“It is just as I thought,” said my uncle, after a moment of two of silent attention. “We are in a narrow well about four fathoms square. The waters of the great inland sea, having reached the bottom of the gulf, are now forcing themselves up the mighty shaft. As a natural consequence, we are being cast up on the summit of the waters.”
“That I can see,” was my lugubrious reply; “but where will this shaft end, and to what fall are we likely to be exposed?”
“Of that I am as ignorant as yourself. All I know is, that we should be prepared for the worst. We are going up at a fearfully rapid rate. As far as I can judge, we are ascending at the rate of two fathoms a second, of a hundred and twenty fathoms a minute, or rather more than three and a half leagues an hour. At this rate, our fate will soon be a matter of certainty.”
“No doubt of it,” was my reply. “The great concern I have now, however, is to know whether this shaft has any issue. It may end in a granite roof—in which case we shall be suffocated by compressed air, or dashed to atoms against the top. I fancy, already, that the air is beginning to be close and condensed. I have a difficulty in breathing.”
This might be fancy, or it might be the effect of our rapid motion, but I certainly felt a great oppression of the chest.
“Henry,” said the Professor, “I do believe that the situation is to a certain extent desperate. There remain, however, many chances of ultimate safety, and I have, in my own mind, been revolving them over, during your heavy but agitated sleep. I have come to this logical conclusion—whereas we may at any moment perish, so at any moment we may be saved! We need, therefore, prepare ourselves for whatever may turn up in the great chapter of accidents.”
“But what would you have us do?” I cried. “Are we not utterly helpless?”
“No! While there is life there is hope. At all events, there is one thing we can do—eat, and thus obtain strength to face victory or death.”
As he spoke, I looked at my uncle with a haggard glance. I had put off the fatal communication as long as possible. It was now forced upon me, and I must tell him the truth. Still I hesitated.
“Eat,” I said, in a deprecating tone as if there were no hurry.
“Yes, and at once. I feel like a starving prisoner,” he said, rubbing his yellow and shivering hands together.
And, turning around to the guide, he spoke some hearty, cheering words, as I judged from his tone, in Danish. Hans shook his head in a terribly significant manner. I tried to look unconcerned.
“What!” cried the Professor, “you do not mean to say that all our provisions are lost?”
“Yes,” was my lowly spoken reply, as I held out something in my hand, “this morsel of dried meat is all that remains for us three.”
My uncle gazed at me as if he could not fully appreciate the meaning of my words. The blow seemed to stun him by its severity. I allowed him to reflect for some moments.
“Well,” said I, after a short pause, “what do you think now? Is there any chance of our escaping from our horrible subterranean dangers? Are we not doomed to perish in the great hollows of the center of the earth?”
But my pertinent questions brought no answer. My uncle either heard me not, or appeared not to do so.
And in this way a whole hour passed. Neither of us cared to speak. For myself, I began to feel the most fearful and devouring hunger. My companions, doubtless, felt the same horrible tortures, but neither of them would touch the wretched morsel of meat that remained. It lay there, a last remnant of all our great preparations for the mad and senseless journey!
I looked back with wonderment, to my own folly. Fully was I aware that, despite his enthusiasm, and the ever-to-be-hated scroll of Saknussemm, my uncle should never have started on his perilous voyage. What memories of the happy past, what previsions of the horrible future, now filled my brain!