XXVI

XXVI

IT WAS TRUE THAT so far things had gone well, and it would have been ungraceful of me to complain. If the ‘average’ number of difficulties did not increase, we could not fail to reach our goal. And then, what glory! I had come around to reasoning in this way, quite like a Lidenbrock. Seriously. Was this due to the strange environment in which I was living? Perhaps.

For several days steeper slopes, some even frighteningly vertical, took us deep into the interior rock. Some days we got a league and a half or two leagues closer to the center. Dangerous descents, during which Hans’ skill and marvelous calm were very useful to us. That impassive Icelander devoted himself with incomprehensible unconcern to his tasks; and thanks to him, we overcame more than one dangerous spot that we would never have cleared alone.

But his silence increased day by day. I believe it even infected us. External forces have real effects on the brain. Whoever shuts himself up between four walls soon loses the power to bring words and ideas together. How many prisoners in solitary confinement become idiots, if not mad, for lack of exercise for their thinking faculty!

During the two weeks following our last conversation, no incident worthy of reporting occurred. I only find in my memory a single, very important event, for good reason. It would have been difficult for me to forget even its slightest detail.

By August 7, our successive descents had taken us to a depth of thirty leagues, which means that there were thirty leagues of rock, ocean, continents, and towns over our heads. We must have been two hundred leagues from Iceland then.

On that day the tunnel went down a gentle slope.

I was ahead of the others. My uncle was carrying one of the Ruhmkorff devices and myself the other. I was examining layers of granite.

Suddenly, when I turned around, I found that I was alone.

“Well,” I thought, “I’ve gone too fast, or Hans and my uncle have stopped on the way. Let’s go, I must join them again. Fortunately the path doesn’t go up appreciably.”

I retraced my steps. I walked for a quarter of an hour. I looked. Nobody. I called. No response. My voice was lost in the midst of the cavernous echoes it suddenly called forth.

I began to feel uneasy. A shudder ran all over my body.

“A bit of calm!” I said aloud to myself, “I’m sure I’ll find my companions again. There’s only one path. Now, I was ahead, so let’s go further back!”

For half an hour I climbed back up. I listened for a call, and in that dense atmosphere, it could come from far away. An extraordinary silence reigned in the immense tunnel.

I stopped. I could not believe my isolation. I had only strayed from the path, not lost my way completely. After having strayed, one finds one’s path again.

“Let’s see,” I repeated, “since there’s only one path, and since they’re on it, I must run into them. I just have to go further up. Unless, when they didn’t see me, they forgot that I was ahead, and retraced their steps also. Well! Even in that case, if I hurry up, I’ll find them again. It’s obvious!”

I repeated these last words like a man who is not convinced. In addition, even coming up with these simple ideas and bringing them together in coherent reasoning took me a very long time.

A doubt then assailed me. Was I really ahead? Yes, Hans followed me, preceding my uncle. He had even stopped for a few moments to strap his baggage more tightly to his shoulder. This detail came back to me. It was at that very moment that I must have continued on my way.

“Besides,” I thought, “I have a reliable means of not getting lost, a thread that cannot break to guide me in this labyrinth, my faithful stream. All I have to do is to follow its course in reverse, and I’ll inevitably find the traces of my companions.”

This reasoning revived me, and I decided to go on my way again without losing a moment.

How I blessed my uncle’s foresight then in keeping the hunter from stopping up the hole in the granite wall! This beneficent spring, which had quenched our thirst on the route, would now guide me through the meanderings of the earth’s crust.

Before starting out, I thought a wash would do me good.

I bent down to bathe my forehead in the Hansbach.

Who can imagine my dismay!

I touched dry, rough granite! The stream no longer ran at my feet!