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A JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH - 39

A JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH

By Jules Verne

CHAPTER 39

THE EXPLOSION AND ITS RESULTS

The next day, which was the twenty-seventh of August, was a date

celebrated in our wondrous subterranean journey. I never think of it

even now, but I shudder with horror. My heart beats wildly at the very

memory of that awful day.

From this time forward, our reason, our judgment, our human ingenuity,

have nothing to do with the course of events. We are about to become the

plaything of the great phenomena of the earth!

At six o'clock we were all up and ready. The dreaded moment was arriving

when we were about to seek an opening into the interior of the earth by

means of gunpowder. What would be the consequences of breaking through

the crust of the earth?

I begged that it might be my duty to set fire to the mine. I looked upon

it as an honor. This task once performed, I could rejoin my friends upon

the raft, which had not been unloaded. As soon as we were all ready, we

were to sail away to some distance to avoid the consequences of the

explosion, the effects of which would certainly not be concentrated in

the interior of the earth.

The slow match we calculated to burn for about ten minutes, more or

less, before it reached the chamber in which the great body of powder

was confined. I should therefore have plenty of time to reach the raft

and put off to a safe distance.

I prepared to execute my self-allotted task--not, it must be confessed,

without considerable emotion.

After a hearty repast, my uncle and the hunter-guide embarked on board

the raft, while I remained alone upon the desolate shore.

I was provided with a lantern which was to enable me to set fire to the

wick of the infernal machine.

"Go, my boy," said my uncle, "and Heaven be with you. But come back as

soon as you can. I shall be all impatience."

"Be easy on that matter," I replied, "there is no fear of my delaying on

the road."

Having said this, I advanced toward the opening of the somber gallery.

My heart beat wildly. I opened my lantern and seized the extremity of

the wick.

The Professor, who was looking on, held his chronometer in his hand.

"Are you ready?" cried he.

"Quite ready."

"Well, then, fire away!"

I hastened to put the light to the wick, which crackled and sparkled,

hissing and spitting like a serpent; then, running as fast as I could, I

returned to the shore.

"Get on board, my lad, and you, Hans, shove off," cried my uncle.

By a vigorous application of his pole Hans sent us flying over the

water. The raft was quite twenty fathoms distant.

It was a moment of palpitating interest, of deep anxiety. My uncle, the

Professor, never took his eyes off the chronometer.

"Only five minutes more," he said in a low tone, "only four, only

three."

My pulse went a hundred to the minute. I could hear my heart beating.

"Only two, one! Now, then, mountains of granite, crumble beneath the

power of man!"

What happened after that? As to the terrific roar of the explosion, I do

not think I heard it. But the form of the rocks completely changed in my

eyes--they seemed to be drawn aside like a curtain. I saw a fathomless,

a bottomless abyss, which yawned beneath the turgid waves. The sea,

which seemed suddenly to have gone mad, then became one great

mountainous mass, upon the top of which the raft rose perpendicularly.

We were all thrown down. In less than a second the light gave place to

the most profound obscurity. Then I felt all solid support give way not

to my feet, but to the raft itself. I thought it was going bodily down a

tremendous well. I tried to speak, to question my uncle. Nothing could

be heard but the roaring of the mighty waves. We clung together in utter

silence.

Despite the awful darkness, despite the noise, the surprise, the

emotion, I thoroughly understood what had happened.

Beyond the rock which had been blown up, there existed a mighty abyss.

The explosion had caused a kind of earthquake in this soil, broken by

fissures and rents. The gulf, thus suddenly thrown open, was about to

swallow the inland sea which, transformed into a mighty torrent, was

dragging us with it.

Only one idea filled my mind. We were utterly and completely lost!

One hour, two hours--what more I cannot say, passed in this manner. We

sat close together, elbow touching elbow, knee touching knee! We held

one another's hands not to be thrown off the raft. We were subjected to

the most violent shocks, whenever our sole dependence, a frail wooden

raft, struck against the rocky sides of the channel. Fortunately for us,

these concussions became less and less frequent, which made me fancy

that the gallery was getting wider and wider. There could be now no

doubt that we had chanced upon the road once followed by Saknussemm, but

instead of going down in a proper manner, we had, through our own

imprudence, drawn a whole sea with us!

These ideas presented themselves to my mind in a very vague and obscure

manner. I felt rather than reasoned. I put my ideas together only

confusedly, while spinning along like a man going down a waterfall. To

judge by the air which, as it were, whipped my face, we must have been

rushing at a perfectly lightning rate.

To attempt under these circumstances to light a torch was simply

impossible, and the last remains of our electric machine, of our

Ruhmkorff coil, had been destroyed during the fearful explosion.

I was therefore very much confused to see at last a bright light shining

close to me. The calm countenance of the guide seemed to gleam upon me.

The clever and patient hunter had succeeded in lighting the lantern; and

though, in the keen and thorough draft, the flame flickered and

vacillated and was nearly put out, it served partially to dissipate the

awful obscurity.

The gallery into which we had entered was very wide. I was, therefore,

quite right in that part of my conjecture. The insufficient light did

not allow us to see both of the walls at the same time. The slope of

waters, which was carrying us away, was far greater than that of the

most rapid river of America. The whole surface of the stream seemed to

be composed of liquid arrows, darted forward with extreme violence and

power. I can give no idea of the impression it made upon me.

The raft, at times, caught in certain whirlpools, and rushed forward,

yet turned on itself all the time. How it did not upset I shall never be

able to understand. When it approached the sides of the gallery, I took

care to throw upon them the light of the lantern, and I was able to

judge of the rapidity of motion by looking at the projecting masses of

rock, which as soon as seen were again invisible. So rapid was our

progress that points of rock at a considerable distance one from the

other appeared like portions of transverse lines, which enclosed us in a

kind of net, like that of a line of telegraphic wires.

I believe we were now going at a rate of not less than a hundred miles

an hour.

My uncle and I looked at one another with wild and haggard eyes; we

clung convulsively to the stump of the mast, which, at the moment when

the catastrophe took place, had snapped short off. We turned our backs

as much as possible to the wind, in order not to be stifled by a

rapidity of motion which nothing human could face and live.

And still the long monotonous hours went on. The situation did not

change in the least, though a discovery I suddenly made seemed to

complicate it very much.

When we had slightly recovered our equilibrium, I proceeded to examine

our cargo. I then made the unsatisfactory discovery that the greater

part of it had utterly disappeared.

I became alarmed, and determined to discover what were our resources. My

heart beat at the idea, but it was absolutely necessary to know on what

we had to depend. With this view, I took the lantern and looked around.

Of all our former collection of nautical and philosophical instruments,

there remained only the chronometer and the compass. The ladders and

ropes were reduced to a small piece of rope fastened to the stump of the

mast. Not a pickax, not a crowbar, not a hammer, and, far worse than

all, no food--not enough for one day!

This discovery was a prelude to a certain and horrible death.

Seated gloomily on the raft, clasping the stump of the mast

mechanically, I thought of all I had read as to sufferings from

starvation.

I remembered everything that history had taught me on the subject, and I

shuddered at the remembrance of the agonies to be endured.

Maddened at the prospects of enduring the miseries of starvation, I

persuaded myself that I must be mistaken. I examined the cracks in the

raft; I poked between the joints and beams; I examined every possible

hole and corner. The result was--simply nothing!

Our stock of provisions consisted of nothing but a piece of dry meat and

some soaked and half-moldy biscuits.

I gazed around me scared and frightened. I could not understand the

awful truth. And yet of what consequence was it in regard to any new

danger? Supposing that we had had provisions for months, and even for

years, how could we ever get out of the awful abyss into which we were

being hurled by the irresistible torrent we had let loose?

Why should we trouble ourselves about the sufferings and tortures to be

endured from hunger when death stared us in the face under so many other

swifter and perhaps even more horrid forms?

It was very doubtful, under the circumstances in which we were placed,

if we should have time to die of inanition.

But the human frame is singularly constituted.

I know not how it was; but, from some singular hallucination of the

mind, I forgot the real, serious, and immediate danger to which we were

exposed, to think of the menaces of the future, which appeared before us

in all their naked terror. Besides, after all, suggested Hope, perhaps

we might finally escape the fury of the raging torrent, and once more

revisit the glimpses of the moon, on the surface of our beautiful Mother

Earth.

How was it to be done? I had not the remotest idea. Where were we to

come out? No matter, so that we did.

One chance in a thousand is always a chance, while death from hunger

gave us not even the faintest glimpse of hope. It left to the

imagination nothing but blank horror, without the faintest chance of

escape!

I had the greatest mind to reveal all to my uncle, to explain to him the

extraordinary and wretched position to which we were reduced, in order

that, between the two, we might make a calculation as to the exact space

of time which remained for us to live.

It was, it appeared to me, the only thing to be done. But I had the

courage to hold my tongue, to gnaw at my entrails like the Spartan boy.

I wished to leave him all his coolness.

At this moment, the light of the lantern slowly fell, and at last went

out!

The wick had wholly burnt to an end. The obscurity became absolute. It

was no longer possible to see through the impenetrable darkness! There

was one torch left, but it was impossible to keep it alight. Then, like

a child, I shut my eyes, that I might not see the darkness.

After a great lapse of time, the rapidity of our journey increased. I

could feel it by the rush of air upon my face. The slope of the waters

was excessive. I began to feel that we were no longer going down a

slope; we were falling. I felt as one does in a dream, going down

bodily--falling; falling; falling!

I felt that the hands of my uncle and Hans were vigorously clasping my

arms.

Suddenly, after a lapse of time scarcely appreciable, I felt something

like a shock. The raft had not struck a hard body, but had suddenly been

checked in its course. A waterspout, a liquid column of water, fell upon

us. I felt suffocating. I was being drowned.

Still the sudden inundation did not last. In a few seconds I felt myself

once more able to breathe. My uncle and Hans pressed my arms, and the

raft carried us all three away.