of an African town. reaches a circ.u.mference of eight or nine feet; but these were white mushrooms thirty to forty feet tall, with a cap of the same diameter. There they stood by the thousands. No light could penetrate into their shade, and complete darkness reigned beneath these juxtaposed domes that resembled the round, thatched roofs of an African town.

Yet I wanted to go further. A deadly cold descended from these fleshy vaults. For half an hour we wandered in the humid darkness, and it was with a genuine feeling of well-being that I returned to the seash.o.r.e.

But the vegetation of this subterranean region was not limited to mushrooms. Farther on there were cl.u.s.ters of tall trees with faded foliage. They were easy to identify; these were the lowly shrubs of earth in prodigious sizes, lycopods a hundred feet tall, giant sigillarias, tree ferns as tall as pines in northern lat.i.tudes, lepidodendra with cylindrical forked stems ending in long leaves and bristling with coa.r.s.e hairs like monstrous fat plants.

"Amazing, magnificent, splendid!" exclaimed my uncle. "Here is the entire flora of the Secondary period of the world, the Transition period. Look at these humble garden plants that were trees in the early ages of the globe! Look, Axel, and admire them! Never has a botanist been at a celebration such as this!"

"You're right, Uncle. In this immense greenhouse, Providence seems to have wanted to preserve the prehistoric plants which the wisdom of scholars has so successfully reconstructed."

"You put it well, my boy, it is a greenhouse; but you'd put it even better if you added that it's perhaps a zoo."

"A zoo."

"Yes, no doubt. Look at this dust under our feet, these bones scattered on the ground."

"Bones!" I exclaimed. "Yes, bones of prehistoric animals!"

I rushed toward these centuries-old remains made of an indestructible mineral substance.bc Without hesitation I could name these gigantic bones that resembled dried-up trunks of trees. Without hesitation I could name these gigantic bones that resembled dried-up trunks of trees.

"Here is the lower jaw of a mastodon," I said. "These are the molar teeth of the deinotherium; this femur must have belonged to the greatest of those beasts, the megatherium.bd It certainly is a zoo, for these remains were not brought here by a cataclysm. The animals to whom they belonged lived on the sh.o.r.es of this subterranean sea, under the shade of those tree-sized plants. Look, I see entire skeletons. And yet..." It certainly is a zoo, for these remains were not brought here by a cataclysm. The animals to whom they belonged lived on the sh.o.r.es of this subterranean sea, under the shade of those tree-sized plants. Look, I see entire skeletons. And yet..."

"And yet?" said my uncle.

"I don't understand the presence of such quadrupeds in this granite cavern."

"Why?"

"Because animal life existed on the earth only in the Secondary period, when a sedimentary soil had been created through alluvial deposits and had taken the place of the white-hot rocks of the Primitive period."

"Well, Axel, there's a very simple answer to your objection, and that is that this soil is alluvial."

"What! at such a depth below the surface of the earth?"

"No doubt; and there's a geological explanation for this fact. At a certain period the earth consisted only of a flexible crust, subject to alternating movements from above or below, by virtue of the laws of gravity. Probably there were landslides, and some alluvial soil was precipitated to the bottom of these chasms that had suddenly opened up."

"That must be it. But if prehistoric animals have lived in these underground regions, who says that one of these monsters is not still roaming in these gloomy forests or behind these steep crags?"

At this thought, I surveyed the various directions not without fear; but no living creature appeared on the barren strand.

I felt rather tired, and went to sit down at the end of a promontory, at whose foot the waves broke noisily. From here my view included this entire bay formed by an indentation of the coast. In the background, a little harbor lay between pyramidal cliffs. Its still water rested untouched by the wind. A brig and two or three schooners could easily have cast anchor in it. I almost expected to see some ship leave it with sails set and take to the open sea under the southern breeze.

But this illusion vanished quickly. We were the only living creatures in this subterranean world. When there was a lull in the wind, a silence deeper than that of the desert fell on the arid rocks and weighed down on the surface of the ocean. I then tried to pierce the distant haze and to tear the curtain that hung across the mysterious horizon. What questions lay at the tip of my tongue? Where did that ocean end? Where did it lead to? Could we ever explore its opposite sh.o.r.es?

These were white mushrooms thirty to forty feet tall.

My uncle had no doubt about it. I both desired and feared it at the same time.

After spending an hour in the contemplation of this marvelous spectacle, we walked back on the pebbles to the grotto, and I fell into a deep sleep in the midst of the strangest thoughts.