a journey to the centre of the earth by jules verne [redactor's note: journey to the centre of the earth is number v in the taves and michaluk numbering of the works of jules verne. first published in england by griffith and farran, , this edition is not a translation at all but a complete re-write of the novel, with portions added and omitted, and names changed. the most reprinted version, it is entered into project gutenberg for reference purposes only. a better translation is _a journey into the interior of the earth_ translated by rev. f. a. malleson, also available on project gutenberg.] table of contents chapter my uncle makes a great discovery chapter the mysterious parchment chapter an astounding discovery chapter we start on the journey chapter first lessons in climbing chapter our voyage to iceland chapter conversation and discovery chapter the eider-down hunter--off at last chapter our start--we meet with adventures by the way chapter traveling in iceland chapter we reach mount sneffels--the "reykir" chapter the ascent of mount sneffels chapter the shadow of scartaris chapter the real journey commences chapter we continue our descent chapter the eastern tunnel chapter deeper and deeper--the coal mine chapter the wrong road! chapter the western gallery--a new route chapter water, where is it? a bitter disappointment chapter under the ocean chapter sunday below ground chapter alone chapter lost! chapter the whispering gallery chapter a rapid recovery chapter the central sea chapter launching the raft chapter on the waters--a raft voyage chapter terrific saurian combat chapter the sea monster chapter the battle of the elements chapter our route reversed chapter a voyage of discovery chapter discovery upon discovery chapter what is it? chapter the mysterious dagger chapter no outlet--blasting the rock chapter the explosion and its results chapter the ape gigans chapter hunger chapter the volcanic shaft chapter daylight at last chapter the journey ended chapter my uncle makes a great discovery looking back to all that has occurred to me since that eventful day, i am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures. they were truly so wonderful that even now i am bewildered when i think of them. my uncle was a german, having married my mother's sister, an englishwoman. being very much attached to his fatherless nephew, he invited me to study under him in his home in the fatherland. this home was in a large town, and my uncle a professor of philosophy, chemistry, geology, mineralogy, and many other ologies. one day, after passing some hours in the laboratory--my uncle being absent at the time--i suddenly felt the necessity of renovating the tissues--<i>i.e.</i>, i was hungry, and was about to rouse up our old french cook, when my uncle, professor von hardwigg, suddenly opened the street door, and came rushing upstairs. now professor hardwigg, my worthy uncle, is by no means a bad sort of man; he is, however, choleric and original. to bear with him means to obey; and scarcely had his heavy feet resounded within our joint domicile than he shouted for me to attend upon him. "harry--harry--harry--" i hastened to obey, but before i could reach his room, jumping three steps at a time, he was stamping his right foot upon the landing. "harry!" he cried, in a frantic tone, "are you coming up?" now to tell the truth, at that moment i was far more interested in the question as to what was to constitute our dinner than in any problem of science; to me soup was more interesting than soda, an omelette more tempting than arithmetic, and an artichoke of ten times more value than any amount of asbestos. but my uncle was not a man to be kept waiting; so adjourning therefore all minor questions, i presented myself before him. he was a very learned man. now most persons in this category supply themselves with information, as peddlers do with goods, for the benefit of others, and lay up stores in order to diffuse them abroad for the benefit of society in general. not so my excellent uncle, professor hardwigg; he studied, he consumed the midnight oil, he pored over heavy tomes, and digested huge quartos and folios in order to keep the knowledge acquired to himself. there was a reason, and it may be regarded as a good one, why my uncle objected to display his learning more than was absolutely necessary: he stammered; and when intent upon explaining the phenomena of the heavens, was apt to find himself at fault, and allude in such a vague way to sun, moon, and stars that few were able to comprehend his meaning. to tell the honest truth, when the right word would not come, it was generally replaced by a very powerful adjective. in connection with the sciences there are many almost unpronounceable names--names very much resembling those of welsh villages; and my uncle being very fond of using them, his habit of stammering was not thereby improved. in fact, there were periods in his discourse when he would finally give up and swallow his discomfiture--in a glass of water. as i said, my uncle, professor hardwigg, was a very learned man; and i now add a most kind relative. i was bound to him by the double ties of affection and interest. i took deep interest in all his doings, and hoped some day to be almost as learned myself. it was a rare thing for me to be absent from his lectures. like him, i preferred mineralogy to all the other sciences. my anxiety was to gain real <i>knowledge of the earth</i>. geology and mineralogy were to us the sole objects of life, and in connection with these studies many a fair specimen of stone, chalk, or metal did we break with our hammers. steel rods, loadstones, glass pipes, and bottles of various acids were oftener before us than our meals. my uncle hardwigg was once known to classify six hundred different geological specimens by their weight, hardness, fusibility, sound, taste, and smell. he corresponded with all the great, learned, and scientific men of the age. i was, therefore, in constant communication with, at all events the letters of, sir humphry davy, captain franklin, and other great men. but before i state the subject on which my uncle wished to confer with me, i must say a word about his personal appearance. alas! my readers will see a very different portrait of him at a future time, after he has gone through the fearful adventures yet to be related. my uncle was fifty years old; tall, thin, and wiry. large spectacles hid, to a certain extent, his vast, round, and goggle eyes, while his nose was irreverently compared to a thin file. so much indeed did it resemble that useful article, that a compass was said in his presence to have made considerable n (nasal) deviation. the truth being told, however, the only article really attracted to my uncle's nose was tobacco. another peculiarity of his was, that he always stepped a yard at a time, clenched his fists as if he were going to hit you, and was, when in one of his peculiar humors, very far from a pleasant companion. it is further necessary to observe that he lived in a very nice house, in that very nice street, the konigstrasse at hamburg. though lying in the centre of a town, it was perfectly rural in its aspect--half wood, half bricks, with old-fashioned gables--one of the few old houses spared by the great fire of . when i say a nice house, i mean a handsome house--old, tottering, and not exactly comfortable to english notions: a house a little off the perpendicular and inclined to fall into the neighboring canal; exactly the house for a wandering artist to depict; all the more that you could scarcely see it for ivy and a magnificent old tree which grew over the door. my uncle was rich; his house was his own property, while he had a considerable private income. to my notion the best part of his possessions was his god-daughter, gretchen. and the old cook, the young lady, the professor and i were the sole inhabitants. i loved mineralogy, i loved geology. to me there was nothing like pebbles--and if my uncle had been in a little less of a fury, we should have been the happiest of families. to prove the excellent hardwigg's impatience, i solemnly declare that when the flowers in the drawing-room pots began to grow, he rose every morning at four o'clock to make them grow quicker by pulling the leaves! having described my uncle, i will now give an account of our interview. he received me in his study; a perfect museum, containing every natural curiosity that can well be imagined--minerals, however, predominating. every one was familiar to me, having been catalogued by my own hand. my uncle, apparently oblivious of the fact that he had summoned me to his presence, was absorbed in a book. he was particularly fond of early editions, tall copies, and unique works. "wonderful!" he cried, tapping his forehead. "wonderful--wonderful!" it was one of those yellow-leaved volumes now rarely found on stalls, and to me it appeared to possess but little value. my uncle, however, was in raptures. he admired its binding, the clearness of its characters, the ease with which it opened in his hand, and repeated aloud, half a dozen times, that it was very, very old. to my fancy he was making a great fuss about nothing, but it was not my province to say so. on the contrary, i professed considerable interest in the subject, and asked him what it was about. "it is the heims-kringla of snorre tarleson," he said, "the celebrated icelandic author of the twelfth century--it is a true and correct account of the norwegian princes who reigned in iceland." my next question related to the language in which it was written. i hoped at all events it was translated into german. my uncle was indignant at the very thought, and declared he wouldn't give a penny for a translation. his delight was to have found the original work in the icelandic tongue, which he declared to be one of the most magnificent and yet simple idioms in the world--while at the same time its grammatical combinations were the most varied known to students. "about as easy as german?" was my insidious remark. my uncle shrugged his shoulders. "the letters at all events," i said, "are rather difficult of comprehension." "it is a runic manuscript, the language of the original population of iceland, invented by odin himself," cried my uncle, angry at my ignorance. i was about to venture upon some misplaced joke on the subject, when a small scrap of parchment fell out of the leaves. like a hungry man snatching at a morsel of bread the professor seized it. it was about five inches by three and was scrawled over in the most extraordinary fashion. the lines shown here are an exact facsimile of what was written on the venerable piece of parchment--and have wonderful importance, as they induced my uncle to undertake the most wonderful series of adventures which ever fell to the lot of human beings. my uncle looked keenly at the document for some moments and then declared that it was runic. the letters were similar to those in the book, but then what did they mean? this was exactly what i wanted to know. now as i had a strong conviction that the runic alphabet and dialect were simply an invention to mystify poor human nature, i was delighted to find that my uncle knew as much about the matter as i did--which was nothing. at all events the tremulous motion of his fingers made me think so. "and yet," he muttered to himself, "it is old icelandic, i am sure of it." and my uncle ought to have known, for he was a perfect polyglot dictionary in himself. he did not pretend, like a certain learned pundit, to speak the two thousand languages and four thousand idioms made use of in different parts of the globe, but he did know all the more important ones. it is a matter of great doubt to me now, to what violent measures my uncle's impetuosity might have led him, had not the clock struck two, and our old french cook called out to let us know that dinner was on the table. "bother the dinner!" cried my uncle. but as i was hungry, i sallied forth to the dining room, where i took up my usual quarters. out of politeness i waited three minutes, but no sign of my uncle, the professor. i was surprised. he was not usually so blind to the pleasure of a good dinner. it was the acme of german luxury--parsley soup, a ham omelette with sorrel trimmings, an oyster of veal stewed with prunes, delicious fruit, and sparkling moselle. for the sake of poring over this musty old piece of parchment, my uncle forbore to share our meal. to satisfy my conscience, i ate for both. the old cook and housekeeper was nearly out of her mind. after taking so much trouble, to find her master not appear at dinner was to her a sad disappointment--which, as she occasionally watched the havoc i was making on the viands, became also alarm. if my uncle were to come to table after all? suddenly, just as i had consumed the last apple and drunk the last glass of wine, a terrible voice was heard at no great distance. it was my uncle roaring for me to come to him. i made very nearly one leap of it--so loud, so fierce was his tone. chapter the mysterious parchment [illustration: runic glyphs] "i declare," cried my uncle, striking the table fiercely with his fist, "i declare to you it is runic--and contains some wonderful secret, which i must get at, at any price." i was about to reply when he stopped me. "sit down," he said, quite fiercely, "and write to my dictation." i obeyed. "i will substitute," he said, "a letter of our alphabet for that of the runic: we will then see what that will produce. now, begin and make no mistakes." the dictation commenced with the following incomprehensible result: mm.rnlls esruel seecjde sgtssmf unteief niedrke kt,samn atrates saodrrn emtnaei nuaect rrilsa atvaar .nscrc ieaabs ccdrmi eeutul frantu dt,iac oseibo kediiy scarcely giving me time to finish, my uncle snatched the document from my hands and examined it with the most rapt and deep attention. "i should like to know what it means," he said, after a long period. i certainly could not tell him, nor did he expect me to--his conversation being uniformly answered by himself. "i declare it puts me in mind of a cryptograph," he cried, "unless, indeed, the letters have been written without any real meaning; and yet why take so much trouble? who knows but i may be on the verge of some great discovery?" my candid opinion was that it was all rubbish! but this opinion i kept carefully to myself, as my uncle's choler was not pleasant to bear. all this time he was comparing the book with the parchment. "the manuscript volume and the smaller document are written in different hands," he said, "the cryptograph is of much later date than the book; there is an undoubted proof of the correctness of my surmise. [an irrefragable proof i took it to be.] the first letter is a double m, which was only added to the icelandic language in the twelfth century--this makes the parchment two hundred years posterior to the volume." the circumstances appeared very probable and very logical, but it was all surmise to me. "to me it appears probable that this sentence was written by some owner of the book. now who was the owner, is the next important question. perhaps by great good luck it may be written somewhere in the volume." with these words professor hardwigg took off his spectacles, and, taking a powerful magnifying glass, examined the book carefully. on the fly leaf was what appeared to be a blot of ink, but on examination proved to be a line of writing almost effaced by time. this was what he sought; and, after some considerable time, he made out these letters: [illustration: runic glyphs] "arne saknussemm!" he cried in a joyous and triumphant tone, "that is not only an icelandic name, but of a learned professor of the sixteenth century, a celebrated alchemist." i bowed as a sign of respect. "these alchemists," he continued, "avicenna, bacon, lully, paracelsus, were the true, the only learned men of the day. they made surprising discoveries. may not this saknussemm, nephew mine, have hidden on this bit of parchment some astounding invention? i believe the cryptograph to have a profound meaning--which i must make out." my uncle walked about the room in a state of excitement almost impossible to describe. "it may be so, sir," i timidly observed, "but why conceal it from posterity, if it be a useful, a worthy discovery?" "why--how should i know? did not galileo make a secret of his discoveries in connection with saturn? but we shall see. until i discover the meaning of this sentence i will neither eat nor sleep." "my dear uncle--" i began. "nor you neither," he added. it was lucky i had taken double allowance that day. "in the first place," he continued, "there must be a clue to the meaning. if we could find that, the rest would be easy enough." i began seriously to reflect. the prospect of going without food and sleep was not a promising one, so i determined to do my best to solve the mystery. my uncle, meanwhile, went on with his soliloquy. "the way to discover it is easy enough. in this document there are one hundred and thirty-two letters, giving seventy-nine consonants to fifty-three vowels. this is about the proportion found in most southern languages, the idioms of the north being much more rich in consonants. we may confidently predict, therefore, that we have to deal with a southern dialect." nothing could be more logical. "now," said professor hardwigg, "to trace the particular language." "as shakespeare says, 'that is the question,"' was my rather satirical reply. "this man saknussemm," he continued, "was a very learned man: now as he did not write in the language of his birthplace, he probably, like most learned men of the sixteenth century, wrote in latin. if, however, i prove wrong in this guess, we must try spanish, french, italian, greek, and even hebrew. my own opinion, though, is decidedly in favor of latin." this proposition startled me. latin was my favorite study, and it seemed sacrilege to believe this gibberish to belong to the country of virgil. "barbarous latin, in all probability," continued my uncle, "but still latin." "very probably," i replied, not to contradict him. "let us see into the matter," continued my uncle; "here you see we have a series of one hundred and thirty-two letters, apparently thrown pell-mell upon paper, without method or organization. there are words which are composed wholly of consonants, such as <i>mm.rnlls</i>, others which are nearly all vowels, the fifth, for instance, which is unteief, and one of the last oseibo. this appears an extraordinary combination. probably we shall find that the phrase is arranged according to some mathematical plan. no doubt a certain sentence has been written out and then jumbled up--some plan to which some figure is the clue. now, harry, to show your english wit--what is that figure?" i could give him no hint. my thoughts were indeed far away. while he was speaking i had caught sight of the portrait of my cousin gretchen, and was wondering when she would return. we were affianced, and loved one another very sincerely. but my uncle, who never thought even of such sublunary matters, knew nothing of this. without noticing my abstraction, the professor began reading the puzzling cryptograph all sorts of ways, according to some theory of his own. presently, rousing my wandering attention, he dictated one precious attempt to me. i mildly handed it over to him. it read as follows: <i>mmessunkasenra.icefdok.segnittamurtn ecertserrette,rotaivsadua,ednecsedsadne lacartniiilrjsiratracsarbmutabiledmek meretarcsilucoysleffensni.</i> i could scarcely keep from laughing, while my uncle, on the contrary, got in a towering passion, struck the table with his fist, darted out of the room, out of the house, and then taking to his heels was presently lost to sight. chapter an astounding discovery "what is the matter?" cried the cook, entering the room; "when will master have his dinner?" "never." "and, his supper?" "i don't know. he says he will eat no more, neither shall i. my uncle has determined to fast and make me fast until he makes out this abominable inscription," i replied. "you will be starved to death," she said. i was very much of the same opinion, but not liking to say so, sent her away, and began some of my usual work of classification. but try as i might, nothing could keep me from thinking alternately of the stupid manuscript and of the pretty gretchen. several times i thought of going out, but my uncle would have been angry at my absence. at the end of an hour, my allotted task was done. how to pass the time? i began by lighting my pipe. like all other students, i delighted in tobacco; and, seating myself in the great armchair, i began to think. where was my uncle? i could easily imagine him tearing along some solitary road, gesticulating, talking to himself, cutting the air with his cane, and still thinking of the absurd bit of hieroglyphics. would he hit upon some clue? would he come home in better humor? while these thoughts were passing through my brain, i mechanically took up the execrable puzzle and tried every imaginable way of grouping the letters. i put them together by twos, by threes, fours, and fives--in vain. nothing intelligible came out, except that the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth made <i>ice</i> in english; the eighty-fourth, eighty-fifth, and eighty-sixth, the word <i>sir</i>; then at last i seemed to find the latin words <i>rota, mutabile, ira, nec, atra</i>. "ha! there seems to be some truth in my uncle's notion," thought i. then again i seemed to find the word <i>luco</i>, which means sacred wood. then in the third line i appeared to make out <i>labiled</i>, a perfect hebrew word, and at the last the syllables mere, are, mer, which were french. it was enough to drive one mad. four different idioms in this absurd phrase. what connection could there be between ice, sir, anger, cruel, sacred wood, changing, mother, are, and sea? the first and the last might, in a sentence connected with iceland, mean sea of ice. but what of the rest of this monstrous cryptograph? i was, in fact, fighting against an insurmountable difficulty; my brain was almost on fire; my eyes were strained with staring at the parchment; the whole absurd collection of letters appeared to dance before my vision in a number of black little groups. my mind was possessed with temporary hallucination--i was stifling. i wanted air. mechanically i fanned myself with the document, of which now i saw the back and then the front. imagine my surprise when glancing at the back of the wearisome puzzle, the ink having gone through, i clearly made out latin words, and among others craterem and terrestre. i had discovered the secret! it came upon me like a flash of lightning. i had got the clue. all you had to do to understand the document was to read it backwards. all the ingenious ideas of the professor were realized; he had dictated it rightly to me; by a mere accident i had discovered what he so much desired. my delight, my emotion may be imagined, my eyes were dazzled and i trembled so that at first i could make nothing of it. one look, however, would tell me all i wished to know. "let me read," i said to myself, after drawing a long breath. i spread it before me on the table, i passed my finger over each letter, i spelled it through; in my excitement i read it out. what horror and stupefaction took possession of my soul. i was like a man who had received a knock-down blow. was it possible that i really read the terrible secret, and it had really been accomplished! a man had dared to do--what? no living being should ever know. "never!" cried i, jumping up. "never shall my uncle be made aware of the dread secret. he would be quite capable of undertaking the terrible journey. nothing would check him, nothing stop him. worse, he would compel me to accompany him, and we should be lost forever. but no; such folly and madness cannot be allowed." i was almost beside myself with rage and fury. "my worthy uncle is already nearly mad," i cried aloud. "this would finish him. by some accident he may make the discovery; in which case, we are both lost. perish the fearful secret--let the flames forever bury it in oblivion." i snatched up book and parchment, and was about to cast them into the fire, when the door opened and my uncle entered. i had scarcely time to put down the wretched documents before my uncle was by my side. he was profoundly absorbed. his thoughts were evidently bent on the terrible parchment. some new combination had probably struck him while taking his walk. he seated himself in his armchair, and with a pen began to make an algebraical calculation. i watched him with anxious eyes. my flesh crawled as it became probable that he would discover the secret. his combinations i knew now were useless, i having discovered the one only clue. for three mortal hours he continued without speaking a word, without raising his head, scratching, rewriting, calculating over and over again. i knew that in time he must hit upon the right phrase. the letters of every alphabet have only a certain number of combinations. but then years might elapse before he would arrive at the correct solution. still time went on; night came, the sounds in the streets ceased--and still my uncle went on, not even answering our worthy cook when she called us to supper. i did not dare to leave him, so waved her away, and at last fell asleep on the sofa. when i awoke my uncle was still at work. his red eyes, his pallid countenance, his matted hair, his feverish hands, his hectically flushed cheeks, showed how terrible had been his struggle with the impossible, and what fearful fatigue he had undergone during that long sleepless night. it made me quite ill to look at him. though he was rather severe with me, i loved him, and my heart ached at his sufferings. he was so overcome by one idea that he could not even get in a passion! all his energies were focused on one point. and i knew that by speaking one little word all this suffering would cease. i could not speak it. my heart was, nevertheless, inclining towards him. why, then, did i remain silent? in the interest of my uncle himself. "nothing shall make me speak," i muttered. "he will want to follow in the footsteps of the other! i know him well. his imagination is a perfect volcano, and to make discoveries in the interests of geology he would sacrifice his life. i will therefore be silent and strictly keep the secret i have discovered. to reveal it would be suicidal. he would not only rush, himself, to destruction, but drag me with him." i crossed my arms, looked another way and smoked--resolved never to speak. when our cook wanted to go out to market, or on any other errand, she found the front door locked and the key taken away. was this done purposely or not? surely professor hardwigg did not intend the old woman and myself to become martyrs to his obstinate will. were we to be starved to death? a frightful recollection came to my mind. once we had fed on bits and scraps for a week while he sorted some curiosities. it gave me the cramp even to think of it! i wanted my breakfast, and i saw no way of getting it. still my resolution held good. i would starve rather than yield. but the cook began to take me seriously to task. what was to be done? she could not go out; and i dared not. my uncle continued counting and writing; his imagination seemed to have translated him to the skies. he neither thought of eating nor drinking. in this way twelve o'clock came round. i was hungry, and there was nothing in the house. the cook had eaten the last bit of bread. this could not go on. it did, however, until two, when my sensations were terrible. after all, i began to think the document very absurd. perhaps it might only be a gigantic hoax. besides, some means would surely be found to keep my uncle back from attempting any such absurd expedition. on the other hand, if he did attempt anything so quixotic, i should not be compelled to accompany him. another line of reasoning partially decided me. very likely he would make the discovery himself when i should have suffered starvation for nothing. under the influence of hunger this reasoning appeared admirable. i determined to tell all. the question now arose as to how it was to be done. i was still dwelling on the thought, when he rose and put on his hat. what! go out and lock us in? never! "uncle," i began. he did not appear even to hear me. "professor hardwigg," i cried. "what," he retorted, "did you speak?" "how about the key?" "what key--the key of the door?" "no--of these horrible hieroglyphics?" he looked at me from under his spectacles, and started at the odd expression of my face. rushing forward, he clutched me by the arm and keenly examined my countenance. his very look was an interrogation. i simply nodded. with an incredulous shrug of the shoulders, he turned upon his heel. undoubtedly he thought i had gone mad. "i have made a very important discovery." his eyes flashed with excitement. his hand was lifted in a menacing attitude. for a moment neither of us spoke. it is hard to say which was most excited. "you don't mean to say that you have any idea of the meaning of the scrawl?" "i do," was my desperate reply. "look at the sentence as dictated by you." "well, but it means nothing," was the angry answer. "nothing if you read from left to right, but mark, if from right to left--" "backwards!" cried my uncle, in wild amazement. "oh most cunning saknussemm; and i to be such a blockhead!" he snatched up the document, gazed at it with haggard eye, and read it out as i had done. it read as follows: <i>in sneffels yoculis craterem kem delibat umbra scartaris julii intra calendas descende, audas viator, et terrestre centrum attinges. kod feci. arne saknussemm</i> which dog latin being translated, reads as follows: descend into the crater of yocul of sneffels, which the shade of scartaris caresses, before the kalends of july, audacious traveler, and you will reach the centre of the earth. i did it. arne saknussemm my uncle leaped three feet from the ground with joy. he looked radiant and handsome. he rushed about the room wild with delight and satisfaction. he knocked over tables and chairs. he threw his books about until at last, utterly exhausted, he fell into his armchair. "what's o'clock?" he asked. "about three." "my dinner does not seem to have done me much good," he observed. "let me have something to eat. we can then start at once. get my portmanteau ready." "what for?" "and your own," he continued. "we start at once." my horror may be conceived. i resolved however to show no fear. scientific reasons were the only ones likely to influence my uncle. now, there were many against this terrible journey. the very idea of going down to the centre of the earth was simply absurd. i determined therefore to argue the point after dinner. my uncle's rage was now directed against the cook for having no dinner ready. my explanation however satisfied him, and having gotten the key, she soon contrived to get sufficient to satisfy our voracious appetites. during the repast my uncle was rather gay than otherwise. he made some of those peculiar jokes which belong exclusively to the learned. as soon, however, as dessert was over, he called me to his study. we each took a chair on opposite sides of the table. "henry," he said, in a soft and winning voice; "i have always believed you ingenious, and you have rendered me a service never to be forgotten. without you, this great, this wondrous discovery would never have been made. it is my duty, therefore, to insist on your sharing the glory." "he is in a good humor," thought i; "i'll soon let him know my opinion of glory." "in the first place," he continued, "you must keep the whole affair a profound secret. there is no more envious race of men than scientific discoverers. many would start on the same journey. at all events, we will be the first in the field." "i doubt your having many competitors," was my reply. "a man of real scientific acquirements would be delighted at the chance. we should find a perfect stream of pilgrims on the traces of arne saknussemm, if this document were once made public." "but, my dear sir, is not this paper very likely to be a hoax?" i urged. "the book in which we find it is sufficient proof of its authenticity," he replied. "i thoroughly allow that the celebrated professor wrote the lines, but only, i believe, as a kind of mystification," was my answer. scarcely were the words out of my mouth, when i was sorry i had uttered them. my uncle looked at me with a dark and gloomy scowl, and i began to be alarmed for the results of our conversation. his mood soon changed, however, and a smile took the place of a frown. "we shall see," he remarked, with decisive emphasis. "but see, what is all this about yocul, and sneffels, and this scartaris? i have never heard anything about them." "the very point to which i am coming. i lately received from my friend augustus peterman, of leipzig, a map. take down the third atlas from the second shelf, series z, plate ." i rose, went to the shelf, and presently returned with the volume indicated. "this," said my uncle, "is one of the best maps of iceland. i believe it will settle all your doubts, difficulties and objections." with a grim hope to the contrary, i stooped over the map. chapter we start on the journey "you see, the whole island is composed of volcanoes," said the professor, "and remark carefully that they all bear the name of yocul. the word is icelandic, and means a glacier. in most of the lofty mountains of that region the volcanic eruptions come forth from icebound caverns. hence the name applied to every volcano on this extraordinary island." "but what does this word sneffels mean?" to this question i expected no rational answer. i was mistaken. "follow my finger to the western coast of iceland, there you see reykjavik, its capital. follow the direction of one of its innumerable fjords or arms of the sea, and what do you see below the sixty-fifth degree of latitude?" "a peninsula--very like a thighbone in shape." "and in the centre of it--?" "a mountain." "well, that's sneffels." i had nothing to say. "that is sneffels--a mountain about five thousand feet in height, one of the most remarkable in the whole island, and certainly doomed to be the most celebrated in the world, for through its crater we shall reach the centre of the earth." "impossible!" cried i, startled and shocked at the thought. "why impossible?" said professor hardwigg in his severest tones. "because its crater is choked with lava, by burning rocks--by infinite dangers." "but if it be extinct?" "that would make a difference." "of course it would. there are about three hundred volcanoes on the whole surface of the globe--but the greater number are extinct. of these sneffels is one. no eruption has occurred since --in fact it has ceased to be a volcano at all." after this what more could i say? yes,--i thought of another objection. "but what is all this about scartaris and the kalends of july--?" my uncle reflected deeply. presently he gave forth the result of his reflections in a sententious tone. "what appears obscure to you, to me is light. this very phrase shows how particular saknussemm is in his directions. the sneffels mountain has many craters. he is careful therefore to point the exact one which is the highway into the interior of the earth. he lets us know, for this purpose, that about the end of the month of june, the shadow of mount scartaris falls upon the one crater. there can be no doubt about the matter." my uncle had an answer for everything. "i accept all your explanations" i said, "and saknussemm is right. he found out the entrance to the bowels of the earth, he has indicated correctly, but that he or anyone else ever followed up the discovery is madness to suppose." "why so, young man?" "all scientific teaching, theoretical and practical, shows it to be impossible." "i care nothing for theories," retorted my uncle. "but is it not well-known that heat increases one degree for every seventy feet you descend into the earth? which gives a fine idea of the central heat. all the matters which compose the globe are in a state of incandescence; even gold, platinum, and the hardest rocks are in a state of fusion. what would become of us?" "don't be alarmed at the heat, my boy." "how so?" "neither you nor anybody else know anything about the real state of the earth's interior. all modern experiments tend to explode the older theories. were any such heat to exist, the upper crust of the earth would be shattered to atoms, and the world would be at an end." a long, learned and not uninteresting discussion followed, which ended in this wise: "i do not believe in the dangers and difficulties which you, henry, seem to multiply; and the only way to learn, is like arne saknussemm, to go and see." "well," cried i, overcome at last, "let us go and see. though how we can do that in the dark is another mystery." "fear nothing. we shall overcome these, and many other difficulties. besides, as we approach the centre, i expect to find it luminous--" "nothing is impossible." "and now that we have come to a thorough understanding, not a word to any living soul. our success depends on secrecy and dispatch." thus ended our memorable conference, which roused a perfect fever in me. leaving my uncle, i went forth like one possessed. reaching the banks of the elbe, i began to think. was all i had heard really and truly possible? was my uncle in his sober senses, and could the interior of the earth be reached? was i the victim of a madman, or was he a discoverer of rare courage and grandeur of conception? to a certain extent i was anxious to be off. i was afraid my enthusiasm would cool. i determined to pack up at once. at the end of an hour, however, on my way home, i found that my feelings had very much changed. "i'm all abroad," i cried; "'tis a nightmare--i must have dreamed it." at this moment i came face to face with gretchen, whom i warmly embraced. "so you have come to meet me," she said; "how good of you. but what is the matter?" well, it was no use mincing the matter, i told her all. she listened with awe, and for some minutes she could not speak. "well?" i at last said, rather anxiously. "what a magnificent journey. if i were only a man! a journey worthy of the nephew of professor hardwigg. i should look upon it as an honor to accompany him." "my dear gretchen, i thought you would be the first to cry out against this mad enterprise." "no; on the contrary, i glory in it. it is magnificent, splendid--an idea worthy of my father. henry lawson, i envy you." this was, as it were, conclusive. the final blow of all. when we entered the house we found my uncle surrounded by workmen and porters, who were packing up. he was pulling and hauling at a bell. "where have you been wasting your time? your portmanteau is not packed--my papers are not in order--the precious tailor has not brought my clothes, nor my gaiters--the key of my carpet bag is gone!" i looked at him stupefied. and still he tugged away at the bell. "we are really off, then?" i said. "yes--of course, and yet you go out for a stroll, unfortunate boy!" "and when do we go?" "the day after tomorrow, at daybreak." i heard no more; but darted off to my little bedchamber and locked myself in. there was no doubt about it now. my uncle had been hard at work all the afternoon. the garden was full of ropes, rope ladders, torches, gourds, iron clamps, crowbars, alpenstocks, and pickaxes--enough to load ten men. i passed a terrible night. i was called early the next day to learn that the resolution of my uncle was unchanged and irrevocable. i also found my cousin and affianced wife as warm on the subject as was her father. next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the post chaise was at the door. gretchen and the old cook received the keys of the house; and, scarcely pausing to wish anyone good-by, we started on our adventurous journey into the centre of the earth. chapter first lessons in climbing at altona, a suburb of hamburg, is the chief station of the kiel railway, which was to take us to the shores of the belt. in twenty minutes from the moment of our departure we were in holstein, and our carriage entered the station. our heavy luggage was taken out, weighed, labeled, and placed in a huge van. we then took our tickets, and exactly at seven o'clock were seated opposite each other in a firstclass railway carriage. my uncle said nothing. he was too busy examining his papers, among which of course was the famous parchment, and some letters of introduction from the danish consul which were to pave the way to an introduction to the governor of iceland. my only amusement was looking out of the window. but as we passed through a flat though fertile country, this occupation was slightly monotonous. in three hours we reached kiel, and our baggage was at once transferred to the steamer. we had now a day before us, a delay of about ten hours. which fact put my uncle in a towering passion. we had nothing to do but to walk about the pretty town and bay. at length, however, we went on board, and at half past ten were steaming down the great belt. it was a dark night, with a strong breeze and a rough sea, nothing being visible but the occasional fires on shore, with here and there a lighthouse. at seven in the morning we left korsor, a little town on the western side of seeland. here we took another railway, which in three hours brought us to the capital, copenhagen, where, scarcely taking time for refreshment, my uncle hurried out to present one of his letters of introduction. it was to the director of the museum of antiquities, who, having been informed that we were tourists bound for iceland, did all he could to assist us. one wretched hope sustained me now. perhaps no vessel was bound for such distant parts. alas! a little danish schooner, the <i>valkyrie</i>, was to sail on the second of june for reykjavik. the captain, m. bjarne, was on board, and was rather surprised at the energy and cordiality with which his future passenger shook him by the hand. to him a voyage to iceland was merely a matter of course. my uncle, on the other hand, considered the event of sublime importance. the honest sailor took advantage of the professor's enthusiasm to double the fare. "on tuesday morning at seven o'clock be on board," said m. bjarne, handing us our receipts. "excellent! capital! glorious!" remarked my uncle as we sat down to a late breakfast; "refresh yourself, my boy, and we will take a run through the town." our meal concluded, we went to the kongens-nye-torw; to the king's magnificent palace; to the beautiful bridge over the canal near the museum; to the immense cenotaph of thorwaldsen with its hideous naval groups; to the castle of rosenberg; and to all the other lions of the place-none of which my uncle even saw, so absorbed was he in his anticipated triumphs. but one thing struck his fancy, and that was a certain singular steeple situated on the island of amak, which is the southeast quarter of the city of copenhagen. my uncle at once ordered me to turn my steps that way, and accordingly we went on board the steam ferry boat which does duty on the canal, and very soon reached the noted dockyard quay. in the first instance we crossed some narrow streets, where we met numerous groups of galley slaves, with particolored trousers, grey and yellow, working under the orders and the sticks of severe taskmasters, and finally reached the vor-frelser's-kirk. this church exhibited nothing remarkable in itself; in fact, the worthy professor had only been attracted to it by one circumstance, which was, that its rather elevated steeple started from a circular platform, after which there was an exterior staircase, which wound round to the very summit. "let us ascend," said my uncle. "but i never could climb church towers," i cried, "i am subject to dizziness in my head." "the very reason why you should go up. i want to cure you of a bad habit." "but, my good sir--" "i tell you to come. what is the use of wasting so much valuable time?" it was impossible to dispute the dictatorial commands of my uncle. i yielded with a groan. on payment of a fee, a verger gave us the key. he, for one, was not partial to the ascent. my uncle at once showed me the way, running up the steps like a schoolboy. i followed as well as i could, though no sooner was i outside the tower, than my head began to swim. there was nothing of the eagle about me. the earth was enough for me, and no ambitious desire to soar ever entered my mind. still things did not go badly until i had ascended steps, and was near the platform, when i began to feel the rush of cold air. i could scarcely stand, when clutching the railings, i looked upwards. the railing was frail enough, but nothing to those which skirted the terrible winding staircase, that appeared, from where i stood, to ascend to the skies. "now then, henry." "i can't do it!" i cried, in accents of despair. "are you, after all, a coward, sir?" said my uncle in a pitiless tone. "go up, i say!" to this there was no reply possible. and yet the keen air acted violently on my nervous system; sky, earth, all seemed to swim round, while the steeple rocked like a ship. my legs gave way like those of a drunken man. i crawled upon my hands and knees; i hauled myself up slowly, crawling like a snake. presently i closed my eyes, and allowed myself to be dragged upwards. "look around you," said my uncle in a stern voice, "heaven knows what profound abysses you may have to look down. this is excellent practice." slowly, and shivering all the while with cold, i opened my eyes. what then did i see? my first glance was upwards at the cold fleecy clouds, which as by some optical delusion appeared to stand still, while the steeple, the weathercock, and our two selves were carried swiftly along. far away on one side could be seen the grassy plain, while on the other lay the sea bathed in translucent light. the sund, or sound as we call it, could be discovered beyond the point of elsinore, crowded with white sails, which, at that distance looked like the wings of seagulls; while to the east could be made out the far-off coast of sweden. the whole appeared a magic panorama. but faint and bewildered as i was, there was no remedy for it. rise and stand up i must. despite my protestations my first lesson lasted quite an hour. when, nearly two hours later, i reached the bosom of mother earth, i was like a rheumatic old man bent double with pain. "enough for one day," said my uncle, rubbing his hands, "we will begin again tomorrow." there was no remedy. my lessons lasted five days, and at the end of that period, i ascended blithely enough, and found myself able to look down into the depths below without even winking, and with some degree of pleasure. chapter our voyage to iceland the hour of departure came at last. the night before, the worthy mr. thompson brought us the most cordial letters of introduction for baron trampe, governor of iceland, for m. pictursson, coadjutor to the bishop, and for m. finsen, mayor of the town of reykjavik. in return, my uncle nearly crushed his hands, so warmly did he shake them. on the second of the month, at two in the morning, our precious cargo of luggage was taken on board the good ship <i>valkyrie</i>. we followed, and were very politely introduced by the captain to a small cabin with two standing bed places, neither very well ventilated nor very comfortable. but in the cause of science men are expected to suffer. "well, and have we a fair wind?" cried my uncle, in his most mellifluous accents. "an excellent wind!" replied captain bjarne; "we shall leave the sound, going free with all sails set." a few minutes afterwards, the schooner started before the wind, under all the canvas she could carry, and entered the channel. an hour later, the capital of denmark seemed to sink into the waves, and we were at no great distance from the coast of elsinore. my uncle was delighted; for myself, moody and dissatisfied, i appeared almost to expect a glimpse of the ghost of hamlet. "sublime madman," thought i, "you doubtless would approve our proceedings. you might perhaps even follow us to the centre of the earth, there to resolve your eternal doubts." but no ghost or anything else appeared upon the ancient walls. the fact is, the castle is much later than the time of the heroic prince of denmark. it is now the residence of the keeper of the strait of the sound, and through that sound more than fifteen thousand vessels of all nations pass every year. the castle of kronborg soon disappeared in the murky atmosphere, as well as the tower of helsinborg, which raises its head on the swedish bank. and here the schooner began to feel in earnest the breezes of the kattegat. the <i>valkyrie</i> was swift enough, but with all sailing boats there is the same uncertainty. her cargo was coal, furniture, pottery, woolen clothing, and a load of corn. as usual, the crew was small, five danes doing the whole of the work. "how long will the voyage last?" asked my uncle. "well, i should think about ten days," replied the skipper, "unless, indeed, we meet with some northeast gales among the faroe islands." "at all events, there will be no very considerable delay," cried the impatient professor. "no, mr. hardwigg," said the captain, "no fear of that. at all events, we shall get there some day." towards evening the schooner doubled cape skagen, the northernmost part of denmark, crossed the skagerrak during the night--skirted the extreme point of norway through the gut of cape lindesnes, and then reached the northern seas. two days later we were not far from the coast of scotland, somewhere near what danish sailors call peterhead, and then the <i>valkyrie</i> stretched out direct for the faroe islands, between orkney and shetland. our vessel now felt the full force of the ocean waves, and the wind shifting, we with great difficulty made the faroe isles. on the eighth day, the captain made out myganness, the westernmost of the isles, and from that moment headed direct for portland, a cape on the southern shores of the singular island for which we were bound. the voyage offered no incident worthy of record. i bore it very well, but my uncle to his great annoyance, and even shame, was remarkably seasick! this mal de mer troubled him the more that it prevented him from questioning captain bjarne as to the subject of sneffels, as to the means of communication, and the facilities of transport. all these explanations he had to adjourn to the period of his arrival. his time, meanwhile, was spent lying in bed groaning, and dwelling anxiously on the hoped--for termination of the voyage. i didn't pity him. on the eleventh day we sighted cape portland, over which towered mount myrdals yokul, which, the weather being clear, we made out very readily. the cape itself is nothing but a huge mount of granite standing naked and alone to meet the atlantic waves. the <i>valkyrie</i> kept off the coast, steering to the westward. on all sides were to be seen whole "schools" of whales and sharks. after some hours we came in sight of a solitary rock in the ocean, forming a mighty vault, through which the foaming waves poured with intense fury. the islets of westman appeared to leap from the ocean, being so low in the water as scarcely to be seen until you were right upon them. from that moment the schooner was steered to the westward in order to round cape reykjanes, the western point of iceland. my uncle, to his great disgust, was unable even to crawl on deck, so heavy a sea was on, and thus lost the first view of the land of promise. forty-eight hours later, after a storm which drove us far to sea under bare poles, we came once more in sight of land, and were boarded by a pilot, who, after three hours of dangerous navigation, brought the schooner safely to an anchor in the bay of faxa before reykjavik. my uncle came out of his cabin pale, haggard, thin, but full of enthusiasm, his eyes dilated with pleasure and satisfaction. nearly the whole population of the town was on foot to see us land. the fact was, that scarcely any one of them but expected some goods by the periodical vessel. professor hardwigg was in haste to leave his prison, or rather as he called it, his hospital; but before he attempted to do so, he caught hold of my hand, led me to the quarterdeck of the schooner, took my arm with his left hand, and pointed inland with his right, over the northern part of the bay, to where rose a high two-peaked mountain--a double cone covered with eternal snow. "behold he whispered in an awe-stricken voice, behold--mount sneffels!" then without further remark, he put his finger to his lips, frowned darkly, and descended into the small boat which awaited us. i followed, and in a few minutes we stood upon the soil of mysterious iceland! scarcely were we fairly on shore when there appeared before us a man of excellent appearance, wearing the costume of a military officer. he was, however, but a civil servant, a magistrate, the governor of the island--baron trampe. the professor knew whom he had to deal with. he therefore handed him the letters from copenhagen, and a brief conversation in danish followed, to which i of course was a stranger, and for a very good reason, for i did not know the language in which they conversed. i afterwards heard, however, that baron trampe placed himself entirely at the beck and call of professor hardwigg. my uncle was most graciously received by m. finsen, the mayor, who as far as costume went, was quite as military as the governor, but also from character and occupation quite as pacific. as for his coadjutor, m. pictursson, he was absent on an episcopal visit to the northern portion of the diocese. we were therefore compelled to defer the pleasure of being presented to him. his absence was, however, more than compensated by the presence of m. fridriksson, professor of natural science in the college of reykjavik, a man of invaluable ability. this modest scholar spoke no languages save icelandic and latin. when, therefore, he addressed himself to me in the language of horace, we at once came to understand one another. he was, in fact, the only person that i did thoroughly understand during the whole period of my residence in this benighted island. out of three rooms of which his house was composed, two were placed at our service, and in a few hours we were installed with all our baggage, the amount of which rather astonished the simple inhabitants of reykjavik. "now, harry," said my uncle, rubbing his hands, "an goes well, the worse difficulty is now over." "how the worse difficulty over?" i cried in fresh amazement. "doubtless. here we are in iceland. nothing more remains but to descend into the bowels of the earth." "well, sir, to a certain extent you are right. we have only to go down--but, as far as i am concerned, that is not the question. i want to know how we are to get up again." "that is the least part of the business, and does not in any way trouble me. in the meantime, there is not an hour to lose. i am about to visit the public library. very likely i may find there some manuscripts from the hand of saknussemm. i shall be glad to consult them." "in the meanwhile," i replied, "i will take a walk through the town. will you not likewise do so?" "i feel no interest in the subject," said my uncle. "what for me is curious in this island, is not what is above the surface, but what is below." i bowed by way of reply, put on my hat and furred cloak, and went out. it was not an easy matter to lose oneself in the two streets of reykjavik; i had therefore no need to ask my way. the town lies on a flat and marshy plain, between two hills. a vast field of lava skirts it on one side, falling away in terraces towards the sea. on the other hand is the large bay of faxa, bordered on the north by the enormous glacier of sneffels, and in which bay the <i>valkyrie</i> was then the only vessel at anchor. generally there were one or two english or french gunboats, to watch and protect the fisheries in the offing. they were now, however, absent on duty. the longest of the streets of reykjavik runs parallel to the shore. in this street the merchants and traders live in wooden huts made with beams of wood, painted red--mere log huts, such as you find in the wilds of america. the other street, situated more to the west, runs toward a little lake between the residences of the bishop and the other personages not engaged in commerce. i had soon seen all i wanted of these weary and dismal thoroughfares. here and there was a strip of discolored turf, like an old worn-out bit of woolen carpet; and now and then a bit of kitchen garden, in which grew potatoes, cabbage, and lettuce, almost diminutive enough to suggest the idea of lilliput. in the centre of the new commercial street, i found the public cemetery, enclosed by an earthen wall. though not very large, it appeared not likely to be filled for centuries. from hence i went to the house of the governor--a mere hut in comparison with the mansion house of hamburg--but a palace alongside the other icelandic houses. between the little lake and the town was the church, built in simple protestant style, and composed of calcined stones, thrown up by volcanic action. i have not the slightest doubt that in high winds its red tiles were blown out, to the great annoyance of the pastor and congregation. upon an eminence close at hand was the national school, in which were taught hebrew, english, french, and danish. in three hours my tour was complete. the general impression upon my mind was sadness. no trees, no vegetation, so to speak--on all sides volcanic peaks--the huts of turf and earth--more like roofs than houses. thanks to the heat of these residences, grass grows on the roof, which grass is carefully cut for hay. i saw but few inhabitants during my excursion, but i met a crowd on the beach, drying, salting and loading codfish, the principal article of exportation. the men appeared robust but heavy; fair-haired like germans, but of pensive mien--exiles of a higher scale in the ladder of humanity than the eskimos, but, i thought, much more unhappy, since with superior perceptions they are compelled to live within the limits of the polar circle. sometimes they gave vent to a convulsive laugh, but by no chance did they smile. their costume consists of a coarse capote of black wool, known in scandinavian countries as the "vadmel," a broad-brimmed hat, trousers of red serge, and a piece of leather tied with strings for a shoe--a coarse kind of moccasin. the women, though sad-looking and mournful, had rather agreeable features, without much expression. they wear a bodice and petticoat of somber vadmel. when unmarried they wear a little brown knitted cap over a crown of plaited hair; but when married, they cover their heads with a colored handkerchief, over which they tie a white scarf. chapter conversation and discovery when i returned, dinner was ready. this meal was devoured by my worthy relative with avidity and voracity. his shipboard diet had turned his interior into a perfect gulf. the repast, which was more danish than icelandic, was in itself nothing, but the excessive hospitality of our host made us enjoy it doubly. the conversation turned upon scientific matters, and m. fridriksson asked my uncle what he thought of the public library. "library, sir?" cried my uncle; "it appears to me a collection of useless odd volumes, and a beggarly amount of empty shelves." "what!" cried m. fridriksson; "why, we have eight thousand volumes of most rare and valuable works--some in the scandinavian language, besides all the new publications from copenhagen." "eight thousand volumes, my dear sir--why, where are they?" cried my uncle. "scattered over the country, professor hardwigg. we are very studious, my dear sir, though we do live in iceland. every farmer, every laborer, every fisherman can both read and write--and we think that books instead of being locked up in cupboards, far from the sight of students, should be distributed as widely as possible. the books of our library are therefore passed from hand to hand without returning to the library shelves perhaps for years." "then when foreigners visit you, there is nothing for them to see?" "well, sir, foreigners have their own libraries, and our first consideration is, that our humbler classes should be highly educated. fortunately, the love of study is innate in the icelandic people. in we founded a literary society and mechanics' institute; many foreign scholars of eminence are honorary members; we publish books destined to educate our people, and these books have rendered valuable services to our country. allow me to have the honor, professor hardwigg, to enroll you as an honorary member?" my uncle, who already belonged to nearly every literary and scientific institution in europe, immediately yielded to the amiable wishes of good m. fridriksson. "and now," he said, after many expressions of gratitude and good will, "if you will tell me what books you expected to find, perhaps i may be of some assistance to you." i watched my uncle keenly. for a minute or two he hesitated, as if unwilling to speak; to speak openly was, perhaps, to unveil his projects. nevertheless, after some reflection, he made up his mind. "well, m. fridriksson," he said in an easy, unconcerned kind of way, "i was desirous of ascertaining, if among other valuable works, you had any of the learned arne saknussemm." "arne saknussemm!" cried the professor of reykjavik; "you speak of one of the most distinguished scholars of the sixteenth century, of the great naturalist, the great alchemist, the great traveler." "exactly so." "one of the most distinguished men connected with icelandic science and literature." "as you say, sir--" "a man illustrious above all." "yes, sir, all this is true, but his works?" "we have none of them." "not in iceland?" "there are none in iceland or elsewhere," answered the other, sadly. "why so?" "because arne saknussemm was persecuted for heresy, and in his works were publicly burnt at copenhagen, by the hands of the common hangman." "very good! capital!" murmured my uncle, to the great astonishment of the worthy icelander. "you said, sir--" "yes, yes, all is clear, i see the link in the chain; everything is explained, and i now understand why arne saknussemm, put out of court, forced to hide his magnificent discoveries, was compelled to conceal beneath the veil of an incomprehensible cryptograph, the secret--" "what secret?" "a secret--which," stammered my uncle. "have you discovered some wonderful manuscript?" cried m. fridriksson. "no! no, i was carried away by my enthusiasm. a mere supposition." "very good, sir. but, really, to turn to another subject, i hope you will not leave our island without examining into its mineralogical riches." "well, the fact is, i am rather late. so many learned men have been here before me." "yes, yes, but there is still much to be done," cried m. fridriksson. "you think so," said my uncle, his eyes twinkling with hidden satisfaction. "yes, you have no idea how many unknown mountains, glaciers, volcanoes there are which remain to be studied. without moving from where we sit, i can show you one. yonder on the edge of the horizon, you see sneffels." "oh yes, sneffels," said my uncle. "one of the most curious volcanoes in existence, the crater of which has been rarely visited." "extinct?" "extinct, any time these five hundred years," was the ready reply. "well," said my uncle, who dug his nails into his flesh, and pressed his knees tightly together to prevent himself leaping up with joy. "i have a great mind to begin my studies with an examination of the geological mysteries of this mount seffel--feisel--what do you call it?" "sneffels, my dear sir." this portion of the conversation took place in latin, and i therefore understood all that had been said. i could scarcely keep my countenance when i found my uncle so cunningly concealing his delight and satisfaction. i must confess that his artful grimaces, put on to conceal his happiness, made him look like a new mephistopheles. "yes, yes," he continued, "your proposition delights me. i will endeavor to climb to the summit of sneffels, and, if possible, will descend into its crater." "i very much regret," continued m. fridriksson, "that my occupation will entirely preclude the possibility of my accompanying you. it would have been both pleasurable and profitable if i could have spared the time." "no, no, a thousand times no," cried my uncle. "i do not wish to disturb the serenity of any man. i thank you, however, with all my heart. the presence of one so learned as yourself, would no doubt have been most useful, but the duties of your office and profession before everything." in the innocence of his simple heart, our host did not perceive the irony of these remarks. "i entirely approve your project," continued the icelander after some further remarks. "it is a good idea to begin by examining this volcano. you will make a harvest of curious observations. in the first place, how do you propose to get to sneffels?" "by sea. i shall cross the bay. of course that is the most rapid route." "of course. but still it cannot be done." "why?" "we have not an available boat in all reykjavik," replied the other. "what is to be done?" "you must go by land along the coast. it is longer, but much more interesting." "then i must have a guide." "of course; and i have your very man." "somebody on whom i can depend." "yes, an inhabitant of the peninsula on which sneffels is situated. he is a very shrewd and worthy man, with whom you will be pleased. he speaks danish like a dane." "when can i see him--today?" "no, tomorrow; he will not be here before." "tomorrow be it," replied my uncle, with a deep sigh. the conversation ended by compliments on both sides. during the dinner my uncle had learned much as to the history of arne saknussemm, the reasons for his mysterious and hieroglyphical document. he also became aware that his host would not accompany him on his adventurous expedition, and that next day we should have a guide. chapter the eider-down hunter--off at last that evening i took a brief walk on the shore near reykjavik, after which i returned to an early sleep on my bed of coarse planks, where i slept the sleep of the just. when i awoke i heard my uncle speaking loudly in the next room. i rose hastily and joined him. he was talking in danish with a man of tall stature, and of perfectly herculean build. this man appeared to be possessed of very great strength. his eyes, which started rather prominently from a very large head, the face belonging to which was simple and naive, appeared very quick and intelligent. very long hair, which even in england would have been accounted exceedingly red, fell over his athletic shoulders. this native of iceland was active and supple in appearance, though he scarcely moved his arms, being in fact one of those men who despise the habit of gesticulation common to southern people. everything in this man's manner revealed a calm and phlegmatic temperament. there was nothing indolent about him, but his appearance spoke of tranquillity. he was one of those who never seemed to expect anything from anybody, who liked to work when he thought proper, and whose philosophy nothing could astonish or trouble. i began to comprehend his character, simply from the way in which he listened to the wild and impassioned verbiage of my worthy uncle. while the excellent professor spoke sentence after sentence, he stood with folded arms, utterly still, motionless to all my uncle's gesticulations. when he wanted to say no he moved his head from left to right; when he acquiesced he nodded, so slightly that you could scarcely see the undulation of his head. this economy of motion was carried to the length of avarice. judging from his appearance i should have been a long time before i had suspected him to be what he was, a mighty hunter. certainly his manner was not likely to frighten the game. how, then, did he contrive to get at his prey? my surprise was slightly modified when i knew that this tranquil and solemn personage was only a hunter of the eider duck, the down of which is, after all, the greatest source of the icelanders' wealth. in the early days of summer, the female of the eider, a pretty sort of duck, builds its nest amid the rocks of the fjords--the name given to all narrow gulfs in scandinavian countries--with which every part of the island is indented. no sooner has the eider duck made her nest than she lines the inside of it with the softest down from her breast. then comes the hunter or trader, taking away the nest, the poor bereaved female begins her task over again, and this continues as long as any eider down is to be found. when she can find no more the male bird sets to work to see what he can do. as, however, his down is not so soft, and has therefore no commercial value, the hunter does not take the trouble to rob him of his nest lining. the nest is accordingly finished, the eggs are laid, the little ones are born, and next year the harvest of eider down is again collected. now, as the eider duck never selects steep rocks or aspects to build its nest, but rather sloping and low cliffs near to the sea, the icelandic hunter can carry on his trade operations without much difficulty. he is like a farmer who has neither to plow, to sow, nor to harrow, only to collect his harvest. this grave, sententious, silent person, as phlegmatic as an englishman on the french stage, was named hans bjelke. he had called upon us in consequence of the recommendation of m. fridriksson. he was, in fact, our future guide. it struck me that had i sought the world over, i could not have found a greater contradiction to my impulsive uncle. they, however, readily understood one another. neither of them had any thought about money; one was ready to take all that was offered him, the other ready to offer anything that was asked. it may readily be conceived, then, that an understanding was soon come to between them. now, the understanding was, that he was to take us to the village of stapi, situated on the southern slope of the peninsula of sneffels, at the very foot of the volcano. hans, the guide, told us the distance was about twenty-two miles, a journey which my uncle supposed would take about two days. but when my uncle came to understand that they were danish miles, of eight thousand yards each, he was obliged to be more moderate in his ideas, and, considering the horrible roads we had to follow, to allow eight or ten days for the journey. four horses were prepared for us, two to carry the baggage, and two to bear the important weight of myself and uncle. hans declared that nothing ever would make him climb on the back of any animal. he knew every inch of that part of the coast, and promised to take us the very shortest way. his engagement with my uncle was by no means to cease with our arrival at stapi; he was further to remain in his service during the whole time required for the completion of his scientific investigations, at the fixed salary of three rix-dollars a week, being exactly fourteen shillings and twopence, minus one farthing, english currency. one stipulation, however, was made by the guide--the money was to be paid to him every saturday night, failing which, his engagement was at an end. the day of our departure was fixed. my uncle wished to hand the eider-down hunter an advance, but he refused in one emphatic word-- "efter." which being translated from icelandic into plain english means--"after." the treaty concluded, our worthy guide retired without another word. "a splendid fellow," said my uncle; "only he little suspects the marvelous part he is about to play in the history of the world." "you mean, then," i cried in amazement, "that he should accompany us?" "to the interior of the earth, yes," replied my uncle. "why not?" there were yet forty-eight hours to elapse before we made our final start. to my great regret, our whole time was taken up in making preparations for our journey. all our industry and ability were devoted to packing every object in the most advantageous manner--the instruments on one side, the arms on the other, the tools here and the provisions there. there were, in fact, four distinct groups. the instruments were of course of the best manufacture: . a centigrade thermometer of eigel, counting up to degrees, which to me did not appear half enough--or too much. too hot by half, if the degree of heat was to ascend so high--in which case we should certainly be cooked--not enough, if we wanted to ascertain the exact temperature of springs or metal in a state of fusion. . a manometer worked by compressed air, an instrument used to ascertain the upper atmospheric pressure on the level of the ocean. perhaps a common barometer would not have done as well, the atmospheric pressure being likely to increase in proportion as we descended below the surface of the earth. . a first-class chronometer made by boissonnas, of geneva, set at the meridian of hamburg, from which germans calculate, as the english do from greenwich, and the french from paris. . two compasses, one for horizontal guidance, the other to ascertain the dip. . a night glass. . two ruhmkorff coils, which, by means of a current of electricity, would ensure us a very excellent, easily carried, and certain means of obtaining light. . a voltaic battery on the newest principle.[ ] [ ] thermometer (<i>thermos</i>, and <i>metron</i>, measure); an instrument for measuring the temperature of the air.--manometer (<i>manos</i>,and <i>metron</i>, measure); an instrument to show the density or rarity of gases.--chronometer (<i>chronos</i>. time, and <i>metros</i>, measure) a time measurer, or superior watch--ruhmkorff's coil, an instrument for producing currents of induced electricity of great intensity. it consists of a coil of copper wire, insulated by being covered with silk, surrounded by another coil of fine wire, also insulated, in which a momentary current is induced when a current is passed through the inner coil from a voltaic battery. when the apparatus is in action, the gas becomes luminous, and produces a white and continued light. the battery and wire are carried in a leather bag, which the traveler fastens by a strap to his shoulders. the lantern is in front, and enables the benighted wanderer to see in the most profound obscurity. he may venture without fear of explosion into the midst of the most inflammable gases, and the lantern will burn beneath the deepest waters. h. d. ruhmkorff, an able and learned chemist, discovered the induction coil. in he won the quinquennial french prize of £ , for this ingenious application of electricity--a voltaic battery, so called from volta, its designer, is an apparatus consisting of a series of metal plates arranged in pairs and subjected to the action of saline solutions for producing currents of electricity. our arms consisted of two rifles, with two revolving six-shooters. why these arms were provided it was impossible for me to say. i had every reason to believe that we had neither wild beasts nor savage natives to fear. my uncle, on the other hand, was quite as devoted to his arsenal as to his collection of instruments, and above all was very careful with his provision of fulminating or gun cotton, warranted to keep in any climate, and of which the expansive force was known to be greater than that of ordinary gunpowder. our tools consisted of two pickaxes, two crowbars, a silken ladder, three iron-shod alpine poles, a hatchet, a hammer, a dozen wedges, some pointed pieces of iron, and a quantity of strong rope. you may conceive that the whole made a tolerable parcel, especially when i mention that the ladder itself was three hundred feet long! then there came the important question of provisions. the hamper was not very large but tolerably satisfactory, for i knew that in concentrated essence of meat and biscuit there was enough to last six months. the only liquid provided by my uncle was schiedam. of water, not a drop. we had, however, an ample supply of gourds, and my uncle counted on finding water, and enough to fill them, as soon as we commenced our downward journey. my remarks as to the temperature, the quality, and even as to the possibility of none being found, remained wholly without effect. to make up the exact list of our traveling gear--for the guidance of future travelers--add, that we carried a medicine and surgical chest with all apparatus necessary for wounds, fractures and blows; lint, scissors, lancets--in fact, a perfect collection of horrible looking instruments; a number of vials containing ammonia, alcohol, ether, goulard water, aromatic vinegar, in fact, every possible and impossible drug--finally, all the materials for working the ruhmkorff coil! my uncle had also been careful to lay in a goodly supply of tobacco, several flasks of very fine gunpowder, boxes of tinder, besides a large belt crammed full of notes and gold. good boots rendered watertight were to be found to the number of six in the tool box. "my boy, with such clothing, with such boots, and such general equipment," said my uncle, in a state of rapturous delight, "we may hope to travel far." it took a whole day to put all these matters in order. in the evening we dined with baron trampe, in company with the mayor of reykjavik, and doctor hyaltalin, the great medical man of iceland. m. fridriksson was not present, and i was afterwards sorry to hear that he and the governor did not agree on some matters connected with the administration of the island. unfortunately, the consequence was, that i did not understand a word that was said at dinner--a kind of semiofficial reception. one thing i can say, my uncle never left off speaking. the next day our labor came to an end. our worthy host delighted my uncle, professor hardwigg, by giving him a good map of iceland, a most important and precious document for a mineralogist. our last evening was spent in a long conversation with m. fridriksson, whom i liked very much--the more that i never expected to see him or anyone else again. after this agreeable way of spending an hour or so, i tried to sleep. in vain; with the exception of a few dozes, my night was miserable. at five o'clock in the morning i was awakened from the only real half hour's sleep of the night by the loud neighing of horses under my window. i hastily dressed myself and went down into the street. hans was engaged in putting the finishing stroke to our baggage, which he did in a silent, quiet way that won my admiration, and yet he did it admirably well. my uncle wasted a great deal of breath in giving him directions, but worthy hans took not the slightest notice of his words. at six o'clock all our preparations were completed, and m. fridriksson shook hands heartily with us. my uncle thanked him warmly, in the icelandic language, for his kind hospitality, speaking truly from the heart. as for myself i put together a few of my best latin phrases and paid him the highest compliments i could. this fraternal and friendly duty performed, we sallied forth and mounted our horses. as soon as we were quite ready, m. fridriksson advanced, and by way of farewell, called after me in the words of virgil--words which appeared to have been made for us, travelers starting for an uncertain destination: "et quacunque viam dederit fortuna sequamur." ("and whichsoever way thou goest, may fortune follow!") chapter our start--we meet with adventures by the way the weather was overcast but settled, when we commenced our adventurous and perilous journey. we had neither to fear fatiguing heat nor drenching rain. it was, in fact, real tourist weather. as there was nothing i liked better than horse exercise, the pleasure of riding through an unknown country caused the early part of our enterprise to be particularly agreeable to me. i began to enjoy the exhilarating delight of traveling, a life of desire, gratification and liberty. the truth is, that my spirits rose so rapidly, that i began to be indifferent to what had once appeared to be a terrible journey. "after all," i said to myself, "what do i risk? simply to take a journey through a curious country, to climb a remarkable mountain, and if the worst comes to the worst, to descend into the crater of an extinct volcano." there could be no doubt that this was all this terrible saknussemm had done. as to the existence of a gallery, or of subterraneous passages leading into the interior of the earth, the idea was simply absurd, the hallucination of a distempered imagination. all, then, that may be required of me i will do cheerfully, and will create no difficulty. it was just before we left reykjavik that i came to this decision. hans, our extraordinary guide, went first, walking with a steady, rapid, unvarying step. our two horses with the luggage followed of their own accord, without requiring whip or spur. my uncle and i came behind, cutting a very tolerable figure upon our small but vigorous animals. iceland is one of the largest islands in europe. it contains thirty thousand square miles of surface, and has about seventy thousand inhabitants. geographers have divided it into four parts, and we had to cross the southwest quarter which in the vernacular is called sudvestr fjordungr. hans, on taking his departure from reykjavik, had followed the line of the sea. we took our way through poor and sparse meadows, which made a desperate effort every year to show a little green. they very rarely succeed in a good show of yellow. the rugged summits of the rocky hills were dimly visible on the edge of the horizon, through the misty fogs; every now and then some heavy flakes of snow showed conspicuous in the morning light, while certain lofty and pointed rocks were first lost in the grey low clouds, their summits clearly visible above, like jagged reefs rising from a troublous sea. every now and then a spur of rock came down through the arid ground, leaving us scarcely room to pass. our horses, however, appeared not only well acquainted with the country, but by a kind of instinct, knew which was the best road. my uncle had not even the satisfaction of urging forward his steed by whip, spur, or voice. it was utterly useless to show any signs of impatience. i could not help smiling to see him look so big on his little horse; his long legs now and then touching the ground made him look like a six-footed centaur. "good beast, good beast," he would cry. "i assure you, that i begin to think no animal is more intelligent than an icelandic horse. snow, tempest, impracticable roads, rocks, icebergs--nothing stops him. he is brave; he is sober; he is safe; he never makes a false step; never glides or slips from his path. i dare to say that if any river, any fjord has to be crossed--and i have no doubt there will be many--you will see him enter the water without hesitation like an amphibious animal, and reach the opposite side in safety. we must not, however, attempt to hurry him; we must allow him to have his own way, and i will undertake to say that between us we shall do our ten leagues a day." "we may do so," was my reply, "but what about our worthy guide?" "i have not the slightest anxiety about him: that sort of people go ahead without knowing even what they are about. look at hans. he moves so little that it is impossible for him to become fatigued. besides, if he were to complain of weariness, he could have the loan of my horse. i should have a violent attack of the cramp if i were not to have some sort of exercise. my arms are right--but my legs are getting a little stiff." all this while we were advancing at a rapid pace. the country we had reached was already nearly a desert. here and there could be seen an isolated farm, some solitary bur, or icelandic house, built of wood, earth, fragments of lava--looking like beggars on the highway of life. these wretched and miserable huts excited in us such pity that we felt half disposed to leave alms at every door. in this country there are no roads, paths are nearly unknown, and vegetation, poor as it was, slowly as it reached perfection, soon obliterated all traces of the few travelers who passed from place to place. nevertheless, this division of the province, situated only a few miles from the capital, is considered one of the best cultivated and most thickly peopled in all iceland. what, then, must be the state of the less known and more distant parts of the island? after traveling fully half a danish mile, we had met neither a farmer at the door of his hut, nor even a wandering shepherd with his wild and savage flock. a few stray cows and sheep were only seen occasionally. what, then, must we expect when we come to the upheaved regions--to the districts broken and roughened from volcanic eruptions and subterraneous commotions? we were to learn this all in good time. i saw, however, on consulting the map, that we avoided a good deal of this rough country, by following the winding and desolate shores of the sea. in reality, the great volcanic movement of the island, and all its attendant phenomena, are concentrated in the interior of the island; there, horizontal layers or strata of rocks, piled one upon the other, eruptions of basaltic origin, and streams of lava, have given this country a kind of supernatural reputation. little did i expect, however, the spectacle which awaited us when we reached the peninsula of sneffels, where agglomerations of nature's ruins form a kind of terrible chaos. some two hours or more after we had left the city of reykjavik, we reached the little town called aoalkirkja, or the principal church. it consists simply of a few houses--not what in england or germany we should call a hamlet. hans stopped here one half hour. he shared our frugal breakfast, answered yes, and no to my uncle's questions as to the nature of the road, and at last when asked where we were to pass the night was as laconic as usual. "gardar!" was his one-worded reply. i took occasion to consult the map, to see where gardar was to be found. after looking keenly i found a small town of that name on the borders of the hvalfjord, about four miles from reykjavik. i pointed this out to my uncle, who made a very energetic grimace. "only four miles out of twenty-two? why it is only a little walk." he was about to make some energetic observation to the guide, but hans, without taking the slightest notice of him, went in front of the horses, and walked ahead with the same imperturbable phlegm he had always exhibited. three hours later, still traveling over those apparently interminable and sandy prairies, we were compelled to go round the kollafjord, an easier and shorter cut than crossing the gulfs. shortly after we entered a place of communal jurisdiction called ejulberg, and the clock of which would then have struck twelve, if any icelandic church had been rich enough to possess so valuable and useful an article. these sacred edifices are, however, very much like these people, who do without watches--and never miss them. here the horses were allowed to take some rest and refreshment, then following a narrow strip of shore between high rocks and the sea, they took us without further halt to the aoalkirkja of brantar, and after another mile to saurboer annexia, a chapel of ease, situated on the southern bank of the hvalfjord. it was four o'clock in the evening and we had traveled four danish miles, about equal to twenty english. the fjord was in this place about half a mile in width. the sweeping and broken waves came rolling in upon the pointed rocks; the gulf was surrounded by rocky walls--a mighty cliff, three thousand feet in height, remarkable for its brown strata, separated here and there by beds of tufa of a reddish hue. now, whatever may have been the intelligence of our horses, i had not the slightest reliance upon them, as a means of crossing a stormy arm of the sea. to ride over salt water upon the back of a little horse seemed to me absurd. "if they are really intelligent," i said to myself, "they will certainly not make the attempt. in any case, i shall trust rather to my own intelligence than theirs." but my uncle was in no humor to wait. he dug his heels into the sides of his steed, and made for the shore. his horse went to the very edge of the water, sniffed at the approaching wave and retreated. my uncle, who was, sooth to say, quite as obstinate as the beast he bestrode, insisted on his making the desired advance. this attempt was followed by a new refusal on the part of the horse which quietly shook his head. this demonstration of rebellion was followed by a volley of words and a stout application of whipcord; also followed by kicks on the part of the horse, which threw its head and heels upwards and tried to throw his rider. at length the sturdy little pony, spreading out his legs, in a stiff and ludicrous attitude, got from under the professor's legs, and left him standing, with both feet on a separate stone, like the colossus of rhodes. "wretched animal!" cried my uncle, suddenly transformed into a foot passenger--and as angry and ashamed as a dismounted cavalry officer on the field of battle. "farja," said the guide, tapping him familiarly on the shoulder. "what, a ferry boat!" "der," answered hans, pointing to where lay the boat in question--"there." "well," i cried, quite delighted with the information; "so it is." "why did you not say so before," cried my uncle; "why not start at once?" "tidvatten," said the guide. "what does he say?" i asked, considerably puzzled by the delay and the dialogue. "he says tide," replied my uncle, translating the danish word for my information. "of course i understand--we must wait till the tide serves." "for bida?" asked my uncle. "ja," replied hans. my uncle frowned, stamped his feet and then followed the horses to where the boat lay. i thoroughly understood and appreciated the necessity for waiting, before crossing the fjord, for that moment when the sea at its highest point is in a state of slack water. as neither the ebb nor flow can then be felt, the ferry boat was in no danger of being carried out to sea, or dashed upon the rocky coast. the favorable moment did not come until six o'clock in the evening. then my uncle, myself, and guide, two boatmen and the four horses got into a very awkward flat-bottom boat. accustomed as i had been to the steam ferry boats of the elbe, i found the long oars of the boatmen but sorry means of locomotion. we were more than an hour in crossing the fjord; but at length the passage was concluded without accident. half an hour later we reached gardar. chapter traveling in iceland it ought, one would have thought, to have been night, even in the sixty-fifth parallel of latitude; but still the nocturnal illumination did not surprise me. for in iceland, during the months of june and july, the sun never sets. the temperature, however, was very much lower than i expected. i was cold, but even that did not affect me so much as ravenous hunger. welcome indeed, therefore, was the hut which hospitably opened its doors to us. it was merely the house of a peasant, but in the matter of hospitality, it was worthy of being the palace of a king. as we alighted at the door the master of the house came forward, held out his hand, and without any further ceremony, signaled to us to follow him. we followed him, for to accompany him was impossible. a long, narrow, gloomy passage led into the interior of this habitation, made from beams roughly squared by the ax. this passage gave ingress to every room. the chambers were four in number--the kitchen, the workshop, where the weaving was carried on, the general sleeping chamber of the family, and the best room, to which strangers were especially invited. my uncle, whose lofty stature had not been taken into consideration when the house was built, contrived to knock his head against the beams of the roof. we were introduced into our chamber, a kind of large room with a hard earthen floor, and lighted by a window, the panes of which were made of a sort of parchment from the intestines of sheep--very far from transparent. the bedding was composed of dry hay thrown into two long red wooden boxes, ornamented with sentences painted in icelandic. i really had no idea that we should be made so comfortable. there was one objection to the house, and that was, the very powerful odor of dried fish, of macerated meat, and of sour milk, which three fragrances combined did not at all suit my olfactory nerves. as soon as we had freed ourselves from our heavy traveling costume, the voice of our host was heard calling to us to come into the kitchen, the only room in which the icelanders ever make any fire, no matter how cold it may be. my uncle, nothing loath, hastened to obey this hospitable and friendly invitation. i followed. the kitchen chimney was made on an antique model. a large stone standing in the middle of the room was the fireplace; above, in the roof, was a hole for the smoke to pass through. this apartment was kitchen, parlor and dining room all in one. on our entrance, our worthy host, as if he had not seen us before, advanced ceremoniously, uttered a word which means "be happy," and then kissed both of us on the cheek. his wife followed, pronounced the same word, with the same ceremonial, then the husband and wife, placing their right hands upon their hearts, bowed profoundly. this excellent icelandic woman was the mother of nineteen children, who, little and big, rolled, crawled, and walked about in the midst of volumes of smoke arising from the angular fireplace in the middle of the room. every now and then i could see a fresh white head, and a slightly melancholy expression of countenance, peering at me through the vapor. both my uncle and myself, however, were very friendly with the whole party, and before we were aware of it, there were three or four of these little ones on our shoulders, as many on our boxes, and the rest hanging about our legs. those who could speak kept crying out saellvertu in every possible and impossible key. those who did not speak only made all the more noise. this concert was interrupted by the announcement of supper. at this moment our worthy guide, the eider-duck hunter, came in after seeing to the feeding and stabling of the horses--which consisted in letting them loose to browse on the stunted green of the icelandic prairies. there was little for them to eat, but moss and some very dry and innutritious grass; next day they were ready before the door, some time before we were. "welcome," said hans. then tranquilly, with the air of an automaton, without any more expression in one kiss than another, he embraced the host and hostess and their nineteen children. this ceremony concluded to the satisfaction of all parties, we all sat down to table, that is twenty-four of us, somewhat crowded. those who were best off had only two juveniles on their knees. as soon, however, as the inevitable soup was placed on the table, the natural taciturnity, common even to icelandic babies, prevailed over all else. our host filled our plates with a portion of lichen soup of iceland moss, of by no means disagreeable flavor, an enormous lump of fish floating in sour butter. after that there came some skyr, a kind of curds and whey, served with biscuits and juniper-berry juice. to drink, we had blanda, skimmed milk with water. i was hungry, so hungry, that by way of dessert i finished up with a basin of thick oaten porridge. as soon as the meal was over, the children disappeared, whilst the grown people sat around the fireplace, on which was placed turf, heather, cow dung and dried fish-bones. as soon as everybody was sufficiently warm, a general dispersion took place, all retiring to their respective couches. our hostess offered to pull off our stockings and trousers, according to the custom of the country, but as we graciously declined to be so honored, she left us to our bed of dry fodder. next day, at five in the morning, we took our leave of these hospitable peasants. my uncle had great difficulty in making them accept a sufficient and proper remuneration. hans then gave the signal to start. we had scarcely got a hundred yards from gardar, when the character of the country changed. the soil began to be marshy and boggy, and less favorable to progress. to the right, the range of mountains was prolonged indefinitely like a great system of natural fortifications, of which we skirted the glacis. we met with numerous streams and rivulets which it was necessary to ford, and that without wetting our baggage. as we advanced, the deserted appearance increased, and yet now and then we could see human shadows flitting in the distance. when a sudden turn of the track brought us within easy reach of one of these specters, i felt a sudden impulse of disgust at the sight of a swollen head, with shining skin, utterly without hair, and whose repulsive and revolting wounds could be seen through his rags. the unhappy wretches never came forward to beg; on the contrary, they ran away; not so quick, however, but that hans was able to salute them with the universal saellvertu. "spetelsk," said he. "a leper," explained my uncle. the very sound of such a word caused a feeling of repulsion. the horrible affliction known as leprosy, which has almost vanished before the effects of modern science, is common in iceland. it is not contagious but hereditary, so that marriage is strictly prohibited to these unfortunate creatures. these poor lepers did not tend to enliven our journey, the scene of which was inexpressibly sad and lonely. the very last tufts of grassy vegetation appeared to die at our feet. not a tree was to be seen, except a few stunted willows about as big as blackberry bushes. now and then we watched a falcon soaring in the grey and misty air, taking his flight towards warmer and sunnier regions. i could not help feeling a sense of melancholy come over me. i sighed for my own native land, and wished to be back with gretchen. we were compelled to cross several little fjords, and at last came to a real gulf. the tide was at its height, and we were able to go over at once, and reach the hamlet of alftanes, about a mile farther. that evening, after fording the alfa and the heta, two rivers rich in trout and pike, we were compelled to pass the night in a deserted house, worthy of being haunted by all the fays of scandinavian mythology. the king of cold had taken up his residence there, and made us feel his presence all night. the following day was remarkable by its lack of any particular incidents. always the same damp and swampy soil; the same dreary uniformity; the same sad and monotonous aspect of scenery. in the evening, having accomplished the half of our projected journey, we slept at the annexia of krosolbt. for a whole mile we had under our feet nothing but lava. this disposition of the soil is called <i>hraun</i>: the crumbled lava on the surface was in some instances like ship cables stretched out horizontally, in others coiled up in heaps; an immense field of lava came from the neighboring mountains, all extinct volcanoes, but whose remains showed what once they had been. here and there could be made out the steam from hot water springs. there was no time, however, for us to take more than a cursory view of these phenomena. we had to go forward with what speed we might. soon the soft and swampy soil again appeared under the feet of our horses, while at every hundred yards we came upon one or more small lakes. our journey was now in a westerly direction; we had, in fact, swept round the great bay of faxa, and the twin white summits of sneffels rose to the clouds at a distance of less than five miles. the horses now advanced rapidly. the accidents and difficulties of the soil no longer checked them. i confess that fatigue began to tell severely upon me; but my uncle was as firm and as hard as he had been on the first day. i could not help admiring both the excellent professor and the worthy guide; for they appeared to regard this rugged expedition as a mere walk! on saturday, the th june, at six o'clock in the evening, we reached budir, a small town picturesquely situated on the shore of the ocean; and here the guide asked for his money. my uncle settled with him immediately. it was now the family of hans himself, that is to say, his uncles, his cousins--german, who offered us hospitality. we were exceedingly well received, and without taking too much advantage of the goodness of these worthy people, i should have liked very much to have rested with them after the fatigues of the journey. but my uncle, who did not require rest, had no idea of anything of the kind; and despite the fact that next day was sunday, i was compelled once more to mount my steed. the soil was again affected by the neighborhood of the mountains, whose granite peered out of the ground like tops of an old oak. we were skirting the enormous base of the mighty volcano. my uncle never took his eyes from off it; he could not keep from gesticulating, and looking at it with a kind of sullen defiance as much as to say "that is the giant i have made up my mind to conquer." after four hours of steady traveling, the horses stopped of themselves before the door of the presbytery of stapi. chapter we reach mount sneffels--the "reykir" stapi is a town consisting of thirty huts, built on a large plain of lava, exposed to the rays of the sun, reflected from the volcano. it stretches its humble tenements along the end of a little fjord, surrounded by a basaltic wall of the most singular character. basalt is a brown rock of igneous origin. it assumes regular forms, which astonish by their singular appearance. here we found nature proceeding geometrically, and working quite after a human fashion, as if she had employed the plummet line, the compass and the rule. if elsewhere she produces grand artistic effects by piling up huge masses without order or connection--if elsewhere we see truncated cones, imperfect pyramids, with an odd succession of lines; here, as if wishing to give a lesson in regularity, and preceding the architects of the early ages, she has erected a severe order of architecture, which neither the splendors of babylon nor the marvels of greece ever surpassed. i had often heard of the giant's causeway in ireland, and of fingal's cave in one of the hebrides, but the grand spectacle of a real basaltic formation had never yet come before my eyes. this at stapi gave us an idea of one in all its wonderful beauty and grace. the wall of the fjord, like nearly the whole of the peninsula, consisted of a series of vertical columns, in height about thirty feet. these upright pillars of stone, of the finest proportions, supported an archivault of horizontal columns which formed a kind of half-vaulted roof above the sea. at certain intervals, and below this natural basin, the eye was pleased and surprised by the sight of oval openings through which the outward waves came thundering in volleys of foam. some banks of basalt, torn from their fastenings by the fury of the waves, lay scattered on the ground like the ruins of an ancient temple--ruins eternally young, over which the storms of ages swept without producing any perceptible effect! this was the last stage of our journey. hans had brought us along with fidelity and intelligence, and i began to feel somewhat more comfortable when i reflected that he was to accompany us still farther on our way. when we halted before the house of the rector, a small and incommodious cabin, neither handsome nor more comfortable than those of his neighbors, i saw a man in the act of shoeing a horse, a hammer in his hand, and a leathern apron tied round his waist. "be happy," said the eider-down hunter, using his national salutation in his own language. "god dag--good day!" replied the former, in excellent danish. "kyrkoherde," cried hans, turning round and introducing him to my uncle. "the rector," repeated the worthy professor; "it appears, my dear harry, that this worthy man is the rector, and is not above doing his own work." during the speaking of these words the guide intimated to the kyrkoherde what was the true state of the case. the good man, ceasing from his occupation, gave a kind of halloo, upon which a tall woman, almost a giantess, came out of the hut. she was at least six feet high, which in that region is something considerable. my first impression was one of horror. i thought she had come to give us the icelandic kiss. i had, however, nothing to fear, for she did not even show much inclination to receive us into her house. the room devoted to strangers appeared to me to be by far the worst in the presbytery; it was narrow, dirty and offensive. there was, however, no choice about the matter. the rector had no notion of practicing the usual cordial and antique hospitality. far from it. before the day was over, i found we had to deal with a blacksmith, a fisherman, a hunter, a carpenter, anything but a clergyman. it must be said in his favor that we had caught him on a weekday; probably he appeared to greater advantage on the sunday. these poor priests receive from the danish government a most ridiculously inadequate salary, and collect one quarter of the tithe of their parish--not more than sixty marks current, or about l s. sterling. hence the necessity of working to live. in truth, we soon found that our host did not count civility among the cardinal virtues. my uncle soon became aware of the kind of man he had to deal with. instead of a worthy and learned scholar, he found a dull ill-mannered peasant. he therefore resolved to start on his great expedition as soon as possible. he did not care about fatigue, and resolved to spend a few days in the mountains. the preparations for our departure were made the very next day after our arrival at stapi; hans now hired three icelanders to take the place of the horses--which could no longer carry our luggage. when, however, these worthy islanders had reached the bottom of the crater, they were to go back and leave us to ourselves. this point was settled before they would agree to start. on this occasion, my uncle partly confided in hans, the eider-duck hunter, and gave him to understand that it was his intention to continue his exploration of the volcano to the last possible limits. hans listened calmly, and then nodded his head. to go there, or elsewhere, to bury himself in the bowels of the earth, or to travel over its summits, was all the same to him! as for me, amused and occupied by the incidents of travel, i had begun to forget the inevitable future; but now i was once more destined to realize the actual state of affairs. what was to be done? run away? but if i really had intended to leave professor hardwigg to his fate, it should have been at hamburg and not at the foot of sneffels. one idea, above all others, began to trouble me: a very terrible idea, and one calculated to shake the nerves of a man even less sensitive than myself. "let us consider the matter," i said to myself; "we are going to ascend the sneffels mountain. well and good. we are about to pay a visit to the very bottom of the crater. good, still. others have done it and did not perish from that course. "that, however, is not the whole matter to be considered. if a road does really present itself by which to descend into the dark and subterraneous bowels of mother earth, if this thrice unhappy saknussemm has really told the truth, we shall be most certainly lost in the midst of the labyrinth of subterraneous galleries of the volcano. now, we have no evidence to prove that sneffels is really extinct. what proof have we that an eruption is not shortly about to take place? because the monster has slept soundly since , does it follow that he is never to wake? "if he does wake what is to become of us?" these were questions worth thinking about, and upon them i reflected long and deeply. i could not lie down in search of sleep without dreaming of eruptions. the more i thought, the more i objected to be reduced to the state of dross and ashes. i could stand it no longer; so i determined at last to submit the whole case to my uncle, in the most adroit manner possible, and under the form of some totally irreconcilable hypothesis. i sought him. i laid before him my fears, and then drew back in order to let him get his passion over at his ease. "i have been thinking about the matter," he said, in the quietest tone in the world. what did he mean? was he at last about to listen to the voice of reason? did he think of suspending his projects? it was almost too much happiness to be true. i however made no remark. in fact, i was only too anxious not to interrupt him, and allowed him to reflect at his leisure. after some moments he spoke out. "i have been thinking about the matter," he resumed. "ever since we have been at stapi, my mind has been almost solely occupied with the grave question which has been submitted to me by yourself--for nothing would be unwiser and more inconsistent than to act with imprudence." "i heartily agree with you, my dear uncle," was my somewhat hopeful rejoinder. "it is now six hundred years since sneffels has spoken, but though now reduced to a state of utter silence, he may speak again. new volcanic eruptions are always preceded by perfectly well-known phenomena. i have closely examined the inhabitants of this region; i have carefully studied the soil, and i beg to tell you emphatically, my dear harry, there will be no eruption at present." as i listened to his positive affirmations, i was stupefied and could say nothing. "i see you doubt my word," said my uncle; "follow me." i obeyed mechanically. leaving the presbytery, the professor took a road through an opening in the basaltic rock, which led far away from the sea. we were soon in open country, if we could give such a name to a place all covered with volcanic deposits. the whole land seemed crushed under the weight of enormous stones--of trap, of basalt, of granite, of lava, and of all other volcanic substances. i could see many spouts of steam rising in the air. these white vapors, called in the icelandic language "reykir," come from hot water fountains, and indicate by their violence the volcanic activity of the soil. now the sight of these appeared to justify my apprehension. i was, therefore, all the more surprised and mortified when my uncle thus addressed me. "you see all this smoke, harry, my boy?" "yes, sir." "well, as long as you see them thus, you have nothing to fear from the volcano." "how can that be?" "be careful to remember this," continued the professor. "at the approach of an eruption these spouts of vapor redouble their activity--to disappear altogether during the period of volcanic eruption; for the elastic fluids, no longer having the necessary tension, seek refuge in the interior of the crater, instead of escaping through the fissures of the earth. if, then, the steam remains in its normal or habitual state, if their energy does not increase, and if you add to this, the remark that the wind is not replaced by heavy atmospheric pressure and dead calm, you may be quite sure that there is no fear of any immediate eruption." "but--" "enough, my boy. when science has sent forth her fiat--it is only to hear and obey." i came back to the house quite downcast and disappointed. my uncle had completely defeated me with his scientific arguments. nevertheless, i had still one hope, and that was, when once we were at the bottom of the crater, that it would be impossible in default of a gallery or tunnel, to descend any deeper; and this, despite all the learned saknussemms in the world. i passed the whole of the following night with a nightmare on my chest! and, after unheard-of miseries and tortures, found myself in the very depths of the earth, from which i was suddenly launched into planetary space, under the form of an eruptive rock! next day, june d, hans calmly awaited us outside the presbytery with his three companions loaded with provisions, tools, and instruments. two iron-shod poles, two guns, and two large game bags, were reserved for my uncle and myself. hans, who was a man who never forgot even the minutest precautions, had added to our baggage a large skin full of water, as an addition to our gourds. this assured us water for eight days. it was nine o'clock in the morning when we were quite ready. the rector and his huge wife or servant, i never knew which, stood at the door to see us off. they appeared to be about to inflict on us the usual final kiss of the icelanders. to our supreme astonishment their adieu took the shape of a formidable bill, in which they even counted the use of the pastoral house, really and truly the most abominable and dirty place i ever was in. the worthy couple cheated and robbed us like a swiss innkeeper, and made us feel, by the sum we had to pay, the splendors of their hospitality. my uncle, however, paid without bargaining. a man who had made up his mind to undertake a voyage into the interior of the earth, is not the man to haggle over a few miserable rix-dollars. this important matter settled, hans gave the signal for departure, and some few moments later we had left stapi. chapter the ascent of mount sneffels the huge volcano which was the first stage of our daring experiment is above five thousand feet high. sneffels is the termination of a long range of volcanic mountains, of a different character to the system of the island itself. one of its peculiarities is its two huge pointed summits. from whence we started it was impossible to make out the real outlines of the peak against the grey field of sky. all we could distinguish was a vast dome of white, which fell downwards from the head of the giant. the commencement of the great undertaking filled me with awe. now that we had actually started, i began to believe in the reality of the undertaking! our party formed quite a procession. we walked in single file, preceded by hans, the imperturbable eider-duck hunter. he calmly led us by narrow paths where two persons could by no possibility walk abreast. conversation was wholly impossible. we had all the more opportunity to reflect and admire the awful grandeur of the scene around. beyond the extraordinary basaltic wall of the fjord of stapi we found ourselves making our way through fibrous turf, over which grew a scanty vegetation of grass, the residuum of the ancient vegetation of the swampy peninsula. the vast mass of this combustible, the field of which as yet is utterly unexplored, would suffice to warm iceland for a whole century. this mighty turf pit, measured from the bottom of certain ravines, is often not less than seventy feet deep, and presents to the eye the view of successive layers of black burned-up rocky detritus, separated by thin streaks of porous sandstone. the grandeur of the spectacle was undoubted, as well as its arid and deserted air. as a true nephew of the great professor hardwigg, and despite my preoccupation and doleful fears of what was to come, i observed with great interest the vast collection of mineralogical curiosities spread out before me in this vast museum of natural history. looking back to my recent studies, i went over in thought the whole geological history of iceland. this extraordinary and curious island must have made its appearance from out of the great world of waters at a comparatively recent date. like the coral islands of the pacific, it may, for aught we know, be still rising by slow and imperceptible degrees. if this really be the case, its origin can be attributed to only one cause--that of the continued action of subterranean fires. this was a happy thought. if so, if this were true, away with the theories of sir humphry davy; away with the authority of the parchment of arne saknussemm; the wonderful pretensions to discovery on the part of my uncle--and to our journey! all must end in smoke. charmed with the idea, i began more carefully to look about me. a serious study of the soil was necessary to negative or confirm my hypothesis. i took in every item of what i saw, and i began to comprehend the succession of phenomena which had preceded its formation. iceland, being absolutely without sedimentary soil, is composed exclusively of volcanic tufa; that is to say, of an agglomeration of stones and of rocks of a porous texture. long before the existence of volcanoes, it was composed of a solid body of massive trap rock lifted bodily and slowly out of the sea, by the action of the centrifugal force at work in the earth. the internal fires, however, had not as yet burst their bounds and flooded the exterior cake of mother earth with hot and raging lava. my readers must excuse this brief and somewhat pedantic geological lecture. but it is necessary to the complete understanding of what follows. at a later period in the world's history, a huge and mighty fissure must, reasoning by analogy, have been dug diagonally from the southwest to the northeast of the island, through which by degrees flowed the volcanic crust. the great and wondrous phenomenon then went on without violence--the outpouring was enormous, and the seething fused matter, ejected from the bowels of the earth, spread slowly and peacefully in the form of vast level plains, or what are called mamelons or mounds. it was at this epoch that the rocks called feldspars, syenites, and porphyries appeared. but as a natural consequence of this overflow, the depth of the island increased. it can readily be believed what an enormous quantity of elastic fluids were piled up within its centre, when at last it afforded no other openings, after the process of cooling the crust had taken place. at length a time came when despite the enormous thickness and weight of the upper crust, the mechanical forces of the combustible gases below became so great, that they actually upheaved the weighty back and made for themselves huge and gigantic shafts. hence the volcanoes which suddenly arose through the upper crust, and next the craters, which burst forth at the summit of these new creations. it will be seen that the first phenomena in connection with the formation of the island were simply eruptive; to these, however, shortly succeeded the volcanic phenomena. through the newly formed openings, escaped the marvelous mass of basaltic stones with which the plain we were now crossing was covered. we were trampling our way over heavy rocks of dark grey color, which, while cooling, had been moulded into six-sided prisms. in the "back distance" we could see a number of flattened cones, which formerly were so many fire-vomiting mouths. after the basaltic eruption was appeased and set at rest, the volcano, the force of which increased with that of the extinct craters, gave free passage to the fiery overflow of lava, and to the mass of cinders and pumice stone, now scattered over the sides of the mountain, like disheveled hair on the shoulders of a bacchante. here, in a nutshell, i had the whole history of the phenomena from which iceland arose. all take their rise in the fierce action of interior fires, and to believe that the central mass did not remain in a state of liquid fire, white hot, was simply and purely madness. this being satisfactorily proved (q.e.d.), what insensate folly to pretend to penetrate into the interior of the mighty earth! this mental lecture delivered to myself while proceeding on a journey, did me good. i was quite reassured as to the fate of our enterprise; and therefore went, like a brave soldier mounting a bristling battery, to the assault of old sneffels. as we advanced, the road became every moment more difficult. the soil was broken and dangerous. the rocks broke and gave way under our feet, and we had to be scrupulously careful in order to avoid dangerous and constant falls. hans advanced as calmly as if he had been walking over salisbury plain; sometimes he would disappear behind huge blocks of stone, and we momentarily lost sight of him. there was a little period of anxiety and then there was a shrill whistle, just to tell us where to look for him. occasionally he would take it into his head to stop to pick up lumps of rock, and silently pile them up into small heaps, in order that we might not lose our way on our return. he had no idea of the journey we were about to undertake. at all events, the precaution was a good one; though how utterly useless and unnecessary--but i must not anticipate. three hours of terrible fatigue, walking incessantly, had only brought us to the foot of the great mountain. this will give some notion of what we had still to undergo. suddenly, however, hans cried a halt--that is, he made signs to that effect--and a summary kind of breakfast was laid out on the lava before us. my uncle, who now was simply professor hardwigg, was so eager to advance, that he bolted his food like a greedy clown. this halt for refreshment was also a halt for repose. the professor was therefore compelled to wait the good pleasure of his imperturbable guide, who did not give the signal for departure for a good hour. the three icelanders, who were as taciturn as their comrade, did not say a word; but went on eating and drinking very quietly and soberly. from this, our first real stage, we began to ascend the slopes of the sneffels volcano. its magnificent snowy nightcap, as we began to call it, by an optical delusion very common in mountains, appeared to me to be close at hand; and yet how many long weary hours must elapse before we reached its summit. what unheard-of fatigue must we endure! the stones on the mountain side, held together by no cement of soil, bound together by no roots or creeping herbs, gave way continually under our feet, and went rushing below into the plains, like a series of small avalanches. in certain places the sides of this stupendous mountain were at an angle so steep that it was impossible to climb upwards, and we were compelled to get round these obstacles as best we might. those who understand alpine climbing will comprehend our difficulties. often we were obliged to help each other along by means of our climbing poles. i must say this for my uncle, that he stuck as close to me as possible. he never lost sight of me, and on many occasions his arm supplied me with firm and solid support. he was strong, wiry, and apparently insensible to fatigue. another great advantage with him was that he had the innate sentiment of equilibrium--for he never slipped or failed in his steps. the icelanders, though heavily loaded, climbed with the agility of mountaineers. looking up, every now and then, at the height of the great volcano of sneffels, it appeared to me wholly impossible to reach to the summit on that side; at all events, if the angle of inclination did not speedily change. fortunately, after an hour of unheard-of fatigues, and of gymnastic exercises that would have been trying to an acrobat, we came to a vast field of ice, which wholly surrounded the bottom of the cone of the volcano. the natives called it the tablecloth, probably from some such reason as the dwellers in the cape of good hope call their mountain table mountain, and their roads table bay. here, to our mutual surprise, we found an actual flight of stone steps, which wonderfully assisted our ascent. this singular flight of stairs was, like everything else, volcanic. it had been formed by one of those torrents of stones cast up by the eruptions, and of which the icelandic name is stina. if this singular torrent had not been checked in its descent by the peculiar shape of the flanks of the mountain, it would have swept into the sea, and would have formed new islands. such as it was, it served us admirably. the abrupt character of the slopes momentarily increased, but these remarkable stone steps, a little less difficult than those of the egyptian pyramids, were the one simple natural means by which we were enabled to proceed. about seven in the evening of that day, after having clambered up two thousand of these rough steps, we found ourselves overlooking a kind of spur or projection of the mountain--a sort of buttress upon which the conelike crater, properly so called, leaned for support. the ocean lay beneath us at a depth of more than three thousand two hundred feet--a grand and mighty spectacle. we had reached the region of eternal snows. the cold was keen, searching and intense. the wind blew with extraordinary violence. i was utterly exhausted. my worthy uncle, the professor, saw clearly that my legs refused further service, and that, in fact, i was utterly exhausted. despite his hot and feverish impatience, he decided, with a sigh, upon a halt. he called the eider-duck hunter to his side. that worthy, however, shook his head. "ofvanfor," was his sole spoken reply. "it appears," says my uncle with a woebegone look, "that we must go higher." he then turned to hans, and asked him to give some reason for this decisive response. "mistour," replied the guide. "ja, mistour--yes, the mistour," cried one of the icelandic guides in a terrified tone. it was the first time he had spoken. "what does this mysterious word signify?" i anxiously inquired. "look," said my uncle. i looked down upon the plain below, and i saw a vast, a prodigious volume of pulverized pumice stone, of sand, of dust, rising to the heavens in the form of a mighty waterspout. it resembled the fearful phenomenon of a similar character known to the travelers in the desert of the great sahara. the wind was driving it directly towards that side of sneffels on which we were perched. this opaque veil standing up between us and the sun projected a deep shadow on the flanks of the mountain. if this sand spout broke over us, we must all be infallibly destroyed, crushed in its fearful embraces. this extraordinary phenomenon, very common when the wind shakes the glaciers, and sweeps over the arid plains, is in the icelandic tongue called "mistour." "hastigt, hastigt!" cried our guide. now i certainly knew nothing of danish, but i thoroughly understood that his gestures were meant to quicken us. the guide turned rapidly in a direction which would take us to the back of the crater, all the while ascending slightly. we followed rapidly, despite our excessive fatigue. a quarter of an hour later hans paused to enable us to look back. the mighty whirlwind of sand was spreading up the slope of the mountain to the very spot where we had proposed to halt. huge stones were caught up, cast into the air, and thrown about as during an eruption. we were happily a little out of the direction of the wind, and therefore out of reach of danger. but for the precaution and knowledge of our guide, our dislocated bodies, our crushed and broken limbs, would have been cast to the wind, like dust from some unknown meteor. hans, however, did not think it prudent to pass the night on the bare side of the cone. we therefore continued our journey in a zigzag direction. the fifteen hundred feet which remained to be accomplished took us at least five hours. the turnings and windings, the no-thoroughfares, the marches and marches, turned that insignificant distance into at least three leagues. i never felt such misery, fatigue and exhaustion in my life. i was ready to faint from hunger and cold. the rarefied air at the same time painfully acted upon my lungs. at last, when i thought myself at my last gasp, about eleven at night, it being in that region quite dark, we reached the summit of mount sneffels! it was in an awful mood of mind, that despite my fatigue, before i descended into the crater which was to shelter us for the night, i paused to behold the sun rise at midnight on the very day of its lowest declension, and enjoyed the spectacle of its ghastly pale rays cast upon the isle which lay sleeping at our feet! i no longer wondered at people traveling all the way from england to norway to behold this magical and wondrous spectacle. chapter the shadow of scartaris our supper was eaten with ease and rapidity, after which everybody did the best he could for himself within the hollow of the crater. the bed was hard, the shelter unsatisfactory, the situation painful--lying in the open air, five thousand feet above the level of the sea! nevertheless, it has seldom happened to me to sleep so well as i did on that particular night. i did not even dream. so much for the effects of what my uncle called "wholesome fatigue." next day, when we awoke under the rays of a bright and glorious sun, we were nearly frozen by the keen air. i left my granite couch and made one of the party to enjoy a view of the magnificent spectacle which developed itself, panorama-like, at our feet. i stood upon the lofty summit of mount sneffels' southern peak. thence i was able to obtain a view of the greater part of the island. the optical delusion, common to all lofty heights, raised the shores of the island, while the central portions appeared depressed. it was by no means too great a flight of fancy to believe that a giant picture was stretched out before me. i could see the deep valleys that crossed each other in every direction. i could see precipices looking like sides of wells, lakes that seemed to be changed into ponds, ponds that looked like puddles, and rivers that were transformed into petty brooks. to my right were glaciers upon glaciers, and multiplied peaks, topped with light clouds of smoke. the undulation of these infinite numbers of mountains, whose snowy summits make them look as if covered by foam, recalled to my remembrance the surface of a storm-beaten ocean. if i looked towards the west, the ocean lay before me in all its majestic grandeur, a continuation as it were, of these fleecy hilltops. where the earth ended and the sea began it was impossible for the eye to distinguish. i soon felt that strange and mysterious sensation which is awakened in the mind when looking down from lofty hilltops, and now i was able to do so without any feeling of nervousness, having fortunately hardened myself to that kind of sublime contemplation. i wholly forgot who i was, and where i was. i became intoxicated with a sense of lofty sublimity, without thought of the abysses into which my daring was soon about to plunge me. i was presently, however, brought back to the realities of life by the arrival of the professor and hans, who joined me upon the lofty summit of the peak. my uncle, turning in a westerly direction, pointed out to me a light cloud of vapor, a kind of haze, with a faint outline of land rising out of the waters. "greenland!" said he. "greenland?" cried i in reply. "yes," continued my uncle, who always when explaining anything spoke as if he were in a professor's chair; "we are not more than thirty-five leagues distant from that wonderful land. when the great annual breakup of the ice takes place, white bears come over to iceland, carried by the floating masses of ice from the north. this, however, is a matter of little consequence. we are now on the summit of the great, the transcendent sneffels, and here are its two peaks, north and south. hans will tell you the name by which the people of iceland call that on which we stand." my uncle turned to the imperturbable guide, who nodded, and spoke as usual--one word. "scartaris." my uncle looked at me with a proud and triumphant glance. "a crater," he said, "you hear?" i did hear, but i was totally unable to make reply. the crater of mount sneffels represented an inverted cone, the gaping orifice apparently half a mile across; the depth indefinite feet. conceive what this hole must have been like when full of flame and thunder and lightning. the bottom of the funnel-shaped hollow was about five hundred feet in circumference, by which it will be seen that the slope from the summit to the bottom was very gradual, and we were therefore clearly able to get there without much fatigue or difficulty. involuntarily, i compared this crater to an enormous loaded cannon; and the comparison completely terrified me. "to descend into the interior of a cannon," i thought to myself, "when perhaps it is loaded, and will go off at the least shock, is the act of a madman." but there was no longer any opportunity for me to hesitate. hans, with a perfectly calm and indifferent air, took his usual post at the head of the adventurous little band. i followed without uttering a syllable. i felt like the lamb led to the slaughter. in order to render the descent less difficult, hans took his way down the interior of the cone in rather a zigzag fashion, making, as the sailors say, long tracks to the eastward, followed by equally long ones to the west. it was necessary to walk through the midst of eruptive rocks, some of which, shaken in their balance, went rolling down with thundering clamor to the bottom of the abyss. these continual falls awoke echoes of singular power and effect. many portions of the cone consisted of inferior glaciers. hans, whenever he met with one of these obstacles, advanced with a great show of precaution, sounding the soil with his long iron pole in order to discover fissures and layers of deep soft snow. in many doubtful or dangerous places, it became necessary for us to be tied together by a long rope in order that should any one of us be unfortunate enough to slip, he would be supported by his companions. this connecting link was doubtless a prudent precaution, but not by any means unattended with danger. nevertheless, and despite all the manifold difficulties of the descent, along slopes with which our guide was wholly unacquainted, we made considerable progress without accident. one of our great parcels of rope slipped from one of the iceland porters, and rushed by a short cut to the bottom of the abyss. by midday we were at the end of our journey. i looked upwards, and saw only the upper orifice of the cone, which served as a circular frame to a very small portion of the sky--a portion which seemed to me singularly beautiful. should i ever again gaze on that lovely sunlit sky! the only exception to this extraordinary landscape, was the peak of scartaris, which seemed lost in the great void of the heavens. the bottom of the crater was composed of three separate shafts, through which, during periods of eruption, when sneffels was in action, the great central furnace sent forth its burning lava and poisonous vapors. each of these chimneys or shafts gaped open-mouthed in our path. i kept as far away from them as possible, not even venturing to take the faintest peep downwards. as for the professor, after a rapid examination of their disposition and characteristics, he became breathless and panting. he ran from one to the other like a delighted schoolboy, gesticulating wildly, and uttering incomprehensible and disjointed phrases in all sorts of languages. hans, the guide, and his humbler companions seated themselves on some piles of lava and looked silently on. they clearly took my uncle for a lunatic; and--waited the result. suddenly the professor uttered a wild, unearthly cry. at first i imagined he had lost his footing, and was falling headlong into one of the yawning gulfs. nothing of the kind. i saw him, his arms spread out to their widest extent, his legs stretched apart, standing upright before an enormous pedestal, high enough and black enough to bear a gigantic statue of pluto. his attitude and mien were that of a man utterly stupefied. but his stupefaction was speedily changed to the wildest joy. "harry! harry! come here!" he cried; "make haste--wonderful--wonderful!" unable to understand what he meant, i turned to obey his commands. neither hans nor the other icelanders moved a step. "look!" said the professor, in something of the manner of the french general, pointing out the pyramids to his army. and fully partaking his stupefaction, if not his joy, i read on the eastern side of the huge block of stone, the same characters, half eaten away by the corrosive action of time, the name, to me a thousand times accursed-- [illustration: runic glyphs] "arne saknussemm!" cried my uncle, "now, unbeliever, do you begin to have faith?" it was totally impossible for me to answer a single word. i went back to my pile of lava, in a state of silent awe. the evidence was unanswerable, overwhelming! in a few moments, however, my thoughts were far away, back in my german home, with gretchen and the old cook. what would i have given for one of my cousin's smiles, for one of the ancient domestic's omelettes, and for my own feather bed! how long i remained in this state i know not. all i can say is, that when at last i raised my head from between my hands, there remained at the bottom of the crater only myself, my uncle and hans. the icelandic porters had been dismissed and were now descending the exterior slopes of mount sneffels, on their way to stapi. how heartily did i wish myself with them! hans slept tranquilly at the foot of a rock in a kind of rill of lava, where he had made himself a rough and ready bed. my uncle was walking about the bottom of the crater like a wild beast in a cage. i had no desire, neither had i the strength, to move from my recumbent position. taking example by the guide, i gave way to a kind of painful somnolency, during which i seemed both to hear and feel continued heavings and shudderings in the mountain. in this way we passed our first night in the interior of a crater. next morning, a grey, cloudy, heavy sky hung like a funereal pall over the summit of the volcanic cone. i did not notice it so much from the obscurity that reigned around us, as from the rage with which my uncle was devoured. i fully understood the reason, and again a glimpse of hope made my heart leap with joy. i will briefly explain the cause. of the three openings which yawned beneath our steps, only one could have been followed by the adventurous saknussemm. according to the words of the learned icelander, it was only to be known by that one particular mentioned in the cryptograph, that the shadow of scartaris fell upon it, just touching its mouth in the last days of the month of june. we were, in fact, to consider the pointed peak as the stylus of an immense sun-dial, the shadow of which pointed on one given day, like the inexorable finger of fate, to the yawning chasm which led into the interior of the earth. now, as often happens in these regions, should the sun fail to burst through the clouds, no shadow. consequently, no chance of discovering the right aperture. we had already reached the th june. if the kindly heavens would only remain densely clouded for six more days, we should have to put off our voyage of discovery for another year, when certainly there would be one person fewer in the party. i already had sufficient of the mad and monstrous enterprise. it would be utterly impossible to depict the impotent rage of professor hardwigg. the day passed away, and not the faintest outline of a shadow could be seen at the bottom of the crater. hans the guide never moved from his place. he must have been curious to know what we were about, if indeed he could believe we were about anything. as for my uncle, he never addressed a word to me. he was nursing his wrath to keep it warm! his eyes fixed on the black and foggy atmosphere, his complexion hideous with suppressed passion. never had his eyes appeared so fierce, his nose so aquiline, his mouth so hard and firm. on the th no change for the better. a mixture of rain and snow fell during the whole day. hans very quietly built himself a hut of lava into which he retired like diogenes into his tub. i took a malicious delight in watching the thousand little cascades that flowed down the side of the cone, carrying with them at times a stream of stones into the "vasty deep" below. my uncle was almost frantic: to be sure, it was enough to make even a patient man angry. he had reached to a certain extent the goal of his desires, and yet he was likely to be wrecked in port. but if the heavens and the elements are capable of causing us much pain and sorrow, there are two sides to a medal. and there was reserved for professor hardwigg a brilliant and sudden surprise which was to compensate him for all his sufferings. next day the sky was still overcast, but on sunday, the th, the last day but two of the month, with a sudden change of wind and a new moon there came a change of weather. the sun poured its beaming rays to the very bottom of the crater. each hillock, every rock, every stone, every asperity of the soil had its share of the luminous effulgence, and its shadow fell heavily on the soil. among others, to his insane delight, the shadow of scartaris was marked and clear, and moved slowly with the radiant start of day. my uncle moved with it in a state of mental ecstasy. at twelve o'clock exactly, when the sun had attained its highest altitude for the day, the shadow fell upon the edge of the central pit! "here it is," gasped the professor in an agony of joy, "here it is--we have found it. forward, my friends, into the interior of the earth." i looked curiously at hans to see what reply he would make to this terrific announcement. "forut," said the guide tranquilly. "forward it is," answered my uncle, who was now in the seventh heaven of delight. when we were quite ready, our watches indicated thirteen minutes past one! chapter the real journey commences our real journey had now commenced. hitherto our courage and determination had overcome all difficulties. we were fatigued at times; and that was all. now we were about to encounter unknown and fearful dangers. i had not as yet ventured to take a glimpse down the horrible abyss into which in a few minutes more i was about to plunge. the fatal moment had, however, at last arrived. i had still the option of refusing or accepting a share in this foolish and audacious enterprise. but i was ashamed to show more fear than the eider-duck hunter. hans seemed to accept the difficulties of the journey so tranquilly, with such calm indifference, with such perfect recklessness of all danger, that i actually blushed to appear less of a man than he! had i been alone with my uncle, i should certainly have sat down and argued the point fully; but in the presence of the guide i held my tongue. i gave one moment to the thought of my charming cousin, and then i advanced to the mouth of the central shaft. it measured about a hundred feet in diameter, which made about three hundred in circumference. i leaned over a rock which stood on its edge, and looked down. my hair stood on end, my teeth chattered, my limbs trembled. i seemed utterly to lose my centre of gravity, while my head was in a sort of whirl, like that of a drunken man. there is nothing more powerful than this attraction towards an abyss. i was about to fall headlong into the gaping well, when i was drawn back by a firm and powerful hand. it was that of hans. i had not taken lessons enough at the frelser's-kirk of copenhagen in the art of looking down from lofty eminences without blinking! however, few as the minutes were during which i gazed down this tremendous and even wondrous shaft, i had a sufficient glimpse of it to give me some idea of its physical conformation. its sides, which were almost as perpendicular as those of a well, presented numerous projections which doubtless would assist our descent. it was a sort of wild and savage staircase, without bannister or fence. a rope fastened above, near the surface, would certainly support our weight and enable us to reach the bottom, but how, when we had arrived at its utmost depth, were we to loosen it above? this was, i thought, a question of some importance. my uncle, however, was one of those men who are nearly always prepared with expedients. he hit upon a very simple method of obviating this difficulty. he unrolled a cord about as thick as my thumb, and at least four hundred feet in length. he allowed about half of it to go down the pit and catch in a hitch over a great block of lava which stood on the edge of the precipice. this done, he threw the second half after the first. each of us could now descend by catching the two cords in one hand. when about two hundred feet below, all the explorer had to do was to let go one end and pull away at the other, when the cord would come falling at his feet. in order to go down farther, all that was necessary was to continue the same operation. this was a very excellent proposition, and no doubt, a correct one. going down appeared to me easy enough; it was the coming up again that now occupied my thoughts. "now," said my uncle, as soon as he had completed this important preparation, "let us see about the baggage. it must be divided into three separate parcels, and each of us must carry one on his back. i allude to the more important and fragile articles." my worthy and ingenious uncle did not appear to consider that we came under the denomination. "hans," he continued, "you will take charge of the tools and some of the provisions; you, harry, must take possession of another third of the provisions and of the arms. i will load myself with the rest of the eatables, and with the more delicate instruments." "but," i exclaimed, "our clothes, this mass of cord and ladders--who will undertake to carry them down?" "they will go down of themselves." "and how so?" i asked. "you shall see." my uncle was not fond of half measures, nor did he like anything in the way of hesitation. giving his orders to hans he had the whole of the nonfragile articles made up into one bundle; and the packet, firmly and solidly fastened, was simply pitched over the edge of the gulf. i heard the moaning of the suddenly displaced air, and the noise of falling stones. my uncle leaning over the abyss followed the descent of his luggage with a perfectly self-satisfied air, and did not rise until it had completely disappeared from sight. "now then," he cried, "it is our turn." i put it in good faith to any man of common sense--was it possible to hear this energetic cry without a shudder? the professor fastened his case of instruments on his back. hans took charge of the tools, i of the arms. the descent then commenced in the following order: hans went first, my uncle followed, and i went last. our progress was made in profound silence--a silence only troubled by the fall of pieces of rock, which breaking from the jagged sides, fell with a roar into the depths below. i allowed myself to slide, so to speak, holding frantically on the double cord with one hand and with the other keeping myself off the rocks by the assistance of my iron-shod pole. one idea was all the time impressed upon my brain. i feared that the upper support would fail me. the cord appeared to me far too fragile to bear the weight of three such persons as we were, with our luggage. i made as little use of it as possible, trusting to my own agility and doing miracles in the way of feats of dexterity and strength upon the projecting shelves and spurs of lava which my feet seemed to clutch as strongly as my hands. the guide went first, i have said, and when one of the slippery and frail supports broke from under his feet he had recourse to his usual monosyllabic way of speaking. "gif akt--" "attention--look out," repeated my uncle. in about half an hour we reached a kind of small terrace formed by a fragment of rock projecting some distance from the sides of the shaft. hans now began to haul upon the cord on one side only, the other going as quietly upward as the other came down. it fell at last, bringing with it a shower of small stones, lava and dust, a disagreeable kind of rain or hail. while we were seated on this extraordinary bench i ventured once more to look downwards. with a sigh i discovered that the bottom was still wholly invisible. were we, then, going direct to the interior of the earth? the performance with the cord recommenced, and a quarter of an hour later we had reached to the depth of another two hundred feet. i have very strong doubts if the most determined geologist would, during that descent, have studied the nature of the different layers of earth around him. i did not trouble my head much about the matter; whether we were among the combustible carbon, silurians, or primitive soil, i neither knew nor cared to know. not so the inveterate professor. he must have taken notes all the way down, for, at one of our halts, he began a brief lecture. "the farther we advance," said he, "the greater is my confidence in the result. the disposition of these volcanic strata absolutely confirms the theories of sir humphry davy. we are still within the region of the primordial soil, the soil in which took place the chemical operation of metals becoming inflamed by coming in contact with the air and water. i at once regret the old and now forever exploded theory of a central fire. at all events, we shall soon know the truth." such was the everlasting conclusion to which he came. i, however, was very far from being in humor to discuss the matter. i had something else to think of. my silence was taken for consent; and still we continued to go down. at the expiration of three hours, we were, to all appearance, as far off as ever from the bottom of the well. when i looked upwards, however, i could see that the upper orifice was every minute decreasing in size. the sides of the shaft were getting closer and closer together, we were approaching the regions of eternal night! and still we continued to descend! at length, i noticed that when pieces of stone were detached from the sides of this stupendous precipice, they were swallowed up with less noise than before. the final sound was sooner heard. we were approaching the bottom of the abyss! as i had been very careful to keep account of all the changes of cord which took place, i was able to tell exactly what was the depth we had reached, as well as the time it had taken. we had shifted the rope twenty-eight times, each operation taking a quarter of an hour, which in all made seven hours. to this had to be added twenty-eight pauses; in all ten hours and a half. we started at one, it was now, therefore, about eleven o'clock at night. it does not require great knowledge of arithmetic to know that twenty-eight times two hundred feet makes five thousand six hundred feet in all (more than an english mile). while i was making this mental calculation a voice broke the silence. it was the voice of hans. "halt!" he cried. i checked myself very suddenly, just at the moment when i was about to kick my uncle on the head. "we have reached the end of our journey," said the worthy professor in a satisfied tone. "what, the interior of the earth?" said i, slipping down to his side. "no, you stupid fellow! but we have reached the bottom of the well." "and i suppose there is no farther progress to be made?" i hopefully exclaimed. "oh, yes, i can dimly see a sort of tunnel, which turns off obliquely to the right. at all events, we must see about that tomorrow. let us sup now, and seek slumber as best we may." i thought it time, but made no observations on that point. i was fairly launched on a desperate course, and all i had to do was to go forward hopefully and trustingly. it was not even now quite dark, the light filtering down in a most extraordinary manner. we opened the provision bag, ate a frugal supper, and each did his best to find a bed amid the pile of stones, dirt, and lava which had accumulated for ages at the bottom of the shaft. i happened to grope out the pile of ropes, ladders, and clothes which we had thrown down; and upon them i stretched myself. after such a day's labor, my rough bed seemed as soft as down! for a while i lay in a sort of pleasant trance. presently, after lying quietly for some minutes, i opened my eyes and looked upwards. as i did so i made out a brilliant little dot, at the extremity of this long, gigantic telescope. it was a star without scintillating rays. according to my calculation, it must be beta in the constellation of the little bear. after this little bit of astronomical recreation, i dropped into a sound sleep. chapter we continue our descent at eight o'clock the next morning, a faint kind of dawn of day awoke us. the thousand and one prisms of the lava collected the light as it passed and brought it to us like a shower of sparks. we were able with ease to see objects around us. "well, harry, my boy," cried the delighted professor, rubbing his hands together, "what say you now? did you ever pass a more tranquil night in our house in the konigstrasse? no deafening sounds of cart wheels, no cries of hawkers, no bad language from boatmen or watermen!" "well, uncle, we are quite at the bottom of this well--but to me there is something terrible in this calm." "why," said the professor hotly, "one would say you were already beginning to be afraid. how will you get on presently? do you know, that as yet, we have not penetrated one inch into the bowels of the earth." "what can you mean, sir?" was my bewildered and astonished reply. "i mean to say that we have only just reached the soil of the island itself. this long vertical tube, which ends at the bottom of the crater of sneffels, ceases here just about on a level with the sea." "are you sure, sir?" "quite sure. consult the barometer." it was quite true that the mercury, after rising gradually in the instrument, as long as our descent was taking place, had stopped precisely at twenty-nine degrees. "you perceive," said the professor, "we have as yet only to endure the pressure of air. i am curious to replace the barometer by the manometer." the barometer, in fact, was about to become useless--as soon as the weight of the air was greater than what was calculated as above the level of the ocean. "but," said i, "is it not very much to be feared that this ever-increasing pressure may not in the end turn out very painful and inconvenient?" "no," said he. "we shall descend very slowly, and our lungs will be gradually accustomed to breathe compressed air. it is well known that aeronauts have gone so high as to be nearly without air at all--why, then, should we not accustom ourselves to breathe when we have, say, a little too much of it? for myself, i am certain i shall prefer it. let us not lose a moment. where is the packet which preceded us in our descent?" i smilingly pointed it out to my uncle. hans had not seen it, and believed it caught somewhere above us: "huppe" as he phrased it. "now," said my uncle, "let us breakfast, and break fast like people who have a long day's work before them." biscuit and dried meat, washed down by some mouthfuls of water flavored with schiedam, was the material of our luxurious meal. as soon as it was finished, my uncle took from his pocket a notebook destined to be filled by memoranda of our travels. he had already placed his instruments in order, and this is what he wrote: monday, june th chronometer, h. m. morning. barometer, . inches. thermometer, degrees [ degrees fahr.] direction, e.s.e. this last observation referred to the obscure gallery, and was indicated to us by the compass. "now, harry," cried the professor, in an enthusiastic tone of voice, "we are truly about to take our first step into the interior of the earth; never before visited by man since the first creation of the world. you may consider, therefore, that at this precise moment our travels really commence." as my uncle made this remark, he took in one hand the ruhmkorff coil apparatus, which hung round his neck, and with the other he put the electric current into communication with the worm of the lantern. and a bright light at once illumined that dark and gloomy tunnel! the effect was magical! hans, who carried the second apparatus, had it also put into operation. this ingenious application of electricity to practical purposes enabled us to move along by the light of an artificial day, amid even the flow of the most inflammable and combustible gases. "forward!" cried my uncle. each took up his burden. hans went first, my uncle followed, and i going third, we entered the somber gallery! just as we were about to engulf ourselves in this dismal passage, i lifted up my head, and through the tubelike shaft saw that iceland sky i was never to see again! was it the last i should ever see of any sky? the stream of lava flowing from the bowels of the earth in had forced itself a passage through the tunnel. it lined the whole of the inside with its thick and brilliant coating. the electric light added very greatly to the brilliancy of the effect. the great difficulty of our journey now began. how were we to prevent ourselves from slipping down the steeply inclined plane? happily some cracks, abrasures of the soil, and other irregularities, served the place of steps; and we descended slowly; allowing our heavy luggage to slip on before, at the end of a long cord. but that which served as steps under our feet became in other places stalactites. the lava, very porous in certain places, took the form of little round blisters. crystals of opaque quartz, adorned with limpid drops of natural glass suspended to the roof like lusters, seemed to take fire as we passed beneath them. one would have fancied that the genii of romance were illuminating their underground palaces to receive the sons of men. "magnificent, glorious!" i cried in a moment of involuntary enthusiasm, "what a spectacle, uncle! do you not admire these variegated shades of lava, which run through a whole series of colors, from reddish brown to pale yellow--by the most insensible degrees? and these crystals, they appear like luminous globes." "you are beginning to see the charms of travel, master harry," cried my uncle. "wait a bit, until we advance farther. what we have as yet discovered is nothing--onwards, my boy, onwards!" it would have been a far more correct and appropriate expression, had he said, "let us slide," for we were going down an inclined plane with perfect ease. the compass indicated that we were moving in a southeasterly direction. the flow of lava had never turned to the right or the left. it had the inflexibility of a straight line. nevertheless, to my surprise, we found no perceptible increase in heat. this proved the theories of humphry davy to be founded on truth, and more than once i found myself examining the thermometer in silent astonishment. two hours after our departure it only marked fifty-four degrees fahrenheit. i had every reason to believe from this that our descent was far more horizontal than vertical. as for discovering the exact depth to which we had attained, nothing could be easier. the professor as he advanced measured the angles of deviation and inclination; but he kept the result of his observations to himself. about eight o'clock in the evening, my uncle gave the signal for halting. hans seated himself on the ground. the lamps were hung to fissures in the lava rock. we were now in a large cavern where air was not wanting. on the contrary, it abounded. what could be the cause of this--to what atmospheric agitation could be ascribed this draught? but this was a question which i did not care to discuss just then. fatigue and hunger made me incapable of reasoning. an unceasing march of seven hours had not been kept up without great exhaustion. i was really and truly worn out; and delighted enough i was to hear the word halt. hans laid out some provisions on a lump of lava, and we each supped with keen relish. one thing, however, caused us great uneasiness--our water reserve was already half exhausted. my uncle had full confidence in finding subterranean resources, but hitherto we had completely failed in so doing. i could not help calling my uncle's attention to the circumstance. "and you are surprised at this total absence of springs?" he said. "doubtless--i am very uneasy on the point. we have certainly not enough water to last us five days." "be quite easy on that matter," continued my uncle. "i answer for it we shall find plenty of water--in fact, far more than we shall want." "but when?" "when we once get through this crust of lava. how can you expect springs to force their way through these solid stone walls?" "but what is there to prove that this concrete mass of lava does not extend to the centre of the earth? i don't think we have as yet done much in a vertical way." "what puts that into your head, my boy?" asked my uncle mildly. "well, it appears to me that if we had descended very far below the level of the sea--we should find it rather hotter than we have." "according to your system," said my uncle; "but what does the thermometer say?" "scarcely fifteen degrees by reaumur, which is only an increase of nine since our departure." "well, and what conclusion does that bring you to?" inquired the professor. "the deduction i draw from this is very simple. according to the most exact observations, the augmentation of the temperature of the interior of the earth is one degree for every hundred feet. but certain local causes may considerably modify this figure. thus at yakoust in siberia, it has been remarked that the heat increases a degree every thirty-six feet. the difference evidently depends on the conductibility of certain rocks. in the neighborhood of an extinct volcano, it has been remarked that the elevation of temperature was only one degree in every five-and-twenty feet. let us, then, go upon this calculation--which is the most favorable--and calculate." "calculate away, my boy." "nothing easier," said i, pulling out my notebook and pencil. "nine times one hundred and twenty-five feet make a depth of eleven hundred and twenty-five feet." "archimedes could not have spoken more geometrically." "well?" "well, according to my observations, we are at least ten thousand feet below the level of the sea." "can it be possible?" "either my calculation is correct, or there is no truth in figures." the calculations of the professor were perfectly correct. we were already six thousand feet deeper down in the bowels of the earth than anyone had ever been before. the lowest known depth to which man had hitherto penetrated was in the mines of kitzbuhel, in the tirol, and those of wurttemberg. the temperature, which should have been eighty-one, was in this place only fifteen. this was a matter for serious consideration. chapter the eastern tunnel the next day was tuesday, the th of june--and at six o'clock in the morning we resumed our journey. we still continued to follow the gallery of lava, a perfect natural pathway, as easy of descent as some of those inclined planes which, in very old german houses, serve the purpose of staircases. this went on until seventeen minutes past twelve, the precise instant at which we rejoined hans, who, having been somewhat in advance, had suddenly stopped. "at last," cried my uncle, "we have reached the end of the shaft." i looked wonderingly about me. we were in the centre of four cross paths--somber and narrow tunnels. the question now arose as to which it was wise to take; and this of itself was no small difficulty. my uncle, who did not wish to appear to have any hesitation about the matter before myself or the guide, at once made up his mind. he pointed quietly to the eastern tunnel; and, without delay, we entered within its gloomy recesses. besides, had he entertained any feeling of hesitation it might have been prolonged indefinitely, for there was no indication by which to determine on a choice. it was absolutely necessary to trust to chance and good fortune! the descent of this obscure and narrow gallery was very gradual and winding. sometimes we gazed through a succession of arches, its course very like the aisles of a gothic cathedral. the great artistic sculptors and builders of the middle ages might have here completed their studies with advantage. many most beautiful and suggestive ideas of architectural beauty would have been discovered by them. after passing through this phase of the cavernous way, we suddenly came, about a mile farther on, upon a square system of arch, adopted by the early romans, projecting from the solid rock, and keeping up the weight of the roof. suddenly we would come upon a series of low subterranean tunnels which looked like beaver holes, or the work of foxes--through whose narrow and winding ways we had literally to crawl! the heat still remained at quite a supportable degree. with an involuntary shudder, i reflected on what the heat must have been when the volcano of sneffels was pouring its smoke, flames, and streams of boiling lava--all of which must have come up by the road we were now following. i could imagine the torrents of hot seething stone darting on, bubbling up with accompaniments of smoke, steam, and sulphurous stench! "only to think of the consequences," i mused, "if the old volcano were once more to set to work." i did not communicate these rather unpleasant reflections to my uncle. he not only would not have understood them, but would have been intensely disgusted. his only idea was to go ahead. he walked, he slid, he clambered over piles of fragments, he rolled down heaps of broken lava, with an earnestness and conviction it was impossible not to admire. at six o'clock in the evening, after a very wearisome journey, but one not so fatiguing as before, we had made six miles towards the southward, but had not gone more than a mile downwards. my uncle, as usual, gave the signal to halt. we ate our meal in thoughtful silence, and then retired to sleep. our arrangements for the night were very primitive and simple. a traveling rug, in which each rolled himself, was all our bedding. we had no necessity to fear cold or any unpleasant visit. travelers who bury themselves in the wilds and depths of the african desert, who seek profit and pleasure in the forests of the new world, are compelled to take it in turn to watch during the hours of sleep; but in this region of the earth absolute solitude and complete security reigned supreme. we had nothing to fear either from savages or from wild beasts. after a night's sweet repose, we awoke fresh and ready for action. there being nothing to detain us, we started on our journey. we continued to burrow through the lava tunnel as before. it was impossible to make out through what soil we were making way. the tunnel, moreover, instead of going down into the bowels of the earth, became absolutely horizontal. i even thought, after some examination, that we were actually tending upwards. about ten o'clock in the day this state of things became so clear that, finding the change very fatiguing, i was obliged to slacken my pace and finally come to a halt. "well," said the professor quickly, "what is the matter?" "the fact is, i am dreadfully tired," was my earnest reply. "what," cried my uncle, "tired after a three hours' walk, and by so easy a road?" "easy enough, i dare say, but very fatiguing." "but how can that be, when all we have to do is to go downwards." "i beg your pardon, sir. for some time i have noticed that we are going upwards." "upwards," cried my uncle, shrugging his shoulders, "how can that be?" "there can be no doubt about it. for the last half hour the slopes have been upward--and if we go on in this way much longer we shall find ourselves back in iceland." my uncle shook his head with the air of a man who does not want to be convinced. i tried to continue the conversation. he would not answer me, but once more gave the signal for departure. his silence i thought was only caused by concentrated ill-temper. however this might be, i once more took up my load, and boldly and resolutely followed hans, who was now in advance of my uncle. i did not like to be beaten or even distanced. i was naturally anxious not to lose sight of my companions. the very idea of being left behind, lost in that terrible labyrinth, made me shiver as with the ague. besides, if the ascending path was more arduous and painful to clamber, i had one source of secret consolation and delight. it was to all appearance taking us back to the surface of the earth. that of itself was hopeful. every step i took confirmed me in my belief, and i began already to build castles in the air in relation to my marriage with my pretty little cousin. about twelve o'clock there was a great and sudden change in the aspect of the rocky sides of the gallery. i first noticed it from the diminution of the rays of light which cast back the reflection of the lamp. from being coated with shining and resplendent lava, it became living rock. the sides were sloping walls, which sometimes became quite vertical. we were now in what the geological professors call a state of transition, in the period of silurian stones, so called because this specimen of early formation is very common in england in the counties formerly inhabited by the celtic nation known as silures. "i can see clearly now," i cried; "the sediment from the waters which once covered the whole earth formed during the second period of its existence these schists and these calcareous rocks. we are turning our backs on the granite rocks, and are like people from hamburg who would go to lubeck by way of hanover." i might just as well have kept my observations to myself. my geological enthusiasm got the better, however, of my cooler judgment, and professor hardwigg heard my observations. "what is the matter now?" he said, in a tone of great gravity. "well," cried i, "do you not see these different layers of calcareous rocks and the first indication of slate strata?" "well; what then?" "we have arrived at that period of the world's existence when the first plants and the first animals made their appearance." "you think so?" "yes, look; examine and judge for yourself." i induced the professor with some difficulty to cast the light of his lamp on the sides of the long winding gallery. i expected some exclamation to burst from his lips. i was very much mistaken. the worthy professor never spoke a word. it was impossible to say whether he understood me or not. perhaps it was possible that in his pride--my uncle and a learned professor--he did not like to own that he was wrong in having chosen the eastern tunnel, or was he determined at any price to go to the end of it? it was quite evident we had left the region of lava, and that the road by which we were going could not take us back to the great crater of mount sneffels. as we went along i could not help ruminating on the whole question, and asked myself if i did not lay too great a stress on these sudden and peculiar modifications of the earth's crust. after all, i was very likely to be mistaken--and it was within the range of probability and possibility that we were not making our way through the strata of rocks which i believed i recognized piled on the lower layer of granitic formation. "at all events, if i am right," i thought to myself, "i must certainly find some remains of primitive plants, and it will be absolutely necessary to give way to such indubitable evidence. let us have a good search." i accordingly lost no opportunity of searching, and had not gone more than about a hundred yards, when the evidence i sought for cropped up in the most incontestable manner before my eyes. it was quite natural that i should expect to find these signs, for during the silurian period the seas contained no fewer than fifteen hundred different animal and vegetable species. my feet, so long accustomed to the hard and arid lava soil, suddenly found themselves treading on a kind of soft dust, the remains of plants and shells. upon the walls themselves i could clearly make out the outline, as plain as a sun picture, of the fucus and the lycopods. the worthy and excellent professor hardwigg could not of course make any mistake about the matter; but i believe he deliberately closed his eyes, and continued on his way with a firm and unalterable step. i began to think that he was carrying his obstinacy a great deal too far. i could no longer act with prudence or composure. i stooped on a sudden and picked up an almost perfect shell, which had undoubtedly belonged to some animal very much resembling some of the present day. having secured the prize, i followed in the wake of my uncle. "do you see this?" i said. "well, said the professor, with the most imperturbable tranquillity, "it is the shell of a crustaceous animal of the extinct order of the trilobites; nothing more, i assure you." "but," cried i, much troubled at his coolness, "do you draw no conclusion from it?" "well, if i may ask, what conclusion do you draw from it yourself?" "well, i thought--" "i know, my boy, what you would say, and you are right, perfectly and incontestably right. we have finally abandoned the crust of lava and the road by which the lava ascended. it is quite possible that i may have been mistaken, but i shall be unable to discover my error until i get to the end of this gallery." "you are quite right as far as that is concerned," i replied, "and i should highly approve of your decision, if we had not to fear the greatest of all dangers." "and what is that?" "want of water." "well, my dear henry, it can't be helped. we must put ourselves on rations." and on he went. chapter deeper and deeper--the coal mine in truth, we were compelled to put ourselves upon rations. our supply would certainly last not more than three days. i found this out about supper time. the worst part of the matter was that, in what is called the transition rocks, it was hardly to be expected we should meet with water! i had read of the horrors of thirst, and i knew that where we were, a brief trial of its sufferings would put an end to our adventures--and our lives! but it was utterly useless to discuss the matter with my uncle. he would have answered by some axiom from plato. during the whole of next day we proceeded on our journey through this interminable gallery, arch after arch, tunnel after tunnel. we journeyed without exchanging a word. we had become as mute and reticent as hans, our guide. the road had no longer an upward tendency; at all events, if it had, it was not to be made out very clearly. sometimes there could be no doubt that we were going downwards. but this inclination was scarcely to be distinguished, and was by no means reassuring to the professor, because the character of the strata was in no wise modified, and the transition character of the rocks became more and more marked. it was a glorious sight to see how the electric light brought out the sparkles in the walls of the calcareous rocks, and the old red sandstone. one might have fancied oneself in one of those deep cuttings in devonshire, which have given their name to this kind of soil. some magnificent specimens of marble projected from the sides of the gallery: some of an agate grey with white veins of variegated character, others of a yellow spotted color, with red veins; farther off might be seen samples of color in which cherry-tinted seams were to be found in all their brightest shades. the greater number of these marbles were stamped with the marks of primitive animals. since the previous evening, nature and creation had made considerable progress. instead of the rudimentary trilobites, i perceived the remains of a more perfect order. among others, the fish in which the eye of a geologist has been able to discover the first form of the reptile. the devonian seas were inhabited by a vast number of animals of this species, which were deposited in tens of thousands in the rocks of new formation. it was quite evident to me that we were ascending the scale of animal life of which man forms the summit. my excellent uncle, the professor, appeared not to take notice of these warnings. he was determined at any risk to proceed. he must have been in expectation of one of two things; either that a vertical well was about to open under his feet, and thus allow him to continue his descent, or that some insurmountable obstacle would compel us to stop and go back by the road we had so long traveled. but evening came again, and, to my horror, neither hope was doomed to be realized! on friday, after a night when i began to feel the gnawing agony of thirst, and when in consequence appetite decreased, our little band rose and once more followed the turnings and windings, the ascents and descents, of this interminable gallery. all were silent and gloomy. i could see that even my uncle had ventured too far. after about ten hours of further progress--a progress dull and monotonous to the last degree--i remarked that the reverberation, and reflection of our lamps upon the sides of the tunnel, had singularly diminished. the marble, the schist, the calcareous rocks, the red sandstone, had disappeared, leaving in their places a dark and gloomy wall, somber and without brightness. when we reached a remarkably narrow part of the tunnel, i leaned my left hand against the rock. when i took my hand away, and happened to glance at it, it was quite black. we had reached the coal strata of the central earth. "a coal mine!" i cried. "a coal mine without miners," responded my uncle, a little severely. "how can we tell?" "i can tell," replied my uncle, in a sharp and doctorial tone. "i am perfectly certain that this gallery through successive layers of coal was not cut by the hand of man. but whether it is the work of nature or not is of little concern to us. the hour for our evening meal has come--let us sup." hans, the guide, occupied himself in preparing food. i had come to that point when i could no longer eat. all i cared about were the few drops of water which fell to my share. what i suffered it is useless to record. the guide's gourd, not quite half full, was all that was left for us three! having finished their repast, my two companions laid themselves down upon their rugs, and found in sleep a remedy for their fatigue and sufferings. as for me, i could not sleep, i lay counting the hours until morning. the next morning, saturday, at six o'clock, we started again. twenty minutes later we suddenly came upon a vast excavation. from its mighty extent i saw at once that the hand of man could have had nothing to do with this coal mine; the vault above would have fallen in; as it was, it was only held together by some miracle of nature. this mighty natural cavern was about a hundred feet wide, by about a hundred and fifty high. the earth had evidently been cast apart by some violent subterranean commotion. the mass, giving way to some prodigious upheaving of nature, had split in two, leaving the vast gap into which we inhabitants of the earth had penetrated for the first time. the whole singular history of the coal period was written on those dark and gloomy walls. a geologist would have been able easily to follow the different phases of its formation. the seams of coal were separated by strata of sandstone, a compact clay, which appeared to be crushed down by the weight from above. at that period of the world which preceded the secondary epoch, the earth was covered by a coating of enormous and rich vegetation, due to the double action of tropical heat and perpetual humidity. a vast atmospheric cloud of vapor surrounded the earth on all sides, preventing the rays of the sun from ever reaching it. hence the conclusion that these intense heats did not arise from this new source of caloric. perhaps even the star of day was not quite ready for its brilliant work--to illumine a universe. climates did not as yet exist, and a level heat pervaded the whole surface of the globe--the same heat existing at the north pole as at the equator. whence did it come? from the interior of the earth? in spite of all the learned theories of professor hardwigg, a fierce and vehement fire certainly burned within the entrails of the great spheroid. its action was felt even to the very topmost crust of the earth; the plants then in existence, being deprived of the vivifying rays of the sun, had neither buds, nor flowers, nor odor, but their roots drew a strong and vigorous life from the burning earth of early days. there were but few of what may be called trees--only herbaceous plants, immense turfs, briers, mosses, rare families, which, however, in those days were counted by tens and tens of thousands. it is entirely to this exuberant vegetation that coal owes its origin. the crust of the vast globe still yielded under the influence of the seething, boiling mass, which was forever at work beneath. hence arose numerous fissures, and continual falling in of the upper earth. the dense mass of plants being beneath the waters, soon formed themselves into vast agglomerations. then came about the action of natural chemistry; in the depths of the ocean the vegetable mass at first became turf, then, thanks to the influence of gases and subterranean fermentation, they underwent the complete process of mineralization. in this manner, in early days, were formed those vast and prodigious layers of coal, which an ever--increasing consumption must utterly use up in about three centuries more, if people do not find some more economic light than gas, and some cheaper motive power than steam. all these reflections, the memories of my school studies, came to my mind while i gazed upon these mighty accumulations of coal, whose riches, however, are scarcely likely to be ever utilized. the working of these mines could only be carried out at an expense that would never yield a profit. the matter, however, is scarcely worthy consideration, when coal is scattered over the whole surface of the globe, within a few yards of the upper crust. as i looked at these untouched strata, therefore, i knew they would remain as long as the world lasts. while we still continued our journey, i alone forgot the length of the road, by giving myself up wholly to these geological considerations. the temperature continued to be very much the same as while we were traveling amid the lava and the schists. on the other hand my sense of smell was much affected by a very powerful odor. i immediately knew that the gallery was filled to overflowing with that dangerous gas the miners call fire damp, the explosion of which has caused such fearful and terrible accidents, making a hundred widows and hundreds of orphans in a single hour. happily, we were able to illumine our progress by means of the ruhmkorff apparatus. if we had been so rash and imprudent as to explore this gallery, torch in hand, a terrible explosion would have put an end to our travels, simply because no travelers would be left. our excursion through this wondrous coal mine in the very bowels of the earth lasted until evening. my uncle was scarcely able to conceal his impatience and dissatisfaction at the road continuing still to advance in a horizontal direction. the darkness, dense and opaque a few yards in advance and in the rear, rendered it impossible to make out what was the length of the gallery. for myself, i began to believe that it was simply interminable, and would go on in the same manner for months. suddenly, at six o'clock, we stood in front of a wall. to the right, to the left above, below, nowhere was there any passage. we had reached a spot where the rocks said in unmistakable accents--no thoroughfare. i stood stupefied. the guide simply folded his arms. my uncle was silent. "well, well, so much the better," cried my uncle, at last, "i now know what we are about. we are decidedly not upon the road followed by saknussemm. all we have to do is to go back. let us take one night's good rest, and before three days are over, i promise you we shall have regained the point where the galleries divided." "yes, we may, if our strength lasts as long," i cried, in a lamentable voice. "and why not?" "tomorrow, among us three, there will not be a drop of water. it is just gone." "and your courage with it," said my uncle, speaking in a severe tone. what could i say? i turned round on my side, and from sheer exhaustion fell into a heavy sleep disturbed by dreams of water! and i awoke unrefreshed. i would have bartered a diamond mine for a glass of pure spring water! chapter the wrong road! next day, our departure took place at a very early hour. there was no time for the least delay. according to my account, we had five days' hard work to get back to the place where the galleries divided. i can never tell all the sufferings we endured upon our return. my uncle bore them like a man who has been in the wrong--that is, with concentrated and suppressed anger; hans, with all the resignation of his pacific character; and i--i confess that i did nothing but complain, and despair. i had no heart for this bad fortune. but there was one consolation. defeat at the outset would probably upset the whole journey! as i had expected from the first, our supply of water gave completely out on our first day's march. our provision of liquids was reduced to our supply of schiedam; but this horrible--nay, i will say it--this infernal liquor burnt the throat, and i could not even bear the sight of it. i found the temperature to be stifling. i was paralyzed with fatigue. more than once i was about to fall insensible to the ground. the whole party then halted, and the worthy icelander and my excellent uncle did their best to console and comfort me. i could, however, plainly see that my uncle was contending painfully against the extreme fatigues of our journey, and the awful torture generated by the absence of water. at length a time came when i ceased to recollect anything--when all was one awfull hideous, fantastic dream! at last, on tuesday, the seventh of the month of july, after crawling on our hands and knees for many hours, more dead than alive, we reached the point of junction between the galleries. i lay like a log, an inert mass of human flesh on the arid lava soil. it was then ten in the morning. hans and my uncle, leaning against the wall, tried to nibble away at some pieces of biscuit, while deep groans and sighs escaped from my scorched and swollen lips. then i fell off into a kind of deep lethargy. presently i felt my uncle approach, and lift me up tenderly in his arms. "poor boy," i heard him say in a tone of deep commiseration. i was profoundly touched by these words, being by no means accustomed to signs of womanly weakness in the professor. i caught his trembling hands in mine and gave them a gentle pressure. he allowed me to do so without resistance, looking at me kindly all the time. his eyes were wet with tears. i then saw him take the gourd which he wore at his side. to my surprise, or rather to my stupefaction, he placed it to my lips. "drink, my boy," he said. was it possible my ears had not deceived me? was my uncle mad? i looked at him, with, i am sure, quite an idiotic expression. i could not believe him. i too much feared the counteraction of disappointment. "drink," he said again. had i heard aright? before, however, i could ask myself the question a second time, a mouthful of water cooled my parched lips and throat--one mouthful, but i do believe it brought me back to life. i thanked my uncle by clasping my hands. my heart was too full to speak. "yes," said he, "one mouthful of water, the very last--do you hear, my boy--the very last! i have taken care of it at the bottom of my bottle as the apple of my eye. twenty times, a hundred times, i have resisted the fearful desire to drink it. but--no--no, harry, i saved it for you." "my dear uncle," i exclaimed, and the big tears rolled down my hot and feverish cheeks. "yes, my poor boy, i knew that when you reached this place, this crossroad in the earth, you would fall down half dead, and i saved my last drop of water in order to restore you." "thanks," i cried; "thanks from my heart." as little as my thirst was really quenched, i had nevertheless partially recovered my strength. the contracted muscles of my throat relaxed--and the inflammation of my lips in some measure subsided. at all events, i was able to speak. "well," i said, "there can be no doubt now as to what we have to do. water has utterly failed us; our journey is therefore at an end. let us return." while i spoke thus, my uncle evidently avoided my face: he held down his head; his eyes were turned in every possible direction but the right one. "yes," i continued, getting excited by my own words, "we must go back to sneffels. may heaven give us strength to enable us once more to revisit the light of day. would that we now stood on the summit of the crater." "go back," said my uncle, speaking to himself, "and must it be so?" "go back--yes, and without losing a single moment," i vehemently cried. for some moments there was silence under that dark and gloomy vault. "so, my dear harry," said the professor in a very singular tone of voice, "those few drops of water have not sufficed to restore your energy and courage." "courage!" i cried. "i see that you are quite as downcast as before--and still give way to discouragement and despair." what, then, was the man made of, and what other projects were entering his fertile and audacious brain! "you are not discouraged, sir?" "what! give up just as we are on the verge of success?" he cried. "never, never shall it be said that professor hardwigg retreated." "then we must make up our minds to perish," i cried with a helpless sigh. "no, harry, my boy, certainly not. go, leave me, i am very far from desiring your death. take hans with you. <i>i will go on alone.</i>" "you ask us to leave you?" "leave me, i say. i have undertaken this dangerous and perilous adventure. i will carry it to the end--or i will never return to the surface of mother earth. go, harry--once more i say to you--go!" my uncle as he spoke was terribly excited. his voice, which before had been tender, almost womanly, became harsh and menacing. he appeared to be struggling with desperate energy against the impossible. i did not wish to abandon him at the bottom of that abyss, while, on the other hand, the instinct of preservation told me to fly. meanwhile, our guide was looking on with profound calmness and indifference. he appeared to be an unconcerned party, and yet he perfectly well knew what was going on between us. our gestures sufficiently indicated the different roads each wished to follow--and which each tried to influence the other to undertake. but hans appeared not to take the slightest interest in what was really a question of life and death for us all, but waited quite ready to obey the signal which should say go aloft, or to resume his desperate journey into the interior of the earth. how then i wished with all my heart and soul that i could make him understand my words. my representations, my sighs and groans, the earnest accents in which i should have spoken would have convinced that cold, hard nature. those fearful dangers and perils of which the stolid guide had no idea, i would have pointed them out to him--i would have, as it were, made him see and feel. between us, we might have convinced the obstinate professor. if the worst had come to the worst, we could have compelled him to return to the summit of sneffels. i quietly approached hans. i caught his hand in mine. he never moved a muscle. i indicated to him the road to the top of the crater. he remained motionless. my panting form, my haggard countenance, must have indicated the extent of my sufferings. the icelander gently shook his head and pointed to my uncle. "master," he said. the word is icelandic as well as english. "the master!" i cried, beside myself with fury--"madman! no--i tell you he is not the master of our lives; we must fly! we must drag him with us! do you hear me? do you understand me, i say?" i have already explained that i held hans by the arm. i tried to make him rise from his seat. i struggled with him and tried to force him away. my uncle now interposed. "my good henry, be calm," he said. "you will obtain nothing from my devoted follower; therefore, listen to what i have to say." i folded my arms, as well as i could, and looked my uncle full in the face. "this wretched want of water," he said, "is the sole obstacle to the success of my project. in the entire gallery, made of lava, schist, and coal, it is true we found not one liquid molecule. it is quite possible that we may be more fortunate in the western tunnel." my sole reply was to shake my head with an air of deep incredulity. "listen to me to the end," said the professor in his well-known lecturing voice. "while you lay yonder without life or motion, i undertook a reconnoitering journey into the conformation of this other gallery. i have discovered that it goes directly downwards into the bowels of the earth, and in a few hours will take us to the old granitic formation. in this we shall undoubtedly find innumerable springs. the nature of the rock makes this a mathematical certainty, and instinct agrees with logic to say that it is so. now, this is the serious proposition which i have to make to you. when christopher columbus asked of his men three days to discover the land of promise, his men ill, terrified, and hopeless, yet gave him three days--and the new world was discovered. now i, the christopher columbus of this subterranean region, only ask of you one more day. if, when that time is expired, i have not found the water of which we are in search, i swear to you, i will give up my mighty enterprise and return to the earth's surface." despite my irritation and despair, i knew how much it cost my uncle to make this proposition, and to hold such conciliatory language. under the circumstances, what could i do but yield? "well," i cried, "let it be as you wish, and may heaven reward your superhuman energy. but as, unless we discover water, our hours are numbered, let us lose no time, but go ahead." chapter the western gallery--a new route our descent was now resumed by means of the second gallery. hans took up his post in front as usual. we had not gone more than a hundred yards when the professor carefully examined the walls. "this is the primitive formation--we are on the right road--onwards is our hope!" when the whole earth got cool in the first hours of the world's morning, the diminution of the volume of the earth produced a state of dislocation in its upper crust, followed by ruptures, crevasses and fissures. the passage was a fissure of this kind, through which, ages ago, had flowed the eruptive granite. the thousand windings and turnings formed an inextricable labyrinth through the ancient soil. as we descended, successions of layers composing the primitive soil appeared with the utmost fidelity of detail. geological science considers this primitive soil as the base of the mineral crust, and it has recognized that it is composed of three different strata or layers, all resting on the immovable rock known as granite. no mineralogists had even found themselves placed in such a marvelous position to study nature in all her real and naked beauty. the sounding rod, a mere machine, could not bring to the surface of the earth the objects of value for the study of its internal structure, which we were about to see with our own eyes, to touch with our own hands. remember that i am writing this after the journey. across the streak of the rocks, colored by beautiful green tints, wound metallic threads of copper, of manganese, with traces of platinum and gold. i could not help gazing at these riches buried in the entrails of mother earth, and of which no man would have the enjoyment to the end of time! these treasures--mighty and inexhaustible, were buried in the morning of the earth's history, at such awful depths, that no crowbar or pickax will ever drag them from their tomb! the light of our ruhmkorff's coil, increased tenfold by the myriad of prismatic masses of rock, sent its jets of fire in every direction, and i could fancy myself traveling through a huge hollow diamond, the rays of which produced myriads of extraordinary effects. towards six o'clock, this festival of light began sensibly and visibly to decrease, and soon almost ceased. the sides of the gallery assumed a crystallized tint, with a somber hue; white mica began to commingle more freely with feldspar and quartz, to form what may be called the true rock--the stone which is hard above all, that supports, without being crushed, the four stories of the earth's soil. we were walled by an immense prison of granite! it was now eight o'clock, and still there was no sign of water. the sufferings i endured were horrible. my uncle now kept at the head of our little column. nothing could induce him to stop. i, meanwhile, had but one real thought. my ear was keenly on the watch to catch the sound of a spring. but no pleasant sound of falling water fell upon my listening ear. but at last the time came when my limbs refused to carry me longer. i contended heroically against the terrible tortures i endured, because i did not wish to compel my uncle to halt. to him i knew this would be the last fatal stroke. suddenly i felt a deadly faintness come over me. my eyes could no longer see; my knees shook. i gave one despairing cry--and fell! "help, help, i am dying!" my uncle turned and slowly retraced his steps. he looked at me with folded arms, and then allowed one sentence to escape, in hollow accents, from his lips: "all is over." the last thing i saw was a face fearfully distorted with pain and sorrow; and then my eyes closed. when i again opened them, i saw my companions lying near me, motionless, wrapped in their huge traveling rugs. were they asleep or dead? for myself, sleep was wholly out of the question. my fainting fit over, i was wakeful as the lark. i suffered too much for sleep to visit my eyelids--the more, that i thought myself sick unto death--dying. the last words spoken by my uncle seemed to be buzzing in my ears--all is over! and it was probable that he was right. in the state of prostration to which i was reduced, it was madness to think of ever again seeing the light of day. above were miles upon miles of the earth's crust. as i thought of it, i could fancy the whole weight resting on my shoulders. i was crushed, annihilated! and exhausted myself in vain attempts to turn in my granite bed. hours upon hours passed away. a profound and terrible silence reigned around us--a silence of the tomb. nothing could make itself heard through these gigantic walls of granite. the very thought was stupendous. presently, despite my apathy, despite the kind of deadly calm into which i was cast, something aroused me. it was a slight but peculiar noise. while i was watching intently, i observed that the tunnel was becoming dark. then gazing through the dim light that remained, i thought i saw the icelander taking his departure, lamp in hand. why had he acted thus? did hans the guide mean to abandon us? my uncle lay fast asleep--or dead. i tried to cry out, and arouse him. my voice, feebly issuing from my parched and fevered lips, found no echo in that fearful place. my throat was dry, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. the obscurity had by this time become intense, and at last even the faint sound of the guide's footsteps was lost in the blank distance. my soul seemed filled with anguish, and death appeared welcome, only let it come quickly. "hans is leaving us," i cried. "hans--hans, if you are a man, come back." these words were spoken to myself. they could not be heard aloud. nevertheless, after the first few moments of terror were over, i was ashamed of my suspicions against a man who hitherto had behaved so admirably. nothing in his conduct or character justified suspicion. moreover, a moment's reflection reassured me. his departure could not be a flight. instead of ascending the gallery, he was going deeper down into the gulf. had he had any bad design, his way would have been upwards. this reasoning calmed me a little and i began to hope! the good, and peaceful, and imperturbable hans would certainly not have arisen from his sleep without some serious and grave motive. was he bent on a voyage of discovery? during the deep, still silence of the night had he at last heard that sweet murmur about which we were all so anxious? chapter water, where is it? a bitter disappointment during a long, long, weary hour, there crossed my wildly delirious brain all sorts of reasons as to what could have aroused our quiet and faithful guide. the most absurd and ridiculous ideas passed through my head, each more impossible than the other. i believe i was either half or wholly mad. suddenly, however, there arose, as it were from the depths of the earth, a voice of comfort. it was the sound of footsteps! hans was returning. presently the uncertain light began to shine upon the walls of the passage, and then it came in view far down the sloping tunnel. at length hans himself appeared. he approached my uncle, placed his hand upon his shoulder, and gently awakened him. my uncle, as soon as he saw who it was, instantly arose. "well!" exclaimed the professor. "vatten," said the hunter. i did not know a single word of the danish language, and yet by a sort of mysterious instinct i understood what the guide had said. "water, water!" i cried, in a wild and frantic tone, clapping my hands, and gesticulating like a madman. "water!" murmured my uncle, in a voice of deep emotion and gratitude. "hvar?" ("where?") "nedat." ("below.") "where? below!" i understood every word. i had caught the hunter by the hands, and i shook them heartily, while he looked on with perfect calmness. the preparations for our departure did not take long, and we were soon making a rapid descent into the tunnel. an hour later we had advanced a thousand yards, and descended two thousand feet. at this moment i heard an accustomed and well-known sound running along the floors of the granite rock--a kind of dull and sullen roar, like that of a distant waterfall. during the first half hour of our advance, not finding the discovered spring, my feelings of intense suffering appeared to return. once more i began to lose all hope. my uncle, however, observing how downhearted i was again becoming, took up the conversation. "hans was right," he exclaimed enthusiastically; "that is the dull roaring of a torrent." "a torrent," i cried, delighted at even hearing the welcome words. "there's not the slightest doubt about it," he replied, "a subterranean river is flowing beside us." i made no reply, but hastened on, once more animated by hope. i began not even to feel the deep fatigue which hitherto had overpowered me. the very sound of this glorious murmuring water already refreshed me. we could hear it increasing in volume every moment. the torrent, which for a long time could be heard flowing over our heads, now ran distinctly along the left wall, roaring, rushing, spluttering, and still falling. several times i passed my hand across the rock hoping to find some trace of humidity--of the slightest percolation. alas! in vain. again a half hour passed in the same weary toil. again we advanced. it now became evident that the hunter, during his absence, had not been able to carry his researches any farther. guided by an instinct peculiar to the dwellers in mountain regions and water finders, he "smelt" the living spring through the rock. still he had not seen the precious liquid. he had neither quenched his own thirst, nor brought us one drop in his gourd. moreover, we soon made the disastrous discovery that, if our progress continued, we should soon be moving away from the torrent, the sound of which gradually diminished. we turned back. hans halted at the precise spot where the sound of the torrent appeared nearest. i could bear the suspense and suffering no longer, and seated myself against the wall, behind which i could hear the water seething and effervescing not two feet away. but a solid wall of granite still separated us from it! hans looked keenly at me, and, strange enough, for once i thought i saw a smile on his imperturbable face. he rose from a stone on which he had been seated, and took up the lamp. i could not help rising and following. he moved slowly along the firm and solid granite wall. i watched him with mingled curiosity and eagerness. presently he halted and placed his ear against the dry stone, moving slowly along and listening with the most extreme care and attention. i understood at once that he was searching for the exact spot where the torrent's roar was most plainly heard. this point he soon found in the lateral wall on the left side, about three feet above the level of the tunnel floor. i was in a state of intense excitement. i scarcely dared believe what the eider-duck hunter was about to do. it was, however, impossible in a moment more not to both understand and applaud, and even to smother him in my embraces, when i saw him raise the heavy crowbar and commence an attack upon the rock itself. "saved!" i cried. "yes," cried my uncle, even more excited and delighted than myself; "hans is quite right. oh, the worthy, excellent man! we should never have thought of such an idea." and nobody else, i think, would have done so. such a process, simple as it seemed, would most certainly not have entered our heads. nothing could be more dangerous than to begin to work with pickaxes in that particular part of the globe. supposing while he was at work a break-up were to take place, and supposing the torrent once having gained an inch were to take an ell, and come pouring bodily through the broken rock! not one of these dangers was chimerical. they were only too real. but at that moment no fear of falling in of the roof, or even of inundation was capable of stopping us. our thirst was so intense that to quench it we would have dug below the bed of old ocean itself. hans went quietly to work--a work which neither my uncle nor i would have undertaken at any price. our impatience was so great that if we had once begun with pickax and crowbar, the rock would soon have split into a hundred fragments. the guide, on the contrary, calm, ready, moderate, wore away the hard rock by little steady blows of his instrument, making no attempt at a larger hole than about six inches. as i stood, i heard, or i thought i heard, the roar of the torrent momentarily increasing in loudness, and at times i almost felt the pleasant sensation of water upon my parched lips. at the end of what appeared an age, hans had made a hole which enabled his crowbar to enter two feet into the solid rock. he had been at work exactly an hour. it appeared a dozen. i was getting wild with impatience. my uncle began to think of using more violent measures. i had the greatest difficulty in checking him. he had indeed just got hold of his crowbar when a loud and welcome hiss was heard. then a stream, or rather jet, of water burst through the wall and came out with such force as to hit the opposite side! hans, the guide, who was half upset by the shock, was scarcely able to keep down a cry of pain and grief. i understood his meaning when, plunging my hands into the sparkling jet, i myself gave a wild and frantic cry. the water was scalding hot! "boiling," i cried, in bitter disappointment. "well, never mind," said my uncle, "it will soon get cool." the tunnel began to be filled by clouds of vapor, while a small stream ran away into the interior of the earth. in a short time we had some sufficiently cool to drink. we swallowed it in huge mouthfuls. oh! what exalted delight--what rich and incomparable luxury! what was this water, whence did it come? to us what was that? the simple fact was--it was water; and, though still with a tingle of warmth about it, it brought back to the heart, that life which, but for it, must surely have faded away. i drank greedily, almost without tasting it. when, however, i had almost quenched my ravenous thirst, i made a discovery. "why, it is chalybeate water!" "a most excellent stomachic," replied my uncle, "and highly mineralized. here is a journey worth twenty to spa." "it's very good," i replied. "i should think so. water found six miles under ground. there is a peculiarly inky flavor about it, which is by no means disagreeable. hans may congratulate himself on having made a rare discovery. what do you say, nephew, according to the usual custom of travelers, to name the stream after him?" "good," said i. and the name of "hansbach" ("hans brook") was at once agreed upon. hans was not a bit more proud after hearing our determination than he was before. after having taken a very small modicum of the welcome refreshment, he had seated himself in a corner with his usual imperturbable gravity. "now," said i, "it is not worth while letting this water run to waste." "what is the use," replied my uncle, "the source from which this river rises is inexhaustible." "never mind," i continued, "let us fill our goatskin and gourds, and then try to stop the opening up." my advice, after some hesitation, was followed or attempted to be followed. hans picked up all the broken pieces of granite he had knocked out, and using some tow he happened to have about him, tried to shut up the fissure he had made in the wall. all he did was to scald his hands. the pressure was too great, and all our attempts were utter failures. "it is evident," i remarked, "that the upper surface of these springs is situated at a very great height above--as we may fairly infer from the great pressure of the jet." "that is by no means doubtful," replied my uncle, "if this column of water is about thirty-two thousand feet high, the atmospheric pressure must be something enormous. but a new idea has just struck me." "and what is that?" "why be at so much trouble to close this aperture?" "because--" i hesitated and stammered, having no real reason. "when our water bottles are empty, we are not at all sure that we shall be able to fill them," observed my uncle. "i think that is very probable." "well, then, let this water run. it will, of course, naturally follow in our track, and will serve to guide and refresh us." "i think the idea a good one," i cried in reply, "and with this rivulet as a companion, there is no further reason why we should not succeed in our marvelous project." "ah, my boy," said the professor, laughing, "after all, you are coming round." "more than that, i am now confident of ultimate success." "one moment, nephew mine. let us begin by taking some hours of repose." i had utterly forgotten that it was night. the chronometer, however, informed me of the fact. soon we were sufficiently restored and refreshed, and had all fallen into a profound sleep. chapter under the ocean by the next day we had nearly forgotten our past sufferings. the first sensation i experienced was surprise at not being thirsty, and i actually asked myself the reason. the running stream, which flowed in rippling wavelets at my feet, was the satisfactory reply. we breakfasted with a good appetite, and then drank our fill of the excellent water. i felt myself quite a new man, ready to go anywhere my uncle chose to lead. i began to think. why should not a man as seriously convinced as my uncle, succeed, with so excellent a guide as worthy hans, and so devoted a nephew as myself? these were the brilliant ideas which now invaded my brain. had the proposition now been made to go back to the summit of mount sneffels, i should have declined the offer in a most indignant manner. but fortunately there was no question of going up. we were about to descend farther into the interior of the earth. "let us be moving," i cried, awakening the echoes of the old world. we resumed our march on thursday at eight o'clock in the morning. the great granite tunnel, as it went round by sinuous and winding ways, presented every now and then sharp turns, and in fact all the appearance of a labyrinth. its direction, however, was in general towards the southwest. my uncle made several pauses in order to consult his compass. the gallery now began to trend downwards in a horizontal direction, with about two inches of fall in every furlong. the murmuring stream flowed quietly at our feet. i could not but compare it to some familiar spirit, guiding us through the earth, and i dabbled my fingers in its tepid water, which sang like a naiad as we progressed. my good humor began to assume a mythological character. as for my uncle he began to complain of the horizontal character of the road. his route, he found, began to be indefinitely prolonged, instead of "sliding down the celestial ray," according to his expression. but we had no choice; and as long as our road led towards the centre--however little progress we made, there was no reason to complain. moreover, from time to time the slopes were much greater, the naiad sang more loudly, and we began to dip downwards in earnest. as yet, however, i felt no painful sensation. i had not got over the excitement of the discovery of water. that day and the next we did a considerable amount of horizontal, and relatively very little vertical, traveling. on friday evening, the tenth of july, according to our estimation, we ought to have been thirty leagues to the southeast of reykjavik, and about two leagues and a half deep. we now received a rather startling surprise. under our feet there opened a horrible well. my uncle was so delighted that he actually clapped his hands--as he saw how steep and sharp was the descent. "ah, ah!" he cried, in rapturous delight; "this will take us a long way. look at the projections of the rock. hah!" he exclaimed, "it's a fearful staircase!" hans, however, who in all our troubles had never given up the ropes, took care so to dispose of them as to prevent any accidents. our descent then began. i dare not call it a perilous descent, for i was already too familiar with that sort of work to look upon it as anything but a very ordinary affair. this well was a kind of narrow opening in the massive granite of the kind known as a fissure. the contraction of the terrestrial scaffolding, when it suddenly cooled, had been evidently the cause. if it had ever served in former times as a kind of funnel through which passed the eruptive masses vomited by sneffels, i was at a loss to explain how it had left no mark. we were, in fact, descending a spiral, something like those winding staircases in use in modern houses. we were compelled every quarter of an hour or thereabouts to sit down in order to rest our legs. our calves ached. we then seated ourselves on some projecting rock with our legs hanging over, and gossiped while we ate a mouthful--drinking still from the pleasantly warm running stream which had not deserted us. it is scarcely necessary to say that in this curiously shaped fissure the hansbach had become a cascade to the detriment of its size. it was still, however, sufficient, and more, for our wants. besides we knew that, as soon as the declivity ceased to be so abrupt, the stream must resume its peaceful course. at this moment it reminded me of my uncle, his impatience and rage, while when it flowed more peacefully, i pictured to myself the placidity of the icelandic guide. during the whole of two days, the sixth and seventh of july, we followed the extraordinary spiral staircase of the fissure, penetrating two leagues farther into the crust of the earth, which put us five leagues below the level of the sea. on the eighth, however, at twelve o'clock in the day, the fissure suddenly assumed a much more gentle slope still trending in a southeast direction. the road now became comparatively easy, and at the same time dreadfully monotonous. it would have been difficult for matters to have turned out otherwise. our peculiar journey had no chance of being diversified by landscape and scenery. at all events, such was my idea. at length, on wednesday the fifteenth, we were actually seven leagues (twenty-one miles) below the surface of the earth, and fifty leagues distant from the mountain of sneffels. though, if the truth be told, we were very tired, our health had resisted all suffering, and was in a most satisfactory state. our traveler's box of medicaments had not even been opened. my uncle was careful to note every hour the indications of the compass, of the manometer, and of the thermometer, all which he afterwards published in his elaborate philosophical and scientific account of our remarkable voyage. he was therefore able to give an exact relation of the situation. when, therefore, he informed me that we were fifty leagues in a horizontal direction distant from our starting point, i could not suppress a loud exclamation. "what is the matter now?" cried my uncle. "nothing very important, only an idea has entered my head," was my reply. "well, out with it, my boy." "it is my opinion that if your calculations are correct we are no longer under iceland." "do you think so?" "we can very easily find out," i replied, pulling out a map and compasses. "you see," i said, after careful measurement, "that i am not mistaken. we are far beyond cape portland; and those fifty leagues to the southeast will take us into the open sea." "under the open sea," cried my uncle, rubbing his hands with a delighted air. "yes," i cried, "no doubt old ocean flows over our heads!" "well, my dear boy, what can be more natural! do you not know that in the neighborhood of newcastle there are coal mines which have been worked far out under the sea?" now my worthy uncle, the professor, no doubt regarded this discovery as a very simple fact, but to me the idea was by no means a pleasant one. and yet when one came to think the matter over seriously, what mattered it whether the plains and mountains of iceland were suspended over our devoted heads, or the mighty billows of the atlantic ocean? the whole question rested on the solidity of the granite roof above us. however, i soon got used to the ideal for the passage now level, now running down, and still always to the southeast, kept going deeper and deeper into the profound abysses of mother earth. three days later, on the eighteenth day of july, on a saturday, we reached a kind of vast grotto. my uncle here paid hans his usual rix-dollars, and it was decided that the next day should be a day of rest. chapter sunday below ground i awoke on sunday morning without any sense of hurry and bustle attendant on an immediate departure. though the day to be devoted to repose and reflection was spent under such strange circumstances, and in so wonderful a place, the idea was a pleasant one. besides, we all began to get used to this kind of existence. i had almost ceased to think of the sun, of the moon, of the stars, of the trees, houses, and towns; in fact, about any terrestrial necessities. in our peculiar position we were far above such reflections. the grotto was a vast and magnificent hall. along its granitic soil the stream flowed placidly and pleasantly. so great a distance was it now from its fiery source that its water was scarcely lukewarm, and could be drunk without delay or difficulty. after a frugal breakfast, the professor made up his mind to devote some hours to putting his notes and calculations in order. "in the first place," he said, "i have a good many to verify and prove, in order that we may know our exact position. i wish to be able on our return to the upper regions to make a map of our journey, a kind of vertical section of the globe, which will be, as it were, the profile of the expedition." "that would indeed be a curious work, uncle; but can you make your observations with anything like certainty and precision?" "i can. i have never on any occasion failed to note with great care the angles and slopes. i am certain as to having made no mistake. take the compass and examine how she points." i looked at the instrument with care. "east one quarter southeast." "very good," resumed the professor, noting the observation, and going through some rapid calculations. "i make out that we have journeyed two hundred and fifty miles from the point of our departure." "then the mighty waves of the atlantic are rolling over our heads?" "certainly." "and at this very moment it is possible that fierce tempests are raging above, and that men and ships are battling against the angry blasts just over our heads?" "it is quite within the range of possibility," rejoined my uncle, smiling. "and that whales are playing in shoals, thrashing the bottom of the sea, the roof of our adamantine prison?" "be quite at rest on that point; there is no danger of their breaking through. but to return to our calculations. we are to the southeast, two hundred and fifty miles from the base of sneffels, and, according to my preceding notes, i think we have gone sixteen leagues in a downward direction." "sixteen leagues--fifty miles!" i cried. "i am sure of it." "but that is the extreme limit allowed by science for the thickness of the earth's crust," i replied, referring to my geological studies. "i do not contravene that assertion," was his quiet answer. "and at this stage of our journey, according to all known laws on the increase of heat, there should be here a temperature of <i>fifteen hundred degrees of reaumur</i>." "there should be--you say, my boy." "in which case this granite would not exist, but be in a state of fusion." "but you perceive, my boy, that it is not so, and that facts, as usual, are very stubborn things, overruling all theories." "i am forced to yield to the evidence of my senses, but i am nevertheless very much surprised." "what heat does the thermometer really indicate?" continued the philosopher. "twenty-seven six-tenths." "so that science is wrong by fourteen hundred and seventy-four degrees and four-tenths. according to which, it is demonstrated that the proportional increase in temperature is an exploded error. humphry davy here shines forth in all his glory. he is right, and i have acted wisely to believe him. have you any answer to make to this statement?" had i chosen to have spoken, i might have said a great deal. i in no way admitted the theory of humphry davy--i still held out for the theory of proportional increase of heat, though i did not feel it. i was far more willing to allow that this chimney of an extinct volcano was covered by lava of a kind refractory to heat--in fact a bad conductor--which did not allow the great increase of temperature to percolate through its sides. the hot water jet supported my view of the matter. but without entering on a long and useless discussion, or seeking for new arguments to controvert my uncle, i contented myself with taking up facts as they were. "well, sir, i take for granted that all your calculations are correct, but allow me to draw from them a rigorous and definite conclusion." "go on, my boy--have your say," cried my uncle goodhumoredly. "at the place where we now are, under the latitude of iceland, the terrestrial depth is about fifteen hundred and eighty-three leagues." "fifteen hundred eighty-three and a quarter." "well, suppose we say sixteen hundred in round numbers. now, out of a voyage of sixteen hundred leagues we have completed sixteen." "as you say, what then?" "at the expense of a diagonal journey of no less than eighty-five leagues." "exactly." "we have been twenty days about it." "exactly twenty days." "now sixteen is the hundredth part of our contemplated expedition. if we go on in this way we shall be two thousand days, that is about five years and a half, going down." the professor folded his arms, listened, but did not speak. "without counting that if a vertical descent of sixteen leagues costs us a horizontal of eighty-five, we shall have to go about eight thousand leagues to the southeast, and we must therefore come out somewhere in the circumference long before we can hope to reach the centre." "bother your calculations," cried my uncle in one of his old rages. "on what basis do they rest? how do you know that this passage does not take us direct to the end we require? moreover, i have in my favor, fortunately, a precedent. what i have undertaken to do, another has done, and he having succeeded, why should i not be equally successful?" "i hope, indeed, you will, but still, i suppose i may be allowed to--" "you are allowed to hold your tongue," cried professor hardwigg, "when you talk so unreasonably as this." i saw at once that the old doctorial professor was still alive in my uncle--and fearful to rouse his angry passions, i dropped the unpleasant subject. "now, then," he explained, "consult the manometer. what does that indicate?" "a considerable amount of pressure." "very good. you see, then, that by descending slowly, and by gradually accustoming ourselves to the density of this lower atmosphere, we shall not suffer." "well, i suppose not, except it may be a certain amount of pain in the ears," was my rather grim reply. "that, my dear boy, is nothing, and you will easily get rid of that source of discomfort by bringing the exterior air in communication with the air contained in your lungs." "perfectly," said i, for i had quite made up my mind in no wise to contradict my uncle. "i should fancy almost that i should experience a certain amount of satisfaction in making a plunge into this dense atmosphere. have you taken note of how wonderfully sound is propagated?" "of course i have. there can be no doubt that a journey into the interior of the earth would be an excellent cure for deafness." "but then, uncle," i ventured mildly to observe, "this density will continue to increase." "yes--according to a law which, however, is scarcely defined. it is true that the intensity of weight will diminish just in proportion to the depth to which we go. you know very well that it is on the surface of the earth that its action is most powerfully felt, while on the contrary, in the very centre of the earth bodies cease to have any weight at all." "i know that is the case, but as we progress will not the atmosphere finally assume the density of water?" "i know it; when placed under the pressure of seven hundred and ten atmospheres," cried my uncle with imperturbable gravity. "and when we are still lower down?" i asked with natural anxiety. "well, lower down, the density will become even greater." "then how shall we be able to make our way through this atmospheric fog?" "well, my worthy nephew, we must ballast ourselves by filling our pockets with stones," said professor hardwigg. "faith, uncle, you have an answer for everything," was my only reply. i began to feel that it was unwise of me to go any farther into the wide field of hypotheses for i should certainly have revived some difficulty, or rather impossibility, that would have enraged the professor. it was evident, nevertheless, that the air under a pressure which might be multiplied by thousands of atmospheres, would end by becoming perfectly solid, and that then admitting our bodies resisted the pressure, we should have to stop, in spite of all the reasonings in the world. facts overcome all arguments. but i thought it best not to urge this argument. my uncle would simply have quoted the example of saknussemm. supposing the learned icelander's journey ever really to have taken place--there was one simple answer to be made: in the sixteenth century neither the barometer nor the manometer had been invented--how, then, could saknussemm have been able to discover when he did reach the centre of the earth? this unanswerable and learned objection i, however, kept to myself and, bracing up my courage, awaited the course of events--little aware of how adventurous yet were to be the incidents of our remarkable journey. the rest of this day of leisure and repose was spent in calculation and conversation. i made it a point to agree with the professor in everything; but i envied the perfect indifference of hans, who, without taking any such trouble about the cause and effect, went blindly onwards wherever destiny chose to lead him. chapter alone it must in all truth be confessed, things as yet had gone on well, and i should have acted in bad taste to have complained. if the true medium of our difficulties did not increase, it was within the range of possibility that we might ultimately reach the end of our journey. then what glory would be ours! i began in the newly aroused ardor of my soul to speak enthusiastically to the professor. well, was i serious? the whole state in which we existed was a mystery--and it was impossible to know whether or not i was in earnest. for several days after our memorable halt, the slopes became more rapid--some were even of a most frightful character--almost vertical, so that we were forever going down into the solid interior mass. during some days, we actually descended a league and a half, even two leagues towards the centre of the earth. the descents were sufficiently perilous, and while we were engaged in them we learned fully to appreciate the marvelous coolness of our guide, hans. without him we should have been wholly lost. the grave and impassible icelander devoted himself to us with the most incomprehensible sang-froid and ease; and, thanks to him, many a dangerous pass was got over, where, but for him, we should inevitably have stuck fast. his silence increased every day. i think that we began to be influenced by this peculiar trait in his character. it is certain that the inanimate objects by which you are surrounded have a direct action on the brain. it must be that a man who shuts himself up between four walls must lose the faculty of associating ideas and words. how many persons condemned to the horrors of solitary confinement have gone mad--simply because the thinking faculties have lain dormant! during the two weeks that followed our last interesting conversation, there occurred nothing worthy of being especially recorded. i have, while writing these memoirs, taxed my memory in vain for one incident of travel during this particular period. but the next event to be related is terrible indeed. its very memory, even now, makes my soul shudder, and my blood run cold. it was on the seventh of august. our constant and successive descents had taken us quite thirty leagues into the interior of the earth, that is to say that there were above us thirty leagues, nearly a hundred miles, of rocks, and oceans, and continents, and towns, to say nothing of living inhabitants. we were in a southeasterly direction, about two hundred leagues from iceland. on that memorable day the tunnel had begun to assume an almost horizontal course. i was on this occasion walking on in front. my uncle had charge of one of the ruhmkorff coils, i had possession of the other. by means of its light i was busy examining the different layers of granite. i was completely absorbed in my work. suddenly halting and turning round, i found that i was alone! "well," thought i to myself, "i have certainly been walking too fast--or else hans and my uncle have stopped to rest. the best thing i can do is to go back and find them. luckily, there is very little ascent to tire me." i accordingly retraced my steps and, while doing so, walked for at least a quarter of an hour. rather uneasy, i paused and looked eagerly around. not a living soul. i called aloud. no reply. my voice was lost amid the myriad cavernous echoes it aroused! i began for the first time to feel seriously uneasy. a cold shiver shook my whole body, and perspiration, chill and terrible, burst upon my skin. "i must be calm," i said, speaking aloud, as boys whistle to drive away fear. "there can be no doubt that i shall find my companions. there cannot be two roads. it is certain that i was considerably ahead; all i have to do is to go back." having come to this determination i ascended the tunnel for at least half an hour, unable to decide if i had ever seen certain landmarks before. every now and then i paused to discover if any loud appeal was made to me, well knowing that in that dense and intensified atmosphere i should hear it a long way off. but no. the most extraordinary silence reigned in this immense gallery. only the echoes of my own footsteps could be heard. at last i stopped. i could scarcely realize the fact of my isolation. i was quite willing to think that i had made a mistake, but not that i was lost. if i had made a mistake, i might find my way; if lost--i shuddered to think of it. "come, come," said i to myself, "since there is only one road, and they must come by it, we shall at last meet. all i have to do is still to go upwards. perhaps, however, not seeing me, and forgetting i was ahead, they may have gone back in search of me. still, even in this case, if i make haste, i shall get up to them. there can be no doubt about the matter." but as i spoke these last words aloud, it would have been quite clear to any listener--had there been one--that i was by no means convinced of the fact. moreover in order to associate together these simple ideas and to reunite them under the form of reasoning, required some time. i could not all at once bring my brain to think. then another dread doubt fell upon my soul. after all, was i ahead? of course i was. hans was no doubt following behind preceded by my uncle. i perfectly recollected his having stopped for a moment to strap his baggage on his shoulder. i now remembered this trifling detail. it was, i believe, just at that very moment that i had determined to continue my route. "again," thought i, reasoning as calmly as was possible, "there is another sure means of not losing my way, a thread to guide me through the labyrinthine subterraneous retreat--one which i had forgotten--my faithful river." this course of reasoning roused my drooping spirits, and i resolved to resume my journey without further delay. no time was to be lost. it was at this moment that i had reason to bless the thoughtfulness of my uncle, when he refused to allow the eider hunter to close the orifices of the hot spring--that small fissure in the great mass of granite. this beneficent spring after having saved us from thirst during so many days would now enable me to regain the right road. having come to this mental decision, i made up my mind, before i started upwards, that ablution would certainly do me a great deal of good. i stopped to plunge my hands and forehead in the pleasant water of the hansbach stream, blessing its presence as a certain consolation. conceive my horror and stupefaction!--i was treading a hard, dusty, shingly road of granite. the stream on which i reckoned had wholly disappeared! chapter lost! no words in any human language can depict my utter despair. i was literally buried alive; with no other expectation before me but to die in all the slow horrible torture of hunger and thirst. mechanically i crawled about, feeling the dry and arid rock. never to my fancy had i ever felt anything so dry. but, i frantically asked myself, how had i lost the course of the flowing stream? there could be no doubt it had ceased to flow in the gallery in which i now was. now i began to understand the cause of the strange silence which prevailed when last i tried if any appeal from my companions might perchance reach my ear. it so happened that when i first took an imprudent step in the wrong direction, i did not perceive the absence of the all-important stream. it was now quite evident that when we halted, another tunnel must have received the waters of the little torrent, and that i had unconsciously entered a different gallery. to what unknown depths had my companions gone? where was i? how to get back! clue or landmark there was absolutely none! my feet left no signs on the granite and shingle. my brain throbbed with agony as i tried to discover the solution of this terrible problem. my situation, after all sophistry and reflection, had finally to be summed up in three awful words-- <i>lost!</i> lost!! lost!!! lost at a depth which, to my finite understanding, appeared to be immeasurable. these thirty leagues of the crust of the earth weighed upon my shoulders like the globe on the shoulders of atlas. i felt myself crushed by the awful weight. it was indeed a position to drive the sanest man to madness! i tried to bring my thoughts back to the things of the world so long forgotten. it was with the greatest difficulty that i succeeded in doing so. hamburg, the house on the konigstrasse, my dear cousin gretchen--all that world which had before vanished like a shadow floated before my now vivid imagination. there they were before me, but how unreal. under the influence of a terrible hallucination i saw all the incidents of our journey pass before me like the scenes of a panorama. the ship and its inmates, iceland, m. fridriksson, and the great summit of mount sneffels! i said to myself that, if in my position i retained the most faint and shadowy outline of a hope, it would be a sure sign of approaching delirium. it were better to give way wholly to despair! in fact, did i but reason with calmness and philosophy, what human power was there in existence able to take me back to the surface of the earth, and ready, too, to split asunder, to rend in twain those huge and mighty vaults which stand above my head? who could enable me to find my road--and regain my companions? insensate folly and madness to entertain even a shadow of hope! "oh, uncle!" was my despairing cry. this was the only word of reproach which came to my lips; for i thoroughly understood how deeply and sorrowfully the worthy professor would regret my loss, and how in his turn he would patiently seek for me. when i at last began to resign myself to the fact that no further aid was to be expected from man, and knowing that i was utterly powerless to do anything for my own salvation, i kneeled with earnest fervor and asked assistance from heaven. the remembrance of my innocent childhood, the memory of my mother, known only in my infancy, came welling forth from my heart. i had recourse to prayer. and little as i had a right to be remembered by him whom i had forgotten in the hour of prosperity, and whom i so tardily invoked, i prayed earnestly and sincerely. this renewal of my youthful faith brought about a much greater amount of calm, and i was enabled to concentrate all my strength and intelligence on the terrible realities of my unprecedented situation. i had about me that which i had at first wholly forgotten--three days' provisions. moreover, my water bottle was quite full. nevertheless, the one thing which it was impossible to do was to remain alone. try to find my companions i must, at any price. but which course should i take? should i go upwards, or again descend? doubtless it was right to retrace my steps in an upward direction. by doing this with care and coolness, i must reach the point where i had turned away from the rippling stream. i must find the fatal bifurcation or fork. once at this spot, once the river at my feet, i could, at all events, regain the awful crater of mount sneffels. why had i not thought of this before? this, at last, was a reasonable hope of safety. the most important thing, then, to be done was to discover the bed of the hansbach. after a slight meal and a draught of water, i rose like a giant refreshed. leaning heavily on my pole, i began the ascent of the gallery. the slope was very rapid and rather difficult. but i advanced hopefully and carefully, like a man who at last is making his way out of a forest, and knows there is only one road to follow. during one whole hour nothing happened to check my progress. as i advanced, i tried to recollect the shape of the tunnel--to recall to my memory certain projections of rocks--to persuade myself that i had followed certain winding routes before. but no one particular sign could i bring to mind, and i was soon forced to allow that this gallery would never take me back to the point at which i had separated myself from my companions. it was absolutely without issue--a mere blind alley in the earth. the moment at length came when, facing the solid rock, i knew my fate, and fell inanimate on the arid floor! to describe the horrible state of despair and fear into which i then fell would now be vain and impossible. my last hope, the courage which had sustained me, drooped before the sight of this pitiless granite rock! lost in a vast labyrinth, the sinuosities of which spread in every direction, without guide, clue or compass, i knew it was a vain and useless task to attempt flight. all that remained to me was to lie down and die. to lie down and die the most cruel and horrible of deaths! in my state of mind, the idea came into my head that one day perhaps, when my fossil bones were found, their discovery so far below the level of the earth might give rise to solemn and interesting scientific discussions. i tried to cry aloud, but hoarse, hollow, and inarticulate sounds alone could make themselves heard through my parched lips. i literally panted for breath. in the midst of all these horrible sources of anguish and despair, a new horror took possession of my soul. my lamp, by falling down, had got out of order. i had no means of repairing it. its light was already becoming paler and paler, and soon would expire. with a strange sense of resignation and despair, i watched the luminous current in the coil getting less and less. a procession of shadows moved flashing along the granite wall. i scarcely dared to lower my eyelids, fearing to lose the last spark of this fugitive light. every instant it seemed to me that it was about to vanish and to leave me forever--in utter darkness! at last, one final trembling flame remained in the lamp; i followed it with all my power of vision; i gasped for breath; i concentrated upon it all the power of my soul, as upon the last scintillation of light i was ever destined to see: and then i was to be lost forever in cimmerian and tenebrous shades. a wild and plaintive cry escaped my lips. on earth during the most profound and comparatively complete darkness, light never allows a complete destruction and extinction of its power. light is so diffuse, so subtle, that it permeates everywhere, and whatever little may remain, the retina of the eye will succeed in finding it. in this place nothing--the absolute obscurity made me blind in every sense. my head was now wholly lost. i raised my arms, trying the effects of the feeling in getting against the cold stone wall. it was painful in the extreme. madness must have taken possession of me. i knew not what i did. i began to run, to fly, rushing at haphazard in this inextricable labyrinth, always going downwards, running wildly underneath the terrestrial crust, like an inhabitant of the subterranean furnaces, screaming, roaring, howling, until bruised by the pointed rocks, falling and picking myself up all covered with blood, seeking madly to drink the blood which dripped from my torn features, mad because this blood only trickled over my face, and watching always for this horrid wall which ever presented to me the fearful obstacle against which i could not dash my head. where was i going? it was impossible to say. i was perfectly ignorant of the matter. several hours passed in this way. after a long time, having utterly exhausted my strength, i fell a heavy inert mass along the side of the tunnel, and lost consciousness. chapter the whispering gallery when at last i came back to a sense of life and being, my face was wet, but wet, as i soon knew, with tears. how long this state of insensibility lasted, it is quite impossible for me now to say. i had no means left to me of taking any account of time. never since the creation of the world had such a solitude as mine existed. i was completely abandoned. after my fall i lost much blood. i felt myself flooded with the life-giving liquid. my first sensation was perhaps a natural one. why was i not dead? because i was alive, there was something left to do. i tried to make up my mind to think no longer. as far as i was able, i drove away all ideas, and utterly overcome by pain and grief, i crouched against the granite wall. i just commenced to feel the fainting coming on again, and the sensation that this was the last struggle before complete annihilation--when, on a sudden, a violent uproar reached my ears. it had some resemblance to the prolonged rumbling voice of thunder, and i clearly distinguished sonorous voices, lost one after the other, in the distant depths of the gulf. whence came this noise? naturally, it was to be supposed from new phenomena which were taking place in the bosom of the solid mass of mother earth! the explosion of some gaseous vapors, or the fall of some solid, of the granitic or other rock. again i listened with deep attention. i was extremely anxious to hear if this strange and inexplicable sound was likely to be renewed! a whole quarter of an hour elapsed in painful expectation. deep and solemn silence reigned in the tunnel. so still that i could hear the beatings of my own heart! i waited, waited with a strange kind of hopefulness. suddenly my ear, which leaned accidentally against the wall, appeared to catch, as it were, the faintest echo of a sound. i thought that i heard vague, incoherent and distant voices. i quivered all over with excitement and hope! "it must be hallucination," i cried. "it cannot be! it is not true!" but no! by listening more attentively, i really did convince myself that what i heard was truly the sound of human voices. to make any meaning out of the sound, however, was beyond my power. i was too weak even to hear distinctly. still it was a positive fact that someone was speaking. of that i was quite certain. there was a moment of fear. a dread fell upon my soul that it might be my own words brought back to me by a distant echo. perhaps without knowing it, i might have been crying aloud. i resolutely closed my lips, and once more placed my ear to the huge granite wall. yes, for certain. it was in truth the sound of human voices. i now by the exercise of great determination dragged myself along the sides of the cavern, until i reached a point where i could hear more distinctly. but though i could detect the sound, i could only make out uncertain, strange, and incomprehensible words. they reached my ear as if they had been spoken in a low tone--murmured, as it were, afar off. at last, i made out the word forlorad repeated several times in a tone betokening great mental anguish and sorrow. what could this word mean, and who was speaking it? it must be either my uncle or the guide hans! if, therefore, i could hear them, they must surely be able to hear me. "help," i cried at the top of my voice; "help, i am dying!" i then listened with scarcely a breath; i panted for the slightest sound in the darkness--a cry, a sigh, a question! but silence reigned supreme. no answer came! in this way some minutes passed. a whole flood of ideas flashed through my mind. i began to fear that my voice, weakened by sickness and suffering, could not reach my companions who were in search of me. "it must be they," i cried; "who else could by any possibility be buried a hundred miles below the level of the earth?" the mere supposition was preposterous. i began, therefore, to listen again with the most breathless attention. as i moved my ears along the side of the place i was in, i found a mathematical point as it were, where the voices appeared to attain their maximum of intensity. the word forlorad again distinctly reached my ear. then came again that rolling noise like thunder which had awakened me out of torpor. "i begin to understand," i said to myself after some little time devoted to reflection; "it is not through the solid mass that the sound reaches my ears. the walls of my cavernous retreat are of solid granite, and the most fearful explosion would not make uproar enough to penetrate them. the sound must come along the gallery itself. the place i was in must possess some peculiar acoustic properties of its own." again i listened; and this time--yes, this time--i heard my name distinctly pronounced: cast as it were into space. it was my uncle, the professor, who was speaking. he was in conversation with the guide, and the word which had so often reached my ears, forlorad, was a danish expression. then i understood it all. in order to make myself heard, i too must speak as it were along the side of the gallery, which would carry the sound of my voice just as the wire carries the electric fluid from point to point. but there was no time to lose. if my companions were only to remove a few feet from where they stood, the acoustic effect would be over, my whispering gallery would be destroyed. i again therefore crawled towards the wall, and said as clearly and distinctly as i could: "uncle hardwigg." i then awaited a reply. sound does not possess the property of traveling with such extreme rapidity. besides the density of the air at that depth from light and motion was very far from adding to the rapidity of circulation. several seconds elapsed, which to my excited imagination, appeared ages; and these words reached my eager ears, and moved my wildly beating heart: "harry, my boy, is that you?" a short delay between question and answer. "yes--yes." .......... "where are you?" .......... "lost!" .......... "and your lamp?" .......... "out." .......... "but the guiding stream?" .......... "is lost!" .......... "keep your courage, harry. we will do our best." .......... "one moment, my uncle," i cried; "i have no longer strength to answer your questions. but--for heaven's sake--do you--continue--to speak--to me!" absolute silence, i felt, would be annihilation. "keep up your courage," said my uncle. "as you are so weak, do not speak. we have been searching for you in all directions, both by going upwards and downwards in the gallery. my dear boy, i had begun to give over all hope--and you can never know what bitter tears of sorrow and regret i have shed. at last, supposing you to be still on the road beside the hansbach, we again descended, firing off guns as signals. now, however, that we have found you, and that our voices reach each other, it may be a long time before we actually meet. we are conversing by means of some extraordinary acoustic arrangement of the labyrinth. but do not despair, my dear boy. it is something gained even to hear each other." while he was speaking, my brain was at work reflecting. a certain undefined hope, vague and shapeless as yet, made my heart beat wildly. in the first place, it was absolutely necessary for me to know one thing. i once more, therefore, leaned my head against the wall, which i almost touched with my lips, and again spoke. "uncle." .......... "my boy?" was his answer after a few moments. .......... "it is of the utmost consequence that we should know how far we are asunder." .......... "that is not difficult." .......... "you have your chronometer at hand?" i asked. .......... "certainly." .......... "well, take it into your hand. pronounce my name, noting exactly the second at which you speak. i will reply as soon as i hear your words--and you will then note exactly the moment at which my reply reaches you." .......... "very good; and the mean time between my question and your answer will be the time occupied by my voice in reaching you." .......... "that is exactly what i mean, uncle," was my eager reply. .......... "are you ready?" .......... "yes." .......... "well, make ready, i am about to pronounce your name," said the professor. i applied my ear close to the sides of the cavernous gallery, and as soon as the word "harry" reached my ear, i turned round and, placing my lips to the wall, repeated the sound. .......... "forty seconds," said my uncle. "there has elapsed forty seconds between the two words. the sound, therefore, takes twenty seconds to ascend. now, allowing a thousand and twenty feet for every second--we have twenty thousand four hundred feet--a league and a half and one-eighth." these words fell on my soul like a kind of death knell. "a league and a half," i muttered in a low and despairing voice. .......... "it shall be got over, my boy," cried my uncle in a cheery tone; "depend on us." .......... "but do you know whether to ascend or descend?" i asked faintly enough. .......... "we have to descend, and i will tell you why. you have reached a vast open space, a kind of bare crossroad, from which galleries diverge in every direction. that in which you are now lying must necessarily bring you to this point, for it appears that all these mighty fissures, these fractures of the globe's interior, radiate from the vast cavern which we at this moment occupy. rouse yourself, then, have courage and continue your route. walk if you can, if not drag yourself along--slide, if nothing else is possible. the slope must be rather rapid--and you will find strong arms to receive you at the end of your journey. make a start, like a good fellow." these words served to rouse some kind of courage in my sinking frame. "farewell for the present, good uncle, i am about to take my departure. as soon as i start, our voices will cease to commingle. farewell, then, until we meet again." .......... "adieu, harry--until we say welcome." such were the last words which reached my anxious ears before i commenced my weary and almost hopeless journey. this wonderful and surprising conversation which took place through the vast mass of the earth's labyrinth, these words exchanged, the speakers being about five miles apart--ended with hopeful and pleasant expressions. i breathed one more prayer to heaven, i sent up words of thanksgiving--believing in my inmost heart that he had led me to the only place where the voices of my friends could reach my ears. this apparently astounding acoustic mystery is easily explainable by simple natural laws; it arose from the conductibility of the rock. there are many instances of this singular propagation of sound which are not perceptible in its less mediate positions. in the interior gallery of st. paul's, and amid the curious caverns in sicily, these phenomena are observable. the most marvelous of them all is known as the ear of dionysius. these memories of the past, of my early reading and studies, came fresh to my thoughts. moreover, i began to reason that if my uncle and i could communicate at so great a distance, no serious obstacle could exist between us. all i had to do was to follow the direction whence the sound had reached me; and logically putting it, i must reach him if my strength did not fail. i accordingly rose to my feet. i soon found, however, that i could not walk; that i must drag myself along. the slope as i expected was very rapid; but i allowed myself to slip down. soon the rapidity of the descent began to assume frightful proportions; and menaced a fearful fall. i clutched at the sides; i grasped at projections of rocks; i threw myself backwards. all in vain. my weakness was so great i could do nothing to save myself. suddenly earth failed me. i was first launched into a dark and gloomy void. i then struck against the projecting asperities of a vertical gallery, a perfect well. my head bounded against a pointed rock, and i lost all knowledge of existence. as far as i was concerned, death had claimed me for his own. chapter a rapid recovery when i returned to the consciousness of existence, i found myself surrounded by a kind of semiobscurity, lying on some thick and soft coverlets. my uncle was watching--his eyes fixed intently on my countenance, a grave expression on his face, a tear in his eye. at the first sigh which struggled from my bosom, he took hold of my hand. when he saw my eyes open and fix themselves upon his, he uttered a loud cry of joy. "he lives! he lives!" "yes, my good uncle," i whispered. "my dear boy," continued the grim professor, clasping me to his heart, "you are saved!" i was deeply and unaffectedly touched by the tone in which these words were uttered, and even more by the kindly care which accompanied them. the professor, however, was one of those men who must be severely tried in order to induce any display of affection or gentle emotion. at this moment our friend hans, the guide, joined us. he saw my hand in that of my uncle, and i venture to say that, taciturn as he was, his eyes beamed with lively satisfaction. "god dag," he said. "good day, hans, good day," i replied, in as hearty a tone as i could assume, "and now, uncle, that we are together, tell me where we are. i have lost all idea of our position, as of everything else." "tomorrow, harry, tomorrow," he replied. "today you are far too weak. your head is surrounded with bandages and poultices that must not be touched. sleep, my boy, sleep, and tomorrow you will know all that you require." "but," i cried, "let me know what o'clock it is--what day it is?" "it is now eleven o'clock at night, and this is once more sunday. it is now the ninth of the month of august. and i distinctly prohibit you from asking any more questions until the tenth of the same." i was, if the truth were told, very weak indeed, and my eyes soon closed involuntarily. i did require a good night's rest, and i went off reflecting at the last moment that my perilous adventure in the interior of the earth, in total darkness, had lasted four days! on the morning of the next day, at my awakening, i began to look around me. my sleeping place, made of all our traveling bedding, was in a charming grotto, adorned with magnificent stalagmites, glittering in all the colors of the rainbow, the floor of soft and silvery sand. a dim obscurity prevailed. no torch, no lamp was lighted, and yet certain unexplained beams of light penetrated from without, and made their way through the opening of the beautiful grotto. i, moreover, heard a vague and indefinite murmur, like the ebb and flow of waves upon a strand, and sometimes i verily believed i could hear the sighing of the wind. i began to believe that, instead of being awake, i must be dreaming. surely my brain had not been affected by my fall, and all that occurred during the last twenty-four hours was not the frenzied visions of madness? and yet after some reflection, a trial of my faculties, i came to the conclusion that i could not be mistaken. eyes and ears could not surely both deceive me. "it is a ray of the blessed daylight," i said to myself, "which has penetrated through some mighty fissure in the rocks. but what is the meaning of this murmur of waves, this unmistakable moaning of the salt-sea billows? i can hear, too, plainly enough, the whistling of the wind. but can i be altogether mistaken? if my uncle, during my illness, has but carried me back to the surface of the earth! has he, on my account, given up his wondrous expedition, or in some strange manner has it come to an end?" i was puzzling my brain over these and other questions, when the professor joined me. "good day, harry," he cried in a joyous tone. "i fancy you are quite well." "i am very much better," i replied, actually sitting up in my bed. "i knew that would be the end of it, as you slept both soundly and tranquilly. hans and i have each taken turn to watch, and every hour we have seen visible signs of amelioration." "you must be right, uncle," was my reply, "for i feel as if i could do justice to any meal you could put before me." "you shall eat, my boy, you shall eat. the fever has left you. our excellent friend hans has rubbed your wounds and bruises with i know not what ointment, of which the icelanders alone possess the secret. and they have healed your bruises in the most marvelous manner. ah, he's a wise fellow is master hans." while he was speaking, my uncle was placing before me several articles of food, which, despite his earnest injunctions, i readily devoured. as soon as the first rage of hunger was appeased, i overwhelmed him with questions, to which he now no longer hesitated to give answers. i then learned, for the first time, that my providential fall had brought me to the bottom of an almost perpendicular gallery. as i came down, amidst a perfect shower of stones, the least of which falling on me would have crushed me to death, they came to the conclusion that i had carried with me an entire dislocated rock. riding as it were on this terrible chariot, i was cast headlong into my uncle's arms. and into them i fell, insensible and covered with blood. "it is indeed a miracle," was the professor's final remark, "that you were not killed a thousand times over. but let us take care never to separate; for surely we should risk never meeting again." "let us take care never again to separate." these words fell with a sort of chill upon my heart. the journey, then, was not over. i looked at my uncle with surprise and astonishment. my uncle, after an instant's examination of my countenance, said: "what is the matter, harry?" "i want to ask you a very serious question. you say that i am all right in health?" "certainly you are." "and all my limbs are sound and capable of new exertion?" i asked. "most undoubtedly." "but what about my head?" was my next anxious question. "well, your head, except that you have one or two contusions, is exactly where it ought to be--on your shoulders," said my uncle, laughing. "well, my own opinion is that my head is not exactly right. in fact, i believe myself slightly delirious." "what makes you think so?" "i will explain why i fancy i have lost my senses," i cried. "have we not returned to the surface of mother earth?" "certainly not." "then truly i must be mad, for do i not see the light of day? do i not hear the whistling of the wind? and can i not distinguish the wash of a great sea?" "and that is all that makes you uneasy?" said my uncle, with a smile. "can you explain?" "i will not make any attempt to explain; for the whole matter is utterly inexplicable. but you shall see and judge for yourself. you will then find that geological science is as yet in its infancy--and that we are doomed to enlighten the world." "let us advance, then," i cried eagerly, no longer able to restrain my curiosity. "wait a moment, my dear harry," he responded; "you must take precautions after your illness before going into the open air." "the open air?" "yes, my boy. i have to warn you that the wind is rather violent--and i have no wish for you to expose yourself without necessary precautions." "but i beg to assure you that i am perfectly recovered from my illness." "have just a little patience, my boy. a relapse would be inconvenient to all parties. we have no time to lose--as our approaching sea voyage may be of long duration." "sea voyage?" i cried, more bewildered than ever. "yes. you must take another day's rest, and we shall be ready to go on board by tomorrow," replied my uncle, with a peculiar smile. "go on board!" the words utterly astonished me. go on board--what and how? had we come upon a river, a lake, had we discovered some inland sea? was a vessel lying at anchor in some part of the interior of the earth? my curiosity was worked up to the very highest pitch. my uncle made vain attempts to restrain me. when at last, however, he discovered that my feverish impatience would do more harm than good--and that the satisfaction of my wishes could alone restore me to a calm state of mind--he gave way. i dressed myself rapidly--and then taking the precaution to please my uncle, of wrapping myself in one of the coverlets, i rushed out of the grotto. chapter the central sea at first i saw absolutely nothing. my eyes, wholly unused to the effulgence of light, could not bear the sudden brightness; and i was compelled to close them. when i was able to reopen them, i stood still, far more stupefied than astonished. not all the wildest effects of imagination could have conjured up such a scene! "the sea--the sea," i cried. "yes," replied my uncle, in a tone of pardonable pride; "the central sea. no future navigator will deny the fact of my having discovered it; and hence of acquiring a right of giving it a name." it was quite true. a vast, limitless expanse of water, the end of a lake if not of an ocean, spread before us, until it was lost in the distance. the shore, which was very much indented, consisted of a beautiful soft golden sand, mixed with small shells, the long-deserted home of some of the creatures of a past age. the waves broke incessantly--and with a peculiarly sonorous murmur, to be found in underground localities. a slight frothy flake arose as the wind blew along the pellucid waters; and many a dash of spray was blown into my face. the mighty superstructure of rock which rose above to an inconceivable height left only a narrow opening--but where we stood, there was a large margin of strand. on all sides were capes and promontories and enormous cliffs, partially worn by the eternal breaking of the waves, through countless ages! and as i gazed from side to side, the mighty rocks faded away like a fleecy film of cloud. it was in reality an ocean, with all the usual characteristics of an inland sea, only horribly wild--so rigid, cold and savage. one thing startled and puzzled me greatly. how was it that i was able to look upon that vast sheet of water instead of being plunged in utter darkness? the vast landscape before me was lit up like day. but there was wanting the dazzling brilliancy, the splendid irradiation of the sun; the pale cold illumination of the moon; the brightness of the stars. the illuminating power in this subterranean region, from its trembling and rickering character, its clear dry whiteness, the very slight elevation of its temperature, its great superiority to that of the moon, was evidently electric; something in the nature of the aurora borealis, only that its phenomena were constant, and able to light up the whole of the ocean cavern. the tremendous vault above our heads, the sky, so to speak, appeared to be composed of a conglomeration of nebulous vapors, in constant motion. i should originally have supposed that, under such an atmospheric pressure as must exist in that place, the evaporation of water could not really take place, and yet from the action of some physical law, which escaped my memory, there were heavy and dense clouds rolling along that mighty vault, partially concealing the roof. electric currents produced astonishing play of light and shade in the distance, especially around the heavier clouds. deep shadows were cast beneath, and then suddenly, between two clouds, there would come a ray of unusual beauty, and remarkable intensity. and yet it was not like the sun, for it gave no heat. the effect was sad and excruciatingly melancholy. instead of a noble firmament of blue, studded with stars, there was above me a heavy roof of granite, which seemed to crush me. gazing around, i began to think of the theory of the english captain who compared the earth to a vast hollow sphere in the interior of which the air is retained in a luminous state by means of atmospheric pressure, while two stars, pluto and proserpine, circled there in their mysterious orbits. after all, suppose the old fellow was right! in truth, we were imprisoned--bound as it were, in a vast excavation. its width it was impossible to make out; the shore, on either hand, widening rapidly until lost to sight; while its length was equally uncertain. a haze on the distant horizon bounded our view. as to its height, we could see that it must be many miles to the roof. looking upward, it was impossible to discover where the stupendous roof began. the lowest of the clouds must have been floating at an elevation of two thousand yards, a height greater than that of terrestrial vapors, which circumstance was doubtless owing to the extreme density of the air. i use the word "cavern" in order to give an idea of the place. i cannot describe its awful grandeur; human language fails to convey an idea of its savage sublimity. whether this singular vacuum had or had not been caused by the sudden cooling of the earth when in a state of fusion, i could not say. i had read of most wonderful and gigantic caverns--but, none in any way like this. the great grotto of guachara, in colombia, visited by the learned humboldt; the vast and partially explored mammoth cave in kentucky--what were these holes in the earth to that in which i stood in speechless admiration! with its vapory clouds, its electric light, and the mighty ocean slumbering in its bosom! imagination, not description, can alone give an idea of the splendor and vastness of the cave. i gazed at these marvels in profound silence. words were utterly wanting to indicate the sensations of wonder i experienced. i seemed, as i stood upon that mysterious shore, as if i were some wandering inhabitant of a distant planet, present for the first time at the spectacle of some terrestrial phenomena belonging to another existence. to give body and existence to such new sensations would have required the coinage of new words--and here my feeble brain found itself wholly at fault. i looked on, i thought, i reflected, i admired, in a state of stupefaction not altogether unmingled with fear! the unexpected spectacle restored some color to my pallid cheeks. i seemed to be actually getting better under the influence of this novelty. moreover, the vivacity of the dense atmosphere reanimated my body by inflating my lungs with unaccustomed oxygen. it will be readily conceived that after an imprisonment of forty-seven days, in a dark and miserable tunnel it was with infinite delight that i breathed this saline air. it was like the genial, reviving influence of the salt sea waves. my uncle had already got over the first surprise. with the latin poet horace his idea was that-- not to admire is all the art i know, to make man happy and to keep him so. "well," he said, after giving me time thoroughly to appreciate the marvels of this underground sea, "do you feel strong enough to walk up and down?" "certainly," was my ready answer, "nothing would give me greater pleasure." "well then, my boy," he said, "lean on my arm, and we will stroll along the beach." i accepted his offer eagerly, and we began to walk along the shores of this extraordinary lake. to our left were abrupt rocks, piled one upon the other--a stupendous titanic pile; down their sides leaped innumerable cascades, which at last, becoming limpid and murmuring streams, were lost in the waters of the lake. light vapors, which rose here and there, and floated in fleecy clouds from rock to rock, indicated hot springs, which also poured their superfluity into the vast reservoir at our feet. among them i recognized our old and faithful stream, the hansbach, which, lost in that wild basin, seemed as if it had been flowing since the creation of the world. "we shall miss our excellent friend," i remarked, with a deep sigh. "bah!" said my uncle testily, "what matters it? that or another, it is all the same." i thought the remark ungrateful, and felt almost inclined to say so; but i forbore. at this moment my attention was attracted by an unexpected spectacle. after we had gone about five hundred yards, we suddenly turned a steep promontory, and found ourselves close to a lofty forest! it consisted of straight trunks with tufted tops, in shape like parasols. the air seemed to have no effect upon these trees--which in spite of a tolerable breeze remained as still and motionless as if they had been petrified. i hastened forward. i could find no name for these singular formations. did they not belong to the two thousand and more known trees--or were we to make the discovery of a new growth? by no means. when we at last reached the forest, and stood beneath the trees, my surprise gave way to admiration. in truth, i was simply in the presence of a very ordinary product of the earth, of singular and gigantic proportions. my uncle unhesitatingly called them by their real names. "it is only," he said, in his coolest manner, "a forest of mushrooms." on close examination i found that he was not mistaken. judge of the development attained by this product of damp hot soils. i had heard that the lycoperdon giganteum reaches nine feet in circumference, but here were white mushrooms, nearly forty feet high, and with tops of equal dimensions. they grew in countless thousands--the light could not make its way through their massive substance, and beneath them reigned a gloomy and mystic darkness. still i wished to go forward. the cold in the shades of this singular forest was intense. for nearly an hour we wandered about in this visible darkness. at length i left the spot, and once more returned to the shores of the lake, to light and comparative warmth. but the amazing vegetation of subterraneous land was not confined to gigantic mushrooms. new wonders awaited us at every step. we had not gone many hundred yards, when we came upon a mighty group of other trees with discolored leaves--the common humble trees of mother earth, of an exorbitant and phenomenal size: lycopods a hundred feet high; flowering ferns as tall as pines; gigantic grasses! "astonishing, magnificent, splendid!" cried my uncle; "here we have before us the whole flora of the second period of the world, that of transition. behold the humble plants of our gardens, which in the first ages of the world were mighty trees. look around you, my dear harry. no botanist ever before gazed on such a sight!" my uncle's enthusiasm, always a little more than was required, was now excusable. "you are right, uncle," i remarked. "providence appears to have designed the preservation in this vast and mysterious hothouse of antediluvian plants, to prove the sagacity of learned men in figuring them so marvelously on paper." "well said, my boy--very well said; it is indeed a mighty hothouse. but you would also be within the bounds of reason and common sense, if you added that it is also a vast menagerie." i looked rather anxiously around. if the animals were as exaggerated as the plants, the matter would certainly be serious. "a menagerie?" "doubtless. look at the dust we are treading under foot--behold the bones with which the whole soil of the seashore is covered--" "bones," i replied, "yes, certainly, the bones of antediluvian animals." i stooped down as i spoke, and picked up one or two singular remains, relics of a bygone age. it was easy to give a name to these gigantic bones, in some instances as big as trunks of trees. "here is, clearly, the lower jawbone of a mastodon," i cried, almost as warmly and enthusiastically as my uncle; "here are the molars of the dinotherium; here is a leg bone which belonged to the megatherium. you are right, uncle, it is indeed a menagerie; for the mighty animals to which these bones once belonged, have lived and died on the shores of this subterranean sea, under the shadow of these plants. look, yonder are whole skeletons--and yet--" "and yet, nephew?" said my uncle, noticing that i suddenly came to a full stop. "i do not understand the presence of such beasts in granite caverns, however vast and prodigious," was my reply. "why not?" said my uncle, with very much of his old professional impatience. "because it is well known that animal life only existed on earth during the secondary period, when the sedimentary soil was formed by the alluviums, and thus replaced the hot and burning rocks of the primitive age." "i have listened to you earnestly and with patience, harry, and i have a simple and clear answer to your objections: and that is, that this itself is a sedimentary soil." "how can that be at such enormous depth from the surface of the earth?" "the fact can be explained both simply and geologically. at a certain period, the earth consisted only of an elastic crust, liable to alternative upward and downward movements in virtue of the law of attraction. it is very probable that many a landslip took place in those days, and that large portions of sedimentary soil were cast into huge and mighty chasms." "quite possible," i dryly remarked. "but, uncle, if these antediluvian animals formerly lived in these subterranean regions, what more likely than that one of these monsters may at this moment be concealed behind one of yonder mighty rocks." as i spoke, i looked keenly around, examining with care every point of the horizon; but nothing alive appeared to exist on these deserted shores. i now felt rather fatigued, and told my uncle so. the walk and excitement were too much for me in my weak state. i therefore seated myself at the end of a promontory, at the foot of which the waves broke in incessant rolls. i looked round a bay formed by projections of vast granitic rocks. at the extreme end was a little port protected by huge pyramids of stones. a brig and three or four schooners might have lain there with perfect ease. so natural did it seem, that every minute my imagination induced me to expect a vessel coming out under all sail and making for the open sea under the influence of a warm southerly breeze. but the fantastic illusion never lasted more than a minute. we were the only living creatures in this subterranean world! during certain periods there was an utter cessation of wind, when a silence deeper, more terrible than the silence of the desert fell upon these solitary and arid rocks--and seemed to hang like a leaden weight upon the waters of this singular ocean. i sought, amid the awful stillness, to penetrate through the distant fog, to tear down the veil which concealed the mysterious distance. what unspoken words were murmured by my trembling lips--what questions did i wish to ask and did not! where did this sea end--to what did it lead? should we ever be able to examine its distant shores? but my uncle had no doubts about the matter. he was convinced that our enterprise would in the end be successful. for my part, i was in a state of painful indecision--i desired to embark on the journey and to succeed, and still i feared the result. after we had passed an hour or more in silent contemplation of the wondrous spectacle, we rose and went down towards the bank on our way to the grotto, which i was not sorry to gain. after a slight repast, i sought refuge in slumber, and at length, after many and tedious struggles, sleep came over my weary eyes. chapter launching the raft on the morning of the next day, to my great surprise, i awoke completely restored. i thought a bath would be delightful after my long illness and sufferings. so, soon after rising, i went and plunged into the waters of this new mediterranean. the bath was cool, fresh and invigorating. i came back to breakfast with an excellent appetite. hans, our worthy guide, thoroughly understood how to cook such eatables as we were able to provide; he had both fire and water at discretion, so that he was enabled slightly to vary the weary monotony of our ordinary repast. our morning meal was like a capital english breakfast, with coffee by way of a windup. and never had this delicious beverage been so welcome and refreshing. my uncle had sufficient regard for my state of health not to interrupt me in the enjoyment of the meal, but he was evidently delighted when i had finished. "now then," said he, "come with me. it is the height of the tide, and i am anxious to study its curious phenomena." "what!"' i cried, rising in astonishment, "did you say the tide, uncle?" "certainly i did." "you do not mean to say," i replied, in a tone of respectful doubt, "that the influence of the sun and moon is felt here below." "and pray why not? are not all bodies influenced by the law of universal attraction? why should this vast underground sea be exempt from the general law, the rule of the universe? besides, there is nothing like that which is proved and demonstrated. despite the great atmospheric pressure down here, you will notice that this inland sea rises and falls with as much regularity as the atlantic itself." as my uncle spoke, we reached the sandy shore, and saw and heard the waves breaking monotonously on the beach. they were evidently rising. "this is truly the flood," i cried, looking at the water at my feet. "yes, my excellent nephew," replied my uncle, rubbing his hands with the gusto of a philosopher, "and you see by these several streaks of foam that the tide rises at least ten or twelve feet." "it is indeed marvelous." "by no means," he responded; "on the contrary, it is quite natural." "it may appear so in your eyes, my dear uncle," was my reply, "but all the phenomena of the place appear to me to partake of the marvelous. it is almost impossible to believe that which i see. who in his wildest dreams could have imagined that, beneath the crust of our earth, there could exist a real ocean, with ebbing and flowing tides, with its changes of winds, and even its storms! i for one should have laughed the suggestion to scorn." "but, harry, my boy, why not?" inquired my uncle, with a pitying smile; "is there any physical reason in opposition to it?" "well, if we give up the great theory of the central heat of the earth, i certainly can offer no reasons why anything should be looked upon as impossible." "then you will own," he added, "that the system of sir humphry davy is wholly justified by what we have seen?" "i allow that it is--and that point once granted, i certainly can see no reason for doubting the existence of seas and other wonders, even countries, in the interior of the globe." "that is so--but of course these varied countries are uninhabited?" "well, i grant that it is more likely than not: still, i do not see why this sea should not have given shelter to some species of unknown fish." "hitherto we have not discovered any, and the probabilities are rather against our ever doing so," observed the professor. i was losing my skepticism in the presence of these wonders. "well, i am determined to solve the question. it is my intention to try my luck with my fishing line and hook." "certainly; make the experiment," said my uncle, pleased with my enthusiasm. "while we are about it, it will certainly be only proper to discover all the secrets of this extraordinary region." "but, after all, where are we now?" i asked; "all this time i have quite forgotten to ask you a question, which, doubtless, your philosophical instruments have long since answered." "well," replied the professor, "examining the situation from only one point of view, we are now distant three hundred and fifty leagues from iceland." "so much?" was my exclamation. "i have gone over the matter several times, and am sure not to have made a mistake of five hundred yards," replied my uncle positively. "and as to the direction--are we still going to the southeast?" "yes, with a western declination[ ] of nineteen degrees, forty-two minutes, just as it is above. as for the inclination[ ] i have discovered a very curious fact." [ ] the declination is the variation of the needle from the true meridian of a place. [ ] inclination is the dip of the magnetic needle with a tendency to incline towards the earth. "what may that be, uncle? your information interests me." "why, that the needle instead of dipping towards the pole as it does on earth, in the northern hemisphere, has an upward tendency." "this proves," i cried, "that the great point of magnetic attraction lies somewhere between the surface of the earth and the spot we have succeeded in reaching." "exactly, my observant nephew," exclaimed my uncle, elated and delighted, "and it is quite probable that if we succeed in getting toward the polar regions--somewhere near the seventy-third degree of latitude, where sir james ross discovered the magnetic pole, we shall behold the needle point directly upward. we have therefore discovered by analogy, that this great centre of attraction is not situated at a very great depth." "well," said i, rather surprised, "this discovery will astonish experimental philosophers. it was never suspected." "science, great, mighty and in the end unerring," replied my uncle dogmatically, "science has fallen into many errors--errors which have been fortunate and useful rather than otherwise, for they have been the steppingstones to truth." after some further discussion, i turned to another matter. "have you any idea of the depth we have reached?" "we are now," continued the professor, "exactly thirty-five leagues--above a hundred miles--down into the interior of the earth." "so," said i, after measuring the distance on the map, "we are now beneath the scottish highlands, and have over our heads the lofty grampian hills." "you are quite right," said the professor, laughing; "it sounds very alarming, the weight being heavy--but the vault which supports this vast mass of earth and rock is solid and safe; the mighty architect of the universe has constructed it of solid materials. man, even in his highest flights of vivid and poetic imagination, never thought of such things! what are the finest arches of our bridges, what the vaulted roofs of our cathedrals, to that mighty dome above us, and beneath which floats an ocean with its storms and calms and tides!" "i admire it all as much as you can, uncle, and have no fear that our granite sky will fall upon our heads. but now that we have discussed matters of science and discovery, what are your future intentions? are you not thinking of getting back to the surface of our beautiful earth?" this was said more as a feeler than with any hope of success. "go back, nephew," cried my uncle in a tone of alarm, "you are not surely thinking of anything so absurd or cowardly. no, my intention is to advance and continue our journey. we have as yet been singularly fortunate, and henceforth i hope we shall be more so." "but," said i, "how are we to cross yonder liquid plain?" "it is not my intention to leap into it head foremost, or even to swim across it, like leander over the hellespont. but as oceans are, after all, only great lakes, inasmuch as they are surrounded by land, so does it stand to reason, that this central sea is circumscribed by granite surroundings." "doubtless," was my natural reply. "well, then, do you not think that when once we reach the other end, we shall find some means of continuing our journey?" "probably, but what extent do you allow to this internal ocean?" "well, i should fancy it to extend about forty or fifty leagues--more or less." "but even supposing this approximation to be a correct one--what then?" i asked. "my dear boy, we have no time for further discussion. we shall embark tomorrow." i looked around with surprise and incredulity. i could see nothing in the shape of boat or vessel. "what!" i cried, "we are about to launch out upon an unknown sea; and where, if i may ask, is the vessel to carry us?" "well, my dear boy, it will not be exactly what you would call a vessel. for the present we must be content with a good and solid raft." "a raft," i cried, incredulously, "but down here a raft is as impossible of construction as a vessel--and i am at a loss to imagine--" "my good harry--if you were to listen instead of talking so much, you would hear," said my uncle, waxing a little impatient. "i should hear?" "yes--certain knocks with the hammer, which hans is now employing to make the raft. he has been at work for many hours." "making a raft?" "yes." "but where has he found trees suitable for such a construction?" "he found the trees all ready to his hand. come, and you shall see our excellent guide at work." more and more amazed at what i heard and saw, i followed my uncle like one in a dream. after a walk of about a quarter of an hour, i saw hans at work on the other side of the promontory which formed our natural port. a few minutes more and i was beside him. to my great surprise, on the sandy shore lay a half-finished raft. it was made from beams of a very peculiar wood, and a great number of limbs, joints, boughs, and pieces lay about, sufficient to have constructed a fleet of ships and boats. i turned to my uncle, silent with astonishment and awe. "where did all this wood come from?" i cried; "what wood is it?" "well, there is pinewood, fir, and the palms of the northern regions, mineralized by the action of the sea," he replied, sententiously. "can it be possible?" "yes," said the learned professor, "what you see is called fossil wood." "but then," cried i, after reflecting for a moment, "like the lignites, it must be as hard and as heavy as iron, and therefore will certainly not float." "sometimes that is the case. many of these woods have become true anthracites, but others again, like those you see before you, have only undergone one phase of fossil transformation. but there is no proof like demonstration," added my uncle, picking one or two of these precious waifs and casting them into the sea. the piece of wood, after having disappeared for a moment, came to the surface, and floated about with the oscillation produced by wind and tide. "are you convinced?" said my uncle, with a self-satisfied smile. "i am convinced," i cried, "that what i see is incredible." the fact was that my journey into the interior of the earth was rapidly changing all preconceived notions, and day by day preparing me for the marvelous. i should not have been surprised to have seen a fleet of native canoes afloat upon that silent sea. the very next evening, thanks to the industry and ability of hans, the raft was finished. it was about ten feet long and five feet wide. the beams bound together with stout ropes, were solid and firm, and once launched by our united efforts, the improvised vessel floated tranquilly upon the waters of what the professor had well named the central sea. chapter on the waters--a raft voyage on the thirteenth of august we were up betimes. there was no time to be lost. we now had to inaugurate a new kind of locomotion, which would have the advantage of being rapid and not fatiguing. a mast, made of two pieces of wood fastened together, to give additional strength, a yard made from another one, the sail a linen sheet from our bed. we were fortunately in no want of cordage, and the whole on trial appeared solid and seaworthy. at six o'clock in the morning, when the eager and enthusiastic professor gave the signal to embark, the victuals, the luggage, all our instruments, our weapons, and a goodly supply of sweet water, which we had collected from springs in the rocks, were placed on the raft. hans had, with considerable ingenuity, contrived a rudder, which enabled him to guide the floating apparatus with ease. he took the tiller, as a matter of course. the worthy man was as good a sailor as he was a guide and duck hunter. i then let go the painter which held us to the shore, the sail was brought to the wind, and we made a rapid offing. our sea voyage had at length commenced; and once more we were making for distant and unknown regions. just as we were about to leave the little port where the raft had been constructed, my uncle, who was very strong as to geographic nomenclature, wanted to give it a name, and among others, suggested mine. "well," said i, "before you decide i have another to propose." "well; out with it." "i should like to call it gretchen. port gretchen will sound very well on our future map." "well then, port gretchen let it be," said the professor. and thus it was that the memory of my dear girl was attached to our adventurous and memorable expedition. when we left the shore the wind was blowing from the northward and eastward. we went directly before the wind at a much greater speed than might have been expected from a raft. the dense layers of atmosphere at that depth had great propelling power and acted upon the sail with considerable force. at the end of an hour, my uncle, who had been taking careful observations, was enabled to judge of the rapidity with which we moved. it was far beyond anything seen in the upper world. "if," he said, "we continue to advance at our present rate, we shall have traveled at least thirty leagues in twenty-four hours. with a mere raft this is an almost incredible velocity." i certainly was surprised, and without making any reply went forward upon the raft. already the northern shore was fading away on the edge of the horizon. the two shores appeared to separate more and more, leaving a wide and open space for our departure. before me i could see nothing but the vast and apparently limitless sea--upon which we floated--the only living objects in sight. huge and dark clouds cast their grey shadows below--shadows which seemed to crush that colorless and sullen water by their weight. anything more suggestive of gloom and of regions of nether darkness i never beheld. silvery rays of electric light, reflected here and there upon some small spots of water, brought up luminous sparkles in the long wake of our cumbrous bark. presently we were wholly out of sight of land; not a vestige could be seen, nor any indication of where we were going. so still and motionless did we seem without any distant point to fix our eyes on that but for the phosphoric light at the wake of the raft i should have fancied that we were still and motionless. but i knew that we were advancing at a very rapid rate. about twelve o'clock in the day, vast collections of seaweed were discovered surrounding us on all sides. i was aware of the extraordinary vegetative power of these plants, which have been known to creep along the bottom of the great ocean, and stop the advance of large ships. but never were seaweeds ever seen, so gigantic and wonderful as those of the central sea. i could well imagine how, seen at a distance, tossing and heaving on the summit of the billows, the long lines of algae have been taken for living things, and thus have been fertile sources of the belief in sea serpents. our raft swept past great specimens of fucus or seawrack, from three to four thousand feet in length, immense, incredibly long, looking like snakes that stretched out far beyond our horizon. it afforded me great amusement to gaze on their variegated ribbon-like endless lengths. hour after hour passed without our coming to the termination of these floating weeds. if my astonishment increased, my patience was well-nigh exhausted. what natural force could possibly have produced such abnormal and extraordinary plants? what must have been the aspect of the globe, during the first centuries of its formation, when under the combined action of heat and humidity, the vegetable kingdom occupied its vast surface to the exclusion of everything else? these were considerations of never-ending interest for the geologist and the philosopher. all this while we were advancing on our journey; and at length night came; but as i had remarked the evening before, the luminous state of the atmosphere was in nothing diminished. whatever was the cause, it was a phenomenon upon the duration of which we could calculate with certainty. as soon as our supper had been disposed of, and some little speculative conversation indulged in, i stretched myself at the foot of the mast, and presently went to sleep. hans remained motionless at the tiller, allowing the raft to rise and fall on the waves. the wind being aft, and the sail square, all he had to do was to keep his oar in the centre. ever since we had taken our departure from the newly named port gretchen, my worthy uncle had directed me to keep a regular log of our day's navigation, with instructions to put down even the most minute particulars, every interesting and curious phenomenon, the direction of the wind, our rate of sailing, the distance we went; in a word, every incident of our extraordinary voyage. from our log, therefore, i tell the story of our voyage on the central sea. friday, august th. a steady breeze from the northwest. raft progressing with extreme rapidity, and going perfectly straight. coast still dimly visible about thirty leagues to leeward. nothing to be seen beyond the horizon in front. the extraordinary intensity of the light neither increases nor diminishes. it is singularly stationary. the weather remarkably fine; that is to say, the clouds have ascended very high, and are light and fleecy, and surrounded by an atmosphere resembling silver in fusion. thermometer, + degrees centigrade. about twelve o'clock in the day our guide hans having prepared and baited a hook, cast his line into the subterranean waters. the bait he used was a small piece of meat, by means of which he concealed his hook. anxious as i was, i was for a long time doomed to disappointment. were these waters supplied with fish or not? that was the important question. no--was my decided answer. then there came a sudden and rather hard tug. hans coolly drew it in, and with it a fish, which struggled violently to escape. "a fish!" cried my uncle. "it is a sturgeon!" i cried, "certainly a small sturgeon." the professor examined the fish carefully, noting every characteristic; and he did not coincide in my opinion. the fish had a flat head, round body, and the lower extremities covered with bony scales; its mouth was wholly without teeth, the pectoral fins, which were highly developed, sprouted direct from the body, which properly speaking had no tail. the animal certainly belonged to the order in which naturalists class the sturgeon, but it differed from that fish in many essential particulars. my uncle, after all, was not mistaken. after a long and patient examination, he said: "this fish, my dear boy, belongs to a family which has been extinct for ages, and of which no trace has ever been found on earth, except fossil remains in the devonian strata." "you do not mean to say," i cried, "that we have captured a live specimen of a fish belonging to the primitive stock that existed before the deluge?" "we have," said the professor, who all this time was continuing his observations, "and you may see by careful examination that these fossil fish have no identity with existing species. to hold in one's hand, therefore, a living specimen of the order, is enough to make a naturalist happy for life." "but," cried i, "to what family does it belong?" "to the order of ganoides--an order of fish having angular scales, covered with bright enamel--forming one of the family of the cephalaspides, of the genus--" "well, sir," i remarked, as i noticed my uncle hesitated to conclude. "to the genus pterychtis--yes, i am certain of it. still, though i am confident of the correctness of my surmise, this fish offers to our notice a remarkable peculiarity, never known to exist in any other fish but those which are the natives of subterranean waters, wells, lakes, in caverns, and suchlike hidden pools." "and what may that be?" "it is blind." "blind!" i cried, much surprised. "not only blind," continued the professor, "but absolutely without organs of sight." i now examined our discovery for myself. it was singular, to be sure, but it was really a fact. this, however, might be a solitary instance, i suggested. the hook was baited again and once more thrown into the water. this subterranean ocean must have been tolerably well supplied with fish, for in two hours we took a large number of pterychtis, as well as other fish belonging to another supposed extinct family--the dipterides (a genus of fish, furnished with two fins only, whence the name), though my uncle could not class it exactly. all, without exception, however, were blind. this unexpected capture enabled us to renew our stock of provisions in a very satisfactory way. we were now convinced that this subterranean sea contained only fish known to us as fossil specimens--and fish and reptiles alike were all the more perfect the farther back they dated their origin. we began to hope that we should find some of those saurians which science has succeeded in reconstructing from bits of bone or cartilage. i took up the telescope and carefully examined the horizon--looked over the whole sea; it was utterly and entirely deserted. doubtless we were still too near the coast. after an examination of the ocean, i looked upward, towards the strange and mysterious sky. why should not one of the birds reconstructed by the immortal cuvier flap his stupendous wings aloft in the dull strata of subterranean air? it would, of course, find quite sufficient food from the fish in the sea. i gazed for some time upon the void above. it was as silent and as deserted as the shores we had but lately left. nevertheless, though i could neither see nor discover anything, my imagination carried me away into wild hypotheses. i was in a kind of waking dream. i thought i saw on the surface of the water those enormous antediluvian turtles as big as floating islands. upon those dull and somber shores passed a spectral row of the mammifers of early days, the great liptotherium found in the cavernous hollow of the brazilian hills, the mesicotherium, a native of the glacial regions of siberia. farther on, the pachydermatous lophrodon, that gigantic tapir, which concealed itself behind rocks, ready to do battle for its prey with the anoplotherium, a singular animal partaking of the nature of the rhinoceros, the horse, the hippopotamus and the camel. there was the giant mastodon, twisting and turning his horrid trunk, with which he crushed the rocks of the shore to powder, while the megatherium--his back raised like a cat in a passion, his enormous claws stretched out, dug into the earth for food, at the same time that he awoke the sonorous echoes of the whole place with his terrible roar. higher up still, the first monkey ever seen on the face of the globe clambered, gamboling and playing up the granite hills. still farther away, ran the pterodactyl, with the winged hand, gliding or rather sailing through the dense and compressed air like a huge bat. above all, near the leaden granitic sky, were immense birds, more powerful than the cassowary and the ostrich, which spread their mighty wings and fluttered against the huge stone vault of the inland sea. i thought, such was the effect of my imagination, that i saw this whole tribe of antediluvian creatures. i carried myself back to far ages, long before man existed--when, in fact, the earth was in too imperfect a state for him to live upon it. my dream was of countless ages before the existence of man. the mammifers first disappeared, then the mighty birds, then the reptiles of the secondary period, presently the fish, the crustacea, the mollusks, and finally the vertebrata. the zoophytes of the period of transition in their turn sank into annihilation. the whole panorama of the world's life before the historic period, seemed to be born over again, and mine was the only human heart that beat in this unpeopled world! there were no more seasons; there were no more climates; the natural heat of the world increased unceasingly, and neutralized that of the great radiant sun. vegetation was exaggerated in an extraordinary manner. i passed like a shadow in the midst of brushwood as lofty as the giant trees of california, and trod underfoot the moist and humid soil, reeking with a rank and varied vegetation. i leaned against the huge column-like trunks of giant trees, to which those of canada were as ferns. whole ages passed, hundreds upon hundreds of years were concentrated into a single day. next, unrolled before me like a panorama, came the great and wondrous series of terrestrial transformations. plants disappeared; the granitic rocks lost all trace of solidity; the liquid state was suddenly substituted for that which had before existed. this was caused by intense heat acting on the organic matter of the earth. the waters flowed over the whole surface of the globe; they boiled; they were volatilized, or turned into vapor; a kind of steam cloud wrapped the whole earth, the globe itself becoming at last nothing but one huge sphere of gas, indescribable in color, between white heat and red, as big and as brilliant as the sun. in the very centre of this prodigious mass, fourteen hundred thousand times as large as our globe, i was whirled round in space, and brought into close conjunction with the planets. my body was subtilized, or rather became volatile, and commingled in a state of atomic vapor, with the prodigious clouds, which rushed forward like a mighty comet into infinite space! what an extraordinary dream! where would it finally take me? my feverish hand began to write down the marvelous details--details more like the imaginings of a lunatic than anything sober and real. i had during this period of hallucination forgotten everything--the professor, the guide, and the raft on which we were floating. my mind was in a state of semioblivion. "what is the matter, harry?" said my uncle suddenly. my eyes, which were wide opened like those of a somnambulist, were fixed upon him, but i did not see him, nor could i clearly make out anything around me. "take care, my boy," again cried my uncle, "you will fall into the sea." as he uttered these words, i felt myself seized on the other side by the firm hand of our devoted guide. had it not been for the presence of mind of hans, i must infallibly have fallen into the waves and been drowned. "have you gone mad?" cried my uncle, shaking me on the other side. "what--what is the matter?" i said at last, coming to myself. "are you ill, henry?" continued the professor in an anxious tone. "no--no; but i have had an extraordinary dream. it, however, has passed away. all now seems well," i added, looking around me with strangely puzzled eyes. "all right," said my uncle; "a beautiful breeze, a splendid sea. we are going along at a rapid rate, and if i am not out in my calculations we shall soon see land. i shall not be sorry to exchange the narrow limits of our raft for the mysterious strand of the subterranean ocean." as my uncle uttered these words, i rose and carefully scanned the horizon. but the line of water was still confounded with the lowering clouds that hung aloft, and in the distance appeared to touch the edge of the water. chapter terrific saurian combat saturday, august th. the sea still retains its uniform monotony. the same leaden hue, the same eternal glare from above. no indication of land being in sight. the horizon appears to retreat before us, more and more as we advance. my head, still dull and heavy from the effects of my extraordinary dream, which i cannot as yet banish from my mind. the professor, who has not dreamed, is, however, in one of his morose and unaccountable humors. spends his time in scanning the horizon, at every point of the compass. his telescope is raised every moment to his eyes, and when he finds nothing to give any clue to our whereabouts, he assumes a napoleonic attitude and walks anxiously. i remarked that my uncle, the professor, had a strong tendency to resume his old impatient character, and i could not but make a note of this disagreeable circumstance in my journal. i saw clearly that it had required all the influence of my danger and suffering, to extract from him one scintillation of humane feeling. now that i was quite recovered, his original nature had conquered and obtained the upper hand. and, after all, what had he to be angry and annoyed about, now more than at any other time? was not the journey being accomplished under the most favorable circumstances? was not the raft progressing with the most marvelous rapidity? what, then, could be the matter? after one or two preliminary hems, i determined to inquire. "you seem uneasy, uncle," said i, when for about the hundredth time he put down his telescope and walked up and down, muttering to himself. "no, i am not uneasy," he replied in a dry harsh tone, "by no means." "perhaps i should have said impatient," i replied, softening the force of my remark. "enough to make me so, i think." "and yet we are advancing at a rate seldom attained by a raft," i remarked. "what matters that?" cried my uncle. "i am not vexed at the rate we go at, but i am annoyed to find the sea so much vaster than i expected." i then recollected that the professor, before our departure, had estimated the length of this subterranean ocean as at most about thirty leagues. now we had traveled at least over thrice that distance without discovering any trace of the distant shore. i began to understand my uncle's anger. "we are not going down," suddenly exclaimed the professor. "we are not progressing with our great discoveries. all this is utter loss of time. after all, i did not come from home to undertake a party of pleasure. this voyage on a raft over a pond annoys and wearies me." he called this adventurous journey a party of pleasure, and this great inland sea a pond! "but," argued i, "if we have followed the route indicated by the great saknussemm, we cannot be going far wrong." "'that is the question,' as the great, the immortal shakespeare, has it. are we following the route indicated by that wondrous sage? did saknussemm ever fall in with this great sheet of water? if he did, did he cross it? i begin to fear that the rivulet we adopted for a guide has led us wrong." "in any case, we can never regret having come thus far. it is worth the whole journey to have enjoyed this magnificent spectacle--it is something to have seen." "i care nothing about seeing, nor about magnificent spectacles. i came down into the interior of the earth with an object, and that object i mean to attain. don't talk to me about admiring scenery, or any other sentimental trash." after this i thought it well to hold my tongue, and allow the professor to bite his lips until the blood came, without further remark. at six o'clock in the evening, our matter-of-fact guide, hans, asked for his week's salary, and receiving his three rix-dollars, put them carefully in his pocket. he was perfectly contented and satisfied. sunday, august th. nothing new to record. the same weather as before. the wind has a slight tendency to freshen up, with signs of an approaching gale. when i awoke, my first observation was in regard to the intensity of the light. i keep on fearing, day after day, that the extraordinary electric phenomenon should become first obscured, and then go wholly out, leaving us in total darkness. nothing, however, of the kind occurs. the shadow of the raft, its mast and sails, is clearly distinguished on the surface of the water. this wondrous sea is, after all, infinite in its extent. it must be quite as wide as the mediterranean--or perhaps even as the great atlantic ocean. why, after all, should it not be so? my uncle has on more than one occasion, tried deep-sea soundings. he tied the cross of one of our heaviest crowbars to the extremity of a cord, which he allowed to run out to the extent of two hundred fathoms. we had the greatest difficulty in hoisting in our novel kind of lead. when the crowbar was finally dragged on board, hans called my attention to some singular marks upon its surface. the piece of iron looked as if it had been crushed between two very hard substances. i looked at our worthy guide with an inquiring glance. "tander," said he. of course i was at a loss to understand. i turned round towards my uncle, absorbed in gloomy reflections. i had little wish to disturb him from his reverie. i accordingly turned once more towards our worthy icelander. hans very quietly and significantly opened his mouth once or twice, as if in the act of biting, and in this way made me understand his meaning. "teeth!" cried i, with stupefaction, as i examined the bar of iron with more attention. yes. there can be no doubt about the matter. the indentations on the bar of iron are the marks of teeth! what jaws must the owner of such molars be possessed of! have we then, come upon a monster of unknown species, which still exists within the vast waste of waters--a monster more voracious than a shark, more terrible and bulky than the whale? i am unable to withdraw my eyes from the bar of iron, actually half crushed! is, then, my dream about to come true--a dread and terrible reality? all day my thoughts were bent upon these speculations, and my imagination scarcely regained a degree of calmness and power of reflection until after a sleep of many hours. this day, as on other sundays, we observed as a day of rest and pious meditation. monday, august th. i have been trying to realize from memory the particular instincts of those antediluvian animals of the secondary period, which succeeding to the mollusca, to the crustacea, and to the fish, preceded the appearance of the race of mammifers. the generation of reptiles then reigned supreme upon the earth. these hideous monsters ruled everything in the seas of the secondary period, which formed the strata of which the jura mountains are composed. nature had endowed them with perfect organization. what a gigantic structure was theirs; what vast and prodigious strength they possessed! the existing saurians, which include all such reptiles as lizards, crocodiles, and alligators, even the largest and most formidable of their class, are but feeble imitations of their mighty sires, the animals of ages long ago. if there were giants in the days of old, there were also gigantic animals. i shuddered as i evolved from my mind the idea and recollection of these awful monsters. no eye of man had seen them in the flesh. they took their walks abroad upon the face of the earth thousands of ages before man came into existence, and their fossil bones, discovered in the limestone, have allowed us to reconstruct them anatomically, and thus to get some faint idea of their colossal formation. i recollect once seeing in the great museum of hamburg the skeleton of one of these wonderful saurians. it measured no less than thirty feet from the nose to the tail. am i, then, an inhabitant of the earth of the present day, destined to find myself face to face with a representative of this antediluvian family? i can scarcely believe it possible; i can hardly believe it true. and yet these marks of powerful teeth upon the bar of iron! can there be a doubt from their shape that the bite is the bite of a crocodile? my eyes stare wildly and with terror upon the subterranean sea. every moment i expect one of these monsters to rise from its vast cavernous depths. i fancy that the worthy professor in some measure shares my notions, if not my fears, for, after an attentive examination of the crowbar, he cast his eyes rapidly over the mighty and mysterious ocean. "what could possess him to leave the land," i thought, "as if the depth of this water was of any importance to us. no doubt he has disturbed some terrible monster in his watery home, and perhaps we may pay dearly for our temerity." anxious to be prepared for the worst, i examined our weapons, and saw that they were in a fit state for use. my uncle looked on at me and nodded his head approvingly. he, too, has noticed what we have to fear. already the uplifting of the waters on the surface indicates that something is in motion below. the danger approaches. it comes nearer and nearer. it behooves us to be on the watch. tuesday, august th. evening came at last, the hour when the desire for sleep caused our eyelids to be heavy. night there is not, properly speaking, in this place, any more than there is in summer in the arctic regions. hans, however, is immovable at the rudder. when he snatches a moment of rest i really cannot say. i take advantage of his vigilance to take some little repose. but two hours after i was awakened from a heavy sleep by an awful shock. the raft appeared to have struck upon a sunken rock. it was lifted right out of the water by some wondrous and mysterious power, and then started off twenty fathoms distant. "eh, what is it?" cried my uncle starting up. "are we shipwrecked, or what?" hans raised his hand and pointed to where, about two hundred yards off, a large black mass was moving up and down. i looked with awe. my worst fears were realized. "it is a colossal monster!" i cried, clasping my hands. "yes," cried the agitated professor, "and there yonder is a huge sea lizard of terrible size and shape." "and farther on behold a prodigious crocodile. look at his hideous jaws, and that row of monstrous teeth. ha! he has gone." "a whale! a whale!" shouted the professor, "i can see her enormous fins. see, see, how she blows air and water!" two liquid columns rose to a vast height above the level of the sea, into which they fell with a terrific crash, waking up the echoes of that awful place. we stood still--surprised, stupefied, terror-stricken at the sight of this group of fearful marine monsters, more hideous in the reality than in my dream. they were of supernatural dimensions; the very smallest of the whole party could with ease have crushed our raft and ourselves with a single bite. hans, seizing the rudder which had flown out of his hand, puts it hard aweather in order to escape from such dangerous vicinity; but no sooner does he do so, than he finds he is flying from scylla to charybdis. to leeward is a turtle about forty feet wide, and a serpent quite as long, with an enormous and hideous head peering from out the waters. look which way we will, it is impossible for us to fly. the fearful reptiles advanced upon us; they turned and twisted about the raft with awful rapidity. they formed around our devoted vessel a series of concentric circles. i took up my rifle in desperation. but what effect can a rifle ball produce upon the armor scales with which the bodies of these horrid monsters are covered? we remain still and dumb from utter horror. they advance upon us, nearer and nearer. our fate appears certain, fearful and terrible. on one side the mighty crocodile, on the other the great sea serpent. the rest of the fearful crowd of marine prodigies have plunged beneath the briny waves and disappeared! i am about to fire at any risk and try the effect of a shot. hans, the guide, however, interfered by a sign to check me. the two hideous and ravenous monsters passed within fifty fathoms of the raft, and then made a rush at one another--their fury and rage preventing them from seeing us. the combat commenced. we distinctly made out every action of the two hideous monsters. but to my excited imagination the other animals appeared about to take part in the fierce and deadly struggle--the monster, the whale, the lizard, and the turtle. i distinctly saw them every moment. i pointed them out to the icelander. but he only shook his head. "tva," he said. "what--two only does he say. surely he is mistaken," i cried in a tone of wonder. "he is quite right," replied my uncle coolly and philosophically, examining the terrible duel with his telescope and speaking as if he were in a lecture room. "how can that be?" "yes, it is so. the first of these hideous monsters has the snout of a porpoise, the head of a lizard, the teeth of a crocodile; and it is this that has deceived us. it is the most fearful of all antediluvian reptiles, the world--renowned ichthyosaurus or great fish lizard." "and the other?" "the other is a monstrous serpent, concealed under the hard vaulted shell of the turtle, the terrible enemy of its fearful rival, the plesiosaurus, or sea crocodile." hans was quite right. the two monsters only, disturbed the surface of the sea! at last have mortal eyes gazed upon two reptiles of the great primitive ocean! i see the flaming red eyes of the ichthyosaurus, each as big, or bigger than a man's head. nature in its infinite wisdom had gifted this wondrous marine animal with an optical apparatus of extreme power, capable of resisting the pressure of the heavy layers of water which rolled over him in the depths of the ocean where he usually fed. it has by some authors truly been called the whale of the saurian race, for it is as big and quick in its motions as our king of the seas. this one measures not less than a hundred feet in length, and i can form some idea of his girth when i see him lift his prodigious tail out of the waters. his jaw is of awful size and strength, and according to the best-informed naturalists, it does not contain less than a hundred and eighty-two teeth. the other was the mighty plesiosaurus, a serpent with a cylindrical trunk, with a short stumpy tail, with fins like a bank of oars in a roman galley. its whole body covered by a carapace or shell, and its neck, as flexible as that of a swan, rose more than thirty feet above the waves, a tower of animated flesh! these animals attacked one another with inconceivable fury. such a combat was never seen before by mortal eyes, and to us who did see it, it appeared more like the phantasmagoric creation of a dream than anything else. they raised mountains of water, which dashed in spray over the raft, already tossed to and fro by the waves. twenty times we seemed on the point of being upset and hurled headlong into the waves. hideous hisses appeared to shake the gloomy granite roof of that mighty cavern--hisses which carried terror to our hearts. the awful combatants held each other in a tight embrace. i could not make out one from the other. still the combat could not last forever; and woe unto us, whichsoever became the victor. one hour, two hours, three hours passed away, without any decisive result. the struggle continued with the same deadly tenacity, but without apparent result. the deadly opponents now approached, now drew away from the raft. once or twice we fancied they were about to leave us altogether, but instead of that, they came nearer and nearer. we crouched on the raft ready to fire at them at a moment's notice, poor as the prospect of hurting or terrifying them was. still we were determined not to perish without a struggle. suddenly the ichthyosaurus and the plesiosaurus disappeared beneath the waves, leaving behind them a maelstrom in the midst of the sea. we were nearly drawn down by the indraft of the water! several minutes elapsed before anything was again seen. was this wonderful combat to end in the depths of the ocean? was the last act of this terrible drama to take place without spectators? it was impossible for us to say. suddenly, at no great distance from us, an enormous mass rises out of the waters--the head of the great plesiosaurus. the terrible monster is now wounded unto death. i can see nothing now of his enormous body. all that could be distinguished was his serpent-like neck, which he twisted and curled in all the agonies of death. now he struck the waters with it as if it had been a gigantic whip, and then again wriggled like a worm cut in two. the water was spurted up to a great distance in all directions. a great portion of it swept over our raft and nearly blinded us. but soon the end of the beast approached nearer and nearer; his movements slackened visibly; his contortions almost ceased; and at last the body of the mighty snake lay an inert, dead mass on the surface of the now calm and placid waters. as for the ichthyosaurus, has he gone down to his mighty cavern under the sea to rest, or will he reappear to destroy us? this question remained unanswered. and we had breathing time. chapter the sea monster wednesday, august th. fortunately the wind, which for the present blows with some violence, has allowed us to escape from the scene of the unparalleled and extraordinary struggle. hans with his usual imperturbable calm remained at the helm. my uncle, who for a short time had been withdrawn from his absorbing reveries by the novel incidents of this sea fight, fell back again apparently into a brown study. his eyes were fixed impatiently on the widespread ocean. our voyage now became monotonous and uniform. dull as it has become, i have no desire to have it broken by any repetition of the perils and adventures of yesterday. thursday, august th. the wind is now n. n. e., and blows very irregularly. it has changed to fitful gusts. the temperature is exceedingly high. we are now progressing at the average rate of about ten miles and a half per hour. about twelve o'clock a distant sound as of thunder fell upon our ears. i make a note of the fact without even venturing a suggestion as to its cause. it was one continued roar as of a sea falling over mighty rocks. "far off in the distance," said the professor dogmatically, "there is some rock or some island against which the sea lashed to fury by the wind, is breaking violently." hans, without saying a word, clambered to the top of the mast, but could make out nothing. the ocean was level in every direction as far as the eye could reach. three hours passed away without any sign to indicate what might be before us. the sound began to assume that of a mighty cataract. i expressed my opinion on this point strongly to my uncle. he merely shook his head. i, however, am strongly impressed by a conviction that i am not wrong. are we advancing towards some mighty waterfall which shall cast us into the abyss? probably this mode of descending into the abyss may be agreeable to the professor, because it would be something like the vertical descent he is so eager to make. i entertain a very different opinion. whatever be the truth, it is certain that not many leagues distant there must be some very extraordinary phenomenon, for as we advance the roar becomes something mighty and stupendous. is it in the water, or in the air? i cast hasty glances aloft at the suspended vapors, and i seek to penetrate their mighty depths. but the vault above is tranquil. the clouds, which are now elevated to the very summit, appear utterly still and motionless, and completely lost in the irradiation of electric light. it is necessary, therefore, to seek for the cause of this phenomenon elsewhere. i examine the horizon, now perfectly calm, pure, and free from all haze. its aspect still remains unchanged. but if this awful noise proceeds from a cataract--if, so to speak in plain english, this vast interior ocean is precipitated into a lower basin--if these tremendous roars are produced by the noise of falling waters, the current would increase in activity, and its increasing swiftness would give me some idea of the extent of the peril with which we are menaced. i consult the current. it simply does not exist: there is no such thing. an empty bottle cast into the water lies to leeward without motion. about four o'clock hans rises, clambers up the mast, and reaches the truck itself. from this elevated position his looks are cast around. they take in a vast circumference of the ocean. at last, his eyes remain fixed. his face expresses no astonishment, but his eyes slightly dilate. "he has seen something at last," cried my uncle. "i think so," i replied. hans came down, stood beside us, and pointed with his right hand to the south. "der nere," he said. "there," replied my uncle. and seizing his telescope, he looked at it with great attention for about a minute, which to me appeared an age. i knew not what to think or expect. "yes, yes," he cried in a tone of considerable surprise, "there it is." "what?" i asked. "a tremendous spurt of water rising out of the waves." "some other marine monster," i cried, already alarmed. "perhaps." "then let us steer more to the westward, for we know what we have to expect from antediluvian animals," was my eager reply. "go ahead," said my uncle. i turned towards hans. hans was at the tiller steering with his usual imperturbable calm. nevertheless, if from the distance which separated us from this creature, a distance which must be estimated at not less than a dozen leagues, one could see the column of water spurting from the blow-hole of the great animal, his dimensions must be something preternatural. to fly is, therefore, the course to be suggested by ordinary prudence. but we have not come into that part of the world to be prudent. such is my uncle's determination. we, accordingly, continued to advance. the nearer we come, the loftier is the spouting water. what monster can fill himself with such huge volumes of water, and then unceasingly spout them out in such lofty jets? at eight o'clock in the evening, reckoning as above ground, where there is day and night, we are not more than two leagues from the mighty beast. its long, black, enormous, mountainous body, lies on the top of the water like an island. but then sailors have been said to have gone ashore on sleeping whales, mistaking them for land. is it illusion, or is it fear? its length cannot be less than a thousand fathoms. what, then, is this cetaceous monster of which no cuvier ever thought? it is quite motionless and presents the appearance of sleep. the sea seems unable to lift him upwards; it is rather the waves which break on his huge and gigantic frame. the waterspout, rising to a height of five hundred feet, breaks in spray with a dull, sullen roar. we advance, like senseless lunatics, towards this mighty mass. i honestly confess that i was abjectly afraid. i declared that i would go no farther. i threatened in my terror to cut the sheet of the sail. i attacked the professor with considerable acrimony, calling him foolhardy, mad, i know not what. he made no answer. suddenly the imperturbable hans once more pointed his finger to the menacing object: "<i>holme</i>!" "an island!" cried my uncle. "an island?" i replied, shrugging my shoulders at this poor attempt at deception. "of course it is," cried my uncle, bursting into a loud and joyous laugh. "but the waterspout?" "geyser," said hans. "yes, of course--a geyser," replied my uncle, still laughing, "a geyser like those common in iceland. jets like this are the great wonders of the country." at first i would not allow that i had been so grossly deceived. what could be more ridiculous than to have taken an island for a marine monster? but kick as one may, one must yield to evidence, and i was finally convinced of my error. it was nothing, after all, but a natural phenomenon. as we approached nearer and nearer, the dimensions of the liquid sheaf of waters became truly grand and stupendous. the island had, at a distance, presented the appearance of an enormous whale, whose head rose high above the waters. the geyser, a word the icelanders pronounce geysir, and which signifies fury, rose majestically from its summit. dull detonations are heard every now and then, and the enormous jet, taken as it were with sudden fury, shakes its plume of vapor, and bounds into the first layer of the clouds. it is alone. neither spurts of vapor nor hot springs surround it, and the whole volcanic power of that region is concentrated in one sublime column. the rays of electric light mix with this dazzling sheaf, every drop as it falls assuming the prismatic colors of the rainbow. "let us go on shore," said the professor, after some minutes of silence. it is necessary, however, to take great precaution, in order to avoid the weight of falling waters, which would cause the raft to founder in an instant. hans, however, steers admirably, and brings us to the other extremity of the island. i was the first to leap on the rock. my uncle followed, while the eider-duck hunter remained still, like a man above any childish sources of astonishment. we were now walking on granite mixed with siliceous sandstone; the soil shivered under our feet like the sides of boilers in which over-heated steam is forcibly confined. it is burning. we soon came in sight of the little central basin from which rose the geyser. i plunged a thermometer into the water which ran bubbling from the centre, and it marked a heat of a hundred and sixty-three degrees! this water, therefore, came from some place where the heat was intense. this was singularly in contradiction with the theories of professor hardwigg. i could not help telling him my opinion on the subject. "well," said he sharply, "and what does this prove against my doctrine?" "nothing," replied i dryly, seeing that i was running my head against a foregone conclusion. nevertheless, i am compelled to confess that until now we have been most remarkably fortunate, and that this voyage is being accomplished in most favorable conditions of temperature; but it appears evident, in fact, certain, that we shall sooner or later arrive at one of those regions where the central heat will reach its utmost limits, and will go far beyond all the possible gradations of thermometers. visions of the hades of the ancients, believed to be in the centre of the earth, floated through my imagination. we shall, however, see what we shall see. that is the professor's favorite phrase now. having christened the volcanic island by the name of his nephew, the leader of the expedition turned away and gave the signal for embarkation. i stood still, however, for some minutes, gazing upon the magnificent geyser. i soon was able to perceive that the upward tendency of the water was irregular; now it diminished in intensity, and then, suddenly, it regained new vigor, which i attributed to the variation of the pressure of the accumulated vapors in its reservoir. at last we took our departure, going carefully round the projecting, and rather dangerous, rocks of the southern side. hans had taken advantage of this brief halt to repair the raft. before we took our final departure from the island, however, i made some observations to calculate the distance we had gone over, and i put them down in my journal. since we left port gretchen, we had traveled two hundred and seventy leagues--more than eight hundred miles--on this great inland sea; we were, therefore, six hundred and twenty leagues from iceland, and exactly under england. chapter the battle of the elements friday, august st. this morning the magnificent geyser had wholly disappeared. the wind had freshened up, and we were fast leaving the neighborhood of henry's island. even the roaring sound of the mighty column was lost to the ear. the weather, if, under the circumstances, we may use such an expression, is about to change very suddenly. the atmosphere is being gradually loaded with vapors, which carry with them the electricity formed by the constant evaporation of the saline waters; the clouds are slowly but sensibly falling towards the sea, and are assuming a dark-olive texture; the electric rays can scarcely pierce through the opaque curtain which has fallen like a drop scene before this wondrous theater, on the stage of which another and terrible drama is soon to be enacted. this time it is no fight of animals; it is the fearful battle of the elements. i feel that i am very peculiarly influenced, as all creatures are on land when a deluge is about to take place. the cumuli, a perfectly oval kind of cloud, piled upon the south, presented a most awful and sinister appearance, with the pitiless aspect often seen before a storm. the air is extremely heavy; the sea is comparatively calm. in the distance, the clouds have assumed the appearance of enormous balls of cotton, or rather pods, piled one above the other in picturesque confusion. by degrees, they appear to swell out, break, and gain in number what they lose in grandeur; their heaviness is so great that they are unable to lift themselves from the horizon; but under the influence of the upper currents of air, they are gradually broken up, become much darker, and then present the appearance of one single layer of a formidable character; now and then a lighter cloud, still lit up from above, rebounds upon this grey carpet, and is lost in the opaque mass. there can be no doubt that the entire atmosphere is saturated with electric fluid; i am myself wholly impregnated; my hairs literally stand on end as if under the influence of a galvanic battery. if one of my companions ventured to touch me, i think he would receive rather a violent and unpleasant shock. about ten o'clock in the morning, the symptoms of the storm became more thorough and decisive; the wind appeared to soften down as if to take breath for a renewed attack; the vast funereal pall above us looked like a huge bag--like the cave of aeolus, in which the storm was collecting its forces for the attack. i tried all i could not to believe in the menacing signs of the sky, and yet i could not avoid saying, as it were involuntarily: "i believe we are going to have bad weather." the professor made me no answer. he was in a horrible, in a detestable humor--to see the ocean stretching interminably before his eyes. on hearing my words he simply shrugged his shoulders. "we shall have a tremendous storm," i said again, pointing to the horizon. "these clouds are falling lower and lower upon the sea, as if to crush it." a great silence prevailed. the wind wholly ceased. nature assumed a dead calm, and ceased to breathe. upon the mast, where i noticed a sort of slight ignis fatuus, the sail hangs in loose heavy folds. the raft is motionless in the midst of a dark heavy sea--without undulation, without motion. it is as still as glass. but as we are making no progress, what is the use of keeping up the sail, which may be the cause of our perdition if the tempest should suddenly strike us without warning. "let us lower the sail," i said, "it is only an act of common prudence." "no--no," cried my uncle, in an exasperated tone, "a hundred times, no. let the wind strike us and do its worst, let the storm sweep us away where it will--only let me see the glimmer of some coast--of some rocky cliffs, even if they dash our raft into a thousand pieces. no! keep up the sail--no matter what happens." these words were scarcely uttered when the southern horizon underwent a sudden and violent change. the long accumulated vapors were resolved into water, and the air required to fill up the void produced became a wild and raging tempest. it came from the most distant corners of the mighty cavern. it raged from every point of the compass. it roared; it yelled; it shrieked with glee as of demons let loose. the darkness increased and became indeed darkness visible. the raft rose and fell with the storm, and bounded over the waves. my uncle was cast headlong upon the deck. i with great difficulty dragged myself towards him. he was holding on with might and main to the end of a cable, and appeared to gaze with pleasure and delight at the spectacle of the unchained elements. hans never moved a muscle. his long hair driven hither and thither by the tempest and scattered wildly over his motionless face, gave him a most extraordinary appearance--for every single hair was illuminated by little sparkling sprigs. his countenance presents the extraordinary appearance of an antediluvian man, a true contemporary of the megatherium. still the mast holds good against the storm. the sail spreads out and fills like a soap bubble about to burst. the raft rushes on at a pace impossible to estimate, but still less swiftly than the body of water displaced beneath it, the rapidity of which may be seen by the lines which fly right and left in the wake. "the sail, the sail!" i cried, making a trumpet of my hands, and then endeavoring to lower it. "let it alone!" said my uncle, more exasperated than ever. "<i>nej</i>," said hans, gently shaking his head. nevertheless, the rain formed a roaring cataract before this horizon of which we were in search, and to which we were rushing like madmen. but before this wilderness of waters reached us, the mighty veil of cloud was torn in twain; the sea began to foam wildly; and the electricity, produced by some vast and extraordinary chemical action in the upper layer of cloud, is brought into play. to the fearful claps of thunder are added dazzling flashes of lightning, such as i had never seen. the flashes crossed one another, hurled from every side; while the thunder came pealing like an echo. the mass of vapor becomes incandescent; the hailstones which strike the metal of our boots and our weapons are actually luminous; the waves as they rise appear to be fire-eating monsters, beneath which seethes an intense fire, their crests surmounted by combs of flame. my eyes are dazzled, blinded by the intensity of light, my ears are deafened by the awful roar of the elements. i am compelled to hold onto the mast, which bends like a reed beneath the violence of the storm, to which none ever before seen by mariners bore any resemblance. * * * * * here my traveling notes become very incomplete, loose and vague. i have only been able to make out one or two fugitive observations, jotted down in a mere mechanical way. but even their brevity, even their obscurity, show the emotions which overcame me. * * * * * sunday, august rd. where have we got to? in what region are we wandering? we are still carried forward with inconceivable rapidity. the night has been fearful, something not to be described. the storm shows no signs of cessation. we exist in the midst of an uproar which has no name. the detonations as of artillery are incessant. our ears literally bleed. we are unable to exchange a word, or hear each other speak. the lightning never ceases to flash for a single instant. i can see the zigzags after a rapid dart strike the arched roof of this mightiest of mighty vaults. if it were to give way and fall upon us! other lightnings plunge their forked streaks in every direction, and take the form of globes of fire, which explode like bombshells over a beleaguered city. the general crash and roar do not apparently increase; it has already gone far beyond what human ear can appreciate. if all the powder magazines in the world were to explode together, it would be impossible for us to hear worse noise. there is a constant emission of light from the storm clouds; the electric matter is incessantly released; evidently the gaseous principles of the air are out of order; innumerable columns of water rush up like waterspouts, and fall back upon the surface of the ocean in foam. whither are we going? my uncle still lies at full length upon the raft, without speaking--without taking any note of time. the heat increases. i look at the thermometer, to my surprise it indicates--<i>the exact figure is here rubbed out in my manuscript.</i> monday, august th. this terrible storm will never end. why should not this state of the atmosphere, so dense and murky, once modified, again remain definitive? we are utterly broken and harassed by fatigue. hans remains just as usual. the raft runs to the southeast invariably. we have now already run two hundred leagues from the newly discovered island. about twelve o'clock the storm became worse than ever. we are obliged now to fasten every bit of cargo tightly on the deck of the raft, or everything would be swept away. we make ourselves fast, too, each man lashing the other. the waves drive over us, so that several times we are actually under water. we had been under the painful necessity of abstaining from speech for three days and three nights. we opened our mouths, we moved our lips, but no sound came. even when we placed our mouths to each other's ears it was the same. the wind carried the voice away. my uncle once contrived to get his head close to mine after several almost vain endeavors. he appeared to my nearly exhausted senses to articulate some word. i had a notion, more from intuition than anything else, that he said to me, "we are lost." i took out my notebook, from which under the most desperate circumstances i never parted, and wrote a few words as legibly as i could: "take in sail." with a deep sigh he nodded his head and acquiesced. his head had scarcely time to fall back in the position from which he had momentarily raised it than a disk or ball of fire appeared on the very edge of the raft--our devoted, our doomed craft. the mast and sail are carried away bodily, and i see them swept away to a prodigious height like a kite. we were frozen, actually shivered with terror. the ball of fire, half white, half azure-colored, about the size of a ten-inch bombshell, moved along, turning with prodigious rapidity to leeward of the storm. it ran about here, there, and everywhere, it clambered up one of the bulwarks of the raft, it leaped upon the sack of provisions, and then finally descended lightly, fell like a football and landed on our powder barrel. horrible situation. an explosion of course was now inevitable. by heaven's mercy, it was not so. the dazzling disk moved on one side, it approached hans, who looked at it with singular fixity; then it approached my uncle, who cast himself on his knees to avoid it; it came towards me, as i stood pale and shuddering in the dazzling light and heat; it pirouetted round my feet, which i endeavored to withdraw. an odor of nitrous gas filled the whole air; it penetrated to the throat, to the lungs. i felt ready to choke. why is it that i cannot withdraw my feet? are they riveted to the flooring of the raft? no. the fall of the electric globe has turned all the iron on board into loadstones--the instruments, the tools, the arms are clanging together with awful and horrible noise; the nails of my heavy boots adhere closely to the plate of iron incrustated in the wood. i cannot withdraw my foot. it is the old story again of the mountain of adamant. at last, by a violent and almost superhuman effort, i tear it away just as the ball which is still executing its gyratory motions is about to run round it and drag me with it--if-- oh, what intense stupendous light! the globe of fire bursts--we are enveloped in cascades of living fire, which flood the space around with luminous matter. then all went out and darkness once more fell upon the deep! i had just time to see my uncle once more cast apparently senseless on the flooring of the raft, hans at the helm, "spitting fire" under the influence of the electricity which seemed to have gone through him. whither are we going, i ask? and echo answers, whither? ............. tuesday, august th. i have just come out of a long fainting fit. the awful and hideous storm still continues; the lightning has increased in vividness, and pours out its fiery wrath like a brood of serpents let loose in the atmosphere. are we still upon the sea? yes, and being carried along with incredible velocity. we have passed under england, under the channel, under france, probably under the whole extent of europe. * * * * * another awful clamor in the distance. this time it is certain that the sea is breaking upon the rocks at no great distance. then-- .............. .............. chapter our route reversed here ends what i call "my journal" of our voyage on board the raft, which journal was happily saved from the wreck. i proceed with my narrative as i did before i commenced my daily notes. what happened when the terrible shock took place, when the raft was cast upon the rocky shore, it would be impossible for me now to say. i felt myself precipitated violently into the boiling waves, and if i escaped from a certain and cruel death, it was wholly owing to the determination of the faithful hans, who, clutching me by the arm, saved me from the yawning abyss. the courageous icelander then carried me in his powerful arms, far out of the reach of the waves, and laid me down upon a burning expanse of sand, where i found myself some time afterwards in the company of my uncle, the professor. then he quietly returned towards the fatal rocks, against which the furious waves were beating, in order to save any stray waifs from the wreck. this man was always practical and thoughtful. i could not utter a word; i was quite overcome with emotion; my whole body was broken and bruised with fatigue; it took hours before i was anything like myself. meanwhile, there fell a fearful deluge of rain, drenching us to the skin. its very violence, however, proclaimed the approaching end of the storm. some overhanging rocks afforded us a slight protection from the torrents. under this shelter, hans prepared some food, which, however, i was unable to touch; and, exhausted by the three weary days and nights of watching, we fell into a deep and painful sleep. my dreams were fearful, but at last exhausted nature asserted her supremacy, and i slumbered. next day when i awoke the change was magical. the weather was magnificent. air and sea, as if by mutual consent, had regained their serenity. every trace of the storm, even the faintest, had disappeared. i was saluted on my awakening by the first joyous tones i had heard from the professor for many a day. his gaiety, indeed, was something terrible. "well, my lad," he cried, rubbing his hands together, "have you slept soundly?" might it not have been supposed that we were in the old house on the konigstrasse; that i had just come down quietly to my breakfast; and that my marriage with gretchen was to take place that very day? my uncle's coolness was exasperating. alas, considering how the tempest had driven us in an easterly direction, we had passed under the whole of germany, under the city of hamburg where i had been so happy, under the very street which contained all i loved and cared for in the world. it was a positive fact that i was only separated from her by a distance of forty leagues. but these forty leagues were of hard, impenetrable granite! all these dreary and miserable reflections passed through my mind, before i attempted to answer my uncle's question. "why, what is the matter?" he cried. "cannot you say whether you have slept well or not?" "i have slept very well," was my reply, "but every bone in my body aches. i suppose that will lead to nothing." "nothing at all, my boy. it is only the result of the fatigue of the last few days--that is all." "you appear--if i may be allowed to say so--to be very jolly this morning," i said. "delighted, my dear boy, delighted. was never happier in my life. we have at last reached the wished-for port." "the end of our expedition?" cried i, in a tone of considerable surprise. "no; but to the confines of that sea which i began to fear would never end, but go round the whole world. we will now tranquilly resume our journey by land, and once again endeavor to dive into the centre of the earth." "my dear uncle," i began, in a hesitating kind of way, "allow me to ask you one question." "certainly, harry; a dozen if you think proper." "one will suffice. how about getting back?" i asked. "how about getting back? what a question to ask. we have not as yet reached the end of our journey." "i know that. all i want to know is how you propose we shall manage the return voyage?" "in the most simple manner in the world," said the imperturbable professor. "once we reach the exact centre of this sphere, either we shall find a new road by which to ascend to the surface, or we shall simply turn round and go back by the way we came. i have every reason to believe that while we are traveling forward, it will not close behind us." "then one of the first matters to see to will be to repair the raft," was my rather melancholy response. "of course. we must attend to that above all things," continued the professor. "then comes the all-important question of provisions," i urged. "have we anything like enough left to enable us to accomplish such great, such amazing, designs as you contemplate carrying out?" "i have seen into the matter, and my answer is in the affirmative. hans is a very clever fellow, and i have reason to believe that he has saved the greater part of the cargo. but the best way to satisfy your scruples is to come and judge for yourself." saying which, he led the way out of the kind of open grotto in which we had taken shelter. i had almost begun to hope that which i should rather have feared, and this was the impossibility of such a shipwreck leaving even the slightest signs of what it had carried as freight. i was, however, thoroughly mistaken. as soon as i reached the shores of this inland sea, i found hans standing gravely in the midst of a large number of things laid out in complete order. my uncle wrung his hands with deep and silent gratitude. his heart was too full for speech. this man, whose superhuman devotion to his employers i not only never saw surpassed, nor even equaled, had been hard at work all the time we slept, and at the risk of his life had succeeded in saving the most precious articles of our cargo. of course, under the circumstances, we necessarily experienced several severe losses. our weapons had wholly vanished. but experience had taught us to do without them. the provision of powder had, however, remained intact, after having narrowly escaped blowing us all to atoms in the storm. "well," said the professor, who was now ready to make the best of everything, "as we have no guns, all we have to do is to give up all idea of hunting." "yes, my dear sir, we can do without them, but what about all our instruments?" "here is the manometer, the most useful of all, and which i gladly accept in lieu of the rest. with it alone i can calculate the depth as we proceed; by its means alone i shall be able to decide when we have reached the centre of the earth. ha, ha! but for this little instrument we might make a mistake, and run the risk of coming out at the antipodes!" all this was said amid bursts of unnatural laughter. "but the compass," i cried, "without that what can we do?" "here it is, safe and sound!" he cried, with real joy, "ah, ah, and here we have the chronometer and the thermometers. hans the hunter is indeed an invaluable man!" it was impossible to deny this fact. as far as the nautical and other instruments were concerned, nothing was wanting. then on further examination, i found ladders, cords, pickaxes, crowbars, and shovels, all scattered about on the shore. there was, however, finally the most important question of all, and that was, provisions. "but what are we to do for food?" i asked. "let us see to the commissariat department", replied my uncle gravely. the boxes which contained our supply of food for the voyage were placed in a row along the strand, and were in a capital state of preservation; the sea had in every case respected their contents, and to sum up in one sentence, taking into consideration, biscuits, salt meat, schiedam and dried fish, we could still calculate on having about four months' supply, if used with prudence and caution. "four months," cried the sanguine professor in high glee. "then we shall have plenty of time both to go and to come, and with what remains i undertake to give a grand dinner to my colleagues of the johanneum." i sighed. i should by this time have become used to the temperament of my uncle, and yet this man astonished me more and more every day. he was the greatest human enigma i ever had known. "now," he, "before we do anything else, we must lay in a stock of fresh water. the rain has fallen in abundance, and filled the hollows of the granite. there is a rich supply of water, and we have no fear of suffering from thirst, which in our circumstances is of the last importance. as for the raft, i shall recommend hans to repair it to the best of his abilities; though i have every reason to believe we shall not require it again." "how is that?" i cried, more amazed than ever at my uncle's style of reasoning. "i have an idea, my dear boy; it is none other than this simple fact; we shall not come out by the same opening as that by which we entered." i began to look at my uncle with vague suspicion. an idea had more than once taken possession of me; and this was, that he was going mad. and yet, little did i think how true and prophetic his words were doomed to be. "and now," he said, "having seen to all these matters of detail, to breakfast." i followed him to a sort of projecting cape, after he had given his last instructions to our guide. in this original position, with dried meat, biscuit, and a delicious cup of tea, we made a satisfactory meal--i may say one of the most welcome and pleasant i ever remember. exhaustion, the keen atmosphere, the state of calm after so much agitation, all contributed to give me an excellent appetite. indeed, it contributed very much to producing a pleasant and cheerful state of mind. while breakfast was in hand, and between the sips of warm tea, i asked my uncle if he had any idea of how we now stood in relation to the world above. "for my part," i added, "i think it will be rather difficult to determine." "well, if we were compelled to fix the exact spot," said my uncle, "it might be difficult, since during the three days of that awful tempest i could keep no account either of the quickness of our pace, or of the direction in which the raft was going. still, we will endeavor to approximate to the truth. we shall not, i believe, be so very far out." "well, if i recollect rightly," i replied, "our last observation was made at the geyser island." "harry's island, my boy! harry's island. do not decline the honor of having named it; given your name to an island discovered by us, the first human beings who trod it since the creation of the world!" "let it be so, then. at harry's island we had already gone over two hundred and seventy leagues of sea, and we were, i believe, about six hundred leagues, more or less, from iceland." "good. i am glad to see that you remember so well. let us start from that point, and let us count four days of storm, during which our rate of traveling must have been very great. i should say that our velocity must have been about eighty leagues to the twenty-four hours." i agreed that i thought this a fair calculation. there were then three hundred leagues to be added to the grand total. "yes, and the central sea must extend at least six hundred leagues from side to side. do you know, my boy, harry, that we have discovered an inland lake larger than the mediterranean?" "certainly, and we only know of its extent in one way. it may be hundreds of miles in length." "very likely." "then," said i, after calculating for some for some minutes, "if your previsions are right, we are at this moment exactly under the mediterranean itself." "do you think so?" "yes, i am almost certain of it. are we not nine hundred leagues distant from reykjavik?" "that is perfectly true, and a famous bit of road we have traveled, my boy. but why we should be under the mediterranean more than under turkey or the atlantic ocean can only be known when we are sure of not having deviated from our course; and of this we know nothing." "i do not think we were driven very far from our course; the wind appears to me to have been always about the same. my opinion is that this shore must be situated to the southeast of port gretchen." "good--i hope so. it will, however, be easy to decide the matter by taking the bearings from our departure by means of the compass. come along, and we will consult that invaluable invention." the professor now walked eagerly in the direction of the rock where the indefatigable hans had placed the instruments in safety. my uncle was gay and lighthearted; he rubbed his hands, and assumed all sorts of attitudes. he was to all appearance once more a young man. since i had known him, never had he been so amiable and pleasant. i followed him, rather curious to know whether i had made any mistake in my estimation of our position. as soon as we had reached the rock, my uncle took the compass, placed it horizontally before him, and looked keenly at the needle. as he had at first shaken it to give it vivacity, it oscillated considerably, and then slowly assumed its right position under the influence of the magnetic power. the professor bent his eyes curiously over the wondrous instrument. a violent start immediately showed the extent of his emotion. he closed his eyes, rubbed them, and took another and a keener survey. then he turned slowly round to me, stupefaction depicted on his countenance. "what is the matter?" said i, beginning to be alarmed. he could not speak. he was too overwhelmed for words. he simply pointed to the instrument. i examined it eagerly according to his mute directions, and a loud cry of surprise escaped my lips. the needle of the compass pointed due north--in the direction we expected was the south! it pointed to the shore instead of to the high seas. i shook the compass; i examined it with a curious and anxious eye. it was in a state of perfection. no blemish in any way explained the phenomenon. whatever position we forced the needle into, it returned invariably to the same unexpected point. it was useless attempting to conceal from ourselves the fatal truth. there could be no doubt about it, unwelcome as was the fact, that during the tempest, there had been a sudden slant of wind, of which we had been unable to take any account, and thus the raft had carried us back to the shores we had left, apparently forever, so many days before! chapter a voyage of discovery it would be altogether impossible for me to give any idea of the utter astonishment which overcame the professor on making this extraordinary discovery. amazement, incredulity, and rage were blended in such a way as to alarm me. during the whole course of my life i had never seen a man at first so chapfallen; and then so furiously indignant. the terrible fatigues of our sea voyage, the fearful dangers we had passed through, had all, all, gone for nothing. we had to begin them all over again. instead of progressing, as we fondly expected, during a voyage of so many days, we had retreated. every hour of our expedition on the raft had been so much lost time! presently, however, the indomitable energy of my uncle overcame every other consideration. "so," he said, between his set teeth, "fatality will play me these terrible tricks. the elements themselves conspire to overwhelm me with mortification. air, fire, and water combine their united efforts to oppose my passage. well, they shall see what the earnest will of a determined man can do. i will not yield, i will not retreat even one inch; and we shall see who shall triumph in this great contest--man or nature." standing upright on a rock, irritated and menacing, professor hardwigg, like the ferocious ajax, seemed to defy the fates. i, however, took upon myself to interfere, and to impose some sort of check upon such insensate enthusiasm. "listen to me, uncle," i said, in a firm but temperate tone of voice, "there must be some limit to ambition here below. it is utterly useless to struggle against the impossible. pray listen to reason. we are utterly unprepared for a sea voyage; it is simply madness to think of performing a journey of five hundred leagues upon a wretched pile of beams, with a counterpane for a sail, a paltry stick for a mast, and a tempest to contend with. as we are totally incapable of steering our frail craft, we shall become the mere plaything of the storm, and it is acting the part of madmen if we, a second time, run any risk upon this dangerous and treacherous central sea." these are only a few of the reasons and arguments i put together--reasons and arguments which to me appeared unanswerable. i was allowed to go on without interruption for about ten minutes. the explanation to this i soon discovered. the professor was not even listening, and did not hear a word of all my eloquence. "to the raft!" he cried in a hoarse voice, when i paused for a reply. such was the result of my strenuous effort to resist his iron will. i tried again; i begged and implored him; i got into a passion; but i had to deal with a will more determined than my own. i seemed to feel like the waves which fought and battled against the huge mass of granite at our feet, which had smiled grimly for so many ages at their puny efforts. hans, meanwhile, without taking part in our discussion, had been repairing the raft. one would have supposed that he instinctively guessed at the further projects of my uncle. by means of some fragments of cordage, he had again made the raft seaworthy. while i had been speaking, he had hoisted a new mast and sail, the latter already fluttering and waving in the breeze. the worthy professor spoke a few words to our imperturbable guide, who immediately began to put our baggage on board and to prepare for our departure. the atmosphere was now tolerably clear and pure, and the northeast wind blew steadily and serenely. it appeared likely to last for some time. what, then, could i do? could i undertake to resist the iron will of two men? it was simply impossible if even i could have hoped for the support of hans. this, however, was out of the question. it appeared to me that the icelander had set aside all personal will and identity. he was a picture of abnegation. i could hope for nothing from one so infatuated with and devoted to his master. all i could do, therefore, was to swim with the stream. in a mood of stolid and sullen resignation, i was about to take my accustomed place on the raft when my uncle placed his hand upon my shoulder. "there is no hurry, my boy," he said, "we shall not start until tomorrow." i looked the picture of resignation to the dire will of fate. "under the circumstances," he said, "i ought to neglect no precautions. as fate has cast me upon these shores, i shall not leave without having completely examined them." in order to understand this remark, i must explain that though we had been driven back to the northern shore, we had landed at a very different spot from that which had been our starting point. port gretchen must, we calculated, be very much to the westward. nothing, therefore, was more natural and reasonable than that we should reconnoiter this new shore upon which we had so unexpectedly landed. "let us go on a journey of discovery," i cried. and leaving hans to his important operation, we started on our expedition. the distance between the foreshore at high water and the foot of the rocks was considerable. it would take about half an hour's walking to get from one to the other. as we trudged along, our feet crushed innumerable shells of every shape and size--once the dwelling place of animals of every period of creation. i particularly noticed some enormous shells--carapaces (turtle and tortoise species) the diameter of which exceeded fifteen feet. they had in past ages belonged to those gigantic glyptodons of the pliocene period, of which the modern turtle is but a minute specimen. in addition, the whole soil was covered by a vast quantity of stony relics, having the appearance of flints worn by the action of the waves, and lying in successive layers one above the other. i came to the conclusion that in past ages the sea must have covered the whole district. upon the scattered rocks, now lying far beyond its reach, the mighty waves of ages had left evident marks of their passage. on reflection, this appeared to me partially to explain the existence of this remarkable ocean, forty leagues below the surface of the earth's crust. according to my new, and perhaps fanciful, theory, this liquid mass must be gradually lost in the deep bowels of the earth. i had also no doubt that this mysterious sea was fed by infiltration of the ocean above, through imperceptible fissures. nevertheless, it was impossible not to admit that these fissures must now be nearly choked up, for if not, the cavern, or rather the immense and stupendous reservoir, would have been completely filled in a short space of time. perhaps even this water, having to contend against the accumulated subterraneous fires of the interior of the earth, had become partially vaporized. hence the explanation of those heavy clouds suspended over our heads, and the superabundant display of that electricity which occasioned such terrible storms in this deep and cavernous sea. this lucid explanation of the phenomena we had witnessed appeared to me quite satisfactory. however great and mighty the marvels of nature may seem to us, they are always to be explained by physical reasons. everything is subordinate to some great law of nature. it now appeared clear that we were walking upon a kind of sedimentary soil, formed like all the soils of that period, so frequent on the surface of the globe, by the subsidence of the waters. the professor, who was now in his element, carefully examined every rocky fissure. let him only find an opening and it directly became important to him to examine its depth. for a whole mile we followed the windings of the central sea, when suddenly an important change took place in the aspect of the soil. it seemed to have been rudely cast up, convulsionized, as it were, by a violent upheaving of the lower strata. in many places, hollows here and hillocks there attested great dislocations at some other period of the terrestrial mass. we advanced with great difficulty over the broken masses of granite mixed with flint, quartz, and alluvial deposits, when a large field, more even than a field, a plain of bones, appeared suddenly before our eyes! it looked like an immense cemetery, where generation after generation had mingled their mortal dust. lofty barrows of early remains rose at intervals. they undulated away to the limits of the distant horizon and were lost in a thick and brown fog. on that spot, some three square miles in extent, was accumulated the whole history of animal life--scarcely one creature upon the comparatively modern soil of the upper and inhabited world had not there existed. nevertheless, we were drawn forward by an all-absorbing and impatient curiosity. our feet crushed with a dry and crackling sound the remains of those prehistoric fossils, for which the museums of great cities quarrel, even when they obtain only rare and curious morsels. a thousand such naturalists as cuvier would not have sufficed to recompose the skeletons of the organic beings which lay in this magnificent osseous collection. i was utterly confounded. my uncle stood for some minutes with his arms raised on high towards the thick granite vault which served us for a sky. his mouth was wide open; his eyes sparkled wildly behind his spectacles (which he had fortunately saved), his head bobbed up and down and from side to side, while his whole attitude and mien expressed unbounded astonishment. he stood in the presence of an endless, wondrous, and inexhaustibly rich collection of antediluvian monsters, piled up for his own private and peculiar satisfaction. fancy an enthusiastic lover of books carried suddenly into the very midst of the famous library of alexandria burned by the sacrilegious omar, and which some miracle had restored to its pristine splendor! such was something of the state of mind in which uncle hardwigg was now placed. for some time he stood thus, literally aghast at the magnitude of his discovery. but it was even a greater excitement when, darting wildly over this mass of organic dust, he caught up a naked skull and addressed me in a quivering voice: "harry, my boy--harry--this is a human head!" "a human head, uncle!" i said, no less amazed and stupefied than himself. "yes, nephew. ah! mr. milne-edwards--ah! mr. de quatrefages--why are you not here where i am--i, professor hardwigg!" chapter discovery upon discovery in order fully to understand the exclamation made by my uncle, and his allusions to these illustrious and learned men, it will be necessary to enter into certain explanations in regard to a circumstance of the highest importance to paleontology, or the science of fossil life, which had taken place a short time before our departure from the upper regions of the earth. on the th of march, , some navigators under the direction of m. boucher de perthes, were at work in the great quarries of moulin-quignon, near abbeville, in the department of the somme, in france. while at work, they unexpectedly came upon a human jawbone buried fourteen feet below the surface of the soil. it was the first fossil of the kind that had ever been brought to the light of day. near this unexpected human relic were found stone hatchets and carved flints, colored and clothed by time in one uniform brilliant tint of verdigris. the report of this extraordinary and unexpected discovery spread not only all over france, but over england and germany. many learned men belonging to various scientific bodies, and noteworthy among others, messrs. milne-edwards and de quatrefages, took the affair very much to heart, demonstrated the incontestable authenticity of the bone in question, and became--to use the phrase then recognized in england--the most ardent supporters of the "jawbone question." to the eminent geologists of the united kingdom who looked upon the fact as certain--messrs. falconer, buck, carpenter, and others--were soon united the learned men of germany, and among those in the first rank, the most eager, the most enthusiastic, was my worthy uncle, professor hardwigg. the authenticity of a human fossil of the quaternary period seemed then to be incontestably demonstrated, and even to be admitted by the most skeptical. this system or theory, call it what you will, had, it is true, a bitter adversary in m. elie de beaumont. this learned man, who holds such a high place in the scientific world, holds that the soil of moulin-quignon does not belong to the diluvium but to a much less ancient stratum, and, in accordance with cuvier in this respect, he would by no means admit that the human species was contemporary with the animals of the quaternary epoch. my worthy uncle, professor hardwigg, in concert with the great majority of geologists, had held firm, had disputed, discussed, and finally, after considerable talking and writing, m. elie de beaumont had been pretty well left alone in his opinions. we were familiar with all the details of this discussion, but were far from being aware then that since our departure the matter had entered upon a new phase. other similar jawbones, though belonging to individuals of varied types and very different natures, had been found in the movable grey sands of certain grottoes in france, switzerland, and belgium; together with arms, utensils, tools, bones of children, of men in the prime of life, and of old men. the existence of men in the quaternary period became, therefore, more positive every day. but this was far from being all. new remains, dug up from the pliocene or tertiary deposits, had enabled the more far-seeing or audacious among learned men to assign even a far greater degree of antiquity to the human race. these remains, it is true, were not those of men; that is, were not the bones of men, but objects decidedly having served the human race: shinbones, thighbones of fossil animals, regularly scooped out, and in fact sculptured--bearing the unmistakable signs of human handiwork. by means of these wondrous and unexpected discoveries, man ascended endless centuries in the scale of time; he, in fact, preceded the mastodon; became the contemporary of the <i>elephas meridionalis</i>--the southern elephant; acquired an antiquity of over a hundred thousand years, since that is the date given by the most eminent geologists to the pliocene period of the earth. such was then the state of paleontologic science, and what we moreover knew sufficed to explain our attitude before this great cemetery of the plains of the hardwigg ocean. it will now be easy to understand the professor's mingled astonishment and joy when, on advancing about twenty yards, he found himself in the presence of, i may say face to face with, a specimen of the human race actually belonging to the quaternary period! it was indeed a human skull, perfectly recognizable. had a soil of very peculiar nature, like that of the cemetery of st. michel at bordeaux, preserved it during countless ages? this was the question i asked myself, but which i was wholly unable to answer. but this head with stretched and parchmenty skin, with the teeth whole, the hair abundant, was before our eyes as in life! i stood mute, almost paralyzed with wonder and awe before this dread apparition of another age. my uncle, who on almost every occasion was a great talker, remained for a time completely dumfounded. he was too full of emotion for speech to be possible. after a while, however, we raised up the body to which the skull belonged. we stood it on end. it seemed, to our excited imaginations, to look at us with its terrible hollow eyes. after some minutes of silence, the man was vanquished by the professor. human instincts succumbed to scientific pride and exultation. professor hardwigg, carried away by his enthusiasm, forgot all the circumstances of our journey, the extraordinary position in which we were placed, the immense cavern which stretched far away over our heads. there can be no doubt that he thought himself at the institution addressing his attentive pupils, for he put on his most doctorial style, waved his hand, and began: "gentlemen, i have the honor on this auspicious occasion to present to you a man of the quaternary period of our globe. many learned men have denied his very existence, while other able persons, perhaps of even higher authority, have affirmed their belief in the reality of his life. if the st. thomases of paleontology were present, they would reverentially touch him with their fingers and believe in his existence, thus acknowledging their obstinate heresy. i know that science should be careful in relation to all discoveries of this nature. i am not without having heard of the many barnums and other quacks who have made a trade of suchlike pretended discoveries. i have, of course, heard of the discovery of the kneebones of ajax, of the pretended finding of the body of orestes by the spartiates, and of the body of asterius, ten spans long, fifteen feet--of which we read in pausanias. "i have read everything in relation to the skeleton of trapani, discovered in the fourteenth century, and which many persons chose to regard as that of polyphemus, and the history of the giant dug up during the sixteenth century in the environs of palmyra. you are well aware as i am, gentlemen, of the existence of the celebrated analysis made near lucerne, in , of the great bones which the celebrated doctor felix plater declared belonged to a giant about nineteen feet high. i have devoured all the treatises of cassanion, and all those memoirs, pamphlets, speeches, and replies published in reference to the skeleton of teutobochus, king of the cimbri, the invader of gaul, dug out of a gravel pit in dauphine, in . in the eighteenth century i should have denied, with peter campet, the existence of the preadamites of scheuchzer. i have had in my hands the writing called gigans--" here my uncle was afflicted by the natural infirmity which prevented him from pronouncing difficult words in public. it was not exactly stuttering, but a strange sort of constitutional hesitation. "the writing named gigans--" he repeated. he, however, could get no further. "giganteo--" impossible! the unfortunate word would not come out. there would have been great laughter at the institution, had the mistake happened there. "gigantosteology!" at last exclaimed professor hardwigg between two savage growls. having got over our difficulty, and getting more and more excited-- "yes, gentlemen, i am well acquainted with all these matters, and know, also, that cuvier and blumenbach fully recognized in these bones the undeniable remains of mammoths of the quaternary period. but after what we now see, to allow a doubt is to insult scientific inquiry. there is the body; you can see it; you can touch it. it is not a skeleton, it is a complete and uninjured body, preserved with an anthropological object." i did not attempt to controvert this singular and astounding assertion. "if i could but wash this corpse in a solution of sulphuric acid," continued my uncle, "i would undertake to remove all the earthy particles, and these resplendent shells, which are incrusted all over this body. but i am without this precious dissolving medium. nevertheless, such as it is, this body will tell its own history." here the professor held up the fossil body, and exhibited it with rare dexterity. no professional showman could have shown more activity. "as on examination you will see," my uncle continued, "it is only about six feet in length, which is a long way from the pretended giants of early days. as to the particular race to which it belonged, it is incontestably caucasian. it is of the white race, that is, of our own. the skull of this fossil being is a perfect ovoid without any remarkable or prominent development of the cheekbones, and without any projection of the jaw. it presents no indication of the prognathism which modifies the facial angle.[ ] measure the angle for yourselves, and you will find that it is just ninety degrees. but i will advance still farther on the road of inquiry and deduction, and i dare venture to say that this human sample or specimen belongs to the japhetic family, which spread over the world from india to the uttermost limits of western europe. there is no occasion, gentlemen, to smile at my remarks." [ ] the facial angle is formed by two planes--one more or less vertical which is in a straight line with the forehead and the incisors; the other, horizontal, which passes through the organs of hearing, and the lower nasal bone. prognathism, in anthropological language, means that particular projection of the jaw which modifies the facial angle. of course nobody smiled. but the excellent professor was so accustomed to beaming countenances at his lectures, that he believed he saw all his audience laughing during the delivery of his learned dissertation. "yes," he continued, with renewed animation, "this is a fossil man, a contemporary of the mastodons, with the bones of which this whole amphitheater is covered. but if i am called on to explain how he came to this place, how these various strata by which he is covered have fallen into this vast cavity, i can undertake to give you no explanation. doubtless, if we carry ourselves back to the quaternary epoch, we shall find that great and mighty convulsions took place in the crust of the earth; the continually cooling operation, through which the earth had to pass, produced fissures, landslips, and chasms, through which a large portion of the earth made its way. i come to no absolute conclusion, but there is the man, surrounded by the works of his hands, his hatchets and his carved flints, which belong to the stony period; and the only rational supposition is, that, like myself, he visited the centre of the earth as a traveling tourist, a pioneer of science. at all events, there can be no doubt of his great age, and of his being one of the oldest race of human beings." the professor with these words ceased his oration, and i burst forth into loud and "unanimous" applause. besides, after all, my uncle was right. much more learned men than his nephew would have found it rather hard to refute his facts and arguments. another circumstance soon presented itself. this fossilized body was not the only one in this vast plain of bones--the cemetery of an extinct world. other bodies were found, as we trod the dusty plain, and my uncle was able to choose the most marvelous of these specimens in order to convince the most incredulous. in truth, it was a surprising spectacle, the successive remains of generations and generations of men and animals confounded together in one vast cemetery. but a great question now presented itself to our notice, and one we were actually afraid to contemplate in all its bearings. had these once animated beings been buried so far beneath the soil by some tremendous convulsion of nature, after they had been earth to earth and ashes to ashes, or had they lived here below, in this subterranean world, under this factitious sky, borne, married, and given in marriage, and died at last, just like ordinary inhabitants of the earth? up to the present moment, marine monsters, fish, and suchlike animals had alone been seen alive! the question which rendered us rather uneasy, was a pertinent one. were any of these men of the abyss wandering about the deserted shores of this wondrous sea of the centre of the earth? this was a question which rendered me very uneasy and uncomfortable. how, should they really be in existence, would they receive us men from above? chapter what is it? for a long and weary hour we tramped over this great bed of bones. we advanced regardless of everything, drawn on by ardent curiosity. what other marvels did this great cavern contain--what other wondrous treasures for the scientific man? my eyes were quite prepared for any number of surprises, my imagination lived in expectation of something new and wonderful. the borders of the great central ocean had for some time disappeared behind the hills that were scattered over the ground occupied by the plain of bones. the imprudent and enthusiastic professor, who did not care whether he lost himself or not, hurried me forward. we advanced silently, bathed in waves of electric fluid. by reason of a phenomenon which i cannot explain, and thanks to its extreme diffusion, now complete, the light illumined equally the sides of every hill and rock. its seat appeared to be nowhere, in no determined force, and produced no shade whatever. the appearance presented was that of a tropical country at midday in summer--in the midst of the equatorial regions and under the vertical rays of the sun. all signs of vapor had disappeared. the rocks, the distant mountains, some confused masses of far-off forests, assumed a weird and mysterious aspect under this equal distribution of the luminous fluid! we resembled, to a certain extent, the mysterious personage in one of hoffmann's fantastic tales--the man who lost his shadow. after we had walked about a mile farther, we came to the edge of a vast forest not, however, one of the vast mushroom forests we had discovered near port gretchen. it was the glorious and wild vegetation of the tertiary period, in all its superb magnificence. huge palms, of a species now unknown, superb palmacites--a genus of fossil palms from the coal formation--pines, yews, cypress, and conifers or cone-bearing trees, the whole bound together by an inextricable and complicated mass of creeping plants. a beautiful carpet of mosses and ferns grew beneath the trees. pleasant brooks murmured beneath umbrageous boughs, little worthy of this name, for no shade did they give. upon their borders grew small treelike shrubs, such as are seen in the hot countries on our own inhabited globe. the one thing wanting in these plants, these shrubs, these trees--was color! forever deprived of the vivifying warmth of the sun, they were vapid and colorless. all shade was lost in one uniform tint, of a brown and faded character. the leaves were wholly devoid of verdure, and the flowers, so numerous during the tertiary period which gave them birth, were without color and without perfume, something like paper discolored by long exposure to the atmosphere. my uncle ventured beneath the gigantic groves. i followed him, though not without a certain amount of apprehension. since nature had shown herself capable of producing such stupendous vegetable supplies, why might we not meet with mammals just as large, and therefore dangerous? i particularly remarked, in the clearings left by trees that had fallen and been partially consumed by time, many leguminous (beanlike) shrubs, such as the maple and other eatable trees, dear to ruminating animals. then there appeared confounded together and intermixed, the trees of such varied lands, specimens of the vegetation of every part of the globe; there was the oak near the palm tree, the australian eucalyptus, an interesting class of the order myrtaceae--leaning against the tall norwegian pine, the poplar of the north, mixing its branches with those of the new zealand kauris. it was enough to drive the most ingenious classifier of the upper regions out of his mind, and to upset all his received ideas about botany. suddenly i stopped short and restrained my uncle. the extreme diffuseness of the light enabled me to see the smallest objects in the distant copses. i thought i saw--no, i really did see with my own eyes--immense, gigantic animals moving about under the mighty trees. yes, they were truly gigantic animals, a whole herd of mastodons, not fossils, but living, and exactly like those discovered in , on the marshy banks of the great ohio, in north america. yes, i could see these enormous elephants, whose trunks were tearing down large boughs, and working in and out the trees like a legion of serpents. i could hear the sounds of the mighty tusks uprooting huge trees! the boughs crackled, and the whole masses of leaves and green branches went down the capacious throats of these terrible monsters! that wondrous dream, when i saw the antehistorical times revivified, when the tertiary and quaternary periods passed before me, was now realized! and there we were alone, far down in the bowels of the earth, at the mercy of its ferocious inhabitants! my uncle paused, full of wonder and astonishment. "come!" he said at last, when his first surprise was over, "come along, my boy, and let us see them nearer." "no," replied i, restraining his efforts to drag me forward, "we are wholly without arms. what should we do in the midst of that flock of gigantic quadrupeds? come away, uncle, i implore you. no human creature can with impunity brave the ferocious anger of these monsters." "no human creature," said my uncle, suddenly lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper, "you are mistaken, my dear henry. look! look yonder! it seems to me that i behold a human being--a being like ourselves--a man!" i looked, shrugging my shoulders, decided to push incredulity to its very last limits. but whatever might have been my wish, i was compelled to yield to the weight of ocular demonstration. yes--not more than a quarter of a mile off, leaning against the trunk of an enormous tree, was a human being--a proteus of these subterranean regions, a new son of neptune keeping this innumerable herd of mastodons. immanis pecoris custos, immanior ipse![ ] [ ] the keeper of gigantic cattle, himself still more gigantic! yes--it was no longer a fossil whose corpse we had raised from the ground in the great cemetery, but a giant capable of guiding and driving these prodigious monsters. his height was above twelve feet. his head, as big as the head of a buffalo, was lost in a mane of matted hair. it was indeed a huge mane, like those which belonged to the elephants of the earlier ages of the world. in his hand was a branch of a tree, which served as a crook for this antediluvian shepherd. we remained profoundly still, speechless with surprise. but we might at any moment be seen by him. nothing remained for us but instant flight. "come, come!" i cried, dragging my uncle along; and, for the first time, he made no resistance to my wishes. a quarter of an hour later we were far away from that terrible monster! now that i think of the matter calmly, and that i reflect upon it dispassionately; now that months, years, have passed since this strange and unnatural adventure befell us--what am i to think, what am i to believe? no, it is utterly impossible! our ears must have deceived us, and our eyes have cheated us! we have not seen what we believed we had seen. no human being could by any possibility have existed in that subterranean world! no generation of men could inhabit the lower caverns of the globe without taking note of those who peopled the surface, without communication with them. it was folly, folly, folly! nothing else! i am rather inclined to admit the existence of some animal resembling in structure the human race--of some monkey of the first geological epochs, like that discovered by m. lartet in the ossiferous deposit of sansan. but this animal, or being, whichsoever it was, surpassed in height all things known to modern science. never mind. however unlikely it may be, it might have been a monkey--but a man, a living man, and with him a whole generation of gigantic animals, buried in the entrails of the earth--it was too monstrous to be believed! chapter the mysterious dagger during this time, we had left the bright and transparent forest far behind us. we were mute with astonishment, overcome by a kind of feeling which was next door to apathy. we kept running in spite of ourselves. it was a perfect right, which resembled one of those horrible sensations we sometimes meet with in our dreams. instinctively we made our way towards the central sea, and i cannot now tell what wild thoughts passed through my mind, nor of what follies i might have been guilty, but for a very serious preoccupation which brought me back to practical life. though i was aware that we were treading on a soil quite new to us, i, however, every now and then noticed certain aggregations of rock, the shape of which forcibly reminded me of those near port gretchen. this confirmed, moreover, the indications of the compass and our extraordinary and unlooked-for, as well as involuntary, return to the north of this great central sea. it was so like our starting point, that i could scarcely doubt the reality of our position. streams and cascades fell in hundreds over the numerous projections of the rocks. i actually thought i could see our faithful and monotonous hans and the wonderful grotto in which i had come back to life after my tremendous fall. then, as we advanced still farther, the position of the cliffs, the appearance of a stream, the unexpected profile of a rock, threw me again into a state of bewildering doubt. after some time, i explained my state of mental indecision to my uncle. he confessed to a similar feeling of hesitation. he was totally unable to make up his mind in the midst of this extraordinary but uniform panorama. "there can be no doubt," i insisted, "that we have not landed exactly at the place whence we first took our departure; but the tempest has brought us above our starting point. i think, therefore, that if we follow the coast we shall once more find port gretchen." "in that case," cried my uncle, "it is useless to continue our exploration. the very best thing we can do is to make our way back to the raft. are you quite sure, harry, that you are not mistaken?" "it is difficult," was my reply, "to come to any decision, for all these rocks are exactly alike. there is no marked difference between them. at the same time, the impression on my mind is that i recognize the promontory at the foot of which our worthy hans constructed the raft. we are, i am nearly convinced, near the little port: if this be not it," i added, carefully examining a creek which appeared singularly familiar to my mind. "my dear harry--if this were the case, we should find traces of our own footsteps, some signs of our passage; and i can really see nothing to indicate our having passed this way." "but i see something," i cried, in an impetuous tone of voice, as i rushed forward and eagerly picked up something which shone in the sand under my feet. "what is it?" cried the astonished and bewildered professor. "this," was my reply. and i handed to my startled relative a rusty dagger, of singular shape. "what made you bring with you so useless a weapon?" he exclaimed. "it was needlessly hampering yourself." "i bring it? it is quite new to me. i never saw it before--are you sure it is not out of your collection?" "not that i know of," said the professor, puzzled. "i have no recollection of the circumstance. it was never my property." "this is very extraordinary," i said, musing over the novel and singular incident. "not at all. there is a very simple explanation, harry. the icelanders are known to keep up the use of these antiquated weapons, and this must have belonged to hans, who has let it fall without knowing it." i shook my head. that dagger had never been in the possession of the pacific and taciturn hans. i knew him and his habits too well. "then what can it be--unless it be the weapon of some antediluvian warrior," i continued, "of some living man, a contemporary of that mighty shepherd from whom we have just escaped? but no--mystery upon mystery--this is no weapon of the stony epoch, nor even of the bronze period. it is made of excellent steel--" ere i could finish my sentence, my uncle stopped me short from entering upon a whole train of theories, and spoke in his most cold and decided tone of voice. "calm yourself, my dear boy, and endeavor to use your reason. this weapon, upon which we have fallen so unexpectedly, is a true <i>dague</i>, one of those worn by gentlemen in their belts during the sixteenth century. its use was to give the <i>coup de grace</i>, the final blow, to the foe who would not surrender. it is clearly of spanish workmanship. it belongs neither to you, nor to me, nor the eider-down hunter, nor to any of the living beings who may still exist so marvelously in the interior of the earth." "what can you mean, uncle?" i said, now lost in a host of surmises. "look closely at it," he continued; "these jagged edges were never made by the resistance of human blood and bone. the blade is covered with a regular coating of iron mold and rust, which is not a day old, not a year old, not a century old, but much more--" the professor began to get quite excited, according to custom, and was allowing himself to be carried away by his fertile imagination. i could have said something. he stopped me. "harry," he cried, "we are now on the verge of a great discovery. this blade of a dagger you have so marvelously discovered, after being abandoned upon the sand for more than a hundred, two hundred, even three hundred years, has been indented by someone endeavoring to carve an inscription on these rocks." "but this poniard never got here of itself," i exclaimed, "it could not have twisted itself. someone, therefore, must have preceded us upon the shores of this extraordinary sea." "yes, a man." "but what man has been sufficiently desperate to do such a thing?" "a man who has somewhere written his name with this very dagger--a man who has endeavored once more to indicate the right road to the interior of the earth. let us look around, my boy. you know not the importance of your singular and happy discovery." prodigiously interested, we walked along the wall of rock, examining the smallest fissures, which might finally expand into the much wished--for gully or shaft. we at last reached a spot where the shore became extremely narrow. the sea almost bathed the foot of the rocks, which were here very lofty and steep. there was scarcely a path wider than two yards at any point. at last, under a huge over-hanging rock, we discovered the entrance of a dark and gloomy tunnel. there, on a square tablet of granite, which had been smoothed by rubbing it with another stone, we could see two mysterious, and much worn letters, the two initials of the bold and extraordinary traveler who had preceded us on our adventurous journey. [illustration: runic glyph] "a. s.!" cried my uncle. "you see, i was right. arne saknussemm, always arne saknussemm!" chapter no outlet--blasting the rock ever since the commencement of our marvelous journey, i had experienced many surprises, had suffered from many illusions. i thought that i was case-hardened against all surprises and could neither see nor hear anything to amaze me again. i was like a many who, having been round the world, finds himself wholly blase and proof against the marvelous. when, however, i saw these two letters, which had been engraven three hundred years before, i stood fixed in an attitude of mute surprise. not only was there the signature of the learned and enterprising alchemist written in the rock, but i held in my hand the very identical instrument with which he had laboriously engraved it. it was impossible, without showing an amount of incredulity scarcely becoming a sane man, to deny the existence of the traveler, and the reality of that voyage which i believed all along to have been a myth--the mystification of some fertile brain. while these reflections were passing through my mind, my uncle, the professor, gave way to an access of feverish and poetical excitement. "wonderful and glorious genius, great saknussemm," he cried, "you have left no stone unturned, no resource omitted, to show to other mortals the way into the interior of our mighty globe, and your fellow creatures can find the trail left by your illustrious footsteps, three hundred years ago, at the bottom of these obscure subterranean abodes. you have been careful to secure for others the contemplation of these wonders and marvels of creation. your name engraved at every important stage of your glorious journey leads the hopeful traveler direct to the great and mighty discovery to which you devoted such energy and courage. the audacious traveler, who shall follow your footsteps to the last, will doubtless find your initials engraved with your own hand upon the centre of the earth. i will be that audacious traveler--i, too, will sign my name upon the very same spot, upon the central granite stone of this wondrous work of the creator. but in justice to your devotion, to your courage, and to your being the first to indicate the road, let this cape, seen by you upon the shores of this sea discovered by you, be called, of all time, cape saknussemm." this is what i heard, and i began to be roused to the pitch of enthusiasm indicated by those words. a fierce excitement roused me. i forgot everything. the dangers of the voyage and the perils of the return journey were now as nothing! what another man had done in ages past could, i felt, be done again; i was determined to do it myself, and now nothing that man had accomplished appeared to me impossible. "forward--forward," i cried in a burst of genuine and hearty enthusiasm. i had already started in the direction of the somber and gloomy gallery when the professor stopped me; he, the man so rash and hasty, he, the man so easily roused to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, checked me, and asked me to be patient and show more calm. "let us return to our good friend, hans," he said; "we will then bring the raft down to this place." i must say that though i at once yielded to my uncle's request, it was not without dissatisfaction, and i hastened along the rocks of that wonderful coast. "do you know, my dear uncle," i said, as we walked along, "that we have been singularly helped by a concurrence of circumstances, right up to this very moment." "so you begin to see it, do you, harry?" said the professor with a smile. "doubtless," i responded, "and strangely enough, even the tempest has been the means of putting us on the right road. blessings on the tempest! it brought us safely back to the very spot from which fine weather would have driven us forever. supposing we had succeeded in reaching the southern and distant shores of this extraordinary sea, what would have become of us? the name of saknussemm would never have appeared to us, and at this moment we should have been cast away upon an inhospitable coast, probably without an outlet." "yes, harry, my boy, there is certainly something providential in that wandering at the mercy of wind and waves towards the south: we have come back exactly north; and what is better still, we fall upon this great discovery of cape saknussemm. i mean to say, that it is more than surprising; there is something in it which is far beyond my comprehension. the coincidence is unheard of, marvelous!" "what matter! it is not our duty to explain facts, but to make the best possible use of them." "doubtless, my boy; but if you will allow me--" said the really delighted professor. "excuse me, sir, but i see exactly how it will be; we shall take the northern route; we shall pass under the northern regions of europe, under sweden, under russia, under siberia, and who knows where--instead of burying ourselves under the burning plains and deserts of africa, or beneath the mighty waves of the ocean; and that is all, at this stage of our journey, that i care to know. let us advance, and heaven will be our guide!" "yes, harry, you are right, quite right; all is for the best. let us abandon this horizontal sea, which could never have led to anything satisfactory. we shall descend, descend, and everlastingly descend. do you know, my dear boy, that to reach the interior of the earth we have only five thousand miles to travel!" "bah!" i cried, carried away by a burst of enthusiasm, "the distance is scarcely worth speaking about. the thing is to make a start." my wild, mad, and incoherent speeches continued until we rejoined our patient and phlegmatic guide. all was, we found, prepared for an immediate departure. there was not a single parcel but what was in its proper place. we all took up our posts on the raft, and the sail being hoisted, hans received his directions, and guided the frail bark towards cape saknussemm, as we had definitely named it. the wind was very unfavorable to a craft that was unable to sail close to the wind. it was constructed to go before the blast. we were continually reduced to pushing ourselves forward by means of poles. on several occasions the rocks ran far out into deep water and we were compelled to make a long round. at last, after three long and weary hours of navigation, that is to say, about six o'clock in the evening, we found a place at which we could land. i jumped on shore first. in my present state of excitement and enthusiasm, i was always first. my uncle and the icelander followed. the voyage from the port to this point of the sea had by no means calmed me. it had rather produced the opposite effect. i even proposed to burn our vessel, that is, to destroy our raft, in order to completely cut off our retreat. but my uncle sternly opposed this wild project. i began to think him particularly lukewarm and unenthusiastic. "at any rate, my dear uncle," i said, "let us start without delay." "yes, my boy, i am quite as eager to do so as you can be. but, in the first place, let us examine this mysterious gallery, in order to find if we shall need to prepare and mend our ladders." my uncle now began to see to the efficiency of our ruhmkorff coil, which would doubtless soon be needed; the raft, securely fastened to a rock, was left alone. moreover, the opening into the new gallery was not twenty paces distant from the spot. our little troop, with myself at the head, advanced. the orifice, which was almost circular, presented a diameter of about five feet; the somber tunnel was cut in the living rock, and coated on the inside by the different material which had once passed through it in a state of fusion. the lower part was about level with the water, so that we were able to penetrate to the interior without difficulty. we followed an almost horizontal direction; when, at the end of about a dozen paces, our further advance was checked by the interposition of an enormous block of granite rock. "accursed stone!" i cried furiously, on perceiving that we were stopped by what seemed an insurmountable obstacle. in vain we looked to the right, in vain we looked to the left; in vain examined it above and below. there existed no passage, no sign of any other tunnel. i experienced the most bitter and painful disappointment. so enraged was i that i would not admit the reality of any obstacle. i stooped to my knees; i looked under the mass of stone. no hole, no interstice. i then looked above. the same barrier of granite! hans, with the lamp, examined the sides of the tunnel in every direction. but all in vain! it was necessary to renounce all hope of passing through. i had seated myself upon the ground. my uncle walked angrily and hopelessly up and down. he was evidently desperate. "but," i cried, after some moments' thought, "what about arne saknussemm?" "you are right," replied my uncle, "he can never have been checked by a lump of rock." "no--ten thousand times no," i cried, with extreme vivacity. "this huge lump of rock, in consequence of some singular concussion, or process, one of those magnetic phenomena which have so often shaken the terrestrial crust, has in some unexpected way closed up the passage. many and many years have passed away since the return of saknussemm, and the fall of this huge block of granite. is it not quite evident that this gallery was formerly the outlet for the pent-up lava in the interior of the earth, and that these eruptive matters then circulated freely? look at these recent fissures in the granite roof; it is evidently formed of pieces of enormous stone, placed here as if by the hand of a giant, who had worked to make a strong and substantial arch. one day, after an unusually strong shock, the vast rock which stands in our way, and which was doubtless the key of a kind of arch, fell through to a level with the soil and has barred our further progress. we are right, then, in thinking that this is an unexpected obstacle, with which saknussemm did not meet; and if we do not upset it in some way, we are unworthy of following in the footsteps of the great discoverer; and incapable of finding our way to the centre of the earth!" in this wild way i addressed my uncle. the zeal of the professor, his earnest longing for success, had become part and parcel of my being. i wholly forgot the past; i utterly despised the future. nothing existed for me upon the surface of this spheroid in the bosom of which i was engulfed, no towns, no country, no hamburg, no koenigstrasse, not even my poor gretchen, who by this time would believe me utterly lost in the interior of the earth! "well," cried my uncle, roused to enthusiasm by my words, "let us go to work with pickaxes, with crowbars, with anything that comes to hand--but down with these terrible walls." "it is far too tough and too big to be destroyed by a pickax or crowbar," i replied. "what then?" "as i said, it is useless to think of overcoming such a difficulty by means of ordinary tools." "what then?" "what else but gunpowder, a subterranean mine? let us blow up the obstacle that stands in our way." "gunpowder!" "yes; all we have to do is to get rid of this paltry obstacle." "to work, hans, to work!" cried the professor. the icelander went back to the raft, and soon returned with a huge crowbar, with which he began to dig a hole in the rock, which was to serve as a mine. it was by no means a slight task. it was necessary for our purpose to make a cavity large enough to hold fifty pounds of fulminating gun cotton, the expansive power of which is four times as great as that of ordinary gunpowder. i had now roused myself to an almost miraculous state of excitement. while hans was at work, i actively assisted my uncle to prepare a long wick, made from damp gunpowder, the mass of which we finally enclosed in a bag of linen. "we are bound to go through," i cried, enthusiastically. "we are bound to go through," responded the professor, tapping me on the back. at midnight, our work as miners was completely finished; the charge of fulminating cotton was thrust into the hollow, and the match, which we had made of considerable length, was ready. a spark was now sufficient to ignite this formidable engine, and to blow the rock to atoms! "we will now rest until tomorrow." it was absolutely necessary to resign myself to my fate, and to consent to wait for the explosion for six weary hours! chapter 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. chapter the ape gigans it is difficult for me to determine what was the real time, but i should suppose, by after calculation, that it must have been ten at night. i lay in a stupor, a half dream, during which i saw visions of astounding character. monsters of the deep were side by side with the mighty elephantine shepherd. gigantic fish and animals seemed to form strange conjunctions. the raft took a sudden turn, whirled round, entered another tunnel--this time illumined in a most singular manner. the roof was formed of porous stalactite, through which a moonlit vapor appeared to pass, casting its brilliant light upon our gaunt and haggard figures. the light increased as we advanced, while the roof ascended; until at last, we were once more in a kind of water cavern, the lofty dome of which disappeared in a luminous cloud! a rugged cavern of small extent appeared to offer a halting place to our weary bodies. my uncle and the guide moved as men in a dream. i was afraid to waken them, knowing the danger of such a sudden start. i seated myself beside them to watch. as i did so, i became aware of something moving in the distance, which at once fascinated my eyes. it was floating, apparently, upon the surface of the water, advancing by means of what at first appeared paddles. i looked with glaring eyes. one glance told me that it was something monstrous. but what? it was the great "shark-crocodile" of the early writers on geology. about the size of an ordinary whale, with hideous jaws and two gigantic eyes, it advanced. its eyes fixed on me with terrible sternness. some indefinite warning told me that it had marked me for its own. i attempted to rise--to escape, no matter where, but my knees shook under me; my limbs trembled violently; i almost lost my senses. and still the mighty monster advanced. my uncle and the guide made no effort to save themselves. with a strange noise, like none other i had ever heard, the beast came on. his jaws were at least seven feet apart, and his distended mouth looked large enough to have swallowed a boatful of men. we were about ten feet distant when i discovered that much as his body resembled that of a crocodile, his mouth was wholly that of a shark. his twofold nature now became apparent. to snatch us up at a mouthful it was necessary for him to turn on his back, which motion necessarily caused his legs to kick up helplessly in the air. i actually laughed even in the very jaws of death! but next minute, with a wild cry, i darted away into the interior of the cave, leaving my unhappy comrades to their fate! this cavern was deep and dreary. after about a hundred yards, i paused and looked around. the whole floor, composed of sand and malachite, was strewn with bones, freshly gnawed bones of reptiles and fish, with a mixture of mammalia. my very soul grew sick as my body shuddered with horror. i had truly, according to the old proverb, fallen out of the frying pan into the fire. some beast larger and more ferocious even than the shark-crocodile inhabited this den. what could i do? the mouth of the cave was guarded by one ferocious monster, the interior was inhabited by something too hideous to contemplate. flight was impossible! only one resource remained, and that was to find some small hiding place to which the fearful denizens of the cavern could not penetrate. i gazed wildly around, and at last discovered a fissure in the rock, to which i rushed in the hope of recovering my scattered senses. crouching down, i waited shivering as in an ague fit. no man is brave in presence of an earthquake, or a bursting boiler, or an exploding torpedo. i could not be expected to feel much courage in presence of the fearful fate that appeared to await me. an hour passed. i heard all the time a strange rumbling outside the cave. what was the fate of my unhappy companions? it was impossible for me to pause to inquire. my own wretched existence was all i could think of. suddenly a groaning, as of fifty bears in a fight, fell upon my ears--hisses, spitting, moaning, hideous to hear--and then i saw-- never, were ages to pass over my head, shall i forget the horrible apparition. it was the ape gigans! fourteen feet high, covered with coarse hair, of a blackish brown, the hair on the arms, from the shoulder to the elbow joints, pointing downwards, while that from the wrist to the elbow pointed upwards, it advanced. its arms were as long as its body, while its legs were prodigious. it had thick, long, and sharply pointed teeth--like a mammoth saw. it struck its breast as it came on smelling and sniffing, reminding me of the stories we read in our early childhood of giants who ate the flesh of men and little boys! suddenly it stopped. my heart beat wildly, for i was conscious that, somehow or other, the fearful monster had smelled me out and was peering about with his hideous eyes to try and discover my whereabouts. my reading, which as a rule is a blessing, but which on this occasion, seemed momentarily to prove a curse, told me the real truth. it was the ape gigans, the antediluvian gorilla. yes! this awful monster, confined by good fortune to the interior of the earth, was the progenitor of the hideous monster of africa. he glared wildly about, seeking something--doubtless myself. i gave myself up for lost. no hope of safety or escape seemed to remain. at this moment, just as my eyes appeared to close in death, there came a strange noise from the entrance of the cave; and turning, the gorilla evidently recognized some enemy more worthy his prodigious size and strength. it was the huge shark-crocodile, which perhaps having disposed of my friends, was coming in search of further prey. the gorilla placed himself on the defensive, and clutching a bone some seven or eight feet in length, a perfect club, aimed a deadly blow at the hideous beast, which reared upwards and fell with all its weight upon its adversary. a terrible combat, the details of which it is impossible to give, now ensued. the struggle was awful and ferocious, i, however, did not wait to witness the result. regarding myself as the object of contention, i determined to remove from the presence of the victor. i slid down from my hiding place, reached the ground, and gliding against the wall, strove to gain the open mouth of the cavern. but i had not taken many steps when the fearful clamor ceased, to be followed by a mumbling and groaning which appeared to be indicative of victory. i looked back and saw the huge ape, gory with blood, coming after me with glaring eyes, with dilated nostrils that gave forth two columns of heated vapor. i could feel his hot and fetid breath on my neck; and with a horrid jump--awoke from my nightmare sleep. yes--it was all a dream. i was still on the raft with my uncle and the guide. the relief was not instantaneous, for under the influence of the hideous nightmare my senses had become numbed. after a while, however, my feelings were tranquilized. the first of my perceptions which returned in full force was that of hearing. i listened with acute and attentive ears. all was still as death. all i comprehended was silence. to the roaring of the waters, which had filled the gallery with awful reverberations, succeeded perfect peace. after some little time my uncle spoke, in a low and scarcely audible tone: "harry, boy, where are you?" "i am here," was my faint rejoinder. "well, don't you see what has happened? we are going upwards." "my dear uncle, what can you mean?" was my half-delirious reply. "yes, i tell you we are ascending rapidly. our downward journey is quite checked." i held out my hand, and, after some little difficulty, succeeded in touching the wall. my hand was in an instant covered with blood. the skin was torn from the flesh. we were ascending with extraordinary rapidity. "the torch--the torch!" cried the professor, wildly; "it must be lighted." hans, the guide, after many vain efforts, at last succeeded in lighting it, and the flame, having now nothing to prevent its burning, shed a tolerably clear light. we were enabled to form an approximate idea of the truth. "it is just as i thought," said my uncle, after a moment or 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 upon 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 round 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 centre 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! chapter hunger hunger, prolonged, is temporary madness! the brain is at work without its required food, and the most fantastic notions fill the mind. hitherto i had never known what hunger really meant. i was likely to understand it now. and yet, three months before i could tell my terrible story of starvation, as i thought it. as a boy i used to make frequent excursions in the neighborhood of the professor's house. my uncle always acted on system, and he believed that, in addition to the day of rest and worship, there should be a day of recreation. in consequence, i was always free to do as i liked on a wednesday. now, as i had a notion to combine the useful and the agreeable, my favorite pastime was birds' nesting. i had one of the best collections of eggs in all the town. they were classified, and under glass cases. there was a certain wood, which, by rising at early morn, and taking the cheap train, i could reach at eleven in the morning. here i would botanize or geologize at my will. my uncle was always glad of specimens for his herbarium, and stones to examine. when i had filled my wallet, i proceeded to search for nests. after about two hours of hard work, i, one day, sat down by a stream to eat my humble but copious lunch. how the remembrance of the spiced sausage, the wheaten loaf, and the beer, made my mouth water now! i would have given every prospect of worldly wealth for such a meal. but to my story. while seated thus at my leisure, i looked up at the ruins of an old castle, at no great distance. it was the remains of an historical dwelling, ivy-clad, and now falling to pieces. while looking, i saw two eagles circling about the summit of a lofty tower. i soon became satisfied that there was a nest. now, in all my collection, i lacked eggs of the native eagle and the large owl. my mind was made up. i would reach the summit of that tower, or perish in the attempt. i went nearer, and surveyed the ruins. the old staircase, years before, had fallen in. the outer walls were, however, intact. there was no chance that way, unless i looked to the ivy solely for support. this was, as i soon found out, futile. there remained the chimney, which still went up to the top, and had once served to carry off the smoke from every story of the tower. up this i determined to venture. it was narrow, rough, and therefore the more easily climbed. i took off my coat and crept into the chimney. looking up, i saw a small, light opening, proclaiming the summit of the chimney. up--up i went, for some time using my hands and knees, after the fashion of a chimney sweep. it was slow work, but, there being continual projections, the task was comparatively easy. in this way, i reached halfway. the chimney now became narrower. the atmosphere was close, and, at last, to end the matter, i stuck fast. i could ascend no higher. there could be no doubt of this, and there remained no resource but to descend, and give up my glorious prey in despair. i yielded to fate and endeavored to descend. but i could not move. some unseen and mysterious obstacle intervened and stopped me. in an instant the full horror of my situation seized me. i was unable to move either way, and was doomed to a terrible and horrible death, that of starvation. in a boy's mind, however, there is an extraordinary amount of elasticity and hope, and i began to think of all sorts of plans to escape my gloomy fate. in the first place, i required no food just at present, having had an excellent meal, and was therefore allowed time for reflection. my first thought was to try and move the mortar with my hand. had i possessed a knife, something might have been done, but that useful instrument i had left in my coat pocket. i soon found that all efforts of this kind were vain and useless, and that all i could hope to do was to wriggle downwards. but though i jerked and struggled, and strove to turn, it was all in vain. i could not move an inch, one way or the other. and time flew rapidly. my early rising probably contributed to the fact that i felt sleepy, and gradually gave way to the sensation of drowsiness. i slept, and awoke in darkness, ravenously hungry. night had come, and still i could not move. i was tight bound, and did not succeed in changing my position an inch. i groaned aloud. never since the days of my happy childhood, when it was a hardship to go from meal to meal without eating, had i really experienced hunger. the sensation was as novel as it was painful. i began now to lose my head and to scream and cry out in my agony. something appeared, startled by my noise. it was a harmless lizard, but it appeared to me a loathsome reptile. again i made the old ruins resound with my cries, and finally so exhausted myself that i fainted. how long i lay in a kind of trance or sleep i cannot say, but when again i recovered consciousness it was day. how ill i felt, how hunger still gnawed at me, it would be hard to say. i was too weak to scream now, far too weak to struggle. suddenly i was startled by a roar. "are you there, henry?" said the voice of my uncle; "are you there, my boy?" i could only faintly respond, but i also made a desperate effort to turn. some mortar fell. to this i owed my being discovered. when the search took place, it was easily seen that mortar and small pieces of stone had recently fallen from above. hence my uncle's cry. "be calm," he cried, "if we pull down the whole ruin, you shall be saved." they were delicious words, but i had little hope. soon however, about a quarter of an hour later i heard a voice above me, at one of the upper fireplaces. "are you below or above?" "below," was my reply. in an instant a basket was lowered with milk, a biscuit, and an egg. my uncle was fearful to be too ready with his supply of food. i drank the milk first, for thirst had nearly deadened hunger. i then, much refreshed, ate my bread and hard egg. they were now at work at the wall. i could hear a pickax. wishing to escape all danger from this terrible weapon i made a desperate struggle, and the belt, which surrounded my waist and which had been hitched on a stone, gave way. i was free, and only escaped falling down by a rapid motion of my hands and knees. in ten minutes more i was in my uncle's arms, after being two days and nights in that horrible prison. my occasional delirium prevented me from counting time. i was weeks recovering from that awful starvation adventure; and yet what was that to the hideous sufferings i now endured? after dreaming for some time, and thinking of this and other matters, i once more looked around me. we were still ascending with fearful rapidity. every now and then the air appeared to check our respiration as it does that of aeronauts when the ascension of the balloon is too rapid. but if they feel a degree of cold in proportion to the elevation they attain in the atmosphere, we experienced quite a contrary effect. the heat began to increase in a most threatening and exceptional manner. i cannot tell exactly the mean, but i think it must have reached one hundred twenty-two degrees fahrenheit. what was the meaning of this extraordinary change in the temperature? as far as we had hitherto gone, facts had proved the theories of davy and of lidenbrock to be correct. until now, all the peculiar conditions of refractory rocks, of electricity, of magnetism, had modified the general laws of nature, and had created for us a moderate temperature; for the theory of the central fire, remained, in my eyes, the only explainable one. were we, then, going to reach a position in which these phenomena were to be carried out in all their rigor, and in which the heat would reduce the rocks to a state of fusion? such was my not unnatural fear, and i did not conceal the fact from my uncle. my way of doing so might be cold and heartless, but i could not help it. "if we are not drowned, or smashed into pancakes, and if we do not die of starvation, we have the satisfaction of knowing that we must be burned alive." my uncle, in presence of this brusque attack, simply shrugged his shoulders, and resumed his reflections--whatever they might be. an hour passed away, and except that there was a slight increase in the temperature no incident modified the situation. my uncle at last, of his own accord, broke silence. "well, henry, my boy," he said, in a cheerful way, "we must make up our minds." "make up our minds to what?" i asked, in considerable surprise. "well--to something. we must at whatever risk recruit our physical strength. if we make the fatal mistake of husbanding our little remnant of food, we may probably prolong our wretched existence a few hours--but we shall remain weak to the end." "yes," i growled, "to the end. that, however, will not keep us long waiting." "well, only let a chance of safety present itself--only allow that a moment of action be necessary--where shall we find the means of action if we allow ourselves to be reduced to physical weakness by inanition?" "when this piece of meat is devoured, uncle, what hope will there remain unto us?" "none, my dear henry, none. but will it do you any good to devour it with your eyes? you appear to me to reason like one without will or decision, like a being without energy." "then," cried i, exasperated to a degree which is scarcely to be explained, "you do not mean to tell me--that you--that you--have not lost all hope." "certainly not," replied the professor with consummate coolness. "you mean to tell me, uncle, that we shall get out of this monstrous subterranean shaft?" "while there is life there is hope. i beg to assert, henry, that as long as a man's heart beats, as long as a man's flesh quivers, i do not allow that a being gifted with thought and will can allow himself to despair." what a nerve! the man placed in a position like that we occupied must have been very brave to speak like this. "well," i cried, "what do you mean to do?" "eat what remains of the food we have in our hands; let us swallow the last crumb. it will bel heaven willing, our last repast. well, never mind--instead of being exhausted skeletons, we shall be men." "true," muttered i in a despairing tone, "let us take our fill." "we must," replied my uncle, with a deep sigh, "call it what you will." my uncle took a piece of the meat that remained, and some crusts of biscuit which had escaped the wreck. he divided the whole into three parts. each had one pound of food to last him as long as he remained in the interior of the earth. each now acted in accordance with his own private character. my uncle, the professor, ate greedily, but evidently without appetite, eating simply from some mechanical motion. i put the food inside my lips, and hungry as i was, chewed my morsel without pleasure, and without satisfaction. hans, the guide, just as if he had been eider-down hunting, swallowed every mouthful, as though it were a usual affair. he looked like a man equally prepared to enjoy superfluity or total want. hans, in all probability, was no more used to starvation than ourselves, but his hardy icelandic nature had prepared him for many sufferings. as long as he received his three rix-dollars every saturday night, he was prepared for anything. the fact was, hans never troubled himself about much except his money. he had undertaken to serve a certain man at so much per week, and no matter what evils befell his employer or himself, he never found fault or grumbled, so long as his wages were duly paid. suddenly my uncle roused himself. he had seen a smile on the face of our guide. i could not make it out. "what is the matter?" said my uncle. "schiedam," said the guide, producing a bottle of this precious fluid. we drank. my uncle and myself will own to our dying day that hence we derived strength to exist until the last bitter moment. that precious bottle of hollands was in reality only half full; but, under the circumstances, it was nectar. it took some minutes for myself and my uncle to form a decided opinion on the subject. the worthy professor swallowed about half a pint and did not seem able to drink any more. "<i>fortrafflig</i>," said hans, swallowing nearly all that was left. "excellent--very good," said my uncle, with as much gusto as if he had just left the steps of the club at hamburg. i had begun to feel as if there had been one gleam of hope. now all thought of the future vanished! we had consumed our last ounce of food, and it was five o'clock in the morning! chapter the volcanic shaft man's constitution is so peculiar that his health is purely a negative matter. no sooner is the rage of hunger appeased than it becomes difficult to comprehend the meaning of starvation. it is only when you suffer that you really understand. as to anyone who has not endured privation having any notion of the matter, it is simply absurd. with us, after a long fast, some mouthfuls of bread and meat, a little moldy biscuit and salt beef triumphed over all our previous gloomy and saturnine thoughts. nevertheless, after this repast each gave way to his own reflections. i wondered what were those of hans--the man of the extreme north, who was yet gifted with the fatalistic resignation of oriental character. but the utmost stretch of the imagination would not allow me to realize the truth. as for my individual self, my thoughts had ceased to be anything but memories of the past, and were all connected with that upper world which i never should have left. i saw it all now, the beautiful house in the konigstrasse, my poor gretchen, the good martha; they all passed before my mind like visions of the past. every time any of the lugubrious groanings which were to be distinguished in the hollows around fell upon my ears, i fancied i heard the distant murmur of the great cities above my head. as for my uncle, always thinking of his science, he examined the nature of the shaft by means of a torch. he closely examined the different strata one above the other, in order to recognize his situation by geological theory. this calculation, or rather this estimation, could by no means be anything but approximate. but a learned man, a philosopher, is nothing if not a philosopher, when he keeps his ideas calm and collected; and certainly the professor possessed this quality to perfection. i heard him, as i sat in silence, murmuring words of geological science. as i understood his object and his meaning, i could not but interest myself despite my preoccupation in that terrible hour. "eruptive granite," he said to himself, "we are still in the primitive epoch. but we are going up--going up, still going up. but who knows? who knows?" then he still hoped. he felt along the vertical sides of the shaft with his hand, and some few minutes later, he would go on again in the following style: "this is gneiss. this is mica schist--siliceous mineral. good again; this is the epoch of transition, at all events, we are close to them--and then, and then--" what could the professor mean? could he, by any conceivable means, measure the thickness of the crust of the earth suspended above our heads? did he possess any possible means of making any approximation to this calculation? no. the manometer was wanting, and no summary estimation could take the place of it. and yet, as we progressed, the temperature increased in the most extraordinary degree, and i began to feel as if i were bathed in a hot and burning atmosphere. never before had i felt anything like it. i could only compare it to the hot vapor from an iron foundry, when the liquid iron is in a state of ebullition and runs over. by degrees, and one after the other, hans, my uncle, and myself had taken off our coats and waistcoats. they were unbearable. even the slightest garment was not only uncomfortable, but the cause of extreme suffering. "are we ascending to a living fire?" i cried; when, to my horror and astonishment, the heat became greater than before. "no, no," said my uncle, "it is simply impossible, quite impossible." "and yet," said i, touching the side of the shaft with my naked hand, "this wall is literally burning." at this moment, feeling as i did that the sides of this extraordinary wall were red hot, i plunged my hands into the water to cool them. i drew them back with a cry of despair. "the water is boiling!" i cried. my uncle, the professor, made no reply other than a gesture of rage and despair. something very like the truth had probably struck his imagination. but i could take no share in either what was going on, or in his speculations. an invincible dread had taken possession of my brain and soul. i could only look forward to an immediate catastrophe, such a catastrophe as not even the most vivid imagination could have thought of. an idea, at first vague and uncertain, was gradually being changed into certainty. i tremulously rejected it at first, but it forced itself upon me by degrees with extreme obstinacy. it was so terrible an idea that i scarcely dared to whisper it to myself. and yet all the while certain, and as it were, involuntary observations determined my convictions. by the doubtful glare of the torch, i could make out some singular changes in the granitic strata; a strange and terrible phenomenon was about to be produced, in which electricity played a part. then this boiling water, this terrible and excessive heat? i determined as a last resource to examine the compass. the compass had gone mad! yes, wholly stark staring mad. the needle jumped from pole to pole with sudden and surprising jerks, ran round, or as it is said, boxed the compass, and then ran suddenly back again as if it had the vertigo. i was aware that, according to the best acknowledged theories, it was a received notion that the mineral crust of the globe is never, and never has been, in a state of complete repose. it is perpetually undergoing the modifications caused by the decomposition of internal matter, the agitation consequent on the flowing of extensive liquid currents, the excessive action of magnetism which tends to shake it incessantly, at a time when even the multitudinous beings on its surface do not suspect the seething process to be going on. still this phenomenon would not have alarmed me alone; it would not have aroused in my mind a terrible, an awful idea. but other facts could not allow my self-delusion to last. terrible detonations, like heaven's artillery, began to multiply themselves with fearful intensity. i could only compare them with the noise made by hundreds of heavily laden chariots being madly driven over a stone pavement. it was a continuous roll of heavy thunder. and then the mad compass, shaken by the wild electric phenomena, confirmed me in my rapidly formed opinion. the mineral crust was about to burst, the heavy granite masses were about to rejoin, the fissure was about to close, the void was about to be filled up, and we poor atoms to be crushed in its awful embrace! "uncle, uncle!" i cried, "we are wholly, irretrievably lost!" "what, then, my young friend, is your new cause of terror and alarm?" he said in his calmest manner. "what fear you now?" "what do i fear now!" i cried in fierce and angry tones. "do you not see that the walls of the shaft are in motion? do you not see that the solid granite masses are cracking? do you not feel the terrible, torrid heat? do you not observe the awful boiling water on which we float? do you not remark this mad needle? every sign and portent of an awful earthquake!" my uncle coolly shook his head. "an earthquake," he replied in the most calm and provoking tone. "yes." "my nephew, i tell you that you are utterly mistaken," he continued. "do you not, can you not, recognize all the well-known symtons--" "of an earthquake? by no means. i am expecting something far more important." "my brain is strained beyond endurance--what, what do you mean?" i cried. "an eruption, harry." "an eruption," i gasped. "we are, then, in the volcanic shaft of a crater in full action and vigor." "i have every reason to think so," said the professor in a smiling tone, "and i beg to tell you that it is the most fortunate thing that could happen to us." the most fortunate thing! had my uncle really and truly gone mad? what did he mean by these awful words--what did he mean by this terrible calm, this solemn smile? "what!" cried i, in the height of my exasperation, "we are on the way to an eruption, are we? fatality has cast us into a well of burning and boiling lava, of rocks on fire, of boiling water, in a word, filled with every kind of eruptive matter? we are about to be expelled, thrown up, vomited, spit out of the interior of the earth, in common with huge blocks of granite, with showers of cinders and scoriae, in a wild whirlwind of flame, and you say--the most fortunate thing which could happen to us." "yes," replied the professor, looking at me calmly from under his spectacles, "it is the only chance which remains to us of ever escaping from the interior of the earth to the light of day." it is quite impossible that i can put on paper the thousand strange, wild thoughts which followed this extraordinary announcement. but my uncle was right, quite right, and never had he appeared to me so audacious and so convinced as when he looked me calmly in the face and spoke of the chances of an eruption--of our being cast upon mother earth once more through the gaping crater of a volcano! nevertheless, while we were speaking we were still ascending; we passed the whole night going up, or to speak more scientifically, in an ascensional motion. the fearful noise redoubled; i was ready to suffocate. i seriously believed that my last hour was approaching, and yet, so strange is imagination, all i thought of was some childish hypothesis or other. in such circumstances you do not choose your own thoughts. they overcome you. it was quite evident that we were being cast upwards by eruptive matter; under the raft there was a mass of boiling water, and under this was a heavier mass of lava, and an aggregate of rocks which, on reaching the summit of the water, would be dispersed in every direction. that we were inside the chimney of a volcano there could no longer be the shadow of a doubt. nothing more terrible could be conceived! but on this occasion, instead of sneffels, an old and extinct volcano, we were inside a mountain of fire in full activity. several times i found myself asking, what mountain was it, and on what part of the world we should be shot out. as if it were of any consequence! in the northern regions, there could be no reasonable doubt about that. before it went decidedly mad, the compass had never made the slightest mistake. from the cape of saknussemm, we had been swept away to the northward many hundreds of leagues. now the question was, were we once more under iceland--should we be belched forth on to the earth through the crater of mount hecla, or should we reappear through one of the other seven fire funnels of the island? taking in my mental vision a radius of five hundred leagues to the westward, i could see under this parallel only the little-known volcanoes of the northwest coast of america. to the east one only existed somewhere about the eightieth degree of latitude, the esk, upon the island of jan mayen, not far from the frozen regions of spitsbergen. it was not craters that were wanting, and many of them were big enough to vomit a whole army; all i wished to know was the particular one towards which we were making with such fearful velocity. i often think now of my folly: as if i should ever have expected to escape! towards morning, the ascending motion became greater and greater. if the degree of heat increased instead of decreasing, as we approached the surface of the earth, it was simply because the causes were local and wholly due to volcanic influence. our very style of locomotion left in my mind no doubt upon the subject. an enormous force, a force of several hundreds of atmospheres produced by the vapors accumulated and long compressed in the interior of the earth, was hoisting us upwards with irresistible power. but though we were approaching the light of day, to what fearful dangers were we about to be exposed? instant death appeared the only fate which we could expect or contemplate. soon a dim, sepulchral light penetrated the vertical gallery, which became wider and wider. i could make out to the right and left long dark corridors like immense tunnels, from which awful and horrid vapors poured out. tongues of fire, sparkling and crackling, appeared about to lick us up. the hour had come! "look, uncle, look!" i cried. "well, what you see are the great sulphurous flames. nothing more common in connection with an eruption." "but if they lap us round!" i angrily replied. "they will not lap us round," was his quiet and serene answer. "but it will be all the same in the end if they stifle us," i cried. "we shall not be stifled. the gallery is rapidly becoming wider and wider, and if it be necessary, we will presently leave the raft and take refuge in some fissure in the rock." "but the water, the water, which is continually ascending?" i despairingly replied. "there is no longer any water, harry," he answered, "but a kind of lava paste, which is heaving us up, in company with itself, to the mouth of the crater." in truth, the liquid column of water had wholly disappeared to give place to dense masses of boiling eruptive matter. the temperature was becoming utterly insupportable, and a thermometer exposed to this atmosphere would have marked between one hundred and eighty-nine and one hundred ninety degrees fahrenheit. perspiration rushed from every pore. but for the extraordinary rapidity of our ascent we should have been stifled. nevertheless, the professor did not carry out his proposition of abandoning the raft; and he did quite wisely. those few ill-joined beams offered, anyway, a solid surface--a support which elsewhere must have utterly failed us. towards eight o'clock in the morning a new incident startled us. the ascensional movement suddenly ceased. the raft became still and motionless. "what is the matter now?" i said, querulously, very much startled by this change. "a simple halt," replied my uncle. "is the eruption about to fail?" i asked. "i hope not." without making any reply, i rose. i tried to look around me. perhaps the raft, checked by some projecting rock, opposed a momentary resistance to the eruptive mass. in this case, it was absolutely necessary to release it as quickly as possible. nothing of the kind had occurred. the column of cinders, of scoriae, of broken rocks and earth, had wholly ceased to ascend. "i tell you, uncle, that the eruption has stopped," was my oracular decision. "ah," said my uncle, "you think so, my boy. you are wrong. do not be in the least alarmed; this sudden moment of calm will not last long, be assured. it has already endured five minutes, and before we are many minutes older we shall be continuing our journey to the mouth of the crater." all the time he was speaking the professor continued to consult his chronometer, and he was probably right in his prognostics. soon the raft resumed its motion, in a very rapid and disorderly way, which lasted two minutes or thereabout; and then again it stopped as suddenly as before. "good," said my uncle, observing the hour, "in ten we shall start again." "in ten minutes?" "yes--precisely. we have to do with a volcano, the eruption of which is intermittent. we are compelled to breathe just as it does." nothing could be more true. at the exact minute he had indicated, we were again launched on high with extreme rapidity. not to be cast off the raft, it was necessary to hold on to the beams. then the hoist again ceased. many times since have i thought of this singular phenomenon without being able to find for it any satisfactory explanation. nevertheless, it appeared quite clear to me, that we were not in the principal chimney of the volcano, but in an accessory conduit, where we felt the counter shock of the great and principal tunnel filled by burning lava. it is impossible for me to say how many times this maneuver was repeated. all that i can remember is, that on every ascensional motion, we were hoisted up with ever increasing velocity, as if we had been launched from a huge projectile. during the sudden halts we were nearly stifled; during the moments of projection the hot air took away our breath. i thought for a moment of the voluptuous joy of suddenly finding myself in the hyperborean regions with the cold thirty degrees below zero! my exalted imagination pictured to itself the vast snowy plains of the arctic regions, and i was impatient to roll myself on the icy carpet of the north pole. by degrees my head, utterly overcome by a series of violent emotions, began to give way to hallucination. i was delirious. had it not been for the powerful arms of hans, the guide, i should have broken my head against the granite masses of the shaft. i have, in consequence, kept no account of what followed for many hours. i have a vague and confused remembrance of continual detonations, of the shaking of the huge granitic mass, and of the raft going round like a spinning top. it floated on the stream of hot lava, amidst a falling cloud of cinders. the huge flames roaring, wrapped us around. a storm of wind which appeared to be cast forth from an immense ventilator roused up the interior fires of the earth. it was a hot, incandescent blast! at last i saw the figure of hans as if enveloped in the huge halo of burning blaze, and no other sense remained to me but that sinister dread which the condemned victim may be supposed to feel when led to the mouth of a cannon, at the supreme moment when the shot is fired and his limbs are dispersed into empty space. chapter daylight at last when i opened my eyes i felt the hand of the guide clutching me firmly by the belt. with his other hand he supported my uncle. i was not grievously wounded, but bruised all over in the most remarkable manner. after a moment i looked around, and found that i was lying down on the slope of a mountain not two yards from a yawning gulf into which i should have fallen had i made the slightest false step. hans had saved me from death, while i rolled insensible on the flanks of the crater. "where are we?" dreamily asked my uncle, who literally appeared to be disgusted at having returned to earth. the eider-down hunter simply shrugged his shoulders as a mark of total ignorance. "in iceland?" said i, not positively but interrogatively. "nej," said hans. "how do you mean?" cried the professor; "no--what are your reasons?" "hans is wrong," said i, rising. after all the innumerable surprises of this journey, a yet more singular one was reserved to us. i expected to see a cone covered by snow, by extensive and widespread glaciers, in the midst of the arid deserts of the extreme northern regions, beneath the full rays of a polar sky, beyond the highest latitudes. but contrary to all our expectations, i, my uncle, and the icelander, were cast upon the slope of a mountain calcined by the burning rays of a sun which was literally baking us with its fires. i could not believe my eyes, but the actual heat which affected my body allowed me no chance of doubting. we came out of the crater half naked, and the radiant star from which we had asked nothing for two months, was good enough to be prodigal to us of light and warmth--a light and warmth we could easily have dispensed with. when our eyes were accustomed to the light we had lost sight of so long, i used them to rectify the errors of my imagination. whatever happened, we should have been at spitsbergen, and i was in no humor to yield to anything but the most absolute proof. after some delay, the professor spoke. "hem!" he said, in a hesitating kind of way, "it really does not look like iceland." "but supposing it were the island of jan mayen?" i ventured to observe. "not in the least, my boy. this is not one of the volcanoes of the north, with its hills of granite and its crown of snow." "nevertheless--" "look, look, my boy," said the professor, as dogmatically as usual. right above our heads, at a great height, opened the crater of a volcano from which escaped, from one quarter of an hour to the other, with a very loud explosion, a lofty jet of flame mingled with pumice stone, cinders, and lava. i could feel the convulsions of nature in the mountain, which breathed like a huge whale, throwing up from time to time fire and air through its enormous vents. below, and floating along a slope of considerable angularity, the stream of eruptive matter spread away to a depth which did not give the volcano a height of three hundred fathoms. its base disappeared in a perfect forest of green trees, among which i perceived olives, fig trees, and vines loaded with rich grapes. certainly this was not the ordinary aspect of the arctic regions. about that there could not be the slightest doubt. when the eye was satisfied at its glimpse of this verdant expanse, it fell upon the waters of a lovely sea or beautiful lake, which made of this enchanted land an island of not many leagues in extent. on the side of the rising sun was to be seen a little port, crowded with houses, and near which the boats and vessels of peculiar build were floating upon azure waves. beyond, groups of islands rose above the liquid plain, so numerous and close together as to resemble a vast beehive. towards the setting sun, some distant shores were to be made out on the edge of the horizon. some presented the appearance of blue mountains of harmonious conformation; upon others, much more distant, there appeared a prodigiously lofty cone, above the summit of which hung dark and heavy clouds. towards the north, an immense expanse of water sparkled beneath the solar rays, occasionally allowing the extremity of a mast or the convexity of a sail bellying to the wind, to be seen. the unexpected character of such a scene added a hundredfold to its marvelous beauties. "where can we be?" i asked, speaking in a low and solemn voice. hans shut his eyes with an air of indifference, and my uncle looked on without clearly understanding. "whatever this mountain may be," he said, at last, "i must confess it is rather warm. the explosions do not leave off, and i do not think it is worthwhile to have left the interior of a volcano and remain here to receive a huge piece of rock upon one's head. let us carefully descend the mountain and discover the real state of the case. to confess the truth, i am dying of hunger and thirst." decidedly the professor was no longer a truly reflective character. for myself, forgetting all my necessities, ignoring my fatigues and sufferings, i should have remained still for several hours longer--but it was necessary to follow my companions. the slope of the volcano was very steep and slippery; we slid over piles of ashes, avoiding the streams of hot lava which glided about like fiery serpents. still, while we were advancing, i spoke with extreme volubility, for my imagination was too full not to explode in words. "we are in asia!" i exclaimed; "we are on the coast of india, in the great malay islands, in the centre of oceania. we have crossed the one half of the globe to come out right at the antipodes of europe!" "but the compass!" exclaimed my uncle; "explain that to me!" "yes--the compass," i said with considerable hesitation. "i grant that is a difficulty. according to it, we have always been going northward." "then it lied." "hem--to say it lied is rather a harsh word," was my answer. "then we are at the north pole--" "the pole--no--well--well i give it up," was my reply. the plain truth was, that there was no explanation possible. i could make nothing of it. and all the while we were approaching this beautiful verdure, hunger and thirst tormented me fearfully. happily, after two long hours' march, a beautiful country spread out before us, covered by olives, pomegranates, and vines, which appeared to belong to anybody and everybody. in any event, in the state of destitution into which we had fallen, we were not in a mood to ponder too scrupulously. what delight it was to press these delicious fruits to our lips, and to bite at grapes and pomegranates fresh from the vine. not far off, near some fresh and mossy grass, under the delicious shade of some trees, i discovered a spring of fresh water, in which we voluptuously laved our faces, hands, and feet. while we were all giving way to the delights of new-found pleasures, a little child appeared between two tufted olive trees. "ah," cried i, "an inhabitant of this happy country." the little fellow was poorly dressed, weak, and suffering, and appeared terribly alarmed at our appearance. half-naked, with tangled, matted and ragged beards, we did look supremely ill-favored; and unless the country was a bandit land, we were not likely to alarm the inhabitants! just as the boy was about to take to his heels, hans ran after him, and brought him back, despite his cries and kicks. my uncle tried to look as gentle as possible, and then spoke in german. "what is the name of this mountain, my friend?" the child made no reply. "good," said my uncle, with a very positive air of conviction, "we are not in germany." he then made the same demand in english, of which language he was an excellent scholar. the child shook its head and made no reply. i began to be considerably puzzled. "is he dumb?" cried the professor, who was rather proud of his polyglot knowledge of languages, and made the same demand in french. the boy only stared in his face. "i must perforce try him in italian," said my uncle, with a shrug. "<i>dove noi siamo</i>?" "yes, tell me where we are?" i added impatiently and eagerly. again the boy remained silent. "my fine fellow, do you or do you not mean to speak?" cried my uncle, who began to get angry. he shook him, and spoke another dialect of the italian language. "<i>come si noma questa isola</i>?"--"what is the name of this island?" "stromboli," replied the rickety little shepherd, dashing away from hans and disappearing in the olive groves. we thought little enough about him. stromboli! what effect on the imagination did these few words produce! we were in the centre of the mediterranean, amidst the eastern archipelago of mythological memory, in the ancient strongylos, where aeolus kept the wind and the tempest chained up. and those blue mountains, which rose towards the rising sun, were the mountains of calabria. and that mighty volcano which rose on the southern horizon was etna, the fierce and celebrated etna! "stromboli! stromboli!" i repeated to myself. my uncle played a regular accompaniment to my gestures and words. we were singing together like an ancient chorus. ah--what a journey--what a marvelous and extraordinary journey! here we had entered the earth by one volcano, and we had come out by another. and this other was situated more than twelve hundred leagues from sneffels from that drear country of iceland cast away on the confines of the earth. the wondrous changes of this expedition had transported us to the most harmonious and beautiful of earthly lands. we had abandoned the region of eternal snows for that of infinite verdure, and had left over our heads the gray fog of the icy regions to come back to the azure sky of sicily! after a delicious repast of fruits and fresh water, we again continued our journey in order to reach the port of stromboli. to say how we had reached the island would scarcely have been prudent. the superstitious character of the italians would have been at work, and we should have been called demons vomited from the infernal regions. it was therefore necessary to pass for humble and unfortunate shipwrecked travelers. it was certainly less striking and romantic, but it was decidedly safer. as we advanced, i could hear my worthy uncle muttering to himself: "but the compass. the compass most certainly marked north. this is a fact i cannot explain in any way." "well, the fact is," said i, with an air of disdain, "we must not explain anything. it will be much more easy." "i should like to see a professor of the johanneum institution who is unable to explain a cosmic phenomenon--it would indeed be strange." and speaking thus, my uncle, half-naked, his leathern purse round his loins, and his spectacles upon his nose, became once more the terrible professor of mineralogy. an hour after leaving the wood of olives, we reached the fort of san vicenza, where hans demanded the price of his thirteenth week of service. my uncle paid him, with very many warm shakes of the hand. at that moment, if he did not indeed quite share our natural emotion, he allowed his feelings so far to give way as to indulge in an extraordinary expression for him. with the tips of two fingers he gently pressed our hands and smiled. chapter the journey ended this is the final conclusion of a narrative which will be probably disbelieved even by people who are astonished at nothing. i am, however, armed at all points against human incredulity. we were kindly received by the strombolite fishermen, who treated us as shipwrecked travelers. they gave us clothes and food. after a delay of forty-eight hours, on the th of september a little vessel took us to messina, where a few days of delightful and complete repose restored us to ourselves. on friday, the th of october, we embarked in the volturne, one of the postal packets of the imperial messageries of france; and three days later we landed at marseilles, having no other care on our minds but that of our precious but erratic compass. this inexplicable circumstance tormented me terribly. on the th of october, in the evening, we reached hamburg. what was the astonishment of martha, what the joy of gretchen! i will not attempt to define it. "now then, harry, that you really are a hero," she said, "there is no reason why you should ever leave me again." i looked at her. she was weeping tears of joy. i leave it to be imagined if the return of professor hardwigg made or did not make a sensation in hamburg. thanks to the indiscretion of martha, the news of his departure for the interior of the earth had been spread over the whole world. no one would believe it--and when they saw him come back in safety they believed it all the less. but the presence of hans and many stray scraps of information by degrees modified public opinion. then my uncle became a great man and i the nephew of a great man, which, at all events, is something. hamburg gave a festival in our honor. a public meeting of the johanneum institution was held, at which the professor related the whole story of his adventures, omitting only the facts in connection with the compass. that same day he deposited in the archives of the town the document he had found written by saknussemm, and he expressed his great regret that circumstances, stronger than his will, did not allow him to follow the icelandic traveler's track into the very centre of the earth. he was modest in his glory, but his reputation only increased. so much honor necessarily created for him many envious enemies. of course they existed, and as his theories, supported by certain facts, contradicted the system of science upon the question of central heat, he maintained his own views both with pen and speech against the learned of every country. although i still believe in the theory of central heat, i confess that certain circumstances, hitherto very ill defined, may modify the laws of such natural phenomena. at the moment when these questions were being discussed with interest, my uncle received a rude shock--one that he felt very much. hans, despite everything he could say to the contrary, quitted hamburg; the man to whom we owed so much would not allow us to pay our deep debt of gratitude. he was taken with nostalgia; a love for his icelandic home. "farval," said he, one day, and with this one short word of adieu, he started for reykjavik, which he soon reached in safety. we were deeply attached to our brave eider-duck hunter. his absence will never cause him to be forgotten by those whose lives he saved, and i hope, at some not distant day, to see him again. to conclude, i may say that our journey into the interior of the earth created an enormous sensation throughout the civilized world. it was translated and printed in many languages. all the leading journals published extracts from it, which were commentated, discussed, attacked, and supported with equal animation by those who believed in its episodes, and by those who were utterly incredulous. wonderful! my uncle enjoyed during his lifetime all the glory he deserved; and he was even offered a large sum of money, by mr. barnum, to exhibit himself in the united states; while i am credibly informed by a traveler that he is to be seen in waxwork at madame tussaud's! but one care preyed upon his mind, a care which rendered him very unhappy. one fact remained inexplicable--that of the compass. for a learned man to be baffled by such an inexplicable phenomenon was very aggravating. but heaven was merciful, and in the end my uncle was happy. one day, while he put some minerals belonging to his collection in order, i fell upon the famous compass and examined it keenly. for six months it had lain unnoticed and untouched. i looked at it with curiosity, which soon became surprise. i gave a loud cry. the professor, who was at hand, soon joined me. "what is the matter?" he cried. "the compass!" "what then?" "why its needle points to the south and not to the north." "my dear boy, you must be dreaming." "i am not dreaming. see--the poles are changed." "changed!" my uncle put on his spectacles, examined the instrument, and leaped with joy, shaking the whole house. a clear light fell upon our minds. "here it is!" he cried, as soon as he had recovered the use of his speech, "after we had once passed cape saknussemm, the needle of this compass pointed to the southward instead of the northward." "evidently." "our error is now easily explained. but to what phenomenon do we owe this alteration in the needle?" "nothing more simple." "explain yourself, my boy. i am on thorns." "during the storm, upon the central sea, the ball of fire which made a magnet of the iron in our raft, turned our compass topsy-turvy." "ah!" cried the professor, with a loud and ringing laugh, "it was a trick of that inexplicable electricity." from that hour my uncle was the happiest of learned men, and i the happiest of ordinary mortals. for my pretty virland girl, abdicating her position as ward, took her place in the house in the konigstrasse in the double quality of niece and wife. we need scarcely mention that her uncle was the illustrious professor hardwigg, corresponding member of all the scientific, geographical, mineralogical, and geological societies of the five parts of the globe. end of the voyage extraordinaire at the earth's core by edgar rice burroughs contents prolog i toward the eternal fires ii a strange world iii a change of masters iv dian the beautiful v slaves vi the beginning of horror vii freedom viii the mahar temple ix the face of death x phutra again xi four dead mahars xii pursuit xiii the sly one xiv the garden of eden xv back to earth prolog in the first place please bear in mind that i do not expect you to believe this story. nor could you wonder had you witnessed a recent experience of mine when, in the armor of blissful and stupendous ignorance, i gaily narrated the gist of it to a fellow of the royal geological society on the occasion of my last trip to london. you would surely have thought that i had been detected in no less a heinous crime than the purloining of the crown jewels from the tower, or putting poison in the coffee of his majesty the king. the erudite gentleman in whom i confided congealed before i was half through!--it is all that saved him from exploding--and my dreams of an honorary fellowship, gold medals, and a niche in the hall of fame faded into the thin, cold air of his arctic atmosphere. but i believe the story, and so would you, and so would the learned fellow of the royal geological society, had you and he heard it from the lips of the man who told it to me. had you seen, as i did, the fire of truth in those gray eyes; had you felt the ring of sincerity in that quiet voice; had you realized the pathos of it all--you, too, would believe. you would not have needed the final ocular proof that i had--the weird rhamphorhynchus-like creature which he had brought back with him from the inner world. i came upon him quite suddenly, and no less unexpectedly, upon the rim of the great sahara desert. he was standing before a goat-skin tent amidst a clump of date palms within a tiny oasis. close by was an arab douar of some eight or ten tents. i had come down from the north to hunt lion. my party consisted of a dozen children of the desert--i was the only "white" man. as we approached the little clump of verdure i saw the man come from his tent and with hand-shaded eyes peer intently at us. at sight of me he advanced rapidly to meet us. "a white man!" he cried. "may the good lord be praised! i have been watching you for hours, hoping against hope that this time there would be a white man. tell me the date. what year is it?" and when i had told him he staggered as though he had been struck full in the face, so that he was compelled to grasp my stirrup leather for support. "it cannot be!" he cried after a moment. "it cannot be! tell me that you are mistaken, or that you are but joking." "i am telling you the truth, my friend," i replied. "why should i deceive a stranger, or attempt to, in so simple a matter as the date?" for some time he stood in silence, with bowed head. "ten years!" he murmured, at last. "ten years, and i thought that at the most it could be scarce more than one!" that night he told me his story--the story that i give you here as nearly in his own words as i can recall them. i toward the eternal fires i was born in connecticut about thirty years ago. my name is david innes. my father was a wealthy mine owner. when i was nineteen he died. all his property was to be mine when i had attained my majority--provided that i had devoted the two years intervening in close application to the great business i was to inherit. i did my best to fulfil the last wishes of my parent--not because of the inheritance, but because i loved and honored my father. for six months i toiled in the mines and in the counting-rooms, for i wished to know every minute detail of the business. then perry interested me in his invention. he was an old fellow who had devoted the better part of a long life to the perfection of a mechanical subterranean prospector. as relaxation he studied paleontology. i looked over his plans, listened to his arguments, inspected his working model--and then, convinced, i advanced the funds necessary to construct a full-sized, practical prospector. i shall not go into the details of its construction--it lies out there in the desert now--about two miles from here. tomorrow you may care to ride out and see it. roughly, it is a steel cylinder a hundred feet long, and jointed so that it may turn and twist through solid rock if need be. at one end is a mighty revolving drill operated by an engine which perry said generated more power to the cubic inch than any other engine did to the cubic foot. i remember that he used to claim that that invention alone would make us fabulously wealthy--we were going to make the whole thing public after the successful issue of our first secret trial--but perry never returned from that trial trip, and i only after ten years. i recall as it were but yesterday the night of that momentous occasion upon which we were to test the practicality of that wondrous invention. it was near midnight when we repaired to the lofty tower in which perry had constructed his "iron mole" as he was wont to call the thing. the great nose rested upon the bare earth of the floor. we passed through the doors into the outer jacket, secured them, and then passing on into the cabin, which contained the controlling mechanism within the inner tube, switched on the electric lights. perry looked to his generator; to the great tanks that held the life-giving chemicals with which he was to manufacture fresh air to replace that which we consumed in breathing; to his instruments for recording temperatures, speed, distance, and for examining the materials through which we were to pass. he tested the steering device, and overlooked the mighty cogs which transmitted its marvelous velocity to the giant drill at the nose of his strange craft. our seats, into which we strapped ourselves, were so arranged upon transverse bars that we would be upright whether the craft were ploughing her way downward into the bowels of the earth, or running horizontally along some great seam of coal, or rising vertically toward the surface again. at length all was ready. perry bowed his head in prayer. for a moment we were silent, and then the old man's hand grasped the starting lever. there was a frightful roaring beneath us--the giant frame trembled and vibrated--there was a rush of sound as the loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. we were off! the noise was deafening. the sensation was frightful. for a full minute neither of us could do aught but cling with the proverbial desperation of the drowning man to the handrails of our swinging seats. then perry glanced at the thermometer. "gad!" he cried, "it cannot be possible--quick! what does the distance meter read?" that and the speedometer were both on my side of the cabin, and as i turned to take a reading from the former i could see perry muttering. "ten degrees rise--it cannot be possible!" and then i saw him tug frantically upon the steering wheel. as i finally found the tiny needle in the dim light i translated perry's evident excitement, and my heart sank within me. but when i spoke i hid the fear which haunted me. "it will be seven hundred feet, perry," i said, "by the time you can turn her into the horizontal." "you'd better lend me a hand then, my boy," he replied, "for i cannot budge her out of the vertical alone. god give that our combined strength may be equal to the task, for else we are lost." i wormed my way to the old man's side with never a doubt but that the great wheel would yield on the instant to the power of my young and vigorous muscles. nor was my belief mere vanity, for always had my physique been the envy and despair of my fellows. and for that very reason it had waxed even greater than nature had intended, since my natural pride in my great strength had led me to care for and develop my body and my muscles by every means within my power. what with boxing, football, and baseball, i had been in training since childhood. and so it was with the utmost confidence that i laid hold of the huge iron rim; but though i threw every ounce of my strength into it, my best effort was as unavailing as perry's had been--the thing would not budge--the grim, insensate, horrible thing that was holding us upon the straight road to death! at length i gave up the useless struggle, and without a word returned to my seat. there was no need for words--at least none that i could imagine, unless perry desired to pray. and i was quite sure that he would, for he never left an opportunity neglected where he might sandwich in a prayer. he prayed when he arose in the morning, he prayed before he ate, he prayed when he had finished eating, and before he went to bed at night he prayed again. in between he often found excuses to pray even when the provocation seemed far-fetched to my worldly eyes--now that he was about to die i felt positive that i should witness a perfect orgy of prayer--if one may allude with such a simile to so solemn an act. but to my astonishment i discovered that with death staring him in the face abner perry was transformed into a new being. from his lips there flowed--not prayer--but a clear and limpid stream of undiluted profanity, and it was all directed at that quietly stubborn piece of unyielding mechanism. "i should think, perry," i chided, "that a man of your professed religiousness would rather be at his prayers than cursing in the presence of imminent death." "death!" he cried. "death is it that appalls you? that is nothing by comparison with the loss the world must suffer. why, david within this iron cylinder we have demonstrated possibilities that science has scarce dreamed. we have harnessed a new principle, and with it animated a piece of steel with the power of ten thousand men. that two lives will be snuffed out is nothing to the world calamity that entombs in the bowels of the earth the discoveries that i have made and proved in the successful construction of the thing that is now carrying us farther and farther toward the eternal central fires." i am frank to admit that for myself i was much more concerned with our own immediate future than with any problematic loss which the world might be about to suffer. the world was at least ignorant of its bereavement, while to me it was a real and terrible actuality. "what can we do?" i asked, hiding my perturbation beneath the mask of a low and level voice. "we may stop here, and die of asphyxiation when our atmosphere tanks are empty," replied perry, "or we may continue on with the slight hope that we may later sufficiently deflect the prospector from the vertical to carry us along the arc of a great circle which must eventually return us to the surface. if we succeed in so doing before we reach the higher internal temperature we may even yet survive. there would seem to me to be about one chance in several million that we shall succeed--otherwise we shall die more quickly but no more surely than as though we sat supinely waiting for the torture of a slow and horrible death." i glanced at the thermometer. it registered degrees. while we were talking the mighty iron mole had bored its way over a mile into the rock of the earth's crust. "let us continue on, then," i replied. "it should soon be over at this rate. you never intimated that the speed of this thing would be so high, perry. didn't you know it?" "no," he answered. "i could not figure the speed exactly, for i had no instrument for measuring the mighty power of my generator. i reasoned, however, that we should make about five hundred yards an hour." "and we are making seven miles an hour," i concluded for him, as i sat with my eyes upon the distance meter. "how thick is the earth's crust, perry?" i asked. "there are almost as many conjectures as to that as there are geologists," was his answer. "one estimates it thirty miles, because the internal heat, increasing at the rate of about one degree to each sixty to seventy feet depth, would be sufficient to fuse the most refractory substances at that distance beneath the surface. another finds that the phenomena of precession and nutation require that the earth, if not entirely solid, must at least have a shell not less than eight hundred to a thousand miles in thickness. so there you are. you may take your choice." "and if it should prove solid?" i asked. "it will be all the same to us in the end, david," replied perry. "at the best our fuel will suffice to carry us but three or four days, while our atmosphere cannot last to exceed three. neither, then, is sufficient to bear us in safety through eight thousand miles of rock to the antipodes." "if the crust is of sufficient thickness we shall come to a final stop between six and seven hundred miles beneath the earth's surface; but during the last hundred and fifty miles of our journey we shall be corpses. am i correct?" i asked. "quite correct, david. are you frightened?" "i do not know. it all has come so suddenly that i scarce believe that either of us realizes the real terrors of our position. i feel that i should be reduced to panic; but yet i am not. i imagine that the shock has been so great as to partially stun our sensibilities." again i turned to the thermometer. the mercury was rising with less rapidity. it was now but degrees, although we had penetrated to a depth of nearly four miles. i told perry, and he smiled. "we have shattered one theory at least," was his only comment, and then he returned to his self-assumed occupation of fluently cursing the steering wheel. i once heard a pirate swear, but his best efforts would have seemed like those of a tyro alongside of perry's masterful and scientific imprecations. once more i tried my hand at the wheel, but i might as well have essayed to swing the earth itself. at my suggestion perry stopped the generator, and as we came to rest i again threw all my strength into a supreme effort to move the thing even a hair's breadth--but the results were as barren as when we had been traveling at top speed. i shook my head sadly, and motioned to the starting lever. perry pulled it toward him, and once again we were plunging downward toward eternity at the rate of seven miles an hour. i sat with my eyes glued to the thermometer and the distance meter. the mercury was rising very slowly now, though even at degrees it was almost unbearable within the narrow confines of our metal prison. about noon, or twelve hours after our start upon this unfortunate journey, we had bored to a depth of eighty-four miles, at which point the mercury registered degrees f. perry was becoming more hopeful, although upon what meager food he sustained his optimism i could not conjecture. from cursing he had turned to singing--i felt that the strain had at last affected his mind. for several hours we had not spoken except as he asked me for the readings of the instruments from time to time, and i announced them. my thoughts were filled with vain regrets. i recalled numerous acts of my past life which i should have been glad to have had a few more years to live down. there was the affair in the latin commons at andover when calhoun and i had put gunpowder in the stove--and nearly killed one of the masters. and then--but what was the use, i was about to die and atone for all these things and several more. already the heat was sufficient to give me a foretaste of the hereafter. a few more degrees and i felt that i should lose consciousness. "what are the readings now, david?" perry's voice broke in upon my somber reflections. "ninety miles and degrees," i replied. "gad, but we've knocked that thirty-mile-crust theory into a cocked hat!" he cried gleefully. "precious lot of good it will do us," i growled back. "but my boy," he continued, "doesn't that temperature reading mean anything to you? why it hasn't gone up in six miles. think of it, son!" "yes, i'm thinking of it," i answered; "but what difference will it make when our air supply is exhausted whether the temperature is degrees or , ? we'll be just as dead, and no one will know the difference, anyhow." but i must admit that for some unaccountable reason the stationary temperature did renew my waning hope. what i hoped for i could not have explained, nor did i try. the very fact, as perry took pains to explain, of the blasting of several very exact and learned scientific hypotheses made it apparent that we could not know what lay before us within the bowels of the earth, and so we might continue to hope for the best, at least until we were dead--when hope would no longer be essential to our happiness. it was very good, and logical reasoning, and so i embraced it. at one hundred miles the temperature had dropped to / degrees! when i announced it perry reached over and hugged me. from then on until noon of the second day, it continued to drop until it became as uncomfortably cold as it had been unbearably hot before. at the depth of two hundred and forty miles our nostrils were assailed by almost overpowering ammonia fumes, and the temperature had dropped to ten below zero! we suffered nearly two hours of this intense and bitter cold, until at about two hundred and forty-five miles from the surface of the earth we entered a stratum of solid ice, when the mercury quickly rose to degrees. during the next three hours we passed through ten miles of ice, eventually emerging into another series of ammonia-impregnated strata, where the mercury again fell to ten degrees below zero. slowly it rose once more until we were convinced that at last we were nearing the molten interior of the earth. at four hundred miles the temperature had reached degrees. feverishly i watched the thermometer. slowly it rose. perry had ceased singing and was at last praying. our hopes had received such a deathblow that the gradually increasing heat seemed to our distorted imaginations much greater than it really was. for another hour i saw that pitiless column of mercury rise and rise until at four hundred and ten miles it stood at degrees. now it was that we began to hang upon those readings in almost breathless anxiety. one hundred and fifty-three degrees had been the maximum temperature above the ice stratum. would it stop at this point again, or would it continue its merciless climb? we knew that there was no hope, and yet with the persistence of life itself we continued to hope against practical certainty. already the air tanks were at low ebb--there was barely enough of the precious gases to sustain us for another twelve hours. but would we be alive to know or care? it seemed incredible. at four hundred and twenty miles i took another reading. "perry!" i shouted. "perry, man! she's going down! she's going down! she's degrees again." "gad!" he cried. "what can it mean? can the earth be cold at the center?" "i do not know, perry," i answered; "but thank god, if i am to die it shall not be by fire--that is all that i have feared. i can face the thought of any death but that." down, down went the mercury until it stood as low as it had seven miles from the surface of the earth, and then of a sudden the realization broke upon us that death was very near. perry was the first to discover it. i saw him fussing with the valves that regulate the air supply. and at the same time i experienced difficulty in breathing. my head felt dizzy--my limbs heavy. i saw perry crumple in his seat. he gave himself a shake and sat erect again. then he turned toward me. "good-bye, david," he said. "i guess this is the end," and then he smiled and closed his eyes. "good-bye, perry, and good luck to you," i answered, smiling back at him. but i fought off that awful lethargy. i was very young--i did not want to die. for an hour i battled against the cruelly enveloping death that surrounded me upon all sides. at first i found that by climbing high into the framework above me i could find more of the precious life-giving elements, and for a while these sustained me. it must have been an hour after perry had succumbed that i at last came to the realization that i could no longer carry on this unequal struggle against the inevitable. with my last flickering ray of consciousness i turned mechanically toward the distance meter. it stood at exactly five hundred miles from the earth's surface--and then of a sudden the huge thing that bore us came to a stop. the rattle of hurtling rock through the hollow jacket ceased. the wild racing of the giant drill betokened that it was running loose in air--and then another truth flashed upon me. the point of the prospector was above us. slowly it dawned on me that since passing through the ice strata it had been above. we had turned in the ice and sped upward toward the earth's crust. thank god! we were safe! i put my nose to the intake pipe through which samples were to have been taken during the passage of the prospector through the earth, and my fondest hopes were realized--a flood of fresh air was pouring into the iron cabin. the reaction left me in a state of collapse, and i lost consciousness. ii a strange world i was unconscious little more than an instant, for as i lunged forward from the crossbeam to which i had been clinging, and fell with a crash to the floor of the cabin, the shock brought me to myself. my first concern was with perry. i was horrified at the thought that upon the very threshold of salvation he might be dead. tearing open his shirt i placed my ear to his breast. i could have cried with relief--his heart was beating quite regularly. at the water tank i wetted my handkerchief, slapping it smartly across his forehead and face several times. in a moment i was rewarded by the raising of his lids. for a time he lay wide-eyed and quite uncomprehending. then his scattered wits slowly foregathered, and he sat up sniffing the air with an expression of wonderment upon his face. "why, david," he cried at last, "it's air, as sure as i live. why--why what does it mean? where in the world are we? what has happened?" "it means that we're back at the surface all right, perry," i cried; "but where, i don't know. i haven't opened her up yet. been too busy reviving you. lord, man, but you had a close squeak!" "you say we're back at the surface, david? how can that be? how long have i been unconscious?" "not long. we turned in the ice stratum. don't you recall the sudden whirling of our seats? after that the drill was above you instead of below. we didn't notice it at the time; but i recall it now." "you mean to say that we turned back in the ice stratum, david? that is not possible. the prospector cannot turn unless its nose is deflected from the outside--by some external force or resistance--the steering wheel within would have moved in response. the steering wheel has not budged, david, since we started. you know that." i did know it; but here we were with our drill racing in pure air, and copious volumes of it pouring into the cabin. "we couldn't have turned in the ice stratum, perry, i know as well as you," i replied; "but the fact remains that we did, for here we are this minute at the surface of the earth again, and i am going out to see just where." "better wait till morning, david--it must be midnight now." i glanced at the chronometer. "half after twelve. we have been out seventy-two hours, so it must be midnight. nevertheless i am going to have a look at the blessed sky that i had given up all hope of ever seeing again," and so saying i lifted the bars from the inner door, and swung it open. there was quite a quantity of loose material in the jacket, and this i had to remove with a shovel to get at the opposite door in the outer shell. in a short time i had removed enough of the earth and rock to the floor of the cabin to expose the door beyond. perry was directly behind me as i threw it open. the upper half was above the surface of the ground. with an expression of surprise i turned and looked at perry--it was broad daylight without! "something seems to have gone wrong either with our calculations or the chronometer," i said. perry shook his head--there was a strange expression in his eyes. "let's have a look beyond that door, david," he cried. together we stepped out to stand in silent contemplation of a landscape at once weird and beautiful. before us a low and level shore stretched down to a silent sea. as far as the eye could reach the surface of the water was dotted with countless tiny isles--some of towering, barren, granitic rock--others resplendent in gorgeous trappings of tropical vegetation, myriad starred with the magnificent splendor of vivid blooms. behind us rose a dark and forbidding wood of giant arborescent ferns intermingled with the commoner types of a primeval tropical forest. huge creepers depended in great loops from tree to tree, dense under-brush overgrew a tangled mass of fallen trunks and branches. upon the outer verge we could see the same splendid coloring of countless blossoms that glorified the islands, but within the dense shadows all seemed dark and gloomy as the grave. and upon all the noonday sun poured its torrid rays out of a cloudless sky. "where on earth can we be?" i asked, turning to perry. for some moments the old man did not reply. he stood with bowed head, buried in deep thought. but at last he spoke. "david," he said, "i am not so sure that we are on earth." "what do you mean, perry?" i cried. "do you think that we are dead, and this is heaven?" he smiled, and turning, pointing to the nose of the prospector protruding from the ground at our backs. "but for that, david, i might believe that we were indeed come to the country beyond the styx. the prospector renders that theory untenable--it, certainly, could never have gone to heaven. however i am willing to concede that we actually may be in another world from that which we have always known. if we are not on earth, there is every reason to believe that we may be in it." "we may have quartered through the earth's crust and come out upon some tropical island of the west indies," i suggested. again perry shook his head. "let us wait and see, david," he replied, "and in the meantime suppose we do a bit of exploring up and down the coast--we may find a native who can enlighten us." as we walked along the beach perry gazed long and earnestly across the water. evidently he was wrestling with a mighty problem. "david," he said abruptly, "do you perceive anything unusual about the horizon?" as i looked i began to appreciate the reason for the strangeness of the landscape that had haunted me from the first with an illusive suggestion of the bizarre and unnatural--there was no horizon! as far as the eye could reach out the sea continued and upon its bosom floated tiny islands, those in the distance reduced to mere specks; but ever beyond them was the sea, until the impression became quite real that one was looking up at the most distant point that the eyes could fathom--the distance was lost in the distance. that was all--there was no clear-cut horizontal line marking the dip of the globe below the line of vision. "a great light is commencing to break on me," continued perry, taking out his watch. "i believe that i have partially solved the riddle. it is now two o'clock. when we emerged from the prospector the sun was directly above us. where is it now?" i glanced up to find the great orb still motionless in the center of the heaven. and such a sun! i had scarcely noticed it before. fully thrice the size of the sun i had known throughout my life, and apparently so near that the sight of it carried the conviction that one might almost reach up and touch it. "my god, perry, where are we?" i exclaimed. "this thing is beginning to get on my nerves." "i think that i may state quite positively, david," he commenced, "that we are--" but he got no further. from behind us in the vicinity of the prospector there came the most thunderous, awe-inspiring roar that ever had fallen upon my ears. with one accord we turned to discover the author of that fearsome noise. had i still retained the suspicion that we were on earth the sight that met my eyes would quite entirely have banished it. emerging from the forest was a colossal beast which closely resembled a bear. it was fully as large as the largest elephant and with great forepaws armed with huge claws. its nose, or snout, depended nearly a foot below its lower jaw, much after the manner of a rudimentary trunk. the giant body was covered by a coat of thick, shaggy hair. roaring horribly it came toward us at a ponderous, shuffling trot. i turned to perry to suggest that it might be wise to seek other surroundings--the idea had evidently occurred to perry previously, for he was already a hundred paces away, and with each second his prodigious bounds increased the distance. i had never guessed what latent speed possibilities the old gentleman possessed. i saw that he was headed toward a little point of the forest which ran out toward the sea not far from where we had been standing, and as the mighty creature, the sight of which had galvanized him into such remarkable action, was forging steadily toward me, i set off after perry, though at a somewhat more decorous pace. it was evident that the massive beast pursuing us was not built for speed, so all that i considered necessary was to gain the trees sufficiently ahead of it to enable me to climb to the safety of some great branch before it came up. notwithstanding our danger i could not help but laugh at perry's frantic capers as he essayed to gain the safety of the lower branches of the trees he now had reached. the stems were bare for a distance of some fifteen feet--at least on those trees which perry attempted to ascend, for the suggestion of safety carried by the larger of the forest giants had evidently attracted him to them. a dozen times he scrambled up the trunks like a huge cat only to fall back to the ground once more, and with each failure he cast a horrified glance over his shoulder at the oncoming brute, simultaneously emitting terror-stricken shrieks that awoke the echoes of the grim forest. at length he spied a dangling creeper about the bigness of one's wrist, and when i reached the trees he was racing madly up it, hand over hand. he had almost reached the lowest branch of the tree from which the creeper depended when the thing parted beneath his weight and he fell sprawling at my feet. the misfortune now was no longer amusing, for the beast was already too close to us for comfort. seizing perry by the shoulder i dragged him to his feet, and rushing to a smaller tree--one that he could easily encircle with his arms and legs--i boosted him as far up as i could, and then left him to his fate, for a glance over my shoulder revealed the awful beast almost upon me. it was the great size of the thing alone that saved me. its enormous bulk rendered it too slow upon its feet to cope with the agility of my young muscles, and so i was enabled to dodge out of its way and run completely behind it before its slow wits could direct it in pursuit. the few seconds of grace that this gave me found me safely lodged in the branches of a tree a few paces from that in which perry had at last found a haven. did i say safely lodged? at the time i thought we were quite safe, and so did perry. he was praying--raising his voice in thanksgiving at our deliverance--and had just completed a sort of paeon of gratitude that the thing couldn't climb a tree when without warning it reared up beneath him on its enormous tail and hind feet, and reached those fearfully armed paws quite to the branch upon which he crouched. the accompanying roar was all but drowned in perry's scream of fright, and he came near tumbling headlong into the gaping jaws beneath him, so precipitate was his impetuous haste to vacate the dangerous limb. it was with a deep sigh of relief that i saw him gain a higher branch in safety. and then the brute did that which froze us both anew with horror. grasping the tree's stem with his powerful paws he dragged down with all the great weight of his huge bulk and all the irresistible force of those mighty muscles. slowly, but surely, the stem began to bend toward him. inch by inch he worked his paws upward as the tree leaned more and more from the perpendicular. perry clung chattering in a panic of terror. higher and higher into the bending and swaying tree he clambered. more and more rapidly was the tree top inclining toward the ground. i saw now why the great brute was armed with such enormous paws. the use that he was putting them to was precisely that for which nature had intended them. the sloth-like creature was herbivorous, and to feed that mighty carcass entire trees must be stripped of their foliage. the reason for its attacking us might easily be accounted for on the supposition of an ugly disposition such as that which the fierce and stupid rhinoceros of africa possesses. but these were later reflections. at the moment i was too frantic with apprehension on perry's behalf to consider aught other than a means to save him from the death that loomed so close. realizing that i could outdistance the clumsy brute in the open, i dropped from my leafy sanctuary intent only on distracting the thing's attention from perry long enough to enable the old man to gain the safety of a larger tree. there were many close by which not even the terrific strength of that titanic monster could bend. as i touched the ground i snatched a broken limb from the tangled mass that matted the jungle-like floor of the forest and, leaping unnoticed behind the shaggy back, dealt the brute a terrific blow. my plan worked like magic. from the previous slowness of the beast i had been led to look for no such marvelous agility as he now displayed. releasing his hold upon the tree he dropped on all fours and at the same time swung his great, wicked tail with a force that would have broken every bone in my body had it struck me; but, fortunately, i had turned to flee at the very instant that i felt my blow land upon the towering back. as it started in pursuit of me i made the mistake of running along the edge of the forest rather than making for the open beach. in a moment i was knee-deep in rotting vegetation, and the awful thing behind me was gaining rapidly as i floundered and fell in my efforts to extricate myself. a fallen log gave me an instant's advantage, for climbing upon it i leaped to another a few paces farther on, and in this way was able to keep clear of the mush that carpeted the surrounding ground. but the zigzag course that this necessitated was placing such a heavy handicap upon me that my pursuer was steadily gaining upon me. suddenly from behind i heard a tumult of howls, and sharp, piercing barks--much the sound that a pack of wolves raises when in full cry. involuntarily i glanced backward to discover the origin of this new and menacing note with the result that i missed my footing and went sprawling once more upon my face in the deep muck. my mammoth enemy was so close by this time that i knew i must feel the weight of one of his terrible paws before i could rise, but to my surprise the blow did not fall upon me. the howling and snapping and barking of the new element which had been infused into the melee now seemed centered quite close behind me, and as i raised myself upon my hands and glanced around i saw what it was that had distracted the dyryth, as i afterward learned the thing is called, from my trail. it was surrounded by a pack of some hundred wolf-like creatures--wild dogs they seemed--that rushed growling and snapping in upon it from all sides, so that they sank their white fangs into the slow brute and were away again before it could reach them with its huge paws or sweeping tail. but these were not all that my startled eyes perceived. chattering and gibbering through the lower branches of the trees came a company of manlike creatures evidently urging on the dog pack. they were to all appearances strikingly similar in aspect to the negro of africa. their skins were very black, and their features much like those of the more pronounced negroid type except that the head receded more rapidly above the eyes, leaving little or no forehead. their arms were rather longer and their legs shorter in proportion to the torso than in man, and later i noticed that their great toes protruded at right angles from their feet--because of their arboreal habits, i presume. behind them trailed long, slender tails which they used in climbing quite as much as they did either their hands or feet. i had stumbled to my feet the moment that i discovered that the wolf-dogs were holding the dyryth at bay. at sight of me several of the savage creatures left off worrying the great brute to come slinking with bared fangs toward me, and as i turned to run toward the trees again to seek safety among the lower branches, i saw a number of the man-apes leaping and chattering in the foliage of the nearest tree. between them and the beasts behind me there was little choice, but at least there was a doubt as to the reception these grotesque parodies on humanity would accord me, while there was none as to the fate which awaited me beneath the grinning fangs of my fierce pursuers. and so i raced on toward the trees intending to pass beneath that which held the man-things and take refuge in another farther on; but the wolf-dogs were very close behind me--so close that i had despaired of escaping them, when one of the creatures in the tree above swung down headforemost, his tail looped about a great limb, and grasping me beneath my armpits swung me in safety up among his fellows. there they fell to examining me with the utmost excitement and curiosity. they picked at my clothing, my hair, and my flesh. they turned me about to see if i had a tail, and when they discovered that i was not so equipped they fell into roars of laughter. their teeth were very large and white and even, except for the upper canines which were a trifle longer than the others--protruding just a bit when the mouth was closed. when they had examined me for a few moments one of them discovered that my clothing was not a part of me, with the result that garment by garment they tore it from me amidst peals of the wildest laughter. apelike, they essayed to don the apparel themselves, but their ingenuity was not sufficient to the task and so they gave it up. in the meantime i had been straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of perry, but nowhere about could i see him, although the clump of trees in which he had first taken refuge was in full view. i was much exercised by fear that something had befallen him, and though i called his name aloud several times there was no response. tired at last of playing with my clothing the creatures threw it to the ground, and catching me, one on either side, by an arm, started off at a most terrifying pace through the tree tops. never have i experienced such a journey before or since--even now i oftentimes awake from a deep sleep haunted by the horrid remembrance of that awful experience. from tree to tree the agile creatures sprang like flying squirrels, while the cold sweat stood upon my brow as i glimpsed the depths beneath, into which a single misstep on the part of either of my bearers would hurl me. as they bore me along, my mind was occupied with a thousand bewildering thoughts. what had become of perry? would i ever see him again? what were the intentions of these half-human things into whose hands i had fallen? were they inhabitants of the same world into which i had been born? no! it could not be. but yet where else? i had not left that earth--of that i was sure. still neither could i reconcile the things which i had seen to a belief that i was still in the world of my birth. with a sigh i gave it up. iii a change of masters we must have traveled several miles through the dark and dismal wood when we came suddenly upon a dense village built high among the branches of the trees. as we approached it my escort broke into wild shouting which was immediately answered from within, and a moment later a swarm of creatures of the same strange race as those who had captured me poured out to meet us. again i was the center of a wildly chattering horde. i was pulled this way and that. pinched, pounded, and thumped until i was black and blue, yet i do not think that their treatment was dictated by either cruelty or malice--i was a curiosity, a freak, a new plaything, and their childish minds required the added evidence of all their senses to back up the testimony of their eyes. presently they dragged me within the village, which consisted of several hundred rude shelters of boughs and leaves supported upon the branches of the trees. between the huts, which sometimes formed crooked streets, were dead branches and the trunks of small trees which connected the huts upon one tree to those within adjoining trees; the whole network of huts and pathways forming an almost solid flooring a good fifty feet above the ground. i wondered why these agile creatures required connecting bridges between the trees, but later when i saw the motley aggregation of half-savage beasts which they kept within their village i realized the necessity for the pathways. there were a number of the same vicious wolf-dogs which we had left worrying the dyryth, and many goatlike animals whose distended udders explained the reasons for their presence. my guard halted before one of the huts into which i was pushed; then two of the creatures squatted down before the entrance--to prevent my escape, doubtless. though where i should have escaped to i certainly had not the remotest conception. i had no more than entered the dark shadows of the interior than there fell upon my ears the tones of a familiar voice, in prayer. "perry!" i cried. "dear old perry! thank the lord you are safe." "david! can it be possible that you escaped?" and the old man stumbled toward me and threw his arms about me. he had seen me fall before the dyryth, and then he had been seized by a number of the ape-creatures and borne through the tree tops to their village. his captors had been as inquisitive as to his strange clothing as had mine, with the same result. as we looked at each other we could not help but laugh. "with a tail, david," remarked perry, "you would make a very handsome ape." "maybe we can borrow a couple," i rejoined. "they seem to be quite the thing this season. i wonder what the creatures intend doing with us, perry. they don't seem really savage. what do you suppose they can be? you were about to tell me where we are when that great hairy frigate bore down upon us--have you really any idea at all?" "yes, david," he replied, "i know precisely where we are. we have made a magnificent discovery, my boy! we have proved that the earth is hollow. we have passed entirely through its crust to the inner world." "perry, you are mad!" "not at all, david. for two hundred and fifty miles our prospector bore us through the crust beneath our outer world. at that point it reached the center of gravity of the five-hundred-mile-thick crust. up to that point we had been descending--direction is, of course, merely relative. then at the moment that our seats revolved--the thing that made you believe that we had turned about and were speeding upward--we passed the center of gravity and, though we did not alter the direction of our progress, yet we were in reality moving upward--toward the surface of the inner world. does not the strange fauna and flora which we have seen convince you that you are not in the world of your birth? and the horizon--could it present the strange aspects which we both noted unless we were indeed standing upon the inside surface of a sphere?" "but the sun, perry!" i urged. "how in the world can the sun shine through five hundred miles of solid crust?" "it is not the sun of the outer world that we see here. it is another sun--an entirely different sun--that casts its eternal noonday effulgence upon the face of the inner world. look at it now, david--if you can see it from the doorway of this hut--and you will see that it is still in the exact center of the heavens. we have been here for many hours--yet it is still noon. "and withal it is very simple, david. the earth was once a nebulous mass. it cooled, and as it cooled it shrank. at length a thin crust of solid matter formed upon its outer surface--a sort of shell; but within it was partially molten matter and highly expanded gases. as it continued to cool, what happened? centrifugal force hurled the particles of the nebulous center toward the crust as rapidly as they approached a solid state. you have seen the same principle practically applied in the modern cream separator. presently there was only a small super-heated core of gaseous matter remaining within a huge vacant interior left by the contraction of the cooling gases. the equal attraction of the solid crust from all directions maintained this luminous core in the exact center of the hollow globe. what remains of it is the sun you saw today--a relatively tiny thing at the exact center of the earth. equally to every part of this inner world it diffuses its perpetual noonday light and torrid heat. "this inner world must have cooled sufficiently to support animal life long ages after life appeared upon the outer crust, but that the same agencies were at work here is evident from the similar forms of both animal and vegetable creation which we have already seen. take the great beast which attacked us, for example. unquestionably a counterpart of the megatherium of the post-pliocene period of the outer crust, whose fossilized skeleton has been found in south america." "but the grotesque inhabitants of this forest?" i urged. "surely they have no counterpart in the earth's history." "who can tell?" he rejoined. "they may constitute the link between ape and man, all traces of which have been swallowed by the countless convulsions which have racked the outer crust, or they may be merely the result of evolution along slightly different lines--either is quite possible." further speculation was interrupted by the appearance of several of our captors before the entrance of the hut. two of them entered and dragged us forth. the perilous pathways and the surrounding trees were filled with the black ape-men, their females, and their young. there was not an ornament, a weapon, or a garment among the lot. "quite low in the scale of creation," commented perry. "quite high enough to play the deuce with us, though," i replied. "now what do you suppose they intend doing with us?" we were not long in learning. as on the occasion of our trip to the village we were seized by a couple of the powerful creatures and whirled away through the tree tops, while about us and in our wake raced a chattering, jabbering, grinning horde of sleek, black ape-things. twice my bearers missed their footing, and my heart ceased beating as we plunged toward instant death among the tangled deadwood beneath. but on both occasions those lithe, powerful tails reached out and found sustaining branches, nor did either of the creatures loosen their grasp upon me. in fact, it seemed that the incidents were of no greater moment to them than would be the stubbing of one's toe at a street crossing in the outer world--they but laughed uproariously and sped on with me. for some time they continued through the forest--how long i could not guess for i was learning, what was later borne very forcefully to my mind, that time ceases to be a factor the moment means for measuring it cease to exist. our watches were gone, and we were living beneath a stationary sun. already i was puzzled to compute the period of time which had elapsed since we broke through the crust of the inner world. it might be hours, or it might be days--who in the world could tell where it was always noon! by the sun, no time had elapsed--but my judgment told me that we must have been several hours in this strange world. presently the forest terminated, and we came out upon a level plain. a short distance before us rose a few low, rocky hills. toward these our captors urged us, and after a short time led us through a narrow pass into a tiny, circular valley. here they got down to work, and we were soon convinced that if we were not to die to make a roman holiday, we were to die for some other purpose. the attitude of our captors altered immediately as they entered the natural arena within the rocky hills. their laughter ceased. grim ferocity marked their bestial faces--bared fangs menaced us. we were placed in the center of the amphitheater--the thousand creatures forming a great ring about us. then a wolf-dog was brought--hyaenodon perry called it--and turned loose with us inside the circle. the thing's body was as large as that of a full-grown mastiff, its legs were short and powerful, and its jaws broad and strong. dark, shaggy hair covered its back and sides, while its breast and belly were quite white. as it slunk toward us it presented a most formidable aspect with its upcurled lips baring its mighty fangs. perry was on his knees, praying. i stooped and picked up a small stone. at my movement the beast veered off a bit and commenced circling us. evidently it had been a target for stones before. the ape-things were dancing up and down urging the brute on with savage cries, until at last, seeing that i did not throw, he charged us. at andover, and later at yale, i had pitched on winning ball teams. my speed and control must both have been above the ordinary, for i made such a record during my senior year at college that overtures were made to me in behalf of one of the great major-league teams; but in the tightest pitch that ever had confronted me in the past i had never been in such need for control as now. as i wound up for the delivery, i held my nerves and muscles under absolute command, though the grinning jaws were hurtling toward me at terrific speed. and then i let go, with every ounce of my weight and muscle and science in back of that throw. the stone caught the hyaenodon full upon the end of the nose, and sent him bowling over upon his back. at the same instant a chorus of shrieks and howls arose from the circle of spectators, so that for a moment i thought that the upsetting of their champion was the cause; but in this i soon saw that i was mistaken. as i looked, the ape-things broke in all directions toward the surrounding hills, and then i distinguished the real cause of their perturbation. behind them, streaming through the pass which leads into the valley, came a swarm of hairy men--gorilla-like creatures armed with spears and hatchets, and bearing long, oval shields. like demons they set upon the ape-things, and before them the hyaenodon, which had now regained its senses and its feet, fled howling with fright. past us swept the pursued and the pursuers, nor did the hairy ones accord us more than a passing glance until the arena had been emptied of its former occupants. then they returned to us, and one who seemed to have authority among them directed that we be brought with them. when we had passed out of the amphitheater onto the great plain we saw a caravan of men and women--human beings like ourselves--and for the first time hope and relief filled my heart, until i could have cried out in the exuberance of my happiness. it is true that they were a half-naked, wild-appearing aggregation; but they at least were fashioned along the same lines as ourselves--there was nothing grotesque or horrible about them as about the other creatures in this strange, weird world. but as we came closer, our hearts sank once more, for we discovered that the poor wretches were chained neck to neck in a long line, and that the gorilla-men were their guards. with little ceremony perry and i were chained at the end of the line, and without further ado the interrupted march was resumed. up to this time the excitement had kept us both up; but now the tiresome monotony of the long march across the sun-baked plain brought on all the agonies consequent to a long-denied sleep. on and on we stumbled beneath that hateful noonday sun. if we fell we were prodded with a sharp point. our companions in chains did not stumble. they strode along proudly erect. occasionally they would exchange words with one another in a monosyllabic language. they were a noble-appearing race with well-formed heads and perfect physiques. the men were heavily bearded, tall and muscular; the women, smaller and more gracefully molded, with great masses of raven hair caught into loose knots upon their heads. the features of both sexes were well proportioned--there was not a face among them that would have been called even plain if judged by earthly standards. they wore no ornaments; but this i later learned was due to the fact that their captors had stripped them of everything of value. as garmenture the women possessed a single robe of some light-colored, spotted hide, rather similar in appearance to a leopard's skin. this they wore either supported entirely about the waist by a leathern thong, so that it hung partially below the knee on one side, or possibly looped gracefully across one shoulder. their feet were shod with skin sandals. the men wore loin cloths of the hide of some shaggy beast, long ends of which depended before and behind nearly to the ground. in some instances these ends were finished with the strong talons of the beast from which the hides had been taken. our guards, whom i already have described as gorilla-like men, were rather lighter in build than a gorilla, but even so they were indeed mighty creatures. their arms and legs were proportioned more in conformity with human standards, but their entire bodies were covered with shaggy, brown hair, and their faces were quite as brutal as those of the few stuffed specimens of the gorilla which i had seen in the museums at home. their only redeeming feature lay in the development of the head above and back of the ears. in this respect they were not one whit less human than we. they were clothed in a sort of tunic of light cloth which reached to the knees. beneath this they wore only a loin cloth of the same material, while their feet were shod with thick hide of some mammoth creature of this inner world. their arms and necks were encircled by many ornaments of metal--silver predominating--and on their tunics were sewn the heads of tiny reptiles in odd and rather artistic designs. they talked among themselves as they marched along on either side of us, but in a language which i perceived differed from that employed by our fellow prisoners. when they addressed the latter they used what appeared to be a third language, and which i later learned is a mongrel tongue rather analogous to the pidgin-english of the chinese coolie. how far we marched i have no conception, nor has perry. both of us were asleep much of the time for hours before a halt was called--then we dropped in our tracks. i say "for hours," but how may one measure time where time does not exist! when our march commenced the sun stood at zenith. when we halted our shadows still pointed toward nadir. whether an instant or an eternity of earthly time elapsed who may say. that march may have occupied nine years and eleven months of the ten years that i spent in the inner world, or it may have been accomplished in the fraction of a second--i cannot tell. but this i do know that since you have told me that ten years have elapsed since i departed from this earth i have lost all respect for time--i am commencing to doubt that such a thing exists other than in the weak, finite mind of man. iv dian the beautiful when our guards aroused us from sleep we were much refreshed. they gave us food. strips of dried meat it was, but it put new life and strength into us, so that now we too marched with high-held heads, and took noble strides. at least i did, for i was young and proud; but poor perry hated walking. on earth i had often seen him call a cab to travel a square--he was paying for it now, and his old legs wobbled so that i put my arm about him and half carried him through the balance of those frightful marches. the country began to change at last, and we wound up out of the level plain through mighty mountains of virgin granite. the tropical verdure of the lowlands was replaced by hardier vegetation, but even here the effects of constant heat and light were apparent in the immensity of the trees and the profusion of foliage and blooms. crystal streams roared through their rocky channels, fed by the perpetual snows which we could see far above us. above the snowcapped heights hung masses of heavy clouds. it was these, perry explained, which evidently served the double purpose of replenishing the melting snows and protecting them from the direct rays of the sun. by this time we had picked up a smattering of the bastard language in which our guards addressed us, as well as making good headway in the rather charming tongue of our co-captives. directly ahead of me in the chain gang was a young woman. three feet of chain linked us together in a forced companionship which i, at least, soon rejoiced in. for i found her a willing teacher, and from her i learned the language of her tribe, and much of the life and customs of the inner world--at least that part of it with which she was familiar. she told me that she was called dian the beautiful, and that she belonged to the tribe of amoz, which dwells in the cliffs above the darel az, or shallow sea. "how came you here?" i asked her. "i was running away from jubal the ugly one," she answered, as though that was explanation quite sufficient. "who is jubal the ugly one?" i asked. "and why did you run away from him?" she looked at me in surprise. "why does a woman run away from a man?" she answered my question with another. "they do not, where i come from," i replied. "sometimes they run after them." but she could not understand. nor could i get her to grasp the fact that i was of another world. she was quite as positive that creation was originated solely to produce her own kind and the world she lived in as are many of the outer world. "but jubal," i insisted. "tell me about him, and why you ran away to be chained by the neck and scourged across the face of a world." "jubal the ugly one placed his trophy before my father's house. it was the head of a mighty tandor. it remained there and no greater trophy was placed beside it. so i knew that jubal the ugly one would come and take me as his mate. none other so powerful wished me, or they would have slain a mightier beast and thus have won me from jubal. my father is not a mighty hunter. once he was, but a sadok tossed him, and never again had he the full use of his right arm. my brother, dacor the strong one, had gone to the land of sari to steal a mate for himself. thus there was none, father, brother, or lover, to save me from jubal the ugly one, and i ran away and hid among the hills that skirt the land of amoz. and there these sagoths found me and made me captive." "what will they do with you?" i asked. "where are they taking us?" again she looked her incredulity. "i can almost believe that you are of another world," she said, "for otherwise such ignorance were inexplicable. do you really mean that you do not know that the sagoths are the creatures of the mahars--the mighty mahars who think they own pellucidar and all that walks or grows upon its surface, or creeps or burrows beneath, or swims within its lakes and oceans, or flies through its air? next you will be telling me that you never before heard of the mahars!" i was loath to do it, and further incur her scorn; but there was no alternative if i were to absorb knowledge, so i made a clean breast of my pitiful ignorance as to the mighty mahars. she was shocked. but she did her very best to enlighten me, though much that she said was as greek would have been to her. she described the mahars largely by comparisons. in this way they were like unto thipdars, in that to the hairless lidi. about all i gleaned of them was that they were quite hideous, had wings, and webbed feet; lived in cities built beneath the ground; could swim under water for great distances, and were very, very wise. the sagoths were their weapons of offense and defense, and the races like herself were their hands and feet--they were the slaves and servants who did all the manual labor. the mahars were the heads--the brains--of the inner world. i longed to see this wondrous race of supermen. perry learned the language with me. when we halted, as we occasionally did, though sometimes the halts seemed ages apart, he would join in the conversation, as would ghak the hairy one, he who was chained just ahead of dian the beautiful. ahead of ghak was hooja the sly one. he too entered the conversation occasionally. most of his remarks were directed toward dian the beautiful. it didn't take half an eye to see that he had developed a bad case; but the girl appeared totally oblivious to his thinly veiled advances. did i say thinly veiled? there is a race of men in new zealand, or australia, i have forgotten which, who indicate their preference for the lady of their affections by banging her over the head with a bludgeon. by comparison with this method hooja's lovemaking might be called thinly veiled. at first it caused me to blush violently although i have seen several old years out at rectors, and in other less fashionable places off broadway, and in vienna, and hamburg. but the girl! she was magnificent. it was easy to see that she considered herself as entirely above and apart from her present surroundings and company. she talked with me, and with perry, and with the taciturn ghak because we were respectful; but she couldn't even see hooja the sly one, much less hear him, and that made him furious. he tried to get one of the sagoths to move the girl up ahead of him in the slave gang, but the fellow only poked him with his spear and told him that he had selected the girl for his own property--that he would buy her from the mahars as soon as they reached phutra. phutra, it seemed, was the city of our destination. after passing over the first chain of mountains we skirted a salt sea, upon whose bosom swam countless horrid things. seal-like creatures there were with long necks stretching ten and more feet above their enormous bodies and whose snake heads were split with gaping mouths bristling with countless fangs. there were huge tortoises too, paddling about among these other reptiles, which perry said were plesiosaurs of the lias. i didn't question his veracity--they might have been most anything. dian told me they were tandorazes, or tandors of the sea, and that the other, and more fearsome reptiles, which occasionally rose from the deep to do battle with them, were azdyryths, or sea-dyryths--perry called them ichthyosaurs. they resembled a whale with the head of an alligator. i had forgotten what little geology i had studied at school--about all that remained was an impression of horror that the illustrations of restored prehistoric monsters had made upon me, and a well-defined belief that any man with a pig's shank and a vivid imagination could "restore" most any sort of paleolithic monster he saw fit, and take rank as a first class paleontologist. but when i saw these sleek, shiny carcasses shimmering in the sunlight as they emerged from the ocean, shaking their giant heads; when i saw the waters roll from their sinuous bodies in miniature waterfalls as they glided hither and thither, now upon the surface, now half submerged; as i saw them meet, open-mouthed, hissing and snorting, in their titanic and interminable warring i realized how futile is man's poor, weak imagination by comparison with nature's incredible genius. and perry! he was absolutely flabbergasted. he said so himself. "david," he remarked, after we had marched for a long time beside that awful sea. "david, i used to teach geology, and i thought that i believed what i taught; but now i see that i did not believe it--that it is impossible for man to believe such things as these unless he sees them with his own eyes. we take things for granted, perhaps, because we are told them over and over again, and have no way of disproving them--like religions, for example; but we don't believe them, we only think we do. if you ever get back to the outer world you will find that the geologists and paleontologists will be the first to set you down a liar, for they know that no such creatures as they restore ever existed. it is all right to imagine them as existing in an equally imaginary epoch--but now? poof!" at the next halt hooja the sly one managed to find enough slack chain to permit him to worm himself back quite close to dian. we were all standing, and as he edged near the girl she turned her back upon him in such a truly earthly feminine manner that i could scarce repress a smile; but it was a short-lived smile for on the instant the sly one's hand fell upon the girl's bare arm, jerking her roughly toward him. i was not then familiar with the customs or social ethics which prevailed within pellucidar; but even so i did not need the appealing look which the girl shot to me from her magnificent eyes to influence my subsequent act. what the sly one's intention was i paused not to inquire; but instead, before he could lay hold of her with his other hand, i placed a right to the point of his jaw that felled him in his tracks. a roar of approval went up from those of the other prisoners and the sagoths who had witnessed the brief drama; not, as i later learned, because i had championed the girl, but for the neat and, to them, astounding method by which i had bested hooja. and the girl? at first she looked at me with wide, wondering eyes, and then she dropped her head, her face half averted, and a delicate flush suffused her cheek. for a moment she stood thus in silence, and then her head went high, and she turned her back upon me as she had upon hooja. some of the prisoners laughed, and i saw the face of ghak the hairy one go very black as he looked at me searchingly. and what i could see of dian's cheek went suddenly from red to white. immediately after we resumed the march, and though i realized that in some way i had offended dian the beautiful i could not prevail upon her to talk with me that i might learn wherein i had erred--in fact i might quite as well have been addressing a sphinx for all the attention i got. at last my own foolish pride stepped in and prevented my making any further attempts, and thus a companionship that without my realizing it had come to mean a great deal to me was cut off. thereafter i confined my conversation to perry. hooja did not renew his advances toward the girl, nor did he again venture near me. again the weary and apparently interminable marching became a perfect nightmare of horrors to me. the more firmly fixed became the realization that the girl's friendship had meant so much to me, the more i came to miss it; and the more impregnable the barrier of silly pride. but i was very young and would not ask ghak for the explanation which i was sure he could give, and that might have made everything all right again. on the march, or during halts, dian refused consistently to notice me--when her eyes wandered in my direction she looked either over my head or directly through me. at last i became desperate, and determined to swallow my self-esteem, and again beg her to tell me how i had offended, and how i might make reparation. i made up my mind that i should do this at the next halt. we were approaching another range of mountains at the time, and when we reached them, instead of winding across them through some high-flung pass we entered a mighty natural tunnel--a series of labyrinthine grottoes, dark as erebus. the guards had no torches or light of any description. in fact we had seen no artificial light or sign of fire since we had entered pellucidar. in a land of perpetual noon there is no need of light above ground, yet i marveled that they had no means of lighting their way through these dark, subterranean passages. so we crept along at a snail's pace, with much stumbling and falling--the guards keeping up a singsong chant ahead of us, interspersed with certain high notes which i found always indicated rough places and turns. halts were now more frequent, but i did not wish to speak to dian until i could see from the expression of her face how she was receiving my apologies. at last a faint glow ahead forewarned us of the end of the tunnel, for which i for one was devoutly thankful. then at a sudden turn we emerged into the full light of the noonday sun. but with it came a sudden realization of what meant to me a real catastrophe--dian was gone, and with her a half-dozen other prisoners. the guards saw it too, and the ferocity of their rage was terrible to behold. their awesome, bestial faces were contorted in the most diabolical expressions, as they accused each other of responsibility for the loss. finally they fell upon us, beating us with their spear shafts, and hatchets. they had already killed two near the head of the line, and were like to have finished the balance of us when their leader finally put a stop to the brutal slaughter. never in all my life had i witnessed a more horrible exhibition of bestial rage--i thanked god that dian had not been one of those left to endure it. of the twelve prisoners who had been chained ahead of me each alternate one had been freed commencing with dian. hooja was gone. ghak remained. what could it mean? how had it been accomplished? the commander of the guards was investigating. soon he discovered that the rude locks which had held the neckbands in place had been deftly picked. "hooja the sly one," murmured ghak, who was now next to me in line. "he has taken the girl that you would not have," he continued, glancing at me. "that i would not have!" i cried. "what do you mean?" he looked at me closely for a moment. "i have doubted your story that you are from another world," he said at last, "but yet upon no other grounds could your ignorance of the ways of pellucidar be explained. do you really mean that you do not know that you offended the beautiful one, and how?" "i do not know, ghak," i replied. "then shall i tell you. when a man of pellucidar intervenes between another man and the woman the other man would have, the woman belongs to the victor. dian the beautiful belongs to you. you should have claimed her or released her. had you taken her hand, it would have indicated your desire to make her your mate, and had you raised her hand above her head and then dropped it, it would have meant that you did not wish her for a mate and that you released her from all obligation to you. by doing neither you have put upon her the greatest affront that a man may put upon a woman. now she is your slave. no man will take her as mate, or may take her honorably, until he shall have overcome you in combat, and men do not choose slave women as their mates--at least not the men of pellucidar." "i did not know, ghak," i cried. "i did not know. not for all pellucidar would i have harmed dian the beautiful by word, or look, or act of mine. i do not want her as my slave. i do not want her as my--" but here i stopped. the vision of that sweet and innocent face floated before me amidst the soft mists of imagination, and where i had on the second believed that i clung only to the memory of a gentle friendship i had lost, yet now it seemed that it would have been disloyalty to her to have said that i did not want dian the beautiful as my mate. i had not thought of her except as a welcome friend in a strange, cruel world. even now i did not think that i loved her. i believe ghak must have read the truth more in my expression than in my words, for presently he laid his hand upon my shoulder. "man of another world," he said, "i believe you. lips may lie, but when the heart speaks through the eyes it tells only the truth. your heart has spoken to me. i know now that you meant no affront to dian the beautiful. she is not of my tribe; but her mother is my sister. she does not know it--her mother was stolen by dian's father who came with many others of the tribe of amoz to battle with us for our women--the most beautiful women of pellucidar. then was her father king of amoz, and her mother was daughter of the king of sari--to whose power i, his son, have succeeded. dian is the daughter of kings, though her father is no longer king since the sadok tossed him and jubal the ugly one wrested his kingship from him. because of her lineage the wrong you did her was greatly magnified in the eyes of all who saw it. she will never forgive you." i asked ghak if there was not some way in which i could release the girl from the bondage and ignominy i had unwittingly placed upon her. "if ever you find her, yes," he answered. "merely to raise her hand above her head and drop it in the presence of others is sufficient to release her; but how may you ever find her, you who are doomed to a life of slavery yourself in the buried city of phutra?" "is there no escape?" i asked. "hooja the sly one escaped and took the others with him," replied ghak. "but there are no more dark places on the way to phutra, and once there it is not so easy--the mahars are very wise. even if one escaped from phutra there are the thipdars--they would find you, and then--" the hairy one shuddered. "no, you will never escape the mahars." it was a cheerful prospect. i asked perry what he thought about it; but he only shrugged his shoulders and continued a longwinded prayer he had been at for some time. he was wont to say that the only redeeming feature of our captivity was the ample time it gave him for the improvisation of prayers--it was becoming an obsession with him. the sagoths had begun to take notice of his habit of declaiming throughout entire marches. one of them asked him what he was saying--to whom he was talking. the question gave me an idea, so i answered quickly before perry could say anything. "do not interrupt him," i said. "he is a very holy man in the world from which we come. he is speaking to spirits which you cannot see--do not interrupt him or they will spring out of the air upon you and rend you limb from limb--like that," and i jumped toward the great brute with a loud "boo!" that sent him stumbling backward. i took a long chance, i realized, but if we could make any capital out of perry's harmless mania i wanted to make it while the making was prime. it worked splendidly. the sagoths treated us both with marked respect during the balance of the journey, and then passed the word along to their masters, the mahars. two marches after this episode we came to the city of phutra. the entrance to it was marked by two lofty towers of granite, which guarded a flight of steps leading to the buried city. sagoths were on guard here as well as at a hundred or more other towers scattered about over a large plain. v slaves as we descended the broad staircase which led to the main avenue of phutra i caught my first sight of the dominant race of the inner world. involuntarily i shrank back as one of the creatures approached to inspect us. a more hideous thing it would be impossible to imagine. the all-powerful mahars of pellucidar are great reptiles, some six or eight feet in length, with long narrow heads and great round eyes. their beak-like mouths are lined with sharp, white fangs, and the backs of their huge, lizard bodies are serrated into bony ridges from their necks to the end of their long tails. their feet are equipped with three webbed toes, while from the fore feet membranous wings, which are attached to their bodies just in front of the hind legs, protrude at an angle of degrees toward the rear, ending in sharp points several feet above their bodies. i glanced at perry as the thing passed me to inspect him. the old man was gazing at the horrid creature with wide astonished eyes. when it passed on, he turned to me. "a rhamphorhynchus of the middle olitic, david," he said, "but, gad, how enormous! the largest remains we ever have discovered have never indicated a size greater than that attained by an ordinary crow." as we continued on through the main avenue of phutra we saw many thousand of the creatures coming and going upon their daily duties. they paid but little attention to us. phutra is laid out underground with a regularity that indicates remarkable engineering skill. it is hewn from solid limestone strata. the streets are broad and of a uniform height of twenty feet. at intervals tubes pierce the roof of this underground city, and by means of lenses and reflectors transmit the sunlight, softened and diffused, to dispel what would otherwise be cimmerian darkness. in like manner air is introduced. perry and i were taken, with ghak, to a large public building, where one of the sagoths who had formed our guard explained to a maharan official the circumstances surrounding our capture. the method of communication between these two was remarkable in that no spoken words were exchanged. they employed a species of sign language. as i was to learn later, the mahars have no ears, not any spoken language. among themselves they communicate by means of what perry says must be a sixth sense which is cognizant of a fourth dimension. i never did quite grasp him, though he endeavored to explain it to me upon numerous occasions. i suggested telepathy, but he said no, that it was not telepathy since they could only communicate when in each others' presence, nor could they talk with the sagoths or the other inhabitants of pellucidar by the same method they used to converse with one another. "what they do," said perry, "is to project their thoughts into the fourth dimension, when they become appreciable to the sixth sense of their listener. do i make myself quite clear?" "you do not, perry," i replied. he shook his head in despair, and returned to his work. they had set us to carrying a great accumulation of maharan literature from one apartment to another, and there arranging it upon shelves. i suggested to perry that we were in the public library of phutra, but later, as he commenced to discover the key to their written language, he assured me that we were handling the ancient archives of the race. during this period my thoughts were continually upon dian the beautiful. i was, of course, glad that she had escaped the mahars, and the fate that had been suggested by the sagoth who had threatened to purchase her upon our arrival at phutra. i often wondered if the little party of fugitives had been overtaken by the guards who had returned to search for them. sometimes i was not so sure but that i should have been more contented to know that dian was here in phutra, than to think of her at the mercy of hooja the sly one. ghak, perry, and i often talked together of possible escape, but the sarian was so steeped in his lifelong belief that no one could escape from the mahars except by a miracle, that he was not much aid to us--his attitude was of one who waits for the miracle to come to him. at my suggestion perry and i fashioned some swords of scraps of iron which we discovered among some rubbish in the cells where we slept, for we were permitted almost unrestrained freedom of action within the limits of the building to which we had been assigned. so great were the number of slaves who waited upon the inhabitants of phutra that none of us was apt to be overburdened with work, nor were our masters unkind to us. we hid our new weapons beneath the skins which formed our beds, and then perry conceived the idea of making bows and arrows--weapons apparently unknown within pellucidar. next came shields; but these i found it easier to steal from the walls of the outer guardroom of the building. we had completed these arrangements for our protection after leaving phutra when the sagoths who had been sent to recapture the escaped prisoners returned with four of them, of whom hooja was one. dian and two others had eluded them. it so happened that hooja was confined in the same building with us. he told ghak that he had not seen dian or the others after releasing them within the dark grotto. what had become of them he had not the faintest conception--they might be wandering yet, lost within the labyrinthine tunnel, if not dead from starvation. i was now still further apprehensive as to the fate of dian, and at this time, i imagine, came the first realization that my affection for the girl might be prompted by more than friendship. during my waking hours she was constantly the subject of my thoughts, and when i slept her dear face haunted my dreams. more than ever was i determined to escape the mahars. "perry," i confided to the old man, "if i have to search every inch of this diminutive world i am going to find dian the beautiful and right the wrong i unintentionally did her." that was the excuse i made for perry's benefit. "diminutive world!" he scoffed. "you don't know what you are talking about, my boy," and then he showed me a map of pellucidar which he had recently discovered among the manuscript he was arranging. "look," he cried, pointing to it, "this is evidently water, and all this land. do you notice the general configuration of the two areas? where the oceans are upon the outer crust, is land here. these relatively small areas of ocean follow the general lines of the continents of the outer world. "we know that the crust of the globe is miles in thickness; then the inside diameter of pellucidar must be , miles, and the superficial area , , square miles. three-fourths of this is land. think of it! a land area of , , square miles! our own world contains but , , square miles of land, the balance of its surface being covered by water. just as we often compare nations by their relative land areas, so if we compare these two worlds in the same way we have the strange anomaly of a larger world within a smaller one! "where within vast pellucidar would you search for your dian? without stars, or moon, or changing sun how could you find her even though you knew where she might be found?" the proposition was a corker. it quite took my breath away; but i found that it left me all the more determined to attempt it. "if ghak will accompany us we may be able to do it," i suggested. perry and i sought him out and put the question straight to him. "ghak," i said, "we are determined to escape from this bondage. will you accompany us?" "they will set the thipdars upon us," he said, "and then we shall be killed; but--" he hesitated--"i would take the chance if i thought that i might possibly escape and return to my own people." "could you find your way back to your own land?" asked perry. "and could you aid david in his search for dian?" "yes." "but how," persisted perry, "could you travel to strange country without heavenly bodies or a compass to guide you?" ghak didn't know what perry meant by heavenly bodies or a compass, but he assured us that you might blindfold any man of pellucidar and carry him to the farthermost corner of the world, yet he would be able to come directly to his own home again by the shortest route. he seemed surprised to think that we found anything wonderful in it. perry said it must be some sort of homing instinct such as is possessed by certain breeds of earthly pigeons. i didn't know, of course, but it gave me an idea. "then dian could have found her way directly to her own people?" i asked. "surely," replied ghak, "unless some mighty beast of prey killed her." i was for making the attempted escape at once, but both perry and ghak counseled waiting for some propitious accident which would insure us some small degree of success. i didn't see what accident could befall a whole community in a land of perpetual daylight where the inhabitants had no fixed habits of sleep. why, i am sure that some of the mahars never sleep, while others may, at long intervals, crawl into the dark recesses beneath their dwellings and curl up in protracted slumber. perry says that if a mahar stays awake for three years he will make up all his lost sleep in a long year's snooze. that may be all true, but i never saw but three of them asleep, and it was the sight of these three that gave me a suggestion for our means of escape. i had been searching about far below the levels that we slaves were supposed to frequent--possibly fifty feet beneath the main floor of the building--among a network of corridors and apartments, when i came suddenly upon three mahars curled up upon a bed of skins. at first i thought they were dead, but later their regular breathing convinced me of my error. like a flash the thought came to me of the marvelous opportunity these sleeping reptiles offered as a means of eluding the watchfulness of our captors and the sagoth guards. hastening back to perry where he pored over a musty pile of, to me, meaningless hieroglyphics, i explained my plan to him. to my surprise he was horrified. "it would be murder, david," he cried. "murder to kill a reptilian monster?" i asked in astonishment. "here they are not monsters, david," he replied. "here they are the dominant race--we are the 'monsters'--the lower orders. in pellucidar evolution has progressed along different lines than upon the outer earth. these terrible convulsions of nature time and time again wiped out the existing species--but for this fact some monster of the saurozoic epoch might rule today upon our own world. we see here what might well have occurred in our own history had conditions been what they have been here. "life within pellucidar is far younger than upon the outer crust. here man has but reached a stage analogous to the stone age of our own world's history, but for countless millions of years these reptiles have been progressing. possibly it is the sixth sense which i am sure they possess that has given them an advantage over the other and more frightfully armed of their fellows; but this we may never know. they look upon us as we look upon the beasts of our fields, and i learn from their written records that other races of mahars feed upon men--they keep them in great droves, as we keep cattle. they breed them most carefully, and when they are quite fat, they kill and eat them." i shuddered. "what is there horrible about it, david?" the old man asked. "they understand us no better than we understand the lower animals of our own world. why, i have come across here very learned discussions of the question as to whether gilaks, that is men, have any means of communication. one writer claims that we do not even reason--that our every act is mechanical, or instinctive. the dominant race of pellucidar, david, have not yet learned that men converse among themselves, or reason. because we do not converse as they do it is beyond them to imagine that we converse at all. it is thus that we reason in relation to the brutes of our own world. they know that the sagoths have a spoken language, but they cannot comprehend it, or how it manifests itself, since they have no auditory apparatus. they believe that the motions of the lips alone convey the meaning. that the sagoths can communicate with us is incomprehensible to them. "yes, david," he concluded, "it would entail murder to carry out your plan." "very well then, perry." i replied. "i shall become a murderer." he got me to go over the plan again most carefully, and for some reason which was not at the time clear to me insisted upon a very careful description of the apartments and corridors i had just explored. "i wonder, david," he said at length, "as you are determined to carry out your wild scheme, if we could not accomplish something of very real and lasting benefit for the human race of pellucidar at the same time. listen, i have learned much of a most surprising nature from these archives of the mahars. that you may appreciate my plan i shall briefly outline the history of the race. "once the males were all-powerful, but ages ago the females, little by little, assumed the mastery. for other ages no noticeable change took place in the race of mahars. it continued to progress under the intelligent and beneficent rule of the ladies. science took vast strides. this was especially true of the sciences which we know as biology and eugenics. finally a certain female scientist announced the fact that she had discovered a method whereby eggs might be fertilized by chemical means after they were laid--all true reptiles, you know, are hatched from eggs. "what happened? immediately the necessity for males ceased to exist--the race was no longer dependent upon them. more ages elapsed until at the present time we find a race consisting exclusively of females. but here is the point. the secret of this chemical formula is kept by a single race of mahars. it is in the city of phutra, and unless i am greatly in error i judge from your description of the vaults through which you passed today that it lies hidden in the cellar of this building. "for two reasons they hide it away and guard it jealously. first, because upon it depends the very life of the race of mahars, and second, owing to the fact that when it was public property as at first so many were experimenting with it that the danger of over-population became very grave. "david, if we can escape, and at the same time take with us this great secret what will we not have accomplished for the human race within pellucidar!" the very thought of it fairly overpowered me. why, we two would be the means of placing the men of the inner world in their rightful place among created things. only the sagoths would then stand between them and absolute supremacy, and i was not quite sure but that the sagoths owed all their power to the greater intelligence of the mahars--i could not believe that these gorilla-like beasts were the mental superiors of the human race of pellucidar. "why, perry," i exclaimed, "you and i may reclaim a whole world! together we can lead the races of men out of the darkness of ignorance into the light of advancement and civilization. at one step we may carry them from the age of stone to the twentieth century. it's marvelous--absolutely marvelous just to think about it." "david," said the old man, "i believe that god sent us here for just that purpose--it shall be my life work to teach them his word--to lead them into the light of his mercy while we are training their hearts and hands in the ways of culture and civilization." "you are right, perry," i said, "and while you are teaching them to pray i'll be teaching them to fight, and between us we'll make a race of men that will be an honor to us both." ghak had entered the apartment some time before we concluded our conversation, and now he wanted to know what we were so excited about. perry thought we had best not tell him too much, and so i only explained that i had a plan for escape. when i had outlined it to him, he seemed about as horror-struck as perry had been; but for a different reason. the hairy one only considered the horrible fate that would be ours were we discovered; but at last i prevailed upon him to accept my plan as the only feasible one, and when i had assured him that i would take all the responsibility for it were we captured, he accorded a reluctant assent. vi the beginning of horror within pellucidar one time is as good as another. there were no nights to mask our attempted escape. all must be done in broad daylight--all but the work i had to do in the apartment beneath the building. so we determined to put our plan to an immediate test lest the mahars who made it possible should awake before i reached them; but we were doomed to disappointment, for no sooner had we reached the main floor of the building on our way to the pits beneath, than we encountered hurrying bands of slaves being hastened under strong sagoth guard out of the edifice to the avenue beyond. other sagoths were darting hither and thither in search of other slaves, and the moment that we appeared we were pounced upon and hustled into the line of marching humans. what the purpose or nature of the general exodus we did not know, but presently through the line of captives ran the rumor that two escaped slaves had been recaptured--a man and a woman--and that we were marching to witness their punishment, for the man had killed a sagoth of the detachment that had pursued and overtaken them. at the intelligence my heart sprang to my throat, for i was sure that the two were of those who escaped in the dark grotto with hooja the sly one, and that dian must be the woman. ghak thought so too, as did perry. "is there naught that we may do to save her?" i asked ghak. "naught," he replied. along the crowded avenue we marched, the guards showing unusual cruelty toward us, as though we, too, had been implicated in the murder of their fellow. the occasion was to serve as an object-lesson to all other slaves of the danger and futility of attempted escape, and the fatal consequences of taking the life of a superior being, and so i imagine that sagoths felt amply justified in making the entire proceeding as uncomfortable and painful to us as possible. they jabbed us with their spears and struck at us with the hatchets at the least provocation, and at no provocation at all. it was a most uncomfortable half-hour that we spent before we were finally herded through a low entrance into a huge building the center of which was given up to a good-sized arena. benches surrounded this open space upon three sides, and along the fourth were heaped huge bowlders which rose in receding tiers toward the roof. at first i couldn't make out the purpose of this mighty pile of rock, unless it were intended as a rough and picturesque background for the scenes which were enacted in the arena before it, but presently, after the wooden benches had been pretty well filled by slaves and sagoths, i discovered the purpose of the bowlders, for then the mahars began to file into the enclosure. they marched directly across the arena toward the rocks upon the opposite side, where, spreading their bat-like wings, they rose above the high wall of the pit, settling down upon the bowlders above. these were the reserved seats, the boxes of the elect. reptiles that they are, the rough surface of a great stone is to them as plush as upholstery to us. here they lolled, blinking their hideous eyes, and doubtless conversing with one another in their sixth-sense-fourth-dimension language. for the first time i beheld their queen. she differed from the others in no feature that was appreciable to my earthly eyes, in fact all mahars look alike to me: but when she crossed the arena after the balance of her female subjects had found their bowlders, she was preceded by a score of huge sagoths, the largest i ever had seen, and on either side of her waddled a huge thipdar, while behind came another score of sagoth guardsmen. at the barrier the sagoths clambered up the steep side with truly apelike agility, while behind them the haughty queen rose upon her wings with her two frightful dragons close beside her, and settled down upon the largest bowlder of them all in the exact center of that side of the amphitheater which is reserved for the dominant race. here she squatted, a most repulsive and uninteresting queen; though doubtless quite as well assured of her beauty and divine right to rule as the proudest monarch of the outer world. and then the music started--music without sound! the mahars cannot hear, so the drums and fifes and horns of earthly bands are unknown among them. the "band" consists of a score or more mahars. it filed out in the center of the arena where the creatures upon the rocks might see it, and there it performed for fifteen or twenty minutes. their technic consisted in waving their tails and moving their heads in a regular succession of measured movements resulting in a cadence which evidently pleased the eye of the mahar as the cadence of our own instrumental music pleases our ears. sometimes the band took measured steps in unison to one side or the other, or backward and again forward--it all seemed very silly and meaningless to me, but at the end of the first piece the mahars upon the rocks showed the first indications of enthusiasm that i had seen displayed by the dominant race of pellucidar. they beat their great wings up and down, and smote their rocky perches with their mighty tails until the ground shook. then the band started another piece, and all was again as silent as the grave. that was one great beauty about mahar music--if you didn't happen to like a piece that was being played all you had to do was shut your eyes. when the band had exhausted its repertory it took wing and settled upon the rocks above and behind the queen. then the business of the day was on. a man and woman were pushed into the arena by a couple of sagoth guardsmen. i leaned forward in my seat to scrutinize the female--hoping against hope that she might prove to be another than dian the beautiful. her back was toward me for a while, and the sight of the great mass of raven hair piled high upon her head filled me with alarm. presently a door in one side of the arena wall was opened to admit a huge, shaggy, bull-like creature. "a bos," whispered perry, excitedly. "his kind roamed the outer crust with the cave bear and the mammoth ages and ages ago. we have been carried back a million years, david, to the childhood of a planet--is it not wondrous?" but i saw only the raven hair of a half-naked girl, and my heart stood still in dumb misery at the sight of her, nor had i any eyes for the wonders of natural history. but for perry and ghak i should have leaped to the floor of the arena and shared whatever fate lay in store for this priceless treasure of the stone age. with the advent of the bos--they call the thing a thag within pellucidar--two spears were tossed into the arena at the feet of the prisoners. it seemed to me that a bean shooter would have been as effective against the mighty monster as these pitiful weapons. as the animal approached the two, bellowing and pawing the ground with the strength of many earthly bulls, another door directly beneath us was opened, and from it issued the most terrific roar that ever had fallen upon my outraged ears. i could not at first see the beast from which emanated this fearsome challenge, but the sound had the effect of bringing the two victims around with a sudden start, and then i saw the girl's face--she was not dian! i could have wept for relief. and now, as the two stood frozen in terror, i saw the author of that fearsome sound creeping stealthily into view. it was a huge tiger--such as hunted the great bos through the jungles primeval when the world was young. in contour and markings it was not unlike the noblest of the bengals of our own world, but as its dimensions were exaggerated to colossal proportions so too were its colorings exaggerated. its vivid yellows fairly screamed aloud; its whites were as eider down; its blacks glossy as the finest anthracite coal, and its coat long and shaggy as a mountain goat. that it is a beautiful animal there is no gainsaying, but if its size and colors are magnified here within pellucidar, so is the ferocity of its disposition. it is not the occasional member of its species that is a man hunter--all are man hunters; but they do not confine their foraging to man alone, for there is no flesh or fish within pellucidar that they will not eat with relish in the constant efforts which they make to furnish their huge carcasses with sufficient sustenance to maintain their mighty thews. upon one side of the doomed pair the thag bellowed and advanced, and upon the other tarag, the frightful, crept toward them with gaping mouth and dripping fangs. the man seized the spears, handing one of them to the woman. at the sound of the roaring of the tiger the bull's bellowing became a veritable frenzy of rageful noise. never in my life had i heard such an infernal din as the two brutes made, and to think it was all lost upon the hideous reptiles for whom the show was staged! the thag was charging now from one side, and the tarag from the other. the two puny things standing between them seemed already lost, but at the very moment that the beasts were upon them the man grasped his companion by the arm and together they leaped to one side, while the frenzied creatures came together like locomotives in collision. there ensued a battle royal which for sustained and frightful ferocity transcends the power of imagination or description. time and again the colossal bull tossed the enormous tiger high into the air, but each time that the huge cat touched the ground he returned to the encounter with apparently undiminished strength, and seemingly increased ire. for a while the man and woman busied themselves only with keeping out of the way of the two creatures, but finally i saw them separate and each creep stealthily toward one of the combatants. the tiger was now upon the bull's broad back, clinging to the huge neck with powerful fangs while its long, strong talons ripped the heavy hide into shreds and ribbons. for a moment the bull stood bellowing and quivering with pain and rage, its cloven hoofs widespread, its tail lashing viciously from side to side, and then, in a mad orgy of bucking it went careening about the arena in frenzied attempt to unseat its rending rider. it was with difficulty that the girl avoided the first mad rush of the wounded animal. all its efforts to rid itself of the tiger seemed futile, until in desperation it threw itself upon the ground, rolling over and over. a little of this so disconcerted the tiger, knocking its breath from it i imagine, that it lost its hold and then, quick as a cat, the great thag was up again and had buried those mighty horns deep in the tarag's abdomen, pinning him to the floor of the arena. the great cat clawed at the shaggy head until eyes and ears were gone, and naught but a few strips of ragged, bloody flesh remained upon the skull. yet through all the agony of that fearful punishment the thag still stood motionless pinning down his adversary, and then the man leaped in, seeing that the blind bull would be the least formidable enemy, and ran his spear through the tarag's heart. as the animal's fierce clawing ceased, the bull raised his gory, sightless head, and with a horrid roar ran headlong across the arena. with great leaps and bounds he came, straight toward the arena wall directly beneath where we sat, and then accident carried him, in one of his mighty springs, completely over the barrier into the midst of the slaves and sagoths just in front of us. swinging his bloody horns from side to side the beast cut a wide swath before him straight upward toward our seats. before him slaves and gorilla-men fought in mad stampede to escape the menace of the creature's death agonies, for such only could that frightful charge have been. forgetful of us, our guards joined in the general rush for the exits, many of which pierced the wall of the amphitheater behind us. perry, ghak, and i became separated in the chaos which reigned for a few moments after the beast cleared the wall of the arena, each intent upon saving his own hide. i ran to the right, passing several exits choked with the fear mad mob that were battling to escape. one would have thought that an entire herd of thags was loose behind them, rather than a single blinded, dying beast; but such is the effect of panic upon a crowd. vii freedom once out of the direct path of the animal, fear of it left me, but another emotion as quickly gripped me--hope of escape that the demoralized condition of the guards made possible for the instant. i thought of perry, and but for the hope that i might better encompass his release if myself free i should have put the thought of freedom from me at once. as it was i hastened on toward the right searching for an exit toward which no sagoths were fleeing, and at last i found it--a low, narrow aperture leading into a dark corridor. without thought of the possible consequence, i darted into the shadows of the tunnel, feeling my way along through the gloom for some distance. the noises of the amphitheater had grown fainter and fainter until now all was as silent as the tomb about me. faint light filtered from above through occasional ventilating and lighting tubes, but it was scarce sufficient to enable my human eyes to cope with the darkness, and so i was forced to move with extreme care, feeling my way along step by step with a hand upon the wall beside me. presently the light increased and a moment later, to my delight, i came upon a flight of steps leading upward, at the top of which the brilliant light of the noonday sun shone through an opening in the ground. cautiously i crept up the stairway to the tunnel's end, and peering out saw the broad plain of phutra before me. the numerous lofty, granite towers which mark the several entrances to the subterranean city were all in front of me--behind, the plain stretched level and unbroken to the nearby foothills. i had come to the surface, then, beyond the city, and my chances for escape seemed much enhanced. my first impulse was to await darkness before attempting to cross the plain, so deeply implanted are habits of thought; but of a sudden i recollected the perpetual noonday brilliance which envelops pellucidar, and with a smile i stepped forth into the daylight. rank grass, waist high, grows upon the plain of phutra--the gorgeous flowering grass of the inner world, each particular blade of which is tipped with a tiny, five-pointed blossom--brilliant little stars of varying colors that twinkle in the green foliage to add still another charm to the weird, yet lovely, landscape. but then the only aspect which attracted me was the distant hills in which i hoped to find sanctuary, and so i hastened on, trampling the myriad beauties beneath my hurrying feet. perry says that the force of gravity is less upon the surface of the inner world than upon that of the outer. he explained it all to me once, but i was never particularly brilliant in such matters and so most of it has escaped me. as i recall it the difference is due in some part to the counter-attraction of that portion of the earth's crust directly opposite the spot upon the face of pellucidar at which one's calculations are being made. be that as it may, it always seemed to me that i moved with greater speed and agility within pellucidar than upon the outer surface--there was a certain airy lightness of step that was most pleasing, and a feeling of bodily detachment which i can only compare with that occasionally experienced in dreams. and as i crossed phutra's flower-bespangled plain that time i seemed almost to fly, though how much of the sensation was due to perry's suggestion and how much to actuality i am sure i do not know. the more i thought of perry the less pleasure i took in my new-found freedom. there could be no liberty for me within pellucidar unless the old man shared it with me, and only the hope that i might find some way to encompass his release kept me from turning back to phutra. just how i was to help perry i could scarce imagine, but i hoped that some fortuitous circumstance might solve the problem for me. it was quite evident however that little less than a miracle could aid me, for what could i accomplish in this strange world, naked and unarmed? it was even doubtful that i could retrace my steps to phutra should i once pass beyond view of the plain, and even were that possible, what aid could i bring to perry no matter how far i wandered? the case looked more and more hopeless the longer i viewed it, yet with a stubborn persistency i forged ahead toward the foothills. behind me no sign of pursuit developed, before me i saw no living thing. it was as though i moved through a dead and forgotten world. i have no idea, of course, how long it took me to reach the limit of the plain, but at last i entered the foothills, following a pretty little canyon upward toward the mountains. beside me frolicked a laughing brooklet, hurrying upon its noisy way down to the silent sea. in its quieter pools i discovered many small fish, of four-or five-pound weight i should imagine. in appearance, except as to size and color, they were not unlike the whale of our own seas. as i watched them playing about i discovered, not only that they suckled their young, but that at intervals they rose to the surface to breathe as well as to feed upon certain grasses and a strange, scarlet lichen which grew upon the rocks just above the water line. it was this last habit that gave me the opportunity i craved to capture one of these herbivorous cetaceans--that is what perry calls them--and make as good a meal as one can on raw, warm-blooded fish; but i had become rather used, by this time, to the eating of food in its natural state, though i still balked on the eyes and entrails, much to the amusement of ghak, to whom i always passed these delicacies. crouching beside the brook, i waited until one of the diminutive purple whales rose to nibble at the long grasses which overhung the water, and then, like the beast of prey that man really is, i sprang upon my victim, appeasing my hunger while he yet wriggled to escape. then i drank from the clear pool, and after washing my hands and face continued my flight. above the source of the brook i encountered a rugged climb to the summit of a long ridge. beyond was a steep declivity to the shore of a placid, inland sea, upon the quiet surface of which lay several beautiful islands. the view was charming in the extreme, and as no man or beast was to be seen that might threaten my new-found liberty, i slid over the edge of the bluff, and half sliding, half falling, dropped into the delightful valley, the very aspect of which seemed to offer a haven of peace and security. the gently sloping beach along which i walked was thickly strewn with strangely shaped, colored shells; some empty, others still housing as varied a multitude of mollusks as ever might have drawn out their sluggish lives along the silent shores of the antediluvian seas of the outer crust. as i walked i could not but compare myself with the first man of that other world, so complete the solitude which surrounded me, so primal and untouched the virgin wonders and beauties of adolescent nature. i felt myself a second adam wending my lonely way through the childhood of a world, searching for my eve, and at the thought there rose before my mind's eye the exquisite outlines of a perfect face surmounted by a loose pile of wondrous, raven hair. as i walked, my eyes were bent upon the beach so that it was not until i had come quite upon it that i discovered that which shattered all my beautiful dream of solitude and safety and peace and primal overlordship. the thing was a hollowed log drawn upon the sands, and in the bottom of it lay a crude paddle. the rude shock of awakening to what doubtless might prove some new form of danger was still upon me when i heard a rattling of loose stones from the direction of the bluff, and turning my eyes in that direction i beheld the author of the disturbance, a great copper-colored man, running rapidly toward me. there was that in the haste with which he came which seemed quite sufficiently menacing, so that i did not need the added evidence of brandishing spear and scowling face to warn me that i was in no safe position, but whither to flee was indeed a momentous question. the speed of the fellow seemed to preclude the possibility of escaping him upon the open beach. there was but a single alternative--the rude skiff--and with a celerity which equaled his, i pushed the thing into the sea and as it floated gave a final shove and clambered in over the end. a cry of rage rose from the owner of the primitive craft, and an instant later his heavy, stone-tipped spear grazed my shoulder and buried itself in the bow of the boat beyond. then i grasped the paddle, and with feverish haste urged the awkward, wobbly thing out upon the surface of the sea. a glance over my shoulder showed me that the copper-colored one had plunged in after me and was swimming rapidly in pursuit. his mighty strokes bade fair to close up the distance between us in short order, for at best i could make but slow progress with my unfamiliar craft, which nosed stubbornly in every direction but that which i desired to follow, so that fully half my energy was expended in turning its blunt prow back into the course. i had covered some hundred yards from shore when it became evident that my pursuer must grasp the stern of the skiff within the next half-dozen strokes. in a frenzy of despair, i bent to the grandfather of all paddles in a hopeless effort to escape, and still the copper giant behind me gained and gained. his hand was reaching upward for the stern when i saw a sleek, sinuous body shoot from the depths below. the man saw it too, and the look of terror that overspread his face assured me that i need have no further concern as to him, for the fear of certain death was in his look. and then about him coiled the great, slimy folds of a hideous monster of that prehistoric deep--a mighty serpent of the sea, with fanged jaws, and darting forked tongue, with bulging eyes, and bony protuberances upon head and snout that formed short, stout horns. as i looked at that hopeless struggle my eyes met those of the doomed man, and i could have sworn that in his i saw an expression of hopeless appeal. but whether i did or not there swept through me a sudden compassion for the fellow. he was indeed a brother-man, and that he might have killed me with pleasure had he caught me was forgotten in the extremity of his danger. unconsciously i had ceased paddling as the serpent rose to engage my pursuer, so now the skiff still drifted close beside the two. the monster seemed to be but playing with his victim before he closed his awful jaws upon him and dragged him down to his dark den beneath the surface to devour him. the huge, snakelike body coiled and uncoiled about its prey. the hideous, gaping jaws snapped in the victim's face. the forked tongue, lightning-like, ran in and out upon the copper skin. nobly the giant battled for his life, beating with his stone hatchet against the bony armor that covered that frightful carcass; but for all the damage he inflicted he might as well have struck with his open palm. at last i could endure no longer to sit supinely by while a fellowman was dragged down to a horrible death by that repulsive reptile. embedded in the prow of the skiff lay the spear that had been cast after me by him whom i suddenly desired to save. with a wrench i tore it loose, and standing upright in the wobbly log drove it with all the strength of my two arms straight into the gaping jaws of the hydrophidian. with a loud hiss the creature abandoned its prey to turn upon me, but the spear, imbedded in its throat, prevented it from seizing me though it came near to overturning the skiff in its mad efforts to reach me. viii the mahar temple the aborigine, apparently uninjured, climbed quickly into the skiff, and seizing the spear with me helped to hold off the infuriated creature. blood from the wounded reptile was now crimsoning the waters about us and soon from the weakening struggles it became evident that i had inflicted a death wound upon it. presently its efforts to reach us ceased entirely, and with a few convulsive movements it turned upon its back quite dead. and then there came to me a sudden realization of the predicament in which i had placed myself. i was entirely within the power of the savage man whose skiff i had stolen. still clinging to the spear i looked into his face to find him scrutinizing me intently, and there we stood for some several minutes, each clinging tenaciously to the weapon the while we gazed in stupid wonderment at each other. what was in his mind i do not know, but in my own was merely the question as to how soon the fellow would recommence hostilities. presently he spoke to me, but in a tongue which i was unable to translate. i shook my head in an effort to indicate my ignorance of his language, at the same time addressing him in the bastard tongue that the sagoths use to converse with the human slaves of the mahars. to my delight he understood and answered me in the same jargon. "what do you want of my spear?" he asked. "only to keep you from running it through me," i replied. "i would not do that," he said, "for you have just saved my life," and with that he released his hold upon it and squatted down in the bottom of the skiff. "who are you," he continued, "and from what country do you come?" i too sat down, laying the spear between us, and tried to explain how i came to pellucidar, and wherefrom, but it was as impossible for him to grasp or believe the strange tale i told him as i fear it is for you upon the outer crust to believe in the existence of the inner world. to him it seemed quite ridiculous to imagine that there was another world far beneath his feet peopled by beings similar to himself, and he laughed uproariously the more he thought upon it. but it was ever thus. that which has never come within the scope of our really pitifully meager world-experience cannot be--our finite minds cannot grasp that which may not exist in accordance with the conditions which obtain about us upon the outside of the insignificant grain of dust which wends its tiny way among the bowlders of the universe--the speck of moist dirt we so proudly call the world. so i gave it up and asked him about himself. he said he was a mezop, and that his name was ja. "who are the mezops?" i asked. "where do they live?" he looked at me in surprise. "i might indeed believe that you were from another world," he said, "for who of pellucidar could be so ignorant! the mezops live upon the islands of the seas. in so far as i ever have heard no mezop lives elsewhere, and no others than mezops dwell upon islands, but of course it may be different in other far-distant lands. i do not know. at any rate in this sea and those near by it is true that only people of my race inhabit the islands. "we are fishermen, though we be great hunters as well, often going to the mainland in search of the game that is scarce upon all but the larger islands. and we are warriors also," he added proudly. "even the sagoths of the mahars fear us. once, when pellucidar was young, the sagoths were wont to capture us for slaves as they do the other men of pellucidar, it is handed down from father to son among us that this is so; but we fought so desperately and slew so many sagoths, and those of us that were captured killed so many mahars in their own cities that at last they learned that it were better to leave us alone, and later came the time that the mahars became too indolent even to catch their own fish, except for amusement, and then they needed us to supply their wants, and so a truce was made between the races. now they give us certain things which we are unable to produce in return for the fish that we catch, and the mezops and the mahars live in peace. "the great ones even come to our islands. it is there, far from the prying eyes of their own sagoths, that they practice their religious rites in the temples they have builded there with our assistance. if you live among us you will doubtless see the manner of their worship, which is strange indeed, and most unpleasant for the poor slaves they bring to take part in it." as ja talked i had an excellent opportunity to inspect him more closely. he was a huge fellow, standing i should say six feet six or seven inches, well developed and of a coppery red not unlike that of our own north american indian, nor were his features dissimilar to theirs. he had the aquiline nose found among many of the higher tribes, the prominent cheek bones, and black hair and eyes, but his mouth and lips were better molded. all in all, ja was an impressive and handsome creature, and he talked well too, even in the miserable makeshift language we were compelled to use. during our conversation ja had taken the paddle and was propelling the skiff with vigorous strokes toward a large island that lay some half-mile from the mainland. the skill with which he handled his crude and awkward craft elicited my deepest admiration, since it had been so short a time before that i had made such pitiful work of it. as we touched the pretty, level beach ja leaped out and i followed him. together we dragged the skiff far up into the bushes that grew beyond the sand. "we must hide our canoes," explained ja, "for the mezops of luana are always at war with us and would steal them if they found them," he nodded toward an island farther out at sea, and at so great a distance that it seemed but a blur hanging in the distant sky. the upward curve of the surface of pellucidar was constantly revealing the impossible to the surprised eyes of the outer-earthly. to see land and water curving upward in the distance until it seemed to stand on edge where it melted into the distant sky, and to feel that seas and mountains hung suspended directly above one's head required such a complete reversal of the perceptive and reasoning faculties as almost to stupefy one. no sooner had we hidden the canoe than ja plunged into the jungle, presently emerging into a narrow but well-defined trail which wound hither and thither much after the manner of the highways of all primitive folk, but there was one peculiarity about this mezop trail which i was later to find distinguished them from all other trails that i ever have seen within or without the earth. it would run on, plain and clear and well defined to end suddenly in the midst of a tangle of matted jungle, then ja would turn directly back in his tracks for a little distance, spring into a tree, climb through it to the other side, drop onto a fallen log, leap over a low bush and alight once more upon a distinct trail which he would follow back for a short distance only to turn directly about and retrace his steps until after a mile or less this new pathway ended as suddenly and mysteriously as the former section. then he would pass again across some media which would reveal no spoor, to take up the broken thread of the trail beyond. as the purpose of this remarkable avenue dawned upon me i could not but admire the native shrewdness of the ancient progenitor of the mezops who hit upon this novel plan to throw his enemies from his track and delay or thwart them in their attempts to follow him to his deep-buried cities. to you of the outer earth it might seem a slow and tortuous method of traveling through the jungle, but were you of pellucidar you would realize that time is no factor where time does not exist. so labyrinthine are the windings of these trails, so varied the connecting links and the distances which one must retrace one's steps from the paths' ends to find them that a mezop often reaches man's estate before he is familiar even with those which lead from his own city to the sea. in fact three-fourths of the education of the young male mezop consists in familiarizing himself with these jungle avenues, and the status of an adult is largely determined by the number of trails which he can follow upon his own island. the females never learn them, since from birth to death they never leave the clearing in which the village of their nativity is situated except they be taken to mate by a male from another village, or captured in war by the enemies of their tribe. after proceeding through the jungle for what must have been upward of five miles we emerged suddenly into a large clearing in the exact center of which stood as strange an appearing village as one might well imagine. large trees had been chopped down fifteen or twenty feet above the ground, and upon the tops of them spherical habitations of woven twigs, mud covered, had been built. each ball-like house was surmounted by some manner of carven image, which ja told me indicated the identity of the owner. horizontal slits, six inches high and two or three feet wide, served to admit light and ventilation. the entrances to the house were through small apertures in the bases of the trees and thence upward by rude ladders through the hollow trunks to the rooms above. the houses varied in size from two to several rooms. the largest that i entered was divided into two floors and eight apartments. all about the village, between it and the jungle, lay beautifully cultivated fields in which the mezops raised such cereals, fruits, and vegetables as they required. women and children were working in these gardens as we crossed toward the village. at sight of ja they saluted deferentially, but to me they paid not the slightest attention. among them and about the outer verge of the cultivated area were many warriors. these too saluted ja, by touching the points of their spears to the ground directly before them. ja conducted me to a large house in the center of the village--the house with eight rooms--and taking me up into it gave me food and drink. there i met his mate, a comely girl with a nursing baby in her arms. ja told her of how i had saved his life, and she was thereafter most kind and hospitable toward me, even permitting me to hold and amuse the tiny bundle of humanity whom ja told me would one day rule the tribe, for ja, it seemed, was the chief of the community. we had eaten and rested, and i had slept, much to ja's amusement, for it seemed that he seldom if ever did so, and then the red man proposed that i accompany him to the temple of the mahars which lay not far from his village. "we are not supposed to visit it," he said; "but the great ones cannot hear and if we keep well out of sight they need never know that we have been there. for my part i hate them and always have, but the other chieftains of the island think it best that we continue to maintain the amicable relations which exist between the two races; otherwise i should like nothing better than to lead my warriors amongst the hideous creatures and exterminate them--pellucidar would be a better place to live were there none of them." i wholly concurred in ja's belief, but it seemed that it might be a difficult matter to exterminate the dominant race of pellucidar. thus conversing we followed the intricate trail toward the temple, which we came upon in a small clearing surrounded by enormous trees similar to those which must have flourished upon the outer crust during the carboniferous age. here was a mighty temple of hewn rock built in the shape of a rough oval with rounded roof in which were several large openings. no doors or windows were visible in the sides of the structure, nor was there need of any, except one entrance for the slaves, since, as ja explained, the mahars flew to and from their place of ceremonial, entering and leaving the building by means of the apertures in the roof. "but," added ja, "there is an entrance near the base of which even the mahars know nothing. come," and he led me across the clearing and about the end to a pile of loose rock which lay against the foot of the wall. here he removed a couple of large bowlders, revealing a small opening which led straight within the building, or so it seemed, though as i entered after ja i discovered myself in a narrow place of extreme darkness. "we are within the outer wall," said ja. "it is hollow. follow me closely." the red man groped ahead a few paces and then began to ascend a primitive ladder similar to that which leads from the ground to the upper stories of his house. we ascended for some forty feet when the interior of the space between the walls commenced to grow lighter and presently we came opposite an opening in the inner wall which gave us an unobstructed view of the entire interior of the temple. the lower floor was an enormous tank of clear water in which numerous hideous mahars swam lazily up and down. artificial islands of granite rock dotted this artificial sea, and upon several of them i saw men and women like myself. "what are the human beings doing here?" i asked. "wait and you shall see," replied ja. "they are to take a leading part in the ceremonies which will follow the advent of the queen. you may be thankful that you are not upon the same side of the wall as they." scarcely had he spoken than we heard a great fluttering of wings above and a moment later a long procession of the frightful reptiles of pellucidar winged slowly and majestically through the large central opening in the roof and circled in stately manner about the temple. there were several mahars first, and then at least twenty awe-inspiring pterodactyls--thipdars, they are called within pellucidar. behind these came the queen, flanked by other thipdars as she had been when she entered the amphitheater at phutra. three times they wheeled about the interior of the oval chamber, to settle finally upon the damp, cold bowlders that fringe the outer edge of the pool. in the center of one side the largest rock was reserved for the queen, and here she took her place surrounded by her terrible guard. all lay quiet for several minutes after settling to their places. one might have imagined them in silent prayer. the poor slaves upon the diminutive islands watched the horrid creatures with wide eyes. the men, for the most part, stood erect and stately with folded arms, awaiting their doom; but the women and children clung to one another, hiding behind the males. they are a noble-looking race, these cave men of pellucidar, and if our progenitors were as they, the human race of the outer crust has deteriorated rather than improved with the march of the ages. all they lack is opportunity. we have opportunity, and little else. now the queen moved. she raised her ugly head, looking about; then very slowly she crawled to the edge of her throne and slid noiselessly into the water. up and down the long tank she swam, turning at the ends as you have seen captive seals turn in their tiny tanks, turning upon their backs and diving below the surface. nearer and nearer to the island she came until at last she remained at rest before the largest, which was directly opposite her throne. raising her hideous head from the water she fixed her great, round eyes upon the slaves. they were fat and sleek, for they had been brought from a distant mahar city where human beings are kept in droves, and bred and fattened, as we breed and fatten beef cattle. the queen fixed her gaze upon a plump young maiden. her victim tried to turn away, hiding her face in her hands and kneeling behind a woman; but the reptile, with unblinking eyes, stared on with such fixity that i could have sworn her vision penetrated the woman, and the girl's arms to reach at last the very center of her brain. slowly the reptile's head commenced to move to and fro, but the eyes never ceased to bore toward the frightened girl, and then the victim responded. she turned wide, fear-haunted eyes toward the mahar queen, slowly she rose to her feet, and then as though dragged by some unseen power she moved as one in a trance straight toward the reptile, her glassy eyes fixed upon those of her captor. to the water's edge she came, nor did she even pause, but stepped into the shallows beside the little island. on she moved toward the mahar, who now slowly retreated as though leading her victim on. the water rose to the girl's knees, and still she advanced, chained by that clammy eye. now the water was at her waist; now her armpits. her fellows upon the island looked on in horror, helpless to avert her doom in which they saw a forecast of their own. the mahar sank now till only the long upper bill and eyes were exposed above the surface of the water, and the girl had advanced until the end of that repulsive beak was but an inch or two from her face, her horror-filled eyes riveted upon those of the reptile. now the water passed above the girl's mouth and nose--her eyes and forehead all that showed--yet still she walked on after the retreating mahar. the queen's head slowly disappeared beneath the surface and after it went the eyes of her victim--only a slow ripple widened toward the shores to mark where the two vanished. for a time all was silence within the temple. the slaves were motionless in terror. the mahars watched the surface of the water for the reappearance of their queen, and presently at one end of the tank her head rose slowly into view. she was backing toward the surface, her eyes fixed before her as they had been when she dragged the helpless girl to her doom. and then to my utter amazement i saw the forehead and eyes of the maiden come slowly out of the depths, following the gaze of the reptile just as when she had disappeared beneath the surface. on and on came the girl until she stood in water that reached barely to her knees, and though she had been beneath the surface sufficient time to have drowned her thrice over there was no indication, other than her dripping hair and glistening body, that she had been submerged at all. again and again the queen led the girl into the depths and out again, until the uncanny weirdness of the thing got on my nerves so that i could have leaped into the tank to the child's rescue had i not taken a firm hold of myself. once they were below much longer than usual, and when they came to the surface i was horrified to see that one of the girl's arms was gone--gnawed completely off at the shoulder--but the poor thing gave no indication of realizing pain, only the horror in her set eyes seemed intensified. the next time they appeared the other arm was gone, and then the breasts, and then a part of the face--it was awful. the poor creatures on the islands awaiting their fate tried to cover their eyes with their hands to hide the fearful sight, but now i saw that they too were under the hypnotic spell of the reptiles, so that they could only crouch in terror with their eyes fixed upon the terrible thing that was transpiring before them. finally the queen was under much longer than ever before, and when she rose she came alone and swam sleepily toward her bowlder. the moment she mounted it seemed to be the signal for the other mahars to enter the tank, and then commenced, upon a larger scale, a repetition of the uncanny performance through which the queen had led her victim. only the women and children fell prey to the mahars--they being the weakest and most tender--and when they had satisfied their appetite for human flesh, some of them devouring two and three of the slaves, there were only a score of full-grown men left, and i thought that for some reason these were to be spared, but such was far from the case, for as the last mahar crawled to her rock the queen's thipdars darted into the air, circled the temple once and then, hissing like steam engines, swooped down upon the remaining slaves. there was no hypnotism here--just the plain, brutal ferocity of the beast of prey, tearing, rending, and gulping its meat, but at that it was less horrible than the uncanny method of the mahars. by the time the thipdars had disposed of the last of the slaves the mahars were all asleep upon their rocks, and a moment later the great pterodactyls swung back to their posts beside the queen, and themselves dropped into slumber. "i thought the mahars seldom, if ever, slept," i said to ja. "they do many things in this temple which they do not do elsewhere," he replied. "the mahars of phutra are not supposed to eat human flesh, yet slaves are brought here by thousands and almost always you will find mahars on hand to consume them. i imagine that they do not bring their sagoths here, because they are ashamed of the practice, which is supposed to obtain only among the least advanced of their race; but i would wager my canoe against a broken paddle that there is no mahar but eats human flesh whenever she can get it." "why should they object to eating human flesh," i asked, "if it is true that they look upon us as lower animals?" "it is not because they consider us their equals that they are supposed to look with abhorrence upon those who eat our flesh," replied ja; "it is merely that we are warm-blooded animals. they would not think of eating the meat of a thag, which we consider such a delicacy, any more than i would think of eating a snake. as a matter of fact it is difficult to explain just why this sentiment should exist among them." "i wonder if they left a single victim," i remarked, leaning far out of the opening in the rocky wall to inspect the temple better. directly below me the water lapped the very side of the wall, there being a break in the bowlders at this point as there was at several other places about the side of the temple. my hands were resting upon a small piece of granite which formed a part of the wall, and all my weight upon it proved too much for it. it slipped and i lunged forward. there was nothing to save myself and i plunged headforemost into the water below. fortunately the tank was deep at this point, and i suffered no injury from the fall, but as i was rising to the surface my mind filled with the horrors of my position as i thought of the terrible doom which awaited me the moment the eyes of the reptiles fell upon the creature that had disturbed their slumber. as long as i could i remained beneath the surface, swimming rapidly in the direction of the islands that i might prolong my life to the utmost. at last i was forced to rise for air, and as i cast a terrified glance in the direction of the mahars and the thipdars i was almost stunned to see that not a single one remained upon the rocks where i had last seen them, nor as i searched the temple with my eyes could i discern any within it. for a moment i was puzzled to account for the thing, until i realized that the reptiles, being deaf, could not have been disturbed by the noise my body made when it hit the water, and that as there is no such thing as time within pellucidar there was no telling how long i had been beneath the surface. it was a difficult thing to attempt to figure out by earthly standards--this matter of elapsed time--but when i set myself to it i began to realize that i might have been submerged a second or a month or not at all. you have no conception of the strange contradictions and impossibilities which arise when all methods of measuring time, as we know them upon earth, are non-existent. i was about to congratulate myself upon the miracle which had saved me for the moment, when the memory of the hypnotic powers of the mahars filled me with apprehension lest they be practicing their uncanny art upon me to the end that i merely imagined that i was alone in the temple. at the thought cold sweat broke out upon me from every pore, and as i crawled from the water onto one of the tiny islands i was trembling like a leaf--you cannot imagine the awful horror which even the simple thought of the repulsive mahars of pellucidar induces in the human mind, and to feel that you are in their power--that they are crawling, slimy, and abhorrent, to drag you down beneath the waters and devour you! it is frightful. but they did not come, and at last i came to the conclusion that i was indeed alone within the temple. how long i should be alone was the next question to assail me as i swam frantically about once more in search of a means to escape. several times i called to ja, but he must have left after i tumbled into the tank, for i received no response to my cries. doubtless he had felt as certain of my doom when he saw me topple from our hiding place as i had, and lest he too should be discovered, had hastened from the temple and back to his village. i knew that there must be some entrance to the building beside the doorways in the roof, for it did not seem reasonable to believe that the thousands of slaves which were brought here to feed the mahars the human flesh they craved would all be carried through the air, and so i continued my search until at last it was rewarded by the discovery of several loose granite blocks in the masonry at one end of the temple. a little effort proved sufficient to dislodge enough of these stones to permit me to crawl through into the clearing, and a moment later i had scurried across the intervening space to the dense jungle beyond. here i sank panting and trembling upon the matted grasses beneath the giant trees, for i felt that i had escaped from the grinning fangs of death out of the depths of my own grave. whatever dangers lay hidden in this island jungle, there could be none so fearsome as those which i had just escaped. i knew that i could meet death bravely enough if it but came in the form of some familiar beast or man--anything other than the hideous and uncanny mahars. ix the face of death i must have fallen asleep from exhaustion. when i awoke i was very hungry, and after busying myself searching for fruit for a while, i set off through the jungle to find the beach. i knew that the island was not so large but that i could easily find the sea if i did but move in a straight line, but there came the difficulty as there was no way in which i could direct my course and hold it, the sun, of course, being always directly above my head, and the trees so thickly set that i could see no distant object which might serve to guide me in a straight line. as it was i must have walked for a great distance since i ate four times and slept twice before i reached the sea, but at last i did so, and my pleasure at the sight of it was greatly enhanced by the chance discovery of a hidden canoe among the bushes through which i had stumbled just prior to coming upon the beach. i can tell you that it did not take me long to pull that awkward craft down to the water and shove it far out from shore. my experience with ja had taught me that if i were to steal another canoe i must be quick about it and get far beyond the owner's reach as soon as possible. i must have come out upon the opposite side of the island from that at which ja and i had entered it, for the mainland was nowhere in sight. for a long time i paddled around the shore, though well out, before i saw the mainland in the distance. at the sight of it i lost no time in directing my course toward it, for i had long since made up my mind to return to phutra and give myself up that i might be once more with perry and ghak the hairy one. i felt that i was a fool ever to have attempted to escape alone, especially in view of the fact that our plans were already well formulated to make a break for freedom together. of course i realized that the chances of the success of our proposed venture were slim indeed, but i knew that i never could enjoy freedom without perry so long as the old man lived, and i had learned that the probability that i might find him was less than slight. had perry been dead, i should gladly have pitted my strength and wit against the savage and primordial world in which i found myself. i could have lived in seclusion within some rocky cave until i had found the means to outfit myself with the crude weapons of the stone age, and then set out in search of her whose image had now become the constant companion of my waking hours, and the central and beloved figure of my dreams. but, to the best of my knowledge, perry still lived and it was my duty and wish to be again with him, that we might share the dangers and vicissitudes of the strange world we had discovered. and ghak, too; the great, shaggy man had found a place in the hearts of us both, for he was indeed every inch a man and king. uncouth, perhaps, and brutal, too, if judged too harshly by the standards of effete twentieth-century civilization, but withal noble, dignified, chivalrous, and loveable. chance carried me to the very beach upon which i had discovered ja's canoe, and a short time later i was scrambling up the steep bank to retrace my steps from the plain of phutra. but my troubles came when i entered the canyon beyond the summit, for here i found that several of them centered at the point where i crossed the divide, and which one i had traversed to reach the pass i could not for the life of me remember. it was all a matter of chance and so i set off down that which seemed the easiest going, and in this i made the same mistake that many of us do in selecting the path along which we shall follow out the course of our lives, and again learned that it is not always best to follow the line of least resistance. by the time i had eaten eight meals and slept twice i was convinced that i was upon the wrong trail, for between phutra and the inland sea i had not slept at all, and had eaten but once. to retrace my steps to the summit of the divide and explore another canyon seemed the only solution of my problem, but a sudden widening and levelness of the canyon just before me seemed to suggest that it was about to open into a level country, and with the lure of discovery strong upon me i decided to proceed but a short distance farther before i turned back. the next turn of the canyon brought me to its mouth, and before me i saw a narrow plain leading down to an ocean. at my right the side of the canyon continued to the water's edge, the valley lying to my left, and the foot of it running gradually into the sea, where it formed a broad level beach. clumps of strange trees dotted the landscape here and there almost to the water, and rank grass and ferns grew between. from the nature of the vegetation i was convinced that the land between the ocean and the foothills was swampy, though directly before me it seemed dry enough all the way to the sandy strip along which the restless waters advanced and retreated. curiosity prompted me to walk down to the beach, for the scene was very beautiful. as i passed along beside the deep and tangled vegetation of the swamp i thought that i saw a movement of the ferns at my left, but though i stopped a moment to look it was not repeated, and if anything lay hid there my eyes could not penetrate the dense foliage to discern it. presently i stood upon the beach looking out over the wide and lonely sea across whose forbidding bosom no human being had yet ventured, to discover what strange and mysterious lands lay beyond, or what its invisible islands held of riches, wonders, or adventure. what savage faces, what fierce and formidable beasts were this very instant watching the lapping of the waves upon its farther shore! how far did it extend? perry had told me that the seas of pellucidar were small in comparison with those of the outer crust, but even so this great ocean might stretch its broad expanse for thousands of miles. for countless ages it had rolled up and down its countless miles of shore, and yet today it remained all unknown beyond the tiny strip that was visible from its beaches. the fascination of speculation was strong upon me. it was as though i had been carried back to the birth time of our own outer world to look upon its lands and seas ages before man had traversed either. here was a new world, all untouched. it called to me to explore it. i was dreaming of the excitement and adventure which lay before us could perry and i but escape the mahars, when something, a slight noise i imagine, drew my attention behind me. as i turned, romance, adventure, and discovery in the abstract took wing before the terrible embodiment of all three in concrete form that i beheld advancing upon me. a huge, slimy amphibian it was, with toad-like body and the mighty jaws of an alligator. its immense carcass must have weighed tons, and yet it moved swiftly and silently toward me. upon one hand was the bluff that ran from the canyon to the sea, on the other the fearsome swamp from which the creature had sneaked upon me, behind lay the mighty untracked sea, and before me in the center of the narrow way that led to safety stood this huge mountain of terrible and menacing flesh. a single glance at the thing was sufficient to assure me that i was facing one of those long-extinct, prehistoric creatures whose fossilized remains are found within the outer crust as far back as the triassic formation, a gigantic labyrinthodon. and there i was, unarmed, and, with the exception of a loin cloth, as naked as i had come into the world. i could imagine how my first ancestor felt that distant, prehistoric morn that he encountered for the first time the terrifying progenitor of the thing that had me cornered now beside the restless, mysterious sea. unquestionably he had escaped, or i should not have been within pellucidar or elsewhere, and i wished at that moment that he had handed down to me with the various attributes that i presumed i have inherited from him, the specific application of the instinct of self-preservation which saved him from the fate which loomed so close before me today. to seek escape in the swamp or in the ocean would have been similar to jumping into a den of lions to escape one upon the outside. the sea and swamp both were doubtless alive with these mighty, carnivorous amphibians, and if not, the individual that menaced me would pursue me into either the sea or the swamp with equal facility. there seemed nothing to do but stand supinely and await my end. i thought of perry--how he would wonder what had become of me. i thought of my friends of the outer world, and of how they all would go on living their lives in total ignorance of the strange and terrible fate that had overtaken me, or unguessing the weird surroundings which had witnessed the last frightful agony of my extinction. and with these thoughts came a realization of how unimportant to the life and happiness of the world is the existence of any one of us. we may be snuffed out without an instant's warning, and for a brief day our friends speak of us with subdued voices. the following morning, while the first worm is busily engaged in testing the construction of our coffin, they are teeing up for the first hole to suffer more acute sorrow over a sliced ball than they did over our, to us, untimely demise. the labyrinthodon was coming more slowly now. he seemed to realize that escape for me was impossible, and i could have sworn that his huge, fanged jaws grinned in pleasurable appreciation of my predicament, or was it in anticipation of the juicy morsel which would so soon be pulp between those formidable teeth? he was about fifty feet from me when i heard a voice calling to me from the direction of the bluff at my left. i looked and could have shouted in delight at the sight that met my eyes, for there stood ja, waving frantically to me, and urging me to run for it to the cliff's base. i had no idea that i should escape the monster that had marked me for his breakfast, but at least i should not die alone. human eyes would watch me end. it was cold comfort i presume, but yet i derived some slight peace of mind from the contemplation of it. to run seemed ridiculous, especially toward that steep and unscalable cliff, and yet i did so, and as i ran i saw ja, agile as a monkey, crawl down the precipitous face of the rocks, clinging to small projections, and the tough creepers that had found root-hold here and there. the labyrinthodon evidently thought that ja was coming to double his portion of human flesh, so he was in no haste to pursue me to the cliff and frighten away this other tidbit. instead he merely trotted along behind me. as i approached the foot of the cliff i saw what ja intended doing, but i doubted if the thing would prove successful. he had come down to within twenty feet of the bottom, and there, clinging with one hand to a small ledge, and with his feet resting precariously upon tiny bushes that grew from the solid face of the rock, he lowered the point of his long spear until it hung some six feet above the ground. to clamber up that slim shaft without dragging ja down and precipitating both to the same doom from which the copper-colored one was attempting to save me seemed utterly impossible, and as i came near the spear i told ja so, and that i could not risk him to try to save myself. but he insisted that he knew what he was doing and was in no danger himself. "the danger is still yours," he called, "for unless you move much more rapidly than you are now, the sithic will be upon you and drag you back before ever you are halfway up the spear--he can rear up and reach you with ease anywhere below where i stand." well, ja should know his own business, i thought, and so i grasped the spear and clambered up toward the red man as rapidly as i could--being so far removed from my simian ancestors as i am. i imagine the slow-witted sithic, as ja called him, suddenly realized our intentions and that he was quite likely to lose all his meal instead of having it doubled as he had hoped. when he saw me clambering up that spear he let out a hiss that fairly shook the ground, and came charging after me at a terrific rate. i had reached the top of the spear by this time, or almost; another six inches would give me a hold on ja's hand, when i felt a sudden wrench from below and glancing fearfully downward saw the mighty jaws of the monster close on the sharp point of the weapon. i made a frantic effort to reach ja's hand, the sithic gave a tremendous tug that came near to jerking ja from his frail hold on the surface of the rock, the spear slipped from his fingers, and still clinging to it i plunged feet foremost toward my executioner. at the instant that he felt the spear come away from ja's hand the creature must have opened his huge jaws to catch me, for when i came down, still clinging to the butt end of the weapon, the point yet rested in his mouth and the result was that the sharpened end transfixed his lower jaw. with the pain he snapped his mouth closed. i fell upon his snout, lost my hold upon the spear, rolled the length of his face and head, across his short neck onto his broad back and from there to the ground. scarce had i touched the earth than i was upon my feet, dashing madly for the path by which i had entered this horrible valley. a glance over my shoulder showed me the sithic engaged in pawing at the spear stuck through his lower jaw, and so busily engaged did he remain in this occupation that i had gained the safety of the cliff top before he was ready to take up the pursuit. when he did not discover me in sight within the valley he dashed, hissing, into the rank vegetation of the swamp and that was the last i saw of him. x phutra again i hastened to the cliff edge above ja and helped him to a secure footing. he would not listen to any thanks for his attempt to save me, which had come so near miscarrying. "i had given you up for lost when you tumbled into the mahar temple," he said, "for not even i could save you from their clutches, and you may imagine my surprise when on seeing a canoe dragged up upon the beach of the mainland i discovered your own footprints in the sand beside it. "i immediately set out in search of you, knowing as i did that you must be entirely unarmed and defenseless against the many dangers which lurk upon the mainland both in the form of savage beasts and reptiles, and men as well. i had no difficulty in tracking you to this point. it is well that i arrived when i did." "but why did you do it?" i asked, puzzled at this show of friendship on the part of a man of another world and a different race and color. "you saved my life," he replied; "from that moment it became my duty to protect and befriend you. i would have been no true mezop had i evaded my plain duty; but it was a pleasure in this instance for i like you. i wish that you would come and live with me. you shall become a member of my tribe. among us there is the best of hunting and fishing, and you shall have, to choose a mate from, the most beautiful girls of pellucidar. will you come?" i told him about perry then, and dian the beautiful, and how my duty was to them first. afterward i should return and visit him--if i could ever find his island. "oh, that is easy, my friend," he said. "you need merely to come to the foot of the highest peak of the mountains of the clouds. there you will find a river which flows into the lural az. directly opposite the mouth of the river you will see three large islands far out, so far that they are barely discernible, the one to the extreme left as you face them from the mouth of the river is anoroc, where i rule the tribe of anoroc." "but how am i to find the mountains of the clouds?" i asked. "men say that they are visible from half pellucidar," he replied. "how large is pellucidar?" i asked, wondering what sort of theory these primitive men had concerning the form and substance of their world. "the mahars say it is round, like the inside of a tola shell," he answered, "but that is ridiculous, since, were it true, we should fall back were we to travel far in any direction, and all the waters of pellucidar would run to one spot and drown us. no, pellucidar is quite flat and extends no man knows how far in all directions. at the edges, so my ancestors have reported and handed down to me, is a great wall that prevents the earth and waters from escaping over into the burning sea whereon pellucidar floats; but i never have been so far from anoroc as to have seen this wall with my own eyes. however, it is quite reasonable to believe that this is true, whereas there is no reason at all in the foolish belief of the mahars. according to them pellucidarians who live upon the opposite side walk always with their heads pointed downward!" and ja laughed uproariously at the very thought. it was plain to see that the human folk of this inner world had not advanced far in learning, and the thought that the ugly mahars had so outstripped them was a very pathetic one indeed. i wondered how many ages it would take to lift these people out of their ignorance even were it given to perry and me to attempt it. possibly we would be killed for our pains as were those men of the outer world who dared challenge the dense ignorance and superstitions of the earth's younger days. but it was worth the effort if the opportunity ever presented itself. and then it occurred to me that here was an opportunity--that i might make a small beginning upon ja, who was my friend, and thus note the effect of my teaching upon a pellucidarian. "ja," i said, "what would you say were i to tell you that in so far as the mahars' theory of the shape of pellucidar is concerned it is correct?" "i would say," he replied, "that either you are a fool, or took me for one." "but, ja," i insisted, "if their theory is incorrect how do you account for the fact that i was able to pass through the earth from the outer crust to pellucidar. if your theory is correct all is a sea of flame beneath us, wherein no peoples could exist, and yet i come from a great world that is covered with human beings, and beasts, and birds, and fishes in mighty oceans." "you live upon the under side of pellucidar, and walk always with your head pointed downward?" he scoffed. "and were i to believe that, my friend, i should indeed be mad." i attempted to explain the force of gravity to him, and by the means of the dropped fruit to illustrate how impossible it would be for a body to fall off the earth under any circumstances. he listened so intently that i thought i had made an impression, and started the train of thought that would lead him to a partial understanding of the truth. but i was mistaken. "your own illustration," he said finally, "proves the falsity of your theory." he dropped a fruit from his hand to the ground. "see," he said, "without support even this tiny fruit falls until it strikes something that stops it. if pellucidar were not supported upon the flaming sea it too would fall as the fruit falls--you have proven it yourself!" he had me, that time--you could see it in his eye. it seemed a hopeless job and i gave it up, temporarily at least, for when i contemplated the necessity explanation of our solar system and the universe i realized how futile it would be to attempt to picture to ja or any other pellucidarian the sun, the moon, the planets, and the countless stars. those born within the inner world could no more conceive of such things than can we of the outer crust reduce to factors appreciable to our finite minds such terms as space and eternity. "well, ja," i laughed, "whether we be walking with our feet up or down, here we are, and the question of greatest importance is not so much where we came from as where we are going now. for my part i wish that you could guide me to phutra where i may give myself up to the mahars once more that my friends and i may work out the plan of escape which the sagoths interrupted when they gathered us together and drove us to the arena to witness the punishment of the slaves who killed the guardsman. i wish now that i had not left the arena for by this time my friends and i might have made good our escape, whereas this delay may mean the wrecking of all our plans, which depended for their consummation upon the continued sleep of the three mahars who lay in the pit beneath the building in which we were confined." "you would return to captivity?" cried ja. "my friends are there," i replied, "the only friends i have in pellucidar, except yourself. what else may i do under the circumstances?" he thought for a moment in silence. then he shook his head sorrowfully. "it is what a brave man and a good friend should do," he said; "yet it seems most foolish, for the mahars will most certainly condemn you to death for running away, and so you will be accomplishing nothing for your friends by returning. never in all my life have i heard of a prisoner returning to the mahars of his own free will. there are but few who escape them, though some do, and these would rather die than be recaptured." "i see no other way, ja," i said, "though i can assure you that i would rather go to sheol after perry than to phutra. however, perry is much too pious to make the probability at all great that i should ever be called upon to rescue him from the former locality." ja asked me what sheol was, and when i explained, as best i could, he said, "you are speaking of molop az, the flaming sea upon which pellucidar floats. all the dead who are buried in the ground go there. piece by piece they are carried down to molop az by the little demons who dwell there. we know this because when graves are opened we find that the bodies have been partially or entirely borne off. that is why we of anoroc place our dead in high trees where the birds may find them and bear them bit by bit to the dead world above the land of awful shadow. if we kill an enemy we place his body in the ground that it may go to molop az." as we talked we had been walking up the canyon down which i had come to the great ocean and the sithic. ja did his best to dissuade me from returning to phutra, but when he saw that i was determined to do so, he consented to guide me to a point from which i could see the plain where lay the city. to my surprise the distance was but short from the beach where i had again met ja. it was evident that i had spent much time following the windings of a tortuous canyon, while just beyond the ridge lay the city of phutra near to which i must have come several times. as we topped the ridge and saw the granite gate towers dotting the flowered plain at our feet ja made a final effort to persuade me to abandon my mad purpose and return with him to anoroc, but i was firm in my resolve, and at last he bid me good-bye, assured in his own mind that he was looking upon me for the last time. i was sorry to part with ja, for i had come to like him very much indeed. with his hidden city upon the island of anoroc as a base, and his savage warriors as escort perry and i could have accomplished much in the line of exploration, and i hoped that were we successful in our effort to escape we might return to anoroc later. there was, however, one great thing to be accomplished first--at least it was the great thing to me--the finding of dian the beautiful. i wanted to make amends for the affront i had put upon her in my ignorance, and i wanted to--well, i wanted to see her again, and to be with her. down the hillside i made my way into the gorgeous field of flowers, and then across the rolling land toward the shadowless columns that guard the ways to buried phutra. at a quarter-mile from the nearest entrance i was discovered by the sagoth guard, and in an instant four of the gorilla-men were dashing toward me. though they brandished their long spears and yelled like wild comanches i paid not the slightest attention to them, walking quietly toward them as though unaware of their existence. my manner had the effect upon them that i had hoped, and as we came quite near together they ceased their savage shouting. it was evident that they had expected me to turn and flee at sight of them, thus presenting that which they most enjoyed, a moving human target at which to cast their spears. "what do you here?" shouted one, and then as he recognized me, "ho! it is the slave who claims to be from another world--he who escaped when the thag ran amuck within the amphitheater. but why do you return, having once made good your escape?" "i did not 'escape'," i replied. "i but ran away to avoid the thag, as did others, and coming into a long passage i became confused and lost my way in the foothills beyond phutra. only now have i found my way back." "and you come of your free will back to phutra!" exclaimed one of the guardsmen. "where else might i go?" i asked. "i am a stranger within pellucidar and know no other where than phutra. why should i not desire to be in phutra? am i not well fed and well treated? am i not happy? what better lot could man desire?" the sagoths scratched their heads. this was a new one on them, and so being stupid brutes they took me to their masters whom they felt would be better fitted to solve the riddle of my return, for riddle they still considered it. i had spoken to the sagoths as i had for the purpose of throwing them off the scent of my purposed attempt at escape. if they thought that i was so satisfied with my lot within phutra that i would voluntarily return when i had once had so excellent an opportunity to escape, they would never for an instant imagine that i could be occupied in arranging another escape immediately upon my return to the city. so they led me before a slimy mahar who clung to a slimy rock within the large room that was the thing's office. with cold, reptilian eyes the creature seemed to bore through the thin veneer of my deceit and read my inmost thoughts. it heeded the story which the sagoths told of my return to phutra, watching the gorilla-men's lips and fingers during the recital. then it questioned me through one of the sagoths. "you say that you returned to phutra of your own free will, because you think yourself better off here than elsewhere--do you not know that you may be the next chosen to give up your life in the interests of the wonderful scientific investigations that our learned ones are continually occupied with?" i hadn't heard of anything of that nature, but i thought best not to admit it. "i could be in no more danger here," i said, "than naked and unarmed in the savage jungles or upon the lonely plains of pellucidar. i was fortunate, i think, to return to phutra at all. as it was i barely escaped death within the jaws of a huge sithic. no, i am sure that i am safer in the hands of intelligent creatures such as rule phutra. at least such would be the case in my own world, where human beings like myself rule supreme. there the higher races of man extend protection and hospitality to the stranger within their gates, and being a stranger here i naturally assumed that a like courtesy would be accorded me." the mahar looked at me in silence for some time after i ceased speaking and the sagoth had translated my words to his master. the creature seemed deep in thought. presently he communicated some message to the sagoth. the latter turned, and motioning me to follow him, left the presence of the reptile. behind and on either side of me marched the balance of the guard. "what are they going to do with me?" i asked the fellow at my right. "you are to appear before the learned ones who will question you regarding this strange world from which you say you come." after a moment's silence he turned to me again. "do you happen to know," he asked, "what the mahars do to slaves who lie to them?" "no," i replied, "nor does it interest me, as i have no intention of lying to the mahars." "then be careful that you don't repeat the impossible tale you told sol-to-to just now--another world, indeed, where human beings rule!" he concluded in fine scorn. "but it is the truth," i insisted. "from where else then did i come? i am not of pellucidar. anyone with half an eye could see that." "it is your misfortune then," he remarked dryly, "that you may not be judged by one with but half an eye." "what will they do with me," i asked, "if they do not have a mind to believe me?" "you may be sentenced to the arena, or go to the pits to be used in research work by the learned ones," he replied. "and what will they do with me there?" i persisted. "no one knows except the mahars and those who go to the pits with them, but as the latter never return, their knowledge does them but little good. it is said that the learned ones cut up their subjects while they are yet alive, thus learning many useful things. however i should not imagine that it would prove very useful to him who was being cut up; but of course this is all but conjecture. the chances are that ere long you will know much more about it than i," and he grinned as he spoke. the sagoths have a well-developed sense of humor. "and suppose it is the arena," i continued; "what then?" "you saw the two who met the tarag and the thag the time that you escaped?" he said. "yes." "your end in the arena would be similar to what was intended for them," he explained, "though of course the same kinds of animals might not be employed." "it is sure death in either event?" i asked. "what becomes of those who go below with the learned ones i do not know, nor does any other," he replied; "but those who go to the arena may come out alive and thus regain their liberty, as did the two whom you saw." "they gained their liberty? and how?" "it is the custom of the mahars to liberate those who remain alive within the arena after the beasts depart or are killed. thus it has happened that several mighty warriors from far distant lands, whom we have captured on our slave raids, have battled the brutes turned in upon them and slain them, thereby winning their freedom. in the instance which you witnessed the beasts killed each other, but the result was the same--the man and woman were liberated, furnished with weapons, and started on their homeward journey. upon the left shoulder of each a mark was burned--the mark of the mahars--which will forever protect these two from slaving parties." "there is a slender chance for me then if i be sent to the arena, and none at all if the learned ones drag me to the pits?" "you are quite right," he replied; "but do not felicitate yourself too quickly should you be sent to the arena, for there is scarce one in a thousand who comes out alive." to my surprise they returned me to the same building in which i had been confined with perry and ghak before my escape. at the doorway i was turned over to the guards there. "he will doubtless be called before the investigators shortly," said he who had brought me back, "so have him in readiness." the guards in whose hands i now found myself, upon hearing that i had returned of my own volition to phutra evidently felt that it would be safe to give me liberty within the building as had been the custom before i had escaped, and so i was told to return to whatever duty had been mine formerly. my first act was to hunt up perry, whom i found poring as usual over the great tomes that he was supposed to be merely dusting and rearranging upon new shelves. as i entered the room he glanced up and nodded pleasantly to me, only to resume his work as though i had never been away at all. i was both astonished and hurt at his indifference. and to think that i was risking death to return to him purely from a sense of duty and affection! "why, perry!" i exclaimed, "haven't you a word for me after my long absence?" "long absence!" he repeated in evident astonishment. "what do you mean?" "are you crazy, perry? do you mean to say that you have not missed me since that time we were separated by the charging thag within the arena?" "'that time'," he repeated. "why man, i have but just returned from the arena! you reached here almost as soon as i. had you been much later i should indeed have been worried, and as it is i had intended asking you about how you escaped the beast as soon as i had completed the translation of this most interesting passage." "perry, you are mad," i exclaimed. "why, the lord only knows how long i have been away. i have been to other lands, discovered a new race of humans within pellucidar, seen the mahars at their worship in their hidden temple, and barely escaped with my life from them and from a great labyrinthodon that i met afterward, following my long and tedious wanderings across an unknown world. i must have been away for months, perry, and now you barely look up from your work when i return and insist that we have been separated but a moment. is that any way to treat a friend? i'm surprised at you, perry, and if i'd thought for a moment that you cared no more for me than this i should not have returned to chance death at the hands of the mahars for your sake." the old man looked at me for a long time before he spoke. there was a puzzled expression upon his wrinkled face, and a look of hurt sorrow in his eyes. "david, my boy," he said, "how could you for a moment doubt my love for you? there is something strange here that i cannot understand. i know that i am not mad, and i am equally sure that you are not; but how in the world are we to account for the strange hallucinations that each of us seems to harbor relative to the passage of time since last we saw each other. you are positive that months have gone by, while to me it seems equally certain that not more than an hour ago i sat beside you in the amphitheater. can it be that both of us are right and at the same time both are wrong? first tell me what time is, and then maybe i can solve our problem. do you catch my meaning?" i didn't and said so. "yes," continued the old man, "we are both right. to me, bent over my book here, there has been no lapse of time. i have done little or nothing to waste my energies and so have required neither food nor sleep, but you, on the contrary, have walked and fought and wasted strength and tissue which must needs be rebuilt by nutriment and food, and so, having eaten and slept many times since last you saw me you naturally measure the lapse of time largely by these acts. as a matter of fact, david, i am rapidly coming to the conviction that there is no such thing as time--surely there can be no time here within pellucidar, where there are no means for measuring or recording time. why, the mahars themselves take no account of such a thing as time. i find here in all their literary works but a single tense, the present. there seems to be neither past nor future with them. of course it is impossible for our outer-earthly minds to grasp such a condition, but our recent experiences seem to demonstrate its existence." it was too big a subject for me, and i said so, but perry seemed to enjoy nothing better than speculating upon it, and after listening with interest to my account of the adventures through which i had passed he returned once more to the subject, which he was enlarging upon with considerable fluency when he was interrupted by the entrance of a sagoth. "come!" commanded the intruder, beckoning to me. "the investigators would speak with you." "good-bye, perry!" i said, clasping the old man's hand. "there may be nothing but the present and no such thing as time, but i feel that i am about to take a trip into the hereafter from which i shall never return. if you and ghak should manage to escape i want you to promise me that you will find dian the beautiful and tell her that with my last words i asked her forgiveness for the unintentional affront i put upon her, and that my one wish was to be spared long enough to right the wrong that i had done her." tears came to perry's eyes. "i cannot believe but that you will return, david," he said. "it would be awful to think of living out the balance of my life without you among these hateful and repulsive creatures. if you are taken away i shall never escape, for i feel that i am as well off here as i should be anywhere within this buried world. good-bye, my boy, good-bye!" and then his old voice faltered and broke, and as he hid his face in his hands the sagoth guardsman grasped me roughly by the shoulder and hustled me from the chamber. xi four dead mahars a moment later i was standing before a dozen mahars--the social investigators of phutra. they asked me many questions, through a sagoth interpreter. i answered them all truthfully. they seemed particularly interested in my account of the outer earth and the strange vehicle which had brought perry and me to pellucidar. i thought that i had convinced them, and after they had sat in silence for a long time following my examination, i expected to be ordered returned to my quarters. during this apparent silence they were debating through the medium of strange, unspoken language the merits of my tale. at last the head of the tribunal communicated the result of their conference to the officer in charge of the sagoth guard. "come," he said to me, "you are sentenced to the experimental pits for having dared to insult the intelligence of the mighty ones with the ridiculous tale you have had the temerity to unfold to them." "do you mean that they do not believe me?" i asked, totally astonished. "believe you!" he laughed. "do you mean to say that you expected any one to believe so impossible a lie?" it was hopeless, and so i walked in silence beside my guard down through the dark corridors and runways toward my awful doom. at a low level we came upon a number of lighted chambers in which we saw many mahars engaged in various occupations. to one of these chambers my guard escorted me, and before leaving they chained me to a side wall. there were other humans similarly chained. upon a long table lay a victim even as i was ushered into the room. several mahars stood about the poor creature holding him down so that he could not move. another, grasping a sharp knife with her three-toed fore foot, was laying open the victim's chest and abdomen. no anesthetic had been administered and the shrieks and groans of the tortured man were terrible to hear. this, indeed, was vivisection with a vengeance. cold sweat broke out upon me as i realized that soon my turn would come. and to think that where there was no such thing as time i might easily imagine that my suffering was enduring for months before death finally released me! the mahars had paid not the slightest attention to me as i had been brought into the room. so deeply immersed were they in their work that i am sure they did not even know that the sagoths had entered with me. the door was close by. would that i could reach it! but those heavy chains precluded any such possibility. i looked about for some means of escape from my bonds. upon the floor between me and the mahars lay a tiny surgical instrument which one of them must have dropped. it looked not unlike a button-hook, but was much smaller, and its point was sharpened. a hundred times in my boyhood days had i picked locks with a buttonhook. could i but reach that little bit of polished steel i might yet effect at least a temporary escape. crawling to the limit of my chain, i found that by reaching one hand as far out as i could my fingers still fell an inch short of the coveted instrument. it was tantalizing! stretch every fiber of my being as i would, i could not quite make it. at last i turned about and extended one foot toward the object. my heart came to my throat! i could just touch the thing! but suppose that in my effort to drag it toward me i should accidentally shove it still farther away and thus entirely out of reach! cold sweat broke out upon me from every pore. slowly and cautiously i made the effort. my toes dropped upon the cold metal. gradually i worked it toward me until i felt that it was within reach of my hand and a moment later i had turned about and the precious thing was in my grasp. assiduously i fell to work upon the mahar lock that held my chain. it was pitifully simple. a child might have picked it, and a moment later i was free. the mahars were now evidently completing their work at the table. one already turned away and was examining other victims, evidently with the intention of selecting the next subject. those at the table had their backs toward me. but for the creature walking toward us i might have escaped that moment. slowly the thing approached me, when its attention was attracted by a huge slave chained a few yards to my right. here the reptile stopped and commenced to go over the poor devil carefully, and as it did so its back turned toward me for an instant, and in that instant i gave two mighty leaps that carried me out of the chamber into the corridor beyond, down which i raced with all the speed i could command. where i was, or whither i was going, i knew not. my only thought was to place as much distance as possible between me and that frightful chamber of torture. presently i reduced my speed to a brisk walk, and later realizing the danger of running into some new predicament, were i not careful, i moved still more slowly and cautiously. after a time i came to a passage that seemed in some mysterious way familiar to me, and presently, chancing to glance within a chamber which led from the corridor i saw three mahars curled up in slumber upon a bed of skins. i could have shouted aloud in joy and relief. it was the same corridor and the same mahars that i had intended to have lead so important a role in our escape from phutra. providence had indeed been kind to me, for the reptiles still slept. my one great danger now lay in returning to the upper levels in search of perry and ghak, but there was nothing else to be done, and so i hastened upward. when i came to the frequented portions of the building, i found a large burden of skins in a corner and these i lifted to my head, carrying them in such a way that ends and corners fell down about my shoulders completely hiding my face. thus disguised i found perry and ghak together in the chamber where we had been wont to eat and sleep. both were glad to see me, it was needless to say, though of course they had known nothing of the fate that had been meted out to me by my judges. it was decided that no time should now be lost before attempting to put our plan of escape to the test, as i could not hope to remain hidden from the sagoths long, nor could i forever carry that bale of skins about upon my head without arousing suspicion. however it seemed likely that it would carry me once more safely through the crowded passages and chambers of the upper levels, and so i set out with perry and ghak--the stench of the illy cured pelts fairly choking me. together we repaired to the first tier of corridors beneath the main floor of the buildings, and here perry and ghak halted to await me. the buildings are cut out of the solid limestone formation. there is nothing at all remarkable about their architecture. the rooms are sometimes rectangular, sometimes circular, and again oval in shape. the corridors which connect them are narrow and not always straight. the chambers are lighted by diffused sunlight reflected through tubes similar to those by which the avenues are lighted. the lower the tiers of chambers, the darker. most of the corridors are entirely unlighted. the mahars can see quite well in semidarkness. down to the main floor we encountered many mahars, sagoths, and slaves; but no attention was paid to us as we had become a part of the domestic life of the building. there was but a single entrance leading from the place into the avenue and this was well guarded by sagoths--this doorway alone were we forbidden to pass. it is true that we were not supposed to enter the deeper corridors and apartments except on special occasions when we were instructed to do so; but as we were considered a lower order without intelligence there was little reason to fear that we could accomplish any harm by so doing, and so we were not hindered as we entered the corridor which led below. wrapped in a skin i carried three swords, and the two bows, and the arrows which perry and i had fashioned. as many slaves bore skin-wrapped burdens to and fro my load attracted no comment. where i left ghak and perry there were no other creatures in sight, and so i withdrew one sword from the package, and leaving the balance of the weapons with perry, started on alone toward the lower levels. having come to the apartment in which the three mahars slept i entered silently on tiptoe, forgetting that the creatures were without the sense of hearing. with a quick thrust through the heart i disposed of the first but my second thrust was not so fortunate, so that before i could kill the next of my victims it had hurled itself against the third, who sprang quickly up, facing me with wide-distended jaws. but fighting is not the occupation which the race of mahars loves, and when the thing saw that i already had dispatched two of its companions, and that my sword was red with their blood, it made a dash to escape me. but i was too quick for it, and so, half hopping, half flying, it scurried down another corridor with me close upon its heels. its escape meant the utter ruin of our plan, and in all probability my instant death. this thought lent wings to my feet; but even at my best i could do no more than hold my own with the leaping thing before me. of a sudden it turned into an apartment on the right of the corridor, and an instant later as i rushed in i found myself facing two of the mahars. the one who had been there when we entered had been occupied with a number of metal vessels, into which had been put powders and liquids as i judged from the array of flasks standing about upon the bench where it had been working. in an instant i realized what i had stumbled upon. it was the very room for the finding of which perry had given me minute directions. it was the buried chamber in which was hidden the great secret of the race of mahars. and on the bench beside the flasks lay the skin-bound book which held the only copy of the thing i was to have sought, after dispatching the three mahars in their sleep. there was no exit from the room other than the doorway in which i now stood facing the two frightful reptiles. cornered, i knew that they would fight like demons, and they were well equipped to fight if fight they must. together they launched themselves upon me, and though i ran one of them through the heart on the instant, the other fastened its gleaming fangs about my sword arm above the elbow, and then with her sharp talons commenced to rake me about the body, evidently intent upon disemboweling me. i saw that it was useless to hope that i might release my arm from that powerful, viselike grip which seemed to be severing my arm from my body. the pain i suffered was intense, but it only served to spur me to greater efforts to overcome my antagonist. back and forth across the floor we struggled--the mahar dealing me terrific, cutting blows with her fore feet, while i attempted to protect my body with my left hand, at the same time watching for an opportunity to transfer my blade from my now useless sword hand to its rapidly weakening mate. at last i was successful, and with what seemed to me my last ounce of strength i ran the blade through the ugly body of my foe. soundless, as it had fought, it died, and though weak from pain and loss of blood, it was with an emotion of triumphant pride that i stepped across its convulsively stiffening corpse to snatch up the most potent secret of a world. a single glance assured me it was the very thing that perry had described to me. and as i grasped it did i think of what it meant to the human race of pellucidar--did there flash through my mind the thought that countless generations of my own kind yet unborn would have reason to worship me for the thing that i had accomplished for them? i did not. i thought of a beautiful oval face, gazing out of limpid eyes, through a waving mass of jet-black hair. i thought of red, red lips, god-made for kissing. and of a sudden, apropos of nothing, standing there alone in the secret chamber of the mahars of pellucidar, i realized that i loved dian the beautiful. xii pursuit for an instant i stood there thinking of her, and then, with a sigh, i tucked the book in the thong that supported my loin cloth, and turned to leave the apartment. at the bottom of the corridor which leads aloft from the lower chambers i whistled in accordance with the prearranged signal which was to announce to perry and ghak that i had been successful. a moment later they stood beside me, and to my surprise i saw that hooja the sly one accompanied them. "he joined us," explained perry, "and would not be denied. the fellow is a fox. he scents escape, and rather than be thwarted of our chance now i told him that i would bring him to you, and let you decide whether he might accompany us." i had no love for hooja, and no confidence in him. i was sure that if he thought it would profit him he would betray us; but i saw no way out of it now, and the fact that i had killed four mahars instead of only the three i had expected to, made it possible to include the fellow in our scheme of escape. "very well," i said, "you may come with us, hooja; but at the first intimation of treachery i shall run my sword through you. do you understand?" he said that he did. some time later we had removed the skins from the four mahars, and so succeeded in crawling inside of them ourselves that there seemed an excellent chance for us to pass unnoticed from phutra. it was not an easy thing to fasten the hides together where we had split them along the belly to remove them from their carcasses, but by remaining out until the others had all been sewed in with my help, and then leaving an aperture in the breast of perry's skin through which he could pass his hands to sew me up, we were enabled to accomplish our design to really much better purpose than i had hoped. we managed to keep the heads erect by passing our swords up through the necks, and by the same means were enabled to move them about in a life-like manner. we had our greatest difficulty with the webbed feet, but even that problem was finally solved, so that when we moved about we did so quite naturally. tiny holes punctured in the baggy throats into which our heads were thrust permitted us to see well enough to guide our progress. thus we started up toward the main floor of the building. ghak headed the strange procession, then came perry, followed by hooja, while i brought up the rear, after admonishing hooja that i had so arranged my sword that i could thrust it through the head of my disguise into his vitals were he to show any indication of faltering. as the noise of hurrying feet warned me that we were entering the busy corridors of the main level, my heart came up into my mouth. it is with no sense of shame that i admit that i was frightened--never before in my life, nor since, did i experience any such agony of soulsearing fear and suspense as enveloped me. if it be possible to sweat blood, i sweat it then. slowly, after the manner of locomotion habitual to the mahars, when they are not using their wings, we crept through throngs of busy slaves, sagoths, and mahars. after what seemed an eternity we reached the outer door which leads into the main avenue of phutra. many sagoths loitered near the opening. they glanced at ghak as he padded between them. then perry passed, and then hooja. now it was my turn, and then in a sudden fit of freezing terror i realized that the warm blood from my wounded arm was trickling down through the dead foot of the mahar skin i wore and leaving its tell-tale mark upon the pavement, for i saw a sagoth call a companion's attention to it. the guard stepped before me and pointing to my bleeding foot spoke to me in the sign language which these two races employ as a means of communication. even had i known what he was saying i could not have replied with the dead thing that covered me. i once had seen a great mahar freeze a presumptuous sagoth with a look. it seemed my only hope, and so i tried it. stopping in my tracks i moved my sword so that it made the dead head appear to turn inquiring eyes upon the gorilla-man. for a long moment i stood perfectly still, eyeing the fellow with those dead eyes. then i lowered the head and started slowly on. for a moment all hung in the balance, but before i touched him the guard stepped to one side, and i passed on out into the avenue. on we went up the broad street, but now we were safe for the very numbers of our enemies that surrounded us on all sides. fortunately, there was a great concourse of mahars repairing to the shallow lake which lies a mile or more from the city. they go there to indulge their amphibian proclivities in diving for small fish, and enjoying the cool depths of the water. it is a fresh-water lake, shallow, and free from the larger reptiles which make the use of the great seas of pellucidar impossible for any but their own kind. in the thick of the crowd we passed up the steps and out onto the plain. for some distance ghak remained with the stream that was traveling toward the lake, but finally, at the bottom of a little gully he halted, and there we remained until all had passed and we were alone. then, still in our disguises, we set off directly away from phutra. the heat of the vertical rays of the sun was fast making our horrible prisons unbearable, so that after passing a low divide, and entering a sheltering forest, we finally discarded the mahar skins that had brought us thus far in safety. i shall not weary you with the details of that bitter and galling flight. how we traveled at a dogged run until we dropped in our tracks. how we were beset by strange and terrible beasts. how we barely escaped the cruel fangs of lions and tigers the size of which would dwarf into pitiful insignificance the greatest felines of the outer world. on and on we raced, our one thought to put as much distance between ourselves and phutra as possible. ghak was leading us to his own land--the land of sari. no sign of pursuit had developed, and yet we were sure that somewhere behind us relentless sagoths were dogging our tracks. ghak said they never failed to hunt down their quarry until they had captured it or themselves been turned back by a superior force. our only hope, he said, lay in reaching his tribe which was quite strong enough in their mountain fastness to beat off any number of sagoths. at last, after what seemed months, and may, i now realize, have been years, we came in sight of the dun escarpment which buttressed the foothills of sari. at almost the same instant, hooja, who looked ever quite as much behind as before, announced that he could see a body of men far behind us topping a low ridge in our wake. it was the long-expected pursuit. i asked ghak if we could make sari in time to escape them. "we may," he replied; "but you will find that the sagoths can move with incredible swiftness, and as they are almost tireless they are doubtless much fresher than we. then--" he paused, glancing at perry. i knew what he meant. the old man was exhausted. for much of the period of our flight either ghak or i had half supported him on the march. with such a handicap, less fleet pursuers than the sagoths might easily overtake us before we could scale the rugged heights which confronted us. "you and hooja go on ahead," i said. "perry and i will make it if we are able. we cannot travel as rapidly as you two, and there is no reason why all should be lost because of that. it can't be helped--we have simply to face it." "i will not desert a companion," was ghak's simple reply. i hadn't known that this great, hairy, primeval man had any such nobility of character stowed away inside him. i had always liked him, but now to my liking was added honor and respect. yes, and love. but still i urged him to go on ahead, insisting that if he could reach his people he might be able to bring out a sufficient force to drive off the sagoths and rescue perry and myself. no, he wouldn't leave us, and that was all there was to it, but he suggested that hooja might hurry on and warn the sarians of the king's danger. it didn't require much urging to start hooja--the naked idea was enough to send him leaping on ahead of us into the foothills which we now had reached. perry realized that he was jeopardizing ghak's life and mine and the old fellow fairly begged us to go on without him, although i knew that he was suffering a perfect anguish of terror at the thought of falling into the hands of the sagoths. ghak finally solved the problem, in part, by lifting perry in his powerful arms and carrying him. while the act cut down ghak's speed he still could travel faster thus than when half supporting the stumbling old man. xiii the sly one the sagoths were gaining on us rapidly, for once they had sighted us they had greatly increased their speed. on and on we stumbled up the narrow canyon that ghak had chosen to approach the heights of sari. on either side rose precipitous cliffs of gorgeous, parti-colored rock, while beneath our feet a thick mountain grass formed a soft and noiseless carpet. since we had entered the canyon we had had no glimpse of our pursuers, and i was commencing to hope that they had lost our trail and that we would reach the now rapidly nearing cliffs in time to scale them before we should be overtaken. ahead we neither saw nor heard any sign which might betoken the success of hooja's mission. by now he should have reached the outposts of the sarians, and we should at least hear the savage cries of the tribesmen as they swarmed to arms in answer to their king's appeal for succor. in another moment the frowning cliffs ahead should be black with primeval warriors. but nothing of the kind happened--as a matter of fact the sly one had betrayed us. at the moment that we expected to see sarian spearmen charging to our relief at hooja's back, the craven traitor was sneaking around the outskirts of the nearest sarian village, that he might come up from the other side when it was too late to save us, claiming that he had become lost among the mountains. hooja still harbored ill will against me because of the blow i had struck in dian's protection, and his malevolent spirit was equal to sacrificing us all that he might be revenged upon me. as we drew nearer the barrier cliffs and no sign of rescuing sarians appeared ghak became both angry and alarmed, and presently as the sound of rapidly approaching pursuit fell upon our ears, he called to me over his shoulder that we were lost. a backward glance gave me a glimpse of the first of the sagoths at the far end of a considerable stretch of canyon through which we had just passed, and then a sudden turning shut the ugly creature from my view; but the loud howl of triumphant rage which rose behind us was evidence that the gorilla-man had sighted us. again the canyon veered sharply to the left, but to the right another branch ran on at a lesser deviation from the general direction, so that appeared more like the main canyon than the lefthand branch. the sagoths were now not over two hundred and fifty yards behind us, and i saw that it was hopeless for us to expect to escape other than by a ruse. there was a bare chance of saving ghak and perry, and as i reached the branching of the canyon i took the chance. pausing there i waited until the foremost sagoth hove into sight. ghak and perry had disappeared around a bend in the left-hand canyon, and as the sagoth's savage yell announced that he had seen me i turned and fled up the right-hand branch. my ruse was successful, and the entire party of man-hunters raced headlong after me up one canyon while ghak bore perry to safety up the other. running has never been my particular athletic forte, and now when my very life depended upon fleetness of foot i cannot say that i ran any better than on the occasions when my pitiful base running had called down upon my head the rooter's raucous and reproachful cries of "ice wagon," and "call a cab." the sagoths were gaining on me rapidly. there was one in particular, fleeter than his fellows, who was perilously close. the canyon had become a rocky slit, rising roughly at a steep angle toward what seemed a pass between two abutting peaks. what lay beyond i could not even guess--possibly a sheer drop of hundreds of feet into the corresponding valley upon the other side. could it be that i had plunged into a cul-de-sac? realizing that i could not hope to outdistance the sagoths to the top of the canyon i had determined to risk all in an attempt to check them temporarily, and to this end had unslung my rudely made bow and plucked an arrow from the skin quiver which hung behind my shoulder. as i fitted the shaft with my right hand i stopped and wheeled toward the gorilla-man. in the world of my birth i never had drawn a shaft, but since our escape from phutra i had kept the party supplied with small game by means of my arrows, and so, through necessity, had developed a fair degree of accuracy. during our flight from phutra i had restrung my bow with a piece of heavy gut taken from a huge tiger which ghak and i had worried and finally dispatched with arrows, spear, and sword. the hard wood of the bow was extremely tough and this, with the strength and elasticity of my new string, gave me unwonted confidence in my weapon. never had i greater need of steady nerves than then--never were my nerves and muscles under better control. i sighted as carefully and deliberately as though at a straw target. the sagoth had never before seen a bow and arrow, but of a sudden it must have swept over his dull intellect that the thing i held toward him was some sort of engine of destruction, for he too came to a halt, simultaneously swinging his hatchet for a throw. it is one of the many methods in which they employ this weapon, and the accuracy of aim which they achieve, even under the most unfavorable circumstances, is little short of miraculous. my shaft was drawn back its full length--my eye had centered its sharp point upon the left breast of my adversary; and then he launched his hatchet and i released my arrow. at the instant that our missiles flew i leaped to one side, but the sagoth sprang forward to follow up his attack with a spear thrust. i felt the swish of the hatchet as it grazed my head, and at the same instant my shaft pierced the sagoth's savage heart, and with a single groan he lunged almost at my feet--stone dead. close behind him were two more--fifty yards perhaps--but the distance gave me time to snatch up the dead guardsman's shield, for the close call his hatchet had just given me had borne in upon me the urgent need i had for one. those which i had purloined at phutra we had not been able to bring along because their size precluded our concealing them within the skins of the mahars which had brought us safely from the city. with the shield slipped well up on my left arm i let fly with another arrow, which brought down a second sagoth, and then as his fellow's hatchet sped toward me i caught it upon the shield, and fitted another shaft for him; but he did not wait to receive it. instead, he turned and retreated toward the main body of gorilla-men. evidently he had seen enough of me for the moment. once more i took up my flight, nor were the sagoths apparently overanxious to press their pursuit so closely as before. unmolested i reached the top of the canyon where i found a sheer drop of two or three hundred feet to the bottom of a rocky chasm; but on the left a narrow ledge rounded the shoulder of the overhanging cliff. along this i advanced, and at a sudden turning, a few yards beyond the canyon's end, the path widened, and at my left i saw the opening to a large cave. before, the ledge continued until it passed from sight about another projecting buttress of the mountain. here, i felt, i could defy an army, for but a single foeman could advance upon me at a time, nor could he know that i was awaiting him until he came full upon me around the corner of the turn. about me lay scattered stones crumbled from the cliff above. they were of various sizes and shapes, but enough were of handy dimensions for use as ammunition in lieu of my precious arrows. gathering a number of stones into a little pile beside the mouth of the cave i waited the advance of the sagoths. as i stood there, tense and silent, listening for the first faint sound that should announce the approach of my enemies, a slight noise from within the cave's black depths attracted my attention. it might have been produced by the moving of the great body of some huge beast rising from the rock floor of its lair. at almost the same instant i thought that i caught the scraping of hide sandals upon the ledge beyond the turn. for the next few seconds my attention was considerably divided. and then from the inky blackness at my right i saw two flaming eyes glaring into mine. they were on a level that was over two feet above my head. it is true that the beast who owned them might be standing upon a ledge within the cave, or that it might be rearing up upon its hind legs; but i had seen enough of the monsters of pellucidar to know that i might be facing some new and frightful titan whose dimensions and ferocity eclipsed those of any i had seen before. whatever it was, it was coming slowly toward the entrance of the cave, and now, deep and forbidding, it uttered a low and ominous growl. i waited no longer to dispute possession of the ledge with the thing which owned that voice. the noise had not been loud--i doubt if the sagoths heard it at all--but the suggestion of latent possibilities behind it was such that i knew it would only emanate from a gigantic and ferocious beast. as i backed along the ledge i soon was past the mouth of the cave, where i no longer could see those fearful flaming eyes, but an instant later i caught sight of the fiendish face of a sagoth as it warily advanced beyond the cliff's turn on the far side of the cave's mouth. as the fellow saw me he leaped along the ledge in pursuit, and after him came as many of his companions as could crowd upon each other's heels. at the same time the beast emerged from the cave, so that he and the sagoths came face to face upon that narrow ledge. the thing was an enormous cave bear, rearing its colossal bulk fully eight feet at the shoulder, while from the tip of its nose to the end of its stubby tail it was fully twelve feet in length. as it sighted the sagoths it emitted a most frightful roar, and with open mouth charged full upon them. with a cry of terror the foremost gorilla-man turned to escape, but behind him he ran full upon his on-rushing companions. the horror of the following seconds is indescribable. the sagoth nearest the cave bear, finding his escape blocked, turned and leaped deliberately to an awful death upon the jagged rocks three hundred feet below. then those giant jaws reached out and gathered in the next--there was a sickening sound of crushing bones, and the mangled corpse was dropped over the cliff's edge. nor did the mighty beast even pause in his steady advance along the ledge. shrieking sagoths were now leaping madly over the precipice to escape him, and the last i saw he rounded the turn still pursuing the demoralized remnant of the man hunters. for a long time i could hear the horrid roaring of the brute intermingled with the screams and shrieks of his victims, until finally the awful sounds dwindled and disappeared in the distance. later i learned from ghak, who had finally come to his tribesmen and returned with a party to rescue me, that the ryth, as it is called, pursued the sagoths until it had exterminated the entire band. ghak was, of course, positive that i had fallen prey to the terrible creature, which, within pellucidar, is truly the king of beasts. not caring to venture back into the canyon, where i might fall prey either to the cave bear or the sagoths i continued on along the ledge, believing that by following around the mountain i could reach the land of sari from another direction. but i evidently became confused by the twisting and turning of the canyons and gullies, for i did not come to the land of sari then, nor for a long time thereafter. xiv the garden of eden with no heavenly guide, it is little wonder that i became confused and lost in the labyrinthine maze of those mighty hills. what, in reality, i did was to pass entirely through them and come out above the valley upon the farther side. i know that i wandered for a long time, until tired and hungry i came upon a small cave in the face of the limestone formation which had taken the place of the granite farther back. the cave which took my fancy lay halfway up the precipitous side of a lofty cliff. the way to it was such that i knew no extremely formidable beast could frequent it, nor was it large enough to make a comfortable habitat for any but the smaller mammals or reptiles. yet it was with the utmost caution that i crawled within its dark interior. here i found a rather large chamber, lighted by a narrow cleft in the rock above which let the sunlight filter in in sufficient quantities partially to dispel the utter darkness which i had expected. the cave was entirely empty, nor were there any signs of its having been recently occupied. the opening was comparatively small, so that after considerable effort i was able to lug up a bowlder from the valley below which entirely blocked it. then i returned again to the valley for an armful of grasses and on this trip was fortunate enough to knock over an orthopi, the diminutive horse of pellucidar, a little animal about the size of a fox terrier, which abounds in all parts of the inner world. thus, with food and bedding i returned to my lair, where after a meal of raw meat, to which i had now become quite accustomed, i dragged the bowlder before the entrance and curled myself upon a bed of grasses--a naked, primeval, cave man, as savagely primitive as my prehistoric progenitors. i awoke rested but hungry, and pushing the bowlder aside crawled out upon the little rocky shelf which was my front porch. before me spread a small but beautiful valley, through the center of which a clear and sparkling river wound its way down to an inland sea, the blue waters of which were just visible between the two mountain ranges which embraced this little paradise. the sides of the opposite hills were green with verdure, for a great forest clothed them to the foot of the red and yellow and copper green of the towering crags which formed their summit. the valley itself was carpeted with a luxuriant grass, while here and there patches of wild flowers made great splashes of vivid color against the prevailing green. dotted over the face of the valley were little clusters of palmlike trees--three or four together as a rule. beneath these stood antelope, while others grazed in the open, or wandered gracefully to a nearby ford to drink. there were several species of this beautiful animal, the most magnificent somewhat resembling the giant eland of africa, except that their spiral horns form a complete curve backward over their ears and then forward again beneath them, ending in sharp and formidable points some two feet before the face and above the eyes. in size they remind one of a pure bred hereford bull, yet they are very agile and fast. the broad yellow bands that stripe the dark roan of their coats made me take them for zebra when i first saw them. all in all they are handsome animals, and added the finishing touch to the strange and lovely landscape that spread before my new home. i had determined to make the cave my headquarters, and with it as a base make a systematic exploration of the surrounding country in search of the land of sari. first i devoured the remainder of the carcass of the orthopi i had killed before my last sleep. then i hid the great secret in a deep niche at the back of my cave, rolled the bowlder before my front door, and with bow, arrows, sword, and shield scrambled down into the peaceful valley. the grazing herds moved to one side as i passed through them, the little orthopi evincing the greatest wariness and galloping to safest distances. all the animals stopped feeding as i approached, and after moving to what they considered a safe distance stood contemplating me with serious eyes and up-cocked ears. once one of the old bull antelopes of the striped species lowered his head and bellowed angrily--even taking a few steps in my direction, so that i thought he meant to charge; but after i had passed, he resumed feeding as though nothing had disturbed him. near the lower end of the valley i passed a number of tapirs, and across the river saw a great sadok, the enormous double-horned progenitor of the modern rhinoceros. at the valley's end the cliffs upon the left ran out into the sea, so that to pass around them as i desired to do it was necessary to scale them in search of a ledge along which i might continue my journey. some fifty feet from the base i came upon a projection which formed a natural path along the face of the cliff, and this i followed out over the sea toward the cliff's end. here the ledge inclined rapidly upward toward the top of the cliffs--the stratum which formed it evidently having been forced up at this steep angle when the mountains behind it were born. as i climbed carefully up the ascent my attention suddenly was attracted aloft by the sound of strange hissing, and what resembled the flapping of wings. and at the first glance there broke upon my horrified vision the most frightful thing i had seen even within pellucidar. it was a giant dragon such as is pictured in the legends and fairy tales of earth folk. its huge body must have measured forty feet in length, while the batlike wings that supported it in midair had a spread of fully thirty. its gaping jaws were armed with long, sharp teeth, and its claw equipped with horrible talons. the hissing noise which had first attracted my attention was issuing from its throat, and seemed to be directed at something beyond and below me which i could not see. the ledge upon which i stood terminated abruptly a few paces farther on, and as i reached the end i saw the cause of the reptile's agitation. some time in past ages an earthquake had produced a fault at this point, so that beyond the spot where i stood the strata had slipped down a matter of twenty feet. the result was that the continuation of my ledge lay twenty feet below me, where it ended as abruptly as did the end upon which i stood. and here, evidently halted in flight by this insurmountable break in the ledge, stood the object of the creature's attack--a girl cowering upon the narrow platform, her face buried in her arms, as though to shut out the sight of the frightful death which hovered just above her. the dragon was circling lower, and seemed about to dart in upon its prey. there was no time to be lost, scarce an instant in which to weigh the possible chances that i had against the awfully armed creature; but the sight of that frightened girl below me called out to all that was best in me, and the instinct for protection of the other sex, which nearly must have equaled the instinct of self-preservation in primeval man, drew me to the girl's side like an irresistible magnet. almost thoughtless of the consequences, i leaped from the end of the ledge upon which i stood, for the tiny shelf twenty feet below. at the same instant the dragon darted in toward the girl, but my sudden advent upon the scene must have startled him for he veered to one side, and then rose above us once more. the noise i made as i landed beside her convinced the girl that the end had come, for she thought i was the dragon; but finally when no cruel fangs closed upon her she raised her eyes in astonishment. as they fell upon me the expression that came into them would be difficult to describe; but her feelings could scarcely have been one whit more complicated than my own--for the wide eyes that looked into mine were those of dian the beautiful. "dian!" i cried. "dian! thank god that i came in time." "you?" she whispered, and then she hid her face again; nor could i tell whether she were glad or angry that i had come. once more the dragon was sweeping toward us, and so rapidly that i had no time to unsling my bow. all that i could do was to snatch up a rock, and hurl it at the thing's hideous face. again my aim was true, and with a hiss of pain and rage the reptile wheeled once more and soared away. quickly i fitted an arrow now that i might be ready at the next attack, and as i did so i looked down at the girl, so that i surprised her in a surreptitious glance which she was stealing at me; but immediately, she again covered her face with her hands. "look at me, dian," i pleaded. "are you not glad to see me?" she looked straight into my eyes. "i hate you," she said, and then, as i was about to beg for a fair hearing she pointed over my shoulder. "the thipdar comes," she said, and i turned again to meet the reptile. so this was a thipdar. i might have known it. the cruel bloodhound of the mahars. the long-extinct pterodactyl of the outer world. but this time i met it with a weapon it never had faced before. i had selected my longest arrow, and with all my strength had bent the bow until the very tip of the shaft rested upon the thumb of my left hand, and then as the great creature darted toward us i let drive straight for that tough breast. hissing like the escape valve of a steam engine, the mighty creature fell turning and twisting into the sea below, my arrow buried completely in its carcass. i turned toward the girl. she was looking past me. it was evident that she had seen the thipdar die. "dian," i said, "won't you tell me that you are not sorry that i have found you?" "i hate you," was her only reply; but i imagined that there was less vehemence in it than before--yet it might have been but my imagination. "why do you hate me, dian?" i asked, but she did not answer me. "what are you doing here?" i asked, "and what has happened to you since hooja freed you from the sagoths?" at first i thought that she was going to ignore me entirely, but finally she thought better of it. "i was again running away from jubal the ugly one," she said. "after i escaped from the sagoths i made my way alone back to my own land; but on account of jubal i did not dare enter the villages or let any of my friends know that i had returned for fear that jubal might find out. by watching for a long time i found that my brother had not yet returned, and so i continued to live in a cave beside a valley which my race seldom frequents, awaiting the time that he should come back and free me from jubal. "but at last one of jubal's hunters saw me as i was creeping toward my father's cave to see if my brother had yet returned and he gave the alarm and jubal set out after me. he has been pursuing me across many lands. he cannot be far behind me now. when he comes he will kill you and carry me back to his cave. he is a terrible man. i have gone as far as i can go, and there is no escape," and she looked hopelessly up at the continuation of the ledge twenty feet above us. "but he shall not have me," she suddenly cried, with great vehemence. "the sea is there"--she pointed over the edge of the cliff--"and the sea shall have me rather than jubal." "but i have you now dian," i cried; "nor shall jubal, nor any other have you, for you are mine," and i seized her hand, nor did i lift it above her head and let it fall in token of release. she had risen to her feet, and was looking straight into my eyes with level gaze. "i do not believe you," she said, "for if you meant it you would have done this when the others were present to witness it--then i should truly have been your mate; now there is no one to see you do it, for you know that without witnesses your act does not bind you to me," and she withdrew her hand from mine and turned away. i tried to convince her that i was sincere, but she simply couldn't forget the humiliation that i had put upon her on that other occasion. "if you mean all that you say you will have ample chance to prove it," she said, "if jubal does not catch and kill you. i am in your power, and the treatment you accord me will be the best proof of your intentions toward me. i am not your mate, and again i tell you that i hate you, and that i should be glad if i never saw you again." dian certainly was candid. there was no gainsaying that. in fact i found candor and directness to be quite a marked characteristic of the cave men of pellucidar. finally i suggested that we make some attempt to gain my cave, where we might escape the searching jubal, for i am free to admit that i had no considerable desire to meet the formidable and ferocious creature, of whose mighty prowess dian had told me when i first met her. he it was who, armed with a puny knife, had met and killed a cave bear in a hand-to-hand struggle. it was jubal who could cast his spear entirely through the armored carcass of the sadok at fifty paces. it was he who had crushed the skull of a charging dyryth with a single blow of his war club. no, i was not pining to meet the ugly one--and it was quite certain that i should not go out and hunt for him; but the matter was taken out of my hands very quickly, as is often the way, and i did meet jubal the ugly one face to face. this is how it happened. i had led dian back along the ledge the way she had come, searching for a path that would lead us to the top of the cliff, for i knew that we could then cross over to the edge of my own little valley, where i felt certain we should find a means of ingress from the cliff top. as we proceeded along the ledge i gave dian minute directions for finding my cave against the chance of something happening to me. i knew that she would be quite safely hidden away from pursuit once she gained the shelter of my lair, and the valley would afford her ample means of sustenance. also, i was very much piqued by her treatment of me. my heart was sad and heavy, and i wanted to make her feel badly by suggesting that something terrible might happen to me--that i might, in fact, be killed. but it didn't work worth a cent, at least as far as i could perceive. dian simply shrugged those magnificent shoulders of hers, and murmured something to the effect that one was not rid of trouble so easily as that. for a while i kept still. i was utterly squelched. and to think that i had twice protected her from attack--the last time risking my life to save hers. it was incredible that even a daughter of the stone age could be so ungrateful--so heartless; but maybe her heart partook of the qualities of her epoch. presently we found a rift in the cliff which had been widened and extended by the action of the water draining through it from the plateau above. it gave us a rather rough climb to the summit, but finally we stood upon the level mesa which stretched back for several miles to the mountain range. behind us lay the broad inland sea, curving upward in the horizonless distance to merge into the blue of the sky, so that for all the world it looked as though the sea lapped back to arch completely over us and disappear beyond the distant mountains at our backs--the weird and uncanny aspect of the seascapes of pellucidar balk description. at our right lay a dense forest, but to the left the country was open and clear to the plateau's farther verge. it was in this direction that our way led, and we had turned to resume our journey when dian touched my arm. i turned to her, thinking that she was about to make peace overtures; but i was mistaken. "jubal," she said, and nodded toward the forest. i looked, and there, emerging from the dense wood, came a perfect whale of a man. he must have been seven feet tall, and proportioned accordingly. he still was too far off to distinguish his features. "run," i said to dian. "i can engage him until you get a good start. maybe i can hold him until you have gotten entirely away," and then, without a backward glance, i advanced to meet the ugly one. i had hoped that dian would have a kind word to say to me before she went, for she must have known that i was going to my death for her sake; but she never even so much as bid me good-bye, and it was with a heavy heart that i strode through the flower-bespangled grass to my doom. when i had come close enough to jubal to distinguish his features i understood how it was that he had earned the sobriquet of ugly one. apparently some fearful beast had ripped away one entire side of his face. the eye was gone, the nose, and all the flesh, so that his jaws and all his teeth were exposed and grinning through the horrible scar. formerly he may have been as good to look upon as the others of his handsome race, and it may be that the terrible result of this encounter had tended to sour an already strong and brutal character. however this may be it is quite certain that he was not a pretty sight, and now that his features, or what remained of them, were distorted in rage at the sight of dian with another male, he was indeed most terrible to see--and much more terrible to meet. he had broken into a run now, and as he advanced he raised his mighty spear, while i halted and fitting an arrow to my bow took as steady aim as i could. i was somewhat longer than usual, for i must confess that the sight of this awful man had wrought upon my nerves to such an extent that my knees were anything but steady. what chance had i against this mighty warrior for whom even the fiercest cave bear had no terrors! could i hope to best one who slaughtered the sadok and dyryth singlehanded! i shuddered; but, in fairness to myself, my fear was more for dian than for my own fate. and then the great brute launched his massive stone-tipped spear, and i raised my shield to break the force of its terrific velocity. the impact hurled me to my knees, but the shield had deflected the missile and i was unscathed. jubal was rushing upon me now with the only remaining weapon that he carried--a murderous-looking knife. he was too close for a careful bowshot, but i let drive at him as he came, without taking aim. my arrow pierced the fleshy part of his thigh, inflicting a painful but not disabling wound. and then he was upon me. my agility saved me for the instant. i ducked beneath his raised arm, and when he wheeled to come at me again he found a sword's point in his face. and a moment later he felt an inch or two of it in the muscles of his knife arm, so that thereafter he went more warily. it was a duel of strategy now--the great, hairy man maneuvering to get inside my guard where he could bring those giant thews to play, while my wits were directed to the task of keeping him at arm's length. thrice he rushed me, and thrice i caught his knife blow upon my shield. each time my sword found his body--once penetrating to his lung. he was covered with blood by this time, and the internal hemorrhage induced paroxysms of coughing that brought the red stream through the hideous mouth and nose, covering his face and breast with bloody froth. he was a most unlovely spectacle, but he was far from dead. as the duel continued i began to gain confidence, for, to be perfectly candid, i had not expected to survive the first rush of that monstrous engine of ungoverned rage and hatred. and i think that jubal, from utter contempt of me, began to change to a feeling of respect, and then in his primitive mind there evidently loomed the thought that perhaps at last he had met his master, and was facing his end. at any rate it is only upon this hypothesis that i can account for his next act, which was in the nature of a last resort--a sort of forlorn hope, which could only have been born of the belief that if he did not kill me quickly i should kill him. it happened on the occasion of his fourth charge, when, instead of striking at me with his knife, he dropped that weapon, and seizing my sword blade in both his hands wrenched the weapon from my grasp as easily as from a babe. flinging it far to one side he stood motionless for just an instant glaring into my face with such a horrid leer of malignant triumph as to almost unnerve me--then he sprang for me with his bare hands. but it was jubal's day to learn new methods of warfare. for the first time he had seen a bow and arrows, never before that duel had he beheld a sword, and now he learned what a man who knows may do with his bare fists. as he came for me, like a great bear, i ducked again beneath his outstretched arm, and as i came up planted as clean a blow upon his jaw as ever you have seen. down went that great mountain of flesh sprawling upon the ground. he was so surprised and dazed that he lay there for several seconds before he made any attempt to rise, and i stood over him with another dose ready when he should gain his knees. up he came at last, almost roaring in his rage and mortification; but he didn't stay up--i let him have a left fair on the point of the jaw that sent him tumbling over on his back. by this time i think jubal had gone mad with hate, for no sane man would have come back for more as many times as he did. time after time i bowled him over as fast as he could stagger up, until toward the last he lay longer on the ground between blows, and each time came up weaker than before. he was bleeding very profusely now from the wound in his lungs, and presently a terrific blow over the heart sent him reeling heavily to the ground, where he lay very still, and somehow i knew at once that jubal the ugly one would never get up again. but even as i looked upon that massive body lying there so grim and terrible in death, i could not believe that i, single-handed, had bested this slayer of fearful beasts--this gigantic ogre of the stone age. picking up my sword i leaned upon it, looking down on the dead body of my foeman, and as i thought of the battle i had just fought and won a great idea was born in my brain--the outcome of this and the suggestion that perry had made within the city of phutra. if skill and science could render a comparative pygmy the master of this mighty brute, what could not the brute's fellows accomplish with the same skill and science. why all pellucidar would be at their feet--and i would be their king and dian their queen. dian! a little wave of doubt swept over me. it was quite within the possibilities of dian to look down upon me even were i king. she was quite the most superior person i ever had met--with the most convincing way of letting you know that she was superior. well, i could go to the cave, and tell her that i had killed jubal, and then she might feel more kindly toward me, since i had freed her of her tormentor. i hoped that she had found the cave easily--it would be terrible had i lost her again, and i turned to gather up my shield and bow to hurry after her, when to my astonishment i found her standing not ten paces behind me. "girl!" i cried, "what are you doing here? i thought that you had gone to the cave, as i told you to do." up went her head, and the look that she gave me took all the majesty out of me, and left me feeling more like the palace janitor--if palaces have janitors. "as you told me to do!" she cried, stamping her little foot. "i do as i please. i am the daughter of a king, and furthermore, i hate you." i was dumbfounded--this was my thanks for saving her from jubal! i turned and looked at the corpse. "may be that i saved you from a worse fate, old man," i said, but i guess it was lost on dian, for she never seemed to notice it at all. "let us go to my cave," i said, "i am tired and hungry." she followed along a pace behind me, neither of us speaking. i was too angry, and she evidently didn't care to converse with the lower orders. i was mad all the way through, as i had certainly felt that at least a word of thanks should have rewarded me, for i knew that even by her own standards, i must have done a very wonderful thing to have killed the redoubtable jubal in a hand-to-hand encounter. we had no difficulty in finding my lair, and then i went down into the valley and bowled over a small antelope, which i dragged up the steep ascent to the ledge before the door. here we ate in silence. occasionally i glanced at her, thinking that the sight of her tearing at raw flesh with her hands and teeth like some wild animal would cause a revulsion of my sentiments toward her; but to my surprise i found that she ate quite as daintily as the most civilized woman of my acquaintance, and finally i found myself gazing in foolish rapture at the beauties of her strong, white teeth. such is love. after our repast we went down to the river together and bathed our hands and faces, and then after drinking our fill went back to the cave. without a word i crawled into the farthest corner and, curling up, was soon asleep. when i awoke i found dian sitting in the doorway looking out across the valley. as i came out she moved to one side to let me pass, but she had no word for me. i wanted to hate her, but i couldn't. every time i looked at her something came up in my throat, so that i nearly choked. i had never been in love before, but i did not need any aid in diagnosing my case--i certainly had it and had it bad. god, how i loved that beautiful, disdainful, tantalizing, prehistoric girl! after we had eaten again i asked dian if she intended returning to her tribe now that jubal was dead, but she shook her head sadly, and said that she did not dare, for there was still jubal's brother to be considered--his oldest brother. "what has he to do with it?" i asked. "does he too want you, or has the option on you become a family heirloom, to be passed on down from generation to generation?" she was not quite sure as to what i meant. "it is probable," she said, "that they all will want revenge for the death of jubal--there are seven of them--seven terrible men. someone may have to kill them all, if i am to return to my people." it began to look as though i had assumed a contract much too large for me--about seven sizes, in fact. "had jubal any cousins?" i asked. it was just as well to know the worst at once. "yes," replied dian, "but they don't count--they all have mates. jubal's brothers have no mates because jubal could get none for himself. he was so ugly that women ran away from him--some have even thrown themselves from the cliffs of amoz into the darel az rather than mate with the ugly one." "but what had that to do with his brothers?" i asked. "i forget that you are not of pellucidar," said dian, with a look of pity mixed with contempt, and the contempt seemed to be laid on a little thicker than the circumstance warranted--as though to make quite certain that i shouldn't overlook it. "you see," she continued, "a younger brother may not take a mate until all his older brothers have done so, unless the older brother waives his prerogative, which jubal would not do, knowing that as long as he kept them single they would be all the keener in aiding him to secure a mate." noticing that dian was becoming more communicative i began to entertain hopes that she might be warming up toward me a bit, although upon what slender thread i hung my hopes i soon discovered. "as you dare not return to amoz," i ventured, "what is to become of you since you cannot be happy here with me, hating me as you do?" "i shall have to put up with you," she replied coldly, "until you see fit to go elsewhere and leave me in peace, then i shall get along very well alone." i looked at her in utter amazement. it seemed incredible that even a prehistoric woman could be so cold and heartless and ungrateful. then i arose. "i shall leave you now," i said haughtily, "i have had quite enough of your ingratitude and your insults," and then i turned and strode majestically down toward the valley. i had taken a hundred steps in absolute silence, and then dian spoke. "i hate you!" she shouted, and her voice broke--in rage, i thought. i was absolutely miserable, but i hadn't gone too far when i began to realize that i couldn't leave her alone there without protection, to hunt her own food amid the dangers of that savage world. she might hate me, and revile me, and heap indignity after indignity upon me, as she already had, until i should have hated her; but the pitiful fact remained that i loved her, and i couldn't leave her there alone. the more i thought about it the madder i got, so that by the time i reached the valley i was furious, and the result of it was that i turned right around and went up that cliff again as fast as i had come down. i saw that dian had left the ledge and gone within the cave, but i bolted right in after her. she was lying upon her face on the pile of grasses i had gathered for her bed. when she heard me enter she sprang to her feet like a tigress. "i hate you!" she cried. coming from the brilliant light of the noonday sun into the semidarkness of the cave i could not see her features, and i was rather glad, for i disliked to think of the hate that i should have read there. i never said a word to her at first. i just strode across the cave and grasped her by the wrists, and when she struggled, i put my arm around her so as to pinion her hands to her sides. she fought like a tigress, but i took my free hand and pushed her head back--i imagine that i had suddenly turned brute, that i had gone back a thousand million years, and was again a veritable cave man taking my mate by force--and then i kissed that beautiful mouth again and again. "dian," i cried, shaking her roughly, "i love you. can't you understand that i love you? that i love you better than all else in this world or my own? that i am going to have you? that love like mine cannot be denied?" i noticed that she lay very still in my arms now, and as my eyes became accustomed to the light i saw that she was smiling--a very contented, happy smile. i was thunderstruck. then i realized that, very gently, she was trying to disengage her arms, and i loosened my grip upon them so that she could do so. slowly they came up and stole about my neck, and then she drew my lips down to hers once more and held them there for a long time. at last she spoke. "why didn't you do this at first, david? i have been waiting so long." "what!" i cried. "you said that you hated me!" "did you expect me to run into your arms, and say that i loved you before i knew that you loved me?" she asked. "but i have told you right along that i love you," i said. "love speaks in acts," she replied. "you could have made your mouth say what you wished it to say, but just now when you came and took me in your arms your heart spoke to mine in the language that a woman's heart understands. what a silly man you are, david." "then you haven't hated me at all, dian?" i asked. "i have loved you always," she whispered, "from the first moment that i saw you, although i did not know it until that time you struck down hooja the sly one, and then spurned me." "but i didn't spurn you, dear," i cried. "i didn't know your ways--i doubt if i do now. it seems incredible that you could have reviled me so, and yet have cared for me all the time." "you might have known," she said, "when i did not run away from you that it was not hate which chained me to you. while you were battling with jubal, i could have run to the edge of the forest, and when i learned the outcome of the combat it would have been a simple thing to have eluded you and returned to my own people." "but jubal's brothers--and cousins--" i reminded her, "how about them?" she smiled, and hid her face on my shoulder. "i had to tell you something, david," she whispered. "i must needs have some excuse for remaining near you." "you little sinner!" i exclaimed. "and you have caused me all this anguish for nothing!" "i have suffered even more," she answered simply, "for i thought that you did not love me, and i was helpless. i couldn't come to you and demand that my love be returned, as you have just come to me. just now when you went away hope went with you. i was wretched, terrified, miserable, and my heart was breaking. i wept, and i have not done that before since my mother died," and now i saw that there was the moisture of tears about her eyes. it was near to making me cry myself when i thought of all that poor child had been through. motherless and unprotected; hunted across a savage, primeval world by that hideous brute of a man; exposed to the attacks of the countless fearsome denizens of its mountains, its plains, and its jungles--it was a miracle that she had survived it all. to me it was a revelation of the things my early forebears must have endured that the human race of the outer crust might survive. it made me very proud to think that i had won the love of such a woman. of course she couldn't read or write; there was nothing cultured or refined about her as you judge culture and refinement; but she was the essence of all that is best in woman, for she was good, and brave, and noble, and virtuous. and she was all these things in spite of the fact that their observance entailed suffering and danger and possible death. how much easier it would have been to have gone to jubal in the first place! she would have been his lawful mate. she would have been queen in her own land--and it meant just as much to the cave woman to be a queen in the stone age as it does to the woman of today to be a queen now; it's all comparative glory any way you look at it, and if there were only half-naked savages on the outer crust today, you'd find that it would be considerable glory to be the wife of a dahomey chief. i couldn't help but compare dian's action with that of a splendid young woman i had known in new york--i mean splendid to look at and to talk to. she had been head over heels in love with a chum of mine--a clean, manly chap--but she had married a broken-down, disreputable old debauchee because he was a count in some dinky little european principality that was not even accorded a distinctive color by rand mcnally. yes, i was mighty proud of dian. after a time we decided to set out for sari, as i was anxious to see perry, and to know that all was right with him. i had told dian about our plan of emancipating the human race of pellucidar, and she was fairly wild over it. she said that if dacor, her brother, would only return he could easily be king of amoz, and that then he and ghak could form an alliance. that would give us a flying start, for the sarians and the amozites were both very powerful tribes. once they had been armed with swords, and bows and arrows, and trained in their use we were confident that they could overcome any tribe that seemed disinclined to join the great army of federated states with which we were planning to march upon the mahars. i explained the various destructive engines of war which perry and i could construct after a little experimentation--gunpowder, rifles, cannon, and the like, and dian would clap her hands, and throw her arms about my neck, and tell me what a wonderful thing i was. she was beginning to think that i was omnipotent although i really hadn't done anything but talk--but that is the way with women when they love. perry used to say that if a fellow was one-tenth as remarkable as his wife or mother thought him, he would have the world by the tail with a down-hill drag. the first time we started for sari i stepped into a nest of poisonous vipers before we reached the valley. a little fellow stung me on the ankle, and dian made me come back to the cave. she said that i mustn't exercise, or it might prove fatal--if it had been a full-grown snake that struck me she said, i wouldn't have moved a single pace from the nest--i'd have died in my tracks, so virulent is the poison. as it was i must have been laid up for quite a while, though dian's poultices of herbs and leaves finally reduced the swelling and drew out the poison. the episode proved most fortunate, however, as it gave me an idea which added a thousand-fold to the value of my arrows as missiles of offense and defense. as soon as i was able to be about again, i sought out some adult vipers of the species which had stung me, and having killed them, i extracted their virus, smearing it upon the tips of several arrows. later i shot a hyaenodon with one of these, and though my arrow inflicted but a superficial flesh wound the beast crumpled in death almost immediately after he was hit. we now set out once more for the land of the sarians, and it was with feelings of sincere regret that we bade good-bye to our beautiful garden of eden, in the comparative peace and harmony of which we had lived the happiest moments of our lives. how long we had been there i did not know, for as i have told you, time had ceased to exist for me beneath that eternal noonday sun--it may have been an hour, or a month of earthly time; i do not know. xv back to earth we crossed the river and passed through the mountains beyond, and finally we came out upon a great level plain which stretched away as far as the eye could reach. i cannot tell you in what direction it stretched even if you would care to know, for all the while that i was within pellucidar i never discovered any but local methods of indicating direction--there is no north, no south, no east, no west. up is about the only direction which is well defined, and that, of course, is down to you of the outer crust. since the sun neither rises nor sets there is no method of indicating direction beyond visible objects such as high mountains, forests, lakes, and seas. the plain which lies beyond the white cliffs which flank the darel az upon the shore nearest the mountains of the clouds is about as near to any direction as any pellucidarian can come. if you happen not to have heard of the darel az, or the white cliffs, or the mountains of the clouds you feel that there is something lacking, and long for the good old understandable northeast and southwest of the outer world. we had barely entered the great plain when we discovered two enormous animals approaching us from a great distance. so far were they that we could not distinguish what manner of beasts they might be, but as they came closer, i saw that they were enormous quadrupeds, eighty or a hundred feet long, with tiny heads perched at the top of very long necks. their heads must have been quite forty feet from the ground. the beasts moved very slowly--that is their action was slow--but their strides covered such a great distance that in reality they traveled considerably faster than a man walks. as they drew still nearer we discovered that upon the back of each sat a human being. then dian knew what they were, though she never before had seen one. "they are lidis from the land of the thorians," she cried. "thoria lies at the outer verge of the land of awful shadow. the thorians alone of all the races of pellucidar ride the lidi, for nowhere else than beside the dark country are they found." "what is the land of awful shadow?" i asked. "it is the land which lies beneath the dead world," replied dian; "the dead world which hangs forever between the sun and pellucidar above the land of awful shadow. it is the dead world which makes the great shadow upon this portion of pellucidar." i did not fully understand what she meant, nor am i sure that i do yet, for i have never been to that part of pellucidar from which the dead world is visible; but perry says that it is the moon of pellucidar--a tiny planet within a planet--and that it revolves around the earth's axis coincidently with the earth, and thus is always above the same spot within pellucidar. i remember that perry was very much excited when i told him about this dead world, for he seemed to think that it explained the hitherto inexplicable phenomena of nutation and the precession of the equinoxes. when the two upon the lidis had come quite close to us we saw that one was a man and the other a woman. the former had held up his two hands, palms toward us, in sign of peace, and i had answered him in kind, when he suddenly gave a cry of astonishment and pleasure, and slipping from his enormous mount ran forward toward dian, throwing his arms about her. in an instant i was white with jealousy, but only for an instant; since dian quickly drew the man toward me, telling him that i was david, her mate. "and this is my brother, dacor the strong one, david," she said to me. it appeared that the woman was dacor's mate. he had found none to his liking among the sari, nor farther on until he had come to the land of the thoria, and there he had found and fought for this very lovely thorian maiden whom he was bringing back to his own people. when they had heard our story and our plans they decided to accompany us to sari, that dacor and ghak might come to an agreement relative to an alliance, as dacor was quite as enthusiastic about the proposed annihilation of the mahars and sagoths as either dian or i. after a journey which was, for pellucidar, quite uneventful, we came to the first of the sarian villages which consists of between one and two hundred artificial caves cut into the face of a great cliff. here to our immense delight, we found both perry and ghak. the old man was quite overcome at sight of me for he had long since given me up as dead. when i introduced dian as my wife, he didn't quite know what to say, but he afterward remarked that with the pick of two worlds i could not have done better. ghak and dacor reached a very amicable arrangement, and it was at a council of the head men of the various tribes of the sari that the eventual form of government was tentatively agreed upon. roughly, the various kingdoms were to remain virtually independent, but there was to be one great overlord, or emperor. it was decided that i should be the first of the dynasty of the emperors of pellucidar. we set about teaching the women how to make bows and arrows, and poison pouches. the young men hunted the vipers which provided the virus, and it was they who mined the iron ore, and fashioned the swords under perry's direction. rapidly the fever spread from one tribe to another until representatives from nations so far distant that the sarians had never even heard of them came in to take the oath of allegiance which we required, and to learn the art of making the new weapons and using them. we sent our young men out as instructors to every nation of the federation, and the movement had reached colossal proportions before the mahars discovered it. the first intimation they had was when three of their great slave caravans were annihilated in rapid succession. they could not comprehend that the lower orders had suddenly developed a power which rendered them really formidable. in one of the skirmishes with slave caravans some of our sarians took a number of sagoth prisoners, and among them were two who had been members of the guards within the building where we had been confined at phutra. they told us that the mahars were frantic with rage when they discovered what had taken place in the cellars of the buildings. the sagoths knew that something very terrible had befallen their masters, but the mahars had been most careful to see that no inkling of the true nature of their vital affliction reached beyond their own race. how long it would take for the race to become extinct it was impossible even to guess; but that this must eventually happen seemed inevitable. the mahars had offered fabulous rewards for the capture of any one of us alive, and at the same time had threatened to inflict the direst punishment upon whomever should harm us. the sagoths could not understand these seemingly paradoxical instructions, though their purpose was quite evident to me. the mahars wanted the great secret, and they knew that we alone could deliver it to them. perry's experiments in the manufacture of gunpowder and the fashioning of rifles had not progressed as rapidly as we had hoped--there was a whole lot about these two arts which perry didn't know. we were both assured that the solution of these problems would advance the cause of civilization within pellucidar thousands of years at a single stroke. then there were various other arts and sciences which we wished to introduce, but our combined knowledge of them did not embrace the mechanical details which alone could render them of commercial, or practical value. "david," said perry, immediately after his latest failure to produce gunpowder that would even burn, "one of us must return to the outer world and bring back the information we lack. here we have all the labor and materials for reproducing anything that ever has been produced above--what we lack is knowledge. let us go back and get that knowledge in the shape of books--then this world will indeed be at our feet." and so it was decided that i should return in the prospector, which still lay upon the edge of the forest at the point where we had first penetrated to the surface of the inner world. dian would not listen to any arrangement for my going which did not include her, and i was not sorry that she wished to accompany me, for i wanted her to see my world, and i wanted my world to see her. with a large force of men we marched to the great iron mole, which perry soon had hoisted into position with its nose pointed back toward the outer crust. he went over all the machinery carefully. he replenished the air tanks, and manufactured oil for the engine. at last everything was ready, and we were about to set out when our pickets, a long, thin line of which had surrounded our camp at all times, reported that a great body of what appeared to be sagoths and mahars were approaching from the direction of phutra. dian and i were ready to embark, but i was anxious to witness the first clash between two fair-sized armies of the opposing races of pellucidar. i realized that this was to mark the historic beginning of a mighty struggle for possession of a world, and as the first emperor of pellucidar i felt that it was not alone my duty, but my right, to be in the thick of that momentous struggle. as the opposing army approached we saw that there were many mahars with the sagoth troops--an indication of the vast importance which the dominant race placed upon the outcome of this campaign, for it was not customary with them to take active part in the sorties which their creatures made for slaves--the only form of warfare which they waged upon the lower orders. ghak and dacor were both with us, having come primarily to view the prospector. i placed ghak with some of his sarians on the right of our battle line. dacor took the left, while i commanded the center. behind us i stationed a sufficient reserve under one of ghak's head men. the sagoths advanced steadily with menacing spears, and i let them come until they were within easy bowshot before i gave the word to fire. at the first volley of poison-tipped arrows the front ranks of the gorilla-men crumpled to the ground; but those behind charged over the prostrate forms of their comrades in a wild, mad rush to be upon us with their spears. a second volley stopped them for an instant, and then my reserve sprang through the openings in the firing line to engage them with sword and shield. the clumsy spears of the sagoths were no match for the swords of the sarian and amozite, who turned the spear thrusts aside with their shields and leaped to close quarters with their lighter, handier weapons. ghak took his archers along the enemy's flank, and while the swordsmen engaged them in front, he poured volley after volley into their unprotected left. the mahars did little real fighting, and were more in the way than otherwise, though occasionally one of them would fasten its powerful jaw upon the arm or leg of a sarian. the battle did not last a great while, for when dacor and i led our men in upon the sagoth's right with naked swords they were already so demoralized that they turned and fled before us. we pursued them for some time, taking many prisoners and recovering nearly a hundred slaves, among whom was hooja the sly one. he told me that he had been captured while on his way to his own land; but that his life had been spared in hope that through him the mahars would learn the whereabouts of their great secret. ghak and i were inclined to think that the sly one had been guiding this expedition to the land of sari, where he thought that the book might be found in perry's possession; but we had no proof of this and so we took him in and treated him as one of us, although none liked him. and how he rewarded my generosity you will presently learn. there were a number of mahars among our prisoners, and so fearful were our own people of them that they would not approach them unless completely covered from the sight of the reptiles by a piece of skin. even dian shared the popular superstition regarding the evil effects of exposure to the eyes of angry mahars, and though i laughed at her fears i was willing enough to humor them if it would relieve her apprehension in any degree, and so she sat apart from the prospector, near which the mahars had been chained, while perry and i again inspected every portion of the mechanism. at last i took my place in the driving seat, and called to one of the men without to fetch dian. it happened that hooja stood quite close to the doorway of the prospector, so that it was he who, without my knowledge, went to bring her; but how he succeeded in accomplishing the fiendish thing he did, i cannot guess, unless there were others in the plot to aid him. nor can i believe that, since all my people were loyal to me and would have made short work of hooja had he suggested the heartless scheme, even had he had time to acquaint another with it. it was all done so quickly that i may only believe that it was the result of sudden impulse, aided by a number of, to hooja, fortuitous circumstances occurring at precisely the right moment. all i know is that it was hooja who brought dian to the prospector, still wrapped from head to toe in the skin of an enormous cave lion which covered her since the mahar prisoners had been brought into camp. he deposited his burden in the seat beside me. i was all ready to get under way. the good-byes had been said. perry had grasped my hand in the last, long farewell. i closed and barred the outer and inner doors, took my seat again at the driving mechanism, and pulled the starting lever. as before on that far-gone night that had witnessed our first trial of the iron monster, there was a frightful roaring beneath us--the giant frame trembled and vibrated--there was a rush of sound as the loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. once more the thing was off. but on the instant of departure i was nearly thrown from my seat by the sudden lurching of the prospector. at first i did not realize what had happened, but presently it dawned upon me that just before entering the crust the towering body had fallen through its supporting scaffolding, and that instead of entering the ground vertically we were plunging into it at a different angle. where it would bring us out upon the upper crust i could not even conjecture. and then i turned to note the effect of this strange experience upon dian. she still sat shrouded in the great skin. "come, come," i cried, laughing, "come out of your shell. no mahar eyes can reach you here," and i leaned over and snatched the lion skin from her. and then i shrank back upon my seat in utter horror. the thing beneath the skin was not dian--it was a hideous mahar. instantly i realized the trick that hooja had played upon me, and the purpose of it. rid of me, forever as he doubtless thought, dian would be at his mercy. frantically i tore at the steering wheel in an effort to turn the prospector back toward pellucidar; but, as on that other occasion, i could not budge the thing a hair. it is needless to recount the horrors or the monotony of that journey. it varied but little from the former one which had brought us from the outer to the inner world. because of the angle at which we had entered the ground the trip required nearly a day longer, and brought me out here upon the sand of the sahara instead of in the united states as i had hoped. for months i have been waiting here for a white man to come. i dared not leave the prospector for fear i should never be able to find it again--the shifting sands of the desert would soon cover it, and then my only hope of returning to my dian and her pellucidar would be gone forever. that i ever shall see her again seems but remotely possible, for how may i know upon what part of pellucidar my return journey may terminate--and how, without a north or south or an east or a west may i hope ever to find my way across that vast world to the tiny spot where my lost love lies grieving for me? that is the story as david innes told it to me in the goat-skin tent upon the rim of the great sahara desert. the next day he took me out to see the prospector--it was precisely as he had described it. so huge was it that it could have been brought to this inaccessible part of the world by no means of transportation that existed there--it could only have come in the way that david innes said it came--up through the crust of the earth from the inner world of pellucidar. i spent a week with him, and then, abandoning my lion hunt, returned directly to the coast and hurried to london where i purchased a great quantity of stuff which he wished to take back to pellucidar with him. there were books, rifles, revolvers, ammunition, cameras, chemicals, telephones, telegraph instruments, wire, tools and more books--books upon every subject under the sun. he said he wanted a library with which they could reproduce the wonders of the twentieth century in the stone age and if quantity counts for anything i got it for him. i took the things back to algeria myself, and accompanied them to the end of the railroad; but from here i was recalled to america upon important business. however, i was able to employ a very trustworthy man to take charge of the caravan--the same guide, in fact, who had accompanied me on the previous trip into the sahara--and after writing a long letter to innes in which i gave him my american address, i saw the expedition head south. among the other things which i sent to innes was over five hundred miles of double, insulated wire of a very fine gauge. i had it packed on a special reel at his suggestion, as it was his idea that he could fasten one end here before he left and by paying it out through the end of the prospector lay a telegraph line between the outer and inner worlds. in my letter i told him to be sure to mark the terminus of the line very plainly with a high cairn, in case i was not able to reach him before he set out, so that i might easily find and communicate with him should he be so fortunate as to reach pellucidar. i received several letters from him after i returned to america--in fact he took advantage of every northward-passing caravan to drop me word of some sort. his last letter was written the day before he intended to depart. here it is. my dear friend: tomorrow i shall set out in quest of pellucidar and dian. that is if the arabs don't get me. they have been very nasty of late. i don't know the cause, but on two occasions they have threatened my life. one, more friendly than the rest, told me today that they intended attacking me tonight. it would be unfortunate should anything of that sort happen now that i am so nearly ready to depart. however, maybe i will be as well off, for the nearer the hour approaches, the slenderer my chances for success appear. here is the friendly arab who is to take this letter north for me, so good-bye, and god bless you for your kindness to me. the arab tells me to hurry, for he sees a cloud of sand to the south--he thinks it is the party coming to murder me, and he doesn't want to be found with me. so good-bye again. yours, david innes. a year later found me at the end of the railroad once more, headed for the spot where i had left innes. my first disappointment was when i discovered that my old guide had died within a few weeks of my return, nor could i find any member of my former party who could lead me to the same spot. for months i searched that scorching land, interviewing countless desert sheiks in the hope that at last i might find one who had heard of innes and his wonderful iron mole. constantly my eyes scanned the blinding waste of sand for the rocky cairn beneath which i was to find the wires leading to pellucidar--but always was i unsuccessful. and always do these awful questions harass me when i think of david innes and his strange adventures. did the arabs murder him, after all, just on the eve of his departure? or, did he again turn the nose of his iron monster toward the inner world? did he reach it, or lies he somewhere buried in the heart of the great crust? and if he did come again to pellucidar was it to break through into the bottom of one of her great island seas, or among some savage race far, far from the land of his heart's desire? does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad sahara, at the end of two tiny wires, hidden beneath a lost cairn? i wonder. a journey into the interior of the earth by jules verne [redactor's note: the following version of jules verne's "journey into the interior of the earth" was published by ward, lock, &co., ltd., london, in . this version is believed to be the most faithful rendition into english of this classic currently in the public domain. the few notes of the translator are located near the point where they are referenced. the runic characters in chapter iii are visible in the html version of the text. the character set is iso- - , mainly the windows character set. the translation is by frederick amadeus malleson. while the translation is fairly literal, and malleson (a clergyman) has taken pains with the scientific portions of the work and added the chapter headings, he has made some unfortunate emendations mainly concerning biblical references, and has added a few 'improvements' of his own, which are detailed below: iii. "_pertubata seu inordinata,_" as euclid has it." xxx. cry, "thalatta! thalatta!" the sea! the sea! the deeply indented shore was lined with a breadth of fine shining sand, softly xxxii. hippopotamus. {as if the creator, pressed for time in the first hours of the world, had assembled several animals into one.} the colossal mastodon xxxii. i return to the scriptural periods or ages of the world, conventionally called 'days,' long before the appearance of man when the unfinished world was as yet unfitted for his support. {i return to the biblical epochs of the creation, well in advance of the birth of man, when the incomplete earth was not yet sufficient for him.} xxxviii. (footnote), and which is illustrated in the negro countenance and in the lowest savages. xxxix. of the geologic period. {antediluvian} (these corrections have kindly been pointed out by christian sánchez <chvsanchez@arnet.com.ar> of the jules verne forum.)] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- a journey into the interior of the earth by jules verne ---------------------------------------------------------------------- preface the "voyages extraordinaires" of m. jules verne deserve to be made widely known in english-speaking countries by means of carefully prepared translations. witty and ingenious adaptations of the researches and discoveries of modern science to the popular taste, which demands that these should be presented to ordinary readers in the lighter form of cleverly mingled truth and fiction, these books will assuredly be read with profit and delight, especially by english youth. certainly no writer before m. jules verne has been so happy in weaving together in judicious combination severe scientific truth with a charming exercise of playful imagination. iceland, the starting point of the marvellous underground journey imagined in this volume, is invested at the present time with a painful interest in consequence of the disastrous eruptions last easter day, which covered with lava and ashes the poor and scanty vegetation upon which four thousand persons were partly dependent for the means of subsistence. for a long time to come the natives of that interesting island, who cleave to their desert home with all that _amor patriae_ which is so much more easily understood than explained, will look, and look not in vain, for the help of those on whom fall the smiles of a kindlier sun in regions not torn by earthquakes nor blasted and ravaged by volcanic fires. will the readers of this little book, who, are gifted with the means of indulging in the luxury of extended beneficence, remember the distress of their brethren in the far north, whom distance has not barred from the claim of being counted our "neighbours"? and whatever their humane feelings may prompt them to bestow will be gladly added to the mansion-house iceland relief fund. in his desire to ascertain how far the picture of iceland, drawn in the work of jules verne is a correct one, the translator hopes in the course of a mail or two to receive a communication from a leading man of science in the island, which may furnish matter for additional information in a future edition. the scientific portion of the french original is not without a few errors, which the translator, with the kind assistance of mr. cameron of h. m. geological survey, has ventured to point out and correct. it is scarcely to be expected in a work in which the element of amusement is intended to enter more largely than that of scientific instruction, that any great degree of accuracy should be arrived at. yet the translator hopes that what trifling deviations from the text or corrections in foot notes he is responsible for, will have done a little towards the increased usefulness of the work. f. a. m. the vicarage, broughton-in-furness ---------------------------------------------------------------------- contents i the professor and his family ii a mystery to be solved at any price iii the runic writing exercises the professor iv the enemy to be starved into submission v famine, then victory, followed by dismay vi exciting discussions about an unparalleled exercise vii a woman's courage viii serious preparations for vertical descent ix iceland, but what next? x interesting conversations with icelandic savants xi a guide found to the centre of the earth xii a barren land xiii hospitality under the arctic circle xiv but arctics can be inhospitable, too xv snÆffel at last xvi boldly down the crater xvii vertical descent xviii the wonders of terrestial depths xix geological studies in situ xx the first signs of distress xxi compassion fuses the professor's heart xxii total failure of water xxiii water discovered xxiv well said, old mole! canst thou work in the ground so fast? xxv de profundis xxvi the worst peril of all xxvii lost in the bowels of the earth xxviii the rescue in the whispering gallery xxix thalatta! thalatta! xxx a new mare internum xxxi preparations for a voyage of discovery xxxii wonders of the deep xxxiii a battle of monsters xxxiv the great geyser xxxv an electric storm xxxvi calm philosophic discussions xxxvii the liedenbrock museum of geology xxxviii the professor in his chair again xxxix forest scenery illuminated by electricity xl preparations for blasting a passage to the centre of the earth xli the great explosion and the rush down below xlii headlong speed upward through the horrors of darkness xliii shot out of a volcano at last! xliv sunny lands in the blue mediterranean xlv all's well that ends well ---------------------------------------------------------------------- a journey into the interior of the earth chapter i. the professor and his family on the th of may, , my uncle, professor liedenbrock, rushed into his little house, no. königstrasse, one of the oldest streets in the oldest portion of the city of hamburg. martha must have concluded that she was very much behindhand, for the dinner had only just been put into the oven. "well, now," said i to myself, "if that most impatient of men is hungry, what a disturbance he will make!" "m. liedenbrock so soon!" cried poor martha in great alarm, half opening the dining-room door. "yes, martha; but very likely the dinner is not half cooked, for it is not two yet. saint michael's clock has only just struck half-past one." "then why has the master come home so soon?" "perhaps he will tell us that himself." "here he is, monsieur axel; i will run and hide myself while you argue with him." and martha retreated in safety into her own dominions. i was left alone. but how was it possible for a man of my undecided turn of mind to argue successfully with so irascible a person as the professor? with this persuasion i was hurrying away to my own little retreat upstairs, when the street door creaked upon its hinges; heavy feet made the whole flight of stairs to shake; and the master of the house, passing rapidly through the dining-room, threw himself in haste into his own sanctum. but on his rapid way he had found time to fling his hazel stick into a corner, his rough broadbrim upon the table, and these few emphatic words at his nephew: "axel, follow me!" i had scarcely had time to move when the professor was again shouting after me: "what! not come yet?" and i rushed into my redoubtable master's study. otto liedenbrock had no mischief in him, i willingly allow that; but unless he very considerably changes as he grows older, at the end he will be a most original character. he was professor at the johannæum, and was delivering a series of lectures on mineralogy, in the course of every one of which he broke into a passion once or twice at least. not at all that he was over-anxious about the improvement of his class, or about the degree of attention with which they listened to him, or the success which might eventually crown his labours. such little matters of detail never troubled him much. his teaching was as the german philosophy calls it, 'subjective'; it was to benefit himself, not others. he was a learned egotist. he was a well of science, and the pulleys worked uneasily when you wanted to draw anything out of it. in a word, he was a learned miser. germany has not a few professors of this sort. to his misfortune, my uncle was not gifted with a sufficiently rapid utterance; not, to be sure, when he was talking at home, but certainly in his public delivery; this is a want much to be deplored in a speaker. the fact is, that during the course of his lectures at the johannæum, the professor often came to a complete standstill; he fought with wilful words that refused to pass his struggling lips, such words as resist and distend the cheeks, and at last break out into the unasked-for shape of a round and most unscientific oath: then his fury would gradually abate. now in mineralogy there are many half-greek and half-latin terms, very hard to articulate, and which would be most trying to a poet's measures. i don't wish to say a word against so respectable a science, far be that from me. true, in the august presence of rhombohedral crystals, retinasphaltic resins, gehlenites, fassaites, molybdenites, tungstates of manganese, and titanite of zirconium, why, the most facile of tongues may make a slip now and then. it therefore happened that this venial fault of my uncle's came to be pretty well understood in time, and an unfair advantage was taken of it; the students laid wait for him in dangerous places, and when he began to stumble, loud was the laughter, which is not in good taste, not even in germans. and if there was always a full audience to honour the liedenbrock courses, i should be sorry to conjecture how many came to make merry at my uncle's expense. nevertheless my good uncle was a man of deep learning--a fact i am most anxious to assert and reassert. sometimes he might irretrievably injure a specimen by his too great ardour in handling it; but still he united the genius of a true geologist with the keen eye of the mineralogist. armed with his hammer, his steel pointer, his magnetic needles, his blowpipe, and his bottle of nitric acid, he was a powerful man of science. he would refer any mineral to its proper place among the six hundred [ ] elementary substances now enumerated, by its fracture, its appearance, its hardness, its fusibility, its sonorousness, its smell, and its taste. the name of liedenbrock was honourably mentioned in colleges and learned societies. humphry davy, [ ] humboldt, captain sir john franklin, general sabine, never failed to call upon him on their way through hamburg. becquerel, ebelman, brewster, dumas, milne-edwards, saint-claire-deville frequently consulted him upon the most difficult problems in chemistry, a science which was indebted to him for considerable discoveries, for in there had appeared at leipzig an imposing folio by otto liedenbrock, entitled, "a treatise upon transcendental chemistry," with plates; a work, however, which failed to cover its expenses. to all these titles to honour let me add that my uncle was the curator of the museum of mineralogy formed by m. struve, the russian ambassador; a most valuable collection, the fame of which is european. such was the gentleman who addressed me in that impetuous manner. fancy a tall, spare man, of an iron constitution, and with a fair complexion which took off a good ten years from the fifty he must own to. his restless eyes were in incessant motion behind his full-sized spectacles. his long, thin nose was like a knife blade. boys have been heard to remark that that organ was magnetised and attracted iron filings. but this was merely a mischievous report; it had no attraction except for snuff, which it seemed to draw to itself in great quantities. when i have added, to complete my portrait, that my uncle walked by mathematical strides of a yard and a half, and that in walking he kept his fists firmly closed, a sure sign of an irritable temperament, i think i shall have said enough to disenchant any one who should by mistake have coveted much of his company. he lived in his own little house in königstrasse, a structure half brick and half wood, with a gable cut into steps; it looked upon one of those winding canals which intersect each other in the middle of the ancient quarter of hamburg, and which the great fire of had fortunately spared. [ ] sixty-three. (tr.) [ ] as sir humphry davy died in , the translator must be pardoned for pointing out here an anachronism, unless we are to assume that the learned professor's celebrity dawned in his earliest years. (tr.) it is true that the old house stood slightly off the perpendicular, and bulged out a little towards the street; its roof sloped a little to one side, like the cap over the left ear of a tugendbund student; its lines wanted accuracy; but after all, it stood firm, thanks to an old elm which buttressed it in front, and which often in spring sent its young sprays through the window panes. my uncle was tolerably well off for a german professor. the house was his own, and everything in it. the living contents were his god-daughter gräuben, a young virlandaise of seventeen, martha, and myself. as his nephew and an orphan, i became his laboratory assistant. i freely confess that i was exceedingly fond of geology and all its kindred sciences; the blood of a mineralogist was in my veins, and in the midst of my specimens i was always happy. in a word, a man might live happily enough in the little old house in the königstrasse, in spite of the restless impatience of its master, for although he was a little too excitable--he was very fond of me. but the man had no notion how to wait; nature herself was too slow for him. in april, after he had planted in the terra-cotta pots outside his window seedling plants of mignonette and convolvulus, he would go and give them a little pull by their leaves to make them grow faster. in dealing with such a strange individual there was nothing for it but prompt obedience. i therefore rushed after him. chapter ii. a mystery to be solved at any price that study of his was a museum, and nothing else. specimens of everything known in mineralogy lay there in their places in perfect order, and correctly named, divided into inflammable, metallic, and lithoid minerals. how well i knew all these bits of science! many a time, instead of enjoying the company of lads of my own age, i had preferred dusting these graphites, anthracites, coals, lignites, and peats! and there were bitumens, resins, organic salts, to be protected from the least grain of dust; and metals, from iron to gold, metals whose current value altogether disappeared in the presence of the republican equality of scientific specimens; and stones too, enough to rebuild entirely the house in königstrasse, even with a handsome additional room, which would have suited me admirably. but on entering this study now i thought of none of all these wonders; my uncle alone filled my thoughts. he had thrown himself into a velvet easy-chair, and was grasping between his hands a book over which he bent, pondering with intense admiration. "here's a remarkable book! what a wonderful book!" he was exclaiming. these ejaculations brought to my mind the fact that my uncle was liable to occasional fits of bibliomania; but no old book had any value in his eyes unless it had the virtue of being nowhere else to be found, or, at any rate, of being illegible. "well, now; don't you see it yet? why i have got a priceless treasure, that i found his morning, in rummaging in old hevelius's shop, the jew." "magnificent!" i replied, with a good imitation of enthusiasm. what was the good of all this fuss about an old quarto, bound in rough calf, a yellow, faded volume, with a ragged seal depending from it? but for all that there was no lull yet in the admiring exclamations of the professor. "see," he went on, both asking the questions and supplying the answers. "isn't it a beauty? yes; splendid! did you ever see such a binding? doesn't the book open easily? yes; it stops open anywhere. but does it shut equally well? yes; for the binding and the leaves are flush, all in a straight line, and no gaps or openings anywhere. and look at its back, after seven hundred years. why, bozerian, closs, or purgold might have been proud of such a binding!" while rapidly making these comments my uncle kept opening and shutting the old tome. i really could do no less than ask a question about its contents, although i did not feel the slightest interest. "and what is the title of this marvellous work?" i asked with an affected eagerness which he must have been very blind not to see through. "this work," replied my uncle, firing up with renewed enthusiasm, "this work is the heims kringla of snorre turlleson, the most famous icelandic author of the twelfth century! it is the chronicle of the norwegian princes who ruled in iceland." "indeed;" i cried, keeping up wonderfully, "of course it is a german translation?" "what!" sharply replied the professor, "a translation! what should i do with a translation? this _is_ the icelandic original, in the magnificent idiomatic vernacular, which is both rich and simple, and admits of an infinite variety of grammatical combinations and verbal modifications." "like german." i happily ventured. "yes," replied my uncle, shrugging his shoulders; "but, in addition to all this, the icelandic has three numbers like the greek, and irregular declensions of nouns proper like the latin." "ah!" said i, a little moved out of my indifference; "and is the type good?" "type! what do you mean by talking of type, wretched axel? type! do you take it for a printed book, you ignorant fool? it is a manuscript, a runic manuscript." "runic?" "yes. do you want me to explain what that is?" "of course not," i replied in the tone of an injured man. but my uncle persevered, and told me, against my will, of many things i cared nothing about. "runic characters were in use in iceland in former ages. they were invented, it is said, by odin himself. look there, and wonder, impious young man, and admire these letters, the invention of the scandinavian god!" well, well! not knowing what to say, i was going to prostrate myself before this wonderful book, a way of answering equally pleasing to gods and kings, and which has the advantage of never giving them any embarrassment, when a little incident happened to divert conversation into another channel. this was the appearance of a dirty slip of parchment, which slipped out of the volume and fell upon the floor. my uncle pounced upon this shred with incredible avidity. an old document, enclosed an immemorial time within the folds of this old book, had for him an immeasurable value. "what's this?" he cried. and he laid out upon the table a piece of parchment, five inches by three, and along which were traced certain mysterious characters. here is the exact facsimile. i think it important to let these strange signs be publicly known, for they were the means of drawing on professor liedenbrock and his nephew to undertake the most wonderful expedition of the nineteenth century. [runic glyphs occur here] the professor mused a few moments over this series of characters; then raising his spectacles he pronounced: "these are runic letters; they are exactly like those of the manuscript of snorre turlleson. but, what on earth is their meaning?" runic letters appearing to my mind to be an invention of the learned to mystify this poor world, i was not sorry to see my uncle suffering the pangs of mystification. at least, so it seemed to me, judging from his fingers, which were beginning to work with terrible energy. "it is certainly old icelandic," he muttered between his teeth. and professor liedenbrock must have known, for he was acknowledged to be quite a polyglot. not that he could speak fluently in the two thousand languages and twelve thousand dialects which are spoken on the earth, but he knew at least his share of them. so he was going, in the presence of this difficulty, to give way to all the impetuosity of his character, and i was preparing for a violent outbreak, when two o'clock struck by the little timepiece over the fireplace. at that moment our good housekeeper martha opened the study door, saying: "dinner is ready!" i am afraid he sent that soup to where it would boil away to nothing, and martha took to her heels for safety. i followed her, and hardly knowing how i got there i found myself seated in my usual place. i waited a few minutes. no professor came. never within my remembrance had he missed the important ceremonial of dinner. and yet what a good dinner it was! there was parsley soup, an omelette of ham garnished with spiced sorrel, a fillet of veal with compote of prunes; for dessert, crystallised fruit; the whole washed down with sweet moselle. all this my uncle was going to sacrifice to a bit of old parchment. as an affectionate and attentive nephew i considered it my duty to eat for him as well as for myself, which i did conscientiously. "i have never known such a thing," said martha. "m. liedenbrock is not at table!" "who could have believed it?" i said, with my mouth full. "something serious is going to happen," said the servant, shaking her head. my opinion was, that nothing more serious would happen than an awful scene when my uncle should have discovered that his dinner was devoured. i had come to the last of the fruit when a very loud voice tore me away from the pleasures of my dessert. with one spring i bounded out of the dining-room into the study. chapter iii. the runic writing exercises the professor "undoubtedly it is runic," said the professor, bending his brows; "but there is a secret in it, and i mean to discover the key." a violent gesture finished the sentence. "sit there," he added, holding out his fist towards the table. "sit there, and write." i was seated in a trice. "now i will dictate to you every letter of our alphabet which corresponds with each of these icelandic characters. we will see what that will give us. but, by st. michael, if you should dare to deceive me--" the dictation commenced. i did my best. every letter was given me one after the other, with the following remarkable result: mm.rnlls esrevel seecide sgtssmf vnteief niedrke kt,samn atrates saodrrn emtnaei nvaect rrilsa atsaar .nvcrc ieaabs ccrmi eevtvl frantv dt,iac oseibo kediii [redactor: in the original version the initial letter is an 'm' with a superscore over it. it is my supposition that this is the translator's way of writing 'mm' and i have replaced it accordingly, since our typography does not allow such a character.] when this work was ended my uncle tore the paper from me and examined it attentively for a long time. "what does it all mean?" he kept repeating mechanically. upon my honour i could not have enlightened him. besides he did not ask me, and he went on talking to himself. "this is what is called a cryptogram, or cipher," he said, "in which letters are purposely thrown in confusion, which if properly arranged would reveal their sense. only think that under this jargon there may lie concealed the clue to some great discovery!" as for me, i was of opinion that there was nothing at all, in it; though, of course, i took care not to say so. then the professor took the book and the parchment, and diligently compared them together. "these two writings are not by the same hand," he said; "the cipher is of later date than the book, an undoubted proof of which i see in a moment. the first letter is a double m, a letter which is not to be found in turlleson's book, and which was only added to the alphabet in the fourteenth century. therefore there are two hundred years between the manuscript and the document." i admitted that this was a strictly logical conclusion. "i am therefore led to imagine," continued my uncle, "that some possessor of this book wrote these mysterious letters. but who was that possessor? is his name nowhere to be found in the manuscript?" my uncle raised his spectacles, took up a strong lens, and carefully examined the blank pages of the book. on the front of the second, the title-page, he noticed a sort of stain which looked like an ink blot. but in looking at it very closely he thought he could distinguish some half-effaced letters. my uncle at once fastened upon this as the centre of interest, and he laboured at that blot, until by the help of his microscope he ended by making out the following runic characters which he read without difficulty. "arne saknussemm!" he cried in triumph. "why that is the name of another icelander, a savant of the sixteenth century, a celebrated alchemist!" i gazed at my uncle with satisfactory admiration. "those alchemists," he resumed, "avicenna, bacon, lully, paracelsus, were the real and only savants of their time. they made discoveries at which we are astonished. has not this saknussemm concealed under his cryptogram some surprising invention? it is so; it must be so!" the professor's imagination took fire at this hypothesis. "no doubt," i ventured to reply, "but what interest would he have in thus hiding so marvellous a discovery?" "why? why? how can i tell? did not galileo do the same by saturn? we shall see. i will get at the secret of this document, and i will neither sleep nor eat until i have found it out." my comment on this was a half-suppressed "oh!" "nor you either, axel," he added. "the deuce!" said i to myself; "then it is lucky i have eaten two dinners to-day!" "first of all we must find out the key to this cipher; that cannot be difficult." at these words i quickly raised my head; but my uncle went on soliloquising. "there's nothing easier. in this document there are a hundred and thirty-two letters, viz., seventy-seven consonants and fifty-five vowels. this is the proportion found in southern languages, whilst northern tongues are much richer in consonants; therefore this is in a southern language." these were very fair conclusions, i thought. "but what language is it?" here i looked for a display of learning, but i met instead with profound analysis. "this saknussemm," he went on, "was a very well-informed man; now since he was not writing in his own mother tongue, he would naturally select that which was currently adopted by the choice spirits of the sixteenth century; i mean latin. if i am mistaken, i can but try spanish, french, italian, greek, or hebrew. but the savants of the sixteenth century generally wrote in latin. i am therefore entitled to pronounce this, à priori, to be latin. it is latin." i jumped up in my chair. my latin memories rose in revolt against the notion that these barbarous words could belong to the sweet language of virgil. "yes, it is latin," my uncle went on; "but it is latin confused and in disorder; "_pertubata seu inordinata,_" as euclid has it." "very well," thought i, "if you can bring order out of that confusion, my dear uncle, you are a clever man." "let us examine carefully," said he again, taking up the leaf upon which i had written. "here is a series of one hundred and thirty-two letters in apparent disorder. there are words consisting of consonants only, as _nrrlls;_ others, on the other hand, in which vowels predominate, as for instance the fifth, _uneeief,_ or the last but one, _oseibo_. now this arrangement has evidently not been premeditated; it has arisen mathematically in obedience to the unknown law which has ruled in the succession of these letters. it appears to me a certainty that the original sentence was written in a proper manner, and afterwards distorted by a law which we have yet to discover. whoever possesses the key of this cipher will read it with fluency. what is that key? axel, have you got it?" i answered not a word, and for a very good reason. my eyes had fallen upon a charming picture, suspended against the wall, the portrait of gräuben. my uncle's ward was at that time at altona, staying with a relation, and in her absence i was very downhearted; for i may confess it to you now, the pretty virlandaise and the professor's nephew loved each other with a patience and a calmness entirely german. we had become engaged unknown to my uncle, who was too much taken up with geology to be able to enter into such feelings as ours. gräuben was a lovely blue-eyed blonde, rather given to gravity and seriousness; but that did not prevent her from loving me very sincerely. as for me, i adored her, if there is such a word in the german language. thus it happened that the picture of my pretty virlandaise threw me in a moment out of the world of realities into that of memory and fancy. there looked down upon me the faithful companion of my labours and my recreations. every day she helped me to arrange my uncle's precious specimens; she and i labelled them together. mademoiselle gräuben was an accomplished mineralogist; she could have taught a few things to a savant. she was fond of investigating abstruse scientific questions. what pleasant hours we have spent in study; and how often i envied the very stones which she handled with her charming fingers. then, when our leisure hours came, we used to go out together and turn into the shady avenues by the alster, and went happily side by side up to the old windmill, which forms such an improvement to the landscape at the head of the lake. on the road we chatted hand in hand; i told her amusing tales at which she laughed heartily. then we reached the banks of the elbe, and after having bid good-bye to the swan, sailing gracefully amidst the white water lilies, we returned to the quay by the steamer. that is just where i was in my dream, when my uncle with a vehement thump on the table dragged me back to the realities of life. "come," said he, "the very first idea which would come into any one's head to confuse the letters of a sentence would be to write the words vertically instead of horizontally." "indeed!" said i. "now we must see what would be the effect of that, axel; put down upon this paper any sentence you like, only instead of arranging the letters in the usual way, one after the other, place them in succession in vertical columns, so as to group them together in five or six vertical lines." i caught his meaning, and immediately produced the following literary wonder: i y l o a u l o l w r b o u , n g e v w m d r n e e y e a ! "good," said the professor, without reading them, "now set down those words in a horizontal line." i obeyed, and with this result: iyloau lolwrb ou,nge vwmdrn eeyea! "excellent!" said my uncle, taking the paper hastily out of my hands. "this begins to look just like an ancient document: the vowels and the consonants are grouped together in equal disorder; there are even capitals in the middle of words, and commas too, just as in saknussemm's parchment." i considered these remarks very clever. "now," said my uncle, looking straight at me, "to read the sentence which you have just written, and with which i am wholly unacquainted, i shall only have to take the first letter of each word, then the second, the third, and so forth." and my uncle, to his great astonishment, and my much greater, read: "i love you well, my own dear gräuben!" "hallo!" cried the professor. yes, indeed, without knowing what i was about, like an awkward and unlucky lover, i had compromised myself by writing this unfortunate sentence. "aha! you are in love with gräuben?" he said, with the right look for a guardian. "yes; no!" i stammered. "you love gräuben," he went on once or twice dreamily. "well, let us apply the process i have suggested to the document in question." my uncle, falling back into his absorbing contemplations, had already forgotten my imprudent words. i merely say imprudent, for the great mind of so learned a man of course had no place for love affairs, and happily the grand business of the document gained me the victory. just as the moment of the supreme experiment arrived the professor's eyes flashed right through his spectacles. there was a quivering in his fingers as he grasped the old parchment. he was deeply moved. at last he gave a preliminary cough, and with profound gravity, naming in succession the first, then the second letter of each word, he dictated me the following: mmessvnkasenra.icefdok.segnittamvrtn ecertserrette,rotaisadva,ednecsedsadne lacartniiilvisiratracsarbmvtabiledmek meretarcsilvcoisleffensni. i confess i felt considerably excited in coming to the end; these letters named, one at a time, had carried no sense to my mind; i therefore waited for the professor with great pomp to unfold the magnificent but hidden latin of this mysterious phrase. but who could have foretold the result? a violent thump made the furniture rattle, and spilt some ink, and my pen dropped from between my fingers. "that's not it," cried my uncle, "there's no sense in it." then darting out like a shot, bowling down stairs like an avalanche, he rushed into the königstrasse and fled. chapter iv. the enemy to be starved into submission "he is gone!" cried martha, running out of her kitchen at the noise of the violent slamming of doors. "yes," i replied, "completely gone." "well; and how about his dinner?" said the old servant. "he won't have any." "and his supper?" "he won't have any." "what?" cried martha, with clasped hands. "no, my dear martha, he will eat no more. no one in the house is to eat anything at all. uncle liedenbrock is going to make us all fast until he has succeeded in deciphering an undecipherable scrawl." "oh, my dear! must we then all die of hunger?" i hardly dared to confess that, with so absolute a ruler as my uncle, this fate was inevitable. the old servant, visibly moved, returned to the kitchen, moaning piteously. when i was alone, i thought i would go and tell gräuben all about it. but how should i be able to escape from the house? the professor might return at any moment. and suppose he called me? and suppose he tackled me again with this logomachy, which might vainly have been set before ancient oedipus. and if i did not obey his call, who could answer for what might happen? the wisest course was to remain where i was. a mineralogist at besançon had just sent us a collection of siliceous nodules, which i had to classify: so i set to work; i sorted, labelled, and arranged in their own glass case all these hollow specimens, in the cavity of each of which was a nest of little crystals. but this work did not succeed in absorbing all my attention. that old document kept working in my brain. my head throbbed with excitement, and i felt an undefined uneasiness. i was possessed with a presentiment of coming evil. in an hour my nodules were all arranged upon successive shelves. then i dropped down into the old velvet armchair, my head thrown back and my hands joined over it. i lighted my long crooked pipe, with a painting on it of an idle-looking naiad; then i amused myself watching the process of the conversion of the tobacco into carbon, which was by slow degrees making my naiad into a negress. now and then i listened to hear whether a well-known step was on the stairs. no. where could my uncle be at that moment? i fancied him running under the noble trees which line the road to altona, gesticulating, making shots with his cane, thrashing the long grass, cutting the heads off the thistles, and disturbing the contemplative storks in their peaceful solitude. would he return in triumph or in discouragement? which would get the upper hand, he or the secret? i was thus asking myself questions, and mechanically taking between my fingers the sheet of paper mysteriously disfigured with the incomprehensible succession of letters i had written down; and i repeated to myself "what does it all mean?" i sought to group the letters so as to form words. quite impossible! when i put them together by twos, threes, fives or sixes, nothing came of it but nonsense. to be sure the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth letters made the english word 'ice'; the eighty-third and two following made 'sir'; and in the midst of the document, in the second and third lines, i observed the words, "rots," "mutabile," "ira," "net," "atra." "come now," i thought, "these words seem to justify my uncle's view about the language of the document. in the fourth line appeared the word "luco", which means a sacred wood. it is true that in the third line was the word "tabiled", which looked like hebrew, and in the last the purely french words "mer", "arc", "mere."" all this was enough to drive a poor fellow crazy. four different languages in this ridiculous sentence! what connection could there possibly be between such words as ice, sir, anger, cruel, sacred wood, changeable, mother, bow, and sea? the first and the last might have something to do with each other; it was not at all surprising that in a document written in iceland there should be mention of a sea of ice; but it was quite another thing to get to the end of this cryptogram with so small a clue. so i was struggling with an insurmountable difficulty; my brain got heated, my eyes watered over that sheet of paper; its hundred and thirty-two letters seemed to flutter and fly around me like those motes of mingled light and darkness which float in the air around the head when the blood is rushing upwards with undue violence. i was a prey to a kind of hallucination; i was stifling; i wanted air. unconsciously i fanned myself with the bit of paper, the back and front of which successively came before my eyes. what was my surprise when, in one of those rapid revolutions, at the moment when the back was turned to me i thought i caught sight of the latin words "craterem," "terrestre," and others. a sudden light burst in upon me; these hints alone gave me the first glimpse of the truth; i had discovered the key to the cipher. to read the document, it would not even be necessary to read it through the paper. such as it was, just such as it had been dictated to me, so it might be spelt out with ease. all those ingenious professorial combinations were coming right. he was right as to the arrangement of the letters; he was right as to the language. he had been within a hair's breadth of reading this latin document from end to end; but that hair's breadth, chance had given it to me! you may be sure i felt stirred up. my eyes were dim, i could scarcely see. i had laid the paper upon the table. at a glance i could tell the whole secret. at last i became more calm. i made a wise resolve to walk twice round the room quietly and settle my nerves, and then i returned into the deep gulf of the huge armchair. "now i'll read it," i cried, after having well distended my lungs with air. i leaned over the table; i laid my finger successively upon every letter; and without a pause, without one moment's hesitation, i read off the whole sentence aloud. stupefaction! terror! i sat overwhelmed as if with a sudden deadly blow. what! that which i read had actually, really been done! a mortal man had had the audacity to penetrate! . . . "ah!" i cried, springing up. "but no! no! my uncle shall never know it. he would insist upon doing it too. he would want to know all about it. ropes could not hold him, such a determined geologist as he is! he would start, he would, in spite of everything and everybody, and he would take me with him, and we should never get back. no, never! never!" my over-excitement was beyond all description. "no! no! it shall not be," i declared energetically; "and as it is in my power to prevent the knowledge of it coming into the mind of my tyrant, i will do it. by dint of turning this document round and round, he too might discover the key. i will destroy it." there was a little fire left on the hearth. i seized not only the paper but saknussemm's parchment; with a feverish hand i was about to fling it all upon the coals and utterly destroy and abolish this dangerous secret, when the study door opened, and my uncle appeared. chapter v. famine, then victory, followed by dismay i had only just time to replace the unfortunate document upon the table. professor liedenbrock seemed to be greatly abstracted. the ruling thought gave him no rest. evidently he had gone deeply into the matter, analytically and with profound scrutiny. he had brought all the resources of his mind to bear upon it during his walk, and he had come back to apply some new combination. he sat in his armchair, and pen in hand he began what looked very much like algebraic formula: i followed with my eyes his trembling hands, i took count of every movement. might not some unhoped-for result come of it? i trembled, too, very unnecessarily, since the true key was in my hands, and no other would open the secret. for three long hours my uncle worked on without a word, without lifting his head; rubbing out, beginning again, then rubbing out again, and so on a hundred times. i knew very well that if he succeeded in setting down these letters in every possible relative position, the sentence would come out. but i knew also that twenty letters alone could form two quintillions, four hundred and thirty-two quadrillions, nine hundred and two trillions, eight billions, a hundred and seventy-six millions, six hundred and forty thousand combinations. now, here were a hundred and thirty-two letters in this sentence, and these hundred and thirty-two letters would give a number of different sentences, each made up of at least a hundred and thirty-three figures, a number which passed far beyond all calculation or conception. so i felt reassured as far as regarded this heroic method of solving the difficulty. but time was passing away; night came on; the street noises ceased; my uncle, bending over his task, noticed nothing, not even martha half opening the door; he heard not a sound, not even that excellent woman saying: "will not monsieur take any supper to-night?" and poor martha had to go away unanswered. as for me, after long resistance, i was overcome by sleep, and fell off at the end of the sofa, while uncle liedenbrock went on calculating and rubbing out his calculations. when i awoke next morning that indefatigable worker was still at his post. his red eyes, his pale complexion, his hair tangled between his feverish fingers, the red spots on his cheeks, revealed his desperate struggle with impossibilities, and the weariness of spirit, the mental wrestlings he must have undergone all through that unhappy night. to tell the plain truth, i pitied him. in spite of the reproaches which i considered i had a right to lay upon him, a certain feeling of compassion was beginning to gain upon me. the poor man was so entirely taken up with his one idea that he had even forgotten how to get angry. all the strength of his feelings was concentrated upon one point alone; and as their usual vent was closed, it was to be feared lest extreme tension should give rise to an explosion sooner or later. i might with a word have loosened the screw of the steel vice that was crushing his brain; but that word i would not speak. yet i was not an ill-natured fellow. why was i dumb at such a crisis? why so insensible to my uncle's interests? "no, no," i repeated, "i shall not speak. he would insist upon going; nothing on earth could stop him. his imagination is a volcano, and to do that which other geologists have never done he would risk his life. i will preserve silence. i will keep the secret which mere chance has revealed to me. to discover it, would be to kill professor liedenbrock! let him find it out himself if he can. i will never have it laid to my door that i led him to his destruction." having formed this resolution, i folded my arms and waited. but i had not reckoned upon one little incident which turned up a few hours after. when our good martha wanted to go to market, she found the door locked. the big key was gone. who could have taken it out? assuredly, it was my uncle, when he returned the night before from his hurried walk. was this done on purpose? or was it a mistake? did he want to reduce us by famine? this seemed like going rather too far! what! should martha and i be victims of a position of things in which we had not the smallest interest? it was a fact that a few years before this, whilst my uncle was working at his great classification of minerals, he was forty-eight hours without eating, and all his household were obliged to share in this scientific fast. as for me, what i remember is, that i got severe cramps in my stomach, which hardly suited the constitution of a hungry, growing lad. now it appeared to me as if breakfast was going to be wanting, just as supper had been the night before. yet i resolved to be a hero, and not to be conquered by the pangs of hunger. martha took it very seriously, and, poor woman, was very much distressed. as for me, the impossibility of leaving the house distressed me a good deal more, and for a very good reason. a caged lover's feelings may easily be imagined. my uncle went on working, his imagination went off rambling into the ideal world of combinations; he was far away from earth, and really far away from earthly wants. about noon hunger began to stimulate me severely. martha had, without thinking any harm, cleared out the larder the night before, so that now there was nothing left in the house. still i held out; i made it a point of honour. two o'clock struck. this was becoming ridiculous; worse than that, unbearable. i began to say to myself that i was exaggerating the importance of the document; that my uncle would surely not believe in it, that he would set it down as a mere puzzle; that if it came to the worst, we should lay violent hands on him and keep him at home if he thought on venturing on the expedition; that, after all, he might himself discover the key of the cipher, and that then i should be clear at the mere expense of my involuntary abstinence. these reasons seemed excellent to me, though on the night before i should have rejected them with indignation; i even went so far as to condemn myself for my absurdity in having waited so long, and i finally resolved to let it all out. i was therefore meditating a proper introduction to the matter, so as not to seem too abrupt, when the professor jumped up, clapped on his hat, and prepared to go out. surely he was not going out, to shut us in again! no, never! "uncle!" i cried. he seemed not to hear me. "uncle liedenbrock!" i cried, lifting up my voice. "ay," he answered like a man suddenly waking. "uncle, that key!" "what key? the door key?" "no, no!" i cried. "the key of the document." the professor stared at me over his spectacles; no doubt he saw something unusual in the expression of my countenance; for he laid hold of my arm, and speechlessly questioned me with his eyes. yes, never was a question more forcibly put. i nodded my head up and down. he shook his pityingly, as if he was dealing with a lunatic. i gave a more affirmative gesture. his eyes glistened and sparkled with live fire, his hand was shaken threateningly. this mute conversation at such a momentous crisis would have riveted the attention of the most indifferent. and the fact really was that i dared not speak now, so intense was the excitement for fear lest my uncle should smother me in his first joyful embraces. but he became so urgent that i was at last compelled to answer. "yes, that key, chance--" "what is that you are saying?" he shouted with indescribable emotion. "there, read that!" i said, presenting a sheet of paper on which i had written. "but there is nothing in this," he answered, crumpling up the paper. "no, nothing until you proceed to read from the end to the beginning." i had not finished my sentence when the professor broke out into a cry, nay, a roar. a new revelation burst in upon him. he was transformed! "aha, clever saknussemm!" he cried. "you had first written out your sentence the wrong way." and darting upon the paper, with eyes bedimmed, and voice choked with emotion, he read the whole document from the last letter to the first. it was conceived in the following terms: in sneffels joculis craterem quem delibat umbra scartaris julii intra calendas descende, audax viator, et terrestre centrum attinges. quod feci, arne saknussemm.[ ] which bad latin may be translated thus: "descend, bold traveller, into the crater of the jokul of sneffels, which the shadow of scartaris touches before the kalends of july, and you will attain the centre of the earth; which i have done, arne saknussemm." in reading this, my uncle gave a spring as if he had touched a leyden jar. his audacity, his joy, and his convictions were magnificent to behold. he came and he went; he seized his head between both his hands; he pushed the chairs out of their places, he piled up his books; incredible as it may seem, he rattled his precious nodules of flints together; he sent a kick here, a thump there. at last his nerves calmed down, and like a man exhausted by too lavish an expenditure of vital power, he sank back exhausted into his armchair. "what o'clock is it?" he asked after a few moments of silence. "three o'clock," i replied. "is it really? the dinner-hour is past, and i did not know it. i am half dead with hunger. come on, and after dinner--" [ ] in the cipher, _audax_ is written _avdas,_ and _quod_ and _quem,_ _hod_ and _ken_. (tr.) "well?" "after dinner, pack up my trunk." "what?" i cried. "and yours!" replied the indefatigable professor, entering the dining-room. chapter vi. exciting discussions about an unparalleled enterprise at these words a cold shiver ran through me. yet i controlled myself; i even resolved to put a good face upon it. scientific arguments alone could have any weight with professor liedenbrock. now there were good ones against the practicability of such a journey. penetrate to the centre of the earth! what nonsense! but i kept my dialectic battery in reserve for a suitable opportunity, and i interested myself in the prospect of my dinner, which was not yet forthcoming. it is no use to tell of the rage and imprecations of my uncle before the empty table. explanations were given, martha was set at liberty, ran off to the market, and did her part so well that in an hour afterwards my hunger was appeased, and i was able to return to the contemplation of the gravity of the situation. during all dinner time my uncle was almost merry; he indulged in some of those learned jokes which never do anybody any harm. dessert over, he beckoned me into his study. i obeyed; he sat at one end of his table, i at the other. "axel," said he very mildly; "you are a very ingenious young man, you have done me a splendid service, at a moment when, wearied out with the struggle, i was going to abandon the contest. where should i have lost myself? none can tell. never, my lad, shall i forget it; and you shall have your share in the glory to which your discovery will lead." "oh, come!" thought i, "he is in a good way. now is the time for discussing that same glory." "before all things," my uncle resumed, "i enjoin you to preserve the most inviolable secrecy: you understand? there are not a few in the scientific world who envy my success, and many would be ready to undertake this enterprise, to whom our return should be the first news of it." "do you really think there are many people bold enough?" said i. "certainly; who would hesitate to acquire such renown? if that document were divulged, a whole army of geologists would be ready to rush into the footsteps of arne saknussemm." "i don't feel so very sure of that, uncle," i replied; "for we have no proof of the authenticity of this document." "what! not of the book, inside which we have discovered it?" "granted. i admit that saknussemm may have written these lines. but does it follow that he has really accomplished such a journey? and may it not be that this old parchment is intended to mislead?" i almost regretted having uttered this last word, which dropped from me in an unguarded moment. the professor bent his shaggy brows, and i feared i had seriously compromised my own safety. happily no great harm came of it. a smile flitted across the lip of my severe companion, and he answered: "that is what we shall see." "ah!" said i, rather put out. "but do let me exhaust all the possible objections against this document." "speak, my boy, don't be afraid. you are quite at liberty to express your opinions. you are no longer my nephew only, but my colleague. pray go on." "well, in the first place, i wish to ask what are this jokul, this sneffels, and this scartaris, names which i have never heard before?" "nothing easier. i received not long ago a map from my friend, augustus petermann, at liepzig. nothing could be more apropos. take down the third atlas in the second shelf in the large bookcase, series z, plate ." i rose, and with the help of such precise instructions could not fail to find the required atlas. my uncle opened it and said: "here is one of the best maps of iceland, that of handersen, and i believe this will solve the worst of our difficulties." i bent over the map. "you see this volcanic island," said the professor; "observe that all the volcanoes are called jokuls, a word which means glacier in icelandic, and under the high latitude of iceland nearly all the active volcanoes discharge through beds of ice. hence this term of jokul is applied to all the eruptive mountains in iceland." "very good," said i; "but what of sneffels?" i was hoping that this question would be unanswerable; but i was mistaken. my uncle replied: "follow my finger along the west coast of iceland. do you see rejkiavik, the capital? you do. well; ascend the innumerable fiords that indent those sea-beaten shores, and stop at the sixty-fifth degree of latitude. what do you see there?" "i see a peninsula looking like a thigh bone with the knee bone at the end of it." "a very fair comparison, my lad. now do you see anything upon that knee bone?" "yes; a mountain rising out of the sea." "right. that is snæfell." "that snæfell?" "it is. it is a mountain five thousand feet high, one of the most remarkable in the world, if its crater leads down to the centre of the earth." "but that is impossible," i said shrugging my shoulders, and disgusted at such a ridiculous supposition. "impossible?" said the professor severely; "and why, pray?" "because this crater is evidently filled with lava and burning rocks, and therefore--" "but suppose it is an extinct volcano?" "extinct?" "yes; the number of active volcanoes on the surface of the globe is at the present time only about three hundred. but there is a very much larger number of extinct ones. now, snæfell is one of these. since historic times there has been but one eruption of this mountain, that of ; from that time it has quieted down more and more, and now it is no longer reckoned among active volcanoes." to such positive statements i could make no reply. i therefore took refuge in other dark passages of the document. "what is the meaning of this word scartaris, and what have the kalends of july to do with it?" my uncle took a few minutes to consider. for one short moment i felt a ray of hope, speedily to be extinguished. for he soon answered thus: "what is darkness to you is light to me. this proves the ingenious care with which saknussemm guarded and defined his discovery. sneffels, or snæfell, has several craters. it was therefore necessary to point out which of these leads to the centre of the globe. what did the icelandic sage do? he observed that at the approach of the kalends of july, that is to say in the last days of june, one of the peaks, called scartaris, flung its shadow down the mouth of that particular crater, and he committed that fact to his document. could there possibly have been a more exact guide? as soon as we have arrived at the summit of snæfell we shall have no hesitation as to the proper road to take." decidedly, my uncle had answered every one of my objections. i saw that his position on the old parchment was impregnable. i therefore ceased to press him upon that part of the subject, and as above all things he must be convinced, i passed on to scientific objections, which in my opinion were far more serious. "well, then," i said, "i am forced to admit that saknussemm's sentence is clear, and leaves no room for doubt. i will even allow that the document bears every mark and evidence of authenticity. that learned philosopher did get to the bottom of sneffels, he has seen the shadow of scartaris touch the edge of the crater before the kalends of july; he may even have heard the legendary stories told in his day about that crater reaching to the centre of the world; but as for reaching it himself, as for performing the journey, and returning, if he ever went, i say no--he never, never did that." "now for your reason?" said my uncle ironically. "all the theories of science demonstrate such a feat to be impracticable." "the theories say that, do they?" replied the professor in the tone of a meek disciple. "oh! unpleasant theories! how the theories will hinder us, won't they?" i saw that he was only laughing at me; but i went on all the same. "yes; it is perfectly well known that the internal temperature rises one degree for every feet in depth; now, admitting this proportion to be constant, and the radius of the earth being fifteen hundred leagues, there must be a temperature of , degrees at the centre of the earth. therefore, all the substances that compose the body of this earth must exist there in a state of incandescent gas; for the metals that most resist the action of heat, gold, and platinum, and the hardest rocks, can never be either solid or liquid under such a temperature. i have therefore good reason for asking if it is possible to penetrate through such a medium." "so, axel, it is the heat that troubles you?" "of course it is. were we to reach a depth of thirty miles we should have arrived at the limit of the terrestrial crust, for there the temperature will be more than degrees." "are you afraid of being put into a state of fusion?" "i will leave you to decide that question," i answered rather sullenly. "this is my decision," replied professor liedenbrock, putting on one of his grandest airs. "neither you nor anybody else knows with any certainty what is going on in the interior of this globe, since not the twelve thousandth part of its radius is known; science is eminently perfectible; and every new theory is soon routed by a newer. was it not always believed until fourier that the temperature of the interplanetary spaces decreased perpetually? and is it not known at the present time that the greatest cold of the ethereal regions is never lower than degrees below zero fahr.? why should it not be the same with the internal heat? why should it not, at a certain depth, attain an impassable limit, instead of rising to such a point as to fuse the most infusible metals?" as my uncle was now taking his stand upon hypotheses, of course, there was nothing to be said. "well, i will tell you that true savants, amongst them poisson, have demonstrated that if a heat of , degrees [ ] existed in the interior of the globe, the fiery gases arising from the fused matter would acquire an elastic force which the crust of the earth would be unable to resist, and that it would explode like the plates of a bursting boiler." "that is poisson's opinion, my uncle, nothing more." "granted. but it is likewise the creed adopted by other distinguished geologists, that the interior of the globe is neither gas nor water, nor any of the heaviest minerals known, for in none of these cases would the earth weigh what it does." "oh, with figures you may prove anything!" "but is it the same with facts! is it not known that the number of volcanoes has diminished since the first days of creation? and if there is central heat may we not thence conclude that it is in process of diminution?" "my good uncle, if you will enter into the legion of speculation, i can discuss the matter no longer." "but i have to tell you that the highest names have come to the support of my views. do you remember a visit paid to me by the celebrated chemist, humphry davy, in ?" "not at all, for i was not born until nineteen years afterwards." "well, humphry davy did call upon me on his way through hamburg. we were long engaged in discussing, amongst other problems, the hypothesis of the liquid structure of the terrestrial nucleus. we were agreed that it could not be in a liquid state, for a reason which science has never been able to confute." [ ] the degrees of temperature are given by jules verne according to the centigrade system, for which we will in each case substitute the fahrenheit measurement. (tr.) "what is that reason?" i said, rather astonished. "because this liquid mass would be subject, like the ocean, to the lunar attraction, and therefore twice every day there would be internal tides, which, upheaving the terrestrial crust, would cause periodical earthquakes!" "yet it is evident that the surface of the globe has been subject to the action of fire," i replied, "and it is quite reasonable to suppose that the external crust cooled down first, whilst the heat took refuge down to the centre." "quite a mistake," my uncle answered. "the earth has been heated by combustion on its surface, that is all. its surface was composed of a great number of metals, such as potassium and sodium, which have the peculiar property of igniting at the mere contact with air and water; these metals kindled when the atmospheric vapours fell in rain upon the soil; and by and by, when the waters penetrated into the fissures of the crust of the earth, they broke out into fresh combustion with explosions and eruptions. such was the cause of the numerous volcanoes at the origin of the earth." "upon my word, this is a very clever hypothesis," i exclaimed, in spite rather of myself. "and which humphry davy demonstrated to me by a simple experiment. he formed a small ball of the metals which i have named, and which was a very fair representation of our globe; whenever he caused a fine dew of rain to fall upon its surface, it heaved up into little monticules, it became oxydized and formed miniature mountains; a crater broke open at one of its summits; the eruption took place, and communicated to the whole of the ball such a heat that it could not be held in the hand." in truth, i was beginning to be shaken by the professor's arguments, besides which he gave additional weight to them by his usual ardour and fervent enthusiasm. "you see, axel," he added, "the condition of the terrestrial nucleus has given rise to various hypotheses among geologists; there is no proof at all for this internal heat; my opinion is that there is no such thing, it cannot be; besides we shall see for ourselves, and, like arne saknussemm, we shall know exactly what to hold as truth concerning this grand question." "very well, we shall see," i replied, feeling myself carried off by his contagious enthusiasm. "yes, we shall see; that is, if it is possible to see anything there." "and why not? may we not depend upon electric phenomena to give us light? may we not even expect light from the atmosphere, the pressure of which may render it luminous as we approach the centre?" "yes, yes," said i; "that is possible, too." "it is certain," exclaimed my uncle in a tone of triumph. "but silence, do you hear me? silence upon the whole subject; and let no one get before us in this design of discovering the centre of the earth." chapter vii. a woman's courage thus ended this memorable seance. that conversation threw me into a fever. i came out of my uncle's study as if i had been stunned, and as if there was not air enough in all the streets of hamburg to put me right again. i therefore made for the banks of the elbe, where the steamer lands her passengers, which forms the communication between the city and the hamburg railway. was i convinced of the truth of what i had heard? had i not bent under the iron rule of the professor liedenbrock? was i to believe him in earnest in his intention to penetrate to the centre of this massive globe? had i been listening to the mad speculations of a lunatic, or to the scientific conclusions of a lofty genius? where did truth stop? where did error begin? i was all adrift amongst a thousand contradictory hypotheses, but i could not lay hold of one. yet i remembered that i had been convinced, although now my enthusiasm was beginning to cool down; but i felt a desire to start at once, and not to lose time and courage by calm reflection. i had at that moment quite courage enough to strap my knapsack to my shoulders and start. but i must confess that in another hour this unnatural excitement abated, my nerves became unstrung, and from the depths of the abysses of this earth i ascended to its surface again. "it is quite absurd!" i cried, "there is no sense about it. no sensible young man should for a moment entertain such a proposal. the whole thing is non-existent. i have had a bad night, i have been dreaming of horrors." but i had followed the banks of the elbe and passed the town. after passing the port too, i had reached the altona road. i was led by a presentiment, soon to be realised; for shortly i espied my little gräuben bravely returning with her light step to hamburg. "gräuben!" i cried from afar off. the young girl stopped, rather frightened perhaps to hear her name called after her on the high road. ten yards more, and i had joined her. "axel!" she cried surprised. "what! have you come to meet me? is this why you are here, sir?" but when she had looked upon me, gräuben could not fail to see the uneasiness and distress of my mind. "what is the matter?" she said, holding out her hand. "what is the matter, gräuben?" i cried. in a couple of minutes my pretty virlandaise was fully informed of the position of affairs. for a time she was silent. did her heart palpitate as mine did? i don't know about that, but i know that her hand did not tremble in mine. we went on a hundred yards without speaking. at last she said, "axel!" "my dear gräuben." "that will be a splendid journey!" i gave a bound at these words. "yes, axel, a journey worthy of the nephew of a savant; it is a good thing for a man to be distinguished by some great enterprise." "what, gräuben, won't you dissuade me from such an undertaking?" "no, my dear axel, and i would willingly go with you, but that a poor girl would only be in your way." "is that quite true?" "it is true." ah! women and young girls, how incomprehensible are your feminine hearts! when you are not the timidest, you are the bravest of creatures. reason has nothing to do with your actions. what! did this child encourage me in such an expedition! would she not be afraid to join it herself? and she was driving me to it, one whom she loved! i was disconcerted, and, if i must tell the whole truth, i was ashamed. "gräuben, we will see whether you will say the same thing to-morrow." "to-morrow, dear axel, i will say what i say to-day." gräuben and i, hand in hand, but in silence, pursued our way. the emotions of that day were breaking my heart. after all, i thought, the kalends of july are a long way off, and between this and then many things may take place which will cure my uncle of his desire to travel underground. it was night when we arrived at the house in königstrasse. i expected to find all quiet there, my uncle in bed as was his custom, and martha giving her last touches with the feather brush. but i had not taken into account the professor's impatience. i found him shouting--and working himself up amidst a crowd of porters and messengers who were all depositing various loads in the passage. our old servant was at her wits' end. "come, axel, come, you miserable wretch," my uncle cried from as far off as he could see me. "your boxes are not packed, and my papers are not arranged; where's the key of my carpet bag? and what have you done with my gaiters?" i stood thunderstruck. my voice failed. scarcely could my lips utter the words: "are we really going?" "of course, you unhappy boy! could i have dreamed that you would have gone out for a walk instead of hurrying your preparations forward?" "are we to go?" i asked again, with sinking hopes. "yes; the day after to-morrow, early." i could hear no more. i fled for refuge into my own little room. all hope was now at an end. my uncle had been all the morning making purchases of a part of the tools and apparatus required for this desperate undertaking. the passage was encumbered with rope ladders, knotted cords, torches, flasks, grappling irons, alpenstocks, pickaxes, iron shod sticks, enough to load ten men. i spent an awful night. next morning i was called early. i had quite decided i would not open the door. but how was i to resist the sweet voice which was always music to my ears, saying, "my dear axel?" i came out of my room. i thought my pale countenance and my red and sleepless eyes would work upon gräuben's sympathies and change her mind. "ah! my dear axel," she said. "i see you are better. a night's rest has done you good." "done me good!" i exclaimed. i rushed to the glass. well, in fact i did look better than i had expected. i could hardly believe my own eyes. "axel," she said, "i have had a long talk with my guardian. he is a bold philosopher, a man of immense courage, and you must remember that his blood flows in your veins. he has confided to me his plans, his hopes, and why and how he hopes to attain his object. he will no doubt succeed. my dear axel, it is a grand thing to devote yourself to science! what honour will fall upon herr liedenbrock, and so be reflected upon his companion! when you return, axel, you will be a man, his equal, free to speak and to act independently, and free to --" the dear girl only finished this sentence by blushing. her words revived me. yet i refused to believe we should start. i drew gräuben into the professor's study. "uncle, is it true that we are to go?" "why do you doubt?" "well, i don't doubt," i said, not to vex him; "but, i ask, what need is there to hurry?" "time, time, flying with irreparable rapidity." "but it is only the th may, and until the end of june--" "what, you monument of ignorance! do you think you can get to iceland in a couple of days? if you had not deserted me like a fool i should have taken you to the copenhagen office, to liffender & co., and you would have learned then that there is only one trip every month from copenhagen to rejkiavik, on the nd." "well?" "well, if we waited for the nd june we should be too late to see the shadow of scartaris touch the crater of sneffels. therefore we must get to copenhagen as fast as we can to secure our passage. go and pack up." there was no reply to this. i went up to my room. gräuben followed me. she undertook to pack up all things necessary for my voyage. she was no more moved than if i had been starting for a little trip to lübeck or heligoland. her little hands moved without haste. she talked quietly. she supplied me with sensible reasons for our expedition. she delighted me, and yet i was angry with her. now and then i felt i ought to break out into a passion, but she took no notice and went on her way as methodically as ever. finally the last strap was buckled; i came downstairs. all that day the philosophical instrument makers and the electricians kept coming and going. martha was distracted. "is master mad?" she asked. i nodded my head. "and is he going to take you with him?" i nodded again. "where to?" i pointed with my finger downward. "down into the cellar?" cried the old servant. "no," i said. "lower down than that." night came. but i knew nothing about the lapse of time. "to-morrow morning at six precisely," my uncle decreed "we start." at ten o'clock i fell upon my bed, a dead lump of inert matter. all through the night terror had hold of me. i spent it dreaming of abysses. i was a prey to delirium. i felt myself grasped by the professor's sinewy hand, dragged along, hurled down, shattered into little bits. i dropped down unfathomable precipices with the accelerating velocity of bodies falling through space. my life had become an endless fall. i awoke at five with shattered nerves, trembling and weary. i came downstairs. my uncle was at table, devouring his breakfast. i stared at him with horror and disgust. but dear gräuben was there; so i said nothing, and could eat nothing. at half-past five there was a rattle of wheels outside. a large carriage was there to take us to the altona railway station. it was soon piled up with my uncle's multifarious preparations. "where's your box?" he cried. "it is ready," i replied, with faltering voice. "then make haste down, or we shall lose the train." it was now manifestly impossible to maintain the struggle against destiny. i went up again to my room, and rolling my portmanteaus downstairs i darted after him. at that moment my uncle was solemnly investing gräuben with the reins of government. my pretty virlandaise was as calm and collected as was her wont. she kissed her guardian; but could not restrain a tear in touching my cheek with her gentle lips. "gräuben!" i murmured. "go, my dear axel, go! i am now your betrothed; and when you come back i will be your wife." i pressed her in my arms and took my place in the carriage. martha and the young girl, standing at the door, waved their last farewell. then the horses, roused by the driver's whistling, darted off at a gallop on the road to altona. chapter viii. serious preparations for vertical descent altona, which is but a suburb of hamburg, is the terminus of the kiel railway, which was to carry us to the belts. in twenty minutes we were in holstein. at half-past six the carriage stopped at the station; my uncle's numerous packages, his voluminous _impedimenta,_ were unloaded, removed, labelled, weighed, put into the luggage vans, and at seven we were seated face to face in our compartment. the whistle sounded, the engine started, we were off. was i resigned? no, not yet. yet the cool morning air and the scenes on the road, rapidly changed by the swiftness of the train, drew me away somewhat from my sad reflections. as for the professor's reflections, they went far in advance of the swiftest express. we were alone in the carriage, but we sat in silence. my uncle examined all his pockets and his travelling bag with the minutest care. i saw that he had not forgotten the smallest matter of detail. amongst other documents, a sheet of paper, carefully folded, bore the heading of the danish consulate with the signature of w. christiensen, consul at hamburg and the professor's friend. with this we possessed the proper introductions to the governor of iceland. i also observed the famous document most carefully laid up in a secret pocket in his portfolio. i bestowed a malediction upon it, and then proceeded to examine the country. it was a very long succession of uninteresting loamy and fertile flats, a very easy country for the construction of railways, and propitious for the laying-down of these direct level lines so dear to railway companies. i had no time to get tired of the monotony; for in three hours we stopped at kiel, close to the sea. the luggage being labelled for copenhagen, we had no occasion to look after it. yet the professor watched every article with jealous vigilance, until all were safe on board. there they disappeared in the hold. my uncle, notwithstanding his hurry, had so well calculated the relations between the train and the steamer that we had a whole day to spare. the steamer _ellenora,_ did not start until night. thence sprang a feverish state of excitement in which the impatient irascible traveller devoted to perdition the railway directors and the steamboat companies and the governments which allowed such intolerable slowness. i was obliged to act chorus to him when he attacked the captain of the _ellenora_ upon this subject. the captain disposed of us summarily. at kiel, as elsewhere, we must do something to while away the time. what with walking on the verdant shores of the bay within which nestles the little town, exploring the thick woods which make it look like a nest embowered amongst thick foliage, admiring the villas, each provided with a little bathing house, and moving about and grumbling, at last ten o'clock came. the heavy coils of smoke from the _ellenora's_ funnel unrolled in the sky, the bridge shook with the quivering of the struggling steam; we were on board, and owners for the time of two berths, one over the other, in the only saloon cabin on board. at a quarter past the moorings were loosed and the throbbing steamer pursued her way over the dark waters of the great belt. the night was dark; there was a sharp breeze and a rough sea, a few lights appeared on shore through the thick darkness; later on, i cannot tell when, a dazzling light from some lighthouse threw a bright stream of fire along the waves; and this is all i can remember of this first portion of our sail. at seven in the morning we landed at korsor, a small town on the west coast of zealand. there we were transferred from the boat to another line of railway, which took us by just as flat a country as the plain of holstein. three hours' travelling brought us to the capital of denmark. my uncle had not shut his eyes all night. in his impatience i believe he was trying to accelerate the train with his feet. at last he discerned a stretch of sea. "the sound!" he cried. at our left was a huge building that looked like a hospital. "that's a lunatic asylum," said one of or travelling companions. very good! thought i, just the place we want to end our days in; and great as it is, that asylum is not big enough to contain all professor liedenbrock's madness! at ten in the morning, at last, we set our feet in copenhagen; the luggage was put upon a carriage and taken with ourselves to the phoenix hotel in breda gate. this took half an hour, for the station is out of the town. then my uncle, after a hasty toilet, dragged me after him. the porter at the hotel could speak german and english; but the professor, as a polyglot, questioned him in good danish, and it was in the same language that that personage directed him to the museum of northern antiquities. the curator of this curious establishment, in which wonders are gathered together out of which the ancient history of the country might be reconstructed by means of its stone weapons, its cups and its jewels, was a learned savant, the friend of the danish consul at hamburg, professor thomsen. my uncle had a cordial letter of introduction to him. as a general rule one savant greets another with coolness. but here the case was different. m. thomsen, like a good friend, gave the professor liedenbrock a cordial greeting, and he even vouchsafed the same kindness to his nephew. it is hardly necessary to say the secret was sacredly kept from the excellent curator; we were simply disinterested travellers visiting iceland out of harmless curiosity. m. thomsen placed his services at our disposal, and we visited the quays with the object of finding out the next vessel to sail. i was yet in hopes that there would be no means of getting to iceland. but there was no such luck. a small danish schooner, the _valkyria_, was to set sail for rejkiavik on the nd of june. the captain, m. bjarne, was on board. his intending passenger was so joyful that he almost squeezed his hands till they ached. that good man was rather surprised at his energy. to him it seemed a very simple thing to go to iceland, as that was his business; but to my uncle it was sublime. the worthy captain took advantage of his enthusiasm to charge double fares; but we did not trouble ourselves about mere trifles. . "you must be on board on tuesday, at seven in the morning," said captain bjarne, after having pocketed more dollars than were his due. then we thanked m. thomsen for his kindness, "and we returned to the phoenix hotel. "it's all right, it's all right," my uncle repeated. "how fortunate we are to have found this boat ready for sailing. now let us have some breakfast and go about the town." we went first to kongens-nye-torw, an irregular square in which are two innocent-looking guns, which need not alarm any one. close by, at no. , there was a french "restaurant," kept by a cook of the name of vincent, where we had an ample breakfast for four marks each ( _s_. _d_.). then i took a childish pleasure in exploring the city; my uncle let me take him with me, but he took notice of nothing, neither the insignificant king's palace, nor the pretty seventeenth century bridge, which spans the canal before the museum, nor that immense cenotaph of thorwaldsen's, adorned with horrible mural painting, and containing within it a collection of the sculptor's works, nor in a fine park the toylike chateau of rosenberg, nor the beautiful renaissance edifice of the exchange, nor its spire composed of the twisted tails of four bronze dragons, nor the great windmill on the ramparts, whose huge arms dilated in the sea breeze like the sails of a ship. what delicious walks we should have had together, my pretty virlandaise and i, along the harbour where the two-deckers and the frigate slept peaceably by the red roofing of the warehouse, by the green banks of the strait, through the deep shades of the trees amongst which the fort is half concealed, where the guns are thrusting out their black throats between branches of alder and willow. but, alas! gräuben was far away; and i never hoped to see her again. but if my uncle felt no attraction towards these romantic scenes he was very much struck with the aspect of a certain church spire situated in the island of amak, which forms the south-west quarter of copenhagen. i was ordered to direct my feet that way; i embarked on a small steamer which plies on the canals, and in a few minutes she touched the quay of the dockyard. after crossing a few narrow streets where some convicts, in trousers half yellow and half grey, were at work under the orders of the gangers, we arrived at the vor frelsers kirk. there was nothing remarkable about the church; but there was a reason why its tall spire had attracted the professor's attention. starting from the top of the tower, an external staircase wound around the spire, the spirals circling up into the sky. "let us get to the top," said my uncle. "i shall be dizzy," i said. "the more reason why we should go up; we must get used to it." "but--" "come, i tell you; don't waste our time." i had to obey. a keeper who lived at the other end of the street handed us the key, and the ascent began. my uncle went ahead with a light step. i followed him not without alarm, for my head was very apt to feel dizzy; i possessed neither the equilibrium of an eagle nor his fearless nature. as long as we were protected on the inside of the winding staircase up the tower, all was well enough; but after toiling up a hundred and fifty steps the fresh air came to salute my face, and we were on the leads of the tower. there the aerial staircase began its gyrations, only guarded by a thin iron rail, and the narrowing steps seemed to ascend into infinite space! "never shall i be able to do it," i said. "don't be a coward; come up, sir"; said my uncle with the coldest cruelty. i had to follow, clutching at every step. the keen air made me giddy; i felt the spire rocking with every gust of wind; my knees began to fail; soon i was crawling on my knees, then creeping on my stomach; i closed my eyes; i seemed to be lost in space. at last i reached the apex, with the assistance of my uncle dragging me up by the collar. "look down!" he cried. "look down well! you must take a lesson in abysses." i opened my eyes. i saw houses squashed flat as if they had all fallen down from the skies; a smoke fog seemed to drown them. over my head ragged clouds were drifting past, and by an optical inversion they seemed stationary, while the steeple, the ball and i were all spinning along with fantastic speed. far away on one side was the green country, on the other the sea sparkled, bathed in sunlight. the sound stretched away to elsinore, dotted with a few white sails, like sea-gulls' wings; and in the misty east and away to the north-east lay outstretched the faintly-shadowed shores of sweden. all this immensity of space whirled and wavered, fluctuating beneath my eyes. but i was compelled to rise, to stand up, to look. my first lesson in dizziness lasted an hour. when i got permission to come down and feel the solid street pavements i was afflicted with severe lumbago. "to-morrow we will do it again," said the professor. and it was so; for five days in succession, i was obliged to undergo this anti-vertiginous exercise; and whether i would or not, i made some improvement in the art of "lofty contemplations." chapter ix. iceland! but what next? the day for our departure arrived. the day before it our kind friend m. thomsen brought us letters of introduction to count trampe, the governor of iceland, m. picturssen, the bishop's suffragan, and m. finsen, mayor of rejkiavik. my uncle expressed his gratitude by tremendous compressions of both his hands. on the nd, at six in the evening, all our precious baggage being safely on board the _valkyria,_ the captain took us into a very narrow cabin. "is the wind favourable?" my uncle asked. "excellent," replied captain bjarne; "a sou'-easter. we shall pass down the sound full speed, with all sails set." in a few minutes the schooner, under her mizen, brigantine, topsail, and topgallant sail, loosed from her moorings and made full sail through the straits. in an hour the capital of denmark seemed to sink below the distant waves, and the _valkyria_ was skirting the coast by elsinore. in my nervous frame of mind i expected to see the ghost of hamlet wandering on the legendary castle terrace. "sublime madman!" i said, "no doubt you would approve of our expedition. perhaps you would keep us company to the centre of the globe, to find the solution of your eternal doubts." but there was no ghostly shape upon the ancient walls. indeed, the castle is much younger than the heroic prince of denmark. it now answers the purpose of a sumptuous lodge for the doorkeeper of the straits of the sound, before which every year there pass fifteen thousand ships of all nations. the castle of kronsberg soon disappeared in the mist, as well as the tower of helsingborg, built on the swedish coast, and the schooner passed lightly on her way urged by the breezes of the cattegat. the _valkyria_ was a splendid sailer, but on a sailing vessel you can place no dependence. she was taking to rejkiavik coal, household goods, earthenware, woollen clothing, and a cargo of wheat. the crew consisted of five men, all danes. "how long will the passage take?" my uncle asked. "ten days," the captain replied, "if we don't meet a nor'-wester in passing the faroes." "but are you not subject to considerable delays?" "no, m. liedenbrock, don't be uneasy, we shall get there in very good time." at evening the schooner doubled the skaw at the northern point of denmark, in the night passed the skager rack, skirted norway by cape lindness, and entered the north sea. in two days more we sighted the coast of scotland near peterhead, and the _valkyria_ turned her lead towards the faroe islands, passing between the orkneys and shetlands. soon the schooner encountered the great atlantic swell; she had to tack against the north wind, and reached the faroes only with some difficulty. on the th the captain made out myganness, the southernmost of these islands, and from that moment took a straight course for cape portland, the most southerly point of iceland. the passage was marked by nothing unusual. i bore the troubles of the sea pretty well; my uncle, to his own intense disgust, and his greater shame, was ill all through the voyage. he therefore was unable to converse with the captain about snæfell, the way to get to it, the facilities for transport, he was obliged to put off these inquiries until his arrival, and spent all his time at full length in his cabin, of which the timbers creaked and shook with every pitch she took. it must be confessed he was not undeserving of his punishment. on the th we reached cape portland. the clear open weather gave us a good view of myrdals jokul, which overhangs it. the cape is merely a low hill with steep sides, standing lonely by the beach. the _valkyria_ kept at some distance from the coast, taking a westerly course amidst great shoals of whales and sharks. soon we came in sight of an enormous perforated rock, through which the sea dashed furiously. the westman islets seemed to rise out of the ocean like a group of rocks in a liquid plain. from that time the schooner took a wide berth and swept at a great distance round cape rejkianess, which forms the western point of iceland. the rough sea prevented my uncle from coming on deck to admire these shattered and surf-beaten coasts. forty-eight hours after, coming out of a storm which forced the schooner to scud under bare poles, we sighted east of us the beacon on cape skagen, where dangerous rocks extend far away seaward. an icelandic pilot came on board, and in three hours the _valkyria_ dropped her anchor before rejkiavik, in faxa bay. the professor at last emerged from his cabin, rather pale and wretched-looking, but still full of enthusiasm, and with ardent satisfaction shining in his eyes. the population of the town, wonderfully interested in the arrival of a vessel from which every one expected something, formed in groups upon the quay. my uncle left in haste his floating prison, or rather hospital. but before quitting the deck of the schooner he dragged me forward, and pointing with outstretched finger north of the bay at a distant mountain terminating in a double peak, a pair of cones covered with perpetual snow, he cried: "snæfell! snæfell!" then recommending me, by an impressive gesture, to keep silence, he went into the boat which awaited him. i followed, and presently we were treading the soil of iceland. the first man we saw was a good-looking fellow enough, in a general's uniform. yet he was not a general but a magistrate, the governor of the island, m. le baron trampe himself. the professor was soon aware of the presence he was in. he delivered him his letters from copenhagen, and then followed a short conversation in the danish language, the purport of which i was quite ignorant of, and for a very good reason. but the result of this first conversation was, that baron trampe placed himself entirely at the service of professor liedenbrock. my uncle was just as courteously received by the mayor, m. finsen, whose appearance was as military, and disposition and office as pacific, as the governor's. as for the bishop's suffragan, m. picturssen, he was at that moment engaged on an episcopal visitation in the north. for the time we must be resigned to wait for the honour of being presented to him. but m. fridrikssen, professor of natural sciences at the school of rejkiavik, was a delightful man, and his friendship became very precious to me. this modest philosopher spoke only danish and latin. he came to proffer me his good offices in the language of horace, and i felt that we were made to understand each other. in fact he was the only person in iceland with whom i could converse at all. this good-natured gentleman made over to us two of the three rooms which his house contained, and we were soon installed in it with all our luggage, the abundance of which rather astonished the good people of rejkiavik. "well, axel," said my uncle, "we are getting on, and now the worst is over." "the worst!" i said, astonished. "to be sure, now we have nothing to do but go down." "oh, if that is all, you are quite right; but after all, when we have gone down, we shall have to get up again, i suppose?" "oh i don't trouble myself about that. come, there's no time to lose; i am going to the library. perhaps there is some manuscript of saknussemm's there, and i should be glad to consult it." "well, while you are there i will go into the town. won't you?" "oh, that is very uninteresting to me. it is not what is upon this island, but what is underneath, that interests me." i went out, and wandered wherever chance took me. it would not be easy to lose your way in rejkiavik. i was therefore under no necessity to inquire the road, which exposes one to mistakes when the only medium of intercourse is gesture. the town extends along a low and marshy level, between two hills. an immense bed of lava bounds it on one side, and falls gently towards the sea. on the other extends the vast bay of faxa, shut in at the north by the enormous glacier of the snæfell, and of which the _valkyria_ was for the time the only occupant. usually the english and french conservators of fisheries moor in this bay, but just then they were cruising about the western coasts of the island. the longest of the only two streets that rejkiavik possesses was parallel with the beach. here live the merchants and traders, in wooden cabins made of red planks set horizontally; the other street, running west, ends at the little lake between the house of the bishop and other non-commercial people. i had soon explored these melancholy ways; here and there i got a glimpse of faded turf, looking like a worn-out bit of carpet, or some appearance of a kitchen garden, the sparse vegetables of which (potatoes, cabbages, and lettuces), would have figured appropriately upon a lilliputian table. a few sickly wallflowers were trying to enjoy the air and sunshine. about the middle of the tin-commercial street i found the public cemetery, inclosed with a mud wall, and where there seemed plenty of room. then a few steps brought me to the governor's house, a but compared with the town hall of hamburg, a palace in comparison with the cabins of the icelandic population. between the little lake and the town the church is built in the protestant style, of calcined stones extracted out of the volcanoes by their own labour and at their own expense; in high westerly winds it was manifest that the red tiles of the roof would be scattered in the air, to the great danger of the faithful worshippers. on a neighbouring hill i perceived the national school, where, as i was informed later by our host, were taught hebrew, english, french, and danish, four languages of which, with shame i confess it, i don't know a single word; after an examination i should have had to stand last of the forty scholars educated at this little college, and i should have been held unworthy to sleep along with them in one of those little double closets, where more delicate youths would have died of suffocation the very first night. in three hours i had seen not only the town but its environs. the general aspect was wonderfully dull. no trees, and scarcely any vegetation. everywhere bare rocks, signs of volcanic action. the icelandic huts are made of earth and turf, and the walls slope inward; they rather resemble roofs placed on the ground. but then these roofs are meadows of comparative fertility. thanks to the internal heat, the grass grows on them to some degree of perfection. it is carefully mown in the hay season; if it were not, the horses would come to pasture on these green abodes. in my excursion i met but few people. on returning to the main street i found the greater part of the population busied in drying, salting, and putting on board codfish, their chief export. the men looked like robust but heavy, blond germans with pensive eyes, conscious of being far removed from their fellow creatures, poor exiles relegated to this land of ice, poor creatures who should have been esquimaux, since nature had condemned them to live only just outside the arctic circle! in vain did i try to detect a smile upon their lips; sometimes by a spasmodic and involuntary contraction of the muscles they seemed to laugh, but they never smiled. their costume consisted of a coarse jacket of black woollen cloth called in scandinavian lands a 'vadmel,' a hat with a very broad brim, trousers with a narrow edge of red, and a bit of leather rolled round the foot for shoes. the women looked as sad and as resigned as the men; their faces were agreeable but expressionless, and they wore gowns and petticoats of dark 'vadmel'; as maidens, they wore over their braided hair a little knitted brown cap; when married, they put around their heads a coloured handkerchief, crowned with a peak of white linen. after a good walk i returned to m. fridrikssen's house, where i found my uncle already in his host's company. chapter x. interesting conversations with icelandic savants dinner was ready. professor liedenbrock devoured his portion voraciously, for his compulsory fast on board had converted his stomach into a vast unfathomable gulf. there was nothing remarkable in the meal itself; but the hospitality of our host, more danish than icelandic, reminded me of the heroes of old. it was evident that we were more at home than he was himself. the conversation was carried on in the vernacular tongue, which my uncle mixed with german and m. fridrikssen with latin for my benefit. it turned upon scientific questions as befits philosophers; but professor liedenbrock was excessively reserved, and at every sentence spoke to me with his eyes, enjoining the most absolute silence upon our plans. in the first place m. fridrikssen wanted to know what success my uncle had had at the library. "your library! why there is nothing but a few tattered books upon almost deserted shelves." "indeed!" replied m. fridrikssen, "why we possess eight thousand volumes, many of them valuable and scarce, works in the old scandinavian language, and we have all the novelties that copenhagen sends us every year." "where do you keep your eight thousand volumes? for my part--" "oh, m. liedenbrock, they are all over the country. in this icy region we are fond of study. there is not a farmer nor a fisherman that cannot read and does not read. our principle is, that books, instead of growing mouldy behind an iron grating, should be worn out under the eyes of many readers. therefore, these volumes are passed from one to another, read over and over, referred to again and again; and it often happens that they find their way back to their shelves only after an absence of a year or two." "and in the meantime," said my uncle rather spitefully, "strangers--" "well, what would you have? foreigners have their libraries at home, and the first essential for labouring people is that they should be educated. i repeat to you the love of reading runs in icelandic blood. in we founded a prosperous literary society; learned strangers think themselves honoured in becoming members of it. it publishes books which educate our fellow-countrymen, and do the country great service. if you will consent to be a corresponding member, herr liedenbrock, you will be giving us great pleasure." my uncle, who had already joined about a hundred learned societies, accepted with a grace which evidently touched m. fridrikssen. "now," said he, "will you be kind enough to tell me what books you hoped to find in our library and i may perhaps enable you to consult them?" my uncle's eyes and mine met. he hesitated. this direct question went to the root of the matter. but after a moment's reflection he decided on speaking. "monsieur fridrikssen, i wished to know if amongst your ancient books you possessed any of the works of arne saknussemm?" "arne saknussemm!" replied the rejkiavik professor. "you mean that learned sixteenth century savant, a naturalist, a chemist, and a traveller?" "just so!" "one of the glories of icelandic literature and science?" "that's the man." "an illustrious man anywhere!" "quite so." "and whose courage was equal to his genius!" "i see that you know him well." my uncle was bathed in delight at hearing his hero thus described. he feasted his eyes upon m. fridrikssen's face. "well," he cried, "where are his works?" "his works, we have them not." "what--not in iceland?" "they are neither in iceland nor anywhere else." "why is that?" "because arne saknussemm was persecuted for heresy, and in his books were burned by the hands of the common hangman." "very good! excellent!" cried my uncle, to the great scandal of the professor of natural history. "what!" he cried. "yes, yes; now it is all clear, now it is all unravelled; and i see why saknussemm, put into the index expurgatorius, and compelled to hide the discoveries made by his genius, was obliged to bury in an incomprehensible cryptogram the secret--" "what secret?" asked m. fridrikssen, starting. "oh, just a secret which--" my uncle stammered. "have you some private document in your possession?" asked our host. "no; i was only supposing a case." "oh, very well," answered m. fridrikssen, who was kind enough not to pursue the subject when he had noticed the embarrassment of his friend. "i hope you will not leave our island until you have seen some of its mineralogical wealth." "certainly," replied my uncle; "but i am rather late; or have not others been here before me?" "yes, herr liedenbrock; the labours of mm. olafsen and povelsen, pursued by order of the king, the researches of troïl the scientific mission of mm. gaimard and robert on the french corvette _la recherche,_ [ ] and lately the observations of scientific men who came in the _reine hortense,_ have added materially to our knowledge of iceland. but i assure you there is plenty left." "do you think so?" said my uncle, pretending to look very modest, and trying to hide the curiosity was flashing out of his eyes. "oh, yes; how many mountains, glaciers, and volcanoes there are to study, which are as yet but imperfectly known! then, without going any further, that mountain in the horizon. that is snæfell." "ah!" said my uncle, as coolly as he was able, "is that snæfell?" "yes; one of the most curious volcanoes, and the crater of which has scarcely ever been visited." "is it extinct?" "oh, yes; more than five hundred years." "well," replied my uncle, who was frantically locking his legs together to keep himself from jumping up in the air, "that is where i mean to begin my geological studies, there on that seffel--fessel--what do you call it?" "snæfell," replied the excellent m. fridrikssen. this part of the conversation was in latin; i had understood every word of it, and i could hardly conceal my amusement at seeing my uncle trying to keep down the excitement and satisfaction which were brimming over in every limb and every feature. he tried hard to put on an innocent little expression of simplicity; but it looked like a diabolical grin. [ ] _recherche_ was sent out in by admiral duperré to learn the fate of the lost expedition of m. de blosseville in the _lilloise_ which has never been heard of. "yes," said he, "your words decide me. we will try to scale that snæfell; perhaps even we may pursue our studies in its crater!" "i am very sorry," said m. fridrikssen, "that my engagements will not allow me to absent myself, or i would have accompanied you myself with both pleasure and profit." "oh, no, no!" replied my uncle with great animation, "we would not disturb any one for the world, m. fridrikssen. still, i thank you with all my heart: the company of such a talented man would have been very serviceable, but the duties of your profession--" i am glad to think that our host, in the innocence of his icelandic soul, was blind to the transparent artifices of my uncle. "i very much approve of your beginning with that volcano, m. liedenbrock. you will gather a harvest of interesting observations. but, tell me, how do you expect to get to the peninsula of snæfell?" "by sea, crossing the bay. that's the most direct way." "no doubt; but it is impossible." "why?" "because we don't possess a single boat at rejkiavik." "you don't mean to say so?" "you will have to go by land, following the shore. it will be longer, but more interesting." "very well, then; and now i shall have to see about a guide." "i have one to offer you." "a safe, intelligent man." "yes; an inhabitant of that peninsula. he is an eider-down hunter, and very clever. he speaks danish perfectly." "when can i see him?" "to-morrow, if you like." "why not to-day?" "because he won't be here till to-morrow." "to-morrow, then," added my uncle with a sigh. this momentous conversation ended in a few minutes with warm acknowledgments paid by the german to the icelandic professor. at this dinner my uncle had just elicited important facts, amongst others, the history of saknussemm, the reason of the mysterious document, that his host would not accompany him in his expedition, and that the very next day a guide would be waiting upon him. chapter xi. a guide found to the centre of the earth in the evening i took a short walk on the beach and returned at night to my plank-bed, where i slept soundly all night. when i awoke i heard my uncle talking at a great rate in the next room. i immediately dressed and joined him. he was conversing in the danish language with a tall man, of robust build. this fine fellow must have been possessed of great strength. his eyes, set in a large and ingenuous face, seemed to me very intelligent; they were of a dreamy sea-blue. long hair, which would have been called red even in england, fell in long meshes upon his broad shoulders. the movements of this native were lithe and supple; but he made little use of his arms in speaking, like a man who knew nothing or cared nothing about the language of gestures. his whole appearance bespoke perfect calmness and self-possession, not indolence but tranquillity. it was felt at once that he would be beholden to nobody, that he worked for his own convenience, and that nothing in this world could astonish or disturb his philosophic calmness. i caught the shades of this icelander's character by the way in which he listened to the impassioned flow of words which fell from the professor. he stood with arms crossed, perfectly unmoved by my uncle's incessant gesticulations. a negative was expressed by a slow movement of the head from left to right, an affirmative by a slight bend, so slight that his long hair scarcely moved. he carried economy of motion even to parsimony. certainly i should never have dreamt in looking at this man that he was a hunter; he did not look likely to frighten his game, nor did he seem as if he would even get near it. but the mystery was explained when m. fridrikssen informed me that this tranquil personage was only a hunter of the eider duck, whose under plumage constitutes the chief wealth of the island. this is the celebrated eider down, and it requires no great rapidity of movement to get it. early in summer the female, a very pretty bird, goes to build her nest among the rocks of the fiords with which the coast is fringed. after building the nest she feathers it with down plucked from her own breast. immediately the hunter, or rather the trader, comes and robs the nest, and the female recommences her work. this goes on as long as she has any down left. when she has stripped herself bare the male takes his turn to pluck himself. but as the coarse and hard plumage of the male has no commercial value, the hunter does not take the trouble to rob the nest of this; the female therefore lays her eggs in the spoils of her mate, the young are hatched, and next year the harvest begins again. now, as the eider duck does not select steep cliffs for her nest, but rather the smooth terraced rocks which slope to the sea, the icelandic hunter might exercise his calling without any inconvenient exertion. he was a farmer who was not obliged either to sow or reap his harvest, but merely to gather it in. this grave, phlegmatic, and silent individual was called hans bjelke; and he came recommended by m. fridrikssen. he was our future guide. his manners were a singular contrast with my uncle's. nevertheless, they soon came to understand each other. neither looked at the amount of the payment: the one was ready to accept whatever was offered; the other was ready to give whatever was demanded. never was bargain more readily concluded. the result of the treaty was, that hans engaged on his part to conduct us to the village of stapi, on the south shore of the snæfell peninsula, at the very foot of the volcano. by land this would be about twenty-two miles, to be done, said my uncle, in two days. but when he learnt that the danish mile was , feet long, he was obliged to modify his calculations and allow seven or eight days for the march. four horses were to be placed at our disposal--two to carry him and me, two for the baggage. hams, as was his custom, would go on foot. he knew all that part of the coast perfectly, and promised to take us the shortest way. his engagement was not to terminate with our arrival at stapi; he was to continue in my uncle's service for the whole period of his scientific researches, for the remuneration of three rixdales a week (about twelve shillings), but it was an express article of the covenant that his wages should be counted out to him every saturday at six o'clock in the evening, which, according to him, was one indispensable part of the engagement. the start was fixed for the th of june. my uncle wanted to pay the hunter a portion in advance, but he refused with one word: "_efter,_" said he. "after," said the professor for my edification. the treaty concluded, hans silently withdrew. "a famous fellow," cried my uncle; "but he little thinks of the marvellous part he has to play in the future." "so he is to go with us as far as--" "as far as the centre of the earth, axel." forty-eight hours were left before our departure; to my great regret i had to employ them in preparations; for all our ingenuity was required to pack every article to the best advantage; instruments here, arms there, tools in this package, provisions in that: four sets of packages in all. the instruments were: . an eigel's centigrade thermometer, graduated up to degrees ( degrees fahr.), which seemed to me too much or too little. too much if the internal heat was to rise so high, for in this case we should be baked, not enough to measure the temperature of springs or any matter in a state of fusion. . an aneroid barometer, to indicate extreme pressures of the atmosphere. an ordinary barometer would not have answered the purpose, as the pressure would increase during our descent to a point which the mercurial barometer [ ] would not register. . a chronometer, made by boissonnas, jun., of geneva, accurately set to the meridian of hamburg. . two compasses, viz., a common compass and a dipping needle. . a night glass. . two of ruhmkorff's apparatus, which, by means of an electric current, supplied a safe and handy portable light [ ] the arms consisted of two of purdy's rifles and two brace of pistols. but what did we want arms for? we had neither savages nor wild beasts to fear, i supposed. but my uncle seemed to believe in his arsenal as in his instruments, and more especially in a considerable quantity of gun cotton, which is unaffected by moisture, and the explosive force of which exceeds that of gunpowder. [ ] in m. verne's book a 'manometer' is the instrument used, of which very little is known. in a complete list of philosophical instruments the translator cannot find the name. as he is assured by a first-rate instrument maker, chadburn, of liverpool, that an aneroid can be constructed to measure any depth, he has thought it best to furnish the adventurous professor with this more familiar instrument. the 'manometer' is generally known as a pressure gauge.--trans. [ ] ruhmkorff's apparatus consists of a bunsen pile worked with bichromate of potash, which makes no smell; an induction coil carries the electricity generated by the pile into communication with a lantern of peculiar construction; in this lantern there is a spiral glass tube from which the air has been excluded, and in which remains only a residuum of carbonic acid gas or of nitrogen. when the apparatus is put in action this gas becomes luminous, producing a white steady light. the pile and coil are placed in a leathern bag which the traveller carries over his shoulders; the lantern outside of the bag throws sufficient light into deep darkness; it enables one to venture without fear of explosions into the midst of the most inflammable gases, and is not extinguished even in the deepest waters. m. ruhmkorff is a learned and most ingenious man of science; his great discovery is his induction coil, which produces a powerful stream of electricity. he obtained in the quinquennial prize of , franc reserved by the french government for the most ingenious application of electricity. the tools comprised two pickaxes, two spades, a silk ropeladder, three iron-tipped sticks, a hatchet, a hammer, a dozen wedges and iron spikes, and a long knotted rope. now this was a large load, for the ladder was feet long. and there were provisions too: this was not a large parcel, but it was comforting to know that of essence of beef and biscuits there were six months' consumption. spirits were the only liquid, and of water we took none; but we had flasks, and my uncle depended on springs from which to fill them. whatever objections i hazarded as to their quality, temperature, and even absence, remained ineffectual. to complete the exact inventory of all our travelling accompaniments, i must not forget a pocket medicine chest, containing blunt scissors, splints for broken limbs, a piece of tape of unbleached linen, bandages and compresses, lint, a lancet for bleeding, all dreadful articles to take with one. then there was a row of phials containing dextrine, alcoholic ether, liquid acetate of lead, vinegar, and ammonia drugs which afforded me no comfort. finally, all the articles needful to supply ruhmkorff's apparatus. my uncle did not forget a supply of tobacco, coarse grained powder, and amadou, nor a leathern belt in which he carried a sufficient quantity of gold, silver, and paper money. six pairs of boots and shoes, made waterproof with a composition of indiarubber and naphtha, were packed amongst the tools. "clothed, shod, and equipped like this," said my uncle, "there is no telling how far we may go." the th was wholly spent in arranging all our different articles. in the evening we dined with baron tramps; the mayor of rejkiavik, and dr. hyaltalin, the first medical man of the place, being of the party. m. fridrikssen was not there. i learned afterwards that he and the governor disagreed upon some question of administration, and did not speak to each other. i therefore knew not a single word of all that was said at this semi-official dinner; but i could not help noticing that my uncle talked the whole time. on the th our preparations were all made. our host gave the professor very great pleasure by presenting him with a map of iceland far more complete than that of hendersen. it was the map of m. olaf nikolas olsen, in the proportion of to , of the actual size of the island, and published by the icelandic literary society. it was a precious document for a mineralogist. our last evening was spent in intimate conversation with m. fridrikssen, with whom i felt the liveliest sympathy; then, after the talk, succeeded, for me, at any rate, a disturbed and restless night. at five in the morning i was awoke by the neighing and pawing of four horses under my window. i dressed hastily and came down into the street. hans was finishing our packing, almost as it were without moving a limb; and yet he did his work cleverly. my uncle made more noise than execution, and the guide seemed to pay very little attention to his energetic directions. at six o'clock our preparations were over. m. fridrikssen shook hands with us. my uncle thanked him heartily for his extreme kindness. i constructed a few fine latin sentences to express my cordial farewell. then we bestrode our steeds and with his last adieu m. fridrikssen treated me to a line of virgil eminently applicable to such uncertain wanderers as we were likely to be: "et quacumque viam dedent fortuna sequamur." "therever fortune clears a way, thither our ready footsteps stray." chapter xii. a barren land we had started under a sky overcast but calm. there was no fear of heat, none of disastrous rain. it was just the weather for tourists. the pleasure of riding on horseback over an unknown country made me easy to be pleased at our first start. i threw myself wholly into the pleasure of the trip, and enjoyed the feeling of freedom and satisfied desire. i was beginning to take a real share in the enterprise. "besides," i said to myself, "where's the risk? here we are travelling all through a most interesting country! we are about to climb a very remarkable mountain; at the worst we are going to scramble down an extinct crater. it is evident that saknussemm did nothing more than this. as for a passage leading to the centre of the globe, it is mere rubbish! perfectly impossible! very well, then; let us get all the good we can out of this expedition, and don't let us haggle about the chances." this reasoning having settled my mind, we got out of rejkiavik. hans moved steadily on, keeping ahead of us at an even, smooth, and rapid pace. the baggage horses followed him without giving any trouble. then came my uncle and myself, looking not so very ill-mounted on our small but hardy animals. iceland is one of the largest islands in europe. its surface is , square miles, and it contains but , inhabitants. geographers have divided it into four quarters, and we were crossing diagonally the south-west quarter, called the 'sudvester fjordungr.' on leaving rejkiavik hans took us by the seashore. we passed lean pastures which were trying very hard, but in vain, to look green; yellow came out best. the rugged peaks of the trachyte rocks presented faint outlines on the eastern horizon; at times a few patches of snow, concentrating the vague light, glittered upon the slopes of the distant mountains; certain peaks, boldly uprising, passed through the grey clouds, and reappeared above the moving mists, like breakers emerging in the heavens. often these chains of barren rocks made a dip towards the sea, and encroached upon the scanty pasturage: but there was always enough room to pass. besides, our horses instinctively chose the easiest places without ever slackening their pace. my uncle was refused even the satisfaction of stirring up his beast with whip or voice. he had no excuse for being impatient. i could not help smiling to see so tall a man on so small a pony, and as his long legs nearly touched the ground he looked like a six-legged centaur. "good horse! good horse!" he kept saying. "you will see, axel, that there is no more sagacious animal than the icelandic horse. he is stopped by neither snow, nor storm, nor impassable roads, nor rocks, glaciers, or anything. he is courageous, sober, and surefooted. he never makes a false step, never shies. if there is a river or fiord to cross (and we shall meet with many) you will see him plunge in at once, just as if he were amphibious, and gain the opposite bank. but we must not hurry him; we must let him have his way, and we shall get on at the rate of thirty miles a day." "we may; but how about our guide?" "oh, never mind him. people like him get over the ground without a thought. there is so little action in this man that he will never get tired; and besides, if he wants it, he shall have my horse. i shall get cramped if i don't have a little action. the arms are all right, but the legs want exercise." we were advancing at a rapid pace. the country was already almost a desert. here and there was a lonely farm, called a boër built either of wood, or of sods, or of pieces of lava, looking like a poor beggar by the wayside. these ruinous huts seemed to solicit charity from passers-by; and on very small provocation we should have given alms for the relief of the poor inmates. in this country there were no roads and paths, and the poor vegetation, however slow, would soon efface the rare travellers' footsteps. yet this part of the province, at a very small distance from the capital, is reckoned among the inhabited and cultivated portions of iceland. what, then, must other tracts be, more desert than this desert? in the first half mile we had not seen one farmer standing before his cabin door, nor one shepherd tending a flock less wild than himself, nothing but a few cows and sheep left to themselves. what then would be those convulsed regions upon which we were advancing, regions subject to the dire phenomena of eruptions, the offspring of volcanic explosions and subterranean convulsions? we were to know them before long, but on consulting olsen's map, i saw that they would be avoided by winding along the seashore. in fact, the great plutonic action is confined to the central portion of the island; there, rocks of the trappean and volcanic class, including trachyte, basalt, and tuffs and agglomerates associated with streams of lava, have made this a land of supernatural horrors. i had no idea of the spectacle which was awaiting us in the peninsula of snæfell, where these ruins of a fiery nature have formed a frightful chaos. in two hours from rejkiavik we arrived at the burgh of gufunes, called aolkirkja, or principal church. there was nothing remarkable here but a few houses, scarcely enough for a german hamlet. hans stopped here half an hour. he shared with us our frugal breakfast; answering my uncle's questions about the road and our resting place that night with merely yes or no, except when he said "gardär." i consulted the map to see where gardär was. i saw there was a small town of that name on the banks of the hvalfiord, four miles from rejkiavik. i showed it to my uncle. "four miles only!" he exclaimed; "four miles out of twenty-eight. what a nice little walk!" he was about to make an observation to the guide, who without answering resumed his place at the head, and went on his way. three hours later, still treading on the colourless grass of the pasture land, we had to work round the kolla fiord, a longer way but an easier one than across that inlet. we soon entered into a 'pingstaoer' or parish called ejulberg, from whose steeple twelve o'clock would have struck, if icelandic churches were rich enough to possess clocks. but they are like the parishioners who have no watches and do without. there our horses were baited; then taking the narrow path to left between a chain of hills and the sea, they carried us to our next stage, the aolkirkja of brantär and one mile farther on, to saurboër 'annexia,' a chapel of ease built on the south shore of the hvalfiord. it was now four o'clock, and we had gone four icelandic miles, or twenty-four english miles. in that place the fiord was at least three english miles wide; the waves rolled with a rushing din upon the sharp-pointed rocks; this inlet was confined between walls of rock, precipices crowned by sharp peaks , feet high, and remarkable for the brown strata which separated the beds of reddish tuff. however much i might respect the intelligence of our quadrupeds, i hardly cared to put it to the test by trusting myself to it on horseback across an arm of the sea. if they are as intelligent as they are said to be, i thought, they won't try it. in any case, i will tax my intelligence to direct theirs. but my uncle would not wait. he spurred on to the edge. his steed lowered his head to examine the nearest waves and stopped. my uncle, who had an instinct of his own, too, applied pressure, and was again refused by the animal significantly shaking his head. then followed strong language, and the whip; but the brute answered these arguments with kicks and endeavours to throw his rider. at last the clever little pony, with a bend of his knees, started from under the professor's legs, and left him standing upon two boulders on the shore just like the colossus of rhodes. "confounded brute!" cried the unhorsed horseman, suddenly degraded into a pedestrian, just as ashamed as a cavalry officer degraded to a foot soldier. "_färja,_" said the guide, touching his shoulder. "what! a boat?" "_der,_" replied hans, pointing to one. "yes," i cried; "there is a boat." "why did not you say so then? well, let us go on." "_tidvatten,_" said the guide. "what is he saying?" "he says tide," said my uncle, translating the danish word. "no doubt we must wait for the tide." "_förbida,_" said my uncle. "_ja,_" replied hans. my uncle stamped with his foot, while the horses went on to the boat. i perfectly understood the necessity of abiding a particular moment of the tide to undertake the crossing of the fiord, when, the sea having reached its greatest height, it should be slack water. then the ebb and flow have no sensible effect, and the boat does not risk being carried either to the bottom or out to sea. that favourable moment arrived only with six o'clock; when my uncle, myself, the guide, two other passengers and the four horses, trusted ourselves to a somewhat fragile raft. accustomed as i was to the swift and sure steamers on the elbe, i found the oars of the rowers rather a slow means of propulsion. it took us more than an hour to cross the fiord; but the passage was effected without any mishap. in another half hour we had reached the aolkirkja of gardär chapter xiii. hospitality under the arctic circle it ought to have been night-time, but under the th parallel there was nothing surprising in the nocturnal polar light. in iceland during the months of june and july the sun does not set. but the temperature was much lower. i was cold and more hungry than cold. welcome was the sight of the boër which was hospitably opened to receive us. it was a peasant's house, but in point of hospitality it was equal to a king's. on our arrival the master came with outstretched hands, and without more ceremony he beckoned us to follow him. to accompany him down the long, narrow, dark passage, would have been impossible. therefore, we followed, as he bid us. the building was constructed of roughly squared timbers, with rooms on both sides, four in number, all opening out into the one passage: these were the kitchen, the weaving shop, the badstofa, or family sleeping-room, and the visitors' room, which was the best of all. my uncle, whose height had not been thought of in building the house, of course hit his head several times against the beams that projected from the ceilings. we were introduced into our apartment, a large room with a floor of earth stamped hard down, and lighted by a window, the panes of which were formed of sheep's bladder, not admitting too much light. the sleeping accommodation consisted of dry litter, thrown into two wooden frames painted red, and ornamented with icelandic sentences. i was hardly expecting so much comfort; the only discomfort proceeded from the strong odour of dried fish, hung meat, and sour milk, of which my nose made bitter complaints. when we had laid aside our travelling wraps the voice of the host was heard inviting us to the kitchen, the only room where a fire was lighted even in the severest cold. my uncle lost no time in obeying the friendly call, nor was i slack in following. the kitchen chimney was constructed on the ancient pattern; in the middle of the room was a stone for a hearth, over it in the roof a hole to let the smoke escape. the kitchen was also a dining-room. at our entrance the host, as if he had never seen us, greeted us with the word "_sællvertu,_" which means "be happy," and came and kissed us on the cheek. after him his wife pronounced the same words, accompanied with the same ceremonial; then the two placing their hands upon their hearts, inclined profoundly before us. i hasten to inform the reader that this icelandic lady was the mother of nineteen children, all, big and little, swarming in the midst of the dense wreaths of smoke with which the fire on the hearth filled the chamber. every moment i noticed a fair-haired and rather melancholy face peeping out of the rolling volumes of smoke--they were a perfect cluster of unwashed angels. my uncle and i treated this little tribe with kindness; and in a very short time we each had three or four of these brats on our shoulders, as many on our laps, and the rest between our knees. those who could speak kept repeating "_sællvertu,_" in every conceivable tone; those that could not speak made up for that want by shrill cries. this concert was brought to a close by the announcement of dinner. at that moment our hunter returned, who had been seeing his horses provided for; that is to say, he had economically let them loose in the fields, where the poor beasts had to content themselves with the scanty moss they could pull off the rocks and a few meagre sea weeds, and the next day they would not fail to come of themselves and resume the labours of the previous day. "_sællvertu,_" said hans. then calmly, automatically, and dispassionately he kissed the host, the hostess, and their nineteen children. this ceremony over, we sat at table, twenty-four in number, and therefore one upon another. the luckiest had only two urchins upon their knees. but silence reigned in all this little world at the arrival of the soup, and the national taciturnity resumed its empire even over the children. the host served out to us a soup made of lichen and by no means unpleasant, then an immense piece of dried fish floating in butter rancid with twenty years' keeping, and, therefore, according to icelandic gastronomy, much preferable to fresh butter. along with this, we had 'skye,' a sort of clotted milk, with biscuits, and a liquid prepared from juniper berries; for beverage we had a thin milk mixed with water, called in this country 'blanda.' it is not for me to decide whether this diet is wholesome or not; all i can say is, that i was desperately hungry, and that at dessert i swallowed to the very last gulp of a thick broth made from buckwheat. as soon as the meal was over the children disappeared, and their elders gathered round the peat fire, which also burnt such miscellaneous fuel as briars, cow-dung, and fishbones. after this little pinch of warmth the different groups retired to their respective rooms. our hostess hospitably offered us her assistance in undressing, according to icelandic usage; but on our gracefully declining, she insisted no longer, and i was able at last to curl myself up in my mossy bed. at five next morning we bade our host farewell, my uncle with difficulty persuading him to accept a proper remuneration; and hans signalled the start. at a hundred yards from gardär the soil began to change its aspect; it became boggy and less favourable to progress. on our right the chain of mountains was indefinitely prolonged like an immense system of natural fortifications, of which we were following the counter-scarp or lesser steep; often we were met by streams, which we had to ford with great care, not to wet our packages. the desert became wider and more hideous; yet from time to time we seemed to descry a human figure that fled at our approach, sometimes a sharp turn would bring us suddenly within a short distance of one of these spectres, and i was filled with loathing at the sight of a huge deformed head, the skin shining and hairless, and repulsive sores visible through the gaps in the poor creature's wretched rags. the unhappy being forbore to approach us and offer his misshapen hand. he fled away, but not before hans had saluted him with the customary "_sællvertu._" "_spetelsk,_" said he. "a leper!" my uncle repeated. this word produced a repulsive effect. the horrible disease of leprosy is too common in iceland; it is not contagious, but hereditary, and lepers are forbidden to marry. these apparitions were not cheerful, and did not throw any charm over the less and less attractive landscapes. the last tufts of grass had disappeared from beneath our feet. not a tree was to be seen, unless we except a few dwarf birches as low as brushwood. not an animal but a few wandering ponies that their owners would not feed. sometimes we could see a hawk balancing himself on his wings under the grey cloud, and then darting away south with rapid flight. i felt melancholy under this savage aspect of nature, and my thoughts went away to the cheerful scenes i had left in the far south. we had to cross a few narrow fiords, and at last quite a wide gulf; the tide, then high, allowed us to pass over without delay, and to reach the hamlet of alftanes, one mile beyond. that evening, after having forded two rivers full of trout and pike, called alfa and heta, we were obliged to spend the night in a deserted building worthy to be haunted by all the elfins of scandinavia. the ice king certainly held court here, and gave us all night long samples of what he could do. no particular event marked the next day. bogs, dead levels, melancholy desert tracks, wherever we travelled. by nightfall we had accomplished half our journey, and we lay at krösolbt. on the th of june, for about a mile, that is an icelandic mile, we walked upon hardened lava; this ground is called in the country 'hraun'; the writhen surface presented the appearance of distorted, twisted cables, sometimes stretched in length, sometimes contorted together; an immense torrent, once liquid, now solid, ran from the nearest mountains, now extinct volcanoes, but the ruins around revealed the violence of the past eruptions. yet here and there were a few jets of steam from hot springs. we had no time to watch these phenomena; we had to proceed on our way. soon at the foot of the mountains the boggy land reappeared, intersected by little lakes. our route now lay westward; we had turned the great bay of faxa, and the twin peaks of snæfell rose white into the cloudy sky at the distance of at least five miles. the horses did their duty well, no difficulties stopped them in their steady career. i was getting tired; but my uncle was as firm and straight as he was at our first start. i could not help admiring his persistency, as well as the hunter's, who treated our expedition like a mere promenade. june . at six p.m. we reached büdir, a village on the sea shore; and the guide there claiming his due, my uncle settled with him. it was hans' own family, that is, his uncles and cousins, who gave us hospitality; we were kindly received, and without taxing too much the goodness of these folks, i would willingly have tarried here to recruit after my fatigues. but my uncle, who wanted no recruiting, would not hear of it, and the next morning we had to bestride our beasts again. the soil told of the neighbourhood of the mountain, whose granite foundations rose from the earth like the knotted roots of some huge oak. we were rounding the immense base of the volcano. the professor hardly took his eyes off it. he tossed up his arms and seemed to defy it, and to declare, "there stands the giant that i shall conquer." after about four hours' walking the horses stopped of their own accord at the door of the priest's house at stapi. chapter xiv. but arctics can be inhospitable, too stapi is a village consisting of about thirty huts, built of lava, at the south side of the base of the volcano. it extends along the inner edge of a small fiord, inclosed between basaltic walls of the strangest construction. basalt is a brownish rock of igneous origin. it assumes regular forms, the arrangement of which is often very surprising. here nature had done her work geometrically, with square and compass and plummet. everywhere else her art consists alone in throwing down huge masses together in disorder. you see cones imperfectly formed, irregular pyramids, with a fantastic disarrangement of lines; but here, as if to exhibit an example of regularity, though in advance of the very earliest architects, she has created a severely simple order of architecture, never surpassed either by the splendours of babylon or the wonders of greece. i had heard of the giant's causeway in ireland, and fingal's cave in staffa, one of the hebrides; but i had never yet seen a basaltic formation. at stapi i beheld this phenomenon in all its beauty. the wall that confined the fiord, like all the coast of the peninsula, was composed of a series of vertical columns thirty feet high. these straight shafts, of fair proportions, supported an architrave of horizontal slabs, the overhanging portion of which formed a semi-arch over the sea. at intervals, under this natural shelter, there spread out vaulted entrances in beautiful curves, into which the waves came dashing with foam and spray. a few shafts of basalt, torn from their hold by the fury of tempests, lay along the soil like remains of an ancient temple, in ruins for ever fresh, and over which centuries passed without leaving a trace of age upon them. this was our last stage upon the earth. hans had exhibited great intelligence, and it gave me some little comfort to think then that he was not going to leave us. on arriving at the door of the rector's house, which was not different from the others, i saw a man shoeing a horse, hammer in hand, and with a leathern apron on. "_sællvertu,_" said the hunter. "_god dag,_" said the blacksmith in good danish. "_kyrkoherde,_" said hans, turning round to my uncle. "the rector," repeated the professor. "it seems, axel, that this good man is the rector." our guide in the meanwhile was making the 'kyrkoherde' aware of the position of things; when the latter, suspending his labours for a moment, uttered a sound no doubt understood between horses and farriers, and immediately a tall and ugly hag appeared from the hut. she must have been six feet at the least. i was in great alarm lest she should treat me to the icelandic kiss; but there was no occasion to fear, nor did she do the honours at all too gracefully. the visitors' room seemed to me the worst in the whole cabin. it was close, dirty, and evil smelling. but we had to be content. the rector did not to go in for antique hospitality. very far from it. before the day was over i saw that we had to do with a blacksmith, a fisherman, a hunter, a joiner, but not at all with a minister of the gospel. to be sure, it was a week-day; perhaps on a sunday he made amends. i don't mean to say anything against these poor priests, who after all are very wretched. they receive from the danish government a ridiculously small pittance, and they get from the parish the fourth part of the tithe, which does not come to sixty marks a year (about £ ). hence the necessity to work for their livelihood; but after fishing, hunting, and shoeing horses for any length of time, one soon gets into the ways and manners of fishermen, hunters, and farriers, and other rather rude and uncultivated people; and that evening i found out that temperance was not among the virtues that distinguished my host. my uncle soon discovered what sort of a man he had to do with; instead of a good and learned man he found a rude and coarse peasant. he therefore resolved to commence the grand expedition at once, and to leave this inhospitable parsonage. he cared nothing about fatigue, and resolved to spend some days upon the mountain. the preparations for our departure were therefore made the very day after our arrival at stapi. hans hired the services of three icelanders to do the duty of the horses in the transport of the burdens; but as soon as we had arrived at the crater these natives were to turn back and leave us to our own devices. this was to be clearly understood. my uncle now took the opportunity to explain to hans that it was his intention to explore the interior of the volcano to its farthest limits. hans merely nodded. there or elsewhere, down in the bowels of the earth, or anywhere on the surface, all was alike to him. for my own part the incidents of the journey had hitherto kept me amused, and made me forgetful of coming evils; but now my fears again were beginning to get the better of me. but what could i do? the place to resist the professor would have been hamburg, not the foot of snæfell. one thought, above all others, harassed and alarmed me; it was one calculated to shake firmer nerves than mine. now, thought i, here we are, about to climb snæfell. very good. we will explore the crater. very good, too, others have done as much without dying for it. but that is not all. if there is a way to penetrate into the very bowels of the island, if that ill-advised saknussemm has told a true tale, we shall lose our way amidst the deep subterranean passages of this volcano. now, there is no proof that snæfell is extinct. who can assure us that an eruption is not brewing at this very moment? does it follow that because the monster has slept since he must therefore never awake again? and if he wakes up presently, where shall we be? it was worth while debating this question, and i did debate it. i could not sleep for dreaming about eruptions. now, the part of ejected scoriae and ashes seemed to my mind a very rough one to act. so, at last, when i could hold out no longer, i resolved to lay the case before my uncle, as prudently and as cautiously as possible, just under the form of an almost impossible hypothesis. i went to him. i communicated my fears to him, and drew back a step to give him room for the explosion which i knew must follow. but i was mistaken. "i was thinking of that," he replied with great simplicity. what could those words mean?--was he actually going to listen to reason? was he contemplating the abandonment of his plans? this was too good to be true. after a few moments' silence, during which i dared not question him, he resumed: "i was thinking of that. ever since we arrived at stapi i have been occupied with the important question you have just opened, for we must not be guilty of imprudence." "no, indeed!" i replied with forcible emphasis. "for six hundred years snæfell has been dumb; but he may speak again. now, eruptions are always preceded by certain well-known phenomena. i have therefore examined the natives, i have studied external appearances, and i can assure you, axel, that there will be no eruption." at this positive affirmation i stood amazed and speechless. "you don't doubt my word?" said my uncle. "well, follow me." i obeyed like an automaton. coming out from the priest's house, the professor took a straight road, which, through an opening in the basaltic wall, led away from the sea. we were soon in the open country, if one may give that name to a vast extent of mounds of volcanic products. this tract seemed crushed under a rain of enormous ejected rocks of trap, basalt, granite, and all kinds of igneous rocks. here and there i could see puffs and jets of steam curling up into the air, called in icelandic 'reykir,' issuing from thermal springs, and indicating by their motion the volcanic energy underneath. this seemed to justify my fears: but i fell from the height of my new-born hopes when my uncle said: "you see all these volumes of steam, axel; well, they demonstrate that we have nothing to fear from the fury of a volcanic eruption." "am i to believe that?" i cried. "understand this clearly," added the professor. "at the approach of an eruption these jets would redouble their activity, but disappear altogether during the period of the eruption. for the elastic fluids, being no longer under pressure, go off by way of the crater instead of escaping by their usual passages through the fissures in the soil. therefore, if these vapours remain in their usual condition, if they display no augmentation of force, and if you add to this the observation that the wind and rain are not ceasing and being replaced by a still and heavy atmosphere, then you may affirm that no eruption is preparing." "but--" 'no more; that is sufficient. when science has uttered her voice, let babblers hold their peace.' i returned to the parsonage, very crestfallen. my uncle had beaten me with the weapons of science. still i had one hope left, and this was, that when we had reached the bottom of the crater it would be impossible, for want of a passage, to go deeper, in spite of all the saknussemm's in iceland. i spent that whole night in one constant nightmare; in the heart of a volcano, and from the deepest depths of the earth i saw myself tossed up amongst the interplanetary spaces under the form of an eruptive rock. the next day, june , hans was awaiting us with his companions carrying provisions, tools, and instruments; two iron pointed sticks, two rifles, and two shot belts were for my uncle and myself. hans, as a cautious man, had added to our luggage a leathern bottle full of water, which, with that in our flasks, would ensure us a supply of water for eight days. it was nine in the morning. the priest and his tall megæra were awaiting us at the door. we supposed they were standing there to bid us a kind farewell. but the farewell was put in the unexpected form of a heavy bill, in which everything was charged, even to the very air we breathed in the pastoral house, infected as it was. this worthy couple were fleecing us just as a swiss innkeeper might have done, and estimated their imperfect hospitality at the highest price. my uncle paid without a remark: a man who is starting for the centre of the earth need not be particular about a few rix dollars. this point being settled, hans gave the signal, and we soon left stapi behind us. chapter xv. snÆfell at last snæfell is , feet high. its double cone forms the limit of a trachytic belt which stands out distinctly in the mountain system of the island. from our starting point we could see the two peaks boldly projected against the dark grey sky; i could see an enormous cap of snow coming low down upon the giant's brow. we walked in single file, headed by the hunter, who ascended by narrow tracks, where two could not have gone abreast. there was therefore no room for conversation. after we had passed the basaltic wall of the fiord of stapi we passed over a vegetable fibrous peat bog, left from the ancient vegetation of this peninsula. the vast quantity of this unworked fuel would be sufficient to warm the whole population of iceland for a century; this vast turbary measured in certain ravines had in many places a depth of seventy feet, and presented layers of carbonized remains of vegetation alternating with thinner layers of tufaceous pumice. as a true nephew of the professor liedenbrock, and in spite of my dismal prospects, i could not help observing with interest the mineralogical curiosities which lay about me as in a vast museum, and i constructed for myself a complete geological account of iceland. this most curious island has evidently been projected from the bottom of the sea at a comparatively recent date. possibly, it may still be subject to gradual elevation. if this is the case, its origin may well be attributed to subterranean fires. therefore, in this case, the theory of sir humphry davy, saknussemm's document, and my uncle's theories would all go off in smoke. this hypothesis led me to examine with more attention the appearance of the surface, and i soon arrived at a conclusion as to the nature of the forces which presided at its birth. iceland, which is entirely devoid of alluvial soil, is wholly composed of volcanic tufa, that is to say, an agglomeration of porous rocks and stones. before the volcanoes broke out it consisted of trap rocks slowly upraised to the level of the sea by the action of central forces. the internal fires had not yet forced their way through. but at a later period a wide chasm formed diagonally from south-west to north-east, through which was gradually forced out the trachyte which was to form a mountain chain. no violence accompanied this change; the matter thrown out was in vast quantities, and the liquid material oozing out from the abysses of the earth slowly spread in extensive plains or in hillocky masses. to this period belong the felspar, syenites, and porphyries. but with the help of this outflow the thickness of the crust of the island increased materially, and therefore also its powers of resistance. it may easily be conceived what vast quantities of elastic gases, what masses of molten matter accumulated beneath its solid surface whilst no exit was practicable after the cooling of the trachytic crust. therefore a time would come when the elastic and explosive forces of the imprisoned gases would upheave this ponderous cover and drive out for themselves openings through tall chimneys. hence then the volcano would distend and lift up the crust, and then burst through a crater suddenly formed at the summit or thinnest part of the volcano. to the eruption succeeded other volcanic phenomena. through the outlets now made first escaped the ejected basalt of which the plain we had just left presented such marvellous specimens. we were moving over grey rocks of dense and massive formation, which in cooling had formed into hexagonal prisms. everywhere around us we saw truncated cones, formerly so many fiery mouths. after the exhaustion of the basalt, the volcano, the power of which grew by the extinction of the lesser craters, supplied an egress to lava, ashes, and scoriae, of which i could see lengthened screes streaming down the sides of the mountain like flowing hair. such was the succession of phenomena which produced iceland, all arising from the action of internal fire; and to suppose that the mass within did not still exist in a state of liquid incandescence was absurd; and nothing could surpass the absurdity of fancying that it was possible to reach the earth's centre. so i felt a little comforted as we advanced to the assault of snæfell. the way was growing more and more arduous, the ascent steeper and steeper; the loose fragments of rock trembled beneath us, and the utmost care was needed to avoid dangerous falls. hans went on as quietly as if he were on level ground; sometimes he disappeared altogether behind the huge blocks, then a shrill whistle would direct us on our way to him. sometimes he would halt, pick up a few bits of stone, build them up into a recognisable form, and thus made landmarks to guide us in our way back. a very wise precaution in itself, but, as things turned out, quite useless. three hours' fatiguing march had only brought us to the base of the mountain. there hans bid us come to a halt, and a hasty breakfast was served out. my uncle swallowed two mouthfuls at a time to get on faster. but, whether he liked it or not, this was a rest as well as a breakfast hour and he had to wait till it pleased our guide to move on, which came to pass in an hour. the three icelanders, just as taciturn as their comrade the hunter, never spoke, and ate their breakfasts in silence. we were now beginning to scale the steep sides of snæfell. its snowy summit, by an optical illusion not unfrequent in mountains, seemed close to us, and yet how many weary hours it took to reach it! the stones, adhering by no soil or fibrous roots of vegetation, rolled away from under our feet, and rushed down the precipice below with the swiftness of an avalanche. at some places the flanks of the mountain formed an angle with the horizon of at least degrees; it was impossible to climb them, and these stony cliffs had to be tacked round, not without great difficulty. then we helped each other with our sticks. i must admit that my uncle kept as close to me as he could; he never lost sight of me, and in many straits his arm furnished me with a powerful support. he himself seemed to possess an instinct for equilibrium, for he never stumbled. the icelanders, though burdened with our loads, climbed with the agility of mountaineers. to judge by the distant appearance of the summit of snæfell, it would have seemed too steep to ascend on our side. fortunately, after an hour of fatigue and athletic exercises, in the midst of the vast surface of snow presented by the hollow between the two peaks, a kind of staircase appeared unexpectedly which greatly facilitated our ascent. it was formed by one of those torrents of stones flung up by the eruptions, called 'sting' by the icelanders. if this torrent had not been arrested in its fall by the formation of the sides of the mountain, it would have gone on to the sea and formed more islands. such as it was, it did us good service. the steepness increased, but these stone steps allowed us to rise with facility, and even with such rapidity that, having rested for a moment while my companions continued their ascent, i perceived them already reduced by distance to microscopic dimensions. at seven we had ascended the two thousand steps of this grand staircase, and we had attained a bulge in the mountain, a kind of bed on which rested the cone proper of the crater. three thousand two hundred feet below us stretched the sea. we had passed the limit of perpetual snow, which, on account of the moisture of the climate, is at a greater elevation in iceland than the high latitude would give reason to suppose. the cold was excessively keen. the wind was blowing violently. i was exhausted. the professor saw that my limbs were refusing to perform their office, and in spite of his impatience he decided on stopping. he therefore spoke to the hunter, who shook his head, saying: "_ofvanför._" "it seems we must go higher," said my uncle. then he asked hans for his reason. "_mistour,_" replied the guide. "_ja mistour,_" said one of the icelanders in a tone of alarm. "what does that word mean?" i asked uneasily. "look!" said my uncle. i looked down upon the plain. an immense column of pulverized pumice, sand and dust was rising with a whirling circular motion like a waterspout; the wind was lashing it on to that side of snæfell where we were holding on; this dense veil, hung across the sun, threw a deep shadow over the mountain. if that huge revolving pillar sloped down, it would involve us in its whirling eddies. this phenomenon, which is not unfrequent when the wind blows from the glaciers, is called in icelandic 'mistour.' "_hastigt! hastigt!_" cried our guide. without knowing danish i understood at once that we must follow hans at the top of our speed. he began to circle round the cone of the crater, but in a diagonal direction so as to facilitate our progress. presently the dust storm fell upon the mountain, which quivered under the shock; the loose stones, caught with the irresistible blasts of wind, flew about in a perfect hail as in an eruption. happily we were on the opposite side, and sheltered from all harm. but for the precaution of our guide, our mangled bodies, torn and pounded into fragments, would have been carried afar like the ruins hurled along by some unknown meteor. yet hans did not think it prudent to spend the night upon the sides of the cone. we continued our zigzag climb. the fifteen hundred remaining feet took us five hours to clear; the circuitous route, the diagonal and the counter marches, must have measured at least three leagues. i could stand it no longer. i was yielding to the effects of hunger and cold. the rarefied air scarcely gave play to the action of my lungs. at last, at eleven in the sunlight night, the summit of snæfell was reached, and before going in for shelter into the crater i had time to observe the midnight sun, at his lowest point, gilding with his pale rays the island that slept at my feet. chapter xvi. boldly down the crater supper was rapidly devoured, and the little company housed themselves as best they could. the bed was hard, the shelter not very substantial, and our position an anxious one, at five thousand feet above the sea level. yet i slept particularly well; it was one of the best nights i had ever had, and i did not even dream. next morning we awoke half frozen by the sharp keen air, but with the light of a splendid sun. i rose from my granite bed and went out to enjoy the magnificent spectacle that lay unrolled before me. i stood on the very summit of the southernmost of snæfell's peaks. the range of the eye extended over the whole island. by an optical law which obtains at all great heights, the shores seemed raised and the centre depressed. it seemed as if one of helbesmer's raised maps lay at my feet. i could see deep valleys intersecting each other in every direction, precipices like low walls, lakes reduced to ponds, rivers abbreviated into streams. on my right were numberless glaciers and innumerable peaks, some plumed with feathery clouds of smoke. the undulating surface of these endless mountains, crested with sheets of snow, reminded one of a stormy sea. if i looked westward, there the ocean lay spread out in all its magnificence, like a mere continuation of those flock-like summits. the eye could hardly tell where the snowy ridges ended and the foaming waves began. i was thus steeped in the marvellous ecstasy which all high summits develop in the mind; and now without giddiness, for i was beginning to be accustomed to these sublime aspects of nature. my dazzled eyes were bathed in the bright flood of the solar rays. i was forgetting where and who i was, to live the life of elves and sylphs, the fanciful creation of scandinavian superstitions. i felt intoxicated with the sublime pleasure of lofty elevations without thinking of the profound abysses into which i was shortly to be plunged. but i was brought back to the realities of things by the arrival of hans and the professor, who joined me on the summit. my uncle pointed out to me in the far west a light steam or mist, a semblance of land, which bounded the distant horizon of waters. "greenland!" said he. "greenland?" i cried. "yes; we are only thirty-five leagues from it; and during thaws the white bears, borne by the ice fields from the north, are carried even into iceland. but never mind that. here we are at the top of snæfell and here are two peaks, one north and one south. hans will tell us the name of that on which we are now standing." the question being put, hans replied: "scartaris." my uncle shot a triumphant glance at me. "now for the crater!" he cried. the crater of snæfell resembled an inverted cone, the opening of which might be half a league in diameter. its depth appeared to be about two thousand feet. imagine the aspect of such a reservoir, brim full and running over with liquid fire amid the rolling thunder. the bottom of the funnel was about feet in circuit, so that the gentle slope allowed its lower brim to be reached without much difficulty. involuntarily i compared the whole crater to an enormous erected mortar, and the comparison put me in a terrible fright. "what madness," i thought, "to go down into a mortar, perhaps a loaded mortar, to be shot up into the air at a moment's notice!" but i did not try to back out of it. hans with perfect coolness resumed the lead, and i followed him without a word. in order to facilitate the descent, hans wound his way down the cone by a spiral path. our route lay amidst eruptive rocks, some of which, shaken out of their loosened beds, rushed bounding down the abyss, and in their fall awoke echoes remarkable for their loud and well-defined sharpness. in certain parts of the cone there were glaciers. here hans advanced only with extreme precaution, sounding his way with his iron-pointed pole, to discover any crevasses in it. at particularly dubious passages we were obliged to connect ourselves with each other by a long cord, in order that any man who missed his footing might be held up by his companions. this solid formation was prudent, but did not remove all danger. yet, notwithstanding the difficulties of the descent, down steeps unknown to the guide, the journey was accomplished without accidents, except the loss of a coil of rope, which escaped from the hands of an icelander, and took the shortest way to the bottom of the abyss. at mid-day we arrived. i raised my head and saw straight above me the upper aperture of the cone, framing a bit of sky of very small circumference, but almost perfectly round. just upon the edge appeared the snowy peak of saris, standing out sharp and clear against endless space. at the bottom of the crater were three chimneys, through which, in its eruptions, snæfell had driven forth fire and lava from its central furnace. each of these chimneys was a hundred feet in diameter. they gaped before us right in our path. i had not the courage to look down either of them. but professor liedenbrock had hastily surveyed all three; he was panting, running from one to the other, gesticulating, and uttering incoherent expressions. hans and his comrades, seated upon loose lava rocks, looked at him with as much wonder as they knew how to express, and perhaps taking him for an escaped lunatic. suddenly my uncle uttered a cry. i thought his foot must have slipped and that he had fallen down one of the holes. but, no; i saw him, with arms outstretched and legs straddling wide apart, erect before a granite rock that stood in the centre of the crater, just like a pedestal made ready to receive a statue of pluto. he stood like a man stupefied, but the stupefaction soon gave way to delirious rapture. "axel, axel," he cried. "come, come!" i ran. hans and the icelanders never stirred. "look!" cried the professor. and, sharing his astonishment, but i think not his joy, i read on the western face of the block, in runic characters, half mouldered away with lapse of ages, this thrice-accursed name: [at this point a runic text appears] "arne saknussemm!" replied my uncle. "do you yet doubt?" i made no answer; and i returned in silence to my lava seat in a state of utter speechless consternation. here was crushing evidence. how long i remained plunged in agonizing reflections i cannot tell; all that i know is, that on raising my head again, i saw only my uncle and hans at the bottom of the crater. the icelanders had been dismissed, and they were now descending the outer slopes of snæfell to return to stapi. hans slept peaceably at the foot of a rock, in a lava bed, where he had found a suitable couch for himself; but my uncle was pacing around the bottom of the crater like a wild beast in a cage. i had neither the wish nor the strength to rise, and following the guide's example i went off into an unhappy slumber, fancying i could hear ominous noises or feel tremblings within the recesses of the mountain. thus the first night in the crater passed away. the next morning, a grey, heavy, cloudy sky seemed to droop over the summit of the cone. i did not know this first from the appearances of nature, but i found it out by my uncle's impetuous wrath. i soon found out the cause, and hope dawned again in my heart. for this reason. of the three ways open before us, one had been taken by saknussemm. the indications of the learned icelander hinted at in the cryptogram, pointed to this fact that the shadow of scartaris came to touch that particular way during the latter days of the month of june. that sharp peak might hence be considered as the gnomon of a vast sun dial, the shadow projected from which on a certain day would point out the road to the centre of the earth. now, no sun no shadow, and therefore no guide. here was june . if the sun was clouded for six days we must postpone our visit till next year. my limited powers of description would fail, were i to attempt a picture of the professor's angry impatience. the day wore on, and no shadow came to lay itself along the bottom of the crater. hans did not move from the spot he had selected; yet he must be asking himself what were we waiting for, if he asked himself anything at all. my uncle spoke not a word to me. his gaze, ever directed upwards, was lost in the grey and misty space beyond. on the th nothing yet. rain mingled with snow was falling all day long. hans built a hut of pieces of lava. i felt a malicious pleasure in watching the thousand rills and cascades that came tumbling down the sides of the cone, and the deafening continuous din awaked by every stone against which they bounded. my uncle's rage knew no bounds. it was enough to irritate a meeker man than he; for it was foundering almost within the port. but heaven never sends unmixed grief, and for professor liedenbrock there was a satisfaction in store proportioned to his desperate anxieties. the next day the sky was again overcast; but on the th of june, the last day but one of the month, with the change of the moon came a change of weather. the sun poured a flood of light down the crater. every hillock, every rock and stone, every projecting surface, had its share of the beaming torrent, and threw its shadow on the ground. amongst them all, scartaris laid down his sharp-pointed angular shadow which began to move slowly in the opposite direction to that of the radiant orb. my uncle turned too, and followed it. at noon, being at its least extent, it came and softly fell upon the edge of the middle chimney. "there it is! there it is!" shouted the professor. "now for the centre of the globe!" he added in danish. i looked at hans, to hear what he would say. "_forüt!_" was his tranquil answer. "forward!" replied my uncle. it was thirteen minutes past one. chapter xvii. vertical descent now began our real journey. hitherto our toil had overcome all difficulties, now difficulties would spring up at every step. i had not yet ventured to look down the bottomless pit into which i was about to take a plunge. the supreme hour had come. i might now either share in the enterprise or refuse to move forward. but i was ashamed to recoil in the presence of the hunter. hans accepted the enterprise with such calmness, such indifference, such perfect disregard of any possible danger that i blushed at the idea of being less brave than he. if i had been alone i might have once more tried the effect of argument; but in the presence of the guide i held my peace; my heart flew back to my sweet virlandaise, and i approached the central chimney. i have already mentioned that it was a hundred feet in diameter, and three hundred feet round. i bent over a projecting rock and gazed down. my hair stood on end with terror. the bewildering feeling of vacuity laid hold upon me. i felt my centre of gravity shifting its place, and giddiness mounting into my brain like drunkenness. there is nothing more treacherous than this attraction down deep abysses. i was just about to drop down, when a hand laid hold of me. it was that of hans. i suppose i had not taken as many lessons on gulf exploration as i ought to have done in the frelsers kirk at copenhagen. but, however short was my examination of this well, i had taken some account of its conformation. its almost perpendicular walls were bristling with innumerable projections which would facilitate the descent. but if there was no want of steps, still there was no rail. a rope fastened to the edge of the aperture might have helped us down. but how were we to unfasten it, when arrived at the other end? my uncle employed a very simple expedient to obviate this difficulty. he uncoiled a cord of the thickness of a finger, and four hundred feet long; first he dropped half of it down, then he passed it round a lava block that projected conveniently, and threw the other half down the chimney. each of us could then descend by holding with the hand both halves of the rope, which would not be able to unroll itself from its hold; when two hundred feet down, it would be easy to get possession of the whole of the rope by letting one end go and pulling down by the other. then the exercise would go on again _ad infinitum_. "now," said my uncle, after having completed these preparations, "now let us look to our loads. i will divide them into three lots; each of us will strap one upon his back. i mean only fragile articles." of course, we were not included under that head. "hans," said he, "will take charge of the tools and a portion of the provisions; you, axel, will take another third of the provisions, and the arms; and i will take the rest of the provisions and the delicate instruments." "but," said i, "the clothes, and that mass of ladders and ropes, what is to become of them?" "they will go down by themselves." "how so?" i asked. "you will see presently." my uncle was always willing to employ magnificent resources. obeying orders, hans tied all the non-fragile articles in one bundle, corded them firmly, and sent them bodily down the gulf before us. i listened to the dull thuds of the descending bale. my uncle, leaning over the abyss, followed the descent of the luggage with a satisfied nod, and only rose erect when he had quite lost sight of it. "very well, now it is our turn." now i ask any sensible man if it was possible to hear those words without a shudder. the professor fastened his package of instruments upon his shoulders; hans took the tools; i took the arms: and the descent commenced in the following order; hans, my uncle, and myself. it was effected in profound silence, broken only by the descent of loosened stones down the dark gulf. i dropped as it were, frantically clutching the double cord with one hand and buttressing myself from the wall with the other by means of my stick. one idea overpowered me almost, fear lest the rock should give way from which i was hanging. this cord seemed a fragile thing for three persons to be suspended from. i made as little use of it as possible, performing wonderful feats of equilibrium upon the lava projections which my foot seemed to catch hold of like a hand. when one of these slippery steps shook under the heavier form of hans, he said in his tranquil voice: "_gif akt!_" "attention!" repeated my uncle. in half an hour we were standing upon the surface of a rock jammed in across the chimney from one side to the other. hans pulled the rope by one of its ends, the other rose in the air; after passing the higher rock it came down again, bringing with it a rather dangerous shower of bits of stone and lava. leaning over the edge of our narrow standing ground, i observed that the bottom of the hole was still invisible. the same manoeuvre was repeated with the cord, and half an hour after we had descended another two hundred feet. i don't suppose the maddest geologist under such circumstances would have studied the nature of the rocks that we were passing. i am sure i did trouble my head about them. pliocene, miocene, eocene, cretaceous, jurassic, triassic, permian, carboniferous, devonian, silurian, or primitive was all one to me. but the professor, no doubt, was pursuing his observations or taking notes, for in one of our halts he said to me: "the farther i go the more confidence i feel. the order of these volcanic formations affords the strongest confirmation to the theories of davy. we are now among the primitive rocks, upon which the chemical operations took place which are produced by the contact of elementary bases of metals with water. i repudiate the notion of central heat altogether. we shall see further proof of that very soon." no variation, always the same conclusion. of course, i was not inclined to argue. my silence was taken for consent and the descent went on. another three hours, and i saw no bottom to the chimney yet. when i lifted my head i perceived the gradual contraction of its aperture. its walls, by a gentle incline, were drawing closer to each other, and it was beginning to grow darker. still we kept descending. it seemed to me that the falling stones were meeting with an earlier resistance, and that the concussion gave a more abrupt and deadened sound. as i had taken care to keep an exact account of our manoeuvres with the rope, which i knew that we had repeated fourteen times, each descent occupying half an hour, the conclusion was easy that we had been seven hours, plus fourteen quarters of rest, making ten hours and a half. we had started at one, it must therefore now be eleven o'clock; and the depth to which we had descended was fourteen times feet, or , feet. at this moment i heard the voice of hans. "halt!" he cried. i stopped short just as i was going to place my feet upon my uncle's head. "we are there," he cried. "where?" said i, stepping near to him. "at the bottom of the perpendicular chimney," he answered. "is there no way farther?" "yes; there is a sort of passage which inclines to the right. we will see about that to-morrow. let us have our supper, and go to sleep." the darkness was not yet complete. the provision case was opened; we refreshed ourselves, and went to sleep as well as we could upon a bed of stones and lava fragments. when lying on my back, i opened my eyes and saw a bright sparkling point of light at the extremity of the gigantic tube , feet long, now a vast telescope. it was a star which, seen from this depth, had lost all scintillation, and which by my computation should be ; _ursa minor._ then i fell fast asleep. chapter xviii. the wonders of terrestrial depths at eight in the morning a ray of daylight came to wake us up. the thousand shining surfaces of lava on the walls received it on its passage, and scattered it like a shower of sparks. there was light enough to distinguish surrounding objects. "well, axel, what do you say to it?" cried my uncle, rubbing his hands. "did you ever spend a quieter night in our little house at königsberg? no noise of cart wheels, no cries of basket women, no boatmen shouting!" "no doubt it is very quiet at the bottom of this well, but there is something alarming in the quietness itself." "now come!" my uncle cried; "if you are frightened already, what will you be by and by? we have not gone a single inch yet into the bowels of the earth." "what do you mean?" "i mean that we have only reached the level of the island, long vertical tube, which terminates at the mouth of the crater, has its lower end only at the level of the sea." "are you sure of that?" "quite sure. consult the barometer." in fact, the mercury, which had risen in the instrument as fast as we descended, had stopped at twenty-nine inches. "you see," said the professor, "we have now only the pressure of our atmosphere, and i shall be glad when the aneroid takes the place of the barometer." and in truth this instrument would become useless as soon as the weight of the atmosphere should exceed the pressure ascertained at the level of the sea. "but," i said, "is there not reason to fear that this ever-increasing pressure will become at last very painful to bear?" "no; we shall descend at a slow rate, and our lungs will become inured to a denser atmosphere. aeronauts find the want of air as they rise to high elevations, but we shall perhaps have too much: of the two, this is what i should prefer. don't let us lose a moment. where is the bundle we sent down before us?" i then remembered that we had searched for it in vain the evening before. my uncle questioned hans, who, after having examined attentively with the eye of a huntsman, replied: "_der huppe!_" "up there." and so it was. the bundle had been caught by a projection a hundred feet above us. immediately the icelander climbed up like a cat, and in a few minutes the package was in our possession. "now," said my uncle, "let us breakfast; but we must lay in a good stock, for we don't know how long we may have to go on." the biscuit and extract of meat were washed down with a draught of water mingled with a little gin. breakfast over, my uncle drew from his pocket a small notebook, intended for scientific observations. he consulted his instruments, and recorded: "monday, july . "chronometer, . a.m.; barometer, in.; thermometer, ° ( ° f.). direction, e.s.e." this last observation applied to the dark gallery, and was indicated by the compass. "now, axel," cried the professor with enthusiasm, "now we are really going into the interior of the earth. at this precise moment the journey commences." so saying, my uncle took in one hand ruhmkorff's apparatus, which was hanging from his neck; and with the other he formed an electric communication with the coil in the lantern, and a sufficiently bright light dispersed the darkness of the passage. hans carried the other apparatus, which was also put into action. this ingenious application of electricity would enable us to go on for a long time by creating an artificial light even in the midst of the most inflammable gases. "now, march!" cried my uncle. each shouldered his package. hans drove before him the load of cords and clothes; and, myself walking last, we entered the gallery. at the moment of becoming engulfed in this dark gallery, i raised my head, and saw for the last time through the length of that vast tube the sky of iceland, which i was never to behold again. the lava, in the last eruption of , had forced a passage through this tunnel. it still lined the walls with a thick and glistening coat. the electric light was here intensified a hundredfold by reflection. the only difficulty in proceeding lay in not sliding too fast down an incline of about forty-five degrees; happily certain asperities and a few blisterings here and there formed steps, and we descended, letting our baggage slip before us from the end of a long rope. but that which formed steps under our feet became stalactites overhead. the lava, which was porous in many places, had formed a surface covered with small rounded blisters; crystals of opaque quartz, set with limpid tears of glass, and hanging like clustered chandeliers from the vaulted roof, seemed as it were to kindle and form a sudden illumination as we passed on our way. it seemed as if the genii of the depths were lighting up their palace to receive their terrestrial guests. "it is magnificent!" i cried spontaneously. "my uncle, what a sight! don't you admire those blending hues of lava, passing from reddish brown to bright yellow by imperceptible shades? and these crystals are just like globes of light." "ali, you think so, do you, axel, my boy? well, you will see greater splendours than these, i hope. now let us march: march!" he had better have said slide, for we did nothing but drop down the steep inclines. it was the facifs _descensus averni_ of virgil. the compass, which i consulted frequently, gave our direction as south-east with inflexible steadiness. this lava stream deviated neither to the right nor to the left. yet there was no sensible increase of temperature. this justified davy's theory, and more than once i consulted the thermometer with surprise. two hours after our departure it only marked ° ( ° fahr.), an increase of only °. this gave reason for believing that our descent was more horizontal than vertical. as for the exact depth reached, it was very easy to ascertain that; the professor measured accurately the angles of deviation and inclination on the road, but he kept the results to himself. about eight in the evening he signalled to stop. hans sat down at once. the lamps were hung upon a projection in the lava; we were in a sort of cavern where there was plenty of air. certain puffs of air reached us. what atmospheric disturbance was the cause of them? i could not answer that question at the moment. hunger and fatigue made me incapable of reasoning. a descent of seven hours consecutively is not made without considerable expenditure of strength. i was exhausted. the order to 'halt' therefore gave me pleasure. hans laid our provisions upon a block of lava, and we ate with a good appetite. but one thing troubled me, our supply of water was half consumed. my uncle reckoned upon a fresh supply from subterranean sources, but hitherto we had met with none. i could not help drawing his attention to this circumstance. "are you surprised at this want of springs?" he said. "more than that, i am anxious about it; we have only water enough for five days." "don't be uneasy, axel, we shall find more than we want." "when?" "when we have left this bed of lava behind us. how could springs break through such walls as these?" "but perhaps this passage runs to a very great depth. it seems to me that we have made no great progress vertically." "why do you suppose that?" "because if we had gone deep into the crust of earth, we should have encountered greater heat." "according to your system," said my uncle. "but what does the thermometer say?" "hardly fifteen degrees ( ° fahr), nine degrees only since our departure." "well, what is your conclusion?" "this is my conclusion. according to exact observations, the increase of temperature in the interior of the globe advances at the rate of one degree ( / ° fahr.) for every hundred feet. but certain local conditions may modify this rate. thus at yakoutsk in siberia the increase of a degree is ascertained to be reached every feet. this difference depends upon the heat-conducting power of the rocks. moreover, in the neighbourhood of an extinct volcano, through gneiss, it has been observed that the increase of a degree is only attained at every feet. let us therefore assume this last hypothesis as the most suitable to our situation, and calculate." "well, do calculate, my boy." "nothing is easier," said i, putting down figures in my note book. "nine times a hundred and twenty-five feet gives a depth of eleven hundred and twenty-five feet." "very accurate indeed." "well?" "by my observation we are at , feet below the level of the sea." "is that possible?" "yes, or figures are of no use." the professor's calculations were quite correct. we had already attained a depth of six thousand feet beyond that hitherto reached by the foot of man, such as the mines of kitz bahl in tyrol, and those of wuttembourg in bohemia. the temperature, which ought to have been ° ( ° fahr.) was scarcely ° ( ° fahr.). here was cause for reflection. chapter xix. geological studies in situ next day, tuesday, june , at a.m., the descent began again. we were still following the gallery of lava, a real natural staircase, and as gently sloping as those inclined planes which in some old houses are still found instead of flights of steps. and so we went on until . , the, precise moment when we overtook hans, who had stopped. "ah! here we are," exclaimed my uncle, "at the very end of the chimney." i looked around me. we were standing at the intersection of two roads, both dark and narrow. which were we to take? this was a difficulty. still my uncle refused to admit an appearance of hesitation, either before me or the guide; he pointed out the eastern tunnel, and we were soon all three in it. besides there would have been interminable hesitation before this choice of roads; for since there was no indication whatever to guide our choice, we were obliged to trust to chance. the slope of this gallery was scarcely perceptible, and its sections very unequal. sometimes we passed a series of arches succeeding each other like the majestic arcades of a gothic cathedral. here the architects of the middle ages might have found studies for every form of the sacred art which sprang from the development of the pointed arch. a mile farther we had to bow our heads under corniced elliptic arches in the romanesque style; and massive pillars standing out from the wall bent under the spring of the vault that rested heavily upon them. in other places this magnificence gave way to narrow channels between low structures which looked like beaver's huts, and we had to creep along through extremely narrow passages. the heat was perfectly bearable. involuntarily i began to think of its heat when the lava thrown out by snæfell was boiling and working through this now silent road. i imagined the torrents of fire hurled back at every angle in the gallery, and the accumulation of intensely heated vapours in the midst of this confined channel. i only hope, thought i, that this so-called extinct volcano won't take a fancy in his old age to begin his sports again! i abstained from communicating these fears to professor liedenbrock. he would never have understood them at all. he had but one idea--forward! he walked, he slid, he scrambled, he tumbled, with a persistency which one could not but admire. by six in the evening, after a not very fatiguing walk, we had gone two leagues south, but scarcely a quarter of a mile down. my uncle said it was time to go to sleep. we ate without talking, and went 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 neither cold nor intrusive visits to fear. travellers who penetrate into the wilds of central africa, and into the pathless forests of the new world, are obliged to watch over each other by night. but we enjoyed absolute safety and utter seclusion; no savages or wild beasts infested these silent depths. next morning, we awoke fresh and in good spirits. the road was resumed. as the day before, we followed the path of the lava. it was impossible to tell what rocks we were passing: the tunnel, instead of tending lower, approached more and more nearly to a horizontal direction, i even fancied a slight rise. but about ten this upward tendency became so evident, and therefore so fatiguing, that i was obliged 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 other way, and at this rate we shall soon arrive upon the level soil of iceland." the professor nodded slowly and uneasily like a man that declines to be convinced. i tried to resume the conversation. he answered not a word, and gave the signal for a start. i saw that his silence was nothing but ill-humour. still i had courageously shouldered my burden again, and was rapidly following hans, whom my uncle preceded. i was anxious not to be left behind. my greatest care was not to lose sight of my companions. i shuddered at the thought of being lost in the mazes of this vast subterranean labyrinth. besides, if the ascending road did become steeper, i was comforted with the thought that it was bringing us nearer to the surface. there was hope in this. every step confirmed me in it, and i was rejoicing at the thought of meeting my little gräuben again. by mid-day there was a change in the appearance of this wall of the gallery. i noticed it by a diminution of the amount of light reflected from the sides; solid rock was appearing in the place of the lava coating. the mass was composed of inclined and sometimes vertical strata. we were passing through rocks of the transition or silurian [ ] system. "it is evident," i cried, "the marine deposits formed in the second period, these shales, limestones, and sandstones. we are turning away from the primary granite. we are just as if we were people of hamburg going to lübeck by way of hanover!" i had better have kept my observations to myself. but my geological instinct was stronger than my prudence, and uncle liedenbrock heard my exclamation. "what's that you are saying?" he asked. "see," i said, pointing to the varied series of sandstones and limestones, 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 the gallery. i expected some signs of astonishment; but he spoke not a word, and went on. had he understood me or not? did he refuse to admit, out of self-love as an uncle and a philosopher, that he had mistaken his way when he chose the eastern tunnel? or was he determined to examine this passage to its farthest extremity? it was evident that we had left the lava path, and that this road could not possibly lead to the extinct furnace of snæfell. yet i asked myself if i was not depending too much on this change in the rock. might i not myself be mistaken? were we really crossing the layers of rock which overlie the granite foundation? [ ]the name given by sir roderick murchison to a vast series of fossiliferous strata, which lies between the non-fossiliferous slaty schists below and the old red sandstone above. the system is well developed in the region of shropshire, etc., once inhabited by the silures under caractacus, or caradoc. (tr.) if i am right, i thought, i must soon find some fossil remains of primitive life; and then we must yield to evidence. i will look. i had not gone a hundred paces before incontestable proofs presented themselves. it could not be otherwise, for in the silurian age the seas 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 and shells. in the walls were distinct impressions of fucoids and lycopodites. professor liedenbrock could not be mistaken, i thought, and yet he pushed on, with, i suppose, his eyes resolutely shut. this was only invincible obstinacy. i could hold out no longer. i picked up a perfectly formed shell, which had belonged to an animal not 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 an extinct species called a trilobite. nothing more." "but don't you conclude--?" "just what you conclude yourself. yes; i do, perfectly. we have left the granite and the lava. it is possible that i may be mistaken. but i cannot be sure of that until i have reached the very end of this gallery." "you are right in doing this, my uncle, and i should quite approve of your determination, if there were not a danger threatening us nearer and nearer." "what danger?" "the want of water." "well, axel, we will put ourselves upon rations." chapter xx. the first signs of distress in fact, we had to ration ourselves. our provision of water could not last more than three days. i found that out for certain when supper-time came. and, to our sorrow, we had little reason to expect to find a spring in these transition beds. the whole of the next day the gallery opened before us its endless arcades. we moved on almost without a word. hans' silence seemed to be infecting us. the road was now not ascending, at least not perceptibly. sometimes, even, it seemed to have a slight fall. but this tendency, which was very trifling, could not do anything to reassure the professor; for there was no change in the beds, and the transitional characteristics became more and more decided. the electric light was reflected in sparkling splendour from the schist, limestone, and old red sandstone of the walls. it might have been thought that we were passing through a section of wales, of which an ancient people gave its name to this system. specimens of magnificent marbles clothed the walls, some of a greyish agate fantastically veined with white, others of rich crimson or yellow dashed with splotches of red; then came dark cherry-coloured marbles relieved by the lighter tints of limestone. the greater part of these bore impressions of primitive organisms. creation had evidently advanced since the day before. instead of rudimentary trilobites, i noticed remains of a more perfect order of beings, amongst others ganoid fishes and some of those sauroids in which palaeontologists have discovered the earliest reptile forms. the devonian seas were peopled by animals of these species, and deposited them by thousands in the rocks of the newer formation. it was evident that we were ascending that scale of animal life in which man fills the highest place. but professor liedenbrock seemed not to notice it. he was awaiting one of two events, either the appearance of a vertical well opening before his feet, down which our descent might be resumed, or that of some obstacle which should effectually turn us back on our own footsteps. but evening came and neither wish was gratified. on friday, after a night during which i felt pangs of thirst, our little troop again plunged into the winding passages of the gallery. after ten hours' walking i observed a singular deadening of the reflection of our lamps from the side walls. the marble, the schist, the limestone, and the sandstone were giving way to a dark and lustreless lining. at one moment, the tunnel becoming very narrow, i leaned against the wall. when i removed my hand it was black. i looked nearer, and found we were in a coal formation. "a coal mine!" i cried. "a mine without miners," my uncle replied. "who knows?" i asked. "i know," the professor pronounced decidedly, "i am certain that this gallery driven through beds of coal was never pierced by the hand of man. but whether it be the hand of nature or not does not matter. supper time is come; let us sup." hans prepared some food. i scarcely ate, and i swallowed down the few drops of water rationed out to me. one flask half full was all we had left to slake the thirst of three men. after their meal my two companions laid themselves down upon their rugs, and found in sleep a solace for their fatigue. but i could not sleep, and i counted every hour until morning. on saturday, at six, we started afresh. in twenty minutes we reached a vast open space; i then knew that the hand of man had not hollowed out this mine; the vaults would have been shored up, and, as it was, they seemed to be held up by a miracle of equilibrium. this cavern was about a hundred feet wide and a hundred and fifty in height. a large mass had been rent asunder by a subterranean disturbance. yielding to some vast power from below it had broken asunder, leaving this great hollow into which human beings were now penetrating for the first time. the whole history of the carboniferous period was written upon these gloomy walls, and a geologist might with ease trace all its diverse phases. the beds of coal were separated by strata of sandstone or compact clays, and appeared crushed under the weight of overlying strata. at the age of the world which preceded the secondary period, the earth was clothed with immense vegetable forms, the product of the double influence of tropical heat and constant moisture; a vapoury atmosphere surrounded the earth, still veiling the direct rays of the sun. thence arises the conclusion that the high temperature then existing was due to some other source than the heat of the sun. perhaps even the orb of day may not have been ready yet to play the splendid part he now acts. there were no 'climates' as yet, and a torrid heat, equal from pole to equator, was spread over the whole surface of the globe. whence this heat? was it from the interior of the earth? notwithstanding the theories of professor liedenbrock, a violent heat did at that time brood within the body of the spheroid. its action was felt to the very last coats of the terrestrial crust; the plants, unacquainted with the beneficent influences of the sun, yielded neither flowers nor scent. but their roots drew vigorous life from the burning soil of the early days of this planet. there were but few trees. herbaceous plants alone existed. there were tall grasses, ferns, lycopods, besides sigillaria, asterophyllites, now scarce plants, but then the species might be counted by thousands. the coal measures owe their origin to this period of profuse vegetation. the yet elastic and yielding crust of the earth obeyed the fluid forces beneath. thence innumerable fissures and depressions. the plants, sunk underneath the waters, formed by degrees into vast accumulated masses. then came the chemical action of nature; in the depths of the seas the vegetable accumulations first became peat; then, acted upon by generated gases and the heat of fermentation, they underwent a process of complete mineralization. thus were formed those immense coalfields, which nevertheless, are not inexhaustible, and which three centuries at the present accelerated rate of consumption will exhaust unless the industrial world will devise a remedy. these reflections came into my mind whilst i was contemplating the mineral wealth stored up in this portion of the globe. these no doubt, i thought, will never be discovered; the working of such deep mines would involve too large an outlay, and where would be the use as long as coal is yet spread far and wide near the surface? such as my eyes behold these virgin stores, such they will be when this world comes to an end. but still we marched on, and i alone was forgetting the length of the way by losing myself in the midst of geological contemplations. the temperature remained what it had been during our passage through the lava and schists. only my sense of smell was forcibly affected by an odour of protocarburet of hydrogen. i immediately recognised in this gallery the presence of a considerable quantity of the dangerous gas called by miners firedamp, the explosion of which has often occasioned such dreadful catastrophes. happily, our light was from ruhmkorff's ingenious apparatus. if unfortunately we had explored this gallery with torches, a terrible explosion would have put an end to travelling and travellers at one stroke. this excursion through the coal mine lasted till night. my uncle scarcely could restrain his impatience at the horizontal road. the darkness, always deep twenty yards before us, prevented us from estimating the length of the gallery; and i was beginning to think it must be endless, when suddenly at six o'clock a wall very unexpectedly stood before us. right or left, top or bottom, there was no road farther; we were at the end of a blind alley. "very well, it's all right!" cried my uncle, "now, at any rate, we shall know what we are about. we are not in saknussemm's road, and all we have to do is to go back. let us take a night's rest, and in three days we shall get to the fork in the road." "yes," said i, "if we have any strength left." "why not?" "because to-morrow we shall have no water." "nor courage either?" asked my uncle severely. i dared make no answer. chapter xxi. compassion fuses the professor's heart next day we started early. we had to hasten forward. it was a three days' march to the cross roads. i will not speak of the sufferings we endured in our return. my uncle bore them with the angry impatience of a man obliged to own his weakness; hans with the resignation of his passive nature; i, i confess, with complaints and expressions of despair. i had no spirit to oppose this ill fortune. as i had foretold, the water failed entirely by the end of the first day's retrograde march. our fluid aliment was now nothing but gin; but this infernal fluid burned my throat, and i could not even endure the sight of it. i found the temperature and the air stifling. fatigue paralysed my limbs. more than once i dropped down motionless. then there was a halt; and my uncle and the icelander did their best to restore me. but i saw that the former was struggling painfully against excessive fatigue and the tortures of thirst. at last, on tuesday, july , we arrived on our hands and knees, and half dead, at the junction of the two roads. there i dropped like a lifeless lump, extended on the lava soil. it was ten in the morning. hans and my uncle, clinging to the wall, tried to nibble a few bits of biscuit. long moans escaped from my swollen lips. after some time my uncle approached me and raised me in his arms. "poor boy!" said he, in genuine tones of compassion. i was touched with these words, not being accustomed to see the excitable professor in a softened mood. i grasped his trembling hands in mine. he let me hold them and looked at me. his eyes were moistened. then i saw him take the flask that was hanging at his side. to my amazement he placed it on my lips. "drink!" said he. had i heard him? was my uncle beside himself? i stared at, him stupidly, and felt as if i could not understand him. "drink!" he said again. and raising his flask he emptied it every drop between my lips. oh! infinite pleasure! a slender sip of water came to moisten my burning mouth. it was but one sip but it was enough to recall my ebbing life. i thanked my uncle with clasped hands. "yes," he said, "a draught of water; but it is the very last--you hear!--the last. i had kept it as a precious treasure at the bottom of my flask. twenty times, nay, a hundred times, have i fought against a frightful impulse to drink it off. but no, axel, i kept it for you." "my dear uncle," i said, whilst hot tears trickled down my face. "yes, my poor boy, i knew that as soon as you arrived at these cross roads you would drop half dead, and i kept my last drop of water to reanimate you." "thank you, thank you," i said. although my thirst was only partially quenched, yet some strength had returned. the muscles of my throat, until then contracted, now relaxed again; and the inflammation of my lips abated somewhat; and i was now able to speak. . "let us see," i said, "we have now but one thing to do. we have no water; we must go back." while i spoke my uncle avoided looking at me; he hung his head down; his eyes avoided mine. "we must return," i exclaimed vehemently; "we must go back on our way to snæfell. may god give us strength to climb up the crater again!" "return!" said my uncle, as if he was rather answering himself than me. "yes, return, without the loss of a minute." a long silence followed. "so then, axel," replied the professor ironically, "you have found no courage or energy in these few drops of water?" "courage?" "i see you just as feeble-minded as you were before, and still expressing only despair!" what sort of a man was this i had to do with, and what schemes was he now revolving in his fearless mind? "what! you won't go back?" "should i renounce this expedition just when we have the fairest chance of success! never!" "then must we resign ourselves to destruction?" "no, axel, no; go back. hans will go with you. leave me to myself!" "leave you here!" "leave me, i tell you. i have undertaken this expedition. i will carry it out to the end, and i will not return. go, axel, go!" my uncle was in high state of excitement. his voice, which had for a moment been tender and gentle, had now become hard and threatening. he was struggling with gloomy resolutions against impossibilities. i would not leave him in this bottomless abyss, and on the other hand the instinct of self-preservation prompted me to fly. the guide watched this scene with his usual phlegmatic unconcern. yet he understood perfectly well what was going on between his two companions. the gestures themselves were sufficient to show that we were each bent on taking a different road; but hans seemed to take no part in a question upon which depended his life. he was ready to start at a given signal, or to stay, if his master so willed it. how i wished at this moment i could have made him understand me. my words, my complaints, my sorrow would have had some influence over that frigid nature. those dangers which our guide could not understand i could have demonstrated and proved to him. together we might have over-ruled the obstinate professor; if it were needed, we might perhaps have compelled him to regain the heights of snæfell. i drew near to hans. i placed my hand upon his. he made no movement. my parted lips sufficiently revealed my sufferings. the icelander slowly moved his head, and calmly pointing to my uncle said: "master." "master!" i shouted; "you madman! no, he is not the master of our life; we must fly, we must drag him. do you hear me? do you understand?" i had seized hans by the arm. i wished to oblige him to rise. i strove with him. my uncle interposed. "be calm, axel! you will get nothing from that immovable servant. therefore, listen to my proposal." i crossed my arms, and confronted my uncle boldly. "the want of water," he said, "is the only obstacle in our way. in this eastern gallery made up of lavas, schists, and coal, we have not met with a single particle of moisture. perhaps we shall be more fortunate if we follow the western tunnel." i shook my head incredulously. "hear me to the end," the professor went on with a firm voice. "whilst you were lying there motionless, i went to examine the conformation of that gallery. it penetrates directly downward, and in a few hours it will bring us to the granite rocks. there we must meet with abundant springs. the nature of the rock assures me of this, and instinct agrees with logic to support my conviction. now, this is my proposal. when columbus asked of his ships' crews for three days more to discover a new world, those crews, disheartened and sick as they were, recognised the justice of the claim, and he discovered america. i am the columbus of this nether world, and i only ask for one more day. if in a single day i have not met with the water that we want, i swear to you we will return to the surface of the earth." in spite of my irritation i was moved with these words, as well as with the violence my uncle was doing to his own wishes in making so hazardous a proposal. "well," i said, "do as you will, and god reward your superhuman energy. you have now but a few hours to tempt fortune. let us start!" chapter xxii. total failure of water this time the descent commenced by the new gallery. hans walked first as was his custom. we had not gone a hundred yards when the professor, moving his lantern along the walls, cried: "here are primitive rocks. now we are in the right way. forward!" when in its early stages the earth was slowly cooling, its contraction gave rise in its crust to disruptions, distortions, fissures, and chasms. the passage through which we were moving was such a fissure, through which at one time granite poured out in a molten state. its thousands of windings formed an inextricable labyrinth through the primeval mass. as fast as we descended, the succession of beds forming the primitive foundation came out with increasing distinctness. geologists consider this primitive matter to be the base of the mineral crust of the earth, and have ascertained it to be composed of three different formations, schist, gneiss, and mica schist, resting upon that unchangeable foundation, the granite. never had mineralogists found themselves in so marvellous a situation to study nature in situ. what the boring machine, an insensible, inert instrument, was unable to bring to the surface of the inner structure of the globe, we were able to peruse with our own eyes and handle with our own hands. through the beds of schist, coloured with delicate shades of green, ran in winding course threads of copper and manganese, with traces of platinum and gold. i thought, what riches are here buried at an unapproachable depth in the earth, hidden for ever from the covetous eyes of the human race! these treasures have been buried at such a profound depth by the convulsions of primeval times that they run no chance of ever being molested by the pickaxe or the spade. to the schists succeeded gneiss, partially stratified, remarkable for the parallelism and regularity of its lamina, then mica schists, laid in large plates or flakes, revealing their lamellated structure by the sparkle of the white shining mica. the light from our apparatus, reflected from the small facets of quartz, shot sparkling rays at every angle, and i seemed to be moving through a diamond, within which the quickly darting rays broke across each other in a thousand flashing coruscations. about six o'clock this brilliant fete of illuminations underwent a sensible abatement of splendour, then almost ceased. the walls assumed a crystallised though sombre appearance; mica was more closely mingled with the feldspar and quartz to form the proper rocky foundations of the earth, which bears without distortion or crushing the weight of the four terrestrial systems. we were immured within prison walls of granite. it was eight in the evening. no signs of water had yet appeared. i was suffering horribly. my uncle strode on. he refused to stop. he was listening anxiously for the murmur of distant springs. but, no, there was dead silence. and now my limbs were failing beneath me. i resisted pain and torture, that i might not stop my uncle, which would have driven him to despair, for the day was drawing near to its end, and it was his last. at last i failed utterly; i uttered a cry and fell. "come to me, i am dying." my uncle retraced his steps. he gazed upon me with his arms crossed; then these muttered words passed his lips: "it's all over!" the last thing i saw was a fearful gesture of rage, and my eyes closed. when i reopened them i saw my two companions motionless and rolled up in their coverings. were they asleep? as for me, i could not get one moment's sleep. i was suffering too keenly, and what embittered my thoughts was that there was no remedy. my uncle's last words echoed painfully in my ears: "it's all over!" for in such a fearful state of debility it was madness to think of ever reaching the upper world again. we had above us a league and a half of terrestrial crust. the weight of it seemed to be crushing down upon my shoulders. i felt weighed down, and i exhausted myself with imaginary violent exertions to turn round upon my granite couch. a few hours passed away. a deep silence reigned around us, the silence of the grave. no sound could reach us through walls, the thinnest of which were five miles thick. yet in the midst of my stupefaction i seemed to be aware of a noise. it was dark down the tunnel, but i seemed to see the icelander vanishing from our sight with the lamp in his hand. why was he leaving us? was hans going to forsake us? my uncle was fast asleep. i wanted to shout, but my voice died upon my parched and swollen lips. the darkness became deeper, and the last sound died away in the far distance. "hans has abandoned us," i cried. "hans! hans!" but these words were only spoken within me. they went no farther. yet after the first moment of terror i felt ashamed of suspecting a man of such extraordinary faithfulness. instead of ascending he was descending the gallery. an evil design would have taken him up not down. this reflection restored me to calmness, and i turned to other thoughts. none but some weighty motive could have induced so quiet a man to forfeit his sleep. was he on a journey of discovery? had he during the silence of the night caught a sound, a murmuring of something in the distance, which had failed to affect my hearing? chapter xxiii. water discovered for a whole hour i was trying to work out in my delirious brain the reasons which might have influenced this seemingly tranquil huntsman. the absurdest notions ran in utter confusion through my mind. i thought madness was coming on! but at last a noise of footsteps was heard in the dark abyss. hans was approaching. a flickering light was beginning to glimmer on the wall of our darksome prison; then it came out full at the mouth of the gallery. hans appeared. he drew close to my uncle, laid his hand upon his shoulder, and gently woke him. my uncle rose up. "what is the matter?" he asked. "_watten!_" replied the huntsman. no doubt under the inspiration of intense pain everybody becomes endowed with the gift of divers tongues. i did not know a word of danish, yet instinctively i understood the word he had uttered. "water! water!" i cried, clapping my hands and gesticulating like a madman. "water!" repeated my uncle. "hvar?" he asked, in icelandic. "_nedat,_" replied hans. "where? down below!" i understood it all. i seized the hunter's hands, and pressed them while he looked on me without moving a muscle of his countenance. the preparations for our departure were not long in making, and we were soon on our way down a passage inclining two feet in seven. in an hour we had gone a mile and a quarter, and descended two thousand feet. then i began to hear distinctly quite a new sound of something running within the thickness of the granite wall, a kind of dull, dead rumbling, like distant thunder. during the first part of our walk, not meeting with the promised spring, i felt my agony returning; but then my uncle acquainted me with the cause of the strange noise. "hans was not mistaken," he said. "what you hear is the rushing of a torrent." "a torrent?" i exclaimed. "there can be no doubt; a subterranean river is flowing around us." we hurried forward in the greatest excitement. i was no longer sensible of my fatigue. this murmuring of waters close at hand was already refreshing me. it was audibly increasing. the torrent, after having for some time flowed over our heads, was now running within the left wall, roaring and rushing. frequently i touched the wall, hoping to feel some indications of moisture: but there was no hope here. yet another half hour, another half league was passed. then it became clear that the hunter had gone no farther. guided by an instinct peculiar to mountaineers he had as it were felt this torrent through the rock; but he had certainly seen none of the precious liquid; he had drunk nothing himself. soon it became evident that if we continued our walk we should widen the distance between ourselves and the stream, the noise of which was becoming fainter. we returned. hans stopped where the torrent seemed closest. i sat near the wall, while the waters were flowing past me at a distance of two feet with extreme violence. but there was a thick granite wall between us and the object of our desires. without reflection, without asking if there were any means of procuring the water, i gave way to a movement of despair. hans glanced at me with, i thought, a smile of compassion. he rose and took the lamp. i followed him. he moved towards the wall. i looked on. he applied his ear against the dry stone, and moved it slowly to and fro, listening intently. i perceived at once that he was examining to find the exact place where the torrent could be heard the loudest. he met with that point on the left side of the tunnel, at three feet from the ground. i was stirred up with excitement. i hardly dared guess what the hunter was about to do. but i could not but understand, and applaud and cheer him on, when i saw him lay hold of the pickaxe to make an attack upon the rock. "we are saved!" i cried. "yes," cried my uncle, almost frantic with excitement. "hans is right. capital fellow! who but he would have thought of it?" yes; who but he? such an expedient, however simple, would never have entered into our minds. true, it seemed most hazardous to strike a blow of the hammer in this part of the earth's structure. suppose some displacement should occur and crush us all! suppose the torrent, bursting through, should drown us in a sudden flood! there was nothing vain in these fancies. but still no fears of falling rocks or rushing floods could stay us now; and our thirst was so intense that, to satisfy it, we would have dared the waves of the north atlantic. hans set about the task which my uncle and i together could not have accomplished. if our impatience had armed our hands with power, we should have shattered the rock into a thousand fragments. not so hans. full of self possession, he calmly wore his way through the rock with a steady succession of light and skilful strokes, working through an aperture six inches wide at the outside. i could hear a louder noise of flowing waters, and i fancied i could feel the delicious fluid refreshing my parched lips. the pick had soon penetrated two feet into the granite partition, and our man had worked for above an hour. i was in an agony of impatience. my uncle wanted to employ stronger measures, and i had some difficulty in dissuading him; still he had just taken a pickaxe in his hand, when a sudden hissing was heard, and a jet of water spurted out with violence against the opposite wall. hans, almost thrown off his feet by the violence of the shock, uttered a cry of grief and disappointment, of which i soon under-. stood the cause, when plunging my hands into the spouting torrent, i withdrew them in haste, for the water was scalding hot. "the water is at the boiling point," i cried. "well, never mind, let it cool," my uncle replied. the tunnel was filling with steam, whilst a stream was forming, which by degrees wandered away into subterranean windings, and soon we had the satisfaction of swallowing our first draught. could anything be more delicious than the sensation that our burning intolerable thirst was passing away, and leaving us to enjoy comfort and pleasure? but where was this water from? no matter. it was water; and though still warm, it brought life back to the dying. i kept drinking without stopping, and almost without tasting. at last after a most delightful time of reviving energy, i cried, "why, this is a chalybeate spring!" "nothing could be better for the digestion," said my uncle. "it is highly impregnated with iron. it will be as good for us as going to the spa, or to töplitz." "well, it is delicious!" "of course it is, water should be, found six miles underground. it has an inky flavour, which is not at all unpleasant. what a capital source of strength hans has found for us here. we will call it after his name." "agreed," i cried. and hansbach it was from that moment. hans was none the prouder. after a moderate draught, he went quietly into a corner to rest. "now," i said, "we must not lose this water." "what is the use of troubling ourselves?" my uncle, replied. "i fancy it will never fail." "never mind, we cannot be sure; let us fill the water bottle and our flasks, and then stop up the opening." my advice was followed so far as getting in a supply; but the stopping up of the hole was not so easy to accomplish. it was in vain that we took up fragments of granite, and stuffed them in with tow, we only scalded our hands without succeeding. the pressure was too great, and our efforts were fruitless. "it is quite plain," said i, "that the higher body of this water is at a considerable elevation. the force of the jet shows that." "no doubt," answered my uncle. "if this column of water is , feet high--that is, from the surface of the earth, it is equal to the weight of a thousand atmospheres. but i have got an idea." "well?" "why should we trouble ourselves to stop the stream from coming out at all?" "because--" well, i could not assign a reason. "when our flasks are empty, where shall we fill them again? can we tell that?" no; there was no certainty. "well, let us allow the water to run on. it will flow down, and will both guide and refresh us." "that is well planned," i cried. "with this stream for our guide, there is no reason why we should not succeed in our undertaking." "ah, my boy! you agree with me now," cried the professor, laughing. "i agree with you most heartily." "well, let us rest awhile; and then we will start again." i was forgetting that it was night. the chronometer soon informed me of that fact; and in a very short time, refreshed and thankful, we all three fell into a sound sleep. chapter xxiv. well said, old mole! canst thou work i' the ground so fast? by the next day we had forgotten all our sufferings. at first, i was wondering that i was no longer thirsty, and i was for asking for the reason. the answer came in the murmuring of the stream at my feet. we breakfasted, and drank of this excellent chalybeate water. i felt wonderfully stronger, and quite decided upon pushing on. why should not so firmly convinced a man as my uncle, furnished with so industrious a guide as hans, and accompanied by so determined a nephew as myself, go on to final success? such were the magnificent plans which struggled for mastery within me. if it had been proposed to me to return to the summit of snæfell, i should have indignantly declined. most fortunately, all we had to do was to descend. "let us start!" i cried, awakening by my shouts the echoes of the vaulted hollows of the earth. on thursday, at a.m., we started afresh. the granite tunnel winding from side to side, earned us past unexpected turns, and seemed almost to form a labyrinth; but, on the whole, its direction seemed to be south-easterly. my uncle never ceased to consult his compass, to keep account of the ground gone over. the gallery dipped down a very little way from the horizontal, scarcely more than two inches in a fathom, and the stream ran gently murmuring at our feet. i compared it to a friendly genius guiding us underground, and caressed with my hand the soft naiad, whose comforting voice accompanied our steps. with my reviving spirits these mythological notions seemed to come unbidden. as for my uncle, he was beginning to storm against the horizontal road. he loved nothing better than a vertical path; but this way seemed indefinitely prolonged, and instead of sliding along the hypothenuse as we were now doing, he would willingly have dropped down the terrestrial radius. but there was no help for it, and as long as we were approaching the centre at all we felt that we must not complain. from time to time, a steeper path appeared; our naiad then began to tumble before us with a hoarser murmur, and we went down with her to a greater depth. on the whole, that day and the next we made considerable way horizontally, very little vertically. on friday evening, the th of july, according to our calculations, we were thirty leagues south-east of rejkiavik, and at a depth of two leagues and a half. at our feet there now opened a frightful abyss. my uncle, however, was not to be daunted, and he clapped his hands at the steepness of the descent. "this will take us a long way," he cried, "and without much difficulty; for the projections in the rock form quite a staircase." the ropes were so fastened by hans as to guard against accident, and the descent commenced. i can hardly call it perilous, for i was beginning to be familiar with this kind of exercise. this well, or abyss, was a narrow cleft in the mass of the granite, called by geologists a 'fault,' and caused by the unequal cooling of the globe of the earth. if it had at one time been a passage for eruptive matter thrown out by snæfell, i still could not understand why no trace was left of its passage. we kept going down a kind of winding staircase, which seemed almost to have been made by the hand of man. every quarter of an hour we were obliged to halt, to take a little necessary repose and restore the action of our limbs. we then sat down upon a fragment of rock, and we talked as we ate and drank from the stream. of course, down this fault the hansbach fell in a cascade, and lost some of its volume; but there was enough and to spare to slake our thirst. besides, when the incline became more gentle, it would of course resume its peaceable course. at this moment it reminded me of my worthy uncle, in his frequent fits of impatience and anger, while below it ran with the calmness of the icelandic hunter. on the th and th of july we kept following the spiral curves of this singular well, penetrating in actual distance no more than two leagues; but being carried to a depth of five leagues below the level of the sea. but on the th, about noon, the fault took, towards the south-east, a much gentler slope, one of about forty-five degrees. then the road became monotonously easy. it could not be otherwise, for there was no landscape to vary the stages of our journey. on wednesday, the th, we were seven leagues underground, and had travelled fifty leagues away from snæfell. although we were tired, our health was perfect, and the medicine chest had not yet had occasion to be opened. my uncle noted every hour the indications of the compass, the chronometer, the aneroid, and the thermometer the very same which he has published in his scientific report of our journey. it was therefore not difficult to know exactly our whereabouts. when he told me that we had gone fifty leagues horizontally, i could not repress an exclamation of astonishment, at the thought that we had now long left iceland behind us. "what is the matter?" he cried. "i was reflecting that if your calculations are correct we are no longer under iceland." "do you think so?" "i am not mistaken," i said, and examining the map, i added, "we have passed cape portland, and those fifty leagues bring us under the wide expanse of ocean." "under the sea," my uncle repeated, rubbing his hands with delight. "can it be?" i said. "is the ocean spread above our heads?" "of course, axel. what can be more natural? at newcastle are there not coal mines extending far under the sea?" it was all very well for the professor to call this so simple, but i could not feel quite easy at the thought that the boundless ocean was rolling over my head. and yet it really mattered very little whether it was the plains and mountains that covered our heads, or the atlantic waves, as long as we were arched over by solid granite. and, besides, i was getting used to this idea; for the tunnel, now running straight, now winding as capriciously in its inclines as in its turnings, but constantly preserving its south-easterly direction, and always running deeper, was gradually carrying us to very great depths indeed. four days later, saturday, the th of july, in the evening, we arrived at a kind of vast grotto; and here my uncle paid hans his weekly wages, and it was settled that the next day, sunday, should be a day of rest. chapter xxv. de profundis i therefore awoke next day relieved from the preoccupation of an immediate start. although we were in the very deepest of known depths, there was something not unpleasant about it. and, besides, we were beginning to get accustomed to this troglodyte [ ] life. i no longer thought of sun, moon, and stars, trees, houses, and towns, nor of any of those terrestrial superfluities which are necessaries of men who live upon the earth's surface. being fossils, we looked upon all those things as mere jokes. the grotto was an immense apartment. along its granite floor ran our faithful stream. at this distance from its spring the water was scarcely tepid, and we drank of it with pleasure. after breakfast the professor gave a few hours to the arrangement of his daily notes. "first," said he, "i will make a calculation to ascertain our exact position. i hope, after our return, to draw a map of our journey, which will be in reality a vertical section of the globe, containing the track of our expedition." "that will be curious, uncle; but are your observations sufficiently accurate to enable you to do this correctly?" "yes; i have everywhere observed the angles and the inclines. i am sure there is no error. let us see where we are now. take your compass, and note the direction." i looked, and replied carefully: [ ] tpwgln, a hole; dnw, to creep into. the name of an ethiopian tribe who lived in caves and holes. ??????, a hole, and ???, to creep into. "south-east by east." "well," answered the professor, after a rapid calculation, "i infer that we have gone eighty-five leagues since we started." "therefore we are under mid-atlantic?" "to be sure we are." "and perhaps at this very moment there is a storm above, and ships over our heads are being rudely tossed by the tempest." "quite probable." "and whales are lashing the roof of our prison with their tails?" "it may be, axel, but they won't shake us here. but let us go back to our calculation. here we are eighty-five leagues south-east of snæfell, and i reckon that we are at a depth of sixteen leagues." "sixteen leagues?" i cried. "no doubt." "why, this is the very limit assigned by science to the thickness of the crust of the earth." "i don't deny it." "and here, according to the law of increasing temperature, there ought to be a heat of , ° fahr.!" "so there should, my lad." "and all this solid granite ought to be running in fusion." "you see that it is not so, and that, as so often happens, facts come to overthrow theories." "i am obliged to agree; but, after all, it is surprising." "what does the thermometer say?" "twenty-seven, six tenths ( ° fahr.)." "therefore the savants are wrong by , °, and the proportional increase is a mistake. therefore humphry davy was right, and i am not wrong in following him. what do you say now?" "nothing." in truth, i had a good deal to say. i gave way in no respect to davy's theory. i still held to the central heat, although i did not feel its effects. i preferred to admit in truth, that this chimney of an extinct volcano, lined with lavas, which are non-conductors of heat, did not suffer the heat to pass through its walls. but without stopping to look up new arguments i simply took up our situation such as it was. "well, admitting all your calculations to be quite correct, you must allow me to draw one rigid result therefrom." "what is it. speak freely." "at the latitude of iceland, where we now are, the radius of the earth, the distance from the centre to the surface is about , leagues; let us say in round numbers , leagues, or , miles. out of , leagues we have gone twelve!" "so you say." "and these twelve at a cost of leagues diagonally?" "exactly so." "in twenty days?" "yes." "now, sixteen leagues are the hundredth part of the earth's radius. at this rate we shall be two thousand days, or nearly five years and a half, in getting to the centre." no answer was vouchsafed to this rational conclusion. "without reckoning, too, that if a vertical depth of sixteen leagues can be attained only by a diagonal descent of eighty-four, it follows that we must go eight thousand miles in a south-easterly direction; so that we shall emerge from some point in the earth's circumference instead of getting to the centre!" "confusion to all your figures, and all your hypotheses besides," shouted my uncle in a sudden rage. "what is the basis of them all? how do you know that this passage does not run straight to our destination? besides, there is a precedent. what one man has done, another may do." "i hope so; but, still, i may be permitted--" "you shall have my leave to hold your tongue, axel, but not to talk in that irrational way." i could see the awful professor bursting through my uncle's skin, and i took timely warning. "now look at your aneroid. what does that say?" "it says we are under considerable pressure." "very good; so you see that by going gradually down, and getting accustomed to the density of the atmosphere, we don't suffer at all." "nothing, except a little pain in the ears." "that's nothing, and you may get rid of even that by quick breathing whenever you feel the pain." "exactly so," i said, determined not to say a word that might cross my uncle's prejudices. "there is even positive pleasure in living in this dense atmosphere. have you observed how intense sound is down here?" "no doubt it is. a deaf man would soon learn to hear perfectly." "but won't this density augment?" "yes; according to a rather obscure law. it is well known that the weight of bodies diminishes as fast as we descend. you know that it is at the surface of the globe that weight is most sensibly felt, and that at the centre there is no weight at all." "i am aware of that; but, tell me, will not air at last acquire the density of water?" "of course, under a pressure of seven hundred and ten atmospheres." "and how, lower down still?" "lower down the density will still increase." "but how shall we go down then." "why, we must fill our pockets with stones." "well, indeed, my worthy uncle, you are never at a loss for an answer." i dared venture no farther into the region of probabilities, for i might presently have stumbled upon an impossibility, which would have brought the professor on the scene when he was not wanted. still, it was evident that the air, under a pressure which might reach that of thousands of atmospheres, would at last reach the solid state, and then, even if our bodies could resist the strain, we should be stopped, and no reasonings would be able to get us on any farther. but i did not advance this argument. my uncle would have met it with his inevitable saknussemm, a precedent which possessed no weight with me; for even if the journey of the learned icelander were really attested, there was one very simple answer, that in the sixteenth century there was neither barometer or aneroid and therefore saknussemm could not tell how far he had gone. but i kept this objection to myself, and waited the course of events. the rest of the day was passed in calculations and in conversations. i remained a steadfast adherent of the opinions of professor liedenbrock, and i envied the stolid indifference of hans, who, without going into causes and effects, went on with his eyes shut wherever his destiny guided him. chapter xxvi. the worst peril of all it must be confessed that hitherto things had not gone on so badly, and that i had small reason to complain. if our difficulties became no worse, we might hope to reach our end. and to what a height of scientific glory we should then attain! i had become quite a liedenbrock in my reasonings; seriously i had. but would this state of things last in the strange place we had come to? perhaps it might. for several days steeper inclines, some even frightfully near to the perpendicular, brought us deeper and deeper into the mass of the interior of the earth. some days we advanced nearer to the centre by a league and a half, or nearly two leagues. these were perilous descents, in which the skill and marvellous coolness of hans were invaluable to us. that unimpassioned icelander devoted himself with incomprehensible deliberation; and, thanks to him, we crossed many a dangerous spot which we should never have cleared alone. but his habit of silence gained upon him day by day, and was infecting us. external objects produce decided effects upon the brain. a man shut up between four walls soon loses the power to associate words and ideas together. how many prisoners in solitary confinement become idiots, if not mad, for want of exercise for the thinking faculty! during the fortnight following our last conversation, no incident occurred worthy of being recorded. but i have good reason for remembering one very serious event which took place at this time, and of which i could scarcely now forget the smallest details. by the th of august our successive descents had brought us to a depth of thirty leagues; that is, that for a space of thirty leagues there were over our heads solid beds of rock, ocean, continents, and towns. we must have been two hundred leagues from iceland. on that day the tunnel went down a gentle slope. i was ahead of the others. my uncle was carrying one of ruhmkorff's lamps and i the other. i was examining the beds of granite. suddenly turning round i observed that i was alone. well, well, i thought; i have been going too fast, or hans and my uncle have stopped on the way. come, this won't do; i must join them. fortunately there is not much of an ascent. i retraced my steps. i walked for a quarter of an hour. i gazed into the darkness. i shouted. no reply: my voice was lost in the midst of the cavernous echoes which alone replied to my call. i began to feel uneasy. a shudder ran through me. "calmly!" i said aloud to myself, "i am sure to find my companions again. there are not two roads. i was too far ahead. i will return!" for half an hour i climbed up. i listened for a call, and in that dense atmosphere a voice could reach very far. but there was a dreary silence in all that long gallery. i stopped. i could not believe that i was lost. i was only bewildered for a time, not lost. i was sure i should find my way again. "come," i repeated, "since there is but one road, and they are on it, i must find them again. i have but to ascend still. unless, indeed, missing me, and supposing me to be behind, they too should have gone back. but even in this case i have only to make the greater haste. i shall find them, i am sure." i repeated these words in the fainter tones of a half-convinced man. besides, to associate even such simple ideas with words, and reason with them, was a work of time. a doubt then seized upon me. was i indeed in advance when we became separated? yes, to be sure i was. hans was after me, preceding my uncle. he had even stopped for a while to strap his baggage better over his shoulders. i could remember this little incident. it was at that very moment that i must have gone on. besides, i thought, have not i a guarantee that i shall not lose my way, a clue in the labyrinth, that cannot be broken, my faithful stream? i have but to trace it back, and i must come upon them. this conclusion revived my spirits, and i resolved to resume my march without loss of time. how i then blessed my uncle's foresight in preventing the hunter from stopping up the hole in the granite. this beneficent spring, after having satisfied our thirst on the road, would now be my guide among the windings of the terrestrial crust. before starting afresh i thought a wash would do me good. i stooped to bathe my face in the hansbach. to my stupefaction and utter dismay my feet trod only--the rough dry granite. the stream was no longer at my feet. chapter xxvii. lost in the bowels of the earth to describe my despair would be impossible. no words could tell it. i was buried alive, with the prospect before me of dying of hunger and thirst. mechanically i swept the ground with my hands. how dry and hard the rock seemed to me! but how had i left the course of the stream? for it was a terrible fact that it no longer ran at my side. then i understood the reason of that fearful, silence, when for the last time i listened to hear if any sound from my companions could reach my ears. at the moment when i left the right road i had not noticed the absence of the stream. it is evident that at that moment a deviation had presented itself before me, whilst the hansbach, following the caprice of another incline, had gone with my companions away into unknown depths. how was i to return? there was not a trace of their footsteps or of my own, for the foot left no mark upon the granite floor. i racked my brain for a solution of this impracticable problem. one word described my position. lost! lost at an immeasurable depth! thirty leagues of rock seemed to weigh upon my shoulders with a dreadful pressure. i felt crushed. i tried to carry back my ideas to things on the surface of the earth. i could scarcely succeed. hamburg, the house in the königstrasse, my poor gräuben, all that busy world underneath which i was wandering about, was passing in rapid confusion before my terrified memory. i could revive with vivid reality all the incidents of our voyage, iceland, m. fridrikssen, snæfell. i said to myself that if, in such a position as i was now in, i was fool enough to cling to one glimpse of hope, it would be madness, and that the best thing i could do was to despair. what human power could restore me to the light of the sun by rending asunder the huge arches of rock which united over my head, buttressing each other with impregnable strength? who could place my feet on the right path, and bring me back to my company? "oh, my uncle!" burst from my lips in the tone of despair. it was my only word of reproach, for i knew how much he must be suffering in seeking me, wherever he might be. when i saw myself thus far removed from all earthly help i had recourse to heavenly succour. the remembrance of my childhood, the recollection of my mother, whom i had only known in my tender early years, came back to me, and i knelt in prayer imploring for the divine help of which i was so little worthy. this return of trust in god's providence allayed the turbulence of my fears, and i was enabled to concentrate upon my situation all the force of my intelligence. i had three days' provisions with me and my flask was full. but i could not remain alone for long. should i go up or down? up, of course; up continually. i must thus arrive at the point where i had left the stream, that fatal turn in the road. with the stream at my feet, i might hope to regain the summit of snæfell. why had i not thought of that sooner? here was evidently a chance of safety. the most pressing duty was to find out again the course of the hansbach. i rose, and leaning upon my iron-pointed stick i ascended the gallery. the slope was rather steep. i walked on without hope but without indecision, like a man who has made up his mind. for half an hour i met with no obstacle. i tried to recognise my way by the form of the tunnel, by the projections of certain rocks, by the disposition of the fractures. but no particular sign appeared, and i soon saw that this gallery could not bring me back to the turning point. it came to an abrupt end. i struck against an impenetrable wall, and fell down upon the rock. unspeakable despair then seized upon me. i lay overwhelmed, aghast! my last hope was shattered against this granite wall. lost in this labyrinth, whose windings crossed each other in all directions, it was no use to think of flight any longer. here i must die the most dreadful of deaths. and, strange to say, the thought came across me that when some day my petrified remains should be found thirty leagues below the surface in the bowels of the earth, the discovery might lead to grave scientific discussions. i tried to speak aloud, but hoarse sounds alone passed my dry lips. i panted for breath. in the midst of my agony a new terror laid hold of me. in falling my lamp had got wrong. i could not set it right, and its light was paling and would soon disappear altogether. i gazed painfully upon the luminous current growing weaker and weaker in the wire coil. a dim procession of moving shadows seemed slowly unfolding down the darkening walls. i scarcely dared to shut my eyes for one moment, for fear of losing the least glimmer of this precious light. every instant it seemed about to vanish and the dense blackness to come rolling in palpably upon me. one last trembling glimmer shot feebly up. i watched it in trembling and anxiety; i drank it in as if i could preserve it, concentrating upon it the full power of my eyes, as upon the very last sensation of light which they were ever to experience, and the next moment i lay in the heavy gloom of deep, thick, unfathomable darkness. a terrible cry of anguish burst from me. upon earth, in the midst of the darkest night, light never abdicates its functions altogether. it is still subtle and diffusive, but whatever little there may be, the eye still catches that little. here there was not an atom; the total darkness made me totally blind. then i began to lose my head. i arose with my arms stretched out before me, attempting painfully to feel my way. i began to run wildly, hurrying through the inextricable maze, still descending, still running through the substance of the earth's thick crust, a struggling denizen of geological 'faults,' crying, shouting, yelling, soon bruised by contact with the jagged rock, falling and rising again bleeding, trying to drink the blood which covered my face, and even waiting for some rock to shatter my skull against. i shall never know whither my mad career took me. after the lapse of some hours, no doubt exhausted, i fell like a lifeless lump at the foot of the wall, and lost all consciousness. chapter xxviii. the rescue in the whispering gallery when i returned to partial life my face was wet with tears. how long that state of insensibility had lasted i cannot say. i had no means now of taking account of time. never was solitude equal to this, never had any living being been so utterly forsaken. after my fall i had lost a good deal of blood. i felt it flowing over me. ah! how happy i should have been could i have died, and if death were not yet to be gone through. i would think no longer. i drove away every idea, and, conquered by my grief, i rolled myself to the foot of the opposite wall. already i was feeling the approach of another faint, and was hoping for complete annihilation, when a loud noise reached me. it was like the distant rumble of continuous thunder, and i could hear its sounding undulations rolling far away into the remote recesses of the abyss. whence could this noise proceed? it must be from some phenomenon proceeding in the great depths amidst which i lay helpless. was it an explosion of gas? was it the fall of some mighty pillar of the globe? i listened still. i wanted to know if the noise would be repeated. a quarter of an hour passed away. silence reigned in this gallery. i could not hear even the beating of my heart. suddenly my ear, resting by chance against the wall, caught, or seemed to catch, certain vague, indescribable, distant, articulate sounds, as of words. "this is a delusion," i thought. but it was not. listening more attentively, i heard in reality a murmuring of voices. but my weakness prevented me from understanding what the voices said. yet it was language, i was sure of it. for a moment i feared the words might be my own, brought back by the echo. perhaps i had been crying out unknown to myself. i closed my lips firmly, and laid my ear against the wall again. "yes, truly, some one is speaking; those are words!" even a few feet from the wall i could hear distinctly. i succeeded in catching uncertain, strange, undistinguishable words. they came as if pronounced in low murmured whispers. the word '_forlorad_' was several times repeated in a tone of sympathy and sorrow. "help!" i cried with all my might. "help!" i listened, i watched in the darkness for an answer, a cry, a mere breath of sound, but nothing came. some minutes passed. a whole world of ideas had opened in my mind. i thought that my weakened voice could never penetrate to my companions. "it is they," i repeated. "what other men can be thirty leagues under ground?" i again began to listen. passing my ear over the wall from one place to another, i found the point where the voices seemed to be best heard. the word '_forlorad_' again returned; then the rolling of thunder which had roused me from my lethargy. "no," i said, "no; it is not through such a mass that a voice can be heard. i am surrounded by granite walls, and the loudest explosion could never be heard here! this noise comes along the gallery. there must be here some remarkable exercise of acoustic laws!" i listened again, and this time, yes this time, i did distinctly hear my name pronounced across the wide interval. it was my uncle's own voice! he was talking to the guide. and '_forlorad_' is a danish word. then i understood it all. to make myself heard, i must speak along this wall, which would conduct the sound of my voice just as wire conducts electricity. but there was no time to lose. if my companions moved but a few steps away, the acoustic phenomenon would cease. i therefore approached the wall, and pronounced these words as clearly as possible: "uncle liedenbrock!" i waited with the deepest anxiety. sound does not travel with great velocity. even increased density air has no effect upon its rate of travelling; it merely augments its intensity. seconds, which seemed ages, passed away, and at last these words reached me: "axel! axel! is it you?" . . . . "yes, yes," i replied. . . . . "my boy, where are you?" . . . . "lost, in the deepest darkness." . . . . "where is your lamp?" . . . . "it is out." . . . . "and the stream?" . . . . "disappeared." . . . . "axel, axel, take courage!" . . . . "wait! i am exhausted! i can't answer. speak to me!" . . . . "courage," resumed my uncle. "don't speak. listen to me. we have looked for you up the gallery and down the gallery. could not find you. i wept for you, my poor boy. at last, supposing you were still on the hansbach, we fired our guns. our voices are audible to each other, but our hands cannot touch. but don't despair, axel! it is a great thing that we can hear each other." . . . . during this time i had been reflecting. a vague hope was returning to my heart. there was one thing i must know to begin with. i placed my lips close to the wall, saying: "my uncle!" . . . . "my boy!" came to me after a few seconds. . . . . "we must know how far we are apart." . . . . "that is easy." . . . . "you have your chronometer?" . . . "yes." . . . . "well, take it. pronounce my name, noting exactly the second when you speak. i will repeat it as soon as it shall come to me, and you will observe the exact moment when you get my answer." "yes; and half the time between my call and your answer will exactly indicate that which my voice will take in coming to you." . . . . "just so, my uncle." . . . . "are you ready?" . . . . "yes." . . . . . . "now, attention. i am going to call your name." . . . . i put my ear to the wall, and as soon as the name 'axel' came i immediately replied "axel," then waited. . . . . "forty seconds," said my uncle. "forty seconds between the two words; so the sound takes twenty seconds in coming. now, at the rate of , feet in a second, this is , feet, or four miles and a quarter, nearly." . . . . "four miles and a quarter!" i murmured. . . . . "it will soon be over, axel." . . . . "must i go up or down?" . . . . "down--for this reason: we are in a vast chamber, with endless galleries. yours must lead into it, for it seems as if all the clefts and fractures of the globe radiated round this vast cavern. so get up, and begin walking. walk on, drag yourself along, if necessary slide down the steep places, and at the end you will find us ready to receive you. now begin moving." . . . . these words cheered me up. "good bye, uncle." i cried. "i am going. there will be no more voices heard when once i have started. so good bye!" . . . . "good bye, axel, _au revoir!_" . . . . these were the last words i heard. this wonderful underground conversation, carried on with a distance of four miles and a quarter between us, concluded with these words of hope. i thanked god from my heart, for it was he who had conducted me through those vast solitudes to the point where, alone of all others perhaps, the voices of my companions could have reached me. this acoustic effect is easily explained on scientific grounds. it arose from the concave form of the gallery and the conducting power of the rock. there are many examples of this propagation of sounds which remain unheard in the intermediate space. i remember that a similar phenomenon has been observed in many places; amongst others on the internal surface of the gallery of the dome of st. paul's in london, and especially in the midst of the curious caverns among the quarries near syracuse, the most wonderful of which is called dionysius' ear. these remembrances came into my mind, and i clearly saw that since my uncle's voice really reached me, there could be no obstacle between us. following the direction by which the sound came, of course i should arrive in his presence, if my strength did not fail me. i therefore rose; i rather dragged myself than walked. the slope was rapid, and i slid down. soon the swiftness of the descent increased horribly, and threatened to become a fall. i no longer had the strength to stop myself. suddenly there was no ground under me. i felt myself revolving in air, striking and rebounding against the craggy projections of a vertical gallery, quite a well; my head struck against a sharp corner of the rock, and i became unconscious. chapter xxix. thalatta! thalatta! when i came to myself, i was stretched in half darkness, covered with thick coats and blankets. my uncle was watching over me, to discover the least sign of life. at my first sigh he took my hand; when i opened my eyes he uttered a cry of joy. "he lives! he lives!" he cried. "yes, i am still alive," i answered feebly. "my dear nephew," said my uncle, pressing me to his breast, "you are saved." i was deeply touched with the tenderness of his manner as he uttered these words, and still more with the care with which he watched over me. but such trials were wanted to bring out the professor's tenderer qualities. at this moment hans came, he saw my hand in my uncle's, and i may safely say that there was joy in his countenance. "_god dag,_" said he. "how do you do, hans? how are you? and now, uncle, tell me where we are at the present moment?" "to-morrow, axel, to-morrow. now you are too faint and weak. i have bandaged your head with compresses which must not be disturbed. sleep now, and to-morrow i will tell you all." "but do tell me what time it is, and what day." "it is sunday, the th of august, and it is ten at night. you must ask me no more questions until the th." in truth i was very weak, and my eyes involuntarily closed. i wanted a good night's rest; and i therefore went off to sleep, with the knowledge that i had been four long days alone in the heart of the earth. next morning, on awakening, i looked round me. my couch, made up of all our travelling gear, was in a charming grotto, adorned with splendid stalactites, and the soil of which was a fine sand. it was half light. there was no torch, no lamp, yet certain mysterious glimpses of light came from without through a narrow opening in the grotto. i heard too a vague and indistinct noise, something like the murmuring of waves breaking upon a shingly shore, and at times i seemed to hear the whistling of wind. i wondered whether i was awake, whether i was dreaming, whether my brain, crazed by my fall, was not affected by imaginary noises. yet neither eyes, nor ears could be so utterly deceived. it is a ray of daylight, i thought, sliding in through this cleft in the rock! that is indeed the murmuring of waves! that is the rustling noise of wind. am i quite mistaken, or have we returned to the surface of the earth? has my uncle given up the expedition, or is it happily terminated? i was asking myself these unanswerable questions when the professor entered. "good morning, axel," he cried cheerily. "i feel sure you are better." "yes, i am indeed," said i, sitting up on my couch. "you can hardly fail to be better, for you have slept quietly. hans and i watched you by turns, and we have noticed you were evidently recovering." "indeed, i do feel a great deal better, and i will give you a proof of that presently if you will let me have my breakfast." "you shall eat, lad. the fever has left you. hans rubbed your wounds with some ointment or other of which the icelanders keep the secret, and they have healed marvellously. our hunter is a splendid fellow!" whilst he went on talking, my uncle prepared a few provisions, which i devoured eagerly, notwithstanding his advice to the contrary. all the while i was overwhelming him with questions which he answered readily. i then learnt that my providential fall had brought me exactly to the extremity of an almost perpendicular 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 loose portion of the rock had come down with me. this frightful conveyance had thus carried me into the arms of my uncle, where i fell bruised, bleeding, and insensible. "truly it is wonderful that you have not been killed a hundred times over. but, for the love of god, don't let us ever separate again, or we many never see each other more." "not separate! is the journey not over, then?" i opened a pair of astonished eyes, which immediately called for the question: "what is the matter, axel?" "i have a question to ask you. you say that i am safe and sound?" "no doubt you are." "and all my limbs unbroken?" "certainly." "and my head?" "your head, except for a few bruises, is all right; and it is on your shoulders, where it ought to be." "well, i am afraid my brain is affected." "your mind affected!" "yes, i fear so. are we again on the surface of the globe?" "no, certainly not." "then i must be mad; for don't i see the light of day, and don't i hear the wind blowing, and the sea breaking on the shore?" "ah! is that all?" "do tell me all about it." "i can't explain the inexplicable, but you will soon see and understand that geology has not yet learnt all it has to learn." "then let us go," i answered quickly. "no, axel; the open air might be bad for you." "open air?" "yes; the wind is rather strong. you must not expose yourself." "but i assure you i am perfectly well." "a little patience, my nephew. a relapse might get us into trouble, and we have no time to lose, for the voyage may be a long one." "the voyage!" "yes, rest to-day, and to-morrow we will set sail." "set sail!"--and i almost leaped up. what did it all mean? had we a river, a lake, a sea to depend upon? was there a ship at our disposal in some underground harbour? my curiosity was highly excited, my uncle vainly tried to restrain me. when he saw that my impatience was doing me harm, he yielded. i dressed in haste. for greater safety i wrapped myself in a blanket, and came out of the grotto. chapter xxx. a new mare internum at first i could hardly see anything. my eyes, unaccustomed to the light, quickly closed. when i was able to reopen them, i stood more stupefied even than surprised. "the sea!" i cried. "yes," my uncle replied, "the liedenbrock sea; and i don't suppose any other discoverer will ever dispute my claim to name it after myself as its first discoverer." a vast sheet of water, the commencement of a lake or an ocean, spread far away beyond the range of the eye, reminding me forcibly of that open sea which drew from xenophon's ten thousand greeks, after their long retreat, the simultaneous cry, "thalatta! thalatta!" the sea! the sea! the deeply indented shore was lined with a breadth of fine shining sand, softly lapped by the waves, and strewn with the small shells which had been inhabited by the first of created beings. the waves broke on this shore with the hollow echoing murmur peculiar to vast inclosed spaces. a light foam flew over the waves before the breath of a moderate breeze, and some of the spray fell upon my face. on this slightly inclining shore, about a hundred fathoms from the limit of the waves, came down the foot of a huge wall of vast cliffs, which rose majestically to an enormous height. some of these, dividing the beach with their sharp spurs, formed capes and promontories, worn away by the ceaseless action of the surf. farther on the eye discerned their massive outline sharply defined against the hazy distant horizon. it was quite an ocean, with the irregular shores of earth, but desert and frightfully wild in appearance. if my eyes were able to range afar over this great sea, it was because a peculiar light brought to view every detail of it. it was not the light of the sun, with his dazzling shafts of brightness and the splendour of his rays; nor was it the pale and uncertain shimmer of the moonbeams, the dim reflection of a nobler body of light. no; the illuminating power of this light, its trembling diffusiveness, its bright, clear whiteness, and its low temperature, showed that it must be of electric origin. it was like an aurora borealis, a continuous cosmical phenomenon, filling a cavern of sufficient extent to contain an ocean. the vault that spanned the space above, the sky, if it could be called so, seemed composed of vast plains of cloud, shifting and variable vapours, which by their condensation must at certain times fall in torrents of rain. i should have thought that under so powerful a pressure of the atmosphere there could be no evaporation; and yet, under a law unknown to me, there were broad tracts of vapour suspended in the air. but then 'the weather was fine.' the play of the electric light produced singular effects upon the upper strata of cloud. deep shadows reposed upon their lower wreaths; and often, between two separated fields of cloud, there glided down a ray of unspeakable lustre. but it was not solar light, and there was no heat. the general effect was sad, supremely melancholy. instead of the shining firmament, spangled with its innumerable stars, shining singly or in clusters, i felt that all these subdued and shaded lights were ribbed in by vast walls of granite, which seemed to overpower me with their weight, and that all this space, great as it was, would not be enough for the march of the humblest of satellites. then i remembered the theory of an english captain, who likened the earth to a vast hollow sphere, in the interior of which the air became luminous because of the vast pressure that weighed upon it; while two stars, pluto and proserpine, rolled within upon the circuit of their mysterious orbits. we were in reality shut up inside an immeasurable excavation. its width could not be estimated, since the shore ran widening as far as eye could reach, nor could its length, for the dim horizon bounded the new. as for its height, it must have been several leagues. where this vault rested upon its granite base no eye could tell; but there was a cloud hanging far above, the height of which we estimated at , feet, a greater height than that of any terrestrial vapour, and no doubt due to the great density of the air. the word cavern does not convey any idea of this immense space; words of human tongue are inadequate to describe the discoveries of him who ventures into the deep abysses of earth. besides i could not tell upon what geological theory to account for the existence of such an excavation. had the cooling of the globe produced it? i knew of celebrated caverns from the descriptions of travellers, but had never heard of any of such dimensions as this. if the grotto of guachara, in colombia, visited by humboldt, had not given up the whole of the secret of its depth to the philosopher, who investigated it to the depth of , feet, 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 the level of an unfathomable lake and travellers have explored its ramifications to the extent of forty miles. but what were these cavities compared to that in which i stood with wonder and admiration, with its sky of luminous vapours, its bursts of electric light, and a vast sea filling its bed? my imagination fell powerless before such immensity. i gazed upon these wonders in silence. words failed me to express my feelings. i felt as if i was in some distant planet uranus or neptune--and in the presence of phenomena of which my terrestrial experience gave me no cognisance. for such novel sensations, new words were wanted; and my imagination failed to supply them. i gazed, i thought, i admired, with a stupefaction mingled with a certain amount of fear. the unforeseen nature of this spectacle brought back the colour to my cheeks. i was under a new course of treatment with the aid of astonishment, and my convalescence was promoted by this novel system of therapeutics; besides, the dense and breezy air invigorated me, supplying more oxygen to my lungs. it will be easily conceived that after an imprisonment of forty seven days in a narrow gallery it was the height of physical enjoyment to breathe a moist air impregnated with saline particles. [ ] one hundred and twenty. (trans.) i was delighted to leave my dark grotto. my uncle, already familiar with these wonders, had ceased to feel surprise. "you feel strong enough to walk a little way now?" he asked. "yes, certainly; and nothing could be more delightful." "well, take my arm, axel, and let us follow the windings of the shore." i eagerly accepted, and we began to coast along this new sea. on the left huge pyramids of rock, piled one upon another, produced a prodigious titanic effect. down their sides flowed numberless waterfalls, which went on their way in brawling but pellucid streams. a few light vapours, leaping from rock to rock, denoted the place of hot springs; and streams flowed softly down to the common basin, gliding down the gentle slopes with a softer murmur. amongst these streams i recognised our faithful travelling companion, the hansbach, coming to lose its little volume quietly in the mighty sea, just as if it had done nothing else since the beginning of the world. "we shall see it no more," i said, with a sigh. "what matters," replied the philosopher, "whether this or another serves to guide us?" i thought him rather ungrateful. but at that moment my attention was drawn to an unexpected sight. at a distance of five hundred paces, at the turn of a high promontory, appeared a high, tufted, dense forest. it was composed of trees of moderate height, formed like umbrellas, with exact geometrical outlines. the currents of wind seemed to have had no effect upon their shape, and in the midst of the windy blasts they stood unmoved and firm, just like a clump of petrified cedars. i hastened forward. i could not give any name to these singular creations. were they some of the two hundred thousand species of vegetables known hitherto, and did they claim a place of their own in the lacustrine flora? no; when we arrived under their shade my surprise turned into admiration. there stood before me productions of earth, but of gigantic stature, which my uncle immediately named. "it is only a forest of mushrooms," said he. and he was right. imagine the large development attained by these plants, which prefer a warm, moist climate. i knew that the _lycopodon giganteum_ attains, according to bulliard, a circumference of eight or nine feet; but here were pale mushrooms, thirty to forty feet high, and crowned with a cap of equal diameter. there they stood in thousands. no light could penetrate between their huge cones, and complete darkness reigned beneath those giants; they formed settlements of domes placed in close array like the round, thatched roofs of a central african city. yet i wanted to penetrate farther underneath, though a chill fell upon me as soon as i came under those cellular vaults. for half an hour we wandered from side to side in the damp shades, and it was a comfortable and pleasant change to arrive once more upon the sea shore. but the subterranean vegetation was not confined to these fungi. farther on rose groups of tall trees of colourless foliage and easy to recognise. they were lowly shrubs of earth, here attaining gigantic size; lycopodiums, a hundred feet high; the huge sigillaria, found in our coal mines; tree ferns, as tall as our fir-trees in northern latitudes; lepidodendra, with cylindrical forked stems, terminated by long leaves, and bristling with rough hairs like those of the cactus. "wonderful, magnificent, splendid!" cried my uncle. "here is the entire flora of the second period of the world--the transition period. these, humble garden plants with us, were tall trees in the early ages. look, axel, and admire it all. never had botanist such a feast as this!" "you are right, my uncle. providence seems to have preserved in this immense conservatory the antediluvian plants which the wisdom of philosophers has so sagaciously put together again." "it is a conservatory, axel; but is it not also a menagerie?" "surely not a menagerie!" "yes; no doubt of it. look at that dust under your feet; see the bones scattered on the ground." "so there are!" i cried; "bones of extinct animals." i had rushed upon these remains, formed of indestructible phosphates of lime, and without hesitation i named these monstrous bones, which lay scattered about like decayed 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. it certainly is a menagerie, for these remains were not brought here by a deluge. the animals to which they belonged roamed on the shores of this subterranean sea, under the shade of those arborescent trees. here are entire skeletons. and yet i cannot understand the appearance of these quadrupeds in a granite cavern." [ ] these animals belonged to a late geological period, the pliocene, just before the glacial epoch, and therefore could have no connection with the carboniferous vegetation. (trans.) "why?" "because animal life existed upon the earth only in the secondary period, when a sediment of soil had been deposited by the rivers, and taken the place of the incandescent rocks of the primitive period." "well, axel, there is a very simple answer to your objection that this soil is alluvial." "what! at such a depth below the surface of the earth?" "no doubt; and there is a geological explanation of the fact. at a certain period the earth consisted only of an elastic crust or bark, alternately acted on by forces from above or below, according to the laws of attraction and gravitation. probably there were subsidences of the outer crust, when a portion of the sedimentary deposits was carried down sudden openings." "that may be," i replied; "but if there have been creatures now extinct in these underground regions, why may not some of those monsters be now roaming through these gloomy forests, or hidden behind the steep crags?" and as this unpleasant notion got hold of me, i surveyed with anxious scrutiny the open spaces before me; but no living creature appeared upon the barren strand. i felt rather tired, and went to sit down at the end of a promontory, at the foot of which the waves came and beat themselves into spray. thence my eye could sweep every part of the bay; within its extremity a little harbour was formed between the pyramidal cliffs, where the still waters slept untouched by the boisterous winds. a brig and two or three schooners might have moored within it in safety. i almost fancied i should presently see some ship issue from it, full sail, and take to the open sea under the southern breeze. but this illusion lasted a very short time. we were the only living creatures in this subterranean world. when the wind lulled, a deeper silence than that of the deserts fell upon the arid, naked rocks, and weighed upon the surface of the ocean. i then desired to pierce the distant haze, and to rend asunder the mysterious curtain that hung across the horizon. anxious queries arose to my lips. where did that sea terminate? where did it lead to? should we ever know anything about its opposite shores? my uncle made no doubt about it at all; i both desired and feared. after spending an hour in the contemplation of this marvellous spectacle, we returned to the shore to regain the grotto, and i fell asleep in the midst of the strangest thoughts. chapter xxxi. preparations for a voyage of discovery the next morning i awoke feeling perfectly well. i thought a bathe would do me good, and i went to plunge for a few minutes into the waters of this mediterranean sea, for assuredly it better deserved this name than any other sea. i came back to breakfast with a good appetite. hans was a good caterer for our little household; he had water and fire at his disposal, so that he was able to vary our bill of fare now and then. for dessert he gave us a few cups of coffee, and never was coffee so delicious. "now," said my uncle, "now is the time for high tide, and we must not lose the opportunity to study this phenomenon." "what! the tide!" i cried. "can the influence of the sun and moon be felt down here?" "why not? are not all bodies subject throughout their mass to the power of universal attraction? this mass of water cannot escape the general law. and in spite of the heavy atmospheric pressure on the surface, you will see it rise like the atlantic itself." at the same moment we reached the sand on the shore, and the waves were by slow degrees encroaching on the shore. "here is the tide rising," i cried. "yes, axel; and judging by these ridges of foam, you may observe that the sea will rise about twelve feet." "this is wonderful," i said. "no; it is quite natural." "you may say so, uncle; but to me it is most extraordinary, and i can hardly believe my eyes. who would ever have imagined, under this terrestrial crust, an ocean with ebbing and flowing tides, with winds and storms?" "well," replied my uncle, "is there any scientific reason against it?" "no; i see none, as soon as the theory of central heat is given up." "so then, thus far," he answered, "the theory of sir humphry davy is confirmed." "evidently it is; and now there is no reason why there should not be seas and continents in the interior of the earth." "no doubt," said my uncle; "and inhabited too." "to be sure," said i; "and why should not these waters yield to us fishes of unknown species?" "at any rate," he replied, "we have not seen any yet." "well, let us make some lines, and see if the bait will draw here as it does in sublunary regions." "we will try, axel, for we must penetrate all secrets of these newly discovered regions." "but where are we, uncle? for i have not yet asked you that question, and your instruments must be able to furnish the answer." "horizontally, three hundred and fifty leagues from iceland." "so much as that?" "i am sure of not being a mile out of my reckoning." "and does the compass still show south-east?" "yes; with a westerly deviation of nineteen degrees forty-five minutes, just as above ground. as for its dip, a curious fact is coming to light, which i have observed carefully: that the needle, instead of dipping towards the pole as in the northern hemisphere, on the contrary, rises from it." "would you then conclude," i said, "that the magnetic pole is somewhere between the surface of the globe and the point where we are?" "exactly so; and it is likely enough that if we were to reach the spot beneath the polar regions, about that seventy-first degree where sir james ross has discovered the magnetic pole to be situated, we should see the needle point straight up. therefore that mysterious centre of attraction is at no great depth." i remarked: "it is so; and here is a fact which science has scarcely suspected." "science, my lad, has been built upon many errors; but they are errors which it was good to fall into, for they led to the truth." "what depth have we now reached?" "we are thirty-five leagues below the surface." "so," i said, examining the map, "the highlands of scotland are over our heads, and the grampians are raising their rugged summits above us." "yes," answered the professor laughing. "it is rather a heavy weight to bear, but a solid arch spans over our heads. the great architect has built it of the best materials; and never could man have given it so wide a stretch. what are the finest arches of bridges and the arcades of cathedrals, compared with this far reaching vault, with a radius of three leagues, beneath which a wide and tempest-tossed ocean may flow at its ease?" "oh, i am not afraid that it will fall down upon my head. but now what are your plans? are you not thinking of returning to the surface now?" "return! no, indeed! we will continue our journey, everything having gone on well so far." "but how are we to get down below this liquid surface?" "oh, i am not going to dive head foremost. but if all oceans are properly speaking but lakes, since they are encompassed by land, of course this internal sea will be surrounded by a coast of granite, and on the opposite shores we shall find fresh passages opening." "how long do you suppose this sea to be?" "thirty or forty leagues; so that we have no time to lose, and we shall set sail to-morrow." i looked about for a ship. "set sail, shall we? but i should like to see my boat first." "it will not be a boat at all, but a good, well-made raft." "why," i said, "a raft would be just as hard to make as a boat, and i don't see--" "i know you don't see; but you might hear if you would listen. don't you hear the hammer at work? hans is already busy at it." "what, has he already felled the trees?" "oh, the trees were already down. come, and you will see for yourself." after half an hour's walking, on the other side of the promontory which formed the little natural harbour, i perceived hans at work. in a few more steps i was at his side. to my great surprise a half-finished raft was already lying on the sand, made of a peculiar kind of wood, and a great number of planks, straight and bent, and of frames, were covering the ground, enough almost for a little fleet. "uncle, what wood is this?" i cried. "it is fir, pine, or birch, and other northern coniferae, mineralised by the action of the sea. it is called surturbrand, a variety of brown coal or lignite, found chiefly in iceland." "but surely, then, like other fossil wood, it must be as hard as stone, and cannot float?" "sometimes that may happen; some of these woods become true anthracites; but others, such as this, have only gone through the first stage of fossil transformation. just look," added my uncle, throwing into the sea one of those precious waifs. the bit of wood, after disappearing, returned to the surface and oscillated to and fro with the waves. "are you convinced?" said my uncle. "i am quite convinced, although it is incredible!" by next evening, thanks to the industry and skill of our guide, the raft was made. it was ten feet by five; the planks of surturbrand, braced strongly together with cords, presented an even surface, and when launched this improvised vessel floated easily upon the waves of the liedenbrock sea. chapter xxxii. wonders of the deep on the th of august we awoke early. we were now to begin to adopt a mode of travelling both more expeditious and less fatiguing than hitherto. a mast was made of two poles spliced together, a yard was made of a third, a blanket borrowed from our coverings made a tolerable sail. there was no want of cordage for the rigging, and everything was well and firmly made. the provisions, the baggage, the instruments, the guns, and a good quantity of fresh water from the rocks around, all found their proper places on board; and at six the professor gave the signal to embark. hans had fitted up a rudder to steer his vessel. he took the tiller, and unmoored; the sail was set, and we were soon afloat. at the moment of leaving the harbour, my uncle, who was tenaciously fond of naming his new discoveries, wanted to give it a name, and proposed mine amongst others. "but i have a better to propose," i said: "grauben. let it be called port gräuben; it will look very well upon the map." "port gräuben let it be then." and so the cherished remembrance of my virlandaise became associated with our adventurous expedition. the wind was from the north-west. we went with it at a high rate of speed. the dense atmosphere acted with great force and impelled us swiftly on. in an hour my uncle had been able to estimate our progress. at this rate, he said, we shall make thirty leagues in twenty-four hours, and we shall soon come in sight of the opposite shore. i made no answer, but went and sat forward. the northern shore was already beginning to dip under the horizon. the eastern and western strands spread wide as if to bid us farewell. before our eyes lay far and wide a vast sea; shadows of great clouds swept heavily over its silver-grey surface; the glistening bluish rays of electric light, here and there reflected by the dancing drops of spray, shot out little sheaves of light from the track we left in our rear. soon we entirely lost sight of land; no object was left for the eye to judge by, and but for the frothy track of the raft, i might have thought we were standing still. about twelve, immense shoals of seaweeds came in sight. i was aware of the great powers of vegetation that characterise these plants, which grow at a depth of twelve thousand feet, reproduce themselves under a pressure of four hundred atmospheres, and sometimes form barriers strong enough to impede the course of a ship. but never, i think, were such seaweeds as those which we saw floating in immense waving lines upon the sea of liedenbrock. our raft skirted the whole length of the fuci, three or four thousand feet long, undulating like vast serpents beyond the reach of sight; i found some amusement in tracing these endless waves, always thinking i should come to the end of them, and for hours my patience was vying with my surprise. what natural force could have produced such plants, and what must have been the appearance of the earth in the first ages of its formation, when, under the action of heat and moisture, the vegetable kingdom alone was developing on its surface? evening came, and, as on the previous day, i perceived no change in the luminous condition of the air. it was a constant condition, the permanency of which might be relied upon. after supper i laid myself down at the foot of the mast, and fell asleep in the midst of fantastic reveries. hans, keeping fast by the helm, let the raft run on, which, after all, needed no steering, the wind blowing directly aft. since our departure from port gräuben, professor liedenbrock had entrusted the log to my care; i was to register every observation, make entries of interesting phenomena, the direction of the wind, the rate of sailing, the way we made--in a word, every particular of our singular voyage. i shall therefore reproduce here these daily notes, written, so to speak, as the course of events directed, in order to furnish an exact narrative of our passage. _friday, august _.--wind steady, n.w. the raft makes rapid way in a direct line. coast thirty leagues to leeward. nothing in sight before us. intensity of light the same. weather fine; that is to say, that the clouds are flying high, are light, and bathed in a white atmosphere resembling silver in a state of fusion. therm. ° fahr. at noon hans prepared a hook at the end of a line. he baited it with a small piece of meat and flung it into the sea. for two hours nothing was caught. are these waters, then, bare of inhabitants? no, there's a pull at the line. hans draws it in and brings out a struggling fish. "a sturgeon," i cried; "a small sturgeon." the professor eyes the creature attentively, and his opinion differs from mine. the head of this fish was flat, but rounded in front, and the anterior part of its body was plated with bony, angular scales; it had no teeth, its pectoral fins were large, and of tail there was none. the animal belonged to the same order as the sturgeon, but differed from that fish in many essential particulars. after a short examination my uncle pronounced his opinion. "this fish belongs to an extinct family, of which only fossil traces are found in the devonian formations." "what!" i cried. "have we taken alive an inhabitant of the seas of primitive ages?" "yes; and you will observe that these fossil fishes have no identity with any living species. to have in one's possession a living specimen is a happy event for a naturalist." "but to what family does it belong?" "it is of the order of ganoids, of the family of the cephalaspidae; and a species of pterichthys. but this one displays a peculiarity confined to all fishes that inhabit subterranean waters. it is blind, and not only blind, but actually has no eyes at all." i looked: nothing could be more certain. but supposing it might be a solitary case, we baited afresh, and threw out our line. surely this ocean is well peopled with fish, for in another couple of hours we took a large quantity of pterichthydes, as well as of others belonging to the extinct family of the dipterides, but of which my uncle could not tell the species; none had organs of sight. this unhoped-for catch recruited our stock of provisions. thus it is evident that this sea contains none but species known to us in their fossil state, in which fishes as well as reptiles are the less perfectly and completely organised the farther back their date of creation. perhaps we may yet meet with some of those saurians which science has reconstructed out of a bit of bone or cartilage. i took up the telescope and scanned the whole horizon, and found it everywhere a desert sea. we are far away removed from the shores. i gaze upward in the air. why should not some of the strange birds restored by the immortal cuvier again flap their 'sail-broad vans' in this dense and heavy atmosphere? there are sufficient fish for their support. i survey the whole space that stretches overhead; it is as desert as the shore was. still my imagination carried me away amongst the wonderful speculations of palæontology. though awake i fell into a dream. i thought i could see floating on the surface of the waters enormous chelonia, pre-adamite tortoises, resembling floating islands. over the dimly lighted strand there trod the huge mammals of the first ages of the world, the leptotherium (slender beast), found in the caverns of brazil; the merycotherium (ruminating beast), found in the 'drift' of iceclad siberia. farther on, the pachydermatous lophiodon (crested toothed), a gigantic tapir, hides behind the rocks to dispute its prey with the anoplotherium (unarmed beast), a strange creature, which seemed a compound of horse, rhinoceros, camel, and hippopotamus. the colossal mastodon (nipple-toothed) twists and untwists his trunk, and brays and pounds with his huge tusks the fragments of rock that cover the shore; whilst the megatherium (huge beast), buttressed upon his enormous hinder paws, grubs in the soil, awaking the sonorous echoes of the granite rocks with his tremendous roarings. higher up, the protopitheca--the first monkey that appeared on the globe--is climbing up the steep ascents. higher yet, the pterodactyle (wing-fingered) darts in irregular zigzags to and fro in the heavy air. in the uppermost regions of the air immense birds, more powerful than the cassowary, and larger than the ostrich, spread their vast breadth of wings and strike with their heads the granite vault that bounds the sky. all this fossil world rises to life again in my vivid imagination. i return to the scriptural periods or ages of the world, conventionally called 'days,' long before the appearance of man, when the unfinished world was as yet unfitted for his support. then my dream backed even farther still into the ages before the creation of living beings. the mammals disappear, then the birds vanish, then the reptiles of the secondary period, and finally the fish, the crustaceans, molluscs, and articulated beings. then the zoophytes of the transition period also return to nothing. i am the only living thing in the world: all life is concentrated in my beating heart alone. there are no more seasons; climates are no more; the heat of the globe continually increases and neutralises that of the sun. vegetation becomes accelerated. i glide like a shade amongst arborescent ferns, treading with unsteady feet the coloured marls and the particoloured clays; i lean for support against the trunks of immense conifers; i lie in the shade of sphenophylla (wedge-leaved), asterophylla (star-leaved), and lycopods, a hundred feet high. ages seem no more than days! i am passed, against my will, in retrograde order, through the long series of terrestrial changes. plants disappear; granite rocks soften; intense heat converts solid bodies into thick fluids; the waters again cover the face of the earth; they boil, they rise in whirling eddies of steam; white and ghastly mists wrap round the shifting forms of the earth, which by imperceptible degrees dissolves into a gaseous mass, glowing fiery red and white, as large and as shining as the sun. and i myself am floating with wild caprice in the midst of this nebulous mass of fourteen hundred thousand times the volume of the earth into which it will one day be condensed, and carried forward amongst the planetary bodies. my body is no longer firm and terrestrial; it is resolved into its constituent atoms, subtilised, volatilised. sublimed into imponderable vapour, i mingle and am lost in the endless foods of those vast globular volumes of vaporous mists, which roll upon their flaming orbits through infinite space. but is it not a dream? whither is it carrying me? my feverish hand has vainly attempted to describe upon paper its strange and wonderful details. i have forgotten everything that surrounds me. the professor, the guide, the raft--are all gone out of my ken. an illusion has laid hold upon me. "what is the matter?" my uncle breaks in. my staring eyes are fixed vacantly upon him. "take care, axel, or you will fall overboard." at that moment i felt the sinewy hand of hans seizing me vigorously. but for him, carried away by my dream, i should have thrown myself into the sea. "is he mad?" cried the professor. "what is it all about?" at last i cried, returning to myself. "do you feel ill?" my uncle asked. "no; but i have had a strange hallucination; it is over now. is all going on right?" "yes, it is a fair wind and a fine sea; we are sailing rapidly along, and if i am not out in my reckoning, we shall soon land." at these words i rose and gazed round upon the horizon, still everywhere bounded by clouds alone. chapter xxxiii. a battle of monsters _saturday, august _.--the sea unbroken all round. no land in sight. the horizon seems extremely distant. my head is still stupefied with the vivid reality of my dream. my uncle has had no dreams, but he is out of temper. he examines the horizon all round with his glass, and folds his arms with the air of an injured man. i remark that professor liedenbrock has a tendency to relapse into an impatient mood, and i make a note of it in my log. all my danger and sufferings were needed to strike a spark of human feeling out of him; but now that i am well his nature has resumed its sway. and yet, what cause was there for anger? is not the voyage prospering as favourably as possible under the circumstances? is not the raft spinning along with marvellous speed? "-you seem anxious, my uncle," i said, seeing him continually with his glass to his eye. "anxious! no, not at all." "impatient, then?" "one might be, with less reason than now." "yet we are going very fast." "what does that signify? i am not complaining that the rate is slow, but that the sea is so wide." i then remembered that the professor, before starting, had estimated the length of this underground sea at thirty leagues. now we had made three times the distance, yet still the southern coast was not in sight. "we are not descending as we ought to be," the professor declares. "we are losing time, and the fact is, i have not come all this way to take a little sail upon a pond on a raft." he called this sea a pond, and our long voyage, taking a little sail! "but," i remarked, "since we have followed the road that saknussemm has shown us--" "that is just the question. have we followed that road? did saknussemm meet this sheet of water? did he cross it? has not the stream that we followed led us altogether astray?" "at any rate we cannot feel sorry to have come so far. this prospect is magnificent, and--" "but i don't care for prospects. i came with an object, and i mean to attain it. therefore don't talk to me about views and prospects." i take this as my answer, and i leave the professor to bite his lips with impatience. at six in the evening hans asks for his wages, and his three rix dollars are counted out to him. _sunday, august . _--nothing new. weather unchanged. the wind freshens. on awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. i was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim, or fail altogether. but there seemed no reason to fear. the shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves. truly this sea is of infinite width. it must be as wide as the mediterranean or the atlantic--and why not? my uncle took soundings several times. he tied the heaviest of our pickaxes to a long rope which he let down two hundred fathoms. no bottom yet; and we had some difficulty in hauling up our plummet. but when the pick was shipped again, hans pointed out on its surface deep prints as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies. i looked at the hunter. "_tänder,_" said he. i could not understand him, and turned to my uncle who was entirely absorbed in his calculations. i had rather not disturb him while he is quiet. i return to the icelander. he by a snapping motion of his jaws conveys his ideas to me. "teeth!" i cried, considering the iron bar with more attention. yes, indeed, those are the marks of teeth imprinted upon the metal! the jaws which they arm must be possessed of amazing strength. is there some monster beneath us belonging to the extinct races, more voracious than the shark, more fearful in vastness than the whale? i could not take my eyes off this indented iron bar. surely will my last night's dream be realised? these thoughts agitated me all day, and my imagination scarcely calmed down after several hours' sleep. _monday, august .--_ i am trying to recall the peculiar instincts of the monsters of the pre-adamite world, who, coming next in succession after the molluscs, the crustaceans and le fishes, preceded the animals of mammalian race upon the earth. the world then belonged to reptiles. those monsters held the mastery in the seas of the secondary period. they possessed a perfect organisation, gigantic proportions, prodigious strength. the saurians of our day, the alligators and the crocodiles, are but feeble reproductions of their forefathers of primitive ages. i shudder as i recall these monsters to my remembrance. no human eye has ever beheld them living. they burdened this earth a thousand ages before man appeared, but their fossil remains, found in the argillaceous limestone called by the english the lias, have enabled their colossal structure to be perfectly built up again and anatomically ascertained. i saw at the hamburg museum the skeleton of one of these creatures thirty feet in length. am i then fated--i, a denizen of earth--to be placed face to face with these representatives of long extinct families? no; surely it cannot be! yet the deep marks of conical teeth upon the iron pick are certainly those of the crocodile. my eyes are fearfully bent upon the sea. i dread to see one of these monsters darting forth from its submarine caverns. i suppose professor liedenbrock was of my opinion too, and even shared my fears, for after having examined the pick, his eyes traversed the ocean from side to side. what a very bad notion that was of his, i thought to myself, to take soundings just here! he has disturbed some monstrous beast in its remote den, and if we are not attacked on our voyage-- i look at our guns and see that they are all right. my uncle notices it, and looks on approvingly. already widely disturbed regions on the surface of the water indicate some commotion below. the danger is approaching. we must be on the look out. _tuesday, august . _--evening came, or rather the time came when sleep weighs down the weary eyelids, for there is no night here, and the ceaseless light wearies the eyes with its persistency just as if we were sailing under an arctic sun. hans was at the helm. during his watch i slept. two hours afterwards a terrible shock awoke me. the raft was heaved up on a watery mountain and pitched down again, at a distance of twenty fathoms. "what is the matter?" shouted my uncle. "have we struck land?" hans pointed with his finger at a dark mass six hundred yards away, rising and falling alternately with heavy plunges. i looked and cried: "it is an enormous porpoise." "yes," replied my uncle, "and there is a sea lizard of vast size." "and farther on a monstrous crocodile. look at its vast jaws and its rows of teeth! it is diving down!" "there's a whale, a whale!" cried the professor. "i can see its great fins. see how he is throwing out air and water through his blowers." and in fact two liquid columns were rising to a considerable height above the sea. we stood amazed, thunderstruck, at the presence of such a herd of marine monsters. they were of supernatural dimensions; the smallest of them would have crunched our raft, crew and all, at one snap of its huge jaws. hans wants to tack to get away from this dangerous neighbourhood; but he sees on the other hand enemies not less terrible; a tortoise forty feet long, and a serpent of thirty, lifting its fearful head and gleaming eyes above the flood. flight was out of the question now. the reptiles rose; they wheeled around our little raft with a rapidity greater than that of express trains. they described around us gradually narrowing circles. i took up my rifle. but what could a ball do against the scaly armour with which these enormous beasts were clad? we stood dumb with fear. they approach us close: on one side the crocodile, on the other the serpent. the remainder of the sea monsters have disappeared. i prepare to fire. hans stops me by a gesture. the two monsters pass within a hundred and fifty yards of the raft, and hurl themselves the one upon the other, with a fury which prevents them from seeing us. at three hundred yards from us the battle was fought. we could distinctly observe the two monsters engaged in deadly conflict. but it now seems to me as if the other animals were taking part in the fray--the porpoise, the whale, the lizard, the tortoise. every moment i seem to see one or other of them. i point them to the icelander. he shakes his head negatively. "_tva,_" says he. "what two? does he mean that there are only two animals?" "he is right," said my uncle, whose glass has never left his eye. "surely you must be mistaken," i cried. "no: the first of those monsters has a porpoise's snout, a lizard's head, a crocodile's teeth; and hence our mistake. it is the ichthyosaurus (the fish lizard), the most terrible of the ancient monsters of the deep." "and the other?" "the other is a plesiosaurus (almost lizard), a serpent, armoured with the carapace and the paddles of a turtle; he is the dreadful enemy of the other." hans had spoken truly. two monsters only were creating all this commotion; and before my eyes are two reptiles of the primitive world. i can distinguish the eye of the ichthyosaurus glowing like a red-hot coal, and as large as a man's head. nature has endowed it with an optical apparatus of extreme power, and capable of resisting the pressure of the great volume of water in the depths it inhabits. it has been appropriately called the saurian whale, for it has both the swiftness and the rapid movements of this monster of our own day. this one is not less than a hundred feet long, and i can judge of its size when it sweeps over the waters the vertical coils of its tail. its jaw is enormous, and according to naturalists it is armed with no less than one hundred and eighty-two teeth. the plesiosaurus, a serpent with a cylindrical body and a short tail, has four flappers or paddles to act like oars. its body is entirely covered with a thick armour of scales, and its neck, as flexible as a swan's, rises thirty feet above the waves. those huge creatures attacked each other with the greatest animosity. they heaved around them liquid mountains, which rolled even to our raft and rocked it perilously. twenty times we were near capsizing. hissings of prodigious force are heard. the two beasts are fast locked together; i cannot distinguish the one from the other. the probable rage of the conqueror inspires us with intense fear. one hour, two hours, pass away. the struggle continues with unabated ferocity. the combatants alternately approach and recede from our raft. we remain motionless, ready to fire. suddenly the ichthyosaurus and the plesiosaurus disappear below, leaving a whirlpool eddying in the water. several minutes pass by while the fight goes on under water. all at once an enormous head is darted up, the head of the plesiosaurus. the monster is wounded to death. i no longer see his scaly armour. only his long neck shoots up, drops again, coils and uncoils, droops, lashes the waters like a gigantic whip, and writhes like a worm that you tread on. the water is splashed for a long way around. the spray almost blinds us. but soon the reptile's agony draws to an end; its movements become fainter, its contortions cease to be so violent, and the long serpentine form lies a lifeless log on the labouring deep. as for the ichthyosaurus--has he returned to his submarine cavern? or will he reappear on the surface of the sea? chapter xxxiv. the great geyser _wednesday, august _.--fortunately the wind blows violently, and has enabled us to flee from the scene of the late terrible struggle. hans keeps at his post at the helm. my uncle, whom the absorbing incidents of the combat had drawn away from his contemplations, began again to look impatiently around him. the voyage resumes its uniform tenor, which i don't care to break with a repetition of such events as yesterday's. thursday, aug. .--wind n.n.e., unsteady and fitful. temperature high. rate three and a half leagues an hour. about noon a distant noise is heard. i note the fact without being able to explain it. it is a continuous roar. "in the distance," says the professor, "there is a rock or islet, against which the sea is breaking." hans climbs up the mast, but sees no breakers. the ocean' is smooth and unbroken to its farthest limit. three hours pass away. the roarings seem to proceed from a very distant waterfall. i remark upon this to my uncle, who replies doubtfully: "yes, i am convinced that i am right." are we, then, speeding forward to some cataract which will cast us down an abyss? this method of getting on may please the professor, because it is vertical; but for my part i prefer the more ordinary modes of horizontal progression. at any rate, some leagues to the windward there must be some noisy phenomenon, for now the roarings are heard with increasing loudness. do they proceed from the sky or the ocean? i look up to the atmospheric vapours, and try to fathom their depths. the sky is calm and motionless. the clouds have reached the utmost limit of the lofty vault, and there lie still bathed in the bright glare of the electric light. it is not there that we must seek for the cause of this phenomenon. then i examine the horizon, which is unbroken and clear of all mist. there is no change in its aspect. but if this noise arises from a fall, a cataract, if all this ocean flows away headlong into a lower basin yet, if that deafening roar is produced by a mass of falling water, the current must needs accelerate, and its increasing speed will give me the measure of the peril that threatens us. i consult the current: there is none. i throw an empty bottle into the sea: it lies still. about four hans rises, lays hold of the mast, climbs to its top. thence his eye sweeps a large area of sea, and it is fixed upon a point. his countenance exhibits no surprise, but his eye is immovably steady. "he sees something," says my uncle. "i believe he does." hans comes down, then stretches his arm to the south, saying: "_dere nere!_" "down there?" repeated my uncle. then, seizing his glass, he gazes attentively for a minute, which seems to me an age. "yes, yes!" he cried. "i see a vast inverted cone rising from the surface." "is it another sea beast?" "perhaps it is." "then let us steer farther westward, for we know something of the danger of coming across monsters of that sort." "let us go straight on," replied my uncle. i appealed to hans. he maintained his course inflexibly. yet, if at our present distance from the animal, a distance of twelve leagues at the least, the column of water driven through its blowers may be distinctly seen, it must needs be of vast size. the commonest prudence would counsel immediate flight; but we did not come so far to be prudent. imprudently, therefore, we pursue our way. the nearer we approach, the higher mounts the jet of water. what monster can possibly fill itself with such a quantity of water, and spurt it up so continuously? at eight in the evening we are not two leagues distant from it. its body--dusky, enormous, hillocky--lies spread upon the sea like an islet. is it illusion or fear? its length seems to me a couple of thousand yards. what can be this cetacean, which neither cuvier nor blumenbach knew anything about? it lies motionless, as if asleep; the sea seems unable to move it in the least; it is the waves that undulate upon its sides. the column of water thrown up to a height of five hundred feet falls in rain with a deafening uproar. and here are we scudding like lunatics before the wind, to get near to a monster that a hundred whales a day would not satisfy! terror seizes upon me. i refuse to go further. i will cut the halliards if necessary! i am in open mutiny against the professor, who vouchsafes no answer. suddenly hans rises, and pointing with his finger at the menacing object, he says: "_holm._" "an island!" cries my uncle. "that's not an island!" i cried sceptically. "it's nothing else," shouted the professor, with a loud laugh. "but that column of water?" "_geyser,_" said hans. "no doubt it is a geyser, like those in iceland." at first i protest against being so widely mistaken as to have taken an island for a marine monster. but the evidence is against me, and i have to confess my error. it is nothing worse than a natural phenomenon. as we approach nearer the dimensions of the liquid column become magnificent. the islet resembles, with a most deceiving likeness, an enormous cetacean, whose head dominates the waves at a height of twenty yards. the geyser, a word meaning 'fury,' rises majestically from its extremity. deep and heavy explosions are heard from time to time, when the enormous jet, possessed with more furious violence, shakes its plumy crest, and springs with a bound till it reaches the lowest stratum of the clouds. it stands alone. no steam vents, no hot springs surround it, and all the volcanic power of the region is concentrated here. sparks of electric fire mingle with the dazzling sheaf of lighted fluid, every drop of which refracts the prismatic colours. "let us land," said the professor. "but we must carefully avoid this waterspout, which would sink our raft in a moment." hans, steering with his usual skill, brought us to the other extremity of the islet. i leaped up on the rock; my uncle lightly followed, while our hunter remained at his post, like a man too wise ever to be astonished. we walked upon granite mingled with siliceous tufa. the soil shivers and shakes under our feet, like the sides of an overheated boiler filled with steam struggling to get loose. we come in sight of a small central basin, out of which the geyser springs. i plunge a register thermometer into the boiling water. it marks an intense heat of °, which is far above the boiling point; therefore this water issues from an ardent furnace, which is not at all in harmony with professor liedenbrock's theories. i cannot help making the remark. "well," he replied, "how does that make against my doctrine?" "oh, nothing at all," i said, seeing that i was going in opposition to immovable obstinacy. still i am constrained to confess that hitherto we have been wonderfully favoured, and that for some reason unknown to myself we have accomplished our journey under singularly favourable conditions of temperature. but it seems manifest to me that some day we shall reach a region where the central heat attains its highest limits, and goes beyond a point that can be registered by our thermometers. "that is what we shall see." so says the professor, who, having named this volcanic islet after his nephew, gives the signal to embark again. for some minutes i am still contemplating the geyser. i notice that it throws up its column of water with variable force: sometimes sending it to a great height, then again to a lower, which i attribute to the variable pressure of the steam accumulated in its reservoir. at last we leave the island, rounding away past the low rocks on its southern shore. hans has taken advantage of the halt to refit his rudder. but before going any farther i make a few observations, to calculate the distance we have gone over, and note them in my journal. we have crossed two hundred and seventy leagues of sea since leaving port gräuben; and we are six hundred and twenty leagues from iceland, under england. [ ] [ ] this distance carries the travellers as far as under the pyrenees if the league measures three miles. (trans.) chapter xxxv. an electric storm _friday, august _.--on the morrow the magnificent geyser has disappeared. the wind has risen, and has rapidly carried us away from axel island. the roarings become lost in the distance. the weather--if we may use that term--will change before long. the atmosphere is charged with vapours, pervaded with the electricity generated by the evaporation of saline waters. the clouds are sinking lower, and assume an olive hue. the electric light can scarcely penetrate through the dense curtain which has dropped over the theatre on which the battle of the elements is about to be waged. i feel peculiar sensations, like many creatures on earth at the approach of violent atmospheric changes. the heavily voluted cumulus clouds lower gloomily and threateningly; they wear that implacable look which i have sometimes noticed at the outbreak of a great storm. the air is heavy; the sea is calm. in the distance the clouds resemble great bales of cotton, piled up in picturesque disorder. by degrees they dilate, and gain in huge size what they lose in number. such is their ponderous weight that they cannot rise from the horizon; but, obeying an impulse from higher currents, their dense consistency slowly yields. the gloom upon them deepens; and they soon present to our view a ponderous mass of almost level surface. from time to time a fleecy tuft of mist, with yet some gleaming light left upon it, drops down upon the dense floor of grey, and loses itself in the opaque and impenetrable mass. the atmosphere is evidently charged and surcharged with electricity. my whole body is saturated; my hair bristles just as when you stand upon an insulated stool under the action of an electrical machine. it seems to me as if my companions, the moment they touched me, would receive a severe shock like that from an electric eel. at ten in the morning the symptoms of storm become aggravated. the wind never lulls but to acquire increased strength; the vast bank of heavy clouds is a huge reservoir of fearful windy gusts and rushing storms. i am loth to believe these atmospheric menaces, and yet i cannot help muttering: "here's some very bad weather coming on." the professor made no answer. his temper is awful, to judge from the working of his features, as he sees this vast length of ocean unrolling before him to an indefinite extent. he can only spare time to shrug his shoulders viciously. "there's a heavy storm coming on," i cried, pointing towards the horizon. "those clouds seem as if they were going to crush the sea." a deep silence falls on all around. the lately roaring winds are hushed into a dead calm; nature seems to breathe no more, and to be sinking into the stillness of death. on the mast already i see the light play of a lambent st. elmo's fire; the outstretched sail catches not a breath of wind, and hangs like a sheet of lead. the rudder stands motionless in a sluggish, waveless sea. but if we have now ceased to advance why do we yet leave that sail loose, which at the first shock of the tempest may capsize us in a moment? "let us reef the sail and cut the mast down!" i cried. "that will be safest." "no, no! never!" shouted my impetuous uncle. "never! let the wind catch us if it will! what i want is to get the least glimpse of rock or shore, even if our raft should be smashed into shivers!" the words were hardly out of his mouth when a sudden change took place in the southern sky. the piled-up vapours condense into water; and the air, put into violent action to supply the vacuum left by the condensation of the mists, rouses itself into a whirlwind. it rushes on from the farthest recesses of the vast cavern. the darkness deepens; scarcely can i jot down a few hurried notes. the helm makes a bound. my uncle falls full length; i creep close to him. he has laid a firm hold upon a rope, and appears to watch with grim satisfaction this awful display of elemental strife. hans stirs not. his long hair blown by the pelting storm, and laid flat across his immovable countenance, makes him a strange figure; for the end of each lock of loose flowing hair is tipped with little luminous radiations. this frightful mask of electric sparks suggests to me, even in this dizzy excitement, a comparison with pre-adamite man, the contemporary of the ichthyosaurus and the megatherium. [ ] [ ] rather of the mammoth and the mastodon. (trans.) the mast yet holds firm. the sail stretches tight like a bubble ready to burst. the raft flies at a rate that i cannot reckon, but not so fast as the foaming clouds of spray which it dashes from side to side in its headlong speed. "the sail! the sail!" i cry, motioning to lower it. "no!" replies my uncle. "_nej!_" repeats hans, leisurely shaking his head. but now the rain forms a rushing cataract in front of that horizon toward which we are running with such maddening speed. but before it has reached us the rain cloud parts asunder, the sea boils, and the electric fires are brought into violent action by a mighty chemical power that descends from the higher regions. the most vivid flashes of lightning are mingled with the violent crash of continuous thunder. ceaseless fiery arrows dart in and out amongst the flying thunder-clouds; the vaporous mass soon glows with incandescent heat; hailstones rattle fiercely down, and as they dash upon our iron tools they too emit gleams and flashes of lurid light. the heaving waves resemble fiery volcanic hills, each belching forth its own interior flames, and every crest is plumed with dancing fire. my eyes fail under the dazzling light, my ears are stunned with the incessant crash of thunder. i must be bound to the mast, which bows like a reed before the mighty strength of the storm. (here my notes become vague and indistinct. i have only been able to find a few which i seem to have jotted down almost unconsciously. but their very brevity and their obscurity reveal the intensity of the excitement which dominated me, and describe the actual position even better than my memory could do.) sunday, .--where are we? driven forward with a swiftness that cannot be measured. the night was fearful; no abatement of the storm. the din and uproar are incessant; our ears are bleeding; to exchange a word is impossible. the lightning flashes with intense brilliancy, and never seems to cease for a moment. zigzag streams of bluish white fire dash down upon the sea and rebound, and then take an upward flight till they strike the granite vault that overarches our heads. suppose that solid roof should crumble down upon our heads! other flashes with incessant play cross their vivid fires, while others again roll themselves into balls of living fire which explode like bombshells, but the music of which scarcely-adds to the din of the battle strife that almost deprives us of our senses of hearing and sight; the limit of intense loudness has been passed within which the human ear can distinguish one sound from another. if all the powder magazines in the world were to explode at once, we should hear no more than we do now. from the under surface of the clouds there are continual emissions of lurid light; electric matter is in continual evolution from their component molecules; the gaseous elements of the air need to be slaked with moisture; for innumerable columns of water rush upwards into the air and fall back again in white foam. whither are we flying? my uncle lies full length across the raft. the heat increases. i refer to the thermometer; it indicates . . . (the figure is obliterated). _monday, august ._--will there be an end to it? is the atmospheric condition, having once reached this density, to become final? we are prostrated and worn out with fatigue. but hans is as usual. the raft bears on still to the south-east. we have made two hundred leagues since we left axel island. at noon the violence of the storm redoubles. we are obliged to secure as fast as possible every article that belongs to our cargo. each of us is lashed to some part of the raft. the waves rise above our heads. for three days we have never been able to make each other hear a word. our mouths open, our lips move, but not a word can be heard. we cannot even make ourselves heard by approaching our mouth close to the ear. my uncle has drawn nearer to me. he has uttered a few words. they seem to be 'we are lost'; but i am not sure. at last i write down the words: "let us lower the sail." he nods his consent. scarcely has he lifted his head again before a ball of fire has bounded over the waves and lighted on board our raft. mast and sail flew up in an instant together, and i saw them carried up to prodigious height, resembling in appearance a pterodactyle, one of those strong birds of the infant world. we lay there, our blood running cold with unspeakable terror. the fireball, half of it white, half azure blue, and the size of a ten-inch shell, moved slowly about the raft, but revolving on its own axis with astonishing velocity, as if whipped round by the force of the whirlwind. here it comes, there it glides, now it is up the ragged stump of the mast, thence it lightly leaps on the provision bag, descends with a light bound, and just skims the powder magazine. horrible! we shall be blown up; but no, the dazzling disk of mysterious light nimbly leaps aside; it approaches hans, who fixes his blue eye upon it steadily; it threatens the head of my uncle, who falls upon his knees with his head down to avoid it. and now my turn comes; pale and trembling under the blinding splendour and the melting heat, it drops at my feet, spinning silently round upon the deck; i try to move my foot away, but cannot. a suffocating smell of nitrogen fills the air, it enters the throat, it fills the lungs. we suffer stifling pains. why am i unable to move my foot? is it riveted to the planks? alas! the fall upon our fated raft of this electric globe has magnetised every iron article on board. the instruments, the tools, our guns, are clashing and clanking violently in their collisions with each other; the nails of my boots cling tenaciously to a plate of iron let into the timbers, and i cannot draw my foot away from the spot. at last by a violent effort i release myself at the instant when the ball in its gyrations was about to seize upon it, and carry me off my feet .... ah! what a flood of intense and dazzling light! the globe has burst, and we are deluged with tongues of fire! then all the light disappears. i could just see my uncle at full length on the raft, and hans still at his helm and spitting fire under the action of the electricity which has saturated him. but where are we going to? where? * * * * _tuesday, august ._--i recover from a long swoon. the storm continues to roar and rage; the lightnings dash hither and thither, like broods of fiery serpents filling all the air. are we still under the sea? yes, we are borne at incalculable speed. we have been carried under england, under the channel, under france, perhaps under the whole of europe. * * * * a fresh noise is heard! surely it is the sea breaking upon the rocks! but then . . . . chapter xxxvi. calm philosophic discussions here i end what i may call my log, happily saved from the wreck, and i resume my narrative as before. what happened when the raft was dashed upon the rocks is more than i can tell. i felt myself hurled into the waves; and if i escaped from death, and if my body was not torn over the sharp edges of the rocks, it was because the powerful arm of hans came to my rescue. the brave icelander carried me out of the reach of the waves, over a burning sand where i found myself by the side of my uncle. then he returned to the rocks, against which the furious waves were beating, to save what he could. i was unable to speak. i was shattered with fatigue and excitement; i wanted a whole hour to recover even a little. but a deluge of rain was still falling, though with that violence which generally denotes the near cessation of a storm. a few overhanging rocks afforded us some shelter from the storm. hans prepared some food, which i could not touch; and each of us, exhausted with three sleepless nights, fell into a broken and painful sleep. the next day the weather was splendid. the sky and the sea had sunk into sudden repose. every trace of the awful storm had disappeared. the exhilarating voice of the professor fell upon my ears as i awoke; he was ominously cheerful. "well, my boy," he cried, "have you slept well?" would not any one have thought that we were still in our cheerful little house on the königstrasse and that i was only just coming down to breakfast, and that i was to be married to gräuben that day? alas! if the tempest had but sent the raft a little more east, we should have passed under germany, under my beloved town of hamburg, under the very street where dwelt all that i loved most in the world. then only forty leagues would have separated us! but they were forty leagues perpendicular of solid granite wall, and in reality we were a thousand leagues asunder! all these painful reflections rapidly crossed my mind before i could answer my uncle's question. "well, now," he repeated, "won't you tell me how you have slept?" "oh, very well," i said. "i am only a little knocked up, but i shall soon be better." "oh," says my uncle, "that's nothing to signify. you are only a little bit tired." "but you, uncle, you seem in very good spirits this morning." "delighted, my boy, delighted. we have got there." "to our journey's end?" "no; but we have got to the end of that endless sea. now we shall go by land, and really begin to go down! down! down!" "but, my dear uncle, do let me ask you one question." "of course, axel." "how about returning?" "returning? why, you are talking about the return before the arrival." "no, i only want to know how that is to be managed." "in the simplest way possible. when we have reached the centre of the globe, either we shall find some new way to get back, or we shall come back like decent folks the way we came. i feel pleased at the thought that it is sure not to be shut against us." "but then we shall have to refit the raft." "of course." "then, as to provisions, have we enough to last?" "yes; to be sure we have. hans is a clever fellow, and i am sure he must have saved a large part of our cargo. but still let us go and make sure." we left this grotto which lay open to every wind. at the same time i cherished a trembling hope which was a fear as well. it seemed to me impossible that the terrible wreck of the raft should not have destroyed everything on board. on my arrival on the shore i found hans surrounded by an assemblage of articles all arranged in good order. my uncle shook hands with him with a lively gratitude. this man, with almost superhuman devotion, had been at work all the while that we were asleep, and had saved the most precious of the articles at the risk of his life. not that we had suffered no losses. for instance, our firearms; but we might do without them. our stock of powder had remained uninjured after having risked blowing up during the storm. "well," cried the professor, "as we have no guns we cannot hunt, that's all." "yes, but how about the instruments?" "here is the aneroid, the most useful of all, and for which i would have given all the others. by means of it i can calculate the depth and know when we have reached the centre; without it we might very likely go beyond, and come out at the antipodes!" such high spirits as these were rather too strong. "but where is the compass? i asked. "here it is, upon this rock, in perfect condition, as well as the thermometers and the chronometer. the hunter is a splendid fellow." there was no denying it. we had all our instruments. as for tools and appliances, there they all lay on the ground--ladders, ropes, picks, spades, etc. still there was the question of provisions to be settled, and i asked--"how are we off for provisions?" the boxes containing these were in a line upon the shore, in a perfect state of preservation; for the most part the sea had spared them, and what with biscuits, salt meat, spirits, and salt fish, we might reckon on four months' supply. "four months!" cried the professor. "we have time to go and to return; and with what is left i will give a grand dinner to my friends at the johannæum." i ought by this time to have been quite accustomed to my uncle's ways; yet there was always something fresh about him to astonish me. "now," said he, "we will replenish our supply of water with the rain which the storm has left in all these granite basins; therefore we shall have no reason to fear anything from thirst. as for the raft, i will recommend hans to do his best to repair it, although i don't expect it will be of any further use to us." "how so?" i cried. "an idea of my own, my lad. i don't think we shall come out by the way that we went in." i stared at the professor with a good deal of mistrust. i asked, was he not touched in the brain? and yet there was method in his madness. "and now let us go to breakfast," said he. i followed him to a headland, after he had given his instructions to the hunter. there preserved meat, biscuit, and tea made us an excellent meal, one of the best i ever remember. hunger, the fresh air, the calm quiet weather, after the commotions we had gone through, all contributed to give me a good appetite. whilst breakfasting i took the opportunity to put to my uncle the question where we were now. "that seems to me," i said, "rather difficult to make out." "yes, it is difficult," he said, "to calculate exactly; perhaps even impossible, since during these three stormy days i have been unable to keep any account of the rate or direction of the raft; but still we may get an approximation." "the last observation," i remarked, "was made on the island, when the geyser was--" "you mean axel island. don't decline the honour of having given your name to the first island ever discovered in the central parts of the globe." "well," said i, "let it be axel island. then we had cleared two hundred and seventy leagues of sea, and we were six hundred leagues from iceland." "very well," answered my uncle; "let us start from that point and count four days' storm, during which our rate cannot have been less than eighty leagues in the twenty-four hours." "that is right; and this would make three hundred leagues more." "yes, and the liedenbrock sea would be six hundred leagues from shore to shore. surely, axel, it may vie in size with the mediterranean itself." "especially," i replied, "if it happens that we have only crossed it in its narrowest part. and it is a curious circumstance," i added, "that if my computations are right, and we are nine hundred leagues from rejkiavik, we have now the mediterranean above our head." "that is a good long way, my friend. but whether we are under turkey or the atlantic depends very much upon the question in what direction we have been moving. perhaps we have deviated." "no, i think not. our course has been the same all along, and i believe this shore is south-east of port gräuben." "well," replied my uncle, "we may easily ascertain this by consulting the compass. let us go and see what it says." the professor moved towards the rock upon which hans had laid down the instruments. he was gay and full of spirits; he rubbed his hands, he studied his attitudes. i followed him, curious to know if i was right in my estimate. as soon as we had arrived at the rock my uncle took the compass, laid it horizontally, and questioned the needle, which, after a few oscillations, presently assumed a fixed position. my uncle looked, and looked, and looked again. he rubbed his eyes, and then turned to me thunderstruck with some unexpected discovery. "what is the matter?" i asked. he motioned to me to look. an exclamation of astonishment burst from me. the north pole of the needle was turned to what we supposed to be the south. it pointed to the shore instead of to the open sea! i shook the box, examined it again, it was in perfect condition. in whatever position i placed the box the needle pertinaciously returned to this unexpected quarter. therefore there seemed no reason to doubt that during the storm there had been a sudden change of wind unperceived by us, which had brought our raft back to the shore which we thought we had left so long a distance behind us. chapter xxxvii. the liedenbrock museum of geology how shall i describe the strange series of passions which in succession shook the breast of professor liedenbrock? first stupefaction, then incredulity, lastly a downright burst of rage. never had i seen the man so put out of countenance and so disturbed. the fatigues of our passage across, the dangers met, had all to be begun over again. we had gone backwards instead of forwards! but my uncle rapidly recovered himself. "aha! will fate play tricks upon me? will the elements lay plots against me? shall fire, air, and water make a combined attack against me? well, they shall know what a determined man can do. i will not yield. i will not stir a single foot backwards, and it will be seen whether man or nature is to have the upper hand!" erect upon the rock, angry and threatening, otto liedenbrock was a rather grotesque fierce parody upon the fierce achilles defying the lightning. but i thought it my duty to interpose and attempt to lay some restraint upon this unmeasured fanaticism. "just listen to me," i said firmly. "ambition must have a limit somewhere; we cannot perform impossibilities; we are not at all fit for another sea voyage; who would dream of undertaking a voyage of five hundred leagues upon a heap of rotten planks, with a blanket in rags for a sail, a stick for a mast, and fierce winds in our teeth? we cannot steer; we shall be buffeted by the tempests, and we should be fools and madmen to attempt to cross a second time." i was able to develop this series of unanswerable reasons for ten minutes without interruption; not that the professor was paying any respectful attention to his nephew's arguments, but because he was deaf to all my eloquence. "to the raft!" he shouted. such was his only reply. it was no use for me to entreat, supplicate, get angry, or do anything else in the way of opposition; it would only have been opposing a will harder than the granite rock. hans was finishing the repairs of the raft. one would have thought that this strange being was guessing at my uncle's intentions. with a few more pieces of surturbrand he had refitted our vessel. a sail already hung from the new mast, and the wind was playing in its waving folds. the professor said a few words to the guide, and immediately he put everything on board and arranged every necessary for our departure. the air was clear--and the north-west wind blew steadily. what could i do? could i stand against the two? it was impossible? if hans had but taken my side! but no, it was not to be. the icelander seemed to have renounced all will of his own and made a vow to forget and deny himself. i could get nothing out of a servant so feudalised, as it were, to his master. my only course was to proceed. i was therefore going with as much resignation as i could find to resume my accustomed place on the raft, when my uncle laid his hand upon my shoulder. "we shall not sail until to-morrow," he said. i made a movement intended to express resignation. "i must neglect nothing," he said; "and since my fate has driven me on this part of the coast, i will not leave it until i have examined it." to understand what followed, it must be borne in mind that, through circumstances hereafter to be explained, we were not really where the professor supposed we were. in fact we were not upon the north shore of the sea. "now let us start upon fresh discoveries," i said. and leaving hans to his work we started off together. the space between the water and the foot of the cliffs was considerable. it took half an hour to bring us to the wall of rock. we trampled under our feet numberless shells of all the forms and sizes which existed in the earliest ages of the world. i also saw immense carapaces more than fifteen feet in diameter. they had been the coverings of those gigantic glyptodons or armadilloes of the pleiocene period, of which the modern tortoise is but a miniature representative. [ ] the soil was besides this scattered with stony fragments, boulders rounded by water action, and ridged up in successive lines. i was therefore led to the conclusion that at one time the sea must have covered the ground on which we were treading. on the loose and scattered rocks, now out of the reach of the highest tides, the waves had left manifest traces of their power to wear their way in the hardest stone. this might up to a certain point explain the existence of an ocean forty leagues beneath the surface of the globe. but in my opinion this liquid mass would be lost by degrees farther and farther within the interior of the earth, and it certainly had its origin in the waters of the ocean overhead, which had made their way hither through some fissure. yet it must be believed that that fissure is now closed, and that all this cavern or immense reservoir was filled in a very short time. perhaps even this water, subjected to the fierce action of central heat, had partly been resolved into vapour. this would explain the existence of those clouds suspended over our heads and the development of that electricity which raised such tempests within the bowels of the earth. this theory of the phenomena we had witnessed seemed satisfactory to me; for however great and stupendous the phenomena of nature, fixed physical laws will or may always explain them. we were therefore walking upon sedimentary soil, the deposits of the waters of former ages. the professor was carefully examining every little fissure in the rocks. wherever he saw a hole he always wanted to know the depth of it. to him this was important. we had traversed the shores of the liedenbrock sea for a mile when we observed a sudden change in the appearance of the soil. it seemed upset, contorted, and convulsed by a violent upheaval of the lower strata. in many places depressions or elevations gave witness to some tremendous power effecting the dislocation of strata. [ ] the glyptodon and armadillo are mammalian; the tortoise is a chelonian, a reptile, distinct classes of the animal kingdom; therefore the latter cannot be a representative of the former. (trans.) we moved with difficulty across these granite fissures and chasms mingled with silex, crystals of quartz, and alluvial deposits, when a field, nay, more than a field, a vast plain, of bleached bones lay spread before us. it seemed like an immense cemetery, where the remains of twenty ages mingled their dust together. huge mounds of bony fragments rose stage after stage in the distance. they undulated away to the limits of the horizon, and melted in the distance in a faint haze. there within three square miles were accumulated the materials for a complete history of the animal life of ages, a history scarcely outlined in the too recent strata of the inhabited world. but an impatient curiosity impelled our steps; crackling and rattling, our feet were trampling on the remains of prehistoric animals and interesting fossils, the possession of which is a matter of rivalry and contention between the museums of great cities. a thousand cuviers could never have reconstructed the organic remains deposited in this magnificent and unparalleled collection. i stood amazed. my uncle had uplifted his long arms to the vault which was our sky; his mouth gaping wide, his eyes flashing behind his shining spectacles, his head balancing with an up-and-down motion, his whole attitude denoted unlimited astonishment. here he stood facing an immense collection of scattered leptotheria, mericotheria, lophiodia, anoplotheria, megatheria, mastodons, protopithecæ, pterodactyles, and all sorts of extinct monsters here assembled together for his special satisfaction. fancy an enthusiastic bibliomaniac suddenly brought into the midst of the famous alexandrian library burnt by omar and restored by a miracle from its ashes! just such a crazed enthusiast was my uncle, professor liedenbrock. but more was to come, when, with a rush through clouds of bone dust, he laid his hand upon a bare skull, and cried with a voice trembling with excitement: "axel! axel! a human head!" "a human skull?" i cried, no less astonished. "yes, nephew. aha! m. milne-edwards! ah! m. de quatrefages, how i wish you were standing here at the side of otto liedenbrock!" chapter xxxviii. the professor in his chair again to understand this apostrophe of my uncle's, made to absent french savants, it will be necessary to allude to an event of high importance in a palæontological point of view, which had occurred a little while before our departure. on the th of march, , some excavators working under the direction of m. boucher de perthes, in the stone quarries of moulin quignon, near abbeville, in the department of somme, found a human jawbone fourteen feet beneath the surface. it was the first fossil of this nature that had ever been brought to light. not far distant were found stone hatchets and flint arrow-heads stained and encased by lapse of time with a uniform coat of rust. the noise of this discovery was very great, not in france alone, but in england and in germany. several savants of the french institute, and amongst them mm. milne-edwards and de quatrefages, saw at once the importance of this discovery, proved to demonstration the genuineness of the bone in question, and became the most ardent defendants in what the english called this 'trial of a jawbone.' to the geologists of the united kingdom, who believed in the certainty of the fact--messrs. falconer, busk, carpenter, and others--scientific germans were soon joined, and amongst them the forwardest, the most fiery, and the most enthusiastic, was my uncle liedenbrock. therefore the genuineness of a fossil human relic of the quaternary period seemed to be incontestably proved and admitted. it is true that this theory met with a most obstinate opponent in m. elie de beaumont. this high authority maintained that the soil of moulin quignon was not diluvial at all, but was of much more recent formation; and, agreeing in that with cuvier, he refused to admit that the human species could be contemporary with the animals of the quaternary period. my uncle liedenbrock, along with the great body of the geologists, had maintained his ground, disputed, and argued, until m. elie de beaumont stood almost alone in his opinion. we knew all these details, but we were not aware that since our departure the question had advanced to farther stages. other similar maxillaries, though belonging to individuals of various types and different nations, were found in the loose grey soil of certain grottoes in france, switzerland, and belgium, as well as weapons, tools, earthen utensils, bones of children and adults. the existence therefore of man in the quaternary period seemed to become daily more certain. nor was this all. fresh discoveries of remains in the pleiocene formation had emboldened other geologists to refer back the human species to a higher antiquity still. it is true that these remains were not human bones, but objects bearing the traces of his handiwork, such as fossil leg-bones of animals, sculptured and carved evidently by the hand of man. thus, at one bound, the record of the existence of man receded far back into the history of the ages past; he was a predecessor of the mastodon; he was a contemporary of the southern elephant; he lived a hundred thousand years ago, when, according to geologists, the pleiocene formation was in progress. such then was the state of palæontological science, and what we knew of it was sufficient to explain our behaviour in the presence of this stupendous golgotha. any one may now understand the frenzied excitement of my uncle, when, twenty yards farther on, he found himself face to face with a primitive man! it was a perfectly recognisable human body. had some particular soil, like that of the cemetery st. michel, at bordeaux, preserved it thus for so many ages? it might be so. but this dried corpse, with its parchment-like skin drawn tightly over the bony frame, the limbs still preserving their shape, sound teeth, abundant hair, and finger and toe nails of frightful length, this desiccated mummy startled us by appearing just as it had lived countless ages ago. i stood mute before this apparition of remote antiquity. my uncle, usually so garrulous, was struck dumb likewise. we raised the body. we stood it up against a rock. it seemed to stare at us out of its empty orbits. we sounded with our knuckles his hollow frame. after some moments' silence the professor was himself again. otto liedenbrock, yielding to his nature, forgot all the circumstances of our eventful journey, forgot where we were standing, forgot the vaulted cavern which contained us. no doubt he was in mind back again in his johannæum, holding forth to his pupils, for he assumed his learned air; and addressing himself to an imaginary audience, he proceeded thus: "gentlemen, i have the honour to introduce to you a man of the quaternary or post-tertiary system. eminent geologists have denied his existence, others no less eminent have affirmed it. the st. thomases of palæontology, if they were here, might now touch him with their fingers, and would be obliged to acknowledge their error. i am quite aware that science has to be on its guard with discoveries of this kind. i know what capital enterprising individuals like barnum have made out of fossil men. i have heard the tale of the kneepan of ajax, the pretended body of orestes claimed to have been found by the spartans, and of the body of asterius, ten cubits long, of which pausanias speaks. i have read the reports of the skeleton of trapani, found in the fourteenth century, and which was at the time identified as that of polyphemus; and the history of the giant unearthed in the sixteenth century near palermo. you know as well as i do, gentlemen, the analysis made at lucerne in of those huge bones which the celebrated dr. felix plater affirmed to be those of a giant nineteen feet high. i have gone through the treatises of cassanion, and all those memoirs, pamphlets, answers, and rejoinders published respecting the skeleton of teutobochus, the invader of gaul, dug out of a sandpit in the dauphiné, in . in the eighteenth century i would have stood up for scheuchzer's pre-adamite man against peter campet. i have perused a writing, entitled gigan--" here my uncle's unfortunate infirmity met him--that of being unable in public to pronounce hard words. "the pamphlet entitled gigan--" he could get no further. "giganteo--" it was not to be done. the unlucky word would not come out. at the johannæum there would have been a laugh. "gigantosteologie," at last the professor burst out, between two words which i shall not record here. then rushing on with renewed vigour, and with great animation: "yes, gentlemen, i know all these things, and more. i know that cuvier and blumenbach have recognised in these bones nothing more remarkable than the bones of the mammoth and other mammals of the post-tertiary period. but in the presence of this specimen to doubt would be to insult science. there stands the body! you may see it, touch it. it is not a mere skeleton; it is an entire body, preserved for a purely anthropological end and purpose." i was good enough not to contradict this startling assertion. "if i could only wash it in a solution of sulphuric acid," pursued my uncle, "i should be able to clear it from all the earthy particles and the shells which are incrusted about it. but i do not possess that valuable solvent. yet, such as it is, the body shall tell us its own wonderful story." here the professor laid hold of the fossil skeleton, and handled it with the skill of a dexterous showman. "you see," he said, "that it is not six feet long, and that we are still separated by a long interval from the pretended race of giants. as for the family to which it belongs, it is evidently caucasian. it is the white race, our own. the skull of this fossil is a regular oval, or rather ovoid. it exhibits no prominent cheekbones, no projecting jaws. it presents no appearance of that prognathism which diminishes the facial angle. [ ] measure that angle. it is nearly ninety degrees. but i will go further in my deductions, and i will affirm that this specimen of the human family is of the japhetic race, which has since spread from the indies to the atlantic. don't smile, gentlemen." nobody was smiling; but the learned professor was frequently disturbed by the broad smiles provoked by his learned eccentricities. "yes," he pursued with animation, "this is a fossil man, the contemporary of the mastodons whose remains fill this amphitheatre. but if you ask me how he came there, how those strata on which he lay slipped down into this enormous hollow in the globe, i confess i cannot answer that question. no doubt in the post-tertiary period considerable commotions were still disturbing the crust of the earth. the long-continued cooling of the globe produced chasms, fissures, clefts, and faults, into which, very probably, portions of the upper earth may have fallen. i make no rash assertions; but there is the man surrounded by his own works, by hatchets, by flint arrow-heads, which are the characteristics of the stone age. and unless he came here, like myself, as a tourist on a visit and as a pioneer of science, i can entertain no doubt of the authenticity of his remote origin." [ ] the facial angle is formed by two lines, one touching the brow and the front teeth, the other from the orifice of the ear to the lower line of the nostrils. the greater this angle, the higher intelligence denoted by the formation of the skull. prognathism is that projection of the jaw-bones which sharpens or lessons this angle, and which is illustrated in the negro countenance and in the lowest savages. the professor ceased to speak, and the audience broke out into loud and unanimous applause. for of course my uncle was right, and wiser men than his nephew would have had some trouble to refute his statements. another remarkable thing. this fossil body was not the only one in this immense catacomb. we came upon other bodies at every step amongst this mortal dust, and my uncle might select the most curious of these specimens to demolish the incredulity of sceptics. in fact it was a wonderful spectacle, that of these generations of men and animals commingled in a common cemetery. then one very serious question arose presently which we scarcely dared to suggest. had all those creatures slided through a great fissure in the crust of the earth, down to the shores of the liedenbrock sea, when they were dead and turning to dust, or had they lived and grown and died here in this subterranean world under a false sky, just like inhabitants of the upper earth? until the present time we had seen alive only marine monsters and fishes. might not some living man, some native of the abyss, be yet a wanderer below on this desert strand? chapter xxxix. forest scenery illuminated by electricity for another half hour we trod upon a pavement of bones. we pushed on, impelled by our burning curiosity. what other marvels did this cavern contain? what new treasures lay here for science to unfold? i was prepared for any surprise, my imagination was ready for any astonishment however astounding. we had long lost sight of the sea shore behind the hills of bones. the rash professor, careless of losing his way, hurried me forward. we advanced in silence, bathed in luminous electric fluid. by some phenomenon which i am unable to explain, it lighted up all sides of every object equally. such was its diffusiveness, there being no central point from which the light emanated, that shadows no longer existed. you might have thought yourself under the rays of a vertical sun in a tropical region at noonday and the height of summer. no vapour was visible. the rocks, the distant mountains, a few isolated clumps of forest trees in the distance, presented a weird and wonderful aspect under these totally new conditions of a universal diffusion of light. we were like hoffmann's shadowless man. after walking a mile we reached the outskirts of a vast forest, but not one of those forests of fungi which bordered port gräuben. here was the vegetation of the tertiary period in its fullest blaze of magnificence. tall palms, belonging to species no longer living, splendid palmacites, firs, yews, cypress trees, thujas, representatives of the conifers, were linked together by a tangled network of long climbing plants. a soft carpet of moss and hepaticas luxuriously clothed the soil. a few sparkling streams ran almost in silence under what would have been the shade of the trees, but that there was no shadow. on their banks grew tree-ferns similar to those we grow in hothouses. but a remarkable feature was the total absence of colour in all those trees, shrubs, and plants, growing without the life-giving heat and light of the sun. everything seemed mixed-up and confounded in one uniform silver grey or light brown tint like that of fading and faded leaves. not a green leaf anywhere, and the flowers--which were abundant enough in the tertiary period, which first gave birth to flowers--looked like brown-paper flowers, without colour or scent. my uncle liedenbrock ventured to penetrate under this colossal grove. i followed him, not without fear. since nature had here provided vegetable nourishment, why should not the terrible mammals be there too? i perceived in the broad clearings left by fallen trees, decayed with age, leguminose plants, acerineæ, rubiceæ and many other eatable shrubs, dear to ruminant animals at every period. then i observed, mingled together in confusion, trees of countries far apart on the surface of the globe. the oak and the palm were growing side by side, the australian eucalyptus leaned against the norwegian pine, the birch-tree of the north mingled its foliage with new zealand kauris. it was enough to distract the most ingenious classifier of terrestrial botany. suddenly i halted. i drew back my uncle. the diffused light revealed the smallest object in the dense and distant thickets. i had thought i saw--no! i did see, with my own eyes, vast colossal forms moving amongst the trees. they were gigantic animals; it was a herd of mastodons--not fossil remains, but living and resembling those the bones of which were found in the marshes of ohio in . i saw those huge elephants whose long, flexible trunks were grouting and turning up the soil under the trees like a legion of serpents. i could hear the crashing noise of their long ivory tusks boring into the old decaying trunks. the boughs cracked, and the leaves torn away by cartloads went down the cavernous throats of the vast brutes. so, then, the dream in which i had had a vision of the prehistoric world, of the tertiary and post-tertiary periods, was now realised. and there we were alone, in the bowels of the earth, at the mercy of its wild inhabitants! my uncle was gazing with intense and eager interest. "come on!" said he, seizing my arm. "forward! forward!" "no, i will not!" i cried. "we have no firearms. what could we do in the midst of a herd of these four-footed giants? come away, uncle--come! no human being may with safety dare the anger of these monstrous beasts." "no human creature?" replied my uncle in a lower voice. "you are wrong, axel. look, look down there! i fancy i see a living creature similar to ourselves: it is a man!" i looked, shaking my head incredulously. but though at first i was unbelieving i had to yield to the evidence of my senses. in fact, at a distance of a quarter of a mile, leaning against the trunk of a gigantic kauri, stood a human being, the proteus of those subterranean regions, a new son of neptune, watching this countless herd of mastodons. immanis pecoris custos, immanior ipse. [ ] [ ] "the shepherd of gigantic herds, and huger still himself." yes, truly, huger still himself. it was no longer a fossil being like him whose dried remains we had easily lifted up in the field of bones; it was a giant, able to control those monsters. in stature he was at least twelve feet high. his head, huge and unshapely as a buffalo's, was half hidden in the thick and tangled growth of his unkempt hair. it most resembled the mane of the primitive elephant. in his hand he wielded with ease an enormous bough, a staff worthy of this shepherd of the geologic period. we stood petrified and speechless with amazement. but he might see us! we must fly! "come, do come!" i said to my uncle, who for once allowed himself to be persuaded. in another quarter of an hour our nimble heels had carried us beyond the reach of this horrible monster. and yet, now that i can reflect quietly, now that my spirit has grown calm again, now that months have slipped by since this strange and supernatural meeting, what am i to think? what am i to believe? i must conclude that it was impossible that our senses had been deceived, that our eyes did not see what we supposed they saw. no human being lives in this subterranean world; no generation of men dwells in those inferior caverns of the globe, unknown to and unconnected with the inhabitants of its surface. it is absurd to believe it! i had rather admit that it may have been some animal whose structure resembled the human, some ape or baboon of the early geological ages, some protopitheca, or some mesopitheca, some early or middle ape like that discovered by mr. lartet in the bone cave of sansau. but this creature surpassed in stature all the measurements known in modern palæontology. but that a man, a living man, and therefore whole generations doubtless besides, should be buried there in the bowels of the earth, is impossible. however, we had left behind us the luminous forest, dumb with astonishment, overwhelmed and struck down with a terror which amounted to stupefaction. we kept running on for fear the horrible monster might be on our track. it was a flight, a fall, like that fearful pulling and dragging which is peculiar to nightmare. instinctively we got back to the liedenbrock sea, and i cannot say into what vagaries my mind would not have carried me but for a circumstance which brought me back to practical matters. although i was certain that we were now treading upon a soil not hitherto touched by our feet, i often perceived groups of rocks which reminded me of those about port gräuben. besides, this seemed to confirm the indications of the needle, and to show that we had against our will returned to the north of the liedenbrock sea. occasionally we felt quite convinced. brooks and waterfalls were tumbling everywhere from the projections in the rocks. i thought i recognised the bed of surturbrand, our faithful hansbach, and the grotto in which i had recovered life and consciousness. then a few paces farther on, the arrangement of the cliffs, the appearance of an unrecognised stream, or the strange outline of a rock, came to throw me again into doubt. i communicated my doubts to my uncle. like myself, he hesitated; he could recognise nothing again amidst this monotonous scene. "evidently," said i, "we have not landed again at our original starting point, but the storm has carried us a little higher, and if we follow the shore we shall find port gräuben." "if that is the case it will be useless to continue our exploration, and we had better return to our raft. but, axel, are you not mistaken?" "it is difficult to speak decidedly, uncle, for all these rocks are so very much alike. yet i think i recognise the promontory at the foot of which hans constructed our launch. we must be very near the little port, if indeed this is not it," i added, examining a creek which i thought i recognised. "no, axel, we should at least find our own traces and i see nothing--" "but i do see," i cried, darting upon an object lying on the sand. and i showed my uncle a rusty dagger which i had just picked up. "come," said he, "had you this weapon with you?" "i! no, certainly! but you, perhaps--" "not that i am aware," said the professor. "i have never had this object in my possession." "well, this is strange!" "no, axel, it is very simple. the icelanders often wear arms of this kind. this must have belonged to hans, and he has lost it." i shook my head. hans had never had an object like this in his possession. "did it not belong to some pre-adamite warrior?" i cried, "to some living man, contemporary with the huge cattle-driver? but no. this is not a relic of the stone age. it is not even of the iron age. this blade is steel--" my uncle stopped me abruptly on my way to a dissertation which would have taken me a long way, and said coolly: "be calm, axel, and reasonable. this dagger belongs to the sixteenth century; it is a poniard, such as gentlemen carried in their belts to give the coup _de grace._ its origin is spanish. it was never either yours, or mine, or the hunter's, nor did it belong to any of those human beings who may or may not inhabit this inner world. see, it was never jagged like this by cutting men's throats; its blade is coated with a rust neither a day, nor a year, nor a hundred years old." the professor was getting excited according to his wont, and was allowing his imagination to run away with him. "axel, we are on the way towards the grand discovery. this blade has been left on the strand for from one to three hundred years, and has blunted its edge upon the rocks that fringe this subterranean sea!" "but it has not come alone. it has not twisted itself out of shape; some one has been here before us! "yes--a man has." "and who was that man?" "a man who has engraved his name somewhere with that dagger. that man wanted once more to mark the way to the centre of the earth. let us look about: look about!" and, wonderfully interested, we peered all along the high wall, peeping into every fissure which might open out into a gallery. and so we arrived at a place where the shore was much narrowed. here the sea came to lap the foot of the steep cliff, leaving a passage no wider than a couple of yards. between two boldly projecting rocks appeared the mouth of a dark tunnel. there, upon a granite slab, appeared two mysterious graven letters, half eaten away by time. they were the initials of the bold and daring traveller: [runic initials appear here] "a. s.," shouted my uncle. "arne saknussemm! arne saknussemm everywhere!" chapter xl. preparations for blasting a passage to the centre of the earth since the start upon this marvellous pilgrimage i had been through so many astonishments that i might well be excused for thinking myself well hardened against any further surprise. yet at the sight of these two letters, engraved on this spot three hundred years ago, i stood aghast in dumb amazement. not only were the initials of the learned alchemist visible upon the living rock, but there lay the iron point with which the letters had been engraved. i could no longer doubt of the existence of that wonderful traveller and of the fact of his unparalleled journey, without the most glaring incredulity. whilst these reflections were occupying me, professor liedenbrock had launched into a somewhat rhapsodical eulogium, of which arne saknussemm was, of course, the hero. "thou marvellous genius!" he cried, "thou hast not forgotten one indication which might serve to lay open to mortals the road through the terrestrial crust; and thy fellow-creatures may even now, after the lapse of three centuries, again trace thy footsteps through these deep and darksome ways. you reserved the contemplation of these wonders for other eyes besides your own. your name, graven from stage to stage, leads the bold follower of your footsteps to the very centre of our planet's core, and there again we shall find your own name written with your own hand. i too will inscribe my name upon this dark granite page. but for ever henceforth let this cape that advances into the sea discovered by yourself be known by your own illustrious name--cape saknussemm." such were the glowing words of panegyric which fell upon my attentive ear, and i could not resist the sentiment of enthusiasm with which i too was infected. the fire of zeal kindled afresh in me. i forgot everything. i dismissed from my mind the past perils of the journey, the future danger of our return. that which another had done i supposed we might also do, and nothing that was not superhuman appeared impossible to me. "forward! forward!" i cried. i was already darting down the gloomy tunnel when the professor stopped me; he, the man of impulse, counselled patience and coolness. "let us first return to hans," he said, "and bring the raft to this spot." i obeyed, not without dissatisfaction, and passed out rapidly among the rocks on the shore. i said: "uncle, do you know it seems to me that circumstances have wonderfully befriended us hitherto?" "you think so, axel?" "no doubt; even the tempest has put us on the right way. blessings on that storm! it has brought us back to this coast from which fine weather would have carried us far away. suppose we had touched with our prow (the prow of a rudder!) the southern shore of the liedenbrock sea, what would have become of us? we should never have seen the name of saknussemm, and we should at this moment be imprisoned on a rockbound, impassable coast." "yes, axel, it is providential that whilst supposing we were steering south we should have just got back north at cape saknussemm. i must say that this is astonishing, and that i feel i have no way to explain it." "what does that signify, uncle? our business is not to explain facts, but to use them!" "certainly; but--" "well, uncle, we are going to resume the northern route, and to pass under the north countries of europe--under sweden, russia, siberia: who knows where?--instead of burrowing under the deserts of africa, or perhaps the waves of the atlantic; and that is all i want to know." "yes, axel, you are right. it is all for the best, since we have left that weary, horizontal sea, which led us nowhere. now we shall go down, down, down! do you know that it is now only , leagues to the centre of the globe?" "is that all?" i cried. "why, that's nothing. let us start: march!" all this crazy talk was going on still when we met the hunter. everything was made ready for our instant departure. every bit of cordage was put on board. we took our places, and with our sail set, hans steered us along the coast to cape saknussemm. the wind was unfavourable to a species of launch not calculated for shallow water. in many places we were obliged to push ourselves along with iron-pointed sticks. often the sunken rocks just beneath the surface obliged us to deviate from our straight course. at last, after three hours' sailing, about six in the evening we reached a place suitable for our landing. i jumped ashore, followed by my uncle and the icelander. this short passage had not served to cool my ardour. on the contrary, i even proposed to burn 'our ship,' to prevent the possibility of return; but my uncle would not consent to that. i thought him singularly lukewarm. "at least," i said, "don't let us lose a minute." "yes, yes, lad," he replied; "but first let us examine this new gallery, to see if we shall require our ladders." my uncle put his ruhmkorff's apparatus in action; the raft moored to the shore was left alone; the mouth of the tunnel was not twenty yards from us; and our party, with myself at the head, made for it without a moment's delay. the aperture, which was almost round, was about five feet in diameter; the dark passage was cut out in the live rock and lined with a coat of the eruptive matter which formerly issued from it; the interior was level with the ground outside, so that we were able to enter without difficulty. we were following a horizontal plane, when, only six paces in, our progress was interrupted by an enormous block just across our way. "accursed rock!" i cried in a passion, finding myself suddenly confronted by an impassable obstacle. right and left we searched in vain for a way, up and down, side to side; there was no getting any farther. i felt fearfully disappointed, and i would not admit that the obstacle was final. i stopped, i looked underneath the block: no opening. above: granite still. hans passed his lamp over every portion of the barrier in vain. we must give up all hope of passing it. i sat down in despair. my uncle strode from side to side in the narrow passage. "but how was it with saknussemm?" i cried. "yes," said my uncle, "was he stopped by this stone barrier?" "no, no," i replied with animation. "this fragment of rock has been shaken down by some shock or convulsion, or by one of those magnetic storms which agitate these regions, and has blocked up the passage which lay open to him. many years have elapsed since the return of saknussemm to the surface and the fall of this huge fragment. is it not evident that this gallery was once the way open to the course of the lava, and that at that time there must have been a free passage? see here are recent fissures grooving and channelling the granite roof. this roof itself is formed of fragments of rock carried down, of enormous stones, as if by some giant's hand; but at one time the expulsive force was greater than usual, and this block, like the falling keystone of a ruined arch, has slipped down to the ground and blocked up the way. it is only an accidental obstruction, not met by saknussemm, and if we don't destroy it we shall be unworthy to reach the centre of the earth." such was my sentence! the soul of the professor had passed into me. the genius of discovery possessed me wholly. i forgot the past, i scorned the future. i gave not a thought to the things of the surface of this globe into which i had dived; its cities and its sunny plains, hamburg and the königstrasse, even poor gräuben, who must have given us up for lost, all were for the time dismissed from the pages of my memory. "well," cried my uncle, "let us make a way with our pickaxes." "too hard for the pickaxe." "well, then, the spade." "that would take us too long." "what, then?" "why gunpowder, to be sure! let us mine the obstacle and blow it up." "oh, yes, it is only a bit of rock to blast!" "hans, to work!" cried my uncle. the icelander returned to the raft and soon came back with an iron bar which he made use of to bore a hole for the charge. this was no easy work. a hole was to be made large enough to hold fifty pounds of guncotton, whose expansive force is four times that of gunpowder. i was terribly excited. whilst hans was at work i was actively helping my uncle to prepare a slow match of wetted powder encased in linen. "this will do it," i said. "it will," replied my uncle. by midnight our mining preparations were over; the charge was rammed into the hole, and the slow match uncoiled along the gallery showed its end outside the opening. a spark would now develop the whole of our preparations into activity. "to-morrow," said the professor. i had to be resigned and to wait six long hours. chapter xli. the great explosion and the rush down below the next day, thursday, august , is a well-remembered date in our subterranean journey. it never returns to my memory without sending through me a shudder of horror and a palpitation of the heart. from that hour we had no further occasion for the exercise of reason, or judgment, or skill, or contrivance. we were henceforth to be hurled along, the playthings of the fierce elements of the deep. at six we were afoot. the moment drew near to clear a way by blasting through the opposing mass of granite. i begged for the honour of lighting the fuse. this duty done, i was to join my companions on the raft, which had not yet been unloaded; we should then push off as far as we could and avoid the dangers arising from the explosion, the effects of which were not likely to be confined to the rock itself. the fuse was calculated to burn ten minutes before setting fire to the mine. i therefore had sufficient time to get away to the raft. i prepared to fulfil my task with some anxiety. after a hasty meal, my uncle and the hunter embarked whilst i remained on shore. i was supplied with a lighted lantern to set fire to the fuse. "now go," said my uncle, "and return immediately to us." "don't be uneasy," i replied. "i will not play by the way." i immediately proceeded to the mouth of the tunnel. i opened my lantern. i laid hold of the end of the match. the professor stood, chronometer in hand. "ready?" he cried. "ay." "fire!" i instantly plunged the end of the fuse into the lantern. it spluttered and flamed, and i ran at the top of my speed to the raft. "come on board quickly, and let us push off." hans, with a vigorous thrust, sent us from the shore. the raft shot twenty fathoms out to sea. it was a moment of intense excitement. the professor was watching the hand of the chronometer. "five minutes more!" he said. "four! three!" my pulse beat half-seconds. "two! one! down, granite rocks; down with you." what took place at that moment? i believe i did not hear the dull roar of the explosion. but the rocks suddenly assumed a new arrangement: they rent asunder like a curtain. i saw a bottomless pit open on the shore. the sea, lashed into sudden fury, rose up in an enormous billow, on the ridge of which the unhappy raft was uplifted bodily in the air with all its crew and cargo. we all three fell down flat. in less than a second we were in deep, unfathomable darkness. then i felt as if not only myself but the raft also had no support beneath. i thought it was sinking; but it was not so. i wanted to speak to my uncle, but the roaring of the waves prevented him from hearing even the sound of my voice. in spite of darkness, noise, astonishment, and terror, i then understood what had taken place. on the other side of the blown-up rock was an abyss. the explosion had caused a kind of earthquake in this fissured and abysmal region; a great gulf had opened; and the sea, now changed into a torrent, was hurrying us along into it. i gave myself up for lost. an hour passed away--two hours, perhaps--i cannot tell. we clutched each other fast, to save ourselves from being thrown off the raft. we felt violent shocks whenever we were borne heavily against the craggy projections. yet these shocks were not very frequent, from which i concluded that the gully was widening. it was no doubt the same road that saknussemm had taken; but instead of walking peaceably down it, as he had done, we were carrying a whole sea along with us. these ideas, it will be understood, presented themselves to my mind in a vague and undetermined form. i had difficulty in associating any ideas together during this headlong race, which seemed like a vertical descent. to judge by the air which was whistling past me and made a whizzing in my ears, we were moving faster than the fastest express trains. to light a torch under these' conditions would have been impossible; and our last electric apparatus had been shattered by the force of the explosion. i was therefore much surprised to see a clear light shining near me. it lighted up the calm and unmoved countenance of hans. the skilful huntsman had succeeded in lighting the lantern; and although it flickered so much as to threaten to go out, it threw a fitful light across the awful darkness. i was right in my supposition. it was a wide gallery. the dim light could not show us both its walls at once. the fall of the waters which were carrying us away exceeded that of the swiftest rapids in american rivers. its surface seemed composed of a sheaf of arrows hurled with inconceivable force; i cannot convey my impressions by a better comparison. the raft, occasionally seized by an eddy, spun round as it still flew along. when it approached the walls of the gallery i threw on them the light of the lantern, and i could judge somewhat of the velocity of our speed by noticing how the jagged projections of the rocks spun into endless ribbons and bands, so that we seemed confined within a network of shifting lines. i supposed we were running at the rate of thirty leagues an hour. my uncle and i gazed on each other with haggard eyes, clinging to the stump of the mast, which had snapped asunder at the first shock of our great catastrophe. we kept our backs to the wind, not to be stifled by the rapidity of a movement which no human power could check. hours passed away. no change in our situation; but a discovery came to complicate matters and make them worse. in seeking to put our cargo into somewhat better order, i found that the greater part of the articles embarked had disappeared at the moment of the explosion, when the sea broke in upon us with such violence. i wanted to know exactly what we had saved, and with the lantern in my hand i began my examination. of our instruments none were saved but the compass and the chronometer; our stock of ropes and ladders was reduced to the bit of cord rolled round the stump of the mast! not a spade, not a pickaxe, not a hammer was left us; and, irreparable disaster! we had only one day's provisions left. i searched every nook and corner, every crack and cranny in the raft. there was nothing. our provisions were reduced to one bit of salt meat and a few biscuits. i stared at our failing supplies stupidly. i refused to take in the gravity of our loss. and yet what was the use of troubling myself. if we had had provisions enough for months, how could we get out of the abyss into which we were being hurled by an irresistible torrent? why should we fear the horrors of famine, when death was swooping down upon us in a multitude of other forms? would there be time left to die of starvation? yet by an inexplicable play of the imagination i forgot my present dangers, to contemplate the threatening future. was there any chance of escaping from the fury of this impetuous torrent, and of returning to the surface of the globe? i could not form the slightest conjecture how or when. but one chance in a thousand, or ten thousand, is still a chance; whilst death from starvation would leave us not the smallest hope in the world. the thought came into my mind to declare the whole truth to my uncle, to show him the dreadful straits to which we were reduced, and to calculate how long we might yet expect to live. but i had the courage to preserve silence. i wished to leave him cool and self-possessed. at that moment the light from our lantern began to sink by little and little, and then went out entirely. the wick had burnt itself out. black night reigned again; and there was no hope left of being able to dissipate the palpable darkness. we had yet a torch left, but we could not have kept it alight. then, like a child, i closed my eyes firmly, not to see the darkness. after a considerable lapse of time our speed redoubled. i could perceive it by the sharpness of the currents that blew past my face. the descent became steeper. i believe we were no longer sliding, but falling down. i had an impression that we were dropping vertically. my uncle's hand, and the vigorous arm of hans, held me fast. suddenly, after a space of time that i could not measure, i felt a shock. the raft had not struck against any hard resistance, but had suddenly been checked in its fall. a waterspout, an immense liquid column, was beating upon the surface of the waters. i was suffocating! i was drowning! but this sudden flood was not of long duration. in a few seconds i found myself in the air again, which i inhaled with all the force of my lungs. my uncle and hans were still holding me fast by the arms; and the raft was still carrying us. chapter xlii. headlong speed upward through the horrors of darkness it might have been, as i guessed, about ten at night. the first of my senses which came into play after this last bout was that of hearing. all at once i could hear; and it was a real exercise of the sense of hearing. i could hear the silence in the gallery after the din which for hours had stunned me. at last these words of my uncle's came to me like a vague murmuring: "we are going up." "what do you mean?" i cried. "yes, we are going up--up!" i stretched out my arm. i touched the wall, and drew back my hand bleeding. we were ascending with extreme rapidity. "the torch! the torch!" cried the professor. not without difficulty hans succeeded in lighting the torch; and the flame, preserving its upward tendency, threw enough light to show us what kind of a place we were in. "just as i thought," said the professor "we are in a tunnel not four-and-twenty feet in diameter. the water had reached the bottom of the gulf. it is now rising to its level, and carrying us with it." "where to?" "i cannot tell; but we must be ready for anything. we are mounting at a speed which seems to me of fourteen feet in a second, or ten miles an hour. at this rate we shall get on." "yes, if nothing stops us; if this well has an aperture. but suppose it to be stopped. if the air is condensed by the pressure of this column of water we shall be crushed." "axel," replied the professor with perfect coolness, "our situation is almost desperate; but there are some chances of deliverance, and it is these that i am considering. if at every instant we may perish, so at every instant we may be saved. let us then be prepared to seize upon the smallest advantage." "but what shall we do now?" "recruit our strength by eating." at these words i fixed a haggard eye upon my uncle. that which i had been so unwilling to confess at last had to be told. "eat, did you say?" "yes, at once." the professor added a few words in danish, but hans shook his head mournfully. "what!" cried my uncle. "have we lost our provisions?" "yes; here is all we have left; one bit of salt meat for the three." my uncle stared at me as if he could not understand. "well," said i, "do you think we have any chance of being saved?" my question was unanswered. an hour passed away. i began to feel the pangs of a violent hunger. my companions were suffering too, and not one of us dared touch this wretched remnant of our goodly store. but now we were mounting up with excessive speed. sometimes the air would cut our breath short, as is experienced by aeronauts ascending too rapidly. but whilst they suffer from cold in proportion to their rise, we were beginning to feel a contrary effect. the heat was increasing in a manner to cause us the most fearful anxiety, and certainly the temperature was at this moment at the height of ° fahr. what could be the meaning of such a change? up to this time facts had supported the theories of davy and of liedenbrock; until now particular conditions of non-conducting rocks, electricity and magnetism, had tempered the laws of nature, giving us only a moderately warm climate, for the theory of a central fire remained in my estimation the only one that was true and explicable. were we then turning back to where the phenomena of central heat ruled in all their rigour and would reduce the most refractory rocks to the state of a molten liquid? i feared this, and said to the professor: "if we are neither drowned, nor shattered to pieces, nor starved to death, there is still the chance that we may be burned alive and reduced to ashes." at this he shrugged his shoulders and returned to his thoughts. another hour passed, and, except some slight increase in the temperature, nothing new had happened. "come," said he, "we must determine upon something." "determine on what?" said i. "yes, we must recruit our strength by carefully rationing ourselves, and so prolong our existence by a few hours. but we shall be reduced to very great weakness at last." "and our last hour is not far off." "well, if there is a chance of safety, if a moment for active exertion presents itself, where should we find the required strength if we allowed ourselves to be enfeebled by hunger?" "well, uncle, when this bit of meat has been devoured what shall we have left?" "nothing, axel, nothing at all. but will it do you any more good to devour it with your eyes than with your teeth? your reasoning has in it neither sense nor energy." "then don't you despair?" i cried irritably. "no, certainly not," was the professor's firm reply. "what! do you think there is any chance of safety left?" "yes, i do; as long as the heart beats, as long as body and soul keep together, i cannot admit that any creature endowed with a will has need to despair of life." resolute words these! the man who could speak so, under such circumstances, was of no ordinary type. "finally, what do you mean to do?" i asked. "eat what is left to the last crumb, and recruit our fading strength. this meal will be our last, perhaps: so let it be! but at any rate we shall once more be men, and not exhausted, empty bags." "well, let us consume it then," i cried. my uncle took the piece of meat and the few biscuits which had escaped from the general destruction. he divided them into three equal portions and gave one to each. this made about a pound of nourishment for each. the professor ate his greedily, with a kind of feverish rage. i ate without pleasure, almost with disgust; hans quietly, moderately, masticating his small mouthfuls without any noise, and relishing them with the calmness of a man above all anxiety about the future. by diligent search he had found a flask of hollands; he offered it to us each in turn, and this generous beverage cheered us up slightly. "_forträfflig,_" said hans, drinking in his turn. "excellent," replied my uncle. a glimpse of hope had returned, although without cause. but our last meal was over, and it was now five in the morning. man is so constituted that health is a purely negative state. hunger once satisfied, it is difficult for a man to imagine the horrors of starvation; they cannot be understood without being felt. therefore it was that after our long fast these few mouthfuls of meat and biscuit made us triumph over our past agonies. but as soon as the meal was done, we each of us fell deep into thought. what was hans thinking of--that man of the far west, but who seemed ruled by the fatalist doctrines of the east? as for me, my thoughts were made up of remembrances, and they carried me up to the surface of the globe of which i ought never to have taken leave. the house in the königstrasse, my poor dear gräuben, that kind soul martha, flitted like visions before my eyes, and in the dismal moanings which from time to time reached my ears i thought i could distinguish the roar of the traffic of the great cities upon earth. my uncle still had his eye upon his work. torch in hand, he tried to gather some idea of our situation from the observation of the strata. this calculation could, at best, be but a vague approximation; but a learned man is always a philosopher when he succeeds in remaining cool, and assuredly professor liedenbrock possessed this quality to a surprising degree. i could hear him murmuring geological terms. i could understand them, and in spite of myself i felt interested in this last geological study. "eruptive granite," he was saying. "we are still in the primitive period. but we are going up, up, higher still. who can tell?" ah! who can tell? with his hand he was examining the perpendicular wall, and in a few more minutes he continued: "this is gneiss! here is mica schist! ah! presently we shall come to the transition period, and then--" what did the professor mean? could he be trying to measure the thickness of the crust of the earth that lay between us and the world above? had he any means of making this calculation? no, he had not the aneroid, and no guessing could supply its place. still the temperature kept rising, and i felt myself steeped in a broiling atmosphere. i could only compare it to the heat of a furnace at the moment when the molten metal is running into the mould. gradually we had been obliged to throw aside our coats and waistcoats, the lightest covering became uncomfortable and even painful. "are we rising into a fiery furnace?" i cried at one moment when the heat was redoubling. "no," replied my uncle, "that is impossible--quite impossible!" "yet," i answered, feeling the wall, "this well is burning hot." at the same moment, touching the water, i had to withdraw my hand in haste. "the water is scalding," i cried. this time the professor's only answer was an angry gesture. then an unconquerable terror seized upon me, from which i could no longer get free. i felt that a catastrophe was approaching before which the boldest spirit must quail. a dim, vague notion laid hold of my mind, but which was fast hardening into certainty. i tried to repel it, but it would return. i dared not express it in plain terms. yet a few involuntary observations confirmed me in my view. by the flickering light of the torch i could distinguish contortions in the granite beds; a phenomenon was unfolding in which electricity would play the principal part; then this unbearable heat, this boiling water! i consulted the compass. the compass had lost its properties! it had ceased to act properly! chapter xliii. shot out of a volcano at last! yes: our compass was no longer a guide; the needle flew from pole to pole with a kind of frenzied impulse; it ran round the dial, and spun hither and thither as if it were giddy or intoxicated. i knew quite well that according to the best received theories the mineral covering of the globe is never at absolute rest; the changes brought about by the chemical decomposition of its component parts, the agitation caused by great liquid torrents, and the magnetic currents, are continually tending to disturb it--even when living beings upon its surface may fancy that all is quiet below. a phenomenon of this kind would not have greatly alarmed me, or at any rate it would not have given rise to dreadful apprehensions. but other facts, other circumstances, of a peculiar nature, came to reveal to me by degrees the true state of the case. there came incessant and continuous explosions. i could only compare them to the loud rattle of a long train of chariots driven at full speed over the stones, or a roar of unintermitting thunder. then the disordered compass, thrown out of gear by the electric currents, confirmed me in a growing conviction. the mineral crust of the globe threatened to burst up, the granite foundations to come together with a crash, the fissure through which we were helplessly driven would be filled up, the void would be full of crushed fragments of rock, and we poor wretched mortals were to be buried and annihilated in this dreadful consummation. "my uncle," i cried, "we are lost now, utterly lost!" "what are you in a fright about now?" was the calm rejoinder. "what is the matter with you?" "the matter? look at those quaking walls! look at those shivering rocks. don't you feel the burning heat? don't you see how the water boils and bubbles? are you blind to the dense vapours and steam growing thicker and denser every minute? see this agitated compass needle. it is an earthquake that is threatening us." my undaunted uncle calmly shook his head. "do you think," said he, "an earthquake is coming?" "i do." "well, i think you are mistaken." "what! don't you recognise the symptoms?" "of an earthquake? no! i am looking out for something better." "what can you mean? explain?" "it is an eruption, axel." "an eruption! do you mean to affirm that we are running up the shaft of a volcano?" "i believe we are," said the indomitable professor with an air of perfect self-possession; "and it is the best thing that could possibly happen to us under our circumstances." the best thing! was my uncle stark mad? what did the man mean? and what was the use of saying facetious things at a time like this? "what!" i shouted. "are we being taken up in an eruption? our fate has flung us here among burning lavas, molten rocks, boiling waters, and all kinds of volcanic matter; we are going to be pitched out, expelled, tossed up, vomited, spit out high into the air, along with fragments of rock, showers of ashes and scoria, in the midst of a towering rush of smoke and flames; and it is the best thing that could happen to us!" "yes," replied the professor, eyeing me over his spectacles, "i don't see any other way of reaching the surface of the earth." i pass rapidly over the thousand ideas which passed through my mind. my uncle was right, undoubtedly right; and never had he seemed to me more daring and more confirmed in his notions than at this moment when he was calmly contemplating the chances of being shot out of a volcano! in the meantime up we went; the night passed away in continual ascent; the din and uproar around us became more and more intensified; i was stifled and stunned; i thought my last hour was approaching; and yet imagination is such a strong thing that even in this supreme hour i was occupied with strange and almost childish speculations. but i was the victim, not the master, of my own thoughts. it was very evident that we were being hurried upward upon the crest of a wave of eruption; beneath our raft were boiling waters, and under these the more sluggish lava was working its way up in a heated mass, together with shoals of fragments of rock which, when they arrived at the crater, would be dispersed in all directions high and low. we were imprisoned in the shaft or chimney of some volcano. there was no room to doubt of that. but this time, instead of snæfell, an extinct volcano, we were inside one in full activity. i wondered, therefore, where could this mountain be, and in what part of the world we were to be shot out. i made no doubt but that it would be in some northern region. before its disorders set in, the needle had never deviated from that direction. from cape saknussemm we had been carried due north for hundreds of leagues. were we under iceland again? were we destined to be thrown up out of hecla, or by which of the seven other fiery craters in that island? within a radius of five hundred leagues to the west i remembered under this parallel of latitude only the imperfectly known volcanoes of the north-east coast of america. to the east there was only one in the th degree of north latitude, the esk in jan mayen island, not far from spitzbergen! certainly there was no lack of craters, and there were some capacious enough to throw out a whole army! but i wanted to know which of them was to serve us for an exit from the inner world. towards morning the ascending movement became accelerated. if the heat increased, instead of diminishing, as we approached nearer to the surface of the globe, this effect was due to local causes alone, and those volcanic. the manner of our locomotion left no doubt in my mind. an enormous force, a force of hundreds of atmospheres, generated by the extreme pressure of confined vapours, was driving us irresistibly forward. but to what numberless dangers it exposed us! soon lurid lights began to penetrate the vertical gallery which widened as we went up. right and left i could see deep channels, like huge tunnels, out of which escaped dense volumes of smoke; tongues of fire lapped the walls, which crackled and sputtered under the intense heat. "see, see, my uncle!" i cried. "well, those are only sulphureous flames and vapours, which one must expect to see in an eruption. they are quite natural." "but suppose they should wrap us round." "but they won't wrap us round." "but we shall be stifled." "we shall not be stifled at all. the gallery is widening, and if it becomes necessary, we shall abandon the raft, and creep into a crevice." "but the water--the rising water?" "there is no more water, axel; only a lava paste, which is bearing us up on its surface to the top of the crater." the liquid column had indeed disappeared, to give place to dense and still boiling eruptive matter of all kinds. the temperature was becoming unbearable. a thermometer exposed to this atmosphere would have marked °. the perspiration streamed from my body. but for the rapidity of our ascent we should have been suffocated. but the professor gave up his idea of abandoning the raft, and it was well he did. however roughly joined together, those planks afforded us a firmer support than we could have found anywhere else. about eight in the morning a new incident occurred. the upward movement ceased. the raft lay motionless. "what is this?" i asked, shaken by this sudden stoppage as if by a shock. "it is a halt," replied my uncle. "is the eruption checked?" i asked. "i hope not." i rose, and tried to look around me. perhaps the raft itself, stopped in its course by a projection, was staying the volcanic torrent. if this were the case we should have to release it as soon as possible. but it was not so. the blast of ashes, scorix, and rubbish had ceased to rise. "has the eruption stopped?" i cried. "ah!" said my uncle between his clenched teeth, "you are afraid. but don't alarm yourself--this lull cannot last long. it has lasted now five minutes, and in a short time we shall resume our journey to the mouth of the crater." as he spoke, the professor continued to consult his chronometer, and he was again right in his prognostications. the raft was soon hurried and driven forward with a rapid but irregular movement, which lasted about ten minutes, and then stopped again. "very good," said my uncle; "in ten minutes more we shall be off again, for our present business lies with an intermittent volcano. it gives us time now and then to take breath." this was perfectly true. when the ten minutes were over we started off again with renewed and increased speed. we were obliged to lay fast hold of the planks of the raft, not to be thrown off. then again the paroxysm was over. i have since reflected upon this singular phenomenon without being able to explain it. at any rate it was clear that we were not in the main shaft of the volcano, but in a lateral gallery where there were felt recurrent tunes of reaction. how often this operation was repeated i cannot say. all i know is, that at each fresh impulse we were hurled forward with a greatly increased force, and we seemed as if we were mere projectiles. during the short halts we were stifled with the heat; whilst we were being projected forward the hot air almost stopped my breath. i thought for a moment how delightful it would be to find myself carried suddenly into the arctic regions, with a cold ° below the freezing point. my overheated brain conjured up visions of white plains of cool snow, where i might roll and allay my feverish heat. little by little my brain, weakened by so many constantly repeated shocks, seemed to be giving way altogether. but for the strong arm of hans i should more than once have had my head broken against the granite roof of our burning dungeon. i have therefore no exact recollection of what took place during the following hours. i have a confused impression left of continuous explosions, loud detonations, a general shaking of the rocks all around us, and of a spinning movement with which our raft was once whirled helplessly round. it rocked upon the lava torrent, amidst a dense fall of ashes. snorting flames darted their fiery tongues at us. there were wild, fierce puffs of stormy wind from below, resembling the blasts of vast iron furnaces blowing all at one time; and i caught a glimpse of the figure of hans lighted up by the fire; and all the feeling i had left was just what i imagine must be the feeling of an unhappy criminal doomed to be blown away alive from the mouth of a cannon, just before the trigger is pulled, and the flying limbs and rags of flesh and skin fill the quivering air and spatter the blood-stained ground. chapter xliv. sunny lands in the blue mediterranean when i opened my eyes again i felt myself grasped by the belt with the strong hand of our guide. with the other arm he supported my uncle. i was not seriously hurt, but i was shaken and bruised and battered all over. i found myself lying on the sloping side of a mountain only two yards from a gaping gulf, which would have swallowed me up had i leaned at all that way. hans had saved me from death whilst i lay rolling on the edge of the crater. "where are we?" asked my uncle irascibly, as if he felt much injured by being landed upon the earth again. the hunter shook his head in token of complete ignorance. "is it iceland?" i asked. "_nej,_" replied hans. "what! not iceland?" cried the professor. "hans must be mistaken," i said, raising myself up. this was our final surprise after all the astonishing events of our wonderful journey. i expected to see a white cone covered with the eternal snow of ages rising from the midst of the barren deserts of the icy north, faintly lighted with the pale rays of the arctic sun, far away in the highest latitudes known; but contrary to all our expectations, my uncle, the icelander, and myself were sitting half-way down a mountain baked under the burning rays of a southern sun, which was blistering us with the heat, and blinding us with the fierce light of his nearly vertical rays. i could not believe my own eyes; but the heated air and the sensation of burning left me no room for doubt. we had come out of the crater half naked, and the radiant orb to which we had been strangers for two months was lavishing upon us out of his blazing splendours more of his light and heat than we were able to receive with comfort. when my eyes had become accustomed to the bright light to which they had been so long strangers, i began to use them to set my imagination right. at least i would have it to be spitzbergen, and i was in no humour to give up this notion. the professor was the first to speak, and said: "well, this is not much like iceland." "but is it jan mayen?" i asked. "nor that either," he answered. "this is no northern mountain; here are no granite peaks capped with snow. look, axel, look!" above our heads, at a height of five hundred feet or more, we saw the crater of a volcano, through which, at intervals of fifteen minutes or so, there issued with loud explosions lofty columns of fire, mingled with pumice stones, ashes, and flowing lava. i could feel the heaving of the mountain, which seemed to breathe like a huge whale, and puff out fire and wind from its vast blowholes. beneath, down a pretty steep declivity, ran streams of lava for eight or nine hundred feet, giving the mountain a height of about , or , feet. but the base of the mountain was hidden in a perfect bower of rich verdure, amongst which i was able to distinguish the olive, the fig, and vines, covered with their luscious purple bunches. i was forced to confess that there was nothing arctic here. when the eye passed beyond these green surroundings it rested on a wide, blue expanse of sea or lake, which appeared to enclose this enchanting island, within a compass of only a few leagues. eastward lay a pretty little white seaport town or village, with a few houses scattered around it, and in the harbour of which a few vessels of peculiar rig were gently swayed by the softly swelling waves. beyond it, groups of islets rose from the smooth, blue waters, but in such numbers that they seemed to dot the sea like a shoal. to the west distant coasts lined the dim horizon, on some rose blue mountains of smooth, undulating forms; on a more distant coast arose a prodigious cone crowned on its summit with a snowy plume of white cloud. to the northward lay spread a vast sheet of water, sparkling and dancing under the hot, bright rays, the uniformity broken here and there by the topmast of a gallant ship appearing above the horizon, or a swelling sail moving slowly before the wind. this unforeseen spectacle was most charming to eyes long used to underground darkness. "where are we? where are we?" i asked faintly. hans closed his eyes with lazy indifference. what did it matter to him? my uncle looked round with dumb surprise. "well, whatever mountain this may be," he said at last, "it is very hot here. the explosions are going on still, and i don't think it would look well to have come out by an eruption, and then to get our heads broken by bits of falling rock. let us get down. then we shall know better what we are about. besides, i am starving, and parching with thirst." decidedly the professor was not given to contemplation. for my part, i could for another hour or two have forgotten my hunger and my fatigue to enjoy the lovely scene before me; but i had to follow my companions. the slope of the volcano was in many places of great steepness. we slid down screes of ashes, carefully avoiding the lava streams which glided sluggishly by us like fiery serpents. as we went i chattered and asked all sorts of questions as to our whereabouts, for i was too much excited not to talk a great deal. "we are in asia," i cried, "on the coasts of india, in the malay islands, or in oceania. we have passed through half the globe, and come out nearly at the antipodes." "but the compass?" said my uncle. "ay, the compass!" i said, greatly puzzled. "according to the compass we have gone northward." "has it lied?" "surely not. could it lie?" "unless, indeed, this is the north pole!" "oh, no, it is not the pole; but--" well, here was something that baffled us completely. i could not tell what to say. but now we were coming into that delightful greenery, and i was suffering greatly from hunger and thirst. happily, after two hours' walking, a charming country lay open before us, covered with olive trees, pomegranate trees, and delicious vines, all of which seemed to belong to anybody who pleased to claim them. besides, in our state of destitution and famine we were not likely to be particular. oh, the inexpressible pleasure of pressing those cool, sweet fruits to our lips, and eating grapes by mouthfuls off the rich, full bunches! not far off, in the grass, under the delicious shade of the trees, i discovered a spring of fresh, cool water, in which we luxuriously bathed our faces, hands, and feet. whilst we were thus enjoying the sweets of repose a child appeared out of a grove of olive trees. "ah!" i cried, "here is an inhabitant of this happy land!" it was but a poor boy, miserably ill-clad, a sufferer from poverty, and our aspect seemed to alarm him a great deal; in fact, only half clothed, with ragged hair and beards, we were a suspicious-looking party; and if the people of the country knew anything about thieves, we were very likely to frighten them. just as the poor little wretch was going to take to his heels, hans caught hold of him, and brought him to us, kicking and struggling. my uncle began to encourage him as well as he could, and said to him in good german: "_was heiszt diesen berg, mein knablein? sage mir geschwind!_" ("what is this mountain called, my little friend?") the child made no answer. "very well," said my uncle. "i infer that we are not in germany." he put the same question in english. we got no forwarder. i was a good deal puzzled. "is the child dumb?" cried the professor, who, proud of his knowledge of many languages, now tried french: "_comment appellet-on cette montagne, mon enfant?_" silence still. "now let us try italian," said my uncle; and he said: "_dove noi siamo?_" "yes, where are we?" i impatiently repeated. but there was no answer still. "will you speak when you are told?" exclaimed my uncle, shaking the urchin by the ears. "_come si noma questa isola?_" "stromboli," replied the little herdboy, slipping out of hans' hands, and scudding into the plain across the olive trees. we were hardly thinking of that. stromboli! what an effect this unexpected name produced upon my mind! we were in the midst of the mediterranean sea, on an island of the Æolian archipelago, in the ancient strongyle, where Æolus kept the winds and the storms chained up, to be let loose at his will. and those distant blue mountains in the east were the mountains of calabria. and that threatening volcano far away in the south was the fierce etna. "stromboli, stromboli!" i repeated. my uncle kept time to my exclamations with hands and feet, as well as with words. we seemed to be chanting in chorus! what a journey we had accomplished! how marvellous! having entered by one volcano, we had issued out of another more than two thousand miles from snæfell and from that barren, far-away iceland! the strange chances of our expedition had carried us into the heart of the fairest region in the world. we had exchanged the bleak regions of perpetual snow and of impenetrable barriers of ice for those of brightness and 'the rich hues of all glorious things.' we had left over our heads the murky sky and cold fogs of the frigid zone to revel under the azure sky of italy! after our delicious repast of fruits and cold, clear water we set off again to reach the port of stromboli. it would not have been wise to tell how we came there. the superstitious italians would have set us down for fire-devils vomited out of hell; so we presented ourselves in the humble guise of shipwrecked mariners. it was not so glorious, but it was safer. on my way i could hear my uncle murmuring: "but the compass! that compass! it pointed due north. how are we to explain that fact?" "my opinion is," i replied disdainfully, "that it is best not to explain it. that is the easiest way to shelve the difficulty." "indeed, sir! the occupant of a professorial chair at the johannæum unable to explain the reason of a cosmical phenomenon! why, it would be simply disgraceful!" and as he spoke, my uncle, half undressed, in rags, a perfect scarecrow, with his leathern belt around him, settling his spectacles upon his nose and looking learned and imposing, was himself again, the terrible german professor of mineralogy. one hour after we had left the grove of olives, we arrived at the little port of san vicenzo, where hans claimed his thirteen week's wages, which was counted out to him with a hearty shaking of hands all round. at that moment, if he did not share our natural emotion, at least his countenance expanded in a manner very unusual with him, and while with the ends of his fingers he lightly pressed our hands, i believe he smiled. chapter xlv. all's well that ends well such is the conclusion of a history which i cannot expect everybody to believe, for some people will believe nothing against the testimony of their own experience. however, i am indifferent to their incredulity, and they may believe as much or as little as they please. the stromboliotes received us kindly as shipwrecked mariners. they gave us food and clothing. after waiting forty-eight hours, on the st of august, a small craft took us to messina, where a few days' rest completely removed the effect of our fatigues. on friday, september the th, we embarked on the steamer volturno, employed by the french messageries imperiales, and in three days more we were at marseilles, having no care on our minds except that abominable deceitful compass, which we had mislaid somewhere and could not now examine; but its inexplicable behaviour exercised my mind fearfully. on the th of september, in the evening, we arrived at hamburg. i cannot describe to you the astonishment of martha or the joy of gräuben. "now you are a hero, axel," said to me my blushing _fiancée,_ my betrothed, "you will not leave me again!" i looked tenderly upon her, and she smiled through her tears. how can i describe the extraordinary sensation produced by the return of professor liedenbrock? thanks to martha's ineradicable tattling, the news that the professor had gone to discover a way to the centre of the earth had spread over the whole civilised world. people refused to believe it, and when they saw him they would not believe him any the more. still, the appearance of hans, and sundry pieces of intelligence derived from iceland, tended to shake the confidence of the unbelievers. then my uncle became a great man, and i was now the nephew of a great man--which is not a privilege to be despised. hamburg gave a grand fete in our honour. a public audience was given to the professor at the johannæum, at which he told all about our expedition, with only one omission, the unexplained and inexplicable behaviour of our compass. on the same day, with much state, he deposited in the archives of the city the now famous document of saknussemm, and expressed his regret that circumstances over which he had no control had prevented him from following to the very centre of the earth the track of the learned icelander. he was modest notwithstanding his glory, and he was all the more famous for his humility. so much honour could not but excite envy. there were those who envied him his fame; and as his theories, resting upon known facts, were in opposition to the systems of science upon the question of the central fire, he sustained with his pen and by his voice remarkable discussions with the learned of every country. for my part i cannot agree with his theory of gradual cooling: in spite of what i have seen and felt, i believe, and always shall believe, in the central heat. but i admit that certain circumstances not yet sufficiently understood may tend to modify in places the action of natural phenomena. while these questions were being debated with great animation, my uncle met with a real sorrow. our faithful hans, in spite of our entreaties, had left hamburg; the man to whom we owed all our success and our lives too would not suffer us to reward him as we could have wished. he was seized with the mal de pays, a complaint for which we have not even a name in english. "_farval,_" said he one day; and with that simple word he left us and sailed for rejkiavik, which he reached in safety. we were strongly attached to our brave eider-down hunter; though far away in the remotest north, he will never be forgotten by those whose lives he protected, and certainly i shall not fail to endeavour to see him once more before i die. to conclude, i have to add that this 'journey into the interior of the earth' created a wonderful sensation in the world. it was translated into all civilised languages. the leading newspapers extracted the most interesting passages, which were commented upon, picked to pieces, discussed, attacked, and defended with equal enthusiasm and determination, both by believers and sceptics. rare privilege! my uncle enjoyed during his lifetime the glory he had deservedly won; and he may even boast the distinguished honour of an offer from mr. barnum, to exhibit him on most advantageous terms in all the principal cities in the united states! but there was one 'dead fly' amidst all this glory and honour; one fact, one incident, of the journey remained a mystery. now to a man eminent for his learning, an unexplained phenomenon is an unbearable hardship. well! it was yet reserved for my uncle to be completely happy. one day, while arranging a collection of minerals in his cabinet, i noticed in a corner this unhappy compass, which we had long lost sight of; i opened it, and began to watch it. it had been in that corner for six months, little mindful of the trouble it was giving. suddenly, to my intense astonishment, i noticed a strange fact, and i uttered a cry of surprise. "what is the matter?" my uncle asked. "that compass!" "well?" "see, its poles are reversed!" "reversed?" "yes, they point the wrong way." my uncle looked, he compared, and the house shook with his triumphant leap of exultation. a light broke in upon his spirit and mine. "see there," he cried, as soon as he was able to speak. "after our arrival at cape saknussemm the north pole of the needle of this confounded compass began to point south instead of north." "evidently!" "here, then, is the explanation of our mistake. but what phenomenon could have caused this reversal of the poles?" "the reason is evident, uncle." "tell me, then, axel." "during the electric storm on the liedenbrock sea, that ball of fire, which magnetised all the iron on board, reversed the poles of our magnet!" "aha! aha!" shouted the professor with a loud laugh. "so it was just an electric joke!" from that day forth the professor was the most glorious of savants, and i was the happiest of men; for my pretty virlandaise, resigning her place as ward, took her position in the old house on the königstrasse in the double capacity of niece to my uncle and wife to a certain happy youth. what is the need of adding that the illustrious otto liedenbrock, corresponding member of all the scientific, geographical, and mineralogical societies of all the civilised world, was now her uncle and mine? at the earth's core by edgar rice burroughs contents prologue i toward the eternal fires ii a strange world iii a change of masters iv dian the beautiful v slaves vi the beginning of horror vii freedom viii the mahar temple ix the face of death x phutra again xi four dead mahars xii pursuit xiii the sly one xiv the garden of eden xv back to earth prologue in the first place please bear in mind that i do not expect you to believe this story. nor could you wonder had you witnessed a recent experience of mine when, in the armor of blissful and stupendous ignorance, i gaily narrated the gist of it to a fellow of the royal geological society on the occasion of my last trip to london. you would surely have thought that i had been detected in no less a heinous crime than the purloining of the crown jewels from the tower, or putting poison in the coffee of his majesty the king. the erudite gentleman in whom i confided congealed before i was half through!--it is all that saved him from exploding--and my dreams of an honorary fellowship, gold medals, and a niche in the hall of fame faded into the thin, cold air of his arctic atmosphere. but i believe the story, and so would you, and so would the learned fellow of the royal geological society, had you and he heard it from the lips of the man who told it to me. had you seen, as i did, the fire of truth in those gray eyes; had you felt the ring of sincerity in that quiet voice; had you realized the pathos of it all--you, too, would believe. you would not have needed the final ocular proof that i had--the weird rhamphorhynchus-like creature which he had brought back with him from the inner world. i came upon him quite suddenly, and no less unexpectedly, upon the rim of the great sahara desert. he was standing before a goat-skin tent amidst a clump of date palms within a tiny oasis. close by was an arab douar of some eight or ten tents. i had come down from the north to hunt lion. my party consisted of a dozen children of the desert--i was the only "white" man. as we approached the little clump of verdure i saw the man come from his tent and with hand-shaded eyes peer intently at us. at sight of me he advanced rapidly to meet us. "a white man!" he cried. "may the good lord be praised! i have been watching you for hours, hoping against hope that this time there would be a white man. tell me the date. what year is it?" and when i had told him he staggered as though he had been struck full in the face, so that he was compelled to grasp my stirrup leather for support. "it cannot be!" he cried after a moment. "it cannot be! tell me that you are mistaken, or that you are but joking." "i am telling you the truth, my friend," i replied. "why should i deceive a stranger, or attempt to, in so simple a matter as the date?" for some time he stood in silence, with bowed head. "ten years!" he murmured, at last. "ten years, and i thought that at the most it could be scarce more than one!" that night he told me his story--the story that i give you here as nearly in his own words as i can recall them. i toward the eternal fires i was born in connecticut about thirty years ago. my name is david innes. my father was a wealthy mine owner. when i was nineteen he died. all his property was to be mine when i had attained my majority--provided that i had devoted the two years intervening in close application to the great business i was to inherit. i did my best to fulfil the last wishes of my parent--not because of the inheritance, but because i loved and honored my father. for six months i toiled in the mines and in the counting-rooms, for i wished to know every minute detail of the business. then perry interested me in his invention. he was an old fellow who had devoted the better part of a long life to the perfection of a mechanical subterranean prospector. as relaxation he studied paleontology. i looked over his plans, listened to his arguments, inspected his working model--and then, convinced, i advanced the funds necessary to construct a full-sized, practical prospector. i shall not go into the details of its construction--it lies out there in the desert now--about two miles from here. tomorrow you may care to ride out and see it. roughly, it is a steel cylinder a hundred feet long, and jointed so that it may turn and twist through solid rock if need be. at one end is a mighty revolving drill operated by an engine which perry said generated more power to the cubic inch than any other engine did to the cubic foot. i remember that he used to claim that that invention alone would make us fabulously wealthy--we were going to make the whole thing public after the successful issue of our first secret trial--but perry never returned from that trial trip, and i only after ten years. i recall as it were but yesterday the night of that momentous occasion upon which we were to test the practicality of that wondrous invention. it was near midnight when we repaired to the lofty tower in which perry had constructed his "iron mole" as he was wont to call the thing. the great nose rested upon the bare earth of the floor. we passed through the doors into the outer jacket, secured them, and then passing on into the cabin, which contained the controlling mechanism within the inner tube, switched on the electric lights. perry looked to his generator; to the great tanks that held the life-giving chemicals with which he was to manufacture fresh air to replace that which we consumed in breathing; to his instruments for recording temperatures, speed, distance, and for examining the materials through which we were to pass. he tested the steering device, and overlooked the mighty cogs which transmitted its marvelous velocity to the giant drill at the nose of his strange craft. our seats, into which we strapped ourselves, were so arranged upon transverse bars that we would be upright whether the craft were ploughing her way downward into the bowels of the earth, or running horizontally along some great seam of coal, or rising vertically toward the surface again. at length all was ready. perry bowed his head in prayer. for a moment we were silent, and then the old man's hand grasped the starting lever. there was a frightful roaring beneath us--the giant frame trembled and vibrated--there was a rush of sound as the loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. we were off! the noise was deafening. the sensation was frightful. for a full minute neither of us could do aught but cling with the proverbial desperation of the drowning man to the handrails of our swinging seats. then perry glanced at the thermometer. "gad!" he cried, "it cannot be possible--quick! what does the distance meter read?" that and the speedometer were both on my side of the cabin, and as i turned to take a reading from the former i could see perry muttering. "ten degrees rise--it cannot be possible!" and then i saw him tug frantically upon the steering wheel. as i finally found the tiny needle in the dim light i translated perry's evident excitement, and my heart sank within me. but when i spoke i hid the fear which haunted me. "it will be seven hundred feet, perry," i said, "by the time you can turn her into the horizontal." "you'd better lend me a hand then, my boy," he replied, "for i cannot budge her out of the vertical alone. god give that our combined strength may be equal to the task, for else we are lost." i wormed my way to the old man's side with never a doubt but that the great wheel would yield on the instant to the power of my young and vigorous muscles. nor was my belief mere vanity, for always had my physique been the envy and despair of my fellows. and for that very reason it had waxed even greater than nature had intended, since my natural pride in my great strength had led me to care for and develop my body and my muscles by every means within my power. what with boxing, football, and baseball, i had been in training since childhood. and so it was with the utmost confidence that i laid hold of the huge iron rim; but though i threw every ounce of my strength into it, my best effort was as unavailing as perry's had been--the thing would not budge--the grim, insensate, horrible thing that was holding us upon the straight road to death! at length i gave up the useless struggle, and without a word returned to my seat. there was no need for words--at least none that i could imagine, unless perry desired to pray. and i was quite sure that he would, for he never left an opportunity neglected where he might sandwich in a prayer. he prayed when he arose in the morning, he prayed before he ate, he prayed when he had finished eating, and before he went to bed at night he prayed again. in between he often found excuses to pray even when the provocation seemed far-fetched to my worldly eyes--now that he was about to die i felt positive that i should witness a perfect orgy of prayer--if one may allude with such a simile to so solemn an act. but to my astonishment i discovered that with death staring him in the face abner perry was transformed into a new being. from his lips there flowed--not prayer--but a clear and limpid stream of undiluted profanity, and it was all directed at that quietly stubborn piece of unyielding mechanism. "i should think, perry," i chided, "that a man of your professed religiousness would rather be at his prayers than cursing in the presence of imminent death." "death!" he cried. "death is it that appalls you? that is nothing by comparison with the loss the world must suffer. why, david within this iron cylinder we have demonstrated possibilities that science has scarce dreamed. we have harnessed a new principle, and with it animated a piece of steel with the power of ten thousand men. that two lives will be snuffed out is nothing to the world calamity that entombs in the bowels of the earth the discoveries that i have made and proved in the successful construction of the thing that is now carrying us farther and farther toward the eternal central fires." i am frank to admit that for myself i was much more concerned with our own immediate future than with any problematic loss which the world might be about to suffer. the world was at least ignorant of its bereavement, while to me it was a real and terrible actuality. "what can we do?" i asked, hiding my perturbation beneath the mask of a low and level voice. "we may stop here, and die of asphyxiation when our atmosphere tanks are empty," replied perry, "or we may continue on with the slight hope that we may later sufficiently deflect the prospector from the vertical to carry us along the arc of a great circle which must eventually return us to the surface. if we succeed in so doing before we reach the higher internal temperature we may even yet survive. there would seem to me to be about one chance in several million that we shall succeed--otherwise we shall die more quickly but no more surely than as though we sat supinely waiting for the torture of a slow and horrible death." i glanced at the thermometer. it registered degrees. while we were talking the mighty iron mole had bored its way over a mile into the rock of the earth's crust. "let us continue on, then," i replied. "it should soon be over at this rate. you never intimated that the speed of this thing would be so high, perry. didn't you know it?" "no," he answered. "i could not figure the speed exactly, for i had no instrument for measuring the mighty power of my generator. i reasoned, however, that we should make about five hundred yards an hour." "and we are making seven miles an hour," i concluded for him, as i sat with my eyes upon the distance meter. "how thick is the earth's crust, perry?" i asked. "there are almost as many conjectures as to that as there are geologists," was his answer. "one estimates it thirty miles, because the internal heat, increasing at the rate of about one degree to each sixty to seventy feet depth, would be sufficient to fuse the most refractory substances at that distance beneath the surface. another finds that the phenomena of precession and nutation require that the earth, if not entirely solid, must at least have a shell not less than eight hundred to a thousand miles in thickness. so there you are. you may take your choice." "and if it should prove solid?" i asked. "it will be all the same to us in the end, david," replied perry. "at the best our fuel will suffice to carry us but three or four days, while our atmosphere cannot last to exceed three. neither, then, is sufficient to bear us in the safety through eight thousand miles of rock to the antipodes." "if the crust is of sufficient thickness we shall come to a final stop between six and seven hundred miles beneath the earth's surface; but during the last hundred and fifty miles of our journey we shall be corpses. am i correct?" i asked. "quite correct, david. are you frightened?" "i do not know. it all has come so suddenly that i scarce believe that either of us realizes the real terrors of our position. i feel that i should be reduced to panic; but yet i am not. i imagine that the shock has been so great as to partially stun our sensibilities." again i turned to the thermometer. the mercury was rising with less rapidity. it was now but degrees, although we had penetrated to a depth of nearly four miles. i told perry, and he smiled. "we have shattered one theory at least," was his only comment, and then he returned to his self-assumed occupation of fluently cursing the steering wheel. i once heard a pirate swear, but his best efforts would have seemed like those of a tyro alongside of perry's masterful and scientific imprecations. once more i tried my hand at the wheel, but i might as well have essayed to swing the earth itself. at my suggestion perry stopped the generator, and as we came to rest i again threw all my strength into a supreme effort to move the thing even a hair's breadth--but the results were as barren as when we had been traveling at top speed. i shook my head sadly, and motioned to the starting lever. perry pulled it toward him, and once again we were plunging downward toward eternity at the rate of seven miles an hour. i sat with my eyes glued to the thermometer and the distance meter. the mercury was rising very slowly now, though even at degrees it was almost unbearable within the narrow confines of our metal prison. about noon, or twelve hours after our start upon this unfortunate journey, we had bored to a depth of eighty-four miles, at which point the mercury registered degrees f. perry was becoming more hopeful, although upon what meager food he sustained his optimism i could not conjecture. from cursing he had turned to singing--i felt that the strain had at last affected his mind. for several hours we had not spoken except as he asked me for the readings of the instruments from time to time, and i announced them. my thoughts were filled with vain regrets. i recalled numerous acts of my past life which i should have been glad to have had a few more years to live down. there was the affair in the latin commons at andover when calhoun and i had put gunpowder in the stove--and nearly killed one of the masters. and then--but what was the use, i was about to die and atone for all these things and several more. already the heat was sufficient to give me a foretaste of the hereafter. a few more degrees and i felt that i should lose consciousness. "what are the readings now, david?" perry's voice broke in upon my somber reflections. "ninety miles and degrees," i replied. "gad, but we've knocked that thirty-mile-crust theory into a cocked hat!" he cried gleefully. "precious lot of good it will do us," i growled back. "but my boy," he continued, "doesn't that temperature reading mean anything to you? why it hasn't gone up in six miles. think of it, son!" "yes, i'm thinking of it," i answered; "but what difference will it make when our air supply is exhausted whether the temperature is degrees or , ? we'll be just as dead, and no one will know the difference, anyhow." but i must admit that for some unaccountable reason the stationary temperature did renew my waning hope. what i hoped for i could not have explained, nor did i try. the very fact, as perry took pains to explain, of the blasting of several very exact and learned scientific hypotheses made it apparent that we could not know what lay before us within the bowels of the earth, and so we might continue to hope for the best, at least until we were dead--when hope would no longer be essential to our happiness. it was very good, and logical reasoning, and so i embraced it. at one hundred miles the temperature had dropped to / degrees! when i announced it perry reached over and hugged me. from then on until noon of the second day, it continued to drop until it became as uncomfortably cold as it had been unbearably hot before. at the depth of two hundred and forty miles our nostrils were assailed by almost overpowering ammonia fumes, and the temperature had dropped to ten below zero! we suffered nearly two hours of this intense and bitter cold, until at about two hundred and forty-five miles from the surface of the earth we entered a stratum of solid ice, when the mercury quickly rose to degrees. during the next three hours we passed through ten miles of ice, eventually emerging into another series of ammonia-impregnated strata, where the mercury again fell to ten degrees below zero. slowly it rose once more until we were convinced that at last we were nearing the molten interior of the earth. at four hundred miles the temperature had reached degrees. feverishly i watched the thermometer. slowly it rose. perry had ceased singing and was at last praying. our hopes had received such a deathblow that the gradually increasing heat seemed to our distorted imaginations much greater than it really was. for another hour i saw that pitiless column of mercury rise and rise until at four hundred and ten miles it stood at degrees. now it was that we began to hang upon those readings in almost breathless anxiety. one hundred and fifty-three degrees had been the maximum temperature above the ice stratum. would it stop at this point again, or would it continue its merciless climb? we knew that there was no hope, and yet with the persistence of life itself we continued to hope against practical certainty. already the air tanks were at low ebb--there was barely enough of the precious gases to sustain us for another twelve hours. but would we be alive to know or care? it seemed incredible. at four hundred and twenty miles i took another reading. "perry!" i shouted. "perry, man! she's going down! she's going down! she's degrees again." "gad!" he cried. "what can it mean? can the earth be cold at the center?" "i do not know, perry," i answered; "but thank god, if i am to die it shall not be by fire--that is all that i have feared. i can face the thought of any death but that." down, down went the mercury until it stood as low as it had seven miles from the surface of the earth, and then of a sudden the realization broke upon us that death was very near. perry was the first to discover it. i saw him fussing with the valves that regulate the air supply. and at the same time i experienced difficulty in breathing. my head felt dizzy--my limbs heavy. i saw perry crumple in his seat. he gave himself a shake and sat erect again. then he turned toward me. "good-bye, david," he said. "i guess this is the end," and then he smiled and closed his eyes. "good-bye, perry, and good luck to you," i answered, smiling back at him. but i fought off that awful lethargy. i was very young--i did not want to die. for an hour i battled against the cruelly enveloping death that surrounded me upon all sides. at first i found that by climbing high into the framework above me i could find more of the precious life-giving elements, and for a while these sustained me. it must have been an hour after perry had succumbed that i at last came to the realization that i could no longer carry on this unequal struggle against the inevitable. with my last flickering ray of consciousness i turned mechanically toward the distance meter. it stood at exactly five hundred miles from the earth's surface--and then of a sudden the huge thing that bore us came to a stop. the rattle of hurtling rock through the hollow jacket ceased. the wild racing of the giant drill betokened that it was running loose in air--and then another truth flashed upon me. the point of the prospector was above us. slowly it dawned on me that since passing through the ice strata it had been above. we had turned in the ice and sped upward toward the earth's crust. thank god! we were safe! i put my nose to the intake pipe through which samples were to have been taken during the passage of the prospector through the earth, and my fondest hopes were realized--a flood of fresh air was pouring into the iron cabin. the reaction left me in a state of collapse, and i lost consciousness. ii a strange world i was unconscious little more than an instant, for as i lunged forward from the crossbeam to which i had been clinging, and fell with a crash to the floor of the cabin, the shock brought me to myself. my first concern was with perry. i was horrified at the thought that upon the very threshold of salvation he might be dead. tearing open his shirt i placed my ear to his breast. i could have cried with relief--his heart was beating quite regularly. at the water tank i wetted my handkerchief, slapping it smartly across his forehead and face several times. in a moment i was rewarded by the raising of his lids. for a time he lay wide-eyed and quite uncomprehending. then his scattered wits slowly foregathered, and he sat up sniffing the air with an expression of wonderment upon his face. "why, david," he cried at last, "it's air, as sure as i live. why--why what does it mean? where in the world are we? what has happened?" "it means that we're back at the surface all right, perry," i cried; "but where, i don't know. i haven't opened her up yet. been too busy reviving you. lord, man, but you had a close squeak!" "you say we're back at the surface, david? how can that be? how long have i been unconscious?" "not long. we turned in the ice stratum. don't you recall the sudden whirling of our seats? after that the drill was above you instead of below. we didn't notice it at the time; but i recall it now." "you mean to say that we turned back in the ice stratum, david? that is not possible. the prospector cannot turn unless its nose is deflected from the outside--by some external force or resistance--the steering wheel within would have moved in response. the steering wheel has not budged, david, since we started. you know that." i did know it; but here we were with our drill racing in pure air, and copious volumes of it pouring into the cabin. "we couldn't have turned in the ice stratum, perry, i know as well as you," i replied; "but the fact remains that we did, for here we are this minute at the surface of the earth again, and i am going out to see just where." "better wait till morning, david--it must be midnight now." i glanced at the chronometer. "half after twelve. we have been out seventy-two hours, so it must be midnight. nevertheless i am going to have a look at the blessed sky that i had given up all hope of ever seeing again," and so saying i lifted the bars from the inner door, and swung it open. there was quite a quantity of loose material in the jacket, and this i had to remove with a shovel to get at the opposite door in the outer shell. in a short time i had removed enough of the earth and rock to the floor of the cabin to expose the door beyond. perry was directly behind me as i threw it open. the upper half was above the surface of the ground. with an expression of surprise i turned and looked at perry--it was broad day-light without! "something seems to have gone wrong either with our calculations or the chronometer," i said. perry shook his head--there was a strange expression in his eyes. "let's have a look beyond that door, david," he cried. together we stepped out to stand in silent contemplation of a landscape at once weird and beautiful. before us a low and level shore stretched down to a silent sea. as far as the eye could reach the surface of the water was dotted with countless tiny isles--some of towering, barren, granitic rock--others resplendent in gorgeous trappings of tropical vegetation, myriad starred with the magnificent splendor of vivid blooms. behind us rose a dark and forbidding wood of giant arborescent ferns intermingled with the commoner types of a primeval tropical forest. huge creepers depended in great loops from tree to tree, dense under-brush overgrew a tangled mass of fallen trunks and branches. upon the outer verge we could see the same splendid coloring of countless blossoms that glorified the islands, but within the dense shadows all seemed dark and gloomy as the grave. and upon all the noonday sun poured its torrid rays out of a cloudless sky. "where on earth can we be?" i asked, turning to perry. for some moments the old man did not reply. he stood with bowed head, buried in deep thought. but at last he spoke. "david," he said, "i am not so sure that we are on earth." "what do you mean perry?" i cried. "do you think that we are dead, and this is heaven?" he smiled, and turning, pointing to the nose of the prospector protruding from the ground at our backs. "but for that, david, i might believe that we were indeed come to the country beyond the styx. the prospector renders that theory untenable--it, certainly, could never have gone to heaven. however i am willing to concede that we actually may be in another world from that which we have always known. if we are not on earth, there is every reason to believe that we may be in it." "we may have quartered through the earth's crust and come out upon some tropical island of the west indies," i suggested. again perry shook his head. "let us wait and see, david," he replied, "and in the meantime suppose we do a bit of exploring up and down the coast--we may find a native who can enlighten us." as we walked along the beach perry gazed long and earnestly across the water. evidently he was wrestling with a mighty problem. "david," he said abruptly, "do you perceive anything unusual about the horizon?" as i looked i began to appreciate the reason for the strangeness of the landscape that had haunted me from the first with an illusive suggestion of the bizarre and unnatural--there was no horizon! as far as the eye could reach out the sea continued and upon its bosom floated tiny islands, those in the distance reduced to mere specks; but ever beyond them was the sea, until the impression became quite real that one was looking up at the most distant point that the eyes could fathom--the distance was lost in the distance. that was all--there was no clear-cut horizontal line marking the dip of the globe below the line of vision. "a great light is commencing to break on me," continued perry, taking out his watch. "i believe that i have partially solved the riddle. it is now two o'clock. when we emerged from the prospector the sun was directly above us. where is it now?" i glanced up to find the great orb still motionless in the center of the heaven. and such a sun! i had scarcely noticed it before. fully thrice the size of the sun i had known throughout my life, and apparently so near that the sight of it carried the conviction that one might almost reach up and touch it. "my god, perry, where are we?" i exclaimed. "this thing is beginning to get on my nerves." "i think that i may state quite positively, david," he commenced, "that we are--" but he got no further. from behind us in the vicinity of the prospector there came the most thunderous, awe-inspiring roar that ever had fallen upon my ears. with one accord we turned to discover the author of that fearsome noise. had i still retained the suspicion that we were on earth the sight that met my eyes would quite entirely have banished it. emerging from the forest was a colossal beast which closely resembled a bear. it was fully as large as the largest elephant and with great forepaws armed with huge claws. its nose, or snout, depended nearly a foot below its lower jaw, much after the manner of a rudimentary trunk. the giant body was covered by a coat of thick, shaggy hair. roaring horribly it came toward us at a ponderous, shuffling trot. i turned to perry to suggest that it might be wise to seek other surroundings--the idea had evidently occurred to perry previously, for he was already a hundred paces away, and with each second his prodigious bounds increased the distance. i had never guessed what latent speed possibilities the old gentleman possessed. i saw that he was headed toward a little point of the forest which ran out toward the sea not far from where we had been standing, and as the mighty creature, the sight of which had galvanized him into such remarkable action, was forging steadily toward me. i set off after perry, though at a somewhat more decorous pace. it was evident that the massive beast pursuing us was not built for speed, so all that i considered necessary was to gain the trees sufficiently ahead of it to enable me to climb to the safety of some great branch before it came up. notwithstanding our danger i could not help but laugh at perry's frantic capers as he essayed to gain the safety of the lower branches of the trees he now had reached. the stems were bare for a distance of some fifteen feet--at least on those trees which perry attempted to ascend, for the suggestion of safety carried by the larger of the forest giants had evidently attracted him to them. a dozen times he scrambled up the trunks like a huge cat only to fall back to the ground once more, and with each failure he cast a horrified glance over his shoulder at the oncoming brute, simultaneously emitting terror-stricken shrieks that awoke the echoes of the grim forest. at length he spied a dangling creeper about the bigness of one's wrist, and when i reached the trees he was racing madly up it, hand over hand. he had almost reached the lowest branch of the tree from which the creeper depended when the thing parted beneath his weight and he fell sprawling at my feet. the misfortune now was no longer amusing, for the beast was already too close to us for comfort. seizing perry by the shoulder i dragged him to his feet, and rushing to a smaller tree--one that he could easily encircle with his arms and legs--i boosted him as far up as i could, and then left him to his fate, for a glance over my shoulder revealed the awful beast almost upon me. it was the great size of the thing alone that saved me. its enormous bulk rendered it too slow upon its feet to cope with the agility of my young muscles, and so i was enabled to dodge out of its way and run completely behind it before its slow wits could direct it in pursuit. the few seconds of grace that this gave me found me safely lodged in the branches of a tree a few paces from that in which perry had at last found a haven. did i say safely lodged? at the time i thought we were quite safe, and so did perry. he was praying--raising his voice in thanksgiving at our deliverance--and had just completed a sort of paeon of gratitude that the thing couldn't climb a tree when without warning it reared up beneath him on its enormous tail and hind feet, and reached those fearfully armed paws quite to the branch upon which he crouched. the accompanying roar was all but drowned in perry's scream of fright, and he came near tumbling headlong into the gaping jaws beneath him, so precipitate was his impetuous haste to vacate the dangerous limb. it was with a deep sigh of relief that i saw him gain a higher branch in safety. and then the brute did that which froze us both anew with horror. grasping the tree's stem with his powerful paws he dragged down with all the great weight of his huge bulk and all the irresistible force of those mighty muscles. slowly, but surely, the stem began to bend toward him. inch by inch he worked his paws upward as the tree leaned more and more from the perpendicular. perry clung chattering in a panic of terror. higher and higher into the bending and swaying tree he clambered. more and more rapidly was the tree top inclining toward the ground. i saw now why the great brute was armed with such enormous paws. the use that he was putting them to was precisely that for which nature had intended them. the sloth-like creature was herbivorous, and to feed that mighty carcass entire trees must be stripped of their foliage. the reason for its attacking us might easily be accounted for on the supposition of an ugly disposition such as that which the fierce and stupid rhinoceros of africa possesses. but these were later reflections. at the moment i was too frantic with apprehension on perry's behalf to consider aught other than a means to save him from the death that loomed so close. realizing that i could outdistance the clumsy brute in the open, i dropped from my leafy sanctuary intent only on distracting the thing's attention from perry long enough to enable the old man to gain the safety of a larger tree. there were many close by which not even the terrific strength of that titanic monster could bend. as i touched the ground i snatched a broken limb from the tangled mass that matted the jungle-like floor of the forest and, leaping unnoticed behind the shaggy back, dealt the brute a terrific blow. my plan worked like magic. from the previous slowness of the beast i had been led to look for no such marvelous agility as he now displayed. releasing his hold upon the tree he dropped on all fours and at the same time swung his great, wicked tail with a force that would have broken every bone in my body had it struck me; but, fortunately, i had turned to flee at the very instant that i felt my blow land upon the towering back. as it started in pursuit of me i made the mistake of running along the edge of the forest rather than making for the open beach. in a moment i was knee-deep in rotting vegetation, and the awful thing behind me was gaining rapidly as i floundered and fell in my efforts to extricate myself. a fallen log gave me an instant's advantage, for climbing upon it i leaped to another a few paces farther on, and in this way was able to keep clear of the mush that carpeted the surrounding ground. but the zigzag course that this necessitated was placing such a heavy handicap upon me that my pursuer was steadily gaining upon me. suddenly from behind i heard a tumult of howls, and sharp, piercing barks--much the sound that a pack of wolves raises when in full cry. involuntarily i glanced backward to discover the origin of this new and menacing note with the result that i missed my footing and went sprawling once more upon my face in the deep muck. my mammoth enemy was so close by this time that i knew i must feel the weight of one of his terrible paws before i could rise, but to my surprise the blow did not fall upon me. the howling and snapping and barking of the new element which had been infused into the melee now seemed centered quite close behind me, and as i raised myself upon my hands and glanced around i saw what it was that had distracted the dyryth, as i afterward learned the thing is called, from my trail. it was surrounded by a pack of some hundred wolf-like creatures--wild dogs they seemed--that rushed growling and snapping in upon it from all sides, so that they sank their white fangs into the slow brute and were away again before it could reach them with its huge paws or sweeping tail. but these were not all that my startled eyes perceived. chattering and gibbering through the lower branches of the trees came a company of manlike creatures evidently urging on the dog pack. they were to all appearances strikingly similar in aspect to the negro of africa. their skins were very black, and their features much like those of the more pronounced negroid type except that the head receded more rapidly above the eyes, leaving little or no forehead. their arms were rather longer and their legs shorter in proportion to the torso than in man, and later i noticed that their great toes protruded at right angles from their feet--because of their arboreal habits, i presume. behind them trailed long, slender tails which they used in climbing quite as much as they did either their hands or feet. i had stumbled to my feet the moment that i discovered that the wolf-dogs were holding the dyryth at bay. at sight of me several of the savage creatures left off worrying the great brute to come slinking with bared fangs toward me, and as i turned to run toward the trees again to seek safety among the lower branches, i saw a number of the man-apes leaping and chattering in the foliage of the nearest tree. between them and the beasts behind me there was little choice, but at least there was a doubt as to the reception these grotesque parodies on humanity would accord me, while there was none as to the fate which awaited me beneath the grinning fangs of my fierce pursuers. and so i raced on toward the trees intending to pass beneath that which held the man-things and take refuge in another farther on; but the wolf-dogs were very close behind me--so close that i had despaired of escaping them, when one of the creatures in the tree above swung down headforemost, his tail looped about a great limb, and grasping me beneath my armpits swung me in safety up among his fellows. there they fell to examining me with the utmost excitement and curiosity. they picked at my clothing, my hair, and my flesh. they turned me about to see if i had a tail, and when they discovered that i was not so equipped they fell into roars of laughter. their teeth were very large and white and even, except for the upper canines which were a trifle longer than the others--protruding just a bit when the mouth was closed. when they had examined me for a few moments one of them discovered that my clothing was not a part of me, with the result that garment by garment they tore it from me amidst peals of the wildest laughter. apelike, they essayed to don the apparel themselves, but their ingenuity was not sufficient to the task and so they gave it up. in the meantime i had been straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of perry, but nowhere about could i see him, although the clump of trees in which he had first taken refuge was in full view. i was much exercised by fear that something had befallen him, and though i called his name aloud several times there was no response. tired at last of playing with my clothing the creatures threw it to the ground, and catching me, one on either side, by an arm, started off at a most terrifying pace through the tree tops. never have i experienced such a journey before or since--even now i oftentimes awake from a deep sleep haunted by the horrid remembrance of that awful experience. from tree to tree the agile creatures sprang like flying squirrels, while the cold sweat stood upon my brow as i glimpsed the depths beneath, into which a single misstep on the part of either of my bearers would hurl me. as they bore me along, my mind was occupied with a thousand bewildering thoughts. what had become of perry? would i ever see him again? what were the intentions of these half-human things into whose hands i had fallen? were they inhabitants of the same world into which i had been born? no! it could not be. but yet where else? i had not left that earth--of that i was sure. still neither could i reconcile the things which i had seen to a belief that i was still in the world of my birth. with a sigh i gave it up. iii a change of masters we must have traveled several miles through the dark and dismal wood when we came suddenly upon a dense village built high among the branches of the trees. as we approached it my escort broke into wild shouting which was immediately answered from within, and a moment later a swarm of creatures of the same strange race as those who had captured me poured out to meet us. again i was the center of a wildly chattering horde. i was pulled this way and that. pinched, pounded, and thumped until i was black and blue, yet i do not think that their treatment was dictated by either cruelty or malice--i was a curiosity, a freak, a new plaything, and their childish minds required the added evidence of all their senses to back up the testimony of their eyes. presently they dragged me within the village, which consisted of several hundred rude shelters of boughs and leaves supported upon the branches of the trees. between the huts, which sometimes formed crooked streets, were dead branches and the trunks of small trees which connected the huts upon one tree to those within adjoining trees; the whole network of huts and pathways forming an almost solid flooring a good fifty feet above the ground. i wondered why these agile creatures required connecting bridges between the trees, but later when i saw the motley aggregation of half-savage beasts which they kept within their village i realized the necessity for the pathways. there were a number of the same vicious wolf-dogs which we had left worrying the dyryth, and many goatlike animals whose distended udders explained the reasons for their presence. my guard halted before one of the huts into which i was pushed; then two of the creatures squatted down before the entrance--to prevent my escape, doubtless. though where i should have escaped to i certainly had not the remotest conception. i had no more than entered the dark shadows of the interior than there fell upon my ears the tones of a familiar voice, in prayer. "perry!" i cried. "dear old perry! thank the lord you are safe." "david! can it be possible that you escaped?" and the old man stumbled toward me and threw his arms about me. he had seen me fall before the dyryth, and then he had been seized by a number of the ape-creatures and borne through the tree tops to their village. his captors had been as inquisitive as to his strange clothing as had mine, with the same result. as we looked at each other we could not help but laugh. "with a tail, david," remarked perry, "you would make a very handsome ape." "maybe we can borrow a couple," i rejoined. "they seem to be quite the thing this season. i wonder what the creatures intend doing with us, perry. they don't seem really savage. what do you suppose they can be? you were about to tell me where we are when that great hairy frigate bore down upon us--have you really any idea at all?" "yes, david," he replied, "i know precisely where we are. we have made a magnificent discovery, my boy! we have proved that the earth is hollow. we have passed entirely through its crust to the inner world." "perry, you are mad!" "not at all, david. for two hundred and fifty miles our prospector bore us through the crust beneath our outer world. at that point it reached the center of gravity of the five-hundred-mile-thick crust. up to that point we had been descending--direction is, of course, merely relative. then at the moment that our seats revolved--the thing that made you believe that we had turned about and were speeding upward--we passed the center of gravity and, though we did not alter the direction of our progress, yet we were in reality moving upward--toward the surface of the inner world. does not the strange fauna and flora which we have seen convince you that you are not in the world of your birth? and the horizon--could it present the strange aspects which we both noted unless we were indeed standing upon the inside surface of a sphere?" "but the sun, perry!" i urged. "how in the world can the sun shine through five hundred miles of solid crust?" "it is not the sun of the outer world that we see here. it is another sun--an entirely different sun--that casts its eternal noonday effulgence upon the face of the inner world. look at it now, david--if you can see it from the doorway of this hut--and you will see that it is still in the exact center of the heavens. we have been here for many hours--yet it is still noon. "and withal it is very simple, david. the earth was once a nebulous mass. it cooled, and as it cooled it shrank. at length a thin crust of solid matter formed upon its outer surface--a sort of shell; but within it was partially molten matter and highly expanded gases. as it continued to cool, what happened? centrifugal force burled the particles of the nebulous center toward the crust as rapidly as they approached a solid state. you have seen the same principle practically applied in the modern cream separator. presently there was only a small super-heated core of gaseous matter remaining within a huge vacant interior left by the contraction of the cooling gases. the equal attraction of the solid crust from all directions maintained this luminous core in the exact center of the hollow globe. what remains of it is the sun you saw today--a relatively tiny thing at the exact center of the earth. equally to every part of this inner world it diffuses its perpetual noonday light and torrid heat. "this inner world must have cooled sufficiently to support animal life long ages after life appeared upon the outer crust, but that the same agencies were at work here is evident from the similar forms of both animal and vegetable creation which we have already seen. take the great beast which attacked us, for example. unquestionably a counterpart of the megatherium of the post-pliocene period of the outer crust, whose fossilized skeleton has been found in south america." "but the grotesque inhabitants of this forest?" i urged. "surely they have no counterpart in the earth's history." "who can tell?" he rejoined. "they may constitute the link between ape and man, all traces of which have been swallowed by the countless convulsions which have racked the outer crust, or they may be merely the result of evolution along slightly different lines--either is quite possible." further speculation was interrupted by the appearance of several of our captors before the entrance of the hut. two of them entered and dragged us forth. the perilous pathways and the surrounding trees were filled with the black ape-men, their females, and their young. there was not an ornament, a weapon, or a garment among the lot. "quite low in the scale of creation," commented perry. "quite high enough to play the deuce with us, though," i replied. "now what do you suppose they intend doing with us?" we were not long in learning. as on the occasion of our trip to the village we were seized by a couple of the powerful creatures and whirled away through the tree tops, while about us and in our wake raced a chattering, jabbering, grinning horde of sleek, black ape-things. twice my bearers missed their footing, and my heart ceased beating as we plunged toward instant death among the tangled deadwood beneath. but on both occasions those lithe, powerful tails reached out and found sustaining branches, nor did either of the creatures loosen their grasp upon me. in fact, it seemed that the incidents were of no greater moment to them than would be the stubbing of one's toe at a street crossing in the outer world--they but laughed uproariously and sped on with me. for some time they continued through the forest--how long i could not guess for i was learning, what was later borne very forcefully to my mind, that time ceases to be a factor the moment means for measuring it cease to exist. our watches were gone, and we were living beneath a stationary sun. already i was puzzled to compute the period of time which had elapsed since we broke through the crust of the inner world. it might be hours, or it might be days--who in the world could tell where it was always noon! by the sun, no time had elapsed--but my judgment told me that we must have been several hours in this strange world. presently the forest terminated, and we came out upon a level plain. a short distance before us rose a few low, rocky hills. toward these our captors urged us, and after a short time led us through a narrow pass into a tiny, circular valley. here they got down to work, and we were soon convinced that if we were not to die to make a roman holiday, we were to die for some other purpose. the attitude of our captors altered immediately as they entered the natural arena within the rocky hills. their laughter ceased. grim ferocity marked their bestial faces--bared fangs menaced us. we were placed in the center of the amphitheater--the thousand creatures forming a great ring about us. then a wolf-dog was brought--hyaenodon perry called it--and turned loose with us inside the circle. the thing's body was as large as that of a full-grown mastiff, its legs were short and powerful, and its jaws broad and strong. dark, shaggy hair covered its back and sides, while its breast and belly were quite white. as it slunk toward us it presented a most formidable aspect with its upcurled lips baring its mighty fangs. perry was on his knees, praying. i stooped and picked up a small stone. at my movement the beast veered off a bit and commenced circling us. evidently it had been a target for stones before. the ape-things were dancing up and down urging the brute on with savage cries, until at last, seeing that i did not throw, he charged us. at andover, and later at yale, i had pitched on winning ball teams. my speed and control must both have been above the ordinary, for i made such a record during my senior year at college that overtures were made to me in behalf of one of the great major-league teams; but in the tightest pitch that ever had confronted me in the past i had never been in such need for control as now. as i wound up for the delivery, i held my nerves and muscles under absolute command, though the grinning jaws were hurtling toward me at terrific speed. and then i let go, with every ounce of my weight and muscle and science in back of that throw. the stone caught the hyaenodon full upon the end of the nose, and sent him bowling over upon his back. at the same instant a chorus of shrieks and howls arose from the circle of spectators, so that for a moment i thought that the upsetting of their champion was the cause; but in this i soon saw that i was mistaken. as i looked, the ape-things broke in all directions toward the surrounding hills, and then i distinguished the real cause of their perturbation. behind them, streaming through the pass which leads into the valley, came a swarm of hairy men--gorilla-like creatures armed with spears and hatchets, and bearing long, oval shields. like demons they set upon the ape-things, and before them the hyaenodon, which had now regained its senses and its feet, fled howling with fright. past us swept the pursued and the pursuers, nor did the hairy ones accord us more than a passing glance until the arena had been emptied of its former occupants. then they returned to us, and one who seemed to have authority among them directed that we be brought with them. when we had passed out of the amphitheater onto the great plain we saw a caravan of men and women--human beings like ourselves--and for the first time hope and relief filled my heart, until i could have cried out in the exuberance of my happiness. it is true that they were a half-naked, wild-appearing aggregation; but they at least were fashioned along the same lines as ourselves--there was nothing grotesque or horrible about them as about the other creatures in this strange, weird world. but as we came closer, our hearts sank once more, for we discovered that the poor wretches were chained neck to neck in a long line, and that the gorilla-men were their guards. with little ceremony perry and i were chained at the end of the line, and without further ado the interrupted march was resumed. up to this time the excitement had kept us both up; but now the tiresome monotony of the long march across the sun-baked plain brought on all the agonies consequent to a long-denied sleep. on and on we stumbled beneath that hateful noonday sun. if we fell we were prodded with a sharp point. our companions in chains did not stumble. they strode along proudly erect. occasionally they would exchange words with one another in a monosyllabic language. they were a noble-appearing race with well-formed heads and perfect physiques. the men were heavily bearded, tall and muscular; the women, smaller and more gracefully molded, with great masses of raven hair caught into loose knots upon their heads. the features of both sexes were well proportioned--there was not a face among them that would have been called even plain if judged by earthly standards. they wore no ornaments; but this i later learned was due to the fact that their captors had stripped them of everything of value. as garmenture the women possessed a single robe of some light-colored, spotted hide, rather similar in appearance to a leopard's skin. this they wore either supported entirely about the waist by a leathern thong, so that it hung partially below the knee on one side, or possibly looped gracefully across one shoulder. their feet were shod with skin sandals. the men wore loin cloths of the hide of some shaggy beast, long ends of which depended before and behind nearly to the ground. in some instances these ends were finished with the strong talons of the beast from which the hides had been taken. our guards, whom i already have described as gorilla-like men, were rather lighter in build than a gorilla, but even so they were indeed mighty creatures. their arms and legs were proportioned more in conformity with human standards, but their entire bodies were covered with shaggy, brown hair, and their faces were quite as brutal as those of the few stuffed specimens of the gorilla which i had seen in the museums at home. their only redeeming feature lay in the development of the head above and back of the ears. in this respect they were not one whit less human than we. they were clothed in a sort of tunic of light cloth which reached to the knees. beneath this they wore only a loin cloth of the same material, while their feet were shod with thick hide of some mammoth creature of this inner world. their arms and necks were encircled by many ornaments of metal--silver predominating--and on their tunics were sewn the heads of tiny reptiles in odd and rather artistic designs. they talked among themselves as they marched along on either side of us, but in a language which i perceived differed from that employed by our fellow prisoners. when they addressed the latter they used what appeared to be a third language, and which i later learned is a mongrel tongue rather analogous to the pidgin-english of the chinese coolie. how far we marched i have no conception, nor has perry. both of us were asleep much of the time for hours before a halt was called--then we dropped in our tracks. i say "for hours," but how may one measure time where time does not exist! when our march commenced the sun stood at zenith. when we halted our shadows still pointed toward nadir. whether an instant or an eternity of earthly time elapsed who may say. that march may have occupied nine years and eleven months of the ten years that i spent in the inner world, or it may have been accomplished in the fraction of a second--i cannot tell. but this i do know that since you have told me that ten years have elapsed since i departed from this earth i have lost all respect for time--i am commencing to doubt that such a thing exists other than in the weak, finite mind of man. iv dian the beautiful when our guards aroused us from sleep we were much refreshed. they gave us food. strips of dried meat it was, but it put new life and strength into us, so that now we too marched with high-held heads, and took noble strides. at least i did, for i was young and proud; but poor perry hated walking. on earth i had often seen him call a cab to travel a square--he was paying for it now, and his old legs wobbled so that i put my arm about him and half carried him through the balance of those frightful marches. the country began to change at last, and we wound up out of the level plain through mighty mountains of virgin granite. the tropical verdure of the lowlands was replaced by hardier vegetation, but even here the effects of constant heat and light were apparent in the immensity of the trees and the profusion of foliage and blooms. crystal streams roared through their rocky channels, fed by the perpetual snows which we could see far above us. above the snowcapped heights hung masses of heavy clouds. it was these, perry explained, which evidently served the double purpose of replenishing the melting snows and protecting them from the direct rays of the sun. by this time we had picked up a smattering of the bastard language in which our guards addressed us, as well as making good headway in the rather charming tongue of our co-captives. directly ahead of me in the chain gang was a young woman. three feet of chain linked us together in a forced companionship which i, at least, soon rejoiced in. for i found her a willing teacher, and from her i learned the language of her tribe, and much of the life and customs of the inner world--at least that part of it with which she was familiar. she told me that she was called dian the beautiful, and that she belonged to the tribe of amoz, which dwells in the cliffs above the darel az, or shallow sea. "how came you here?" i asked her. "i was running away from jubal the ugly one," she answered, as though that was explanation quite sufficient. "who is jubal the ugly one?" i asked. "and why did you run away from him?" she looked at me in surprise. "why does a woman run away from a man?" she answered my question with another. "they do not, where i come from," i replied. "sometimes they run after them." but she could not understand. nor could i get her to grasp the fact that i was of another world. she was quite as positive that creation was originated solely to produce her own kind and the world she lived in as are many of the outer world. "but jubal," i insisted. "tell me about him, and why you ran away to be chained by the neck and scourged across the face of a world." "jubal the ugly one placed his trophy before my father's house. it was the head of a mighty tandor. it remained there and no greater trophy was placed beside it. so i knew that jubal the ugly one would come and take me as his mate. none other so powerful wished me, or they would have slain a mightier beast and thus have won me from jubal. my father is not a mighty hunter. once he was, but a sadok tossed him, and never again had he the full use of his right arm. my brother, dacor the strong one, had gone to the land of sari to steal a mate for himself. thus there was none, father, brother, or lover, to save me from jubal the ugly one, and i ran away and hid among the hills that skirt the land of amoz. and there these sagoths found me and made me captive." "what will they do with you?" i asked. "where are they taking us?" again she looked her incredulity. "i can almost believe that you are of another world," she said, "for otherwise such ignorance were inexplicable. do you really mean that you do not know that the sagoths are the creatures of the mahars--the mighty mahars who think they own pellucidar and all that walks or grows upon its surface, or creeps or burrows beneath, or swims within its lakes and oceans, or flies through its air? next you will be telling me that you never before heard of the mahars!" i was loath to do it, and further incur her scorn; but there was no alternative if i were to absorb knowledge, so i made a clean breast of my pitiful ignorance as to the mighty mahars. she was shocked. but she did her very best to enlighten me, though much that she said was as greek would have been to her. she described the mahars largely by comparisons. in this way they were like unto thipdars, in that to the hairless lidi. about all i gleaned of them was that they were quite hideous, had wings, and webbed feet; lived in cities built beneath the ground; could swim under water for great distances, and were very, very wise. the sagoths were their weapons of offense and defense, and the races like herself were their hands and feet--they were the slaves and servants who did all the manual labor. the mahars were the heads--the brains--of the inner world. i longed to see this wondrous race of supermen. perry learned the language with me. when we halted, as we occasionally did, though sometimes the halts seemed ages apart, he would join in the conversation, as would ghak the hairy one, he who was chained just ahead of dian the beautiful. ahead of ghak was hooja the sly one. he too entered the conversation occasionally. most of his remarks were directed toward dian the beautiful. it didn't take half an eye to see that he had developed a bad case; but the girl appeared totally oblivious to his thinly veiled advances. did i say thinly veiled? there is a race of men in new zealand, or australia, i have forgotten which, who indicate their preference for the lady of their affections by banging her over the head with a bludgeon. by comparison with this method hooja's lovemaking might be called thinly veiled. at first it caused me to blush violently although i have seen several old years out at rectors, and in other less fashionable places off broadway, and in vienna, and hamburg. but the girl! she was magnificent. it was easy to see that she considered herself as entirely above and apart from her present surroundings and company. she talked with me, and with perry, and with the taciturn ghak because we were respectful; but she couldn't even see hooja the sly one, much less hear him, and that made him furious. he tried to get one of the sagoths to move the girl up ahead of him in the slave gang, but the fellow only poked him with his spear and told him that he had selected the girl for his own property--that he would buy her from the mahars as soon as they reached phutra. phutra, it seemed, was the city of our destination. after passing over the first chain of mountains we skirted a salt sea, upon whose bosom swam countless horrid things. seal-like creatures there were with long necks stretching ten and more feet above their enormous bodies and whose snake heads were split with gaping mouths bristling with countless fangs. there were huge tortoises too, paddling about among these other reptiles, which perry said were plesiosaurs of the lias. i didn't question his veracity--they might have been most anything. dian told me they were tandorazes, or tandors of the sea, and that the other, and more fearsome reptiles, which occasionally rose from the deep to do battle with them, were azdyryths, or sea-dyryths--perry called them ichthyosaurs. they resembled a whale with the head of an alligator. i had forgotten what little geology i had studied at school--about all that remained was an impression of horror that the illustrations of restored prehistoric monsters had made upon me, and a well-defined belief that any man with a pig's shank and a vivid imagination could "restore" most any sort of paleolithic monster he saw fit, and take rank as a first class paleontologist. but when i saw these sleek, shiny carcasses shimmering in the sunlight as they emerged from the ocean, shaking their giant heads; when i saw the waters roll from their sinuous bodies in miniature waterfalls as they glided hither and thither, now upon the surface, now half submerged; as i saw them meet, open-mouthed, hissing and snorting, in their titanic and interminable warring i realized how futile is man's poor, weak imagination by comparison with nature's incredible genius. and perry! he was absolutely flabbergasted. he said so himself. "david," he remarked, after we had marched for a long time beside that awful sea. "david, i used to teach geology, and i thought that i believed what i taught; but now i see that i did not believe it--that it is impossible for man to believe such things as these unless he sees them with his own eyes. we take things for granted, perhaps, because we are told them over and over again, and have no way of disproving them--like religions, for example; but we don't believe them, we only think we do. if you ever get back to the outer world you will find that the geologists and paleontologists will be the first to set you down a liar, for they know that no such creatures as they restore ever existed. it is all right to imagine them as existing in an equally imaginary epoch--but now? poof!" at the next halt hooja the sly one managed to find enough slack chain to permit him to worm himself back quite close to dian. we were all standing, and as he edged near the girl she turned her back upon him in such a truly earthly feminine manner that i could scarce repress a smile; but it was a short-lived smile for on the instant the sly one's hand fell upon the girl's bare arm, jerking her roughly toward him. i was not then familiar with the customs or social ethics which prevailed within pellucidar; but even so i did not need the appealing look which the girl shot to me from her magnificent eyes to influence my subsequent act. what the sly one's intention was i paused not to inquire; but instead, before he could lay hold of her with his other hand, i placed a right to the point of his jaw that felled him in his tracks. a roar of approval went up from those of the other prisoners and the sagoths who had witnessed the brief drama; not, as i later learned, because i had championed the girl, but for the neat and, to them, astounding method by which i had bested hooja. and the girl? at first she looked at me with wide, wondering eyes, and then she dropped her head, her face half averted, and a delicate flush suffused her cheek. for a moment she stood thus in silence, and then her head went high, and she turned her back upon me as she had upon hooja. some of the prisoners laughed, and i saw the face of ghak the hairy one go very black as he looked at me searchingly. and what i could see of dian's cheek went suddenly from red to white. immediately after we resumed the march, and though i realized that in some way i had offended dian the beautiful i could not prevail upon her to talk with me that i might learn wherein i had erred--in fact i might quite as well have been addressing a sphinx for all the attention i got. at last my own foolish pride stepped in and prevented my making any further attempts, and thus a companionship that without my realizing it had come to mean a great deal to me was cut off. thereafter i confined my conversation to perry. hooja did not renew his advances toward the girl, nor did he again venture near me. again the weary and apparently interminable marching became a perfect nightmare of horrors to me. the more firmly fixed became the realization that the girl's friendship had meant so much to me, the more i came to miss it; and the more impregnable the barrier of silly pride. but i was very young and would not ask ghak for the explanation which i was sure he could give, and that might have made everything all right again. on the march, or during halts, dian refused consistently to notice me--when her eyes wandered in my direction she looked either over my head or directly through me. at last i became desperate, and determined to swallow my self-esteem, and again beg her to tell me how i had offended, and how i might make reparation. i made up my mind that i should do this at the next halt. we were approaching another range of mountains at the time, and when we reached them, instead of winding across them through some high-flung pass we entered a mighty natural tunnel--a series of labyrinthine grottoes, dark as erebus. the guards had no torches or light of any description. in fact we had seen no artificial light or sign of fire since we had entered pellucidar. in a land of perpetual noon there is no need of light above ground, yet i marveled that they had no means of lighting their way through these dark, subterranean passages. so we crept along at a snail's pace, with much stumbling and falling--the guards keeping up a singsong chant ahead of us, interspersed with certain high notes which i found always indicated rough places and turns. halts were now more frequent, but i did not wish to speak to dian until i could see from the expression of her face how she was receiving my apologies. at last a faint glow ahead forewarned us of the end of the tunnel, for which i for one was devoutly thankful. then at a sudden turn we emerged into the full light of the noonday sun. but with it came a sudden realization of what meant to me a real catastrophe--dian was gone, and with her a half-dozen other prisoners. the guards saw it too, and the ferocity of their rage was terrible to behold. their awesome, bestial faces were contorted in the most diabolical expressions, as they accused each other of responsibility for the loss. finally they fell upon us, beating us with their spear shafts, and hatchets. they had already killed two near the head of the line, and were like to have finished the balance of us when their leader finally put a stop to the brutal slaughter. never in all my life had i witnessed a more horrible exhibition of bestial rage--i thanked god that dian had not been one of those left to endure it. of the twelve prisoners who had been chained ahead of me each alternate one had been freed commencing with dian. hooja was gone. ghak remained. what could it mean? how had it been accomplished? the commander of the guards was investigating. soon he discovered that the rude locks which had held the neckbands in place had been deftly picked. "hooja the sly one," murmured ghak, who was now next to me in line. "he has taken the girl that you would not have," he continued, glancing at me. "that i would not have!" i cried. "what do you mean?" he looked at me closely for a moment. "i have doubted your story that you are from another world," he said at last, "but yet upon no other grounds could your ignorance of the ways of pellucidar be explained. do you really mean that you do not know that you offended the beautiful one, and how?" "i do not know, ghak," i replied. "then shall i tell you. when a man of pellucidar intervenes between another man and the woman the other man would have, the woman belongs to the victor. dian the beautiful belongs to you. you should have claimed her or released her. had you taken her hand, it would have indicated your desire to make her your mate, and had you raised her hand above her head and then dropped it, it would have meant that you did not wish her for a mate and that you released her from all obligation to you. by doing neither you have put upon her the greatest affront that a man may put upon a woman. now she is your slave. no man will take her as mate, or may take her honorably, until he shall have overcome you in combat, and men do not choose slave women as their mates--at least not the men of pellucidar." "i did not know, ghak," i cried. "i did not know. not for all pellucidar would i have harmed dian the beautiful by word, or look, or act of mine. i do not want her as my slave. i do not want her as my--" but here i stopped. the vision of that sweet and innocent face floated before me amidst the soft mists of imagination, and where i had on the second believed that i clung only to the memory of a gentle friendship i had lost, yet now it seemed that it would have been disloyalty to her to have said that i did not want dian the beautiful as my mate. i had not thought of her except as a welcome friend in a strange, cruel world. even now i did not think that i loved her. i believe ghak must have read the truth more in my expression than in my words, for presently he laid his hand upon my shoulder. "man of another world," he said, "i believe you. lips may lie, but when the heart speaks through the eyes it tells only the truth. your heart has spoken to me. i know now that you meant no affront to dian the beautiful. she is not of my tribe; but her mother is my sister. she does not know it--her mother was stolen by dian's father who came with many others of the tribe of amoz to battle with us for our women--the most beautiful women of pellucidar. then was her father king of amoz, and her mother was daughter of the king of sari--to whose power i, his son, have succeeded. dian is the daughter of kings, though her father is no longer king since the sadok tossed him and jubal the ugly one wrested his kingship from him. because of her lineage the wrong you did her was greatly magnified in the eyes of all who saw it. she will never forgive you." i asked ghak if there was not some way in which i could release the girl from the bondage and ignominy i had unwittingly placed upon her. "if ever you find her, yes," he answered. "merely to raise her hand above her head and drop it in the presence of others is sufficient to release her; but how may you ever find her, you who are doomed to a life of slavery yourself in the buried city of phutra?" "is there no escape?" i asked. "hooja the sly one escaped and took the others with him," replied ghak. "but there are no more dark places on the way to phutra, and once there it is not so easy--the mahars are very wise. even if one escaped from phutra there are the thipdars--they would find you, and then--" the hairy one shuddered. "no, you will never escape the mahars." it was a cheerful prospect. i asked perry what he thought about it; but he only shrugged his shoulders and continued a longwinded prayer he had been at for some time. he was wont to say that the only redeeming feature of our captivity was the ample time it gave him for the improvisation of prayers--it was becoming an obsession with him. the sagoths had begun to take notice of his habit of declaiming throughout entire marches. one of them asked him what he was saying--to whom he was talking. the question gave me an idea, so i answered quickly before perry could say anything. "do not interrupt him," i said. "he is a very holy man in the world from which we come. he is speaking to spirits which you cannot see--do not interrupt him or they will spring out of the air upon you and rend you limb from limb--like that," and i jumped toward the great brute with a loud "boo!" that sent him stumbling backward. i took a long chance, i realized, but if we could make any capital out of perry's harmless mania i wanted to make it while the making was prime. it worked splendidly. the sagoths treated us both with marked respect during the balance of the journey, and then passed the word along to their masters, the mahars. two marches after this episode we came to the city of phutra. the entrance to it was marked by two lofty towers of granite, which guarded a flight of steps leading to the buried city. sagoths were on guard here as well as at a hundred or more other towers scattered about over a large plain. v slaves as we descended the broad staircase which led to the main avenue of phutra i caught my first sight of the dominant race of the inner world. involuntarily i shrank back as one of the creatures approached to inspect us. a more hideous thing it would be impossible to imagine. the all-powerful mahars of pellucidar are great reptiles, some six or eight feet in length, with long narrow heads and great round eyes. their beak-like mouths are lined with sharp, white fangs, and the backs of their huge, lizard bodies are serrated into bony ridges from their necks to the end of their long tails. their feet are equipped with three webbed toes, while from the fore feet membranous wings, which are attached to their bodies just in front of the hind legs, protrude at an angle of degrees toward the rear, ending in sharp points several feet above their bodies. i glanced at perry as the thing passed me to inspect him. the old man was gazing at the horrid creature with wide astonished eyes. when it passed on, he turned to me. "a rhamphorhynchus of the middle olitic, david," he said, "but, gad, how enormous! the largest remains we ever have discovered have never indicated a size greater than that attained by an ordinary crow." as we continued on through the main avenue of phutra we saw many thousand of the creatures coming and going upon their daily duties. they paid but little attention to us. phutra is laid out underground with a regularity that indicates remarkable engineering skill. it is hewn from solid limestone strata. the streets are broad and of a uniform height of twenty feet. at intervals tubes pierce the roof of this underground city, and by means of lenses and reflectors transmit the sunlight, softened and diffused, to dispel what would otherwise be cimmerian darkness. in like manner air is introduced. perry and i were taken, with ghak, to a large public building, where one of the sagoths who had formed our guard explained to a maharan official the circumstances surrounding our capture. the method of communication between these two was remarkable in that no spoken words were exchanged. they employed a species of sign language. as i was to learn later, the mahars have no ears, nor any spoken language. among themselves they communicate by means of what perry says must be a sixth sense which is cognizant of a fourth dimension. i never did quite grasp him, though he endeavored to explain it to me upon numerous occasions. i suggested telepathy, but he said no, that it was not telepathy since they could only communicate when in each others' presence, nor could they talk with the sagoths or the other inhabitants of pellucidar by the same method they used to converse with one another. "what they do," said perry, "is to project their thoughts into the fourth dimension, when they become appreciable to the sixth sense of their listener. do i make myself quite clear?" "you do not, perry," i replied. he shook his head in despair, and returned to his work. they had set us to carrying a great accumulation of maharan literature from one apartment to another, and there arranging it upon shelves. i suggested to perry that we were in the public library of phutra, but later, as he commenced to discover the key to their written language, he assured me that we were handling the ancient archives of the race. during this period my thoughts were continually upon dian the beautiful. i was, of course, glad that she had escaped the mahars, and the fate that had been suggested by the sagoth who had threatened to purchase her upon our arrival at phutra. i often wondered if the little party of fugitives had been overtaken by the guards who had returned to search for them. sometimes i was not so sure but that i should have been more contented to know that dian was here in phutra, than to think of her at the mercy of hooja the sly one. ghak, perry, and i often talked together of possible escape, but the sarian was so steeped in his lifelong belief that no one could escape from the mahars except by a miracle, that he was not much aid to us--his attitude was of one who waits for the miracle to come to him. at my suggestion perry and i fashioned some swords of scraps of iron which we discovered among some rubbish in the cells where we slept, for we were permitted almost unrestrained freedom of action within the limits of the building to which we had been assigned. so great were the number of slaves who waited upon the inhabitants of phutra that none of us was apt to be overburdened with work, nor were our masters unkind to us. we hid our new weapons beneath the skins which formed our beds, and then perry conceived the idea of making bows and arrows--weapons apparently unknown within pellucidar. next came shields; but these i found it easier to steal from the walls of the outer guardroom of the building. we had completed these arrangements for our protection after leaving phutra when the sagoths who had been sent to recapture the escaped prisoners returned with four of them, of whom hooja was one. dian and two others had eluded them. it so happened that hooja was confined in the same building with us. he told ghak that he had not seen dian or the others after releasing them within the dark grotto. what had become of them he had not the faintest conception--they might be wandering yet, lost within the labyrinthine tunnel, if not dead from starvation. i was now still further apprehensive as to the fate of dian, and at this time, i imagine, came the first realization that my affection for the girl might be prompted by more than friendship. during my waking hours she was constantly the subject of my thoughts, and when i slept her dear face haunted my dreams. more than ever was i determined to escape the mahars. "perry," i confided to the old man, "if i have to search every inch of this diminutive world i am going to find dian the beautiful and right the wrong i unintentionally did her." that was the excuse i made for perry's benefit. "diminutive world!" he scoffed. "you don't know what you are talking about, my boy," and then he showed me a map of pellucidar which he had recently discovered among the manuscript he was arranging. "look," he cried, pointing to it, "this is evidently water, and all this land. do you notice the general configuration of the two areas? where the oceans are upon the outer crust, is land here. these relatively small areas of ocean follow the general lines of the continents of the outer world. "we know that the crust of the globe is miles in thickness; then the inside diameter of pellucidar must be , miles, and the superficial area , , square miles. three-fourths of this is land. think of it! a land area of , , square miles! our own world contains but , , square miles of land, the balance of its surface being covered by water. just as we often compare nations by their relative land areas, so if we compare these two worlds in the same way we have the strange anomaly of a larger world within a smaller one! "where within vast pellucidar would you search for your dian? without stars, or moon, or changing sun how could you find her even though you knew where she might be found?" the proposition was a corker. it quite took my breath away; but i found that it left me all the more determined to attempt it. "if ghak will accompany us we may be able to do it," i suggested. perry and i sought him out and put the question straight to him. "ghak," i said, "we are determined to escape from this bondage. will you accompany us?" "they will set the thipdars upon us," he said, "and then we shall be killed; but--" he hesitated--"i would take the chance if i thought that i might possibly escape and return to my own people." "could you find your way back to your own land?" asked perry. "and could you aid david in his search for dian?" "yes." "but how," persisted perry, "could you travel to strange country without heavenly bodies or a compass to guide you?" ghak didn't know what perry meant by heavenly bodies or a compass, but he assured us that you might blindfold any man of pellucidar and carry him to the farthermost corner of the world, yet he would be able to come directly to his own home again by the shortest route. he seemed surprised to think that we found anything wonderful in it. perry said it must be some sort of homing instinct such as is possessed by certain breeds of earthly pigeons. i didn't know, of course, but it gave me an idea. "then dian could have found her way directly to her own people?" i asked. "surely," replied ghak, "unless some mighty beast of prey killed her." i was for making the attempted escape at once, but both perry and ghak counseled waiting for some propitious accident which would insure us some small degree of success. i didn't see what accident could befall a whole community in a land of perpetual day-light where the inhabitants had no fixed habits of sleep. why, i am sure that some of the mahars never sleep, while others may, at long intervals, crawl into the dark recesses beneath their dwellings and curl up in protracted slumber. perry says that if a mahar stays awake for three years he will make up all his lost sleep in a long year's snooze. that may be all true, but i never saw but three of them asleep, and it was the sight of these three that gave me a suggestion for our means of escape. i had been searching about far below the levels that we slaves were supposed to frequent--possibly fifty feet beneath the main floor of the building--among a network of corridors and apartments, when i came suddenly upon three mahars curled up upon a bed of skins. at first i thought they were dead, but later their regular breathing convinced me of my error. like a flash the thought came to me of the marvelous opportunity these sleeping reptiles offered as a means of eluding the watchfulness of our captors and the sagoth guards. hastening back to perry where he pored over a musty pile of, to me, meaningless hieroglyphics, i explained my plan to him. to my surprise he was horrified. "it would be murder, david," he cried. "murder to kill a reptilian monster?" i asked in astonishment. "here they are not monsters, david," he replied. "here they are the dominant race--we are the 'monsters'--the lower orders. in pellucidar evolution has progressed along different lines than upon the outer earth. these terrible convulsions of nature time and time again wiped out the existing species--but for this fact some monster of the saurozoic epoch might rule today upon our own world. we see here what might well have occurred in our own history had conditions been what they have been here. "life within pellucidar is far younger than upon the outer crust. here man has but reached a stage analogous to the stone age of our own world's history, but for countless millions of years these reptiles have been progressing. possibly it is the sixth sense which i am sure they possess that has given them an advantage over the other and more frightfully armed of their fellows; but this we may never know. they look upon us as we look upon the beasts of our fields, and i learn from their written records that other races of mahars feed upon men--they keep them in great droves, as we keep cattle. they breed them most carefully, and when they are quite fat, they kill and eat them." i shuddered. "what is there horrible about it, david?" the old man asked. "they understand us no better than we understand the lower animals of our own world. why, i have come across here very learned discussions of the question as to whether gilaks, that is men, have any means of communication. one writer claims that we do not even reason--that our every act is mechanical, or instinctive. the dominant race of pellucidar, david, have not yet learned that men converse among themselves, or reason. because we do not converse as they do it is beyond them to imagine that we converse at all. it is thus that we reason in relation to the brutes of our own world. they know that the sagoths have a spoken language, but they cannot comprehend it, or how it manifests itself, since they have no auditory apparatus. they believe that the motions of the lips alone convey the meaning. that the sagoths can communicate with us is incomprehensible to them. "yes, david," he concluded, "it would entail murder to carry out your plan." "very well then, perry." i replied. "i shall become a murderer." he got me to go over the plan again most carefully, and for some reason which was not at the time clear to me insisted upon a very careful description of the apartments and corridors i had just explored. "i wonder, david," he said at length, "as you are determined to carry out your wild scheme, if we could not accomplish something of very real and lasting benefit for the human race of pellucidar at the same time. listen, i have learned much of a most surprising nature from these archives of the mahars. that you may appreciate my plan i shall briefly outline the history of the race. "once the males were all-powerful, but ages ago the females, little by little, assumed the mastery. for other ages no noticeable change took place in the race of mahars. it continued to progress under the intelligent and beneficent rule of the ladies. science took vast strides. this was especially true of the sciences which we know as biology and eugenics. finally a certain female scientist announced the fact that she had discovered a method whereby eggs might be fertilized by chemical means after they were laid--all true reptiles, you know, are hatched from eggs. "what happened? immediately the necessity for males ceased to exist--the race was no longer dependent upon them. more ages elapsed until at the present time we find a race consisting exclusively of females. but here is the point. the secret of this chemical formula is kept by a single race of mahars. it is in the city of phutra, and unless i am greatly in error i judge from your description of the vaults through which you passed today that it lies hidden in the cellar of this building. "for two reasons they hide it away and guard it jealously. first, because upon it depends the very life of the race of mahars, and second, owing to the fact that when it was public property as at first so many were experimenting with it that the danger of over-population became very grave. "david, if we can escape, and at the same time take with us this great secret what will we not have accomplished for the human race within pellucidar!" the very thought of it fairly overpowered me. why, we two would be the means of placing the men of the inner world in their rightful place among created things. only the sagoths would then stand between them and absolute supremacy, and i was not quite sure but that the sagoths owed all their power to the greater intelligence of the mahars--i could not believe that these gorilla-like beasts were the mental superiors of the human race of pellucidar. "why, perry," i exclaimed, "you and i may reclaim a whole world! together we can lead the races of men out of the darkness of ignorance into the light of advancement and civilization. at one step we may carry them from the age of stone to the twentieth century. it's marvelous--absolutely marvelous just to think about it." "david," said the old man, "i believe that god sent us here for just that purpose--it shall be my life work to teach them his word--to lead them into the light of his mercy while we are training their hearts and hands in the ways of culture and civilization." "you are right, perry," i said, "and while you are teaching them to pray i'll be teaching them to fight, and between us we'll make a race of men that will be an honor to us both." ghak had entered the apartment some time before we concluded our conversation, and now he wanted to know what we were so excited about. perry thought we had best not tell him too much, and so i only explained that i had a plan for escape. when i had outlined it to him, he seemed about as horror-struck as perry had been; but for a different reason. the hairy one only considered the horrible fate that would be ours were we discovered; but at last i prevailed upon him to accept my plan as the only feasible one, and when i had assured him that i would take all the responsibility for it were we captured, he accorded a reluctant assent. vi the beginning of horror within pellucidar one time is as good as another. there were no nights to mask our attempted escape. all must be done in broad day-light--all but the work i had to do in the apartment beneath the building. so we determined to put our plan to an immediate test lest the mahars who made it possible should awake before i reached them; but we were doomed to disappointment, for no sooner had we reached the main floor of the building on our way to the pits beneath, than we encountered hurrying bands of slaves being hastened under strong sagoth guard out of the edifice to the avenue beyond. other sagoths were darting hither and thither in search of other slaves, and the moment that we appeared we were pounced upon and hustled into the line of marching humans. what the purpose or nature of the general exodus we did not know, but presently through the line of captives ran the rumor that two escaped slaves had been recaptured--a man and a woman--and that we were marching to witness their punishment, for the man had killed a sagoth of the detachment that had pursued and overtaken them. at the intelligence my heart sprang to my throat, for i was sure that the two were of those who escaped in the dark grotto with hooja the sly one, and that dian must be the woman. ghak thought so too, as did perry. "is there naught that we may do to save her?" i asked ghak. "naught," he replied. along the crowded avenue we marched, the guards showing unusual cruelty toward us, as though we, too, had been implicated in the murder of their fellow. the occasion was to serve as an object-lesson to all other slaves of the danger and futility of attempted escape, and the fatal consequences of taking the life of a superior being, and so i imagine that sagoths felt amply justified in making the entire proceeding as uncomfortable and painful to us as possible. they jabbed us with their spears and struck at us with the hatchets at the least provocation, and at no provocation at all. it was a most uncomfortable half-hour that we spent before we were finally herded through a low entrance into a huge building the center of which was given up to a good-sized arena. benches surrounded this open space upon three sides, and along the fourth were heaped huge bowlders which rose in receding tiers toward the roof. at first i couldn't make out the purpose of this mighty pile of rock, unless it were intended as a rough and picturesque background for the scenes which were enacted in the arena before it, but presently, after the wooden benches had been pretty well filled by slaves and sagoths, i discovered the purpose of the bowlders, for then the mahars began to file into the enclosure. they marched directly across the arena toward the rocks upon the opposite side, where, spreading their bat-like wings, they rose above the high wall of the pit, settling down upon the bowlders above. these were the reserved seats, the boxes of the elect. reptiles that they are, the rough surface of a great stone is to them as plush as upholstery to us. here they lolled, blinking their hideous eyes, and doubtless conversing with one another in their sixth-sense-fourth-dimension language. for the first time i beheld their queen. she differed from the others in no feature that was appreciable to my earthly eyes, in fact all mahars look alike to me: but when she crossed the arena after the balance of her female subjects had found their bowlders, she was preceded by a score of huge sagoths, the largest i ever had seen, and on either side of her waddled a huge thipdar, while behind came another score of sagoth guardsmen. at the barrier the sagoths clambered up the steep side with truly apelike agility, while behind them the haughty queen rose upon her wings with her two frightful dragons close beside her, and settled down upon the largest bowlder of them all in the exact center of that side of the amphitheater which is reserved for the dominant race. here she squatted, a most repulsive and uninteresting queen; though doubtless quite as well assured of her beauty and divine right to rule as the proudest monarch of the outer world. and then the music started--music without sound! the mahars cannot hear, so the drums and fifes and horns of earthly bands are unknown among them. the "band" consists of a score or more mahars. it filed out in the center of the arena where the creatures upon the rocks might see it, and there it performed for fifteen or twenty minutes. their technic consisted in waving their tails and moving their heads in a regular succession of measured movements resulting in a cadence which evidently pleased the eye of the mahar as the cadence of our own instrumental music pleases our ears. sometimes the band took measured steps in unison to one side or the other, or backward and again forward--it all seemed very silly and meaningless to me, but at the end of the first piece the mahars upon the rocks showed the first indications of enthusiasm that i had seen displayed by the dominant race of pellucidar. they beat their great wings up and down, and smote their rocky perches with their mighty tails until the ground shook. then the band started another piece, and all was again as silent as the grave. that was one great beauty about mahar music--if you didn't happen to like a piece that was being played all you had to do was shut your eyes. when the band had exhausted its repertory it took wing and settled upon the rocks above and behind the queen. then the business of the day was on. a man and woman were pushed into the arena by a couple of sagoth guardsmen. i leaned forward in my seat to scrutinize the female--hoping against hope that she might prove to be another than dian the beautiful. her back was toward me for a while, and the sight of the great mass of raven hair piled high upon her head filled me with alarm. presently a door in one side of the arena wall was opened to admit a huge, shaggy, bull-like creature. "a bos," whispered perry, excitedly. "his kind roamed the outer crust with the cave bear and the mammoth ages and ages ago. we have been carried back a million years, david, to the childhood of a planet--is it not wondrous?" but i saw only the raven hair of a half-naked girl, and my heart stood still in dumb misery at the sight of her, nor had i any eyes for the wonders of natural history. but for perry and ghak i should have leaped to the floor of the arena and shared whatever fate lay in store for this priceless treasure of the stone age. with the advent of the bos--they call the thing a thag within pellucidar--two spears were tossed into the arena at the feet of the prisoners. it seemed to me that a bean shooter would have been as effective against the mighty monster as these pitiful weapons. as the animal approached the two, bellowing and pawing the ground with the strength of many earthly bulls, another door directly beneath us was opened, and from it issued the most terrific roar that ever had fallen upon my outraged ears. i could not at first see the beast from which emanated this fearsome challenge, but the sound had the effect of bringing the two victims around with a sudden start, and then i saw the girl's face--she was not dian! i could have wept for relief. and now, as the two stood frozen in terror, i saw the author of that fearsome sound creeping stealthily into view. it was a huge tiger--such as hunted the great bos through the jungles primeval when the world was young. in contour and markings it was not unlike the noblest of the bengals of our own world, but as its dimensions were exaggerated to colossal proportions so too were its colorings exaggerated. its vivid yellows fairly screamed aloud; its whites were as eider down; its blacks glossy as the finest anthracite coal, and its coat long and shaggy as a mountain goat. that it is a beautiful animal there is no gainsaying, but if its size and colors are magnified here within pellucidar, so is the ferocity of its disposition. it is not the occasional member of its species that is a man hunter--all are man hunters; but they do not confine their foraging to man alone, for there is no flesh or fish within pellucidar that they will not eat with relish in the constant efforts which they make to furnish their huge carcasses with sufficient sustenance to maintain their mighty thews. upon one side of the doomed pair the thag bellowed and advanced, and upon the other tarag, the frightful, crept toward them with gaping mouth and dripping fangs. the man seized the spears, handing one of them to the woman. at the sound of the roaring of the tiger the bull's bellowing became a veritable frenzy of rageful noise. never in my life had i heard such an infernal din as the two brutes made, and to think it was all lost upon the hideous reptiles for whom the show was staged! the thag was charging now from one side, and the tarag from the other. the two puny things standing between them seemed already lost, but at the very moment that the beasts were upon them the man grasped his companion by the arm and together they leaped to one side, while the frenzied creatures came together like locomotives in collision. there ensued a battle royal which for sustained and frightful ferocity transcends the power of imagination or description. time and again the colossal bull tossed the enormous tiger high into the air, but each time that the huge cat touched the ground he returned to the encounter with apparently undiminished strength, and seemingly increased ire. for a while the man and woman busied themselves only with keeping out of the way of the two creatures, but finally i saw them separate and each creep stealthily toward one of the combatants. the tiger was now upon the bull's broad back, clinging to the huge neck with powerful fangs while its long, strong talons ripped the heavy hide into shreds and ribbons. for a moment the bull stood bellowing and quivering with pain and rage, its cloven hoofs widespread, its tail lashing viciously from side to side, and then, in a mad orgy of bucking it went careening about the arena in frenzied attempt to unseat its rending rider. it was with difficulty that the girl avoided the first mad rush of the wounded animal. all its efforts to rid itself of the tiger seemed futile, until in desperation it threw itself upon the ground, rolling over and over. a little of this so disconcerted the tiger, knocking its breath from it i imagine, that it lost its hold and then, quick as a cat, the great thag was up again and had buried those mighty horns deep in the tarag's abdomen, pinning him to the floor of the arena. the great cat clawed at the shaggy head until eyes and ears were gone, and naught but a few strips of ragged, bloody flesh remained upon the skull. yet through all the agony of that fearful punishment the thag still stood motionless pinning down his adversary, and then the man leaped in, seeing that the blind bull would be the least formidable enemy, and ran his spear through the tarag's heart. as the animal's fierce clawing ceased, the bull raised his gory, sightless head, and with a horrid roar ran headlong across the arena. with great leaps and bounds he came, straight toward the arena wall directly beneath where we sat, and then accident carried him, in one of his mighty springs, completely over the barrier into the midst of the slaves and sagoths just in front of us. swinging his bloody horns from side to side the beast cut a wide swath before him straight upward toward our seats. before him slaves and gorilla-men fought in mad stampede to escape the menace of the creature's death agonies, for such only could that frightful charge have been. forgetful of us, our guards joined in the general rush for the exits, many of which pierced the wall of the amphitheater behind us. perry, ghak, and i became separated in the chaos which reigned for a few moments after the beast cleared the wall of the arena, each intent upon saving his own hide. i ran to the right, passing several exits choked with the fear mad mob that were battling to escape. one would have thought that an entire herd of thags was loose behind them, rather than a single blinded, dying beast; but such is the effect of panic upon a crowd. vii freedom once out of the direct path of the animal, fear of it left me, but another emotion as quickly gripped me--hope of escape that the demoralized condition of the guards made possible for the instant. i thought of perry, but for the hope that i might better encompass his release if myself free i should have put the thought of freedom from me at once. as it was i hastened on toward the right searching for an exit toward which no sagoths were fleeing, and at last i found it--a low, narrow aperture leading into a dark corridor. without thought of the possible consequence, i darted into the shadows of the tunnel, feeling my way along through the gloom for some distance. the noises of the amphitheater had grown fainter and fainter until now all was as silent as the tomb about me. faint light filtered from above through occasional ventilating and lighting tubes, but it was scarce sufficient to enable my human eyes to cope with the darkness, and so i was forced to move with extreme care, feeling my way along step by step with a hand upon the wall beside me. presently the light increased and a moment later, to my delight, i came upon a flight of steps leading upward, at the top of which the brilliant light of the noonday sun shone through an opening in the ground. cautiously i crept up the stairway to the tunnel's end, and peering out saw the broad plain of phutra before me. the numerous lofty, granite towers which mark the several entrances to the subterranean city were all in front of me--behind, the plain stretched level and unbroken to the nearby foothills. i had come to the surface, then, beyond the city, and my chances for escape seemed much enhanced. my first impulse was to await darkness before attempting to cross the plain, so deeply implanted are habits of thought; but of a sudden i recollected the perpetual noonday brilliance which envelopes pellucidar, and with a smile i stepped forth into the day-light. rank grass, waist high, grows upon the plain of phutra--the gorgeous flowering grass of the inner world, each particular blade of which is tipped with a tiny, five-pointed blossom--brilliant little stars of varying colors that twinkle in the green foliage to add still another charm to the weird, yet lovely, landscape. but then the only aspect which attracted me was the distant hills in which i hoped to find sanctuary, and so i hastened on, trampling the myriad beauties beneath my hurrying feet. perry says that the force of gravity is less upon the surface of the inner world than upon that of the outer. he explained it all to me once, but i was never particularly brilliant in such matters and so most of it has escaped me. as i recall it the difference is due in some part to the counter-attraction of that portion of the earth's crust directly opposite the spot upon the face of pellucidar at which one's calculations are being made. be that as it may, it always seemed to me that i moved with greater speed and agility within pellucidar than upon the outer surface--there was a certain airy lightness of step that was most pleasing, and a feeling of bodily detachment which i can only compare with that occasionally experienced in dreams. and as i crossed phutra's flower-bespangled plain that time i seemed almost to fly, though how much of the sensation was due to perry's suggestion and how much to actuality i am sure i do not know. the more i thought of perry the less pleasure i took in my new-found freedom. there could be no liberty for me within pellucidar unless the old man shared it with me, and only the hope that i might find some way to encompass his release kept me from turning back to phutra. just how i was to help perry i could scarce imagine, but i hoped that some fortuitous circumstance might solve the problem for me. it was quite evident however that little less than a miracle could aid me, for what could i accomplish in this strange world, naked and unarmed? it was even doubtful that i could retrace my steps to phutra should i once pass beyond view of the plain, and even were that possible, what aid could i bring to perry no matter how far i wandered? the case looked more and more hopeless the longer i viewed it, yet with a stubborn persistency i forged ahead toward the foothills. behind me no sign of pursuit developed, before me i saw no living thing. it was as though i moved through a dead and forgotten world. i have no idea, of course, how long it took me to reach the limit of the plain, but at last i entered the foothills, following a pretty little canyon upward toward the mountains. beside me frolicked a laughing brooklet, hurrying upon its noisy way down to the silent sea. in its quieter pools i discovered many small fish, of four-or five-pound weight i should imagine. in appearance, except as to size and color, they were not unlike the whale of our own seas. as i watched them playing about i discovered, not only that they suckled their young, but that at intervals they rose to the surface to breathe as well as to feed upon certain grasses and a strange, scarlet lichen which grew upon the rocks just above the water line. it was this last habit that gave me the opportunity i craved to capture one of these herbivorous cetaceans--that is what perry calls them--and make as good a meal as one can on raw, warm-blooded fish; but i had become rather used, by this time, to the eating of food in its natural state, though i still balked on the eyes and entrails, much to the amusement of ghak, to whom i always passed these delicacies. crouching beside the brook, i waited until one of the diminutive purple whales rose to nibble at the long grasses which overhung the water, and then, like the beast of prey that man really is, i sprang upon my victim, appeasing my hunger while he yet wriggled to escape. then i drank from the clear pool, and after washing my hands and face continued my flight. above the source of the brook i encountered a rugged climb to the summit of a long ridge. beyond was a steep declivity to the shore of a placid, inland sea, upon the quiet surface of which lay several beautiful islands. the view was charming in the extreme, and as no man or beast was to be seen that might threaten my new-found liberty, i slid over the edge of the bluff, and half sliding, half falling, dropped into the delightful valley, the very aspect of which seemed to offer a haven of peace and security. the gently sloping beach along which i walked was thickly strewn with strangely shaped, colored shells; some empty, others still housing as varied a multitude of mollusks as ever might have drawn out their sluggish lives along the silent shores of the antediluvian seas of the outer crust. as i walked i could not but compare myself with the first man of that other world, so complete the solitude which surrounded me, so primal and untouched the virgin wonders and beauties of adolescent nature. i felt myself a second adam wending my lonely way through the childhood of a world, searching for my eve, and at the thought there rose before my mind's eye the exquisite outlines of a perfect face surmounted by a loose pile of wondrous, raven hair. as i walked, my eyes were bent upon the beach so that it was not until i had come quite upon it that i discovered that which shattered all my beautiful dream of solitude and safety and peace and primal overlordship. the thing was a hollowed log drawn upon the sands, and in the bottom of it lay a crude paddle. the rude shock of awakening to what doubtless might prove some new form of danger was still upon me when i heard a rattling of loose stones from the direction of the bluff, and turning my eyes in that direction i beheld the author of the disturbance, a great copper-colored man, running rapidly toward me. there was that in the haste with which he came which seemed quite sufficiently menacing, so that i did not need the added evidence of brandishing spear and scowling face to warn me that i was in no safe position, but whither to flee was indeed a momentous question. the speed of the fellow seemed to preclude the possibility of escaping him upon the open beach. there was but a single alternative--the rude skiff--and with a celerity which equaled his, i pushed the thing into the sea and as it floated gave a final shove and clambered in over the end. a cry of rage rose from the owner of the primitive craft, and an instant later his heavy, stone-tipped spear grazed my shoulder and buried itself in the bow of the boat beyond. then i grasped the paddle, and with feverish haste urged the awkward, wobbly thing out upon the surface of the sea. a glance over my shoulder showed me that the copper-colored one had plunged in after me and was swimming rapidly in pursuit. his mighty strokes bade fair to close up the distance between us in short order, for at best i could make but slow progress with my unfamiliar craft, which nosed stubbornly in every direction but that which i desired to follow, so that fully half my energy was expended in turning its blunt prow back into the course. i had covered some hundred yards from shore when it became evident that my pursuer must grasp the stern of the skiff within the next half-dozen strokes. in a frenzy of despair, i bent to the grandfather of all paddles in a hopeless effort to escape, and still the copper giant behind me gained and gained. his hand was reaching upward for the stern when i saw a sleek, sinuous body shoot from the depths below. the man saw it too, and the look of terror that overspread his face assured me that i need have no further concern as to him, for the fear of certain death was in his look. and then about him coiled the great, slimy folds of a hideous monster of that prehistoric deep--a mighty serpent of the sea, with fanged jaws, and darting forked tongue, with bulging eyes, and bony protuberances upon head and snout that formed short, stout horns. as i looked at that hopeless struggle my eyes met those of the doomed man, and i could have sworn that in his i saw an expression of hopeless appeal. but whether i did or not there swept through me a sudden compassion for the fellow. he was indeed a brother-man, and that he might have killed me with pleasure had he caught me was forgotten in the extremity of his danger. unconsciously i had ceased paddling as the serpent rose to engage my pursuer, so now the skiff still drifted close beside the two. the monster seemed to be but playing with his victim before he closed his awful jaws upon him and dragged him down to his dark den beneath the surface to devour him. the huge, snakelike body coiled and uncoiled about its prey. the hideous, gaping jaws snapped in the victim's face. the forked tongue, lightning-like, ran in and out upon the copper skin. nobly the giant battled for his life, beating with his stone hatchet against the bony armor that covered that frightful carcass; but for all the damage he inflicted he might as well have struck with his open palm. at last i could endure no longer to sit supinely by while a fellowman was dragged down to a horrible death by that repulsive reptile. embedded in the prow of the skiff lay the spear that had been cast after me by him whom i suddenly desired to save. with a wrench i tore it loose, and standing upright in the wobbly log drove it with all the strength of my two arms straight into the gaping jaws of the hydrophidian. with a loud hiss the creature abandoned its prey to turn upon me, but the spear, imbedded in its throat, prevented it from seizing me though it came near to overturning the skiff in its mad efforts to reach me. viii the mahar temple the aborigine, apparently uninjured, climbed quickly into the skiff, and seizing the spear with me helped to hold off the infuriated creature. blood from the wounded reptile was now crimsoning the waters about us and soon from the weakening struggles it became evident that i had inflicted a death wound upon it. presently its efforts to reach us ceased entirely, and with a few convulsive movements it turned upon its back quite dead. and then there came to me a sudden realization of the predicament in which i had placed myself. i was entirely within the power of the savage man whose skiff i had stolen. still clinging to the spear i looked into his face to find him scrutinizing me intently, and there we stood for some several minutes, each clinging tenaciously to the weapon the while we gazed in stupid wonderment at each other. what was in his mind i do not know, but in my own was merely the question as to how soon the fellow would recommence hostilities. presently he spoke to me, but in a tongue which i was unable to translate. i shook my head in an effort to indicate my ignorance of his language, at the same time addressing him in the bastard tongue that the sagoths use to converse with the human slaves of the mahars. to my delight he understood and answered me in the same jargon. "what do you want of my spear?" he asked. "only to keep you from running it through me," i replied. "i would not do that," he said, "for you have just saved my life," and with that he released his hold upon it and squatted down in the bottom of the skiff. "who are you," he continued, "and from what country do you come?" i too sat down, laying the spear between us, and tried to explain how i came to pellucidar, and wherefrom, but it was as impossible for him to grasp or believe the strange tale i told him as i fear it is for you upon the outer crust to believe in the existence of the inner world. to him it seemed quite ridiculous to imagine that there was another world far beneath his feet peopled by beings similar to himself, and he laughed uproariously the more he thought upon it. but it was ever thus. that which has never come within the scope of our really pitifully meager world-experience cannot be--our finite minds cannot grasp that which may not exist in accordance with the conditions which obtain about us upon the outside of the insignificant grain of dust which wends its tiny way among the bowlders of the universe--the speck of moist dirt we so proudly call the world. so i gave it up and asked him about himself. he said he was a mezop, and that his name was ja. "who are the mezops?" i asked. "where do they live?" he looked at me in surprise. "i might indeed believe that you were from another world," he said, "for who of pellucidar could be so ignorant! the mezops live upon the islands of the seas. in so far as i ever have heard no mezop lives elsewhere, and no others than mezops dwell upon islands, but of course it may be different in other far-distant lands. i do not know. at any rate in this sea and those near by it is true that only people of my race inhabit the islands. "we are fishermen, though we be great hunters as well, often going to the mainland in search of the game that is scarce upon all but the larger islands. and we are warriors also," he added proudly. "even the sagoths of the mahars fear us. once, when pellucidar was young, the sagoths were wont to capture us for slaves as they do the other men of pellucidar, it is handed down from father to son among us that this is so; but we fought so desperately and slew so many sagoths, and those of us that were captured killed so many mahars in their own cities that at last they learned that it were better to leave us alone, and later came the time that the mahars became too indolent even to catch their own fish, except for amusement, and then they needed us to supply their wants, and so a truce was made between the races. now they give us certain things which we are unable to produce in return for the fish that we catch, and the mezops and the mahars live in peace. "the great ones even come to our islands. it is there, far from the prying eyes of their own sagoths, that they practice their religious rites in the temples they have builded there with our assistance. if you live among us you will doubtless see the manner of their worship, which is strange indeed, and most unpleasant for the poor slaves they bring to take part in it." as ja talked i had an excellent opportunity to inspect him more closely. he was a huge fellow, standing i should say six feet six or seven inches, well developed and of a coppery red not unlike that of our own north american indian, nor were his features dissimilar to theirs. he had the aquiline nose found among many of the higher tribes, the prominent cheek bones, and black hair and eyes, but his mouth and lips were better molded. all in all, ja was an impressive and handsome creature, and he talked well too, even in the miserable makeshift language we were compelled to use. during our conversation ja had taken the paddle and was propelling the skiff with vigorous strokes toward a large island that lay some half-mile from the mainland. the skill with which he handled his crude and awkward craft elicited my deepest admiration, since it had been so short a time before that i had made such pitiful work of it. as we touched the pretty, level beach ja leaped out and i followed him. together we dragged the skiff far up into the bushes that grew beyond the sand. "we must hide our canoes," explained ja, "for the mezops of luana are always at war with us and would steal them if they found them," he nodded toward an island farther out at sea, and at so great a distance that it seemed but a blur hanging in the distant sky. the upward curve of the surface of pellucidar was constantly revealing the impossible to the surprised eyes of the outer-earthly. to see land and water curving upward in the distance until it seemed to stand on edge where it melted into the distant sky, and to feel that seas and mountains hung suspended directly above one's head required such a complete reversal of the perceptive and reasoning faculties as almost to stupefy one. no sooner had we hidden the canoe than ja plunged into the jungle, presently emerging into a narrow but well-defined trail which wound hither and thither much after the manner of the highways of all primitive folk, but there was one peculiarity about this mezop trail which i was later to find distinguished them from all other trails that i ever have seen within or without the earth. it would run on, plain and clear and well defined to end suddenly in the midst of a tangle of matted jungle, then ja would turn directly back in his tracks for a little distance, spring into a tree, climb through it to the other side, drop onto a fallen log, leap over a low bush and alight once more upon a distinct trail which he would follow back for a short distance only to turn directly about and retrace his steps until after a mile or less this new pathway ended as suddenly and mysteriously as the former section. then he would pass again across some media which would reveal no spoor, to take up the broken thread of the trail beyond. as the purpose of this remarkable avenue dawned upon me i could not but admire the native shrewdness of the ancient progenitor of the mezops who hit upon this novel plan to throw his enemies from his track and delay or thwart them in their attempts to follow him to his deep-buried cities. to you of the outer earth it might seem a slow and tortuous method of traveling through the jungle, but were you of pellucidar you would realize that time is no factor where time does not exist. so labyrinthine are the windings of these trails, so varied the connecting links and the distances which one must retrace one's steps from the paths' ends to find them that a mezop often reaches man's estate before he is familiar even with those which lead from his own city to the sea. in fact three-fourths of the education of the young male mezop consists in familiarizing himself with these jungle avenues, and the status of an adult is largely determined by the number of trails which he can follow upon his own island. the females never learn them, since from birth to death they never leave the clearing in which the village of their nativity is situated except they be taken to mate by a male from another village, or captured in war by the enemies of their tribe. after proceeding through the jungle for what must have been upward of five miles we emerged suddenly into a large clearing in the exact center of which stood as strange an appearing village as one might well imagine. large trees had been chopped down fifteen or twenty feet above the ground, and upon the tops of them spherical habitations of woven twigs, mud covered, had been built. each ball-like house was surmounted by some manner of carven image, which ja told me indicated the identity of the owner. horizontal slits, six inches high and two or three feet wide, served to admit light and ventilation. the entrances to the house were through small apertures in the bases of the trees and thence upward by rude ladders through the hollow trunks to the rooms above. the houses varied in size from two to several rooms. the largest that i entered was divided into two floors and eight apartments. all about the village, between it and the jungle, lay beautifully cultivated fields in which the mezops raised such cereals, fruits, and vegetables as they required. women and children were working in these gardens as we crossed toward the village. at sight of ja they saluted deferentially, but to me they paid not the slightest attention. among them and about the outer verge of the cultivated area were many warriors. these too saluted ja, by touching the points of their spears to the ground directly before them. ja conducted me to a large house in the center of the village--the house with eight rooms--and taking me up into it gave me food and drink. there i met his mate, a comely girl with a nursing baby in her arms. ja told her of how i had saved his life, and she was thereafter most kind and hospitable toward me, even permitting me to hold and amuse the tiny bundle of humanity whom ja told me would one day rule the tribe, for ja, it seemed, was the chief of the community. we had eaten and rested, and i had slept, much to ja's amusement, for it seemed that he seldom if ever did so, and then the red man proposed that i accompany him to the temple of the mahars which lay not far from his village. "we are not supposed to visit it," he said; "but the great ones cannot hear and if we keep well out of sight they need never know that we have been there. for my part i hate them and always have, but the other chieftains of the island think it best that we continue to maintain the amicable relations which exist between the two races; otherwise i should like nothing better than to lead my warriors amongst the hideous creatures and exterminate them--pellucidar would be a better place to live were there none of them." i wholly concurred in ja's belief, but it seemed that it might be a difficult matter to exterminate the dominant race of pellucidar. thus conversing we followed the intricate trail toward the temple, which we came upon in a small clearing surrounded by enormous trees similar to those which must have flourished upon the outer crust during the carboniferous age. here was a mighty temple of hewn rock built in the shape of a rough oval with rounded roof in which were several large openings. no doors or windows were visible in the sides of the structure, nor was there need of any, except one entrance for the slaves, since, as ja explained, the mahars flew to and from their place of ceremonial, entering and leaving the building by means of the apertures in the roof. "but," added ja, "there is an entrance near the base of which even the mahars know nothing. come," and he led me across the clearing and about the end to a pile of loose rock which lay against the foot of the wall. here he removed a couple of large bowlders, revealing a small opening which led straight within the building, or so it seemed, though as i entered after ja i discovered myself in a narrow place of extreme darkness. "we are within the outer wall," said ja. "it is hollow. follow me closely." the red man groped ahead a few paces and then began to ascend a primitive ladder similar to that which leads from the ground to the upper stories of his house. we ascended for some forty feet when the interior of the space between the walls commenced to grow lighter and presently we came opposite an opening in the inner wall which gave us an unobstructed view of the entire interior of the temple. the lower floor was an enormous tank of clear water in which numerous hideous mahars swam lazily up and down. artificial islands of granite rock dotted this artificial sea, and upon several of them i saw men and women like myself. "what are the human beings doing here?" i asked. "wait and you shall see," replied ja. "they are to take a leading part in the ceremonies which will follow the advent of the queen. you may be thankful that you are not upon the same side of the wall as they." scarcely had he spoken than we heard a great fluttering of wings above and a moment later a long procession of the frightful reptiles of pellucidar winged slowly and majestically through the large central opening in the roof and circled in stately manner about the temple. there were several mahars first, and then at least twenty awe-inspiring pterodactyls--thipdars, they are called within pellucidar. behind these came the queen, flanked by other thipdars as she had been when she entered the amphitheater at phutra. three times they wheeled about the interior of the oval chamber, to settle finally upon the damp, cold bowlders that fringe the outer edge of the pool. in the center of one side the largest rock was reserved for the queen, and here she took her place surrounded by her terrible guard. all lay quiet for several minutes after settling to their places. one might have imagined them in silent prayer. the poor slaves upon the diminutive islands watched the horrid creatures with wide eyes. the men, for the most part, stood erect and stately with folded arms, awaiting their doom; but the women and children clung to one another, hiding behind the males. they are a noble-looking race, these cave men of pellucidar, and if our progenitors were as they, the human race of the outer crust has deteriorated rather than improved with the march of the ages. all they lack is opportunity. we have opportunity, and little else. now the queen moved. she raised her ugly head, looking about; then very slowly she crawled to the edge of her throne and slid noiselessly into the water. up and down the long tank she swam, turning at the ends as you have seen captive seals turn in their tiny tanks, turning upon their backs and diving below the surface. nearer and nearer to the island she came until at last she remained at rest before the largest, which was directly opposite her throne. raising her hideous head from the water she fixed her great, round eyes upon the slaves. they were fat and sleek, for they had been brought from a distant mahar city where human beings are kept in droves, and bred and fattened, as we breed and fatten beef cattle. the queen fixed her gaze upon a plump young maiden. her victim tried to turn away, hiding her face in her hands and kneeling behind a woman; but the reptile, with unblinking eyes, stared on with such fixity that i could have sworn her vision penetrated the woman, and the girl's arms to reach at last the very center of her brain. slowly the reptile's head commenced to move to and fro, but the eyes never ceased to bore toward the frightened girl, and then the victim responded. she turned wide, fear-haunted eyes toward the mahar queen, slowly she rose to her feet, and then as though dragged by some unseen power she moved as one in a trance straight toward the reptile, her glassy eyes fixed upon those of her captor. to the water's edge she came, nor did she even pause, but stepped into the shallows beside the little island. on she moved toward the mahar, who now slowly retreated as though leading her victim on. the water rose to the girl's knees, and still she advanced, chained by that clammy eye. now the water was at her waist; now her armpits. her fellows upon the island looked on in horror, helpless to avert her doom in which they saw a forecast of their own. the mahar sank now till only the long upper bill and eyes were exposed above the surface of the water, and the girl had advanced until the end of that repulsive beak was but an inch or two from her face, her horror-filled eyes riveted upon those of the reptile. now the water passed above the girl's mouth and nose--her eyes and forehead all that showed--yet still she walked on after the retreating mahar. the queen's head slowly disappeared beneath the surface and after it went the eyes of her victim--only a slow ripple widened toward the shores to mark where the two vanished. for a time all was silence within the temple. the slaves were motionless in terror. the mahars watched the surface of the water for the reappearance of their queen, and presently at one end of the tank her head rose slowly into view. she was backing toward the surface, her eyes fixed before her as they had been when she dragged the helpless girl to her doom. and then to my utter amazement i saw the forehead and eyes of the maiden come slowly out of the depths, following the gaze of the reptile just as when she had disappeared beneath the surface. on and on came the girl until she stood in water that reached barely to her knees, and though she had been beneath the surface sufficient time to have drowned her thrice over there was no indication, other than her dripping hair and glistening body, that she had been submerged at all. again and again the queen led the girl into the depths and out again, until the uncanny weirdness of the thing got on my nerves so that i could have leaped into the tank to the child's rescue had i not taken a firm hold of myself. once they were below much longer than usual, and when they came to the surface i was horrified to see that one of the girl's arms was gone--gnawed completely off at the shoulder--but the poor thing gave no indication of realizing pain, only the horror in her set eyes seemed intensified. the next time they appeared the other arm was gone, and then the breasts, and then a part of the face--it was awful. the poor creatures on the islands awaiting their fate tried to cover their eyes with their hands to hide the fearful sight, but now i saw that they too were under the hypnotic spell of the reptiles, so that they could only crouch in terror with their eyes fixed upon the terrible thing that was transpiring before them. finally the queen was under much longer than ever before, and when she rose she came alone and swam sleepily toward her bowlder. the moment she mounted it seemed to be the signal for the other mahars to enter the tank, and then commenced, upon a larger scale, a repetition of the uncanny performance through which the queen had led her victim. only the women and children fell prey to the mahars--they being the weakest and most tender--and when they had satisfied their appetite for human flesh, some of them devouring two and three of the slaves, there were only a score of full-grown men left, and i thought that for some reason these were to be spared, but such was far from the case, for as the last mahar crawled to her rock the queen's thipdars darted into the air, circled the temple once and then, hissing like steam engines, swooped down upon the remaining slaves. there was no hypnotism here--just the plain, brutal ferocity of the beast of prey, tearing, rending, and gulping its meat, but at that it was less horrible than the uncanny method of the mahars. by the time the thipdars had disposed of the last of the slaves the mahars were all asleep upon their rocks, and a moment later the great pterodactyls swung back to their posts beside the queen, and themselves dropped into slumber. "i thought the mahars seldom, if ever, slept," i said to ja. "they do many things in this temple which they do not do elsewhere," he replied. "the mahars of phutra are not supposed to eat human flesh, yet slaves are brought here by thousands and almost always you will find mahars on hand to consume them. i imagine that they do not bring their sagoths here, because they are ashamed of the practice, which is supposed to obtain only among the least advanced of their race; but i would wager my canoe against a broken paddle that there is no mahar but eats human flesh whenever she can get it." "why should they object to eating human flesh," i asked, "if it is true that they look upon us as lower animals?" "it is not because they consider us their equals that they are supposed to look with abhorrence upon those who eat our flesh," replied ja; "it is merely that we are warm-blooded animals. they would not think of eating the meat of a thag, which we consider such a delicacy, any more than i would think of eating a snake. as a matter of fact it is difficult to explain just why this sentiment should exist among them." "i wonder if they left a single victim," i remarked, leaning far out of the opening in the rocky wall to inspect the temple better. directly below me the water lapped the very side of the wall, there being a break in the bowlders at this point as there was at several other places about the side of the temple. my hands were resting upon a small piece of granite which formed a part of the wall, and all my weight upon it proved too much for it. it slipped and i lunged forward. there was nothing to save myself and i plunged headforemost into the water below. fortunately the tank was deep at this point, and i suffered no injury from the fall, but as i was rising to the surface my mind filled with the horrors of my position as i thought of the terrible doom which awaited me the moment the eyes of the reptiles fell upon the creature that had disturbed their slumber. as long as i could i remained beneath the surface, swimming rapidly in the direction of the islands that i might prolong my life to the utmost. at last i was forced to rise for air, and as i cast a terrified glance in the direction of the mahars and the thipdars i was almost stunned to see that not a single one remained upon the rocks where i had last seen them, nor as i searched the temple with my eyes could i discern any within it. for a moment i was puzzled to account for the thing, until i realized that the reptiles, being deaf, could not have been disturbed by the noise my body made when it hit the water, and that as there is no such thing as time within pellucidar there was no telling how long i had been beneath the surface. it was a difficult thing to attempt to figure out by earthly standards--this matter of elapsed time--but when i set myself to it i began to realize that i might have been submerged a second or a month or not at all. you have no conception of the strange contradictions and impossibilities which arise when all methods of measuring time, as we know them upon earth, are non-existent. i was about to congratulate myself upon the miracle which had saved me for the moment, when the memory of the hypnotic powers of the mahars filled me with apprehension lest they be practicing their uncanny art upon me to the end that i merely imagined that i was alone in the temple. at the thought cold sweat broke out upon me from every pore, and as i crawled from the water onto one of the tiny islands i was trembling like a leaf--you cannot imagine the awful horror which even the simple thought of the repulsive mahars of pellucidar induces in the human mind, and to feel that you are in their power--that they are crawling, slimy, and abhorrent, to drag you down beneath the waters and devour you! it is frightful. but they did not come, and at last i came to the conclusion that i was indeed alone within the temple. how long i should be alone was the next question to assail me as i swam frantically about once more in search of a means to escape. several times i called to ja, but he must have left after i tumbled into the tank, for i received no response to my cries. doubtless he had felt as certain of my doom when he saw me topple from our hiding place as i had, and lest he too should be discovered, had hastened from the temple and back to his village. i knew that there must be some entrance to the building beside the doorways in the roof, for it did not seem reasonable to believe that the thousands of slaves which were brought here to feed the mahars the human flesh they craved would all be carried through the air, and so i continued my search until at last it was rewarded by the discovery of several loose granite blocks in the masonry at one end of the temple. a little effort proved sufficient to dislodge enough of these stones to permit me to crawl through into the clearing, and a moment later i had scurried across the intervening space to the dense jungle beyond. here i sank panting and trembling upon the matted grasses beneath the giant trees, for i felt that i had escaped from the grinning fangs of death out of the depths of my own grave. whatever dangers lay hidden in this island jungle, there could be none so fearsome as those which i had just escaped. i knew that i could meet death bravely enough if it but came in the form of some familiar beast or man--anything other than the hideous and uncanny mahars. ix the face of death i must have fallen asleep from exhaustion. when i awoke i was very hungry, and after busying myself searching for fruit for a while, i set off through the jungle to find the beach. i knew that the island was not so large but that i could easily find the sea if i did but move in a straight line, but there came the difficulty as there was no way in which i could direct my course and hold it, the sun, of course, being always directly above my head, and the trees so thickly set that i could see no distant object which might serve to guide me in a straight line. as it was i must have walked for a great distance since i ate four times and slept twice before i reached the sea, but at last i did so, and my pleasure at the sight of it was greatly enhanced by the chance discovery of a hidden canoe among the bushes through which i had stumbled just prior to coming upon the beach. i can tell you that it did not take me long to pull that awkward craft down to the water and shove it far out from shore. my experience with ja had taught me that if i were to steal another canoe i must be quick about it and get far beyond the owner's reach as soon as possible. i must have come out upon the opposite side of the island from that at which ja and i had entered it, for the mainland was nowhere in sight. for a long time i paddled around the shore, though well out, before i saw the mainland in the distance. at the sight of it i lost no time in directing my course toward it, for i had long since made up my mind to return to phutra and give myself up that i might be once more with perry and ghak the hairy one. i felt that i was a fool ever to have attempted to escape alone, especially in view of the fact that our plans were already well formulated to make a break for freedom together. of course i realized that the chances of the success of our proposed venture were slim indeed, but i knew that i never could enjoy freedom without perry so long as the old man lived, and i had learned that the probability that i might find him was less than slight. had perry been dead, i should gladly have pitted my strength and wit against the savage and primordial world in which i found myself. i could have lived in seclusion within some rocky cave until i had found the means to outfit myself with the crude weapons of the stone age, and then set out in search of her whose image had now become the constant companion of my waking hours, and the central and beloved figure of my dreams. but, to the best of my knowledge, perry still lived and it was my duty and wish to be again with him, that we might share the dangers and vicissitudes of the strange world we had discovered. and ghak, too; the great, shaggy man had found a place in the hearts of us both, for he was indeed every inch a man and king. uncouth, perhaps, and brutal, too, if judged too harshly by the standards of effete twentieth-century civilization, but withal noble, dignified, chivalrous, and loveable. chance carried me to the very beach upon which i had discovered ja's canoe, and a short time later i was scrambling up the steep bank to retrace my steps from the plain of phutra. but my troubles came when i entered the canyon beyond the summit, for here i found that several of them centered at the point where i crossed the divide, and which one i had traversed to reach the pass i could not for the life of me remember. it was all a matter of chance and so i set off down that which seemed the easiest going, and in this i made the same mistake that many of us do in selecting the path along which we shall follow out the course of our lives, and again learned that it is not always best to follow the line of least resistance. by the time i had eaten eight meals and slept twice i was convinced that i was upon the wrong trail, for between phutra and the inland sea i had not slept at all, and had eaten but once. to retrace my steps to the summit of the divide and explore another canyon seemed the only solution of my problem, but a sudden widening and levelness of the canyon just before me seemed to suggest that it was about to open into a level country, and with the lure of discovery strong upon me i decided to proceed but a short distance farther before i turned back. the next turn of the canyon brought me to its mouth, and before me i saw a narrow plain leading down to an ocean. at my right the side of the canyon continued to the water's edge, the valley lying to my left, and the foot of it running gradually into the sea, where it formed a broad level beach. clumps of strange trees dotted the landscape here and there almost to the water, and rank grass and ferns grew between. from the nature of the vegetation i was convinced that the land between the ocean and the foothills was swampy, though directly before me it seemed dry enough all the way to the sandy strip along which the restless waters advanced and retreated. curiosity prompted me to walk down to the beach, for the scene was very beautiful. as i passed along beside the deep and tangled vegetation of the swamp i thought that i saw a movement of the ferns at my left, but though i stopped a moment to look it was not repeated, and if anything lay hid there my eyes could not penetrate the dense foliage to discern it. presently i stood upon the beach looking out over the wide and lonely sea across whose forbidding bosom no human being had yet ventured, to discover what strange and mysterious lands lay beyond, or what its invisible islands held of riches, wonders, or adventure. what savage faces, what fierce and formidable beasts were this very instant watching the lapping of the waves upon its farther shore! how far did it extend? perry had told me that the seas of pellucidar were small in comparison with those of the outer crust, but even so this great ocean might stretch its broad expanse for thousands of miles. for countless ages it had rolled up and down its countless miles of shore, and yet today it remained all unknown beyond the tiny strip that was visible from its beaches. the fascination of speculation was strong upon me. it was as though i had been carried back to the birth time of our own outer world to look upon its lands and seas ages before man had traversed either. here was a new world, all untouched. it called to me to explore it. i was dreaming of the excitement and adventure which lay before us could perry and i but escape the mahars, when something, a slight noise i imagine, drew my attention behind me. as i turned, romance, adventure, and discovery in the abstract took wing before the terrible embodiment of all three in concrete form that i beheld advancing upon me. a huge, slimy amphibian it was, with toad-like body and the mighty jaws of an alligator. its immense carcass must have weighed tons, and yet it moved swiftly and silently toward me. upon one hand was the bluff that ran from the canyon to the sea, on the other the fearsome swamp from which the creature had sneaked upon me, behind lay the mighty untracked sea, and before me in the center of the narrow way that led to safety stood this huge mountain of terrible and menacing flesh. a single glance at the thing was sufficient to assure me that i was facing one of those long-extinct, prehistoric creatures whose fossilized remains are found within the outer crust as far back as the triassic formation, a gigantic labyrinthodon. and there i was, unarmed, and, with the exception of a loin cloth, as naked as i had come into the world. i could imagine how my first ancestor felt that distant, prehistoric morn that he encountered for the first time the terrifying progenitor of the thing that had me cornered now beside the restless, mysterious sea. unquestionably he had escaped, or i should not have been within pellucidar or elsewhere, and i wished at that moment that he had handed down to me with the various attributes that i presumed i have inherited from him, the specific application of the instinct of self-preservation which saved him from the fate which loomed so close before me today. to seek escape in the swamp or in the ocean would have been similar to jumping into a den of lions to escape one upon the outside. the sea and swamp both were doubtless alive with these mighty, carnivorous amphibians, and if not, the individual that menaced me would pursue me into either the sea or the swamp with equal facility. there seemed nothing to do but stand supinely and await my end. i thought of perry--how he would wonder what had become of me. i thought of my friends of the outer world, and of how they all would go on living their lives in total ignorance of the strange and terrible fate that had overtaken me, or unguessing the weird surroundings which had witnessed the last frightful agony of my extinction. and with these thoughts came a realization of how unimportant to the life and happiness of the world is the existence of any one of us. we may be snuffed out without an instant's warning, and for a brief day our friends speak of us with subdued voices. the following morning, while the first worm is busily engaged in testing the construction of our coffin, they are teeing up for the first hole to suffer more acute sorrow over a sliced ball than they did over our, to us, untimely demise. the labyrinthodon was coming more slowly now. he seemed to realize that escape for me was impossible, and i could have sworn that his huge, fanged jaws grinned in pleasurable appreciation of my predicament, or was it in anticipation of the juicy morsel which would so soon be pulp between those formidable teeth? he was about fifty feet from me when i heard a voice calling to me from the direction of the bluff at my left. i looked and could have shouted in delight at the sight that met my eyes, for there stood ja, waving frantically to me, and urging me to run for it to the cliff's base. i had no idea that i should escape the monster that had marked me for his breakfast, but at least i should not die alone. human eyes would watch me end. it was cold comfort i presume, but yet i derived some slight peace of mind from the contemplation of it. to run seemed ridiculous, especially toward that steep and unscalable cliff, and yet i did so, and as i ran i saw ja, agile as a monkey, crawl down the precipitous face of the rocks, clinging to small projections, and the tough creepers that had found root-hold here and there. the labyrinthodon evidently thought that ja was coming to double his portion of human flesh, so he was in no haste to pursue me to the cliff and frighten away this other tidbit. instead he merely trotted along behind me. as i approached the foot of the cliff i saw what ja intended doing, but i doubted if the thing would prove successful. he had come down to within twenty feet of the bottom, and there, clinging with one hand to a small ledge, and with his feet resting, precariously upon tiny bushes that grew from the solid face of the rock, he lowered the point of his long spear until it hung some six feet above the ground. to clamber up that slim shaft without dragging ja down and precipitating both to the same doom from which the copper-colored one was attempting to save me seemed utterly impossible, and as i came near the spear i told ja so, and that i could not risk him to try to save myself. but he insisted that he knew what he was doing and was in no danger himself. "the danger is still yours," he called, "for unless you move much more rapidly than you are now, the sithic will be upon you and drag you back before ever you are halfway up the spear--he can rear up and reach you with ease anywhere below where i stand." well, ja should know his own business, i thought, and so i grasped the spear and clambered up toward the red man as rapidly as i could--being so far removed from my simian ancestors as i am. i imagine the slow-witted sithic, as ja called him, suddenly realized our intentions and that he was quite likely to lose all his meal instead of having it doubled as he had hoped. when he saw me clambering up that spear he let out a hiss that fairly shook the ground, and came charging after me at a terrific rate. i had reached the top of the spear by this time, or almost; another six inches would give me a hold on ja's hand, when i felt a sudden wrench from below and glancing fearfully downward saw the mighty jaws of the monster close on the sharp point of the weapon. i made a frantic effort to reach ja's hand, the sithic gave a tremendous tug that came near to jerking ja from his frail hold on the surface of the rock, the spear slipped from his fingers, and still clinging to it i plunged feet foremost toward my executioner. at the instant that he felt the spear come away from ja's hand the creature must have opened his huge jaws to catch me, for when i came down, still clinging to the butt end of the weapon, the point yet rested in his mouth and the result was that the sharpened end transfixed his lower jaw. with the pain he snapped his mouth closed. i fell upon his snout, lost my hold upon the spear, rolled the length of his face and head, across his short neck onto his broad back and from there to the ground. scarce had i touched the earth than i was upon my feet, dashing madly for the path by which i had entered this horrible valley. a glance over my shoulder showed me the sithic engaged in pawing at the spear stuck through his lower jaw, and so busily engaged did he remain in this occupation that i had gained the safety of the cliff top before he was ready to take up the pursuit. when he did not discover me in sight within the valley he dashed, hissing into the rank vegetation of the swamp and that was the last i saw of him. x phutra again i hastened to the cliff edge above ja and helped him to a secure footing. he would not listen to any thanks for his attempt to save me, which had come so near miscarrying. "i had given you up for lost when you tumbled into the mahar temple," he said, "for not even i could save you from their clutches, and you may imagine my surprise when on seeing a canoe dragged up upon the beach of the mainland i discovered your own footprints in the sand beside it. "i immediately set out in search of you, knowing as i did that you must be entirely unarmed and defenseless against the many dangers which lurk upon the mainland both in the form of savage beasts and reptiles, and men as well. i had no difficulty in tracking you to this point. it is well that i arrived when i did." "but why did you do it?" i asked, puzzled at this show of friendship on the part of a man of another world and a different race and color. "you saved my life," he replied; "from that moment it became my duty to protect and befriend you. i would have been no true mezop had i evaded my plain duty; but it was a pleasure in this instance for i like you. i wish that you would come and live with me. you shall become a member of my tribe. among us there is the best of hunting and fishing, and you shall have, to choose a mate from, the most beautiful girls of pellucidar. will you come?" i told him about perry then, and dian the beautiful, and how my duty was to them first. afterward i should return and visit him--if i could ever find his island. "oh, that is easy, my friend," he said. "you need merely to come to the foot of the highest peak of the mountains of the clouds. there you will find a river which flows into the lural az. directly opposite the mouth of the river you will see three large islands far out, so far that they are barely discernible, the one to the extreme left as you face them from the mouth of the river is anoroc, where i rule the tribe of anoroc." "but how am i to find the mountains of the clouds?" i asked. "men say that they are visible from half pellucidar," he replied. "how large is pellucidar?" i asked, wondering what sort of theory these primitive men had concerning the form and substance of their world. "the mahars say it is round, like the inside of a tola shell," he answered, "but that is ridiculous, since, were it true, we should fall back were we to travel far in any direction, and all the waters of pellucidar would run to one spot and drown us. no, pellucidar is quite flat and extends no man knows how far in all directions. at the edges, so my ancestors have reported and handed down to me, is a great wall that prevents the earth and waters from escaping over into the burning sea whereon pellucidar floats; but i never have been so far from anoroc as to have seen this wall with my own eyes. however, it is quite reasonable to believe that this is true, whereas there is no reason at all in the foolish belief of the mahars. according to them pellucidarians who live upon the opposite side walk always with their heads pointed downward!" and ja laughed uproariously at the very thought. it was plain to see that the human folk of this inner world had not advanced far in learning, and the thought that the ugly mahars had so outstripped them was a very pathetic one indeed. i wondered how many ages it would take to lift these people out of their ignorance even were it given to perry and me to attempt it. possibly we would be killed for our pains as were those men of the outer world who dared challenge the dense ignorance and superstitions of the earth's younger days. but it was worth the effort if the opportunity ever presented itself. and then it occurred to me that here was an opportunity--that i might make a small beginning upon ja, who was my friend, and thus note the effect of my teaching upon a pellucidarian. "ja," i said, "what would you say were i to tell you that in so far as the mahars' theory of the shape of pellucidar is concerned it is correct?" "i would say," he replied, "that either you are a fool, or took me for one." "but, ja," i insisted, "if their theory is incorrect how do you account for the fact that i was able to pass through the earth from the outer crust to pellucidar. if your theory is correct all is a sea of flame beneath us, where in no peoples could exist, and yet i come from a great world that is covered with human beings, and beasts, and birds, and fishes in mighty oceans." "you live upon the under side of pellucidar, and walk always with your head pointed downward?" he scoffed. "and were i to believe that, my friend, i should indeed be mad." i attempted to explain the force of gravity to him, and by the means of the dropped fruit to illustrate how impossible it would be for a body to fall off the earth under any circumstances. he listened so intently that i thought i had made an impression, and started the train of thought that would lead him to a partial understanding of the truth. but i was mistaken. "your own illustration," he said finally, "proves the falsity of your theory." he dropped a fruit from his hand to the ground. "see," he said, "without support even this tiny fruit falls until it strikes something that stops it. if pellucidar were not supported upon the flaming sea it too would fall as the fruit falls--you have proven it yourself!" he had me, that time--you could see it in his eye. it seemed a hopeless job and i gave it up, temporarily at least, for when i contemplated the necessity explanation of our solar system and the universe i realized how futile it would be to attempt to picture to ja or any other pellucidarian the sun, the moon, the planets, and the countless stars. those born within the inner world could no more conceive of such things than can we of the outer crust reduce to factors appreciable to our finite minds such terms as space and eternity. "well, ja," i laughed, "whether we be walking with our feet up or down, here we are, and the question of greatest importance is not so much where we came from as where we are going now. for my part i wish that you could guide me to phutra where i may give myself up to the mahars once more that my friends and i may work out the plan of escape which the sagoths interrupted when they gathered us together and drove us to the arena to witness the punishment of the slaves who killed the guardsman. i wish now that i had not left the arena for by this time my friends and i might have made good our escape, whereas this delay may mean the wrecking of all our plans, which depended for their consummation upon the continued sleep of the three mahars who lay in the pit beneath the building in which we were confined." "you would return to captivity?" cried ja. "my friends are there," i replied, "the only friends i have in pellucidar, except yourself. what else may i do under the circumstances?" he thought for a moment in silence. then he shook his head sorrowfully. "it is what a brave man and a good friend should do," he said; "yet it seems most foolish, for the mahars will most certainly condemn you to death for running away, and so you will be accomplishing nothing for your friends by returning. never in all my life have i heard of a prisoner returning to the mahars of his own free will. there are but few who escape them, though some do, and these would rather die than be recaptured." "i see no other way, ja," i said, "though i can assure you that i would rather go to sheol after perry than to phutra. however, perry is much too pious to make the probability at all great that i should ever be called upon to rescue him from the former locality." ja asked me what sheol was, and when i explained, as best i could, he said, "you are speaking of molop az, the flaming sea upon which pellucidar floats. all the dead who are buried in the ground go there. piece by piece they are carried down to molop az by the little demons who dwell there. we know this because when graves are opened we find that the bodies have been partially or entirely borne off. that is why we of anoroc place our dead in high trees where the birds may find them and bear them bit by bit to the dead world above the land of awful shadow. if we kill an enemy we place his body in the ground that it may go to molop az." as we talked we had been walking up the canyon down which i had come to the great ocean and the sithic. ja did his best to dissuade me from returning to phutra, but when he saw that i was determined to do so, he consented to guide me to a point from which i could see the plain where lay the city. to my surprise the distance was but short from the beach where i had again met ja. it was evident that i had spent much time following the windings of a tortuous canon, while just beyond the ridge lay the city of phutra near to which i must have come several times. as we topped the ridge and saw the granite gate towers dotting the flowered plain at our feet ja made a final effort to persuade me to abandon my mad purpose and return with him to anoroc, but i was firm in my resolve, and at last he bid me good-bye, assured in his own mind that he was looking upon me for the last time. i was sorry to part with ja, for i had come to like him very much indeed. with his hidden city upon the island of anoroc as a base, and his savage warriors as escort perry and i could have accomplished much in the line of exploration, and i hoped that were we successful in our effort to escape we might return to anoroc later. there was, however, one great thing to be accomplished first--at least it was the great thing to me--the finding of dian the beautiful. i wanted to make amends for the affront i had put upon her in my ignorance, and i wanted to--well, i wanted to see her again, and to be with her. down the hillside i made my way into the gorgeous field of flowers, and then across the rolling land toward the shadowless columns that guard the ways to buried phutra. at a quarter-mile from the nearest entrance i was discovered by the sagoth guard, and in an instant four of the gorilla-men were dashing toward me. though they brandished their long spears and yelled like wild comanches i paid not the slightest attention to them, walking quietly toward them as though unaware of their existence. my manner had the effect upon them that i had hoped, and as we came quite near together they ceased their savage shouting. it was evident that they had expected me to turn and flee at sight of them, thus presenting that which they most enjoyed, a moving human target at which to cast their spears. "what do you here?" shouted one, and then as he recognized me, "ho! it is the slave who claims to be from another world--he who escaped when the thag ran amuck within the amphitheater. but why do you return, having once made good your escape?" "i did not 'escape'," i replied. "i but ran away to avoid the thag, as did others, and coming into a long passage i became confused and lost my way in the foothills beyond phutra. only now have i found my way back." "and you come of your free will back to phutra!" exclaimed one of the guardsmen. "where else might i go?" i asked. "i am a stranger within pellucidar and know no other where than phutra. why should i not desire to be in phutra? am i not well fed and well treated? am i not happy? what better lot could man desire?" the sagoths scratched their heads. this was a new one on them, and so being stupid brutes they took me to their masters whom they felt would be better fitted to solve the riddle of my return, for riddle they still considered it. i had spoken to the sagoths as i had for the purpose of throwing them off the scent of my purposed attempt at escape. if they thought that i was so satisfied with my lot within phutra that i would voluntarily return when i had once had so excellent an opportunity to escape, they would never for an instant imagine that i could be occupied in arranging another escape immediately upon my return to the city. so they led me before a slimy mahar who clung to a slimy rock within the large room that was the thing's office. with cold, reptilian eyes the creature seemed to bore through the thin veneer of my deceit and read my inmost thoughts. it heeded the story which the sagoths told of my return to phutra, watching the gorilla-men's lips and fingers during the recital. then it questioned me through one of the sagoths. "you say that you returned to phutra of your own free will, because you think yourself better off here than elsewhere--do you not know that you may be the next chosen to give up your life in the interests of the wonderful scientific investigations that our learned ones are continually occupied with?" i hadn't heard of anything of that nature, but i thought best not to admit it. "i could be in no more danger here," i said, "than naked and unarmed in the savage jungles or upon the lonely plains of pellucidar. i was fortunate, i think, to return to phutra at all. as it was i barely escaped death within the jaws of a huge sithic. no, i am sure that i am safer in the hands of intelligent creatures such as rule phutra. at least such would be the case in my own world, where human beings like myself rule supreme. there the higher races of man extend protection and hospitality to the stranger within their gates, and being a stranger here i naturally assumed that a like courtesy would be accorded me." the mahar looked at me in silence for some time after i ceased speaking and the sagoth had translated my words to his master. the creature seemed deep in thought. presently he communicated some message to the sagoth. the latter turned, and motioning me to follow him, left the presence of the reptile. behind and on either side of me marched the balance of the guard. "what are they going to do with me?" i asked the fellow at my right. "you are to appear before the learned ones who will question you regarding this strange world from which you say you come." after a moment's silence he turned to me again. "do you happen to know," he asked, "what the mahars do to slaves who lie to them?" "no," i replied, "nor does it interest me, as i have no intention of lying to the mahars." "then be careful that you don't repeat the impossible tale you told sol-to-to just now--another world, indeed, where human beings rule!" he concluded in fine scorn. "but it is the truth," i insisted. "from where else then did i come? i am not of pellucidar. anyone with half an eye could see that." "it is your misfortune then," he remarked dryly, "that you may not be judged by one with but half an eye." "what will they do with me," i asked, "if they do not have a mind to believe me?" "you may be sentenced to the arena, or go to the pits to be used in research work by the learned ones," he replied. "and what will they do with me there?" i persisted. "no one knows except the mahars and those who go to the pits with them, but as the latter never return, their knowledge does them but little good. it is said that the learned ones cut up their subjects while they are yet alive, thus learning many useful things. however i should not imagine that it would prove very useful to him who was being cut up; but of course this is all but conjecture. the chances are that ere long you will know much more about it than i," and he grinned as he spoke. the sagoths have a well-developed sense of humor. "and suppose it is the arena," i continued; "what then?" "you saw the two who met the tarag and the thag the time that you escaped?" he said. "yes." "your end in the arena would be similar to what was intended for them," he explained, "though of course the same kinds of animals might not be employed." "it is sure death in either event?" i asked. "what becomes of those who go below with the learned ones i do not know, nor does any other," he replied; "but those who go to the arena may come out alive and thus regain their liberty, as did the two whom you saw." "they gained their liberty? and how?" "it is the custom of the mahars to liberate those who remain alive within the arena after the beasts depart or are killed. thus it has happened that several mighty warriors from far distant lands, whom we have captured on our slave raids, have battled the brutes turned in upon them and slain them, thereby winning their freedom. in the instance which you witnessed the beasts killed each other, but the result was the same--the man and woman were liberated, furnished with weapons, and started on their homeward journey. upon the left shoulder of each a mark was burned--the mark of the mahars--which will forever protect these two from slaving parties." "there is a slender chance for me then if i be sent to the arena, and none at all if the learned ones drag me to the pits?" "you are quite right," he replied; "but do not felicitate yourself too quickly should you be sent to the arena, for there is scarce one in a thousand who comes out alive." to my surprise they returned me to the same building in which i had been confined with perry and ghak before my escape. at the doorway i was turned over to the guards there. "he will doubtless be called before the investigators shortly," said he who had brought me back, "so have him in readiness." the guards in whose hands i now found myself, upon hearing that i had returned of my own volition to phutra evidently felt that it would be safe to give me liberty within the building as had been the custom before i had escaped, and so i was told to return to whatever duty had been mine formerly. my first act was to hunt up perry; whom i found poring as usual over the great tomes that he was supposed to be merely dusting and rearranging upon new shelves. as i entered the room he glanced up and nodded pleasantly to me, only to resume his work as though i had never been away at all. i was both astonished and hurt at his indifference. and to think that i was risking death to return to him purely from a sense of duty and affection! "why, perry!" i exclaimed, "haven't you a word for me after my long absence?" "long absence!" he repeated in evident astonishment. "what do you mean?" "are you crazy, perry? do you mean to say that you have not missed me since that time we were separated by the charging thag within the arena?" "'that time'," he repeated. "why man, i have but just returned from the arena! you reached here almost as soon as i. had you been much later i should indeed have been worried, and as it is i had intended asking you about how you escaped the beast as soon as i had completed the translation of this most interesting passage." "perry, you are mad," i exclaimed. "why, the lord only knows how long i have been away. i have been to other lands, discovered a new race of humans within pellucidar, seen the mahars at their worship in their hidden temple, and barely escaped with my life from them and from a great labyrinthodon that i met afterward, following my long and tedious wanderings across an unknown world. i must have been away for months, perry, and now you barely look up from your work when i return and insist that we have been separated but a moment. is that any way to treat a friend? i'm surprised at you, perry, and if i'd thought for a moment that you cared no more for me than this i should not have returned to chance death at the hands of the mahars for your sake." the old man looked at me for a long time before he spoke. there was a puzzled expression upon his wrinkled face, and a look of hurt sorrow in his eyes. "david, my boy," he said, "how could you for a moment doubt my love for you? there is something strange here that i cannot understand. i know that i am not mad, and i am equally sure that you are not; but how in the world are we to account for the strange hallucinations that each of us seems to harbor relative to the passage of time since last we saw each other. you are positive that months have gone by, while to me it seems equally certain that not more than an hour ago i sat beside you in the amphitheater. can it be that both of us are right and at the same time both are wrong? first tell me what time is, and then maybe i can solve our problem. do you catch my meaning?" i didn't and said so. "yes," continued the old man, "we are both right. to me, bent over my book here, there has been no lapse of time. i have done little or nothing to waste my energies and so have required neither food nor sleep, but you, on the contrary, have walked and fought and wasted strength and tissue which must needs be rebuilt by nutriment and food, and so, having eaten and slept many times since last you saw me you naturally measure the lapse of time largely by these acts. as a matter of fact, david, i am rapidly coming to the conviction that there is no such thing as time--surely there can be no time here within pellucidar, where there are no means for measuring or recording time. why, the mahars themselves take no account of such a thing as time. i find here in all their literary works but a single tense, the present. there seems to be neither past nor future with them. of course it is impossible for our outer-earthly minds to grasp such a condition, but our recent experiences seem to demonstrate its existence." it was too big a subject for me, and i said so, but perry seemed to enjoy nothing better than speculating upon it, and after listening with interest to my account of the adventures through which i had passed he returned once more to the subject, which he was enlarging upon with considerable fluency when he was interrupted by the entrance of a sagoth. "come!" commanded the intruder, beckoning to me. "the investigators would speak with you." "good-bye, perry!" i said, clasping the old man's hand. "there may be nothing but the present and no such thing as time, but i feel that i am about to take a trip into the hereafter from which i shall never return. if you and ghak should manage to escape i want you to promise me that you will find dian the beautiful and tell her that with my last words i asked her forgiveness for the unintentional affront i put upon her, and that my one wish was to be spared long enough to right the wrong that i had done her." tears came to perry's eyes. "i cannot believe but that you will return, david," he said. "it would be awful to think of living out the balance of my life without you among these hateful and repulsive creatures. if you are taken away i shall never escape, for i feel that i am as well off here as i should be anywhere within this buried world. good-bye, my boy, good-bye!" and then his old voice faltered and broke, and as he hid his face in his hands the sagoth guardsman grasped me roughly by the shoulder and hustled me from the chamber. xi four dead mahars a moment later i was standing before a dozen mahars--the social investigators of phutra. they asked me many questions, through a sagoth interpreter. i answered them all truthfully. they seemed particularly interested in my account of the outer earth and the strange vehicle which had brought perry and me to pellucidar. i thought that i had convinced them, and after they had sat in silence for a long time following my examination, i expected to be ordered returned to my quarters. during this apparent silence they were debating through the medium of strange, unspoken language the merits of my tale. at last the head of the tribunal communicated the result of their conference to the officer in charge of the sagoth guard. "come," he said to me, "you are sentenced to the experimental pits for having dared to insult the intelligence of the mighty ones with the ridiculous tale you have had the temerity to unfold to them." "do you mean that they do not believe me?" i asked, totally astonished. "believe you!" he laughed. "do you mean to say that you expected any one to believe so impossible a lie?" it was hopeless, and so i walked in silence beside my guard down through the dark corridors and runways toward my awful doom. at a low level we came upon a number of lighted chambers in which we saw many mahars engaged in various occupations. to one of these chambers my guard escorted me, and before leaving they chained me to a side wall. there were other humans similarly chained. upon a long table lay a victim even as i was ushered into the room. several mahars stood about the poor creature holding him down so that he could not move. another, grasping a sharp knife with her three-toed fore foot, was laying open the victim's chest and abdomen. no anesthetic had been administered and the shrieks and groans of the tortured man were terrible to hear. this, indeed, was vivisection with a vengeance. cold sweat broke out upon me as i realized that soon my turn would come. and to think that where there was no such thing as time i might easily imagine that my suffering was enduring for months before death finally released me! the mahars had paid not the slightest attention to me as i had been brought into the room. so deeply immersed were they in their work that i am sure they did not even know that the sagoths had entered with me. the door was close by. would that i could reach it! but those heavy chains precluded any such possibility. i looked about for some means of escape from my bonds. upon the floor between me and the mahars lay a tiny surgical instrument which one of them must have dropped. it looked not unlike a button-hook, but was much smaller, and its point was sharpened. a hundred times in my boyhood days had i picked locks with a button-hook. could i but reach that little bit of polished steel i might yet effect at least a temporary escape. crawling to the limit of my chain, i found that by reaching one hand as far out as i could my fingers still fell an inch short of the coveted instrument. it was tantalizing! stretch every fiber of my being as i would, i could not quite make it. at last i turned about and extended one foot toward the object. my heart came to my throat! i could just touch the thing! but suppose that in my effort to drag it toward me i should accidentally shove it still farther away and thus entirely out of reach! cold sweat broke out upon me from every pore. slowly and cautiously i made the effort. my toes dropped upon the cold metal. gradually i worked it toward me until i felt that it was within reach of my hand and a moment later i had turned about and the precious thing was in my grasp. assiduously i fell to work upon the mahar lock that held my chain. it was pitifully simple. a child might have picked it, and a moment later i was free. the mahars were now evidently completing their work at the table. one already turned away and was examining other victims, evidently with the intention of selecting the next subject. those at the table had their backs toward me. but for the creature walking toward us i might have escaped that moment. slowly the thing approached me, when its attention was attracted by a huge slave chained a few yards to my right. here the reptile stopped and commenced to go over the poor devil carefully, and as it did so its back turned toward me for an instant, and in that instant i gave two mighty leaps that carried me out of the chamber into the corridor beyond, down which i raced with all the speed i could command. where i was, or whither i was going, i knew not. my only thought was to place as much distance as possible between me and that frightful chamber of torture. presently i reduced my speed to a brisk walk, and later realizing the danger of running into some new predicament, were i not careful, i moved still more slowly and cautiously. after a time i came to a passage that seemed in some mysterious way familiar to me, and presently, chancing to glance within a chamber which led from the corridor i saw three mahars curled up in slumber upon a bed of skins. i could have shouted aloud in joy and relief. it was the same corridor and the same mahars that i had intended to have lead so important a role in our escape from phutra. providence had indeed been kind to me, for the reptiles still slept. my one great danger now lay in returning to the upper levels in search of perry and ghak, but there was nothing else to be done, and so i hastened upward. when i came to the frequented portions of the building, i found a large burden of skins in a corner and these i lifted to my head, carrying them in such a way that ends and corners fell down about my shoulders completely hiding my face. thus disguised i found perry and ghak together in the chamber where we had been wont to eat and sleep. both were glad to see me, it was needless to say, though of course they had known nothing of the fate that had been meted out to me by my judges. it was decided that no time should now be lost before attempting to put our plan of escape to the test, as i could not hope to remain hidden from the sagoths long, nor could i forever carry that bale of skins about upon my head without arousing suspicion. however it seemed likely that it would carry me once more safely through the crowded passages and chambers of the upper levels, and so i set out with perry and ghak--the stench of the illy cured pelts fairly choking me. together we repaired to the first tier of corridors beneath the main floor of the buildings, and here perry and ghak halted to await me. the buildings are cut out of the solid limestone formation. there is nothing at all remarkable about their architecture. the rooms are sometimes rectangular, sometimes circular, and again oval in shape. the corridors which connect them are narrow and not always straight. the chambers are lighted by diffused sunlight reflected through tubes similar to those by which the avenues are lighted. the lower the tiers of chambers, the darker. most of the corridors are entirely unlighted. the mahars can see quite well in semidarkness. down to the main floor we encountered many mahars, sagoths, and slaves; but no attention was paid to us as we had become a part of the domestic life of the building. there was but a single entrance leading from the place into the avenue and this was well guarded by sagoths--this doorway alone were we forbidden to pass. it is true that we were not supposed to enter the deeper corridors and apartments except on special occasions when we were instructed to do so; but as we were considered a lower order without intelligence there was little reason to fear that we could accomplish any harm by so doing, and so we were not hindered as we entered the corridor which led below. wrapped in a skin i carried three swords, and the two bows, and the arrows which perry and i had fashioned. as many slaves bore skin-wrapped burdens to and fro my load attracted no comment. where i left ghak and perry there were no other creatures in sight, and so i withdrew one sword from the package, and leaving the balance of the weapons with perry, started on alone toward the lower levels. having come to the apartment in which the three mahars slept i entered silently on tiptoe, forgetting that the creatures were without the sense of hearing. with a quick thrust through the heart i disposed of the first but my second thrust was not so fortunate, so that before i could kill the next of my victims it had hurled itself against the third, who sprang quickly up, facing me with wide-distended jaws. but fighting is not the occupation which the race of mahars loves, and when the thing saw that i already had dispatched two of its companions, and that my sword was red with their blood, it made a dash to escape me. but i was too quick for it, and so, half hopping, half flying, it scurried down another corridor with me close upon its heels. its escape meant the utter ruin of our plan, and in all probability my instant death. this thought lent wings to my feet; but even at my best i could do no more than hold my own with the leaping thing before me. of a sudden it turned into an apartment on the right of the corridor, and an instant later as i rushed in i found myself facing two of the mahars. the one who had been there when we entered had been occupied with a number of metal vessels, into which had been put powders and liquids as i judged from the array of flasks standing about upon the bench where it had been working. in an instant i realized what i had stumbled upon. it was the very room for the finding of which perry had given me minute directions. it was the buried chamber in which was hidden the great secret of the race of mahars. and on the bench beside the flasks lay the skin-bound book which held the only copy of the thing i was to have sought, after dispatching the three mahars in their sleep. there was no exit from the room other than the doorway in which i now stood facing the two frightful reptiles. cornered, i knew that they would fight like demons, and they were well equipped to fight if fight they must. together they launched themselves upon me, and though i ran one of them through the heart on the instant, the other fastened its gleaming fangs about my sword arm above the elbow, and then with her sharp talons commenced to rake me about the body, evidently intent upon disemboweling me. i saw that it was useless to hope that i might release my arm from that powerful, viselike grip which seemed to be severing my arm from my body. the pain i suffered was intense, but it only served to spur me to greater efforts to overcome my antagonist. back and forth across the floor we struggled--the mahar dealing me terrific, cutting blows with her fore feet, while i attempted to protect my body with my left hand, at the same time watching for an opportunity to transfer my blade from my now useless sword hand to its rapidly weakening mate. at last i was successful, and with what seemed to me my last ounce of strength i ran the blade through the ugly body of my foe. soundless, as it had fought, it died, and though weak from pain and loss of blood, it was with an emotion of triumphant pride that i stepped across its convulsively stiffening corpse to snatch up the most potent secret of a world. a single glance assured me it was the very thing that perry had described to me. and as i grasped it did i think of what it meant to the human race of pellucidar--did there flash through my mind the thought that countless generations of my own kind yet unborn would have reason to worship me for the thing that i had accomplished for them? i did not. i thought of a beautiful oval face, gazing out of limpid eyes, through a waving mass of jet-black hair. i thought of red, red lips, god-made for kissing. and of a sudden, apropos of nothing, standing there alone in the secret chamber of the mahars of pellucidar, i realized that i loved dian the beautiful. xii pursuit for an instant i stood there thinking of her, and then, with a sigh, i tucked the book in the thong that supported my loin cloth, and turned to leave the apartment. at the bottom of the corridor which leads aloft from the lower chambers i whistled in accordance with the prearranged signal which was to announce to perry and ghak that i had been successful. a moment later they stood beside me, and to my surprise i saw that hooja the sly one accompanied them. "he joined us," explained perry, "and would not be denied. the fellow is a fox. he scents escape, and rather than be thwarted of our chance now i told him that i would bring him to you, and let you decide whether he might accompany us." i had no love for hooja, and no confidence in him. i was sure that if he thought it would profit him he would betray us; but i saw no way out of it now, and the fact that i had killed four mahars instead of only the three i had expected to, made it possible to include the fellow in our scheme of escape. "very well," i said, "you may come with us, hooja; but at the first intimation of treachery i shall run my sword through you. do you understand?" he said that he did. some time later we had removed the skins from the four mahars, and so succeeded in crawling inside of them ourselves that there seemed an excellent chance for us to pass unnoticed from phutra. it was not an easy thing to fasten the hides together where we had split them along the belly to remove them from their carcasses, but by remaining out until the others had all been sewed in with my help, and then leaving an aperture in the breast of perry's skin through which he could pass his hands to sew me up, we were enabled to accomplish our design to really much better purpose than i had hoped. we managed to keep the heads erect by passing our swords up through the necks, and by the same means were enabled to move them about in a life-like manner. we had our greatest difficulty with the webbed feet, but even that problem was finally solved, so that when we moved about we did so quite naturally. tiny holes punctured in the baggy throats into which our heads were thrust permitted us to see well enough to guide our progress. thus we started up toward the main floor of the building. ghak headed the strange procession, then came perry, followed by hooja, while i brought up the rear, after admonishing hooja that i had so arranged my sword that i could thrust it through the head of my disguise into his vitals were he to show any indication of faltering. as the noise of hurrying feet warned me that we were entering the busy corridors of the main level, my heart came up into my mouth. it is with no sense of shame that i admit that i was frightened--never before in my life, nor since, did i experience any such agony of soulsearing fear and suspense as enveloped me. if it be possible to sweat blood, i sweat it then. slowly, after the manner of locomotion habitual to the mahars, when they are not using their wings, we crept through throngs of busy slaves, sagoths, and mahars. after what seemed an eternity we reached the outer door which leads into the main avenue of phutra. many sagoths loitered near the opening. they glanced at ghak as he padded between them. then perry passed, and then hooja. now it was my turn, and then in a sudden fit of freezing terror i realized that the warm blood from my wounded arm was trickling down through the dead foot of the mahar skin i wore and leaving its tell-tale mark upon the pavement, for i saw a sagoth call a companion's attention to it. the guard stepped before me and pointing to my bleeding foot spoke to me in the sign language which these two races employ as a means of communication. even had i known what he was saying i could not have replied with the dead thing that covered me. i once had seen a great mahar freeze a presumptuous sagoth with a look. it seemed my only hope, and so i tried it. stopping in my tracks i moved my sword so that it made the dead head appear to turn inquiring eyes upon the gorilla-man. for a long moment i stood perfectly still, eyeing the fellow with those dead eyes. then i lowered the head and started slowly on. for a moment all hung in the balance, but before i touched him the guard stepped to one side, and i passed on out into the avenue. on we went up the broad street, but now we were safe for the very numbers of our enemies that surrounded us on all sides. fortunately, there was a great concourse of mahars repairing to the shallow lake which lies a mile or more from the city. they go there to indulge their amphibian proclivities in diving for small fish, and enjoying the cool depths of the water. it is a fresh-water lake, shallow, and free from the larger reptiles which make the use of the great seas of pellucidar impossible for any but their own kind. in the thick of the crowd we passed up the steps and out onto the plain. for some distance ghak remained with the stream that was traveling toward the lake, but finally, at the bottom of a little gully he halted, and there we remained until all had passed and we were alone. then, still in our disguises, we set off directly away from phutra. the heat of the vertical rays of the sun was fast making our horrible prisons unbearable, so that after passing a low divide, and entering a sheltering forest, we finally discarded the mahar skins that had brought us thus far in safety. i shall not weary you with the details of that bitter and galling flight. how we traveled at a dogged run until we dropped in our tracks. how we were beset by strange and terrible beasts. how we barely escaped the cruel fangs of lions and tigers the size of which would dwarf into pitiful insignificance the greatest felines of the outer world. on and on we raced, our one thought to put as much distance between ourselves and phutra as possible. ghak was leading us to his own land--the land of sari. no sign of pursuit had developed, and yet we were sure that somewhere behind us relentless sagoths were dogging our tracks. ghak said they never failed to hunt down their quarry until they had captured it or themselves been turned back by a superior force. our only hope, he said, lay in reaching his tribe which was quite strong enough in their mountain fastness to beat off any number of sagoths. at last, after what seemed months, and may, i now realize, have been years, we came in sight of the dun escarpment which buttressed the foothills of sari. at almost the same instant, hooja, who looked ever quite as much behind as before, announced that he could see a body of men far behind us topping a low ridge in our wake. it was the long-expected pursuit. i asked ghak if we could make sari in time to escape them. "we may," he replied; "but you will find that the sagoths can move with incredible swiftness, and as they are almost tireless they are doubtless much fresher than we. then--" he paused, glancing at perry. i knew what he meant. the old man was exhausted. for much of the period of our flight either ghak or i had half supported him on the march. with such a handicap, less fleet pursuers than the sagoths might easily overtake us before we could scale the rugged heights which confronted us. "you and hooja go on ahead," i said. "perry and i will make it if we are able. we cannot travel as rapidly as you two, and there is no reason why all should be lost because of that. it can't be helped--we have simply to face it." "i will not desert a companion," was ghak's simple reply. i hadn't known that this great, hairy, primeval man had any such nobility of character stowed away inside him. i had always liked him, but now to my liking was added honor and respect. yes, and love. but still i urged him to go on ahead, insisting that if he could reach his people he might be able to bring out a sufficient force to drive off the sagoths and rescue perry and myself. no, he wouldn't leave us, and that was all there was to it, but he suggested that hooja might hurry on and warn the sarians of the king's danger. it didn't require much urging to start hooja--the naked idea was enough to send him leaping on ahead of us into the foothills which we now had reached. perry realized that he was jeopardizing ghak's life and mine and the old fellow fairly begged us to go on without him, although i knew that he was suffering a perfect anguish of terror at the thought of falling into the hands of the sagoths. ghak finally solved the problem, in part, by lifting perry in his powerful arms and carrying him. while the act cut down ghak's speed he still could travel faster thus than when half supporting the stumbling old man. xiii the sly one the sagoths were gaining on us rapidly, for once they had sighted us they had greatly increased their speed. on and on we stumbled up the narrow canyon that ghak had chosen to approach the heights of sari. on either side rose precipitous cliffs of gorgeous, parti-colored rock, while beneath our feet a thick mountain grass formed a soft and noiseless carpet. since we had entered the canyon we had had no glimpse of our pursuers, and i was commencing to hope that they had lost our trail and that we would reach the now rapidly nearing cliffs in time to scale them before we should be overtaken. ahead we neither saw nor heard any sign which might betoken the success of hooja's mission. by now he should have reached the outposts of the sarians, and we should at least hear the savage cries of the tribesmen as they swarmed to arms in answer to their king's appeal for succor. in another moment the frowning cliffs ahead should be black with primeval warriors. but nothing of the kind happened--as a matter of fact the sly one had betrayed us. at the moment that we expected to see sarian spearmen charging to our relief at hooja's back, the craven traitor was sneaking around the outskirts of the nearest sarian village, that he might come up from the other side when it was too late to save us, claiming that he had become lost among the mountains. hooja still harbored ill will against me because of the blow i had struck in dian's protection, and his malevolent spirit was equal to sacrificing us all that he might be revenged upon me. as we drew nearer the barrier cliffs and no sign of rescuing sarians appeared ghak became both angry and alarmed, and presently as the sound of rapidly approaching pursuit fell upon our ears, he called to me over his shoulder that we were lost. a backward glance gave me a glimpse of the first of the sagoths at the far end of a considerable stretch of canyon through which we had just passed, and then a sudden turning shut the ugly creature from my view; but the loud howl of triumphant rage which rose behind us was evidence that the gorilla-man had sighted us. again the canyon veered sharply to the left, but to the right another branch ran on at a lesser deviation from the general direction, so that appeared more like the main canyon than the left-hand branch. the sagoths were now not over two hundred and fifty yards behind us, and i saw that it was hopeless for us to expect to escape other than by a ruse. there was a bare chance of saving ghak and perry, and as i reached the branching of the canyon i took the chance. pausing there i waited until the foremost sagoth hove into sight. ghak and perry had disappeared around a bend in the left-hand canyon, and as the sagoth's savage yell announced that he had seen me i turned and fled up the right-hand branch. my ruse was successful, and the entire party of man-hunters raced headlong after me up one canyon while ghak bore perry to safety up the other. running has never been my particular athletic forte, and now when my very life depended upon fleetness of foot i cannot say that i ran any better than on the occasions when my pitiful base running had called down upon my head the rooter's raucous and reproachful cries of "ice wagon," and "call a cab." the sagoths were gaining on me rapidly. there was one in particular, fleeter than his fellows, who was perilously close. the canyon had become a rocky slit, rising roughly at a steep angle toward what seemed a pass between two abutting peaks. what lay beyond i could not even guess--possibly a sheer drop of hundreds of feet into the corresponding valley upon the other side. could it be that i had plunged into a cul-de-sac? realizing that i could not hope to outdistance the sagoths to the top of the canyon i had determined to risk all in an attempt to check them temporarily, and to this end had unslung my rudely made bow and plucked an arrow from the skin quiver which hung behind my shoulder. as i fitted the shaft with my right hand i stopped and wheeled toward the gorilla-man. in the world of my birth i never had drawn a shaft, but since our escape from phutra i had kept the party supplied with small game by means of my arrows, and so, through necessity, had developed a fair degree of accuracy. during our flight from phutra i had restrung my bow with a piece of heavy gut taken from a huge tiger which ghak and i had worried and finally dispatched with arrows, spear, and sword. the hard wood of the bow was extremely tough and this, with the strength and elasticity of my new string, gave me unwonted confidence in my weapon. never had i greater need of steady nerves than then--never were my nerves and muscles under better control. i sighted as carefully and deliberately as though at a straw target. the sagoth had never before seen a bow and arrow, but of a sudden it must have swept over his dull intellect that the thing i held toward him was some sort of engine of destruction, for he too came to a halt, simultaneously swinging his hatchet for a throw. it is one of the many methods in which they employ this weapon, and the accuracy of aim which they achieve, even under the most unfavorable circumstances, is little short of miraculous. my shaft was drawn back its full length--my eye had centered its sharp point upon the left breast of my adversary; and then he launched his hatchet and i released my arrow. at the instant that our missiles flew i leaped to one side, but the sagoth sprang forward to follow up his attack with a spear thrust. i felt the swish of the hatchet at it grazed my head, and at the same instant my shaft pierced the sagoth's savage heart, and with a single groan he lunged almost at my feet--stone dead. close behind him were two more--fifty yards perhaps--but the distance gave me time to snatch up the dead guardsman's shield, for the close call his hatchet had just given me had borne in upon me the urgent need i had for one. those which i had purloined at phutra we had not been able to bring along because their size precluded our concealing them within the skins of the mahars which had brought us safely from the city. with the shield slipped well up on my left arm i let fly with another arrow, which brought down a second sagoth, and then as his fellow's hatchet sped toward me i caught it upon the shield, and fitted another shaft for him; but he did not wait to receive it. instead, he turned and retreated toward the main body of gorilla-men. evidently he had seen enough of me for the moment. once more i took up my flight, nor were the sagoths apparently overanxious to press their pursuit so closely as before. unmolested i reached the top of the canyon where i found a sheer drop of two or three hundred feet to the bottom of a rocky chasm; but on the left a narrow ledge rounded the shoulder of the overhanging cliff. along this i advanced, and at a sudden turning, a few yards beyond the canyon's end, the path widened, and at my left i saw the opening to a large cave. before, the ledge continued until it passed from sight about another projecting buttress of the mountain. here, i felt, i could defy an army, for but a single foeman could advance upon me at a time, nor could he know that i was awaiting him until he came full upon me around the corner of the turn. about me lay scattered stones crumbled from the cliff above. they were of various sizes and shapes, but enough were of handy dimensions for use as ammunition in lieu of my precious arrows. gathering a number of stones into a little pile beside the mouth of the cave i waited the advance of the sagoths. as i stood there, tense and silent, listening for the first faint sound that should announce the approach of my enemies, a slight noise from within the cave's black depths attracted my attention. it might have been produced by the moving of the great body of some huge beast rising from the rock floor of its lair. at almost the same instant i thought that i caught the scraping of hide sandals upon the ledge beyond the turn. for the next few seconds my attention was considerably divided. and then from the inky blackness at my right i saw two flaming eyes glaring into mine. they were on a level that was over two feet above my head. it is true that the beast who owned them might be standing upon a ledge within the cave, or that it might be rearing up upon its hind legs; but i had seen enough of the monsters of pellucidar to know that i might be facing some new and frightful titan whose dimensions and ferocity eclipsed those of any i had seen before. whatever it was, it was coming slowly toward the entrance of the cave, and now, deep and forbidding, it uttered a low and ominous growl. i waited no longer to dispute possession of the ledge with the thing which owned that voice. the noise had not been loud--i doubt if the sagoths heard it at all--but the suggestion of latent possibilities behind it was such that i knew it would only emanate from a gigantic and ferocious beast. as i backed along the ledge i soon was past the mouth of the cave, where i no longer could see those fearful flaming eyes, but an instant later i caught sight of the fiendish face of a sagoth as it warily advanced beyond the cliff's turn on the far side of the cave's mouth. as the fellow saw me he leaped along the ledge in pursuit, and after him came as many of his companions as could crowd upon each other's heels. at the same time the beast emerged from the cave, so that he and the sagoths came face to face upon that narrow ledge. the thing was an enormous cave bear, rearing its colossal bulk fully eight feet at the shoulder, while from the tip of its nose to the end of its stubby tail it was fully twelve feet in length. as it sighted the sagoths it emitted a most frightful roar, and with open mouth charged full upon them. with a cry of terror the foremost gorilla-man turned to escape, but behind him he ran full upon his on-rushing companions. the horror of the following seconds is indescribable. the sagoth nearest the cave bear, finding his escape blocked, turned and leaped deliberately to an awful death upon the jagged rocks three hundred feet below. then those giant jaws reached out and gathered in the next--there was a sickening sound of crushing bones, and the mangled corpse was dropped over the cliff's edge. nor did the mighty beast even pause in his steady advance along the ledge. shrieking sagoths were now leaping madly over the precipice to escape him, and the last i saw he rounded the turn still pursuing the demoralized remnant of the man hunters. for a long time i could hear the horrid roaring of the brute intermingled with the screams and shrieks of his victims, until finally the awful sounds dwindled and disappeared in the distance. later i learned from ghak, who had finally come to his tribesmen and returned with a party to rescue me, that the ryth, as it is called, pursued the sagoths until it had exterminated the entire band. ghak was, of course, positive that i had fallen prey to the terrible creature, which, within pellucidar, is truly the king of beasts. not caring to venture back into the canyon, where i might fall prey either to the cave bear or the sagoths i continued on along the ledge, believing that by following around the mountain i could reach the land of sari from another direction. but i evidently became confused by the twisting and turning of the canyons and gullies, for i did not come to the land of sari then, nor for a long time thereafter. xiv the garden of eden with no heavenly guide, it is little wonder that i became confused and lost in the labyrinthine maze of those mighty hills. what, in reality, i did was to pass entirely through them and come out above the valley upon the farther side. i know that i wandered for a long time, until tired and hungry i came upon a small cave in the face of the limestone formation which had taken the place of the granite farther back. the cave which took my fancy lay halfway up the precipitous side of a lofty cliff. the way to it was such that i knew no extremely formidable beast could frequent it, nor was it large enough to make a comfortable habitat for any but the smaller mammals or reptiles. yet it was with the utmost caution that i crawled within its dark interior. here i found a rather large chamber, lighted by a narrow cleft in the rock above which let the sunlight filter in in sufficient quantities partially to dispel the utter darkness which i had expected. the cave was entirely empty, nor were there any signs of its having been recently occupied. the opening was comparatively small, so that after considerable effort i was able to lug up a bowlder from the valley below which entirely blocked it. then i returned again to the valley for an armful of grasses and on this trip was fortunate enough to knock over an orthopi, the diminutive horse of pellucidar, a little animal about the size of a fox terrier, which abounds in all parts of the inner world. thus, with food and bedding i returned to my lair, where after a meal of raw meat, to which i had now become quite accustomed, i dragged the bowlder before the entrance and curled myself upon a bed of grasses--a naked, primeval, cave man, as savagely primitive as my prehistoric progenitors. i awoke rested but hungry, and pushing the bowlder aside crawled out upon the little rocky shelf which was my front porch. before me spread a small but beautiful valley, through the center of which a clear and sparkling river wound its way down to an inland sea, the blue waters of which were just visible between the two mountain ranges which embraced this little paradise. the sides of the opposite hills were green with verdure, for a great forest clothed them to the foot of the red and yellow and copper green of the towering crags which formed their summit. the valley itself was carpeted with a luxuriant grass, while here and there patches of wild flowers made great splashes of vivid color against the prevailing green. dotted over the face of the valley were little clusters of palmlike trees--three or four together as a rule. beneath these stood antelope, while others grazed in the open, or wandered gracefully to a nearby ford to drink. there were several species of this beautiful animal, the most magnificent somewhat resembling the giant eland of africa, except that their spiral horns form a complete curve backward over their ears and then forward again beneath them, ending in sharp and formidable points some two feet before the face and above the eyes. in size they remind one of a pure bred hereford bull, yet they are very agile and fast. the broad yellow bands that stripe the dark roan of their coats made me take them for zebra when i first saw them. all in all they are handsome animals, and added the finishing touch to the strange and lovely landscape that spread before my new home. i had determined to make the cave my headquarters, and with it as a base make a systematic exploration of the surrounding country in search of the land of sari. first i devoured the remainder of the carcass of the orthopi i had killed before my last sleep. then i hid the great secret in a deep niche at the back of my cave, rolled the bowlder before my front door, and with bow, arrows, sword, and shield scrambled down into the peaceful valley. the grazing herds moved to one side as i passed through them, the little orthopi evincing the greatest wariness and galloping to safest distances. all the animals stopped feeding as i approached, and after moving to what they considered a safe distance stood contemplating me with serious eyes and up-cocked ears. once one of the old bull antelopes of the striped species lowered his head and bellowed angrily--even taking a few steps in my direction, so that i thought he meant to charge; but after i had passed, he resumed feeding as though nothing had disturbed him. near the lower end of the valley i passed a number of tapirs, and across the river saw a great sadok, the enormous double-horned progenitor of the modern rhinoceros. at the valley's end the cliffs upon the left ran out into the sea, so that to pass around them as i desired to do it was necessary to scale them in search of a ledge along which i might continue my journey. some fifty feet from the base i came upon a projection which formed a natural path along the face of the cliff, and this i followed out over the sea toward the cliff's end. here the ledge inclined rapidly upward toward the top of the cliffs--the stratum which formed it evidently having been forced up at this steep angle when the mountains behind it were born. as i climbed carefully up the ascent my attention suddenly was attracted aloft by the sound of strange hissing, and what resembled the flapping of wings. and at the first glance there broke upon my horrified vision the most frightful thing i had seen even within pellucidar. it was a giant dragon such as is pictured in the legends and fairy tales of earth folk. its huge body must have measured forty feet in length, while the bat-like wings that supported it in midair had a spread of fully thirty. its gaping jaws were armed with long, sharp teeth, and its claw equipped with horrible talons. the hissing noise which had first attracted my attention was issuing from its throat, and seemed to be directed at something beyond and below me which i could not see. the ledge upon which i stood terminated abruptly a few paces farther on, and as i reached the end i saw the cause of the reptile's agitation. some time in past ages an earthquake had produced a fault at this point, so that beyond the spot where i stood the strata had slipped down a matter of twenty feet. the result was that the continuation of my ledge lay twenty feet below me, where it ended as abruptly as did the end upon which i stood. and here, evidently halted in flight by this insurmountable break in the ledge, stood the object of the creature's attack--a girl cowering upon the narrow platform, her face buried in her arms, as though to shut out the sight of the frightful death which hovered just above her. the dragon was circling lower, and seemed about to dart in upon its prey. there was no time to be lost, scarce an instant in which to weigh the possible chances that i had against the awfully armed creature; but the sight of that frightened girl below me called out to all that was best in me, and the instinct for protection of the other sex, which nearly must have equaled the instinct of self-preservation in primeval man, drew me to the girl's side like an irresistible magnet. almost thoughtless of the consequences, i leaped from the end of the ledge upon which i stood, for the tiny shelf twenty feet below. at the same instant the dragon darted in toward the girl, but my sudden advent upon the scene must have startled him for he veered to one side, and then rose above us once more. the noise i made as i landed beside her convinced the girl that the end had come, for she thought i was the dragon; but finally when no cruel fangs closed upon her she raised her eyes in astonishment. as they fell upon me the expression that came into them would be difficult to describe; but her feelings could scarcely have been one whit more complicated than my own--for the wide eyes that looked into mine were those of dian the beautiful. "dian!" i cried. "dian! thank god that i came in time." "you?" she whispered, and then she hid her face again; nor could i tell whether she were glad or angry that i had come. once more the dragon was sweeping toward us, and so rapidly that i had no time to unsling my bow. all that i could do was to snatch up a rock, and hurl it at the thing's hideous face. again my aim was true, and with a hiss of pain and rage the reptile wheeled once more and soared away. quickly i fitted an arrow now that i might be ready at the next attack, and as i did so i looked down at the girl, so that i surprised her in a surreptitious glance which she was stealing at me; but immediately, she again covered her face with her hands. "look at me, dian," i pleaded. "are you not glad to see me?" she looked straight into my eyes. "i hate you," she said, and then, as i was about to beg for a fair hearing she pointed over my shoulder. "the thipdar comes," she said, and i turned again to meet the reptile. so this was a thipdar. i might have known it. the cruel bloodhound of the mahars. the long-extinct pterodactyl of the outer world. but this time i met it with a weapon it never had faced before. i had selected my longest arrow, and with all my strength had bent the bow until the very tip of the shaft rested upon the thumb of my left hand, and then as the great creature darted toward us i let drive straight for that tough breast. hissing like the escape valve of a steam engine, the mighty creature fell turning and twisting into the sea below, my arrow buried completely in its carcass. i turned toward the girl. she was looking past me. it was evident that she had seen the thipdar die. "dian," i said, "won't you tell me that you are not sorry that i have found you?" "i hate you," was her only reply; but i imagined that there was less vehemence in it than before--yet it might have been but my imagination. "why do you hate me, dian?" i asked, but she did not answer me. "what are you doing here?" i asked, "and what has happened to you since hooja freed you from the sagoths?" at first i thought that she was going to ignore me entirely, but finally she thought better of it. "i was again running away from jubal the ugly one," she said. "after i escaped from the sagoths i made my way alone back to my own land; but on account of jubal i did not dare enter the villages or let any of my friends know that i had returned for fear that jubal might find out. by watching for a long time i found that my brother had not yet returned, and so i continued to live in a cave beside a valley which my race seldom frequents, awaiting the time that he should come back and free me from jubal. "but at last one of jubal's hunters saw me as i was creeping toward my father's cave to see if my brother had yet returned and he gave the alarm and jubal set out after me. he has been pursuing me across many lands. he cannot be far behind me now. when he comes he will kill you and carry me back to his cave. he is a terrible man. i have gone as far as i can go, and there is no escape," and she looked hopelessly up at the continuation of the ledge twenty feet above us. "but he shall not have me," she suddenly cried, with great vehemence. "the sea is there"--she pointed over the edge of the cliff--"and the sea shall have me rather than jubal." "but i have you now dian," i cried; "nor shall jubal, nor any other have you, for you are mine," and i seized her hand, nor did i lift it above her head and let it fall in token of release. she had risen to her feet, and was looking straight into my eyes with level gaze. "i do not believe you," she said, "for if you meant it you would have done this when the others were present to witness it--then i should truly have been your mate; now there is no one to see you do it, for you know that without witnesses your act does not bind you to me," and she withdrew her hand from mine and turned away. i tried to convince her that i was sincere, but she simply couldn't forget the humiliation that i had put upon her on that other occasion. "if you mean all that you say you will have ample chance to prove it," she said, "if jubal does not catch and kill you. i am in your power, and the treatment you accord me will be the best proof of your intentions toward me. i am not your mate, and again i tell you that i hate you, and that i should be glad if i never saw you again." dian certainly was candid. there was no gainsaying that. in fact i found candor and directness to be quite a marked characteristic of the cave men of pellucidar. finally i suggested that we make some attempt to gain my cave, where we might escape the searching jubal, for i am free to admit that i had no considerable desire to meet the formidable and ferocious creature, of whose mighty prowess dian had told me when i first met her. he it was who, armed with a puny knife, had met and killed a cave bear in a hand-to-hand struggle. it was jubal who could cast his spear entirely through the armored carcass of the sadok at fifty paces. it was he who had crushed the skull of a charging dyryth with a single blow of his war club. no, i was not pining to meet the ugly one-and it was quite certain that i should not go out and hunt for him; but the matter was taken out of my hands very quickly, as is often the way, and i did meet jubal the ugly one face to face. this is how it happened. i had led dian back along the ledge the way she had come, searching for a path that would lead us to the top of the cliff, for i knew that we could then cross over to the edge of my own little valley, where i felt certain we should find a means of ingress from the cliff top. as we proceeded along the ledge i gave dian minute directions for finding my cave against the chance of something happening to me. i knew that she would be quite safely hidden away from pursuit once she gained the shelter of my lair, and the valley would afford her ample means of sustenance. also, i was very much piqued by her treatment of me. my heart was sad and heavy, and i wanted to make her feel badly by suggesting that something terrible might happen to me--that i might, in fact, be killed. but it didn't work worth a cent, at least as far as i could perceive. dian simply shrugged those magnificent shoulders of hers, and murmured something to the effect that one was not rid of trouble so easily as that. for a while i kept still. i was utterly squelched. and to think that i had twice protected her from attack--the last time risking my life to save hers. it was incredible that even a daughter of the stone age could be so ungrateful--so heartless; but maybe her heart partook of the qualities of her epoch. presently we found a rift in the cliff which had been widened and extended by the action of the water draining through it from the plateau above. it gave us a rather rough climb to the summit, but finally we stood upon the level mesa which stretched back for several miles to the mountain range. behind us lay the broad inland sea, curving upward in the horizonless distance to merge into the blue of the sky, so that for all the world it looked as though the sea lapped back to arch completely over us and disappear beyond the distant mountains at our backs--the weird and uncanny aspect of the seascapes of pellucidar balk description. at our right lay a dense forest, but to the left the country was open and clear to the plateau's farther verge. it was in this direction that our way led, and we had turned to resume our journey when dian touched my arm. i turned to her, thinking that she was about to make peace overtures; but i was mistaken. "jubal," she said, and nodded toward the forest. i looked, and there, emerging from the dense wood, came a perfect whale of a man. he must have been seven feet tall, and proportioned accordingly. he still was too far off to distinguish his features. "run," i said to dian. "i can engage him until you get a good start. maybe i can hold him until you have gotten entirely away," and then, without a backward glance, i advanced to meet the ugly one. i had hoped that dian would have a kind word to say to me before she went, for she must have known that i was going to my death for her sake; but she never even so much as bid me good-bye, and it was with a heavy heart that i strode through the flower-bespangled grass to my doom. when i had come close enough to jubal to distinguish his features i understood how it was that he had earned the sobriquet of ugly one. apparently some fearful beast had ripped away one entire side of his face. the eye was gone, the nose, and all the flesh, so that his jaws and all his teeth were exposed and grinning through the horrible scar. formerly he may have been as good to look upon as the others of his handsome race, and it may be that the terrible result of this encounter had tended to sour an already strong and brutal character. however this may be it is quite certain that he was not a pretty sight, and now that his features, or what remained of them, were distorted in rage at the sight of dian with another male, he was indeed most terrible to see--and much more terrible to meet. he had broken into a run now, and as he advanced he raised his mighty spear, while i halted and fitting an arrow to my bow took as steady aim as i could. i was somewhat longer than usual, for i must confess that the sight of this awful man had wrought upon my nerves to such an extent that my knees were anything but steady. what chance had i against this mighty warrior for whom even the fiercest cave bear had no terrors! could i hope to best one who slaughtered the sadok and dyryth single-handed! i shuddered; but, in fairness to myself, my fear was more for dian than for my own fate. and then the great brute launched his massive stone-tipped spear, and i raised my shield to break the force of its terrific velocity. the impact hurled me to my knees, but the shield had deflected the missile and i was unscathed. jubal was rushing upon me now with the only remaining weapon that he carried--a murderous-looking knife. he was too close for a careful bowshot, but i let drive at him as he came, without taking aim. my arrow pierced the fleshy part of his thigh, inflicting a painful but not disabling wound. and then he was upon me. my agility saved me for the instant. i ducked beneath his raised arm, and when he wheeled to come at me again he found a sword's point in his face. and a moment later he felt an inch or two of it in the muscles of his knife arm, so that thereafter he went more warily. it was a duel of strategy now--the great, hairy man maneuvering to get inside my guard where he could bring those giant thews to play, while my wits were directed to the task of keeping him at arm's length. thrice he rushed me, and thrice i caught his knife blow upon my shield. each time my sword found his body--once penetrating to his lung. he was covered with blood by this time, and the internal hemorrhage induced paroxysms of coughing that brought the red stream through the hideous mouth and nose, covering his face and breast with bloody froth. he was a most unlovely spectacle, but he was far from dead. as the duel continued i began to gain confidence, for, to be perfectly candid, i had not expected to survive the first rush of that monstrous engine of ungoverned rage and hatred. and i think that jubal, from utter contempt of me, began to change to a feeling of respect, and then in his primitive mind there evidently loomed the thought that perhaps at last he had met his master, and was facing his end. at any rate it is only upon this hypothesis that i can account for his next act, which was in the nature of a last resort--a sort of forlorn hope, which could only have been born of the belief that if he did not kill me quickly i should kill him. it happened on the occasion of his fourth charge, when, instead of striking at me with his knife, he dropped that weapon, and seizing my sword blade in both his hands wrenched the weapon from my grasp as easily as from a babe. flinging it far to one side he stood motionless for just an instant glaring into my face with such a horrid leer of malignant triumph as to almost unnerve me--then he sprang for me with his bare hands. but it was jubal's day to learn new methods of warfare. for the first time he had seen a bow and arrows, never before that duel had he beheld a sword, and now he learned what a man who knows may do with his bare fists. as he came for me, like a great bear, i ducked again beneath his outstretched arm, and as i came up planted as clean a blow upon his jaw as ever you have seen. down went that great mountain of flesh sprawling upon the ground. he was so surprised and dazed that he lay there for several seconds before he made any attempt to rise, and i stood over him with another dose ready when he should gain his knees. up he came at last, almost roaring in his rage and mortification; but he didn't stay up--i let him have a left fair on the point of the jaw that sent him tumbling over on his back. by this time i think jubal had gone mad with hate, for no sane man would have come back for more as many times as he did. time after time i bowled him over as fast as he could stagger up, until toward the last he lay longer on the ground between blows, and each time came up weaker than before. he was bleeding very profusely now from the wound in his lungs, and presently a terrific blow over the heart sent him reeling heavily to the ground, where he lay very still, and somehow i knew at once that jubal the ugly one would never get up again. but even as i looked upon that massive body lying there so grim and terrible in death, i could not believe that i, single-handed, had bested this slayer of fearful beasts--this gigantic ogre of the stone age. picking up my sword i leaned upon it, looking down on the dead body of my foeman, and as i thought of the battle i had just fought and won a great idea was born in my brain--the outcome of this and the suggestion that perry had made within the city of phutra. if skill and science could render a comparative pygmy the master of this mighty brute, what could not the brute's fellows accomplish with the same skill and science. why all pellucidar would be at their feet--and i would be their king and dian their queen. dian! a little wave of doubt swept over me. it was quite within the possibilities of dian to look down upon me even were i king. she was quite the most superior person i ever had met--with the most convincing way of letting you know that she was superior. well, i could go to the cave, and tell her that i had killed jubal, and then she might feel more kindly toward me, since i had freed her of her tormentor. i hoped that she had found the cave easily--it would be terrible had i lost her again, and i turned to gather up my shield and bow to hurry after her, when to my astonishment i found her standing not ten paces behind me. "girl!" i cried, "what are you doing here? i thought that you had gone to the cave, as i told you to do." up went her head, and the look that she gave me took all the majesty out of me, and left me feeling more like the palace janitor--if palaces have janitors. "as you told me to do!" she cried, stamping her little foot. "i do as i please. i am the daughter of a king, and furthermore, i hate you." i was dumbfounded--this was my thanks for saving her from jubal! i turned and looked at the corpse. "may be that i saved you from a worse fate, old man," i said, but i guess it was lost on dian, for she never seemed to notice it at all. "let us go to my cave," i said, "i am tired and hungry." she followed along a pace behind me, neither of us speaking. i was too angry, and she evidently didn't care to converse with the lower orders. i was mad all the way through, as i had certainly felt that at least a word of thanks should have rewarded me, for i knew that even by her own standards, i must have done a very wonderful thing to have killed the redoubtable jubal in a hand-to-hand encounter. we had no difficulty in finding my lair, and then i went down into the valley and bowled over a small antelope, which i dragged up the steep ascent to the ledge before the door. here we ate in silence. occasionally i glanced at her, thinking that the sight of her tearing at raw flesh with her hands and teeth like some wild animal would cause a revulsion of my sentiments toward her; but to my surprise i found that she ate quite as daintily as the most civilized woman of my acquaintance, and finally i found myself gazing in foolish rapture at the beauties of her strong, white teeth. such is love. after our repast we went down to the river together and bathed our hands and faces, and then after drinking our fill went back to the cave. without a word i crawled into the farthest corner and, curling up, was soon asleep. when i awoke i found dian sitting in the doorway looking out across the valley. as i came out she moved to one side to let me pass, but she had no word for me. i wanted to hate her, but i couldn't. every time i looked at her something came up in my throat, so that i nearly choked. i had never been in love before, but i did not need any aid in diagnosing my case--i certainly had it and had it bad. god, how i loved that beautiful, disdainful, tantalizing, prehistoric girl! after we had eaten again i asked dian if she intended returning to her tribe now that jubal was dead, but she shook her head sadly, and said that she did not dare, for there was still jubal's brother to be considered--his oldest brother. "what has he to do with it?" i asked. "does he too want you, or has the option on you become a family heirloom, to be passed on down from generation to generation?" she was not quite sure as to what i meant. "it is probable," she said, "that they all will want revenge for the death of jubal--there are seven of them--seven terrible men. someone may have to kill them all, if i am to return to my people." it began to look as though i had assumed a contract much too large for me--about seven sizes, in fact. "had jubal any cousins?" i asked. it was just as well to know the worst at once. "yes," replied dian, "but they don't count--they all have mates. jubal's brothers have no mates because jubal could get none for himself. he was so ugly that women ran away from him--some have even thrown themselves from the cliffs of amoz into the darel az rather than mate with the ugly one." "but what had that to do with his brothers?" i asked. "i forget that you are not of pellucidar," said dian, with a look of pity mixed with contempt, and the contempt seemed to be laid on a little thicker than the circumstance warranted--as though to make quite certain that i shouldn't overlook it. "you see," she continued, "a younger brother may not take a mate until all his older brothers have done so, unless the older brother waives his prerogative, which jubal would not do, knowing that as long as he kept them single they would be all the keener in aiding him to secure a mate." noticing that dian was becoming more communicative i began to entertain hopes that she might be warming up toward me a bit, although upon what slender thread i hung my hopes i soon discovered. "as you dare not return to amoz," i ventured, "what is to become of you since you cannot be happy here with me, hating me as you do?" "i shall have to put up with you," she replied coldly, "until you see fit to go elsewhere and leave me in peace, then i shall get along very well alone." i looked at her in utter amazement. it seemed incredible that even a prehistoric woman could be so cold and heartless and ungrateful. then i arose. "i shall leave you now," i said haughtily, "i have had quite enough of your ingratitude and your insults," and then i turned and strode majestically down toward the valley. i had taken a hundred steps in absolute silence, and then dian spoke. "i hate you!" she shouted, and her voice broke--in rage, i thought. i was absolutely miserable, but i hadn't gone too far when i began to realize that i couldn't leave her alone there without protection, to hunt her own food amid the dangers of that savage world. she might hate me, and revile me, and heap indignity after indignity upon me, as she already had, until i should have hated her; but the pitiful fact remained that i loved her, and i couldn't leave her there alone. the more i thought about it the madder i got, so that by the time i reached the valley i was furious, and the result of it was that i turned right around and went up that cliff again as fast as i had come down. i saw that dian had left the ledge and gone within the cave, but i bolted right in after her. she was lying upon her face on the pile of grasses i had gathered for her bed. when she heard me enter she sprang to her feet like a tigress. "i hate you!" she cried. coming from the brilliant light of the noonday sun into the semidarkness of the cave i could not see her features, and i was rather glad, for i disliked to think of the hate that i should have read there. i never said a word to her at first. i just strode across the cave and grasped her by the wrists, and when she struggled, i put my arm around her so as to pinion her hands to her sides. she fought like a tigress, but i took my free hand and pushed her head back--i imagine that i had suddenly turned brute, that i had gone back a thousand million years, and was again a veritable cave man taking my mate by force--and then i kissed that beautiful mouth again and again. "dian," i cried, shaking her roughly, "i love you. can't you understand that i love you? that i love you better than all else in this world or my own? that i am going to have you? that love like mine cannot be denied?" i noticed that she lay very still in my arms now, and as my eyes became accustomed to the light i saw that she was smiling--a very contented, happy smile. i was thunderstruck. then i realized that, very gently, she was trying to disengage her arms, and i loosened my grip upon them so that she could do so. slowly they came up and stole about my neck, and then she drew my lips down to hers once more and held them there for a long time. at last she spoke. "why didn't you do this at first, david? i have been waiting so long." "what!" i cried. "you said that you hated me!" "did you expect me to run into your arms, and say that i loved you before i knew that you loved me?" she asked. "but i have told you right along that i love you," i said. "love speaks in acts," she replied. "you could have made your mouth say what you wished it to say, but just now when you came and took me in your arms your heart spoke to mine in the language that a woman's heart understands. what a silly man you are, david?" "then you haven't hated me at all, dian?" i asked. "i have loved you always," she whispered, "from the first moment that i saw you, although i did not know it until that time you struck down hooja the sly one, and then spurned me." "but i didn't spurn you, dear," i cried. "i didn't know your ways--i doubt if i do now. it seems incredible that you could have reviled me so, and yet have cared for me all the time." "you might have known," she said, "when i did not run away from you that it was not hate which chained me to you. while you were battling with jubal, i could have run to the edge of the forest, and when i learned the outcome of the combat it would have been a simple thing to have eluded you and returned to my own people." "but jubal's brothers--and cousins--" i reminded her, "how about them?" she smiled, and hid her face on my shoulder. "i had to tell you something, david," she whispered. "i must needs have some excuse for remaining near you." "you little sinner!" i exclaimed. "and you have caused me all this anguish for nothing!" "i have suffered even more," she answered simply, "for i thought that you did not love me, and i was helpless. i couldn't come to you and demand that my love be returned, as you have just come to me. just now when you went away hope went with you. i was wretched, terrified, miserable, and my heart was breaking. i wept, and i have not done that before since my mother died," and now i saw that there was the moisture of tears about her eyes. it was near to making me cry myself when i thought of all that poor child had been through. motherless and unprotected; hunted across a savage, primeval world by that hideous brute of a man; exposed to the attacks of the countless fearsome denizens of its mountains, its plains, and its jungles--it was a miracle that she had survived it all. to me it was a revelation of the things my early forebears must have endured that the human race of the outer crust might survive. it made me very proud to think that i had won the love of such a woman. of course she couldn't read or write; there was nothing cultured or refined about her as you judge culture and refinement; but she was the essence of all that is best in woman, for she was good, and brave, and noble, and virtuous. and she was all these things in spite of the fact that their observance entailed suffering and danger and possible death. how much easier it would have been to have gone to jubal in the first place! she would have been his lawful mate. she would have been queen in her own land--and it meant just as much to the cave woman to be a queen in the stone age as it does to the woman of today to be a queen now; it's all comparative glory any way you look at it, and if there were only half-naked savages on the outer crust today, you'd find that it would be considerable glory to be the wife a dahomey chief. i couldn't help but compare dian's action with that of a splendid young woman i had known in new york--i mean splendid to look at and to talk to. she had been head over heels in love with a chum of mine--a clean, manly chap--but she had married a broken-down, disreputable old debauchee because he was a count in some dinky little european principality that was not even accorded a distinctive color by rand mcnally. yes, i was mighty proud of dian. after a time we decided to set out for sari, as i was anxious to see perry, and to know that all was right with him. i had told dian about our plan of emancipating the human race of pellucidar, and she was fairly wild over it. she said that if dacor, her brother, would only return he could easily be king of amoz, and that then he and ghak could form an alliance. that would give us a flying start, for the sarians and the amozites were both very powerful tribes. once they had been armed with swords, and bows and arrows, and trained in their use we were confident that they could overcome any tribe that seemed disinclined to join the great army of federated states with which we were planning to march upon the mahars. i explained the various destructive engines of war which perry and i could construct after a little experimentation--gunpowder, rifles, cannon, and the like, and dian would clap her hands, and throw her arms about my neck, and tell me what a wonderful thing i was. she was beginning to think that i was omnipotent although i really hadn't done anything but talk--but that is the way with women when they love. perry used to say that if a fellow was one-tenth as remarkable as his wife or mother thought him, he would have the world by the tail with a down-hill drag. the first time we started for sari i stepped into a nest of poisonous vipers before we reached the valley. a little fellow stung me on the ankle, and dian made me come back to the cave. she said that i mustn't exercise, or it might prove fatal--if it had been a full-grown snake that struck me she said, i wouldn't have moved a single pace from the nest--i'd have died in my tracks, so virulent is the poison. as it was i must have been laid up for quite a while, though dian's poultices of herbs and leaves finally reduced the swelling and drew out the poison. the episode proved most fortunate, however, as it gave me an idea which added a thousand-fold to the value of my arrows as missiles of offense and defense. as soon as i was able to be about again, i sought out some adult vipers of the species which had stung me, and having killed them, i extracted their virus, smearing it upon the tips of several arrows. later i shot a hyaenodon with one of these, and though my arrow inflicted but a superficial flesh wound the beast crumpled in death almost immediately after he was hit. we now set out once more for the land of the sarians, and it was with feelings of sincere regret that we bade good-bye to our beautiful garden of eden, in the comparative peace and harmony of which we had lived the happiest moments of our lives. how long we had been there i did not know, for as i have told you, time had ceased to exist for me beneath that eternal noonday sun--it may have been an hour, or a month of earthly time; i do not know. xv back to earth we crossed the river and passed through the mountains beyond, and finally we came out upon a great level plain which stretched away as far as the eye could reach. i cannot tell you in what direction it stretched even if you would care to know, for all the while that i was within pellucidar i never discovered any but local methods of indicating direction--there is no north, no south, no east, no west. up is about the only direction which is well defined, and that, of course, is down to you of the outer crust. since the sun neither rises nor sets there is no method of indicating direction beyond visible objects such as high mountains, forests, lakes, and seas. the plain which lies beyond the white cliffs which flank the darel az upon the shore nearest the mountains of the clouds is about as near to any direction as any pellucidarian can come. if you happen not to have heard of the darel az, or the white cliffs, or the mountains of the clouds you feel that there is something lacking, and long for the good old understandable northeast and southwest of the outer world. we had barely entered the great plain when we discovered two enormous animals approaching us from a great distance. so far were they that we could not distinguish what manner of beasts they might be, but as they came closer, i saw that they were enormous quadrupeds, eighty or a hundred feet long, with tiny heads perched at the top of very long necks. their heads must have been quite forty feet from the ground. the beasts moved very slowly--that is their action was slow--but their strides covered such a great distance that in reality they traveled considerably faster than a man walks. as they drew still nearer we discovered that upon the back of each sat a human being. then dian knew what they were, though she never before had seen one. "they are lidis from the land of the thorians," she cried. "thoria lies at the outer verge of the land of awful shadow. the thorians alone of all the races of pellucidar ride the lidi, for nowhere else than beside the dark country are they found." "what is the land of awful shadow?" i asked. "it is the land which lies beneath the dead world," replied dian; "the dead world which hangs forever between the sun and pellucidar above the land of awful shadow. it is the dead world which makes the great shadow upon this portion of pellucidar." i did not fully understand what she meant, nor am i sure that i do yet, for i have never been to that part of pellucidar from which the dead world is visible; but perry says that it is the moon of pellucidar--a tiny planet within a planet--and that it revolves around the earth's axis coincidently with the earth, and thus is always above the same spot within pellucidar. i remember that perry was very much excited when i told him about this dead world, for he seemed to think that it explained the hitherto inexplicable phenomena of nutation and the precession of the equinoxes. when the two upon the lidis had come quite close to us we saw that one was a man and the other a woman. the former had held up his two hands, palms toward us, in sign of peace, and i had answered him in kind, when he suddenly gave a cry of astonishment and pleasure, and slipping from his enormous mount ran forward toward dian, throwing his arms about her. in an instant i was white with jealousy, but only for an instant; since dian quickly drew the man toward me, telling him that i was david, her mate. "and this is my brother, dacor the strong one, david," she said to me. it appeared that the woman was dacor's mate. he had found none to his liking among the sari, nor farther on until he had come to the land of the thoria, and there he had found and fought for this very lovely thorian maiden whom he was bringing back to his own people. when they had heard our story and our plans they decided to accompany us to sari, that dacor and ghak might come to an agreement relative to an alliance, as dacor was quite as enthusiastic about the proposed annihilation of the mahars and sagoths as either dian or i. after a journey which was, for pellucidar, quite uneventful, we came to the first of the sarian villages which consists of between one and two hundred artificial caves cut into the face of a great cliff. here to our immense delight, we found both perry and ghak. the old man was quite overcome at sight of me for he had long since given me up as dead. when i introduced dian as my wife, he didn't quite know what to say, but he afterward remarked that with the pick of two worlds i could not have done better. ghak and dacor reached a very amicable arrangement, and it was at a council of the head men of the various tribes of the sari that the eventual form of government was tentatively agreed upon. roughly, the various kingdoms were to remain virtually independent, but there was to be one great overlord, or emperor. it was decided that i should be the first of the dynasty of the emperors of pellucidar. we set about teaching the women how to make bows and arrows, and poison pouches. the young men hunted the vipers which provided the virus, and it was they who mined the iron ore, and fashioned the swords under perry's direction. rapidly the fever spread from one tribe to another until representatives from nations so far distant that the sarians had never even heard of them came in to take the oath of allegiance which we required, and to learn the art of making the new weapons and using them. we sent our young men out as instructors to every nation of the federation, and the movement had reached colossal proportions before the mahars discovered it. the first intimation they had was when three of their great slave caravans were annihilated in rapid succession. they could not comprehend that the lower orders had suddenly developed a power which rendered them really formidable. in one of the skirmishes with slave caravans some of our sarians took a number of sagoth prisoners, and among them were two who had been members of the guards within the building where we had been confined at phutra. they told us that the mahars were frantic with rage when they discovered what had taken place in the cellars of the buildings. the sagoths knew that something very terrible had befallen their masters, but the mahars had been most careful to see that no inkling of the true nature of their vital affliction reached beyond their own race. how long it would take for the race to become extinct it was impossible even to guess; but that this must eventually happen seemed inevitable. the mahars had offered fabulous rewards for the capture of any one of us alive, and at the same time had threatened to inflict the direst punishment upon whomever should harm us. the sagoths could not understand these seemingly paradoxical instructions, though their purpose was quite evident to me. the mahars wanted the great secret, and they knew that we alone could deliver it to them. perry's experiments in the manufacture of gunpowder and the fashioning of rifles had not progressed as rapidly as we had hoped--there was a whole lot about these two arts which perry didn't know. we were both assured that the solution of these problems would advance the cause of civilization within pellucidar thousands of years at a single stroke. then there were various other arts and sciences which we wished to introduce, but our combined knowledge of them did not embrace the mechanical details which alone could render them of commercial, or practical value. "david," said perry, immediately after his latest failure to produce gunpowder that would even burn, "one of us must return to the outer world and bring back the information we lack. here we have all the labor and materials for reproducing anything that ever has been produced above--what we lack is knowledge. let us go back and get that knowledge in the shape of books--then this world will indeed be at our feet." and so it was decided that i should return in the prospector, which still lay upon the edge of the forest at the point where we had first penetrated to the surface of the inner world. dian would not listen to any arrangement for my going which did not include her, and i was not sorry that she wished to accompany me, for i wanted her to see my world, and i wanted my world to see her. with a large force of men we marched to the great iron mole, which perry soon had hoisted into position with its nose pointed back toward the outer crust. he went over all the machinery carefully. he replenished the air tanks, and manufactured oil for the engine. at last everything was ready, and we were about to set out when our pickets, a long, thin line of which had surrounded our camp at all times, reported that a great body of what appeared to be sagoths and mahars were approaching from the direction of phutra. dian and i were ready to embark, but i was anxious to witness the first clash between two fair-sized armies of the opposing races of pellucidar. i realized that this was to mark the historic beginning of a mighty struggle for possession of a world, and as the first emperor of pellucidar i felt that it was not alone my duty, but my right, to be in the thick of that momentous struggle. as the opposing army approached we saw that there were many mahars with the sagoth troops--an indication of the vast importance which the dominant race placed upon the outcome of this campaign, for it was not customary with them to take active part in the sorties which their creatures made for slaves--the only form of warfare which they waged upon the lower orders. ghak and dacor were both with us, having come primarily to view the prospector. i placed ghak with some of his sarians on the right of our battle line. dacor took the left, while i commanded the center. behind us i stationed a sufficient reserve under one of ghak's head men. the sagoths advanced steadily with menacing spears, and i let them come until they were within easy bowshot before i gave the word to fire. at the first volley of poison-tipped arrows the front ranks of the gorilla-men crumpled to the ground; but those behind charged over the prostrate forms of their comrades in a wild, mad rush to be upon us with their spears. a second volley stopped them for an instant, and then my reserve sprang through the openings in the firing line to engage them with sword and shield. the clumsy spears of the sagoths were no match for the swords of the sarian and amozite, who turned the spear thrusts aside with their shields and leaped to close quarters with their lighter, handier weapons. ghak took his archers along the enemy's flank, and while the swordsmen engaged them in front, he poured volley after volley into their unprotected left. the mahars did little real fighting, and were more in the way than otherwise, though occasionally one of them would fasten its powerful jaw upon the arm or leg of a sarian. the battle did not last a great while, for when dacor and i led our men in upon the sagoth's right with naked swords they were already so demoralized that they turned and fled before us. we pursued them for some time, taking many prisoners and recovering nearly a hundred slaves, among whom was hooja the sly one. he told me that he had been captured while on his way to his own land; but that his life had been spared in hope that through him the mahars would learn the whereabouts of their great secret. ghak and i were inclined to think that the sly one had been guiding this expedition to the land of sari, where he thought that the book might be found in perry's possession; but we had no proof of this and so we took him in and treated him as one of us, although none liked him. and how he rewarded my generosity you will presently learn. there were a number of mahars among our prisoners, and so fearful were our own people of them that they would not approach them unless completely covered from the sight of the reptiles by a piece of skin. even dian shared the popular superstition regarding the evil effects of exposure to the eyes of angry mahars, and though i laughed at her fears i was willing enough to humor them if it would relieve her apprehension in any degree, and so she sat apart from the prospector, near which the mahars had been chained, while perry and i again inspected every portion of the mechanism. at last i took my place in the driving seat, and called to one of the men without to fetch dian. it happened that hooja stood quite close to the doorway of the prospector, so that it was he who, without my knowledge, went to bring her; but how he succeeded in accomplishing the fiendish thing he did, i cannot guess, unless there were others in the plot to aid him. nor can i believe that, since all my people were loyal to me and would have made short work of hooja had he suggested the heartless scheme, even had he had time to acquaint another with it. it was all done so quickly that i may only believe that it was the result of sudden impulse, aided by a number of, to hooja, fortuitous circumstances occurring at precisely the right moment. all i know is that it was hooja who brought dian to the prospector, still wrapped from head to toe in the skin of an enormous cave lion which covered her since the mahar prisoners had been brought into camp. he deposited his burden in the seat beside me. i was all ready to get under way. the good-byes had been said. perry had grasped my hand in the last, long farewell. i closed and barred the outer and inner doors, took my seat again at the driving mechanism, and pulled the starting lever. as before on that far-gone night that had witnessed our first trial of the iron monster, there was a frightful roaring beneath us--the giant frame trembled and vibrated--there was a rush of sound as the loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. once more the thing was off. but on the instant of departure i was nearly thrown from my seat by the sudden lurching of the prospector. at first i did not realize what had happened, but presently it dawned upon me that just before entering the crust the towering body had fallen through its supporting scaffolding, and that instead of entering the ground vertically we were plunging into it at a different angle. where it would bring us out upon the upper crust i could not even conjecture. and then i turned to note the effect of this strange experience upon dian. she still sat shrouded in the great skin. "come, come," i cried, laughing, "come out of your shell. no mahar eyes can reach you here," and i leaned over and snatched the lion skin from her. and then i shrank back upon my seat in utter horror. the thing beneath the skin was not dian--it was a hideous mahar. instantly i realized the trick that hooja had played upon me, and the purpose of it. rid of me, forever as he doubtless thought, dian would be at his mercy. frantically i tore at the steering wheel in an effort to turn the prospector back toward pellucidar; but, as on that other occasion, i could not budge the thing a hair. it is needless to recount the horrors or the monotony of that journey. it varied but little from the former one which had brought us from the outer to the inner world. because of the angle at which we had entered the ground the trip required nearly a day longer, and brought me out here upon the sand of the sahara instead of in the united states as i had hoped. for months i have been waiting here for a white man to come. i dared not leave the prospector for fear i should never be able to find it again--the shifting sands of the desert would soon cover it, and then my only hope of returning to my dian and her pellucidar would be gone forever. that i ever shall see her again seems but remotely possible, for how may i know upon what part of pellucidar my return journey may terminate--and how, without a north or south or an east or a west may i hope ever to find my way across that vast world to the tiny spot where my lost love lies grieving for me? that is the story as david innes told it to me in the goat-skin tent upon the rim of the great sahara desert. the next day he took me out to see the prospector--it was precisely as he had described it. so huge was it that it could have been brought to this inaccessible part of the world by no means of transportation that existed there--it could only have come in the way that david innes said it came--up through the crust of the earth from the inner world of pellucidar. i spent a week with him, and then, abandoned my lion hunt, returned directly to the coast and hurried to london where i purchased a great quantity of stuff which he wished to take back to pellucidar with him. there were books, rifles, revolvers, ammunition, cameras, chemicals, telephones, telegraph instruments, wire, tool and more books--books upon every subject under the sun. he said he wanted a library with which they could reproduce the wonders of the twentieth century in the stone age and if quantity counts for anything i got it for him. i took the things back to algeria myself, and accompanied them to the end of the railroad; but from here i was recalled to america upon important business. however, i was able to employ a very trustworthy man to take charge of the caravan--the same guide, in fact, who had accompanied me on the previous trip into the sahara--and after writing a long letter to innes in which i gave him my american address, i saw the expedition head south. among the other things which i sent to innes was over five hundred miles of double, insulated wire of a very fine gauge. i had it packed on a special reel at his suggestion, as it was his idea that he could fasten one end here before he left and by paying it out through the end of the prospector lay a telegraph line between the outer and inner worlds. in my letter i told him to be sure to mark the terminus of the line very plainly with a high cairn, in case i was not able to reach him before he set out, so that i might easily find and communicate with him should he be so fortunate as to reach pellucidar. i received several letters from him after i returned to america--in fact he took advantage of every northward-passing caravan to drop me word of some sort. his last letter was written the day before he intended to depart. here it is. my dear friend: tomorrow i shall set out in quest of pellucidar and dian. that is if the arabs don't get me. they have been very nasty of late. i don't know the cause, but on two occasions they have threatened my life. one, more friendly than the rest, told me today that they intended attacking me tonight. it would be unfortunate should anything of that sort happen now that i am so nearly ready to depart. however, maybe i will be as well off, for the nearer the hour approaches, the slenderer my chances for success appear. here is the friendly arab who is to take this letter north for me, so good-bye, and god bless you for your kindness to me. the arab tells me to hurry, for he sees a cloud of sand to the south--he thinks it is the party coming to murder me, and he doesn't want to be found with me. so good-bye again. yours, david innes. a year later found me at the end of the railroad once more, headed for the spot where i had left innes. my first disappointment was when i discovered that my old guide had died within a few weeks of my return, nor could i find any member of my former party who could lead me to the same spot. for months i searched that scorching land, interviewing countless desert sheiks in the hope that at last i might find one who had heard of innes and his wonderful iron mole. constantly my eyes scanned the blinding waste of sand for the ricky cairn beneath which i was to find the wires leading to pellucidar--but always was i unsuccessful. and always do these awful questions harass me when i think of david innes and his strange adventures. did the arabs murder him, after all, just on the eve of his departure? or, did he again turn the nose of his iron monster toward the inner world? did he reach it, or lies he somewhere buried in the heart of the great crust? and if he did come again to pellucidar was it to break through into the bottom of one of her great island seas, or among some savage race far, far from the land of his heart's desire? does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad sahara, at the end of two tiny wires, hidden beneath a lost cairn? i wonder. pellucidar by edgar rice burroughs contents chapter prologue i lost on pellucidar ii traveling with terror iii shooting the chutes--and after iv friendship and treachery v surprises vi a pendent world vii from plight to plight viii captive ix hooja's cutthroats appear x the raid on the cave-prison xi escape xii kidnaped! xiii racing for life xiv gore and dreams xv conquest and peace prologue several years had elapsed since i had found the opportunity to do any big-game hunting; for at last i had my plans almost perfected for a return to my old stamping-grounds in northern africa, where in other days i had had excellent sport in pursuit of the king of beasts. the date of my departure had been set; i was to leave in two weeks. no schoolboy counting the lagging hours that must pass before the beginning of "long vacation" released him to the delirious joys of the summer camp could have been filled with greater impatience or keener anticipation. and then came a letter that started me for africa twelve days ahead of my schedule. often am i in receipt of letters from strangers who have found something in a story of mine to commend or to condemn. my interest in this department of my correspondence is ever fresh. i opened this particular letter with all the zest of pleasurable anticipation with which i had opened so many others. the post-mark (algiers) had aroused my interest and curiosity, especially at this time, since it was algiers that was presently to witness the termination of my coming sea voyage in search of sport and adventure. before the reading of that letter was completed lions and lion-hunting had fled my thoughts, and i was in a state of excitement bordering upon frenzy. it--well, read it yourself, and see if you, too, do not find food for frantic conjecture, for tantalizing doubts, and for a great hope. here it is: dear sir: i think that i have run across one of the most remarkable coincidences in modern literature. but let me start at the beginning: i am, by profession, a wanderer upon the face of the earth. i have no trade--nor any other occupation. my father bequeathed me a competency; some remoter ancestors lust to roam. i have combined the two and invested them carefully and without extravagance. i became interested in your story, at the earth's core, not so much because of the probability of the tale as of a great and abiding wonder that people should be paid real money for writing such impossible trash. you will pardon my candor, but it is necessary that you understand my mental attitude toward this particular story--that you may credit that which follows. shortly thereafter i started for the sahara in search of a rather rare species of antelope that is to be found only occasionally within a limited area at a certain season of the year. my chase led me far from the haunts of man. it was a fruitless search, however, in so far as antelope is concerned; but one night as i lay courting sleep at the edge of a little cluster of date-palms that surround an ancient well in the midst of the arid, shifting sands, i suddenly became conscious of a strange sound coming apparently from the earth beneath my head. it was an intermittent ticking! no reptile or insect with which i am familiar reproduces any such notes. i lay for an hour--listening intently. at last my curiosity got the better of me. i arose, lighted my lamp and commenced to investigate. my bedding lay upon a rug stretched directly upon the warm sand. the noise appeared to be coming from beneath the rug. i raised it, but found nothing--yet, at intervals, the sound continued. i dug into the sand with the point of my hunting-knife. a few inches below the surface of the sand i encountered a solid substance that had the feel of wood beneath the sharp steel. excavating about it, i unearthed a small wooden box. from this receptacle issued the strange sound that i had heard. how had it come here? what did it contain? in attempting to lift it from its burying place i discovered that it seemed to be held fast by means of a very small insulated cable running farther into the sand beneath it. my first impulse was to drag the thing loose by main strength; but fortunately i thought better of this and fell to examining the box. i soon saw that it was covered by a hinged lid, which was held closed by a simple screwhook and eye. it took but a moment to loosen this and raise the cover, when, to my utter astonishment, i discovered an ordinary telegraph instrument clicking away within. "what in the world," thought i, "is this thing doing here?" that it was a french military instrument was my first guess; but really there didn't seem much likelihood that this was the correct explanation, when one took into account the loneliness and remoteness of the spot. as i sat gazing at my remarkable find, which was ticking and clicking away there in the silence of the desert night, trying to convey some message which i was unable to interpret, my eyes fell upon a bit of paper lying in the bottom of the box beside the instrument. i picked it up and examined it. upon it were written but two letters: d. i. they meant nothing to me then. i was baffled. once, in an interval of silence upon the part of the receiving instrument, i moved the sending-key up and down a few times. instantly the receiving mechanism commenced to work frantically. i tried to recall something of the morse code, with which i had played as a little boy--but time had obliterated it from my memory. i became almost frantic as i let my imagination run riot among the possibilities for which this clicking instrument might stand. some poor devil at the unknown other end might be in dire need of succor. the very franticness of the instrument's wild clashing betokened something of the kind. and there sat i, powerless to interpret, and so powerless to help! it was then that the inspiration came to me. in a flash there leaped to my mind the closing paragraphs of the story i had read in the club at algiers: does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad sahara, at the ends of two tiny wires, hidden beneath a lost cairn? the idea seemed preposterous. experience and intelligence combined to assure me that there could be no slightest grain of truth or possibility in your wild tale--it was fiction pure and simple. and yet where were the other ends of those wires? what was this instrument--ticking away here in the great sahara--but a travesty upon the possible! would i have believed in it had i not seen it with my own eyes? and the initials--d. i.--upon the slip of paper! david's initials were these--david innes. i smiled at my imaginings. i ridiculed the assumption that there was an inner world and that these wires led downward through the earth's crust to the surface of pellucidar. and yet-- well, i sat there all night, listening to that tantalizing clicking, now and then moving the sending-key just to let the other end know that the instrument had been discovered. in the morning, after carefully returning the box to its hole and covering it over with sand, i called my servants about me, snatched a hurried breakfast, mounted my horse, and started upon a forced march for algiers. i arrived here today. in writing you this letter i feel that i am making a fool of myself. there is no david innes. there is no dian the beautiful. there is no world within a world. pellucidar is but a realm of your imagination--nothing more. but-- the incident of the finding of that buried telegraph instrument upon the lonely sahara is little short of uncanny, in view of your story of the adventures of david innes. i have called it one of the most remarkable coincidences in modern fiction. i called it literature before, but--again pardon my candor--your story is not. and now--why am i writing you? heaven knows, unless it is that the persistent clicking of that unfathomable enigma out there in the vast silences of the sahara has so wrought upon my nerves that reason refuses longer to function sanely. i cannot hear it now, yet i know that far away to the south, all alone beneath the sands, it is still pounding out its vain, frantic appeal. it is maddening. it is your fault--i want you to release me from it. cable me at once, at my expense, that there was no basis of fact for your story, at the earth's core. very respectfully yours, cogdon nestor, ---- and ---- club, algiers. june st, --. ten minutes after reading this letter i had cabled mr. nestor as follows: story true. await me algiers. as fast as train and boat would carry me, i sped toward my destination. for all those dragging days my mind was a whirl of mad conjecture, of frantic hope, of numbing fear. the finding of the telegraph-instrument practically assured me that david innes had driven perry's iron mole back through the earth's crust to the buried world of pellucidar; but what adventures had befallen him since his return? had he found dian the beautiful, his half-savage mate, safe among his friends, or had hooja the sly one succeeded in his nefarious schemes to abduct her? did abner perry, the lovable old inventor and paleontologist, still live? had the federated tribes of pellucidar succeeded in overthrowing the mighty mahars, the dominant race of reptilian monsters, and their fierce, gorilla-like soldiery, the savage sagoths? i must admit that i was in a state bordering upon nervous prostration when i entered the ---- and ---- club, in algiers, and inquired for mr. nestor. a moment later i was ushered into his presence, to find myself clasping hands with the sort of chap that the world holds only too few of. he was a tall, smooth-faced man of about thirty, clean-cut, straight, and strong, and weather-tanned to the hue of a desert arab. i liked him immensely from the first, and i hope that after our three months together in the desert country--three months not entirely lacking in adventure--he found that a man may be a writer of "impossible trash" and yet have some redeeming qualities. the day following my arrival at algiers we left for the south, nestor having made all arrangements in advance, guessing, as he naturally did, that i could be coming to africa for but a single purpose--to hasten at once to the buried telegraph-instrument and wrest its secret from it. in addition to our native servants, we took along an english telegraph-operator named frank downes. nothing of interest enlivened our journey by rail and caravan till we came to the cluster of date-palms about the ancient well upon the rim of the sahara. it was the very spot at which i first had seen david innes. if he had ever raised a cairn above the telegraph instrument no sign of it remained now. had it not been for the chance that caused cogdon nestor to throw down his sleeping rug directly over the hidden instrument, it might still be clicking there unheard--and this story still unwritten. when we reached the spot and unearthed the little box the instrument was quiet, nor did repeated attempts upon the part of our telegrapher succeed in winning a response from the other end of the line. after several days of futile endeavor to raise pellucidar, we had begun to despair. i was as positive that the other end of that little cable protruded through the surface of the inner world as i am that i sit here today in my study--when about midnight of the fourth day i was awakened by the sound of the instrument. leaping to my feet i grasped downes roughly by the neck and dragged him out of his blankets. he didn't need to be told what caused my excitement, for the instant he was awake he, too, heard the long-hoped for click, and with a whoop of delight pounced upon the instrument. nestor was on his feet almost as soon as i. the three of us huddled about that little box as if our lives depended upon the message it had for us. downes interrupted the clicking with his sending-key. the noise of the receiver stopped instantly. "ask who it is, downes," i directed. he did so, and while we awaited the englishman's translation of the reply, i doubt if either nestor or i breathed. "he says he's david innes," said downes. "he wants to know who we are." "tell him," said i; "and that we want to know how he is--and all that has befallen him since i last saw him." for two months i talked with david innes almost every day, and as downes translated, either nestor or i took notes. from these, arranged in chronological order, i have set down the following account of the further adventures of david innes at the earth's core, practically in his own words. chapter i lost on pellucidar the arabs, of whom i wrote you at the end of my last letter (innes began), and whom i thought to be enemies intent only upon murdering me, proved to be exceedingly friendly--they were searching for the very band of marauders that had threatened my existence. the huge rhamphorhynchus-like reptile that i had brought back with me from the inner world--the ugly mahar that hooja the sly one had substituted for my dear dian at the moment of my departure--filled them with wonder and with awe. nor less so did the mighty subterranean prospector which had carried me to pellucidar and back again, and which lay out in the desert about two miles from my camp. with their help i managed to get the unwieldy tons of its great bulk into a vertical position--the nose deep in a hole we had dug in the sand and the rest of it supported by the trunks of date-palms cut for the purpose. it was a mighty engineering job with only wild arabs and their wilder mounts to do the work of an electric crane--but finally it was completed, and i was ready for departure. for some time i hesitated to take the mahar back with me. she had been docile and quiet ever since she had discovered herself virtually a prisoner aboard the "iron mole." it had been, of course, impossible for me to communicate with her since she had no auditory organs and i no knowledge of her fourth-dimension, sixth-sense method of communication. naturally i am kind-hearted, and so i found it beyond me to leave even this hateful and repulsive thing alone in a strange and hostile world. the result was that when i entered the iron mole i took her with me. that she knew that we were about to return to pellucidar was evident, for immediately her manner changed from that of habitual gloom that had pervaded her, to an almost human expression of contentment and delight. our trip through the earth's crust was but a repetition of my two former journeys between the inner and the outer worlds. this time, however, i imagine that we must have maintained a more nearly perpendicular course, for we accomplished the journey in a few minutes' less time than upon the occasion of my first journey through the five-hundred-mile crust. just a trifle less than seventy-two hours after our departure into the sands of the sahara, we broke through the surface of pellucidar. fortune once again favored me by the slightest of margins, for when i opened the door in the prospector's outer jacket i saw that we had missed coming up through the bottom of an ocean by but a few hundred yards. the aspect of the surrounding country was entirely unfamiliar to me--i had no conception of precisely where i was upon the one hundred and twenty-four million square miles of pellucidar's vast land surface. the perpetual midday sun poured down its torrid rays from zenith, as it had done since the beginning of pellucidarian time--as it would continue to do to the end of it. before me, across the wide sea, the weird, horizonless seascape folded gently upward to meet the sky until it lost itself to view in the azure depths of distance far above the level of my eyes. how strange it looked! how vastly different from the flat and puny area of the circumscribed vision of the dweller upon the outer crust! i was lost. though i wandered ceaselessly throughout a lifetime, i might never discover the whereabouts of my former friends of this strange and savage world. never again might i see dear old perry, nor ghak the hairy one, nor dacor the strong one, nor that other infinitely precious one--my sweet and noble mate, dian the beautiful! but even so i was glad to tread once more the surface of pellucidar. mysterious and terrible, grotesque and savage though she is in many of her aspects, i can not but love her. her very savagery appealed to me, for it is the savagery of unspoiled nature. the magnificence of her tropic beauties enthralled me. her mighty land areas breathed unfettered freedom. her untracked oceans, whispering of virgin wonders unsullied by the eye of man, beckoned me out upon their restless bosoms. not for an instant did i regret the world of my nativity. i was in pellucidar. i was home. and i was content. as i stood dreaming beside the giant thing that had brought me safely through the earth's crust, my traveling companion, the hideous mahar, emerged from the interior of the prospector and stood beside me. for a long time she remained motionless. what thoughts were passing through the convolutions of her reptilian brain? i do not know. she was a member of the dominant race of pellucidar. by a strange freak of evolution her kind had first developed the power of reason in that world of anomalies. to her, creatures such as i were of a lower order. as perry had discovered among the writings of her kind in the buried city of phutra, it was still an open question among the mahars as to whether man possessed means of intelligent communication or the power of reason. her kind believed that in the center of all-pervading solidity there was a single, vast, spherical cavity, which was pellucidar. this cavity had been left there for the sole purpose of providing a place for the creation and propagation of the mahar race. everything within it had been put there for the uses of the mahar. i wondered what this particular mahar might think now. i found pleasure in speculating upon just what the effect had been upon her of passing through the earth's crust, and coming out into a world that one of even less intelligence than the great mahars could easily see was a different world from her own pellucidar. what had she thought of the outer world's tiny sun? what had been the effect upon her of the moon and myriad stars of the clear african nights? how had she explained them? with what sensations of awe must she first have watched the sun moving slowly across the heavens to disappear at last beneath the western horizon, leaving in his wake that which the mahar had never before witnessed--the darkness of night? for upon pellucidar there is no night. the stationary sun hangs forever in the center of the pellucidarian sky--directly overhead. then, too, she must have been impressed by the wondrous mechanism of the prospector which had bored its way from world to world and back again. and that it had been driven by a rational being must also have occurred to her. too, she had seen me conversing with other men upon the earth's surface. she had seen the arrival of the caravan of books and arms, and ammunition, and the balance of the heterogeneous collection which i had crammed into the cabin of the iron mole for transportation to pellucidar. she had seen all these evidences of a civilization and brain-power transcending in scientific achievement anything that her race had produced; nor once had she seen a creature of her own kind. there could have been but a single deduction in the mind of the mahar--there were other worlds than pellucidar, and the gilak was a rational being. now the creature at my side was creeping slowly toward the near-by sea. at my hip hung a long-barreled six-shooter--somehow i had been unable to find the same sensation of security in the newfangled automatics that had been perfected since my first departure from the outer world--and in my hand was a heavy express rifle. i could have shot the mahar with ease, for i knew intuitively that she was escaping--but i did not. i felt that if she could return to her own kind with the story of her adventures, the position of the human race within pellucidar would be advanced immensely at a single stride, for at once man would take his proper place in the considerations of the reptilia. at the edge of the sea the creature paused and looked back at me. then she slid sinuously into the surf. for several minutes i saw no more of her as she luxuriated in the cool depths. then a hundred yards from shore she rose and there for another short while she floated upon the surface. finally she spread her giant wings, flapped them vigorously a score of times and rose above the blue sea. a single time she circled far aloft--and then straight as an arrow she sped away. i watched her until the distant haze enveloped her and she had disappeared. i was alone. my first concern was to discover where within pellucidar i might be-and in what direction lay the land of the sarians where ghak the hairy one ruled. but how was i to guess in which direction lay sari? and if i set out to search--what then? could i find my way back to the prospector with its priceless freight of books, firearms, ammunition, scientific instruments, and still more books--its great library of reference works upon every conceivable branch of applied sciences? and if i could not, of what value was all this vast storehouse of potential civilization and progress to be to the world of my adoption? upon the other hand, if i remained here alone with it, what could i accomplish single-handed? nothing. but where there was no east, no west, no north, no south, no stars, no moon, and only a stationary midday sun, how was i to find my way back to this spot should ever i get out of sight of it? i didn't know. for a long time i stood buried in deep thought, when it occurred to me to try out one of the compasses i had brought and ascertain if it remained steadily fixed upon an unvarying pole. i reentered the prospector and fetched a compass without. moving a considerable distance from the prospector that the needle might not be influenced by its great bulk of iron and steel i turned the delicate instrument about in every direction. always and steadily the needle remained rigidly fixed upon a point straight out to sea, apparently pointing toward a large island some ten or twenty miles distant. this then should be north. i drew my note-book from my pocket and made a careful topographical sketch of the locality within the range of my vision. due north lay the island, far out upon the shimmering sea. the spot i had chosen for my observations was the top of a large, flat boulder which rose six or eight feet above the turf. this spot i called greenwich. the boulder was the "royal observatory." i had made a start! i cannot tell you what a sense of relief was imparted to me by the simple fact that there was at least one spot within pellucidar with a familiar name and a place upon a map. it was with almost childish joy that i made a little circle in my note-book and traced the word greenwich beside it. now i felt i might start out upon my search with some assurance of finding my way back again to the prospector. i decided that at first i would travel directly south in the hope that i might in that direction find some familiar landmark. it was as good a direction as any. this much at least might be said of it. among the many other things i had brought from the outer world were a number of pedometers. i slipped three of these into my pockets with the idea that i might arrive at a more or less accurate mean from the registrations of them all. on my map i would register so many paces south, so many east, so many west, and so on. when i was ready to return i would then do so by any route that i might choose. i also strapped a considerable quantity of ammunition across my shoulders, pocketed some matches, and hooked an aluminum fry-pan and a small stew-kettle of the same metal to my belt. i was ready--ready to go forth and explore a world! ready to search a land area of , , square miles for my friends, my incomparable mate, and good old perry! and so, after locking the door in the outer shell of the prospector, i set out upon my quest. due south i traveled, across lovely valleys thick-dotted with grazing herds. through dense primeval forests i forced my way and up the slopes of mighty mountains searching for a pass to their farther sides. ibex and musk-sheep fell before my good old revolver, so that i lacked not for food in the higher altitudes. the forests and the plains gave plentifully of fruits and wild birds, antelope, aurochsen, and elk. occasionally, for the larger game animals and the gigantic beasts of prey, i used my express rifle, but for the most part the revolver filled all my needs. there were times, too, when faced by a mighty cave bear, a saber-toothed tiger, or huge felis spelaea, black-maned and terrible, even my powerful rifle seemed pitifully inadequate--but fortune favored me so that i passed unscathed through adventures that even the recollection of causes the short hairs to bristle at the nape of my neck. how long i wandered toward the south i do not know, for shortly after i left the prospector something went wrong with my watch, and i was again at the mercy of the baffling timelessness of pellucidar, forging steadily ahead beneath the great, motionless sun which hangs eternally at noon. i ate many times, however, so that days must have elapsed, possibly months with no familiar landscape rewarding my eager eyes. i saw no men nor signs of men. nor is this strange, for pellucidar, in its land area, is immense, while the human race there is very young and consequently far from numerous. doubtless upon that long search mine was the first human foot to touch the soil in many places--mine the first human eye to rest upon the gorgeous wonders of the landscape. it was a staggering thought. i could not but dwell upon it often as i made my lonely way through this virgin world. then, quite suddenly, one day i stepped out of the peace of manless primality into the presence of man--and peace was gone. it happened thus: i had been following a ravine downward out of a chain of lofty hills and had paused at its mouth to view the lovely little valley that lay before me. at one side was tangled wood, while straight ahead a river wound peacefully along parallel to the cliffs in which the hills terminated at the valley's edge. presently, as i stood enjoying the lovely scene, as insatiate for nature's wonders as if i had not looked upon similar landscapes countless times, a sound of shouting broke from the direction of the woods. that the harsh, discordant notes rose from the throats of men i could not doubt. i slipped behind a large boulder near the mouth of the ravine and waited. i could hear the crashing of underbrush in the forest, and i guessed that whoever came came quickly--pursued and pursuers, doubtless. in a short time some hunted animal would break into view, and a moment later a score of half-naked savages would come leaping after with spears or club or great stone-knives. i had seen the thing so many times during my life within pellucidar that i felt that i could anticipate to a nicety precisely what i was about to witness. i hoped that the hunters would prove friendly and be able to direct me toward sari. even as i was thinking these thoughts the quarry emerged from the forest. but it was no terrified four-footed beast. instead, what i saw was an old man--a terrified old man! staggering feebly and hopelessly from what must have been some very terrible fate, if one could judge from the horrified expressions he continually cast behind him toward the wood, he came stumbling on in my direction. he had covered but a short distance from the forest when i beheld the first of his pursuers--a sagoth, one of those grim and terrible gorilla-men who guard the mighty mahars in their buried cities, faring forth from time to time upon slave-raiding or punitive expeditions against the human race of pellucidar, of whom the dominant race of the inner world think as we think of the bison or the wild sheep of our own world. close behind the foremost sagoth came others until a full dozen raced, shouting after the terror-stricken old man. they would be upon him shortly, that was plain. one of them was rapidly overhauling him, his back-thrown spear-arm testifying to his purpose. and then, quite with the suddenness of an unexpected blow, i realized a past familiarity with the gait and carriage of the fugitive. simultaneously there swept over me the staggering fact that the old man was--perry! that he was about to die before my very eyes with no hope that i could reach him in time to avert the awful catastrophe--for to me it meant a real catastrophe! perry was my best friend. dian, of course, i looked upon as more than friend. she was my mate--a part of me. i had entirely forgotten the rifle in my hand and the revolvers at my belt; one does not readily synchronize his thoughts with the stone age and the twentieth century simultaneously. now from past habit i still thought in the stone age, and in my thoughts of the stone age there were no thoughts of firearms. the fellow was almost upon perry when the feel of the gun in my hand awoke me from the lethargy of terror that had gripped me. from behind my boulder i threw up the heavy express rifle--a mighty engine of destruction that might bring down a cave bear or a mammoth at a single shot--and let drive at the sagoth's broad, hairy breast. at the sound of the shot he stopped stock-still. his spear dropped from his hand. then he lunged forward upon his face. the effect upon the others was little less remarkable. perry alone could have possibly guessed the meaning of the loud report or explained its connection with the sudden collapse of the sagoth. the other gorilla-men halted for but an instant. then with renewed shrieks of rage they sprang forward to finish perry. at the same time i stepped from behind my boulder, drawing one of my revolvers that i might conserve the more precious ammunition of the express rifle. quickly i fired again with the lesser weapon. then it was that all eyes were directed toward me. another sagoth fell to the bullet from the revolver; but it did not stop his companions. they were out for revenge as well as blood now, and they meant to have both. as i ran forward toward perry i fired four more shots, dropping three of our antagonists. then at last the remaining seven wavered. it was too much for them, this roaring death that leaped, invisible, upon them from a great distance. as they hesitated i reached perry's side. i have never seen such an expression upon any man's face as that upon perry's when he recognized me. i have no words wherewith to describe it. there was not time to talk then--scarce for a greeting. i thrust the full, loaded revolver into his hand, fired the last shot in my own, and reloaded. there were but six sagoths left then. they started toward us once more, though i could see that they were terrified probably as much by the noise of the guns as by their effects. they never reached us. half-way the three that remained turned and fled, and we let them go. the last we saw of them they were disappearing into the tangled undergrowth of the forest. and then perry turned and threw his arms about my neck and, burying his old face upon my shoulder, wept like a child. chapter ii traveling with terror we made camp there beside the peaceful river. there perry told me all that had befallen him since i had departed for the outer crust. it seemed that hooja had made it appear that i had intentionally left dian behind, and that i did not purpose ever returning to pellucidar. he told them that i was of another world and that i had tired of this and of its inhabitants. to dian he had explained that i had a mate in the world to which i was returning; that i had never intended taking dian the beautiful back with me; and that she had seen the last of me. shortly afterward dian had disappeared from the camp, nor had perry seen or heard aught of her since. he had no conception of the time that had elapsed since i had departed, but guessed that many years had dragged their slow way into the past. hooja, too, had disappeared very soon after dian had left. the sarians, under ghak the hairy one, and the amozites under dacor the strong one, dian's brother, had fallen out over my supposed defection, for ghak would not believe that i had thus treacherously deceived and deserted them. the result had been that these two powerful tribes had fallen upon one another with the new weapons that perry and i had taught them to make and to use. other tribes of the new federation took sides with the original disputants or set up petty revolutions of their own. the result was the total demolition of the work we had so well started. taking advantage of the tribal war, the mahars had gathered their sagoths in force and fallen upon one tribe after another in rapid succession, wreaking awful havoc among them and reducing them for the most part to as pitiable a state of terror as that from which we had raised them. alone of all the once-mighty federation the sarians and the amozites with a few other tribes continued to maintain their defiance of the mahars; but these tribes were still divided among themselves, nor had it seemed at all probable to perry when he had last been among them that any attempt at re-amalgamation would be made. "and thus, your majesty," he concluded, "has faded back into the oblivion of the stone age our wondrous dream and with it has gone the first empire of pellucidar." we both had to smile at the use of my royal title, yet i was indeed still "emperor of pellucidar," and some day i meant to rebuild what the vile act of the treacherous hooja had torn down. but first i would find my empress. to me she was worth forty empires. "have you no clue as to the whereabouts of dian?" i asked. "none whatever," replied perry. "it was in search of her that i came to the pretty pass in which you discovered me, and from which, david, you saved me. "i knew perfectly well that you had not intentionally deserted either dian or pellucidar. i guessed that in some way hooja the sly one was at the bottom of the matter, and i determined to go to amoz, where i guessed that dian might come to the protection of her brother, and do my utmost to convince her, and through her dacor the strong one, that we had all been victims of a treacherous plot to which you were no party. "i came to amoz after a most trying and terrible journey, only to find that dian was not among her brother's people and that they knew naught of her whereabouts. "dacor, i am sure, wanted to be fair and just, but so great were his grief and anger over the disappearance of his sister that he could not listen to reason, but kept repeating time and again that only your return to pellucidar could prove the honesty of your intentions. "then came a stranger from another tribe, sent i am sure at the instigation of hooja. he so turned the amozites against me that i was forced to flee their country to escape assassination. "in attempting to return to sari i became lost, and then the sagoths discovered me. for a long time i eluded them, hiding in caves and wading in rivers to throw them off my trail. "i lived on nuts and fruits and the edible roots that chance threw in my way. "i traveled on and on, in what directions i could not even guess; and at last i could elude them no longer and the end came as i had long foreseen that it would come, except that i had not foreseen that you would be there to save me." we rested in our camp until perry had regained sufficient strength to travel again. we planned much, rebuilding all our shattered air-castles; but above all we planned most to find dian. i could not believe that she was dead, yet where she might be in this savage world, and under what frightful conditions she might be living, i could not guess. when perry was rested we returned to the prospector, where he fitted himself out fully like a civilized human being--under-clothing, socks, shoes, khaki jacket and breeches and good, substantial puttees. when i had come upon him he was clothed in rough sadak sandals, a gee-string and a tunic fashioned from the shaggy hide of a thag. now he wore real clothing again for the first time since the ape-folk had stripped us of our apparel that long-gone day that had witnessed our advent within pellucidar. with a bandoleer of cartridges across his shoulder, two six-shooters at his hips, and a rifle in his hand he was a much rejuvenated perry. indeed he was quite a different person altogether from the rather shaky old man who had entered the prospector with me ten or eleven years before, for the trial trip that had plunged us into such wondrous adventures and into such a strange and hitherto undreamed-of-world. now he was straight and active. his muscles, almost atrophied from disuse in his former life, had filled out. he was still an old man of course, but instead of appearing ten years older than he really was, as he had when we left the outer world, he now appeared about ten years younger. the wild, free life of pellucidar had worked wonders for him. well, it must need have done so or killed him, for a man of perry's former physical condition could not long have survived the dangers and rigors of the primitive life of the inner world. perry had been greatly interested in my map and in the "royal observatory" at greenwich. by use of the pedometers we had retraced our way to the prospector with ease and accuracy. now that we were ready to set out again we decided to follow a different route on the chance that it might lead us into more familiar territory. i shall not weary you with a repetition of the countless adventures of our long search. encounters with wild beasts of gigantic size were of almost daily occurrence; but with our deadly express rifles we ran comparatively little risk when one recalls that previously we had both traversed this world of frightful dangers inadequately armed with crude, primitive weapons and all but naked. we ate and slept many times--so many that we lost count--and so i do not know how long we roamed, though our map shows the distances and directions quite accurately. we must have covered a great many thousand square miles of territory, and yet we had seen nothing in the way of a familiar landmark, when from the heights of a mountain-range we were crossing i descried far in the distance great masses of billowing clouds. now clouds are practically unknown in the skies of pellucidar. the moment that my eyes rested upon them my heart leaped. i seized perry's arm and, pointing toward the horizonless distance, shouted: "the mountains of the clouds!" "they lie close to phutra, and the country of our worst enemies, the mahars," perry remonstrated. "i know it," i replied, "but they give us a starting-point from which to prosecute our search intelligently. they are at least a familiar landmark. "they tell us that we are upon the right trail and not wandering far in the wrong direction. "furthermore, close to the mountains of the clouds dwells a good friend, ja the mezop. you did not know him, but you know all that he did for me and all that he will gladly do to aid me. "at least he can direct us upon the right direction toward sari." "the mountains of the clouds constitute a mighty range," replied perry. "they must cover an enormous territory. how are you to find your friend in all the great country that is visible from their rugged flanks?" "easily," i answered him, "for ja gave me minute directions. i recall almost his exact words: "'you need merely come to the foot of the highest peak of the mountains of the clouds. there you will find a river that flows into the lural az. "'directly opposite the mouth of the river you will see three large islands far out--so far that they are barely discernible. the one to the extreme left as you face them from the mouth of the river is anoroc, where i rule the tribe of anoroc.'" and so we hastened onward toward the great cloud-mass that was to be our guide for several weary marches. at last we came close to the towering crags, alp-like in their grandeur. rising nobly among its noble fellows, one stupendous peak reared its giant head thousands of feet above the others. it was he whom we sought; but at its foot no river wound down toward any sea. "it must rise from the opposite side," suggested perry, casting a rueful glance at the forbidding heights that barred our further progress. "we cannot endure the arctic cold of those high flung passes, and to traverse the endless miles about this interminable range might require a year or more. the land we seek must lie upon the opposite side of the mountains." "then we must cross them," i insisted. perry shrugged. "we can't do it, david," he repeated. "we are dressed for the tropics. we should freeze to death among the snows and glaciers long before we had discovered a pass to the opposite side." "we must cross them," i reiterated. "we will cross them." i had a plan, and that plan we carried out. it took some time. first we made a permanent camp part way up the slopes where there was good water. then we set out in search of the great, shaggy cave bear of the higher altitudes. he is a mighty animal--a terrible animal. he is but little larger than his cousin of the lesser, lower hills; but he makes up for it in the awfulness of his ferocity and in the length and thickness of his shaggy coat. it was his coat that we were after. we came upon him quite unexpectedly. i was trudging in advance along a rocky trail worn smooth by the padded feet of countless ages of wild beasts. at a shoulder of the mountain around which the path ran i came face to face with the titan. i was going up for a fur coat. he was coming down for breakfast. each realized that here was the very thing he sought. with a horrid roar the beast charged me. at my right the cliff rose straight upward for thousands of feet. at my left it dropped into a dim, abysmal canyon. in front of me was the bear. behind me was perry. i shouted to him in warning, and then i raised my rifle and fired into the broad breast of the creature. there was no time to take aim; the thing was too close upon me. but that my bullet took effect was evident from the howl of rage and pain that broke from the frothing jowls. it didn't stop him, though. i fired again, and then he was upon me. down i went beneath his ton of maddened, clawing flesh and bone and sinew. i thought my time had come. i remember feeling sorry for poor old perry, left all alone in this inhospitable, savage world. and then of a sudden i realized that the bear was gone and that i was quite unharmed. i leaped to my feet, my rifle still clutched in my hand, and looked about for my antagonist. i thought that i should find him farther down the trail, probably finishing perry, and so i leaped in the direction i supposed him to be, to find perry perched upon a projecting rock several feet above the trail. my cry of warning had given him time to reach this point of safety. there he squatted, his eyes wide and his mouth ajar, the picture of abject terror and consternation. "where is he?" he cried when he saw me. "where is he?" "didn't he come this way?" i asked. "nothing came this way," replied the old man. "but i heard his roars--he must have been as large as an elephant." "he was," i admitted; "but where in the world do you suppose he disappeared to?" then came a possible explanation to my mind. i returned to the point at which the bear had hurled me down and peered over the edge of the cliff into the abyss below. far, far down i saw a small brown blotch near the bottom of the canon. it was the bear. my second shot must have killed him, and so his dead body, after hurling me to the path, had toppled over into the abyss. i shivered at the thought of how close i, too, must have been to going over with him. it took us a long time to reach the carcass, and arduous labor to remove the great pelt. but at last the thing was accomplished, and we returned to camp dragging the heavy trophy behind us. here we devoted another considerable period to scraping and curing it. when this was done to our satisfaction we made heavy boots, trousers, and coats of the shaggy skin, turning the fur in. from the scraps we fashioned caps that came down around our ears, with flaps that fell about our shoulders and breasts. we were now fairly well equipped for our search for a pass to the opposite side of the mountains of the clouds. our first step now was to move our camp upward to the very edge of the perpetual snows which cap this lofty range. here we built a snug, secure little hut, which we provisioned and stored with fuel for its diminutive fireplace. with our hut as a base we sallied forth in search of a pass across the range. our every move was carefully noted upon our maps which we now kept in duplicate. by this means we were saved tedious and unnecessary retracing of ways already explored. systematically we worked upward in both directions from our base, and when we had at last discovered what seemed might prove a feasible pass we moved our belongings to a new hut farther up. it was hard work--cold, bitter, cruel work. not a step did we take in advance but the grim reaper strode silently in our tracks. there were the great cave bears in the timber, and gaunt, lean wolves--huge creatures twice the size of our canadian timber-wolves. farther up we were assailed by enormous white bears--hungry, devilish fellows, who came roaring across the rough glacier tops at the first glimpse of us, or stalked us stealthily by scent when they had not yet seen us. it is one of the peculiarities of life within pellucidar that man is more often the hunted than the hunter. myriad are the huge-bellied carnivora of this primitive world. never, from birth to death, are those great bellies sufficiently filled, so always are their mighty owners prowling about in search of meat. terribly armed for battle as they are, man presents to them in his primal state an easy prey, slow of foot, puny of strength, ill-equipped by nature with natural weapons of defense. the bears looked upon us as easy meat. only our heavy rifles saved us from prompt extinction. poor perry never was a raging lion at heart, and i am convinced that the terrors of that awful period must have caused him poignant mental anguish. when we were abroad pushing our trail farther and farther toward the distant break which, we assumed, marked a feasible way across the range, we never knew at what second some great engine of clawed and fanged destruction might rush upon us from behind, or lie in wait for us beyond an ice-hummock or a jutting shoulder of the craggy steeps. the roar of our rifles was constantly shattering the world-old silence of stupendous canons upon which the eye of man had never before gazed. and when in the comparative safety of our hut we lay down to sleep the great beasts roared and fought without the walls, clawed and battered at the door, or rushed their colossal frames headlong against the hut's sides until it rocked and trembled to the impact. yes, it was a gay life. perry had got to taking stock of our ammunition each time we returned to the hut. it became something of an obsession with him. he'd count our cartridges one by one and then try to figure how long it would be before the last was expended and we must either remain in the hut until we starved to death or venture forth, empty, to fill the belly of some hungry bear. i must admit that i, too, felt worried, for our progress was indeed snail-like, and our ammunition could not last forever. in discussing the problem, finally we came to the decision to burn our bridges behind us and make one last supreme effort to cross the divide. it would mean that we must go without sleep for a long period, and with the further chance that when the time came that sleep could no longer be denied we might still be high in the frozen regions of perpetual snow and ice, where sleep would mean certain death, exposed as we would be to the attacks of wild beasts and without shelter from the hideous cold. but we decided that we must take these chances and so at last we set forth from our hut for the last time, carrying such necessities as we felt we could least afford to do without. the bears seemed unusually troublesome and determined that time, and as we clambered slowly upward beyond the highest point to which we had previously attained, the cold became infinitely more intense. presently, with two great bears dogging our footsteps we entered a dense fog. we had reached the heights that are so often cloud-wrapped for long periods. we could see nothing a few paces beyond our noses. we dared not turn back into the teeth of the bears which we could hear grunting behind us. to meet them in this bewildering fog would have been to court instant death. perry was almost overcome by the hopelessness of our situation. he flopped down on his knees and began to pray. it was the first time i had heard him at his old habit since my return to pellucidar, and i had thought that he had given up his little idiosyncrasy; but he hadn't. far from it. i let him pray for a short time undisturbed, and then as i was about to suggest that we had better be pushing along one of the bears in our rear let out a roar that made the earth fairly tremble beneath our feet. it brought perry to his feet as if he had been stung by a wasp, and sent him racing ahead through the blinding fog at a gait that i knew must soon end in disaster were it not checked. crevasses in the glacier-ice were far too frequent to permit of reckless speed even in a clear atmosphere, and then there were hideous precipices along the edges of which our way often led us. i shivered as i thought of the poor old fellow's peril. at the top of my lungs i called to him to stop, but he did not answer me. and then i hurried on in the direction he had gone, faster by far than safety dictated. for a while i thought i heard him ahead of me, but at last, though i paused often to listen and to call to him, i heard nothing more, not even the grunting of the bears that had been behind us. all was deathly silence--the silence of the tomb. about me lay the thick, impenetrable fog. i was alone. perry was gone--gone forever, i had not the slightest doubt. somewhere near by lay the mouth of a treacherous fissure, and far down at its icy bottom lay all that was mortal of my old friend, abner perry. there would his body be preserved in its icy sepulcher for countless ages, until on some far distant day the slow-moving river of ice had wound its snail-like way down to the warmer level, there to disgorge its grisly evidence of grim tragedy, and what in that far future age, might mean baffling mystery. chapter iii shooting the chutes--and after through the fog i felt my way along by means of my compass. i no longer heard the bears, nor did i encounter one within the fog. experience has since taught me that these great beasts are as terror-stricken by this phenomenon as a landsman by a fog at sea, and that no sooner does a fog envelop them than they make the best of their way to lower levels and a clear atmosphere. it was well for me that this was true. i felt very sad and lonely as i crawled along the difficult footing. my own predicament weighed less heavily upon me than the loss of perry, for i loved the old fellow. that i should ever win the opposite slopes of the range i began to doubt, for though i am naturally sanguine, i imagine that the bereavement which had befallen me had cast such a gloom over my spirits that i could see no slightest ray of hope for the future. then, too, the blighting, gray oblivion of the cold, damp clouds through which i wandered was distressing. hope thrives best in sunlight, and i am sure that it does not thrive at all in a fog. but the instinct of self-preservation is stronger than hope. it thrives, fortunately, upon nothing. it takes root upon the brink of the grave, and blossoms in the jaws of death. now it flourished bravely upon the breast of dead hope, and urged me onward and upward in a stern endeavor to justify its existence. as i advanced the fog became denser. i could see nothing beyond my nose. even the snow and ice i trod were invisible. i could not see below the breast of my bearskin coat. i seemed to be floating in a sea of vapor. to go forward over a dangerous glacier under such conditions was little short of madness; but i could not have stopped going had i known positively that death lay two paces before my nose. in the first place, it was too cold to stop, and in the second, i should have gone mad but for the excitement of the perils that beset each forward step. for some time the ground had been rougher and steeper, until i had been forced to scale a considerable height that had carried me from the glacier entirely. i was sure from my compass that i was following the right general direction, and so i kept on. once more the ground was level. from the wind that blew about me i guessed that i must be upon some exposed peak of ridge. and then quite suddenly i stepped out into space. wildly i turned and clutched at the ground that had slipped from beneath my feet. only a smooth, icy surface was there. i found nothing to clutch or stay my fall, and a moment later so great was my speed that nothing could have stayed me. as suddenly as i had pitched into space, with equal suddenness did i emerge from the fog, out of which i shot like a projectile from a cannon into clear daylight. my speed was so great that i could see nothing about me but a blurred and indistinct sheet of smooth and frozen snow, that rushed past me with express-train velocity. i must have slid downward thousands of feet before the steep incline curved gently on to a broad, smooth, snow-covered plateau. across this i hurtled with slowly diminishing velocity, until at last objects about me began to take definite shape. far ahead, miles and miles away, i saw a great valley and mighty woods, and beyond these a broad expanse of water. in the nearer foreground i discerned a small, dark blob of color upon the shimmering whiteness of the snow. "a bear," thought i, and thanked the instinct that had impelled me to cling tenaciously to my rifle during the moments of my awful tumble. at the rate i was going it would be but a moment before i should be quite abreast the thing; nor was it long before i came to a sudden stop in soft snow, upon which the sun was shining, not twenty paces from the object of my most immediate apprehension. it was standing upon its hind legs waiting for me. as i scrambled to my feet to meet it, i dropped my gun in the snow and doubled up with laughter. it was perry. the expression upon his face, combined with the relief i felt at seeing him again safe and sound, was too much for my overwrought nerves. "david!" he cried. "david, my boy! god has been good to an old man. he has answered my prayer." it seems that perry in his mad flight had plunged over the brink at about the same point as that at which i had stepped over it a short time later. chance had done for us what long periods of rational labor had failed to accomplish. we had crossed the divide. we were upon the side of the mountains of the clouds that we had for so long been attempting to reach. we looked about. below us were green trees and warm jungles. in the distance was a great sea. "the lural az," i said, pointing toward its blue-green surface. somehow--the gods alone can explain it--perry, too, had clung to his rifle during his mad descent of the icy slope. for that there was cause for great rejoicing. neither of us was worse for his experience, so after shaking the snow from our clothing, we set off at a great rate down toward the warmth and comfort of the forest and the jungle. the going was easy by comparison with the awful obstacles we had had to encounter upon the opposite side of the divide. there were beasts, of course, but we came through safely. before we halted to eat or rest, we stood beside a little mountain brook beneath the wondrous trees of the primeval forest in an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. it reminded me of an early june day in the maine woods. we fell to work with our short axes and cut enough small trees to build a rude protection from the fiercer beasts. then we lay down to sleep. how long we slept i do not know. perry says that inasmuch as there is no means of measuring time within pellucidar, there can be no such thing as time here, and that we may have slept an outer earthly year, or we may have slept but a second. but this i know. we had stuck the ends of some of the saplings into the ground in the building of our shelter, first stripping the leaves and branches from them, and when we awoke we found that many of them had thrust forth sprouts. personally, i think that we slept at least a month; but who may say? the sun marked midday when we closed our eyes; it was still in the same position when we opened them; nor had it varied a hair's breadth in the interim. it is most baffling, this question of elapsed time within pellucidar. anyhow, i was famished when we awoke. i think that it was the pangs of hunger that awoke me. ptarmigan and wild boar fell before my revolver within a dozen moments of my awakening. perry soon had a roaring fire blazing by the brink of the little stream. it was a good and delicious meal we made. though we did not eat the entire boar, we made a very large hole in him, while the ptarmigan was but a mouthful. having satisfied our hunger, we determined to set forth at once in search of anoroc and my old friend, ja the mezop. we each thought that by following the little stream downward, we should come upon the large river which ja had told me emptied into the lural az op-posite his island. we did so; nor were we disappointed, for at last after a pleasant journey--and what journey would not be pleasant after the hardships we had endured among the peaks of the mountains of the clouds--we came upon a broad flood that rushed majestically onward in the direction of the great sea we had seen from the snowy slopes of the mountains. for three long marches we followed the left bank of the growing river, until at last we saw it roll its mighty volume into the vast waters of the sea. far out across the rippling ocean we descried three islands. the one to the left must be anoroc. at last we had come close to a solution of our problem--the road to sari. but how to reach the islands was now the foremost question in our minds. we must build a canoe. perry is a most resourceful man. he has an axiom which carries the thought-kernel that what man has done, man can do, and it doesn't cut any figure with perry whether a fellow knows how to do it or not. he set out to make gunpowder once, shortly after our escape from phutra and at the beginning of the confederation of the wild tribes of pellucidar. he said that some one, without any knowledge of the fact that such a thing might be concocted, had once stumbled upon it by accident, and so he couldn't see why a fellow who knew all about powder except how to make it couldn't do as well. he worked mighty hard mixing all sorts of things together, until finally he evolved a substance that looked like powder. he had been very proud of the stuff, and had gone about the village of the sarians exhibiting it to every one who would listen to him, and explaining what its purpose was and what terrific havoc it would work, until finally the natives became so terrified at the stuff that they wouldn't come within a rod of perry and his invention. finally, i suggested that we experiment with it and see what it would do, so perry built a fire, after placing the powder at a safe distance, and then touched a glowing ember to a minute particle of the deadly explosive. it extinguished the ember. repeated experiments with it determined me that in searching for a high explosive, perry had stumbled upon a fire-extinguisher that would have made his fortune for him back in our own world. so now he set himself to work to build a scientific canoe. i had suggested that we construct a dugout, but perry convinced me that we must build something more in keeping with our positions of supermen in this world of the stone age. "we must impress these natives with our superiority," he explained. "you must not forget, david, that you are emperor of pellucidar. as such you may not with dignity approach the shores of a foreign power in so crude a vessel as a dugout." i pointed out to perry that it wasn't much more incongruous for the emperor to cruise in a canoe, than it was for the prime minister to attempt to build one with his own hands. he had to smile at that; but in extenuation of his act he assured me that it was quite customary for prime ministers to give their personal attention to the building of imperial navies; "and this," he said, "is the imperial navy of his serene highness, david i, emperor of the federated kingdoms of pellucidar." i grinned; but perry was quite serious about it. it had always seemed rather more or less of a joke to me that i should be addressed as majesty and all the rest of it. yet my imperial power and dignity had been a very real thing during my brief reign. twenty tribes had joined the federation, and their chiefs had sworn eternal fealty to one another and to me. among them were many powerful though savage nations. their chiefs we had made kings; their tribal lands kingdoms. we had armed them with bows and arrows and swords, in addition to their own more primitive weapons. i had trained them in military discipline and in so much of the art of war as i had gleaned from extensive reading of the campaigns of napoleon, von moltke, grant, and the ancients. we had marked out as best we could natural boundaries dividing the various kingdoms. we had warned tribes beyond these boundaries that they must not trespass, and we had marched against and severely punished those who had. we had met and defeated the mahars and the sagoths. in short, we had demonstrated our rights to empire, and very rapidly were we being recognized and heralded abroad when my departure for the outer world and hooja's treachery had set us back. but now i had returned. the work that fate had undone must be done again, and though i must need smile at my imperial honors, i none the less felt the weight of duty and obligation that rested upon my shoulders. slowly the imperial navy progressed toward completion. she was a wondrous craft, but i had my doubts about her. when i voiced them to perry, he reminded me gently that my people for many generations had been mine-owners, not ship-builders, and consequently i couldn't be expected to know much about the matter. i was minded to inquire into his hereditary fitness to design battleships; but inasmuch as i already knew that his father had been a minister in a back-woods village far from the coast, i hesitated lest i offend the dear old fellow. he was immensely serious about his work, and i must admit that in so far as appearances went he did extremely well with the meager tools and assistance at his command. we had only two short axes and our hunting-knives; yet with these we hewed trees, split them into planks, surfaced and fitted them. the "navy" was some forty feet in length by ten feet beam. her sides were quite straight and fully ten feet high--"for the purpose," explained perry, "of adding dignity to her appearance and rendering it less easy for an enemy to board her." as a matter of fact, i knew that he had had in mind the safety of her crew under javelin-fire--the lofty sides made an admirable shelter. inside she reminded me of nothing so much as a floating trench. there was also some slight analogy to a huge coffin. her prow sloped sharply backward from the water-line--quite like a line of battleship. perry had designed her more for moral effect upon an enemy, i think, than for any real harm she might inflict, and so those parts which were to show were the most imposing. below the water-line she was practically non-existent. she should have had considerable draft; but, as the enemy couldn't have seen it, perry decided to do away with it, and so made her flat-bottomed. it was this that caused my doubts about her. there was another little idiosyncrasy of design that escaped us both until she was about ready to launch--there was no method of propulsion. her sides were far too high to permit the use of sweeps, and when perry suggested that we pole her, i remonstrated on the grounds that it would be a most undignified and awkward manner of sweeping down upon the foe, even if we could find or wield poles that would reach to the bottom of the ocean. finally i suggested that we convert her into a sailing vessel. when once the idea took hold perry was most enthusiastic about it, and nothing would do but a four-masted, full-rigged ship. again i tried to dissuade him, but he was simply crazy over the psychological effect which the appearance of this strange and mighty craft would have upon the natives of pellucidar. so we rigged her with thin hides for sails and dried gut for rope. neither of us knew much about sailing a full-rigged ship; but that didn't worry me a great deal, for i was confident that we should never be called upon to do so, and as the day of launching approached i was positive of it. we had built her upon a low bank of the river close to where it emptied into the sea, and just above high tide. her keel we had laid upon several rollers cut from small trees, the ends of the rollers in turn resting upon parallel tracks of long saplings. her stern was toward the water. a few hours before we were ready to launch her she made quite an imposing picture, for perry had insisted upon setting every shred of "canvas." i told him that i didn't know much about it, but i was sure that at launching the hull only should have been completed, everything else being completed after she had floated safely. at the last minute there was some delay while we sought a name for her. i wanted her christened the perry in honor both of her designer and that other great naval genius of another world, captain oliver hazard perry, of the united states navy. but perry was too modest; he wouldn't hear of it. we finally decided to establish a system in the naming of the fleet. battle-ships of the first-class should bear the names of kingdoms of the federation; armored cruisers the names of kings; cruisers the names of cities, and so on down the line. therefore, we decided to name the first battle-ship sari, after the first of the federated kingdoms. the launching of the sari proved easier than i contemplated. perry wanted me to get in and break something over the bow as she floated out upon the bosom of the river, but i told him that i should feel safer on dry land until i saw which side up the sari would float. i could see by the expression of the old man's face that my words had hurt him; but i noticed that he didn't offer to get in himself, and so i felt less contrition than i might otherwise. when we cut the ropes and removed the blocks that held the sari in place she started for the water with a lunge. before she hit it she was going at a reckless speed, for we had laid our tracks quite down to the water, greased them, and at intervals placed rollers all ready to receive the ship as she moved forward with stately dignity. but there was no dignity in the sari. when she touched the surface of the river she must have been going twenty or thirty miles an hour. her momentum carried her well out into the stream, until she came to a sudden halt at the end of the long line which we had had the foresight to attach to her bow and fasten to a large tree upon the bank. the moment her progress was checked she promptly capsized. perry was overwhelmed. i didn't upbraid him, nor remind him that i had "told him so." his grief was so genuine and so apparent that i didn't have the heart to reproach him, even were i inclined to that particular sort of meanness. "come, come, old man!" i cried. "it's not as bad as it looks. give me a hand with this rope, and we'll drag her up as far as we can; and then when the tide goes out we'll try another scheme. i think we can make a go of her yet." well, we managed to get her up into shallow water. when the tide receded she lay there on her side in the mud, quite a pitiable object for the premier battle-ship of a world--"the terror of the seas" was the way perry had occasionally described her. we had to work fast; but before the tide came in again we had stripped her of her sails and masts, righted her, and filled her about a quarter full of rock ballast. if she didn't stick too fast in the mud i was sure that she would float this time right side up. i can tell you that it was with palpitating hearts that we sat upon the river-bank and watched that tide come slowly in. the tides of pellucidar don't amount to much by comparison with our higher tides of the outer world, but i knew that it ought to prove ample to float the sari. nor was i mistaken. finally we had the satisfaction of seeing the vessel rise out of the mud and float slowly upstream with the tide. as the water rose we pulled her in quite close to the bank and clambered aboard. she rested safely now upon an even keel; nor did she leak, for she was well calked with fiber and tarry pitch. we rigged up a single short mast and light sail, fastened planking down over the ballast to form a deck, worked her out into midstream with a couple of sweeps, and dropped our primitive stone anchor to await the turn of the tide that would bear us out to sea. while we waited we devoted the time to the construction of an upper deck, since the one immediately above the ballast was some seven feet from the gunwale. the second deck was four feet above this. in it was a large, commodious hatch, leading to the lower deck. the sides of the ship rose three feet above the upper deck, forming an excellent breastwork, which we loopholed at intervals that we might lie prone and fire upon an enemy. though we were sailing out upon a peaceful mission in search of my friend ja, we knew that we might meet with people of some other island who would prove unfriendly. at last the tide turned. we weighed anchor. slowly we drifted down the great river toward the sea. about us swarmed the mighty denizens of the primeval deep--plesiosauri and ichthyosauria with all their horrid, slimy cousins whose names were as the names of aunts and uncles to perry, but which i have never been able to recall an hour after having heard them. at last we were safely launched upon the journey to which we had looked forward for so long, and the results of which meant so much to me. chapter iv friendship and treachery the sari proved a most erratic craft. she might have done well enough upon a park lagoon if safely anchored, but upon the bosom of a mighty ocean she left much to be desired. sailing with the wind she did her best; but in quartering or when close-hauled she drifted terribly, as a nautical man might have guessed she would. we couldn't keep within miles of our course, and our progress was pitifully slow. instead of making for the island of anoroc, we bore far to the right, until it became evident that we should have to pass between the two right-hand islands and attempt to return toward anoroc from the opposite side. as we neared the islands perry was quite overcome by their beauty. when we were directly between two of them he fairly went into raptures; nor could i blame him. the tropical luxuriance of the foliage that dripped almost to the water's edge and the vivid colors of the blooms that shot the green made a most gorgeous spectacle. perry was right in the midst of a flowery panegyric on the wonders of the peaceful beauty of the scene when a canoe shot out from the nearest island. there were a dozen warriors in it; it was quickly followed by a second and third. of course we couldn't know the intentions of the strangers, but we could pretty well guess them. perry wanted to man the sweeps and try to get away from them, but i soon convinced him that any speed of which the sari was capable would be far too slow to outdistance the swift, though awkward, dugouts of the mezops. i waited until they were quite close enough to hear me, and then i hailed them. i told them that we were friends of the mezops, and that we were upon a visit to ja of anoroc, to which they replied that they were at war with ja, and that if we would wait a minute they'd board us and throw our corpses to the azdyryths. i warned them that they would get the worst of it if they didn't leave us alone, but they only shouted in derision and paddled swiftly toward us. it was evident that they were considerably impressed by the appearance and dimensions of our craft, but as these fellows know no fear they were not at all awed. seeing that they were determined to give battle, i leaned over the rail of the sari and brought the imperial battle-squadron of the emperor of pellucidar into action for the first time in the history of a world. in other and simpler words, i fired my revolver at the nearest canoe. the effect was magical. a warrior rose from his knees, threw his paddle aloft, stiffened into rigidity for an instant, and then toppled overboard. the others ceased paddling, and, with wide eyes, looked first at me and then at the battling sea-things which fought for the corpse of their comrade. to them it must have seemed a miracle that i should be able to stand at thrice the range of the most powerful javelin-thrower and with a loud noise and a smudge of smoke slay one of their number with an invisible missile. but only for an instant were they paralyzed with wonder. then, with savage shouts, they fell once more to their paddles and forged rapidly toward us. again and again i fired. at each shot a warrior sank to the bottom of the canoe or tumbled overboard. when the prow of the first craft touched the side of the sari it contained only dead and dying men. the other two dugouts were approaching rapidly, so i turned my attention toward them. i think that they must have been commencing to have some doubts--those wild, naked, red warriors--for when the first man fell in the second boat, the others stopped paddling and commenced to jabber among themselves. the third boat pulled up alongside the second and its crews joined in the conference. taking advantage of the lull in the battle, i called out to the survivors to return to their shore. "i have no fight with you," i cried, and then i told them who i was and added that if they would live in peace they must sooner or later join forces with me. "go back now to your people," i counseled them, "and tell them that you have seen david i, emperor of the federated kingdoms of pellucidar, and that single-handed he has overcome you, just as he intends overcoming the mahars and the sagoths and any other peoples of pellucidar who threaten the peace and welfare of his empire." slowly they turned the noses of their canoes toward land. it was evident that they were impressed; yet that they were loath to give up without further contesting my claim to naval supremacy was also apparent, for some of their number seemed to be exhorting the others to a renewal of the conflict. however, at last they drew slowly away, and the sari, which had not decreased her snail-like speed during this, her first engagement, continued upon her slow, uneven way. presently perry stuck his head up through the hatch and hailed me. "have the scoundrels departed?" he asked. "have you killed them all?" "those whom i failed to kill have departed, perry," i replied. he came out on deck and, peering over the side, descried the lone canoe floating a short distance astern with its grim and grisly freight. farther his eyes wandered to the retreating boats. "david," said he at last, "this is a notable occasion. it is a great day in the annals of pellucidar. we have won a glorious victory. "your majesty's navy has routed a fleet of the enemy thrice its own size, manned by ten times as many men. let us give thanks." i could scarce restrain a smile at perry's use of the pronoun "we," yet i was glad to share the rejoicing with him as i shall always be glad to share everything with the dear old fellow. perry is the only male coward i have ever known whom i could respect and love. he was not created for fighting; but i think that if the occasion should ever arise where it became necessary he would give his life cheerfully for me--yes, i know it. it took us a long time to work around the islands and draw in close to anoroc. in the leisure afforded we took turns working on our map, and by means of the compass and a little guesswork we set down the shoreline we had left and the three islands with fair accuracy. crossed sabers marked the spot where the first great naval engagement of a world had taken place. in a note-book we jotted down, as had been our custom, details that would be of historical value later. opposite anoroc we came to anchor quite close to shore. i knew from my previous experience with the tortuous trails of the island that i could never find my way inland to the hidden tree-village of the mezop chieftain, ja; so we remained aboard the sari, firing our express rifles at intervals to attract the attention of the natives. after some ten shots had been fired at considerable intervals a body of copper-colored warriors appeared upon the shore. they watched us for a moment and then i hailed them, asking the whereabouts of my old friend ja. they did not reply at once, but stood with their heads together in serious and animated discussion. continually they turned their eyes toward our strange craft. it was evident that they were greatly puzzled by our appearance as well as unable to explain the source of the loud noises that had attracted their attention to us. at last one of the warriors addressed us. "who are you who seek ja?" he asked. "what would you of our chief?" "we are friends," i replied. "i am david. tell ja that david, whose life he once saved from a sithic, has come again to visit him. "if you will send out a canoe we will come ashore. we cannot bring our great warship closer in." again they talked for a considerable time. then two of them entered a canoe that several dragged from its hiding-place in the jungle and paddled swiftly toward us. they were magnificent specimens of manhood. perry had never seen a member of this red race close to before. in fact, the dead men in the canoe we had left astern after the battle and the survivors who were paddling rapidly toward their shore were the first he ever had seen. he had been greatly impressed by their physical beauty and the promise of superior intelligence which their well-shaped skulls gave. the two who now paddled out received us into their canoe with dignified courtesy. to my inquiries relative to ja they explained that he had not been in the village when our signals were heard, but that runners had been sent out after him and that doubtless he was already upon his way to the coast. one of the men remembered me from the occasion of my former visit to the island; he was extremely agree-able the moment that he came close enough to recognize me. he said that ja would be delighted to welcome me, and that all the tribe of anoroc knew of me by repute, and had received explicit instructions from their chieftain that if any of them should ever come upon me to show me every kindness and attention. upon shore we were received with equal honor. while we stood conversing with our bronze friends a tall warrior leaped suddenly from the jungle. it was ja. as his eyes fell upon me his face lighted with pleasure. he came quickly forward to greet me after the manner of his tribe. toward perry he was equally hospitable. the old man fell in love with the savage giant as completely as had i. ja conducted us along the maze-like trail to his strange village, where he gave over one of the tree-houses for our exclusive use. perry was much interested in the unique habitation, which resembled nothing so much as a huge wasp's nest built around the bole of a tree well above the ground. after we had eaten and rested ja came to see us with a number of his head men. they listened attentively to my story, which included a narrative of the events leading to the formation of the federated kingdoms, the battle with the mahars, my journey to the outer world, and my return to pellucidar and search for sari and my mate. ja told me that the mezops had heard something of the federation and had been much interested in it. he had even gone so far as to send a party of warriors toward sari to investigate the reports, and to arrange for the entrance of anoroc into the empire in case it appeared that there was any truth in the rumors that one of the aims of the federation was the overthrow of the mahars. the delegation had met with a party of sagoths. as there had been a truce between the mahars and the mezops for many generations, they camped with these warriors of the reptiles, from whom they learned that the federation had gone to pieces. so the party returned to anoroc. when i showed ja our map and explained its purpose to him, he was much interested. the location of anoroc, the mountains of the clouds, the river, and the strip of seacoast were all familiar to him. he quickly indicated the position of the inland sea and close beside it, the city of phutra, where one of the powerful mahar nations had its seat. he likewise showed us where sari should be and carried his own coast-line as far north and south as it was known to him. his additions to the map convinced us that greenwich lay upon the verge of this same sea, and that it might be reached by water more easily than by the arduous crossing of the mountains or the dangerous approach through phutra, which lay almost directly in line between anoroc and greenwich to the northwest. if sari lay upon the same water then the shore-line must bend far back toward the southwest of greenwich--an assumption which, by the way, we found later to be true. also, sari was upon a lofty plateau at the southern end of a mighty gulf of the great ocean. the location which ja gave to distant amoz puzzled us, for it placed it due north of greenwich, apparently in mid-ocean. as ja had never been so far and knew only of amoz through hearsay, we thought that he must be mistaken; but he was not. amoz lies directly north of greenwich across the mouth of the same gulf as that upon which sari is. the sense of direction and location of these primitive pellucidarians is little short of uncanny, as i have had occasion to remark in the past. you may take one of them to the uttermost ends of his world, to places of which he has never even heard, yet without sun or moon or stars to guide him, without map or compass, he will travel straight for home in the shortest direction. mountains, rivers, and seas may have to be gone around, but never once does his sense of direction fail him--the homing instinct is supreme. in the same remarkable way they never forget the location of any place to which they have ever been, and know that of many of which they have only heard from others who have visited them. in short, each pellucidarian is a walking geography of his own district and of much of the country contiguous thereto. it always proved of the greatest aid to perry and me; nevertheless we were anxious to enlarge our map, for we at least were not endowed with the homing instinct. after several long councils it was decided that, in order to expedite matters, perry should return to the prospector with a strong party of mezops and fetch the freight i had brought from the outer world. ja and his warriors were much impressed by our firearms, and were also anxious to build boats with sails. as we had arms at the prospector and also books on boat-building we thought that it might prove an excellent idea to start these naturally maritime people upon the construction of a well built navy of staunch sailing-vessels. i was sure that with definite plans to go by perry could oversee the construction of an adequate flotilla. i warned him, however, not to be too ambitious, and to forget about dreadnoughts and armored cruisers for a while and build instead a few small sailing-boats that could be manned by four or five men. i was to proceed to sari, and while prosecuting my search for dian attempt at the same time the rehabilitation of the federation. perry was going as far as possible by water, with the chances that the entire trip might be made in that manner, which proved to be the fact. with a couple of mezops as companions i started for sari. in order to avoid crossing the principal range of the mountains of the clouds we took a route that passed a little way south of phutra. we had eaten four times and slept once, and were, as my companions told me, not far from the great mahar city, when we were suddenly confronted by a considerable band of sagoths. they did not attack us, owing to the peace which exists between the mahars and the mezops, but i could see that they looked upon me with considerable suspicion. my friends told them that i was a stranger from a remote country, and as we had previously planned against such a contingency i pretended ignorance of the language which the human beings of pellucidar employ in conversing with the gorilla-like soldiery of the mahars. i noticed, and not without misgivings, that the leader of the sagoths eyed me with an expression that betokened partial recognition. i was sure that he had seen me before during the period of my incarceration in phutra and that he was trying to recall my identity. it worried me not a little. i was extremely thankful when we bade them adieu and continued upon our journey. several times during the next few marches i became acutely conscious of the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes, but i did not speak of my suspicions to my companions. later i had reason to regret my reticence, for-- well, this is how it happened: we had killed an antelope and after eating our fill i had lain down to sleep. the pellucidarians, who seem seldom if ever to require sleep, joined me in this instance, for we had had a very trying march along the northern foothills of the mountains of the clouds, and now with their bellies filled with meat they seemed ready for slumber. when i awoke it was with a start to find a couple of huge sagoths astride me. they pinioned my arms and legs, and later chained my wrists behind my back. then they let me up. i saw my companions; the brave fellows lay dead where they had slept, javelined to death without a chance at self-defense. i was furious. i threatened the sagoth leader with all sorts of dire reprisals; but when he heard me speak the hybrid language that is the medium of communication between his kind and the human race of the inner world he only grinned, as much as to say, "i thought so!" they had not taken my revolvers or ammunition away from me because they did not know what they were; but my heavy rifle i had lost. they simply left it where it had lain beside me. so low in the scale of intelligence are they, that they had not sufficient interest in this strange object even to fetch it along with them. i knew from the direction of our march that they were taking me to phutra. once there i did not need much of an imagination to picture what my fate would be. it was the arena and a wild thag or fierce tarag for me--unless the mahars elected to take me to the pits. in that case my end would be no more certain, though infinitely more horrible and painful, for in the pits i should be subjected to cruel vivisection. from what i had once seen of their methods in the pits of phutra i knew them to be the opposite of merciful, whereas in the arena i should be quickly despatched by some savage beast. arrived at the underground city, i was taken immediately before a slimy mahar. when the creature had received the report of the sagoth its cold eyes glistened with malice and hatred as they were turned balefully upon me. i knew then that my identity had been guessed. with a show of excitement that i had never before seen evinced by a member of the dominant race of pellucidar, the mahar hustled me away, heavily guarded, through the main avenue of the city to one of the principal buildings. here we were ushered into a great hall where presently many mahars gathered. in utter silence they conversed, for they have no oral speech since they are without auditory nerves. their method of communication perry has likened to the projection of a sixth sense into a fourth dimension, where it becomes cognizable to the sixth sense of their audience. be that as it may, however, it was evident that i was the subject of discussion, and from the hateful looks bestowed upon me not a particularly pleasant subject. how long i waited for their decision i do not know, but it must have been a very long time. finally one of the sagoths addressed me. he was acting as interpreter for his masters. "the mahars will spare your life," he said, "and release you on one condition." "and what is that condition?" i asked, though i could guess its terms. "that you return to them that which you stole from the pits of phutra when you killed the four mahars and escaped," he replied. i had thought that that would be it. the great secret upon which depended the continuance of the mahar race was safely hid where only dian and i knew. i ventured to imagine that they would have given me much more than my liberty to have it safely in their keeping again; but after that--what? would they keep their promises? i doubted it. with the secret of artificial propagation once more in their hands their numbers would soon be made so to overrun the world of pellucidar that there could be no hope for the eventual supremacy of the human race, the cause for which i so devoutly hoped, for which i had consecrated my life, and for which i was not willing to give my life. yes! in that moment as i stood before the heartless tribunal i felt that my life would be a very little thing to give could it save to the human race of pellucidar the chance to come into its own by insuring the eventual extinction of the hated, powerful mahars. "come!" exclaimed the sagoths. "the mighty mahars await your reply." "you may say to them," i answered, "that i shall not tell them where the great secret is hid." when this had been translated to them there was a great beating of reptilian wings, gaping of sharp-fanged jaws, and hideous hissing. i thought that they were about to fall upon me on the spot, and so i laid my hands upon my revolvers; but at length they became more quiet and presently transmitted some command to my sagoth guard, the chief of which laid a heavy hand upon my arm and pushed me roughly before him from the audience-chamber. they took me to the pits, where i lay carefully guarded. i was sure that i was to be taken to the vivisection laboratory, and it required all my courage to fortify myself against the terrors of so fearful a death. in pellucidar, where there is no time, death-agonies may endure for eternities. accordingly, i had to steel myself against an endless doom, which now stared me in the face! chapter v surprises but at last the allotted moment arrived--the moment for which i had been trying to prepare myself, for how long i could not even guess. a great sagoth came and spoke some words of command to those who watched over me. i was jerked roughly to my feet and with little consideration hustled upward toward the higher levels. out into the broad avenue they conducted me, where, amid huge throngs of mahars, sagoths, and heavily guarded slaves, i was led, or, rather, pushed and shoved roughly, along in the same direction that the mob moved. i had seen such a concourse of people once before in the buried city of phutra; i guessed, and rightly, that we were bound for the great arena where slaves who are condemned to death meet their end. into the vast amphitheater they took me, stationing me at the extreme end of the arena. the queen came, with her slimy, sickening retinue. the seats were filled. the show was about to commence. then, from a little doorway in the opposite end of the structure, a girl was led into the arena. she was at a considerable distance from me. i could not see her features. i wondered what fate awaited this other poor victim and myself, and why they had chosen to have us die together. my own fate, or rather, my thought of it, was submerged in the natural pity i felt for this lone girl, doomed to die horribly beneath the cold, cruel eyes of her awful captors. of what crime could she be guilty that she must expiate it in the dreaded arena? as i stood thus thinking, another door, this time at one of the long sides of the arena, was thrown open, and into the theater of death slunk a mighty tarag, the huge cave tiger of the stone age. at my sides were my revolvers. my captors had not taken them from me, because they did not yet realize their nature. doubtless they thought them some strange manner of war-club, and as those who are condemned to the arena are permitted weapons of defense, they let me keep them. the girl they had armed with a javelin. a brass pin would have been almost as effective against the ferocious monster they had loosed upon her. the tarag stood for a moment looking about him--first up at the vast audience and then about the arena. he did not seem to see me at all, but his eyes fell presently upon the girl. a hideous roar broke from his titanic lungs--a roar which ended in a long-drawn scream that is more human than the death-cry of a tortured woman--more human but more awesome. i could scarce restrain a shudder. slowly the beast turned and moved toward the girl. then it was that i came to myself and to a realization of my duty. quickly and as noiselessly as possible i ran down the arena in pursuit of the grim creature. as i ran i drew one of my pitifully futile weapons. ah! could i but have had my lost express-gun in my hands at that moment! a single well-placed shot would have crumbled even this great monster. the best i could hope to accomplish was to divert the thing from the girl to myself and then to place as many bullets as possible in it before it reached and mauled me into insensibility and death. there is a certain unwritten law of the arena that vouchsafes freedom and immunity to the victor, be he beast or human being--both of whom, by the way, are all the same to the mahar. that is, they were accustomed to look upon man as a lower animal before perry and i broke through the pellucidarian crust, but i imagine that they were beginning to alter their views a trifle and to realize that in the gilak--their word for human being--they had a highly organized, reasoning being to contend with. be that as it may, the chances were that the tarag alone would profit by the law of the arena. a few more of his long strides, a prodigious leap, and he would be upon the girl. i raised a revolver and fired. the bullet struck him in the left hind leg. it couldn't have damaged him much; but the report of the shot brought him around, facing me. i think the snarling visage of a huge, enraged, saber-toothed tiger is one of the most terrible sights in the world. especially if he be snarling at you and there be nothing between the two of you but bare sand. even as he faced me a little cry from the girl carried my eyes beyond the brute to her face. hers was fastened upon me with an expression of incredulity that baffles description. there was both hope and horror in them, too. "dian!" i cried. "my heavens, dian!" i saw her lips form the name david, as with raised javelin she rushed forward upon the tarag. she was a tigress then--a primitive savage female defending her loved one. before she could reach the beast with her puny weapon, i fired again at the point where the tarag's neck met his left shoulder. if i could get a bullet through there it might reach his heart. the bullet didn't reach his heart, but it stopped him for an instant. it was then that a strange thing happened. i heard a great hissing from the stands occupied by the mahars, and as i glanced toward them i saw three mighty thipdars--the winged dragons that guard the queen, or, as perry calls them, pterodactyls--rise swiftly from their rocks and dart lightning-like, toward the center of the arena. they are huge, powerful reptiles. one of them, with the advantage which his wings might give him, would easily be a match for a cave bear or a tarag. these three, to my consternation, swooped down upon the tarag as he was gathering himself for a final charge upon me. they buried their talons in his back and lifted him bodily from the arena as if he had been a chicken in the clutches of a hawk. what could it mean? i was baffled for an explanation; but with the tarag gone i lost no time in hastening to dian's side. with a little cry of delight she threw herself into my arms. so lost were we in the ecstasy of reunion that neither of us--to this day--can tell what became of the tarag. the first thing we were aware of was the presence of a body of sagoths about us. gruffly they commanded us to follow them. they led us from the arena and back through the streets of phutra to the audience chamber in which i had been tried and sentenced. here we found ourselves facing the same cold, cruel tribunal. again a sagoth acted as interpreter. he explained that our lives had been spared because at the last moment tu-al-sa had returned to phutra, and seeing me in the arena had prevailed upon the queen to spare my life. "who is tu-al-sa?" i asked. "a mahar whose last male ancestor was--ages ago--the last of the male rulers among the mahars," he replied. "why should she wish to have my life spared?" he shrugged his shoulders and then repeated my question to the mahar spokesman. when the latter had explained in the strange sign-language that passes for speech between the mahars and their fighting men the sagoth turned again to me: "for a long time you had tu-al-sa in your power," he explained. "you might easily have killed her or abandoned her in a strange world--but you did neither. you did not harm her, and you brought her back with you to pellucidar and set her free to return to phutra. this is your reward." now i understood. the mahar who had been my involuntary companion upon my return to the outer world was tu-al-sa. this was the first time that i had learned the lady's name. i thanked fate that i had not left her upon the sands of the sahara--or put a bullet in her, as i had been tempted to do. i was surprised to discover that gratitude was a characteristic of the dominant race of pellucidar. i could never think of them as aught but cold-blooded, brainless reptiles, though perry had devoted much time in explaining to me that owing to a strange freak of evolution among all the genera of the inner world, this species of the reptilia had advanced to a position quite analogous to that which man holds upon the outer crust. he had often told me that there was every reason to believe from their writings, which he had learned to read while we were incarcerated in phutra, that they were a just race, and that in certain branches of science and arts they were quite well advanced, especially in genetics and metaphysics, engineering and architecture. while it had always been difficult for me to look upon these things as other than slimy, winged crocodiles--which, by the way, they do not at all resemble--i was now forced to a realization of the fact that i was in the hands of enlightened creatures--for justice and gratitude are certain hallmarks of rationality and culture. but what they purposed for us further was of most imminent interest to me. they might save us from the tarag and yet not free us. they looked upon us yet, to some extent, i knew, as creatures of a lower order, and so as we are unable to place ourselves in the position of the brutes we enslave--thinking that they are happier in bondage than in the free fulfilment of the purposes for which nature intended them--the mahars, too, might consider our welfare better conserved in captivity than among the dangers of the savage freedom we craved. naturally, i was next impelled to inquire their further intent. to my question, put through the sagoth interpreter, i received the reply that having spared my life they considered that tu-al-sa's debt of gratitude was canceled. they still had against me, however, the crime of which i had been guilty--the unforgivable crime of stealing the great secret. they, therefore, intended holding dian and me prisoners until the manuscript was returned to them. they would, they said, send an escort of sagoths with me to fetch the precious document from its hiding-place, keeping dian at phutra as a hostage and releasing us both the moment that the document was safely restored to their queen. there was no doubt but that they had the upper hand. however, there was so much more at stake than the liberty or even the lives of dian and myself, that i did not deem it expedient to accept their offer without giving the matter careful thought. without the great secret this maleless race must eventually become extinct. for ages they had fertilized their eggs by an artificial process, the secret of which lay hidden in the little cave of a far-off valley where dian and i had spent our honeymoon. i was none too sure that i could find the valley again, nor that i cared to. so long as the powerful reptilian race of pellucidar continued to propagate, just so long would the position of man within the inner world be jeopardized. there could not be two dominant races. i said as much to dian. "you used to tell me," she replied, "of the wonderful things you could accomplish with the inventions of your own world. now you have returned with all that is necessary to place this great power in the hands of the men of pellucidar. "you told me of great engines of destruction which would cast a bursting ball of metal among our enemies, killing hundreds of them at one time. "you told me of mighty fortresses of stone which a thousand men armed with big and little engines such as these could hold forever against a million sagoths. "you told me of great canoes which moved across the water without paddles, and which spat death from holes in their sides. "all these may now belong to the men of pellucidar. why should we fear the mahars? "let them breed! let their numbers increase by thousands. they will be helpless before the power of the emperor of pellucidar. "but if you remain a prisoner in phutra, what may we accomplish? "what could the men of pellucidar do without you to lead them? "they would fight among themselves, and while they fought the mahars would fall upon them, and even though the mahar race should die out, of what value would the emancipation of the human race be to them without the knowledge, which you alone may wield, to guide them toward the wonderful civilization of which you have told me so much that i long for its comforts and luxuries as i never before longed for anything. "no, david; the mahars cannot harm us if you are at liberty. let them have their secret that you and i may return to our people, and lead them to the conquest of all pellucidar." it was plain that dian was ambitious, and that her ambition had not dulled her reasoning faculties. she was right. nothing could be gained by remaining bottled up in phutra for the rest of our lives. it was true that perry might do much with the contents of the prospector, or iron mole, in which i had brought down the implements of outer-world civilization; but perry was a man of peace. he could never weld the warring factions of the disrupted federation. he could never win new tribes to the empire. he would fiddle around manufacturing gun-powder and trying to improve upon it until some one blew him up with his own invention. he wasn't practical. he never would get anywhere without a balance-wheel--without some one to direct his energies. perry needed me and i needed him. if we were going to do anything for pellucidar we must be free to do it together. the outcome of it all was that i agreed to the mahars' proposition. they promised that dian would be well treated and protected from every indignity during my absence. so i set out with a hundred sagoths in search of the little valley which i had stumbled upon by accident, and which i might and might not find again. we traveled directly toward sari. stopping at the camp where i had been captured i recovered my express rifle, for which i was very thankful. i found it lying where i had left it when i had been overpowered in my sleep by the sagoths who had captured me and slain my mezop companions. on the way i added materially to my map, an occupation which did not elicit from the sagoths even a shadow of interest. i felt that the human race of pellucidar had little to fear from these gorilla-men. they were fighters--that was all. we might even use them later ourselves in this same capacity. they had not sufficient brain power to constitute a menace to the advancement of the human race. as we neared the spot where i hoped to find the little valley i became more and more confident of success. every landmark was familiar to me, and i was sure now that i knew the exact location of the cave. it was at about this time that i sighted a number of the half-naked warriors of the human race of pellucidar. they were marching across our front. at sight of us they halted; that there would be a fight i could not doubt. these sagoths would never permit an opportunity for the capture of slaves for their mahar masters to escape them. i saw that the men were armed with bows and arrows, long lances and swords, so i guessed that they must have been members of the federation, for only my people had been thus equipped. before perry and i came the men of pellucidar had only the crudest weapons wherewith to slay one another. the sagoths, too, were evidently expecting battle. with savage shouts they rushed forward toward the human warriors. then a strange thing happened. the leader of the human beings stepped forward with upraised hands. the sagoths ceased their war-cries and advanced slowly to meet him. there was a long parley during which i could see that i was often the subject of their discourse. the sagoths' leader pointed in the direction in which i had told him the valley lay. evidently he was explaining the nature of our expedition to the leader of the warriors. it was all a puzzle to me. what human being could be upon such excellent terms with the gorilla-men? i couldn't imagine. i tried to get a good look at the fellow, but the sagoths had left me in the rear with a guard when they had advanced to battle, and the distance was too great for me to recognize the features of any of the human beings. finally the parley was concluded and the men continued on their way while the sagoths returned to where i stood with my guard. it was time for eating, so we stopped where we were and made our meal. the sagoths didn't tell me who it was they had met, and i did not ask, though i must confess that i was quite curious. they permitted me to sleep at this halt. afterward we took up the last leg of our journey. i found the valley without difficulty and led my guard directly to the cave. at its mouth the sagoths halted and i entered alone. i noticed as i felt about the floor in the dim light that there was a pile of fresh-turned rubble there. presently my hands came to the spot where the great secret had been buried. there was a cavity where i had carefully smoothed the earth over the hiding-place of the document--the manuscript was gone! frantically i searched the whole interior of the cave several times over, but without other result than a complete confirmation of my worst fears. someone had been here ahead of me and stolen the great secret. the one thing within pellucidar which might free dian and me was gone, nor was it likely that i should ever learn its whereabouts. if a mahar had found it, which was quite improbable, the chances were that the dominant race would never divulge the fact that they had recovered the precious document. if a cave man had happened upon it he would have no conception of its meaning or value, and as a consequence it would be lost or destroyed in short order. with bowed head and broken hopes i came out of the cave and told the sagoth chieftain what i had discovered. it didn't mean much to the fellow, who doubt-less had but little better idea of the contents of the document i had been sent to fetch to his masters than would the cave man who in all probability had discovered it. the sagoth knew only that i had failed in my mission, so he took advantage of the fact to make the return journey to phutra as disagreeable as possible. i did not rebel, though i had with me the means to destroy them all. i did not dare rebel because of the consequences to dian. i intended demanding her release on the grounds that she was in no way guilty of the theft, and that my failure to recover the document had not lessened the value of the good faith i had had in offering to do so. the mahars might keep me in slavery if they chose, but dian should be returned safely to her people. i was full of my scheme when we entered phutra and i was conducted directly to the great audience-chamber. the mahars listened to the report of the sagoth chieftain, and so difficult is it to judge their emotions from their almost expressionless countenance, that i was at a loss to know how terrible might be their wrath as they learned that their great secret, upon which rested the fate of their race, might now be irretrievably lost. presently i could see that she who presided was communicating something to the sagoth interpreter--doubt-less something to be transmitted to me which might give me a forewarning of the fate which lay in store for me. one thing i had decided definitely: if they would not free dian i should turn loose upon phutra with my little arsenal. alone i might even win to freedom, and if i could learn where dian was imprisoned it would be worth the attempt to free her. my thoughts were interrupted by the interpreter. "the mighty mahars," he said, "are unable to reconcile your statement that the document is lost with your action in sending it to them by a special messenger. they wish to know if you have so soon forgotten the truth or if you are merely ignoring it." "i sent them no document," i cried. "ask them what they mean." "they say," he went on after conversing with the mahar for a moment, "that just before your return to phutra, hooja the sly one came, bringing the great secret with him. he said that you had sent him ahead with it, asking him to deliver it and return to sari where you would await him, bringing the girl with him." "dian?" i gasped. "the mahars have given over dian into the keeping of hooja." "surely," he replied. "what of it? she is only a gilak," as you or i would say, "she is only a cow." chapter vi a pendent world the mahars set me free as they had promised, but with strict injunctions never to approach phutra or any other mahar city. they also made it perfectly plain that they considered me a dangerous creature, and that having wiped the slate clean in so far as they were under obligations to me, they now considered me fair prey. should i again fall into their hands, they intimated it would go ill with me. they would not tell me in which direction hooja had set forth with dian, so i departed from phutra, filled with bitterness against the mahars, and rage toward the sly one who had once again robbed me of my greatest treasure. at first i was minded to go directly back to anoroc; but upon second thought turned my face toward sari, as i felt that somewhere in that direction hooja would travel, his own country lying in that general direction. of my journey to sari it is only necessary to say that it was fraught with the usual excitement and adventure, incident to all travel across the face of savage pellucidar. the dangers, however, were greatly reduced through the medium of my armament. i often wondered how it had happened that i had ever survived the first ten years of my life within the inner world, when, naked and primitively armed, i had traversed great areas of her beast-ridden surface. with the aid of my map, which i had kept with great care during my march with the sagoths in search of the great secret, i arrived at sari at last. as i topped the lofty plateau in whose rocky cliffs the principal tribe of sarians find their cave-homes, a great hue and cry arose from those who first discovered me. like wasps from their nests the hairy warriors poured from their caves. the bows with their poison-tipped arrows, which i had taught them to fashion and to use, were raised against me. swords of hammered iron--another of my innovations--menaced me, as with lusty shouts the horde charged down. it was a critical moment. before i should be recognized i might be dead. it was evident that all semblance of intertribal relationship had ceased with my going, and that my people had reverted to their former savage, suspicious hatred of all strangers. my garb must have puzzled them, too, for never before of course had they seen a man clothed in khaki and puttees. leaning my express rifle against my body i raised both hands aloft. it was the peace-sign that is recognized everywhere upon the surface of pellucidar. the charging warriors paused and surveyed me. i looked for my friend ghak, the hairy one, king of sari, and presently i saw him coming from a distance. ah, but it was good to see his mighty, hairy form once more! a friend was ghak--a friend well worth the having; and it had been some time since i had seen a friend. shouldering his way through the throng of warriors, the mighty chieftain advanced toward me. there was an expression of puzzlement upon his fine features. he crossed the space between the warriors and myself, halting before me. i did not speak. i did not even smile. i wanted to see if ghak, my principal lieutenant, would recognize me. for some time he stood there looking me over carefully. his eyes took in my large pith helmet, my khaki jacket, and bandoleers of cartridges, the two revolvers swinging at my hips, the large rifle resting against my body. still i stood with my hands above my head. he examined my puttees and my strong tan shoes--a little the worse for wear now. then he glanced up once more to my face. as his gaze rested there quite steadily for some moments i saw recognition tinged with awe creep across his countenance. presently without a word he took one of my hands in his and dropping to one knee raised my fingers to his lips. perry had taught them this trick, nor ever did the most polished courtier of all the grand courts of europe perform the little act of homage with greater grace and dignity. quickly i raised ghak to his feet, clasping both his hands in mine. i think there must have been tears in my eyes then--i know i felt too full for words. the king of sari turned toward his warriors. "our emperor has come back," he announced. "come hither and--" but he got no further, for the shouts that broke from those savage throats would have drowned the voice of heaven itself. i had never guessed how much they thought of me. as they clustered around, almost fighting for the chance to kiss my hand, i saw again the vision of empire which i had thought faded forever. with such as these i could conquer a world. with such as these i would conquer one! if the sarians had remained loyal, so too would the amozites be loyal still, and the kalians, and the suvians, and all the great tribes who had formed the federation that was to emancipate the human race of pellucidar. perry was safe with the mezops; i was safe with the sarians; now if dian were but safe with me the future would look bright indeed. it did not take long to outline to ghak all that had befallen me since i had departed from pellucidar, and to get down to the business of finding dian, which to me at that moment was of even greater importance than the very empire itself. when i told him that hooja had stolen her, he stamped his foot in rage. "it is always the sly one!" he cried. "it was hooja who caused the first trouble between you and the beautiful one. "it was hooja who betrayed our trust, and all but caused our recapture by the sagoths that time we escaped from phutra. "it was hooja who tricked you and substituted a mahar for dian when you started upon your return journey to your own world. "it was hooja who schemed and lied until he had turned the kingdoms one against another and destroyed the federation. "when we had him in our power we were foolish to let him live. next time--" ghak did not need to finish his sentence. "he has become a very powerful enemy now," i replied. "that he is allied in some way with the mahars is evidenced by the familiarity of his relations with the sagoths who were accompanying me in search of the great secret, for it must have been hooja whom i saw conversing with them just before we reached the valley. doubtless they told him of our quest and he hastened on ahead of us, discovered the cave and stole the document. well does he deserve his appellation of the sly one." with ghak and his head men i held a number of consultations. the upshot of them was a decision to combine our search for dian with an attempt to rebuild the crumbled federation. to this end twenty warriors were despatched in pairs to ten of the leading kingdoms, with instructions to make every effort to discover the whereabouts of hooja and dian, while prosecuting their missions to the chieftains to whom they were sent. ghak was to remain at home to receive the various delegations which we invited to come to sari on the business of the federation. four hundred warriors were started for anoroc to fetch perry and the contents of the prospector, to the capitol of the empire, which was also the principal settlements of the sarians. at first it was intended that i remain at sari, that i might be in readiness to hasten forth at the first report of the discovery of dian; but i found the inaction in the face of my deep solicitude for the welfare of my mate so galling that scarce had the several units departed upon their missions before i, too, chafed to be actively engaged upon the search. it was after my second sleep, subsequent to the departure of the warriors, as i recall, that i at last went to ghak with the admission that i could no longer support the intolerable longing to be personally upon the trail of my lost love. ghak tried to dissuade me, though i could tell that his heart was with me in my wish to be away and really doing something. it was while we were arguing upon the subject that a stranger, with hands above his head, entered the village. he was immediately surrounded by warriors and conducted to ghak's presence. the fellow was a typical cave man-squat muscular, and hairy, and of a type i had not seen before. his features, like those of all the primeval men of pellucidar, were regular and fine. his weapons consisted of a stone ax and knife and a heavy knobbed bludgeon of wood. his skin was very white. "who are you?" asked ghak. "and whence come you?" "i am kolk, son of goork, who is chief of the thurians," replied the stranger. "from thuria i have come in search of the land of amoz, where dwells dacor, the strong one, who stole my sister, canda, the grace-ful one, to be his mate. "we of thuria had heard of a great chieftain who has bound together many tribes, and my father has sent me to dacor to learn if there be truth in these stories, and if so to offer the services of thuria to him whom we have heard called emperor." "the stories are true," replied ghak, "and here is the emperor of whom you have heard. you need travel no farther." kolk was delighted. he told us much of the wonderful resources of thuria, the land of awful shadow, and of his long journey in search of amoz. "and why," i asked, "does goork, your father, desire to join his kingdom to the empire?" "there are two reasons," replied the young man. "forever have the mahars, who dwell beyond the lidi plains which lie at the farther rim of the land of awful shadow, taken heavy toll of our people, whom they either force into lifelong slavery or fatten for their feasts. we have heard that the great emperor makes successful war upon the mahars, against whom we should be glad to fight. "recently has another reason come. upon a great island which lies in the sojar az, but a short distance from our shores, a wicked man has collected a great band of outcast warriors of all tribes. even are there many sagoths among them, sent by the mahars to aid the wicked one. "this band makes raids upon our villages, and it is constantly growing in size and strength, for the mahars give liberty to any of their male prisoners who will promise to fight with this band against the enemies of the mahars. it is the purpose of the mahars thus to raise a force of our own kind to combat the growth and menace of the new empire of which i have come to seek information. all this we learned from one of our own warriors who had pretended to sympathize with this band and had then escaped at the first opportunity." "who could this man be," i asked ghak, "who leads so vile a movement against his own kind?" "his name is hooja," spoke up kolk, answering my question. ghak and i looked at each other. relief was written upon his countenance and i know that it was beating strongly in my heart. at last we had discovered a tangible clue to the whereabouts of hooja--and with the clue a guide! but when i broached the subject to kolk he demurred. he had come a long way, he explained, to see his sister and to confer with dacor. moreover, he had instructions from his father which he could not ignore lightly. but even so he would return with me and show me the way to the island of the thurian shore if by doing so we might accomplish anything. "but we cannot," he urged. "hooja is powerful. he has thousands of warriors. he has only to call upon his mahar allies to receive a countless horde of sagoths to do his bidding against his human enemies. "let us wait until you may gather an equal horde from the kingdoms of your empire. then we may march against hooja with some show of success. "but first must you lure him to the mainland, for who among you knows how to construct the strange things that carry hooja and his band back and forth across the water? "we are not island people. we do not go upon the water. we know nothing of such things." i couldn't persuade him to do more than direct me upon the way. i showed him my map, which now included a great area of country extending from anoroc upon the east to sari upon the west, and from the river south of the mountains of the clouds north to amoz. as soon as i had explained it to him he drew a line with his finger, showing a sea-coast far to the west and south of sari, and a great circle which he said marked the extent of the land of awful shadow in which lay thuria. the shadow extended southeast of the coast out into the sea half-way to a large island, which he said was the seat of hooja's traitorous government. the island itself lay in the light of the noonday sun. northwest of the coast and embracing a part of thuria lay the lidi plains, upon the northwestern verge of which was situated the mahar city which took such heavy toll of the thurians. thus were the unhappy people now between two fires, with hooja upon one side and the mahars upon the other. i did not wonder that they sent out an appeal for succor. though ghak and kolk both attempted to dissuade me, i was determined to set out at once, nor did i delay longer than to make a copy of my map to be given to perry that he might add to his that which i had set down since we parted. i left a letter for him as well, in which among other things i advanced the theory that the sojar az, or great sea, which kolk mentioned as stretching eastward from thuria, might indeed be the same mighty ocean as that which, swinging around the southern end of a continent ran northward along the shore opposite phutra, mingling its waters with the huge gulf upon which lay sari, amoz, and greenwich. against this possibility i urged him to hasten the building of a fleet of small sailing-vessels, which we might utilize should i find it impossible to entice hooja's horde to the mainland. i told ghak what i had written, and suggested that as soon as he could he should make new treaties with the various kingdoms of the empire, collect an army and march toward thuria--this of course against the possibility of my detention through some cause or other. kolk gave me a sign to his father--a lidi, or beast of burden, crudely scratched upon a bit of bone, and beneath the lidi a man and a flower; all very rudely done perhaps, but none the less effective as i well knew from my long years among the primitive men of pellucidar. the lidi is the tribal beast of the thurians; the man and the flower in the combination in which they appeared bore a double significance, as they constituted not only a message to the effect that the bearer came in peace, but were also kolk's signature. and so, armed with my credentials and my small arsenal, i set out alone upon my quest for the dearest girl in this world or yours. kolk gave me explicit directions, though with my map i do not believe that i could have gone wrong. as a matter of fact i did not need the map at all, since the principal landmark of the first half of my journey, a gigantic mountain-peak, was plainly visible from sari, though a good hundred miles away. at the southern base of this mountain a river rose and ran in a westerly direction, finally turning south and emptying into the sojar az some forty miles northeast of thuria. all that i had to do was follow this river to the sea and then follow the coast to thuria. two hundred and forty miles of wild mountain and primeval jungle, of untracked plain, of nameless rivers, of deadly swamps and savage forests lay ahead of me, yet never had i been more eager for an adventure than now, for never had more depended upon haste and success. i do not know how long a time that journey required, and only half did i appreciate the varied wonders that each new march unfolded before me, for my mind and heart were filled with but a single image--that of a perfect girl whose great, dark eyes looked bravely forth from a frame of raven hair. it was not until i had passed the high peak and found the river that my eyes first discovered the pendent world, the tiny satellite which hangs low over the surface of pellucidar casting its perpetual shadow always upon the same spot--the area that is known here as the land of awful shadow, in which dwells the tribe of thuria. from the distance and the elevation of the highlands where i stood the pellucidarian noonday moon showed half in sunshine and half in shadow, while directly beneath it was plainly visible the round dark spot upon the surface of pellucidar where the sun has never shone. from where i stood the moon appeared to hang so low above the ground as almost to touch it; but later i was to learn that it floats a mile above the surface--which seems indeed quite close for a moon. following the river downward i soon lost sight of the tiny planet as i entered the mazes of a lofty forest. nor did i catch another glimpse of it for some time--several marches at least. however, when the river led me to the sea, or rather just before it reached the sea, of a sudden the sky became overcast and the size and luxuriance of the vegetation diminished as by magic--as if an omni-potent hand had drawn a line upon the earth, and said: "upon this side shall the trees and the shrubs, the grasses and the flowers, riot in profusion of rich colors, gigantic size and bewildering abundance; and upon that side shall they be dwarfed and pale and scant." instantly i looked above, for clouds are so uncommon in the skies of pellucidar--they are practically unknown except above the mightiest mountain ranges--that it had given me something of a start to discover the sun obliterated. but i was not long in coming to a realization of the cause of the shadow. above me hung another world. i could see its mountains and valleys, oceans, lakes, and rivers, its broad, grassy plains and dense forests. but too great was the distance and too deep the shadow of its under side for me to distinguish any movement as of animal life. instantly a great curiosity was awakened within me. the questions which the sight of this planet, so tantalizingly close, raised in my mind were numerous and unanswerable. was it inhabited? if so, by what manner and form of creature? were its people as relatively diminutive as their little world, or were they as disproportionately huge as the lesser attraction of gravity upon the surface of their globe would permit of their being? as i watched it, i saw that it was revolving upon an axis that lay parallel to the surface of pellucidar, so that during each revolution its entire surface was once exposed to the world below and once bathed in the heat of the great sun above. the little world had that which pellucidar could not have--a day and night, and--greatest of boons to one outer-earthly born--time. here i saw a chance to give time to pellucidar, using this mighty clock, revolving perpetually in the heavens, to record the passage of the hours for the earth below. here should be located an observatory, from which might be flashed by wireless to every corner of the empire the correct time once each day. that this time would be easily measured i had no doubt, since so plain were the landmarks upon the under surface of the satellite that it would be but necessary to erect a simple instrument and mark the instant of passage of a given landmark across the instrument. but then was not the time for dreaming; i must devote my mind to the purpose of my journey. so i hastened onward beneath the great shadow. as i advanced i could not but note the changing nature of the vegetation and the paling of its hues. the river led me a short distance within the shadow before it emptied into the sojar az. then i continued in a southerly direction along the coast toward the village of thuria, where i hoped to find goork and deliver to him my credentials. i had progressed no great distance from the mouth of the river when i discerned, lying some distance at sea, a great island. this i assumed to be the stronghold of hooja, nor did i doubt that upon it even now was dian. the way was most difficult, since shortly after leaving the river i encountered lofty cliffs split by numerous long, narrow fiords, each of which necessitated a considerable detour. as the crow flies it is about twenty miles from the mouth of the river to thuria, but before i had covered half of it i was fagged. there was no familiar fruit or vegetable growing upon the rocky soil of the cliff-tops, and i would have fared ill for food had not a hare broken cover almost beneath my nose. i carried bow and arrows to conserve my ammunition-supply, but so quick was the little animal that i had no time to draw and fit a shaft. in fact my dinner was a hundred yards away and going like the proverbial bat when i dropped my six-shooter on it. it was a pretty shot and when coupled with a good dinner made me quite contented with myself. after eating i lay down and slept. when i awoke i was scarcely so self-satisfied, for i had not more than opened my eyes before i became aware of the presence, barely a hundred yards from me, of a pack of some twenty huge wolf-dogs--the things which perry insisted upon calling hyaenodons--and almost simultaneously i discovered that while i slept my revolvers, rifle, bow, arrows, and knife had been stolen from me. and the wolf-dog pack was preparing to rush me. chapter vii from plight to plight i have never been much of a runner; i hate running. but if ever a sprinter broke into smithereens all world's records it was i that day when i fled before those hideous beasts along the narrow spit of rocky cliff between two narrow fiords toward the sojar az. just as i reached the verge of the cliff the foremost of the brutes was upon me. he leaped and closed his massive jaws upon my shoulder. the momentum of his flying body, added to that of my own, carried the two of us over the cliff. it was a hideous fall. the cliff was almost perpendicular. at its foot broke the sea against a solid wall of rock. we struck the cliff-face once in our descent and then plunged into the salt sea. with the impact with the water the hyaenodon released his hold upon my shoulder. as i came sputtering to the surface i looked about for some tiny foot- or hand-hold where i might cling for a moment of rest and recuperation. the cliff itself offered me nothing, so i swam toward the mouth of the fiord. at the far end i could see that erosion from above had washed down sufficient rubble to form a narrow ribbon of beach. toward this i swam with all my strength. not once did i look behind me, since every unnecessary movement in swimming detracts so much from one's endurance and speed. not until i had drawn myself safely out upon the beach did i turn my eyes back toward the sea for the hyaenodon. he was swimming slowly and apparently painfully toward the beach upon which i stood. i watched him for a long time, wondering why it was that such a doglike animal was not a better swimmer. as he neared me i realized that he was weakening rapidly. i had gathered a handful of stones to be ready for his assault when he landed, but in a moment i let them fall from my hands. it was evident that the brute either was no swimmer or else was severely injured, for by now he was making practically no headway. indeed, it was with quite apparent difficulty that he kept his nose above the surface of the sea. he was not more than fifty yards from shore when he went under. i watched the spot where he had disappeared, and in a moment i saw his head reappear. the look of dumb misery in his eyes struck a chord in my breast, for i love dogs. i forgot that he was a vicious, primordial wolf-thing--a man-eater, a scourge, and a terror. i saw only the sad eyes that looked like the eyes of raja, my dead collie of the outer world. i did not stop to weigh and consider. in other words, i did not stop to think, which i believe must be the way of men who do things--in contradistinction to those who think much and do nothing. instead, i leaped back into the water and swam out toward the drowning beast. at first he showed his teeth at my approach, but just before i reached him he went under for the second time, so that i had to dive to get him. i grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and though he weighed as much as a shetland pony, i managed to drag him to shore and well up upon the beach. here i found that one of his forelegs was broken--the crash against the cliff-face must have done it. by this time all the fight was out of him, so that when i had gathered a few tiny branches from some of the stunted trees that grew in the crevices of the cliff, and returned to him he permitted me to set his broken leg and bind it in splints. i had to tear part of my shirt into bits to obtain a bandage, but at last the job was done. then i sat stroking the savage head and talking to the beast in the man-dog talk with which you are familiar, if you ever owned and loved a dog. when he is well, i thought, he probably will turn upon me and attempt to devour me, and against that eventuality i gathered together a pile of rocks and set to work to fashion a stone-knife. we were bottled up at the head of the fiord as completely as if we had been behind prison bars. before us spread the sojar az, and elsewhere about us rose unscalable cliffs. fortunately a little rivulet trickled down the side of the rocky wall, giving us ample supply of fresh water--some of which i kept constantly beside the hyaenodon in a huge, bowl-shaped shell, of which there were countless numbers among the rubble of the beach. for food we subsisted upon shellfish and an occasional bird that i succeeded in knocking over with a rock, for long practice as a pitcher on prep-school and varsity nines had made me an excellent shot with a hand-thrown missile. it was not long before the hyaenodon's leg was sufficiently mended to permit him to rise and hobble about on three legs. i shall never forget with what intent interest i watched his first attempt. close at my hand lay my pile of rocks. slowly the beast came to his three good feet. he stretched himself, lowered his head, and lapped water from the drinking-shell at his side, turned and looked at me, and then hobbled off toward the cliffs. thrice he traversed the entire extent of our prison, seeking, i imagine, a loop-hole for escape, but finding none he returned in my direction. slowly he came quite close to me, sniffed at my shoes, my puttees, my hands, and then limped off a few feet and lay down again. now that he was able to get around, i was a little uncertain as to the wisdom of my impulsive mercy. how could i sleep with that ferocious thing prowling about the narrow confines of our prison? should i close my eyes it might be to open them again to the feel of those mighty jaws at my throat. to say the least, i was uncomfortable. i have had too much experience with dumb animals to bank very strongly on any sense of gratitude which may be attributed to them by inexperienced sentimentalists. i believe that some animals love their masters, but i doubt very much if their affection is the outcome of gratitude--a characteristic that is so rare as to be only occasionally traceable in the seemingly unselfish acts of man himself. but finally i was forced to sleep. tired nature would be put off no longer. i simply fell asleep, willy nilly, as i sat looking out to sea. i had been very uncomfortable since my ducking in the ocean, for though i could see the sunlight on the water half-way toward the island and upon the island itself, no ray of it fell upon us. we were well within the land of awful shadow. a perpetual half-warmth pervaded the atmosphere, but clothing was slow in drying, and so from loss of sleep and great physical discomfort, i at last gave way to nature's demands and sank into profound slumber. when i awoke it was with a start, for a heavy body was upon me. my first thought was that the hyaenodon had at last attacked me, but as my eyes opened and i struggled to rise, i saw that a man was astride me and three others bending close above him. i am no weakling--and never have been. my experience in the hard life of the inner world has turned my thews to steel. even such giants as ghak the hairy one have praised my strength; but to it is added another quality which they lack--science. the man upon me held me down awkwardly, leaving me many openings--one of which i was not slow in taking advantage of, so that almost before the fellow knew that i was awake i was upon my feet with my arms over his shoulders and about his waist and had hurled him heavily over my head to the hard rubble of the beach, where he lay quite still. in the instant that i arose i had seen the hyaenodon lying asleep beside a boulder a few yards away. so nearly was he the color of the rock that he was scarcely discernible. evidently the newcomers had not seen him. i had not more than freed myself from one of my antagonists before the other three were upon me. they did not work silently now, but charged me with savage cries--a mistake upon their part. the fact that they did not draw their weapons against me convinced me that they desired to take me alive; but i fought as desperately as if death loomed immediate and sure. the battle was short, for scarce had their first wild whoop reverberated through the rocky fiord, and they had closed upon me, than a hairy mass of demoniacal rage hurtled among us. it was the hyaenodon! in an instant he had pulled down one of the men, and with a single shake, terrier-like, had broken his neck. then he was upon another. in their efforts to vanquish the wolf-dog the savages forgot all about me, thus giving me an instant in which to snatch a knife from the loin-string of him who had first fallen and account for another of them. almost simultaneously the hyaenodon pulled down the remaining enemy, crushing his skull with a single bite of those fearsome jaws. the battle was over--unless the beast considered me fair prey, too. i waited, ready for him with knife and bludgeon--also filched from a dead foeman; but he paid no attention to me, falling to work instead to devour one of the corpses. the beast bad been handicapped but little by his splinted leg; but having eaten he lay down and commenced to gnaw at the bandage. i was sitting some little distance away devouring shellfish, of which, by the way, i was becoming exceedingly tired. presently, the hyaenodon arose and came toward me. i did not move. he stopped in front of me and deliberately raised his bandaged leg and pawed my knee. his act was as intelligible as words--he wished the bandage removed. i took the great paw in one hand and with the other hand untied and unwound the bandage, removed the splints and felt of the injured member. as far as i could judge the bone was completely knit. the joint was stiff; when i bent it a little the brute winced--but he neither growled nor tried to pull away. very slowly and gently i rubbed the joint and applied pressure to it for a few moments. then i set it down upon the ground. the hyaenodon walked around me a few times, and then lay down at my side, his body touching mine. i laid my hand upon his head. he did not move. slowly, i scratched about his ears and neck and down beneath the fierce jaws. the only sign he gave was to raise his chin a trifle that i might better caress him. that was enough! from that moment i have never again felt suspicion of raja, as i immediately named him. somehow all sense of loneliness vanished, too--i had a dog! i had never guessed precisely what it was that was lacking to life in pellucidar, but now i knew it was the total absence of domestic animals. man here had not yet reached the point where he might take the time from slaughter and escaping slaughter to make friends with any of the brute creation. i must qualify this statement a trifle and say that this was true of those tribes with which i was most familiar. the thurians do domesticate the colossal lidi, traversing the great lidi plains upon the backs of these grotesque and stupendous monsters, and possibly there may also be other, far-distant peoples within the great world, who have tamed others of the wild things of jungle, plain or mountain. the thurians practice agriculture in a crude sort of way. it is my opinion that this is one of the earliest steps from savagery to civilization. the taming of wild beasts and their domestication follows. perry argues that wild dogs were first domesticated for hunting purposes; but i do not agree with him. i believe that if their domestication were not purely the result of an accident, as, for example, my taming of the hyaenodon, it came about through the desire of tribes who had previously domesticated flocks and herds to have some strong, ferocious beast to guard their roaming property. however, i lean rather more strongly to the theory of accident. as i sat there upon the beach of the little fiord eating my unpalatable shell-fish, i commenced to wonder how it had been that the four savages had been able to reach me, though i had been unable to escape from my natural prison. i glanced about in all directions, searching for an explanation. at last my eyes fell upon the bow of a small dugout protruding scarce a foot from behind a large boulder lying half in the water at the edge of the beach. at my discovery i leaped to my feet so suddenly that it brought raja, growling and bristling, upon all fours in an instant. for the moment i had forgotten him. but his savage rumbling did not cause me any uneasiness. he glanced quickly about in all directions as if searching for the cause of my excitement. then, as i walked rapidly down toward the dugout, he slunk silently after me. the dugout was similar in many respects to those which i had seen in use by the mezops. in it were four paddles. i was much delighted, as it promptly offered me the escape i had been craving. i pushed it out into water that would float it, stepped in and called to raja to enter. at first he did not seem to understand what i wished of him, but after i had paddled out a few yards he plunged through the surf and swam after me. when he had come alongside i grasped the scruff of his neck, and after a considerable struggle, in which i several times came near to overturning the canoe, i managed to drag him aboard, where he shook himself vigorously and squatted down before me. after emerging from the fiord, i paddled southward along the coast, where presently the lofty cliffs gave way to lower and more level country. it was here somewhere that i should come upon the principal village of the thurians. when, after a time, i saw in the distance what i took to be huts in a clearing near the shore, i drew quickly into land, for though i had been furnished credentials by kolk, i was not sufficiently familiar with the tribal characteristics of these people to know whether i should receive a friendly welcome or not; and in case i should not, i wanted to be sure of having a canoe hidden safely away so that i might undertake the trip to the island, in any event--provided, of course, that i escaped the thurians should they prove belligerent. at the point where i landed the shore was quite low. a forest of pale, scrubby ferns ran down almost to the beach. here i dragged up the dugout, hiding it well within the vegetation, and with some loose rocks built a cairn upon the beach to mark my cache. then i turned my steps toward the thurian village. as i proceeded i began to speculate upon the possible actions of raja when we should enter the presence of other men than myself. the brute was padding softly at my side, his sensitive nose constantly atwitch and his fierce eyes moving restlessly from side to side--nothing would ever take raja unawares! the more i thought upon the matter the greater became my perturbation. i did not want raja to attack any of the people upon whose friendship i so greatly depended, nor did i want him injured or slain by them. i wondered if raja would stand for a leash. his head as he paced beside me was level with my hip. i laid my hand upon it caressingly. as i did so he turned and looked up into my face, his jaws parting and his red tongue lolling as you have seen your own dog's beneath a love pat. "just been waiting all your life to be tamed and loved, haven't you, old man?" i asked. "you're nothing but a good pup, and the man who put the hyaeno in your name ought to be sued for libel." raja bared his mighty fangs with upcurled, snarling lips and licked my hand. "you're grinning, you old fraud, you!" i cried. "if you're not, i'll eat you. i'll bet a doughnut you're nothing but some kid's poor old fido, masquerading around as a real, live man-eater." raja whined. and so we walked on together toward thuria--i talking to the beast at my side, and he seeming to enjoy my company no less than i enjoyed his. if you don't think it's lonesome wandering all by yourself through savage, unknown pellucidar, why, just try it, and you will not wonder that i was glad of the company of this first dog--this living replica of the fierce and now extinct hyaenodon of the outer crust that hunted in savage packs the great elk across the snows of southern france, in the days when the mastodon roamed at will over the broad continent of which the british isles were then a part, and perchance left his footprints and his bones in the sands of atlantis as well. thus i dreamed as we moved on toward thuria. my dreaming was rudely shattered by a savage growl from raja. i looked down at him. he had stopped in his tracks as one turned to stone. a thin ridge of stiff hair bristled along the entire length of his spine. his yellow green eyes were fastened upon the scrubby jungle at our right. i fastened my fingers in the bristles at his neck and turned my eyes in the direction that his pointed. at first i saw nothing. then a slight movement of the bushes riveted my attention. i thought it must be some wild beast, and was glad of the primitive weapons i had taken from the bodies of the warriors who had attacked me. presently i distinguished two eyes peering at us from the vegetation. i took a step in their direction, and as i did so a youth arose and fled precipitately in the direction we had been going. raja struggled to be after him, but i held tightly to his neck, an act which he did not seem to relish, for he turned on me with bared fangs. i determined that now was as good a time as any to discover just how deep was raja's affection for me. one of us could be master, and logically i was the one. he growled at me. i cuffed him sharply across the nose. he looked it me for a moment in surprised bewilderment, and then he growled again. i made another feint at him, expecting that it would bring him at my throat; but instead he winced and crouched down. raja was subdued! i stooped and patted him. then i took a piece of the rope that constituted a part of my equipment and made a leash for him. thus we resumed our journey toward thuria. the youth who had seen us was evidently of the thurians. that he had lost no time in racing homeward and spreading the word of my coming was evidenced when we had come within sight of the clearing, and the village--the first real village, by the way, that i had ever seen constructed by human pellucidarians. there was a rude rectangle walled with logs and boulders, in which were a hundred or more thatched huts of similar construction. there was no gate. ladders that could be removed by night led over the palisade. before the village were assembled a great concourse of warriors. inside i could see the heads of women and children peering over the top of the wall; and also, farther back, the long necks of lidi, topped by their tiny heads. lidi, by the way, is both the singular and plural form of the noun that describes the huge beasts of burden of the thurians. they are enormous quadrupeds, eighty or a hundred feet long, with very small heads perched at the top of very long, slender necks. their heads are quite forty feet from the ground. their gait is slow and deliberate, but so enormous are their strides that, as a matter of fact, they cover the ground quite rapidly. perry has told me that they are almost identical with the fossilized remains of the diplodocus of the outer crust's jurassic age. i have to take his word for it--and i guess you will, unless you know more of such matters than i. as we came in sight of the warriors the men set up a great jabbering. their eyes were wide in astonishment--not only, i presume, because of my strange garmenture, but as well from the fact that i came in company with a jalok, which is the pellucidarian name of the hyaenodon. raja tugged at his leash, growling and showing his long white fangs. he would have liked nothing better than to be at the throats of the whole aggregation; but i held him in with the leash, though it took all my strength to do it. my free hand i held above my head, palm out, in token of the peacefulness of my mission. in the foreground i saw the youth who had discovered us, and i could tell from the way he carried himself that he was quite overcome by his own importance. the warriors about him were all fine looking fellows, though shorter and squatter than the sarians or the amozites. their color, too, was a bit lighter, owing, no doubt, to the fact that much of their lives is spent within the shadow of the world that hangs forever above their country. a little in advance of the others was a bearded fellow tricked out in many ornaments. i didn't need to ask to know that he was the chieftain--doubtless goork, father of kolk. now to him i addressed myself. "i am david," i said, "emperor of the federated kingdoms of pellucidar. doubtless you have heard of me?" he nodded his head affirmatively. "i come from sari," i continued, "where i just met kolk, the son of goork. i bear a token from kolk to his father, which will prove that i am a friend." again the warrior nodded. "i am goork," he said. "where is the token?" "here," i replied, and fished into the game-bag where i had placed it. goork and his people waited in silence. my hand searched the inside of the bag. it was empty! the token had been stolen with my arms! chapter viii captive when goork and his people saw that i had no token they commenced to taunt me. "you do not come from kolk, but from the sly one!" they cried. "he has sent you from the island to spy upon us. go away, or we will set upon you and kill you." i explained that all my belongings had been stolen from me, and that the robber must have taken the token too; but they didn't believe me. as proof that i was one of hooja's people, they pointed to my weapons, which they said were ornamented like those of the island clan. further, they said that no good man went in company with a jalok--and that by this line of reasoning i certainly was a bad man. i saw that they were not naturally a war-like tribe, for they preferred that i leave in peace rather than force them to attack me, whereas the sarians would have killed a suspicious stranger first and inquired into his purposes later. i think raja sensed their antagonism, for he kept tugging at his leash and growling ominously. they were a bit in awe of him, and kept at a safe distance. it was evident that they could not comprehend why it was that this savage brute did not turn upon me and rend me. i wasted a long time there trying to persuade goork to accept me at my own valuation, but he was too canny. the best he would do was to give us food, which he did, and direct me as to the safest portion of the island upon which to attempt a landing, though even as he told me i am sure that he thought my request for information but a blind to deceive him as to my true knowledge of the insular stronghold. at last i turned away from them--rather disheartened, for i had hoped to be able to enlist a considerable force of them in an attempt to rush hooja's horde and rescue dian. back along the beach toward the hidden canoe we made our way. by the time we came to the cairn i was dog-tired. throwing myself upon the sand i soon slept, and with raja stretched out beside me i felt a far greater security than i had enjoyed for a long time. i awoke much refreshed to find raja's eyes glued upon me. the moment i opened mine he rose, stretched himself, and without a backward glance plunged into the jungle. for several minutes i could hear him crashing through the brush. then all was silent. i wondered if he had left me to return to his fierce pack. a feeling of loneliness overwhelmed me. with a sigh i turned to the work of dragging the canoe down to the sea. as i entered the jungle where the dugout lay a hare darted from beneath the boat's side, and a well-aimed cast of my javelin brought it down. i was hungry--i had not realized it before--so i sat upon the edge of the canoe and devoured my repast. the last remnants gone, i again busied myself with preparations for my expedition to the island. i did not know for certain that dian was there; but i surmised as much. nor could i guess what obstacles might confront me in an effort to rescue her. for a time i loitered about after i had the canoe at the water's edge, hoping against hope that raja would return; but he did not, so i shoved the awkward craft through the surf and leaped into it. i was still a little downcast by the desertion of my new-found friend, though i tried to assure myself that it was nothing but what i might have expected. the savage brute had served me well in the short time that we had been together, and had repaid his debt of gratitude to me, since he had saved my life, or at least my liberty, no less certainly than i had saved his life when he was injured and drowning. the trip across the water to the island was uneventful. i was mighty glad to be in the sunshine again when i passed out of the shadow of the dead world about half-way between the mainland and the island. the hot rays of the noonday sun did a great deal toward raising my spirits, and dispelling the mental gloom in which i had been shrouded almost continually since entering the land of awful shadow. there is nothing more dispiriting to me than absence of sunshine. i had paddled to the southwestern point, which goork said he believed to be the least frequented portion of the island, as he had never seen boats put off from there. i found a shallow reef running far out into the sea and rather precipitous cliffs running almost to the surf. it was a nasty place to land, and i realized now why it was not used by the natives; but at last i managed, after a good wetting, to beach my canoe and scale the cliffs. the country beyond them appeared more open and park-like than i had anticipated, since from the mainland the entire coast that is visible seems densely clothed with tropical jungle. this jungle, as i could see from the vantage-point of the cliff-top, formed but a relatively narrow strip between the sea and the more open forest and meadow of the interior. farther back there was a range of low but apparently very rocky hills, and here and there all about were visible flat-topped masses of rock--small mountains, in fact--which reminded me of pictures i had seen of landscapes in new mexico. altogether, the country was very much broken and very beautiful. from where i stood i counted no less than a dozen streams winding down from among the table-buttes and emptying into a pretty river which flowed away in a northeasterly direction toward the op-posite end of the island. as i let my eyes roam over the scene i suddenly became aware of figures moving upon the flat top of a far-distant butte. whether they were beast or human, though, i could not make out; but at least they were alive, so i determined to prosecute my search for hooja's stronghold in the general direction of this butte. to descend to the valley required no great effort. as i swung along through the lush grass and the fragrant flowers, my cudgel swinging in my hand and my javelin looped across my shoulders with its aurochs-hide strap, i felt equal to any emergency, ready for any danger. i had covered quite a little distance, and i was passing through a strip of wood which lay at the foot of one of the flat-topped hills, when i became conscious of the sensation of being watched. my life within pellucidar has rather quickened my senses of sight, hearing, and smell, and, too, certain primitive intuitive or instinctive qualities that seem blunted in civilized man. but, though i was positive that eyes were upon me, i could see no sign of any living thing within the wood other than the many, gay-plumaged birds and little monkeys which filled the trees with life, color, and action. to you it may seem that my conviction was the result of an overwrought imagination, or to the actual reality of the prying eyes of the little monkeys or the curious ones of the birds; but there is a difference which i cannot explain between the sensation of casual observation and studied espionage. a sheep might gaze at you without transmitting a warning through your subjective mind, because you are in no danger from a sheep. but let a tiger gaze fixedly at you from ambush, and unless your primitive instincts are completely calloused you will presently commence to glance furtively about and be filled with vague, unreasoning terror. thus was it with me then. i grasped my cudgel more firmly and unslung my javelin, carrying it in my left hand. i peered to left and right, but i saw nothing. then, all quite suddenly, there fell about my neck and shoulders, around my arms and body, a number of pliant fiber ropes. in a jiffy i was trussed up as neatly as you might wish. one of the nooses dropped to my ankles and was jerked up with a suddenness that brought me to my face upon the ground. then something heavy and hairy sprang upon my back. i fought to draw my knife, but hairy hands grasped my wrists and, dragging them behind my back, bound them securely. next my feet were bound. then i was turned over upon my back to look up into the faces of my captors. and what faces! imagine if you can a cross between a sheep and a gorilla, and you will have some conception of the physiognomy of the creature that bent close above me, and of those of the half-dozen others that clustered about. there was the facial length and great eyes of the sheep, and the bull-neck and hideous fangs of the gorilla. the bodies and limbs were both man and gorilla-like. as they bent over me they conversed in a mono-syllabic tongue that was perfectly intelligible to me. it was something of a simplified language that had no need for aught but nouns and verbs, but such words as it included were the same as those of the human beings of pellucidar. it was amplified by many gestures which filled in the speech-gaps. i asked them what they intended doing with me; but, like our own north american indians when questioned by a white man, they pretended not to understand me. one of them swung me to his shoulder as lightly as if i had been a shoat. he was a huge creature, as were his fellows, standing fully seven feet upon his short legs and weighing considerably more than a quarter of a ton. two went ahead of my bearer and three behind. in this order we cut to the right through the forest to the foot of the hill where precipitous cliffs appeared to bar our farther progress in this direction. but my escort never paused. like ants upon a wall, they scaled that seemingly unscalable barrier, clinging, heaven knows how, to its ragged perpendicular face. during most of the short journey to the summit i must admit that my hair stood on end. presently, however, we topped the thing and stood upon the level mesa which crowned it. immediately from all about, out of burrows and rough, rocky lairs, poured a perfect torrent of beasts similar to my captors. they clustered about, jabbering at my guards and attempting to get their hands upon me, whether from curiosity or a desire to do me bodily harm i did not know, since my escort with bared fangs and heavy blows kept them off. across the mesa we went, to stop at last before a large pile of rocks in which an opening appeared. here my guards set me upon my feet and called out a word which sounded like "gr-gr-gr!" and which i later learned was the name of their king. presently there emerged from the cavernous depths of the lair a monstrous creature, scarred from a hundred battles, almost hairless and with an empty socket where one eye had been. the other eye, sheeplike in its mildness, gave the most startling appearance to the beast, which but for that single timid orb was the most fearsome thing that one could imagine. i had encountered the black, hairless, long-tailed ape--things of the mainland--the creatures which perry thought might constitute the link between the higher orders of apes and man--but these brute-men of gr-gr-gr seemed to set that theory back to zero, for there was less similarity between the black ape-men and these creatures than there was between the latter and man, while both had many human attributes, some of which were better developed in one species and some in the other. the black apes were hairless and built thatched huts in their arboreal retreats; they kept domesticated dogs and ruminants, in which respect they were farther advanced than the human beings of pellucidar; but they appeared to have only a meager language, and sported long, apelike tails. on the other hand, gr-gr-gr's people were, for the most part, quite hairy, but they were tailless and had a language similar to that of the human race of pellucidar; nor were they arboreal. their skins, where skin showed, were white. from the foregoing facts and others that i have noted during my long life within pellucidar, which is now passing through an age analogous to some pre-glacial age of the outer crust, i am constrained to the belief that evolution is not so much a gradual transition from one form to another as it is an accident of breeding, either by crossing or the hazards of birth. in other words, it is my belief that the first man was a freak of nature--nor would one have to draw overstrongly upon his credulity to be convinced that gr-gr-gr and his tribe were also freaks. the great man-brute seated himself upon a flat rock--his throne, i imagine--just before the entrance to his lair. with elbows on knees and chin in palms he regarded me intently through his lone sheep-eye while one of my captors told of my taking. when all had been related gr-gr-gr questioned me. i shall not attempt to quote these people in their own abbreviated tongue--you would have even greater difficulty in interpreting them than did i. instead, i shall put the words into their mouths which will carry to you the ideas which they intended to convey. "you are an enemy," was gr-gr-gr's initial declaration. "you belong to the tribe of hooja." ah! so they knew hooja and he was their enemy! good! "i am an enemy of hooja," i replied. "he has stolen my mate and i have come here to take her away from him and punish hooja." "how could you do that alone?" "i do not know," i answered, "but i should have tried had you not captured me. what do you intend to do with me?" "you shall work for us." "you will not kill me?" i asked. "we do not kill except in self-defense," he replied; "self-defense and punishment. those who would kill us and those who do wrong we kill. if we knew you were one of hooja's people we might kill you, for all hooja's people are bad people; but you say you are an enemy of hooja. you may not speak the truth, but until we learn that you have lied we shall not kill you. you shall work." "if you hate hooja," i suggested, "why not let me, who hate him, too, go and punish him?" for some time gr-gr-gr sat in thought. then he raised his head and addressed my guard. "take him to his work," he ordered. his tone was final. as if to emphasize it he turned and entered his burrow. my guard conducted me farther into the mesa, where we came presently to a tiny depression or valley, at one end of which gushed a warm spring. the view that opened before me was the most surprising that i have ever seen. in the hollow, which must have covered several hundred acres, were numerous fields of growing things, and working all about with crude implements or with no implements at all other than their bare hands were many of the brute-men engaged in the first agriculture that i had seen within pellucidar. they put me to work cultivating in a patch of melons. i never was a farmer nor particularly keen for this sort of work, and i am free to confess that time never had dragged so heavily as it did during the hour or the year i spent there at that work. how long it really was i do not know, of course; but it was all too long. the creatures that worked about me were quite simple and friendly. one of them proved to be a son of gr-gr-gr. he had broken some minor tribal law, and was working out his sentence in the fields. he told me that his tribe had lived upon this hilltop always, and that there were other tribes like them dwelling upon other hilltops. they had no wars and had always lived in peace and harmony, menaced only by the larger carnivora of the island, until my kind had come under a creature called hooja, and attacked and killed them when they chanced to descend from their natural fortresses to visit their fellows upon other lofty mesas. now they were afraid; but some day they would go in a body and fall upon hooja and his people and slay them all. i explained to him that i was hooja's enemy, and asked, when they were ready to go, that i be allowed to go with them, or, better still, that they let me go ahead and learn all that i could about the village where hooja dwelt so that they might attack it with the best chance of success. gr-gr-gr's son seemed much impressed by my suggestion. he said that when he was through in the fields he would speak to his father about the matter. some time after this gr-gr-gr came through the fields where we were, and his son spoke to him upon the subject, but the old gentleman was evidently in anything but a good humor, for he cuffed the youngster and, turning upon me, informed me that he was convinced that i had lied to him, and that i was one of hooja's people. "wherefore," he concluded, "we shall slay you as soon as the melons are cultivated. hasten, therefore." and hasten i did. i hastened to cultivate the weeds which grew among the melon-vines. where there had been one sickly weed before, i nourished two healthy ones. when i found a particularly promising variety of weed growing elsewhere than among my melons, i forthwith dug it up and transplanted it among my charges. my masters did not seem to realize my perfidy. they saw me always laboring diligently in the melon-patch, and as time enters not into the reckoning of pellucidarians--even of human beings and much less of brutes and half brutes--i might have lived on indefinitely through this subterfuge had not that occurred which took me out of the melon-patch for good and all. chapter ix hooja's cutthroats appear i had built a little shelter of rocks and brush where i might crawl in and sleep out of the perpetual light and heat of the noonday sun. when i was tired or hungry i retired to my humble cot. my masters never interposed the slightest objection. as a matter of fact, they were very good to me, nor did i see aught while i was among them to indicate that they are ever else than a simple, kindly folk when left to themselves. their awe-inspiring size, terrific strength, mighty fighting-fangs, and hideous appearance are but the attributes necessary to the successful waging of their constant battle for survival, and well do they employ them when the need arises. the only flesh they eat is that of herbivorous animals and birds. when they hunt the mighty thag, the prehistoric bos of the outer crust, a single male, with his fiber rope, will catch and kill the greatest of the bulls. well, as i was about to say, i had this little shelter at the edge of my melon-patch. here i was resting from my labors on a certain occasion when i heard a great hub-bub in the village, which lay about a quarter of a mile away. presently a male came racing toward the field, shouting excitedly. as he approached i came from my shelter to learn what all the commotion might be about, for the monotony of my existence in the melon-patch must have fostered that trait of my curiosity from which it had always been my secret boast i am peculiarly free. the other workers also ran forward to meet the messenger, who quickly unburdened himself of his information, and as quickly turned and scampered back toward the village. when running these beast-men often go upon all fours. thus they leap over obstacles that would slow up a human being, and upon the level attain a speed that would make a thoroughbred look to his laurels. the result in this instance was that before i had more than assimilated the gist of the word which had been brought to the fields, i was alone, watching my co-workers speeding villageward. i was alone! it was the first time since my capture that no beast-man had been within sight of me. i was alone! and all my captors were in the village at the op-posite edge of the mesa repelling an attack of hooja's horde! it seemed from the messenger's tale that two of gr-gr-gr's great males had been set upon by a half-dozen of hooja's cutthroats while the former were peaceably returning from the thag hunt. the two had returned to the village unscratched, while but a single one of hooja's half-dozen had escaped to report the outcome of the battle to their leader. now hooja was coming to punish gr-gr-gr's people. with his large force, armed with the bows and arrows that hooja had learned from me to make, with long lances and sharp knives, i feared that even the mighty strength of the beastmen could avail them but little. at last had come the opportunity for which i waited! i was free to make for the far end of the mesa, find my way to the valley below, and while the two forces were engaged in their struggle, continue my search for hooja's village, which i had learned from the beast-men lay farther on down the river that i had been following when taken prisoner. as i turned to make for the mesa's rim the sounds of battle came plainly to my ears--the hoarse shouts of men mingled with the half-beastly roars and growls of the brute-folk. did i take advantage of my opportunity? i did not. instead, lured by the din of strife and by the desire to deliver a stroke, however feeble, against hated hooja, i wheeled and ran directly toward the village. when i reached the edge of the plateau such a scene met my astonished gaze as never before had startled it, for the unique battle-methods of the half-brutes were rather the most remarkable i had ever witnessed. along the very edge of the cliff-top stood a thin line of mighty males--the best rope-throwers of the tribe. a few feet behind these the rest of the males, with the exception of about twenty, formed a second line. still farther in the rear all the women and young children were clustered into a single group under the protection of the remaining twenty fighting males and all the old males. but it was the work of the first two lines that interested me. the forces of hooja--a great horde of savage sagoths and primeval cave men--were working their way up the steep cliff-face, their agility but slightly less than that of my captors who had clambered so nimbly aloft--even he who was burdened by my weight. as the attackers came on they paused occasionally wherever a projection gave them sufficient foothold and launched arrows and spears at the defenders above them. during the entire battle both sides hurled taunts and insults at one another--the human beings naturally excelling the brutes in the coarseness and vileness of their vilification and invective. the "firing-line" of the brute-men wielded no weapon other than their long fiber nooses. when a foeman came within range of them a noose would settle unerringly about him and he would be dragged, fighting and yelling, to the cliff-top, unless, as occasionally occurred, he was quick enough to draw his knife and cut the rope above him, in which event he usually plunged down-ward to a no less certain death than that which awaited him above. those who were hauled up within reach of the powerful clutches of the defenders had the nooses snatched from them and were catapulted back through the first line to the second, where they were seized and killed by the simple expedient of a single powerful closing of mighty fangs upon the backs of their necks. but the arrows of the invaders were taking a much heavier toll than the nooses of the defenders and i foresaw that it was but a matter of time before hooja's forces must conquer unless the brute-men changed their tactics, or the cave men tired of the battle. gr-gr-gr was standing in the center of the first line. all about him were boulders and large fragments of broken rock. i approached him and without a word toppled a large mass of rock over the edge of the cliff. it fell directly upon the head of an archer, crushing him to instant death and carrying his mangled corpse with it to the bottom of the declivity, and on its way brushing three more of the attackers into the hereafter. gr-gr-gr turned toward me in surprise. for an instant he appeared to doubt the sincerity of my motives. i felt that perhaps my time had come when he reached for me with one of his giant paws; but i dodged him, and running a few paces to the right hurled down another missile. it, too, did its allotted work of destruction. then i picked up smaller fragments and with all the control and accuracy for which i had earned justly deserved fame in my collegiate days i rained down a hail of death upon those beneath me. gr-gr-gr was coming toward me again. i pointed to the litter of rubble upon the cliff-top. "hurl these down upon the enemy!" i cried to him. "tell your warriors to throw rocks down upon them!" at my words the others of the first line, who had been interested spectators of my tactics, seized upon great boulders or bits of rock, whichever came first to their hands, and, without waiting for a command from gr-gr-gr, deluged the terrified cave men with a perfect avalanche of stone. in less than no time the cliff-face was stripped of enemies and the village of gr-gr-gr was saved. gr-gr-gr was standing beside me when the last of the cave men disappeared in rapid flight down the valley. he was looking at me intently. "those were your people," he said. "why did you kill them?" "they were not my people," i returned. "i have told you that before, but you would not believe me. will you believe me now when i tell you that i hate hooja and his tribe as much as you do? will you believe me when i tell you that i wish to be the friend of gr-gr-gr?" for some time he stood there beside me, scratching his head. evidently it was no less difficult for him to readjust his preconceived conclusions than it is for most human beings; but finally the idea percolated--which it might never have done had he been a man, or i might qualify that statement by saying had he been some men. finally he spoke. "gilak," he said, "you have made gr-gr-gr ashamed. he would have killed you. how can he reward you?" "set me free," i replied quickly. "you are free," he said. "you may go down when you wish, or you may stay with us. if you go you may always return. we are your friends." naturally, i elected to go. i explained all over again to gr-gr-gr the nature of my mission. he listened attentively; after i had done he offered to send some of his people with me to guide me to hooja's village. i was not slow in accepting his offer. first, however, we must eat. the hunters upon whom hooja's men had fallen had brought back the meat of a great thag. there would be a feast to commemorate the victory--a feast and dancing. i had never witnessed a tribal function of the brute-folk, though i had often heard strange sounds coming from the village, where i had not been allowed since my capture. now i took part in one of their orgies. it will live forever in my memory. the combination of bestiality and humanity was oftentimes pathetic, and again grotesque or horrible. beneath the glaring noonday sun, in the sweltering heat of the mesa-top, the huge, hairy creatures leaped in a great circle. they coiled and threw their fiber-ropes; they hurled taunts and insults at an imaginary foe; they fell upon the carcass of the thag and literally tore it to pieces; and they ceased only when, gorged, they could no longer move. i had to wait until the processes of digestion had released my escort from its torpor. some had eaten until their abdomens were so distended that i thought they must burst, for beside the thag there had been fully a hundred antelopes of various sizes and varied degrees of decomposition, which they had unearthed from burial beneath the floors of their lairs to grace the banquet-board. but at last we were started--six great males and myself. gr-gr-gr had returned my weapons to me, and at last i was once more upon my oft-interrupted way toward my goal. whether i should find dian at the end of my journey or no i could not even surmise; but i was none the less impatient to be off, for if only the worst lay in store for me i wished to know even the worst at once. i could scarce believe that my proud mate would still be alive in the power of hooja; but time upon pellucidar is so strange a thing that i realized that to her or to him only a few minutes might have elapsed since his subtle trickery had enabled him to steal her away from phutra. or she might have found the means either to repel his advances or escape him. as we descended the cliff we disturbed a great pack of large hyena-like beasts--hyaena spelaeus, perry calls them--who were busy among the corpses of the cave men fallen in battle. the ugly creatures were far from the cowardly things that our own hyenas are reputed to be; they stood their ground with bared fangs as we approached them. but, as i was later to learn, so formidable are the brute-folk that there are few even of the larger carnivora that will not make way for them when they go abroad. so the hyenas moved a little from our line of march, closing in again upon their feasts when we had passed. we made our way steadily down the rim of the beautiful river which flows the length of the island, coming at last to a wood rather denser than any that i had before encountered in this country. well within this forest my escort halted. "there!" they said, and pointed ahead. "we are to go no farther." thus having guided me to my destination they left me. ahead of me, through the trees, i could see what appeared to be the foot of a steep hill. toward this i made my way. the forest ran to the very base of a cliff, in the face of which were the mouths of many caves. they appeared untenanted; but i decided to watch for a while before venturing farther. a large tree, densely foliaged, offered a splendid vantage-point from which to spy upon the cliff, so i clambered among its branches where, securely hidden, i could watch what transpired about the caves. it seemed that i had scarcely settled myself in a comfortable position before a party of cave men emerged from one of the smaller apertures in the cliff-face, about fifty feet from the base. they descended into the forest and disappeared. soon after came several others from the same cave, and after them, at a short interval, a score of women and children, who came into the wood to gather fruit. there were several warriors with them--a guard, i presume. after this came other parties, and two or three groups who passed out of the forest and up the cliff-face to enter the same cave. i could not understand it. all who came out had emerged from the same cave. all who returned reentered it. no other cave gave evidence of habitation, and no cave but one of extraordinary size could have accommodated all the people whom i had seen pass in and out of its mouth. for a long time i sat and watched the coming and going of great numbers of the cave-folk. not once did one leave the cliff by any other opening save that from which i had seen the first party come, nor did any reenter the cliff through another aperture. what a cave it must be, i thought, that houses an entire tribe! but dissatisfied of the truth of my surmise, i climbed higher among the branches of the tree that i might get a better view of other portions of the cliff. high above the ground i reached a point whence i could see the summit of the hill. evidently it was a flat-topped butte similar to that on which dwelt the tribe of gr-gr-gr. as i sat gazing at it a figure appeared at the very edge. it was that of a young girl in whose hair was a gorgeous bloom plucked from some flowering tree of the forest. i had seen her pass beneath me but a short while before and enter the small cave that had swallowed all of the returning tribesmen. the mystery was solved. the cave was but the mouth of a passage that led upward through the cliff to the summit of the hill. it served merely as an avenue from their lofty citadel to the valley below. no sooner had the truth flashed upon me than the realization came that i must seek some other means of reaching the village, for to pass unobserved through this well-traveled thoroughfare would be impossible. at the moment there was no one in sight below me, so i slid quickly from my arboreal watch-tower to the ground and moved rapidly away to the right with the intention of circling the hill if necessary until i had found an unwatched spot where i might have some slight chance of scaling the heights and reaching the top unseen. i kept close to the edge of the forest, in the very midst of which the hill seemed to rise. though i carefully scanned the cliff as i traversed its base, i saw no sign of any other entrance than that to which my guides had led me. after some little time the roar of the sea broke upon my ears. shortly after i came upon the broad ocean which breaks at this point at the very foot of the great hill where hooja had found safe refuge for himself and his villains. i was just about to clamber along the jagged rocks which lie at the base of the cliff next to the sea, in search of some foothold to the top, when i chanced to see a canoe rounding the end of the island. i threw myself down behind a large boulder where i could watch the dugout and its occupants without myself being seen. they paddled toward me for a while and then, about a hundred yards from me, they turned straight in toward the foot of the frowning cliffs. from where i was it seemed that they were bent upon self-destruction, since the roar of the breakers beating upon the perpendicular rock-face appeared to offer only death to any one who might venture within their relentless clutch. a mass of rock would soon hide them from my view; but so keen was the excitement of the instant that i could not refrain from crawling forward to a point whence i could watch the dashing of the small craft to pieces on the jagged rocks that loomed before her, although i risked discovery from above to accomplish my design. when i had reached a point where i could again see the dugout, i was just in time to see it glide unharmed between two needle-pointed sentinels of granite and float quietly upon the unruffled bosom of a tiny cove. again i crouched behind a boulder to observe what would next transpire; nor did i have long to wait. the dugout, which contained but two men, was drawn close to the rocky wall. a fiber rope, one end of which was tied to the boat, was made fast about a projection of the cliff face. then the two men commenced the ascent of the almost perpendicular wall toward the summit several hundred feet above. i looked on in amazement, for, splendid climbers though the cave men of pellucidar are, i never before had seen so remarkable a feat performed. upwardly they moved without a pause, to disappear at last over the summit. when i felt reasonably sure that they had gone for a while at least i crawled from my hiding-place and at the risk of a broken neck leaped and scrambled to the spot where their canoe was moored. if they had scaled that cliff i could, and if i couldn't i should die in the attempt. but when i turned to the accomplishment of the task i found it easier than i had imagined it would be, since i immediately discovered that shallow hand and foot-holds had been scooped in the cliff's rocky face, forming a crude ladder from the base to the summit. at last i reached the top, and very glad i was, too. cautiously i raised my head until my eyes were above the cliff-crest. before me spread a rough mesa, liberally sprinkled with large boulders. there was no village in sight nor any living creature. i drew myself to level ground and stood erect. a few trees grew among the boulders. very carefully i advanced from tree to tree and boulder to boulder toward the inland end of the mesa. i stopped often to listen and look cautiously about me in every direction. how i wished that i had my revolvers and rifle! i would not have to worm my way like a scared cat toward hooja's village, nor did i relish doing so now; but dian's life might hinge upon the success of my venture, and so i could not afford to take chances. to have met suddenly with discovery and had a score or more of armed warriors upon me might have been very grand and heroic; but it would have immediately put an end to all my earthly activities, nor have accomplished aught in the service of dian. well, i must have traveled nearly a mile across that mesa without seeing a sign of anyone, when all of a sudden, as i crept around the edge of a boulder, i ran plump into a man, down on all fours like myself, crawling toward me. chapter x the raid on the cave-prison his head was turned over his shoulder as i first saw him--he was looking back toward the village. as i leaped for him his eyes fell upon me. never in my life have i seen a more surprised mortal than this poor cave man. before he could utter a single scream of warning or alarm i had my fingers on his throat and had dragged him behind the boulder, where i proceeded to sit upon him, while i figured out what i had best do with him. he struggled a little at first, but finally lay still, and so i released the pressure of my fingers at his windpipe, for which i imagine he was quite thankful--i know that i should have been. i hated to kill him in cold blood; but what else i was to do with him i could not see, for to turn him loose would have been merely to have the entire village aroused and down upon me in a moment. the fellow lay looking up at me with the surprise still deeply written on his countenance. at last, all of a sudden, a look of recognition entered his eyes. "i have seen you before," he said. "i saw you in the arena at the mahars' city of phutra when the thipdars dragged the tarag from you and your mate. i never understood that. afterward they put me in the arena with two warriors from gombul." he smiled in recollection. "it would have been the same had there been ten warriors from gombul. i slew them, winning my freedom. look!" he half turned his left shoulder toward me, exhibiting the newly healed scar of the mahars' branded mark. "then," he continued, "as i was returning to my people i met some of them fleeing. they told me that one called hooja the sly one had come and seized our village, putting our people into slavery. so i hurried hither to learn the truth, and, sure enough, here i found hooja and his wicked men living in my village, and my father's people but slaves among them. "i was discovered and captured, but hooja did not kill me. i am the chief's son, and through me he hoped to win my father's warriors back to the village to help him in a great war he says that he will soon commence. "among his prisoners is dian the beautiful one, whose brother, dacor the strong one, chief of amoz, once saved my life when he came to thuria to steal a mate. i helped him capture her, and we are good friends. so when i learned that dian the beautiful one was hooja's prisoner, i told him that i would not aid him if he harmed her. "recently one of hooja's warriors overheard me talking with another prisoner. we were planning to combine all the prisoners, seize weapons, and when most of hooja's warriors were away, slay the rest and retake our hilltop. had we done so we could have held it, for there are only two entrances--the narrow tunnel at one end and the steep path up the cliffs at the other. "but when hooja heard what we had planned he was very angry, and ordered that i die. they bound me hand and foot and placed me in a cave until all the warriors should return to witness my death; but while they were away i heard someone calling me in a muffled voice which seemed to come from the wall of the cave. when i replied the voice, which was a woman's, told me that she had overheard all that had passed between me and those who had brought me thither, and that she was dacor's sister and would find a way to help me. "presently a little hole appeared in the wall at the point from which the voice had come. after a time i saw a woman's hand digging with a bit of stone. dacor's sister made a hole in the wall between the cave where i lay bound and that in which she had been confined, and soon she was by my side and had cut my bonds. "we talked then, and i offered to make the attempt to take her away and back to the land of sari, where she told me she would be able to learn the whereabouts of her mate. just now i was going to the other end of the island to see if a boat lay there, and if the way was clear for our escape. most of the boats are always away now, for a great many of hooja's men and nearly all the slaves are upon the island of trees, where hooja is having many boats built to carry his warriors across the water to the mouth of a great river which he discovered while he was returning from phutra--a vast river that empties into the sea there." the speaker pointed toward the northeast. "it is wide and smooth and slow-running almost to the land of sari," he added. "and where is dian the beautiful one now?" i asked. i had released my prisoner as soon as i found that he was hooja's enemy, and now the pair of us were squat-ting beside the boulder while he told his story. "she returned to the cave where she had been imprisoned," he replied, "and is awaiting me there." "there is no danger that hooja will come while you are away?" "hooja is upon the island of trees," he replied. "can you direct me to the cave so that i can find it alone?" i asked. he said he could, and in the strange yet explicit fashion of the pellucidarians he explained minutely how i might reach the cave where he had been imprisoned, and through the hole in its wall reach dian. i thought it best for but one of us to return, since two could accomplish but little more than one and would double the risk of discovery. in the meantime he could make his way to the sea and guard the boat, which i told him lay there at the foot of the cliff. i told him to await us at the cliff-top, and if dian came alone to do his best to get away with her and take her to sari, as i thought it quite possible that, in case of detection and pursuit, it might be necessary for me to hold off hooja's people while dian made her way alone to where my new friend was to await her. i impressed upon him the fact that he might have to resort to trickery or even to force to get dian to leave me; but i made him promise that he would sacrifice everything, even his life, in an attempt to rescue dacor's sister. then we parted--he to take up his position where he could watch the boat and await dian, i to crawl cautiously on toward the caves. i had no difficulty in following the directions given me by juag, the name by which dacor's friend said he was called. there was the leaning tree, my first point he told me to look for after rounding the boulder where we had met. after that i crawled to the balanced rock, a huge boulder resting upon a tiny base no larger than the palm of your hand. from here i had my first view of the village of caves. a low bluff ran diagonally across one end of the mesa, and in the face of this bluff were the mouths of many caves. zig-zag trails led up to them, and narrow ledges scooped from the face of the soft rock connected those upon the same level. the cave in which juag had been confined was at the extreme end of the cliff nearest me. by taking advantage of the bluff itself, i could approach within a few feet of the aperture without being visible from any other cave. there were few people about at the time; most of these were congregated at the foot of the far end of the bluff, where they were so engrossed in excited conversation that i felt but little fear of detection. however i exercised the greatest care in approaching the cliff. after watching for a while until i caught an instant when every head was turned away from me, i darted, rabbitlike, into the cave. like many of the man-made caves of pellucidar, this one consisted of three chambers, one behind another, and all unlit except for what sunlight filtered in through the external opening. the result was gradually increasing darkness as one passed into each succeeding chamber. in the last of the three i could just distinguish objects, and that was all. as i was groping around the walls for the hole that should lead into the cave where dian was imprisoned, i heard a man's voice quite close to me. the speaker had evidently but just entered, for he spoke in a loud tone, demanding the whereabouts of one whom he had come in search of. "where are you, woman?" he cried. "hooja has sent for you." and then a woman's voice answered him: "and what does hooja want of me?" the voice was dian's. i groped in the direction of the sounds, feeling for the hole. "he wishes you brought to the island of trees," replied the man; "for he is ready to take you as his mate." "i will not go," said dian. "i will die first." "i am sent to bring you, and bring you i shall." i could hear him crossing the cave toward her. frantically i clawed the wall of the cave in which i was in an effort to find the elusive aperture that would lead me to dian's side. i heard the sound of a scuffle in the next cave. then my fingers sank into loose rock and earth in the side of the cave. in an instant i realized why i had been unable to find the opening while i had been lightly feeling the surface of the walls--dian had blocked up the hole she had made lest it arouse suspicion and lead to an early discovery of juag's escape. plunging my weight against the crumbling mass, i sent it crashing into the adjoining cavern. with it came i, david, emperor of pellucidar. i doubt if any other potentate in a world's history ever made a more undignified entrance. i landed head first on all fours, but i came quickly and was on my feet before the man in the dark guessed what had happened. he saw me, though, when i arose and, sensing that no friend came thus precipitately, turned to meet me even as i charged him. i had my stone knife in my hand, and he had his. in the darkness of the cave there was little opportunity for a display of science, though even at that i venture to say that we fought a very pretty duel. before i came to pellucidar i do not recall that i ever had seen a stone knife, and i am sure that i never fought with a knife of any description; but now i do not have to take my hat off to any of them when it comes to wielding that primitive yet wicked weapon. i could just see dian in the darkness, but i knew that she could not see my features or recognize me; and i enjoyed in anticipation, even while i was fighting for her life and mine, her dear joy when she should discover that it was i who was her deliverer. my opponent was large, but he also was active and no mean knife-man. he caught me once fairly in the shoulder--i carry the scar yet, and shall carry it to the grave. and then he did a foolish thing, for as i leaped back to gain a second in which to calm the shock of the wound he rushed after me and tried to clinch. he rather neglected his knife for the moment in his greater desire to get his hands on me. seeing the opening, i swung my left fist fairly to the point of his jaw. down he went. before ever he could scramble up again i was on him and had buried my knife in his heart. then i stood up--and there was dian facing me and peering at me through the dense gloom. "you are not juag!" she exclaimed. "who are you?" i took a step toward her, my arms outstretched. "it is i, dian," i said. "it is david." at the sound of my voice she gave a little cry in which tears were mingled--a pathetic little cry that told me all without words how far hope had gone from her--and then she ran forward and threw herself in my arms. i covered her perfect lips and her beautiful face with kisses, and stroked her thick black hair, and told her again and again what she already knew--what she had known for years--that i loved her better than all else which two worlds had to offer. we couldn't devote much time, though, to the happiness of love-making, for we were in the midst of enemies who might discover us at any moment. i drew her into the adjoining cave. thence we made our way to the mouth of the cave that had given me entrance to the cliff. here i reconnoitered for a moment, and seeing the coast clear, ran swiftly forth with dian at my side. we dodged around the cliff-end, then paused for an instant, listening. no sound reached our ears to indicate that any had seen us, and we moved cautiously onward along the way by which i had come. as we went dian told me that her captors had informed her how close i had come in search of her--even to the land of awful shadow--and how one of hooja's men who knew me had discovered me asleep and robbed me of all my possessions. and then how hooja had sent four others to find me and take me prisoner. but these men, she said, had not yet returned, or at least she had not heard of their return. "nor will you ever," i responded, "for they have gone to that place whence none ever returns." i then related my adventure with these four. we had come almost to the cliff-edge where juag should be awaiting us when we saw two men walking rapidly toward the same spot from another direction. they did not see us, nor did they see juag, whom i now discovered hiding behind a low bush close to the verge of the precipice which drops into the sea at this point. as quickly as possible, without exposing ourselves too much to the enemy, we hastened forward that we might reach juag as quickly as they. but they noticed him first and immediately charged him, for one of them had been his guard, and they had both been sent to search for him, his escape having been discovered between the time he left the cave and the time when i reached it. evidently they had wasted precious moments looking for him in other portions of the mesa. when i saw that the two of them were rushing him, i called out to attract their attention to the fact that they had more than a single man to cope with. they paused at the sound of my voice and looked about. when they discovered dian and me they exchanged a few words, and one of them continued toward juag while the other turned upon us. as he came nearer i saw that he carried in his hand one of my six-shooters, but he was holding it by the barrel, evidently mistaking it for some sort of warclub or tomahawk. i could scarce refrain a grin when i thought of the wasted possibilities of that deadly revolver in the hands of an untutored warrior of the stone age. had he but reversed it and pulled the trigger he might still be alive; maybe he is for all i know, since i did not kill him then. when he was about twenty feet from me i flung my javelin with a quick movement that i had learned from ghak. he ducked to avoid it, and instead of receiving it in his heart, for which it was intended, he got it on the side of the head. down he went all in a heap. then i glanced toward juag. he was having a most exciting time. the fellow pitted against juag was a veritable giant; he was hacking and hewing away at the poor slave with a villainous-looking knife that might have been designed for butchering mastodons. step by step, he was forcing juag back toward the edge of the cliff with a fiendish cunning that permitted his adversary no chance to side-step the terrible consequences of retreat in this direction. i saw quickly that in another moment juag must deliberately hurl himself to death over the precipice or be pushed over by his foeman. and as i saw juag's predicament i saw, too, in the same instant, a way to relieve him. leaping quickly to the side of the fellow i had just felled, i snatched up my fallen revolver. it was a desperate chance to take, and i realized it in the instant that i threw the gun up from my hip and pulled the trigger. there was no time to aim. juag was upon the very brink of the chasm. his relentless foe was pushing him hard, beating at him furiously with the heavy knife. and then the revolver spoke--loud and sharp. the giant threw his hands above his head, whirled about like a huge top, and lunged forward over the precipice. and juag? he cast a single affrighted glance in my direction--never before, of course, had he heard the report of a firearm--and with a howl of dismay he, too, turned and plunged headforemost from sight. horror-struck, i hastened to the brink of the abyss just in time to see two splashes upon the surface of the little cove below. for an instant i stood there watching with dian at my side. then, to my utter amazement, i saw juag rise to the surface and swim strongly toward the boat. the fellow had dived that incredible distance and come up unharmed! i called to him to await us below, assuring him that he need have no fear of my weapon, since it would harm only my enemies. he shook his head and mut-tered something which i could not hear at so great a distance; but when i pushed him he promised to wait for us. at the same instant dian caught my arm and pointed toward the village. my shot had brought a crowd of natives on the run toward us. the fellow whom i had stunned with my javelin had regained consciousness and scrambled to his feet. he was now racing as fast as he could go back toward his people. it looked mighty dark for dian and me with that ghastly descent between us and even the beginnings of liberty, and a horde of savage enemies advancing at a rapid run. there was but one hope. that was to get dian started for the bottom without delay. i took her in my arms just for an instant--i felt, somehow, that it might be for the last time. for the life of me i couldn't see how both of us could escape. i asked her if she could make the descent alone--if she were not afraid. she smiled up at me bravely and shrugged her shoulders. she afraid! so beautiful is she that i am always having difficulty in remembering that she is a primitive, half-savage cave girl of the stone age, and often find myself mentally limiting her capacities to those of the effete and overcivilized beauties of the outer crust. "and you?" she asked as she swung over the edge of the cliff. "i shall follow you after i take a shot or two at our friends," i replied. "i just want to give them a taste of this new medicine which is going to cure pellucidar of all its ills. that will stop them long enough for me to join you. now hurry, and tell juag to be ready to shove off the moment i reach the boat, or the instant that it becomes apparent that i cannot reach it. "you, dian, must return to sari if anything happens to me, that you may devote your life to carrying out with perry the hopes and plans for pellucidar that are so dear to my heart. promise me, dear." she hated to promise to desert me, nor would she; only shaking her head and making no move to descend. the tribesmen were nearing us. juag was shouting up to us from below. it was evident that he realized from my actions that i was attempting to persuade dian to descend, and that grave danger threatened us from above. "dive!" he cried. "dive!" i looked at dian and then down at the abyss below us. the cove appeared no larger than a saucer. how juag ever had hit it i could not guess. "dive!" cried juag. "it is the only way--there is no time to climb down." chapter xi escape dian glanced downward and shuddered. her tribe were hill people--they were not accustomed to swimming other than in quiet rivers and placid lakelets. it was not the steep that appalled her. it was the ocean--vast, mysterious, terrible. to dive into it from this great height was beyond her. i couldn't wonder, either. to have attempted it myself seemed too preposterous even for thought. only one consideration could have prompted me to leap headforemost from that giddy height--suicide; or at least so i thought at the moment. "quick!" i urged dian. "you cannot dive; but i can hold them until you reach safety." "and you?" she asked once more. "can you dive when they come too close? otherwise you could not escape if you waited here until i reached the bottom." i saw that she would not leave me unless she thought that i could make that frightful dive as we had seen juag make it. i glanced once downward; then with a mental shrug i assured her that i would dive the moment that she reached the boat. satisfied, she began the descent carefully, yet swiftly. i watched her for a moment, my heart in my mouth lest some slight mis-step or the slipping of a finger-hold should pitch her to a frightful death upon the rocks below. then i turned toward the advancing hoojans--"hoosiers," perry dubbed them--even going so far as to christen this island where hooja held sway indiana; it is so marked now upon our maps. they were coming on at a great rate. i raised my revolver, took deliberate aim at the foremost warrior, and pulled the trigger. with the bark of the gun the fellow lunged forward. his head doubled beneath him. he rolled over and over two or three times before he came to a stop, to lie very quietly in the thick grass among the brilliant wild flowers. those behind him halted. one of them hurled a javelin toward me, but it fell short--they were just beyond javelin-range. there were two armed with bows and arrows; these i kept my eyes on. all of them appeared awe-struck and frightened by the sound and effect of the firearm. they kept looking from the corpse to me and jabbering among themselves. i took advantage of the lull in hostilities to throw a quick glance over the edge toward dian. she was half-way down the cliff and progressing finely. then i turned back toward the enemy. one of the bowmen was fitting an arrow to his bow. i raised my hand. "stop!" i cried. "whoever shoots at me or advances toward me i shall kill as i killed him!" i pointed at the dead man. the fellow lowered his bow. again there was animated discussion. i could see that those who were not armed with bows were urging something upon the two who were. at last the majority appeared to prevail, for simu-taneously the two archers raised their weapons. at the same instant i fired at one of them, dropping him in his tracks. the other, however, launched his missile, but the report of my gun had given him such a start that the arrow flew wild above my head. a second after and he, too, was sprawled upon the sward with a round hole between his eyes. it had been a rather good shot. i glanced over the edge again. dian was almost at the bottom. i could see juag standing just beneath her with his hands upstretched to assist her. a sullen roar from the warriors recalled my attention toward them. they stood shaking their fists at me and yelling insults. from the direction of the village i saw a single warrior coming to join them. he was a huge fellow, and when he strode among them i could tell by his bearing and their deference toward him that he was a chieftain. he listened to all they had to tell of the happenings of the last few minutes; then with a command and a roar he started for me with the whole pack at his heels. all they had needed had arrived--namely, a brave leader. i had two unfired cartridges in the chambers of my gun. i let the big warrior have one of them, thinking that his death would stop them all. but i guess they were worked up to such a frenzy of rage by this time that nothing would have stopped them. at any rate, they only yelled the louder as he fell and increased their speed toward me. i dropped another with my remaining cartridge. then they were upon me--or almost. i thought of my promise to dian--the awful abyss was behind me--a big devil with a huge bludgeon in front of me. i grasped my six-shooter by the barrel and hurled it squarely in his face with all my strength. then, without waiting to learn the effect of my throw, i wheeled, ran the few steps to the edge, and leaped as far out over that frightful chasm as i could. i know something of diving, and all that i know i put into that dive, which i was positive would be my last. for a couple of hundred feet i fell in horizontal position. the momentum i gained was terrific. i could feel the air almost as a solid body, so swiftly i hurtled through it. then my position gradually changed to the vertical, and with hands outstretched i slipped through the air, cleaving it like a flying arrow. just before i struck the water a perfect shower of javelins fell all about. my enemies had rushed to the brink and hurled their weapons after me. by a miracle i was untouched. in the final instant i saw that i had cleared the rocks and was going to strike the water fairly. then i was in and plumbing the depths. i suppose i didn't really go very far down, but it seemed to me that i should never stop. when at last i dared curve my hands upward and divert my progress toward the surface, i thought that i should explode for air before i ever saw the sun again except through a swirl of water. but at last my head popped above the waves, and i filled my lungs with air. before me was the boat, from which juag and dian were clambering. i couldn't understand why they were deserting it now, when we were about to set out for the mainland in it; but when i reached its side i understood. two heavy javelins, missing dian and juag by but a hair's breadth, had sunk deep into the bottom of the dugout in a straight line with the grain of the wood, and split her almost in two from stem to stern. she was useless. juag was leaning over a near-by rock, his hand out-stretched to aid me in clambering to his side; nor did i lose any time in availing myself of his proffered assistance. an occasional javelin was still dropping perilously close to us, so we hastened to draw as close as possible to the cliffside, where we were comparatively safe from the missiles. here we held a brief conference, in which it was decided that our only hope now lay in making for the opposite end of the island as quickly as we could, and utilizing the boat that i had hidden there, to continue our journey to the mainland. gathering up three of the least damaged javelins that had fallen about us, we set out upon our journey, keeping well toward the south side of the island, which juag said was less frequented by the hoojans than the central portion where the river ran. i think that this ruse must have thrown our pursuers off our track, since we saw nothing of them nor heard any sound of pursuit during the greater portion of our march the length of the island. but the way juag had chosen was rough and round-about, so that we consumed one or two more marches in covering the distance than if we had followed the river. this it was which proved our undoing. those who sought us must have sent a party up the river immediately after we escaped; for when we came at last onto the river-trail not far from our destination, there can be no doubt but that we were seen by hoojans who were just ahead of us on the stream. the result was that as we were passing through a clump of bush a score of warriors leaped out upon us, and before we could scarce strike a blow in defense, had disarmed and bound us. for a time thereafter i seemed to be entirely bereft of hope. i could see no ray of promise in the future--only immediate death for juag and me, which didn't concern me much in the face of what lay in store for dian. poor child! what an awful life she had led! from the moment that i had first seen her chained in the slave caravan of the mahars until now, a prisoner of a no less cruel creature, i could recall but a few brief intervals of peace and quiet in her tempestuous existence. before i had known her, jubal the ugly one had pursued her across a savage world to make her his mate. she had eluded him, and finally i had slain him; but terror and privations, and exposure to fierce beasts had haunted her footsteps during all her lonely flight from him. and when i had returned to the outer world the old trials had recommenced with hooja in jubal's role. i could almost have wished for death to vouchsafe her that peace which fate seemed to deny her in this life. i spoke to her on the subject, suggesting that we expire together. "do not fear, david," she replied. "i shall end my life before ever hooja can harm me; but first i shall see that hooja dies." she drew from her breast a little leathern thong, to the end of which was fastened a tiny pouch. "what have you there?" i asked. "do you recall that time you stepped upon the thing you call viper in your world?" she asked. i nodded. "the accident gave you the idea for the poisoned arrows with which we fitted the warriors of the empire," she continued. "and, too, it gave me an idea. for a long time i have carried a viper's fang in my bosom. it has given me strength to endure many dangers, for it has always assured me immunity from the ultimate insult. i am not ready to die yet. first let hooja embrace the viper's fang." so we did not die together, and i am glad now that we did not. it is always a foolish thing to contemplate suicide; for no matter how dark the future may appear today, tomorrow may hold for us that which will alter our whole life in an instant, revealing to us nothing but sunshine and happiness. so, for my part, i shall always wait for tomorrow. in pellucidar, where it is always today, the wait may not be so long, and so it proved for us. as we were passing a lofty, flat-topped hill through a park-like wood a perfect network of fiber ropes fell suddenly about our guard, enmeshing them. a moment later a horde of our friends, the hairy gorilla-men, with the mild eyes and long faces of sheep leaped among them. it was a very interesting fight. i was sorry that my bonds prevented me from taking part in it, but i urged on the brutemen with my voice, and cheered old gr-gr-gr, their chief, each time that his mighty jaws crunched out the life of a hoojan. when the battle was over we found that a few of our captors had escaped, but the majority of them lay dead about us. the gorilla-men paid no further attention to them. gr-gr-gr turned to me. "gr-gr-gr and all his people are your friends," he said. "one saw the warriors of the sly one and followed them. he saw them capture you, and then he flew to the village as fast as he could go and told me all that he had seen. the rest you know. you did much for gr-gr-gr and gr-gr-gr's people. we shall always do much for you." i thanked him; and when i had told him of our escape and our destination, he insisted on accompanying us to the sea with a great number of his fierce males. nor were we at all loath to accept his escort. we found the canoe where i had hidden it, and bidding gr-gr-gr and his warriors farewell, the three of us embarked for the mainland. i questioned juag upon the feasibility of attempting to cross to the mouth of the great river of which he had told me, and up which he said we might paddle almost to sari; but he urged me not to attempt it, since we had but a single paddle and no water or food. i had to admit the wisdom of his advice, but the desire to explore this great waterway was strong upon me, arousing in me at last a determination to make the attempt after first gaining the mainland and rectifying our deficiencies. we landed several miles north of thuria in a little cove that seemed to offer protection from the heavier seas which sometimes run, even upon these usually pacific oceans of pellucidar. here i outlined to dian and juag the plans i had in mind. they were to fit the canoe with a small sail, the purposes of which i had to explain to them both--since neither had ever seen or heard of such a contrivance before. then they were to hunt for food which we could transport with us, and prepare a receptacle for water. these two latter items were more in juag's line, but he kept muttering about the sail and the wind for a long time. i could see that he was not even half convinced that any such ridiculous contraption could make a canoe move through the water. we hunted near the coast for a while, but were not rewarded with any particular luck. finally we decided to hide the canoe and strike inland in search of game. at juag's suggestion we dug a hole in the sand at the upper edge of the beach and buried the craft, smoothing the surface over nicely and throwing aside the excess material we had excavated. then we set out away from the sea. traveling in thuria is less arduous than under the midday sun which perpetually glares down on the rest of pellucidar's surface; but it has its draw-backs, one of which is the depressing influence exerted by the everlasting shade of the land of awful shadow. the farther inland we went the darker it became, until we were moving at last through an endless twilight. the vegetation here was sparse and of a weird, colorless nature, though what did grow was wondrous in shape and form. often we saw huge lidi, or beasts of burden, striding across the dim landscape, browsing upon the grotesque vegetation or drinking from the slow and sullen rivers that run down from the lidi plains to empty into the sea in thuria. what we sought was either a thag--a sort of gigantic elk--or one of the larger species of antelope, the flesh of either of which dries nicely in the sun. the bladder of the thag would make a fine water-bottle, and its skin, i figured, would be a good sail. we traveled a considerable distance inland, entirely crossing the land of awful shadow and emerging at last upon that portion of the lidi plains which lies in the pleasant sunlight. above us the pendent world revolved upon its axis, filling me especially--and dian to an almost equal state--with wonder and insatiable curiosity as to what strange forms of life existed among the hills and valleys and along the seas and rivers, which we could plainly see. before us stretched the horizonless expanses of vast pellucidar, the lidi plains rolling up about us, while hanging high in the heavens to the northwest of us i thought i discerned the many towers which marked the entrances to the distant mahar city, whose inhabitants preyed upon the thurians. juag suggested that we travel to the northeast, where, he said, upon the verge of the plain we would find a wooded country in which game should be plentiful. acting upon his advice, we came at last to a forest-jungle, through which wound innumerable game-paths. in the depths of this forbidding wood we came upon the fresh spoor of thag. shortly after, by careful stalking, we came within javelin-range of a small herd. selecting a great bull, juag and i hurled our weapons simultaneously, dian reserving hers for an emergency. the beast staggered to his feet, bellowing. the rest of the herd was up and away in an instant, only the wounded bull remaining, with lowered head and roving eyes searching for the foe. then juag exposed himself to the view of the bull--it is a part of the tactics of the hunt--while i stepped to one side behind a bush. the moment that the savage beast saw juag he charged him. juag ran straight away, that the bull might be lured past my hiding-place. on he came--tons of mighty bestial strength and rage. dian had slipped behind me. she, too, could fight a thag should emergency require. ah, such a girl! a rightful empress of a stone age by every standard which two worlds might bring to measure her! crashing down toward us came the bull thag, bellowing and snorting, with the power of a hundred outer-earthly bulls. when he was opposite me i sprang for the heavy mane that covered his huge neck. to tangle my fingers in it was the work of but an instant. then i was running along at the beast's shoulder. now, the theory upon which this hunting custom is based is one long ago discovered by experience, and that is that a thag cannot be turned from his charge once he has started toward the object of his wrath, so long as he can still see the thing he charges. he evidently believes that the man clinging to his mane is attempting to restrain him from overtaking his prey, and so he pays no attention to this enemy, who, of course, does not retard the mighty charge in the least. once in the gait of the plunging bull, it was but a slight matter to vault to his back, as cavalrymen mount their chargers upon the run. juag was still running in plain sight ahead of the bull. his speed was but a trifle less than that of the monster that pursued him. these pellucidarians are almost as fleet as deer; because i am not is one reason that i am always chosen for the close-in work of the thag-hunt. i could not keep in front of a charging thag long enough to give the killer time to do his work. i learned that the first--and last--time i tried it. once astride the bull's neck, i drew my long stone knife and, setting the point carefully over the brute's spine, drove it home with both hands. at the same instant i leaped clear of the stumbling animal. now, no vertebrate can progress far with a knife through his spine, and the thag is no exception to the rule. the fellow was down instantly. as he wallowed juag returned, and the two of us leaped in when an opening afforded the opportunity and snatched our javelins from his side. then we danced about him, more like two savages than anything else, until we got the opening we were looking for, when simultaneously, our javelins pierced his wild heart, stilling it forever. the thag had covered considerable ground from the point at which i had leaped upon him. when, after despatching him, i looked back for dian, i could see nothing of her. i called aloud, but receiving no reply, set out at a brisk trot to where i had left her. i had no difficulty in finding the self-same bush behind which we had hidden, but dian was not there. again and again i called, to be rewarded only by silence. where could she be? what could have become of her in the brief interval since i had seen her standing just behind me? chapter xii kidnaped! i searched about the spot carefully. at last i was rewarded by the discovery of her javelin, a few yards from the bush that had concealed us from the charging thag--her javelin and the indications of a struggle revealed by the trampled vegetation and the overlapping footprints of a woman and a man. filled with consternation and dismay, i followed these latter to where they suddenly disappeared a hundred yards from where the struggle had occurred. there i saw the huge imprints of a lidi's feet. the story of the tragedy was all too plain. a thurian had either been following us, or had accidentally espied dian and taken a fancy to her. while juag and i had been engaged with the thag, he had abducted her. i ran swiftly back to where juag was working over the kill. as i approached him i saw that something was wrong in this quarter as well, for the islander was standing upon the carcass of the thag, his javelin poised for a throw. when i had come nearer i saw the cause of his belligerent attitude. just beyond him stood two large jaloks, or wolf-dogs, regarding him intently--a male and a female. their behavior was rather peculiar, for they did not seem preparing to charge him. rather, they were contemplating him in an attitude of questioning. juag heard me coming and turned toward me with a grin. these fellows love excitement. i could see by his expression that he was enjoying in anticipation the battle that seemed imminent. but he never hurled his javelin. a shout of warning from me stopped him, for i had seen the remnants of a rope dangling from the neck of the male jalok. juag again turned toward me, but this time in surprise. i was abreast him in a moment and, passing him, walked straight toward the two beasts. as i did so the female crouched with bared fangs. the male, however, leaped forward to meet me, not in deadly charge, but with every expression of delight and joy which the poor animal could exhibit. it was raja--the jalok whose life i had saved, and whom i then had tamed! there was no doubt that he was glad to see me. i now think that his seeming desertion of me had been but due to a desire to search out his ferocious mate and bring her, too, to live with me. when juag saw me fondling the great beast he was filled with consternation, but i did not have much time to spare to raja while my mind was filled with the grief of my new loss. i was glad to see the brute, and i lost no time in taking him to juag and making him understand that juag, too, was to be raja's friend. with the female the matter was more difficult, but raja helped us out by growling savagely at her whenever she bared her fangs against us. i told juag of the disappearance of dian, and of my suspicions as to the explanation of the catastrophe. he wanted to start right out after her, but i suggested that with raja to help me it might be as well were he to remain and skin the thag, remove its bladder, and then return to where we had hidden the canoe on the beach. and so it was arranged that he was to do this and await me there for a reasonable time. i pointed to a great lake upon the surface of the pendent world above us, telling him that if after this lake had appeared four times i had not returned to go either by water or land to sari and fetch ghak with an army. then, calling raja after me, i set out after dian and her abductor. first i took the wolf dog to the spot where the man had fought with dian. a few paces behind us followed raja's fierce mate. i pointed to the ground where the evidences of the struggle were plainest and where the scent must have been strong to raja's nostrils. then i grasped the remnant of leash that hung about his neck and urged him forward upon the trail. he seemed to understand. with nose to ground he set out upon his task. dragging me after him, he trotted straight out upon the lidi plains, turning his steps in the direction of the thurian village. i could have guessed as much! behind us trailed the female. after a while she closed upon us, until she ran quite close to me and at raja's side. it was not long before she seemed as easy in my company as did her lord and master. we must have covered considerable distance at a very rapid pace, for we had reentered the great shadow, when we saw a huge lidi ahead of us, moving leisurely across the level plain. upon its back were two human figures. if i could have known that the jaloks would not harm dian i might have turned them loose upon the lidi and its master; but i could not know, and so dared take no chances. however, the matter was taken out of my hands presently when raja raised his head and caught sight of his quarry. with a lunge that hurled me flat and jerked the leash from my hand, he was gone with the speed of the wind after the giant lidi and its riders. at his side raced his shaggy mate, only a trifle smaller than he and no whit less savage. they did not give tongue until the lidi itself discovered them and broke into a lumbering, awkward, but none the less rapid gallop. then the two hound-beasts commenced to bay, starting with a low, plaintive note that rose, weird and hideous, to terminate in a series of short, sharp yelps. i feared that it might be the hunting-call of the pack; and if this were true, there would be slight chance for either dian or her abductor--or myself, either, as far as that was concerned. so i redoubled my efforts to keep pace with the hunt; but i might as well have attempted to distance the bird upon the wing; as i have often reminded you, i am no runner. in that instance it was just as well that i am not, for my very slowness of foot played into my hands; while had i been fleeter, i might have lost dian that time forever. the lidi, with the hounds running close on either side, had almost disappeared in the darkness that enveloped the surrounding landscape, when i noted that it was bearing toward the right. this was accounted for by the fact that raja ran upon his left side, and unlike his mate, kept leaping for the great beast's shoulder. the man on the lidi's back was prodding at the hyaenodon with his long spear, but still raja kept springing up and snapping. the effect of this was to turn the lidi toward the right, and the longer i watched the procedure the more convinced i became that raja and his mate were working together with some end in view, for the she-dog merely galloped steadily at the lidi's right about op-posite his rump. i had seen jaloks hunting in packs, and i recalled now what for the time i had not thought of--the several that ran ahead and turned the quarry back toward the main body. this was precisely what raja and his mate were doing--they were turning the lidi back toward me, or at least raja was. just why the female was keeping out of it i did not understand, unless it was that she was not entirely clear in her own mind as to precisely what her mate was attempting. at any rate, i was sufficiently convinced to stop where i was and await developments, for i could readily realize two things. one was that i could never overhaul them before the damage was done if they should pull the lidi down now. the other thing was that if they did not pull it down for a few minutes it would have completed its circle and returned close to where i stood. and this is just what happened. the lot of them were almost swallowed up in the twilight for a moment. then they reappeared again, but this time far to the right and circling back in my general direction. i waited until i could get some clear idea of the right spot to gain that i might intercept the lidi; but even as i waited i saw the beast attempt to turn still more to the right--a move that would have carried him far to my left in a much more circumscribed circle than the hyaenodons had mapped out for him. then i saw the female leap forward and head him; and when he would have gone too far to the left, raja sprang, snapping at his shoulder and held him straight. straight for me the two savage beasts were driving their quarry! it was wonderful. it was something else, too, as i realized while the monstrous beast neared me. it was like standing in the middle of the tracks in front of an approaching express-train. but i didn't dare waver; too much depended upon my meeting that hurtling mass of terrified flesh with a well-placed javelin. so i stood there, waiting to be run down and crushed by those gigantic feet, but determined to drive home my weapon in the broad breast before i fell. the lidi was only about a hundred yards from me when raja gave a few barks in a tone that differed materially from his hunting-cry. instantly both he and his mate leaped for the long neck of the ruminant. neither missed. swinging in mid-air, they hung tenaciously, their weight dragging down the creature's head and so retarding its speed that before it had reached me it was almost stopped and devoting all its energies to attempting to scrape off its attackers with its forefeet. dian had seen and recognized me, and was trying to extricate herself from the grasp of her captor, who, handicapped by his strong and agile prisoner, was unable to wield his lance effectively upon the two jaloks. at the same time i was running swiftly toward them. when the man discovered me he released his hold upon dian and sprang to the ground, ready with his lance to meet me. my javelin was no match for his longer weapon, which was used more for stabbing than as a missile. should i miss him at my first cast, as was quite probable, since he was prepared for me, i would have to face his formidable lance with nothing more than a stone knife. the outlook was scarcely entrancing. evidently i was soon to be absolutely at his mercy. seeing my predicament, he ran toward me to get rid of one antagonist before he had to deal with the other two. he could not guess, of course, that the two jaloks were hunting with me; but he doubtless thought that after they had finished the lidi they would make after the human prey--the beasts are notorious killers, often slaying wantonly. but as the thurian came raja loosened his hold upon the lidi and dashed for him, with the female close after. when the man saw them he yelled to me to help him, protesting that we should both be killed if we did not fight together. but i only laughed at him and ran toward dian. both the fierce beasts were upon the thurian simu-taneously--he must have died almost before his body tumbled to the ground. then the female wheeled toward dian. i was standing by her side as the thing charged her, my javelin ready to receive her. but again raja was too quick for me. i imagined he thought she was making for me, for he couldn't have known anything of my relations toward dian. at any rate he leaped full upon her back and dragged her down. there ensued forthwith as terrible a battle as one would wish to see if battles were gaged by volume of noise and riotousness of action. i thought that both the beasts would be torn to shreds. when finally the female ceased to struggle and rolled over on her back, her forepaws limply folded, i was sure that she was dead. raja stood over her, growling, his jaws close to her throat. then i saw that neither of them bore a scratch. the male had simply administered a severe drubbing to his mate. it was his way of teaching her that i was sacred. after a moment he moved away and let her rise, when she set about smoothing down her rumpled coat, while he came stalking toward dian and me. i had an arm about dian now. as raja came close i caught him by the neck and pulled him up to me. there i stroked him and talked to him, bidding dian do the same, until i think he pretty well understood that if i was his friend, so was dian. for a long time he was inclined to be shy of her, often baring his teeth at her approach, and it was a much longer time before the female made friends with us. but by careful kindness, by never eating without sharing our meat with them, and by feeding them from our hands, we finally won the confidence of both animals. however, that was a long time after. with the two beasts trotting after us, we returned to where we had left juag. here i had the dickens' own time keeping the female from juag's throat. of all the venomous, wicked, cruel-hearted beasts on two worlds, i think a female hyaenodon takes the palm. but eventually she tolerated juag as she had dian and me, and the five of us set out toward the coast, for juag had just completed his labors on the thag when we arrived. we ate some of the meat before starting, and gave the hounds some. all that we could we carried upon our backs. on the way to the canoe we met with no mishaps. dian told me that the fellow who had stolen her had come upon her from behind while the roaring of the thag had drowned all other noises, and that the first she had known he had disarmed her and thrown her to the back of his lidi, which had been lying down close by waiting for him. by the time the thag had ceased bellowing the fellow had got well away upon his swift mount. by holding one palm over her mouth he had prevented her calling for help. "i thought," she concluded, "that i should have to use the viper's tooth, after all." we reached the beach at last and unearthed the canoe. then we busied ourselves stepping a mast and rigging a small sail--juag and i, that is--while dian cut the thag meat into long strips for drying when we should be out in the sunlight once more. at last all was done. we were ready to embark. i had no difficulty in getting raja aboard the dugout; but ranee--as we christened her after i had explained to dian the meaning of raja and its feminine equivalent--positively refused for a time to follow her mate aboard. in fact, we had to shove off without her. after a moment, however, she plunged into the water and swam after us. i let her come alongside, and then juag and i pulled her in, she snapping and snarling at us as we did so; but, strange to relate, she didn't offer to attack us after we had ensconced her safely in the bottom alongside raja. the canoe behaved much better under sail than i had hoped--infinitely better than the battle-ship sari had--and we made good progress almost due west across the gulf, upon the opposite side of which i hoped to find the mouth of the river of which juag had told me. the islander was much interested and impressed by the sail and its results. he had not been able to understand exactly what i hoped to accomplish with it while we were fitting up the boat; but when he saw the clumsy dugout move steadily through the water without paddles, he was as delighted as a child. we made splendid headway on the trip, coming into sight of land at last. juag had been terror-stricken when he had learned that i intended crossing the ocean, and when we passed out of sight of land he was in a blue funk. he said that he had never heard of such a thing before in his life, and that always he had understood that those who ventured far from land never returned; for how could they find their way when they could see no land to steer for? i tried to explain the compass to him; and though he never really grasped the scientific explanation of it, yet he did learn to steer by it quite as well as i. we passed several islands on the journey--islands which juag told me were entirely unknown to his own island folk. indeed, our eyes may have been the first ever to rest upon them. i should have liked to stop off and explore them, but the business of empire would brook no unnecessary delays. i asked juag how hooja expected to reach the mouth of the river which we were in search of if he didn't cross the gulf, and the islander explained that hooja would undoubtedly follow the coast around. for some time we sailed up the coast searching for the river, and at last we found it. so great was it that i thought it must be a mighty gulf until the mass of driftwood that came out upon the first ebb tide convinced me that it was the mouth of a river. there were the trunks of trees uprooted by the undermining of the river banks, giant creepers, flowers, grasses, and now and then the body of some land animal or bird. i was all excitement to commence our upward journey when there occurred that which i had never before seen within pellucidar--a really terrific wind-storm. it blew down the river upon us with a ferocity and suddenness that took our breaths away, and before we could get a chance to make the shore it became too late. the best that we could do was to hold the scud-ding craft before the wind and race along in a smother of white spume. juag was terrified. if dian was, she hid it; for was she not the daughter of a once great chief, the sister of a king, and the mate of an emperor? raja and ranee were frightened. the former crawled close to my side and buried his nose against me. finally even fierce ranee was moved to seek sympathy from a human being. she slunk to dian, pressing close against her and whimpering, while dian stroked her shaggy neck and talked to her as i talked to raja. there was nothing for us to do but try to keep the canoe right side up and straight before the wind. for what seemed an eternity the tempest neither increased nor abated. i judged that we must have blown a hundred miles before the wind and straight out into an unknown sea! as suddenly as the wind rose it died again, and when it died it veered to blow at right angles to its former course in a gentle breeze. i asked juag then what our course was, for he had had the compass last. it had been on a leather thong about his neck. when he felt for it, the expression that came into his eyes told me as plainly as words what had happened--the compass was lost! the compass was lost! and we were out of sight of land without a single celestial body to guide us! even the pendent world was not visible from our position! our plight seemed hopeless to me, but i dared not let dian and juag guess how utterly dismayed i was; though, as i soon discovered, there was nothing to be gained by trying to keep the worst from juag--he knew it quite as well as i. he had always known, from the legends of his people, the dangers of the open sea beyond the sight of land. the compass, since he had learned its uses from me, had been all that he had to buoy his hope of eventual salvation from the watery deep. he had seen how it had guided me across the water to the very coast that i desired to reach, and so he had implicit confidence in it. now that it was gone, his confidence had departed, also. there seemed but one thing to do; that was to keep on sailing straight before the wind--since we could travel most rapidly along that course--until we sighted land of some description. if it chanced to be the mainland, well and good; if an island--well, we might live upon an island. we certainly could not live long in this little boat, with only a few strips of dried thag and a few quarts of water left. quite suddenly a thought occurred to me. i was surprised that it had not come before as a solution to our problem. i turned toward juag. "you pellucidarians are endowed with a wonderful instinct," i reminded him, "an instinct that points the way straight to your homes, no matter in what strange land you may find yourself. now all we have to do is let dian guide us toward amoz, and we shall come in a short time to the same coast whence we just were blown." as i spoke i looked at them with a smile of renewed hope; but there was no answering smile in their eyes. it was dian who enlightened me. "we could do all this upon land," she said. "but upon the water that power is denied us. i do not know why; but i have always heard that this is true--that only upon the water may a pellucidarian be lost. this is, i think, why we all fear the great ocean so--even those who go upon its surface in canoes. juag has told us that they never go beyond the sight of land." we had lowered the sail after the blow while we were discussing the best course to pursue. our little craft had been drifting idly, rising and falling with the great waves that were now diminishing. sometimes we were upon the crest--again in the hollow. as dian ceased speaking she let her eyes range across the limitless expanse of billowing waters. we rose to a great height upon the crest of a mighty wave. as we topped it dian gave an exclamation and pointed astern. "boats!" she cried. "boats! many, many boats!" juag and i leaped to our feet; but our little craft had now dropped to the trough, and we could see nothing but walls of water close upon either hand. we waited for the next wave to lift us, and when it did we strained our eyes in the direction that dian had indicated. sure enough, scarce half a mile away were several boats, and scattered far and wide behind us as far as we could see were many others! we could not make them out in the distance or in the brief glimpse that we caught of them before we were plunged again into the next wave canon; but they were boats. and in them must be human beings like ourselves. chapter xiii racing for life at last the sea subsided, and we were able to get a better view of the armada of small boats in our wake. there must have been two hundred of them. juag said that he had never seen so many boats before in all his life. where had they come from? juag was first to hazard a guess. "hooja," he said, "was building many boats to carry his warriors to the great river and up it toward sari. he was building them with almost all his warriors and many slaves upon the island of trees. no one else in all the history of pellucidar has ever built so many boats as they told me hooja was building. these must be hooja's boats." "and they were blown out to sea by the great storm just as we were," suggested dian. "there can be no better explanation of them," i agreed. "what shall we do?" asked juag. "suppose we make sure that they are really hooja's people," suggested dian. "it may be that they are not, and that if we run away from them before we learn definitely who they are, we shall be running away from a chance to live and find the mainland. they may be a people of whom we have never even heard, and if so we can ask them to help us--if they know the way to the mainland." "which they will not,' interposed juag. "well," i said, "it can't make our predicament any more trying to wait until we find out who they are. they are heading for us now. evidently they have spied our sail, and guess that we do not belong to their fleet." "they probably want to ask the way to the mainland themselves," said juag, who was nothing if not a pessimist. "if they want to catch us, they can do it if they can paddle faster than we can sail," i said. "if we let them come close enough to discover their identity, and can then sail faster than they can paddle, we can get away from them anyway, so we might as well wait." and wait we did. the sea calmed rapidly, so that by the time the foremost canoe had come within five hundred yards of us we could see them all plainly. every one was headed for us. the dugouts, which were of unusual length, were manned by twenty paddlers, ten to a side. besides the paddlers there were twenty-five or more warriors in each boat. when the leader was a hundred yards from us dian called our attention to the fact that several of her crew were sagoths. that convinced us that the flotilla was indeed hooja's. i told juag to hail them and get what information he could, while i remained in the bottom of our canoe as much out of sight as possible. dian lay down at full length in the bottom; i did not want them to see and recognize her if they were in truth hooja's people. "who are you?" shouted juag, standing up in the boat and making a megaphone of his palms. a figure arose in the bow of the leading canoe--a figure that i was sure i recognized even before he spoke. "i am hooja!" cried the man, in answer to juag. for some reason he did not recognize his former prisoner and slave--possibly because he had so many of them. "i come from the island of trees," he continued. "a hundred of my boats were lost in the great storm and all their crews drowned. where is the land? what are you, and what strange thing is that which flutters from the little tree in the front of your canoe?" he referred to our sail, flapping idly in the wind. "we, too, are lost," replied juag. "we know not where the land is. we are going back to look for it now." so saying he commenced to scull the canoe's nose before the wind, while i made fast the primitive sheets that held our crude sail. we thought it time to be going. there wasn't much wind at the time, and the heavy, lumbering dugout was slow in getting under way. i thought it never would gain any momentum. and all the while hooja's canoe was drawing rapidly nearer, propelled by the strong arms of his twenty paddlers. of course, their dugout was much larger than ours, and, consequently, infinitely heavier and more cumbersome; nevertheless, it was coming along at quite a clip, and ours was yet but barely moving. dian and i remained out of sight as much as possible, for the two craft were now well within bow-shot of one another, and i knew that hooja had archers. hooja called to juag to stop when he saw that our craft was moving. he was much interested in the sail, and not a little awed, as i could tell by his shouted remarks and questions. raising my head, i saw him plainly. he would have made an excellent target for one of my guns, and i had never been sorrier that i had lost them. we were now picking up speed a trifle, and he was not gaining upon us so fast as at first. in consequence, his requests that we stop suddenly changed to commands as he became aware that we were trying to escape him. "come back!" he shouted. "come back, or i'll fire!" i use the word fire because it more nearly translates into english the pellucidarian word trag, which covers the launching of any deadly missile. but juag only seized his paddle more tightly--the paddle that answered the purpose of rudder, and commenced to assist the wind by vigorous strokes. then hooja gave the command to some of his archers to fire upon us. i couldn't lie hidden in the bottom of the boat, leaving juag alone exposed to the deadly shafts, so i arose and, seizing another paddle, set to work to help him. dian joined me, though i did my best to persuade her to remain sheltered; but being a woman, she must have her own way. the instant that hooja saw us he recognized us. the whoop of triumph he raised indicated how certain he was that we were about to fall into his hands. a shower of arrows fell about us. then hooja caused his men to cease firing--he wanted us alive. none of the missiles struck us, for hooja's archers were not nearly the marksmen that are my sarians and amozites. we had now gained sufficient headway to hold our own on about even terms with hooja's paddlers. we did not seem to be gaining, though; and neither did they. how long this nerve-racking experience lasted i cannot guess, though we had pretty nearly finished our meager supply of provisions when the wind picked up a bit and we commenced to draw away. not once yet had we sighted land, nor could i understand it, since so many of the seas i had seen before were thickly dotted with islands. our plight was anything but pleasant, yet i think that hooja and his forces were even worse off than we, for they had no food nor water at all. far out behind us in a long line that curved upward in the distance, to be lost in the haze, strung hooja's two hundred boats. but one would have been enough to have taken us could it have come alongside. we had drawn some fifty yards ahead of hooja--there had been times when we were scarce ten yards in advance-and were feeling considerably safer from capture. hooja's men, working in relays, were commencing to show the effects of the strain under which they had been forced to work without food or water, and i think their weakening aided us almost as much as the slight freshening of the wind. hooja must have commenced to realize that he was going to lose us, for he again gave orders that we be fired upon. volley after volley of arrows struck about us. the distance was so great by this time that most of the arrows fell short, while those that reached us were sufficiently spent to allow us to ward them off with our paddles. however, it was a most exciting ordeal. hooja stood in the bow of his boat, alternately urging his men to greater speed and shouting epithets at me. but we continued to draw away from him. at last the wind rose to a fair gale, and we simply raced away from our pursuers as if they were standing still. juag was so tickled that he forgot all about his hunger and thirst. i think that he had never been entirely reconciled to the heathenish invention which i called a sail, and that down in the bottom of his heart he believed that the paddlers would eventually overhaul us; but now he couldn't praise it enough. we had a strong gale for a considerable time, and eventually dropped hooja's fleet so far astern that we could no longer discern them. and then--ah, i shall never forget that moment--dian sprang to her feet with a cry of "land!" sure enough, dead ahead, a long, low coast stretched across our bow. it was still a long way off, and we couldn't make out whether it was island or mainland; but at least it was land. if ever shipwrecked mariners were grateful, we were then. raja and ranee were commencing to suffer for lack of food, and i could swear that the latter often cast hungry glances upon us, though i am equally sure that no such hideous thoughts ever entered the head of her mate. we watched them both most closely, however. once while stroking ranee i managed to get a rope around her neck and make her fast to the side of the boat. then i felt a bit safer for dian. it was pretty close quarters in that little dugout for three human beings and two practically wild, man-eating dogs; but we had to make the best of it, since i would not listen to juag's suggestion that we kill and eat raja and ranee. we made good time to within a few miles of the shore. then the wind died suddenly out. we were all of us keyed up to such a pitch of anticipation that the blow was doubly hard to bear. and it was a blow, too, since we could not tell in what quarter the wind might rise again; but juag and i set to work to paddle the remaining distance. almost immediately the wind rose again from precisely the opposite direction from which it had formerly blown, so that it was mighty hard work making progress against it. next it veered again so that we had to turn and run with it parallel to the coast to keep from being swamped in the trough of the seas. and while we were suffering all these disappointments hooja's fleet appeared in the distance! they evidently had gone far to the left of our course, for they were now almost behind us as we ran parallel to the coast; but we were not much afraid of being overtaken in the wind that was blowing. the gale kept on increasing, but it was fitful, swooping down upon us in great gusts and then going almost calm for an instant. it was after one of these momentary calms that the catastrophe occurred. our sail hung limp and our momentum decreased when of a sudden a particularly vicious squall caught us. before i could cut the sheets the mast had snapped at the thwart in which it was stepped. the worst had happened; juag and i seized paddles and kept the canoe with the wind; but that squall was the parting shot of the gale, which died out immediately after, leaving us free to make for the shore, which we lost no time in attempting. but hooja had drawn closer in toward shore than we, so it looked as if he might head us off before we could land. however, we did our best to distance him, dian taking a paddle with us. we were in a fair way to succeed when there appeared, pouring from among the trees beyond the beach, a horde of yelling, painted savages, brandishing all sorts of devilish-looking primitive weapons. so menacing was their attitude that we realized at once the folly of attempting to land among them. hooja was drawing closer to us. there was no wind. we could not hope to outpaddle him. and with our sail gone, no wind would help us, though, as if in derision at our plight, a steady breeze was now blowing. but we had no intention of sitting idle while our fate overtook us, so we bent to our paddles and, keeping parallel with the coast, did our best to pull away from our pursuers. it was a grueling experience. we were weakened by lack of food. we were suffering the pangs of thirst. capture and death were close at hand. yet i think that we gave a good account of ourselves in our final effort to escape. our boat was so much smaller and lighter than any of hooja's that the three of us forced it ahead almost as rapidly as his larger craft could go under their twenty paddles. as we raced along the coast for one of those seemingly interminable periods that may draw hours into eternities where the labor is soul-searing and there is no way to measure time, i saw what i took for the opening to a bay or the mouth of a great river a short distance ahead of us. i wished that we might make for it; but with the menace of hooja close behind and the screaming natives who raced along the shore parallel to us, i dared not attempt it. we were not far from shore in that mad flight from death. even as i paddled i found opportunity to glance occasionally toward the natives. they were white, but hideously painted. from their gestures and weapons i took them to be a most ferocious race. i was rather glad that we had not succeeded in landing among them. hooja's fleet had been in much more compact formation when we sighted them this time than on the occasion following the tempest. now they were moving rapidly in pursuit of us, all well within the radius of a mile. five of them were leading, all abreast, and were scarce two hundred yards from us. when i glanced over my shoulder i could see that the archers had already fitted arrows to their bows in readiness to fire upon us the moment that they should draw within range. hope was low in my breast. i could not see the slightest chance of escaping them, for they were overhauling us rapidly now, since they were able to work their paddles in relays, while we three were rapidly wearying beneath the constant strain that had been put upon us. it was then that juag called my attention to the rift in the shore-line which i had thought either a bay or the mouth of a great river. there i saw moving slowly out into the sea that which filled my soul with wonder. chapter xiv gore and dreams it was a two-masted felucca with lateen sails! the craft was long and low. in it were more than fifty men, twenty or thirty of whom were at oars with which the craft was being propelled from the lee of the land. i was dumbfounded. could it be that the savage, painted natives i had seen on shore had so perfected the art of navigation that they were masters of such advanced building and rigging as this craft proclaimed? it seemed impossible! and as i looked i saw another of the same type swing into view and follow its sister through the narrow strait out into the ocean. nor were these all. one after another, following closely upon one another's heels, came fifty of the trim, graceful vessels. they were cutting in between hooja's fleet and our little dugout. when they came a bit closer my eyes fairly popped from my head at what i saw, for in the eye of the leading felucca stood a man with a sea-glass leveled upon us. who could they be? was there a civilization within pellucidar of such wondrous advancement as this? were there far-distant lands of which none of my people had ever heard, where a race had so greatly outstripped all other races of this inner world? the man with the glass had lowered it and was shouting to us. i could not make out his words, but presently i saw that he was pointing aloft. when i looked i saw a pennant fluttering from the peak of the forward lateen yard--a red, white, and blue pennant, with a single great white star in a field of blue. then i knew. my eyes went even wider than they had before. it was the navy! it was the navy of the empire of pellucidar which i had instructed perry to build in my absence. it was my navy! i dropped my paddle and stood up and shouted and waved my hand. juag and dian looked at me as if i had gone suddenly mad. when i could stop shouting i told them, and they shared my joy and shouted with me. but still hooja was coming nearer, nor could the leading felucca overhaul him before he would be along-side or at least within bow-shot. hooja must have been as much mystified as we were as to the identity of the strange fleet; but when he saw me waving to them he evidently guessed that they were friendly to us, so he urged his men to redouble their efforts to reach us before the felucca cut him off. he shouted word back to others of his fleet--word that was passed back until it had reached them all--directing them to run alongside the strangers and board them, for with his two hundred craft and his eight or ten thousand warriors he evidently felt equal to overcoming the fifty vessels of the enemy, which did not seem to carry over three thousand men all told. his own personal energies he bent to reaching dian and me first, leaving the rest of the work to his other boats. i thought that there could be little doubt that he would be successful in so far as we were concerned, and i feared for the revenge that he might take upon us should the battle go against his force, as i was sure it would; for i knew that perry and his mezops must have brought with them all the arms and ammunition that had been contained in the prospector. but i was not prepared for what happened next. as hooja's canoe reached a point some twenty yards from us a great puff of smoke broke from the bow of the leading felucca, followed almost simultaneously by a terrific explosion, and a solid shot screamed close over the heads of the men in hooja's craft, raising a great splash where it clove the water just beyond them. perry had perfected gunpowder and built cannon! it was marvelous! dian and juag, as much surprised as hooja, turned wondering eyes toward me. again the cannon spoke. i suppose that by comparison with the great guns of modern naval vessels of the outer world it was a pitifully small and inadequate thing; but here in pellucidar, where it was the first of its kind, it was about as awe-inspiring as anything you might imagine. with the report an iron cannonball about five inches in diameter struck hooja's dugout just above the water-line, tore a great splintering hole in its side, turned it over, and dumped its occupants into the sea. the four dugouts that had been abreast of hooja had turned to intercept the leading felucca. even now, in the face of what must have been a withering catastrophe to them, they kept bravely on toward the strange and terrible craft. in them were fully two hundred men, while but fifty lined the gunwale of the felucca to repel them. the commander of the felucca, who proved to be ja, let them come quite close and then turned loose upon them a volley of shots from small-arms. the cave men and sagoths in the dugouts seemed to wither before that blast of death like dry grass before a prairie fire. those who were not hit dropped their bows and javelins and, seizing upon paddles, attempted to escape. but the felucca pursued them relentlessly, her crew firing at will. at last i heard ja shouting to the survivors in the dugouts--they were all quite close to us now--offering them their lives if they would surrender. perry was standing close behind ja, and i knew that this merciful action was prompted, perhaps commanded, by the old man; for no pellucidarian would have thought of showing leniency to a defeated foe. as there was no alternative save death, the survivors surrendered and a moment later were taken aboard the amoz, the name that i could now see printed in large letters upon the felucca's bow, and which no one in that whole world could read except perry and i. when the prisoners were aboard, ja brought the felucca alongside our dugout. many were the willing hands that reached down to lift us to her decks. the bronze faces of the mezops were broad with smiles, and perry was fairly beside himself with joy. dian went aboard first and then juag, as i wished to help raja and ranee aboard myself, well knowing that it would fare ill with any mezop who touched them. we got them aboard at last, and a great commotion they caused among the crew, who had never seen a wild beast thus handled by man before. perry and dian and i were so full of questions that we fairly burst, but we had to contain ourselves for a while, since the battle with the rest of hooja's fleet had scarce commenced. from the small forward decks of the feluccas perry's crude cannon were belching smoke, flame, thunder, and death. the air trembled to the roar of them. hooja's horde, intrepid, savage fighters that they were, were closing in to grapple in a last death-struggle with the mezops who manned our vessels. the handling of our fleet by the red island warriors of ja's clan was far from perfect. i could see that perry had lost no time after the completion of the boats in setting out upon this cruise. what little the captains and crews had learned of handling feluccas they must have learned principally since they embarked upon this voyage, and while experience is an excellent teacher and had done much for them, they still had a great deal to learn. in maneuvering for position they were continually fouling one another, and on two occasions shots from our batteries came near to striking our own ships. no sooner, however, was i aboard the flagship than i attempted to rectify this trouble to some extent. by passing commands by word of mouth from one ship to another i managed to get the fifty feluccas into some sort of line, with the flag-ship in the lead. in this formation we commenced slowly to circle the position of the enemy. the dugouts came for us right along in an attempt to board us, but by keeping on the move in one direction and circling, we managed to avoid getting in each other's way, and were enabled to fire our cannon and our small arms with less danger to our own comrades. when i had a moment to look about me, i took in the felucca on which i was. i am free to confess that i marveled at the excellent construction and stanch yet speedy lines of the little craft. that perry had chosen this type of vessel seemed rather remarkable, for though i had warned him against turreted battle-ships, armor, and like useless show, i had fully expected that when i beheld his navy i should find considerable attempt at grim and terrible magnificence, for it was always perry's idea to overawe these ignorant cave men when we had to contend with them in battle. but i had soon learned that while one might easily astonish them with some new engine of war, it was an utter impossibility to frighten them into surrender. i learned later that ja had gone carefully over the plans of various craft with perry. the old man had explained in detail all that the text told him of them. the two had measured out dimensions upon the ground, that ja might see the sizes of different boats. perry had built models, and ja had had him read carefully and explain all that they could find relative to the handling of sailing vessels. the result of this was that ja was the one who had chosen the felucca. it was well that perry had had so excellent a balance wheel, for he had been wild to build a huge frigate of the nelsonian era--he told me so himself. one thing that had inclined ja particularly to the felucca was the fact that it included oars in its equipment. he realized the limitations of his people in the matter of sails, and while they had never used oars, the implement was so similar to a paddle that he was sure they quickly could master the art--and they did. as soon as one hull was completed ja kept it on the water constantly, first with one crew and then with another, until two thousand red warriors had learned to row. then they stepped their masts and a crew was told off for the first ship. while the others were building they learned to handle theirs. as each succeeding boat was launched its crew took it out and practiced with it under the tutorage of those who had graduated from the first ship, and so on until a full complement of men had been trained for every boat. well, to get back to the battle: the hoojans kept on coming at us, and as fast as they came we mowed them down. it was little else than slaughter. time and time again i cried to them to surrender, promising them their lives if they would do so. at last there were but ten boatloads left. these turned in flight. they thought they could paddle away from us--it was pitiful! i passed the word from boat to boat to cease firing--not to kill another hoojan unless they fired on us. then we set out after them. there was a nice little breeze blowing and we bowled along after our quarry as gracefully and as lightly as swans upon a park lagoon. as we approached them i could see not only wonder but admiration in their eyes. i hailed the nearest dugout. "throw down your arms and come aboard us," i cried, "and you shall not be harmed. we will feed you and return you to the mainland. then you shall go free upon your promise never to bear arms against the emperor of pellucidar again!" i think it was the promise of food that interested them most. they could scarce believe that we would not kill them. but when i exhibited the prisoners we already had taken, and showed them that they were alive and unharmed, a great sagoth in one of the boats asked me what guarantee i could give that i would keep my word. "none other than my word," i replied. "that i do not break." the pellucidarians themselves are rather punctilious about this same matter, so the sagoth could understand that i might possibly be speaking the truth. but he could not understand why we should not kill them unless we meant to enslave them, which i had as much as denied already when i had promised to set them free. ja couldn't exactly see the wisdom of my plan, either. he thought that we ought to follow up the ten remaining dugouts and sink them all; but i insisted that we must free as many as possible of our enemies upon the mainland. "you see," i explained, "these men will return at once to hooja's island, to the mahar cities from which they come, or to the countries from which they were stolen by the mahars. they are men of two races and of many countries. they will spread the story of our victory far and wide, and while they are with us, we will let them see and hear many other wonderful things which they may carry back to their friends and their chiefs. it's the finest chance for free publicity, perry," i added to the old man, "that you or i have seen in many a day." perry agreed with me. as a matter of fact, he would have agreed to anything that would have restrained us from killing the poor devils who fell into our hands. he was a great fellow to invent gunpowder and firearms and cannon; but when it came to using these things to kill people, he was as tender-hearted as a chicken. the sagoth who had spoken was talking to other sagoths in his boat. evidently they were holding a council over the question of the wisdom of surrendering. "what will become of you if you don't surrender to us?" i asked. "if we do not open up our batteries on you again and kill you all, you will simply drift about the sea helplessly until you die of thirst and starvation. you cannot return to the islands, for you have seen as well as we that the natives there are very numerous and warlike. they would kill you the moment you landed." the upshot of it was that the boat of which the sagoth speaker was in charge surrendered. the sagoths threw down their weapons, and we took them aboard the ship next in line behind the amoz. first ja had to impress upon the captain and crew of the ship that the prisoners were not to be abused or killed. after that the remaining dugouts paddled up and surrendered. we distributed them among the entire fleet lest there be too many upon any one vessel. thus ended the first real naval engagement that the pellucidarian seas had ever witnessed--though perry still insists that the action in which the sari took part was a battle of the first magnitude. the battle over and the prisoners disposed of and fed--and do not imagine that dian, juag, and i, as well as the two hounds were not fed also--i turned my attention to the fleet. we had the feluccas close in about the flag-ship, and with all the ceremony of a medieval potentate on parade i received the commanders of the forty-nine feluccas that accompanied the flag-ship--dian and i together--the empress and the emperor of pellucidar. it was a great occasion. the savage, bronze warriors entered into the spirit of it, for as i learned later dear old perry had left no opportunity neglected for impressing upon them that david was emperor of pellucidar, and that all that they were accomplishing and all that he was accomplishing was due to the power, and redounded to the glory of david. the old man must have rubbed it in pretty strong, for those fierce warriors nearly came to blows in their efforts to be among the first of those to kneel before me and kiss my hand. when it came to kissing dian's i think they enjoyed it more; i know i should have. a happy thought occurred to me as i stood upon the little deck of the amoz with the first of perry's primitive cannon behind me. when ja kneeled at my feet, and first to do me homage, i drew from its scabbard at his side the sword of hammered iron that perry had taught him to fashion. striking him lightly on the shoulder i created him king of anoroc. each captain of the forty-nine other feluccas i made a duke. i left it to perry to enlighten them as to the value of the honors i had bestowed upon them. during these ceremonies raja and ranee had stood beside dian and me. their bellies had been well filled, but still they had difficulty in permitting so much edible humanity to pass unchallenged. it was a good education for them though, and never after did they find it difficult to associate with the human race without arousing their appetites. after the ceremonies were over we had a chance to talk with perry and ja. the former told me that ghak, king of sari, had sent my letter and map to him by a runner, and that he and ja had at once decided to set out on the completion of the fleet to ascertain the correctness of my theory that the lural az, in which the anoroc islands lay, was in reality the same ocean as that which lapped the shores of thuria under the name of sojar az, or great sea. their destination had been the island retreat of hooja, and they had sent word to ghak of their plans that we might work in harmony with them. the tempest that had blown us off the coast of the continent had blown them far to the south also. shortly before discovering us they had come into a great group of islands, from between the largest two of which they were sailing when they saw hooja's fleet pursuing our dugout. i asked perry if he had any idea as to where we were, or in what direction lay hooja's island or the continent. he replied by producing his map, on which he had carefully marked the newly discovered islands--there described as the unfriendly isles--which showed hooja's island northwest of us about two points west. he then explained that with compass, chronometer, log and reel, they had kept a fairly accurate record of their course from the time they had set out. four of the feluccas were equipped with these instruments, and all of the captains had been instructed in their use. i was very greatly surprised at the ease with which these savages had mastered the rather intricate detail of this unusual work, but perry assured me that they were a wonderfully intelligent race, and had been quick to grasp all that he had tried to teach them. another thing that surprised me was the fact that so much had been accomplished in so short a time, for i could not believe that i had been gone from anoroc for a sufficient period to permit of building a fleet of fifty feluccas and mining iron ore for the cannon and balls, to say nothing of manufacturing these guns and the crude muzzle-loading rifles with which every mezop was armed, as well as the gunpowder and ammunition they had in such ample quantities. "time!" exclaimed perry. "well, how long were you gone from anoroc before we picked you up in the sojar az?" that was a puzzler, and i had to admit it. i didn't know how much time had elapsed and neither did perry, for time is nonexistent in pellucidar. "then, you see, david," he continued, "i had almost unbelievable resources at my disposal. the mezops inhabiting the anoroc islands, which stretch far out to sea beyond the three principal isles with which you are familiar, number well into the millions, and by far the greater part of them are friendly to ja. men, women, and children turned to and worked the moment ja explained the nature of our enterprise. "and not only were they anxious to do all in their power to hasten the day when the mahars should be overthrown, but--and this counted for most of all--they are simply ravenous for greater knowledge and for better ways of doing things. "the contents of the prospector set their imaginations to working overtime, so that they craved to own, themselves, the knowledge which had made it possible for other men to create and build the things which you brought back from the outer world. "and then," continued the old man, "the element of time, or, rather, lack of time, operated to my advantage. there being no nights, there was no laying off from work--they labored incessantly stopping only to eat and, on rare occasions, to sleep. once we had discovered iron ore we had enough mined in an incredibly short time to build a thousand cannon. i had only to show them once how a thing should be done, and they would fall to work by thousands to do it. "why, no sooner had we fashioned the first muzzle-loader and they had seen it work successfully, than fully three thousand mezops fell to work to make rifles. of course there was much confusion and lost motion at first, but eventually ja got them in hand, detailing squads of them under competent chiefs to certain work. "we now have a hundred expert gun-makers. on a little isolated isle we have a great powder-factory. near the iron-mine, which is on the mainland, is a smelter, and on the eastern shore of anoroc, a well equipped ship-yard. all these industries are guarded by forts in which several cannon are mounted and where warriors are always on guard. "you would be surprised now, david, at the aspect of anoroc. i am surprised myself; it seems always to me as i compare it with the day that i first set foot upon it from the deck of the sari that only a miracle could have worked the change that has taken place." "it is a miracle," i said; "it is nothing short of a miracle to transplant all the wondrous possibilities of the twentieth century back to the stone age. it is a miracle to think that only five hundred miles of earth separate two epochs that are really ages and ages apart." "it is stupendous, perry! but still more stupendous is the power that you and i wield in this great world. these people look upon us as little less than supermen. we must show them that we are all of that. "we must give them the best that we have, perry." "yes," he agreed; "we must. i have been thinking a great deal lately that some kind of shrapnel shell or explosive bomb would be a most splendid innovation in their warfare. then there are breech-loading rifles and those with magazines that i must hasten to study out and learn to reproduce as soon as we get settled down again; and--" "hold on, perry!" i cried. "i didn't mean these sorts of things at all. i said that we must give them the best we have. what we have given them so far has been the worst. we have given them war and the munitions of war. in a single day we have made their wars infinitely more terrible and bloody than in all their past ages they have been able to make them with their crude, primitive weapons. "in a period that could scarcely have exceeded two outer earthly hours, our fleet practically annihilated the largest armada of native canoes that the pellucidarians ever before had gathered together. we butchered some eight thousand warriors with the twentieth-century gifts we brought. why, they wouldn't have killed that many warriors in the entire duration of a dozen of their wars with their own weapons! no, perry; we've got to give them something better than scientific methods of killing one another." the old man looked at me in amazement. there was reproach in his eyes, too. "why, david!" he said sorrowfully. "i thought that you would be pleased with what i had done. we planned these things together, and i am sure that it was you who suggested practically all of it. i have done only what i thought you wished done and i have done it the best that i know how." i laid my hand on the old man's shoulder. "bless your heart, perry!" i cried. "you've accomplished miracles. you have done precisely what i should have done, only you've done it better. i'm not finding fault; but i don't wish to lose sight myself, or let you lose sight, of the greater work which must grow out of this preliminary and necessary carnage. first we must place the empire upon a secure footing, and we can do so only by putting the fear of us in the hearts of our enemies; but after that-- "ah, perry! that is the day i look forward to! when you and i can build sewing-machines instead of battle-ships, harvesters of crops instead of harvesters of men, plow-shares and telephones, schools and colleges, printing-presses and paper! when our merchant marine shall ply the great pellucidarian seas, and cargoes of silks and typewriters and books shall forge their ways where only hideous saurians have held sway since time began!" "amen!" said perry. and dian, who was standing at my side, pressed my hand. chapter xv conquest and peace the fleet sailed directly for hooja's island, coming to anchor at its north-eastern extremity before the flat-topped hill that had been hooja's stronghold. i sent one of the prisoners ashore to demand an immediate surrender; but as he told me afterward they wouldn't believe all that he told them, so they congregated on the cliff-top and shot futile arrows at us. in reply i had five of the feluccas cannonade them. when they scampered away at the sound of the terrific explosions, and at sight of the smoke and the iron balls i landed a couple of hundred red warriors and led them to the opposite end of the hill into the tunnel that ran to its summit. here we met a little resistance; but a volley from the muzzle-loaders turned back those who disputed our right of way, and presently we gained the mesa. here again we met resistance, but at last the remnant of hooja's horde surrendered. juag was with me, and i lost no time in returning to him and his tribe the hilltop that had been their ancestral home for ages until they were robbed of it by hooja. i created a kingdom of the island, making juag king there. before we sailed i went to gr-gr-gr, chief of the beast-men, taking juag with me. there the three of us arranged a code of laws that would permit the brute-folk and the human beings of the island to live in peace and harmony. gr-gr-gr sent his son with me back to sari, capital of my empire, that he might learn the ways of the human beings. i have hopes of turning this race into the greatest agriculturists of pellucidar. when i returned to the fleet i found that one of the islanders of juag's tribe, who had been absent when we arrived, had just returned from the mainland with the news that a great army was encamped in the land of awful shadow, and that they were threatening thuria. i lost no time in weighing anchors and setting out for the continent, which we reached after a short and easy voyage. from the deck of the amoz i scanned the shore through the glasses that perry had brought with him. when we were close enough for the glasses to be of value i saw that there was indeed a vast concourse of warriors entirely encircling the walled-village of goork, chief of the thurians. as we approached smaller objects became distinguishable. it was then that i discovered numerous flags and pennants floating above the army of the besiegers. i called perry and passed the glasses to him. "ghak of sari," i said. perry looked through the lenses of a moment, and then turned to me with a smile. "the red, white, and blue of the empire," he said. "it is indeed your majesty's army." it soon became apparent that we had been sighted by those on shore, for a great multitude of warriors had congregated along the beach watching us. we came to anchor as close in as we dared, which with our light feluccas was within easy speaking-distance of the shore. ghak was there and his eyes were mighty wide, too; for, as he told us later, though he knew this must be perry's fleet it was so wonderful to him that he could not believe the testimony of his own eyes even while he was watching it approach. to give the proper effect to our meeting i commanded that each felucca fire twenty-one guns as a salute to his majesty ghak, king of sari. some of the gunners, in the exuberance of their enthusiasm, fired solid shot; but fortunately they had sufficient good judg-ment to train their pieces on the open sea, so no harm was done. after this we landed--an arduous task since each felucca carried but a single light dugout. i learned from ghak that the thurian chieftain, goork, had been inclined to haughtiness, and had told ghak, the hairy one, that he knew nothing of me and cared less; but i imagine that the sight of the fleet and the sound of the guns brought him to his senses, for it was not long before he sent a deputation to me, inviting me to visit him in his village. here he apologized for the treatment he had accorded me, very gladly swore allegiance to the empire, and received in return the title of king. we remained in thuria only long enough to arrange the treaty with goork, among the other details of which was his promise to furnish the imperial army with a thousand lidi, or thurian beasts of burden, and drivers for them. these were to accompany ghak's army back to sari by land, while the fleet sailed to the mouth of the great river from which dian, juag, and i had been blown. the voyage was uneventful. we found the river easily, and sailed up it for many miles through as rich and wonderful a plain as i have ever seen. at the head of navigation we disembarked, leaving a sufficient guard for the feluccas, and marched the remaining distance to sari. ghak's army, which was composed of warriors of all the original tribes of the federation, showing how successful had been his efforts to rehabilitate the empire, marched into sari some time after we arrived. with them were the thousand lidi from thuria. at a council of the kings it was decided that we should at once commence the great war against the mahars, for these haughty reptiles presented the greatest obstacle to human progress within pellucidar. i laid out a plan of campaign which met with the enthusiastic indorsement of the kings. pursuant to it, i at once despatched fifty lidi to the fleet with orders to fetch fifty cannon to sari. i also ordered the fleet to proceed at once to anoroc, where they were to take aboard all the rifles and ammunition that had been completed since their departure, and with a full complement of men to sail along the coast in an attempt to find a passage to the inland sea near which lay the mahars' buried city of phutra. ja was sure that a large and navigable river connected the sea of phutra with the lural az, and that, barring accident, the fleet would be before phutra as soon as the land forces were. at last the great army started upon its march. there were warriors from every one of the federated kingdoms. all were armed either with bow and arrows or muzzle-loaders, for nearly the entire mezop contingent had been enlisted for this march, only sufficient having been left aboard the feluccas to man them properly. i divided the forces into divisions, regiments, battalions, companies, and even to platoons and sections, appointing the full complement of officers and noncommissioned officers. on the long march i schooled them in their duties, and as fast as one learned i sent him among the others as a teacher. each regiment was made up of about a thousand bowmen, and to each was temporarily attached a company of mezop musketeers and a battery of artillery--the latter, our naval guns, mounted upon the broad backs of the mighty lidi. there was also one full regiment of mezop musketeers and a regiment of primitive spearmen. the rest of the lidi that we brought with us were used for baggage animals and to transport our women and children, for we had brought them with us, as it was our intention to march from one mahar city to another until we had subdued every mahar nation that menaced the safety of any kingdom of the empire. before we reached the plain of phutra we were discovered by a company of sagoths, who at first stood to give battle; but upon seeing the vast numbers of our army they turned and fled toward phutra. the result of this was that when we came in sight of the hundred towers which mark the entrances to the buried city we found a great army of sagoths and mahars lined up to give us battle. at a thousand yards we halted, and, placing our artillery upon a slight eminence at either flank, we commenced to drop solid shot among them. ja, who was chief artillery officer, was in command of this branch of the service, and he did some excellent work, for his mezop gunners had become rather proficient by this time. the sagoths couldn't stand much of this sort of warfare, so they charged us, yelling like fiends. we let them come quite close, and then the musketeers who formed the first line opened up on them. the slaughter was something frightful, but still the remnants of them kept on coming until it was a matter of hand-to-hand fighting. here our spearmen were of value, as were also the crude iron swords with which most of the imperial warriors were armed. we lost heavily in the encounter after the sagoths reached us; but they were absolutely exterminated--not one remained even as a prisoner. the mahars, seeing how the battle was going, had hastened to the safety of their buried city. when we had overcome their gorilla-men we followed after them. but here we were doomed to defeat, at least temporarily; for no sooner had the first of our troops descended into the subterranean avenues than many of them came stumbling and fighting their way back to the surface, half-choked by the fumes of some deadly gas that the reptiles had liberated upon them. we lost a number of men here. then i sent for perry, who had remained discreetly in the rear, and had him construct a little affair that i had had in my mind against the possibility of our meeting with a check at the entrances to the underground city. under my direction he stuffed one of his cannon full of powder, small bullets, and pieces of stone, almost to the muzzle. then he plugged the muzzle tight with a cone-shaped block of wood, hammered and jammed in as tight as it could be. next he inserted a long fuse. a dozen men rolled the cannon to the top of the stairs leading down into the city, first removing it from its carriage. one of them then lit the fuse and the whole thing was given a shove down the stairway, while the detachment turned and scampered to a safe distance. for what seemed a very long time nothing happened. we had commenced to think that the fuse had been put out while the piece was rolling down the stairway, or that the mahars had guessed its purpose and extinguished it themselves, when the ground about the entrance rose suddenly into the air, to be followed by a terrific explosion and a burst of smoke and flame that shot high in company with dirt, stone, and fragments of cannon. perry had been working on two more of these giant bombs as soon as the first was completed. presently we launched these into two of the other entrances. they were all that were required, for almost immediately after the third explosion a stream of mahars broke from the exits furthest from us, rose upon their wings, and soared northward. a hundred men on lidi were despatched in pursuit, each lidi carrying two riflemen in addition to its driver. guessing that the inland sea, which lay not far north of phutra, was their destination, i took a couple of regiments and followed. a low ridge intervenes between the phutra plain where the city lies, and the inland sea where the mahars were wont to disport themselves in the cool waters. not until we had topped this ridge did we get a view of the sea. then we beheld a scene that i shall never forget so long as i may live. along the beach were lined up the troop of lidi, while a hundred yards from shore the surface of the water was black with the long snouts and cold, reptilian eyes of the mahars. our savage mezop riflemen, and the shorter, squatter, white-skinned thurian drivers, shading their eyes with their hands, were gazing seaward beyond the mahars, whose eyes were fastened upon the same spot. my heart leaped when i discovered that which was chaining the attention of them all. twenty graceful feluccas were moving smoothly across the waters of the sea toward the reptilian horde! the sight must have filled the mahars with awe and consternation, for never had they seen the like of these craft before. for a time they seemed unable to do aught but gaze at the approaching fleet; but when the mezops opened on them with their muskets the reptiles swam rapidly in the direction of the feluccas, evidently thinking that these would prove the easier to overcome. the commander of the fleet permitted them to approach within a hundred yards. then he opened on them with all the cannon that could be brought to bear, as well as with the small arms of the sailors. a great many of the reptiles were killed at the first volley. they wavered for a moment, then dived; nor did we see them again for a long time. but finally they rose far out beyond the fleet, and when the feluccas came about and pursued them they left the water and flew away toward the north. following the fall of phutra i visited anoroc, where i found the people busy in the shipyards and the factories that perry had established. i discovered something, too, that he had not told me of--something that seemed infinitely more promising than the powder-factory or the arsenal. it was a young man poring over one of the books i had brought back from the outer world! he was sitting in the log cabin that perry had had built to serve as his sleeping quarters and office. so absorbed was he that he did not notice our entrance. perry saw the look of astonishment in my eyes and smiled. "i started teaching him the alphabet when we first reached the prospector, and were taking out its contents," he explained. "he was much mystified by the books and anxious to know of what use they were. when i explained he asked me to teach him to read, and so i worked with him whenever i could. he is very intelligent and learns quickly. before i left he had made great progress, and as soon as he is qualified he is going to teach others to read. it was mighty hard work getting started, though, for everything had to be translated into pellucidarian. "it will take a long time to solve this problem, but i think that by teaching a number of them to read and write english we shall then be able more quickly to give them a written language of their own." and this was the nucleus about which we were to build our great system of schools and colleges--this almost naked red warrior, sitting in perry's little cabin upon the island of anoroc, picking out words letter by letter from a work on intensive farming. now we have-- but i'll get to all that before i finish. while we were at anoroc i accompanied ja in an expedition to south island, the southernmost of the three largest which form the anoroc group--perry had given it its name--where we made peace with the tribe there that had for long been hostile toward ja. they were now glad enough to make friends with him and come into the federation. from there we sailed with sixty-five feluccas for distant luana, the main island of the group where dwell the hereditary enemies of anoroc. twenty-five of the feluccas were of a new and larger type than those with which ja and perry had sailed on the occasion when they chanced to find and rescue dian and me. they were longer, carried much larger sails, and were considerably swifter. each carried four guns instead of two, and these were so arranged that one or more of them could be brought into action no matter where the enemy lay. the luana group lies just beyond the range of vision from the mainland. the largest island of it alone is visible from anoroc; but when we neared it we found that it comprised many beautiful islands, and that they were thickly populated. the luanians had not, of course, been ignorant of all that had been going on in the domains of their nearest and dearest enemies. they knew of our feluccas and our guns, for several of their riding-parties had had a taste of both. but their principal chief, an old man, had never seen either. so, when he sighted us, he put out to overwhelm us, bringing with him a fleet of about a hundred large war-canoes, loaded to capacity with javelin-armed warriors. it was pitiful, and i told ja as much. it seemed a shame to massacre these poor fellows if there was any way out of it. to my surprise ja felt much as i did. he said he had always hated to war with other mezops when there were so many alien races to fight against. i suggested that we hail the chief and request a parley; but when ja did so the old fool thought that we were afraid, and with loud cries of exultation urged his warriors upon us. so we opened up on them, but at my suggestion centered our fire upon the chief's canoe. the result was that in about thirty seconds there was nothing left of that war dugout but a handful of splinters, while its crew--those who were not killed--were struggling in the water, battling with the myriad terrible creatures that had risen to devour them. we saved some of them, but the majority died just as had hooja and the crew of his canoe that time our second shot capsized them. again we called to the remaining warriors to enter into a parley with us; but the chief's son was there and he would not, now that he had seen his father killed. he was all for revenge. so we had to open up on the brave fellows with all our guns; but it didn't last long at that, for there chanced to be wiser heads among the luanians than their chief or his son had possessed. presently, an old warrior who commanded one of the dugouts surrendered. after that they came in one by one until all had laid their weapons upon our decks. then we called together upon the flag-ship all our captains, to give the affair greater weight and dignity, and all the principal men of luana. we had conquered them, and they expected either death or slavery; but they deserved neither, and i told them so. it is always my habit here in pellucidar to impress upon these savage people that mercy is as noble a quality as physical bravery, and that next to the men who fight shoulder to shoulder with one, we should honor the brave men who fight against us, and if we are victorious, award them both the mercy and honor that are their due. by adhering to this policy i have won to the federation many great and noble peoples, who under the ancient traditions of the inner world would have been massacred or enslaved after we had conquered them; and thus i won the luanians. i gave them their freedom, and returned their weapons to them after they had sworn loyalty to me and friendship and peace with ja, and i made the old fellow, who had had the good sense to surrender, king of luana, for both the old chief and his only son had died in the battle. when i sailed away from luana she was included among the kingdoms of the empire, whose boundaries were thus pushed eastward several hundred miles. we now returned to anoroc and thence to the mainland, where i again took up the campaign against the mahars, marching from one great buried city to another until we had passed far north of amoz into a country where i had never been. at each city we were victorious, killing or capturing the sagoths and driving the mahars further away. i noticed that they always fled toward the north. the sagoth prisoners we usually found quite ready to trans-fer their allegiance to us, for they are little more than brutes, and when they found that we could fill their stomachs and give them plenty of fighting, they were nothing loath to march with us against the next mahar city and battle with men of their own race. thus we proceeded, swinging in a great half-circle north and west and south again until we had come back to the edge of the lidi plains north of thuria. here we overcame the mahar city that had ravaged the land of awful shadow for so many ages. when we marched on to thuria, goork and his people went mad with joy at the tidings we brought them. during this long march of conquest we had passed through seven countries, peopled by primitive human tribes who had not yet heard of the federation, and succeeded in joining them all to the empire. it was noticeable that each of these peoples had a mahar city situated near by, which had drawn upon them for slaves and human food for so many ages that not even in legend had the population any folk-tale which did not in some degree reflect an inherent terror of the reptilians. in each of these countries i left an officer and warriors to train them in military discipline, and prepare them to receive the arms that i intended furnishing them as rapidly as perry's arsenal could turn them out, for we felt that it would be a long, long time before we should see the last of the mahars. that they had flown north but temporarily until we should be gone with our great army and terrifying guns i was positive, and equally sure was i that they would presently return. the task of ridding pellucidar of these hideous creatures is one which in all probability will never be entirely completed, for their great cities must abound by the hundreds and thousands in the far-distant lands that no subject of the empire has ever laid eyes upon. but within the present boundaries of my domain there are now none left that i know of, for i am sure we should have heard indirectly of any great mahar city that had escaped us, although of course the imperial army has by no means covered the vast area which i now rule. after leaving thuria we returned to sari, where the seat of government is located. here, upon a vast, fertile plateau, overlooking the great gulf that runs into the continent from the lural az, we are building the great city of sari. here we are erecting mills and factories. here we are teaching men and women the rudiments of agriculture. here perry has built the first printing-press, and a dozen young sarians are teaching their fellows to read and write the language of pellucidar. we have just laws and only a few of them. our people are happy because they are always working at something which they enjoy. there is no money, nor is any money value placed upon any commodity. perry and i were as one in resolving that the root of all evil should not be introduced into pellucidar while we lived. a man may exchange that which he produces for something which he desires that another has produced; but he cannot dispose of the thing he thus acquires. in other words, a commodity ceases to have pecuniary value the instant that it passes out of the hands of its producer. all excess reverts to government; and, as this represents the production of the people as a government, government may dispose of it to other peoples in exchange for that which they produce. thus we are establishing a trade between kingdoms, the profits from which go to the betterment of the people--to building factories for the manufacture of agricultural implements, and machinery for the various trades we are gradually teaching the people. already anoroc and luana are vying with one another in the excellence of the ships they build. each has several large ship-yards. anoroc makes gunpowder and mines iron ore, and by means of their ships they carry on a very lucrative trade with thuria, sari, and amoz. the thurians breed lidi, which, having the strength and intelligence of an elephant, make excellent draft animals. around sari and amoz the men are domesticating the great striped antelope, the meat of which is most delicious. i am sure that it will not be long before they will have them broken to harness and saddle. the horses of pellucidar are far too diminutive for such uses, some species of them being little larger than fox-terriers. dian and i live in a great palace overlooking the gulf. there is no glass in our windows, for we have no windows, the walls rising but a few feet above the floor-line, the rest of the space being open to the ceilings; but we have a roof to shade us from the perpetual noon-day sun. perry and i decided to set a style in architecture that would not curse future generations with the white plague, so we have plenty of ventilation. those of the people who prefer, still inhabit their caves, but many are building houses similar to ours. at greenwich we have located a town and an observatory--though there is nothing to observe but the stationary sun directly overhead. upon the edge of the land of awful shadow is another observatory, from which the time is flashed by wireless to every corner of the empire twenty-four times a day. in addition to the wireless, we have a small telephone system in sari. everything is yet in the early stages of development; but with the science of the outer-world twentieth century to draw upon we are making rapid progress, and with all the faults and errors of the outer world to guide us clear of dangers, i think that it will not be long before pellucidar will become as nearly a utopia as one may expect to find this side of heaven. perry is away just now, laying out a railway-line from sari to amoz. there are immense anthracite coal-fields at the head of the gulf not far from sari, and the railway will tap these. some of his students are working on a locomotive now. it will be a strange sight to see an iron horse puffing through the primeval jungles of the stone age, while cave bears, saber-toothed tigers, mastodons and the countless other terrible creatures of the past look on from their tangled lairs in wide-eyed astonishment. we are very happy, dian and i, and i would not return to the outer world for all the riches of all its princes. i am content here. even without my imperial powers and honors i should be content, for have i not that greatest of all treasures, the love of a good woman--my wondrous empress, dian the beautiful? [transcriber's note: i have made the following changes to the text: page line original changed to sate state least last litte little dispress- distress- slides sides enmy enemy it if sidi lidi be bet the the and the hoojas' hooja's come came remarkably remarkable take takes juang juag contined continued ] [illustration] etidorhpa or the end of earth. the strange history of a mysterious being and the account of a remarkable journey as communicated in manuscript to llewellyn drury who promised to print the same, but finally evaded the responsibility which was assumed by john uri lloyd with many illustrations by j. augustus knapp sixth edition cincinnati the robert clarke company ascription. to prof. w. h. venable, who reviewed the manuscript of this work, i am indebted for many valuable suggestions, and i can not speak too kindly of him as a critic. the illustrations, excepting those mechanical and historical, making in themselves a beautiful narrative without words, are due to the admirable artistic conceptions and touch of mr. j. augustus knapp. structural imperfections as well as word selections and phrases that break all rules in composition, and that the care even of prof. venable could not eradicate, i accept as wholly my own. for much, on the one hand, that it may seem should have been excluded, and on the other, for giving place to ideas nearer to empiricism than to science, i am also responsible. for vexing my friends with problems that seemingly do not concern in the least men in my position, and for venturing to think, superficially, it may be, outside the restricted lines of a science bound to the unresponsive crucible and retort, to which my life has been given, and amid the problems of which it has nearly worn itself away, i have no plausible excuse, and shall seek none. john uri lloyd copyright, , by john uri lloyd. copyright, , by john uri lloyd. [_all rights reserved._] preface [illustration] books are as tombstones made by the living for the living, but destined soon only to remind us of the dead. the preface, like an epitaph, seems vainly to "implore the passing tribute" of a moment's interest. no man is allured by either a grave-inscription or a preface, unless it be accompanied by that ineffable charm which age casts over mortal productions. libraries, in one sense, represent cemeteries, and the rows of silent volumes, with their dim titles, suggest burial tablets, many of which, alas! mark only cenotaphs--empty tombs. a modern book, no matter how talented the author, carries with it a familiar personality which may often be treated with neglect or even contempt, but a volume a century old demands some reverence; a vellum-bound or hog-skin print, or antique yellow parchment, two, three, five hundred years old, regardless of its contents, impresses one with an indescribable feeling akin to awe and veneration,--as does the wheat from an egyptian tomb, even though it be only wheat. we take such a work from the shelf carefully, and replace it gently. while the productions of modern writers are handled familiarly, as men living jostle men yet alive; those of authors long dead are touched as tho' clutched by a hand from the unseen world; the reader feels that a phantom form opposes his own, and that spectral eyes scan the pages as he turns them. [illustration: "the stern face, ... across the gulf."] the stern face, the penetrating eye of the personage whose likeness forms the frontispiece of the yellowed volume in my hand, speak across the gulf of two centuries, and bid me beware. the title page is read with reverence, and the great tome is replaced with care, for an almost superstitious sensation bids me be cautious and not offend. let those who presume to criticise the intellectual productions of such men be careful; in a few days the dead will face their censors--dead. standing in a library of antiquated works, one senses the shadows of a cemetery. each volume adds to the oppression, each old tome casts the influence of its spirit over the beholder, for have not these old books spirits? the earth-grave covers the mind as well as the body of its moldering occupant, and while only a strong imagination can assume that a spirit hovers over and lingers around inanimate clay, here each title is a voice that speaks as though the heart of its creator still throbbed, the mind essence of the dead writer envelops the living reader. take down that vellum-bound volume,--it was written in one of the centuries long past. the pleasant face of its creator, as fresh as if but a print of yesterday, smiles upon you from the exquisitely engraved copper-plate frontispiece; the mind of the author rises from out the words before you. this man is not dead and his comrades live. turn to the shelves about, before each book stands a guardian spirit,--together they form a phantom army that, invisible to mortals, encircles the beholder. [illustration: "the pleasant face of its creator ... smiles upon you."] ah! this antique library is not as is a church graveyard, only a cemetery for the dead; it is also a mansion for the living. these alcoves are trysting places for elemental shades. essences of disenthralled minds meet here and revel. thoughts of the past take shape and live in this atmosphere,--who can say that pulsations unperceived, beyond the reach of physics or of chemistry, are not as ethereal mind-seeds which, although unseen, yet, in living brain, exposed to such an atmosphere as this, formulate embryotic thought-expressions destined to become energetic intellectual forces? i sit in such a weird library and meditate. the shades of grim authors whisper in my ear, skeleton forms oppose my own, and phantoms possess the gloomy alcoves of the library i am building. [illustration: "skeleton forms oppose my own."] with the object of carrying to the future a section of thought current from the past, the antiquarian libraries of many nations have been culled, and purchases made in every book market of the world. these books surround me. naturally many persons have become interested in the movement, and, considering it a worthy one, unite to further the project, for the purpose is not personal gain. thus it is not unusual for boxes of old chemical or pharmacal volumes to arrive by freight or express, without a word as to the donor. the mail brings manuscripts unprinted, and pamphlets recondite, with no word of introduction. they come unheralded. the authors or the senders realize that in this unique library a place is vacant if any work on connected subjects is missing, and thinking men of the world are uniting their contributions to fill such vacancies. * * * * * enough has been said concerning the ancient library that has bred these reflections, and my own personality does not concern the reader. he can now formulate his conclusions as well perhaps as i, regarding the origin of the manuscript that is to follow, if he concerns himself at all over subjects mysterious or historical, and my connection therewith is of minor importance. whether mr. drury brought the strange paper in person, or sent it by express or mail,--whether it was slipped into a box of books from foreign lands, or whether my hand held the pen that made the record,--whether i stood face to face with mr. drury in the shadows of this room, or have but a fanciful conception of his figure,--whether the artist drew upon his imagination for the vivid likeness of the several personages figured in the book that follows, or from reliable data has given fac-similes authentic,--is immaterial. sufficient be it to say that the manuscript of this book has been in my possession for a period of seven years, and my lips must now be sealed concerning all that transpired in connection therewith outside the subject-matter recorded therein. and yet i can not deny that for these seven years i have hesitated concerning my proper course, and more than once have decided to cover from sight the fascinating leaflets, hide them among surrounding volumes, and let them slumber until chance should bring them to the attention of the future student. these thoughts rise before me this gloomy day of december, , as, snatching a moment from the exactions of business, i sit among these old volumes devoted to science-lore, and again study over the unique manuscript, and meditate; i hesitate again: shall i, or shall i not?--but a duty is a duty. perhaps the mysterious part of the subject will be cleared to me only when my own thought-words come to rest among these venerable relics of the past--when books that i have written become companions of ancient works about me--for then i can claim relationship with the shadows that flit in and out, and can demand that they, the ghosts of the library, commune with the shade that guards the book that holds this preface. john uri lloyd. preface to this edition. the foot-note on page , with the connected matter, has awakened considerable interest in the life and fate of professor daniel vaughn. the undersigned has received many letters imparting interesting information relating to professor vaughn's early history, and asking many questions concerning a man of whose memory the writer thinks so highly but whose name is generally unknown. indeed, as some have even argued that the author of etidorhpa has no personal existence, the words john uri lloyd being a _nom de plume_, so others have accepted professor vaughn to have been a fanciful creation of the mystical author. professor daniel vaughn was one whose life lines ran nearly parallel with those of the late professor c. s. rafinesque, whose eventful history has been so graphically written by professor r. ellsworth call. the cups of these two talented men were filled with privation's bitterness, and in no other place has this writer known the phrase "the deadly parallel" so aptly appropriate. both came to america, scholars, scientists by education; both traveled through kentucky, teachers; both gave freely to the world, and both suffered in their old age, dying in poverty--rafinesque perishing in misery in philadelphia and vaughn in cincinnati. daniel vaughn was not a myth, and, in order that the reader may know something of the life and fate of this eccentric man, an appendix has been added to this edition of etidorhpa, in which a picture of his face is shown as the writer knew it in life, and in which brief mention is made of his record. the author here extends his thanks to professor richard nelson and to father eugene brady for their kindness to the readers of etidorhpa and himself, for to these gentlemen is due the credit of the appended historical note. j. u. l. a valuable and unique library. from the pharmaceutical era, new york, october, . in cincinnati is one of the most famous botanical and pharmacal libraries in the world, and by scientists it is regarded as an invaluable store of knowledge upon those branches of medical science. so famous is it that one of the most noted pharmacologists and chemists of germany, on a recent trip to this country, availed himself of its rich collection as a necessary means of completing his study in the line of special drug history. when it is known that he has devoted a life of nearly eighty years to the study of pharmacology, and is an emeritus professor in the famous university of strassburg, the importance of his action will be understood and appreciated. we refer to prof. frederick flueckiger, who, in connection with daniel hanbury, wrote pharmacographia and other standard works. attached to the library is an herbarium, begun by mr. curtis gates lloyd when a schoolboy, in which are to be found over , specimens of the flora of almost every civilized country on the globe. the collections are the work of two brothers, begun when in early boyhood. in money they are priceless, yet it is the intention of the founders that they shall be placed, either before or at their death, in some college or university where all students may have access to them without cost or favor, and their wills are already made to this end, although the institution to receive the bequest is not yet selected. eager requests have been made that they be sent to foreign universities, where only, some persons believe, they can receive the appreciation they deserve. the resting place of this collection is a neat three-story house at west court street, rebuilt to serve as a library building. on the door is a plate embossed with the name lloyd, the patronymic of the brothers in question. they are john uri and curtis gates lloyd. every hour that can be spent by these men from business or necessary recreation is spent here. mr. c. g. lloyd devotes himself entirely to the study of botany and connected subjects, while his brother is equally devoted to materia medica, pharmacy, and chemistry. in the botanical department are the best works obtainable in every country, and there the study of botany may be carried to any height. in point of age, some of them go back almost to the time when the art of printing was discovered. two copies of aristotle are notable. a greek version bound in vellum was printed in . another, in parallel columns of greek and latin, by pacius, was published in . both are in excellent preservation. a bibliographical rarity (two editions) is the "historia plantarum," by pinaeus, which was issued, one in , the other in . it appears to have been a first attempt at the production of colored plates. plants that were rare at that time are colored by hand, and then have a glossy fixative spread over them, causing the colors still to be as bright and fresh as the day that the three-hundred-years-dead workmen laid them on. ranged in their sequence are fifty volumes of the famous author, linnæus. mr. lloyd has a very complete list of the linnæan works, and his commissioners in europe and america are looking out for the missing volumes. an extremely odd work is the book of dr. josselyn, entitled "new england rarities," in which the puritan author discusses wisely on "byrds, beastes and fishes" of the new world. dr. carolus plumierus, a french savant, who flourished in , contributes an exhaustive work on the "flora of the antilles." he is antedated many years, however, by dr. john clayton, who is termed johannes claytonus, and dr. john frederick gronovius. these gentlemen collated a work entitled the "flora of virginia," which is among the first descriptions of botany in the united states. two venerable works are those of mattioli, an italian writer, who gave his knowledge to the world in , and levinus lemnius, who wrote "de miraculis occultis naturæ" in . the father of modern systematized botany is conceded to be mons. j. p. tournefort, whose comprehensive work was published in . it is the fortune of mr. lloyd to possess an original edition in good condition. his "histoire des plantes," paris ( ), is also on the shelves. in the modern department of the library are the leading french and german works. spanish and italian authors are also on the shelves, the lloyd collection of spanish flora being among the best extant. twenty-two volumes of rice paper, bound in bright yellow and stitched in silk, contain the flora of japan. all the leaves are delicately tinted by those unique flower-painters, the japanese. this rare work was presented to the lloyd library by dr. charles rice, of new york, who informed the lloyds that only one other set could be found in america. one of the most noted books in the collection of j. u. lloyd is a materia medica written by dr. david schoepf, a learned german scholar, who traveled through this country in . but a limited number of copies were printed, and but few are extant. one is in the erlangen library in germany. this mr. lloyd secured, and had it copied verbatim. in later years dr. charles rice obtained an original print, and exchanged it for that copy. a like work is that of dr. jonathan carver of the provincial troops in america, published in london in . it treats largely of canadian materia medica. manasseh cutler's work, , also adorns this part of the library. in addition to almost every work on this subject, mr. lloyd possesses complete editions of the leading serials and pharmaceutical lists published in the last three quarters of a century. another book, famous in its way, is barton's "collections toward a materia medica of the united states," published in , , and . several noted botanists and chemists have visited the library in recent years. prof. flueckiger formed the acquaintance of the lloyds through their work, "drugs and medicines of north america," being struck by the exhaustive references and foot-notes. students and lovers of the old art of copper-plate engraving especially find much in the ornate title pages and portraits to please their æsthetic sense. the founders are not miserly, and all students and delvers into the medical and botanical arts are always welcome. this library of rare books has been collected without ostentation and with the sole aim to benefit science and humanity. we must not neglect to state that the library is especially rich in books pertaining to the american eclectics and thomsonians. since it has been learned that this library is at the disposal of students and is to pass intact to some worthy institution of learning, donations of old or rare books are becoming frequent. contents. page. prologue--history of llewellyn drury, chapter. i. home of llewellyn drury--"never less alone than when alone," ii. a friendly conference with prof. chickering, iii. a second interview with the mysterious visitor, iv. a search for knowledge--the alchemistic letter, v. the writing of "my confession," vi. kidnapped, vii. a wild night--i am prematurely aged, viii. a lesson in mind study, ix. i can not establish my identity, x. my journey towards the end of earth begins--the adepts brotherhood, xi. my journey continues--instinct, xii. a cavern discovered--biswell's hill, xiii. the punch bowls and caverns of kentucky--"into the unknown country," xiv. farewell to god's sunshine--"the echo of the cry," xv. a zone of light, deep within the earth, xvi. vitalized darkness--the narrows in science, xvii. the fungus forest--enchantment, xviii. the food of man, xix. the cry from a distance--i rebel against continuing the journey, first interlude.--the narrative interrupted. xx. my unbidden guest proves his statements, and refutes my philosophy, my unbidden guest continues his manuscript. xxi. my weight disappearing, second interlude. xxii. the story again interrupted--my guest departs, xxiii. scientific men questioned--aristotle's ether, xxiv. the soliloquy of prof. daniel vaughn--"gravitation is the beginning and gravitation is the end: all earthly bodies kneel to gravitation," the unbidden guest returns to read his manuscript, continuing the narrative. xxv. the mother of a volcano--"you can not disprove, and you dare not admit," xxvi. motion from inherent energy--"lead me deeper into this expanding study," xxvii. sleep, dreams, nightmare--"strangle the life from my body," third interlude.--the narrative again interrupted. xxviii. a challenge--my unbidden guest accepts it, xxix. beware of biology--the science of the life of man--the old man relates a story as an object lesson, xxx. looking backward--the living brain, the manuscript continued. xxxi. a lesson on volcanoes--primary colors are capable of farther subdivision, xxxii. matter is retarded motion--"a wail of sadness inexpressible," xxxiii. "a study of true science is a study of god"--communing with angels, xxxiv. i cease to breathe, and yet live, xxxv. "a certain point within a circle"--men are as parasites on the roof of earth, xxxvi. the drinks of man, xxvii. the drunkard's voice, xxxviii. the drunkard's den, xxxix. among the drunkards, xl. further temptation--etidorhpa appears, xli. misery, xlii. eternity without time, fourth interlude. xliii. the last contest, the narrative continued. xliv. the fathomless abyss--the edge of the earth's shell, xlv. my heart-throb is stilled, and yet i live, xlvi. the inner circle, or the end of gravitation--in the bottomless gulf, xlvii. hearing without ears--"what will be the end?" xlviii. why and how--the straggling ray of light from those farthermost outreaches, xlix. oscillating through space--the earth shell above us, l. my weight annihilated--"tell me," i cried in alarm, "is this a living tomb?" li. is that a mortal?--"the end of earth," fifth interlude. lii. the last farewell, epilogue--letter accompanying the mysterious manuscript, illustrations. full-page. likeness of the--man--who--did--it. frontispiece page. preface introduction--"here lies the bones," etc. iii. "and to my amazement, saw a white-haired man." , . "the same glittering, horrible, mysterious knife." , . "fac-simile of the mysterious manuscript of i--am--the--man-- who--did--it." , . "my arms were firmly grasped by two persons." . "map of kentucky near entrance to cavern." , . "confronted by a singular looking being." , . "this struggling ray of sunlight is to be your last for years." , . "i was in a forest of colossal fungi." , . "monstrous cubical crystals." , . "far as the eye could reach the glassy barrier spread as a crystal mirror." , . "soliloquy of prof. daniel vaughn--'gravitation is the beginning, and gravitation is the end; all earthly bodies kneel to gravitation.'" , . "we came to a metal boat." , . "facing the open window he turned the pupils of his eyes upward." , . "we finally reached a precipitous bluff." , . "the wall descended perpendicularly to seemingly infinite depths." , . etidorhpa. , . "we passed through caverns filled with creeping reptiles." , . "flowers and structures beautiful, insects gorgeous." , . "with fear and trembling i crept on my knees to his side." , . diagram descriptive of journey from the kentucky cavern to the "end of earth," showing section of earth's crust. , . "suspended in vacancy, he seemed to float." , . "i stood alone in my room holding the mysterious manuscript." , . fac-simile of letter from i--am--the--man. . manuscript dedication of author's edition. , . half-page and text cuts. "the stern face." fac-simile, reduced from copper plate title page of the botanical work ( ), pages, of simonis paulli, d., a danish physician. original plate × - / inches. iv. "the pleasant face." fac-simile of the original copper plate frontispiece to the finely illustrated botanical work of joannes burmannus, m.d., descriptive of the plants collected by carolus plumierus. antique. original plate × inches. v. "skeleton forms oppose my own." photograph of john uri lloyd in the gloomy alcove of the antiquated library. vi. "let me have your answer now." . "i espied upon the table a long white hair." . "drew the knife twice across the front of the door-knob." . "i was taken from the vehicle, and transferred to a block-house." . "the dead man was thrown overboard." . "a mirror was thrust beneath my gaze." . "i am the man you seek." . "we approach daylight, i can see your face." . "seated himself on a natural bench of stone." . "an endless variety of stony figures." . cuts showing water and brine surfaces. . cuts showing earth chambers in which water rises above brine. . cuts showing that if properly connected, water and brine reverse the usual law as to the height of their surfaces. , . "i bounded upward fully six feet." . "i fluttered to the earth as a leaf would fall." . "we leaped over great inequalities." . "the bit of garment fluttered listlessly away to the distance, and then--vacancy." . cut showing that water may be made to flow from a tube higher than the surface of the water. . cut showing how an artesian fountain may be made without earth strata. . "rising abruptly, he grasped my hand." . "a brain, a living brain, my own brain." . "shape of drop of water in the earth cavern." . "we would skip several rods, alighting gently." . "an uncontrollable, inexpressible desire to flee." . "i dropped on my knees before him." . "handing me one of the halves, he spoke the single word, 'drink.'" . "each finger pointed towards the open way in front." . "telescoped energy spheres." . "space dirt on energy spheres." . "i drew back the bar of iron to smite the apparently defenseless being in the forehead." . "he sprung from the edge of the cliff into the abyss below, carrying me with him into its depths." . "the earth and its atmosphere." . prologue. my name was johannes llewellyn llongollyn drury. i was named llewellyn at my mother's desire, out of respect to her father, dr. evan llewellyn, the scientist and speculative philosopher, well known to curious students as the author of various rare works on occult subjects. the other given names were ancestral also, but when i reached the age of appreciation, they naturally became distasteful; so it is that in early youth i dropped the first and third of these cumbersome words, and retained only the second christian name. while perhaps the reader of these lines may regard this cognomen with less favor than either of the others, still i liked it, as it was the favorite of my mother, who always used the name in full; the world, however, contracted llewellyn to lew, much to the distress of my dear mother, who felt aggrieved at the liberty. after her death i decided to move to a western city, and also determined, out of respect to her memory, to select from and rearrange the letters of my several names, and construct therefrom three short, terse words, which would convey to myself only, the resemblance of my former name. hence it is that the cincinnati directory does not record my self-selected name, which i have no reason to bring before the public. to the reader my name is llewellyn drury. i might add that my ancestors were among the early settlers of what is now new york city, and were direct descendants of the early welsh kings; but these matters do not concern the reader, and it is not of them that i now choose to write. my object in putting down these preliminary paragraphs is simply to assure the reader of such facts, and such only, as may give him confidence in my personal sincerity and responsibility, in order that he may with a right understanding read the remarkable statements that occur in the succeeding chapters. the story i am about to relate is very direct, and some parts of it are very strange, not to say marvelous; but not on account of its strangeness alone do i ask for the narrative a reading;--that were mere trifling. what is here set down happened as recorded, but i shall not attempt to explain things which even to myself are enigmatical. let the candid reader read the story as i have told it, and make out of it what he can, or let him pass the page by unread--i shall not insist on claiming his further attention. only, if he does read, i beg him to read with an open mind, without prejudice and without predilection. who or what i am as a participant in this work is of small importance. i mention my history only for the sake of frankness and fairness. i have nothing to gain by issuing the volume. neither do i court praise nor shun censure. my purpose is to tell the truth. early in the fifties i took up my residence in the queen city, and though a very young man, found the employment ready that a friend had obtained for me with a manufacturing firm engaged in a large and complicated business. my duties were varied and peculiar, of such a nature as to tax body and mind to the utmost, and for several years i served in the most exacting of business details. besides the labor which my vocation entailed, with its manifold and multiform perplexities, i voluntarily imposed upon myself other tasks, which i pursued in the privacy of my own bachelor apartments. an inherited love for books on abstruse and occult subjects, probably in part the result of my blood connection with dr. evan llewellyn, caused me to collect a unique library, largely on mystical subjects, in which i took the keenest delight. my business and my professional duties by day, and my studies at night, made my life a busy one. in the midst of my work and reading i encountered the character whose strange story forms the essential part of the following narrative. i may anticipate by saying that the manuscript to follow only incidentally concerns myself, and that if possible i would relinquish all connection therewith. it recites the physical, mental, and moral adventures of one whose life history was abruptly thrust upon my attention, and as abruptly interrupted. the vicissitudes of his body and soul, circumstances seemed to compel me to learn and to make public. etidorpha. chapter i. "never less alone than when alone." more than thirty years ago occurred the first of the series of remarkable events i am about to relate. the exact date i can not recall; but it was in november, and, to those familiar with november weather in the ohio valley, it is hardly necessary to state that the month is one of possibilities. that is to say, it is liable to bring every variety of weather, from the delicious, dreamy indian summer days that linger late in the fall, to a combination of rain, hail, snow, sleet,--in short, atmospheric conditions sufficiently aggravating to develop a suicidal mania in any one the least susceptible to such influences. while the general character of the month is much the same the country over,--showing dull grey tones of sky, abundant rains that penetrate man as they do the earth; cold, shifting winds, that search the very marrow,--it is always safe to count more or less upon the probability of the unexpected throughout the month. the particular day which ushered in the event about to be chronicled, was one of these possible heterogeneous days presenting a combination of sunshine, shower, and snow, with winds that rang all the changes from balmy to blustery, a morning air of caloric and an evening of numbing cold. the early morning started fair and sunny; later came light showers suddenly switched by shifting winds into blinding sleet, until the middle of the afternoon found the four winds and all the elements commingled in one wild orgy with clashing and roaring as of a great organ with all the stops out, and all the storm-fiends dancing over the key-boards! nightfall brought some semblance of order to the sounding chaos, but still kept up the wild music of a typical november day, with every accompaniment of bleakness, gloom, and desolation. thousands of chimneys, exhaling murky clouds of bituminous soot all day, had covered the city with the proverbial pall which the winds in their sport had shifted hither and yon, but as, thoroughly tired out, they subsided into silence, the smoky mesh suddenly settled over the houses and into the streets, taking possession of the city and contributing to the melancholy wretchedness of such of the inhabitants as had to be out of doors. through this smoke the red sun when visible had dragged his downward course in manifest discouragement, and the hastening twilight soon gave place to the blackness of darkness. night reigned supreme. thirty years ago electric lighting was not in vogue, and the system of street lamps was far less complete than at present, although the gas burned in them may not have been any worse. the lamps were much fewer and farther between, and the light which they emitted had a feeble, sickly aspect, and did not reach any distance into the moist and murky atmosphere. and so the night was dismal enough, and the few people upon the street were visible only as they passed directly beneath the lamps, or in front of lighted windows; seeming at other times like moving shadows against a black ground. as i am like to be conspicuous in these pages, it may be proper to say that i am very susceptible to atmospheric influences. i figure among my friends as a man of quiet disposition, but i am at times morose, although i endeavor to conceal this fact from others. my nervous system is a sensitive weather-glass. sometimes i fancy that i must have been born under the planet saturn, for i find myself unpleasantly influenced by moods ascribed to that depressing planet, more especially in its disagreeable phases, for i regret to state that i do not find corresponding elation, as i should, in its brighter aspects. i have an especial dislike for wintry weather, a dislike which i find growing with my years, until it has developed almost into positive antipathy and dread. on the day i have described, my moods had varied with the weather. the fitfulness of the winds had found its way into my feelings, and the somber tone of the clouds into my meditations. i was restless as the elements, and a deep sense of dissatisfaction with myself and everything else, possessed me. i could not content myself in any place or position. reading was distasteful, writing equally so; but it occurred to me that a brisk walk, for a few blocks, might afford relief. muffling myself up in my overcoat and fur cap, i took the street, only to find the air gusty and raw, and i gave up in still greater disgust, and returning home, after drawing the curtains and locking the doors, planted myself in front of a glowing grate fire, firmly resolved to rid myself of myself by resorting to the oblivion of thought, reverie, or dream. to sleep was impossible, and i sat moodily in an easy chair, noting the quarter and half-hour strokes as they were chimed out sweetly from the spire of st. peter's cathedral, a few blocks away. nine o'clock passed with its silver-voiced song of "home, sweet home"; ten, and then eleven strokes of the ponderous bell which noted the hours, roused me to a strenuous effort to shake off the feelings of despondency, unrest, and turbulence, that all combined to produce a state of mental and physical misery now insufferable. rising suddenly from my chair, without a conscious effort i walked mechanically to a book-case, seized a volume at random, reseated myself before the fire, and opened the book. it proved to be an odd, neglected volume, "riley's dictionary of latin quotations." at the moment there flashed upon me a conscious duality of existence. had the old book some mesmeric power? i seemed to myself two persons, and i quickly said aloud, as if addressing my double: "if i can not quiet you, turbulent spirit, i can at least adapt myself to your condition. i will read this book haphazard from bottom to top, or backward, if necessary, and if this does not change the subject often enough, i will try noah webster." opening the book mechanically at page , i glanced at the bottom line and read, "nunquam minus solus quam cum solus" (never less alone than when alone). these words arrested my thoughts at once, as, by a singular chance, they seemed to fit my mood; was it or was it not some conscious invisible intelligence that caused me to select that page, and brought the apothegm to my notice? again, like a flash, came the consciousness of duality, and i began to argue with my other self. "this is arrant nonsense," i cried aloud; "even though cicero did say it, and, it is on a par with many other delusive maxims that have for so many years embittered the existence of our modern youth by misleading thought. do you know, mr. cicero, that this statement is not sound? that it is unworthy the position you occupy in history as a thinker and philosopher? that it is a contradiction in itself, for if a man is alone he is alone, and that settles it?" i mused in this vein a few moments, and then resumed aloud: "it won't do, it won't do; if one is alone--the word is absolute,--he is single, isolated, in short, alone; and there can by no manner of possibility be any one else present. take myself, for instance: i am the sole occupant of this apartment; i am alone, and yet you say in so many words that i was never less alone than at this instant." it was not without some misgiving that i uttered these words, for the strange consciousness of my own duality constantly grew stronger, and i could not shake off the reflection that even now there were two of myself in the room, and that i was not so much alone as i endeavored to convince myself. this feeling oppressed me like an incubus; i must throw it off, and, rising, i tossed the book upon the table, exclaiming: "what folly! i am alone,--positively there is no other living thing visible or invisible in the room." i hesitated as i spoke, for the strange, undefined sensation that i was not alone had become almost a conviction; but the sound of my voice encouraged me, and i determined to discuss the subject, and i remarked in a full, strong voice: "i am surely alone; i know i am! why, i will wager everything i possess, even to my soul, that i am alone." i stood facing the smoldering embers of the fire which i had neglected to replenish, uttering these words to settle the controversy for good and all with one person of my dual self, but the other ego seemed to dissent violently, when a soft, clear voice claimed my ear: "you have lost your wager; you are not alone." [illustration: "and to my amazement saw a white-haired man."] i turned instantly towards the direction of the sound, and, to my amazement, saw a white-haired man seated on the opposite side of the room, gazing at me with the utmost composure. i am not a coward, nor a believer in ghosts or illusions, and yet that sight froze me where i stood. it had no supernatural appearance--on the contrary, was a plain, ordinary, flesh-and-blood man; but the weather, the experiences of the day, the weird, inclement night, had all conspired to strain my nerves to the highest point of tension, and i trembled from head to foot. noting this, the stranger said pleasantly: "quiet yourself, my dear sir; you have nothing to fear; be seated." i obeyed, mechanically, and regaining in a few moments some semblance of composure, took a mental inventory of my visitor. who is he? what is he? how did he enter without my notice, and why? what is his business? were all questions that flashed into my mind in quick succession, and quickly flashed out unanswered. the stranger sat eying me composedly, even pleasantly, as if waiting for me to reach some conclusion regarding himself. at last i surmised: "he is a maniac who has found his way here by methods peculiar to the insane, and my personal safety demands that i use him discreetly." "very good," he remarked, as though reading my thoughts; "as well think that as anything else." "but why are you here? what is your business?" i asked. "you have made and lost a wager," he said. "you have committed an act of folly in making positive statements regarding a matter about which you know nothing--a very common failing, by the way, on the part of mankind, and concerning which i wish first to set you straight." the ironical coolness with which he said this provoked me, and i hastily rejoined: "you are impertinent; i must ask you to leave my house at once." "very well," he answered; "but if you insist upon this, i shall, on behalf of cicero, claim the stake of your voluntary wager, which means that i must first, by natural though violent means, release your soul from your body." so saying he arose, drew from an inner pocket a long, keen knife, the blade of which quiveringly glistened as he laid it upon the table. moving his chair so as to be within easy reach of the gleaming weapon, he sat down, and again regarded me with the same quiet composure i had noted, and which was fast dispelling my first impression concerning his sanity. i was not prepared for his strange action; in truth, i was not prepared for anything; my mind was confused concerning the whole night's doings, and i was unable to reason clearly or consecutively, or even to satisfy myself what i did think, if indeed i thought at all. the sensation of fear, however, was fast leaving me; there was something reassuring in my unbidden guest's perfect ease of manner, and the mild, though searching gaze of his eyes, which were wonderful in their expression. i began to observe his personal characteristics, which impressed me favorably, and yet were extraordinary. he was nearly six feet tall, and perfectly straight; well proportioned, with no tendency either to leanness or obesity. but his head was an object from which i could not take my eyes,--such a head surely i had never before seen on mortal shoulders. the chin, as seen through his silver beard, was rounded and well developed, the mouth straight, with pleasant lines about it, the jaws square and, like the mouth, indicating decision, the eyes deep set and arched with heavy eyebrows, and the whole surmounted by a forehead so vast, so high, that it was almost a deformity, and yet it did not impress me unpleasantly; it was the forehead of a scholar, a profound thinker, a deep student. the nose was inclined to aquiline, and quite large. the contour of the head and face impressed me as indicating a man of learning, one who had given a lifetime to experimental as well as speculative thought. his voice was mellow, clear, and distinct, always pleasantly modulated and soft, never loud nor unpleasant in the least degree. one remarkable feature i must not fail to mention--his hair; this, while thin and scant upon the top of his head, was long, and reached to his shoulders; his beard was of unusual length, descending almost to his waist; his hair, eyebrows, and beard were all of singular whiteness and purity, almost transparent, a silvery whiteness that seemed an aureolar sheen in the glare of the gaslight. what struck me as particularly remarkable was that his skin looked as soft and smooth as that of a child; there was not a blemish in it. his age was a puzzle none could guess; stripped of his hair, or the color of it changed, he might be twenty-five,--given a few wrinkles, he might be ninety. taken altogether, i had never seen his like, nor anything approaching his like, and for an instant there was a faint suggestion to my mind that he was not of this earth, but belonged to some other planet. i now fancy he must have read my impressions of him as these ideas shaped themselves in my brain, and that he was quietly waiting for me to regain a degree of self-possession that would allow him to disclose the purpose of his visit. he was first to break the silence: "i see that you are not disposed to pay your wager any more than i am to collect it, so we will not discuss that. i admit that my introduction to-night was abrupt, but you can not deny that you challenged me to appear." i was not clear upon the point, and said so. "your memory is at fault," he continued, "if you can not recall your experiences of the day just past. did you not attempt to interest yourself in modern book lore, to fix your mind in turn upon history, chemistry, botany, poetry, and general literature? and all these failing, did you not deliberately challenge cicero to a practical demonstration of an old apothegm of his that has survived for centuries, and of your own free will did not you make a wager that, as an admirer of cicero's, i am free to accept?" to all this i could but silently assent. "very good, then; we will not pursue this subject further, as it is not relevant to my purpose, which is to acquaint you with a narrative of unusual interest, upon certain conditions, with which if you comply, you will not only serve yourself, but me as well." "please name the conditions," i said. "they are simple enough," he answered. "the narrative i speak of is in manuscript. i will produce it in the near future, and my design is to read it aloud to you, or to allow you to read it to me, as you may select. further, my wish is that during the reading you shall interpose any objection or question that you deem proper. this reading will occupy many evenings, and i shall of necessity be with you often. when the reading is concluded, we will seal the package securely, and i shall leave you forever. you will then deposit the manuscript in some safe place, and let it remain for thirty years. when this period has elapsed, i wish you to publish this history to the world." "your conditions seem easy," i said, after a few seconds' pause. "they are certainly very simple; do you accept?" i hesitated, for the prospect of giving myself up to a succession of interviews with this extraordinary and mysterious personage seemed to require consideration. he evidently divined my thoughts, for, rising from his chair, he said abruptly: "let me have your answer now." i debated the matter no further, but answered: "i accept, conditionally." "name your conditions," the guest replied. "i will either publish the work, or induce some other man to do so." [illustration: "let me have your answer now."] "good," he said; "i will see you again," with a polite bow; and turning to the door which i had previously locked, he opened it softly, and with a quiet "good night" disappeared in the hall-way. i looked after him with bewildered senses; but a sudden impulse caused me to glance toward the table, when i saw that he had forgotten his knife. with the view of returning this, i reached to pick it up, but my finger tips no sooner touched the handle than a sudden chill shivered along my nerves. not as an electric shock, but rather as a sensation of extreme cold was the current that ran through me in an instant. rushing into the hall-way to the landing of the stairs, i called after the mysterious being, "you have forgotten your knife," but beyond the faint echo of my voice, i heard no sound. the phantom was gone. a moment later i was at the foot of the stairs, and had thrown open the door. a street lamp shed an uncertain light in front of the house. i stepped out and listened intently for a moment, but not a sound was audible, if indeed i except the beating of my own heart, which throbbed so wildly that i fancied i heard it. no footfall echoed from the deserted streets; all was silent as a churchyard, and i closed and locked the door softly, tiptoed my way back to my room, and sank collapsed into an easy chair. i was more than exhausted; i quivered from head to foot, not with cold, but with a strange nervous chill that found intensest expression in my spinal column, and seemed to flash up and down my back vibrating like a feverous pulse. this active pain was succeeded by a feeling of frozen numbness, and i sat i know not how long, trying to tranquilize myself and think temperately of the night's occurrence. by degrees i recovered my normal sensations, and directing my will in the channel of sober reasoning, i said to myself: "there can be no mistake about his visit, for his knife is here as a witness to the fact. so much is sure, and i will secure that testimony at all events." with this reflection i turned to the table, but to my astonishment i discovered that the knife had disappeared. it needed but this miracle to start the perspiration in great cold beads from every pore. my brain was in a whirl, and reeling into a chair, i covered my face with my hands. how long i sat in this posture i do not remember. i only know that i began to doubt my own sanity, and wondered if this were not the way people became deranged. had not my peculiar habits of isolation, irregular and intense study, erratic living, all conspired to unseat reason? surely here was every ground to believe so; and yet i was able still to think consistently and hold steadily to a single line of thought. insane people can not do that, i reflected, and gradually the tremor and excitement wore away. when i had become calmer and more collected, and my sober judgment said, "go to bed; sleep just as long as you can; hold your eyelids down, and when you awake refreshed, as you will, think out the whole subject at your leisure," i arose, threw open the shutters, and found that day was breaking. hastily undressing i went to bed, and closed my eyes, vaguely conscious of some soothing guardianship. perhaps because i was physically exhausted, i soon lost myself in the oblivion of sleep. [illustration: "i espied upon the table a long white hair."] i did not dream,--at least i could not afterwards remember my dream if i had one, but i recollect thinking that somebody struck ten distinct blows on my door, which seemed to me to be of metal and very sonorous. these ten blows in my semi-conscious state i counted. i lay very quiet for a time collecting my thoughts and noting various objects about the room, until my eye caught the dial of a french clock upon the mantel. it was a few minutes past ten, and the blows i had heard were the strokes of the hammer upon the gong in the clock. the sun was shining into the room, which was quite cold, for the fire had gone out. i arose, dressed myself quickly, and after thoroughly laving my face and hands in ice-cold water, felt considerably refreshed. before going out to breakfast, while looking around the room for a few things which i wanted to take with me, i espied upon the table a long white hair. this was indeed a surprise, for i had about concluded that my adventure of the previous night was a species of waking nightmare, the result of overworked brain and weakened body. but here was tangible evidence to the contrary, an assurance that my mysterious visitor was not a fancy or a dream, and his parting words, "i will see you again," recurred to me with singular effect. "he will see me again; very well; i will preserve this evidence of his visit for future use." i wound the delicate filament into a little coil, folded it carefully in a bit of paper, and consigned it to a corner in my pocket-book, though not without some misgiving that it too might disappear as did the knife. the strange experience of that night had a good effect on me; i became more regular in all my habits, took abundant sleep and exercise, was more methodical in my modes of study and reasoning, and in a short time found myself vastly improved in every way, mentally and physically. the days went fleeting into weeks, the weeks into months, and while the form and figure of the white-haired stranger were seldom absent from my mind, he came no more. chapter ii. a friendly conference. it is rare, in our present civilization, to find a man who lives alone. this remark does not apply to hermits or persons of abnormal or perverted mental tendencies, but to the majority of mankind living and moving actively among their fellows, and engaged in the ordinary occupations of humanity. every man must have at least one confidant, either of his own household, or within the circle of his intimate friends. there may possibly be rare exceptions among persons of genius in statecraft, war, or commerce, but it is doubtful even in such instances if any keep all their thoughts to themselves, hermetically sealed from their fellows. as a prevailing rule, either a loving wife or very near friend shares the inner thought of the most secretive individual, even when secrecy seems an indispensable element to success. the tendency to a free interchange of ideas and experiences is almost universal, instinct prompting the natural man to unburden his most sacred thought, when the proper confidant and the proper time come for the disclosure. for months i kept to myself the events narrated in the preceding chapter. and this for several reasons: first, the dread of ridicule that would follow the relation of the fantastic occurrences, and the possible suspicion of my sanity, that might result from the recital; second, very grave doubts as to the reality of my experiences. but by degrees self-confidence was restored, as i reasoned the matter over and reassured myself by occasional contemplation of the silvery hair i had coiled in my pocket-book, and which at first i had expected would vanish as did the stranger's knife. there came upon me a feeling that i should see my weird visitor again, and at an early day. i resisted this impression, for it was a feeling of the idea, rather than a thought, but the vague expectation grew upon me in spite of myself, until at length it became a conviction which no argument or logic could shake. curiously enough, as the original incident receded into the past, this new idea thrust itself into the foreground, and i began in my own mind to court another interview. at times, sitting alone after night, i felt that i was watched by unseen eyes; these eyes haunted me in my solitude, and i was morally sure of the presence of another than myself in the room. the sensation was at first unpleasant, and i tried to throw it off, with partial success. but only for a little while could i banish the intrusive idea, and as the thought took form, and the invisible presence became more actual to consciousness, i hoped that the stranger would make good his parting promise, "i will see you again." on one thing i was resolved; i would at least be better informed on the subject of hallucinations and apparitions, and not be taken unawares as i had been. to this end i decided to confer with my friend, professor chickering, a quiet, thoughtful man, of varied accomplishments, and thoroughly read upon a great number of topics, especially in the literature of the marvelous. so to the professor i went, after due appointment, and confided to him full particulars of my adventure. he listened patiently throughout, and when i had finished, assured me in a matter-of-fact way that such hallucinations were by no means rare. his remark was provoking, for i did not expect from the patient interest he had shown while i was telling my story, that the whole matter would be dismissed thus summarily. i said with some warmth: "but this was not a hallucination. i tried at first to persuade myself that it was illusory, but the more i have thought the experience over, the more real it becomes to me." "perhaps you were dreaming," suggested the professor. "no," i answered; "i have tried that hypothesis, and it will not do. many things make that view untenable." "do not be too sure of that," he said; "you were, by your own account, in a highly nervous condition, and physically tired. it is possible, perhaps probable, that in this state, as you sat in your chair, you dozed off for a short interval, during which the illusion flashed through your mind." "how do you explain the fact that incidents occupying a large portion of the night, occurred in an interval which you describe as a flash?" "easily enough; in dreams time may not exist: periods embracing weeks or months may be reduced to an instant. long journeys, hours of conversation, or a multitude of transactions, may be compressed into a term measured by the opening or closing of a door, or the striking of a clock. in dreams, ordinary standards of reason find no place, while ideas or events chase through the mind more rapidly than thought." "conceding all this, why did i, considering the unusual character of the incidents, accept them as real, as substantial, as natural as the most commonplace events?" "there is nothing extraordinary in that," he replied. "in dreams all sorts of absurdities, impossibilities, discordancies, and violation of natural law appear realities, without exciting the least surprise or suspicion. imagination runs riot and is supreme, and reason for the time is dormant. we see ghosts, spirits, the forms of persons dead or living,--we suffer pain, pleasure, hunger,--and all sensations and emotions, without a moment's question of their reality." "do any of the subjects of our dreams or visions leave tangible evidences of their presence?" "assuredly not," he answered, with an incredulous, half-impatient gesture; "the idea is absurd." "then i was not dreaming," i mused. without looking at me, the professor went on: "these false presentiments may have their origin in other ways, as from mental disorders caused by indigestion. nicolai, a noted bookseller of berlin, was thus afflicted. his experiences are interesting and possibly suggestive. let me read some of them to you." the professor hereupon glanced over his bookshelf, selected a volume, and proceeded to read:[ ] [ ] this work i have found to be vol. iv. of chambers' miscellany, published by gould and lincoln, boston.--j. u. l. "i generally saw human forms of both sexes; but they usually seemed not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as in a market place, where all are eager to press through the crowd; at times, however, they seemed to be transacting business with each other. i also saw several times, people on horseback, dogs, and birds. "all these phantasms appeared to me in their natural size, and as distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in the uncovered parts, as well as different colors and fashions in their dresses, though the colors seemed somewhat paler than in real nature. none of the figures appeared particularly terrible, comical, or disgusting, most of them being of indifferent shape, and some presenting a pleasant aspect. the longer these phantasms continued to visit me, the more frequently did they return, while at the same time they increased in number about four weeks after they had first appeared. i also began to hear them talk: these phantoms conversed among themselves, but more frequently addressed their discourse to me; their speeches were uncommonly short, and never of an unpleasant turn. at different times there appeared to me both dear and sensible friends of both sexes, whose addresses tended to appease my grief, which had not yet wholly subsided: their consolatory speeches were in general addressed to me when i was alone. sometimes, however, i was accosted by these consoling friends while i was engaged in company, and not unfrequently while real persons were speaking to me. these consolatory addresses consisted sometimes of abrupt phrases, and at other times they were regularly executed." here i interrupted: "i note, professor, that mr. nicolai knew these forms to be illusions." without answering my remark, he continued to read: "there is in imagination a potency far exceeding the fabled power of aladdin's lamp. how often does one sit in wintry evening musings, and trace in the glowing embers the features of an absent friend? imagination, with its magic wand, will there build a city with its countless spires, or marshal contending armies, or drive the tempest-shattered ship upon the ocean. the following story, related by scott, affords a good illustration of this principle: "'not long after the death of an illustrious poet, who had filled, while living, a great station in the eyes of the public, a literary friend, to whom the deceased had been well known, was engaged during the darkening twilight of an autumn evening, in perusing one of the publications which professed to detail the habits and opinions of the distinguished individual who was now no more. as the reader had enjoyed the intimacy of the deceased to a considerable degree, he was deeply interested in the publication, which contained some particulars relating to himself and other friends. a visitor was sitting in the apartment, who was also engaged in reading. their sitting-room opened into an entrance hall, rather fantastically fitted up with articles of armor, skins of wild animals, and the like. it was when laying down his book, and passing into this hall, through which the moon was beginning to shine, that the individual of whom i speak saw right before him, in a standing posture, the exact representation of his departed friend, whose recollection had been so strongly brought to his imagination. he stopped for a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful accuracy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye the peculiarities of dress and position of the illustrious poet. sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance, and stepped onward to the figure, which resolved itself as he approached into the various materials of which it was composed. these were merely a screen occupied by great coats, shawls, plaids, and such other articles as are usually found in a country entrance hall. the spectator returned to the spot from which he had seen the illusion, and endeavored with all his power to recall the image which had been so singularly vivid. but this he was unable to do. and the person who had witnessed the apparition, or, more properly, whose excited state had been the means of raising it, had only to return to the apartment, and tell his young friend under what a striking hallucination he had for a moment labored.'" here i was constrained to call the professor to a halt. "your stories are very interesting," i said, "but i fail to perceive any analogy in either the conditions or the incidents, to my experience. i was fully awake and conscious at the time, and the man i saw appeared and moved about in the full glare of the gaslight,--" "perhaps not," he answered; "i am simply giving you some general illustrations of the subject. but here is a case more to the point." again he read: "a lady was once passing through a wood, in the darkening twilight of a stormy evening, to visit a friend who was watching over a dying child. the clouds were thick--the rain beginning to fall; darkness was increasing; the wind was moaning mournfully through the trees. the lady's heart almost failed her as she saw that she had a mile to walk through the woods in the gathering gloom. but the reflection of the situation of her friend forbade her turning back. excited and trembling, she called to her aid a nervous resolution, and pressed onward. she had not proceeded far when she beheld in the path before her the movement of some very indistinct object. it appeared to keep a little distance ahead of her, and as she made efforts to get nearer to see what it was, it seemed proportionally to recede. the lady began to feel rather unpleasantly. there was some pale white object certainly discernible before her, and it appeared mysteriously to float along, at a regular distance, without any effort at motion. notwithstanding the lady's good sense and unusual resolution, a cold chill began to come over her. she made every effort to resist her fears, and soon succeeded in drawing nearer the mysterious object, when she was appalled at beholding the features of her friend's child, cold in death, wrapt in its shroud. she gazed earnestly, and there it remained distinct and clear before her eyes. she considered it a premonition that her friend's child was dead, and that she must hasten to her aid. but there was the apparition directly in her path. she must pass it. taking up a little stick, she forced herself along to the object, and behold, some little animal scampered away. it was this that her excited imagination had transformed into the corpse of an infant in its winding sheet." i was a little irritated, and once more interrupted the reader warmly: "this is exasperating. now what resemblance is there between the vagaries of a hysterical, weak-minded woman, and my case?" he smiled, and again read: "the numerous stories told of ghosts, or the spirits of persons who are dead, will in most instances be found to have originated in diseased imagination, aggravated by some abnormal defect of mind. we may mention a remarkable case in point, and one which is not mentioned in english works on this subject; it is told by a compiler of les causes célèbres. two young noblemen, the marquises de rambouillet and de precy, belonging to two of the first families of france, made an agreement, in the warmth of their friendship, that the one who died first should return to the other with tidings of the world to come. soon afterwards de rambouillet went to the wars in flanders, while de precy remained at paris, stricken by a fever. lying alone in bed, and severely ill, de precy one day heard a rustling of his bed curtains, and turning round, saw his friend de rambouillet, in full military attire. the sick man sprung over the bed to welcome his friend, but the other receded, and said that he had come to fulfill his promise, having been killed on that very day. he further said that it behooved de precy to think more of the afterworld, as all that was said of it was true, and as he himself would die in his first battle. de precy was then left by the phantom; and it was afterward found that de rambouillet had fallen on that day." "ah," i said, "and so the phantom predicted an event that followed as indicated." "spiritual illusions," explained the professor, "are not unusual, and well authenticated cases are not wanting in which they have been induced in persons of intelligence by functional or organic disorders. in the last case cited, the prediction was followed by a fulfillment, but this was chance or mere coincidence. it would be strange indeed if in the multitude of dreams that come to humanity, some few should not be followed by events so similar as to warrant the belief that they were prefigured. but here is an illustration that fits your case: let me read it: "in some instances it may be difficult to decide whether spectral appearances and spectral noises proceed from physical derangement or from an overwrought state of mind. want of exercise and amusement may also be a prevailing cause. a friend mentions to us the following case: an acquaintance of his, a merchant, in london, who had for years paid very close attention to business, was one day, while alone in his counting house, very much surprised to hear, as he imagined, persons outside the door talking freely about him. thinking it was some acquaintances who were playing off a trick, he opened the door to request them to come in, when to his amazement, he found that nobody was there. he again sat down to his desk, and in a few minutes the same dialogue recommenced. the language was very alarming. one voice seemed to say: 'we have the scoundrel in his own counting house; let us go in and seize him.' 'certainly,' replied the other voice, 'it is right to take him; he has been guilty of a great crime, and ought to be brought to condign punishment.' alarmed at these threats, the bewildered merchant rushed to the door; and there again no person was to be seen. he now locked his door and went home; but the voices, as he thought, followed him through the crowd, and he arrived at his house in a most unenviable state of mind. inclined to ascribe the voices to derangement in mind, he sent for a medical attendant, and told his case, and a certain kind of treatment was prescribed. this, however, failed; the voices menacing him with punishment for purely imaginary crimes continued, and he was reduced to the brink of despair. at length a friend prescribed entire relaxation from business, and a daily game of cricket, which, to his great relief, proved an effectual remedy. the exercise banished the phantom voices, and they were no more heard." "so you think that i am in need of out-door exercise?" "exactly." "and that my experience was illusory, the result of vertigo, or some temporary calenture of the brain?" "to be plain with you, yes." "but i asked you a while ago if specters or phantoms ever leave tangible evidence of their presence." the professor's eyes dilated in interrogation. i continued: "well, this one did. after i had followed him out, i found on the table a long, white hair, which i still have," and producing the little coil from my pocket-book, i handed it to him. he examined it curiously, eyed me furtively, and handed it back with the cautious remark: "i think you had better commence your exercise at once." chapter iii. a second interview with the mysterious visitor. it is not pleasant to have one's mental responsibility brought in question, and the result of my interview with professor chickering was, to put it mildly, unsatisfactory. not that he had exactly questioned my sanity, but it was all too evident that he was disposed to accept my statement of a plain matter-of-fact occurrence with a too liberal modicum of salt. i say "matter-of-fact occurrence" in full knowledge of the truth that i myself had at first regarded the whole transaction as a fantasia or flight of mind, the result of extreme nervous tension; but in the interval succeeding i had abundant opportunity to correlate my thoughts, and to bring some sort of order out of the mental and physical chaos of that strange, eventful night. true, the preliminary events leading up to it were extraordinary; the dismal weather, the depression of body and spirit under which i labored, the wild whirl of thought keeping pace with the elements--in short, a general concatenation of events that seemed to be ordered especially for the introduction of some abnormal visitor--the night would indeed have been incomplete without a ghost! but was it a ghost? there was nothing ghostly about my visitor, except the manner of his entrance and exit. in other respects, he seemed substantial enough. he was, in his manners, courteous and polished as a chesterfield; learned as a savant in his conversation; human in his thoughtful regard of my fears and misgivings; but that tremendous forehead, with its crown of silver hair, the long, translucent beard of pearly whiteness, and above all the astounding facility with which he read my hidden thoughts--these were not natural. the professor had been patient with me--i had a right to expect that; he was entertaining to the extent of reading such excerpts as he had with him on the subject of hallucinations and their supposed causes, but had he not spoiled all by assigning me at last to a place with the questionable, unbalanced characters he had cited? i thought so, and the reflection provoked me; and this thought grew upon me until i came to regard his stories and attendant theories as so much literary trash. my own reflections had been sober and deliberate, and had led me to seek a rational explanation of the unusual phenomena. i had gone to professor chickering for a certain measure of sympathy, and what was more to the point, to secure his suggestions and assistance in the further unraveling of a profound mystery that might contain a secret of untold use to humanity. repulsed by the mode in which my confidence had been received, i decided to do what i should have done from the outset--to keep my own counsel, and to follow alone the investigation to the end, no matter what the result might be. i could not forget or ignore the silver hair i had so religiously preserved. that was genuine; it was as tangible, as real, as convincing a witness as would have been the entire head of my singular visitant, whatever might be his nature. i began to feel at ease the moment my course was decided, and the feeling was at once renewed within me that the gray head would come again, and by degrees that expectation ripened into a desire, only intensified as the days sped by. the weeks passed into months; summer came and went; autumn was fast fading, but the mysterious unknown did not appear. a curious fancy led me now to regard him as my friend, for the mixed and indefinite feelings i felt at first towards him had almost unaccountably been changed to those of sincere regard. he was not always in my thoughts, for i had abundant occupation at all times to keep both brain and hands busy, but there were few evenings in which i did not, just before retiring, give myself up for a brief period to quiet communion with my own thoughts, and i must confess at such times the unknown occupied the larger share of attention. the constant contemplation of any theme begets a feeling of familiarity or acquaintance with the same, and if that subject be an individual, as in the present instance, such contemplation lessens the liability to surprise from any unexpected development. in fact, i not only anticipated a visit, but courted it. the old latin maxim that i had played with, "never less alone than when alone" had domiciled itself within my brain as a permanent lodger--a conviction, a feeling rather than a thought defined, and i had but little difficulty in associating an easy-chair which i had come to place in a certain position for my expected visitor, with his presence. indian summer had passed, and the fall was nearly gone when for some inexplicable reason the number seven began to haunt me. what had i to do with seven, or seven with me? when i sat down at night this persistent number mixed itself in my thoughts, to my intense annoyance. bother take the mystic numeral! what was i to do with seven? i found myself asking this question audibly one evening, when it suddenly occurred to me that i would refer to the date of my friend's visit. i kept no journal, but reference to a record of some business transactions that i had associated with that event showed that it took place on november seventh. that settled the importunate seven! i should look for whomever he was on the first anniversary of his visit, which was the seventh, now close at hand. the instant i had reached this conclusion the number left me, and troubled me no more. november third had passed, the fourth, and the fifth had come, when a stubborn, protesting notion entered my mind that i was yielding to a superstitious idea, and that it was time to control my vacillating will. accordingly on this day i sent word to a friend that, if agreeable to him, i would call on him on the evening of the seventh for a short social chat, but as i expected to be engaged until later than usual, would he excuse me if i did not reach his apartments until ten? the request was singular, but as i was now accounted somewhat odd, it excited no comment, and the answer was returned, requesting me to come. the seventh of november came at last. i was nervous during the day, which seemed to drag tediously, and several times it was remarked of me that i seemed abstracted and ill at ease, but i held my peace. night came cold and clear, and the stars shone brighter than usual, i thought. it was a sharp contrast to the night of a year ago. i took an early supper, for which i had no appetite, after which i strolled aimlessly about the streets, revolving how i should put in the time till ten o'clock, when i was to call upon my friend. i decided to go to the theater, and to the theater i went. the play was spectacular, "aladdin; or, the wonderful lamp." the entertainment, to me, was a flat failure, for i was busy with my thoughts, and it was not long until my thoughts were busy with me, and i found myself attempting to answer a series of questions that finally became embarrassing. "why did you make an appointment for ten o'clock instead of eight, if you wished to keep away from your apartments?" i hadn't thought of that before; it was stupid to a degree, if not ill-mannered, and i frankly admitted as much. "why did you make an appointment at all, in the face of the fact that you not only expected a visitor, but were anxious to meet him?" this was easily answered: because i did not wish to yield to what struck me as superstition. "but do you expect to extend your call until morning?" well, no, i hadn't thought or arranged to do so. "well, then, what is to prevent your expected guest from awaiting your return? or, what assurance have you that he will not encounter you in the street, under circumstances that will provoke or, at the least, embarrass you?" none whatever. "then what have you gained by your stupid perversity?" nothing, beyond the assertion of my own individuality. "why not go home and receive your guest in becoming style?" no; i would not do that. i had started on this course, and i would persevere in it. i would be consistent. and so i persisted, at least until nine o'clock, when i quit the theater in sullen dejection, and went home to make some slight preparation for my evening call. with my latch-key i let myself into the front door of the apartment house wherein i lodged, walked through the hall, up the stair-case, and paused on the threshold of my room, wondering what i would find inside. opening the door i entered, leaving it open behind me so that the light from the hall-way would shine into the room, which was dark, and there was no transom above the door. the grate fire had caked into a solid mass of charred bituminous coal, which shed no illumination beyond a faint red glow at the bottom, showing that it was barely alive, and no more. i struck a match on the underside of the mantel shelf, and as i lit the gas i heard the click of the door latch. i turned instantly; the door had been gently closed by some unknown force if not by unseen hands, for there was no breath of air stirring. this preternatural interference was not pleasant, for i had hoped in the event of another visit from my friend, if friend he was, that he would bring no uncanny or ghostly manifestation to disturb me. i looked at the clock; the index pointed to half past nine. i glanced about the room; it was orderly, everything in proper position, even to the arm-chair that i had been wont to place for my nondescript visitor. it was time to be going, so i turned to the dressing case, brushed my hair, put on a clean scarf, and moved towards the wash-stand, which stood in a little alcove on the opposite side of the room. my self-command well-nigh deserted me as i did so, for there, in the arm-chair that a moment before was empty, sat my guest of a year ago, facing me with placid features! the room began to revolve, a faint, sick feeling came over me, and i reeled into the first convenient chair, and covered my face with my hands. this depression lasted but an instant, however, and as i recovered self-possession, i felt or fancied i felt a pair of penetrating eyes fixed upon me with the same mild, searching gaze i remembered so well. i ventured to look up; sure enough, there they were, the beaming eyes, and there was he! rising from his chair, he towered up to his full height, smiled pleasantly, and with a slight inclination of the head, murmured: "permit me to wish you good evening; i am profoundly glad to meet you again." it was full a minute before i could muster courage to answer: "i wish i could say as much for myself." "and why shouldn't you?" he said, gently and courteously; "you have realized, for the past six months, that i would return; more than that--you have known for some time the very day and almost the exact hour of my coming, have even wished for it, and, in the face of all this, i find you preparing to evade the requirements of common hospitality;--are you doing either me or yourself justice?" i was nettled at the knowledge he displayed of my movements, and of my very thoughts; my old stubbornness asserted itself, and i was rude enough to say: "perhaps it is as you say; at all events, i am obligated to keep an engagement, and with your permission will now retire." it was curious to mark the effect of this speech upon the intruder. he immediately became grave, reached quietly into an inner pocket of his coat, drew thence the same glittering, horrible, mysterious knife that had so terrified and bewildered me a year before, and looking me steadily in the eye, said coldly, yet with a certain tone of sadness: "well, i will not grant permission. it is unpleasant to resort to this style of argument, but i do it to save time and controversy." i stepped back in terror, and reached for the old-fashioned bell-cord, with the heavy tassel at the end, that depended from the ceiling, and was on the point of grasping and giving it a vigorous pull. "not so fast, if you please," he said, sternly, as he stepped forward, and gave the knife a rapid swish through the air above my head, causing the cord to fall in a tangle about my hand, cut cleanly, high above my reach! i gazed in dumb stupor at the rope about my hand, and raised my eyes to the remnant above. that was motionless; there was not the slightest perceptible vibration, such as would naturally be expected. i turned to look at my guest; he had resumed his seat, and had also regained his pleasant expression, but he still held the knife in his hand with his arm extended, at rest, upon the table, which stood upon his right. [illustration: "the same glittering, mysterious knife."] "let us have an end to this folly," he said; "think a moment, and you will see that you are in fault. your error we will rectify easily, and then to business. i will first show you the futility of trying to escape this interview, and then we will proceed to work, for time presses, and there is much to do." having delivered this remark, he detached a single silvery hair from his head, blew it from his fingers, and let it float gently upon the upturned edge of the knife, which was still resting on the table. the hair was divided as readily as had been the bell-cord. i was transfixed with astonishment, for he had evidently aimed to exhibit the quality of the blade, though he made no allusion to the feat, but smilingly went on with his discourse: "it is just a year ago to-night since we first met. upon that occasion you made an agreement with me which you are in honor bound to keep, and--" here he paused as if to note the effect of his words upon me, then added significantly--"will keep. i have been at some pains to impress upon your mind the fact that i would be here to-night. you responded, and knew that i was coming, and yet in obedience to a silly whim, deliberately made a meaningless engagement with no other purpose than to violate a solemn obligation. i now insist that you keep your prior engagement with me, but i do not wish that you should be rude to your friend, so you had better write him a polite note excusing yourself, and dispatch it at once." i saw that he was right, and that there was no shadow of justification for my conduct, or at least i was subdued by his presence, so i wrote the note without delay, and was casting about for some way to send it, when he said: "fold it, seal it, and address it; you seem to forget what is proper." i did as he directed, mechanically, and, without thinking what i was doing, handed it to him. he took it naturally, glanced at the superscription, went to the door which he opened slightly, and handed the billet as if to some messenger who seemed to be in waiting outside,--then closed and locked the door. turning toward me with the apparent object of seeing if i was looking, he deftly drew his knife twice across the front of the door-knob, making a deep cross, and then deposited the knife in his pocket, and resumed his seat.[ ] [ ] i noted afterward that the door-knob, which was of solid metal, was cut deeply, as though made of putty. as soon as he was comfortably seated, he again began the conversation: "now that we have settled the preliminaries, i will ask if you remember what i required of you a year ago?" i thought that i did. "please repeat it; i wish to make sure that you do, then we will start fair." "in the first place, you were to present me with a manuscript--" "hardly correct," he interrupted; "i was to acquaint you with a narrative which is already in manuscript, acquaint you with it, read it to you, if you preferred not to read it to me--" "i beg your pardon," i answered; "that is correct. you were to read the manuscript to me, and during the reading i was to interpose such comments, remarks, or objections, as seemed proper; to embody as interludes, in the manuscript, as my own interpolations, however, and not as part of the original." "very good," he replied, "you have the idea exactly; proceed." "i agreed that when the reading had been completed, i would seal the complete manuscript securely, deposit it in some safe place, there to remain for thirty years, when it must be published." [illustration: "drew his knife twice across the front of the door-knob."] "just so," he answered; "we understand each other as we should. before we proceed further, however, can you think of any point on which you need enlightenment? if so, ask such questions as you choose, and i will answer them." i thought for a moment, but no query occurred to me; after a pause he said: "well, if you think of nothing now, perhaps hereafter questions will occur to you which you can ask; but as it is late, and you are tired, we will not commence now. i will see you just one week from to-night, when we will begin. from that time on, we will follow the subject as rapidly as you choose, but see to it that you make no engagements that will interfere with our work, for i shall be more exacting in the future." i promised, and he rose to go. a sudden impulse seized me, and i said: "may i ask one question?" "certainly." "what shall i call you?" "why call me aught? it is not necessary in addressing each other that any name be used." "but what are you?" i persisted. a pained expression for an instant rested upon his face, and he said, sadly, pausing between the words: "i--am--the--man who--did--it." "did what?" "ask not; the manuscript will tell you. be content, llewellyn, and remember this, that i--am--the--man." so saying he bade me good night, opened the door, and disappeared down the broad stair-case. one week thereafter he appeared promptly, seated himself, and producing a roll of manuscript, handed it to me, saying, "i am listening; you may begin to read." on examination i found each page to be somewhat larger than a sheet of letter paper, with the written matter occupying a much smaller space, so as to leave a wide white border. one hundred pages were in the package. the last sentence ending abruptly indicated that my guest did not expect to complete his task in one evening, and, i may anticipate by saying that with each successive interview he drew about the same amount of writing from his bosom. upon attempting to read the manuscript i at first found myself puzzled by a style of chirography very peculiar and characteristic, but execrably bad. vainly did i attempt to read it; even the opening sentence was not deciphered without long inspection and great difficulty. the old man, whom i had promised that i would fulfill the task, observing my discomfiture, relieved me of the charge, and without a word of introduction, read fluently as follows: the manuscript of i--am--the--man. chapter iv. a search for knowledge.--the alchemistic letter. i am the man who, unfortunately for my future happiness, was dissatisfied with such knowledge as could be derived from ordinary books concerning semi-scientific subjects in which i had long been absorbed. i studied the current works of my day on philosophy and chemistry, hoping therein to find something tangible regarding the relationship that exists between matter and spirit, but studied in vain. astronomy, history, philosophy and the mysterious, incoherent works of alchemy and occultism were finally appealed to, but likewise failed to satisfy me. these studies were pursued in secret, though i am not aware that any necessity existed for concealment. be that as it may, at every opportunity i covertly acquainted myself with such alchemical lore as could be obtained either by purchase or by correspondence with others whom i found to be pursuing investigations in the same direction. a translation of geber's "de claritate alchemiæ," by chance came into my possession, and afterwards an original version from the latin of boerhaave's "elementa chemiæ," published and translated in by peter shaw. this magnificent production threw a flood of light upon the early history of chemistry, being far more elaborate than any modern work. it inspired me with the deepest regard for its talented author, and ultimately introduced me to a brotherhood of adepts, for in this publication, although its author disclaims occultism, is to be found a talisman that will enable any earnest searcher after light to become a member of the society of secret "chemical improvers of natural philosophy," with which i affiliated as soon as the key was discovered. then followed a systematic investigation of authorities of the alchemical school, including geber, morienus, roger bacon, george ripley, raymond lully, bernard, count of trevise, isaac hollandus, arnoldus de la villanova, paracelsus, and others, not omitting the learned researches of the distinguished scientist, llewellyn. [illustration: fac-simile of page of manuscript.] i discovered that many talented men are still firm believers in the lost art of alchemy, and that among the followers of the "thrice-famed hermes" are to be found statesmen, clergymen, lawyers, and scientific men who, for various reasons, invariably conceal with great tact their connection with the fraternity of adepts. some of these men had written scientific treatises of a very different character from those circulating among the members of our brotherhood, and to their materialistic readers it would seem scarcely possible that the authors could be tainted with hallucinations of any description, while others, conspicuous leaders in the church, were seemingly beyond occult temptation. the larger number, it was evident, hoped by studies of the works of the alchemists, to find the key to the alkahest of van helmont, that is, to discover the philosopher's stone, or the elixir of life, and from their writings it is plain that the inner consciousness of thoughtful and scientific men rebelled against confinement to the narrow bounds of materialistic science, within which they were forced to appear as dogmatic pessimists. to them scientific orthodoxy, acting as a weight, prohibited intellectual speculation, as rank heresy. a few of my co-laborers were expert manipulators, and worked experimentally, following in their laboratories the suggestions of those gifted students who had pored over precious old manuscripts, and had attempted to solve the enigmatical formulas recorded therein, puzzles familiar to students of hermetic lore. it was thus demonstrated,--for what i have related is history,--that in this nineteenth century there exists a fraternity, the members of which are as earnest in their belief in the truth of esoteric philosophy, as were the followers of hermes himself; savants who, in secret, circulate among themselves a literature that the materialism of this selfsame nineteenth century has relegated to the deluded and murky periods that produced it. one day a postal package came to my address, this being the manner in which some of our literature circulated, which, on examination, i found to be a letter of instruction and advice from some unknown member of our circle. i was already becoming disheartened over the mental confusion into which my studies were leading me, and the contents of the letter, in which i was greatly interested, made a lasting impression upon me. it seemed to have been circulating a long time among our members in europe and america, for it bore numerous marginal notes of various dates, but each and every one of its readers had for one reason or another declined the task therein suggested. from the substance of the paper, which, written exquisitely, yet partook of the ambiguous alchemistic style, it was evident that the author was well versed in alchemy, and, in order that my position may be clearly understood at this turning point in a life of remarkable adventure, the letter is appended in full: the alchemistic letter. to the brother adept who dares try to discover zoroaster's cave, or the philosopher's intellectual echoes, by means of which they communicate to one another from their caves. know thou, that hermes trismegistus did not originate, but he gave to our philosophy his name--the hermetic art. evolved in a dim, mystic age, before antiquity began, it endured through the slowly rolling cycles to be bandied about by the ever-ready flippancy of nineteenth century students. it has lived, because it is endowed with that quality which never dies--truth. modern philosophy, of which chemistry is but a fragment, draws its sustenance from the prime facts which were revealed in ancient egypt through hermetic thought, and fixed by the hermetic stylus. "the hermetic allegories," so various in interpretable susceptibility, led subsequent thinkers into speculations and experimentations, which have resulted profitably to the world. it is not strange that some of the followers of hermes, especially the more mercurial and imaginative, should have evolved nebulous theories, no longer explainable, and involving recondite spiritual considerations. know thou that the ultimate on psycho-chemical investigation is the proximate of the infinite. accordingly, a class came to believe that a projection of natural mental faculties into an advanced state of consciousness called the "wisdom faculty" constitutes the final possibility of alchemy. the attainment of this exalted condition is still believed practicable by many earnest savants. once on this lofty plane, the individual would not be trammelled by material obstacles, but would abide in that spiritual placidity which is the exquisite realization of mortal perfection. so exalted, he would be in naked parallelism with omniscience, and through his illuminated understanding, could feast his soul on those exalted pleasures which are only less than deific. notwithstanding the exploitings of a number of these philosophers, in which, by reason of our inability to comprehend, sense seemed lost in a passage of incohesive dreamery and resonancy of terminology, some of the purest spiritual researches the world has ever known, were made in the dawn of history. the much abused alchemical philosophers existed upon a plane, in some respects above the level of the science of to-day. many of them lived for the good of the world only, in an atmosphere above the materialistic hordes that people the world, and toiling over their crucibles and alembics, died in their cells "uttering no voice." take, for example, eirenæus philalethes, who, born in , lived contemporaneously with robert boyle. a fragment from his writings will illustrate the purpose which impelled the searcher for the true light of alchemy to record his discoveries in allegories, and we have no right to question the honesty of his utterances: "the searcher of all hearts knows that i write the truth; nor is there any cause to accuse me of envy. i write with an unterrified quill in an unheard of style, to the honor of god, to the profit of my neighbors, with contempt of the world and its riches, because elias, the artist, is already born, and now glorious things are declared of the city of god. i dare affirm that i do possess more riches than the whole known world is worth, but i can not make use of it because of the snares of knaves. i disdain, loathe, and detest the idolizing of silver and gold, by which the pomps and vanities of the world are celebrated. ah! filthy evil! ah! vain nothingness! believe ye that i conceal the art out of envy? no, verily, i protest to you; i grieve from the very bottom of my soul that we (alchemists) are driven like vagabonds from the face of the lord throughout the earth. but what need of many words? the thing that we have seen, taught, and made, which we have, possess, and know, that we do declare; being moved with compassion for the studious, and with indignation of gold, silver, and precious stones. believe me, the time is at the door, i feel it in spirit, when we, adeptists, shall return from the four corners of the earth, nor shall we fear any snares that are laid against our lives, but we shall give thanks to the lord our god. i would to god that every ingenious man in the whole earth understood this science; then it would be valued only for its wisdom, and virtue only would be had in honor." of course there was a more worldly class, and a large contingent of mercenary impostors (as science is always encumbered), parasites, whose animus was shamefully unlike the purity of true esoteric psychologists. these men devoted their lives to experimentation for selfish advancement. they constructed alchemical outfits, and carried on a ceaseless inquiry into the nature of solvents, and studied their influences on earthly bodies, their ultimate object being the discovery of the philosopher's stone, and the alkahest which boerhaave asserts was never discovered. their records were often a verbose melange, purposely so written, no doubt, to cover their tracks, and to make themselves conspicuous. other hermetic believers occupied a more elevated position, and connected the intellectual with the material, hoping to gain by their philosophy and science not only gold and silver, which were secondary considerations, but the highest literary achievement, the magnum opus. others still sought to draw from astrology and magic the secrets that would lead them to their ambitious goal. thus there were degrees of fineness in a fraternity, which the science of to-day must recognize and admit. boerhaave, the illustrious, respected geber, of the alchemistic school, and none need feel compromised in admiring the talented alchemists who, like geber, wrought in the twilight of morn for the coming world's good. we are now enjoying a fragment of the ultimate results of their genius and industry in the materialistic outcomes of present-day chemistry, to be followed by others more valuable; and at last, when mankind is ripe in the wisdom faculty, by spiritual contentment in the complacent furtherings beyond. allow me briefly to refer to a few men of the alchemistic type whose records may be considered with advantage. rhasis, a conspicuous alchemist, born in , first mentioned orpiment, borax, compounds of iron, copper, arsenic, and other similar substances. it is said, too, that he discovered the art of making brandy. about a century later, alfarabe (killed in ), a great alchemist, astonished the king of syria with his profound learning, and excited the admiration of the wise men of the east by his varied accomplishments. later, albertus magnus (born ), noted for his talent and skill, believed firmly in the doctrine of transmutation. his beloved pupil, thomas aquinas, gave us the word amalgam, and it still serves us. contemporaneously with these lived roger bacon (born ), who was a man of most extraordinary ability. there has never been a greater english intellect (not excepting his illustrious namesake, lord bacon), and his penetrating mind delved deeper into nature's laws than that of any successor. he told us of facts concerning the sciences, that scientific men can not fully comprehend to-day; he told us of other things that lie beyond the science provings of to-day, that modern philosophers can not grasp. he was an enthusiastic believer in the hermetic philosophy, and such were his erudition and advanced views, that his brother friars, through jealousy and superstition, had him thrown into prison--a common fate to men who in those days dared to think ahead of their age. despite (as some would say) of his mighty reasoning power and splendid attainments, he believed the philosopher's stone to be a reality; he believed the secret of indefinite prolongation of life abode in alchemy; that the future could be predicted by means of a mirror which he called almuchese, and that by alchemy an adept could produce pure gold. he asserted that by means of aristotle's "secret of secrets," pure gold can be made; gold even purer and finer than what men now know as gold. in connection with other predictions he made an assertion that may with other seemingly unreasonable predictions be verified in time to come. he said: "it is equally possible to construct cars which may be set in motion with marvelous rapidity, independently of horses or other animals." he declared that the ancients had done this, and he believed the art might be revived. following came various enthusiasts, such as raymond, the ephemeral (died ), who flared like a meteor into his brief, brilliant career; arnold de villanova ( ), a celebrated adept, whose books were burned by the inquisition on account of the heresy they taught; nicholas flamel, of france ( ), loved by the people for his charities, the wonder of his age (our age will not admit the facts) on account of the vast fortune he amassed without visible means or income, outside of alchemical lore; johannes de rupecissus, a man of such remarkable daring that he even ( ) reprimanded pope innocent vi., for which he was promptly imprisoned; basil valentine ( ), the author of many works, and the man who introduced antimony (antimonaches) into medicine; isaac of holland who, with his son, skillfully made artificial gems that could not be distinguished from the natural; bernard trevison (born ), who spent $ , in the study of alchemy, out of much of which he was cheated by cruel alchemic pretenders, for even in that day there were plenty of rogues to counterfeit a good thing. under stress of his strong alchemic convictions, thomas dalton placed his head on the block by order of the virtuous (?) and conservative thomas herbert, 'squire to king edward; jacob bohme (born ), the sweet, pure spirit of christian mysticism, "the voice of heaven," than whom none stood higher in true alchemy, was a christian, alchemist, theosophist; robert boyle, a conspicuous alchemical philosopher, in published his "defense of the doctrine touching the spring and weight of the air," and illustrated his arguments by a series of ingenious and beautiful experiments, that stand to-day so high in the estimation of scientific men, that his remarks are copied verbatim by our highest authorities, and his apparatus is the best yet devised for the purpose. boyle's "law" was evolved and carefully defined fourteen years before mariotte's "discours de la nature de l'air" appeared, which did not, however, prevent french and german scientific men from giving the credit to mariotte, and they still follow the false teacher who boldly pirated not only boyle's ideas, but stole his apparatus. then appeared such men as paracelsus (born ), the celebrated physician, who taught that occultism (esoteric philosophy) was superior to experimental chemistry in enlightening us concerning the transmutation of baser metals into gold and silver; and gueppo francisco (born ), who wrote a beautiful treatise on "elementary spirits," which was copied without credit by compte de gabalis. it seems incredible that the man (gueppo francisco), whose sweet spirit-thoughts are revivified and breathe anew in "undine" and "the rape of the lock," should have been thrown into a prison to perish as a hermetic follower; and this should teach us not to question the earnestness of those who left us as a legacy the beauty and truth so abundantly found in pure alchemy. these and many others, cotemporaries, some conspicuous, and others whose names do not shine in written history, contributed incalculably to the grand aggregate of knowledge concerning the divine secret which enriched the world. compare the benefits of hermetic philosophy with the result of bloody wars ambitiously waged by self-exacting tyrants--tyrants whom history applauds as heroes, but whom we consider as butchers. among the workers in alchemy are enumerated nobles, kings, and even popes. pope john xxii. was an alchemist, which accounts for his bull against impostors, promulgated in order that true students might not be discredited; and king frederick of naples sanctioned the art, and protected its devotees. at last, count cagliostro, the chequered "joseph balsamo" (born ), who combined alchemy, magic, astrology, sleight of hand, mesmerism, free masonry, and remarkable personal accomplishments, that altogether have never since been equalled, burst upon the world. focusing the gaze of the church, kings, and the commons upon himself, in many respects the most audacious pretender that history records, he raised the hermetic art to a dazzling height, and finally buried it in a blaze of splendor as he passed from existence beneath a mantle of shame. as a meteor streams into view from out the star mists of space, and in corruscating glory sinks into the sea, cagliostro blazed into the sky of the eighteenth century, from the nebulæ of alchemistic speculation, and extinguished both himself and his science in the light of the rising sun of materialism. cagliostro the visionary, the poet, the inspired, the erratic comet in the universe of intellect, perished in prison as a mountebank, and then the plodding chemist of to-day, with his tedious mechanical methods, and cold, unresponsive, materialistic dogmas, arose from the ashes, and sprang into prominence. read the story backward, and you shall see that in alchemy we behold the beginning of all the sciences of to-day; alchemy is the cradle that rocked them. fostered with necromancy, astrology, occultism, and all the progeny of mystic dreamery, the infant sciences struggled for existence through the dark ages, in care of the once persecuted and now traduced alchemist. the world owes a monument to-day more to hermetic heroes, than to all other influences and instrumentalities, religion excepted, combined, for our present civilization is largely a legacy from the alchemist. begin with hermes trismegistus, and close with joseph balsamo, and if you are inclined towards science, do not criticise too severely their verbal logorrhea, and their romanticism, for your science is treading backward; it will encroach upon their field again, and you may have to unsay your words of hasty censure. these men fulfilled their mission, and did it well. if they told more than men now think they knew, they also knew more than they told, and more than modern philosophy embraces. they could not live to see all the future they eagerly hoped for, but they started a future for mankind that will far exceed in sweetness and light the most entrancing visions of their most imaginative dreamers. they spoke of the existence of a "red elixir," and while they wrote, the barbarous world about them ran red with blood,--blood of the pure in heart, blood of the saints, blood of a saviour; and their allegory and wisdom formulæ were recorded in blood of their own sacrifices. they dreamed of a "white elixir" that is yet to bless mankind, and a brighter day for man, a period of peace, happiness, long life, contentment, good will and brotherly love, and in the name of this "white elixir" they directed the world towards a vision of divine light. even pure gold, as they told the materialistic world who worship gold, was penetrated and whelmed by this subtle, superlatively refined spirit of matter. is not the day of the allegorical "white elixir" nearly at hand? would that it were! i say to you now, brothers of the eighteenth century, as one speaking by authority to you, cease (some of you) to study this entrancing past, look to the future by grasping the present, cast aside (some of you) the alchemical lore of other days, give up your loved allegories; it is a duty, you must relinquish them. there is a richer field. do not delay. unlock this mystic door that stands hinged and ready, waiting the touch of men who can interpret the talisman; place before mankind the knowledge that lies behind its rivets. in the secret lodges that have preserved the wisdom of the days of enoch and elias of egypt, who propagated the egyptian order, a branch of your ancient brotherhood, is to be found concealed much knowledge that should now be spread before the world, and added to the treasures of our circle of adepts. this cabalistic wisdom is not recorded in books nor in manuscript, but has been purposely preserved from the uninitiated, in the unreadable brains of unresponsive men. those who are selected to act as carriers thereof, are, as a rule, like dumb water bearers, or the dead sheet of paper that mechanically preserves an inspiration derived from minds unseen: they serve a purpose as a child mechanically commits to memory a blank verse to repeat to others, who in turn commit to repeat again--neither of them speaking understandingly. search ye these hidden paths, for the day of mental liberation approaches, and publish to the world all that is locked within the doors of that antiquated organization. the world is nearly ripe for the wisdom faculty, and men are ready to unravel the golden threads that mystic wisdom has inwoven in her web of secret knowledge. look for knowledge where i have indicated, and to gain it do not hesitate to swear allegiance to this sacred order, for so you must do to gain entrance to the brotherhood, and then you must act what men will call the traitor. you will, however, be doing a sacred duty, for the world will profit, humanity will be the gainer, "peace on earth, good will to man," will be closer to mankind, and at last, when the sign appears, the "white elixir" will no longer be allegorical; it will become a reality. in the name of the great mystic vase-man, go thou into these lodges, learn of their secrets, and spread their treasures before those who can interpret them. here this letter ended. it was evident that the writer referred to a secret society into which i could probably enter; and taking the advice, i did not hesitate, but applied at once for membership. i determined, regardless of consequence, to follow the suggestion of the unknown writer, and by so doing, for i accepted their pledges, i invited my destiny. my guest of the massive forehead paused for a moment, stroked his long, white beard, and then, after casting an inquiring glance on me, asked, "shall i read on?" "yes," i replied, and the--man--who--did--it, proceeded as follows: chapter v. the writing of my confession. having become a member of the secret society as directed by the writer of the letter i have just read, and having obtained the secrets hinted at in the mystic directions, my next desire was to find a secluded spot where, without interruption, i could prepare for publication what i had gathered surreptitiously in the lodges of the fraternity i designed to betray. this i entitled "my confession." alas! why did my evil genius prompt me to write it? why did not some kind angel withhold my hand from the rash and wicked deed? all i can urge in defense or palliation is that i was infatuated by the fatal words of the letter, "you must act what men will call the traitor, but humanity will be the gainer." in a section of the state in which i resided, a certain creek forms the boundary line between two townships, and also between two counties. crossing this creek, a much traveled road stretches east and west, uniting the extremes of the great state. two villages on this road, about four miles apart, situated on opposite sides of the creek, also present themselves to my memory, and midway between them, on the north side of the road, was a substantial farm house. in going west from the easternmost of these villages, the traveler begins to descend from the very center of the town. in no place is the grade steep, as the road lies between the spurs of the hill abutting upon the valley that feeds the creek i have mentioned. having reached the valley, the road winds a short distance to the right, then turning to the left, crosses the stream, and immediately begins to climb the western hill; here the ascent is more difficult, for the road lies diagonally over the edge of the hill. a mile of travel, as i recall the scene, sometimes up a steep, and again among rich, level farm lands, and then on the very height, close to the road, within a few feet of it, appears the square structure which was, at the time i mention, known as the stone tavern. on the opposite side of the road were located extensive stables, and a grain barn. in the northeast chamber of that stone building, during a summer in the twenties, i wrote for publication the description of the mystic work that my oath should have made forever a secret, a sacred trust. i am the man who wantonly committed the deplorable act. under the infatuation of that alchemical manuscript, i strove to show the world that i could and would do that which might never benefit me in the least, but might serve humanity. it was fate. i was not a bad man, neither malignity, avarice, nor ambition forming a part of my nature. i was a close student, of a rather retiring disposition, a stone-mason by trade, careless and indifferent to public honors, and so thriftless that many trifling neighborhood debts had accumulated against me. what i have reluctantly told, for i am forbidden to give the names of the localities, comprises an abstract of part of the record of my early life, and will introduce the extraordinary narrative which follows. that i have spoken the truth, and in no manner overdrawn, will be silently evidenced by hundreds of brethren, both of the occult society and the fraternal brotherhood, with which i united, who can (if they will) testify to the accuracy of the narrative. they know the story of my crime and disgrace; only myself and god know the full retribution that followed. chapter vi. kidnapped. the events just narrated occurred in the prime of my life, and are partly matters of publicity. my attempted breach of faith in the way of disclosing their secrets was naturally infamous in the eyes of my society brethren, who endeavored to prevail upon me to relent of my design which, after writing my "confession," i made no endeavor to conceal. their importunities and threatenings had generally been resisted, however, and with an obliquity that can not be easily explained, i persisted in my unreasonable design. i was blessed as a husband and father, but neither the thought of home, wife, nor child, checked me in my inexplicable course. i was certainly irresponsible, perhaps a monomaniac, and yet on the subject in which i was absorbed, i preserved my mental equipoise, and knowingly followed a course that finally brought me into the deepest slough of trouble, and lost to me forever all that man loves most dearly. an overruling spirit, perhaps the shade of one of the old alchemists, possessed me, and in the face of obstacles that would have caused most men to reflect, and retrace their steps, i madly rushed onward. the influence that impelled me, whatever it may have been, was irresistible. i apparently acted the part of agent, subject to an ever-present master essence, and under this dominating spirit or demon my mind was powerless in its subjection. my soul was driven imperiously by that impelling and indescribable something, and was as passive and irresponsible as lycopodium that is borne onward in a steady current of air. methods were vainly sought by those who loved me, brethren of the lodge, and others who endeavored to induce me to change my headstrong purpose, but i could neither accept their counsels nor heed their forebodings. summons by law were served on me in order to disconcert me, and my numerous small debts became the pretext for legal warrants, until at last all my papers (excepting my "confession"), and my person also, were seized, upon an execution served by a constable. minor claims were quickly satisfied, but when i regained my liberty, the aggression continued. even arson was resorted to, and the printing office that held my manuscript was fired one night, that the obnoxious revelation which i persisted in putting into print, might be destroyed. finally i found myself separated by process of law from home and friends, an inmate of a jail. my opponents, as i now came to consider them, had confined me in prison for a debt of only two dollars, a sufficient amount at that time, in that state, for my incarceration. smarting under the humiliation, my spirit became still more rebellious, and i now, perhaps justly, came to view myself as a martyr. it had been at first asserted that i had stolen a shirt, but i was not afraid of any penalty that could be laid on me for this trumped-up charge, believing that the imputation and the arrest would be shown to be designed as willful oppression. therefore it was, that when this contemptible arraignment had been swept aside, and i was freed before a justice of the peace, i experienced more than a little surprise at a rearrest, and at finding myself again thrown into jail. i knew that it had been decreed by my brethren that i must retract and destroy my "confession," and this fact made me the more determined to prevent its destruction, and i persisted sullenly in pursuing my course. on the evening of august th, , my jailer's wife informed me that the debt for which i had been incarcerated had been paid by unknown "friends," and that i could depart; and i accepted the statement without question. upon my stepping from the door of the jail, however, my arms were firmly grasped by two persons, one on each side of me, and before i could realize the fact that i was being kidnapped, i was thrust into a closed coach, which immediately rolled away, but not until i made an outcry which, if heard by anyone, was unheeded. "for your own sake, be quiet," said one of my companions in confinement, for the carriage was draped to exclude the light, and was as dark as a dungeon. my spirit rebelled; i felt that i was on the brink of a remarkable, perhaps perilous experience, and i indignantly replied by asking: "what have i done that you should presume forcibly to imprison me? am i not a freeman of america?" "what have you done?" he answered. "have you not bound yourself by a series of vows that are sacred and should be inviolable, and have you not broken them as no other man has done before you? have you not betrayed your trust, and merited a severe judgment? did you not voluntarily ask admission into our ancient brotherhood, and in good faith were you not initiated into our sacred mysteries? did you not obligate yourself before man, and on your sacred honor promise to preserve our secrets?" "i did," i replied; "but previously i had sworn before a higher tribunal to scatter this precious wisdom to the world." "yes," he said, "and you know full well the depth of the self-sought solemn oath that you took with us--more solemn than that prescribed by any open court on earth." "this i do not deny," i said, "and yet i am glad that i accomplished my object, even though you have now, as is evident, the power to pronounce my sentence." "you should look for the death sentence," was the reply, "but it has been ordained instead that you are to be given a lengthened life. you should expect bodily destruction; but on the contrary, you will pass on in consciousness of earth and earthly concerns when we are gone. your name will be known to all lands, and yet from this time you will be unknown. for the welfare of future humanity, you will be thrust to a height in our order that will annihilate you as a mortal being, and yet you will exist, suspended between life and death, and in that intermediate state will know that you exist. you have, as you confess, merited a severe punishment, but we can only punish in accordance with an unwritten law, that instructs the person punished, and elevates the human race in consequence. you stand alone among mortals in that you have openly attempted to give broadly to those who have not earned it, our most sacred property, a property that did not belong to you, property that you have only been permitted to handle, that has been handed from man to man from before the time of solomon, and which belongs to no one man, and will continue to pass in this way from one to another, as a hallowed trust, until there are no men, as men now exist, to receive it. you will soon go into the shadows of darkness, and will learn many of the mysteries of life, the undeveloped mysteries that are withheld from your fellows, but which you, who have been so presumptuous and anxious for knowledge, are destined to possess and solve. you will find secrets that man, as man is now constituted, can not yet discover, and yet which the future man must gain and be instructed in. as you have sowed, so shall you reap. you wished to become a distributor of knowledge; you shall now by bodily trial and mental suffering obtain unsought knowledge to distribute, and in time to come you will be commanded to make your discoveries known. as your pathway is surely laid out, so must you walk. it is ordained; to rebel is useless." "who has pronounced this sentence?" i asked. "a judge, neither of heaven nor of earth." "you speak in enigmas." "no; i speak openly, and the truth. our brotherhood is linked with the past, and clasps hands with the antediluvians; the flood scattered the races of earth, but did not disturb our secrets. the great love of wisdom has from generation to generation led selected members of our organization to depths of study that our open work does not touch upon, and behind our highest officers there stand, in the occult shades between the here and the hereafter, unknown and unseen agents who are initiated into secrets above and beyond those known to the ordinary craft. those who are introduced into these inner recesses acquire superhuman conceptions, and do not give an open sign of fellowship; they need no talisman. they walk our streets possessed of powers unknown to men, they concern themselves as mortals in the affairs of men, and even their brethren of the initiated, open order are unaware of their exalted condition. the means by which they have been instructed, their several individualities as well, have been concealed, because publicity would destroy their value, and injure humanity's cause." silence followed these vague disclosures, and the carriage rolled on. i was mystified and alarmed, and yet i knew that, whatever might be the end of this nocturnal ride, i had invited it--yes, merited it--and i steeled myself to hear the sentence of my judges, in whose hands i was powerless. the persons on the seat opposite me continued their conversation in low tones, audible only to themselves. an individual by my side neither moved nor spoke. there were four of us in the carriage, as i learned intuitively, although we were surrounded by utter darkness. at length i addressed the companion beside me, for the silence was unbearable. friend or enemy though he might be, anything rather than this long silence. "how long shall we continue in this carriage?" he made no reply. after a time i again spoke. "can you not tell me, comrade, how long our journey will last? when shall we reach our destination?" silence only. putting out my hand, i ventured to touch my mate, and found that he was tightly strapped,--bound upright to the seat and the back of the carriage. leather thongs held him firmly in position; and as i pondered over the mystery, i thought to myself, if i make a disturbance, they will not hesitate to manacle me as securely. my custodians seemed, however, not to exercise a guard over me, and yet i felt that they were certain of my inability to escape. if the man on the seat was a prisoner, why was he so reticent? why did he not answer my questions? i came to the conclusion that he must be gagged as well as bound. then i determined to find out if this were so. i began to realize more forcibly that a terrible sentence must have been meted me, and i half hoped that i could get from my partner in captivity some information regarding our destination. sliding my hand cautiously along his chest, and under his chin, i intended to remove the gag from his mouth, when i felt my flesh creep, for it came in contact with the cold, rigid flesh of a corpse. the man was dead, and stiff. the shock unnerved me. i had begun to experience the results of a severe mental strain, partly induced by the recent imprisonment and extended previous persecution, and partly by the mysterious significance of the language in which i had recently been addressed. the sentence, "you will now go into the valley of the shadow of death, and learn the mysteries of life," kept ringing through my head, and even then i sat beside a corpse. after this discovery i remained for a time in a semi-stupor, in a state of profound dejection,--how long i can not say. then i experienced an inexplicable change, such as i imagine comes over a condemned man without hope of reprieve, and i became unconcerned as a man might who had accepted his destiny, and stoically determined to await it. perhaps moments passed, it may have been hours, and then indifference gave place to reviving curiosity. i realized that i could die only once, and i coolly and complacently revolved the matter, speculating over my possible fate. as i look back on the night in which i rode beside that dead man, facing the mysterious agents of an all-powerful judge, i marvel over a mental condition that permitted me finally to rest in peace, and slumber in unconcern. so i did, however, and after a period, the length of which i am not able to estimate, i awoke, and soon thereafter the carriage stopped, and our horses were changed, after which our journey was resumed, to continue hour after hour, and at last i slept again, leaning back in the corner. suddenly i was violently shaken from slumber, and commanded to alight. it was in the gray of morning, and before i could realize what was happening, i was transferred by my captors to another carriage, and the dead man also was rudely hustled along and thrust beside me, my companions speaking to him as though he were alive. indeed, as i look back on these maneuvers, i perceive that, to all appearances, i was one of the abducting party, and our actions were really such as to induce an observer to believe that this dead man was an obstinate prisoner, and myself one of his official guards. the drivers of the carriages seemed to give us no attention, but they sat upright and unconcerned, and certainly neither of them interested himself in our transfer. the second carriage, like that other previously described, was securely closed, and our journey was continued. the darkness was as of a dungeon. it may have been days, i could not tell anything about the passage of time; on and on we rode. occasionally food and drink were handed in, but my captors held to their course, and at last i was taken from the vehicle, and transferred to a block-house. i had been carried rapidly and in secret a hundred or more miles, perhaps into another state, and probably all traces of my journey were effectually lost to outsiders. i was in the hands of men who implicitly obeyed the orders of their superiors, masters whom they had never seen, and probably did not know. i needed no reminder of the fact that i had violated every sacred pledge voluntarily made to the craft, and now that they held me powerless, i well knew that, whatever the punishment assigned, i had invited it, and could not prevent its fulfillment. that it would be severe, i realized; that it would not be in accordance with ordinary human law, i accepted. [illustration: "i was taken from the vehicle, and transferred to a block-house."] had i not in secret, in my little room in that obscure stone tavern, engrossed on paper the mystic sentences that never before had been penned, and were unknown excepting to persons initiated into our sacred mysteries? had i not previously, in the most solemn manner, before these words had been imparted to my keeping, sworn to keep them inviolate and secret? and had i not deliberately broken that sacred vow, and scattered the hoarded sentences broadcast? my part as a brother in this fraternal organization was that of the holder only of property that belonged to no man, that had been handed from one to another through the ages, sacredly cherished, and faithfully protected by men of many tongues, always considered a trust, a charge of honor, and never before betrayed. my crime was deep and dark. i shuddered. "come what may," i mused, reflecting over my perfidy, "i am ready for the penalty, and my fate is deserved; it can not but be a righteous one." the words of the occupant of the carriage occurred to me again and again; that one sentence kept ringing in my brain; i could not dismiss it: "you have been tried, convicted, and we are of those appointed to carry out the sentence of the judges." the black silence of my lonely cell beat against me; i could feel the absence of sound, i could feel the dismal weight of nothingness, and in my solitude and distraction i cried out in anguish to the invisible judge: "i am ready for my sentence, whether it be death or imprisonment for life"; and still the further words of the occupant of the carriage passed through my mind: "you will now go into the valley of the shadow of death, and will learn the mysteries of life." then i slept, to awake and sleep again. i kept no note of time; it may have been days or weeks, so far as my record could determine. an attendant came at intervals to minister to my wants, always masked completely, ever silent. that i was not entirely separated from mankind, however, i felt assured, for occasionally sounds of voices came to me from without. once i ventured to shout aloud, hoping to attract attention; but the persons whom i felt assured overheard me, paid no attention to my lonely cry. at last one night, my door opened abruptly, and three men entered. "do not fear," said their spokesman, "we aim to protect you; keep still, and soon you will be a free man." i consented quietly to accompany them, for to refuse would have been in vain; and i was conducted to a boat, which i found contained a corpse--the one i had journeyed with, i suppose--and embarking, we were silently rowed to the middle of the river, our course being diagonally from the shore, and the dead man was thrown overboard. then our boat returned to the desolate bank. thrusting me into a carriage, that, on our return to the river bank we found awaiting us, my captors gave a signal, and i was driven away in the darkness, as silently as before, and our journey was continued i believe for fully two days. i was again confined in another log cabin, with but one door, and destitute of windows. my attendants were masked, they neither spoke to me as they day after day supplied my wants, nor did they give me the least information on any subject, until at last i abandoned all hope of ever regaining my liberty. [illustration: "the dead man was thrown overboard."] chapter vii. a wild night.--i am prematurely aged. in the depths of night i was awakened by a noise made by the opening of a door, and one by one seven masked figures silently stalked into my prison. each bore a lighted torch, and they passed me as i lay on the floor in my clothes (for i had no bedding), and ranged themselves in a line. i arose, and seated myself as directed to do, upon the only stool in the room. swinging into a semi-circle, the weird line wound about me, and from the one seat on which i rested in the center of the room, i gazed successively upon seven pairs of gleaming eyes, each pair directed at myself; and as i turned from one to another, the black cowl of each deepened into darkness, and grew more hideous. "men or devils," i cried, "do your worst! make me, if such is your will, as that sunken corpse beside which i was once seated; but cease your persecutions. i have atoned for my indiscretions a thousand fold, and this suspense is unbearable; i demand to know what is to be my doom, and i desire its fulfilment." then one stepped forward, facing me squarely,--the others closed together around him and me. raising his forefinger, he pointed it close to my face, and as his sharp eyes glittered from behind the black mask, piercing through me, he slowly said: "why do you not say brothers?" "horrible," i rejoined; "stop this mockery. have i not suffered enough from your persecutions to make me reject that word as applied to yourselves? you can but murder; do your duty to your unseen masters, and end this prolonged torture!" "brother," said the spokesman, "you well know that the sacred rules of our order will not permit us to murder any human being. we exist to benefit humanity, to lead the wayward back across the burning desert into the pathways of the righteous; not to destroy or persecute a brother. ours is an eleemosynary institution, instructing its members, helping them to seek happiness. you are now expiating the crime you have committed, and the good in your spirit rightfully revolts against the bad, for in divulging to the world our mystic signs and brotherly greetings, you have sinned against yourself more than against others. the sting of conscience, the bitings of remorse punish you." "true," i cried, as the full significance of what he said burst upon me, "too true; but i bitterly repent my treachery. others can never know how my soul is harrowed by the recollection of the enormity of that breach of confidence. in spite of my open, careless, or defiant bearing, my heart is humble, and my spirit cries out for mercy. by night and by day i have in secret cursed myself for heeding an unhallowed mandate, and i have long looked forward to the judgment that i should suffer for my perfidy, for i have appreciated that the day of reckoning would surely appear. i do not rebel, and i recall my wild language; i recant my 'confession,' i renounce myself! i say to you in all sincerity, brothers, do your duty, only i beg of you to slay me at once, and end my suspense. i await my doom. what might it be?" grasping my hand, the leader said: "you are ready as a member of our order; we can now judge you as we have been commanded; had you persisted in calling us devils in your mistaken frenzy, we should have been forced to reason with you until you returned again to us, and became one of us. our judgment is for you only; the world must not now know its nature, at least so far as we are concerned. those you see here, are not your judges; we are agents sent to labor with you, to draw you back into our ranks, to bring you into a condition that will enable you to carry out the sentence that you have drawn upon yourself, for you must be your own doomsman. in the first place, we are directed to gain your voluntary consent to leave this locality. you can no longer take part in affairs that interested you before. to the people of this state, and to your home, and kindred, you must become a stranger for all time. do you consent?" "yes," i answered, for i knew that i must acquiesce. "in the next place, you must help us to remove all traces of your identity. you must, so far as the world is concerned, leave your body where you have apparently been drowned, for a world's benefit, a harmless mockery to deceive the people, and also to make an example for others that are weak. are you ready?" "yes." "then remove your clothing, and replace it with this suit." i obeyed, and changed my garments, receiving others in return. one of the party then, taking from beneath his gown a box containing several bottles of liquids, proceeded artfully to mix and compound them, and then to paint my face with the combination, which after being mixed, formed a clear solution. "do not fear to wash;" said the spokesman, "the effect of this lotion is permanent enough to stay until you are well out of this state." i passed my hand over my face; it was drawn into wrinkles as a film of gelatine might have been shrivelled under the influence of a strong tannin or astringent liquid; beneath my fingers it felt like the furrowed face of a very old man, but i experienced no pain. i vainly tried to smooth the wrinkles; immediately upon removing the pressure of my hand, the furrows reappeared. next, another applied a colorless liquid freely to my hair and beard; he rubbed it well, and afterward wiped it dry with a towel. a mirror was thrust beneath my gaze. i started back, the transformation was complete. my appearance had entirely changed. my face had become aged and wrinkled, my hair as white as snow. i cried aloud in amazement: "am i sane, is this a dream?" "it is not a dream; but, under methods that are in exact accordance with natural physiological laws, we have been enabled to transform your appearance from that of one in the prime of manhood into the semblance of an old man, and that, too, without impairment of your vitality." another of the masked men opened a curious little casket that i perceived was surmounted by an alembic and other alchemical figures, and embossed with an oriental design. he drew from it a lamp which he lighted with a taper; the flame that resulted, first pale blue, then yellow, next violet and finally red, seemed to become more weird and ghastly with each mutation, as i gazed spell-bound upon its fantastic changes. then, after these transformations, it burned steadily with the final strange blood-red hue, and he now held over the blaze a tiny cup, which, in a few moments, commenced to sputter and then smoked, exhaling a curious, epipolic, semi-luminous vapor. i was commanded to inhale the vapor. [illustration: "a mirror was thrust beneath my gaze."] i hesitated; the thought rushed upon me, "now i am another person, so cleverly disguised that even my own friends would perhaps not know me, this vapor is designed to suffocate me, and my body, if found, will not now be known, and could not be identified when discovered." "do not fear," said the spokesman, as if divining my thought, "there is no danger," and at once i realized, by quick reasoning, that if my death were demanded, my body might long since have been easily destroyed, and all this ceremony would have been unnecessary. i hesitated no longer, but drew into my lungs the vapor that arose from the mysterious cup, freely expanding my chest several times, and then asked, "is not that enough?" despair now overcame me. my voice, no longer the full, strong tone of a man in middle life and perfect strength, squeaked and quavered, as if impaired by palsy. i had seen my image in a mirror, an old man with wrinkled face and white hair; i now heard myself speak with the voice of an octogenarian. "what have you done?" i cried. "we have obeyed your orders; you told us you were ready to leave your own self here, and the work is complete. the man who entered has disappeared. if you should now stand in the streets of your village home, and cry to your former friends, 'it is i, for whom you seek,' they would smile, and call you a madman. know," continued the voice, "that there is in eastern metaphysical lore, more true philosophy than is embodied in the sciences of to-day, and that by means of the ramifications of our order it becomes possible, when necessary, for him who stands beyond the inner and upper worshipful master, to draw these treasures from the occult wisdom possessions of oriental sages who forget nothing and lose nothing. have we not been permitted to do his bidding well?" "yes," i squeaked; "and i wish that you had done it better. i would that i were dead." "when the time comes, if necessary, your dead body will be fished from the water," was the reply; "witnesses have seen the drowning tragedy, and will surely identify the corpse." "and may i go? am i free now?" i asked. "ah," said he, "that is not for us to say; our part of the work is fulfilled, and we can return to our native lands, and resume again our several studies. so far as we are concerned, you are free, but we have been directed to pass you over to the keeping of others who will carry forward this judgment--there is another step." "tell me," i cried, once more desponding, "tell me the full extent of my sentence." "that is not known to us, and probably is not known to any one man. so far as the members of our order are concerned, you have now vanished. when you leave our sight this night, we will also separate from one another, we shall know no more of you and your future than will those of our working order who live in this section of the country. we have no personal acquaintance with the guide that has been selected to conduct you farther, and who will appear in due season, and we make no surmise concerning the result of your journey, only we know that you will not be killed, for you have a work to perform, and will continue to exist long after others of your age are dead. farewell, brother; we have discharged our duty, and by your consent, now we must return to our various pursuits. in a short time all evidence of your unfortunate mistake, the crime committed by you in printing our sacred charges, will have vanished. even now, emissaries are ordained to collect and destroy the written record that tells of your weakness, and with the destruction of that testimony, for every copy will surely be annihilated, and with your disappearance from among men, for this also is to follow, our responsibility for you will cease." each of the seven men advanced, and grasped my hand, giving me the grip of brotherhood, and then, without a word, they severally and silently departed into the outer darkness. as the last man disappeared, a figure entered the door, clad and masked exactly like those who had gone. he removed the long black gown in which he was enveloped, threw the mask from his face and stood before me, a slender, graceful, bright-looking young man. by the light of the candle i saw him distinctly, and was at once struck by his amiable, cheerful countenance, and my heart bounded with a sudden hope. i had temporarily forgotten the transformation that had been made in my person, which, altogether painless, had left no physical sensation, and thought of myself as i had formerly existed; my soul was still my own, i imagined; my blood seemed unchanged, and must flow as rapidly as before; my strength was unaltered, indeed i was in self-consciousness still in the prime of life. "excuse me, father," said the stranger, "but my services have been sought as a guide for the first part of a journey that i am informed you intend to take." his voice was mild and pleasant, his bearing respectful, but the peculiar manner in which he spoke convinced me that he knew that, as a guide, he must conduct me to some previously designated spot, and that he purposed to do so was evident, with or without my consent. "why do you call me father?" i attempted to say, but as the first few words escaped my lips, the recollection of the events of the night rushed upon me, for instead of my own, i recognized the piping voice of the old man i had now become, and my tongue faltered; the sentence was unspoken. "you would ask me why i called you father, i perceive; well, because i am directed to be a son to you, to care for your wants, to make your journey as easy and pleasant as possible, to guide you quietly and carefully to the point that will next prove of interest to you." i stood before him a free man, in the prime of life, full of energy, and this stripling alone interposed between myself and liberty. should i permit the slender youth to carry me away as a prisoner? would it not be best to thrust him aside, if necessary, crush him to the earth? go forth in my freedom? yet i hesitated, for he might have friends outside; probably he was not alone. "there are no companions near us," said he, reading my mind, "and, as i do not seem formidable, it is natural you should weigh in your mind the probabilities of escape; but you can not evade your destiny, and you must not attempt to deny yourself the pleasure of my company. you must leave this locality and leave without a regret. in order that you may acquiesce willingly i propose that together we return to your former home, which you will, however, find no longer to be a home. i will accompany you as a companion, as your son. you may speak, with one exception, to whomever you care to address; may call on any of your old associates, may assert openly who you are, or whatever and whoever you please to represent yourself, only i must also have the privilege of joining in the conversation." "agreed," i cried, and extended my hand; he grasped it, and then by the light of the candle, i saw a peculiar expression flit over his face, as he added: "to one person only, as i have said, and you have promised, you must not speak--your wife." i bowed my head, and a flood of sorrowful reflections swept over me. of all the world the one whom i longed to meet, to clasp in my arms, to counsel in my distress, was the wife of my bosom, and i begged him to withdraw his cruel injunction. "you should have thought of her before; now it is too late. to permit you to meet, and speak with her would be dangerous; she might pierce your disguise. of all others there is no fear." "must i go with you into an unknown future without a farewell kiss from my little child or from my babe scarce three months old?" "it has been so ordained." i threw myself on the floor and moaned. "this is too hard, too hard for human heart to bear. life has no charm to a man who is thrust from all he holds most dear, home, friends, family." "the men who relinquish such pleasures and such comforts are those who do the greatest good to humanity," said the youth. "the multitude exist to propagate the race, as animal progenitors of the multitudes that are to follow, and the exceptional philanthropist is he who denies himself material bliss, and punishes himself in order to work out a problem such as it has been ordained that you are to solve. do not argue further--the line is marked, and you must walk direct." into the blaze of the old fireplace of that log house, for, although it was autumn, the night was chilly, he then cast his black robe and false face, and, as they turned to ashes, the last evidences of the vivid acts through which i had passed, were destroyed. as i lay moaning in my utter misery, i tried to reason with myself that what i experienced was all a hallucination. i dozed, and awoke startled, half conscious only, as one in a nightmare; i said to myself, "a dream! a dream!" and slept again. chapter viii. a lesson in mind study. the door of the cabin was open when i awoke, the sun shone brightly, and my friend, apparently happy and unconcerned, said: "father, we must soon start on our journey; i have taken advantage of your refreshing sleep, and have engaged breakfast at yonder farm-house; our meal awaits us." i arose, washed my wrinkled face, combed my white hair, and shuddered as i saw in a pocket mirror the reflection of my figure, an aged, apparently decrepit man. "do not be disturbed at your feeble condition," said my companion; "your infirmities are not real. few men have ever been permitted to drink of the richness of the revelations that await you; and in view of these expectations the fact that you are prematurely aged in appearance should not unnerve you. be of good heart, and when you say the word, we will start on our journey, which will begin as soon as you have said farewell to former friends and acquaintances." i made no reply, but silently accompanied him, for my thoughts were in the past, and my reflections were far from pleasant. we reached the farm-house, and as i observed the care and attention extended me by the pleasant-faced housewife, i realized that, in one respect at least, old age brought its compensation. after breakfast a man appeared from the farmer's barn, driving a team of horses attached to an open spring-wagon which, in obedience to the request of my guide, i entered, accompanied by my young friend, who directed that we be driven toward the village from which i had been abducted. he seemed to know my past life as i knew it; he asked me to select those of my friends to whom i first wished to bid farewell, even mentioning their names; he seemed all that a patient, faithful son could be, and i began to wonder at his audacity, even as much as i admired his self-confidence. as we journeyed onward we engaged in familiar talk. we sat together on the back seat of the open spring-wagon, in full sight of passers, no attempt being made to conceal my person. thus we traveled for two days, and on our course we passed through a large city with which i was acquainted, a city that my abductors had previously carried me through and beyond. i found that my "son" possessed fine conversational power, and a rich mine of information, and he became increasingly interesting as he drew from his fund of knowledge, and poured into my listening ears an entrancing strain of historical and metaphysical information. never at a loss for a word or an idea, he appeared to discern my cogitations, and as my mind wandered in this or that direction he fell into the channel of my fancies, and answered my unspoken thoughts, my mind-questions or meditations, as pertinently as though i had spoken them. his accomplishments, for the methods of his perception were unaccompanied by any endeavor to draw me into word expression, made me aware at least, that, in him, i had to deal with a man unquestionably possessed of more than ordinary intellect and education, and as this conviction entered my mind he changed his subject and promptly answered the silent inquiry, speaking as follows: "have you not sometimes felt that in yourself there may exist undeveloped senses that await an awakening touch to open to yourself a new world, senses that may be fully developed, but which saturate each other and neutralize themselves; quiescent, closed circles which you can not reach, satisfied circuits slumbering within your body and that defy your efforts to utilize them? in your dreams have you not seen sights that words are inadequate to describe, that your faculties can not retain in waking moments, and which dissolve into intangible nothingness, leaving only a vague, shadowy outline as the mind quickens, or rather when the senses that possess you in sleep relinquish the body to the returning vital functions and spirit? this unconscious conception of other planes, a beyond or betwixt, that is neither mental nor material, neither here nor located elsewhere, belongs to humanity in general, and is made evident from the unsatiable desire of men to pry into phenomena latent or recondite that offer no apparent return to humanity. this desire has given men the knowledge they now possess of the sciences; sciences yet in their infancy. study in this direction is, at present, altogether of the material plane, but in time to come, men will gain control of outlying senses which will enable them to step from the seen into the consideration of matter or force that is now subtle and evasive, which must be accomplished by means of the latent faculties that i have indicated. there will be an unconscious development of new mind-forces in the student of nature as the rudiments of these so-called sciences are elaborated. step by step, as the ages pass, the faculties of men will, under progressive series of evolutions, imperceptibly pass into higher phases until that which is even now possible with some individuals of the purified esoteric school, but which would seem miraculous if practiced openly at this day, will prove feasible to humanity generally and be found in exact accord with natural laws. the conversational method of men, whereby communion between human beings is carried on by disturbing the air by means of vocal organs so as to produce mechanical pulsations of that medium, is crude in the extreme. mind craves to meet mind, but can not yet thrust matter aside, and in order to communicate one with another, the impression one mind wishes to convey to another must be first made on the brain matter that accompanies it, which in turn influences the organs of speech, inducing a disturbance of the air by the motions of the vocal organs, which, by undulations that reach to another being, act on his ear, and secondarily on the earthly matter of his brain, and finally by this roundabout course, impress the second being's mind. in this transmission of motions there is great waste of energy and loss of time, but such methods are a necessity of the present slow, much-obstructed method of communication. there is, in cultivated man, an innate craving for something more facile, and often a partly developed conception, spectral and vague, appears, and the being feels that there may be for mortals a richer, brighter life, a higher earthly existence that science does not now indicate. such intimation of a deeper play of faculties is now most vivid with men during the perfect loss of mental self as experienced in dreams, which as yet man in the quick can not grasp, and which fade as he awakens. as mental sciences are developed, investigators will find that the medium known as air is unnecessary as a means of conveying mind conceptions from one person to another; that material sounds and word pulsations are cumbersome; that thought force unexpressed may be used to accomplish more than speech can do, and that physical exertions as exemplified in motion of matter such as i have described will be unnecessary for mental communication. as door after door in these directions shall open before men, mystery after mystery will be disclosed, and vanish as mysteries to reappear as simple facts. phenomena that are impossible and unrevealed to the scientist of to-day will be familiar to the coming multitude, and at last, as by degrees, clearer knowledge is evolved, the vocal language of men will disappear, and humanity, regardless of nationality, will, in silence and even in darkness, converse eloquently together in mind language. that which is now esoteric will become exoteric. then mind will meet mind as my mind now impinges on your own, and, in reply to your unuttered question regarding my apparently unaccountable powers of perception, i say they are perfectly natural, but while i can read your thoughts, because of the fact that you can not reciprocate in this direction, i must use my voice to impress your mind. you will know more of this, however, at a future day, for it has been ordained that you are to be educated with an object that is now concealed. at present you are interested mainly in the affairs of life as you know them, and can not enter into these purer spheres. we are approaching one of your former friends, and it may be your pleasure to ask him some questions and to bid him farewell." chapter ix. i can not establish my identity. in surprise i perceived coming towards us a light spring wagon, in which rode one of my old acquaintances. pleasure at the discovery led me to raise my hat, wave it around my head, and salute him even at the considerable distance that then separated us. i was annoyed at the look of curiosity that passed over his countenance, and not until the two vehicles had stopped side by side did it occur to me that i was unrecognized. i had been so engrossed in my companion's revelations, that i had forgotten my unfortunate physical condition. i stretched out my hand, i leaned over almost into the other vehicle, and earnestly said: "do you not know me? only a short time ago we sat and conversed side by side." a look of bewilderment came over his features. "i have never seen you that i can recall," he answered. my spirit sank within me. could it be possible that i was really so changed? i begged him to try and recall my former self, giving my name. "i am that person," i added; but he, with an expression of countenance that told as plainly as words could speak that he considered me deranged, touched his horse, and drove on. my companion broke the awkward silence. "do you know that i perceived between you two men an unconscious display of mind-language, especially evident on your part? you wished with all the earnestness of your soul to bring yourself as you formerly appeared, before that man, and when it proved impossible, without a word from him, his mind exhibited itself to your more earnest intellect, and you realized that he said to himself, 'this person is a poor lunatic.' he told you his thoughts in mind-language, as plainly as words could have spoken, because the intense earnestness on your part quickened your perceptive faculties, but he could not see your mental state, and the pleading voice of the apparent stranger before him could not convince the unconcerned lethargic mind within him. i observed, however, in addition to what you noticed, that he is really looking for you. that is the object of his journey, and i learn that in every direction men are now spreading the news that you have been kidnapped and carried from your jail. however, we shall soon be in the village, and you will then hear more about yourself." we rode in silence while i meditated on my remarkable situation. i could not resign myself without a struggle to my approaching fate, and i felt even yet a hope, although i seemed powerless in the hands of destiny. could i not, by some method, convince my friends of my identity? i determined, forgetting the fact that my guide was even then reading my mind, that upon the next opportunity i would pursue a different course. "it will not avail," my companion replied. "you must do one of two things: you will voluntarily go with me, or you will involuntarily go to an insane asylum. neither you nor i could by any method convince others that the obviously decrepit old man beside me was but yesterday hale, hearty, young and strong. you will find that you can not prove your identity, and as a friend, one of the great brotherhood to which you belong, a craft that deals charitably with all men and all problems, i advise you to accept the situation as soon as possible after it becomes evident to your mind that you are lost to former affiliations, and must henceforth be a stranger to the people whom you know. take my advice, and cease to regret the past and cheerfully turn your thoughts to the future. on one side of you the lunatic asylum is open; on the other, a journey into an unknown region, beyond the confines of any known country. on the one hand, imprisonment and subjection, perhaps abuse and neglect; on the other, liberation of soul, evolution of faculty, and a grasping of superior knowledge that is denied most men--yes, withheld from all but a few persons of each generation, for only a few, unknown to the millions of this world's inhabitants, have passed over the road you are to travel. just now you wished to meet your jailer of a few hours ago; it is a wise conclusion, and if he does not recognize you, i ask in sincerity, who will be likely to do so? we will drive straight to his home; but, here he comes." indeed, we were now in the village, where my miserable journey began, and perhaps by chance--it seems that it could not have been otherwise--my former jailer actually approached us. "if you please," said my companion, "i will assist you to alight from the wagon, and you may privately converse with him." our wagon stopped, my guide opened a conversation with the jailer, saying that his friend wished to speak with him, and then assisted me to alight and retired a distance. i was vexed at my infirmities, which embarrassed me most exasperatingly, but which i knew were artificial; my body appeared unwilling although my spirit was anxious; but do what i could to control my actions, i involuntarily behaved like a decrepit old man. however, my mind was made up; this attempt to prove my personality should be the last; failure now would prove the turning point, and i would go willingly with my companion upon the unknown journey if i could not convince the jailer of my identity. straightening myself before the expectant jailer, who, with a look of inquisitiveness, regarded me as a stranger, i asked if he knew my former self, giving my name. "that i do," he replied, "and if i could find him at this moment i would be relieved of a load of worry." "would you surely know him if you met him?" i asked. "assuredly," he replied; "and if you bring tidings of his whereabouts, as your bearing indicates, speak, that i may rid myself of suspicion and suspense." calling the jailer by name, i asked him if my countenance did not remind him of the man he wished to find. "not at all." "listen, does not my voice resemble that of your escaped prisoner?" "not in the least." [illustration: "i am the man you seek."] with a violent effort i drew my form as straight as possible, and stood upright before him, with every facial muscle strained to its utmost, in a vain endeavor to bring my wrinkled countenance to its former smoothness, and with the energy that a drowning man might exert to grasp a passing object, i tried to control my voice, and preserve my identity by so doing, vehemently imploring him, begging him to listen to my story. "i am the man you seek; i am the prisoner who, a few days ago, stood in the prime of life before you. i have been spirited away from you by men who are leagued with occult forces, which extend forward among hidden mysteries, into forces which illuminate the present, and reach backward into the past unseen. these persons, by artful and damnable manipulations under the guidance of a power that has been evolved in the secrecy of past ages, and transmitted only to a favored few, have changed the strong man you knew into the one apparently feeble, who now confronts you. only a short period has passed since i was your unwilling captive, charged with debt, a trifling sum; and then, as your sullen prisoner, i longed for freedom. now i plead before you, with all my soul, i beg of you to take me back to my cell. seal your doors, and hold me again, for your dungeon will now be to me a paradise." i felt that i was becoming frantic, for with each word i realized that the jailer became more and more impatient and annoyed. i perceived that he believed me to be a lunatic. pleadings and entreaties were of no avail, and my eagerness rapidly changed into despair until at last i cried: "if you will not believe my words, i will throw myself on the mercy of my young companion. i ask you to consider his testimony, and if he says that i am not what i assert myself to be, i will leave my home and country, and go with him quietly into the unknown future." he turned to depart, but i threw myself before him, and beckoned the young man who, up to this time, had stood aloof in respectful silence. he came forward, and addressing the jailer, called him by name, and corroborated my story. yes, strange as it sounded to me, he reiterated the substance of my narrative as i had repeated it. "now, you will believe it," i cried in ecstacy; "now you need no longer question the facts that i have related." instead, however, of accepting the story of the witness, the jailer upbraided him. "this is a preconcerted arrangement to get me into ridicule or further trouble. you two have made up an incredible story that on its face is fit only to be told to men as crazy or designing as yourselves. this young man did not even overhear your conversation with me, and yet he repeats his lesson without a question from me as to what i wish to learn of him." "he can see our minds," i cried in despair. "crazier than i should have believed from your countenance," the jailer replied. "of all the improbable stories imaginable, you have attempted to inveigle me into accepting that which is most unreasonable. if you are leagued together intent on some swindling scheme, i give you warning now that i am in no mood for trifling. go your way, and trouble me no more with this foolish scheming, which villainy or lunacy of some description must underlie." he turned in anger and left us. "it is as i predicted," said my companion; "you are lost to man. those who know you best will turn from you soonest. i might become as wild as you are, in your interest, and only serve to make your story appear more extravagant. in human affairs men judge and act according to the limited knowledge at command of the multitude. witnesses who tell the truth are often, in our courts of law, stunned, as you have been, by the decisions of a narrow-minded jury. men sit on juries with little conception of the facts of the case that is brought before them; the men who manipulate them are mere tools in unseen hands that throw their several minds in antagonisms unexplainable to man. the judge is unconsciously often a tool of his own errors or those of others. one learned judge unties what another has fastened, each basing his views on the same testimony, each rendering his decision in accordance with law derived from the same authority. your case is that condition of mind that men call lunacy. you can see much that is hidden from others because you have become acquainted with facts that their narrow education forbids them to accept, but, because the majority is against you, they consider you mentally unbalanced. the philosophy of men does not yet comprehend the conditions that have operated on your person, and as you stand alone, although in the right, all men will oppose you, and you must submit to the views of a misguided majority. in the eyes of a present generation you are crazy. a jury of your former peers could not do else than so adjudge you, for you are not on the same mental plane, and i ask, will you again attempt to accomplish that which is as impossible as it would be for you to drink the waters of seneca lake at one draught? go to those men and propose to drain that lake at one gulp, and you will be listened to as seriously as when you beg your former comrades to believe that you are another person than what you seem. only lengthened life is credited with the production of physical changes that under favorable conditions, are possible of accomplishment in a brief period, and such testimony as you could bring, in the present state of human knowledge, would only add to the proof of your lunacy." "i see, i see," i said; "and i submit. lead on, i am ready. whatever my destined career may be, wherever it may be, it can only lead to the grave." "do not be so sure of that," was the reply. i shuddered instinctively, for this answer seemed to imply that the stillness of the grave would be preferable to my destiny. we got into the wagon again, and a deep silence followed as we rode along, gazing abstractedly on the quiet fields and lonely farm-houses. finally we reached a little village. here my companion dismissed the farmer, our driver, paying him liberally, and secured lodgings in a private family (i believe we were expected), and after a hearty supper we retired. from the time we left the jailer i never again attempted to reveal my identity. i had lost my interest in the past, and found myself craving to know what the future had in store for me. chapter x. my journey towards the end of earth begins.--the adepts' brotherhood. my companion did not attempt to watch over my motions or in any way to interfere with my freedom. "i will for a time necessarily be absent," he said, "arranging for our journey, and while i am getting ready you must employ yourself as best you can. i ask you, however, now to swear that, as you have promised, you will not seek your wife and children." to this i agreed. "hold up your hand," he said, and i repeated after him: "all this i most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, with a firm and steadfast resolution to keep and perform my oath, without the least equivocation, mental reservation or self-evasion whatever." "that will answer; see that you keep your oath this time," he said, and he departed. several days were consumed before he returned, and during that time i was an inquisitive and silent listener to the various conjectures others were making regarding my abduction which event was becoming of general interest. some of the theories advanced were quite near the truth, others wild and erratic. how preposterous it seemed to me that the actor himself could be in the very seat of the disturbance, willing, anxious to testify, ready to prove the truth concerning his position, and yet unable even to obtain a respectful hearing from those most interested in his recovery. men gathered together discussing the "outrage"; women, children, even, talked of little else, and it was evident that the entire country was aroused. new political issues took their rise from the event, but the man who was the prime cause of the excitement was for a period a willing and unwilling listener, as he had been a willing and unwilling actor in the tragedy. one morning my companion drove up in a light carriage, drawn by a span of fine, spirited, black horses. "we are ready now," he said, and my unprecedented journey began. wherever we stopped, i heard my name mentioned. men combined against men, brother was declaiming against brother, neighbor was against neighbor, everywhere suspicion was in the air. "the passage of time alone can quiet these people," said i. "the usual conception of the term time--an indescribable something flowing at a constant rate--is erroneous," replied my comrade. "time is humanity's best friend, and should be pictured as a ministering angel, instead of a skeleton with hour-glass and scythe. time does not fly, but is permanent and quiescent, while restless, force-impelled matter rushes onward. force and matter fly; time reposes. at our birth we are wound up like a machine, to move for a certain number of years, grating against time. we grind against that complacent spirit, and wear not time but ourselves away. we hold within ourselves a certain amount of energy, which, an evanescent form of matter, is the opponent of time. time has no existence with inanimate objects. it is a conception of the human intellect. time is rest, perfect rest, tranquillity such as man never realizes unless he becomes a part of the sweet silences toward which human life and human mind are drifting. so much for time. now for life. disturbed energy in one of its forms, we call life; and this life is the great enemy of peace, the opponent of steadfast perfection. pure energy, the soul of the universe, permeates all things with which man is now acquainted, but when at rest is imperceptible to man, while disturbed energy, according to its condition, is apparent either as matter or as force. a substance or material body is a manifestation resulting from a disturbance of energy. the agitating cause removed, the manifestations disappear, and thus a universe may be extinguished, without unbalancing the cosmos that remains. the worlds known to man are conditions of abnormal energy moving on separate planes through what men call space. they attract to themselves bodies of similar description, and thus influence one another--they have each a separate existence, and are swayed to and fro under the influence of the various disturbances in energy common to their rank or order, which we call forms of forces. unsettled energy also assumes numerous other expressions that are unknown to man, but which in all perceptible forms is characterized by motion. pure energy can not be appreciated by the minds of mortals. there are invisible worlds besides those perceived by us in our planetary system, unreachable centers of ethereal structure about us that stand in a higher plane of development than earthly matter which is a gross form of disturbed energy. there are also lower planes. man's acquaintance with the forms of energy is the result of his power of perceiving the forms of matter of which he is a part. heat, light, gravitation, electricity and magnetism are ever present in all perceivable substances, and, although purer than earth, they are still manifestations of absolute energy, and for this reason are sensible to men, but more evanescent than material bodies. perhaps you can conceive that if these disturbances could be removed, matter or force would be resolved back into pure energy, and would vanish. such a dissociation is an ethereal existence, and as pure energy the life spirit of all material things is neither cold nor hot, heavy nor light, solid, liquid nor gaseous--men can not, as mortals now exist, see, feel, smell, taste, or even conceive of it. it moves through space as we do through it, a world of itself as transparent to matter as matter is to it, insensible but ever present, a reality to higher existences that rest in other planes, but not to us an essence subject to scientific test, nor an entity. of these problems and their connection with others in the unseen depths beyond, you are not yet in a position properly to judge, but before many years a new sense will be given you or a development of latent senses by the removal of those more gross, and a partial insight into an unsuspected unseen, into a realm to you at present unknown. "it has been ordained that a select few must from time to time pass over the threshold that divides a mortal's present life from the future, and your lot has been cast among the favored ones. it is or should be deemed a privilege to be permitted to pass farther than human philosophy has yet gone, into an investigation of the problems of life; this i say to encourage you. we have in our order a handful of persons who have received the accumulated fruits of the close attention others have given to these subjects which have been handed to them by the generations of men who have preceded. you are destined to become as they are. this study of semi-occult forces has enabled those selected for the work to master some of the concealed truths of being, and by the partial development of a new sense or new senses, partly to triumph over death. these facts are hidden from ordinary man, and from the earth-bound workers of our brotherhood, who can not even interpret the words they learn. the methods by which they are elucidated have been locked from man because the world is not prepared to receive them, selfishness being the ruling passion of debased mankind, and publicity, until the chain of evidence is more complete, would embarrass their further evolutions, for man as yet lives on the selfish plane." "do you mean that, among men, there are a few persons possessed of powers such as you have mentioned?" "yes; they move here and there through all orders of society, and their attainments are unknown, except to one another, or, at most, to but few persons. these adepts are scientific men, and may not even be recognized as members of our organization; indeed it is often necessary, for obvious reasons, that they should not be known as such. these studies must constantly be prosecuted in various directions, and some monitors must teach others to perform certain duties that are necessary to the grand evolution. hence, when a man has become one of our brotherhood, from the promptings that made you one of us, and has been as ready and determined to instruct outsiders in our work as you have been, it is proper that he should in turn be compelled to serve our people, and eventually, mankind." "am i to infer from this," i exclaimed, a sudden light breaking upon me, "that the alchemistic manuscript that led me to the fraternity to which you are related may have been artfully designed to serve the interest of that organization?" to this question i received no reply. after an interval, i again sought information concerning the order, and with more success. "i understand that you propose that i shall go on a journey of investigation for the good of our order and also of humanity." "true; it is necessary that our discoveries be kept alive, and it is essential that the men who do this work accept the trust of their own accord. he who will not consent to add to the common stock of knowledge and understanding, must be deemed a drone in the hive of nature--but few persons, however, are called upon to serve as you must serve. men are scattered over the world with this object in view, and are unknown to their families or even to other members of the order; they hold in solemn trust our sacred revelations, and impart them to others as is ordained, and thus nothing perishes; eventually humanity will profit. "others, as you soon will be doing, are now exploring assigned sections of this illimitable field, accumulating further knowledge, and they will report results to those whose duty it is to retain and formulate the collected sum of facts and principles. so it is that, unknown to the great body of our brotherhood, a chosen number, under our esoteric teachings, are gradually passing the dividing line that separates life from death, matter from spirit, for we have members who have mastered these problems. we ask, however, no aid of evil forces or of necromancy or black art, and your study of alchemy was of no avail, although to save the vital truths alchemy is a part of our work. we proceed in exact accordance with natural laws, which will yet be known to all men. sorrow, suffering, pain of all descriptions, are enemies to the members of our order, as they are to mankind broadly, and we hope in the future so to control the now hidden secrets of nature as to be able to govern the antagonistic disturbances in energy with which man now is everywhere thwarted, to subdue the physical enemies of the race, to affiliate religious and scientific thought, cultivating brotherly love, the foundation and capstone, the cement and union of this ancient fraternity." "and am i really to take an important part in this scheme? have i been set apart to explore a section of the unknown for a bit of hidden knowledge, and to return again?" "this i will say," he answered, evading a direct reply, "you have been selected for a part that one in a thousand has been required to undertake. you are to pass into a field that will carry you beyond the present limits of human observation. this much i have been instructed to impart to you in order to nerve you for your duty. i seem to be a young man; really i am aged. you seem to be infirm and old, but you are young. many years ago, cycles ago as men record time, i was promoted to do a certain work because of my zealous nature; like you, i also had to do penance for an error. i disappeared, as you are destined to do, from the sight of men. i regained my youth; yours has been lost forever, but you will regain more than your former strength. we shall both exist after this generation of men has passed away, and shall mingle with generations yet to be born, for we shall learn how to restore our youthful vigor, and will supply it time and again to earthly matter. rest assured also that the object of our labors is of the most laudable nature, and we must be upheld under all difficulties by the fact that multitudes of men who are yet to come will be benefited thereby." chapter xi. my journey continues.--instinct. it is unnecessary for me to give the details of the first part of my long journey. my companion was guided by a perceptive faculty that, like the compass, enabled him to keep in the proper course. he did not question those whom we met, and made no endeavor to maintain a given direction; and yet he was traveling in a part of the country that was new to himself. i marveled at the accuracy of his intuitive perception, for he seemed never to be at fault. when the road forked, he turned to the right or the left in a perfectly careless manner, but the continuity of his course was never interrupted. i began mentally to question whether he could be guiding us aright, forgetting that he was reading my thoughts, and he answered: "there is nothing strange in this self-directive faculty. is not man capable of following where animals lead? one of the objects of my special study has been to ascertain the nature of the instinct-power of animals, the sagacity of brutes. the carrier pigeon will fly to its cote across hundreds of miles of strange country. the young pig will often return to its pen by a route unknown to it; the sluggish tortoise will find its home without a guide, without seeing a familiar object; cats, horses and other animals possess this power, which is not an unexplainable instinct, but a natural sense better developed in some of the lower creatures than it is in man. the power lies dormant in man, but exists, nevertheless. if we develop one faculty we lose acuteness in some other power. men have lost in mental development in this particular direction while seeking to gain in others. if there were no record of the fact that light brings objects to the recognition of the mind through the agency of the eye, the sense of sight in an animal would be considered by men devoid of it as adaptability to extraordinary circumstances, or instinct. so it is that animals often see clearly where to the sense of man there is only darkness; such sight is not irresponsive action without consciousness of a purpose. man is not very magnanimous. instead of giving credit to the lower animals for superior perception in many directions, he denies to them the conscious possession of powers imperfectly developed in mankind. we egotistically aim to raise ourselves, and do so in our own estimation by clothing the actions of the lower animals in a garment of irresponsibility. because we can not understand the inwardness of their power, we assert that they act by the influence of instinct. the term instinct, as i would define it, is an expression applied by men to a series of senses which man possesses, but has not developed. the word is used by man to characterize the mental superiority of other animals in certain directions where his own senses are defective. instead of crediting animals with these, to them, invaluable faculties, man conceitedly says they are involuntary actions. ignorant of their mental status, man is too arrogant to admit that lower animals are superior to him in any way. but we are not consistent. is it not true that in the direction in which you question my power, some men by cultivation often become expert beyond their fellows? and such men have also given very little systematic study to subjects connected with these undeniable mental qualities. the hunter will hold his course in utter darkness, passing inequalities in the ground, and avoiding obstructions he can not see. the fact of his superiority in this way, over others, is not questioned, although he can not explain his methods nor understand how he operates. his quickened sense is often as much entitled to be called instinct as is the divining power of the carrier pigeon. if scholars would cease to devote their entire energies to the development of the material, artistic, or scientific part of modern civilization, and turn their attention to other forms of mental culture, many beauties and powers of nature now unknown would be revealed. however, this can not be, for under existing conditions, the strife for food and warmth is the most important struggle that engages mankind, and controls our actions. in a time that is surely to come, however, when the knowledge of all men is united into a comprehensive whole, the book of life, illuminated thereby, will contain many beautiful pages that may be easily read, but which are now not suspected to exist. the power of the magnet is not uniform--engineers know that the needle of the compass inexplicably deviates from time to time as a line is run over the earth's surface, but they also know that aberrations of the needle finally correct themselves. the temporary variations of a few degrees that occur in the running of a compass line are usually overcome after a time, and without a change of course, the disturbed needle swerves back, and again points to the calculated direction, as is shown by the vernier. should i err in my course, it would be by a trifle only, and we could not go far astray before i would unconsciously discover the true path. i carry my magnet in my mind." many such dissertations or explanations concerning related questions were subsequently made in what i then considered a very impressive, though always unsatisfactory, manner. i recall those episodes now, after other more remarkable experiences which are yet to be related, and record them briefly with little wonderment, because i have gone through adventures which demonstrate that there is nothing improbable in the statements, and i will not consume time with further details of this part of my journey. we leisurely traversed state after state, crossed rivers, mountains and seemingly interminable forests. the ultimate object of our travels, a location in kentucky, i afterward learned, led my companion to guide me by a roundabout course to wheeling, virginia, by the usual mountain roads of that day, instead of going, as he might perhaps have much more easily done, via buffalo and the lake shore to northern ohio, and then southerly across the country. he said in explanation, that the time lost at the beginning of our journey by this route, was more than recompensed by the ease of the subsequent ohio river trip. upon reaching wheeling, he disposed of the team, and we embarked on a keel boat, and journeyed down the ohio to cincinnati. the river was falling when we started, and became very low before cincinnati was reached, too low for steamers, and our trip in that flat-bottomed boat, on the sluggish current of the tortuous stream, proved tedious and slow. arriving at cincinnati, my guide decided to wait for a rise in the river, designing then to complete our journey on a steamboat. i spent several days in cincinnati quite pleasantly, expecting to continue our course on the steamer "tecumseh," then in port, and ready for departure. at the last moment my guide changed his mind, and instead of embarking on that boat, we took passage on the steamer "george washington," leaving shipping-port wednesday, december , . during that entire journey, from the commencement to our final destination, my guide paid all the bills, and did not want either for money or attention from the people with whom we came in contact. he seemed everywhere a stranger, and yet was possessed of a talisman that opened every door to which he applied, and which gave us unlimited accommodations wherever he asked them. when the boat landed at smithland, kentucky, a village on the bank of the ohio, just above paducah, we disembarked, and my guide then for the first time seemed mentally disturbed. "our journey together is nearly over," he said; "in a few days my responsibility for you will cease. nerve yourself for the future, and bear its trials and its pleasures manfully. i may never see you again, but as you are even now conspicuous in our history, and will be closely connected with the development of the plan in which i am also interested, although i am destined to take a different part, i shall probably hear of you again." chapter xii. a cavern discovered.--biswell's hill. we stopped that night at a tavern in smithland. leaving this place after dinner the next day, on foot, we struck through the country, into the bottom lands of the cumberland river, traveling leisurely, lingering for hours in the course of a circuitous tramp of only a few miles. although it was the month of december, the climate was mild and balmy. in my former home, a similar time of year would have been marked with snow, sleet, and ice, and i could not but draw a contrast between the two localities. how different also the scenery from that of my native state. great timber trees, oak, poplar, hickory, were in majestic possession of large tracts of territory, in the solitude of which man, so far as evidences of his presence were concerned, had never before trodden. from time to time we passed little clearings that probably were to be enlarged to thrifty plantations in the future, and finally we crossed the cumberland river. that night we rested with mr. joseph watts, a wealthy and cultured land owner, who resided on the river's bank. after leaving his home the next morning, we journeyed slowly, very slowly, my guide seemingly passing with reluctance into the country. he had become a very pleasant companion, and his conversation was very entertaining. we struck the sharp point of a ridge the morning we left mr. watts' hospitable house. it was four or five miles distant, but on the opposite side of the cumberland, from smithland. here a steep bluff broke through the bottom land to the river's edge, the base of the bisected point being washed by the cumberland river, which had probably cut its way through the stony mineral of this ridge in ages long passed. we climbed to its top and sat upon the pinnacle, and from that point of commanding observation i drank in the beauties of the scene around me. the river at our feet wound gracefully before us, and disappeared in both directions, its extremes dissolving in a bed of forest. a great black bluff, far up the stream, rose like a mountain, upon the left side of the river; bottom lands were about us, and hills appeared across the river in the far distance--towards the tennessee river. with regret i finally drew my eyes from the vision, and we resumed the journey. we followed the left bank of the river to the base of the black bluff,--"biswell's hill," a squatter called it,--and then skirted the side of that hill, passing along precipitous stone bluffs and among stunted cedars. above us towered cliff over cliff, almost perpendicularly; below us rolled the river. [illustration: section of kentucky, near smithland, in which the entrance to the kentucky cavern is said to be located.] i was deeply impressed by the changing beauties of this strange kentucky scenery, but marveled at the fact that while i became light-hearted and enthusiastic, my guide grew correspondingly despondent and gloomy. from time to time he lapsed into thoughtful silence, and once i caught his eye directed toward me in a manner that i inferred to imply either pity or envy. we passed biswell's bluff, and left the cumberland river at its upper extremity, where another small creek empties into the river. thence, after ascending the creek some distance, we struck across the country, finding it undulating and fertile, with here and there a small clearing. during this journey we either camped out at night, or stopped with a resident, when one was to be found in that sparsely settled country. sometimes there were exasperating intervals between our meals; but we did not suffer, for we carried with us supplies of food, such as cheese and crackers, purchased in smithland, for emergencies. we thus proceeded a considerable distance into livingston county, kentucky. i observed remarkable sinks in the earth, sometimes cone-shaped, again precipitous. these cavities were occasionally of considerable size and depth, and they were more numerous in the uplands than in the bottoms. they were somewhat like the familiar "sink-holes" of new york state, but monstrous in comparison. the first that attracted my attention was near the cumberland river, just before we reached biswell's hill. it was about forty feet deep and thirty in diameter, with precipitous stone sides, shrubbery growing therein in exceptional spots where loose earth had collected on shelves of stone that cropped out along its rugged sides. the bottom of the depression was flat and fertile, covered with a luxuriant mass of vegetation. on one side of the base of the gigantic bowl, a cavern struck down into the earth. i stood upon the edge of this funnel-like sink, and marveled at its peculiar appearance. a spirit of curiosity, such as often influences men when an unusual natural scene presents itself, possessed me. i clambered down, swinging from brush to brush, and stepping from shelving-rock to shelving-rock, until i reached the bottom of the hollow, and placing my hand above the black hole in its center, i perceived that a current of cold air was rushing therefrom, upward. i probed with a long stick, but the direction of the opening was tortuous, and would not admit of examination in that manner. i dropped a large pebble-stone into the orifice; the pebble rolled and clanked down, down, and at last, the sound died away in the distance. "i wish that i could go into the cavity as that stone has done, and find the secrets of this cave," i reflected, the natural love of exploration possessing me as it probably does most men. my companion above, seated on the brink of the stone wall, replied to my thoughts: "your wish shall be granted. you have requested that which has already been laid out for you. you will explore where few men have passed before, and will have the privilege of following your destiny into a realm of natural wonders. a fertile field of investigation awaits you, such as will surpass your most vivid imaginings. come and seat yourself beside me, for it is my duty now to tell you something about the land we are approaching, the cavern fields of kentucky." chapter xiii. the punch-bowls and caverns of kentucky.--"into the unknown country." "this part of kentucky borders a field of caverns that reaches from near the state of tennessee to the ohio river, and from the mouth of the cumberland, eastward to and beyond the center of the state. this great area is of irregular outline, and as yet has been little explored. underneath the surface are layers of limestone and sandstone rock, the deposits ranging from ten to one hundred and fifty feet in thickness, and often great masses of conglomerate appear. this conglomerate sometimes caps the ridges, and varies in thickness from a few feet only, to sixty, or even a hundred, feet. it is of a diversified character, sometimes largely composed of pebbles cemented together by iron ore into compact beds, while again it passes abruptly into gritty sandstone, or a fine-grained compact rock destitute of pebbles. sometimes the conglomerate rests directly on the limestone, but in the section about us, more often argillaceous shales or veins of coal intervene, and occasionally inferior and superior layers of conglomerate are separated by a bed of coal. in addition, lead-bearing veins now and then crop up, the crystals of galena being disseminated through masses of fluor-spar, calc-spar, limestone and clay, which fill fissures between tilted walls of limestone and hard quartzose sandstone. valleys, hills, and mountains, grow out of this remarkable crust. rivers and creeks flow through and under it in crevices, either directly upon the bedstone or over deposits of clay which underlie it. in some places, beds of coal or slate alternate with layers of the lime rock; in others, the interspace is clay and sand. sometimes the depth of the several limestone and conglomerate deposits is great, and they are often honeycombed by innumerable transverse and diagonal spaces. water drips have here and there washed out the more friable earth and stone, forming grottoes which are as yet unknown to men, but which will be discovered to be wonderful and fantastic beyond anything of a like nature now familiar. in other places cavities exist between shelves of rock that lie one above the other--monstrous openings caused by the erosive action of rivers now lost, but that have flowed during unnumbered ages past; great parallel valleys and gigantic chambers, one over the other, remaining to tell the story of these former torrents. occasionally the weight of a portion of the disintegrating rock above becomes too great for its tensile strength and the material crumbles and falls, producing caverns sometimes reaching so near to the earth's surface, as to cause sinks in its crust. these sinks, when first formed, as a rule, present clear rock fractures, and immediately after their formation there is usually a water-way beneath. in the course of time soil collects on their sides, they become cone-shaped hollows from the down-slidings of earth, and then vegetation appears on the living soil; trees grow within them, and in many places the sloping sides of great earth bowls of this nature are, after untold years, covered with the virgin forest; magnificent timber trees growing on soil that has been stratified over and upon decayed monarchs of the forest whose remains, imbedded in the earth, speak of the ages that have passed since the convulsions that made the depressions which, notwithstanding the accumulated debris, are still a hundred feet or more in depth. if the drain or exit at the vortex of one of these sinks becomes clogged, which often occurs, the entire cavity fills with water, and a pond results. again, a slight orifice reaching far beneath the earth's surface may permit the soil to be gradually washed into a subterranean creek, and thus are formed great bowls, like funnels sunk in the earth--kentucky punch-bowls. "take the country about us, especially towards the mammoth cave, and for miles beyond, the landscape in certain localities is pitted with this description of sinks, some recent, others very old. many are small, but deep; others are large and shallow. ponds often of great depth, curiously enough overflowing and giving rise to a creek, are to be found on a ridge, telling of underground supply springs, not outlets, beneath. chains of such sinks, like a row of huge funnels, often appear; the soil between them is slowly washed through their exit into the river, flowing in the depths below, and as the earth that separates them is carried away by the subterranean streams, the bowls coalesce and a ravine, closed at both ends, results. along the bottom of such a ravine, a creek may flow, rushing from its natural tunnel at one end of the line, and disappearing in a gulf at the other. the stream begins in mystery, and ends in unfathomed darkness. near marion, hurricane creek thus disappears, and, so far as men know, is lost to sight forever. near cridersville, in this neighborhood, a valley such as i have described, takes in the surface floods of a large tract of country. the waters that run down its sides, during a storm form a torrent, and fence-rails, timbers, and other objects are gulped into the chasm where the creek plunges into the earth, and they never appear again. this part of kentucky is the most remarkable portion of the known world, and although now neglected, in a time to come is surely destined to an extended distinction. i have referred only to the surface, the skin formation of this honeycombed labyrinth, the entrance to the future wonderland of the world. portions of such a superficial cavern maze have been traversed by man in the ramifications known as the mammoth cave, but deeper than man has yet explored, the subcutaneous structure of that series of caverns is yet to be investigated. the mammoth cave as now traversed is simply a superficial series of grottoes and passages overlying the deeper cavern field that i have described. the explored chain of passages is of great interest to men, it is true, but of minor importance compared to others yet unknown, being in fact, the result of mere surface erosion. the river that bisects the cave, just beneath the surface of the earth, and known as echo river, is a miniature stream: there are others more magnificent that flow majestically far, far beneath it. as we descend into the earth in that locality, caverns multiply in number and increase in size, retaining the general configuration of those i have described. the layers of rock are thicker, the intervening spaces broader; and the spaces stretch in increasingly expanded chambers for miles, while high above each series of caverns the solid ceilings of stone arch and interarch. sheltered under these subterrene alcoves are streams, lakes, rivers and water-falls. near the surface of the earth such waters often teem with aquatic life, and some of the caves are inhabited by species of birds, reptiles and mammals as yet unknown to men, creatures possessed of senses and organs that are different from any we find with surface animals, and also apparently defective in particulars that would startle persons acquainted only with creatures that live in the sunshine. it is a world beneath a world, a world within a world--" my guide abruptly stopped. i sat entranced, marveling at the young-old adept's knowledge, admiring his accomplishments. i gazed into the cavity that yawned beneath me, and imagined its possible but to me invisible secrets, enraptured with the thought of searching into them. who would not feel elated at the prospect of an exploration, such as i foresaw might be pursued in my immediate future? i had often been charmed with narrative descriptions of discoveries, and book accounts of scientific investigations, but i had never pictured myself as a participant in such fascinating enterprises. "indeed, indeed," i cried exultingly; "lead me to this wonderland, show me the entrance to this subterranean world, and i promise willingly to do as you bid." "bravo!" he replied, "your heart is right, your courage sufficient; i have not disclosed a thousandth part of the wonders which i have knowledge of, and which await your research, and probably i have not gained even an insight into the mysteries that, if your courage permits, you will be privileged to comprehend. your destiny lies beyond, far beyond that which i have pictured or experienced; and i, notwithstanding my opportunities, have no conception of its end, for at the critical moment my heart faltered--i can therefore only describe the beginning." thus at the lower extremity of biswell's hill, i was made aware of the fact that, within a short time, i should be separated from my sympathetic guide, and that it was to be my duty to explore alone, or in other company, some portion of these kentucky cavern deeps, and i longed for the beginning of my underground journey. heavens! how different would have been my future life could i then have realized my position! would that i could have seen the end. after a few days of uneventful travel, we rested, one afternoon, in a hilly country that before us appeared to be more rugged, even mountainous. we had wandered leisurely, and were now at a considerable distance from the cumberland river, the aim of my guide being, as i surmised, to evade a direct approach to some object of interest which i must not locate exactly, and yet which i shall try to describe accurately enough for identification by a person familiar with the topography of that section. we stood on the side of a stony, sloping hill, back of which spread a wooded, undulating valley. "i remember to have passed along a creek in that valley," i remarked, looking back over our pathway. "it appeared to rise from this direction, but the source ends abruptly in this chain of hills." "the stream is beneath us," he answered. advancing a few paces, he brought to my attention, on the hillside, an opening in the earth. this aperture was irregular in form, about the diameter of a well, and descended perpendicularly into the stony crust. i leaned far over the orifice, and heard the gurgle of rushing water beneath. the guide dropped a heavy stone into the gloomy shaft, and in some seconds a dull splash announced its plunge into underground water. then he leaned over the stony edge, and--could i be mistaken?--seemed to signal to some one beneath; but it must be imagination on my part, i argued to myself, even against my very sense of sight. rising, and taking me by the hand, my guardian spoke: "brother, we approach the spot where you and i must separate. i serve my masters and am destined to go where i shall next be commanded; you will descend into the earth, as you have recently desired to do. here we part, most likely forever. this rocky fissure will admit the last ray of sunlight on your path." my heart failed. how often are we courageous in daylight and timid by night? men unflinchingly face in sunshine dangers at which they shudder in the darkness. "how am i to descend into that abyss?" i gasped. "the sides are perpendicular, the depth is unknown!" then i cried in alarm, the sense of distrust deepening: "do you mean to drown me; is it for this you have led me away from my native state, from friends, home and kindred? you have enticed me into this wilderness. i have been decoyed, and, like a foolish child, have willingly accompanied my destroyer. you feared to murder me in my distant home; the earth could not have hidden me; niagara even might have given up my body to dismay the murderers! in this underground river in the wilds of kentucky, all trace of my existence will disappear forever." i was growing furious. my frenzied eyes searched the ground for some missile of defense. by strange chance some one had left, on that solitary spot, a rude weapon, providentially dropped for my use, i thought. it was a small iron bolt or bar, somewhat rusted. i threw myself upon the earth, and, as i did so, picked this up quickly, and secreted it within my bosom. then i arose and resumed my stormy denunciation: "you have played your part well, you have led your unresisting victim to the sacrifice, but if i am compelled to plunge into this black grave, you shall go with me!" i shrieked in desperation, and suddenly threw my arms around the gentle adept, intending to hurl him into the chasm. at this point i felt my hands seized from behind in a cold, clammy, irresistible embrace, my fingers were loosed by a strong grasp, and i turned, to find myself confronted by a singular looking being, who quietly said: "you are not to be destroyed; we wish only to do your bidding." the speaker stood in a stooping position, with his face towards the earth as if to shelter it from the sunshine. he was less than five feet in height. his arms and legs were bare, and his skin, the color of light blue putty, glistened in the sunlight like the slimy hide of a water dog. he raised his head, and i shuddered in affright as i beheld that his face was not that of a human. his forehead extended in an unbroken plane from crown to cheek bone, and the chubby tip of an abortive nose without nostrils formed a short projection near the center of the level ridge which represented a countenance. there was no semblance of an eye, for there were no sockets. yet his voice was singularly perfect. his face, if face it could be called, was wet, and water dripped from all parts of his slippery person. yet, repulsive as he looked, i shuddered more at the remembrance of the touch of that cold, clammy hand than at the sight of his figure, for a dead man could not have chilled me as he had done, with his sappy skin, from which the moisture seemed to ooze as from the hide of a water lizard. [illustration: "confronted by a singular looking being."] turning to my guide, this freak of nature said, softly: "i have come in obedience to the signal." i realized at once that alone with these two i was powerless, and that to resist would be suicidal. instantly my effervescing passion subsided, and i expressed no further surprise at this sudden and remarkable apparition, but mentally acquiesced. i was alone and helpless; rage gave place to inertia in the despondency that followed the realization of my hopeless condition. the grotesque newcomer who, though sightless, possessed a strange instinct, led us to the base of the hill a few hundred feet away, and there, gushing into the light from the rocky bluff, i saw a magnificent stream issuing many feet in width. this was the head-waters of the mysterious brook that i had previously noticed. it flowed from an archway in the solid stone, springing directly out of the rock-bound cliff; beautiful and picturesque in its surroundings. the limpid water, clear and sparkling, issued from the unknown source that was typical of darkness, but the brook of crystal leaped into a world of sunshine, light and freedom. "brother," said my companion, "this spring emerging from this prison of earth images to us what humanity will be when the prisoning walls of ignorance that now enthrall him are removed. man has heretofore relied chiefly for his advancement, both mental and physical, on knowledge gained from so-called scientific explorations and researches with matter, from material studies rather than spiritual, all his investigations having been confined to the crude, coarse substance of the surface of the globe. spiritualistic investigations, unfortunately, are considered by scientific men too often as reaching backward only. the religions of the world clasp hands with, and lean upon, the dead past, it is true, but point to a living future. man must yet search by the agency of senses and spirit, the unfathomed mysteries that lie beneath his feet and over his head, and he who refuses to bow to the creator and honor his handiwork discredits himself. when this work is accomplished, as it yet will be, the future man, able then to comprehend the problem of life in its broader significance, drawing from all directions the facts necessary to his mental advancement, will have reached a state in which he can enjoy bodily comfort and supreme spiritual perfection, while he is yet an earth-bound mortal. in hastening this consummation, it is necessary that an occasional human life should be lost to the world, but such sacrifices are noble--yes, sublime, because contributing to the future exaltation of our race. the secret workers in the sacred order of which you are still a member, have ever taken an important part in furthering such a system of evolution. this feature of our work is unknown to brethren of the ordinary fraternity, and the individual research of each secret messenger is unguessed, by the craft at large. hence it is that the open workers of our order, those initiated by degrees only, who in lodge rooms carry on their beneficent labors among men, have had no hand other than as agents in your removal, and no knowledge of your present or future movements. their function is to keep together our organization on earth, and from them only an occasional member is selected, as you have been, to perform special duties in certain adventurous studies. are you willing to go on this journey of exploration? and are you brave enough to meet the trials you have invited?" again my enthusiasm arose, and i felt the thrill experienced by an investigator who stands on the brink of an important discovery, and needs but courage to advance, and i answered, "yes." "then, farewell; this archway is the entrance that will admit you into your arcanum of usefulness. this mystic brother, though a stranger to you, has long been apprised of our coming, and it was he who sped me on my journey to seek you, and who has since been waiting for us, and is to be your guide during the first stages of your subterrene progress. he is a friend, and, if you trust him, will protect you from harm. you will find the necessaries of life supplied, for i have traversed part of your coming road; that part i therefore know, but, as i have said, you are to go deeper into the unexplored,--yes, into and beyond the beyond, until finally you will come to the gateway that leads into the 'unknown country.'" chapter xiv. farewell to god's sunshine.--the echo of the cry. thus speaking, my quiet leader, who had so long been as a shepherd to my wandering feet, on the upper earth, grasped my hands tightly, and placed them in those of my new companion, whose clammy fingers closed over them as with a grip of iron. the mysterious being, now my custodian, turned towards the creek, drawing me after him, and together we silently and solemnly waded beneath the stone archway. as i passed under the shadow of that dismal, yawning cliff, i turned my head to take one last glimpse of the world i had known--that "warm precinct of the cheerful day,"--and tears sprang to my eyes. i thought of life, family, friends,--of all for which men live--and a melancholy vision arose, that of my lost, lost home. my dear companion of the journey that had just ended stood in the sunlight on the banks of the rippling stream, gazing at us intently, and waved an affectionate farewell. my uncouth new associate (guide or master, whichever he might be), of the journey to come, clasped me firmly by the arms, and waded slowly onward, thrusting me steadily against the cold current, and with irresistible force pressed me into the thickening darkness. the daylight disappeared, the pathway contracted, the water deepened and became more chilly. we were constrained to bow our heads in order to avoid the overhanging vault of stone; the water reached to my chin, and now the down-jutting roof touched the crown of my head; then i shuddered convulsively as the last ray of daylight disappeared. had it not been for my companion, i know that i should have sunk in despair, and drowned; but with a firm hand he held my head above the water, and steadily pushed me onward. i had reached the extreme of despondency: i neither feared nor cared for life nor death, and i realized that, powerless to control my own acts, my fate, the future, my existence depended on the strange being beside me. i was mysteriously sustained, however, by a sense of bodily security, such as comes over us as when in the hands of an experienced guide we journey through a wilderness, for i felt that my pilot of the underworld did not purpose to destroy me. we halted a moment, and then, as a faint light overspread us, my eyeless guide directed me to look upward. "we now stand beneath the crevice which you were told by your former guide would admit the last ray of sunlight on your path. i also say to you, this struggling ray of sunlight is to be your last for years." i gazed above me, feeling all the wretchedness of a dying man who, with faculties intact, might stand on the dark edge of the hillside of eternity, glancing back into the bright world; and that small opening far, far overhead, seemed as the gate to paradise lost. many a person, assured of ascending at will, has stood at the bottom of a deep well or shaft to a mine, and even then felt the undescribable sensation of dread, often terror, that is produced by such a situation. awe, mystery, uncertainty of life and future superadded, may express my sensation. i trembled, shrinking in horror from my captor and struggled violently. "hold, hold," i begged, as one involuntarily prays a surgeon to delay the incision of the amputating knife, "just one moment." my companion, unheeding, moved on, the light vanished instantly, and we were surrounded by total darkness. god's sunshine was blotted out. [illustration: "this struggling ray of sunlight is to be your last for years."] then i again became unconcerned; i was not now responsible for my own existence, and the feeling that i experienced when a prisoner in the closed carriage returned. i grew careless as to my fate, and with stolid indifference struggled onward as we progressed slowly against the current of water. i began to interest myself in speculations regarding our surroundings, and the object or outcome of our journey. in places the water was shallow, scarce reaching to our ankles; again it was so deep that we could wade only with exertion, and at times the passage up which we toiled was so narrow, that it would scarcely admit us. after a long, laborious stemming of the unseen brook, my companion directed me to close my mouth, hold my nostrils with my fingers, and stoop; almost diving with me beneath the water, he drew me through the submerged crevice, and we ascended into an open chamber, and left the creek behind us. i fancied that we were in a large room, and as i shouted aloud to test my hypothesis, echo after echo answered, until at last the cry reverberated and died away in distant murmurs. we were evidently in a great pocket or cavern, through which my guide now walked rapidly; indeed, he passed along with unerring footsteps, as certain of his course as i might be on familiar ground in full daylight. i perceived that he systematically evaded inequalities that i could not anticipate nor see. he would tell me to step up or down, as the surroundings required, and we ascended or descended accordingly. our path turned to the right or the left from time to time, but my eyeless guide passed through what were evidently the most tortuous windings without a mishap. i wondered much at this gift of knowledge, and at last overcame my reserve sufficiently to ask how we could thus unerringly proceed in utter darkness. the reply was: "the path is plainly visible to me; i see as clearly in pitch darkness as you can in sunshine." "explain yourself further," i requested. he replied, "not yet;" and continued, "you are weary, we will rest." he conducted me to a seat on a ledge, and left me for a time. returning soon, he placed in my hands food which i ate with novel relish. the pabulum seemed to be of vegetable origin, though varieties of it had a peculiar flesh-like flavor. several separate and distinct substances were contained in the queer viands, some portions savoring of wholesome flesh, while others possessed the delicate flavors of various fruits, such as the strawberry and the pineapple. the strange edibles were of a pulpy texture, homogeneous in consistence, parts being juicy and acid like grateful fruits. some portions were in slices or films that i could hold in my hand like sections of a velvet melon, and yet were in many respects unlike any other food that i had ever tasted. there was neither rind nor seed; it seemed as though i were eating the gills of a fish, and in answer to my question the guide remarked: "yes; it is the gill, but not the gill of a fish. you will be instructed in due time." i will add that after this, whenever necessary, we were supplied with food, but both thirst and hunger disappeared altogether before our underground journey was finished. after a while we again began our journey, which we continued in what was to me absolute darkness. my strength seemed to endure the fatigue to a wonderful degree, notwithstanding that we must have been walking hour after hour, and i expressed a curiosity about the fact. my guide replied that the atmosphere of the cavern possessed an intrinsic vitalizing power that neutralized fatigue, "or," he said, "there is here an inherent constitutional energy derived from an active gaseous substance that belongs to cavern air at this depth, and sustains the life force by contributing directly to its conservation, taking the place of food and drink." "i do not understand," i said. "no; and you do not comprehend how ordinary air supports mind and vitalizes muscle, and at the same time wears out both muscle and all other tissues. these are facts which are not satisfactorily explained by scientific statements concerning oxygenation of the blood. as we descend into the earth we find an increase in the life force of the cavern air." this reference to surface earth recalled my former life, and led me to contrast my present situation with that i had forfeited. i was seized with an uncontrollable longing for home, and a painful craving for the past took possession of my heart, but with a strong effort i shook off the sensations. we traveled on and on in silence and in darkness, and i thought again of the strange remark of my former guide who had said: "you are destined to go deeper into the unknown; yes, into and beyond the beyond." chapter xv. a zone of light deep within the earth. "oh! for one glimpse of light, a ray of sunshine!" in reply to this my mental ejaculation, my guide said: "can not you perceive that the darkness is becoming less intense?" "no," i answered, "i can not; night is absolute." "are you sure?" he asked. "cover your eyes with your hands, then uncover and open them." i did so and fancied that by contrast a faint gray hue was apparent. "this must be imagination." "no; we now approach a zone of earth light; let us hasten on." "a zone of light deep in the earth! incomprehensible! incredible!" i muttered, and yet as we went onward and time passed the darkness was less intense. the barely perceptible hue became gray and somber, and then of a pearly translucence, and although i could not distinguish the outline of objects, yet i unquestionably perceived light. "i am amazed! what can be the cause of this phenomenon? what is the nature of this mysterious halo that surrounds us?" i held my open hand before my eyes, and perceived the darkness of my spread fingers. "it is light, it is light," i shouted, "it is really light!" and from near and from far the echoes of that subterranean cavern answered back joyfully, "it is light, it is light!" i wept in joy, and threw my arms about my guide, forgetting in the ecstasy his clammy cuticle, and danced in hysterical glee and alternately laughed and cried. how vividly i realized then that the imprisoned miner would give a world of gold, his former god, for a ray of light. "compose yourself; this emotional exhibition is an evidence of weakness; an investigator should neither become depressed over a reverse, nor unduly enthusiastic over a fortunate discovery." "but we approach the earth's surface? soon i will be back in the sunshine again." "upon the contrary, we have been continually descending into the earth, and we are now ten miles or more beneath the level of the ocean." [illustration: "we approach daylight, i can see your form."] i shrank back, hesitated, and in despondency gazed at his hazy outline, then, as if palsied, sank upon the stony floor; but as i saw the light before me, i leaped up and shouted: "what you say is not true; we approach daylight, i can see your form." "listen to me," he said. "can not you understand that i have led you continually down a steep descent, and that for hours there has been no step upward? with but little exertion you have walked this distance without becoming wearied, and you could not, without great fatigue, have ascended for so long a period. you are entering a zone of inner earth light; we are in the surface, the upper edge of it. let us hasten on, for when this cavern darkness is at an end--and i will say we have nearly passed that limit--your courage will return, and then we will rest." "you surely do not speak the truth; science and philosophy, and i am somewhat versed in both, have never told me of such a light." "can philosophers more than speculate about that which they have not experienced if they have no data from which to calculate? name the student in science who has reached this depth in earth, or has seen a man to tell him of these facts?" "i can not." "then why should you have expected any of them to describe our surroundings? misguided men will torture science by refuting facts with theories; but a fact is no less a fact when science opposes." [illustration: "seated himself on a natural bench of stone."] i recognized the force of his arguments, and cordially grasped his hand in indication of submission. we continued our journey, and rapidly traveled downward and onward. the light gradually increased in intensity, until at length the cavern near about us seemed to be as bright as diffused daylight could have made it. there was apparently no central point of radiation; the light was such as to pervade and exist in the surrounding space, somewhat as the vapor of phosphorus spreads a self-luminous haze throughout the bubble into which it is blown. the visual agent surrounding us had a permanent, self-existing luminosity, and was a pervading, bright, unreachable essence that, without an obvious origin, diffused itself equally in all directions. it reminded me of the form of light that in previous years i had seen described as epipolic dispersion, and as i refer to the matter i am of the opinion that man will yet find that the same cause produces both phenomena. i was informed now by the sense of sight, that we were in a cavern room of considerable size. the apartment presented somewhat the appearance of the usual underground caverns that i had seen pictured in books, and yet was different. stalactites, stalagmites, saline incrustations, occurring occasionally reminded me of travelers' stories, but these objects were not so abundant as might be supposed. such accretions or deposits of saline substances as i noticed were also disappointing, in that, instead of having a dazzling brilliancy, like frosted snow crystals, they were of a uniform gray or brown hue. indeed, my former imaginative mental creations regarding underground caverns were dispelled in this somber stone temple, for even the floor and the fragments of stone that, in considerable quantities, strewed the floor, were of the usual rock formations of upper earth. the glittering crystals of snowy white or rainbow tints (fairy caverns) pictured by travelers, and described as inexpressibly grand and beautiful in other cavern labyrinths, were wanting here, and i saw only occasional small clusters of quartz crystals that were other than of a dull gray color. finally, after hours or perhaps days of travel, interspersed with restings, conversations, and arguments, amid which i could form no idea of the flight of time, my companion seated himself on a natural bench of stone, and directed me to rest likewise. he broke the silence, and spoke as follows: chapter xvi. vitalized darkness.--the narrows in science. "in studying any branch of science men begin and end with an unknown. the chemist accepts as data such conditions of matter as he finds about him, and connects ponderable matter with the displays of energy that have impressed his senses, building therefrom a span of theoretical science, but he can not formulate as yet an explanation regarding the origin or the end of either mind, matter, or energy. the piers supporting his fabric stand in a profound invisible gulf, into which even his imagination can not look to form a theory concerning basic formations--corner-stones. "the geologist, in a like manner, grasps feebly the lessons left in the superficial fragments of earth strata, impressions that remain to bear imperfect record of a few of the disturbances that have affected the earth's crust, and he endeavors to formulate a story of the world's life, but he is neither able to antedate the records shown by the meager testimony at his command, scraps of a leaf out of god's great book of history, nor to anticipate coming events. the birth, as well as the death, of this planet is beyond his page. "the astronomer directs his telescope to the heavens, records the position of the planets, and hopes to discover the influences worlds exert upon one another. he explores space to obtain data to enable him to delineate a map of the visible solar universe, but the instruments he has at command are so imperfect, and mind is so feeble that, like mockery seems his attempt to study behind the facts connected with the motions and conditions of the nearest heavenly bodies, and he can not offer an explanation of the beginning or cessation of their movements. he can neither account for their existence, nor foretell their end." "are you not mistaken?" i interrupted; "does not the astronomer foretell eclipses, and calculate the orbits of the planets, and has he not verified predictions concerning their several motions?" "yes; but this is simply a study of passing events. the astronomer is no more capable of grasping an idea that reaches into an explanation of the origin of motion, than the chemist or physicist, from exact scientific data, can account for the creation of matter. give him any amount of material at rest, and he can not conceive of any method by which motion can disturb any part of it, unless such motion be mass motion communicated from without, or molecular motion, already existing within. he accounts for the phases of present motion in heavenly bodies, not for the primal cause of the actual movements or intrinsic properties they possess. he can neither originate a theory that will permit of motion creating itself, and imparting itself to quiescent matter, nor imagine how an atom of quiescent matter can be moved, unless motion from without be communicated thereto. the astronomer, i assert, can neither from any data at his command postulate nor prove the beginning nor the end of the reverberating motion that exists in his solar system, which is itself the fragment of a system that is circulating and revolving in and about itself, and in which, since the birth of man, the universe he knows has not passed the first milestone in the road that universe is traveling in space immensity. "the mathematician starts a line from an imaginary point that he informs us exists theoretically without occupying any space, which is a contradiction of terms according to his human acceptation of knowledge derived from scientific experiment, if science is based on verified facts. he assumes that straight lines exist, which is a necessity for his calculation; but such a line he has never made. even the beam of sunshine, radiating through a clear atmosphere or a cloud bank, widens and contracts again as it progresses through the various mediums of air and vapor currents, and if it is ever spreading and deflecting can it be straight? he begins his study in the unknown, it ends with the unknowable. "the biologist can conceive of no rational, scientific beginning to life of plant or animal, and men of science must admit the fact. whenever we turn our attention to nature's laws and nature's substance, we find man surrounded by the infinity that obscures the origin and covers the end. but perseverance, study of nature's forces, and comparison of the past with the present, will yet clarify human knowledge and make plain much of this seemingly mysterious, but never will man reach the beginning or the end. the course of human education, to this day, has been mostly materialistic, although, together with the study of matter, there has been more or less attention given to its moving spirit. newton was the dividing light in scientific thought; he stepped between the reasonings of the past and the provings of the present, and introduced problems that gave birth to a new scientific tendency, a change from the study of matter from the material side to that of force and matter, but his thought has since been carried out in a mode too realistic by far. the study of material bodies has given way, it is true, in a few cases to the study of the spirit of matter, and evolution is beginning to teach men that matter is crude. as a result, thought will in its sequence yet show that modifications of energy expression are paramount. this work is not lost, however, for the consideration of the nature of sensible material, is preliminary and necessary to progression (as the life of the savage prepares the way for that of the cultivated student), and is a meager and primitive child's effort, compared with the richness of the study in unseen energy expressions that are linked with matter, of which men will yet learn." "i comprehend some of this," i replied; "but i am neither prepared to assent to nor dissent from your conclusions, and my mind is not clear as to whether your logic is good or bad. i am more ready to speak plainly about my own peculiar situation than to become absorbed in abstruse arguments in science, and i marvel more at the soft light that is here surrounding us than at the metaphysical reasoning in which you indulge." "the child ignorant of letters wonders at the resources of those who can spell and read, and, in like manner, many obscure natural phenomena are marvelous to man only because of his ignorance. you do not comprehend the fact that sunlight is simply a matter-bred expression, an outburst of interrupted energy, and that the modification this energy undergoes makes it visible or sensible to man. what, think you, becomes of the flood of light energy that unceasingly flows from the sun? for ages, for an eternity, it has bathed this earth and seemingly streamed into space, and space it would seem must have long since have been filled with it, if, as men believe, space contains energy of any description. man may say the earth casts the amount intercepted by it back into space, and yet does not your science teach that the great bulk of the earth is an absorber, and a poor radiator of light and heat? what think you, i repeat, becomes of the torrent of light and heat and other forces that radiate from the sun, the flood that strikes the earth? it disappears, and, in the economy of nature, is not replaced by any known force or any known motion of matter. think you that earth substance really presents an obstacle to the passage of the sun's energy? is it not probable that most of this light producing essence, as a subtle fluid, passes through the surface of the earth and into its interior, as light does through space, and returns thence to the sun again, in a condition not discernible by man?" he grasped my arm and squeezed it as though to emphasize the words to follow. "you have used the term sunshine freely; tell me what is sunshine? ah! you do not reply; well, what evidence have you to show that sunshine (heat and light) is not earth-bred, a condition that exists locally only, the result of contact between matter and some unknown force expression? what reason have you for accepting that, to other forms unknown and yet transparent to this energy, your sunshine may not be as intangible as the ether of space is to man? what reason have you to believe that a force torrent is not circulating to and from the sun and earth, inappreciable to man, excepting the mere trace of this force which, modified by contact action with matter appears as heat, light, and other force expressions? how can i, if this is true, in consideration of your ignorance, enter into details explanatory of the action that takes place between matter and a portion of this force, whereby in the earth, first at the surface, darkness is produced, and then deeper down an earth light that man can perceive by the sense of sight, as you now realize? i will only say that this luminous appearance about us is produced by a natural law, whereby the flood of energy, invisible to man, a something clothed now under the name of darkness, after streaming into the crust substance of the earth, is at this depth, revivified, and then is made apparent to mortal eye, to be modified again as it emerges from the opposite earth crust, but not annihilated. for my vision, however, this central light is not a necessity; my physical and mental development is such that the energy of darkness is communicable; i can respond to its touches on my nerves, and hence i can guide you in this dark cavern. i am all eye." "ah!" i exclaimed, "that reminds me of a remark made by my former guide who, referring to the instinct of animals, spoke of that as a natural power undeveloped in man. is it true that by mental cultivation a new sense can be evolved whereby darkness may become as light?" "yes; that which you call light is a form of sensible energy to which the faculties of animals who live on the surface of the earth have become adapted, through their organs of sight. the sun's energy is modified when it strikes the surface of the earth; part is reflected, but most of it passes onward into the earth's substance, in an altered or disturbed condition. animal organisms within the earth must possess a peculiar development to utilize it under its new form, but such a sense is really possessed in a degree by some creatures known to men. there is consciousness behind consciousness; there are grades and depths of consciousness. earth worms, and some fishes and reptiles in underground streams (lower organizations, men call them) do not use the organ of sight, but recognize objects, seek their food, and flee from their enemies." "they have no eyes," i exclaimed, forgetting that i spoke to an eyeless being; "how can they see?" "you should reflect that man can not offer a satisfactory explanation of the fact that he can see with his eyes. in one respect, these so-called lower creatures are higher in the scale of life than man is, for they see (appreciate) without eyes. the surfaces of their bodies really are sources of perception, and seats of consciousness. man must yet learn to see with his skin, taste with his fingers, and hear with the surface of his body. the dissected nerve, or the pupil of man's eye, offers to the physiologist no explanation of its intrinsic power. is not man unfortunate in having to risk so much on so frail an organ? the physiologist can not tell why or how the nerve of the tongue can distinguish between bitter and sweet, or convey any impression of taste, or why the nerve of the ear communicates sound, or the nerve of the eye communicates the impression of sight. there is an impassable barrier behind all forms of nerve impressions, that neither the microscope nor other methods of investigation can help the reasoning senses of man to remove. the void that separates the pulp of the material nerve from consciousness is broader than the solar universe, for even from the most distant known star we can imagine the never-ending flight of a ray of light, that has once started on its travels into space. can any man outline the bridge that connects the intellect with nerve or brain, mind, or with any form of matter? the fact that the surface of the bodies of some animals is capable of performing the same functions for these animals that the eye of man performs for him, is not more mysterious than is the function of that eye itself. the term darkness is an expression used to denote the fact that to the brain which governs the eye of man, what man calls the absence of light, is unrecognizable. if men were more magnanimous and less egotistical, they would open their minds to the fact that some animals really possess certain senses that are better developed than they are in man. the teachers of men too often tell the little they know and neglect the great unseen. the cat tribe, some night birds, and many reptiles can see better in darkness than in daylight. let man compare with the nerve expanse of his own eye that of the highly developed eye of any such creature, and he will understand that the difference is one of brain or intellect, and not altogether one of optical vision surface. when men are able to explain how light can affect the nerves of their own eyes and produce such an effect on distant brain tissues as to bring to his senses objects that he is not touching, he may be able to explain how the energy in darkness can affect the nerve of the eye in the owl and impress vision on the brain of that creature. should not man's inferior sense of light lead him to question if, instead of deficient visual power, there be not a deficiency of the brain capacity of man? instead of accepting that the eye of man is incapable of receiving the impression of night energy, and making no endeavor to improve himself in the direction of his imperfection, man should reflect whether or not his brain may, by proper cultivation or artificial stimulus, be yet developed so as to receive yet deeper nerve impressions, thereby changing darkness into daylight. until man can explain the modus operandi of the senses he now possesses, he can not consistently question the existence of a different sight power in other beings, and unquestioned existing conditions should lead him to hope for a yet higher development in himself." "this dissertation is interesting, very," i said. "although inclined toward agnosticism, my ideas of a possible future in consciousness that lies before mankind are broadened. i therefore accept your reasoning, perhaps because i can not refute it, neither do i wish to do so. and now i ask again, can not you explain to me how darkness, as deep as that of midnight, has been revivified so as to bring this great cavern to my view?" "that may be made plain at a future time," he answered; "let us proceed with our journey." we passed through a dry, well ventilated apartment. stalactite formations still existed, indicative of former periods of water drippings, but as we journeyed onward i saw no evidence of present percolations, and the developing and erosive agencies that had worked in ages past must long ago have been suspended. the floor was of solid stone, entirely free from loose earth and fallen rocky fragments. it was smooth upon the surface, but generally disposed in gentle undulations. the peculiar, soft, radiant light to which my guide referred as "vitalized darkness" or "revivified sunshine," pervaded all the space about me, but i could not by its agency distinguish the sides of the vast cavern. the brightness was of a species that while it brought into distinctness objects that were near at hand, lost its unfolding power or vigor a short distance beyond. i would compare the effect to that of a bright light shining through a dense fog, were it not that the medium about us was transparent--not milky. the light shrunk into nothingness. it passed from existence behind and about me as if it were annihilated, without wasting away in the opalescent appearance once familiar as that of a spreading fog. moreover, it seemed to detail such objects as were within the compass of a certain area close about me, but to lose in intensity beyond. the buttons on my coat appeared as distinct as they ever did when i stood in the sunlight, and fully one-half larger than i formerly knew them to be. the corrugations on the palms of my hands stood out in bold serpentine relief that i observed clearly when i held my hands near my eye, my fingers appeared clumsy, and all parts of my person were magnified in proportion. the region at the limits of my range of perception reminded me of nothingness, but not of darkness. a circle of obliteration defined the border of the luminous belt which advanced as we proceeded, and closed in behind us. this line, or rather zone of demarkation, that separated the seen from the unseen, appeared to be about two hundred feet away, but it might have been more or less, as i had no method of measuring distances. [illustration: "i was in a forest of colossal fungi."] chapter xvii. the fungus forest.--enchantment. along the chamber through which we now passed i saw by the mellow light great pillars, capped with umbrella-like covers, some of them reminding me of the common toadstool of upper earth, on a magnificent scale. instead, however, of the gray or somber shades to which i had been accustomed, these objects were of various hues and combined the brilliancy of the primary prismatic colors, with the purity of clean snow. now they would stand solitary, like gigantic sentinels; again they would be arranged in rows, the alignment as true as if established by the hair of a transit, forming columnar avenues, and in other situations they were wedged together so as to produce masses, acres in extent, in which the stems became hexagonal by compression. the columnar stems, larger than my body, were often spiral; again they were marked with diamond-shaped figures, or other regular geometrical forms in relief, beautifully exact, drawn as by a master's hand in rich and delicately blended colors, on pillars of pure alabaster. not a few of the stems showed deep crimson, blue, or green, together with other rich colors combined; over which, as delicate as the rarest of lace, would be thrown, in white, an enamel-like intricate tracery, far surpassing in beauty of execution the most exquisite needle-work i had ever seen. there could be no doubt that i was in a forest of colossal fungi, the species of which are more numerous than those of upper earth cryptomatic vegetation. the expanded heads of these great thallogens were as varied as the stems i have described, and more so. far above our path they spread like beautiful umbrellas, decorated as if by masters from whom the great painters of upper earth might humbly learn the art of mixing colors. their under surfaces were of many different designs, and were of as many shapes as it is conceivable could be made of combinations of the circle and hyperbola. stately and picturesque, silent and immovable as the sphinx, they studded the great cavern singly or in groups, reminding me of a grown child's wild imagination of fairy land. i stopped beside a group that was of unusual conspicuity and gazed in admiration on the huge and yet graceful, beautiful spectacle. i placed my hand on the stem of one plant, and found it soft and impressible; but instead of being moist, cold, and clammy as the repulsive toadstool of upper earth, i discovered, to my surprise, that it was pleasantly warm, and soft as velvet. "smell your hand," said my guide. i did so, and breathed in an aroma like that of fresh strawberries. my guide observed (i had learned to judge of his emotions by his facial expressions) my surprised countenance with indifference. "try the next one," he said. this being of a different species, when rubbed by my hand exhaled the odor of the pineapple. "extraordinary," i mused. "not at all. should productions of surface earth have a monopoly of nature's methods, all the flavors, all the perfumes? you may with equal consistency express astonishment at the odors of the fruits of upper earth if you do so at the fragrance of these vegetables, for they are also created of odorless elements." "but toadstools are foul structures of low organization.[ ] they are neither animals nor true vegetables, but occupy a station below that of plants proper," i said. [ ] the fungus polyporus graveolens was neglected by the guide. this fungus exhales a delicate odor, and is used in kentucky to perfume a room. being quite large, it is employed to hold a door open, thus being useful as well as fragrant.--j. u. l. "you are acquainted with this order of vegetation under the most unfavorable conditions; out of their native elements these plants degenerate and become then abnormal, often evolving into the poisonous earth fungi known to your woods and fields. here they grow to perfection. this is their chosen habitat. they absorb from a pure atmosphere the combined foods of plants and animals, and during their existence meet no scorching sunrise. they flourish in a region of perfect tranquillity, and without a tremor, without experiencing the change of a fraction of a degree in temperature, exist for ages. many of these specimens are probably thousands of years old, and are still growing; why should they ever die? they have never been disturbed by a breath of moving air, and, balanced exactly on their succulent, pedestal-like stems, surrounded by an atmosphere of dead nitrogen, vapor, and other gases, with their roots imbedded in carbonates and minerals, they have food at command, nutrition inexhaustible." "still i do not see why they grow to such mammoth proportions." "plants adapt themselves to surrounding conditions," he remarked. "the oak tree in its proper latitude is tall and stately; trace it toward the arctic circle, and it becomes knotted, gnarled, rheumatic, and dwindles to a shrub. the castor plant in the tropics is twenty or thirty feet in height, in the temperate zone it is an herbaceous plant, farther north it has no existence. indian corn in kentucky is luxuriant, tall, and graceful, and each stalk is supplied with roots to the second and third joint, while in the northland it scarcely reaches to the shoulder of a man, and, in order to escape the early northern frost, arrives at maturity before the more southern variety begins to tassel. the common jimson weed (datura stramonium) planted in early spring, in rich soil, grows luxuriantly, covers a broad expanse and bears an abundance of fruit; planted in midsummer it blossoms when but a few inches in height, and between two terminal leaves hastens to produce a single capsule on the apex of the short stem, in order to ripen its seed before the frost appears. these and other familiar examples might be cited concerning the difference some species of vegetation of your former lands undergo under climatic conditions less marked than between those that govern the growth of fungi here and on surface earth. such specimens of fungi as grow in your former home have escaped from these underground regions, and are as much out of place as are the tropical plants transplanted to the edge of eternal snow. indeed, more so, for on the earth the ordinary fungus, as a rule, germinates after sunset, and often dies when the sun rises, while here they may grow in peace eternally. these meandering caverns comprise thousands of miles of surface covered by these growths which shall yet fulfill a grand purpose in the economy of nature, for they are destined to feed tramping multitudes when the day appears in which the nations of men will desert the surface of the earth and pass as a single people through these caverns on their way to the immaculate existence to be found in the inner sphere." "i can not disprove your statement," i again repeated; "neither do i accept it. however, it still seems to me unnatural to find such delicious flavors and delicate odors connected with objects associated in memory with things insipid, or so disagreeable as toadstools and the rank forest fungi which i abhorred on earth." chapter xviii. the food of man. "this leads me to remark," answered the eyeless seer, "that you speak without due consideration of previous experience. you are, or should be, aware of other and as marked differences in food products of upper earth, induced by climate, soil and cultivation. the potato which, next to wheat, rice, or corn, you know supplies nations of men with starchy food, originated as a wild weed in south america and mexico, where it yet exists as a small, watery, marble-like tuber, and its nearest kindred, botanically, is still poisonous. the luscious apple reached its present excellence by slow stages from knotty, wild, astringent fruit, to which it again returns when escaped from cultivation. the cucumber is a near cousin of the griping, medicinal cathartic bitter-apple, or colocynth, and occasionally partakes yet of the properties that result from that unfortunate alliance, as too often exemplified to persons who do not peel it deep enough to remove the bitter, cathartic principle that exists near the surface. oranges, in their wild condition, are bitter, and are used principally as medicinal agents. asparagus was once a weed, native to the salty edges of the sea, and as this weed has become a food, so it is possible for other wild weeds yet to do. buckwheat is a weed proper, and not a cereal, and birds have learned that the seeds of many other weeds are even preferable to wheat. the wild parsnip is a poison, and the parsnip of cultivation relapses quickly into its natural condition if allowed to escape and roam again. the root of the tapioca plant contains a volatile poison, and is deadly; but when that same root is properly prepared, it becomes the wholesome food, tapioca. the nut of the african anacardium (cachew nut) contains a nourishing kernel that is eaten as food by the natives, and yet a drop of the juice of the oily shell placed on the skin will blister and produce terrible inflammations; only those expert in the removal of the kernel dare partake of the food. the berry of the berberis vulgaris is a pleasant acid fruit; the bough that bears it is intensely bitter. such examples might be multiplied indefinitely, but i have cited enough to illustrate the fact that neither the difference in size and structure of the species in the mushroom forest through which we are passing, nor the conditions of these bodies, as compared with those you formerly knew, need excite your astonishment. cultivate a potato in your former home so that the growing tuber is exposed to sunshine, and it becomes green and acrid, and strongly virulent. cultivate the spores of the intra-earth fungi about us, on the face of the earth, and although now all parts of the plants are edible, the species will degenerate, and may even become poisonous. they lose their flavor under such unfavorable conditions, and although some species still retain vitality enough to resist poisonous degeneration, they dwindle in size, and adapt themselves to new and unnatural conditions. they have all degenerated. here they live on water, pure nitrogen and its modifications, grasping with their roots the carbon of the disintegrated limestone, affiliating these substances, and evolving from these bodies rich and delicate flavors, far superior to the flavor of earth surface foods. on the surface of the earth, after they become abnormal, they live only on dead and devitalized organic matter, having lost the power of assimilating elementary matter. they then partake of the nature of animals, breathe oxygen and exhale carbonic acid, as animals do, being the reverse of other plant existences. here they breathe oxygen, nitrogen, and the vapor of water; but exhale some of the carbon in combination with hydrogen, thus evolving these delicate ethereal essences instead of the poisonous gas, carbonic acid. their substance is here made up of all the elements necessary for the support of animal life; nitrogen to make muscle, carbon and hydrogen for fat, lime for bone. this fungoid forest could feed a multitude. it is probable that in the time to come when man deserts the bleak earth surface, as he will some day be forced to do, as has been the case in frozen planets that are not now inhabited on the outer crust; nations will march through these spaces on their way from the dreary outside earth to the delights of the salubrious inner sphere. here then, when that day of necessity appears, as it surely will come under inflexible climatic changes that will control the destiny of outer earth life, these constantly increasing stores adapted to nourish humanity, will be found accumulated and ready for food. you have already eaten of them, for the variety of food with which i supplied you has been selected from different portions of these nourishing products which, flavored and salted, ready for use as food, stand intermediate between animal and vegetable, supplying the place of both." my instructor placed both hands on my shoulders, and in silence i stood gazing intently into his face. then, in a smooth, captivating, entrancing manner, he continued: "can you not see that food is not matter? the material part of bread is carbon, water, gas, and earth; the material part of fat is charcoal and gas; the material part of flesh is water and gas; the material part of fruits is mostly water with a little charcoal and gas.[ ] the material constituents of all foods are plentiful, they abound everywhere, and yet amid the unlimited, unorganized materials that go to form foods man would starve. [ ] by the term gas, it is evident that hydrogen and nitrogen were designated, and yet, since the instructor insists that other gases form part of the atmosphere, so he may consistently imply that unknown gases are parts of food.--j. u. l. "give a healthy man a diet of charcoal, water, lime salts, and air; say to him, 'bread contains no other substance, here is bread, the material food of man, live on this food,' and yet the man, if he eat of these, will die with his stomach distended. so with all other foods; give man the unorganized materialistic constituents of food in unlimited amounts, and starvation results. no! matter is not food, but a carrier of food." "what is food?" "sunshine. the grain of wheat is a food by virtue of the sunshine fixed within it. the flesh of animals, the food of living creatures, are simply carriers of sunshine energy. break out the sunshine and you destroy the food, although the material remains. the growing plant locks the sunshine in its cells, and the living animal takes it out again. hence it is that after the sunshine of any food is liberated during the metamorphosis of the tissues of an animal although the material part of the food remains, it is no longer a food, but becomes a poison, and then, if it is not promptly eliminated from the animal, it will destroy the life of the animal. this material becomes then injurious, but it is still material. "the farmer plants a seed in the soil, the sunshine sprouts it, nourishes the growing plant, and during the season locks itself to and within its tissues, binding the otherwise dead materials of that tissue together into an organized structure. animals eat these structures, break them from higher to lower compounds, and in doing so live on the stored up sunshine and then excrete the worthless material side of the food. the farmer spreads these excluded substances over the earth again to once more take up the sunshine in the coming plant organization, but not until it does once more lock in its cells the energy of sunshine can it be a food for that animal." "is manure a food?" he abruptly asked. "no." "is not manure matter?" "yes." "may it not become a food again, as the part of another plant, when another season passes?" "yes." "in what else than energy (sunshine) does it differ from food?" "water is a necessity," i said. "and locked in each molecule of water there is a mine of sunshine. liberate suddenly the sun energy from the gases of the ocean held in subjection thereby, and the earth would disappear in an explosion that would reverberate throughout the universe. the water that you truly claim to be necessary to the life of man, is itself water by the grace of this same sun, for without its heat water would be ice, dry as dust. 'tis the sun that gives life and motion to creatures animate and substances inanimate; he who doubts distrusts his creator. food and drink are only carriers of bits of assimilable sunshine. when the fire worshipers kneeled to their god, the sun, they worshiped the great food reservoir of man. when they drew the quivering entrails from the body of a sacrificed victim they gave back to their god a spark of sunshine--it was due sooner or later. they builded well in thus recognizing the source of all life, and yet they acted badly, for their god asked no premature sacrifice, the inevitable must soon occur, and as all organic life comes from that sun-god, so back to that creator the sun-spark must fly." "but they are heathen; there is a god beyond their narrow conception of god." "as there is also a god in the beyond, past your idea of god. perhaps to beings of higher mentalities, we may be heathen; but even if this is so, duty demands that we revere the god within our intellectual sphere. let us not digress further; the subject now is food, not the supreme creator, and i say to you the food of man and the organic life of man is sunshine." he ceased, and i reflected upon his words. all he had said seemed so consistent that i could not deny its plausibility, and yet it still appeared altogether unlikely as viewed in the light of my previous earth knowledge. i did not quite comprehend all the semi-scientific expressions, but was at least certain that i could neither disprove nor verify his propositions. my thoughts wandered aimlessly, and i found myself questioning whether man could be prevailed upon to live contentedly in situations such as i was now passing through. in company with my learned and philosophical but fantastically created guardian and monitor, i moved on. chapter xix. the cry from a distance.--i rebel against continuing the journey. as we paced along, meditating, i became more sensibly impressed with the fact that our progress was down a rapid declination. the saline incrustations, fungi and stalagmites, rapidly changed in appearance, an endless variety of stony figures and vegetable cryptogams recurring successively before my eyes. they bore the shape of trees, shrubs, or animals, fixed and silent as statues: at least in my distorted condition of mind i could make out resemblances to many such familiar objects; the floor of the cavern became increasingly steeper, as was shown by the stalactites, which, hanging here and there from the invisible ceiling, made a decided angle with the floor, corresponding with a similar angle of the stalagmites below. like an accompanying and encircling halo the ever present earth-light enveloped us, opening in front as we advanced, and vanishing in the rear. the sound of our footsteps gave back a peculiar, indescribable hollow echo, and our voices sounded ghost-like and unearthly, as if their origin was outside of our bodies, and at a distance. the peculiar resonance reminded me of noises reverberating in an empty cask or cistern. i was oppressed by an indescribable feeling of mystery and awe that grew deep and intense, until at last i could no longer bear the mental strain. "hold, hold," i shouted, or tried to shout, and stopped suddenly, for although i had cried aloud, no sound escaped my lips. then from a distance--could i believe my senses?--from a distance as an echo, the cry came back in the tones of my own voice, "hold, hold." "speak lower," said my guide, "speak very low, for now an effort such as you have made projects your voice far outside your body; the greater the exertion the farther away it appears." i grasped him by the arm and said slowly, determinedly, and in a suppressed tone: "i have come far enough into the secret caverns of the earth, without knowing our destination; acquaint me now with the object of this mysterious journey, i demand, and at once relieve this sense of uncertainty; otherwise i shall go no farther." [illustration: "an endless variety of stony figures."] "you are to proceed to the sphere of rest with me," he replied, "and in safety. beyond that an unknown country lies, into which i have never ventured." "you speak in enigmas; what is this sphere of rest? where is it?" "your eyes have never seen anything similar; human philosophy has no conception of it, and i can not describe it," he said. "it is located in the body of the earth, and we will meet it about one thousand miles beyond the north pole." "but i am in kentucky," i replied; "do you think that i propose to walk to the north pole, man--if man you be; that unreached goal is thousands of miles away." "true," he answered, "as you measure distance on the surface of the earth, and you could not walk it in years of time; but you are now twenty-five miles below the surface, and you must be aware that instead of becoming more weary as we proceed, you are now and have for some time been gaining strength. i would also call to your attention that you neither hunger nor thirst." "proceed," i said, "'tis useless to rebel; i am wholly in your power," and we resumed our journey, and rapidly went forward amid silences that were to me painful beyond description. we abruptly entered a cavern of crystal, every portion of which was of sparkling brilliancy, and as white as snow. the stalactites, stalagmites and fungi disappeared. i picked up a fragment of the bright material, tasted it, and found that it resembled pure salt. monstrous, cubical crystals, a foot or more in diameter, stood out in bold relief, accumulations of them, as conglomerated masses, banked up here and there, making parts of great columnar cliffs, while in other formations the crystals were small, resembling in the aggregate masses of white sandstone. "is not this salt?" i asked. "yes; we are now in the dried bed of an underground lake." "dried bed?" i exclaimed; "a body of water sealed in the earth can not evaporate." "it has not evaporated; at some remote period the water has been abstracted from the salt, and probably has escaped upon the surface of the earth as a fresh water spring." "you contradict all laws of hydrostatics, as i understand that subject," i replied, "when you speak of abstracting water from a dissolved substance that is part of a liquid, and thus leaving the solids." "nevertheless this is a constant act of nature," said he; "how else can you rationally account for the great salt beds and other deposits of saline materials that exist hermetically sealed beneath the earth's surface?" [illustration: "monstrous cubical crystals."] "i will confess that i have not given the subject much thought; i simply accept the usual explanation to the effect that salty seas have lost their water by evaporation, and afterward the salt formations, by some convulsions of nature, have been covered with earth, perhaps sinking by earthquake convulsions bodily into the earth." "these explanations are examples of some of the erroneous views of scientific writers," he replied; "they are true only to a limited extent. the great beds of salt, deep in the earth, are usually accumulations left there by water that is drawn from brine lakes, from which the liberated water often escaped as pure spring water at the surface of the earth. it does not escape by evaporation, at least not until it reaches the earth's surface." interlude--the story interrupted. chapter xx. my unbidden guest proves his statement and refutes my philosophy. let the reader who has followed this strange story which i am directed to title "the end of earth," and who, in imagination, has traversed the cavernous passages of the underworld and listened to the conversation of those two personages who journeyed towards the secrets of the beyond, return now to upper earth, and once more enter my secluded lodgings, the home of llewellen drury, him who listened to the aged guest and who claims your present attention. remember that i relate a story within a story. that importunate guest of mine, of the glittering knife and the silvery hair, like another ancient mariner, had constrained me to listen to his narrative, as he read it aloud to me from the manuscript. i patiently heard chapter after chapter, generally with pleasure, often with surprise, sometimes with incredulity, or downright dissent. much of the narrative, i must say,--yes, most of it, appeared possible, if not probable, as taken in its connected sequence. the scientific sections were not uninteresting; the marvels of the fungus groves, the properties of the inner light, i was not disinclined to accept as true to natural laws; but when the-man-who-did-it came to tell of the intra-earth salt deposits, and to explain the cause of the disappearance of lakes that formerly existed underground, and their simultaneous replacement by beds of salt, my credulity was overstrained. "permit me to interrupt your narrative," i remarked, and then in response to my request the venerable guest laid down his paper. "well?" he said, interrogatively. "i do not believe that last statement concerning the salt lake, and, to speak plainly, i would not have accepted it as you did, even had i been in your situation." "to what do you allude?" he asked. "the physical abstraction of water from the salt of a solution of salt; i do not believe it possible unless by evaporation of the water." "you seem to accept as conclusive the statements of men who have never investigated beneath the surface in these directions, and you question the evidence of a man who has seen the phenomenon. i presume you accept the prevailing notions about salt beds, as you do the assertion that liquids seek a common level, which your scientific authorities also teach as a law of nature?" "yes; i do believe that liquids seek a common level, and i am willing to credit your other improbable statements if you can demonstrate the principle of liquid equilibrium to be untrue." "then," said he, "to-morrow evening i will show you that fluids seek different levels, and also explain to you how liquids may leave the solids they hold in solution without evaporating from them." he arose and abruptly departed. it was near morning, and yet i sat in my room alone pondering the story of my unique guest until i slept to dream of caverns and seances until daylight, when i was awakened by their vividness. the fire was out, the room was cold, and, shivering in nervous exhaustion, i crept into bed to sleep and dream again of horrible things i can not describe, but which made me shudder in affright at their recollection. late in the day i awoke. on the following evening my persevering teacher appeared punctually, and displayed a few glass tubes and some blotting or bibulous paper. "i will first show you that liquids may change their levels in opposition to the accepted laws of men, not contrary to nature's laws; however, let me lead to the experiments by a statement of facts, that, if you question, you can investigate at any time. if two vessels of water be connected by a channel from the bottom of each, the water surfaces will come to a common level." he selected a curved glass tube, and poured water into it. the water assumed the position shown in figure . [illustration: fig. .--a a, water in tube seeks a level.] "you have not shown me anything new," i said; "my text-books taught me this." "true, i have but exhibited that which is the foundation of your philosophy regarding the surface of liquids. let me proceed: "if we pour a solution of common salt into such a u tube, as i do now, you perceive that it also rises to the same level in both ends." "of course it does." "do not interrupt me. into one arm of the tube containing the brine i now carefully pour pure water. you observe that the surfaces do not seek the same level." (figure .) [illustration: fig. .--a, surface of water. b, surface of brine.] "certainly not," i said; "the weight of the liquid in each arm is the same, however; the columns balance each other." "exactly; and on this assumption you base your assertion that connected liquids of the same gravity must always seek a common level, but you see from this test that if two liquids of different gravities be connected from beneath, the surface of the lighter one will assume a higher level than the surface of the heavier." "agreed; however tortuous the channel that connects them, such must be the case." "is it not supposable," said he, "that there might be two pockets in the earth, one containing salt water, the other fresh water, which, if joined together, might be represented by such a figure as this, wherein the water surface would be raised above that of the brine?" and he drew upon the paper the accompanying diagram. (figure .) "yes," i admitted; "providing, of course, there was an equal pressure of air on the surface of each." [illustration: fig. .--b, surface of brine. w, surface of water. s, sand strata connecting them.] "now i will draw a figure in which one pocket is above the other, and ask you to imagine that in the lower pocket we have pure water, in the upper pocket brine (figure ); can you bring any theory of your law to bear upon these liquids so that by connecting them together the water will rise and run into the brine?" [illustration: fig. .--b, brine. w, water. s, sand stratum. (the difference in altitude is somewhat exaggerated to make the phenomenon clear. a syphon may result under such circumstances.--l.)] "no," i replied; "connect them, and then the brine will flow into the water." "upon the contrary," he said; "connect them, as innumerable cavities in the earth are joined, and the water will flow into the brine." "the assertion is opposed to applied philosophy and common sense," i said. "where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise, you know to be a maxim with mortals," he replied; "but i must pardon you; your dogmatic education narrows your judgment. i now will prove you in error." he took from his pocket two slender glass tubes, about an eighth of an inch in bore and four inches in length, each closed at one end, and stood them in a perforated cork that he placed upon the table. into one tube he poured water, and then dissolving some salt in a cup, poured brine into the other, filling both nearly to the top (figure ). next he produced a short curved glass tube, to each end of which was attached a strip of flexible rubber tubing. then, from a piece of blotting paper such as is used to blot ink, he cut a narrow strip and passed it through the arrangement, forming the apparatus represented by figure . [illustration: fig. . a a, glass tubes. f, brine surface. e, water surface.] [illustration: fig. . b, curved glass tube. c c, rubber tubes. d d d, bibulous paper.] then he inserted the two tubes (figure ) into the rubber, the extremities of the paper being submerged in the liquids, producing a combination that rested upright in the cork as shown by figure . the surfaces of both liquids were at once lowered by reason of the suction of the bibulous paper, the water decreasing most rapidly, and soon the creeping liquids met by absorption in the paper, the point of contact, as the liquids met, being plainly discernible. now the old man gently slid the tubes upon each other, raising one a little, so as to bring the surfaces of the two liquids exactly on a plane; he then marked the glass at the surface of each with a pen. "observe the result," he remarked as he replaced the tubes in the cork with their liquid surfaces on a line. together we sat and watched, and soon it became apparent that the surface of the water had decreased in height as compared with that of the brine. by fixing my gaze on the ink mark on the glass i also observed that the brine in the opposing tube was rising. "i will call to-morrow evening," he said, "and we shall then discover which is true, man's theory or nature's practice." within a short time enough of the water in the tube had been transferred to the brine to raise its surface considerably above its former level, the surface of the water being lowered to a greater degree. (figure .) i was discomfited at the result, and upon his appearance next evening peevishly said to the experimenter: "i do not know that this is fair." "have i not demonstrated that, by properly connecting the liquids, the lighter flows into the heavier, and raises itself above the former surface?" "yes; but there is no porous paper in the earth." "true; i used this medium because it was convenient. there are, however, vast subterranean beds of porous materials, stone, sand, clay, various other earths, many of which will answer the same purpose. by perfectly natural laws, on a large scale, such molecular transfer of liquids is constantly taking place within the earth, and in these phenomena the law of gravitation seems ignored, and the rule which man believes from narrow experience, governs the flow of liquids, is reversed. the arched porous medium always transfers the lighter liquid into the heavier one until its surface is raised considerably above that of the light one. in the same way you can demonstrate that alcohol passes into water, sulphuric ether into alcohol, and other miscible light liquids into those heavier." [illustration: fig. . a a, glass tubes. b, curved glass tube. c c, rubber tubes. d, bibulous paper. e, water surface. f, brine surface.] "i have seen you exemplify the statement on a small scale, with water and brine, and can not question but that it is true on a large one," i replied. "so you admit that the assertion governing the surfaces of liquids is true only when the liquids are connected from beneath. in other words, your thought is one-sided, as science thought often is." "yes." [illustration: fig. . e, water surface. f, brine surface.] "now as to the beds of salt deep within the earth. you are also mistaken concerning their origin. the water of the ocean that runs through an open channel from the one side may flow into an underground lake, that by means of the contact action (suction) of the overlying and surrounding strata is being continually emptied of its water, but not its salt. thus by absorption of water the brine of the lake becomes in time saturated, starting crystallization regularly over the floor and sides of the basin. eventually the entire cavity is filled with salt, and a solid mass of rock salt remains. if, however, before the lake becomes solid, the brine supply is shut off by some natural cause as by salt crystals closing the passage thereto, the underground lake is at last drained of its water, the salt crystallizing over the bottom, and upon the cliffs, leaving great crevices through the saline deposits, as chances to have been the case with the salt formations through which i passed with my guide, and have recently described to you." "even now i have my doubts as to the correctness of your explanations, especially concerning the liquid surfaces." "they are facts, however; liquids capable of being mixed, if connected by porous arches (bibulous paper is convenient for illustrating by experiment) reverse the rule men have accepted to explain the phenomena of liquid equilibrium, for i repeat, the lighter one rushes into that which is heavier, and the surface of the heavier liquid rises. you can try the experiment with alcohol and water, taking precautions to prevent evaporation, or you can vary the experiment with solutions of various salts of different densities; the greater the difference in gravity between the two liquids, the more rapid will be the flow of the lighter one into the heavier, and after equilibrium, the greater will be the contrast in the final height of the resultant liquid surfaces." "men will yet explain this effect by natural laws," i said. "yes," he answered; "when they learn the facts; and they will then be able to solve certain phenomena connected with diffusion processes that they can not now understand. did i not tell you that after the fact had been made plain it was easy to see how columbus stood the egg on its end? what i have demonstrated by experiment is perhaps no new principle in hydrostatics. but i have applied it in a natural manner to the explanation of obscure natural phenomena, that men now seek unreasonable methods to explain." "you may proceed with your narrative. i accept that when certain liquids are connected, as you have shown, by means of porous substances, one will pass into the other, and the surface of the lighter liquid in this case will assume a position below that of the heavier." "you must also accept," said he, "that when solutions of salt are subjected to earth attraction, under proper conditions, the solids may by capillary attraction be left behind, and pure water finally pass through the porous medium. were it not for this law, the only natural surface spring water on earth would be brine, for the superficial crust of the earth is filled with saline solutions. all the spring-fed rivers and lakes would also be salty and fetid with sulphur compounds, for at great depths brine and foul water are always present. even in countries where all the water below the immediate surface of the earth is briny, the running springs, if of capillary origin, are pure and fresh. you may imagine how different this would be were it not for the law i have cited, for the whole earth's crust is permeated by brine and saline waters. did your 'philosophy' never lead you to think of this?" continuing, my guest argued as follows: "do not lakes exist on the earth's surface into which rivers and streams flow, but which have no visible outlet? are not such lakes saline, even though the source of supply is comparatively fresh? has it never occurred to you to question whether capillarity assisted by surface evaporation (not evaporation only as men assert) is not separating the water of these lakes from the saline substances carried into them by the streams, thus producing brine lakes? will not this action after a great length of time result in crystalline deposits over portions of the bottoms of such lakes, and ultimately produce a salt bed?" "it is possible," i replied. "not only possible, but probable. not only probable, but true. across the intervening brine strata above the salt crystals the surface rivers may flow, indeed, owing to differences in specific gravity the surface of the lake may be comparatively fresh, while in the quiet depths below, beds of salt crystals are forming, and between these extremes may rest strata after strata of saline solutions, decreasing in gravity towards the top." then he took his manuscript, and continued to read in a clear, musical voice, while i sat a more contented listener than i had been previously. i was not only confuted, but convinced. and i recalled the saying of socrates, that no better fortune can happen a man than to be confuted in an error. my unbidden guest continues reading his manuscript. chapter xxi. my weight disappearing. we halted suddenly, for we came unexpectedly to the edge of a precipice, twenty feet at least in depth. "let us jump down," said my guide. "that would be dangerous," i answered; "can not we descend at some point where it is not so deep?" "no; the chasm stretches for miles across our path, and at this point we will meet with the least difficulty; besides, there is no danger. the specific gravity of our bodies is now so little that we could jump twice that distance with impunity." "i can not comprehend you; we are in the flesh, our bodies are possessed of weight, the concussion will be violent." "you reason again from the condition of your former life, and, as usual, are mistaken; there will be little shock, for, as i have said, our bodies are comparatively light now. have you forgotten that your motion is continuously accelerated, and that without perceptible exertion you move rapidly? this is partly because of the loss of weight. your weight would now be only about fifty pounds if tested by a spring balance." i stood incredulous. "you trifle with me; i weigh over one hundred and fifty pounds; how have i lost weight? it is true that i have noticed the ease with which we have recently progressed on our journey, especially the latter part of it, but i attribute this, in part, to the fact that our course is down an incline, and also to the vitalizing power of this cavern air." "this explains part of the matter," he said; "it answered at the time, and i stated a fact; but were it not that you are really consuming a comparatively small amount of energy, you would long before this have been completely exhausted. you have been gaining strength for some hours; have really been growing younger. your wrinkled face has become more smooth, and your voice is again natural. you were prematurely aged by your brothers on the surface of the earth, in order that when you pass the line of gravity, you might be vigorous and enjoying manhood again. had this aging process not been accomplished you would now have become as a child in many respects." [illustration: "i bounded upward fully six feet."] he halted before me. "jump up," he said. i promptly obeyed the unexpected command, and sprung upward with sufficient force to carry me, as i supposed, six inches from the earth; however i bounded upward fully six feet. my look of surprise as i gently alighted, for there was no concussion on my return, seemed lost on my guide, and he quietly said: "if you can leap six feet upward without excessive exertion, or return shock, can not you jump twenty feet down? look!" [illustration: "i fluttered to the earth as a leaf would fall."] and he leaped lightly over the precipice and stood unharmed on the stony floor below. even then i hesitated, observing which, he cried: "hang by your hands from the edge then, and drop." i did so, and the fourteen feet of fall seemed to affect me as though i had become as light as cork. i fluttered to the earth as a leaf would fall, and leaned against the precipice in surprised meditation. "others have been through your experience," he remarked, "and i therefore can overlook your incredulity; but experiences such as you now meet, remove distrust. doing is believing." he smiled benignantly. [illustration: "we leaped over great inequalities."] i pondered, revolving in my mind the fact that persons had in mental abstraction, passed through unusual experiences in ignorance of conditions about them, until their attention had been called to the seen and yet unnoticed surroundings, and they had then beheld the facts plainly. the puzzle picture (see p. ) stares the eye and impresses the retina, but is devoid of character until the hidden form is developed in the mind, and then that form is always prominent to the eye. my remarkably light step, now that my attention had been directed thereto, was constantly in my mind, and i found myself suddenly possessed of the strength of a man, but with the weight of an infant. i raised my feet without an effort; they seemed destitute of weight; i leaped about, tumbled, and rolled over and over on the smooth stone floor without injury. it appeared that i had become the airy similitude of my former self, my material substance having wasted away without a corresponding impairment of strength.i pinched my flesh to be assured that all was not a dream, and then endeavored to convince myself that i was the victim of delirium; but in vain. too sternly my self-existence confronted me as a reality, a cruel reality. a species of intoxication possessed me once more, and i now hoped for the end, whatever it might be. we resumed our journey, and rushed on with increasing rapidity, galloping hand in hand, down, down, ever downward into the illuminated crevice of the earth. the spectral light by which we were aureoled increased in intensity, as by arithmetical progression, and i could now distinguish objects at a considerable distance before us. my spirits rose as if i were under the influence of a potent stimulant; a liveliness that was the opposite of my recent despondency had gained control, and i was again possessed of a delicious mental sensation, to which i can only refer as a most rapturous exhilaration. my guide grasped my hand firmly, and his touch, instead of revolting me as formerly it had done, gave pleasure. we together leaped over great inequalities in the floor, performing these aerial feats almost as easily as a bird flies. indeed, i felt that i possessed the power of flight, for we bounded fearlessly down great declivities and over abysses that were often perpendicular, and many times our height. a very slight muscular exertion was sufficient to carry us rods of distance, and almost tiptoeing we skimmed with ever-increasing speed down the steeps of that unknown declivity. at length my guide held back; we gradually lessened our velocity, and, after a time, rested beside a horizontal substance that lay before us, apparently a sheet of glass, rigid, immovable, immeasurably great, that stretched as a level surface before us, vividly distinct in the brightness of an earth light, that now proved to be superior to sunshine. far as the eye could reach, the glassy barrier to our further progress spread as a crystal mirror in front, and vanishing in the distance, shut off the beyond. [illustration: "far as the eye could reach the glassy barrier spread as a crystal mirror."] interlude.--the story again interrupted. chapter xxii. my unbidden guest departs. once more i must presume to interrupt this narrative, and call back the reader's thoughts from those mysterious caverns through which we have been tracing the rapid footsteps of the man who was abducted, and his uncouth pilot of the lower realms. let us now see and hear what took place in my room, in cincinnati, just after my visitor, known to us as the-man-who-did-it, had finished reading to me, lewellyn drury, the custodian of this manuscript, the curious chapter relating how the underground explorers lost weight as they descended in the hollows of the earth. my french clock struck twelve of its clear silvery notes before the gray-bearded reader finished his stint for the occasion, and folded his manuscript preparatory to placing it within his bosom. "it is past midnight," he said, "and it is time for me to depart; but i will come to you again within a year. "meanwhile, during my absence, search the records, question authorities, and note such objections as rise therefrom concerning the statements i have made. establish or disprove historically, or scientifically, any portion of the life history that i have given, and when i return i will hear what you have to say, and meet your argument. if there is a doubt concerning the authenticity of any part of the history, investigate; but make no mention to others of the details of our meetings." i sat some time in thought, then said: "i decline to concern myself in verifying the historical part of your narrative. the localities you mention may be true to name, and it is possible that you have related a personal history; but i can not perceive that i am interested in either proving or disproving it. i will say, however, that it does not seem probable that at any time a man can disappear from a community, as you claim to have done, and have been the means of creating a commotion in his neighborhood that affected political parties, or even led to an unusual local excitement, outside his immediate circle of acquaintances, for a man is not of sufficient importance unless he is very conspicuous. by your own admission, you were simply a studious mechanic, a credulous believer in alchemistic vagaries, and as i revolve the matter over, i am afraid that you are now trying to impose on my credulity. the story of a forcible abduction, in the manner you related, seems to me incredible, and not worthy of investigation, even had i the inclination to concern myself in your personal affairs. the statements, however, that you make regarding the nature of the crust of the earth, gravitation, light, instinct, and human senses are highly interesting, and even plausible as you artfully present the subjects, i candidly admit, and i shall take some pains to make inquiries concerning the recorded researches of experts who have investigated in that direction." "collect your evidence," said he, "and i shall listen to your views when i return." he opened the door, glided away, and i was alone again. chapter xxiii. i question scientific men.--aristotle's ether. days and weeks passed. when the opportunity presented, i consulted dr. w. b. chapman, the druggist and student of science, regarding the nature of light and earth, who in turn referred me to prof. daniel vaughn. this learned man, in reply to my question concerning gravitation, declared that there was much that men wished to understand in regard to this mighty force, that might yet be explained, but which may never become known to mortal man. "the correlation of forces," said he, "was prominently introduced and considered by a painstaking scientific writer named joule, in several papers that appeared between and , and he was followed by others, who engaged themselves in experimenting and theorizing, and i may add that joule was indeed preceded in such thought by mayer. this department of scientific study just now appears of unusual interest to scientists, and your questions embrace problems connected with some phases of its phenomena. we believe that light, heat, and electricity are mutually convertible, in fact, the evidences recently opened up to us show that such must be the case. these agencies or manifestations are now known to be so related that whenever one disappears others spring into existence. study the beautiful experiments and remarkable investigations of sir william thomson in these directions." "and what of gravitation?" i asked, observing that prof. vaughn neglected to include gravitation among his numerous enumerated forces, and recollecting that the force gravitation was more closely connected with my visitor's story than perhaps were any of the others, excepting the mysterious mid-earth illumination. "of that force we are in greater ignorance than of the others," he replied. "it affects bodies terrestrial and celestial, drawing a material substance, or pressing to the earth; also holds, we believe, the earth and all other bodies in position in the heavens, thus maintaining the equilibrium of the planets. seemingly gravitation is not derived from, or sustained by, an external force, or supply reservoir, but is an intrinsic entity, a characteristic of matter that decreases in intensity at the rate of the square of the increasing distance, as bodies recede from each other, or from the surface of the earth. however, gravitation neither escapes by radiation from bodies nor needs to be replenished, so far as we know, from without. it may be compared to an elastic band, but there is no intermediate tangible substance to influence bodies that are affected by it, and it remains in undying tension, unlike all elastic material substances known, neither losing nor acquiring energy as time passes. unlike cohesion, or chemical attraction, it exerts its influence upon bodies that are out of contact, and have no material connection, and this necessitates a purely fanciful explanation concerning the medium that conducts such influences, bringing into existence the illogical, hypothetical, fifth ether, made conspicuous by aristotle." "what of this ether?" i queried. "it is a necessity in science, but intangible, undemonstrated, unknown, and wholly theoretical. it is accepted as an existing fluid by scientists, because human theory can not conceive of a substance capable of, or explain how a substance can be capable of affecting a separate body unless there is an intermediate medium to convey force impressions. hence to material substances aristotle added (or at least made conspicuous) a speculative ether that, he assumed, pervades all space, and all material bodies as well, in order to account for the passage of heat and light to and from the sun, stars, and planets." "explain further," i requested. "to conceive of such an entity we must imagine a material that is more evanescent than any known gas, even in its most diffused condition. it must combine the solidity of the most perfect conductor of heat (exceeding any known body in this respect to an infinite degree), with the transparency of an absolute vacuum. it must neither create friction by contact with any substance, nor possess attraction for matter; must neither possess weight (and yet carry the force that produces weight), nor respond to the influence of any chemical agent, or exhibit itself to any optical instrument. it must be invisible, and yet carry the force that produces the sensation of sight. it must be of such a nature that it can not, according to our philosophy, affect the corpuscles of earthly substances while permeating them without contact or friction, and yet, as a scientific incongruity, it must act so readily on physical bodies as to convey to the material eye the sensation of sight, and from the sun to creatures on distant planets it must carry the heat force, thus giving rise to the sensation of warmth. through this medium, yet without sensible contact with it, worlds must move, and planetary systems revolve, cutting and piercing it in every direction, without loss of momentum. and yet, as i have said, this ether must be in such close contact as to convey to them the essence that warms the universe, lights the universe, and must supply the attractive bonds that hold the stellar worlds in position. a nothing in itself, so far as man's senses indicate, the ether of space must be denser than iridium, more mobile than any known liquid, and stronger than the finest steel." "i can not conceive of such an entity," i replied. "no; neither can any man, for the theory is irrational, and can not be supported by comparison with laws known to man, but the conception is nevertheless a primary necessity in scientific study. can man, by any rational theory, combine a vacuum and a substance, and create a result that is neither material nor vacuity, neither something nor nothing, and yet an intensified all; being more attenuated than the most perfect of known vacuums, and a conductor better than the densest metal? this we do when we attempt to describe the scientists' all-pervading ether of space, and to account for its influence on matter. this hypothetical ether is, for want of a better theory of causes, as supreme in philosophy to-day as the alkahest of the talented old alchemist van helmont was in former times, a universal spirit that exists in conception, and yet does not exist in perception, and of which modern science knows as little as its speculative promulgator, aristotle, did. we who pride ourselves on our exact science, smile at some of aristotle's statements in other directions, for science has disproved them, and yet necessity forces us to accept this illogical ether speculation, which is, perhaps, the most unreasonable of all theories. did not this greek philosopher also gravely assert that the lion has but one vertebra in his neck; that the breath of man enters the heart; that the back of the head is empty, and that man has but eight ribs?" "aristotle must have been a careless observer," i said. "yes," he answered; "it would seem so, and science, to-day, bases its teachings concerning the passage of all forces from planet to planet, and sun to sun, on dicta such as i have cited, and no more reasonable in applied experiment." "and i have been referred to you as a conscientious scientific teacher," i said; "why do you speak so facetiously?" "i am well enough versed in what we call science, to have no fear of injuring the cause by telling the truth, and you asked a direct question. if your questions carry you farther in the direction of force studies, accept at once, that, of the intrinsic constitution of force itself, nothing is known. heat, light, magnetism, electricity, galvanism (until recently known as imponderable bodies) are now considered as modifications of force; but, in my opinion, the time will come when they will be known as disturbances." "disturbances of what?" "i do not know precisely; but of something that lies behind them all, perhaps creates them all, but yet is in essence unknown to men." "give me a clearer idea of your meaning." "it seems impossible," he replied; "i can not find words in which to express myself; i do not believe that forces, as we know them (imponderable bodies), are as modern physics defines them. i am tempted to say that, in my opinion, forces are disturbance expressions of a something with which we are not acquainted, and yet in which we are submerged and permeated. aristotle's ether perhaps. it seems to me, that, behind all material substances, including forces, there is an unknown spirit, which, by certain influences, may be ruffled into the exhibition of an expression, which exhibition of temper we call a force. from this spirit these force expressions (wavelets or disturbances) arise, and yet they may become again quiescent, and again rest in its absorbing unity. the water from the outlet of a calm lake flows over a gentle decline in ripples, or quiet undulations, over the rapids in musical laughings, over a precipice in thunder tones,--always water, each a different phase, however, to become quiet in another lake (as ripples in this universe may awaken to our perception, to repose again), and still be water." he hesitated. "go on," i said. "so i sometimes have dared to dream that gravitation may be the reservoir that conserves the energy for all mundane forces, and that what we call modifications of force are intermediate conditions, ripples, rapids, or cascades, in gravitation." "continue," i said, eagerly, as he hesitated. he shook his head. chapter xxiv. the soliloquy of prof. daniel vaughn.--"gravitation is the beginning and gravitation is the end: all earthly bodies kneel to gravitation." "please continue, i am intensely interested; i wish that i could give you my reasons for the desire; i can not do so, but i beg you to continue." "i should add," continued vaughn, ignoring my remarks, "that we have established rules to measure the force of gravitation, and have estimated the decrease of attraction as we leave the surfaces of the planets. we have made comparative estimates of the weight of the earth and planets, and have reason to believe that the force expression of gravitation attains a maximum at about one-sixth the distance toward the center of the earth, then decreases, until at the very center of our planet, matter has no weight. this, together with the rule i repeated a few moments ago, is about all we know, or think we know, of gravitation. gravitation is the beginning and gravitation is the end; all earthly bodies kneel to gravitation. i can not imagine a beyond, and yet gravitation," mused the rapt philosopher, "may also be an expression of--" he hesitated again, forgetting me completely, and leaned his shaggy head upon his hands. i realized that his mind was lost in conjecture, and that he was absorbed in the mysteries of the scientific immensity. would he speak again? i could not think of disturbing his reverie, and minutes passed in silence. then he slowly, softly, reverently murmured: "gravitation, gravitation, thou art seemingly the one permanent, ever present earth-bound expression of omnipotence. heat and light come and go, as vapors of water condense into rain and dissolve into vapor to return again to the atmosphere. electricity and magnetism appear and disappear; like summer storms they move in diversified channels, or even turn and fly from contact with some bodies, seemingly forbidden to appear, but thou, gravitation, art omnipresent and omnipotent. thou createst motion, and yet maintainest the equilibrium of all things mundane and celestial. an attempt to imagine a body destitute of thy potency, would be to bankrupt and deaden the material universe. o! gravitation, art thou a voice out of the beyond, and are other forces but echoes--tremulous reverberations that start into life to vibrate for a spell and die in the space caverns of the universe while thou continuest supreme?" [illustration: "soliloquy of prof. daniel vaughn. 'gravitation is the beginning, and gravitation is the end; all earthly bodies kneel to gravitation.'"] his bowed head and rounded shoulders stooped yet lower; he unconsciously brushed his shaggy locks with his hand, and seemed to confer with a familiar being whom others could not see. "a voice from without," he repeated; "from beyond our realm! shall the subtle ears of future scientists catch yet lighter echoes? will the brighter thoughts of more gifted men, under such furtherings as the future may bring, perchance commune with beings who people immensity, distance disappearing before thy ever-reaching spirit? for with thee, who holdest the universe together, space is not space, and there is no word expressing time. art thou a voice that carriest the history of the past from the past unto and into the present, and for which there is no future, all conditions of time being as one to thee, thy self covering all and connecting all together? art thou, gravitation, a voice? if so, there must be a something farther out in those fathomless caverns, beyond mind imaginings, from which thou comest, for how could nothingness have formulated itself into a voice? the suns and universe of suns about us, may be only vacant points in the depths of an all-pervading entity in which even thyself dost exist as a momentary echo, linked to substances ponderous, destined to fade away in the inter-stellar expanse outside, where disturbances disappear, and matter and gravitation together die; where all is pure, quiescent, peaceful and dark. gravitation, gravitation, imperishable gravitation; thou seemingly art the ever-pervading, unalterable, but yet moving spirit of a cosmos of solemn mysteries. art thou now, in unperceived force expressions, speaking to dumb humanity of other universes; of suns and vortices of suns; bringing tidings from the solar planets, or even infinitely distant star mists, the silent unresolved nebulæ, and spreading before earth-bound mortal minds, each instant, fresh tidings from without, that, in ignorance, we can not read? may not beings, perhaps like ourselves but higher in the scale of intelligence, those who people some of the planets about us, even now beckon and try to converse with us through thy subtle, ever-present self? and may not their efforts at communication fail because of our ignorance of a language they can read? are not light and heat, electricity and magnetism plodding, vacillating agents compared with thy steady existence, and is it even further possible?--" his voice had gradually lowered, and now it became inaudible; he was oblivious to my presence, and had gone forth from his own self; he was lost in matters celestial, and abstractedly continued unintelligibly to mutter to himself as, brushing his hair from his forehead, he picked up his well-worn felt hat, and placed it awkwardly on his shaggy head, and then shuffled away without bidding me farewell. the bent form, prematurely shattered by privation; uncouth, unkempt, typical of suffering and neglect, impressed me with the fact that in him man's life essence, the immortal mind, had forgotten the material part of man. the physical half of man, even of his own being, in daniel vaughn's estimation, was an encumbrance unworthy of serious attention, his spirit communed with the pure in nature, and to him science was a study of the great beyond.[ ] [ ] mr. drury can not claim to have recorded verbatim prof. vaughn's remarks, but has endeavored to give the substance. his language was faultless, his word selections beautiful, his soliloquy impressive beyond description. perhaps drury even misstated an idea, or more than one, evolved then by the great mind of that patient man. prof. daniel vaughn was fitted for a scientific throne, a position of the highest honor; but, neglected by man, proud as a king, he bore uncomplainingly privations most bitter, and suffered alone until finally he died from starvation and neglect in the city of his adoption. some persons are ready to cry, "shame! shame!" at wealthy cincinnati; others assert that men could not give to daniel vaughn, and since the first edition of etidorhpa appeared, the undersigned has learned of one vain attempt to serve the interests of this peculiar man. he would not beg, and knowing his capacities, if he could not procure a position in which to earn a living, he preferred to starve. the only bitterness of his nature, it is said, went out against those who, in his opinion, kept from him such employment as returns a livelihood to scientific men; for he well knew his intellect earned for him such a right in cincinnati. will the spirit of that great man, talented daniel vaughn, bear malice against the people of the city in which none who knew him will deny that he perished from cold and privation? commemorated is he not by a bust of bronze that distorts the facts in that the garments are not seedy and unkempt, the figure stooping, the cheek hollow and the eye pitifully expressive of an empty stomach? that bust modestly rests in the public library he loved so well, in which he suffered so uncomplainingly, and starved so patiently. j. u. l. i embraced the first opportunity that presented itself to read the works that prof. vaughn suggested, and sought him more than once to question further. however, he would not commit himself in regard to the possible existence of other forces than those with which we are acquainted, and when i interrogated him as to possibilities in the study of obscure force expressions, he declined to express an opinion concerning the subject. indeed, i fancied that he believed it probable, or at least not impossible, that a closer acquaintance with conditions of matter and energy might be the heirloom of future scientific students. at last i gave up the subject, convinced that all the information i was able to obtain from other persons whom i questioned, and whose answers were prompt and positive, was evolved largely from ignorance and self-conceit, and such information was insufficient to satisfy my understanding, or to command my attention. after hearing vaughn, all other voices sounded empty. i therefore applied myself to my daily tasks, and awaited the promised return of the interesting, though inscrutable being whose subterranean sojourneying was possibly fraught with so much potential value to science and to man. the unbidden guest returns to read his manuscript. continuing his narrative. chapter xxv. the mother of a volcano.--"you can not disprove, and you dare not admit." a year from the evening of the departure of the old man, found me in my room, expecting his presence; and i was not surprised when he opened the door, and seated himself in his accustomed chair. "are you ready to challenge my statements?" he said, taking up the subject as though our conversation had not been interrupted. "no." "do you accept my history?" "no." "you can not disprove, and you dare not admit. is not that your predicament?" he asked. "you have failed in every endeavor to discredit the truth, and your would-be scientists, much as they would like to do so, can not serve you. now we will continue the narrative, and i shall await your next attempt to cast a shadow over the facts." then with his usual pleasant smile, he read from his manuscript a continuation of the intra-earth journey as follows: "be seated," said my eyeless guide, "and i will explain some facts that may prove of interest in connection with the nature of the superficial crust of the earth. this crystal liquid spreading before us is a placid sheet of water, and is the feeder of the volcano, mount epomeo." "can that be a surface of water?" i interrogated. "i find it hard to realize that water can be so immovable. i supposed the substance before us to be a rigid material, like glass, perhaps." "there is no wind to ruffle this aqueous surface,--why should it not be quiescent? this is the only perfectly smooth sheet of water that you have ever seen. it is in absolute rest, and thus appears a rigid level plane." "grant that your explanation is correct," i said, "yet i can not understand how a quiet lake of water can give rise to a convulsion such as the eruption of a volcano." "not only is this possible," he responded, "but water usually causes the exhibition of phenomena known as volcanic action. the island of ischia, in which the volcanic crater epomeo is situated, is connected by a tortuous crevice with the peaceful pool by which we now stand, and at periods, separated by great intervals of time, the lake is partly emptied by a simple natural process, and a part of its water is expelled above the earth's surface in the form of super-heated steam, which escapes through that distant crater." "but i see no evidence of heat or even motion of any kind." "not here," he replied; "in this place there is none. the energy is developed thousands of miles away, but since the phenomena of volcanic action are to be partially explained to you at a future day, i will leave that matter for the present. we shall cross this lake." i observed as we walked along its edge that the shore of the lake was precipitous in places, again formed a gradually descending beach, and the dead silence of the space about us, in connection with the death-like stillness of that rigid mass of water and its surroundings, became increasingly impressive and awe-inspiring. never before had i seen such a perfectly quiet glass-like surface. not a vibration or undulation appeared in any direction. the solidity of steel was exemplified in its steady, apparently inflexible contour, and yet the pure element was so transparent that the bottom of the pool was as clearly defined as the top of the cavern above me. the lights and shades of the familiar lakes of western new york were wanting here, and it suddenly came to my mind that there were surface reflections, but no shadows, and musing on this extraordinary fact, i stood motionless on a jutting cliff absorbed in meditation, abstractedly gazing down into that transparent depth. without sun or moon, without apparent source of light, and yet perfectly illuminated, the lofty caverns seemed cut by that aqueous plane into two sections, one above and one below a transparent, rigid surface line. the dividing line, or horizontal plane, appeared as much a surface of air as a surface of water, and the material above that plane seemed no more nor less a gas, or liquid, than that beneath it. if two limpid, transparent liquids, immiscible, but of different gravities, be poured into the same vessel, the line of demarkation will be as a brilliant mirror, such as i now beheld parting and yet uniting the surfaces of air and water. lost in contemplation, i unconsciously asked the mental question: "where are the shadows?" my guide replied: "you have been accustomed to lakes on the surface of the earth; water that is illuminated from above; now you see by a light that is developed from within and below, as well as from above. there is no outside point of illumination, for the light of this cavern, as you know, is neither transmitted through an overlying atmosphere nor radiated from a luminous center. it is an inherent quality, and as objects above us and within the lake are illuminated alike from all sides, there can be no shadows." musingly, i said: "that which has occurred before in this journey to the unknown country of which i have been advised, seemed mysterious; but each succeeding step discovers to me another novelty that is more mysterious, with unlooked-for phenomena that are more obscure." "this phenomenon is not more of a mystery than is the fact that light radiates from the sun. man can not explain that, and i shall not now attempt to explain this. both conditions are attributes of force, but with this distinction--the crude light and heat of the sun, such as men experience on the surface of the earth, is here refined and softened, and the characteristic glare and harshness of the light that is known to those who live on the earth's surface is absent here. the solar ray, after penetrating the earth's crust, is tempered and refined by agencies which man will yet investigate understandingly, but which he can not now comprehend." [illustration: "we came to a metal boat."] "am i destined to deal with these problems?" "only in part." "are still greater wonders before us?" "if your courage is sufficient to carry you onward, you have yet to enter the portal of the expanse we approach." "lead on, my friend," i cried; "lead on to these undescribed scenes, the occult wonderland that--" he interrupted me almost rudely, and in a serious manner said: "have you not learned that wonder is an exemplification of ignorance? the child wonders at a goblin story, the savage at a trinket, the man of science at an unexplained manifestation of a previously unperceived natural law; each wonders in ignorance, because of ignorance. accept now that all you have seen from the day of your birth on the surface of the earth, to the present, and all that you will meet here are wonderful only because the finite mind of man is confused with fragments of evidence, that, from whatever direction we meet them, spring from an unreachable infinity. we will continue our journey." proceeding farther along the edge of the lake we came to a metallic boat. this my guide picked up as easily as though it were of paper, for be it remembered that gravitation had slackened its hold here. placing it upon the water, he stepped into it, and as directed i seated myself near the stern, my face to the bow, my back to the shore. the guide, directly in front of me, gently and very slowly moved a small lever that rested on a projection before him, and i gazed intently upon him as we sat together in silence. at last i became impatient, and asked him if we would not soon begin our journey. "we have been on our way since we have been seated," he answered. i gazed behind with incredulity: the shore had disappeared, and the diverging wake of the ripples showed that we were rapidly skimming the water. "this is marvelous," i said; "incomprehensible, for without sail or oar, wind or steam, we are fleeing over a lake that has no current." "true, but not marvelous. motion of matter is a result of disturbance of energy connected therewith. is it not scientifically demonstrated, at least in theory, that if the motion of the spirit that causes the magnetic needle to assume its familiar position were really arrested in the substance of the needle, either the metal would fuse and vaporize or (if the forces did not appear in some other form such as heat, electricity, magnetism, or other force) the needle would be hurled onward with great speed?" chapter xxvi. motion from inherent energy.--"lead me deeper into this expanding study." "i partly comprehend that such would be the case," i said. "if a series of knife blades on pivot ends be set in a frame, and turned edgewise to a rapid current of water, the swiftly moving stream flows through this sieve of metallic edges about as easily as if there were no obstructions. slowly turn the blades so as to present their oblique sides to the current, and an immediate pressure is apparent upon the frame that holds them; turn the blades so as to shut up the space, and they will be torn from their sockets, or the entire frame will be shattered into pieces." "i understand; go on." "the ethereal current that generates the magnetic force passes through material bodies with inconceivable rapidity, and the molecules of a few substances only, present to it the least obstruction. material molecules are edgewise in it, and meet no retardation in the subtle flood. this force is a disturbance of space energy that is rushing into the earth in one form, and out of it in another. but your mind is not yet in a condition to grasp the subject, for at best there is no method of explaining to men that which their experimental education has failed to prepare them to receive, and for which first absolutely new ideas, and next words with new meaning, must be formed. now we, (by we i mean those with whom i am connected) have learned to disturb the molecules in matter so as to turn them partly, or entirely, across the path of this magnetic current, and thus interrupt the motion of this ever-present energy. we can retard its velocity without, however, producing either magnetism (as is the case in a bar of steel), electricity, or heat, but motion instead, and thus a portion of this retarded energy springs into its new existence as motion of my boat. it is force changed into movement of matter, for the molecules of the boat, as a mass, must move onward as the force disappears as a current. perhaps you can accept now that instead of light, heat, electricity, magnetism, and gravitation being really modifications of force they are disturbances." "disturbances of what?" "disturbances of motion." "motion of what?" "motion of itself, pure and simple." "i can not comprehend, i can not conceive of motion pure and simple." "i will explain at a future time so that you can comprehend more clearly. other lessons must come first, but never will you see the end. truth is infinite." continuing, he said: "let me ask if there is anything marvelous in this statement. on the earth's surface men arrest the fitful wind, and by so doing divert the energy of its motion into movement of machinery; they induce it to turn mills and propel vessels. this motion of air is a disturbance, mass motion transmitted to the air by heat, heat in turn being a disturbance or interruption of pure motion. when men learn to interrupt this unperceived stream of energy so as to change directly into material motion the spirit that saturates the universe, and that produces force expressions, as it is constantly rushing from earth into space, and from space back again, they will have at command wherever they may be an endless source of power, light, and heat; mass motion, light and heat being convertible. motion lies behind heat, light, and electricity, and produces them, and so long as the earth revolves on its axis, and circles in its orbit, man needs no light and heat from such indirect sources as combustion. men will, however, yet obtain motion of molecules (heat), and material mass motion as well, from earth motion, without the other dangerous intermediate force expressions now deemed necessary in their production." "do you wish me to understand that on all parts of the earth's surface there is a continual expenditure of energy, an ever-ready current, that is really distinct from the light and heat of the sun, and also that the imponderable bodies that we call heat, light, electricity, and magnetism are not substances at all?" "yes," he replied. "and that this imperceptible something--fluid i will say, for want of a better term--now invisible and unknown to man, is as a medium in which the earth, submerged, floats as a speck of dust in a flood of space?" "certainly," he replied. "am i to infer from your remarks that, in the course of time, man will be able to economize this force, and adapt it to his wants?" "yes." "go on with your exposition, i again beg of you; lead me deeper into this expanding study." "there is but little more that you can comprehend now, as i have said," he answered. "all materials known to man are of coarse texture, and the minds of men are not yet in a condition to comprehend finer exhibitions of force, or of motion modifications. pure energy, in all its modifications, is absolutely unknown to man. what men call heat, gravitation, light, electricity, and magnetism are the grosser attributes attending alterations in an unknown, attenuated, highly developed force producer. they are results, not causes. the real force, an unreached energy, is now flooding all space, pervading all materials. everywhere there exists an infinite sea of motion absolute. since this primeval entity can not now affect matter, as matter is known to man, man's sense can only be influenced by secondary attributes of this energy. unconscious of its all-pervading presence, however, man is working towards the power that will some day, upon the development of latent senses, open to him this new world. then at last he will move without muscular exertion, or the use of heat as an agent of motion, and will, as i am now doing, bridle the motion of space. wherever he may be situated, there will then be warmth to any degree that he wishes, for he will be able to temper the seasons, and mass motion illimitable, also, for this energy, i reiterate, is omnipresent. however, as you will know more of this before long, we will pass the subject for the present." my guide slowly moved the lever. i sat in deep reflection, beginning to comprehend somewhat of his reasoning, and yet my mind was more than clouded. the several ambiguous repetitions he had made since our journey commenced, each time suggesting the same idea, clothing it in different forms of expression, impressed me vaguely with the conception of a certain something for which i was gradually being prepared, and that i might eventually be educated to grasp, but which he believed my mind was not yet ready to receive. i gathered from what he said that he could have given clearer explanations than he was now doing, and that he clothed his language intentionally in mysticism, and that, for some reason, he preferred to leave my mind in a condition of uncertainty. the velocity of the boat increased as he again and again cautiously touched the lever, and at last the responsive craft rose nearly out of the water, and skimmed like a bird over its surface. there was no object in that lake of pure crystal to govern me in calculating as to the rapidity of our motion, and i studied to evolve a method by which i could time our movements. with this object in view i tore a scrap from my clothing and tossed it into the air. it fell at my feet as if in a calm. there was no breeze. i picked the fragment up, in bewilderment, for i had expected it to fall behind us. then it occurred to me, as by a flash, that notwithstanding our apparently rapid motion, there was an entire absence of atmospheric resistance. what could explain the paradox? i turned to my guide and again tossed the fragment of cloth upward, and again it settled at my feet. he smiled, and answered my silent inquiry. "there is a protecting sheet before us, radiating, fan-like, from the bow of our boat as if a large pane of glass were resting on edge, thus shedding the force of the wind. this diaphragm catches the attenuated atmosphere and protects us from its friction." "but i see no such protecting object," i answered. "no; it is invisible. you can not see the obstructing power, for it is really a gyrating section of force, and is colorless. that spray of metal on the brow of our boat is the developer of this protecting medium. imagine a transverse section of an eddy of water on edge before us, and you can form a comparison. throw the bit of garment as far as you can beyond the side of the boat." i did so, and saw it flutter slowly away to a considerable distance parallel with our position in the boat as though in a perfect calm, and then it disappeared. it seemed to have been dissolved. i gazed at my guide in amazement. "try again," said he. [illustration: "the bit of garment fluttered listlessly away to the same distance, and then--vacancy."] i tore another and a larger fragment from my coat sleeve. i fixed my eyes closely upon it, and cast it from me. the bit of garment fluttered listlessly away to the same distance, and then--vacancy. wonders of wonderland, mysteries of the mysterious! what would be the end of this marvelous journey? suspicion again possessed me, and distrust arose. could not my self-existence be blotted out in like manner? i thought again of my new york home, and the recollection of upper earth, and those broken family ties brought to my heart a flood of bitter emotions. i inwardly cursed the writer of that alchemistic letter, and cursed myself for heeding the contents. the tears gushed from my eyes and trickled through my fingers as i covered my face with my hands and groaned aloud. then, with a gentle touch, my guide's hand rested on my shoulder. "calm yourself," he said; "this phenomenon is a natural sequence to a deeper study of nature than man has reached. it is simply the result of an exhibition of rapid motion. you are upon a great underground lake, that, on a shelf of earth substance one hundred and fifty miles below the earth's surface, covers an area of many thousand square miles, and which has an average depth of five miles. we are now crossing it diagonally at a rapid rate by the aid of the force that man will yet use in a perfectly natural manner on the rough upper ocean and bleak lands of the earth's coarse surface. the fragments of cloth disappeared from sight when thrown beyond the influence of our protecting diaphragm, because when they struck the outer motionless atmosphere they were instantly left behind; the eye could not catch their sudden change in motion. a period of time is necessary to convey from eye to mind the sensation of sight. the bullet shot from a gun is invisible by reason of the fact that the eye can not discern the momentary interruption to the light. a cannon ball will compass the field of vision of the eye, moving across it without making itself known, and yet the fact does not excite surprise. we are traveling so fast that small, stationary objects outside our track are invisible." then in a kind, pathetic tone of voice, he said: "an important lesson you should learn, i have mentioned it before. whatever seems to be mysterious, or marvelous, is only so because of the lack of knowledge of associated natural phenomena and connected conditions. all that you have experienced, all that you have yet to meet in your future journey, is as i have endeavored to teach you, in exact accordance with the laws that govern the universe, of which the earth constitutes so small a portion that, were the conditions favorable, it could be blotted from its present existence as quickly as that bit of garment disappeared, and with as little disturbance of the mechanism of the moving universe." i leaned over, resting my face upon my elbow; my thoughts were immethodically wandering in the midst of multiplying perplexities; i closed my eyes as a weary child, and slept. chapter xxvii. sleep, dreams, nightmare.--"strangle the life from my body." i know not how long i sat wrapped in slumber. even if my body had not been wearing away as formerly, my mind had become excessively wearied. i had existed in a state of abnormal mental intoxication far beyond the period of accustomed wakefulness, and had taxed my mental organization beyond endurance. in the midst of events of the most startling description, i had abruptly passed into what was at its commencement the sweetest sleep of my recollection, but which came to a horrible termination. in my dream i was transported once more to my native land, and roamed in freedom throughout the streets of my lost home. i lived over again my early life in virginia, and i seemed to have lost all recollection of the weird journey which i had lately taken. my subsequent connection with the brotherhood of alchemists, and the unfortunate letter that led to my present condition, were forgotten. there came no thought suggestive of the train of events that are here chronicled, and as a child i tasted again the pleasures of innocence, the joys of boyhood. then my dream of childhood vanished, and the scenes of later days spread themselves before me. i saw, after a time, the scenes of my later life, as though i viewed them from a distance, and was impressed with the idea that they were not real, but only the fragments of a dream. i shuddered in my childish dreamland, and trembled as a child would at confronting events of the real life that i had passed through on earth, and that gradually assuming the shape of man approached and stood before me, a hideous specter seemingly ready to absorb me. the peaceful child in which i existed shrunk back, and recoiled from the approaching living man. "away, away," i cried, "you shall not grasp me, i do not wish to become a man; this can not, must not be the horrible end to a sweet existence." gradually the man life approached, seized and enveloped me, closing around me as a jelly fish surrounds its living victim, while the horrors of a nightmare came over my soul. "man's life is a fearful dream," i shouted, as i writhed in agony; "i am still a child, and will remain one; keep off! life of man, away! let me live and die a child." the specter of man's life seized me more firmly as i struggled to escape, and holding me in its irresistible clutch absorbed my substance as a vampire might suck the blood of an infant, and while the childish dream disappeared in that hideous embrace, the miserable man awoke. i found myself on land. the guide, seated at my side, remarked: "you have slept." "i have lived again," i said in bitterness. "you have not lived at all as yet," he replied; "life is a dream, usually it is an unsatisfied nightmare." "then let me dream again as at the beginning of this slumber," i said; "and while i dream as a child, do you strangle the life from my body,--spare me the nightmare, i would not live to reach the life of man." "this is sarcasm," he replied; "you are as changeable as the winds of the earth's surface. now as you are about to approach a part of our journey where fortitude is necessary, behold, you waver as a little child might. nerve yourself; the trials of the present require a steady mind, let the future care for itself; you can not recall the past." i became attentive again; the depressing effects of that repulsive dream rapidly lifted, and wasted away, as i realized that i was a man, and was destined to see more than can be seen in the future of other mortals. this elevation of my spirit was evidently understood by my guide. he turned to the lake, and pointing to its quiet bosom, remarked: "for five hours we have journeyed over this sheet of water at the average rate of nine hundred miles an hour. at the time you threw the fragments of cloth overboard, we were traveling at a speed of not less than twenty miles per minute. you remember that some hours ago you criticised my assertion when i said that we would soon be near the axis of the earth beneath the north pole, and now we are beyond that point, and are about six thousand miles from where we stood at that time." "you must have your way," i replied; "i can not disprove your assertion, but were it not that i have passed through so many marvelous experiences since first we met, i would question the reliability of your information." my guide continued: "the surface of this lake lies as a mirror beneath both the ocean and the land. the force effect that preserves the configuration of the ocean preserves the form of this also, but influences it to a less extent, and the two surfaces lie nearly parallel with each other, this one being one hundred and fifty miles beneath the surface of the earth. the shell of the earth above us is honeycombed by caverns in some places, in others it is compact, and yet, in most places, is impervious to water. at the farther extremity of the lake, a stratum of porous material extends through the space intervening between the bottom of the ocean and this lake. by capillary attraction, assisted by gravitation, part of the water of the ocean is being transferred through this stratum to the underground cavity. the lake is slowly rising." at this remark i interrupted him: "you say the water in the ocean is being slowly transferred down to this underground lake less by gravity than by capillarity." "yes." "i believe that i have reason to question that statement, if you do not include the salt," i replied. "pray state your objections." i answered: "whether a tube be long or short, if it penetrate the bottom of a vessel of brine, and extend downward, the brine will flow into and out of it by reason of its weight." "you mistake," he asserted; "the attraction of the sides of the capillary tube, if the tube is long enough, will eventually separate the water from the salt, and at length a downward flow of water only will result." i again expressed my incredulity. "more than this, by perfectly natural laws the water that is freed from the tubes might again force itself upward perfectly fresh, to the surface of the earth--yes, under proper conditions, above the surface of the ocean." "do you take me for a fool?" i said. "is it not self-evident that a fountain can not rise above its source?" "it often does," he answered. "you trifle with me," i said, acrimoniously. "no," he replied; "i am telling you the truth. have you never heard of what men call artesian wells?" "yes, and" (here i attempted in turn to become sarcastic) "have you never learned that they are caused by water flowing into crevices in uplands where layers of stone or of clay strata separated by sand or gravel slant upward. the water conducted thence by these channels afterwards springs up in the valleys to which it has been carried by means of the crevices in these strata, but it never rises above its source." to my surprise he answered: "this is another of man's scientific speculations, based on some facts, it is true, and now and then correct, but not invariably. the water of an artesian well on an elevated plane may flow into the earth from a creek, pond, or river, that is lower than the mouth of the well it feeds, and still it may spout into the air from either a near or distant elevation that is higher than its source." "i can not admit the truth of this," i said; "i am willing to listen to reason, but such statements as these seem altogether absurd." "as you please," he replied; "we will continue our journey." interlude.--the story interrupted. chapter xxviii. a challenge.--my unbidden guest accepts it. the white-haired reader, in whom i had now become deeply interested, no longer an unwelcome stranger, suspended his reading, laid down his manuscript, and looking me in the face, asked: "are you a believer?" "no," i promptly answered. "what part of the narrative do you question?" "all of it." "have you not already investigated some of the statements i previously made?" he queried. "yes," i said; "but you had not then given utterance to such preposterous expressions." "is not the truth, the truth?" he answered. "you ask me to believe impossibilities," i replied. "name one." "you yourself admit," i said warmly, "that you were incredulous, and shook your head when your guide asserted that the bottom of the ocean might be as porous as a sieve, and still hold water. a fountain can not rise above its source." "it often does, however," he replied. "i do not believe you," i said boldly. "and, furthermore, i assert that you might as reasonably ask me to believe that i can see my own brain, as to accept your fiction regarding the production of light, miles below the surface of the earth." "i can make your brain visible to you, and if you dare to accompany me, i will carry you beneath the surface of the earth and prove my other statement," he said. "come!" he arose and grasped my arm. i hesitated. "you confess that you fear the journey." i made no reply. "well, since you fear that method, i am ready to convince you of the facts by any rational course you may select, and if you wish to stake your entire argument on the general statement that a stream of water can not rise above its head, i will accept the challenge; but i insist that you do not divulge the nature of the experiment until, as you are directed, you make public my story." "of course a fluid can be pumped up," i sarcastically observed. "however, i promise the secrecy you ask." "i am speaking seriously," he said, "and i have accepted your challenge; your own eyes shall view the facts, your own hands prepare the conditions necessary. procure a few pints of sand, and a few pounds of salt; to-morrow evening i will be ready to make the experiment." "agreed; if you will induce a stream of water to run up hill, a fountain to rise above its head, i will believe any statement you may henceforth make." "be ready, then," he replied, "and procure the materials named." so saying he picked up his hat and abruptly departed. these substances i purchased the next day, procuring the silver sand from gordon's pharmacy, corner of eighth and western row, and promptly at the specified time we met in my room. he came, provided with a cylindrical glass jar about eighteen inches high and two inches in diameter (such as i have since learned is called a hydrometer jar), and a long, slender drawn glass tube, the internal diameter of which was about one-sixteenth of an inch. "you have deceived me," i said; "i know well enough that capillary attraction will draw a liquid above its surface. you demonstrated that quite recently to my entire satisfaction." "true, and yet not true of this experiment," he said. "i propose to force water through and out of this tube; capillary attraction will not expel a liquid from a tube if its mouth be above the surface of the supply." he dipped the tip of a capillary tube into a tumbler of water; the water rose inside the tube about an inch above the surface of the water in the tumbler. "capillary attraction can do no more," he said. "break the tube one-eighth of an inch above the water (far below the present capillary surface), and it will not overflow. the exit of the tube must be lower than the surface of the liquid if circulation ensues." he broke off a fragment, and the result was as predicted. then he poured water into the glass jar to the depth of about six inches, and selecting a piece of very thin muslin, about an inch square, turned it over the end of the glass tube, tied it in position, and dropped that end of the tube into the cylinder. "the muslin simply prevents the tube from filling with sand," he explained. then he poured sand into the cylinder until it reached the surface of the water. (see figure .) "your apparatus is simple enough," i remarked, i am afraid with some sarcasm. "nature works with exceeding simplicity," he replied; "there is no complex apparatus in her laboratory, and i copy after nature." then he dissolved the salt in a portion of water that he drew from the hydrant into my wash bowl, making a strong brine, and stirred sand into the brine to make a thick mush. this mixture of sand and brine he then poured into the cylinder, filling it nearly to the top. (see figure , b. the sand settling soon left a layer of brine above it, as shown by a.) i had previously noticed that the upper end of the glass tube was curved, and my surprise can be imagined when i saw that at once water began to flow through the tube, dropping quite rapidly into the cylinder. the lower end of the curve of the glass tube was fully half an inch above the surface of the liquid in the cylinder. i here present a figure of the apparatus. (figure .) the strange man, or man image, i do not know which, sat before me, and in silence we watched the steady flow of water, water rising above its surface and flowing into the reservoir from which it was being continually derived. "do you give up?" he asked. "let me think," i said. "as you please," he replied. "how long will this continue?" i inquired. "until strong salt water flows from the tube." then the old man continued: "i would suggest that after i depart you repeat these experiments. the observations of those interested in science must be repeated time and again by separate individuals. it is not sufficient that one person should observe a phenomenon; repeated experiments are necessary in order to overcome error of manipulation, and to convince others of their correctness. not only yourself, but many others, after this manuscript appears, should go through with similar investigations, varied in detail as mind expansion may suggest. this experiment is but the germ of a thought which will be enlarged upon by many minds under other conditions. an event meteorological may occur in the experience of one observer, and never repeat itself. this is possible. the results of such experiments as you are observing, however, must be followed by similar results in the hands of others, and in behalf of science it is necessary that others should be able to verify your experience. in the time to come it will be necessary to support your statements in order to demonstrate that your perceptive faculties are now in a normal condition. are you sure that your conceptions of these results are justified by normal perception? may you not be in an exalted state of mind that hinders clear perception, and compels you to imagine and accept as fact that which does not exist? do you see what you think you see? after i am gone, and the influences that my person and mind exert on your own mind have been removed, will these results, as shown by my experiments, follow similar experimental conditions? in the years that are to pass before this paper is to be made public, it will be your duty to verify your present sense faculty. this you must do as opportunities present, and with different devices, so that no question may arise as to what will follow when others repeat our experiments. to-morrow evening i will call again, but remember, you must not tell others of this experiment, nor show the devices to them." [illustration: fig. . a, brine. b, sand and brine mixed. c, sand and water.] "i have promised," i answered. he gathered his manuscript and departed, and i sat in meditation watching the mysterious fountain. as he had predicted, finally, after a long time, the flow slackened, and by morning, when i arose from my bed, the water had ceased to drip, and then i found it salty to the taste. the next evening he appeared as usual, and prepared to resume his reading, making no mention of the previous test of my faith. i interrupted him, however, by saying that i had observed that the sand had settled in the cylinder, and that in my opinion his experiment was not true to appearances, but was a deception, since the sand by its greater weight displaced the water, which escaped through the tube, where there was least resistance. "ah," he said, "and so you refuse to believe your own eyesight, and are contriving to escape the deserved penalty; i will, however, acquiesce in your outspoken desire for further light, and repeat the experiment without using sand. but i tell you that mother earth, in the phenomena known as artesian wells, uses sand and clay, pools of mineral waters of different gravities, and running streams. the waters beneath the earth are under pressure, induced by such natural causes as i have presented you in miniature, the chief difference being that the supplies of both salt and fresh water are inexhaustible, and by natural combinations similar to what you have seen; the streams within the earth, if a pipe be thrust into them, may rise continuously, eternally, from a reservoir higher than the head. in addition, there are pressures of gases, and solutions of many salts, other than chloride of soda, that tend to favor the phenomenon. you are unduly incredulous, and you ask of me more than your right after staking your faith on an experiment of your own selection. you demand more of me even than nature often accomplishes in earth structure; but to-morrow night i will show you that this seemingly impossible feat is possible." he then abruptly left the room. the following evening he presented himself with a couple of one-gallon cans, one of them without a bottom. i thought i could detect some impatience of manner as he filled the perfect can (d) with water from the hydrant, and having spread a strip of thin muslin over the mouth of the other can (b), pressed it firmly over the mouth (c) of the can of water, which it fitted tightly, thus connecting them together, the upper (bottomless) can being inverted. then he made a narrow slit in the center of the muslin with his pen-knife, and through it thrust a glass tube like that of our former experiment. next he wrapped a string around the open top of the upper can, crossed it over the top, and tied the glass tube to the center of the cross string. "simply to hold this tube in position," he explained. the remainder of the bag of salt left from the experiment of the preceding evening was then dissolved in water, and the brine poured into the upper can, filling it to the top. then carefully thrusting the glass tube downward, he brought the tip of the curve to within about one-half inch of the surface of the brine, when immediately a rapid flow of liquid exhibited itself. (figure .) [illustration: fig. . a, surface of brine. b, upper can filled with brine. c, necks of cans telescoped. d, lower can full of water.] "it rises above its source without sand," he observed. "i can not deny the fact," i replied, "and furthermore i am determined that i shall not question any subsequent statement that you may make." we sat in silence for some time, and the water ran continuously through the tube. i was becoming alarmed, afraid of my occult guest, who accepted my self-selected challenges, and worked out his results so rapidly; he seemed to be more than human. "i am a mortal, but a resident of a higher plane than you," he replied, divining my thoughts. "is not this experiment a natural one?" "yes," i said. "did not shakspeare write, 'there are more things in heaven and earth, horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'?" "yes," i said. and my guest continued: "he might have added, 'and always will be'." "scientific men will explain this phenomenon," i suggested. "yes, when they observe the facts," he replied, "it is very simple. they can now tell, as i have before remarked, how columbus stood the egg on end; however, given the problem before columbus expounded it, they would probably have wandered as far from the true solution as the mountain with its edgewise layers of stone is from the disconnected artesian wells on a distant sea coast where the underground fresh and salt water in overlying currents and layers clash together. the explanation, of course, is simple. the brine is of greater specific gravity than the pure water; the pressure of the heavier fluid forces the lighter up in the tube. this action continues until, as you will see by this experiment, in the gradual diffusion of brine and pure water the salt is disseminated equally throughout the vessels, and the specific gravity of the mixed liquid becomes the same throughout, when the flow will cease. however, in the earth, where supplies are inexhaustible, the fountain flows unceasingly." chapter xxix. beware of biology, the science of the life of man.[ ] (the old man relates a story as an object lesson.) [ ] the reader is invited to skip this chapter of horrors.--j. u. l. "but you have not lived up to the promise; you have evaded part of the bargain," i continued. "while you have certainly performed some curious experiments in physics which seem to be unique, yet, i am only an amateur in science, and your hydrostatic illustrations may be repetitions of investigations already recorded, that have escaped the attention of the scientific gentlemen to whom i have hitherto applied." "man's mind is a creature of doubts and questions," he observed. "answer one query, and others rise. his inner self is never satisfied, and you are not to blame for wishing for a sign, as all self-conscious conditions of your former existence compel. now that i have brushed aside the more prominent questionings, you insist upon those omitted, and appeal to me to--" he hesitated. "to what?" i asked, curious to see if he had intuitively grasped my unspoken sentence. "to exhibit to you your own brain," he replied. "that is it exactly," i said; "you promised it, and you shall be held strictly to your bargain. you agreed to show me my own brain, and it seems evident that you have purposely evaded the promise." "that i have made the promise and deferred its completion can not be denied, but not by reason of an inability to fulfill the contract. i will admit that i purposely deferred the exhibition, hoping on your own account that you would forget the hasty promise. you would better release me from the promise; you do not know what you ask." "i believe that i ask more than you can perform," i answered, "and that you know it." "let me give you a history," he said, "and then perhaps you will relent. listen. a man once became involved in the study of anatomy. it led him to destruction. he commenced the study in order to learn a profession; he hoped to become a physician. materia medica, pharmacy, chemistry, enticed him at first, but after a time presented no charms. he was a dull student in much that men usually consider essential to the practice of medicine. he was not fitted to be a physician. gradually he became absorbed in two branches, physiology and anatomy. within his mental self a latent something developed that neither himself nor his friends had suspected. this was an increasing desire for knowledge concerning the human body. the insatiable craving for anatomy grew upon him, and as it did so other sections of medicine were neglected. gradually he lost sight of his professional object; he dropped chemistry, materia medica, pharmacy, and at last, morbidly lived only in the aforenamed two branches. "his first visit to the dissecting room was disagreeable. the odor of putrid flesh, the sight of the mutilated bodies repulsed him. when first his hand, warm in life, touched the clammy flesh of a corpse, he shuddered. then when his fingers came in contact with the viscera of a cadaver, that of a little child, he cried out in horror. the demonstrator of anatomy urged him on; he finally was induced to dissect part of the infant. the reflex action on his sensitive mind first stunned, and then warped his senses. his companions had to lead him from the room. 'wash it off, wash it off,' he repeated, trying to throw his hand from his person. 'horrid, horrible, unclean. the child is yet before me,' he insisted. then he went into a fever and raved. 'some mother will meet me on the street and curse me,' he cried. 'that hand is red with the blood of my darling; it has desecrated the innocent dead, and mutilated that which is most precious to a mother. take the hand away, wash it,' he shouted. 'the mother curses me; she demands retribution. better that a man be dead than cursed by a mother whose child has been desecrated.' so the unfortunate being raved, dreaming all manner of horrid imaginings. but at last he recovered, a different man. he returned voluntarily to the dissecting-room, and wrapped himself in the uncouth work. nothing in connection with corpse-mutilation was now offensive or unclean. he threw aside his other studies, he became a slave possessed of one idea. he scarcely took time to dine respectably; indeed, he often ate his lunch in the dissecting-room. the blood of a child was again and again on his fingers; it mattered not, he did not take the trouble to wash it off. 'the liver of man is not more sacred than the liver of a hog,' he argued; 'the flesh of a man is the same as other forms of animal food. when a person dies the vital heat escapes, consciousness is dissipated, and the cold, rigid remains are only animal. consciousness and life are all that is of man--one is force, the other matter; when man dies both perish and are dissipated.' his friends perceived his fondness for dissection, and argued with him again, endeavoring now to overcome his infatuation; he repelled them. 'i learned in my vision,' he said, referring to his fever, 'that pope was right in saying that the "proper study of mankind is man"; i care nothing for your priestly superstitions concerning the dead. these fables are the invention of designing churchmen who live on the superstitions of the ignorant. i am an infidel, and believe in no spirit intangible; that which can be seen, felt, and weighed is, all else is not. life is simply a sensation. all beyond is chimerical, less than fantastic, believed in only by dupes and weak-minded, credulous tools of knaves, or creatures of blind superstition.' he carried the finely articulated, bleached skull of a cadaver to his room, and placed it beside a marble statue that was a valued heirloom, the model of venus of milo. 'both are lime compounds,' he cynically observed, 'neither is better than the other.' his friends protested. 'your superstitious education is at fault,' he answered; 'you mentally clothe one of these objects in a quality it does not deserve, and the thought creates a pleasant emotion. the other, equally as pure, reminds you of the grave that you fear, and you shudder. these mental pulsations are artificial, both being either survivals of superstition, or creations of your own mind. the lime in the skull is now as inanimate as that of the statue; neither object is responsible for its form, neither is unclean. to me, the delicate configuration, the exact articulation, the perfect adaptation for the office it originally filled, makes each bone of this skull a thing of beauty, an object of admiration. as a whole, it gives me pleasure to think of this wonderful, exquisitely arranged piece of mechanism. the statue you admire is in every respect outrivaled by the skull, and i have placed the two together because it pleases me to demonstrate that man's most artistic creation is far inferior to material man. throw aside your sentimental prejudices, and join with me in the admiration of this thing of beauty;' and he toyed with the skull as if it were a work of art. so he argued, and arguing passed from bone to bone, and from organ to organ. he filled his room with abnormal fragments of the human body, and surrounded himself with jars of preserved anatomical specimens. his friends fled in disgust, and he smiled, glad to be alone with his ghastly subjects. he was infatuated in one of the alcoves of science." the old man paused. "shall i proceed?" he asked. "yes," i said, but involuntarily moved my chair back, for i began again to be afraid of the speaker. "at last this scientific man had mastered all that was known concerning physiology and anatomy. he learned by heart the wording of great volumes devoted to these subjects. the human frame became to him as an open book. he knew the articulation of every muscle, could name a bone from a mere fragment. the microscope ceased to be an object of interest, the secrets of pathology and physiology had been mastered. then, unconsciously, he was infected by another tendency; a new thought was destined to dominate his brain. 'what is it that animates this frame? what lies inside to give it life?' he became enthused again: 'the dead body, to which i have given my time, is not the conscious part of man,' he said to himself; 'i must find this thing of life within; i have been only a butcher of the dead. my knowledge is superficial.'" again the old man hesitated and looked at me inquiringly. "shall i proceed?" he repeated. i was possessed by horror, but yet fascinated, and answered determinedly: "go on." "beware," he added, "beware of the science of life." pleadingly he looked at me. "go on," i commanded. he continued: "with the cunning of a madman, this person of profound learning, led from the innocence of ignorance to the heartlessness of advanced biological science, secretly planned to seek the vital forces. 'i must begin with a child, for the life essence shows its first manifestations in children,' he reasoned. he moved to an unfrequented locality, discharged his servants, and notified his former friends that visitors were unwelcome. he had determined that no interruption to his work should occur. this course was unnecessary, however, for now he had neither friends nor visitors. he employed carpenters and artisans, and perfected a series of mechanical tables, beautiful examples of automatic mechanism. from the inner room of that house no cry could be heard by persons outside.... [it will be seen, by referring to the epilogue, that mr. drury agreed to mutilate part of the book. this i have gladly done, excising the heart-rending passages that follow. to use the words of prof. venable, they do not "comport with the general delicacy of the book."--j. u. l.] "hold, old man, cease," i cried aghast; "i have had enough of this. you trifle with me, demon; i have not asked for nightmare stories, heart-curdling accounts of maniacal investigators, who madly pursue their revolting calling, and discredit the name of science." "you asked to see your own brain," he replied. "and have been given a terrible story instead," i retorted. "so men perverted, misconstruing the aim of science, answer the cry of humanity," he said. "one by one the cherished treasures of christianity have been stolen from the faithful. what, to the mother, can replace the babe that has been lost?" "the next world," i answered, "offers a comfort." "bah," he said; "does not another searcher in that same science field tell the mother that there is no personal hereafter, that she will never see her babe again? one man of science steals the body, another man of science takes away the soul, the third annihilates heaven; they go like pestilence and famine, hand in hand, subsisting on all that craving humanity considers sacred, and offering no tangible return beyond a materialistic present. this same science that seems to be doing so much for humanity will continue to elevate so-called material civilization until, as the yeast ferment is smothered in its own excretion, so will science-thought create conditions to blot itself from existence, and destroy the civilization it creates. science is heartless, notwithstanding the personal purity of the majority of her helpless votaries. she is a thief, not of ordinary riches, but of treasures that can not be replaced. before science provings the love of a mother perishes, the hope of immortality is annihilated. beware of materialism, the end of the science of man. beware of the beginning of biological inquiry, for he who commences, can not foresee the termination. i say to you in candor, no man ever engaged in the part of science lore that questions the life essence, realizing the possible end of his investigations. the insidious servant becomes a tyrannical master; the housebreaker is innocent, the horse thief guiltless in comparison. science thought begins in the brain of man; science provings end all things with the end of the material brain of man. beware of your own brain." [illustration: "rising abruptly, he grasped my hand."] "i have no fear," i replied, "that i will ever be led to disturb the creeds of the faithful, and i will not be diverted. i demand to see my brain." "your demand shall now be fulfilled; you have been warned of the return that may follow the commencement of this study; you force the issue; my responsibility ceases. no man of science realized the end when he began to investigate his throbbing brain, and the end of the fabric that science is weaving for man rests in the hidden future. the story i have related is a true one, as thousands of faithful men who unconsciously have been led into infidelity have experienced; and as the faithful followers of sacred teachings can also perceive, who recognize that their religion and the hope of heaven is slipping away beneath the steady inroad of the heartless materialistic investigator, who clothes himself in the garb of science." rising abruptly from his chair, he grasped my hand. "you shall see your brain, man; come." chapter xxx. looking backward.--the living brain. the old man accompanied his word "come," as i have said, by rising from his chair, and then with a display of strength quite out of proportion to his age, he grasped my wrist and drew me toward the door. realizing at once that he intended i should accompany him into the night, i protested, saying that i was quite unprepared. "my hat, at least," i insisted, as he made no recognition of my first demur. "your hat is on your head," he replied. this was true, although i am sure the hat had been previously hung on a rack in a distant part of the room, and i am equally certain that neither my companion nor myself had touched it. leaving me no time for reflection, he opened the door, and drew me through the hall-way and into the gloom. as though perfectly familiar with the city, he guided me from my cozy home, on the retired side street in which i resided, eastwardly into the busy thoroughfare, western row. our course led us down towards the river, past ninth, eighth, seventh streets. now and then a pedestrian stopped to gaze in surprise at the unique spectacle, the old man leading the young one, but none made any attempt to molest us. we passed on in silence, out of the busy part of the thoroughfare and into the shady part of the city, into the darkness below fifth street. here the residences were poorer, and tenement-houses and factories began to appear. we were now in a quarter of the city into which strangers seldom, if ever, penetrated after night, and in which i would not have cared to be found unprotected at any time after sunset, much less in such questionable company. i protested against the indiscretion; my leader made no reply, but drew me on past the flickering gas lights that now and then appeared at the intersection of third, pearl, second, and water streets, until at last we stood, in darkness, on the bank of the ohio river. strange, the ferry-boat at that time of night only made a trip every thirty minutes, and yet it was at the landing as though by appointment. fear began to possess me, and as my thoughts recur to that evening, i can not understand how it was that i allowed myself to be drawn without cry or resistance from my secure home to the ohio river, in such companionship. i can account for the adventure only by the fact that i had deliberately challenged my companion to make the test he was fulfilling, and that an innate consciousness of pride and justice compelled me to permit him to employ his own methods. we crossed the river without speaking, and rapidly ascending the levee we took our course up main street into covington. still in the lead, my aged guide, without hesitation, went onward to the intersection of main and pike streets; thence he turned to the right, and following the latter thoroughfare we passed the old tannery, that i recalled as a familiar landmark, and then started up the hill. onward we strode, past a hotel named "niemeyer's," and soon were in the open country on the lexington pike, treading through the mud, diagonally up the hill back of covington. then, at a sharp curve in the road where it rounded the point of the hill, we left the highway, and struck down the hillside into a ravine that bounded the lower side of the avenue. we had long since left the city lamps and sidewalks behind us, and now, when we left the roadway, were on the muddy pike at a considerable elevation upon the hillside and, looking backward, i beheld innumerable lights throughout the cities of cincinnati, covington, and the village of newport, sparkling away in the distance behind and below us. "come," my companion said again, as i hesitated, repeating the only word he had uttered since telling his horrible story, "come!" down the hill into the valley we plunged, and at last he opened the door of an isolated log cabin, which we entered. he lighted a candle that he drew from his pocket, and together we stood facing each other. "be seated," he said dryly. and then i observed that the cold excuse for furniture in that desolate room consisted of a single rude, hand-made chair with corn-shuck bottom. however, i did not need a second invitation, but sank exhausted and disconsolate upon the welcome object. my companion lost no time, but struck at once into the subject that concerned us, arguing as follows: "one of the troubles with humanity is that of changing a thought from the old to a new channel; to grasp at one effort an entirely new idea is an impossibility. men follow men in trains of thought expression, as in bodily form generations of men follow generations. a child born with three legs is a freak of nature, a monstrosity, yet it sometimes appears. a man possessed of a new idea is an anomaly, a something that may not be impossible, but which has never appeared. it is almost as difficult to conceive of a new idea as it is to create out of nothing a new material or an element. neither thoughts nor things can be invented, both must be evolved out of a preëxisting something which it necessarily resembles. every advanced idea that appears in the brain of man is the result of a suggestion from without. men have gone on and on ceaselessly, with their minds bent in one direction, ever looking outwardly, never inwardly. it has not occurred to them to question at all in the direction of backward sight. mind has been enabled to read the impressions that are made in and on the substance of brain convolutions, but at the same time has been and is insensible to the existence of the convolutions themselves. it is as though we could read the letters of the manuscript that bears them without having conceived of a necessity for the existence of a printed surface, such as paper or anything outside the letters. had anatomists never dissected a brain, the human family would to-day live in absolute ignorance of the nature of the substance that lies within the skull. did you ever stop to think that the mind can not now bring to the senses the configuration, or nature, of the substance in which mind exists? its own house is unknown. this is in consequence of the fact that physical existence has always depended upon the study of external surroundings, and consequently the power of internal sight lies undeveloped. it has never been deemed necessary for man to attempt to view the internal construction of his body, and hence the sense of feeling only advises him of that which lies within his own self. this sense is abstract, not descriptive. normal organs have no sensible existence. thus an abnormal condition of an organ creates the sensation of pain or pleasure, but discloses nothing concerning the appearance or construction of the organ affected. the perfect liver is as vacancy. the normal brain never throbs and aches. the quiescent arm presents no evidence to the mind concerning its shape, size, or color. man can not count his fingers unless some outside object touches them, or they press successively against each other, or he perceives them by sight. the brain of man, the seat of knowledge, in which mind centers, is not perceptible through the senses. does it not seem irrational, however, to believe that mind itself is not aware, or could not be made cognizant, of the nature of its material surroundings?" "i must confess that i have not given the subject a thought," i replied. "as i predicted," he said. "it is a step toward a new idea, and simple as it seems, now that the subject has been suggested, you must agree that thousands of intelligent men have not been able to formulate the thought. the idea had never occurred to them. even after our previous conversation concerning the possibility of showing you your own brain, you were powerless and could not conceive of the train of thought which i started, and along which i shall now further direct your senses." "the eye is so constituted that light produces an impression on a nervous film in the rear of that organ, this film is named the retina, the impression being carried backward therefrom through a magma of nerve fibers (the optic nerve), and reaching the brain, is recorded on that organ and thus affects the mind. is it not rational to suppose it possible for this sequence to be reversed? in other words, if the order were reversed could not the same set of nerves carry an impression from behind to the retina, and picture thereon an image of the object which lies anterior thereto, to be again, by reflex action, carried back to the brain, thus bringing the brain substance itself to the view of the mind, and thus impress the senses? to recapitulate: if the nerve sensation, or force expression, should travel from the brain to the retina, instead of from an outward object, it will on the reverse of the retina produce the image of that which lies behind, and then if the optic nerve carry the image back to the brain, the mind will bring to the senses the appearance of the image depicted thereon." [illustration: "facing the open window he turned the pupils of his eyes upward."] "this is my first consideration of the subject," i replied. "exactly," he said; "you have passed through life looking at outside objects, and have been heedlessly ignorant of your own brain. you have never made an exclamation of surprise at the statement that you really see a star that exists in the depths of space millions of miles beyond our solar system, and yet you became incredulous and scornful when it was suggested that i could show you how you could see the configuration of your brain, an object with which the organ of sight is nearly in contact. how inconsistent." "the chain of reasoning is certainly novel, and yet i can not think of a mode by which i can reverse my method of sight and look backward," i now respectfully answered. "it is very simple; all that is required is a counter excitation of the nerve, and we have with us to-night what any person who cares to consider the subject can employ at any time, and thus behold an outline of a part of his own brain. i will give you the lesson." placing himself before the sashless window of the cabin, which opening appeared as a black space pictured against the night, the sage took the candle in his right hand, holding it so that the flame was just below the tip of the nose, and about six inches from his face. then facing the open window he turned the pupils of his eyes upward, seeming to fix his gaze on the upper part of the open window space, and then he slowly moved the candle transversely, backward and forward, across, in front of his face, keeping it in such position that the flickering flame made a parallel line with his eyes, and as just remarked, about six inches from his face, and just below the tip of his nose. speaking deliberately, he said: "now, were i you, this movement would produce a counter irritation of the retina; a rhythm of the optic nerve would follow, a reflex action of the brain accompanying, and now a figure of part of the brain that rests against the skull in the back of my head would be pictured on the retina. i would see it plainly, apparently pictured or thrown across the open space before me." "incredible!" i replied. "try for yourself," quietly said my guide. placing myself in the position designated, i repeated the maneuver, when slowly a shadowy something seemed to be evolved out of the blank space before me. it seemed to be as a gray veil, or like a corrugated sheet as thin as gauze, which as i gazed upon it and discovered its outline, became more apparent and real. soon the convolutions assumed a more decided form, the gray matter was visible, filled with venations, first gray and then red, and as i became familiar with the sight, suddenly the convolutions of a brain in all its exactness, with a network of red blood venations, burst into existence.[ ] [ ] this experiment is not claimed as original. see purkinje's beiträge zur kenntniss des sehens in subjectiver hinsicht (prague, and ), whose conclusions to the effect that the shadow of the retina is seen, i-am-the-man ignores.--j. u. l. [illustration: "a brain, a living brain, my own brain."] i beheld a brain, a brain, a living brain, my own brain, and as an uncanny sensation possessed me i shudderingly stopped the motion of the candle, and in an instant the shadowy figure disappeared. "have i won the wager?" "yes," i answered. "then," said my companion, "make no further investigations in this direction." "but i wish to verify the experiment," i replied. "although it is not a pleasant test, i can not withstand the temptation to repeat it." and again i moved the candle backward and forward, when the figure of my brain sprung at once into existence. "it is more vivid," i said; "i see it plainer, and more quickly than before." "beware of the science of man, i repeat," he replied; "now, before you are deep in the toils, and can not foresee the end, beware of the science of human biology. remember the story recently related, that of the physician who was led to destruction by the alluring voice." i made no reply, but stood with my face fixed, slowly moving the candle backward and forward, gazing intently into the depths of my own brain. after a time the old man removed the candle from my hand, and said: "do you accept the fact? have i demonstrated the truth of the assertion?" "yes," i replied; "but tell me further, now that you have excited my interest, have i seen and learned all that man can discover in this direction?" "no; you have seen but a small portion of the brain convolutions, only those that lie directly back of the optic nerve. by systematic research, under proper conditions, every part of the living brain may become as plainly pictured as that which you have seen." "and is that all that could be learned?" i asked. "no," he continued. "further development may enable men to picture the figures engraved on the convolutions, and at last to read the thoughts that are engraved within the brains of others, and thus through material investigation the observer will perceive the recorded thought of another person. an instrument capable of searching and illuminating the retina could be easily affixed to the eye of a criminal, after which, if the mind of the person operated upon were stimulated by the suggestion of an occurrence either remote or recent, the mind facility would excite the brain, produce the record, and spread the circumstances as a picture before the observer. the brain would tell its own story, and the investigator could read the truth as recorded in the brain of the other man. a criminal subjected to such an examination could not tell an untruth, or equivocate; his very brain would present itself to the observer." "and you make this assertion, and then ask me to go no further into the subject?" "yes; decidedly yes." "tell me, then, could you not have performed this experiment in my room, or in the dark cellar of my house?" "any one can repeat it with a candle in any room not otherwise lighted, by looking at a blackboard, a blank wall, or black space," he said. i was indignant. "why have you treated me so inhumanly? was there a necessity for this journey, these mysterious movements, this physical exertion? look at the mud with which i am covered, and consider the return trip which yet lies before me, and which must prove even more exhausting?" "ah," he said, "you overdraw. the lesson has been easily acquired. science is not an easy road to travel. those who propose to profit thereby must work circuitously, soil their hands and person, meet discouragements, and must expect hardships, reverses, abuse, and discomfort. do not complain, but thank me for giving you the lesson without other tribulations that might have accompanied it. besides, there was another object in my journey, an object that i have quietly accomplished, and which you may never know. come, we must return." he extinguished the light of the candle, and we departed together, trudging back through the mud and the night.[ ] [ ] we must acquiesce in the explanation given for this seemingly uncalled-for journey, and yet feel that it was unnecessarily exacting. of that wearisome return trip i have nothing to say beyond the fact that before reaching home my companion disappeared in the darkness of a side street, and that the cathedral chimes were playing for three o'clock a.m., as i passed the corner of eighth street and western row. the next evening my visitor appeared as usual, and realizing his complete victory, he made no reference to the occurrences of the previous night. in his usual calm and deliberate manner he produced the roll of manuscript saying benignantly, and in a gentle tone: "do you recollect where i left off reading?" "you had reached that point in your narrative," i answered, "at which your guide had replaced the boat on the surface of the lake." and the mysterious being resumed his reading. the manuscript continued. chapter xxxi. a lesson on volcanoes.--primary colors are capable of farther subdivision. "get into the boat," said my eyeless pilot, "and we will proceed to the farther edge of the lake, over the barrier of which at great intervals of time, the surface water flows, and induces the convulsion known as mount epomeo." we accordingly embarked, and a gentle touch of the lever enabled us rapidly to skirt the shore of the underground sea. the soft, bright, pleasant earth-light continually enveloped us, and the absence of either excessive heat or cold, rendered existence delightful. the weird forms taken by the objects that successively presented themselves on the shore were a source of continual delight to my mind. the motion of our boat was constantly at the will of my guide. now we would skim across a great bay, flashing from point to point; again we wound slowly through tortuous channels and among partly submerged stones. "what a blessing this mode of locomotion would be to humanity," i murmured. "humanity will yet attain it," he replied. "step by step men have stumbled along towards the goal that the light of coming centuries is destined to illuminate. they have studied, and are still engaged in studying, the properties of grosser forces, such as heat and electricity, and they will be led by the thread they are following, to this and other achievements yet unthought of, but which lie back of those more conspicuous." [illustration: "we finally reached a precipitous bluff."] we finally reached a precipitous bluff, that sprung to my view as by magic, and which, with a glass-like surface, stretched upward to a height beyond the scope of my vision, rising straight from the surface of the lake. it was composed of a material seemingly black as jet, and yet when seen under varying spectacular conditions as we skirted its base it reflected, or emitted, most gorgeously the brilliant hues of the rainbow, and also other colors hitherto unknown to me. "there is something unique in these shades; species of color appear that i can not identify; i seem to perceive colors utterly unlike any that i know as the result of deflected, or transmitted, sunlight rays, and they look unlike the combinations of primary colors with which i am familiar." "your observations are true; some of these colors are unknown on earth." "but on the surface of the earth we have all possible combinations of the seven prismatic rays," i answered. "how can there be others here?" "because, first, your primary colors are capable of further subdivision. "second, other rays, invisible to men under usual conditions, also emanate from the sun, and under favorable circumstances may be brought to the sense of sight." "do you assert that the prism is capable of only partly analyzing the sunlight?" "yes; what reason have you to argue that, because a triangular bit of glass resolves a white ray into seven fractions that are, as men say, differently colored, you could not by proper methods subdivide each of these so-called primary shades into others? what reason have you to doubt that rays now invisible to man accompany those capable of impressing his senses, and might by proper methods become perceptible as new colors?" "none," i answered; "only that i have no proof that such rays exist." "but they do exist, and men will yet learn that the term 'primitive' ray, as applied to each of the seven colors of the rainbow, is incorrect. each will yet be resolved, and as our faculties multiply and become more subtle, other colors will be developed, possessed of a delicacy and richness indescribable now, for as yet man can not comprehend the possibilities of education beyond the limits of his present condition." during this period of conversation we skirted the richly colored bluff with a rapid motion, and at last shot beyond it, as with a flash, into seeming vacancy. i was sitting with my gaze directed toward the bluff, and when it instantly disappeared, i rubbed my eyes to convince myself of their truthfulness, and as i did so our boat came gradually to a stand on the edge of what appeared to be an unfathomable abyss. beneath me on the side where had risen the bluff that disappeared so abruptly, as far as the eye could reach, was an absolute void. to our right, and before and behind us, stretched the surface of that great smooth lake on whose bosom we rested. to our left, our boat brushing its rim, a narrow ledge, a continuation of the black, glass-like material, reached only a foot above the water, and beyond this narrow brink the mass descended perpendicularly to seemingly infinite depths. involuntarily i grasped the sides of the boat, and recoiled from the frightful chasm, over which i had been so suddenly suspended, and which exceeded anything of a similar description that i had ever seen. the immeasurable depth of the abyss, in connection with the apparently frail barrier that held the great lake in its bounds, caused me to shudder and shrink back, and my brain reeled in dizzy fright. an inexplicable attraction, however, notwithstanding my dread, held me spell-bound, and although i struggled to shut out that view, the endeavor failed. i seemed to be drawn by an irresistible power, and yet i shuddered at the awful majesty of that yawning gulf which threatened to end the world on which i then existed. fascinated, entranced, i could not help gazing, i knew not how long, down, down into that fathomless, silent profundity. composing myself, i turned a questioning glance on my guide. he informed me that this hard, glass-like dam confined the waters of the slowly rising lake that we were sailing over, and which finally would rise high enough to overflow the barrier. [illustration: "the wall descended perpendicularly to seemingly infinite depths."] "the cycle of the periodic overflow is measured by great intervals," he said; "centuries are required to raise the level of the lake a fraction of an inch, and thousands of years may elapse before its surface will again reach the top of the adamantine wall. then, governed by the law that attracts a liquid to itself, and heaps the teaspoon with liquid, the water of the quiet lake piles upon this narrow wall, forming a ledge along its summit. finally the superimposed surface water gives way, and a skim of water pours over into the abyss." he paused; i leaned over and meditated, for i had now accustomed myself to the situation. "there is no bottom," i exclaimed. "upon the contrary," he answered, "the bottom is less than ten miles beneath us, and is a great funnel-shaped orifice, the neck of the funnel reaching first down and then upward from us diagonally toward the surface of the earth. although the light by which we are enveloped is bright, yet it is deficient in penetrating power, and is not capable of giving the contour of objects even five miles away, hence the chasm seems bottomless, and the gulf measureless." "is it not natural to suppose that a mass of water like this great lake would overflow the barrier immediately, as soon as the surface reached the upper edge, for the pressure of the immense volume must be beyond calculation." "no, for it is height, not expanse, which, as hydrostatic engineers understand, governs the pressure of water. a liquid column, one foot in width, would press against the retaining dam with the force of a body of the same liquid, the same depth, one thousand miles in extent. then the decrease of gravity here permits the molecular attraction of the water's molecules to exert itself more forcibly than would be the case on the surface of the earth, and this holds the liquid mass together more firmly." "see," he observed, and dipping his finger into the water he held it before him with a drop of water attached thereto (figure ), the globule being of considerable size, and lengthened as though it consisted of some glutinous liquid. [illustration: fig. .] "how can a thin stratum of water give rise to a volcanic eruption?" i next queried. "there seems to be no melted rock, no evidence of intense heat, either beneath or about us." "i informed you some time ago that i would partially explain these facts. know then, that the theories of man concerning volcanic eruptions, in connection with a molten interior of the earth, are such as are evolved in ignorance of even the sub-surface of the globe. the earth's interior is to mankind a sealed chamber, and the wise men who elucidate the curious theories concerning natural phenomena occurring therein are forced to draw entirely upon their imagination. few persons realize the paucity of data at the command of workers in science. theories concerning the earth are formulated from so little real knowledge of that body, that our science may be said to be all theory, with scarcely a trace of actual evidence to support it. if a globe ten inches in diameter be covered with a sheet of paper, such as i hold in my hand, the thickness of that sheet will be greater in proportion to that of such a globe than the depth men have explored within the earth is compared with the thickness of the crust of the earth. the outer surface of a pencil line represents the surface of the earth; the inner surface of the line represents the depth of man's explorations; the highest mountain would be represented by a comma resting on the line. the geologist studies the substances that are thrust from the crater of an active volcano, and from this makes conjectures regarding the strata beneath, and the force that casts the excretions out. the results must with men, therefore, furnish evidence from which to explain the cause. it is as though an anatomist would form his idea of the anatomy of the liver by the secretion thrown out of that organ, or of the lung texture by the breath and sputum. in fact, volcanoes are of several descriptions, and usually are extremely superficial. this lake, the surface of which is but one hundred and fifty miles underground, is the mother of an exceptionally deep one. when the water pours over this ledge it strikes an element below us, the metallic base of salt, which lies in great masses in some portions of the earth's crust.[ ] then an immediate chemical reaction ensues, the water is dissociated, intense heat results, part of the water combines with the metal, part is vaporized as steam, while part escapes as an inflammable gas. the sudden liberation of these gases causes an irregular pressure of vapor on the surface of the lake, the result being a throbbing and rebounding of the attenuated atmosphere above, which, in gigantic waves, like swelling tides, dashes great volumes of water over the ledge beside us, and into the depth below. this water in turn reacts on fresh portions of the metallic base, and the reflex action increases the vapor discharges, and as a consequence the chamber we are in becomes a gasholder, containing vapors of unequal gas pressures, and the resultant agitation of the lake from the turmoil continues, and the pulsations are repeated until the surface of the lake is lowered to such a degree as at last to prevent the water from overflowing the barrier. finally the lake quiets itself, the gases slowly disappear by earth absorption, and by escape from the volcanic exit, and for an unrecorded period of time thereafter the surface of the lake continues to rise slowly as it is doing now." [ ] this view is supported in theory by a note i believe to have somewhere seen recorded. elsewhere other bases are mentioned also.--j. u. l. "but what has this phenomenon to do with the volcano?" "it produces the eruption; the water that rushes down into the chasm, partly as steam, partly as gas, is forced onward and upward through a crevice that leads to the old crater of the presumed extinct but periodically active mount epomeo. these gases are intensely heated, and they move with fearful velocity. they tear off great masses of stone, which the resultant energy disturbances, pressure, gas, and friction, redden with heat. the mixture of gases from the decomposed water is in large amount, is burning and exploding, and in this fiery furnace amid such convulsions as have been described, the adjacent earth substance is fused, and even clay is melted, and carried on with the fiery blast. finally the current reaches the earth's surface through the funnel passage, the apex of which is a volcano--the blast described a volcanic eruption." "one thing is still obscure in my mind," i said. "you assert that the reaction which follows the contact of the flowing water and metallic bases in the crevice below us liberates the explosive gases, and also volumes of vapor of water. these gases rush, you say, and produce a volcanic eruption in a distant part of the crust of the earth. i can not understand why they do not rush backward as well, and produce another eruption in kentucky. surely the pressure of a gas in confinement is the same in all directions, is it not?" "yes," he replied, "but the conditions in the different directions are dissimilar. in the direction of the kentucky cavern, the passage is tortuous, and often contracts to a narrow crevice. in one place near the cavern's mouth, as you will remember, we had to dive beneath the surface of a stream of water. that stratum of water as effectually closed the exit from the earth as the stopper prevents water escaping from a bottle. between the point we now occupy and that water stopper, rest thousands of miles of quiescent air. the inertia of a thousand miles of air is great beyond your comprehension. to move that column of air by pushing against this end of it, and thus shoving it instantly out of the other end, would require greater force than would burst the one hundred and fifty miles of inelastic stone above us. then, the friction of the sides is another thing that prevents its accomplishment. while a gradually applied pressure would in time overcome both the inertia of the air and the friction of the stone passages, it would take a supply of energy greater than you can imagine to start into motion the elastic mass that stands as solid and immovable as a sentinel of adamant, between the cavern you entered, and the spot we now occupy. time and energy combined would be able to accomplish the result, but not under present conditions. "in the other direction a broad open channel reaches directly to and connects with the volcanic shaft. through this channel the air is in motion, moving towards the extinct crater, being supplied from another surface orifice. the gases liberated in the manner i have described, naturally follow the line of least resistance. they turn at once away from the inert mass of air that rests behind us, and move with increasing velocity towards the volcanic exit. before the pressure that might be exerted towards the kentucky cavern would have more than compressed the intervening column of air enough to raise the water of a well from its usual level to the surface of the earth, the velocity in the other direction would have augmented prodigiously, and with its increased rapidity a suction would follow more than sufficient to consume the increasingly abundant gases from behind." "volcanoes are therefore local, and the interior of the earth is not a molten mass as i have been taught," i exclaimed. he answered: "if men were far enough along in their thought journey (for the evolution of the mental side of man is a journey in the world of thought), they would avoid such theories as that which ascribes a molten interior to the earth. volcanoes are superficial. they are as a rule, when in activity but little blisters or excoriations upon the surface of the earth, although their underground connections may be extensive. some of them are in a continual fret with frequent eruptions, others, like the one under consideration, awaken only after great periods of time. the entire surface of this globe has been or will be subject to volcanic action. the phenomenon is one of the steps in the world-making, matter-leveling process. when the deposit of substances that i have indicated, and of which much of the earth's interior is composed, the bases of salt, potash, and lime and clay is exhausted, there will be no further volcanic action from this cause, and in some places, this deposit has already disappeared, or is covered deeply by layers of earth that serve as a protection." "is water, then, the universal cause of volcanoes?" "water and air together cause most of them. the action of water and its vapor produces from metallic space dust, limestone, and clay soil, potash and soda salts. this perfectly rational and natural action must continue as long as there is water above, and free elementary bases in contact with the earth bubbles. volcanoes, earthquakes, geysers, mud springs, and hot springs, are the natural result of that reaction. mountains are thereby forming by upheavals from beneath, and the corresponding surface valleys are consequently filling up, either by the slow deposit of the matter from the saline water of hot springs, or by the sudden eruption of a new or presumably extinct volcano." "what would happen if a crevice in the bottom of the ocean should conduct the waters of the ocean into a deposit of metallic bases?" "that often occurs," was the reply; "a volcanic wave results, and a volcano may thus rise from the ocean's depths." "is there any danger to the earth itself? may it not be riven into fragments from such a convulsion?" i hesitatingly questioned. "no; while the configuration of continents is continually being altered, each disturbance must be practically superficial, and of limited area." "but," i persisted, "the rigid, solid earth may be blown to fragments; in such convulsions a result like that seems not impossible." "you argue from an erroneous hypothesis. the earth is neither rigid nor solid." "true," i answered. "if it were solid i could not be a hundred miles beneath its surface in conversation with another being; but there can not be many such cavities as that which we are now traversing, and they can not surely extend entirely through its mass; the great weight of the superincumbent material would crush together the strongest materials, if a globe as large as our earth were extensively honeycombed in this manner." "quite the contrary," he replied; "and here let me, for the first time, enlighten you as to the interior structure of the terrestrial globe. the earth-forming principle consists of an invisible sphere of energy that, spinning through space, supports the space dust which collects on it, as dust on a bubble. by gradual accumulation of substance on that sphere a hollow ball has resulted, on the outer surface of which you have hitherto dwelt. the crust of the earth is comparatively thin, not more than eight hundred miles in average thickness, and is held in position by the central sphere of energy that now exists at a distance about seven hundred miles beneath the ocean level. the force inherent to this sphere manifests itself upon the matter which it supports on both sides, rendering matter the lighter the nearer it lies to the center sphere. in other words, let me say to you: the crust, or shell, which i have just described as being but about eight hundred miles in thickness, is firm and solid on both its convex and concave surface, but gradually loses in weight, whether we penetrate from the outer surface toward the center, or from any point of the inner surface towards the outside, until at the central sphere matter has no weight at all. do you conceive my meaning?" "yes," i replied; "i understand you perfectly." after a pause my pilot asked me abruptly: "what do you most desire?" the question caused my mind to revert instantly to my old home on the earth above me, and although i felt the hope of returning to it spring up in my heart, the force of habit caused me involuntarily to answer, "more light!" "more light being your desire, you shall receive it." obedient to his touch, the bow of the boat turned from the gulf we had been considering towards the center of the lake; the responsive craft leaped forward, and in an instant the obsidian parapet disappeared behind us. on and over the trackless waste of glass-like water we sped, until the dead silence became painfully oppressive, and i asked: "whither are we bound?" "towards the east." the well-timed answer raised my spirits; i thought again that in this man, despite his repulsive shape, i beheld a friend, a brother; suspicion vanished, and my courage rose. he touched the lever, and the craft, subject to his will, nearly rose from the water, and sped with amazing velocity, as was evident from the appearance of the luminous road behind us. so rapid was our flight that the wake of the boat seemed as if made of rigid parallel lines that disappeared in the distance, too quick for the eye to catch the tremor. continuing his conversation, my companion informed me that he had now directed the bark toward a point east of the spot where we struck the shore, after crossing the lake, in order that we might continue our journey downward, diagonally to the under surface of the earth crust. "this recent digression from our journey proper," said he, "has been made to acquaint you with a subject, regarding which you have exhibited a curiosity, and about which you have heretofore been misinformed; now you understand more clearly part of the philosophy of volcanoes and earthquakes. you have yet much to learn in connection with allied phenomena, but this study of the crude exhibition of force-disturbed matter, the manipulation of which is familiar to man under the above names, is an introduction to the more wonderful study destined yet to be a part of your field, an investigation of quiescent matter, and pure motion." "i can not comprehend you," i replied, "as i stated once before when you referred to what you designated as pure motion." chapter xxxii. matter is retarded motion. "it is possible--is it not?--for you to imagine a continuous volley of iron balls passing near you in one line, in a horizontal direction, with considerable velocity. suppose that a pane of glass were to be gradually moved so that a corner of it would be struck by one of the balls; then the entire sheet of glass would be shivered by the concussion, even though the bullet struck but a single spot of glass, the point of contact covering only a small area. imagine now that the velocity of the volley of bullets be increased a thousand fold; then a plate of glass thrust into their track would be smoothly cut, as though with a file that would gnaw its way without producing a single radiating fracture. a person standing near the volley would now hear a deep purr or growling sound, caused by the friction between the bullets and the air. increase gradually the rapidity of their motion, and this growl would become more acute, passing from a deep, low murmur, into one less grave, and as the velocity increased, the tone would become sharper, and at last piercingly shrill. increase now the rapidity of the train of bullets again, and again the notes would decrease in turn, passing back again successively through the several keys that had preceded, and finally would reach the low growl which first struck the ear, and with a further increase of speed silence would ensue, silence evermore, regardless of increasing velocity.[ ] from these hundreds of miles in a second at which the volley is now passing, let the rapidity be augmented a thousand times, reaching in their flight into millions of miles each second, and to the eye, from the point where the sound disappeared, as the velocity increased, a dim redness would appear, a glow just perceptible, indicating to the sense of sight, by a continuous line, the track of the moving missiles. to all appearance, the line would be as uniform as an illuminated pencil mark, even though the several integral bullets of the trail might be separated one from another by miles of space. let a pane of glass now be thrust across their track, and from the point of contact a shower of sparks would fly, and the edges of glass close to either side of the orifice would be shown, on withdrawing the glass, to have been fused. conceive now that the velocity of the bullets be doubled and trebled, again and again, the line of red light becomes brighter, then brilliant, and finally as the velocity increases, at a certain point pure white results, and to man's sense the trail would now be a continuous something, as solid as a bar of metal if at a white heat, and (even if the bullets were a thousand miles apart) man could not bring proof of their separate existence to his senses. that portion of a pane of glass or other substance, even steel or adamant, which should cross its track now would simply melt away, the portion excised and carried out of that pathway neither showing itself as scintillations, nor as fragments of matter. the solid would instantly liquefy, and would spread itself as a thin film over the surface of each ball of that white, hot mass of fleeing metal, now to all essential conditions as uniform as a bar of iron. madly increase the velocity to millions upon millions of miles per second, and the heat will disappear gradually as did the sound, while the bright light will pass backward successively through the primary shades of color that are now known to man, beginning with violet, and ending with red, and as the red fades away the train of bullets will disappear to the sense of man. neither light nor sound now accompanies the volley, neither the human eye nor the human ear can perceive its presence. drop a pane of glass or any other object edgewise through it, and it gives to the sense of man no evidence; the molecules of the glass separate from in front to close in from behind, and the moving train passes through it as freely as light, leaving the surface of the glass unaffected." [ ] a scientific critic seems to think that the shrill cry would cease instantly and not gradually. however, science has been at fault more than once, and i do not care to take liberties with this statement.--j. u. l. "hold," i interrupted; "that would be as one quality of matter passing through another quality of matter without disturbance to either, and it is a law in physics that two substances can not occupy the same space at the same time." "that law holds good as man understands the subject, but bullets are no longer matter. motion of mass was first changed into motion of molecules, and motion of molecule became finally augmented into motion of free force entities as the bullets disintegrated into molecular corpuscles, and then were dissociated, atoms resulting. at this last point the sense of vision, and of touch, ceased to be affected by that moving column (neither matter nor force), and at the next jump in velocity the atoms themselves disappeared, and free intangible motion resulted--nothing, vacancy. "this result is the all-pervading spirit of space (the ether of mankind), as solid as adamant and as mobile as vacuity. if you can reverse the order of this phenomenon, and imagine an irregular retardation of the rapidity of such atomic motion, you can read the story of the formation of the material universe. follow the chain backward, and with the decrease of velocity, motion becomes tangible matter again, and in accordance with conditions governing the change of motion into matter, from time to time the various elements successively appear. the planets may grow without and within, and ethereal space can generate elemental dirt. if you can conceive of an intermediate condition whereby pure space motion becomes partly tangible, and yet is not gross enough to be earthy matter, you can imagine how such forces as man is acquainted with, light, heat, electricity, magnetism, or gravity even are produced, for these are also disturbances in space motion. it should be easily understood that, according to the same simple principle, other elements and unknown forces as well, now imperceptible to man's limited faculties, could be and are formed outside and inside his field of perception." "i fear that i can not comprehend all this," i answered. "so i feared, and perhaps i have given you this lesson too soon, although some time ago you asked me to teach you concerning the assertion that electricity, light, heat, magnetism, and gravity are disturbances, and you said, 'disturbances of what?' think the lesson over, and you will perceive that it is easy. let us hope that the time will come when we will be able to glance beneath the rough, material, earth surface knowledge that man has acquired, and experience the mind expansion that leads to the blissful insight possessed by superior beings who do not have to contend with the rasping elements that encompass all who dwell upon the surface of the earth." i pondered over these words, and a vague light, an undefined, inexpressible something that i could not put into words broke into my mind; i inferred that we were destined to meet with persons, or existences, possessed of new senses, of a mind development that man had not reached, and i was on the point of questioning my pilot when the motion of the boat was suspended, land appeared ahead, we drew up to it, and disembarked. lifting the boat from the water my guide placed it on land at the edge of the motionless lake, and we resumed our journey. the scenery seemed but little changed from that of the latter part of our previous line of travel down the inclined plane of the opposite side of the lake that we had crossed. the direction was still downward after leaving the high ridge that bordered the edge of the lake, the floor of the cavern being usually smooth, although occasionally it was rough and covered with stony debris. the mysterious light grew perceptibly brighter as we progressed, the fog-like halo previously mentioned became less dense, and the ring of obscurity widened rapidly. i could distinctly perceive objects at a great distance. i turned to my companion to ask why this was, and he replied: "because we are leaving one of the undiscovered conditions of the upper atmosphere that disturbs the sunlight." "do you say that the atmosphere is composed of substances unknown to man?" "yes; several of them are gases, and others are qualities of space condition, neither gas, liquid, nor solid.[ ] one particularly interferes with light in its passage. it is an entity that is not moved by the motion of the air, and is unequally distributed over the earth's surface. as we ascend above the earth it decreases, so it does as we descend into it. it is not vapor of water, is neither smoke, nor a true gas, and is as yet sensible to man only by its power of modifying the intensity of light. it has no color, is chemically inactive, and yet modifies the sun's rays so as to blot objects from view at a comparatively small distance from a person on the face of the earth. that this fact is known to man is evident from the knowledge he possesses of the difference in the power of his organs of vision at different parts of the earth. his sight is especially acute on the table lands of the western territories." [ ] this has since been partly supported by the discovery of the element argon. however, the statement has been recorded many years. miss ella burbige, stenographer, newport, ky., copied the original in ; mr. s. d. rouse, attorney, covington, ky., read it in ; mr. russell errett, editor of the christian standard, in , and mr. h. c. meader, president of the american ticket brokers' association, in . it seems proper to make this explanation in order to absolve the author from any charge of plagiarism, for each of these persons will recall distinctly this improbable [then] assertion.--j. u. l. "i have been told," i answered, "that vapor of water causes this obscuration, or absorption, of light." "vapor of water, unless in strata of different densities, is absolutely transparent, and presents no obstacle to the passage of light," he said. "when vapor obstructs light it is owing to impurities contained in it, to currents of varying densities, or wave motions, or to a mechanical mixture of condensed water and air, whereby multitudes of tiny globular water surfaces are produced. pure vapor of water, free from motion, is passive to the sunlight." "i can scarcely believe that a substance such as you describe, or that any constituent of the air, can have escaped the perception of the chemist," i replied. in, as i thought, a facetious manner he repeated after me the word "chemist," and continued: "have chemists detected the ether of aristotle, that you have mentioned, and i have defined, which scientists nevertheless accept pervades all space and every description of matter, and that i have told you is really matter itself changed into ultra atomic motion? have chemists explained why one object is transparent, and another of equal weight and solidity is opaque? have chemists told you why vermillion is red and indigo is blue (the statement that they respectively reflect these rays of light is not an explanation of the cause for such action)? have chemists told you why the prism disarranges or distorts sunlight to produce the abnormal hues that men assume compose elementary rays of light? have chemists explained anything concerning the why or wherefore of the attributes of matter, or force, or even proven that the so-called primary forms of matter, or elements, are not compounds? upon the contrary, does not the evolution that results in the recorded discoveries of the chemist foretell, or at least indicate, the possible future of the art, and promise that surrounding mysteries are yet to be developed and expanded into open truths, thus elaborating hidden forces; and that other forms of matter and unseen force expressions, are destined to spring into existence as the sciences progress? the chemist of to-day is groping in darkness; he is a novice as compared with the elaborated chemist of the near future; the imperfectly seen of the present, the silent and unsuspected, will become distinctly visible in a time that is to come, and a brightening of the intellect by these successively upward steps, up stairs of science, will, if science serves herself best, broaden the mind and give power to the imagination, resulting finally in--" he hesitated. "go on," i said. "the passage of mortal man, with the faculties of man intact, into communion with the spirit world." chapter xxxiii. "a study of science is a study of god."--communing with angels. "this is incredible," i exclaimed. "you need not be astonished," he answered. "is there any argument that can be offered to controvert the assertion that man is ignorant of many natural laws?" "i can offer none." "is there any doubt that a force, distinct and separate from matter, influences matter and vivifies it into a living personality?" "i do not deny that there is such force." "what then should prevent this force from existing separate from the body if it be capable of existing in it?" "i can not argue against such a position." "if, as is hoped and believed by the majority of mankind, even though some try to deny the fact, it is possible for man to exist as an association of earth matters, linked to a personal spirit force, the soul, and for the spirit force, after the death of the body, to exist independent of the grosser attributes of man, free from his mortal body, is it not reasonable to infer that the spirit, while it is still in man and linked to his body, may be educated and developed so as, under favorable conditions, to meet and communicate with other spirits that have been previously liberated from earthly bondage?" "i submit," i answered; "but you shock my sensibilities when you thus imply that by cold, scientific investigation we can place ourselves in a position to meet the unseen spirit world--" it was now my turn to hesitate. "go on," he said. "to commune with the angels," i answered. "a study of true science is a study of god," he continued. "angels are organizations natural in accordance with god's laws. they appear superhuman, because of our ignorance concerning the higher natural forces. they exist in exact accordance with the laws that govern the universe; but as yet the attraction between clay and clay-bound spirit is so great as to prevent the enthralled soul of man from communicating with them. the faith of the religionist is an example of the unquenchable feeling that creates a belief as well as a hope that there is a self-existence separate from earthy substances. the scoffing scientific agnostic, working for other objects, will yet astonish himself by elaborating a method that will practically demonstrate these facts, and then empirical religion, as exemplified by the unquestioning faithful believer, and systematic science, as typified in the experimental materialist, will meet on common ground." chapter xxxiv. i cease to breathe, and yet live. during this conversation we had been rapidly walking, or i should better say advancing, for we no longer walked as men do, but skipped down into the earth, down, ever downward. there were long periods of silence, in which i was engaged in meditating over the problems that successively demanded solution, and even had i desired to do so i could have kept no record of time; days, or even weeks, may have been consumed in this journey. neither have i any method of judging of the rapidity of our motion. i was sensible of a marked decrease in the amount of muscular energy required to carry us onward, and i realized that my body was quite exempt from weariness. motion became restful instead of exhausting, and it seemed to me that the ratio of the loss of weight, as shown by our free movements, in proportion to the distance we traversed, was greater than formerly. the slightest exhibition of propelling force cast us rapidly forward. instead of the laborious, short step of upper earth, a single leap would carry us many yards. a slight spring, and with our bodies in space, we would skip several rods, alighting gently, to move again as easily. i marveled, for, although i had been led to anticipate something unusual, the practical evidence was wonderfully impressive, and i again questioned my guide. "we are now nearing what physicists would call the center of gravity," he replied, "and our weight is rapidly diminishing. this is in exact accordance with the laws that govern the force called gravitation, which, at the earth's surface, is apparently uniform, though no instrument known to man can demonstrate its exact variation within the field man occupies. men have not, as yet, been in a position to estimate this change, although it is known that mountains attract objects, and that a change in weight as we descend into the earth is perceptible; but to evolve the true law, observation, at a distance of at least ten miles beneath the surface of the ocean is necessary, and man, being a creature whose motions are confined to a thin, horizontal skin of earth, has never been one mile beneath its surface, and in consequence his opportunities for comparison are extremely limited." [illustration: "we would skip several rods, alighting gently."] "i have been taught," i replied, "that the force of gravitation decreases until the center of the earth is reached, at which point a body is without weight; and i can scarcely understand how such positive statements from scientific men can be far from the truth." "it is supposed by your surface men that the maximum of weight is to be found at one-sixth the distance beneath the surface of the earth, and therefrom decreases until at the center it is nothing at all," he replied. "this hypothesis, though a stagger toward the right, is far from the truth, but as near as could be expected, when we consider the data upon which men base their calculations. were it not for the purpose of controverting erroneous views, men would have little incentive to continue their investigations, and as has been the rule in science heretofore, the truth will, in time, appear in this case. one generation of students disproves the accepted theories of that which precedes, all working to eliminate error, all adding factors of error, and all together moving toward a common goal, a grand generalization, that as yet can not be perceived. and still each series of workers is overlooking phenomena that, though obvious, are yet unperceived, but which will make evident to future scientists the mistakes of the present. as an example of the manner in which facts are thus overlooked, in your journey you have been impressed with certain surprising external conditions, or surroundings, and yet are oblivious to conditions more remarkable in your own body. so it is with scientists. they overlook prominent facts that stare them boldly in the face, facts that are so conspicuous as to be invisible by reason of their very nearness." "this statement i can not disprove, and therefore must admit under protest. where there is so much that appears mysterious i may have overlooked some things, but i can scarcely accept that, in ignorance, i have passed conditions in my own organization so marked as this decrease in gravity which has so strikingly been called to my attention." "you have, and to convince you i need only say that you have nearly ceased to breathe, and are unconscious of the fact." i stopped short, in momentary alarm, and now that my mind was directed to the fact, i became aware that i did not desire to breathe, and that my chest had ceased to heave with the alternate inhalation and exhalation of former times. i closed my lips firmly, and for a long period there was no desire for breath, then a slight involuntary inhalation followed, and an exhalation, scarcely noticeable, succeeded by a great interval of inaction. i impulsively turned my face toward the passage we had trod; a feeling of alarm possessed me, an uncontrollable, inexpressible desire to flee from the mysterious earth-being beside me, to return to men, and be an earth-surface man again, and i started backward through the chamber we had passed. the guide seized me by the hand, "hold, hold," he cried; "where would you go, fickle mortal?" "to the surface," i shouted; "to daylight again. unhand me, unearthly creature, abnormal being, man or devil; have you not inveigled me far enough into occult realms that should be forever sealed from mankind? have you not taken from me all that men love or cherish, and undone every tie of kith or kin? have you not led me into paths that the imagination of the novelist dare not conjure, and into experiences that pen in human hand would not venture to describe as possible, until i now stand with my feet on the boundary line that borders vacancy, and utter loss of weight; with a body nearly lost as a material substance, verging into nothing, and lastly with breath practically extinguished, i say, and repeat, is it not time that i should hesitate and pause in my reckless career?" "it is not time," he answered. "when will that hour come?" i asked in desperation, and i trembled as he replied: "when the three great lights are closed." [illustration: "an uncontrollable, inexpressible desire to flee."] chapter xxxv. "a certain point within a sphere."--men are as parasites on the roof of earth. i realized again, as i had so many times before, that it was useless for me to rebel. "the self-imposed mystery of a sacrificed life lies before me," i murmured, "and there is no chance to retrace my footsteps. the 'beyond' of the course that i have voluntarily selected, and sworn to follow, is hidden; i must nerve myself to pursue it to the bitter end, and so help me god, and keep me steadfast." "well said," he replied; "and since you have so wisely determined, i am free to inform you that these new obligations, like those you have heretofore taken, contain nothing which can conflict with your duty to god, your country, your neighbor, or yourself. in considering the phenomena presented by the suspension of the act of breathing, it should occur to you that where little labor is to be performed, little consumption of energy is required. where there is such a trifling destruction of the vital force (not mind force) as at present is the case with us, it requires but slight respiration to retain the normal condition of the body. on earth's surface the act of respiration alone consumes by far the larger proportion of vital energy, and the muscular exertion involved thereby necessitates a proportionate amount of breathing in order that breath itself may continue. this act of respiration is the result of one of the conditions of surface earth life, and consumes most of the vital force. if men would think of this, they would understand how paradoxical it is for them to breathe in order to live, when the very act of respiration wears away their bodies and shortens their lives more than all else they have to do, and without adding to their mental or physical constitution in the least. men are conversant with physical death as a constant result of suspended respiration, and with respiration as an accompaniment of life, which ever constant and connected conditions lead them to accept that the act of breathing is a necessity of mortal life. in reality, man occupies an unfortunate position among other undeveloped creatures of external earth; he is an animal, and is constitutionally framed like the other animals about him. he is exposed to the warring elements, to the vicious attacks of savage beasts and insidious parasites, and to the inroads of disease. he is a prey to the elementary vicissitudes of the undesirable exposure in which he exists upon the outer surface of our globe, where all is war, even among the forces of nature about him. these conditions render his lot an unhappy one indeed, and in ignorance he overlooks the torments of the weary, rasping, endless slavery of respiration in the personal struggle he has to undergo in order to retain a brief existence as an organized being. have you never thought of the connected tribulations that the wear and tear of respiration alone inflict upon the human family? the heaving of the chest, the circulation of the blood, the throbbing of the heart, continue from mortal birth until death. the heart of man forces about two and one-half ounces of blood with each pulsation. at seventy beats per minute this amounts to six hundred and fifty-six pounds per hour, or nearly eight tons per day. the lungs respire over one thousand times an hour, and move over three thousand gallons of air a day. multiply these amounts by three hundred and sixty-five, and then by seventy, and you have partly computed the enormous life-work of the lungs and heart of an adult. over two hundred thousand tons of blood, and seventy-five million gallons of air have been moved by the vital force. the energy thus consumed is dissipated. no return is made for the expenditure of this life force. during the natural life of man, more energy is consequently wasted in material transformation resulting from the motion of heart and lungs, than would be necessary to sustain the purely vital forces alone for a thousand years. besides, the act of respiration which man is compelled to perform in his exposed position, necessitates the consumption of large amounts of food, in order to preserve the animal heat, and replace the waste of a material body that in turn is worn out by these very movements. add this waste of energy to the foregoing, and then you will surely perceive that the possible life of man is also curtailed to another and greater degree in the support of the digestive part of his organism. his spirit is a slave to his body; his lungs and heart, on which he imagines life depends, are unceasing antagonists of life. that his act of breathing is now a necessity upon the surface of the earth, where the force of gravity presses so heavily, and where the elements have men at their command, and show him no mercy, i will not deny; but it is exasperating to contemplate such a waste of energy, and corresponding loss of human life." "you must admit, however, that it is necessary?" i queried. "no; only to an extent. the natural life of man should, and yet will be, doubled, trebled, multiplied a dozen, yes a thousand fold." i stepped in front of him; we stood facing each other. "tell me," i cried, "how men can so improve their condition as to lengthen their days to the limit you name, and let me return to surface earth a carrier of the glad tidings." he shook his head. i dropped on my knees before him. [illustration: "i dropped on my knees before him."] "i implore you in behalf of that unfortunate humanity, of which i am a member, give me this boon. i promise to return to you and do your bidding. whatever may be my subsequent fate, i promise to acquiesce therein willingly." he raised me to my feet. "be of good cheer," he said, "and in the proper time you may return to the surface of this rind of earth, a carrier of great and good news to men." "shall i teach them of what you have shown me?" i asked. "yes; in part you will be a forerunner, but before you obtain the information that is necessary to the comfort of mankind you will have to visit surface earth again, and return again, perhaps repeatedly. you must prove yourself as men are seldom proven. the journey you have commenced is far from its conclusion, and you may not be equal to its subsequent trials; prepare yourself, therefore, for a series of events that may unnerve you. if you had full confidence and faith in your guide, you would have less cause to fear the result, but your suspicious human nature can not overcome the shrinking sensation that is natural to those who have been educated as you have been amid the changing vicissitudes of the earth's surface, and you can not but be incredulous by reason of that education." then i stopped as i observed before me a peculiar fungus--peculiar because unlike all others i had seen. the convex part of its bowl was below, and the great head, as an inverted toadstool, stood upright on a short, stem-like pedestal. the gills within were of a deep green color, and curved out from the center in the form of a spiral. this form, however, was not the distinguishing feature, for i had before observed specimens that were spiral in structure. the extraordinary peculiarity was that the gills were covered with fruit. this fruit was likewise green in color, each spore, or berry, being from two to three inches in diameter, and honeycombed on the surface, corrugated most beautifully. i stopped, leaned over the edge of the great bowl, and plucked a specimen of the fruit. it seemed to be covered with a hard, transparent shell, and to be nearly full of a clear, green liquid. i handled and examined it in curiosity, at which my guide seemed not to be surprised. regarding me attentively, he said: "what is it that impels a mortal towards this fruit?" "it is curious," i said; "nothing more." "as for that," said he, "it is not curious at all; the seed of the lobelia of upper earth is more curious, because, while it is as exquisitely corrugated, it is also microscopically small. in the second place you err when you say it is simply curious, 'nothing more,' for no mortal ever yet passed that bowl without doing exactly as you have done. the vein of curiosity, were it that alone that impels you, could not but have an exception." then he cracked the shell of the fruit by striking it on the stony floor, and carefully opened the shell, handing me one of the halves filled with a green fluid. as he did so he spoke the single word, "drink," and i did as directed. he stood upright before me, and as i looked him in the face he seemingly, without a reason, struck off into a dissertation, apparently as distinct from our line of thought as a disconnected subject could be, as follows: [illustration: "handing me one of the halves, he spoke the single word, drink."] chapter xxxvi. drunkenness.--the drinks of man. "intemperance has been the vice of every people, and is prevalent in all climes, notwithstanding that intoxicants, properly employed, may serve humanity's highest aims. beginning early in the history of a people, the disease increases with the growth of a nation, until, at last, unless the knife is used, civilization perishes. a lowly people becomes more depraved as the use of liquor increases; a cultivated people passes backward into barbarism with the depravities that come from dissipation. here nations meet, and individuals sink to a common level. no drinking man is strong enough to say, 'i can not become dissipated;' no nation is rich and cultivated enough to view the debauch of its people without alarm. "the disgusting habit of the drunken african finds its counterpart in the lascivious wine-bibber of aristocratic society. to picture the indecencies of society, that may be charged to debauchery, when the grecian and roman empires were at the height of greatness, would obscure the orgies of the barbarous african, and make preferable the brutality of the drunken american indian. intemperance brings men to the lowest level, and holds its power over all lands and all nations." "did the aborigines know how to make intoxicants, and were barbarians intemperate before contact with civilized nations?" "yes." "but i have understood that drunkenness is a vice inherent only in civilized people; are not you mistaken?" "no. every clime, unless it be the far north where men are scarcely more than animals, furnishes intoxicants, and all people use them. i will tell you part of this record of nations. "the nubians make a barley beer which they call bouze, and also a wine, from the palm tree. the savages of africa draw the clear, sweet juice of the palm oil tree into a gourd, in the morning, and by night it becomes a violent intoxicant. the natives of the malayan archipelago ferment and drink the sap of the flower stems of the cocoanut. the tartar tribes make an intoxicating drink from mare's milk, called koomis. in south america the natives drink a vile compound, called cana, distilled from sugar cane; and in the sandwich islands, the shrub kava supplies the intoxicant kava-kava, drunk by all the inhabitants, from king to slave, and mother to child. in the heart of africa, cannibal tribes make legyce of a cereal, and indulge in wild orgies over their barbaric cup. in north america the indians, before columbus discovered america, made an intoxicating drink of the sap of the maple tree. the national drink of the mexicans is pulque, a beastly intoxicant, prepared from the agave americana. mead is an alcoholic drink, made of honey, and used in many countries. in china wine was indulged in from the earliest day, and in former times, had it not been for the influence of their philosophers, especially confucius, who foresaw the end, the chinese nation would have perished from drunkenness. opium, that fearful enslaver of millions of human beings, is in every sense a narcotic intoxicant, and stands conspicuous as an agent, capable of being either a friend, a companion, or a master, as man permits. history fails to indicate the date of its introduction to humanity. in south america the leaf of the cocoa plant is a stimulant scarcely less to be dreaded than opium. the juice of a species of asclepias produces the intoxicant soma, used once by the brahmins, not only as a drink, but also in sacrificial and religious ceremonies. many different flavored liquors made of palm, cocoanuts, sugar, pepper, honey, spices, etc., were used by native hindoos, and as intoxicants have been employed from the earliest days in india. the vedic people were fearfully dissipated, and page after page of that wonderful sacred book, the rigs-veda, is devoted to the habit of drunkenness. the worst classes of drunkards of india used indian hemp to make bhang, or combined the deadly narcotic stramonium with arrack, a native beer, to produce a poisonous intoxicant. in that early day the inhabitants of india and china were fearfully depraved drunkards, and but for the reforms instituted by their wise men, must have perished as a people. parahaoma, or 'homa,' is an intoxicant made from a lost plant that is described as having yellow blossoms, used by the ancient dissolute persians from the day of zoroaster. cannabis sativa produces an intoxicant that in turkey is known as hadschy, in arabia and india as hashish, and to the hottentots as dacha, and serves as a drunkard's food in other lands. the fruit of the juniper produces gin, and the fermented juice of the grape, or malt liquors, in all civilized countries are the favorite intoxicants, their origin being lost in antiquity. other substances, such as palm, apples, dates, and pomegranates have also been universally employed as drink producers. "go where you will, man's tendency seems to be towards the bowl that inebriates, and yet it is not the use but the abuse of intoxicants that man has to dread. could he be temperate, exhilarants would befriend." "but here," i replied, "in this underground land, where food is free, and existence possible without an effort, this shameful vice has no existence. here there is no incentive to intemperance, and even though man were present with his inherent passion for drink, he could not find means to gratify his appetite." "ah," my guide replied, "that is an error. why should this part of the earth prove an exception to the general rule? nature always supplies the means, and man's instinct teaches him how to prepare an intoxicant. so long as man is human his passions will rule. if you should prove unequal to the task you have undertaken, if you shrink from your journey, and turn back, the chances are you will fail to reach the surface of the earth. you will surely stop in the chamber which we now approach, and which i have now prepared you to enter, and will then become one of a band of earth drunkards; having all the lower passions of a mortal you will yet be lost to the virtues of man. in this chamber those who falter and turn back, stop and remain for all time, sinking until they become lower in the human scale than any drunkard on earth. without any restraining influence, without a care, without necessity of food or incentive to exertion, in this habitation where heat and cold are unknown, and no motive for self-preservation exists, they turn their thoughts toward the ruling passion of mankind and--listen! do you not hear them? listen!" chapter xxxvii. the drunkard's voice. then i noticed a medley of sounds seemingly rising out of the depths beyond us. the noise was not such as to lead me to infer that persons were speaking coherently, but rather resembled a jargon such as might come from a multitude of persons talking indiscriminately and aimlessly. it was a constant volley, now rising and now falling in intensity, as though many persons regardless of one another were chanting different tunes in that peculiar sing-song tone often characteristic of the drunkard. as we advanced, the noise became louder and more of a medley, until at last we were surrounded by confusion. then a single voice rose up strong and full, and at once, from about us, close to us, yes, against our very persons, cries and shrieks unearthly smote my ears. i could distinguish words of various tongues, english, irish, german, and many unfamiliar and disjointed cries, imprecations, and maledictions. the cavern about seemed now to be resonant with voices,--shrieks, yells, and maniacal cries commingled,--and yet no form appeared. as we rushed onward, for now my guide grasped my arm tightly and drew me rapidly down the cavern floor, the voices subsided, and at length sounded as if behind us. now however it seemed as though innumerable arrows, each possessed of a whistle or tone of its own, were in wave-like gusts shrieking by us. coming from in front, they burst in the rear. stopping to listen, i found that a connection could be traced between the screech of the arrow-like shriek, and a drunkard's distant voice. it seemed as though a rocket made of an escaping voice would scream past, and bursting in the cavern behind, liberate a human cry. now and then all but a few would subside, to burst out with increased violence, as if a flight of rockets each with a cry of its own would rush past, to be followed after their explosion by a medley of maniacal cries, songs, shrieks, and groans, commingled. it was as though a shell containing a voice that escaped slowly as by pressure from an orifice, were fired past my ears, to explode and liberate the voice within my hearing. the dreadful utterance was not an echo, was not hallucination, it was real. i stopped and looked at my guide in amazement. he explained: "did you not sometime back experience that your own voice was thrown from your body?" "yes," i answered. "these crazed persons or rather experiences depraved, are shouting in the cavern beyond," he said. "they are in front; their voices pass us to burst into expression in the rear." then, even as he spoke, from a fungus stalk near us, a hideous creature unfolded itself, and shambled to my side. it had the frame of a man, and yet it moved like a serpent, writhing towards me. i stepped back in horror, but the tall, ungainly creature reached out an arm and grasped me tightly. leaning over he placed his hideous mouth close to my ear, and moaned: "back, back, go thou back." i made no reply, being horror-stricken. "back, i say, back to earth, or--" he hesitated, and still possessed of fear, and unable to reply, i was silent. "then go on," he said, "on to your destiny, unhappy man," and slinking back to the fungus whence he arose, he disappeared from sight. "come," said my guide, "let us pass the drunkard's den. this was but a straggler; nerve yourself, for his companions will soon surround us." chapter xxxviii. the drunkards' den. as we progressed the voices in our rear became more faint, and yet the whistling volleys of screeching voice bombs passed us as before. i shuddered in anticipation of the sight that was surely to meet our gaze, and could not but tremble for fear. then i stopped and recoiled, for at my very feet i beheld a huge, living human head. it rested on the solid rock, and had i not stopped suddenly when i did, i would have kicked it at the next leap. the eyes of the monster were fixed in supplication on my face; the great brow indicated intelligence, the finely-cut mouth denoted refinement, the well-modeled head denoted brain, but the whole constituted a monster. the mouth opened, and a whizzing, arrow voice swept past, and was lost in the distance. "what is this?" i gasped. "the fate of a drunkard," my guide replied. "this was once an intelligent man, but now he has lost his body, and enslaved his soul, in the den of drink beyond us, and has been brought here by his comrades, who thus rid themselves of his presence. here he must rest eternally. he can not move, he has but one desire, drink, and that craving, deeper than life, can not be satiated." "but he desires to speak; speak lower, man, or head of man, if you wish me to know your wants," i said, and leaned toward him. then the monster whispered, and i caught the words: "back, back, go thou back!" i made no reply. "back i say, back to earth or--" still i remained silent. "then go on," he said; "on to your destiny, unhappy man." "this is horrible," i muttered. "come," said the guide, "let us proceed." and we moved onward. now i perceived many such heads about us, all resting upright on the stony floor. some were silent, others were shouting, others still were whispering and endeavoring to attract my attention. as we hurried on i saw more and more of these abnormal creatures. some were in rows, resting against each other, leaving barely room for us to pass between, but at last, much to my relief, we left them behind us. but i found that i had no cause for congratulation, when i felt myself clutched by a powerful hand--a hand as large as that of a man fifty feet in height. i looked about expecting to see a gigantic being, but instead beheld a shrunken pigmy. the whole man seemed but a single hand--a brobdingnag hand affixed to the body of a liliputian. "do not struggle," said the guide; "listen to what he wishes to impart." i leaned over, placing my ear close to the mouth of the monstrosity. "back, back, go thou back," it whispered. "what have i to fear?" i asked. "back, i say, back to earth, or--" "or what?" i said. "then go on; on to your destiny, unhappy man," he answered, and the hand loosed its grasp. my guide drew me onward. then, from about us, huge hands arose; on all sides they waved in the air; some were closed and were shaken as clenched fists, others moved aimlessly with spread fingers, others still pointed to the passage we had traversed, and in a confusion of whispers i heard from the pigmy figures a babble of cries, "back, back, go thou back." again i hesitated, the strain upon my nerves was becoming unbearable; i glanced backward and saw a swarm of misshaped diminutive forms, each holding up a monstrous arm and hand. the passage behind us was closed against retreat. every form possessed but one hand, the other and the entire body seemingly had been drawn into this abnormal member. while i thus meditated, momentarily, as by a single thought each hand closed, excepting the index finger, and in unison each finger pointed towards the open way in front, and like shafts from a thousand bows i felt the voices whiz past me, and then from the rear came the reverberation as a complex echo, "then go on; on to your destiny, unhappy man." instinctively i sprang forward, and had it not been for the restraining hand of my guide would have rushed wildly into passages that might have ended my misery, for god only knows what those unseen corridors contained. i was aware of that which lay behind, and was only intent on escaping from the horrid figures already passed. [illustration: "each finger pointed towards the open way in front."] "hold," whispered the guide; "as you value your life, stop." and then exerting a power that i could not withstand, he held me a struggling prisoner. "listen," he said, "have you not observed that these creatures do not seek to harm you? have not all of them spoken kindly, have any offered violence?" "no," i replied, "but they are horrible." "that they realize; but fearing that you will prove to be as weak as they have been, and will become as they are now, they warn you back. however, i say to you, if you have courage sufficient, you need have no fear. come, rely on me, and do not be surprised at anything that appears." again we went forward. i realized now my utter helplessness. i became indifferent again; i could neither retrace my footsteps alone, nor guide them forward in the path i was to pursue. i submissively relied on my guide, and as stoical as he appeared to be, i moved onward to new scenes. we came to a great chamber which, as we halted on its edge, seemed to be a prodigious amphitheater. in its center a rostrum-like stone of a hundred feet in diameter, flat and circular on the top, reared itself about twelve feet above the floor, and to the base of this rostrum the floor of the room sloped evenly. the amphitheater was fully a thousand feet in diameter, of great height, and the floor was literally alive with grotesque beings. imagination could not depict an abnormal human form that did not exhibit itself to my startled gaze. one peculiarity now presented itself to my mind; each abnormal part seemed to be created at the expense of the remainder of the body. thus, to my right i beheld a single leg, fully twelve feet in height, surmounted by a puny human form, which on this leg, hopped ludicrously away. i saw close behind this huge limb a great ear attached to a small head and body; then a nose so large that the figure to which it was attached was forced to hold the face upward, in order to prevent the misshaped organ from rubbing on the stony floor. here a gigantic forehead rested on a shrunken face and body, and there a pair of enormous feet were walking, seemingly attached to the body of a child, and yet the face was that of a man. if an artist were to attempt to create as many revolting figures as possible, each with some member out of proportion to the rest of the body, he could not add one form to those upon this floor. and yet, i again observed that each exaggerated organ seemed to have drawn itself into existence by absorbing the remainder of the body. we stood on the edge of this great room, and i pondered the scene before my eyes. at length my guide broke the silence: "you must cross this floor; no other passage is known. mark well my words, heed my advice." "this is the drunkards' den. these men are lost to themselves and to the world. every member of this assembly once passed onward as you are now doing, in charge of a guide. they failed to reach the goal to which you aspire, and retreating, reached this chamber, to become victims to the drink habit. some of these creatures have been here for ages, others only for a short period." "why are they so distorted?" i asked. "because matter is now only partly subservient to will," he replied. "the intellect and mind of a drunkard on surface earth becomes abnormal by the influence of an intoxicant, but his real form is unseen, although evidently misshapen and partly subject to the perception of a few only of his fellow men. could you see the inner form of an earth surface drunkard, you would perceive as great a mental monstrosity as is any physical monster now before you, and of the two the physically abnormal creature is really the least objectionable. could you see the mind configurations of an assembly of surface earth topers, you would perceive a class of beings as much distorted mentally as are these physically. a drunkard is a monstrosity. on surface earth the mind becomes abnormal; here the body suffers." "why is it," i asked, "that parts of these creatures shrink away as some special organ increases?" "because the abnormal member can grow only by abstracting its substance from the other portions of the body. an increasing arm enlarges itself by drawing its strength from the other parts, hence the body withers as the hand enlarges, and in turn the hand shrinks when the leg increases in size. the total weight of the individual remains about the same. "men on earth judge of men not by what they are, but by what they seem to be. the physical form is apparent to the sense of sight, the real man is unseen. however, as the boot that encloses a foot can not altogether hide the form of the foot within, so the body that encloses the life entity, can not but exhibit here and there the character of the dominating spirit within. thus a man's features may grow to indicate the nature of the enclosed spirit, for the controlling character of that spirit will gradually impress itself on the material part of man. even on surface earth, where the matter side of man dominates, a vicious spirit will produce a villainous countenance, a mediocre mind a vapid face, and an amorous soul will even protrude the anterior part of the skull. "carry the same law to this location, and it will be seen that as mind, or spirit, is here the master, and matter is the slave, the same rule should, under natural law, tend to produce such abnormal figures as you perceive. hence the part of a man's spirit that is endowed most highly sways the corresponding part of his physical body at the expense of the remainder. gradually the form is altered under the relaxing influence of this fearful intra-earth intoxicant, and eventually but one organ remains to tell of the symmetrical man who formerly existed. then, when he is no longer capable of self-motion, the comrades carry the drunkard's fate, which is here the abnormal being you have seen, into the selected corridor, and deposit it among others of its kind, as in turn the bearers are destined sometime to be carried by others. we reached this cavern through a corridor in which heads and arms were abnormal, but in others may be found great feet, great legs, or other portions of self-abused man. "i should tell you, furthermore, that on surface earth a drunkard is not less abnormal than these creatures; but men can not see the form of the drunkard's spirit. could they perceive the image of the real man life that corresponds to the material part, it would appear not less distorted and hideous. the soul of a mortal protrudes from the visible body as down expands from a thistle seed, but it is invisible. drink drives the spirit of an earth-surface drunkard to unnatural forms, not less grotesque than these physical distortions. could you see the real drunkard on surface earth he would be largely outside the body shell, and hideous in the extreme. as a rule, the spirit of an earth-surface drunkard dominates the nose and face, and if mortal man could be suddenly gifted with the sense of mind-sight, they would find themselves surrounded by persons as misshapen as any delirious imagination can conjure. luckily for humanity this scene is as yet withheld from man, for life would otherwise be a fearful experience, because man has not the power to resist the temptation to abuse drink." "tell me," i said, "how long will those beings rest in these caverns?" "they have been here for ages," replied the guide; "they are doomed to remain for ages yet." "you have intimated that if my courage fails i will return to this cavern and become as they are. now that you have warned me of my doom, do you imagine that anything, even sudden death, can swerve me from my journey? death is surely preferable to such an existence as this." "do not be so confident. every individual before you has had the same opportunity, and has been warned as you have been. they could not undergo the test to which they were subjected, and you may fail. besides, on surface earth are not men constantly confronted with the doom of the drunkard, and do they not, in the face of this reality, turn back and seek his caverns? the journey of life is not so fearful that they should become drunkards to shrink from its responsibilities. you have reached this point in safety. you have passed the sentinels without, and will soon be accosted by the band before us. listen well now to my advice. a drunkard always seeks to gain companions, to draw others down to his own level, and you will be tried as never have you been before. taste not their liquor by whatever form or creature presented. they have no power to harm him who has courage to resist. if they entreat you, refuse; if they threaten, refuse; if they offer inducements, refuse to drink. let your answer be no, and have no fear. if your strength fail you, mark well my--" before he could complete his sentence i felt a pressure, as of a great wind, and suddenly found myself seized in an embrace irresistible, and then, helpless as a feather, was swept out into the cavern of the drunkards. chapter xxxix. among the drunkards. i remember once to have stood on the edge of niagara's great whirlpool, but not more fearful did its seething waters then seem than did the semi-human whirl into which i had now been plunged. whether my guide had been aware of the coming move that separated us i never knew, but, as his words were interrupted, i infer that he was not altogether ready to part from my company. be this as it may, he disappeared from sight, and, as by a concerted move, the cries of the drunkards subsided instantly. i found myself borne high in the air, perched on a huge hand that was carried by its semi-human comrades. it seemed as though the contents of that vast hall had been suddenly thrown beneath me, for, as i looked about, i saw all around a sea of human fragments, living, moving parts of men. round and round that hall we circled as an eddy whirls in a rock-bound basin, and not less silently than does the water of an eddy. then i perceived that the disjointed mass of humanity moved as a spiral, in unison, throbbing like a vitalized stream, bearing me submissively on its surface. gradually the distance between myself and the center stone lessened, and then i found that, as if carried in the groove of a gigantic living spiral, i was being swept towards the stone platform in the center of the room. there was method in the movements of the drunkards, although i could not analyze the intricacies of their complex reel. finally i was borne to the center stone, and by a sudden toss of the hand, in the palm of which i was seated, i was thrown upon the raised platform. then in unison the troop swung around the stone, and i found myself gazing on a mass of vitalized fragments of humanity. quickly a figure sprung upon the platform, and in him i discerned a seemingly perfect man. he came to my side and grasped my hand as if he were a friend. "do not fear," he said; "obey our request, and you will not be harmed." "what do you desire?" i asked. he pointed to the center of the stone, and i saw thereon many gigantic, inverted fungus bowls. the gills of some had been crushed to a pulp, and had saturated themselves with liquid which, perhaps by a species of fermentation, had undergone a structural change; others were as yet intact; others still contained men intently cutting the gills into fragments and breaking the fruit preparatory to further manipulation. "you are to drink with us," he replied. "no," i said; "i will not drink." "then you must die; to refuse to drink with us is to invite death." "so mote it be; i will not drink." we stood facing each other, apparently both meditating on the situation. i remember to have been surprised, not that the man before me had been able to spring from the floor to the table rock on which i stood, but that so fair a personage could have been a companion of the monstrosities about me. he was a perfect type of manhood, and was exquisitely clothed in a loose, flowing robe that revealed and heightened the beauty of his symmetrical form. his face was fair, yet softly tinted with rich, fresh color; his hair and beard were neatly trimmed; his manner was polished, and his countenance frank and attractive. the contrast between the preternatural shapes from among whom he sprung and himself was as between a demon and an angel. i marveled that i had not perceived him before, for such a one should have been conspicuous because so fair; but i reflected that it was quite natural that among the thousands of grotesque persons about me, one attractive form should have escaped notice. presently he spoke again, seemingly having repented of his display of temper. "i am a friend," he said; "a deliverer. i will serve you as i have others before you. lean on me, listen to my story, accept my proffered friendship." then he continued: "when you have rested, i will guide you in safety back to upper earth, and restore you to your friends." i could not resist his pleasing promise. i suddenly and unaccountably believed in his sincerity. he impressed me with confidence in his truthfulness, yes, against my better judgment, convinced me that he must be a friend, a savior. grasping him by the hand i thanked him for his interest in a disconsolate wanderer, and assured him of my confidence. "i am in your hands," i said; "i will obey you implicitly. i thank you, my deliverer; lead me back to surface earth and receive the gratitude of a despairing mortal." "this i will surely do," he said; "rest your case in my hands, do not concern yourself in the least about your future. before acquiescing in your desire, however, i will explain part of the experiences through which you have recently passed. you have been in the control of an evil spirit, and have been deceived. the grotesque figures, the abnormal beings about you, exist only in your disordered imagination. they are not real. these persons are happy and free from care or pain. they live in bliss inexpressible. they have a life within a life, and the outward expression that you have perceived is as the uncouth hide and figure that incloses the calm, peaceful eye of a toad. look at their eyes, not at their seemingly distorted forms." i turned to the throng and beheld a multitude of upturned faces mildly beaming upon me. as i glanced from eye to eye of each countenance, the repulsive figure disappeared from my view, and a sweet expression of innocence was all that was disclosed to me. i realized that i had judged by the outer garment. i had wronged these fellow-beings. a sense of remorse came over me, a desire to atone for my short-sightedness. "what can i offer as a retribution?" i asked. "i have injured these people." "listen," was the reply. "these serene intelligences are happy. they are as a band of brothers. they seek to do you a kindness, to save you from disaster. one hour of experience such as they enjoy is worth a hundred years of the pleasures known to you. this delicious favor, an hour of bliss, they freely offer you, and after you have partaken of their exquisite joy, i will conduct you back to earth's surface whenever you desire to leave us." he emphasized the word, desire. "i am ready," i replied; "give me this promised delight." the genial allurer turned to the table rock behind us, and continued: "in these fungus bowls we foment the extract of life. the precious cordial is as a union of the quintessential spirits of joy, peace, tranquillity, happiness, and delight. could man abstract from ecstasy the thing that underlies the sense that gives that word a meaning, his product would not approach the power of the potent liquids in these vessels." "of what are they composed?" i asked. "of derivatives of the rarest species of the fungus family," he answered. "they are made by formulæ that are the result of thousands of years of experimentation. come, let us not delay longer the hour of bliss." taking me by the hand, my graceful comrade led me to the nearest bowl. then on closer view i perceived that its contents were of a deep green color, and in active commotion, and although no vapor was apparent, a delightful sensation impressed my faculties. i am not sure that i inhaled at all,--the feeling was one of penetration, of subtile, magic absorption. my companion took a tiny shell which he dipped into the strange cauldron. holding the tiny cup before me, he spoke the one word, "drink." ready to acquiesce, forgetful of the warning i had received, i grasped the cup, and raised it to my lips, and as i did so chanced to glance at my tempter's face, and saw not the supposed friend i had formerly observed, but, as through a mask fair in outline, the countenance of an exulting demon, regarding me with a sardonic grin. in an instant he had changed from man to devil. i dashed the cup upon the rock. "no; i will not drink," i shouted. instantly the cavern rung with cries of rage. a thousand voices joined as by accord, and simultaneously the throng of fragments of men began to revolve again. the mysterious spiral seemed to unwind, but i could not catch the method of its movement. the motion was like that of an uncoiling serpent bisected lengthwise, the two halves of the body seeming to slide against each other. gradually that part of the cavern near the stone on which i stood became clear of its occupants, and at last i perceived that the throng had receded to the outer edge. then the encircling side walls of the amphitheater became visible, and as water sinks into sand, the medley of fragments of humanity disappeared from view. i turned to my companion; he, too, had vanished. i glanced towards the liquor cauldrons; the stone was bare. i alone occupied the gigantic hall. no trace remained to tell of the throng that a short time previously had surrounded and mocked me. desolate, distracted, i threw myself upon the stone, and cursed my miserable self. "come back," i cried, "come back. i will drink, drink, drink." chapter xl. further temptation.--etidorhpa. then, as my voice reverberated from the outer recesses, i caught a sound as of music in the distance. i raised my head and listened--yes, surely there was music. the melody became clearly distinct, and soon my senses were aware that both vocal and instrumental music were combined. the airs which came floating were sweet, simple, and beautiful. the voices and accompanying strains approached, but i could distinguish no words. by and by, from the corridors of the cavern, troops of bright female forms floated into view. they were clad in robes ranging from pure white to every richest hue, contrasting strangely, and in the distance their rainbow brilliancy made a gorgeous spectacle. some were fantastically attired in short gowns, such as i imagine were worn by the dancing girls of sacred history, others had kirtles of a single bright color, others of many shades intermingled, while others still were dressed in gauze-like fabrics of pure white. as they filed into the cavern, and approached me, they formed into platoons, or into companies, and then, as dissolving views come and go, they presented first one and then another figure. sometimes they would stretch in great circling lines around the hall, again they would form into squares, and again into geometrical figures of all shades and forms, but i observed that with every change they drew nearer to the stone on which i rested. they were now so near that their features could be distinguished, and never before had i seen such loveliness in human mold. every face was as perfect as a master's picture of the madonna, and yet no two seemed to possess the same type of beauty. some were of dark complexion with glossy, raven hair, others were fair with hair ranging from light brown to golden. the style of head dress, as a rule, was of the simplest description. a tinted ribbon, or twisted cord, over the head, bound their hair with becoming grace, and their silken locks were either plaited into braids, curled into ringlets, or hung loosely, flowing in wavelets about their shoulders. some held curious musical instruments, others beautiful wands, and altogether they produced a scenic effect of rare beauty that the most extravagant dream of fairyland could not surpass. thus it was that i became again the center of a throng, not of repulsive monsters, but of marvelously lovely beings. they were as different from those preceding as darkness is from daylight. could any man from the data of my past experiences have predicted such a scene? never before had the semblance of a woman appeared, never before had an intimation been given that the gentle sex existed in these silent chambers. now, from the grotesque figures and horrible cries of the former occupants of this same cavern, the scene had changed to a conception of the beautiful and artistic, such as a poetic spirit might evolve in an extravagant dream of higher fairy land. i glanced above; the great hall was clothed in brilliant colors, the bare rocks had disappeared, the dome of that vast arch reaching to an immeasurable height, was decorated in all the colors of the rainbow. flags and streamers fluttered in breezes that also moved the garments of the angelic throng about me, but which i could not sense; profiles of enchanting faces pervaded the glimmering space beyond; i alone was but an onlooker, not a participant of the joys about me. the movements of the seraph-like figures continued, innumerable forms and figures followed forms and figures innumerable, and music indescribable blended with the poetry of motion. i was rapt, the past disappeared, my former mind was blotted from existence, the world vanished, and i became a thrill of joy, a sensation of absolute delight. the band of spirits or fairy forms reached the rock at my feet, but i did not know how long a time they consumed in doing this; it may have been a second, and it may have been an eternity. neither did i care. a single moment of existence such as i experienced, seemed worth an age of any other pleasure. circling about me, these ethereal creatures paused from their motions, and, as the music ceased, i stood above them, and yet in their midst, and gazed out into a distance illimitable, but not less beautiful in the expanse than was the adjacent part. the cavern had altogether disappeared, and in the depths about me as far as the eye could reach, seemingly into the broad expanse of heaven, i saw the exquisite forms that i have so imperfectly described. then a single band from the throng lightly sprung upon the stony terrace where i stood, and sung and danced before me. every motion was perfect as imagination could depict, every sound was concentrated extract of melody. this band retired to be replaced by another, which in turn gave way to another, and still another, until, as in space we have no standard, time vanished, and numbers ceased to be numbers. no two of the band of dancers were clothed alike, no two songs were similar, though all were inexpressibly enchanting. the first group seemed perfect, and yet the second was better, and each succeeding band sung sweeter songs, were more beautiful, and richer in dress than those preceding. i became enveloped in the æsthetic atmosphere, my spirit seemed to be loosened from the body, it was apparently upon the point of escaping from its mortal frame; suddenly the music ceased, the figures about became passive, and every form standing upright and graceful, gazed upon my face, and as i looked at the radiant creatures, each successive face, in turn, seemed to grow more beautiful, each form more exquisite than those about. then, in the distance, i observed the phalanx divide, forming into two divisions, separated by a broad aisle, stretching from my feet to the limit of space without, and down this aisle i observed a single figure advancing toward me. as she approached, the phalanx closed in behind her, and when at last she reached the stone on which i stood, she stepped, or was wafted to my side, and the phalanx behind moved together and was complete again. [illustration: etidorhpa.] "my name is etidorhpa. in me you behold the spirit that elevates man, and subdues the most violent of passions. in history, so far back in the dim ages as to be known now as legendary mythology, have i ruled and blessed the world. unclasp my power over man and beast, and while heaven dissolves, the charms of paradise will perish. i know no master. the universe bows to my authority. stars and suns enamored pulsate and throb in space and kiss each other in waves of light; atoms cold embrace and cling together; structures inanimate affiliate with and attract inanimate structures; bodies dead to other noble passions are not dead to love. the savage beast, under my enchantment, creeps to her lair, and gently purrs over her offspring; even man becomes less violent, and sheathes his weapon and smothers his hatred as i soothe his passions beside the loved ones in the privacy of his home. "i have been known under many titles, and have comforted many peoples. strike my name from time's record, and the lovely daughters of zeus and dione would disappear; and with them would vanish the grace and beauty of woman; the sweet conception of the froth child of the cyprus sea would be lost; venus, the goddess of love, would have no place in song, and love herself, the holiest conception of the poet, man's superlative conception of heaven's most precious charms, would be buried with the myrtle and the rose. my name is etidorhpa; interpret it rightly, and you have what has been to humanity the essence of love, the mother of all that ennobles. he who loves a wife worships me; she, who in turn makes a home happy, is typical of me. i am etidorhpa, the beginning and the end of earth. behold in me the antithesis of envy, the opposite of malice, the enemy of sorrow, the mistress of life, the queen of immortal bliss. "do you know," she continued, and her voice, soft and sweet, carried with it a pleasurable sense of truthfulness indescribable, "do you know that man's idea of heaven, places me, etidorhpa, on the highest throne? with the charm of maiden pure, i combine the devotion of wife and the holiness of mother. take from the life of man the treasures i embody, and he will be homeless, childless, loveless. the thought of heaven will in such a case be as the dismal conception of a dreary platitude. a life in such a heaven, a heaven devoid of love (and this the scriptures teach), is one of endless torment. "love, by whatever name the conception is designated, rules the world. divest the cold man of science, of the bond that binds him to his life-thought, and his work is ended. strike from the master in music the chord that links his soul to the voice he breathes, and his songs will be hushed. deaden the sense of love which the artist bears his art, and as the spirit that underlies his thought-scenes vanishes, his touch becomes chilled, and his brush inexpressive. the soldier thinks of his home and country, and without a murmur sheds his life blood. "and yet there are debasing phases of love, for as love of country builds a nation, so love of pillage may destroy it. love of the holy and the beautiful stands in human life opposed to love of the debasing and vicious, and i, etidorhpa, am typical of the highest love of man. as the same force binds the molecules of the rose and the violet as well as those of noxious drugs, so the same soul conception may serve the love of good or the love of evil. love may guide a tyrant or actuate a saint, may make man torture his fellow, or strive to ease his pain. "thus, man's propensity to serve his holy or his evil passion may each be called a degree in love, and in the serving of that passion the love of one heart may express itself as the antithesis of love in another. as bitter is to some men's taste more pleasant than sweet, and sour is yet more grateful to others, so one man may love the beautiful, another delight in the grotesque, and a third may love to see his neighbor suffer. amid these, the phase of love that ennobles, brings the greatest degree of pleasure and comfort to mankind, but the love that degrades is love nevertheless, by whatever name the expression of the passion may be called. love rules the world, and typical of man's intensest, holiest love, i, etidorhpa, stand the soul of love supreme." she hesitated. "go on." "i have already said, and in saying this have told the truth, i come from beyond the empty shell of a materialistic gold and silver conception of heaven. go with me, and in my home you will find man's soul devotion, regardless of material surroundings. i have said, and truly, the corridors of the heaven mansion, enriched by precious stones and metals fine, but destitute of my smiles and graces, are deserted. the golden calf is no longer worshiped, cobwebs cling in festoons motionless, and the dust of selfish thoughts perverted, dry and black as the soot from satan's fires settling therein, as the dust of an antiquated sarcophagus, rest undisturbed. place on one side the heaven of which gold-bound misers sing, and on the other etidorhpa and the treasures that come with me to man and woman, (for without me neither wife, child, nor father could exist,) and from any other heaven mankind will turn away. the noblest gift of heaven to humanity is the highest sense of love, and i, etidorhpa, am the soul of love." she ceased speaking, and as i looked at the form beside me i forgot myself in the rapture of that gaze. crush the colors of the rainbow into a single hue possessed of the attributes of all the others, and multiply that entity to infinity, and you have less richness than rested in any of the complex colors shown in the trimming of her raiment. lighten the softness of eiderdown a thousand times, and yet maintain its sense of substance, and you have not conceived of the softness of the gauze that decked her simple, flowing garments. gather the shadows cast by a troop of radiant angels, then sprinkle the resultant shade with star dust, and color therewith a garment brighter than satin, softer than silk, and more ethereal than light itself, and you have less beauty than reposed in the modest dress that enveloped her figure. abstract the perfume from the sweetest oriental grasses, and combine with it the essential spirit of the wild rose, then add thereto the soul of ambergris, and the quintessential extracts of the finest aromatics of the east, and you have not approached the exquisite fragrance that penetrated my very being at her approach. she stood before me, slender, lithe, symmetrical, radiant. her hair was more beautiful than pen can depict; it was colorless because it can not be described by colors known to mortals. her face paled the beauty of all who had preceded her. she could not be a fairy, for no conception of a fairy can approach such loveliness; she was not a spirit, for surely material substance was a part of her form; she was not an angel, for no abnormal, irrational wing protruded from her shoulder to blemish her seraphic figure. "no," i said musingly; "she is a creature of other climes; the scriptures tell of no such being; she is neither human nor angelic, but--" "but what?" she said. "i do not know," i answered. "then i will tell you," she replied. "yes; i will tell you of myself and of my companions. i will show you our home, carrying you through the shadows of heaven to exhibit that fair land, for heaven without etidorhpa casts a shadow in comparison therewith. see," she said, as with her dainty fingers she removed from her garment a fragment of transparent film that i had not previously observed; "see, this is a cobweb that clung to my skirt, as, on my way to meet you, i passed through the dismal corridors of the materialists' loveless heaven." she dropped it on the floor, and i stooped to pick it up, but vainly--my fingers passed through it as through a mist. "you must be an angel," i stammered. she smiled. "come," she said, "do not consume your time with thoughts of materialistic heaven; come with me to that brighter land beyond, and in those indescribable scenes we, you and i, will wander together forever." she held out her hand; i hesitatingly touched it, and then raised it to my lips. she made no resistance. i dropped upon my knees. "are you to be mine?" i cried. "mine forever?" "yes," she answered; "if you will it, for he who loves will be loved in turn." "i will do it," i said; "i give myself to you, be you what you may, be your home where it may, i give up the earth behind me, and the hope of heaven before me; the here and the hereafter i will sacrifice. let us hasten," i said, for she made no movement. she shook her head. "you must yet be tempted as never before, and you must resist the tempter. you can not pass into the land of etidorhpa until you have suffered as only the damned can suffer, until you have withstood the pangs of thirst, and have experienced heat and cold indescribable. remember the warning of your former guide, mark well the words of etidorhpa: you must not yield. 'twas to serve you that i came before you now, 'twas to preserve you from the drunkard's cavern that i have given you this vision of the land beyond the end of earth where, if you will serve yourself, we will meet again." she held aloft two tiny cups; i sprung to my feet and grasped one of them, and as i glanced at the throng in front of me, every radiant figure held aloft in the left hand a similar cup. all were gazing in my face. i looked at the transparent cup in my hand; it appeared to be partly filled with a green liquid. i looked at her cup and saw that it contained a similar fluid. forgetting the warning she had so recently given, i raised the cup to my lips, and just before touching it glanced again at her face. the fair creature stood with bowed head, her face covered with her hand; her very form and attitude spoke of sorrow and disappointment, and she trembled in distress. she held one hand as though to thrust back a form that seemed about to force itself beyond her figure, for peering exultingly from behind, leered the same satanic face that met my gaze on the preceding occasion, when in the presence of the troop of demons, i had been tempted by the perfect man. dashing the cup to the floor i shouted: "no; i will not drink." etidorhpa dropped upon her knees and clasped her hands. the satanic figure disappeared from sight. realizing that we had triumphed over the tempter, i also fell upon my knees in thankfulness. chapter xli. misery. as all the bubbles in a glass shrink and vanish when the first collapses, so the troop of fairy-like forms before me disintegrated, and were gone. the delicate being, whose hand i held, fluttered as does a mist in the first gust of a sudden gale, and then dissolved into transparency. the gaily decked amphitheater disappeared, the very earth cavern passed from existence, and i found myself standing solitary and alone in a boundless desert. i turned towards every point of the compass only to find that no visible object appeared to break the monotony. i stood upon a floor of pure white sand which stretched to the horizon in gentle wave-like undulations as if the swell of the ocean had been caught, transformed to sand, and fixed. i bent down and scooped a handful of the sand, and raised it in the palm of my hand, letting it sift back again to earth; it was surely sand. i pinched my flesh, and pulled my hair, i tore my garments, stamped upon the sand, and shouted aloud to demonstrate that i myself was still myself. it was real, yes, real. i stood alone in a desert of sand. morning was dawning, and on one side the great sun rose slowly and majestically. "thank god for the sun," i cried. "thank god for the light and heat of the sun." i was again on surface earth; once more i beheld that glorious orb for the sight of which i had so often prayed when i believed myself miserable in the dismal earth caverns, and which i had been willing to give my very life once more to behold. i fell on my knees, and raised my hands in thankfulness. i blessed the rising sun, the illimitable sand, the air about me, and the blue heavens above. i blessed all that was before me, and again and again returned thanks for my delivery from the caverns beneath me. i did not think to question by what power this miracle had been accomplished. i did not care to do so; had i thought of the matter at all i would not have dared to question for fear the transition might prove a delusion. i turned towards the sun, and walked eastward. as the day progressed and the sun rose into the heavens, i maintained my journey, aiming as best i could to keep the same direction. the heat increased, and when the sun reached the zenith it seemed as though it would melt the marrow in my bones. the sand, as white as snow and hot as lava, dazzled my eyes, and i covered them with my hands. the sun in the sky felt as if it were a ball of white hot iron near my head. it seemed small, and yet appeared to shine as through a tube directed only towards myself. vainly did i struggle to escape and get beyond its boundary, the tube seemed to follow my every motion, directing the blazing shafts, and concentrating them ever upon my defenseless person. i removed my outer garments, and tore my shirt into fibers hoping to catch a waft of breeze, and with one hand over my eyes, and the other holding my coat above my head, endeavored to escape the mighty flood of heat, but vainly. the fiery rays streamed through the garment as mercury flows through a film of gauze. they penetrated my flesh, and vaporized my blood. my hands, fingers, and arms puffed out as a bladder of air expands under the influence of heat. my face swelled to twice, thrice its normal size, and at last my eyes were closed, for my cheeks and eyebrows met. i rubbed my shapeless hand over my sightless face, and found it as round as a ball; the nose had become imbedded in the expanded flesh, and my ears had disappeared in the same manner. i could no longer see the sun, but felt the vivid, piercing rays i could not evade. i do not know whether i walked or rolled along; i only know that i struggled to escape those deadly rays. then i prayed for death, and in the same breath begged the powers that had transferred me to surface earth to carry me back again to the caverns below. the recollection of their cool, refreshing atmosphere was as the thought of heaven must be to a lost spirit. i experienced the agony of a damned soul, and now, in contradistinction to former times, considered as my idea of perfect happiness the dismal earth caverns of other days. i thought of the day i had stood at the mouth of the kentucky cave, and waded into the water with my guide; i recalled the refreshing coolness of the stream in the darkness of that cavern when the last ray of sunshine disappeared, and i cursed myself for longing then for sunshine, and the surface earth. fool that man is, i mentally cried, not to be contented with that which is, however he may be situated, and wherever he may be placed. this is but a retribution, i am being cursed for my discontented mind, this is hell, and in comparison with this hell all else on or in earth is happiness. then i damned the sun, the earth, the very god of all, and in my frenzy cursed everything that existed. i felt my puffed limbs, and prayed that i might become lean again. i asked to shrink to a skeleton, for seemingly my misery came with my expanded form; but i prayed and cursed in vain. so i struggled on in agony, every moment seemingly covering a multitude of years; struggled along like a lost soul plodding in an endless expanse of ever-increasing, ever-concentrating hell. at last, however, the day declined, the heat decreased, and as it did so my distorted body gradually regained its normal size, my eyesight returned, and finally i stood in that wilderness of sand watching the great red sun sink into the earth, as in the morning i had watched it rise. but between the sunrise and the sunset there had been an eternity of suffering, and then, as if released from a spell, i dropped exhausted upon the sand, and seemed to sleep. i dreamed of the sun, and that an angel stood before me, and asked why i was miserable, and in reply i pointed to the sun. "see," i said, "the author of the misery of man." said the angel: "were there no sun there would be no men, but were there no men there would still be misery." "misery of what?" i asked. "misery of mind," replied the angel. "misery is a thing, misery is not a conception--pain is real, pain is not an impression. misery and pain would still exist and prey upon mind substance were there no men, for mind also is real, and not a mere conception. the pain you have suffered has not been the pain of matter, but the pain of spirit. matter can not suffer. were it matter that suffered, the heated sand would writhe in agony. no; it is only mind and spirit that experience pain, or pleasure, and neither mind nor spirit can evade its destiny, even if it escape from the body." then i awoke and saw once more the great red sun rise from the sand-edge of my desolate world, and i became aware of a new pain, for now i perceived the fact that i experienced the sense of thirst. the conception of the impression drew my mind to the subject, and instantly intense thirst, the most acute of bodily sufferings, possessed me. when vitalized tissue craves water, other physical wants are unfelt; when man parches to death all other methods of torture are disregarded. i thought no longer of the rising sun, i remembered no more the burning sand of yesterday, i felt only the pain of thirst. "water, water, water," i cried, and then in the distance as if in answer to my cry, i beheld a lake of water. instantly every nerve was strained, every muscle stretched, and i fled over the sands towards the welcome pool. on and on i ran, and as i did so, the sun rising higher and higher, again began to burn the sands beneath my feet, and roast the flesh upon my bones. once more i experienced that intolerable sense of pain, the pain of living flesh disintegrating by fire, and now with thirst gnawing at my vitals, and fire drying up the residue of my evaporated blood, i struggled in agony towards a lake that vanished before my gaze, to reappear just beyond. this day was more horrible than the preceding, and yet it was the reverse so far as the action of the sun on my flesh was concerned. my prayer of yesterday had been fearfully answered, and the curses of the day preceding were being visited upon my very self. i had prayed to become lean, and instead of the former puffed tissue and expanded flesh, my body contracted as does beef when dried. the tightening skin squeezed upon the solidifying flesh, and as the moisture evaporated, it left a shriveled integument, contracted close upon the bone. my joints stood out as great protuberances, my skin turned to a dark amber color, and my flesh became transparent as does wetted horn. i saw my very vitals throb, i saw the empty blood vessels, the shriveled nerves and vacant arteries of my frame. i could not close my eyes. i could not shield them from the burning sun. i was a mummy, yet living, a dried corpse walking over the sand, dead to all save pain. i tried to fall, but could not, and i felt that, while the sun was visible, i must stand upright; i could not stop, and could not stoop. then at last the malevolent sun sank beneath the horizon, and as the last ray disappeared again, i fell upon the sand. i did not sleep, i did not rest, i did not breathe nor live a human; i only existed as a living pain, the conception of pain realized into a conscious nucleus,--and so the night passed. again the sun arose, and with the light of her first ray i saw near at hand a caravan, camels, men, horses, a great cavalcade. they approached rapidly and surrounded me. the leader of the band alighted and raised me to my feet, for no longer had i the power of motion. he spoke to me kindly, and strange as it may seem to you, but not at all strange did it seem to me, called me by name. "we came across your tracks in the desert," he said; "we are your deliverers." i motioned for water; i could not speak. "yes," he said, "water you shall have." then from one of the skins that hung across the hump of a camel he filled a crystal goblet with sparkling water, and held it towards me, but just before the goblet touched my lips he withdrew it and said: "i forgot to first extend the greetings of our people." and then i noticed in his other hand a tiny glass containing a green liquid, which he placed to my lips, pronouncing the single word, "drink." i fastened my gaze upon the water, and opened my lips. i smelled the aroma of the powerful narcotic liquid within the glass, and hastened to obey, but glanced first at my deliverer, and in his stead saw the familiar face of the satanic figure that twice before had tempted me. instantly, without a thought as to the consequences, without a fear as to the result, i dashed the glass to the sand, and my voice returning, i cried for the third time, "no; i will not drink." the troop of camels instantly disappeared, as had the figures in the scenes before, the tempter resolved into clear air, the sand beneath my feet became natural again, and i became myself as i had been before passing through the hideous ordeal. the fact of my deliverance from the earth caverns had, i now realized, been followed by temporary aberration of my mind, but at last i saw clearly again, the painful fancy had passed, the delirium was over. i fell upon my knees in thankfulness; the misery through which i had passed had proven to be illusory, the earth caverns were beneath me, the mirage and temptations were not real, the horrors i had experienced were imaginary--thank god for all this--and that the sand was really sand. solitary, alone, i kneeled in the desert barren, from horizon to horizon desolation only surrounded, and yet the scene of that illimitable waste, a fearful reality, it is true, was sweet in comparison with the misery of body and soul about which i had dreamed so vividly. "'tis no wonder," i said to myself, "that in the moment of transition from the underground caverns to the sunshine above, the shock should have disturbed my mental equilibrium, and in the moment of reaction i should have dreamed fantastic and horrible imaginings." a cool and refreshing breeze sprung now, from i know not where; i did not care to ask; it was too welcome a gift to question, and contrasted pleasantly with the misery of my past hallucination. the sun was shining hot above me, the sand was glowing, parched beneath me, and yet the grateful breeze fanned my brow, and refreshed my spirit. "thank god," i cried, "for the breeze, for the coolness that it brings; only those who have experienced the silence of the cavern solitudes through which i have passed, and added thereto, have sensed the horrors of the more recent nightmare scenes, can appreciate the delights of a gust of air." the incongruity of surrounding conditions, as connected with affairs rational, did not appeal at all to my questioning senses, it seemed as though the cool breeze, coming from out the illimitable desolation of a heated waste was natural. i arose and walked on, refreshed. from out that breeze my physical self drew refreshment and strength. "'tis the cold," i said; "the blessed antithesis of heat, that supports life. heat enervates, cold stimulates; heat depresses, cold animates. thank god for breezes, winds, waters, cold." i turned and faced the gladsome breeze. "'tis the source of life, i will trace it to its origin, i will leave the accursed desert, the hateful sunshine, and seek the blissful regions that give birth to cool breezes." i walked rapidly, and the breeze became more energetic and cooler. with each increase of momentum on my part, corresponding strength seemed to be added to the breeze--both strength and coolness. "is not this delightful?" i murmured; "my god at last has come to be a just god. knowing what i wanted, he sent the breeze; in answer to my prayer the cool, refreshing breeze arose. damn the heat," i cried aloud, as i thought of the horrid day before; "blessed be the cold," and as though in answer to my cry the breeze stiffened and the cold strengthened itself, and i again returned thanks to my creator. with ragged coat wrapped about my form i faced the breeze and strode onward towards the home of the gelid wind that now dashed in gusts against my person. then i heard my footstep crunch, and perceived that the sand was hard beneath my feet; i stooped over to examine it and found it frozen. strange, i reflected, strange that dry sand can freeze, and then i noticed, for the first time, that spurts of snow surrounded me, 'twas a sleety mixture upon which i trod, a crust of snow and sand. a sense of dread came suddenly over me, and instinctively i turned, affrighted, and ran away from the wind, towards the desert behind me, back towards the sun, which, cold and bleak, low in the horizon, was sinking. the sense of dread grew upon me, and i shivered as i ran. with my back towards the breeze i had blessed, i now fled towards the sinking sun i had cursed. i stretched out my arms in supplication towards that orb, for from behind overhanging blackness spread, and about me roared a fearful hurricane. vainly. as i thought in mockery the heartless sun disappeared before my gaze, the hurricane surrounded me, and the wind about me became intensely cold, and raved furiously. it seemed as though the sun had fled from my presence, and with the disappearance of that orb, the outline of the earth was blotted from existence. it was an awful blackness, and the universe was now to me a blank. the cold strengthened and froze my body to the marrow of my bones. first came the sting of frost, then the pain of cold, then insensibility of flesh. my feet were benumbed, my limbs motionless. i stood a statue, quiescent in the midst of the roaring tempest. the earth, the sun, the heavens themselves, my very person now had disappeared. dead to the sense of pain or touch, sightless, amid a blank, only the noise of the raging winds was to me a reality. and as the creaking frost reached my brain and congealed it, the sound of the tempest ceased, and then devoid of physical senses, my quickened intellect, enslaved, remained imprisoned in the frozen form it could not leave, and yet could no longer control. reflection after reflection passed through that incarcerated thought entity, and as i meditated, the heinous mistakes i had committed in the life that had passed, arose to torment. god had answered my supplications, successively i had experienced the hollowness of earthly pleasures, and had left each lesson unheeded. had i not alternately begged for and then cursed each gift of god? had i not prayed for heat, cold, light, and darkness, and anathematized each? had i not, when in perfect silence, prayed for sound; in sheltered caverns, prayed for winds and storms; in the very corridors of heaven, and in the presence of etidorhpa, had i not sought for joys beyond? had i not found each pleasure of life a mockery, and notwithstanding each bitter lesson, still pursued my headstrong course, alternately blessing and cursing my creator, and then myself, until now, amid a howling waste, in perfect darkness, my conscious intellect was bound to the frozen, rigid semblance of a body? all about me was dead and dark, all within was still and cold, only my quickened intellect remained as in every corpse the self-conscious intellect must remain, while the body has a mortal form, for death of body is not attended by the immediate liberation of mind. the consciousness of the dead man is still acute, and he who thinks the dead are mindless, will realize his fearful error when devoid of motion he lies a corpse, conscious of all that passes on around him, waiting the liberation that can only come by disintegration and destruction of the flesh. so, unconscious of pain, unconscious of any physical sense, i existed on and on, enthralled, age after age passed and piled upon one another, for time was to me unchangeable, no more an entity. i now prayed for change of any kind, and envied the very devils in hell their pleasures, for were they not gifted with the power of motion, could they not hear, and see, and realize the pains they suffered? i prayed for death--death absolute, death eternal. then, at last, the darkness seemed to lessen, and i saw the frozen earth beneath, the monstrous crags of ice above, the raging tempest about, for i now had learned by reflection to perceive by pure intellect, to see by the light within. my body, solid as stone, was fixed and preserved in a waste of ice. the world was frozen. i perceived that the sun, and moon, and stars, nearly stilled, dim and motionless, had paled in the cold depths of space. the universe itself was freezing, and amid the desolation only my deserted intellect remained. age after age had passed, æons of ages had fled, nation after nation had grown and perished, and in the uncounted epochs behind, humanity had disappeared. unable to free itself from the frozen body, my own intellect remained the solitary spectator of the dead silence about. at last, beneath my vision, the moon disappeared, the stars faded one by one, and then i watched the sun grow dim, until at length only a milky, gauze-like film remained to indicate her face, and then--vacancy. i had lived the universe away. and in perfect darkness the living intellect, conscious of all that had transpired in the ages past, clung still enthralled to the body of the frozen mortal. i thought of my record in the distant past, of the temptations i had undergone, and called myself a fool, for, had i listened to the tempter, i could at least have suffered, i could have had companionship even though it were of the devils--in hell. i lived my life over and over, times without number; i thought of my tempters, of the offered cups, and thinking, argued with myself: "no," i said; "no, i had made the promise, i have faith in etidorhpa, and were it to do over again i would not drink." then, as this thought sped from me, the ice scene dissolved, the enveloped frozen form of myself faded from view, the sand shrunk into nothingness, and with my natural body, and in normal condition, i found myself back in the earth cavern, on my knees, beside the curious inverted fungus, of which fruit i had eaten in obedience to my guide's directions. before me the familiar figure of my guide stood, with folded arms, and as my gaze fell upon him he reached out his hand and raised me to my feet. "where have you been during the wretched epochs that have passed since i last saw you?" i asked. "i have been here," he replied, "and you have been there." "you lie, you villainous sorcerer," i cried; "you lie again as you have lied to me before. i followed you to the edge of demon land, to the caverns of the drunkards, and then you deserted me. since last we met i have spent a million, billion years of agony inexpressible, and have had that agony made doubly horrible by contrast with the thought, yes, the very sight and touch of heaven. i passed into a double eternity, and have experienced the ecstacies of the blessed, and suffered the torments of the damned, and now you dare boldly tell me that i have been here, and that you have been there, since last i saw you stand by this cursed fungus bowl." "yes," he said, taking no offense at my violence; "yes, neither of us has left this spot; you have sipped of the drink of an earth-damned drunkard, you have experienced part of the curses of intemperance, the delirium of narcotics. thousands of men on earth, in their drunken hallucination, have gone through hotter hells than you have seen; your dream has not exaggerated the sufferings of those who sup of the delirium of intemperance." and then he continued: "let me tell you of man's conception of eternity." chapter xlii. eternity without time. "man's conception of eternity is that of infinite duration, continuance without beginning or end, and yet everything he knows is bounded by two or more opposites. from a beginning, as he sees a form of matter, that substance passes to an end." thus spoke my guide. then he asked, and showed by his question that he appreciated the nature of my recent experiences: "do you recall the instant that you left me standing by this bowl to start, as you imagined, with me as a companion, on the journey to the cavern of the grotesque?" "no; because i did not leave you. i sipped of the liquid, and then you moved on with me from this spot; we were together, until at last we were separated on the edge of the cave of drunkards." "listen," said he; "i neither left you nor went with you. you neither went from this spot nor came back again. you neither saw nor experienced my presence nor my absence; there was no beginning to your journey." "go on." "you ate of the narcotic fungus; you have been intoxicated." "i have not," i retorted. "i have been through your accursed caverns, and into hell beyond. i have been consumed by eternal damnation in the journey, have experienced a heaven of delight, and also an eternity of misery." "upon the contrary, the time that has passed since you drank the liquid contents of that fungus fruit has only been that which permitted you to fall upon your knees. you swallowed the liquor when i handed you the shell cup; you dropped upon your knees, and then instantly awoke. see," he said; "in corroboration of my assertion the shell of the fungus fruit at your feet is still dripping with the liquid you did not drink. time has been annihilated. under the influence of this potent earth-bred narcoto-intoxicant, your dream begun inside of eternity; you did not pass into it." "you say," i interrupted, "that i dropped upon my knees, that i have experienced the hallucination of intoxication, that the experiences of my vision occurred during the second of time that was required for me to drop upon my knees." "yes." "then by your own argument you demonstrate that eternity requires time, for even a millionth part of a second is time, as much so as a million of years." "you mistake," he replied, "you misinterpret my words. i said that all you experienced in your eternity of suffering and pleasure, occurred between the point when you touched the fungus fruit to your lips, and that when your knees struck the stone." "that consumed time," i answered. "did i assert," he questioned, "that your experiences were scattered over that entire period?" "no." "may not all that occurred to your mind have been crushed into the second that accompanied the mental impression produced by the liquor, or the second of time that followed, or any other part of that period, or a fraction of any integral second of that period?" "i can not say," i answered, "what part of the period the hallucination, as you call it, occupied." "you admit that so far as your conception of time is concerned, the occurrences to which you refer may have existed in either an inestimable fraction of the first, the second, or the third part of the period." "yes," i replied, "yes; if you are correct in that, they were illusions." "let me ask you furthermore," he said; "are you sure that the flash that bred your hallucination was not instantaneous, and a part of neither the first, second, nor third second?" "continue your argument." "i will repeat a preceding question with a slight modification. may not all that occurred to your mind have been crushed into the space between the second of time that preceded the mental impression produced by the liquor, and the second that followed it? need it have been a part of either second, or of time at all? indeed, could it have been a part of time if it were instantaneous?" "go on." "suppose the entity that men call the soul of man were in process of separation from the body. the process you will admit would occupy time, until the point of liberation was reached. would not dissolution, so far as the separation of matter and spirit is concerned at its critical point be instantaneous?" i made no reply. "if the critical point is instantaneous, there would be no beginning, there could be no end. therein rests an eternity greater than man can otherwise conceive of, for as there is neither beginning nor end, time and space are annihilated. the line that separates the soul that is in the body from the soul that is out of the body is outside of all things. it is a between, neither a part of the nether side nor of the upper side; it is outside the here and the hereafter. let us carry this thought a little further," said he. "suppose a good man were to undergo this change, could not all that an eternity of happiness might offer be crushed into this boundless conception, the critical point? all that a mother craves in children dead, could reappear again in their once loved forms; all that a good life earns, would rest in the soul's experience in that eternity, but not as an illusion, although no mental pleasure, no physical pain is equal to that of hallucinations. suppose that a vicious life were ended, could it escape the inevitable critical point? would not that life in its previous journey create its own sad eternity? you have seen the working of an eternity with an end but not a beginning to it, for you can not sense the commencement of your vision. you have been in the cavern of the grotesque,--the realms of the beautiful, and have walked over the boundless sands that bring misery to the soul, and have, as a statue, seen the frozen universe dissolve. you are thankful that it was all an illusion as you deem it now; what would you think had only the heavenly part been spread before you?" "i would have cursed the man who dispelled the illusion," i answered. "then," he said, "you are willing to admit that men who so live as to gain such an eternity, be it mental illusion, hallucination or real, make no mistake in life." "i do," i replied; "but you confound me when you argue in so cool a manner that eternity may be everlasting to the soul, and yet without the conception of time." "did i not teach you in the beginning of this journey," he interjected, "that time is not as men conceive it. men can not grasp an idea of eternity and retain their sun bred, morning and evening, conception of time. therein lies their error. as the tip of the whip-lash passes with the lash, so through life the soul of man proceeds with the body. as there is a point just when the tip of the whip-lash is on the edge of its return, where all motion of the line that bounds the tip ends, so there is a motionless point when the soul starts onward from the body of man. as the tip of the whip-lash sends its cry through space, not while it is in motion either way, but from the point where motion ceases, the spaceless, timeless point that lies between the backward and the forward, so the soul of man leaves a cry (eternity) at the critical point. it is the death echo, and thus each snap of the life-thread throws an eternity, its own eternity, into eternity's seas, and each eternity is made up of the entities thus cast from the critical point. with the end of each soul's earth journey, a new eternity springs into existence, occupying no space, consuming no time, and not conflicting with any other, each being exactly what the soul-earth record makes it, an eternity of joy (heaven), or an eternity of anguish (hell). there can be no neutral ground." then he continued: "the drunkard is destined to suffer in the drunkard's eternity, as you have suffered; the enticement of drink is evanescent, the agony to follow is eternal. you have seen that the sub-regions of earth supply an intoxicant. taste not again of any intoxicant; let your recent lesson be your last. any stimulant is an enemy to man, any narcotic is a fiend. it destroys its victim, and corrupts the mind, entices it into pastures grotesque, and even pleasant at first, but destined to eternal misery in the end. beware of the eternity that follows the snapping of the life-thread of a drunkard. come," he abruptly said, "we will pursue our journey." [note.--morphine, belladonna, hyoscyamus and cannabis indica are narcotics, and yet each differs in its action from the others. alcohol and methyl alcohol are intoxicants; ether, chloroform, and chloral are anæsthetics, and yet no two are possessed of the same qualities. is there any good reason to doubt that combinations of the elements as yet hidden from man can not cause hallucinations that combine and intensify the most virulent of narcotics, intoxicants, and anæsthetics, and pall the effects of hashish or of opium? if, in the course of experimentation, a chemist should strike upon a compound that in traces only would subject his mind and drive his pen to record such seemingly extravagant ideas as are found in the hallucinations herein pictured, would it not be his duty to bury the discovery from others, to cover from mankind the existence of such a noxious fruit of the chemist's or pharmaceutist's art? introduce such an intoxicant, and start it to ferment in humanity's blood, and before the world were advised of its possible results, might not the ever increasing potency gain such headway as to destroy, or debase, our civilization, and even to exterminate mankind?--j. u. l.] interlude. chapter xliii. the last contest. i, lewellyn drury, had been so absorbed in the fantastic story the old man read so fluently from the execrably written manuscript, and in the metaphysical argument which followed his account of the vision he had introduced so artfully as to lead me to think it was a part of his narrative, that i scarcely noted the passage of time. upon seeing him suspend his reading, fold the manuscript, and place it in his pocket, i reverted to material things, and glancing at the clock, perceived that the hands pointed to bed-time. "to-morrow evening," said he, "i will return at nine o'clock. in the interim, if you still question any part of the story, or wish further information on any subject connected with my journey, i will be prepared to answer your queries. since, however, that will be your last opportunity, i suggest that you make notes of all subjects that you wish to discuss." then, in his usual self-possessed, exquisitely polite manner, he bowed himself out. i spent the next day reviewing the most questionable features of his history, recalling the several statements that had been made. remembering the humiliation i had experienced in my previous attempts to confute him, i determined to select such subjects as would appear the most difficult to explain, and to attack the old man with vehemence. i confess, that notwithstanding my several failures, and his successful and constant elucidation and minute details in regard to occurrences which he related, and which anticipated many points i had once had in mind to question, misgivings still possessed me concerning the truthfulness of the story. if these remarkable episodes were true, could there be such a thing as fiction? if not all true, where did fact end and fancy begin? accordingly i devoted the following day to meditating my plan of attack, for i felt that i had been challenged to a final contest. late the next day, i felt confident of my own ability to dispossess him, and in order further to test his power, when night came i doubly locked the door to my room, first with the key and next with the inside bolt. i had determined to force him again to induce inert material to obey his command, as he had done at our first interview. the reader will remember that prof. chickering had deemed that occurrence an illusion, and i confess that time had dimmed the vividness of the scene in my own mind. hence i proposed to verify the matter. therefore, at the approach of nine o'clock, the evening following, i sat with my gaze riveted on the bolt of the door, determined not to answer his knock. he gave me no chance to neglect a response to his rap. exactly at the stroke of nine the door swung noiselessly on its hinges, the wizard entered, and the door closed again. the bolt had not moved, the knob did not turn. the bar passed through the catch and back to its seat,--i sprung from my chair, and excitedly and rudely rushed past my guest. i grasped the knob, wrenched it with all my might. vainly; the door was locked, the bolt was fastened. then i turned to my visitor. he was quietly seated in his accustomed place, and apparently failed to notice my discomposure, although he must have realized that he had withstood my first test. this pronounced defeat, at the very beginning of our proposed contest, produced a depressing effect; nevertheless i made an effort at self-control, and seating myself opposite, looked my antagonist in the face. calm, dignified, with the brow of a philosopher, and the countenance of a philanthropist, a perfect type of the exquisite gentleman, and the cultured scholar, my guest, as serene and complacent as though, instead of an intruder, he were an invited participant of the comforts of my fireside, or even the host himself, laid his hat upon the table, stroked his silvery, translucent beard, and said: "well?" i accepted the challenge, for the word, as he emphasized it, was a challenge, and hurled at him, in hopes to catch him unprepared, the following abrupt sentence: "i doubt the possibility of the existence of a great cavern such as you have described. the superincumbent mass of earth would crush the strongest metal. no material known to man could withstand a pressure so great as would overlie an arch as large as that you depict; material would succumb even if the roof were made of steel." "do not be so positive," he replied. "by what authority do you make this assertion?" "by the authority of common sense as opposed to an unreasonable hypothesis. you should know that there is a limit to the strength of all things, and that no substance is capable of making an arch of thousands of miles, which, according to your assertion, must have been the diameter of the roof of your inland sea." "ah," he replied, "and so you again crush my facts with your theory. well, let me ask a question." "proceed." "did you ever observe a bubble resting on a bubble?" "yes." "did you ever place a pipe-stem in a partly filled bowl of soap water, and by blowing through it fill the bowl with bubbles?" "yes." "did you ever calculate the tensile strength of the material from which you blew the bubble?" "no; for soap water has no appreciable strength." "and yet you know that a bubble made of suds has not only strength, but elasticity. suppose a bubble of energy floating in space were to be covered to the depth of the thickness of a sheet of tissue paper with the dust of space, would that surprise you?" "no." "suppose two such globes of energy, covered with dust, were to be telescoped or attached together, would you marvel at the fact?" "no." he drew a picture on a piece of paper, in which one line was inclosed by another, and remarked: "the pencil mark on this paper is proportionately thicker than the crust of the earth over the earth cavern i have described. even if it were made of soap suds, it could revolve through space and maintain its contour." "but the earth is a globe," i interjected. "you do not mean an exact globe?" "no; it is flattened at the poles." he took from his pocket two thin rubber balls, one slightly larger than the other. with his knife he divided the larger ball, cutting it into halves. he then placed one of the sections upon the perfect ball, and held the arrangement between the gas light and the wall. [illustration: fig. . a a, telescoped energy spheres.] "see; is not the shadow flattened, as your earth is, at the poles?" "yes; but the earth is not a shadow." "we will not argue that point now," he replied, and then asked: "suppose such a compound shell as this were to revolve through space and continuously collect dust, most of it of the earth's temperature, forming a fluid (water), would not that dust be propelled naturally from the poles?" "yes; according to our theory." "perhaps," said he, "the contact edge of the invisible spheres of energy which compose your earth bubbles, for planets are bubbles, that have been covered with water and soil during the time the energy bubble, which is the real bone of the globe, has been revolving through space; perhaps, could you reach the foundation of the earth dust, you would find it not a perfect sphere, but a compound skeleton, as of two bubbles locked, or rather telescoped together. [see fig. .] "are you sure that my guide did not lead me through the space between the bubbles?" then he continued: "do not be shocked at what i am about to assert, for, as a member of materialistic humanity, you will surely consider me irrational when i say that matter, materials, ponderous substances, one and all, so far as the ponderous part is concerned have no strength." "what! no strength?" "none whatever." i grasped the poker. "is not this matter?" "yes." "i can not break it." "no." "have not i strength?" "confine your argument now to the poker; we will consider you next. you can not break it." "i can break this pencil, though," and i snapped it in his face. "yes." i curled my lip in disdain. "you carry this argument too far." "why?" "i can break the pencil, i can not break the poker; had these materials not different strengths there could be no distinction; had i no strength i could not have broken either." "are you ready to listen?" he replied. "yes; but do not exasperate me." "i did not say that the combination you call a poker had no strength, neither did i assert that you could not break a pencil." "a distinction without a difference; you play upon words." "i said that matter, the ponderous side of material substances, has no strength." "and i say differently." he thrust the end of the poker into the fire, and soon drew it forth red-hot. "is it as strong as before?" "no." "heat it to whiteness and it becomes plastic." "yes." [illustration: fig. . b b, telescoped energy spheres covered with space dirt, inclosing space between.] "heat it still more and it changes to a liquid." "yes." "has liquid iron strength?" "very little, if any." "is it still matter?" "yes." "is it the material of the iron, or is it the energy called heat that qualifies the strength of the metal? it seems to me that were i in your place i would now argue that absence of heat constitutes strength," he sarcastically continued. "go on." "cool this red-hot poker by thrusting it into a pail of cold water, and it becomes very hard and brittle." "yes." "cool it slowly, and it is comparatively soft and plastic." "yes." "the material is the same, is it not?" "go on." "what strength has charcoal?" "scarcely any." "crystallize it, and the diamond results." "i did not speak of diamond." "ah! and is not the same amount of the same material present in each, a grain of diamond and a grain of charcoal? what is present in a grain of diamond that is not present in a grain of charcoal?" "go on." "answer my question." "i can not." "why does brittle, cold zinc, when heated, become first ductile, and then, at an increased temperature, become brittle again? in each case the same material is present." "i do not know; but this i do know: i am an organized being, and i have strength of body." the old man grasped the heavy iron poker with both hands, and suddenly rising to his full height, swung it about his head, then with a motion so menacing that i shrunk back into my chair and cried out in alarm, seemed about to strike, with full force, my defenseless brow. "my god," i shouted, "what have i done that you should murder me?" he lowered the weapon, and calmly asked: "suppose that i had crushed your skull--where then would be your vaunted strength?" i made no reply, for as yet i had not recovered from the mental shock. "could you then have snapped a pencil? could you have broken a reed? could you even have blown the down from a thistle bloom?" "no." "would not your material body have been intact?" "yes." "listen," said he. "matter has no strength, matter obeys spirit, and spirit dominates all things material. energy in some form holds particles of matter together, and energy in other forms loosens them. 'tis this imponderable force that gives strength to substances, not the ponderable side of the material. granite crushed is still granite, but destitute of rigidity. creatures dead are still organic structures, but devoid of strength or motion. the spirit that pervades all material things gives to them form and existence. take from your earth its vital spirit, the energy that subjects matter, and your so-called adamantine rocks would disintegrate, and sift as dust into the interstices of space. your so-called rigid globe, a shell of space dust, would dissolve, collapse, and as the spray of a burst bubble, its ponderous side would vanish in the depths of force." i sat motionless. "listen," he repeated. "you wrong your own common sense when you place dead matter above the spirit of matter. atoms come and go in their ceaseless transmigrations, worlds move, universes circulate, not because they are material bodies, but because as points of matter, in a flood of force, they obey the spirit that can blot out a sun, or dissolve the earth, as easily as it can unlink two atoms. matter is an illusion, spirit is the reality." i felt that he had silenced me against my will, and although i could not gainsay his assertions, i determined to study the subject carefully, at my leisure. "as you please," he interjected into my musings; "but since you are so determined, you would better study from books that are written by authors who know whereof they write, and who are not obliged to theorize from speculative data concerning the intrastructural earth crust." "but where can i find such works? i do not know of any." "then," said he, "perhaps it would be better to cease doubting the word of one who has acquired the knowledge to write such a book, and who has no object in misleading you." "still other questions arise," i said. "well?" "i consider the account of the intra-earth fungus intoxicant beyond the realm of fact." "in what respect?" "the perfect loss of self that resulted immediately, in an instant, after swallowing the juice of the fungous fruit, so that you could not distinguish between the real guide at your side and the phantom that sprung into existence, is incredible. [see p. .] an element of time is a factor in the operation of nerve impressions."[ ] [ ] it is well that reference was made to this point. few readers would probably notice that chapter xxxvi. begun a narcotic hallucination.--j. u. l. "have you investigated all possible anæsthetics?" he asked. "of course not." "or all possible narcotics?" "no." "how long does it require for pure prussic acid to produce its physiological action?" "i do not know." he ignored my reply, and continued: "since there exists a relative difference between the time that is required for ether and chloroform to produce insensibility, and between the actions and resultant effects of all known anæsthetics, intoxicants, and narcotics, i think you are hypercritical. some nerve excitants known to you act slowly, others quickly; why not others still instantaneously? if you can rest your assertion on any good basis, i will gladly meet your questions, but i do not accept such evidence as you now introduce, and i do not care to argue for both parties." again i was becoming irritated, for i was not satisfied with the manner in which i upheld my part of the argument, and naturally, as is usually the case with the defeated party, became incensed at my invincible antagonist. "well," i said, "i criticise your credulity. the drunkards of the drunkards' cavern were beyond all credence. i can not conceive of such abnormal creations, even in illusion. had i met with your experiences i would not have supposed, for an instant, that the fantastic shapes could have been aught but a dream, or the result of hallucination, while, without a question, you considered them real." "you are certainly pressed for subjects about which to complain when you resort to criticising the possibilities in creations of a mind under the influence of a more powerful intoxicant than is known to surface earth," he remarked. "however, i will show you that nature fashions animals in forms more fantastic than i saw, and that even these figures were not overdrawn--" without heeding his remark, i interrupted his discourse, determined to have my say: "and i furthermore question the uncouth personage you describe as your guide. would you have me believe that such a being has an existence outside an abnormal thought-creation?" "ah," he replied, "you have done well to ask these two questions in succession, for you permit me to answer both at once. listen: the monkey, of all animals, seems to approach closest to man in figure, the siamang gibon of asia, the bald-headed saki of south america, with its stub of a tail, being nearest. from these types we have great deviations as in the wanderer of india, with its whiskered face, and the black macaque of the island of celebes, with its hairy topknot, and hairless stub of a tail, or the well-known squirrel monkey, with its long supple tail, and the thumbless spider monkey, of south america. between these types we have among monkeys, nearly every conceivable shape of limb and figure, and in color of their faces and bodies, all the shades of the rainbow. "some squirrels jump and then sail through the air. the sloth can barely move on the earth. ant-eaters have no teeth at all, while the grizzly bear can crush a gun barrel with its molars. "the duck-billed platypus of south australia has the body of a mole, the tail of a raccoon, the flat bill of a duck, and the flipper of a seal, combined with the feet of a rat. it lays eggs as birds do, but suckles its young as do other mammalia. the opossum has a prehensile tail, as have some monkeys, and in addition a living bag or pouch in which the female carries her tiny young. the young of a kind of tree frog of the genus hylodes, breathe through a special organ in their tails; the young of the pipa, a great south american toad, burrow into the skin of the mother, and still another from chili, as soon as hatched, creep down the throat of the father frog, and find below the jaw an opening into a false membrane covering the entire abdomen, in which they repose in safety. three species of frogs and toads have no tongue at all, while in all the others the tongue is attached by its tip to the end of the mouth, and is free behind. the ordinary bullfrog has conspicuous great legs, while a relative, the coecilia (and others as well) have a head reminding of the frog, but neither tail nor legs, the body being elongated as if it were a worm. the long, slender fingers of a bat are united by means of a membrane that enables it to fly like a bird, while as a contrast, the fingers of a mole, its near cousin, are short and stubby, and massive as compared with its frame. the former flies through the air, the latter burrows (almost flies) through the earth. the great ant-eater has a curved head which is drawn out into a slender snout, no teeth, a long, slender tongue, a great bushy tail, and claws that neither allow the creature to burrow in the earth nor climb into trees, but which are admirably adapted to tear an ant-hill into fragments. its close relatives, the apar and armadillo, have a round body covered with bony plates, and a short, horny, curved tail, while another relative, the long-tailed pangolin, has a great alligator-like tail which, together with its body, is covered with horny, overlapping scales. "the greenland whale has an enormous head occupying more than one-third its length, no teeth, and a throat scarcely larger than that of a sucker fish. the golden mole has a body so nearly symmetrical that, were it not for the snout, it would be difficult to determine the location of the head without close inspection, and it has legs so short that, were it not for the powerful claws, they would not be observed at all. the narwhal has a straight, twisted tusk, a--" "hold, hold," i interrupted; "do you think that i am concerned in these well known contrasts in animal structure?" "did you not question the possibility of the description i gave of my grotesque drunkards, and of the form of my subterranean guide?" my guest retorted. "yes; but i spoke of men, you describe animals." "man is an animal, and between the various species of animals that you say are well known, greater distinctions can be drawn than between my guide and surface-earth man. besides, had you allowed me to proceed to a description of animal life beneath the surface of the earth, i would have shown you that my guide partook of their attributes. of the creatures described, one only was of the intra-earth origin--the mole,--and like my guide, it is practically eyeless." "go on," i said; "'tis useless for me to resist. and yet--" "and yet what?" "and yet i have other subjects to discuss." "proceed." "i do not like the way in which you constantly criticise science, especially in referring thereto the responsibilities of the crazed anatomist.[ ] it seems to me that he was a monomaniac, gifted, but crazed, and that science was unfortunate in being burdened with such an incubus." [ ] this section (see p. ) was excised, being too painful.--j. u. l. "true, and yet science advances largely by the work of such apparently heartless creatures. were it not for investigators who overstep the bounds of established methods, and thus criticise their predecessors, science would rust and disintegrate. besides, why should not science be judged by the rule she applies to others?" "what do you mean?" "who is more free to criticise religion than the materialistic man of science?" "but a religious man is not cruel." "have you not read history? have you not shuddered at the crimes recorded in the name of the religions of man?" "yes; but these cruelties were committed by misguided men under the cloak of the church, or of false religions, during the dark ages. do not blame religion, but the men who abused the cause." "yes," he added, "you are right; they were fanatics, crazed beings, men; yes, even communities, raving mad. crazed leaders can infuse the minds of the people with their fallacies, and thus become leaders of crazed nations. not, as i have depicted in my scientific enthusiast, one man alone in the privacy of his home torturing a single child, but whole nations pillaging, burning, torturing, and destroying. but this is foreign to our subject. beware, i reiterate, of the science of human biology. the man who enters the field can not foresee the end, the man who studies the science of life, and records his experiments, can not know the extremes to which a fanatical follower may carry the thought-current of his leader. i have not overdrawn the lesson. besides, science is now really torturing, burning, maiming, and destroying humanity. the act of destruction has been transferred from barbarians and the fanatic in religion to the follower of the devotees of science." "no; i say, no." "who created the steam engine? who evolves improved machinery? who creates improved artillery, and explosives? scientific men." he hesitated. "go on." "accumulate the maimed and destroyed each year; add together the miseries and sorrows that result from the explosions, accidents, and catastrophes resulting from science improvements, and the dark ages scarcely offer a parallel. add thereto the fearful destruction that follows a war among nations scientific, and it will be seen that the scientific enthusiast of the present has taken the place of the misguided fanatic of the past. let us be just. place to the credit of religion the good that religion has done, place to the credit of science the good that science is doing, and yet do not mistake, both leave in their wake an atmosphere saturated with misery, a road whitened with humanity's bones. neither the young nor the old are spared, and so far as the sufferer is concerned it matters not whether the person has been racked by the tortures of an inquisition, or the sword of an infidel, is shrieking in the agony of a scald by super-heated steam, or is mangled by an explosion of nitroglycerin." again he hesitated. "go on." "one of science's most serious responsibilities, from which religion has nearly escaped, is that of supplying thought-food to fanatics, and from this science can not escape." "explain yourself." "who places the infidel in possession of arguments to combat sacred teachings? who deliberately tortures animals, and suggests that biological experimentation in the name of science, before cultured audiences even, is legitimate, such as making public dissections of living creatures?" "enough, enough," i cried, thinking of his crazed anatomist, and covering my face with my hands; "you make my blood creep." "yes," he added sarcastically; "you shudder now and criticise my truthful study, and to-morrow you will forget the lesson, and perhaps for dinner you will relish your dish of veal, the favorite food of mothers, the nearest approach to the flesh of babies." then his manner changed, and in his usual mild, pleasant way, he said: "take what i have said kindly; i wish only to induce your religious part to have more charity for your scientific self, and the reverse. both religion and science are working towards the good of man, although their devotees are human, and by human errors bring privations, sufferings, and sorrows to men. neither can fill the place of the other; each should extend a helping hand, and have charity for the shortcomings of the other; they are not antagonists, but workers in one field; both must stand the criticisms of mutual antagonists, and both have cause to fear the evils of fanaticism within their own ranks more than the attacks of opponents from without. let the religious enthusiast exercise care; his burning, earnest words may lead a weak-minded father to murder an innocent family, and yet 'tis not religion that commits the crime. let the zealous scientific man hesitate; he piles up fuel by which minds unbalanced, or dispositions perverted, seek to burn and destroy hopes that have long served the yearnings of humanity's soul. neither pure religion nor true science is to blame for the acts of its devotees, and yet each must share the responsibility of its human agents." "we will discuss the subject no further," i said; "it is not agreeable." then i continued: "the idea of eternity without time is not quite clear to me, although i catch an imperfect conception of the argument advanced. do you mean to say that when a soul leaves the body, the earth life of the individual, dominated by the soul, is thrown off from it as is the snap of a whip-lash, and that into the point between life and death, the hereafter of that mortal may be concentrated?" "i simply give you the words of my guide," he replied, "but you have expressed the idea about as well as your word language will admit. such a conception of eternity is more rational to one who, like myself, has lived through an instant that covered, so far as mind is concerned, a million years of time, than is an attempt to grasp a conception of an eternity, without beginning or end, by basing an argument on conditions governing material substances, as these substances are known to man. you have the germ of the idea which may be simply a thought for you to ponder over; you can study the problem at your leisure. do not, however, i warn you, attempt to comprehend the notion of eternity by throwing into it the conception of time as men accept that term, for the very word time, as men define it, demands that there be both a beginning and an end. with the sense of time in one's mind, there can be no conception of the term eternity." then, as i had so often done before, i unwarily gave him an opportunity to enlarge on his theme, to my disadvantage. i had determined not to ask any questions concerning his replies to my criticism, for whenever i had previously done so, the result had been disastrous to me. in this case i unwittingly said: "why do you say that our language will not permit of clearer conceptions than you give?" "because your education does not permit you to think outside of words; you are word-bound." "you astonish me by making such an arrogant assertion. do you mean to assert that i can not think without using words?" "yes. every thought you indulge in is circumscribed. you presumably attempt to throw a thought-line forward, and yet you step backward and spin it in words that have been handed you from the past, and, struggle as you may, you can not liberate yourself from the dead incubus. attempt to originate an idea, and see if you can escape your word-master?" "go on; i am listening." "men scientific think in language scientific. men poetical think in language poetic. all educated men use words in thinking of their subjects, words that came to them from the past, and enslave their intellect. thus it is that the novelist can not make fiction less real than is fact; that scientists can not commence at the outside, and build a theory back to phenomena understood. in each case the foundation of a thought is a word that in the very beginning carries to the mind a meaning, a something from the past. each thought ramification is an offshoot from words that express ideas and govern ideas, yes, create ideas, even dominating the mind. men speak of ideas when they intend to refer to an image in the mind, but in reality they have no ideas outside of the word sentences they unconsciously reformulate. define the term idea correctly, and it will be shown that an idea is a sentence, and if a sentence is made of words already created, there can be no new idea, for every word has a fixed meaning. hence, when men think, they only rearrange words that carry with themselves networks of ideas, and thus play upon their several established meanings. how can men so circumscribed construct a new idea or teach a new science?" "new words are being created." "language is slowly progressing, but no new word adds itself to a language; it is linked to thought-chains that precede. in order to create a word, as a rule, roots are used that are as established in philology as are building materials in architecture. when a new sound is thrust into a language, its intent must be introduced by words already known, after which it conveys a meaning derived from the past, and becomes a part of mind sentences already constructed, as it does of spoken language. language has thus been painfully and slowly evolved and is still being enlarged, but while new impressions may be felt by an educated person, the formulated feeling is inseparable, from well-known surviving words." "some men are dumb." "yes; and yet they frame mind-impressions into unspoken words of their own, otherwise they would be scarcely more than animals. place an uneducated dumb person in a room with a complicated instrument, and although he may comprehend its uses, he can not do so unless he frames sense-impressions into, what is to him, a formulated mind-word sequence." "but he can think about it." "no; unless he has already constructed previous impressions into word-meanings of his own, he can not think about it at all. words, whether spoken or unspoken, underlie all ideas. try, if you believe i am mistaken, try to think of any subject outside of words?" i sat a moment, and mentally attempted the task, and shook my head. "then," said the old man, "how can i use words with established meanings to convey to your senses an entirely new idea? if i use new sounds, strung together, they are not words to you, and convey no meaning; if i use words familiar, they reach backward as well as forward. thus it is possible to instruct you, by a laborious course of reasoning, concerning a phenomenon that is connected with phenomena already understood by you, for your word-language can be thrust out from the parent stalk, and can thus follow the outreaching branches. however, in the case of phenomena that exist on other planes, or are separated from any known material, or force, as is the true conception that envelops the word eternity, there being neither connecting materials, forces, nor words to unite the outside with the inside, the known with the unknown, how can i tell you more than i have done? you are word-bound." "nevertheless, i still believe that i can think outside of words." "well, perhaps after you attempt to do so, and fail again and again, you will appreciate that a truth is a truth, humiliating as it may be to acknowledge the fact." "a digger indian has scarcely a word-language," i asserted, loth to relinquish the argument. "you can go farther back if you desire, back to primitive man; man without language at all, and with ideas as circumscribed as those of the brutes, and still you have not strengthened your argument concerning civilized man. but you are tired, i see." "yes; tired of endeavoring to combat your assertions. you invariably lead me into the realms of speculation, and then throw me upon the defensive by asking me to prove my own theories, or with apparent sincerity, you advance an unreasonable hypothesis, and then, before i am aware of your purpose, force me to acquiesce because i can not find facts to confute you. you very artfully throw the burden of proof on me in all cases, for either by physical comparisons that i can not make, i must demonstrate the falsity of your metaphysical assertions, or by abstract reasonings disprove statements you assert to be facts." "you are peevish and exhausted, or you would perceive that i have generally allowed you to make the issue, and more than once have endeavored to dissuade you from doing so. besides, did i not several times in the past bring experimental proof to dispel your incredulity? have i not been courteous?" "yes," i petulantly admitted; "yes." then i determined to imitate his artful methods, and throw him upon the defensive as often as he had done with me. i had finally become familiar with his process of arguing a question, for, instead of coming immediately to his subject, he invariably led by circuitous route to the matter under discussion. before reaching the point he would manage to commit me to his own side of the subject, or place me in a defenseless position. so with covert aim i began: "i believe that friction is one method of producing heat." "yes." "i have been told that the north american indians make fires by rubbing together two pieces of dry wood." "true." "i have understood that the light of a shooting star results from the heat of friction, producing combustion of its particles." "partly," he answered. "that when the meteoric fragment of space dust strikes the air, the friction resulting from its velocity heats it to redness, fuses its surface, or even burns its very substance into ashes." "yes." "i have seen the spindle of a wheel charred by friction." "yes." "i have drawn a wire rapidly through a handkerchief tightly grasped in my hands, and have warmed the wire considerably in doing so." "yes." i felt that i had him committed to my side of the question, and i prepared to force him to disprove the possibility of one assertion that he had made concerning his journey. "you stated that you rode in a boat on the underground lake." "yes." "with great rapidity?" "yes." "rapid motion produces friction, i believe?" "yes." "and heat?" "yes." "why did not your boat become heated even to redness? you rode at the rate of nine hundred miles an hour," i cried exultingly. "for two reasons," he calmly replied; "two natural causes prevented such a catastrophe." and again he warned me, as he had done before, by saying: "while you should not seek for supernatural agencies to account for any phenomena in life, for all that is is natural, neither should you fail to study the differences that varying conditions produce in results already known. a miracle ceases to be a miracle when we understand the scientific cause underlying the wonder; occultism is natural, for if there be occult phenomena they must be governed by natural law; mystery is not mysterious if the veil of ignorance that envelops the investigator is lifted. what you have said is true concerning the heat that results from friction, but-- "first, the attraction of gravitation was inconsiderable where the boat, to which you refer, rested on the water. "second, the changing water carried away the heat as fast as it was produced. while it is true that a cannon ball becomes heated in its motion through the air, its surface is cooled when it strikes a body of water, notwithstanding that its great velocity is altogether overcome by the water. the friction between the water and the iron does not result in heated iron, but the contrary. the water above the rapids of a river has practically the temperature of the water below the rapids, regardless of the friction that ensues between these points. admit, however, that heat is liberated as the result of the friction of solids with water, and still it does not follow that this heat will perceptibly affect the solid. with a boat each particle of water carries the heat away, each succeeding portion of water takes up the heat liberated by that preceding it. thus the great body of water, over which our boat sped, in obedience to the ordinary law, became slightly warmed, but its effect upon the boat was scarcely perceptible. your comparison of the motion of a meteor, with that of our boat, was unhappy. we moved rapidly, it is true, in comparison with the motion of vessels such as you know, but comparison can not be easily drawn between the velocity of a boat and that of a meteor. while we moved at the rate of many miles a minute, a meteor moves many times faster, perhaps as many miles in a second. then you must remember that the force of gravitation was so slight in our position that--" "enough," i interrupted. "we will pass the subject. it seems that you draw upon science for knowledge to support your arguments, however irrational they may be, and then you sneer at this same method of argument when i employ it." he replied to my peevish complaint with the utmost respect by calling to my attention the fact that my own forced argument had led to the answer, and that he had simply replied to my attacks. said he: "if i am wrong in my philosophy, based on your science thought, i am right in my facts, and science thought is thus in the wrong, for facts overbalance theory. i ask you only to give me the attention that my statements merit. i am sincere, and aim to serve your interests. should investigation lead you hereafter to infer that i am in error, at our final interview you can have my considerate attention. be more charitable, please." then he added: "is there any other subject you wish to argue?" "yes," i answered, and again my combativeness arose; "yes. one of the truly edifying features of your narrative is that of the intelligent guide," and i emphasized the word intelligent, and curled up my lip in a sarcastic manner. "proceed." "he was verily a wonderful being; an eyeless creature, and yet possessed of sight and perception beyond that of mortal man; a creature who had been locked in the earth, and yet was more familiar with its surface than a philosopher; a cavern-bred monstrosity, and yet possessed of the mind of a sage; he was a scientific expert, a naturalist, a metaphysical reasoner, a critic of religion, and a prophet. he could see in absolute darkness as well as in daylight; without a compass he could guide a boat over a trackless sea, and could accomplish feats that throw gulliver and munchausen into disrepute." in perfect composure my aged guest listened to my cynical, and almost insulting tirade. he made no effort to restrain my impetuous sentences, and when i had finished replied in the polished language of a scholarly gentleman. "you state truly, construe my words properly, as well as understand correctly." then he continued musingly, as though speaking to himself: "i would be at fault and deserve censure did i permit doubts to be thrown upon so clear a subject, or discredit on so magnanimous a person." turning to me he continued: "certainly i did not intend to mislead or to be misunderstood, and am pleased to find you so earnest a scholar." and then in his soft, mild manner, he commenced his detail reply, pouring oil upon the waters of my troubled soul, his sweet, melodious voice being so in contrast to my rash harangue. he began with his expressive and often repeated word, "listen." [illustration: "we passed through caverns filled with creeping reptiles."] "listen. you are right, my guide was a being wonderful to mortals. he was eyeless, but as i have shown you before, and now swear to the fact, was not sightless; surely," he said, "surely you have not forgotten that long ago i considered the phenomenal instinct at length. he predicted the future by means of his knowledge of the past--there is nothing wonderful in that. can not a civil engineer continue a line into the beyond, and predict where the projection of that line will strike; can he not also calculate the effect that a curve will have on his line's destiny? why should a being conversant with the lines and curves of humanity's journey for ages past not be able to indicate the lines that men must follow in the future? of course he could guide the boat, in what was to me a trackless waste of water, but you err in asserting that i had said he did not have a guide, even if it were not a compass. many details concerning this journey have not been explained to you; indeed, i have acquainted you with but little that i experienced. near surface earth we passed through caverns filled with creeping reptiles; through others we were surrounded by flying creatures, neither beast nor bird; we passed through passages of ooze and labyrinths of apparently interminable intra-earth structures; to have disported on such features of my journey would have been impracticable. from time to time i experienced strains of melody, such as never before had i conceived, seemingly choruses of angels were singing in and to my very soul. from empty space about me, from out the crevices beyond and behind me, from the depths of my spirit within me, came these strains in notes clear and distinct, but yet indescribable. did i fancy, or was it real? i will not pretend to say. flowers and structures beautiful, insects gorgeous and inexplicable were spread before me. figures and forms i can not attempt to indicate in word descriptions, ever and anon surrounded, accompanied, and passed me by. the canvas conceptions of earth-bred artists bring to mind no forms so strange and weird and yet so beautiful as were these compound beings. restful beyond description was it to drink in the indescribable strains of poetry of motion that i appreciated in the movements of fair creatures i have not mentioned, and it was no less soothing to experience the soul relief wrought by the sounds about me, for musicians know no notes so sweet and entrancing. "there were also, in side caverns to which i was led, combinations of sounds and scenes in which floating strains and fleeting figures were interwoven and interlaced so closely that the senses of both sight and hearing became blended into a single sense, new, weird, strange, and inexpressible. as flavor is the combination of odor and taste, and is neither taste nor odor, so these sounds and scenes combined were neither scenes nor sounds, but a complex sensation, new, delicious. sometimes i begged to be permitted to stop and live forever 'mid those heavenly charms, but with as firm a hand as when helping me through the chambers of mire, ooze, and creeping reptiles, my guide drew me onward. "but to return to the subject. as to my guide being a cavern-bred monstrosity, i do not remember to have said that he was cavern-bred, and if i have forgotten a fact, i regret my short memory. did i say that he was always a cavern being? did i assert that he had never lived among mortals of upper earth? if so, i do not remember our conversation on that subject. he was surely a sage in knowledge, as you have experienced from my feeble efforts in explaining the nature of phenomena that were to you unknown, and yet have been gained by me largely through his instruction. he was a metaphysician, as you assert; you are surely right; he was a sincere, earnest reasoner and teacher. he was a conscientious student, and did not by any word lead me to feel that he did not respect all religions, and bow to the creator of the universe, its sciences, and its religions. his demeanor was most considerate, his methods faultless, his love of nature deep, his patience inexhaustible, his sincerity unimpeachable. yes," the old man said; "you are right in your admiration of this lovely personage, and when you come to meet this being as you are destined yet to do--for know now that you too will some day pass from surface earth, and leave only your name in connection with this story of myself--you will surely then form a still greater love and a deeper respect for one so gifted, and yet so self-sacrificing." "old man," i cried, "you mock me. i spoke facetiously, and you answer literally. know that i have no confidence in your sailor-like tales, your marco polo history." "ah! you discredit marco polo? and why do you doubt?" "because i have never seen such phenomena, i have never witnessed such occurrences. i must see a thing to believe it." "and so you believe only what you see?" he queried. "yes." "now answer promptly," he commanded, and his manner changed as by magic to that of a master. "did you ever see greenland?" "no." "iceland?" "no." "a geyser?" "no." "a whale?" "no." "england?" "no." "france?" "no." "a walrus?" "no." "then you do not believe that these conditions, countries, and animals have an existence?" "of course they have." "why?" "others have seen them." "ah," he said; "then you wish to modify your assertion--you only believe what others have seen?" "excepting one person," i retorted. then he continued, seemingly not having noticed my personal allusion: "have you ever seen your heart?" i hesitated. "answer," he commanded. "no." "your stomach?" "no." "have you seen the stomach of any of your friends?" "no." "the back of your head?" i became irritated, and made no reply. "answer," he again commanded. "i have seen its reflection in a glass." "i say no," he replied; "you have not." "you are impudent," i exclaimed. "not at all," he said, good humoredly; "how easy it is to make a mistake. i venture to say that you have never seen the reflection of the back of your head in a mirror." "your presumption astounds me." "i will leave it to yourself." he took a hand-glass from the table and held it behind my head. "now, do you see the reflection?" "no; the glass is behind me." "ah, yes; and so is the back of your head." "look," i said, pointing to the great mirror on the bureau; "look, there is the reflection of the back of my head." "no; it is the reflection of the reflection in my hand-glass." "you have tricked me; you quibble!" "well," he said, ignoring my remark; "what do you believe?" "i believe what others have seen, and what i can do." "excluding myself as to what others have seen," he said facetiously. "perhaps," i answered, relenting somewhat. "has any man of your acquaintance seen the middle of africa?" "no." "the center of the earth?" "no." "the opposite side of the moon?" "no." "the soul of man?" "no." "heat, light, electricity?" "no." "then you do not believe that africa has a midland, the earth a center, the moon an opposite side, man a soul, force an existence?" "you distort my meaning." "well, i ask questions in accord with your suggestions, and you defeat yourself. you have now only one point left. you believe only what _you_ can do?" [illustration: "flowers and structures beautiful, insects gorgeous."] "yes." "i will rest this case on one statement, then, and you may be the judge." "agreed." "you can not do what any child in cincinnati can accomplish. i assert that any other man, any other woman in the city can do more than you can. no cripple is so helpless, no invalid so feeble as not, in this respect, to be your superior." "you insult me," i again retorted, almost viciously. "do you dispute the assertion seriously?" "yes." "well, let me see you kiss your elbow." involuntarily i twisted my arm so as to bring the elbow towards my mouth, then, as i caught the full force of his meaning, the ridiculous result of my passionate wager came over me, and i laughed aloud. it was a change of thought from the sublime to the ludicrous. the white-haired guest smiled in return, and kindly said: "it pleases me to find you in good humor at last. i will return to-morrow evening and resume the reading of my manuscript. in the meantime take good exercise, eat heartily, and become more cheerful." he rose and bowed himself out. the old man continues his manuscript. chapter xliv. the fathomless abyss.--the edge of the earth shell. promptly at eight o'clock the next evening the old man entered my room. he did not allude to the occurrences of the previous evening, and for this considerate treatment i felt thankful, as my part in those episodes had not been enviable. he placed his hat on the table, and in his usual cool and deliberate manner, commenced reading as follows: for a long time thereafter we journeyed on in silence, now amid stately stone pillars, then through great cliff openings or among gigantic formations that often stretched away like cities or towns dotted over a plain, to vanish in the distance. then the scene changed, and we traversed magnificent avenues, bounded by solid walls which expanded into lofty caverns of illimitable extent, from whence we found ourselves creeping through narrow crevices and threading winding passages barely sufficient to admit our bodies. for a considerable period i had noted the absence of water, and as we passed from grotto to temple reared without hands, it occurred to me that i could not now observe evidence of water erosion in the stony surface over which we trod, and which had been so abundant before we reached the lake. my guide explained by saying in reply to my thought question, that we were beneath the water line. he said that liquids were impelled back towards the earth's surface from a point unnoticed by me, but long since passed. neither did i now experience hunger nor thirst, in the slightest degree, a circumstance which my guide assured me was perfectly natural in view of the fact that there was neither waste of tissue nor consumption of heat in my present organism. [illustration: "with fear and trembling i crept on my knees to his side."] at last i observed far in the distance a slanting sheet of light that, fan-shaped, stood as a barrier across the way; beyond it neither earth nor earth's surface appeared. as we approached, the distinctness of its outline disappeared, and when we came nearer, i found that it streamed into the space above, from what appeared to be a crevice or break in the earth that stretched across our pathway, and was apparently limitless and bottomless. "is this another hallucination?" i queried. "no; it is a reality. let us advance to the brink." slowly we pursued our way, for i hesitated and held back. i had really begun to distrust my own senses, and my guide in the lead was even forced to demonstrate the feasibility of the way, step by step, before i could be induced to follow. at length we neared the edge of the chasm, and while he stood boldly upright by the brink, with fear and trembling i crept on my knees to his side, and together we faced a magnificent but fearful void that stretched beneath and beyond us, into a profundity of space. i peered into the chamber of light, that indescribable gulf of brilliancy, but vainly sought for an opposite wall; there was none. as far as the eye could reach, vacancy, illuminated vacancy, greeted my vision. the light that sprung from that void was not dazzling, but was possessed of a beauty that no words can suggest. i peered downward, and found that we stood upon the edge of a shelving ledge of stone that receded rapidly beneath us, so that we seemed to rest upon the upper side of its wedge-like edge. i strained my vision to catch a glimpse of the bottom of this chasm, but although i realized that my eyes were glancing into miles and miles of space, there was no evidence of earthly material other than the brink upon which we stood. the limit of vision seemed to be bounded by a silvery blending of light with light, light alone, only light. the dead silence about, and the new light before me, combined to produce a weird sensation, inexplicable, overpowering. a speck of dust on the edge of immensity, i clung to the stone cliff, gazing into the depths of that immeasurable void. chapter xlv. my heart throb is stilled, and yet i live. "it now becomes my duty to inform you that this is one of the stages in our journey that can only be passed by the exercise of the greatest will force. owing to our former surroundings upon the surface of the earth, and to your inheritance of a so-called instinctive education, you would naturally suppose that we are now on the brink of an impassable chasm. this sphere of material vacuity extends beneath us to a depth that i am sure you will be astonished to learn is over six thousand miles. we may now look straight into the earth cavity, and this streaming light is the reflected purity of the space below. the opposite side of this crevice, out of sight by reason of its distance, but horizontally across from where we stand, is precipitous and comparatively solid, extending upward to the material that forms the earth's surface. we have, during our journey, traversed an oblique, tortuous natural passage, that extends from the spot at which you entered the cave in kentucky, diagonally down into the crust of the globe, terminating in this shelving bluff. i would recall to your mind that your journey up to this time has been of your own free will and accord. at each period of vacillation--and you could not help but waver occasionally--you have been at liberty to return to surface earth again, but each time you decided wisely to continue your course. you can now return if your courage is not sufficient to overcome your fear, but this is the last opportunity you will have to reconsider, while in my company." "have others overcome the instinctive terrors to which you allude?" "yes; but usually the dread of death, or an unbearable uncertainty, compels the traveler to give up in despair before reaching this spot, and the opportunity of a lifetime is lost. yes; an opportunity that occurs only in the lifetime of one person out of millions, of but few in our brotherhood." "then i can return if i so elect?" "certainly." "will you inform me concerning the nature of the obstacle i have to overcome, that you indicate by your vague references?" "we must descend from this cliff." "you can not be in earnest." "why?" "do you not see that the stone recedes from beneath us, that we stand on the edge of a wedge overhanging bottomless space?" "that i understand." "there is no ladder," and then the foolish remark abashed me as i thought of a ladder six thousand miles in length. "go on." he made no reference to my confusion. "there is practically no bottom," i asserted, "if i can believe your words; you told me so." "and that i reiterate." "the feat is impracticable, impossible, and only a madman would think of trying to descend into such a depth of space." then an idea came over me; perhaps there existed a route at some other point of the earth's crevice by which we could reach the under side of the stone shelf, and i intimated as much to the guide. "no; we must descend from this point, for it is the only entrance to the hollow beneath." we withdrew from the brink, and i meditated in silence. then i crept again to the edge of the bluff, and lying flat on my chest, craned my head over, and peered down into the luminous gulf. the texture of the receding mineral was distinctly visible for a considerable distance, and then far, far beneath all semblance to material form disappeared--as the hull of a vessel fades in deep, clear water. as i gazed into the gulf it seemed evident that, as a board floating in water is bounded by water, this rock really ended. i turned to my guide and questioned him. "stone in this situation is as cork," he replied; "it is nearly devoid of weight; your surmise is correct. we stand on the shelving edge of a cliff of earthly matter, that in this spot slants upward from beneath like the bow of a boat. we have reached the bottom of the film of space dust on the bubble of energy that forms the skeleton of earth." i clutched the edge of the cliff with both hands. "be not frightened; have i not told you that if you wish to return you can do so. now hearken to me: "a short time ago you endeavored to convince me that we could not descend from this precipice, and you are aware that your arguments were without foundation. you drew upon your knowledge of earth materials, as you once learned them, and realized at the time that you deluded yourself in doing so, for you know that present conditions are not such as exist above ground. you are now influenced by surroundings that are entirely different from those that govern the lives of men upon the earth's surface. you are almost without weight. you have nearly ceased to breathe, as long since you discovered, and soon i hope will agree entirely to suspend that harsh and wearying movement. your heart scarcely pulsates, and if you go with me farther in this journey, will soon cease to beat." i started up and turned to flee, but he grasped and held me firmly. "would you murder me? do you think i will mutely acquiesce, while you coolly inform me of your inhuman intent, and gloat over the fact that my heart will soon be as stone, and that i will be a corpse?" he attempted to break in, but i proceeded in frenzy. "i _will_ return to upper earth, to sunshine and humanity. i _will_ retreat while yet in health and strength, and although i have in apparent willingness accompanied you to this point, learn now that at all times i have been possessed of the means to defend myself from personal violence." i drew from my pocket the bar of iron. "see, this i secreted about my person in the fresh air of upper earth, the sweet sunshine of heaven, fearing that i might fall into the hands of men with whom i must combat. back, back," i cried. he released his hold of my person, and folded his arms upon his breast, then quietly faced me, standing directly between myself and the passage we had trod, while i stood on the brink, my back to that fearful chasm. by a single push he could thrust me into the fathomless gulf below, and with the realization of that fact, i felt that it was now a life and death struggle. with every muscle strained to its utmost tension, with my soul on fire, my brain frenzied, i drew back the bar of iron to smite the apparently defenseless being in the forehead, but he moved not, and as i made the motion, he calmly remarked: "do you remember the history of hiram abiff?" [illustration: "i drew back the bar of iron to smite the apparently defenseless being in the forehead."] the hand that held the weapon dropped as if stricken by paralysis, and a flood of recollections concerning my lost home overcame me. i had raised my hand against a brother, the only being of my kind who could aid me, or assist me either to advance or recede. how could i, unaided, recross that glassy lake, and pass through the grotesque forests of fungi and the labyrinth of crystal grottoes of the salt bed? how could i find my way in the utter darkness that existed in the damp, soppy, dripping upper caverns that i must retrace before i could hope to reach the surface of the earth? "forgive me," i sobbed, and sunk at his feet. "forgive me, my friend, my brother; i have been wild, mad, am crazed." he made no reply, but pointed over my shoulder into the space beyond. i turned, and in the direction indicated, saw, in amazement, floating in the distant space a snow- and ice-clad vessel in full sail. she was headed diagonally from us, and was moving rapidly across the field of vision. every spar and sail was clearly defined, and on her deck, and in the rigging i beheld sailors clad in winter garments pursuing their various duties. as i gazed, enraptured, she disappeared in the distance. "a phantom vessel," i murmured. "no," he replied; "the abstraction of a vessel sailing on the ocean above us. every object on earth is the second to an imprint in another place. there is an apparent reproduction of matter in so-called vacancy, and on unseen pages a recording of all events. as that ship sailed over the ocean above us, she disturbed a current of energy, and it left its impress as an outline on a certain zone beneath, which is parallel with that upon which we now chance to stand." "i can not comprehend," i muttered. "no," he answered; "to you it seems miraculous, as to all men an unexplained phenomenon approaches the supernatural. all that is is natural. have men not been told in sacred writings that their every movement is being recorded in the book of life, and do they not often doubt because they can not grasp the problem? may not the greatest scientist be the most apt skeptic?" "yes," i replied. "you have just seen," he said, "the record of an act on earth, and in detail it is being printed elsewhere in the book of eternity. if you should return to earth's surface you could not by stating these facts convince even the persons on that same ship, of your sanity. you could not make them believe that hundreds of miles beneath, both their vessel and its crew had been reproduced in fac simile, could you?" "no." "were you to return to earth you could not convince men that you had existed without breath, with a heart dead within you. if you should try to impress on mankind the facts that you have learned in this journey, what would be the result?" "i would probably be considered mentally deranged; this i have before admitted." "would it not be better then," he continued, "to go with me, by your own free will, into the unknown future, which you need fear less than a return to the scoffing multitude amid the storms of upper earth? you know that i have not at any time deceived you. i have, as yet, only opened before you a part of one rare page out of the boundless book of nature; you have tasted of the sweets of which few persons in the flesh have sipped, and i now promise you a further store of knowledge that is rich beyond conception, if you wish to continue your journey." "what if i decide to return?" "i will retrace my footsteps and liberate you upon the surface of the earth, as i have others, for few persons have courage enough to pass this spot." "binding me to an oath of secrecy?" [illustration: "sprung from the edge of the cliff into the abyss below, carrying me with him into its depths."] "no," he answered; "for if you relate these events men will consider you a madman, and the more clearly you attempt to explain the facts that you have witnessed, the less they will listen to you; such has been the fate of others." "it is, indeed, better for me to go with you," i said musingly; "to that effect my mind is now made up, my course is clear, i am ready." with a motion so quick in conception, and rapid in execution that i was taken altogether by surprise, with a grasp so powerful that i could not have repelled him, had i expected the movement and tried to protect myself, the strange man, or being beside me, threw his arms around my body. then, as a part of the same movement, he raised me bodily from the stone, and before i could realize the nature of his intention, sprung from the edge of the cliff into the abyss below, carrying me with him into its depths. chapter xlvi. the inner circle, or the end of gravitation.--in the bottomless gulf. i recall a whirling sensation, and an involuntary attempt at self-preservation, in which i threw my arms wildly about with a vain endeavor to clutch some form of solid body, which movement naturally ended by a tight clasping of my guide in my arms, and locked together we continued to speed down into the seven thousand miles of vacancy. instinctively i murmured a prayer of supplication, and awaited the approaching hereafter, which, as i believed, would quickly witness the extinction of my unhappy life, the end of my material existence; but the moments (if time can be so divided when no sun marks the division) multiplied without bodily shock or physical pain of any description; i retained my consciousness. "open your eyes," said my guide, "you have no cause for fear." i acquiesced in an incredulous, dazed manner. "this unusual experience is sufficient to unnerve you, but you need have no fear, for you are not in corporal danger, and can relax your grasp on my person." i cautiously obeyed him, misgivingly, and slowly loosened my hold, then gazed about to find that we were in a sea of light, and that only light was visible, that form of light which i have before said is an entity without source of radiation. in one direction, however, a great gray cloud hung suspended and gloomy, dark in the center, and shading therefrom in a circle, to disappear entirely at an angle of about forty-five degrees. "this is the earth-shelf from which we sprung," said the guide; "it will soon disappear." wherever i glanced this radiant exhalation, a peaceful, luminous envelope, this rich, soft, beautiful white light appeared. the power of bodily motion i found still a factor in my frame, obedient, as before, to my will. i could move my limbs freely, and my intellect seemed to be intact. finally i became impressed with the idea that i must be at perfect rest, but if so what could be the nature of the substance, or material, upon which i was resting so complacently? no; this could not be true. then i thought: "i have been instantly killed by a painless shock, and my spirit is in heaven;" but my earthly body and coarse, ragged garments were palpable realities; the sense of touch, sight, and hearing surely were normal, and a consideration of these facts dispelled my first conception. "where are we now?" "moving into earth's central space." "i comprehend that a rushing wind surrounds us which is not uncomfortable, but otherwise i experience no unusual sensation, and can not realize but that i am at rest." "the sensation, as of a blowing wind, is in consequence of our rapid motion, and results from the friction between our bodies and the quiescent, attenuated atmosphere which exists even here, but this atmosphere becomes less and less in amount until it will disappear altogether at a short distance below us. soon we will be in a perfect calm, and although moving rapidly, to all appearances will be at absolute rest." naturally, perhaps, my mind attempted, as it so often had done, to urge objections to his statements, and at first it occurred to me that i did not experience the peculiar sinking away sensation in the chest that i remembered follows, on earth, the downward motion of a person falling from a great height, or moving rapidly in a swing, and i questioned him on the absence of that phenomenon. "the explanation is simple," he said; "on the surface of the earth a sudden motion, either upward or downward, disturbs the equilibrium of the organs of respiration, and of the heart, and interferes with the circulation of the blood. this produces a change in blood pressure within the brain, and the 'sinking' sensation in the chest, or the dizziness of the head of a person moving rapidly, or it may even result in unconsciousness, and complete suspension of respiration, effects which sometimes follow rapid movements, as in a person falling from a considerable height. here circumstances are entirely different. the heart is quiet, the lungs in a comatose condition, and the blood stagnant. mental sensations, therefore, that result from a disturbed condition of these organs are wanting, and, although we are experiencing rapid motion, we are in the full possession of our physical selves, and maintain our mental faculties unimpaired." again i interposed an objection: "if, as you say, we are really passing through an attenuated atmosphere with increasing velocity, according to the law that governs falling bodies that are acted upon by gravity which continually accelerates their motion, the friction between ourselves and the air will ultimately become so intense as to wear away our bodies." "upon the contrary," said he, "this attenuated atmosphere is decreasing in density more rapidly than our velocity increases, and before long it will have altogether disappeared. you can perceive that the wind, as you call it, is blowing less violently than formerly; soon it will entirely cease, as i have already predicted, and at that period, regardless of our motion, we will appear to be stationary." pondering over the final result of this strange experience i became again alarmed, for accepting the facts to be as he stated, such motion would ultimately carry us against the opposite crust of the earth, and without a doubt the shock would end our existence. i inquired about this, to me, self-evident fact, and he replied: "long before we reach the opposite crust of the earth, our motion will be arrested." i had begun now to feel a self-confidence that is surprising as i recall that remarkable position in connection with my narrow experience in true science, and can say that instead of despondency, i really enjoyed an elated sensation, a curious exhilaration, a feeling of delight, which i have no words to describe. life disturbances and mental worry seemed to have completely vanished, and it appeared as if, with mental perception lucid, i were under the influence of a powerful soporific; the cares of mortals had disappeared. after a while the wind ceased to blow, as my guide had predicted, and with the suspension of that factor, all that remained to remind me of earth phenomena had vanished. there was no motion of material, nothing to mar or disturb the most perfect peace imaginable; i was so exquisitely happy that i now actually feared some change might occur to interrupt that quiescent existence. it was as a deep, sweet sleep in which, with faculties alive, unconsciousness was self-conscious, peaceful, restful, blissful. i listlessly turned my eyes, searching space in all directions--to meet vacancy everywhere, absolute vacancy. i took from my pocket (into which i had hastily thrust it) the bar of iron, and released it; the metal remained motionless beside me. "traveling through this expanse with the rapidity of ourselves," said my guide. i closed my eyes and endeavored to convince myself that i was dreaming--vainly, however. i opened my eyes, and endeavored to convince myself that i was moving, equally in vain. i became oblivious to everything save the delicious sensation of absolute rest that enveloped and pervaded my being. "i am neither alive nor dead," i murmured; "neither asleep nor awake; neither moving nor at rest, and neither standing, reclining, nor sitting. if i exist i can not bring evidence to prove that fact, neither can i prove that i am dead." "can any man prove either of these premises?" said the guide. "i have never questioned the matter," said i; "it is a self-evident fact." "know then," said he, "that existence is a theory, and that man is incapable of demonstrating that he has a being. all evidences of mortal life are only as the phantasms of hallucination. as a moment in dreamland may span a life of time, the dreamer altogether unconscious that it is a dream, so may life itself be a shadow, the vision of a distempered fancy, the illusion of a floating thought." "are pain, pleasure, and living, imaginary creations?" i asked facetiously. "is there a madman who does not imagine, as facts, what others agree upon as hallucinations peculiar to himself? is it not impossible to distinguish between different gradations of illusions, and is it not, therefore, possible that even self-existence is an illusion? what evidence can any man produce to prove that his idea of life is not a madman's dream?" "proceed," i said. "at another time, perhaps," he remarked; "we have reached the inner circle, the sphere of rest, the line of gravity, and now our bodies have no weight; at this point we begin to move with decreased speed, we will soon come to a quiescent condition, a state of rest, and then start back on our rebound." chapter xlvii. hearing without ears.--"what will be the end?" a flood of recollections came over me, a vivid remembrance of my earth-learned school philosophy. "i rebel again," i said, "i deny your statements. we can neither be moving, nor can we be out of the atmosphere. fool that i have been not to have sooner and better used my reasoning faculties, not to have at once rejected your statements concerning the disappearance of the atmosphere." "i await your argument." "am i not speaking? is other argument necessary? have i not heard your voice, and that, too, since you asserted that we had left the atmosphere?" "continue." "have not men demonstrated, and is it not accepted beyond the shadow of a doubt, that sound is produced by vibrations of the air?" "you speak truly; as men converse on surface earth." "this medium--the air--in wave vibrations, strikes upon the drum of the ear, and thus impresses the brain," i continued. "i agree that such is the teachings of your philosophy; go on." "it is unnecessary; you admit the facts, and the facts refute you; there must be an atmosphere to convey sound." "can not you understand that you are not now on the surface of the earth? will you never learn that the philosophy of your former life is not philosophy here? that earth-bound science is science only with surface-earth men? here science is a fallacy. all that you have said is true of surface earth, but your argument is invalid where every condition is different from the conditions that prevail thereon. you use the organs of speech in addressing me as you once learned to use them, but such physical efforts are unnecessary to convey sense-impressions in this condition of rest and complacency, and you waste energy in employing them. you assert and believe that the air conveys sound; you have been taught such theories in support of a restricted philosophy; but may i ask you if a bar of iron, a stick of wood, a stream of water, indeed any substance known to you placed against the ear will not do the same, and many substances even better than the atmosphere?" "this i admit." "will you tell me how the vibration of any of these bodies impresses the seat of hearing?" "it moves the atmosphere which strikes upon the tympanum of the ear." "you have not explained the phenomenon; how does that tympanic membrane communicate with the brain?" "by vibrations, i understand," i answered, and then i began to feel that this assertion was a simple statement, and not sufficient to explain how matter acts upon mind, whatever mind may be, and i hesitated. "pray do not stop," he said; "how is it that a delicate vibrating film of animal membrane can receive and convey sound to a pulpy organic mass that is destitute of elasticity, and which consists mostly of water, for the brain is such in structure, and vibrations like those you mention, can not, by your own theory, pass through it as vibrations through a sonorous material, or even reach from the tympanum of the ear to the nearest convolution of the brain." "i can not explain this, i admit," was my reply. "pass that feature, then, and concede that this tympanic membrane is capable of materially affecting brain tissue by its tiny vibrations, how can that slimy, pulpy formation mostly made up of water, communicate with the soul of man, for you do not claim, i hope, that brain material is either mind, conscience, or soul?" i confessed my inability to answer or even to theorize on the subject, and recognizing my humiliation, i begged him to open the door to such knowledge. "the vibration of the atmosphere is necessary to man, as earthy man is situated," he said. "the coarser attributes known as matter formations are the crudities of nature, dust swept from space. man's organism is made up of the roughest and lowest kind of space materials; he is surrounded by a turbulent medium, the air, and these various conditions obscure or destroy the finer attributes of his ethereal nature, and prevent a higher spiritual evolution. his spiritual self is enveloped in earth, and everywhere thwarted by earthy materials. he is insensible to the finer influences of surrounding media by reason of the overwhelming necessity of a war for existence with the grossly antagonistic materialistic confusion that everywhere confronts, surrounds, and pervades him. such a conflict with extraneous matter is necessary in order that he may retain his earthy being, for, to remain a mortal, he must work to keep body and soul together. his organs of communication and perception are of 'earth, earthy'; his nature is cast in a mold of clay, and the blood within him gurgles and struggles in his brain, a whirlpool of madly rushing liquid substances, creating disorder in the primal realms of consciousness. he is ignorant of this inward turmoil because he has never been without it, as ignorant as he is of the rank odors of the gases of the atmosphere that he has always breathed, and can not perceive because of the benumbed olfactory nerves. thus it is that all his subtler senses are inevitably blunted and perverted, and his vulgar nature preponderates. the rich essential part of his own self is unknown, even to himself. the possibility of delight and pleasure in an acquaintance with the finer attributes of his own soul is clouded by this shrouding materialistic presence that has, through countless generations, become a part of man, and he even derives most of his mental pleasures from such acts as tend to encourage the animal passions. thus it follows that the sensitive, highly developed, extremely attenuated part of his inner being has become subservient to the grosser elements. the baser part of his nature has become dominant. he remains insensible to impressions from the highly developed surrounding media which, being incapable of reaching his inner organism other than through mechanical agencies, are powerless to impress. alas, only the coarser conditions of celestial phenomena can affect him, and the finer expressions of the universe of life and force are lost to his spiritual apprehension." "would you have me view the soul of man as i would a material being?" "surely," he answered; "it exists practically as does the more gross forms of matter, and in exact accord with natural laws. associated with lower forms of matter, the soul of man is a temporary slave to the enveloping substance. the ear of man as now constituted can hear only by means of vibrations of such media as conduct vibrations in matter--for example, the air; but were man to be deprived of the organs of hearing, and then exist for generations subject to evolutions from within, whereby the acuteness of the spirit would become intensified, or permitted to perform its true function, he would learn to communicate soul to soul, not only with mankind, but with beings celestial that surround, and are now unknown to him. this he would accomplish through a medium of communication that requires neither ear nor tongue. to an extent your present condition is what men call supernatural, although in reality you have been divested of only a part of your former material grossness, which object has been accomplished under perfectly natural conditions; your mind no longer requires the material medium by which to converse with the spiritual. we are conversing now by thought contact, there is no atmosphere here, your tongue moves merely from habit, and not from necessity. i am reading your mind as you in turn are mine, neither of us is speaking as you were accustomed to speak." "i can not accept that assertion," i said; "it is to me impossible to realize the existence of such conditions." "as it is for any man to explain any phenomenon in life," he said. "do you not remember that you ceased to respire, and were not conscious of the fact?" "yes." "that your heart had stopped beating, your blood no longer circulated, while you were in ignorance of the change?" "that is also true." "now i will prove my last assertion. close your mouth, and think of a question you wish to propound." i did so, and to my perfect understanding and comprehension he answered me with closed mouth. "what will be the end?" i exclaimed, or thought aloud. "i am possessed of nearly all the attributes that i once supposed inherent only in a corpse, yet i live, i see clearly, i hear plainly, i have a quickened being, and a mental perception intensified and exquisite. why and how has this been accomplished? what will be the result of this eventful journey?" "restful, you should say," he remarked; "the present is restful, the end will be peace. now i will give you a lesson concerning the words why and how that you have just used." chapter xlviii. why and how.--"the struggling ray of light from those farthermost outreaches." "confronting mankind there stands a sphinx--the vast unknown. however well a man may be informed concerning a special subject, his farthermost outlook concerning that subject is bounded by an impenetrable infinity." "granted," i interrupted, "that mankind has not by any means attained a condition of perfection, yet you must admit that questions once regarded as inscrutable problems are now illuminated by the discoveries of science." "and the 'discovered,' as i will show, has only transferred ignorance to other places," he replied. "science has confined its labors to superficial descriptions, not the elucidation of the fundamental causes of phenomena." "i can not believe you, and question if you can prove what you say." "it needs no argument to illustrate the fact. science boldly heralds her descriptive discoveries, and as carefully ignores her explanatory failures. she dare not attempt to explain the why even of the simplest things. why does the robin hop, and the snipe walk? do not tell me this is beneath the notice of men of science, for science claims that no subject is outside her realm. search your works on natural history and see if your man of science, who describes the habits of these birds, explains the reason for this evident fact. how does the tree-frog change its color? do not answer me in the usual superficial manner concerning the reflection of light, but tell me why the skin of that creature is enabled to perform this function? how does the maple-tree secrete a sweet, wholesome sap, and deadly nightshade, growing in the same soil and living on the same elements, a poison? what is it that your scientific men find in the cells of root, or rootlet, to indicate that one may produce a food, and the other a noxious secretion that can destroy life? your microscopist will discuss cell tissues learnedly, will speak fluently of physiological structure, will describe organic intercellular appearances, but ignore all that lies beyond. why does the nerve in the tongue respond to a sensation, and produce on the mind the sense of taste? what is it that enables the nerve in the nose to perform its discriminative function? you do not answer. silver is sonorous, lead is not; why these intrinsic differences? aluminum is a light metal, gold a heavy one; what reason can you offer to explain the facts other than the inadequate term density? mercury at ordinary temperature is a liquid; can your scientist tell why it is not a solid? of course anyone can say because its molecules move freely on each other. such an answer evades the issue; why do they so readily exert this action? copper produces green or blue salts; nickel produces green salts; have you ever been told why they observe these rules? water solidifies at about thirty-two degrees above your so-called zero; have you ever asked an explanation of your scientific authority why it selects that temperature? alcohol dissolves resins, water dissolves gums; have you any explanation to offer why either liquid should dissolve anything, much less exercise a preference? one species of turtle has a soft shell, another a hard shell; has your authority in natural history told you why this is so? the albumen of the egg of the hen hardens at one hundred and eighty degrees fahrenheit; the albumen of the eggs of some turtles can not be easily coagulated by boiling the egg in pure water; why these differences? iceland spar and dog-tooth spar are identical, both are crystallized carbonate of lime; has your mineralogist explained why this one substance selects these different forms of crystallization, or why any crystal of any substance is ever produced? why is common salt white and charcoal black? why does the dog lap and the calf drink? one child has black hair, another brown, a third red; why? search your physiology for the answer and see if your learned authority can tell you why the life-current makes these distinctions? why do the cells of the liver secrete bile, and those of the mouth saliva? why does any cell secrete anything? a parrot can speak; what has your anatomist found in the structure of the brain, tongue, or larynx of that bird to explain why this accomplishment is not as much the birthright of the turkey? the elements that form morphine and strychnine, also make bread, one a food, the other a poison; can your chemist offer any reason for the fact that morphine and bread possess such opposite characters? the earth has one satellite, saturn is encompassed by a ring; it is not sufficient to attempt to refer to these familiar facts; tell me, does your earth-bound astronomer explain why the ring of saturn was selected for that planet? why are the salts of aluminum astringent, the salts of magnesium cathartic, and the salts of arsenicum deadly poison? ask your toxicologist, and silence will be your answer. why will some substances absorb moisture from the air, and liquefy, while others become as dry as dust under like conditions? why does the vapor of sulphuric ether inflame, while the vapor of chloroform is not combustible, under ordinary conditions? oil of turpentine, oil of lemon, and oil of bergamot differ in odor, yet they are composed of the same elements, united in the same proportion; why should they possess such distinctive, individual characteristics? further search of the chemist will explain only to shove the word why into another space, as ripples play with and toss a cork about. why does the newly-born babe cry for food before its intellect has a chance for worldly education? why--" "stop," i interrupted; "these questions are absurd." "so some of your scientific experts would assert," he replied; "perhaps they would even become indignant at my presumption in asking them, and call them childish; nevertheless these men can not satisfy their own cravings in attempting to search the illimitable, and in humiliation, or irritation, they must ignore the word why. that word why to man dominates the universe. it covers all phenomena, and thrusts inquiry back from every depth. science may trace a line of thought into the infinitely little, down, down, beyond that which is tangible, and at last in that far distant inter-microscopical infinity, monstrous by reason of its very minuteness, must rest its labors against the word why. man may carry his superficial investigation into the immeasurably great, beyond our sun and his family of satellites, into the outer depths of the solar system, of which our sun is a part, past his sister stars, and out again into the depths of the cold space channels beyond; into other systems and out again, until at last the nebulæ shrink and disappear in the gloom of thought-conjecture, and as the straggling ray of light from those farthermost outreaches, too feeble to tell of its origin, or carry a story of nativity, enters his eye, he covers his face and rests his intellect against the word why. from the remote space caverns of the human intellect, beyond the field of perception, whether we appeal to conceptions of the unknowable in the infinitely little, or the immeasurably great, we meet a circle of adamant, as impenetrable as the frozen cliffs of the antarctic, that incomprehensible word--why! "why did the light wave spring into his field of perception by reflection from the microscopic speck in the depths of littleness, on the one hand; and how did this sliver of the sun's ray originate in the depths of inter-stellar space, on the other?" i bowed my head. [illustration: description of journey from k. [kentucky] to p.--"the end of earth."] chapter xlix. oscillating through space.--earth's shell above me.[ ] [ ] for detail illustration of the earth shell, as explained in this chapter, see the plate. continued my companion: "we have just now crossed the line of gravitation. we were drawn downward until at a certain point, to which i called your attention at the time, we recently crossed the curved plane of perfect rest, where gravity ceases, and by our momentum are now passing beyond that plane, and are now pressing against the bond of gravitation again. this shell in which gravity centers is concentric with that of the earth's exterior, and is about seven hundred miles below its surface. each moment of time will now behold us carried farther from this sphere of attraction, and thus the increasing distance increases the force of the restraining influence. our momentum is thus retarded, and consequently the rapidity of our motion is continually decreasing. at last when the forces of gravitation and mass motion neutralize each other, we will come to a state of rest again. when our motion in this direction ceases, however, gravitation, imperishable, continues to exert its equalizing influence, the result being a start in the opposite direction, and we will then reverse our course, and retrace our path, crossing again the central band of attraction, to retreat and fly to the opposite side of the power of greater attraction, into the expanse from which we came, and that is now above us." "can this oscillation ever end? are we to remain thus, as an unceasing pendulum, traversing space, to and fro across this invisible shell of attraction from now until the end of time?" "no; there are influences to prevent such an experience; one being the friction of the attenuated atmosphere into which we plunge each time that we cross the point of greater gravity, and approach the crust of the earth. thus each succeeding vibration is in shorter lines, and at last we will come to a state of perfect rest at the center of gravity." "i can only acquiesce in meek submission, powerless even to argue, for i perceive that the foundations for my arguments must be based on those observed conditions of natural laws formerly known to me, and that do not encompass us here; i accept, therefore, your statements as i have several times heretofore, because i can not refute them. i must close my eyes to the future, and accept it on faith; i cease to mourn the past, i can not presage the end." "well spoken," he replied; "and while we are undergoing this necessary delay, this oscillating motion, to which we must both submit before we can again continue our journey, i will describe some conditions inherent in the three spheres of which the rind of the earth is composed, for i believe that you are now ready to receive and profit by facts that heretofore you would have rejected in incredulity. "the outer circle, coat, or contour, of which you have heard others besides myself speak, is the surface crust of our globe, the great sphere of land and water on which man is at present an inhabitant. this is the exposed part of the earth, and is least desirable as a residence. it is affected by grievous atmospheric changes, and restless physical conditions, such as men, in order to exist in, must fortify against at the expense of much bodily and mental energy, which leads them, necessarily, to encourage the animal at the expense of the ethereal. the unmodified rays of the sun produce aerial convulsions that are marked by thermal contrasts, and other meteorological variations, during which the heat of summer and the cold of winter follow each other periodically and unceasingly. these successive solar pulsations generate winds, calms, and storms, and in order to protect himself against such exposures and changes in material surroundings, man toils, suffers, and comes to believe that the doom, if not the object, of life on earth is the preservation of the earthy body. all conditions and phases of nature on this outer crust are in an angry struggle, and this commotion envelops the wretched home, and governs the life of man. the surrounding cyclones of force and matter have distorted the peaceful side of what human nature might be until the shortened life of man has become a passionate, deplorable, sorrowful struggle for physical existence, from the cradle to the grave. of these facts man is practically ignorant, although each individual is aware he is not satisfied with his condition. if his afflictions were obvious to himself, his existence would be typical of a life of desolation and anguish. you know full well that the condition of the outer sphere is, as i have described it, a bleak, turbulent surface, the roof of the earth on which man exists, as a creeping parasite does on a rind of fruit, exposed to the fury of the ever-present earth storms. "the central circle, or medial sphere, the shell, or layer of gravitation, lies conformably to the outer configuration of the globe, about seven hundred miles towards its center. it stretches beneath the outer circle (sphere) as a transparent sheet, a shell of energy, the center of gravitation. the material crust of the earth rests on this placid sphere of vigor, excepting in a few places, where, as in the crevice we have entered, gaps, or crevices, in matter exist, beginning from near the outer surface and extending diagonally through the medial and inner spheres into the intra-earth space beyond. this medial sphere is a form of pure force, a disturbance of motion, and although without weight it induces, or conserves, gravity. it is invisible to mortal eyes, and is frictionless, but really is the bone of the earth. on it matter, the retarded energy of space, space dust, has arranged itself as dust collects on a bubble of water. this we call matter. the material portion of the earth is altogether a surface film, an insignificant skin over the sphere of purity, the center of gravitation. although men naturally imagine that the density and stability of the earth is dependent on the earthy particles, of which his own body is a part, such is not the case. earth, as man upon the outer surface, can now know it, is an aggregation of material particles, a shell resting on this globular sphere of medial force, which attracts solid matter from both the outer and inner surfaces of earth, forming thereby the middle of the three concentric spheres. this middle sphere is the reverse of the outer, or surface, layer in one respect, for, while it attracts solids, gases are repelled by it, and thus the atmosphere becomes less dense as we descend from the outer surfaces of the earth. the greater degree of attraction for gases belongs, therefore, to the earth's exterior surface." "exactly at the earth's exterior surface?" i asked. "practically so. the greatest density of the air is found a few miles below the surface of the ocean; the air becomes more attenuated as we proceed in either direction from that point. were this not the case, the atmosphere that surrounds the earth would be quickly absorbed into its substance, or expand into space and disappear." "scientific men claim that the atmosphere is forty-five geographical miles in depth over the earth's surface," i said. "if the earth is eight thousand miles in diameter, how long would such an atmosphere, a skin only, over a great ball, resist such attraction, and remain above the globe? were it really attracted towards its center it would disappear as a film of water sinks into a sponge." "do you know," i interrupted, "that if these statements were made to men they would not be credited? scientific men have calculated the weights of the planets, and have estimated therefrom the density of the earth, showing it to be solid, and knowing its density, they would, on this consideration alone, discredit your story concerning the earth shell." [illustration: the earth and its atmosphere. the space between the inner and the outer lines represents the atmosphere upon the earth. the depth to which man has penetrated the earth is less than the thickness of either line, as compared with the diameter of the inner circle.] "you mistake, as you will presently see. it is true that man's ingenuity has enabled him to ascertain the weights and densities of the planets, but do you mean to say that these scientific results preclude the possibility of a hollow interior of the heavenly bodies?" "i confess, i do." "you should know then, that what men define as density of the earth, is but an average value, which is much higher than that exhibited by materials in the surface layers of the earth crust, such as come within the scrutiny of man. this fact allows mortals of upper earth but a vague conjecture as to the nature of the seemingly much heavier substances that exist in the interior of the earth. have men any data on hand to show exactly how matter is distributed below the limited zone that is accessible to their investigations?" "i think not." "you may safely accept, then, that the earth shell i have described to you embraces in a compact form the total weight of the earth. even though men take for granted that matter fills out the whole interior of our planet, such material would not, if distributed as on earth's surface, give the earth the density he has determined for it." "i must acquiesce in your explanations." "let us now go a step further in this argument. what do you imagine is the nature of those heavier substances whose existence deep within the earth is suggested by the exceedingly high total density observed by man on upper earth?" "i am unable to explain, especially as the materials surrounding us here, seemingly, do not differ much from those with which my former life experience has made me acquainted." "your observation is correct, there is no essential difference in this regard. but as we are descending into the interior of this globe, and are approaching the central seat of the shell of energy, the opposing force into which we plunge becomes correspondingly stronger, and as a consequence, matter pressed within it becomes really lighter. your own experience about your weight gradually disappearing during this journey should convince you of the correctness of this fact." "indeed, it does," i admitted. "you will then readily understand, that the heavy material to which surface-bred mortals allude as probably constituting the interior of the earth, is, in fact, nothing but the manifestation of a matter-supporting force, as exemplified in the sphere of attractive energy, the seat of which we are soon to encounter on our journey. likewise the mutual attraction of the heavenly bodies is not a property solely of their material part, but an expression in which both the force-spheres and the matter collected thereon take part. "tell me more of the sphere in which gravitation is intensest." "of that you are yet to judge," he replied. "when we come to a state of rest in the stratum of greater gravity, we will then traverse this crevice in the sheet of energy until we reach the edge of the earth crust, after which we will ascend towards the interior of the earth, until we reach the inner crust, which is, as before explained, a surface of matter that lies conformably with the external crust of the earth, and which is the interior surface of the solid part of the earth. there is a concave world beneath the outer convex world." "i can not comprehend you. you speak of continuing our journey towards the center of the earth, and at the same time you say that after leaving the median circle, we will then ascend, which seems contradictory." "i have endeavored to show you that matter is resting in or on a central sphere of energy, which attracts solid bodies towards its central plane. from this fundamental and permanent seat of gravity we may regard our progress as up-hill, whether we proceed towards the hollow center or towards the outer surface of the globe. if a stick weighted on one end is floated upright in water, an insect on the top of the stick above the water will fall to the surface of the liquid, and yet the same insect will rise to the surface of the water if liberated beneath the water at the bottom of the stick. this comparison is not precisely applicable to our present position, for there is no change in medium here, but it may serve as an aid to thought and may indicate to you that which i wish to convey when i say 'we ascend' in both directions as we pull against gravity. the terms up and down are not absolute, but relative." thus we continued an undefined period in mind conversation; and of the information gained in my experience of that delightful condition, i have the privilege now to record but a small portion, and even this statement of facts appears, as i glance backward into my human existence, as if it may seem to others to border on the incredible. during all that time--i know not how long the period may have been--we were alternately passing and repassing through the partition of division (the sphere of gravity) that separated the inner from the outer substantial crust of earth. with each vibration our line of travel became shorter and shorter, like the decreasing oscillations of a pendulum, and at last i could no longer perceive the rushing motion of a medium like the air. finally my guide said that we were at perfect rest at a point in that mysterious medial sphere which, at a distance of about seven hundred miles below the level of the sea, concentrates in its encompassing curvature, the mighty power of gravitation. we were fixed seven hundred miles from the outer surface of the globe, but more than three thousand from the center. chapter l. my weight annihilated.--"tell me," i cried in alarm, "is this to be a living tomb?" "if you will reflect upon the condition we are now in, you will perceive that it must be one of unusual scientific interest. if you imagine a body at rest, in an intangible medium, and not in contact with a gas or any substance capable of creating friction, that body by the prevailing theory of matter and motion, unless disturbed by an impulse from without, would remain forever at absolute rest. we now occupy such a position. in whatever direction we may now be situated, it seems to us that we are upright. we are absolutely without weight, and in a perfectly frictionless medium. should an inanimate body begin to revolve here, it would continue that motion forever. if our equilibrium should now be disturbed, and we should begin to move in a direction coinciding with the plane in which we are at rest, we would continue moving with the same rapidity in that direction until our course was arrested by some opposing object. we are not subject to attraction of matter, for at this place gravitation robs matter of its gravity, and has no influence on extraneous substances. we are now in the center of gravitation, the 'sphere of rest.'" "let me think it out," i replied, and reasoning from his remarks, i mentally followed the chain to its sequence, and was startled as suddenly it dawned upon me that if his argument was true we must remain motionless in this spot until death (could beings in conditions like ourselves die beyond the death we had already achieved) or the end of time. we were at perfect rest, in absolute vacancy, there being, as i now accepted without reserve, neither gas, liquid, nor solid, that we could employ as a lever to start us into motion. "tell me," i cried in alarm, "is this to be a living tomb? are we to remain suspended here forever, and if not, by what method can we hope to extricate ourselves from this state of perfect quiescence?" he again took the bar of iron from my hand, and cautiously gave it a whirling motion, releasing it as he did so. it revolved silently and rapidly in space without support or pivot. "so it would continue," he remarked, "until the end of time, were it not for the fact that i could not possibly release it in a condition of absolute horizontal rest. there is a slight, slow, lateral motion that will carry the object parallel with this sheet of energy to the material side of this crevice, when its motion will 'be arrested by the earth it strikes.'" "that i can understand," i replied, and then a ray of light broke upon me. "had not cavendish demonstrated that, when a small ball of lead is suspended on a film of silk, near a mass of iron or lead, it is drawn towards the greater body? we will be drawn by gravity to the nearest cliff," i cried. "you mistake," he answered; "cavendish performed his experiments on the surface of the earth, and there gravity is always ready to start an object into motion. here objects have no weight, and neither attract nor repel each other. the force of cohesion holds together substances that are in contact, but as gravitation can not now affect matter out of molecular contact with other forms of matter, because of the equilibrium of all objects, so it may be likewise said, that bodies out of contact have at this point no attraction for one another. if they possessed this attribute, long ago we would have been drawn towards the earth cliff with inconceivable velocity. however, if by any method our bodies should receive an impulse sufficient to start them into motion, ever so gently though it be, we in like manner would continue to move in this frictionless medium--until--" "we would strike the material boundary of this crevice," i interrupted. "yes; but can you conceive of any method by which such voluntary motion can now be acquired?" "no." "does it not seem to you," he continued, "that when skillful mechanics on the earth's surface are able to adjust balances so delicately that in the face of friction of metal, friction of air, inertia of mass, the thousandth part of a grain can produce motion of the great beams and pans of such balances, we, in this location where there is no friction and no opposing medium--none at all--should be able to induce mass motion?" "i can not imagine how it is possible, unless we shove each other apart. there is no other object to push against,--but why do you continue to hold me so tightly?" i interrupted myself to ask, for he was clasping me firmly again. "in order that you may not leave me," he replied. "come, you trifle," i said somewhat irritated; "you have just argued that we are immovably suspended in a frictionless medium, and fixed in our present position; you ask me to suggest some method by which we can create motion, and i fail to devise it, and almost in the same sentence you say that you fear that i will leave you. cease your incongruities, and advise with me rationally." "where is the bar of iron?" he asked. i turned towards its former location; it had disappeared. "have you not occasionally felt," he asked, "that in your former life your mind was a slave in an earthly prison? have you never, especially in your dreams, experienced a sensation of mental confinement?" "yes." "know then," he replied, "that there is a connection between the mind and the body of mortal beings, in which matter confines mind, and yet mind governs matter. how else could the will of men and animals impart voluntary motion to earthy bodies? with beings situated as are the animals on the surface of the earth, mind alone can not overcome the friction of matter. a person could suspend himself accurately on a string, or balance himself on a pivot, and wish with the entire force of his mind that his body would revolve, and still he would remain at perfect rest." "certainly. a man would be considered crazy who attempted it," i answered. "notwithstanding your opinion, in time to come, human beings on the surface of the earth will investigate in this very direction," he replied, "and in the proper time mental evolution will, by experimentation, prove the fact of this mind and matter connection, and demonstrate that even extraneous matter may be made subservient to mind influences. on earth, mind acts on the matter of one's body to produce motion of matter, and the spirit within, which is a slave to matter, moves with it. contraries rule here. mind force acts on pure space motion, moving itself and matter with it, and that, too, without any exertion of the material body which now is a nonentity, mind here being the master." "how can i believe you?" i replied. "know, then," he said, "that we are in motion now, propelled by my will power." "prove it." "you may prove it yourself," he said; "but be careful, or we will separate forever." releasing his grasp, he directed me to wish that i were moving directly to the right. i did so; the distance widened between us. "wish intensely that you would move in a circle about me." i acquiesced, and at once my body began to circle around him. "call for the bar of iron." i did as directed, and soon it came floating out of space into my very hand. "i am amazed," i ejaculated; "yes, more surprised at these phenomena than at anything that has preceded." "you need not be; you move now under the influences of natural laws that are no more obscure or wonderful than those under which you have always existed. instead of exercising its influence on a brain, and thence indirectly on a material body, your mind force is exerting its action through energy on matter itself. matter is here subservient. it is nearly the same as vacuity, mind being a comprehensive reality. the positions we have heretofore occupied have been reversed, and mind now dominates. know, that as your body is now absolutely without weight, and is suspended in a frictionless medium, the most delicate balance of a chemist can not approach in sensitiveness the adjustment herein exemplified. your body does not weigh the fraction of the millionth part of a grain, and where there is neither material weight nor possible friction, even the attrition that on surface earth results from a needle point that rests on an agate plate is immeasurably greater in comparison. pure mind energy is capable of disturbing the equilibrium of matter in our situation, as you have seen exemplified by our movements and extraneous materials, 'dead matter' obeys the spiritual. the bar of iron obeyed your call, the spiritless metal is subservient to the demands of intelligence. but, come, we must continue our journey." grasping me again, he exclaimed: "wish with all intensity that we may move forward, and i will do the same." i did so. "we are now uniting our energies in the creation of motion," he said; "we are moving rapidly, and with continually accelerated speed; before long we will perceive the earthy border of this chasm." and yet it seemed to me that we were at perfect rest. chapter li. is that a mortal?--"the end of earth." at length i perceived, in the distance, a crescent-shaped ring of silver luster. it grew broader, expanding beneath my gaze, and appeared to approach rapidly. "hold; cease your desire for onward motion," said the guide; "we approach too rapidly. quick, wish with all your mind that you were motionless." i did so, and we rested in front of a ridge of brilliant material, that in one direction, towards the earth's outer circle, broadened until it extended upward as far as the eye could reach in the form of a bold precipice, and in the other towards the inner world, shelved gradually away as an ocean beach might do. "tell me, what is this barrier?" i asked. "it is the bisected edge of the earth crevice," he said. "that overhanging upright bluff reaches towards the external surface of the earth, the land of your former home. that shelving approach beneath is the entrance to the 'inner circle,' the concavity of our world." again we approached the visible substance, moving gently under the will of my guide. the shore became more distinctly outlined as we advanced, inequalities that were before unnoticed became perceptible, and the silver-like material resolved itself into ordinary earth. then i observed, upright and motionless, on the edge of the shore that reached toward the inner shell of earth, towards that "unknown country" beyond, a figure in human form. "is that a mortal?" i asked. "are we nearing humanity again?" "it is a being of mortal build, a messenger who awaits our coming, and who is to take charge of your person and conduct you farther," he replied. "it has been my duty to crush, to overcome by successive lessons your obedience to your dogmatic, materialistic earth philosophy, and bring your mind to comprehend that life on earth's surface is only a step towards a brighter existence, which may, when selfishness is conquered, in a time to come, be gained by mortal man, and while he is in the flesh. the vicissitudes through which you have recently passed should be to you an impressive lesson, but the future holds for you a lesson far more important, the knowledge of spiritual, or mental evolution which men may yet approach; but that i would not presume to indicate now, even to you. your earthly body has become a useless shell, and when you lay it aside, as you soon can do, as i may say you are destined to do, you will feel a relief as if an abnormal excrescence had been removed; but you can not now comprehend such a condition. that change will not occur until you have been further educated in the purely occult secrets for which i have partly prepared you, and the material part of your organism will at any time thereafter come and go at command of your will. on that adjacent shore, the person you have observed, your next teacher, awaits you." "am i to leave you?" i cried in despair, for suddenly the remembrance of home came into my mind, and the thought, as by a flash, that this being alone could guide me back to earth. "recall your words, do not desert me now after leading me beyond even alchemistic imaginings into this subterranean existence, the result of what you call your natural, or pure, ethereal lessons." he shook his head. "i beg of you, i implore of you, not to abandon me now; have you no compassion, no feeling? you are the one tie that binds me to earth proper, the only intelligence that i know to be related to a human in all this great, bright blank." again he shook his head. [illustration: "suspended in vacancy, he seemed to float."] "hearken to my pleadings. listen to my allegation. you stood on the edge of the brook spring in kentucky, your back to the darkness of that gloomy cavern, and i voluntarily gave you my hand as to a guide; i turned from the verdure of the earth, the sunshine of the past, and accompanied you into as dismal a cavern as man ever entered. i have since alternately rebelled at your methods, and again have trusted you implicitly as we passed through scenes that rational imagination scarce could conjure. i have successively lost my voice, my weight, my breath, my heart throb, and my soul for aught i know. now an unknown future awaits me on the one hand, in which you say my body is to disappear, and on the other you are standing, the only link between earth and my self-existence, a semi-mortal it may be, to speak mildly, for god only knows your true rank in life's scale. be you man or not, you brought me here, and are responsible for my future safety. i plead and beg of you either to go on with me into the forthcoming uncertainty 'within the unknown country' to which you allude, or carry me back to upper earth." he shook his head again, and motioned me onward, and his powerful will overcoming my feeble resistance, impelled me towards that mysterious shore. i floated helpless, as a fragment of camphor whirls and spins on a surface of clear, warm water, spinning and whirling aimlessly about, but moving onward. my feet rested on solid earth, and i awkwardly struggled a short distance onward and upward, and then stepped upon the slope that reached, as he had said, inward and upward towards the unrevealed "inner circle." i had entered now that mysterious third circle or sphere, and i stood on the very edge of the wonderful land i was destined to explore, "the unknown country." the strange, peaceful being whom i had observed on the shore, stepped to my side, and clasped both my hands, and the guide of former days waved me an adieu. i sank upon my knees and imploringly raised my arms in supplication, but the comrade of my journey turned about, and began to retrace his course. suspended in vacancy, he seemed to float as a spirit would if it were wafted diagonally into the heavens, and acquiring momentum rapidly, became quickly a bright speck, seemingly a silver mote in the occult earth shine of that central sphere, and soon vanished from view. in all my past eventful history there was nothing similar to or approaching in keenness the agony that i suffered at this moment, and i question if shipwrecked sailor or entombed miner ever experienced the sense of utter desolation that now possessed and overcame me. light everywhere about me, ever-present light, but darkness within, darkness indescribable, and mental distress unutterable. i fell upon my face in agony, and thought of other times, and those remembrances of my once happy upper earth life became excruciatingly painful, for when a person is in misery, pleasant recollections, by contrast, increase the pain. "let my soul die now as my body has done," i moaned; "for even mental life, all i now possess, is a burden. the past to me is a painful, melancholy recollection; the future is--" i shuddered, for who could foretell my future? i glanced at the immovable being with the sweet, mild countenance, who stood silent on the strand beside me, and whom i shall not now attempt to describe. he replied: "the future is operative and speculative. it leads the contemplative to view with reverence and admiration the glorious works of the creator, and inspires him with the most exalted ideas of the perfections of his divine creator." then he added: "have you accepted that whatever seems to be is not, and that that which seems not to be, is? have you learned that facts are fallacies, and physical existence a delusion? do you accept that material bliss is impossible, and that while humanity is working towards the undiscovered land, man is not, can not be satisfied?" "yes," i said; "i admit anything, everything. i do not know that i am here or that you are there. i do not know that i have ever been, or that any form of matter has ever had an existence. perhaps material things are not, perhaps vacuity only is tangible." "are you willing to relinquish your former associations, to cease to concern yourself in the affairs of men? do you--" he hesitated, seemed to consider a point that i could not grasp; then, without completing his sentence, or waiting for me to answer, added: "come, my friend, let us enter the expanses of the unknown country. you will soon behold the original of your vision, the hope of humanity, and will rest in the land of etidorhpa. come, my friend, let us hasten." arm in arm we passed into that domain of peace and tranquillity, and as i stepped onward and upward perfect rest came over my troubled spirit. all thoughts of former times vanished. the cares of life faded; misery, distress, hatred, envy, jealousy, and unholy passions, were blotted from existence. excepting my love for dear ones still earth-enthralled, and the strand of sorrow that, stretching from soul to soul, linked us together, the past became a blank. i had reached the land of etidorhpa-- the end of earth. interlude. chapter lii. the last farewell. my mysterious guest, he of the silver, flowing beard, read the last word of the foregoing manuscript, and then laid the sheet of paper on the table, and rested his head upon his hand, gazing thoughtfully at the open fire. thus he sat for a considerable period in silence. then he said: "you have heard part of my story, that portion which i am commanded to make known now, and you have learned how, by natural methods, i passed by successive steps while in the body, to the door that death only, as yet, opens to humanity. you understand also that, although of human form, i am not as other men (for with me matter is subservient to mind), and as you have promised, so you must act, and do my bidding concerning the manuscript." "but there is surely more to follow. you will tell me of what you saw and experienced beyond the end of earth, within the possessions of etidorhpa. tell me of that unknown country." "no," he answered; "this is the end, at least so far as my connection with you is concerned. you still question certain portions of my narrative, i perceive, notwithstanding the provings i have given you, and yet as time passes investigation will show that every word i have read or uttered is true, historically, philosophically, and spiritually (which you now doubt), and men will yet readily understand how the seemingly profound, unfathomable phenomena i have encountered may be verified. i have studied and learned by bitter experience in a school that teaches from the outgoings of a deeper philosophy than human science has reached, especially modern materialistic science which, however, step by step it is destined to reach. and yet i have recorded but a small part of the experiences that i have undergone. what i have related is only a foretaste of the inexhaustible feast which, in the wisdom expanse of the future, will yet be spread before man, and which tempts him onward and upward. this narrative, which rests against the beginning of my real story, the unknown country and its possibilities should therefore incite to renewed exertions, both mental and experimental, those permitted to review it. i have carried my history to the point at which i can say to you, very soon afterward i gave up my body temporarily, by a perfectly natural process, a method that man can yet employ, and passed as a spiritual being into the ethereal spaces, through those many mansions which i am not permitted to describe at this time, and from which i have been forced unwillingly to return and take up the semblance of my body, in order to meet you and record these events. i must await the development and expansion of mind that will permit men to accept this faithful record of my history before completing the narrative, for men are yet unprepared. men must seriously consider those truths which, under inflexible natural laws, govern the destiny of man, but which, if mentioned at this day can only be viewed as the hallucinations of a disordered mind. to many this manuscript will prove a passing romance, to others an enigma, to others still it will be a pleasing study. men are not now in a condition to receive even this paper. that fact i know full well, and i have accordingly arranged that thirty years shall pass before it is made public. then they will have begun to study more deeply into force disturbances, exhibitions of energy that are now known and called imponderable bodies (perhaps some of my statements will then even be verified), and to reflect over the connection of matter therewith. a few minds will then be capable of vaguely conceiving possibilities, which this paper will serve to foretell, for a true solution of the great problems of the ethereal unknown is herein suggested, the study of which will lead to a final elevation of humanity, such as i dare not prophesy." "much of the paper is obscure to me," i said; "and there are occasional phrases and repetitions that appear to be interjected, possibly, with an object, and which are yet disconnected from the narrative proper." "that is true; the paper often contains statements that are emblematical, and which you can not understand, but yet such portions carry to others a hidden meaning. i am directed to speak to many persons besides yourself, and i can not meet those whom i address more directly than i do through this communication. these pages will serve to instruct many people--people whom you will never know, to whom i have brought messages that will in secret be read between the lines." "why not give it to such persons?" "because i am directed to bring it to you," he replied, "and you are required: "first, to seal the manuscript, and place it in the inner vault of your safe. "second, to draw up a will, and provide in case of your death, that after the expiration of thirty years from this date, the seals are to be broken, and a limited edition published in book form, by one you select. "third, an artist capable of grasping the conceptions will at the proper time be found, to whom the responsibility of illustrating the volume is to be entrusted, he receiving credit therefor. only himself and yourself (or your selected agent) are to presume to select the subjects for illustration. "fourth, in case you are in this city, upon the expiration of thirty years, you are to open the package and follow the directions given in the envelope therein." and he then placed on the manuscript a sealed envelope addressed to myself. "this i have promised already," i said. "very well," he remarked, "i will bid you farewell." "wait a moment; it is unjust to leave the narrative thus uncompleted. you have been promised a future in comparison with which the experiences you have undergone, and have related to me, were tame; you had just met on the edge of the inner circle that mysterious being concerning whom i am deeply interested, as i am in the continuation of your personal narrative, and you have evidently more to relate, for you must have passed into that unknown country. you claim to have done so, but you break the thread in the most attractive part by leaving the future to conjecture." "it must be so. this is a history of man on earth, the continuation will be a history of man within the unknown country." "and i am not to receive the remainder of your story?" i reiterated, still loth to give it up. "no; i shall not appear directly to you again. your part in this work will have ended when, after thirty years, you carry out the directions given in the sealed letter which, with this manuscript, i entrust to your care. i must return now to the shore that separated me from my former guide, and having again laid down this semblance of a body, go once more into--" he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. yes; this strange, cynical being whom i had at first considered an impertinent fanatic, and then, more than once afterward, had been induced to view as a cunning impostor, or to fear as a cold, semi-mortal, sobbed like a child. "it is too much," he said, seemingly speaking to himself; "too much to require of one not yet immortal, for the good of his race. i am again with men, nearly a human, and i long to go back once more to my old home, my wife, my children. why am i forbidden? the sweets of paradise can not comfort the mortal who must give up his home and family, and yet carry his earth-thought beyond. man can not possess unalloyed joys, and blessings spiritual, and retain one backward longing for mundane subjects, and i now yearn again for my earth love, my material family. having tasted of semi-celestial pleasures in one of the mansions of that complacent, pure, and restful sphere, i now exist in the border land, but my earth home is not relinquished, i cling as a mortal to former scenes, and crave to meet my lost loved ones. all of earth must be left behind if paradise is ever wholly gained, yet i have still my sublunary thoughts. "etidorhpa! etidorhpa!" he pleaded, turning his eyes as if towards one i could not see, "etidorhpa, my old home calls. thou knowest that the beginning of man on earth is a cry born of love, and the end of man on earth is a cry for love; love is a gift of etidorhpa, and thou, etidorhpa, the soul of love, should have compassion on a pleading mortal." he raised his hands in supplication. "have mercy on me, etidorhpa, as i would on you if you were i and i were etidorhpa." then with upturned face he stood long and silent, listening. "ah," he murmured at last, as if in reply to a voice i could not catch, a voice that carried to his ear an answer of deep disappointment; "thou spokest truly in the vision, etidorhpa: it is love that enslaves mankind; love that commands; love that ensnares and rules mankind, and thou, etidorhpa, art the soul of love. true it is that were there no etidorhpa, there would still be tears on earth, but the cold, meaningless tears of pain only. no mourning people, no sorrowful partings, no sobbing mothers kneeling with upturned faces, no planting of the myrtle and the rose on sacred graves. there would be no child-love, no home, no tomb, no sorrow, no beyond--" he hesitated, sank upon his knees, pleadingly raised his clasped hands and seemed to listen to that far-off voice, then bowed his head, and answered: "yes; thou art right, etidorhpa--although thou bringest sorrow to mortals, without thee and this sorrow-gift there could be no bright hereafter. thou art just, etidorhpa, and always wise. love is the seed, and sorrow is the harvest, but this harvest of sadness is to man the richest gift of love, the golden link that joins the spirit form that has fled to the spirit that is still enthralled on earth. were there no earth-love, there could be no heart-sorrow; were there no craving for loved ones gone, the soul of man would rest forever a brother of the clod. he who has sorrowed and not profited by his sorrow-lesson, is unfitted for life. he who heeds best his sorrow-teacher is in closest touch with humanity, and nearest to etidorhpa. she who has drank most deeply of sorrow's cup has best fitted herself for woman's sphere in life, and a final home of immortal bliss. i will return to thy realms, etidorhpa, and this silken strand of sorrow wrapped around my heart, reaching from earth to paradise and back to earth, will guide at last my loved ones to the realms beyond--the home of etidorhpa." rising, turning to me, and subduing his emotion, ignoring this outburst, he said: "if time should convince you that i have related a faithful history, if in after years you come to learn my name (i have been forbidden to speak it), and are convinced of my identity, promise me that you will do your unbidden guest a favor." [illustration: "i stood alone in my room holding the mysterious manuscript."] "this i will surely do; what shall it be?" "i left a wife, a little babe, and a two-year-old child when i was taken away, abducted in the manner that i have faithfully recorded. in my subsequent experience i have not been able to cast them from my memory. i know that through my error they have been lost to me, and will be until they change to the spirit, after which we will meet again in one of the waiting mansions of the great beyond. i beg you to ascertain, if possible, if either my children, or my children's children live, and should they be in want, present them with a substantial testimonial. now, farewell." he held out his hand, i grasped it, and as i did so, his form became indistinct, and gradually disappeared from my gaze, the fingers of my hand met the palm in vacancy, and with extended arms i stood alone in my room, holding the mysterious manuscript, on the back of which i find plainly engrossed: "there are more things in heaven and earth, horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." epilogue. letter accompanying the mysterious manuscript. the allotted thirty years have passed, and as directed, i, llewellyn drury, now break the seals, and open the envelope accompanying the mysterious package which was left in my hand, and read as follows: herein find the epilogue to your manuscript. also a picture of your unwelcome guest, i--am--the--man, which you are directed to have engraved, and to use as a frontispiece to the volume. there are men yet living to bear witness to my identity, who will need but this picture to convince them of the authenticity of the statements in the manuscript, as it is the face of one they knew when he was a young man, and will recognize now that he is in age. do not concern yourself about the reception of the work, for you are in no wise responsible for its statements. interested persons, if living, will not care to appear in public in connection therewith, and those who grasp and appreciate, who can see the pertinence of its truths, who can read between the lines and have the key to connected conditions, will assuredly keep their knowledge of these facts locked in their own bosoms, or insidiously oppose them, and by their silence or their attacks cover from men outside the fraternity, their connection with the unfortunate author. they dare not speak. revise the sentences; secure the services of an editor if you desire, and induce another to publish the book if you shrink from the responsibility, but in your revision do not in any way alter the meaning of the statements made in the manuscript; have it copied for the printer, and take no part in comments that may arise among men concerning its reception.[ ] those who are best informed regarding certain portions thereof, will seemingly be least interested in the book, and those who realize most fully these truths, will persistently evade the endorsement of them. the scientific enthusiast, like the fraternity to which i belong, if appealed to, will obstruct the mind of the student either by criticism or ridicule, for many of these revelations are not recorded in his books. [ ] from a review of the fac simile (see p. ), it will be seen that an exact print word for word could not be expected. in more than one instance subsequent study demonstrated that the first conception was erroneous, and in the interview with etidorhpa (see p. ), after the page had been plated, it was discovered that the conveyed meaning was exactly the reverse of the original. luckily the error was discovered in time to change the verse, and leave the spirit of this fair creature unblemished.--j. u. l. you are at liberty to give in your own language as a prologue the history of your connection with the author, reserving, however, if you desire to do so, your personality, adding an introduction to the manuscript, and, as interludes, every detail of our several conversations, and of your experience. introduce such illustrations as the selected artist and yourself think proper in order to illuminate the statements. do not question the advisability of stating all that you know to have occurred; write the whole truth, for although mankind will not now accept as fact all that you and i have experienced, strange phases of life phenomena are revealing themselves, and humanity will yet surely be led to a higher plane. as men investigate the points of historical interest, and the ultra-scientific phenomena broached in this narrative, the curtain of obscurity will be drawn aside, and evidence of the truths contained in these details will be disclosed. finally, you must mutilate a page of the manuscript that you may select, and preserve the fragment intact and in secret. do not print another edition unless you are presented with the words of the part that is missing.[ ] [ ] i have excised a portion (see p. ).--j. u. l. (signed.) i--am--the--man. note by mr. drury.--thus the letter ended. after mature consideration it has been decided to give verbatim most of the letter, and all of the manuscript, and to append, as a prologue, an introduction to the manuscript, detailing exactly the record of my connection therewith, including my arguments with professors chickering and vaughn, whom i consulted concerning the statements made to me directly by its author. i will admit that perhaps the opening chapter in my introduction may be such as to raise in the minds of some persons a question concerning my mental responsibility, for as the principal personage in this drama remarks: "mankind can not now accept as facts what i have seen." yet i walk the streets of my native city, a business man of recognized thoughtfulness and sobriety, and i only relate on my own responsibility what has to my knowledge occurred. it has never been intimated that i am mentally irresponsible, or speculative, and even were this the case, the material proof that i hold, and have not mentioned as yet, and may not, concerning my relations with this remarkable being, effectually disproves the idea of mental aberration, or spectral delusion. besides, many of the statements are of such a nature as to be verified easily, or disproved by any person who may be inclined to repeat the experiments suggested, or visit the localities mentioned. the part of the whole production that will seem the most improbable to the majority of persons, is that to which i can testify from my own knowledge, as related in the first portion and the closing chapter. this approaches necromancy, seemingly, and yet in my opinion, as i now see the matter, such unexplained and recondite occurrences appear unscientific, because of the shortcomings of students of science. occult phenomena, at some future day, will be proved to be based on ordinary physical conditions to be disclosed by scientific investigations [for "all that is is natural, and science embraces all things"], but at present they are beyond our perception; yes, beyond our conception. whether i have been mesmerized, or have written in a trance, whether i have been the subject of mental aberration, or have faithfully given a life history to the world, whether this book is altogether romance, or carries a vein of prophecy, whether it sets in motion a train of wild speculations, or combines playful arguments, science problems, and metaphysical reasonings, useful as well as entertaining, remains for the reader to determine. so far as i, llewellyn drury, am concerned, this is-- the end. [illustration: handwritten script] had the above communication and the missing fragment of manuscript been withheld (see page ), it is needless to say that this second edition of etidorhpa would not have appeared. on behalf of the undersigned, who is being most liberally scolded by friends and acquaintances who can not get a copy of the first edition, and on behalf of these same scolding mortals, the undersigned extends to i-am-the-man the collective thanks of those who scold and the scolded.--j. u. l. [illustration: handwritten script] this introduction, which in the author's edition was signed by the writer, is here reprinted in order that my views of the book be not misconstrued.--j. u. l. the life of prof. daniel vaughn by prof. richard nelson to which is added an account of his death by father eugene brady, s.j. [illustration: prof. daniel vaughn.] story of the life of prof. daniel vaughn.[ ] [ ] reprinted from the cincinnati tribune. by prof. richard nelson. his valuable library showing marks of much study. twelve years' record in the chair of chemistry at the cincinnati college of medicine. [a paper read before the literary club by prof. richard nelson.] few men, if any, so eminent in science and philosophy have been known to live and die in such obscurity as the subject of this paper. a mathematician whose knowledge has never been fathomed, an original investigator in terrestrial and celestial chemistry, most of whose speculations are now accepted as law; a contributor to the philosophical journals of europe, whose papers were received with distinguished favor; an astronomer, who, in those papers, ventured to differ with laplace, and, too, as will be shown, a man skilled in classical scholarship, yet unknown to his nearest neighbors and recognized by only a few in his own city. he lived and died in obscurity and poverty in a city distinguished for its schools of science and art, and the liberality and public spirit of its men of wealth; who, if any, were to blame? one object of this paper is to unravel the mystery. his birthplace and parentage. daniel vaughn was born in the year at glenomara, four miles from killaloe, county clare, ireland. his father's name was john, who had two brothers, daniel and patrick. john, like daniel, was educated for the church, but, being the eldest son, remained on the farm. daniel became, subsequently, the parish priest of killaloe, and in was ordained bishop. john vaughn had three children, daniel (the subject of this paper), owen and margaret, afterward mrs. kent. the distance to the nearest school being four irish miles, john had his sons educated by a tutor till they were prepared to enter a classical academy. at the age of about sixteen dan, as he was familiarly called, was placed under the care of his uncle and namesake at killaloe, where he entered the academy. there the young student pursued the study of greek, latin and mathematics, giving some attention to certain branches of physics, for which he evinced peculiar aptitude. he emigrates and finds a home. about the year his uncle, desirous of having the young man enter the church, advanced him a sum of money to defray his expenses at a theological school in cork, but on seeing the american liners when he reached queenstown, the temptation to take the voyage to the land of promise was too great for the young adventurer to resist, so he secured a passage to new york. when at school he made wonderful advancement in study, especially in higher mathematics, and felt he ought to go to a country where he could be free to pursue his favorite line of thought and where attainments in science would not be circumscribed, as in the church. of his voyage and subsequent wanderings little is known until he reached kentucky. that he visited many schools and paid his way in part by teaching there is no question. the college of the late dr. campbell, in virginia, was one of the institutions visited, but he felt he must push on to kentucky. about he had reached the blue grass region, near the home of the late colonel stamps, in bourbon county. the colonel saw him engaged at work and was quick to observe that the stranger was no common man. taking him to his house and supplying his wants, the colonel soon installed him as his guest, and eventually made him instructor of his children. access to the colonel's library was a boon to the stranger, developing in him traits of genius of which his host was very proud. it was only a short time till the neighboring farmers heard of the distinguished young scholar, and desired to have the more mature members of their families under his care. a school was opened in the colonel's house for instruction in the higher mathematics, the classics, geology, physical geography and astronomy. the young people were pleased with their teacher and made commendable progress, but the curriculum was too varied and comprehensive for an instructor, who, though far advanced in scholarship, had not yet studied the art of teaching. accepts a professorship. in he accepted the chair of greek in a neighboring college, which afforded him leisure for his scientific pursuits. after an absence of seven years the professor returned to his old friend, colonel stamps and family, where he remained some two years, leaving them to settle in cincinnati. during his stay at the colonel's ( ) he became a member of the american association for the advancement of science, and in contributed to it his first article, entitled "on the motions of numerous small bodies and the phenomena resulting therefrom." having accumulated a valuable collection of books on science and philosophy and obtained access to several libraries, public and private, in the city, he was now in a condition to devote most of his time and energies to his favorite sciences. for subsistence he delivered lectures before teachers' institutes and colleges till , when an affection of the lungs compelled him to abandon the lecture field. in the meantime he had offered papers for publication to silliman's journal, the principal scientific magazine of america at that time, but, receiving no response to his communications and being denied publication, he took the advice of a friend and sent his subsequent articles to the british association for the advancement of science and to the philosophic magazine, where they were received with favor. he was much gratified to find his article on "meteoric astronomy" published in the report of the liverpool meeting of the association in . six papers, which he subsequently sent in , and , met with similar favor. for several years he visited schools, colleges and teachers' institutes in oxford, lebanon, cleveland and other cities, lecturing on his favorite branches of science. it had been his intention to popularize the science of physical astronomy by the publication of tracts or pamphlets. publishes pamphlets. in the year , at the request of teachers before whom he had lectured at the institutes, and with a view to popularize scientific knowledge, the professor commenced the publication of pamphlets. the first number treated of "the geological agency of water and subterranean forces." only two of these pamphlets came into the possession of the administrator. one of them was a good-sized volume, as may be inferred from the following articles it contained: "the influence of magnitude on stability." "the doctrine of gravitation." "theory of tides." "effects of tides." "cases of excessive tidal action and planetary instability." "the rings of saturn." "the supposed influence of satellites in preserving planetary rings." "movements of comets." "the tails of comets." "mass and density of comets." "cometary catastrophes." "phenomena attending the fall of meteors." "the origin of solar and meteoric light." "variable stars and the sun's spots." "temporary stars." "electrical light and the aurora borealis." "proof of the stability of the solar system," with an appendix. some of these subjects had been treated of at greater length and published by american and british associations for the advancement of science. he sent to the british association for the advancement of science: "cases of planetary instability indicated by the appearance of temporary stars." "appearance of temporary stars." other papers appeared: "note on the sunspots," philosophical magazine for december, . "on the solar spots and variable stars," idem, vol. , p. . "changes in the conditions of celestial bodies," an essay. "the origin of worlds," popular science monthly, may, . "planetary rings and new stars," popular science monthly, february, . "astronomical history of worlds," idem, september, . "on the stability of satellites in small orbits and the theory of saturn's rings," philosophical magazine, may, . "on the origin of the asteroids." contributed to the american association for the advancement of science. "static and dynamic stability in the secondary systems," philosophical magazine, december, . "on phenomena which may be traced to the presence of a medium pervading all space," idem, may , . the professor contributed to other publications on both sides of the atlantic, but as he failed to retain copies of the articles or of the magazines in which they were published, doubtless many papers of interest are among the number. the year found the professor possessed of a valuable collection of books, the accumulation of ten or fifteen years, all showing the marks of wear, some of them besmeared with the drippings from his candle. among them were works of some of the most prominent authors in branches of theoretical and practical science. those of laplace, kepler, tycho-brahe, leibnitz, herschel, newton and others, together with many pamphlets and periodicals, composed his library. he possessed a familiar knowledge of the german, french, italian and spanish languages, and of ancient greek and latin. many of his papers appeared in the continental languages. it may be here stated that for the eminent astronomer, laplace, as a scientist and writer, prof. vaughn entertained great respect, though he could not accept his nebular hypothesis, because important parts of it would not bear mathematical investigation. [the proof is in the papers in my possession.--n.] in an article of the professor to the popular science monthly (february, ) is a case of the kind, showing that the distinguished astronomer ignored his own famous theory. the article reads: "in endeavoring to account for the direct motion in secondary systems laplace contends that, in consequence of friction the supposed primitive solar rings would have a greater velocity in their outer than in their inner zones. now, if friction is to counteract to such an extent the normal effects of gravitation, it must be an eternal bar against the origin of worlds by nebulous dismemberment, and if the ring of attenuated matter were placed under the circumstances suggested by the eminent astronomer, it would be ultimately doomed, not to form a planet, but to coalesce with the immense spheroid of fiery vapor it was supposed to have environed." it is interesting to know that the theory of our professor was the correct one, as proved by a recent discovery of prof. james e. keeler, astronomer of the allegheny observatory. as announced in a daily paper: "prof. james e. keeler, of the allegheny observatory, has made a wonderful discovery. it is a scientific and positive demonstration of the fact that the rings of saturn are made up of many small bodies and that the satellites of the inner edge of the rings move faster than the outer." as to satellites, prof. vaughn, in the paper quoted, page , states: "the matter spread over the wide annular fields is ever urged by its own attraction to collect together and form satellites, which are ever destroyed by attractive disturbance of the primary, and have their parts scattered once more over a wide space." installed as professor of chemistry. the professor was elected to the chair of chemistry in the cincinnati college of medicine and surgery in , where he served with distinction for twelve years. his scholarly valedictory at that institution is one of the papers reserved for publication in his memoirs. while in the college he continued his investigations in science, applying his knowledge of terrestrial chemistry to the chemistry of the heavens, as shown in nearly all his writings. besides the position held in the college, he gave lessons in schools and seminaries in geology, astronomy, chemistry, latin and greek. in he visited lexington, where he met his old friend, dr. j. c. darby, and delivered lectures in public, at the sayre institute and the baptist school, returning to cincinnati the following spring. except from his writings, he seemed to have no source of revenue for several years. how he managed to exist his most intimate friends could only conjecture. true, he contributed papers to monthly publications, but they appeared at such long intervals they could not be relied on for support, so, in the autumn of his friends organized for him a course of lectures, which were well patronized by physicians and others versed in science. in the meantime, negotiations were opened with prominent citizens of suburban towns for other lectures, and efforts were made to retire the professor on an annuity. his end drawing near. enfeebled health, which confined him to his room for several weeks, prevented him from entering on the suburban course, so a second course was projected for the city and one of the lectures delivered. from what transpired after that lecture his friends were again anxious regarding his health, and, as the time approached for the delivery of the second, determined to see him. for reasons stated elsewhere it was with some difficulty he was found. prostrated on a couch, he was suffering from a hemorrhage of the lungs of a few days previous, with evidences all around of a state of extreme destitution. no time was lost in having him removed to comfortable quarters in the good samaritan hospital, where his friends arranged for his care as a private patient. next day, april , he expressed himself as greatly benefited by the change and talked cheerfully and hopefully of the future. next day, friday, he continued to improve, but on saturday proof of his forthcoming article in the popular science monthly reached him, and, feeling that he ought to return it promptly, he sat up to do the work. the effort was too great. overcome with exhaustion after its completion, he sank to sleep and a little after two o'clock next morning, april , his weary spirit peacefully took its flight. born in , the professor was then in the sixty-first year of his age. his obsequies. a committee of the more intimate friends of the deceased was formed, consisting of the late jacob traber, his nephew, j. c. sproull, drs. j. j. and william taft and the writer. funeral services were held in the chapel of the hospital, where, considering the suddenness of the professor's demise, many mourners were present. the interest evinced was profound, while the floral tributes that covered the casket were eloquent of affection and esteem. the remains were interred in a burial lot of jacob traber, who generously tendered its use until a separate place of interment and a monument could be procured. the remains of the two friends now lie side by side. his effects. after the funeral the committee referred to visited the room occupied by the professor prior to his decease, and had the writer, as his nearest friend, procure letters of administration, so that papers of value, if any, would be cared for. a few letters, some private relics, unsalable remnants of books and pamphlets and scraps of manuscript constituted the effects. the scarcity of manuscript was easily accounted, for, as it was the habit of the deceased for years to print articles designed for publication and have them mailed to magazines and to savants in different parts of europe and america. characteristics and habits of study. a prominent characteristic of prof. vaughn was shyness--a shrinking from familiarity or conspicuousness. he never was the first to salute a casual acquaintance on the street, and when introduced to a stranger would extend his hand with apparent diffidence or reserve--not with the warmth of a hearty shake, but rather with a cautious presentation of the finger tips. undemonstrative in manner, and inexperienced in the customs of social life, his diffidence was taken for coldness, yet he was kind and tender hearted almost to a fault, and a most grateful recipient of a favor. in his poverty he would part with money or personal property to people whom he considered more necessitous than himself. of the proceeds of his last course of lectures he gave to one such a sum so large as to almost discourage his friends from helping him. then, too, he was glad to render service to professional and public men. he made translations for writers and wrote lectures for others and made chemical analyses for the city when payment was not expected. as to his placing a commercial value upon his services he never learned to do it, though they often cost him both time and money that he could not well spare. his waking hours were always fully occupied in writing or study, either in his laboratory, the libraries or in open-air observations. he was thoroughly familiar with the geology of the neighborhood and the physical geography of the entire continent, as may be seen by his articles on "volcanoes," "the origin of lakes and mountains," "the absence of trees on prairies," "malaria," etc. his ingenuity in the construction of apparatus for his illustrations in chemistry was remarkable. given a few tubes of glass and rubber, a piece of tin, some acid and alkali, a blow-pipe, soldering iron and a pair of pinchers, he could construct at will enough apparatus for a lesson, a lecture or an analysis. considering his poverty, it may be questioned how he was able to maintain a laboratory. for twelve years he found a room at the medical college. at other times he extemporized quarters at his humble lodgings, where the same apartment was to him laboratory, study and living room. such a room he could not find in a private house, so he sought it elsewhere, as in the tenement in which he was found in his last illness. that life necessarily isolated him from society, its pleasures and advantages before he became familiar with the laws by which it was governed. having acquired a mastery of greek and latin in his youth, he had a good preparation for the acquisition of the modern languages; besides, to prosecute his studies and investigations, he found it necessary to understand most of the languages of europe. exception has been taken to the professor's manner as a lecturer. when we consider his natural diffidence in the presence of strangers we are surprised that he attempted to lecture at all. take his case when he last lectured,--his lecture hall, the operating room of the dental college, and his platform that of the operator with his audience around but elevated a few feet above him. the position was an exceedingly trying one, and some time elapsed before he was able to make a good start. while hesitating, on such occasions, his eyes would wander around the audience till they rested on those of a familiar friend. immediately he addressed himself to that person, and confidence was restored. like other public speakers we know of, he continued to address himself chiefly to the one selected, however embarrassing it might be to that individual. his religious life. the professor was a bible student, if we judge from fragments found among his effects and a well-worn bible, now a relic in possession of a former student. the book is a curiosity, worn as is the cover with marks of his fingers as he held it, often with a candle in his hand, as shown by occasional drippings on the page and cover. he was not a member of any church. at least, had not been up to a month before his decease, though he visited churches of all denominations and was familiar with their doctrines and polity. his religion consisted in his living up to his highest ideas of right and truth; hence he was charitable almost to a fault. when he had not money to give, he parted with his books. an eloquent public speaker, referring to his private life, has said: "he was social, kind and humane. he took pleasure in instructing the children and communing with friends--good men and women, who loved and admired him--and his humanity was gratified in bestowing what he valued most--knowledge. to him nothing seemed more precious than truth, and to shed the light of it abroad. his heart was in his work, and without a glance to the right or left, he pursued his arduous quest." of the works of creation which occupied so much of his thoughts, the professor's views may be had by reading the following concluding remarks found in his "physical astronomy:" "whatever doubts may hang over all speculations respecting distant events, either of past or future time, we have reason to believe that our universe will ever exhibit great and useful operations throughout its extensive domains. from the ruins of some celestial bodies others will rise to act a part in the drama of the physical creation in future ages. though nature's work may all decay, her laws remain the same, and numerous agencies, obedient to their control and aided by occasional interventions of creative power, must maintain the heavens forever in a harmonious condition and transform innumerable spheres into seats of light and intelligence. while the laws of nature have been thus widely ordained for such great ends, their simplicity renders them intelligible to the limited powers of the human mind, and the immense universe thus becomes a vast field of intellectual enjoyment for man." testimony of the late dr. john hancock. the late dr. hancock, in writing to mrs. j. w. mclaughlin, stated that he attended institute lectures of prof. vaughn, making his acquaintance at a meeting of the southwestern ohio normal institute. the professor was engaged to lecture on his favorite specialties, physical geography and astronomy. "it is my recollection," says the doctor, "that prof. vaughn was a graduate of trinity collage, dublin. however that may be, there can be no doubt as to his wide and profound scholarship. he was not only deeply versed in the physical sciences, but was equally proficient in the classics and mathematics. it is said by competent judges that he read greek and latin as he would english, as though he thought in those languages, and he was one of the few americans who read through laplace's 'mechanique celeste.' he had a prodigious memory. at the oxford institute, to which i have referred, some dozen of the leading members, prof. vaughn among them, got up some literary games requiring wide reading and retentive memories for successful rivalry. in these games the professor showed a wealth of reading and an ability to use it on the instant that i have never seen approached by any other scholar. it is needless to say that he was first in the game and the rest nowhere. "some ten years afterward, when connected with nelson's commercial college, i edited a little educational paper, the news and educator, of which mr. nelson was proprietor. in this relation i came much more frequently in contact with prof. vaughn than i ever did before. to this paper he contributed a number of articles on scientific subjects, but, being printed in an obscure local paper, they attracted little attention." reminiscences of mrs. stamps. mrs. eliza stamps, widow of the late colonel stamps, in giving her experience with the professor, said: "he was a very industrious student, in his profound researches pursuing them to the exclusion of every thing else. he would frequently forget the demands of hunger and disregard the summons to his meals. as to his engaging in innocent amusements, he considered it a sacrifice of valuable time; yet, lest he should be accused of selfishness or wanting in social etiquette, he sometimes left his books to unite with the children in their games, and, diffident though he was, would occasionally take part in the dance. "he enjoyed the colonel's library, but soon exhausted its resources and those of the neighbors; so, to obtain a supply, he would go on foot to cincinnati, one hundred miles distant, and return in the same manner, loaded with new books." throughout his after life he gave evidence of his great respect and affection for colonel stamps, his benefactor, and his family, and the young ladies and gentlemen who had been his pupils, who never ceased to venerate him for his learning, or to love and cherish his memory. some such were among the mourners at his funeral. reputation in england. the late jacob traber, one of the most intimate friends of the professor, has written: "in the year i was in the office of john sayre, bookseller, high holborn, where i made the purchase of books that were yet in the hands of the printer. i gave my address and directions for shipping. when in the act of leaving the office i was accosted by an elderly gentleman who, with the apology, 'beg pardon, i overheard you when you gave your address, cincinnati, and desire to make inquiry about one of your distinguished citizens, daniel vaughn. assuming that you know him, may i ask how long it is since you have seen him?' i replied that i had known the professor some four years, and had met him but a few months ago. at that time i regarded the professor as a mechanical genius of the speculative type, and so expressed myself. a quick rejoinder came in that broad and forcible accent of an englishman: 'if you cincinnati people vote vaughn as a speculative mechanic, the ripest and profoundest mathematical scholar in england may be marked as his apprentice. you have a treasure in that man. why, sir, we send him problems that fail to be mastered here, and speedily have them back not only with a solution, but with the demonstration.' the speaker proved to be one of the ablest scholars and scientists in europe." fixing the responsibility for his condition. the subject of this paper, it will be inferred, did not inherit a patrimony, yet he contributed his valuable services to many worthy objects without pecuniary compensation. as has been stated, his great pleasure, next to the investigation of truth, was to impart useful knowledge and help the needy. when in the medical college he was paid with shares of stock on which a dividend was never declared, and when engaged in lecturing and teaching his diffidence prevented him from placing a sufficient value on his services. living the life of a recluse, he concealed his poverty from his nearest friends, who were ignorant even of his address. then, he never sought a gratuity, and his friends could only learn by conjecture when he was in need. when asked if his privations did not cause him much anxiety, he said they gave him no concern. on more than one occasion the writer, at the request of men of wealth and influence, proposed to retire him on an annuity, but he modestly but firmly declined to accept, and it was not until after the announcement of his last course that he consented. then the proposition was to pay his expenses at a hotel of his choice and advance him money for his personal expenses, for which he was to lecture when and where he might choose. the gentlemen most active in this project were the following, now deceased: henry peachy, william f. corry, jacob traber, colonel geoffrey and others. favorably known to the public were drs. j. j. and william taft, dr. thad reamy, j. c. sproull, etc. the project had so far matured that the writer and another had arranged with mr. peachy to make the lafayette national bank the custodian of the funds. had the professor survived, he would have enjoyed a life of leisure and comfort, at one of the most prominent hotels in the city. the people of cincinnati were, therefore, not responsible for the poverty of our friend, nor for the state of destitution in which he was found prior to his removal to the hospital. account of the death of prof. vaughn, by rev. eugene brady, s.j. [concerning the last days of professor vaughn, the following from the pen of father brady, pastor of st. xavier's church, is of special interest. this is peculiarly appropriate by reason of the fact that father brady, while a boy, attended the college during the time professor vaughn taught in bardstown, kentucky, and finally comforted him in his last moments.--j. u. l.] "my dear mr. lloyd:-- "concerning the foot-note on page of etidorhpa. the description of daniel vaughn is correct. the story of his privations is quite true. he was so absorbed in science as to be self-neglectful. moreover, he was grossly neglected by those _who made use of his labors_. "a servant girl told the venerable sister anthony that a poor lodger was dying in destitution in the west end of the city. the lodger was professor vaughn. the sister had the good man conveyed to the good samaritan hospital on april , . she made him comfortable, as he repeatedly declared. he died on april , . _thoroughly conscious_ up to the last moment, _it was at his request_ that the undersigned had the melancholy pleasure of administering to him the last rites of the catholic church. it was neither delirium nor senility that revived his faith. he was but sixty-one years of age, and as rational as ever in life." --eugene brady, s.j. etidorhpa. to the recipients of the author's edition of etidorhpa: that so large an edition as , copies of an expensive book, previously unseen by any subscriber, should have been taken in advance by reason of a mere announcement, is complimentary to the undersigned; and yet this very confidence occasioned him not a little anxiety. under such circumstances to have failed to give, either in workmanship or subject-matter, more than was promised in the announcement of etidorhpa, would have been painfully embarrassing. not without deep concern, then, were the returns awaited; for, while neither pains nor expense were spared to make the book artistically a prize, still, beautiful workmanship and attractive illustrations may serve but to make more conspicuous other failings. humiliating indeed would it have been had the recipients, in a spirit of charity, spoken only of artistic merit and neat bookwork. when one not a bookman publishes a book, he treads the danger-line. when such a person, without a great publishing-house behind him, issues a book like etidorhpa--a book that, spanning space, seemingly embraces wild imaginings and speculation, and intrudes on science and religion--he invites personal disaster. that in the case of the author's edition of etidorhpa the reverse happily followed, is evidenced by hundreds of complimentary letters, written by men versed in this or that section wherein the book intrudes; and in a general way the undersigned herein gratefully extends his thanks to all correspondents--thanks for the cordial expressions of approval, and for the graceful oversights by critics and correspondents, that none better than he realizes have been extended towards blemishes that must, to others, be not less apparent than they are to himself. since general interest has been awakened in the strange book etidorhpa, and as many readers are soliciting information concerning its reception, it is not only as a duty, but as a pleasure, that the undersigned reproduces the following abstracts from public print concerning the author's edition, adding, that as in most cases the reviews were of great length and made by men specially selected for the purpose, the brief notes are but fragments and simply characteristic of their general tenor. the personal references indulged by the critics could not be excised without destroying the value of the criticisms, and the undersigned can offer no other apology for their introduction than to say that to have excluded them would have done an injustice to the writers. respectfully, john uri lloyd. etidorhpa as a work of art. professor s. w. williams, wyoming, ohio. if a fine statue or a stately cathedral is a poem in marble, a masterpiece of the printer's art may be called a poem in typography. such is etidorhpa. in its paper, composition, presswork, illustrations, and binding--it is the perfection of beauty. while there is nothing gaudy in its outward appearance, there is throughout a display of good taste. the simplicity of its neatness, like that of a handsome woman, is its great charm. elegance does not consist in show nor wealth in glitter; so the richest as well as the costliest garb may be rich in its very plainness. the illustrations were drawn and engraved expressly for this work, and consist of twenty-one full-page, half-tone cuts, and over thirty half-page and text cuts, besides two photogravures. the best artistic skill was employed to produce them, and the printing was carefully attended to, so as to secure the finest effect. only enameled book paper is used; and this, with the wide margins, gilt top, trimmed edges, and clear impressions of the type, makes the pages restful to the eyes in reading or looking at them. the jacket, or cover, which protects the binding, is of heavy paper, and bears the same imprint as the book itself. altogether, as an elegant specimen of the bookmakers' art it is a credit to the trade. all honor to the compositors who set the type, the artists who drew and engraved the illustrations, the electrotyper who put the forms into plate, the pressman who worked off the sheets, and the binder who gathered and bound them in this volume. reviews of etidorhpa. [sidenote: b. o. flower, editor of the arena, boston.] the present is an age of expectancy, of anticipation, and of prophecy; and the invention or discovery or production that occupies the attention of the busy world, as it rushes on its self-observed way, for more than the passing nine day's wonder, must needs be something great indeed. such a production has now appeared in the literary world in the form of the volume entitled "etidorhpa, or the end of earth;" the very title of which is so striking as to arrest the attention at once. a most remarkable book.... surpasses, in my judgment, any thing that has been written by the elder dumas or jules verne, while in moral purpose it is equal to hugo at his best.... it appeals to the thoughtful scientist no less than to the lover of fascinating romance. [sidenote: mr. herbert bates, in the commercial gazette, cincinnati.] in summing, i would say that i have found the book distinctly stimulating. it is odd, but with the oddity of force. it has passages of uncanny imagination, but they excellently evade the enormous and extravagant. it is a book that by its title and by such features as strike one at a hurried glance might easily repel. yet it is a book that, studied carefully, calls for re-reading and deep meditation. its theories are capable of scientific demonstration, its imaginings, while they may not be fact, are always consistent with it. the reader who lets the outside repel him errs sadly. let him read it, and he will be as changed in his position toward it, as ready to convert others, as is the reviewer, who picked it up with foreboding and laid it down with the sense of having read great thoughts. [sidenote: dr. w. h. venable.] "the end of earth" is not like any other book. the charm of adventure, the excitement of romance, the stimulating heat of controversy, the keen pursuit of scientific truth, the glow of moral enthusiasm, are all found in its pages. the book may be described as a sort of philosophical fiction, containing much exact scientific truth, many bold theories, and much ingenious speculation on the nature and destiny of man.... the occult and esoteric character of the discussions adds a strange fascination to them. we can hardly classify, by ordinary rules, a work so unusual in form and purpose, so discursive in subject-matter, so unconventional in its appeals to reason, religion and morality.... the direct teaching of the book, in so far as it aims to influence conduct, is always lofty and pure. [sidenote: letter from sir henry irving, to the author.] "_my dear sir:_ let me thank you most heartily for sending me the special copy of your wonderful book 'etidorhpa,' which i shall ever value. i may say that when by chance i found it in cincinnati i read it with the greatest interest and pleasure, and was so struck by it that i have sent copies to several friends of mine here and at home. i hope i may have the pleasure of meeting you some day either here or in london. i remain, sincerely yours, henry irving. " th march, ." [sidenote: etidorhpa as a work of art. prof. s. w. williams.] if a fine statute or a stately cathedral is a poem in marble, a masterpiece of the printer's art may be called a poem in typography. such is "etidorhpa." in its paper, composition, presswork, illustrations, and binding--it is the perfection of beauty. while there is nothing gaudy in its outward appearance, there is throughout a display of good taste. the illustrations were drawn and engraved expressly for this work, and consist of twenty-one full-page, half-tone cuts, and over thirty half-page and text cuts, besides two photogravures. the best artistic skill was employed to produce them, and the printing was carefully attended to, so as to secure the finest effect. [sidenote: eclectic medical journal, cincinnati.] no one could have written the chapter on the "food of man" but professor lloyd; no one else knows and thinks of these subjects in a similar way.... the "old man's" description of "the spirit of stone," "the spirit of plants," and finally, "the spirit of man," is very fine, but those who hear professor lloyd lecture catch lloyd's impulses throughout. the only regret one has in reading this entrancing work is, that it ends unexpectedly, for the end of earth comes without a catastrophe. it should have been a hundred pages longer; the reader yearns for more, and closes the book wistfully. [sidenote: new idea, detroit.] one of the great charms of the book is the space between the lines, which only the initiated can thoroughly comprehend. don't fail to read and re-read etidorhpa. be sure and read it in the light of contemporaneous literature, for without doing so, its true beauty will not appear. aside from its subject-matter, the excellency of the workmanship displayed by the printer, and artistic beauty of the illustrations, will make etidorhpa an ornament to any library. [sidenote: cincinnati student.] this book, to use the words of the editor of the chicago inter-ocean, is "the literary novelty of the year."... in a literary sense, according to all reviewers, it abounds with "word-paintings of the highest order"--in some chapters being "terrible" in its vividness, several critics asserting that dante's inferno has nothing more realistic.... [sidenote: the british and colonial druggist, london, england.] we have read it with absorbed interest, the vividly-depicted scenes of each stage in the miraculous journey forming a theme which enthralls the reader till the last page is turned. many new views of natural laws are given by the communicator, and argued between him and drury, into which, and into the ultimate intent of etidorhpa, we will not attempt to enter, but will leave it for each reader to peruse, and draw his own conclusions.... professor lloyd's style is quaint and polished, and perfectly clear. the printing and paper are all that can be desired, and an abundance of artistic and striking illustrations are admirably reproduced. [sidenote: new york world.] etidorhpa, the end of the earth, is in all respects the worthiest presentation of occult teachings under the attractive guise of fiction that has yet been written. its author, mr. john uri lloyd, of cincinnati, as a scientist and writer on pharmaceutical topics, has already a more than national reputation, but only his most intimate friends have been aware that he was an advanced student of occultism. his book is charmingly written, some of its passages being really eloquent; as, for instance, the apostrophe to aphrodite--whose name is reversed to make the title of the story. it has as thrilling situations and startling phenomena as imagination has ever conceived.... there is no confusion between experiences and illusions, such as are common in the works of less instructed and conscientious writers treating of such matters. he knows where to draw the line and how to impress perception of it, as in the four awful nightmare chapters illustrating the curse of drink. etidorhpa will be best appreciated by those who have "traveled east in search of light and knowledge."... [sidenote: john clark ridpath, ll.d.] we are disposed to think "etidorhpa" the most unique, original, and suggestive new book that we have seen in this the last decade of a not unfruitful century. [sidenote: times-star, cincinnati.] it is as fascinating as the richest romance by dumas, and mysterious and awe-inspiring as the wild flights of verne. hugo wrote nothing more impassioned than those terrible chapters where "the-man-who-did-it" drinks liquor from the mushroom cup. there never was a book like it. it falls partly in many classes, yet lies outside of all. it will interest all sorts and conditions of men and it has that in it which may make it popular as the most sensational novel of the day. intricate plotting, marvelous mysteries, clear-cut science without empiricism, speculative reasoning, sermonizing, historical facts, and bold theorizing make up the tissue of the story, while the spirit of etidorhpa, the spirit of love, pervades it all.... happy is the scientist who can present science in a form so inviting as to charm not only the scholars of his own profession, but the laymen besides. this, professor john uri lloyd has done in his etidorhpa. [sidenote: the inter-ocean, chicago.] for eighteen years the writer has been seated at his desk, and all kinds of books have been passed in review, but has never before met with such a stumper as etidorhpa. its name is a stunner, and its title-page, head-lines, and weird, artistic pictures send you such a ghastly welcome as to make goblins on the walls, and fill the close room with spooks and mystery. the writer has only known of professor lloyd as a scientist and an expert in the most occult art of the pharmacist, and can scarcely conceive him in the role of the mystic and romancer in the region heretofore sacred to the tread of the supernatural.... the book is the literary novelty of the year, but those interested in such lines of thought will forget its novelties in a profound interest in the themes discussed. [sidenote: the chicago medical times.] the work stands so entirely alone in literature, and possesses such a marvelous versatility of thought and idea, that, in describing it, we are at a loss for comparison. in its scope it comprises alchemy, chemistry, science in general, philosophy, metaphysics, morals, biology, sociology, theosophy, materialism, and theism--the natural and supernatural.... it is almost impossible to describe the character of the work. it is realistic in expression, and weird beyond hawthorne's utmost flights. it excels bulwer-lytton's coming race and jules verne's most extreme fancy. it equals dante in vividness and eccentricity of plot.... the entire tone of the work is elevating. it encourages thought of all that is ennobling and pure. it teaches a belief and a faith in god and holy things, and shows god's supervision over all his works. it is an allegory of the life of one who desires to separate himself from the debasing influences of earth, and aspires to a pure and noble existence, as beautiful and as true to the existing conditions of human life as bunyan's pilgrim's progress. the sorrow; the struggle with self; the physical burdens; the indescribable temptations with the presence and assistance of those who would assist in overcoming them; the dark hours, vanity fair, and the beulahland, are all there. [sidenote: indianapolis journal.] in every respect the volume bearing the title etidorhpa, or the end of the earth, is a most remarkable book. typographically, it is both unique and artistic--as near perfection in conception and execution as can be conceived.... the author is john uri lloyd, of cincinnati, a scientific writer whose pharmaceutical treatises are widely known and highly valued. that a man whose mind and time have been engrossed with the affairs of a specialist and man of affairs could have found time to enter the field of speculation, and there display not only the most extensive knowledge of the exact natural sciences, and refute what is held to be scientific truth with bold theories and ingenious speculations on the nature and destiny of man is marvelous.... the addenda is as original as the book itself, consisting, as it does, of a list of names, some of whom are not subscribers, but to whom the author is deeply obliged, or whom he regards as very dear friends, and those of a few whom he personally admires.... if each of them has a copy of etidorhpa, or the end of the earth, he possesses a book which is not like any other book in the world. [sidenote: cleveland leader.] it relates to a journey made by the old man under the guidance of a peculiar being into the interior of the earth. the incidents of this journey overshadow any thing that verne ever wrote in his palmiest days. but perhaps the most singular part of it is that they are all based on scientific grounds. dr. lloyd, the author of the volume, is one of the deepest students, and is well known as a profound writer on subjects pertaining to his profession, as well as one who has taken much pains in studying the occult sciences.... the book is a very pleasant one to read, a little redundant at times, but full of information.... readers who succeed in securing it will be very lucky indeed. transcriber notes: punctuation corrected without note. page : no illustration is found in the original book for this reference. page : "siezed" changed to "seized" (the guide seized me by the hand). page : "begun" changed to "began" (began a narcotic hallucination). page : "comformably" changed to "conformably" (that lies conformably with the external crust). page : "wierd" changed to "weird" (and weird, artistic pictures). plato's doctrine respecting the rotation of the earth, and aristotle's comment upon that doctrine. by george grote, esq. london: john murray, albemarle street. . _the right of translation is reserved._ london: printed by william clowes and sons, stamford street, and charing cross. examination of the three following questions:-- . whether the doctrine of the earth's rotation is affirmed or implied in the platonic timÆus? . if affirmed or implied, in what sense? . what is the cosmical function which plato assigns to the earth in the timÆus? preface. the following paper was originally intended as an explanatory note on the platonic timæus, in the work which i am now preparing on plato and aristotle. interpreting, differently from others, the much debated passage in which plato describes the cosmical function of the earth, i found it indispensable to give my reasons for this new view. but i soon discovered that those reasons could not be comprised within the limits of a note. accordingly i here publish them in a separate dissertation. the manner in which the earth's rotation was conceived, illustrates the scientific character of the platonic and aristotelian age, as contrasted with the subsequent development and improvement of astronomy. plato--on the earth's rotation. in plato, timæus, p. b, we read the following words--[greek: gê=n de\ tropho\n me\n ê(mete/ran, ei(llome/nên de\ peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non phu/laka kai\ dêmiourgo\n nukto/s te kai\ ê(me/ras e)mêchanê/sato, prô/tên kai\ presbuta/tên theô=n, o(/soi e)nto\s ou)ra/nou gego/nasi.] i give the text as it stands in stallbaum's edition. the obscurity of this passage is amply attested by the numerous differences of opinion to which it has given rise, both in ancient and in modern times. various contemporaries of plato ([greek: e)/nioi]--aristot. de coelo, ii. , p. b. ) understood it as asserting or implying the rotatory movement of the earth in the centre of the kosmos, and adhered to this doctrine as their own. aristotle himself alludes to these contemporaries without naming them, and adopts their interpretation of the passage; but dissents from the doctrine, and proceeds to impugn it by arguments. cicero mentions (academic ii. ) that there were persons who believed plato to have indicated the same doctrine obscurely, in his timaeus: this passage must undoubtedly be meant. plutarch devotes a critical chapter to the enquiry, what was plato's real doctrine as to the cosmical function of the earth--its movement or rest (quaestion. platonic. vii. , p. .) there exists a treatise, in doric dialect, entitled [greek: ti/maio** tô= lo/krô peri\ psucha=s ko/smô kai\ phu/sios], which is usually published along with the works of plato. this treatise was supposed in ancient times to be a genuine production of the lokrian timaeus, whom plato introduces as his spokesman in the dialogue so called. as such, it was considered to be of much authority in settling questions of interpretation as to the platonic timaeus. but modern critics hold, i believe unanimously, that it is the work of some later pythagorean or platonist, excerpted or copied from the platonic timaeus. this treatise represents the earth as being in the centre and at rest. but its language, besides being dark and metaphorical, departs widely from the phraseology of the platonic timaeus: especially in this--that it makes no mention of the cosmical axis, nor of the word [greek: i)llome/nên] or [greek: ei(loume/nên]. alexander of aphrodisias (as we learn from simplikius ad aristot. de coelo, fol. ) followed the construction of plato given by aristotle. "it was improbable (he said) that aristotle could be ignorant either what the word signified, or what was plato's purpose" ([greek: a)lla\ tô=| a)ristote/lei, phêsi\n, ou(/tô le/gonti _i)/llesthai_, ou)k eu)/logon a)ntile/gein; ô(s a)lêthô=s ga\r ou)/te tê=s le/xeôs to\ sêmaino/menon ei)ko\s ê)=n a)gnoei=n au)to\n, ou)/te to\n pla/tônos skopo/n.] this passage is not given in the scholia of brandis). alexander therefore construed [greek: i)llome/nên] as meaning or implying rotatory movement, though in so doing he perverted (so simplikius says) the true meaning to make it consonant with his own suppositions. proklus maintains that aristotle has interpreted the passage erroneously,--that [greek: i)llome/nên] is equivalent to [greek: sphiggome/nên] or [greek: xunechome/nên]--and that plato intends by it to affirm the earth as at rest in the centre of the kosmos (ad timaeum, book iv., p. ed. schneider). simplikius himself is greatly perplexed, and scarcely ventures to give a positive opinion of his own. on the whole, he inclines to believe that [greek: i)llome/nên] might possibly be understood, by superficial readers, so as to signify rotation, though such is not its proper and natural sense: that some platonists did so misunderstand it: and that aristotle accepted their sense for the sake of the argument, without intending himself to countenance it (ad aristot. de coelo, p. ). both proklus and simplikius, we must recollect, believed in the genuineness of the doric treatise ascribed to timaeus locrus. reasoning upon this basis, they of course saw, that if aristotle had correctly interpreted plato, plato himself must have interpreted _incorrectly_ the doctrine of timaeus. they had to ascribe wrong construction either to plato or to aristotle: and they could not bear to ascribe it to plato. alkinous, in his eisagôge (c. ) gives the same interpretation as proklus. but it is remarkable that in his paraphrase of the platonic words, he calls the earth [greek: ê(me/ras phu/lax kai\ nukto/s]: omitting the significant epithet [greek: dêmiourgo/s]. in regard to modern comments upon the same disputed point, i need only mention (besides those of m. cousin, in the notes upon his translation of the 'timæus', and of martin in his 'Études sur le timée') the elaborate discussion which it has received in the two recent dissertations 'ueber die kosmischen systeme der griechen,' by gruppe and boeckh. gruppe has endeavoured, upon the evidence of this passage, supported by other collateral proofs, to show that plato, towards the close of his life, arrived at a belief, first, in the rotation of the earth round its own axis, next, at the double movement of the earth, both rotation and translation, round the sun as a centre (that is, the heliocentric or copernican system): that plato was the first to make this discovery, but that he was compelled to announce it in terms intentionally equivocal and obscure, for fear of offending the religious sentiments of his contemporaries ('die kosmischen systeme der griechen, von o. f. gruppe,' berlin, ). to this dissertation m. boeckh--the oldest as well as the ablest of all living philologists--has composed an elaborate reply, with his usual fulness of illustrative matter and sobriety of inference. opinions previously delivered by him (in his early treatises on the platonic and pythagoreian philosophy) had been called in question by gruppe: he has now re-asserted them and defended them at length, maintaining that plato always held the earth to be stationary and the sidereal sphere rotatory--and answering or extenuating the arguments which point to an opposite conclusion ('untersuchungen über das kosmische system des platon, von august boeckh,' berlin, ). gruppe has failed in his purpose of proving that plato adopted either of the two above-mentioned doctrines--either the rotation of the earth round its own axis, or the translation of the earth round the sun as a centre. on both these points i concur with boeckh in the negative view. but though i go along with his reply as to its negative results, i cannot think it satisfactory in its positive aspect as an exposition of the doctrine proclaimed in the platonic timæus: nor can i admit that the main argument of m. boeckh's treatise is sufficient to support the inference which he rests upon it. moreover, he appears to me to set aside or explain away too lightly the authority of aristotle. i agree with alexander of aphrodisias and with gruppe who follows him, in pronouncing aristotle to be a good witness, when he declares what were the doctrines proclaimed in the platonic timæus; though i think that gruppe has not accurately interpreted either timæus or aristotle. the capital argument of boeckh is as follows: "the platonic timæus affirms, in express and unequivocal terms, the rotation of the outer celestial sphere (the sidereal sphere or aplanes) in twenty-four hours, as bringing about and determining the succession of day and night. whoever believes this cannot at the same time believe that the earth revolves round its own axis in twenty-four hours, and that the succession of day and night is determined thereby. the one of these two affirmations excludes the other; and, as the first of the two is proclaimed, beyond all possibility of doubt, in the platonic timæus, so we may be sure that the second of the two cannot be proclaimed in that same discourse. if any passage therein seems to countenance it, we must look for some other mode of interpreting the passage." this is the main argument of m. boeckh, and also of messrs. cousin and martin. the latter protests against the idea of imputing to plato "un mélange monstrueux de deux systêmes incompatibles" (Études sur le timée, vol. ii. p. - ). as applied to any person educated in the modern astronomy, the argument is irresistible. but is it equally irresistible when applied to plato and to plato's time? i think not. the incompatibility which appears so glaring at present, did not suggest itself to him or to his contemporaries. to prove this we have only to look at the reasoning of aristotle, who (in the treatise de coelo, ii. - , p. . b. , . a. ) notices and controverts the doctrine of the rotation of the earth, with express reference to the followers of the platonic timæus--and who (if we follow the view of martin) imputes this doctrine with wilful falsehood to plato, for the purpose of contemptuously refuting it "pour se donner le plaisir de la réfuter avec dédain." granting the view of m. boeckh (still more that of martin) to be correct, we should find aristotle arguing thus:--"plato affirms the diurnal rotation of the earth round the centre of the cosmical axis. this is both incredible, and incompatible with his own distinct affirmation that the sidereal sphere revolves in twenty-four hours. it is a glaring inconsistency that the same author should affirm both the one and the other." such would have been aristotle's reasoning, on the hypothesis which i am considering; but when we turn to his treatise we find that he does not employ this argument at all. he contests the alleged rotation of the earth upon totally different arguments--chiefly on the ground that rotatory motion is not natural to the earth, that the kind of motion natural to the earth is rectilineal, towards the centre; and he adds various corollaries flowing from this doctrine which i shall not now consider. at the close of his refutation, he states in general terms that the celestial appearances, as observed by scientific men, coincided with his doctrine. hence we may plainly see that aristotle probably did not see the incompatibility, supposed to be so glaring, upon which m. boeckh's argument is founded. to say the least, even if he saw it, he did not consider it as glaring and decisive. he would have put it in the foreground of his refutation, if he had detected the gross contradiction upon which m. boeckh insists. but aristotle does not stand alone in this dulness of vision. among the various commentators, ancient and modern, who follow him, discussing the question now before us, not one takes notice of m. boeckh's argument. he himself certifies to us this fact, claiming the argument as his own, and expressing his astonishment that all the previous critics had passed it over, though employing other reasons much weaker to prove the same point. we read in m. boeckh's second 'commentatio de platonico systemate coelestium globorum et de verâ indole astronomiæ philolaicæ,' heidelberg, , p. , the following words:-- "non moveri tellurem, proclus et simplicius ostendunt ex phædone. parum firmum tamen argumentum est ex phædone ductum ad interpretandum timæi locum: nec melius alterum, quod locrus timæus, quem plato sequi putabatur, terram stare affirmat: quia, ut nuper explicuimus, non plato ex locro, sed personatus locrus ex platone, sua compilavit. at omnium firmissionum et certissimum argumentum ex ipso nostro dialogo sumptum, _adhuc, quod jure mirere, nemo reperit_. etenim, quum, paulo supra, orbem stellarum fixarum, quem græci [greek: a)planê=] appellant, dextrorsum ferri quotidiano motu plato statuebat, non poterat ullum terræ motum admittere; quia, _qui hunc admittit, illum non tollere non potest_." (this passage appears again cited by m. boeckh himself in his more recent dissertation 'untersuchungen über das kosmische system des platon,' p. ). the writers named (p. ) as having discussed the question, omitting or disregarding this most cogent argument, are names extending from aristotle down to ruhnken and ideler. it is honourable to the penetration of m. boeckh that he should have pointed out, what so many previous critics had overlooked, that these two opinions are scientifically incompatible. he wonders, and there may be good ground for wondering, how it happened that none of these previous writers were aware of the incompatibility. but the fact that it did not occur to them, is not the less certain, and is of the greatest moment in reference to the question now under debate; for we are not now inquiring what is or is not scientifically true or consistent, but what were the opinions of plato. m. boeckh has called our attention to the fact, that these two opinions are incompatible; but can we safely assume that plato must have perceived such incompatibility between them? surely not. the pythagoreans of his day did not perceive it; their cosmical system included both the revolution of the earth and the revolution of the sidereal sphere round the central fire, ten revolving bodies in all (aristotel. metaphysic. i. , p. a. . de coelo, ii. , p. b. ). they were not aware that the revolutions of the one annulled those of the other as to effect, and that their system thus involved the two contradictory articles, or "mélange monstrueux," of which martin speaks so disdainfully. nay, more, their opponent, aristotle, while producing other arguments against them, never points out the contradiction. since it did not occur to them, we can have no greater difficulty in believing that neither did it occur to plato. indeed, the wonder would rather be if plato _had_ seen an astronomical incompatibility which escaped the notice both of aristotle and of many subsequent writers who wrote at a time when astronomical theories had been developed and compared with greater fulness. even ideler, a good astronomer as well as a good scholar, though he must surely have known that plato asserted the rotation of the sidereal sphere (for no man can read the 'timæus' without knowing it), ascribed to him also the other doctrine inconsistent with it, not noticing such inconsistency until m. boeckh pointed it out. it appears to me, therefore, that m. boeckh has not satisfactorily made good his point--"plato cannot have believed in the diurnal rotation of the earth, because he unquestionably believed in the rotation of the sidereal sphere as causing the succession of night and day." for, though the two doctrines really are incompatible, yet the critics antecedent to m. boeckh took no notice of such incompatibility. we cannot presume that plato saw what aristotle and other authors, even many writing under a more highly developed astronomy, did not see. we ought rather, i think, to presume the contrary, unless plato's words distinctly attest that he did see farther than his successors. now let us examine what plato's words do attest:--[greek: gê=n de\ tropho\n me\n ê(mete/ran, ei(llome/nên] (al. [greek: ei(lome/nên, i)llome/nên]) [greek: de\ peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non phu/laka kai\ dêmiourgo\n nukto/s te kai\ ê(me/ras e)mêchanê/sato, prô/tên kai\ presbuta/tên theô=n, o(/soi e)nto\s ou)ra/nou gego/nasi.] i explain these words as follows:-- in the passage immediately preceding, plato had described the uniform and unchanging rotation of the outer sidereal sphere, or circle of the same, and the erratic movements of the sun, moon, and planets, in the interior circles of the diverse. he now explains the situation and functions of the earth. being the first and most venerable of the intra-kosmic deities, the earth has the most important place in the interior of the kosmos--the centre. it is packed, fastened, or rolled, close round the axis which traverses the entire kosmos; and its function is to watch over and bring about the succession of night and day. _plato conceives the kosmic axis itself as a solid cylinder revolving or turning round, and causing thereby the revolution of the circumference or the sidereal sphere._ the outer circumference of the kosmos not only revolves round its axis, but obeys a rotatory impulse emanating from its axis, like the spinning of a teetotum or the turning of a spindle. plato in the republic illustrates the cosmical axis by comparison with a spindle turned by necessity, and describes it as causing by its own rotation the rotation of all the heavenly bodies (republ. x. p. , c. a). [greek: e)k de\ tô=n a)/krôn tetame/non a)na/gkês a)/trakton, di' ou(= pa/sas e)pistre/phesthai ta\s peri/phoras . . . , kuklei=sthai de\ dê\ strepho/menon to\n a)/trakton o(/lon me\n tê\n au)tê\n phoran . . . . stre/phesthai de\ au)to\n e)n toi=s a)na/gkês go/nasin.][ ] [footnote : proklus in his commentary on the platonic timæus (p. , schn.) notes this passage of the republic as the proper comparison from which to interpret how plato conceived the cosmical axis. in many points he explains this correctly; but he omits to remark that the axis is expressly described as revolving, and as causing the revolution of the peripheral substance:-- ----[greek: to\n de\ a)/xona mi/an theo/têta sunagôgo\n me\n tô=n ke/ntrôn tou= panto\s sunektikê\n de\ tou= o(/lou ko/smou, _kinêtikê\n de\ tô=n thei/ôn periphorô=n_, peri\ ê(\n ê( chorei/a** tô=n o(/lôn, peri\ ê(\n ai( a)nakuklê/seis, a)ne/chousan to\n o(/lon ou)rano\n,** ê(\n kai\ a)/tlanta dia\ tou=to proseirê/kasin, ô(s a)/trepton kai\ a)/truton e)ne/rgeian e)/chousan. kai\ me/ntoi kai\ to\ tetame/non** e)ndei/knutai** titê/nion ei)=nai tê\n mi/an _tau/tên du/namin, tê\n phrourêtikê\n tê=s a)nakuklê/seôs tô=n o(/lôn_.] here proklus recognises the efficacy of the axis in producing and maintaining the revolution of the kosmos, but he does not remark that it initiates this movement by revolving itself. the [greek: theotê\s], which proklus ascribes to the axis, is invested in the earth packed round it, by the platonic timæus.] now the function which plato ascribes to the earth in the passage of the timæus before us is very analogous to that which in the republic he ascribes to necessity--the active guardianship of the axis of the kosmos and the maintenance of its regular rotation. with a view to the exercise of this function, the earth is planted in the centre of the axis, the very root of the kosmic soul (plato, timæus, p. b). it is even "packed close round the axis," in order to make sure that the axis shall not be displaced from its proper situation and direction. the earth is thus not merely active and influential, but is really the chief regulator of the march of the kosmos, being the immediate neighbour and auxiliary of the kosmic soul. such a function is worthy of "the first and eldest of intra-kosmic deities," as plato calls the earth. with perfect propriety he may say that the earth, in the exercise of such a function, "is guardian and artificer of day and night." this is noway inconsistent with that which he says in another passage, that the revolutions of the outer sidereal sphere determine day and night. for these revolutions of the outer sidereal sphere depend upon the revolutions of the axis, which latter is kept in uniform position and movement by the earth grasping it round its centre and revolving with it. the earth does not determine days and nights by means of its own rotations, but by its continued influence upon the rotations of the kosmic axis, and (through this latter) upon those of the outer sidereal sphere. it is important to attend to the circumstance last mentioned, and to understand in what sense plato admitted a rotatory movement of the earth. in my judgment, the conception respecting the earth and its functions, as developed in the platonic timæus, has not been considered with all its points taken together. one point among several, and that too the least important point, has been discussed as if it were the whole, because it falls in with the discussions of subsequent astronomy. thus plato admits the rotation of the earth, but he does not admit it as producing any effects, or as the primary function of the earth: it is only an indirect consequence of the position which the earth occupies in the discharge of its primary function--of keeping the cosmical axis steady, and maintaining the uniformity of its rotations. if the cosmical axis is to revolve, the earth, being closely packed and fastened round it, must revolve along with it. if the earth stood still, and resisted all rotation of its own, it would at the same time arrest the rotations of the cosmical axis, and of course those of the entire kosmos besides. the above is the interpretation which i propose of the passage in the platonic timæus, and which i shall show to coincide with aristotle's comment upon it. messrs. boeckh and martin interpret differently. they do not advert to the sense in which plato conceives the axis of the kosmos--not as an imaginary line, but as a solid revolving cylinder; and moreover they understand the function assigned by the platonic timæus to the earth in a way which i cannot admit. they suppose that the function assigned to the earth is not to keep up and regularize, but to withstand and countervail, the rotation of the kosmos. m. boeckh comments upon gruppe, who had said (after ideler) that when the earth is called [greek: phu/laka _kai\ dêmiourgo\n_ nukto\s kai\ ê(me/ras], plato must have meant to designate some active function ascribed to it, and not any function merely passive or negative. i agree with gruppe in this remark, and i have endeavoured to point out what this active function of the earth is, in the platonic theory. but m. boeckh (untersuchungen, &c., p. - ) controverts gruppe's remark, observing, first, that it is enough if the earth is in any way necessary to the production of the given effect; secondly, that if active force be required, the earth (in the platonic theory) does exercise such, by its purely passive resistance, which is in itself an energetic putting forth of power. m. boeckh's words are:--"es kommt nur darauf an, dass er ein werk, eine wirkung, hervorbringt oder zu einer wirkung beiträgt, die ohne ihn nicht wäre: dann ist er durch seine wirksamkeit ein werkmeister der sache, sey es auch ohne active thätigkeit, durch bloss passiven widerstand, der auch eine mächtige kraft-äusserung ist. die erde ist werkmeisterin der nacht und des tages, wie martin (b. ii. p. ) sehr treffend sagt 'par son énergique existence, c'est à dire, par son immobilité même:' denn sie setzt der täglichen bewegung des himmels beständig eine gleiche kraft in entgegengesetzter richtung entgegen. so _muss_ nach dem zusammenhange ausgelegt werden: so meint es platon klar und ohne verhüllungen: denn wenige zeilen vorher hat er gesagt, nacht und tag, das heisst ein sterntag oder zeittag, sei ein umlauf des kreises des selbigen--_das ist, eine tägliche umkreisung des himmels von osten nach westen, wodurch also die erde in stillstand versetzt ist:_ und diese tägliche bewegung des himmels hat er im vorhergehenden immer und immer gelehrt." . . . . "indem platon die erde nennt [greek: ei(lome/nên], nicht [greek: peri\ to\n e(autê=s po/lon], sondern [greek: peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non], setzt er also die tägliche bewegung des himmels voraus" (p. - ).[ ] [footnote : "we are only required to show, that the earth produces a work or an effect,--or contributes to an effect which would not exist without such help: the earth is then, through such operation, an _artificer_ of what is produced, even without any positive activity, by its simply passive resistance, which indeed is in itself a powerful exercise of force.** the earth is artificer of night and day, according to the striking expression of martin, 'par son énergique existence, c'est-à-dire, par son immobilité même:' for the earth opposes, to the diurnal movement of the heavens, a constant and equal force in the opposite direction. this explanation _must_ be the true one required by the context: this is plato's meaning, plainly and without disguise: for he has said, a few lines before, that night and day (that is, a sidereal day, or day of time) is a diurnal revolution of the heaven from east to west, whereby accordingly the earth is assumed as at rest: and this diurnal movement of the heaven he has taught over and over again in the preceding part of his discourse."--"since therefore plato calls the earth [greek: ei(lome/nên], not [greek: peri\ to\n e(autê=s po/lon], but [greek: peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non], he implies thereby the diurnal movement of the heaven."] i not only admit but put it in the front of my own case, that plato in the timæus assumes the diurnal movement of the celestial sphere; but i contend that he also assumes the diurnal rotation of the earth. m. boeckh founds his contrary interpretation upon the unquestionable truth that these two assumptions are inconsistent; and upon the inference that because the two cannot stand together in fact, therefore they cannot have stood together in the mind of plato. in that inference i have already stated that i cannot acquiesce. but while m. boeckh takes so much pains to vindicate plato from one contradiction, he unconsciously involves plato in another contradiction, for which, in my judgment, there is no foundation whatever. m. boeckh affirms that the function of the earth (in the platonic timæus) is to put forth a great force of passive resistance--"to oppose constantly, against the diurnal movement of the heavens, an equal force in an opposite direction." is it not plain, upon this supposition, that the kosmos would come to a standstill, and that its rotation would cease altogether? as the earth is packed close or fastened round the cosmical axis, so, if the axis endeavours to revolve with a given force, and the earth resists with equal force, the effect will be that the two forces will destroy one another, and that neither the earth nor the axis will move at all. there would be the same nullifying antagonism as if,--reverting to the analogous case of the spindle and the verticilli (already alluded to) in the tenth book of the republic,--as if, while ananké turned the spindle with a given force in one direction, klotho (instead of lending assistance) were to apply her hand to the outermost verticillus with equal force of resistance in the opposite direction (see reipubl. x. p. d). it is plain that the spindle would never turn at all. here, then, is a grave contradiction attaching to the view of boeckh and martin as to the function of the earth. they have not, in my judgment, sufficiently investigated the manner in which plato represents to himself the cosmical axis: nor have they fully appreciated what is affirmed or implied in the debated word [greek: ei(lo/menon--ei(lou/menon--i)llo/menon]. that word has been explained partly by ruhnken in his notes on timæi lexicon, but still more by buttmann in his lexilogus, so accurately and copiously as to leave nothing further wanting. i accept fully the explanation given by buttmann, and have followed it throughout this article. after going over many other examples, buttmann comes to consider this passage of the platonic timæus; and he explains the word [greek: ei(lome/nên] or [greek: i)llo/menên] as meaning--"_sich drängen oder gedrängt werden_ um die axe: d. h. von allen seiten her an die axe. auch lasse man sich das praesens nicht irren: die kräfte, welche den weltbau machen und zusammen halten, sind als fortdauernd thätig gedacht. die erde drängt sich (ununterbrochen) an den pol, _macht, bildet eine kugel um ihn_. welcher gebrauch völlig entspricht dem wonach dasselbe verbum ein _einwickeln_, _einhüllen_, bedeutet. auch hier mengt sich in der vorstellung einiges hinzu, was auf ein _biegen_ _winden_, und mitunter auf ein _drehen_ führt: was aber _überall nur ein durch die sache selbst hinzutretender begriff ist_," p. . and again, p. , he gives the result--that the word has only "die bedeutung _drängen_, _befestigen_, nebst den davon ausgehenden--die von _drehen_, _winden_, aber ihm _gänzlich fremd_ sind, _und nur aus der natur der gegenstände in einigen fällen als nebengedanken hinzutreten_."[ ] [footnote : "to _pack itself_, or to _be packed_, round the axis: that is, upon the axis from all sides. we must not be misled by the present tense: for the forces, which compose and hold together the structure of the universe, are conceived as continuously in active operation. the earth _packs itself_, or _is packed_, on to the axis--_makes or forms a ball round the axis:_ which corresponds fully to that other usage of the word, in the sense of _wrapping up_ or _swathing round_. here too there is a superadded something blended with the idea, which conducts us to _turning_, _winding_, and thus to _revolving_: but this is every where nothing more than an accessory notion, suggested by the circumstances of the case. the word has only the meaning, to _pack_, to _fasten_--the senses, to _wind_, to _revolve_, are altogether foreign to it, and can only be superadded as accessory ideas, in certain particular instances, by the special nature of the case."] in these last words buttmann has exactly distinguished the true, constant, and essential meaning of the word, from the casual accessories which become conjoined with it by the special circumstances of some peculiar cases. the constant and true meaning of the word is, _being packed or fastened close round_, _squeezing or grasping around_. the idea of _rotating_ or _revolving_ is quite foreign to this meaning, but may nevertheless become conjoined with it, in certain particular cases, by accidental circumstances. let us illustrate this. when i say that a body _a_ is [greek: ei(lo/menon] or [greek: i)llo/menon] (packed or fastened close round, squeezing or grasping around), another body _b_, i affirm nothing about revolution or rotation. this is an idea foreign to the proposition _per se_, yet capable of being annexed or implicated with it under some accidental circumstances. whether in any particular case it be so implicated or not depends on the question "what is the nature of the body _b_, round which i affirm _a_ to be fastened?" . it may be an oak tree or a pillar, firmly planted and stationary. . it may be some other body, moving, but moving in a rectilinear direction. . lastly, it may be a body rotating or intended to rotate, like a spindle, a spit, or the rolling cylinder of a machine. in the first supposition, all motion is excluded: in the second, rectilinear motion is implied, but rotatory motion is excluded: in the third, rotatory motion is implied as a certain adjunct. the body which is fastened round another, must share the motion or the rest of that other. if the body _b_ is a revolving cylinder, and if i affirm that _a_ is packed or fastened close round it, i introduce the idea of rotation; though only as an accessory and implied fact, in addition to that which the proposition affirms. the body _a_, being fastened round the cylinder _b_, must either revolve along with it and round it, or it must arrest the rotation of _b_. if the one revolves, so must the other; both must either revolve together, or stand still together. this is a new fact, distinct from what is affirmed in the proposition, yet implied in it or capable of being inferred from it through induction and experience. here we see exactly the position of plato in regard to the rotation of the earth. he does not affirm it in express terms, but he affirms what implies it. for when he says that the earth is packed, or fastened close round the cosmical axis, he conveys to us by implication the knowledge of another and distinct fact--that the earth and the cosmical axis must either revolve together or remain stationary together--that the earth must either revolve along with the axis or arrest the revolutions of the axis. it is manifest that plato does not mean the revolutions of the axis of the kosmos to be arrested: they are absolutely essential to the scheme of the timæus--they are the grand motive-agency of the kosmos. he must, therefore, mean to imply that the earth revolves along with and around the cosmical axis. and thus the word [greek: ei(lo/menon] or [greek: i)llo/menon], according to buttmann's doctrine, becomes accidentally conjoined, through the specialities of this case, with an accessory idea of rotation or revolution; though that idea is foreign to its constant and natural meaning. now if we turn to aristotle, we shall find that he understood the word [greek: ei(lo/menon] or [greek: i)llo/menon], and the proposition of plato, exactly in this sense. here i am compelled to depart from buttmann, who affirms (p. ), with an expression of astonishment, that aristotle misunderstood the proposition of plato, and interpreted [greek: ei(lo/menon] or [greek: i)llo/menon] as if it meant directly as well as incontestably, _rotating_ or _revolving_. proklus, in his commentary on the timæus, had before raised the same controversy with aristotle--[greek: i)llome/nên de\, tê\n sphiggome/nên dêloi= kai\ sunechome/nên ou) ga\r ô(s a)ristote/lês oi)/etai, tê\n kinoume/nên] (procl. p. ). let us, therefore, examine the passages of aristotle out of which this difficulty arises. the passages are two, both of them in the second book de coelo; one in cap. , the other in cap. (p. b. , a. ). . the first stands--[greek: e)/nioi de\ kai\ keime/nên (tê\n gê=n) e)pi\ tou= ke/ntrou phasi\n au)tê\n i)/llesthai peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s tetame/non po/lon, ô(/sper e)n tô=| timai/ô|** ge/graptai.** such is the reading of bekker in the berlin edition: but he gives various readings of two different mss.--the one having [greek: i)/llesthai kai\ kinei=sthai]--the other ei(lei=sthai** kai\ kinei=sthai]. . the second stands, beginning chap. --[greek: ê(mei=s de\ le/gômen prô=ton po/teron] (the earth) [greek: e)/chei ki/nêsin ê)\ me/nei; katha/per ga\r ei)/pomen, oi( me\n au)tê\n e(\n tô=n a)/strôn poiou=sin, oi( d' e)pi\** tou= me/sou the/ntes i)/llesthai kai\ kinei=shai/ phasi peri\ to\n po/lon me/son.] now, in the first of these two passages, where aristotle simply brings the doctrine to view without any comment, he expressly refers to the timæus, and therefore quotes the expression of that dialogue without any enlargement. he undoubtedly understands the affirmation of plato--that the earth was fastened round the cosmical axis--as implying that it rotated along with the rotations of that axis. aristotle thus construes [greek: i)/llesthai], _in that particular proposition_ of the timæus, as implying rotation. but he plainly did not construe [greek: i)/llesthai] as naturally and constantly either denoting or implying rotation. this is proved by his language in the second passage, where he reproduces the very same doctrine with a view to discuss and confute it, and without special reference to the platonic timæus. here we find that he is not satisfied to express the doctrine by the single word [greek: i)/llesthai]. he subjoins another verb--[greek: i)/llesthai kai\ kinei=sthai]: thus bringing into explicit enunciation the fact of rotatory movement, which, while [greek: i)/llesthai] stood alone, was only known by implication and inference from the circumstances of the particular case. if he had supposed [greek: i)/llesthai] by itself to signify _revolving_ the addition of [greek: kinei=sthai] would have been useless, unmeaning, and even impertinent. aristotle, as boeckh remarks, is not given to multiply words unnecessarily. it thus appears, when we examine the passages of aristotle, that he understood [greek: i)/llesthai] quite in conformity with buttmann's explanation. rotatory movement forms no part of the meaning of the word; yet it may accidentally, in a particular case, be implied as an adjunct of the meaning, by virtue of the special circumstances of that case. aristotle describes the doctrine as held by _some persons_. he doubtless has in view various platonists of his time, who adopted and defended what had been originally advanced by plato in the timæus. m. boeckh, in a discussion of some length (untersuch. p. - ), maintains the opinion that the reading in the first passage of aristotle is incorrect; that the two words [greek: i)/llesthai kai\ kinei=sthai] ought to stand in the first as they do in the second,--as he thinks that they stood in the copy of simplikius: that aristotle only made reference to plato with a view to the peculiar word [greek: i)/llesthai], and not to the general doctrine of the rotation of the earth: that he comments upon this doctrine as held by others, but not by plato--who (according to boeckh) was known by everyone not to hold it. m. boeckh gives this only as a conjecture, and i cannot regard his arguments in support of it as convincing. but even if he had convinced me that [greek: i)/llesthai kai\ kinei=sthai] were the true reading in the first passage, as well as in the second, i should merely say that aristotle had not thought himself precluded by the reference to the timæus from bringing out into explicit enunciation what the platonists whom he had in view knew to be implied and intended by the passage. this indeed is a loose mode of citation, which i shall not ascribe to aristotle without good evidence. in the present case such evidence appears to me wanting.[ ] [footnote : exactness of citation is not always to be relied on among ancient commentators. simplikius cites this very passage of the timæus with more than one inaccuracy.--(ad aristot. de coelo, fol. .)] m. martin attributes to aristotle something more than improper citation. he says (Êtudes sur le timée, vol. ii. p. ), "si aristote citait l'opinion de la rotation de la terre comme un titre de gloire pour platon, je dirais--il est probable que la vérité l'y a forcé. mais aristote, qui admettait l'immobilité complète de la terre, attribue à platon l'opinion contraire, _pour se donner le plaisir de la réfuter avec dédain_." a few lines before, m. martin had said that the arguments whereby aristotle combated this opinion ascribed to plato were "very feeble." i am at a loss to imagine in which of aristotle's phrases m. martin finds any trace of disdain or contempt, either for the doctrine or for those who held it. for my part, i find none. the arguments of aristotle against the doctrine, whatever be their probative force, are delivered in that brief, calm, dry manner which is usual with him, without a word of sentiment or rhetoric, or anything [greek: e)/xô tou= pra/gmatos]. indeed, among all philosophers who have written much, i know none who is less open to the reproach of mingling personal sentiment with argumentative debate than aristotle. plato indulges frequently in irony, or sneering, or rhetorical invective; aristotle very rarely. moreover, even apart from the question of contempt, the part which m. martin here assumes aristotle to be playing, is among the strangest anomalies in the history of philosophy. aristotle holds, and is anxious to demonstrate, the doctrine of the earth's immobility; he knows (so we are required to believe) that plato not only holds the same doctrine, but has expressly affirmed it in the timæus: he might have produced plato as an authority in his favour, and the passage of the timæus as an express declaration; yet he prefers to pervert, knowingly and deliberately, the meaning of this passage, and to cite plato as a hostile instead of a friendly authority--simply "to give himself the pleasure of contemptuously refuting plato's opinion!" but this is not all. m. martin tells us that the arguments which aristotle produces against the doctrine are, after all, very feeble. but he farther tells us that there was one argument which might have been produced, and which, if aristotle had produced it, would have convicted plato of "an enormous contradiction" (p. ) in affirming that the earth revolved round the cosmical axis. aristotle might have said to plato--"you have affirmed, and you assume perpetually throughout the timæus, the diurnal revolution of the outer sidereal sphere; you now assert the diurnal revolution of the earth at the centre. here is an enormous contradiction; the two cannot stand together."--yet aristotle, having this triumphant argument in his hands, says not a word about it, but contents himself with various other arguments which m. martin pronounces to be very feeble. perhaps m. martin might say--"the contradiction exists; but aristotle was not sharpsighted enough to perceive it; otherwise he would have advanced it." i am quite of this opinion. if aristotle had perceived the contradiction, he would have brought it forward as the strongest point in his controversy. his silence is to me a proof that he did not perceive it. but this is a part of my case against m. martin. i believe that plato admitted both the two contradictory doctrines without perceiving the contradiction; and it is a strong presumption in favour of this view that aristotle equally failed to perceive it--though in a case where, according to m. martin, he did not scruple to resort to dishonest artifice. it appears to me that the difficulties and anomalies, in which we are involved from supposing that aristotle either misunderstood or perverted the meaning of plato--are far graver than those which would arise from admitting that plato advanced a complicated theory involving two contradictory propositions, in the same dialogue, without perceiving the contradiction; more especially when the like failure of perception is indisputably ascribable to aristotle--upon every view of the case. m. cousin maintains the same interpretation of the platonic passage as boeckh and martin, and defends it by a note on his translation of the timæus (p. ). the five arguments which he produces are considered both by himself and by martin to be unanswerable. as he puts them with great neatness and terseness, i here bestow upon them a separate examination. . "platon a toujours été considéré dans l'antiquité comme partisan de l'immobilité absolue de la terre." m. cousin had before said, "aristote se fonde sur ce passage pour établir que platon a fait tourner la terre sur elle-même: mais aristote est, dans l'antiquité, le seul qui soutienne cette opinion." my reply is, that aristotle is himself a portion and member of antiquity, and that the various platonists, whom he undertakes to refute, are portions of it also. if m. cousin appeals to the authority of antiquity, it must be to antiquity, not merely _minus_ aristotle and these contemporary platonists, but _against_ them. now these are just the witnesses who had the best means of knowledge. besides which, aristotle himself, adopting and anxious to demonstrate the immobility of the earth, had every motive to cite plato as a supporter, if plato was such--and every motive to avoid citing plato as an opponent, unless the truth of the case compelled him to do so. i must here add, that m. cousin represents aristotle as ascribing to plato the doctrine that "la terre tourne sur elle-même." this is not strictly exact. aristotle understands the platonic timæus as saying, "that the earth is packed and moved _round the axis of the kosmos_"--a different proposition. . "dans plusieurs endroits de ses ouvrages où platon parle de l'équilibre de la terre, il ne dit pas un mot de sa rotation." i know of only _one_ such passage--phædon, p. --where undoubtedly plato does not speak of the rotation of the earth; but neither does he speak of the rotation of the sidereal sphere and of the kosmos--nor of the axis of the kosmos. it is the figure and properties of the earth, considered in reference to mankind who inhabit it, that plato sketches in the phædon; he takes little notice of its cosmical relations, and gives no general theory about the kosmos. m. cousin has not adverted to the tenth book of the republic, where plato does propound a cosmical theory, expressly symbolising the axis of the kosmos with its rotatory functions. . "si la _terre suit le mouvement de l'axe du monde_, le mouvement de la huitième sphère, qui est le même, devient nul par rapport à elle, et les étoiles fixes, qui appartiennent à elle, demeurent en apparence dans une immobilité absolue: ce qui est contraire à _l'expérience et au sens commun_, et à l'opinion de platon, exprimée dans ce même passage." this third argument of m. cousin is the same as that which i have already examined in remarking upon m. boeckh. the diurnal rotation of the earth cannot stand in the same astronomical system with the diurnal rotation of the sidereal sphere. incontestably true (i have already said) as a point of science. but the question here is, not what opinions are scientifically consistent, but what opinions were held by plato, and whether he detected the inconsistency between the two. i have shown grounds for believing that he did not--and not he alone, but many others along with him, aristotle among the number. how, indeed, can this be denied, when we find m. boeckh announcing that he is the _first_ among all the critics on the timæus, who has brought forward the inconsistency as a special ground for determining what plato's opinion was--that no other critic before him had noticed it? the first words of this argument deserve particular attention, "si la terre suit le mouvement de l'axe du monde." here we have an exact recital of the doctrine proclaimed by the platonic timæus, and ascribed to him by aristotle (quite different from the doctrine "que la terre tourne sur elle-même"). m. cousin here speaks very distinctly about the cosmical axis, and about its movement; thus implying that plato conceived it as a solid revolving cylinder. this, in my judgment, is the most essential point for clearing up the question in debate. the cosmical axis being of this character, when plato affirms that the earth is _packed or fastened round it_ (_se roule_--cousin: _se serre et s'enroule_--martin: _drängt sich, macht eine kugel um ihn_--buttmann), i maintain that, in the plainest construction of the word, the earth does and must follow the movement of the axis--or arrest the movement of the axis. the word [greek: ei(lome/nên] or [greek: i)llome/nên] has no distinct meaning at all, if it does not mean this. the very synonyms ([greek: sphiggome/nên, peridedeme/nên], &c.), which the commentators produce to prove that plato describes the earth as at rest, do really prove that he describes it as rotating round and with the cosmical axis. we ought not to be driven from this plain meaning of the word, by the assurance of m. cousin and others that plato cannot have meant so, because it would involve him in an astronomical inconsistency. . "les divers mouvemens des huit sphères expliquent toutes les apparences célestes; il n'y a donc aucune raison pour donner un mouvement à la terre." the terms of this fourth argument, if literally construed, would imply that plato had devised a complete and satisfactory astronomical theory. i pass over this point, and construe them as m. cousin probably intended: his argument will then stand thus--"the movement of the earth does not add anything to plato's power of explaining astronomical appearances; therefore plato had no motive to suggest a movement of the earth." i have already specified the sense in which i understand the platonic timæus to affirm, or rather to imply, the rotation of the earth; and that sense is not open to the objections raised in m. cousin's fourth and fifth arguments. the rotation of the earth, as it appears in the platonic timæus, explains nothing, and is not intended to explain anything. it is a consequence, not a cause: it is a consequence arising from the position of the earth, as packed or fastened round the centre of the cosmical axis, whereby the earth participates, of necessity and as a matter of course, in the movements of that axis. the _function_ of the earth, thus planted in the centre of the kosmos, is to uphold and regulate the revolutions of the cosmical axis; and this function explains, in the scheme of the platonic timæus, why the axis revolves uniformly and constantly without change or displacement. now upon these revolutions of the cosmical axis all the revolutions of the exterior sphere depend. this is admitted by m. cousin himself in argument . there is therefore every reason why plato should assign such regulating function to the earth, the "first and oldest of intra-kosmic deities." the movement of the earth (as i before observed) is only an incidental consequence of the position necessary for the earth to occupy in performing such function. . "enfin platon assigne un mouvement aux étoiles fixes, et deux mouvemens aux planètes; puisqu'il ne range la terre ni avec les unes ni avec les autres, il y a lieu de croire qu'elle ne participe à aucun de leurs mouvemens." in so far as this argument is well-founded, it strengthens my case more than that of m. cousin. the earth does not participate in the movements either of the fixed stars or of the planets; but it does participate in the revolutions of the cosmical axis, upon which these movements depend--the movements of the outer sphere, wholly and exclusively--the movements of the planets, to a very great degree, but not exclusively. the earth is not ranked either among the fixed stars or among the planets; it is a body or deity _sui generis_, having a special central function of its own, to regulate that cosmical axis which impels the whole system. the earth has a motion of its own, round and along with the cosmical axis to which it is attached; but this motion of the earth (i will again repeat, to prevent misapprehension) is a fact not important by itself, nor explaining anything. the grand and capital fact is the central position and regulating function of the earth, whereby all the cosmical motions, first those of the axis, next those of the exterior kosmos, are upheld and kept uniform. m. cousin adds, as a sixth argument:-- "on peut ajouter à ces raisons que platon aurait nécessairement insisté sur le mouvement de la terre, s'il l'avait admis; et que ce point étoit trop controversé de son temps et trop important en lui-même, pour qu'il ne fît que l'indiquer en se servant d'une expression équivoque." in the first place, granting plato to have believed in the motion of the earth, can we also assume that he would necessarily have asserted it with distinctness and emphasis, as m. cousin contends? i think not. gruppe maintains exactly the contrary; telling us that plato's language was intentionally obscure and equivocal--from fear of putting himself in open conflict with the pious and orthodox sentiment prevalent around him. i do not carry this part of the case so far as gruppe, but i admit that it rests upon a foundation of reality. when we read (plutarch, de facie in orbe lunæ, p. ) how the motion of the earth, as affirmed by aristarchus of samos (doubtless in a far larger sense than plato ever imagined, including both rotation and translation), was afterwards denounced as glaring impiety, we understand the atmosphere of religious opinion with which plato was surrounded. and we also perceive that he might have reasons for preferring to indicate an astronomical heresy in terms suitable for philosophical hearers, rather than to proclaim it in such emphatic unequivocal words, as might be quoted by some future melêtus in case of an indictment before the dikasts. we must remember that plato had been actually present at the trial of sokrates. he had heard the stress laid by the accusers on astronomical heresies, analogous to those of anaxagoras, which they imputed to sokrates--and the pains taken by the latter to deny that he held such opinions (see the platonic apology). the impression left by such a scene on plato's mind was not likely to pass away: nor can we be surprised that he preferred to use propositions which involved and implied, rather than those which directly and undisguisedly asserted, the heretical doctrine of the earth's rotation. that his phraseology, however indirect, was perfectly understood by contemporary philosophers, both assentient and dissentient, as embodying his belief in the doctrine--is attested by the two passages of aristotle. upon these reasons alone i should dissent from m. cousin's sixth argument. but i have other reasons besides. he rests it upon the two allegations that the doctrine of the earth's motion was the subject of much controversial debate in plato's time, and of great importance in itself. now the first of these two allegations can hardly be proved, as to the time of plato; for aristotle, when he is maintaining the earth's immobility, does not specify any other opponents than the pythagoreians and the followers of the platonic timæus. and the second allegation i believe to be unfounded, speaking with reference to the platonic timæus. in the cosmical system therein embodied, the rotation of the earth round the cosmical axis, though a real part of the system, was in itself a fact of no importance, and determining no results. the capital fact of the system was the position and function of the earth, packed close round the centre of the cosmical axis, and regulating the revolutions of that axis. plato had no motive to bring prominently forward the circumstance that the earth revolved itself along with the cosmical axis, which circumstance was only an incidental accompaniment. i have thus examined all the arguments adduced by m. cousin, and have endeavoured to show that they fail in establishing his conclusion. there is, however, one point of the controversy in which i concur with him more than with boeckh and martin. this point is the proper conception of what plato means by the _cosmical axis_. boeckh and martin seem to assume this upon the analogy of what is now spoken of as the axis of the earth: m. boeckh (p. ) declares the axis of the kosmos to be a prolongation of that axis. but it appears to me (and m. cousin's language indicates the same) that plato's conception was something very different. the axis of the earth (what astronomers speak of as such) is an imaginary line traversing the centre of the earth; a line round which the earth revolves. now the cosmical axis, as plato conceives it, is a solid material cylinder, which not only itself revolves, but causes by this revolution the revolution of the exterior circumference of the kosmos. this is a conception entirely different from that which we mean when we speak of the axis of the earth. it is, however, a conception symbolically enunciated in the tenth book of the republic, where the spindle of necessity is said to be composed of adamant, hard and solid material, and to cause by its own rotation the rotation of all the _verticilli_ packed and fastened around it. what is thus enunciated in the republic is implied in the timæus. for when we read therein that the earth is packed or fastened round the cosmical axis, how can we understand it to be packed or fastened round an imaginary line? i will add that the very same meaning is brought out in the translation of cicero--"_trajecto axe sustinetur_" (terra). the axis, round which the earth is fastened, and which sustains the earth, must be conceived, not as an imaginary line, but as a solid cylinder, itself revolving; while the earth, being fastened round it, revolves round and along with it. the axis, in the sense of an imaginary line, cannot be found in the conception of plato. those contemporaries of plato and aristotle, who all agreed in asserting the revolution of the celestial sphere, did not all agree in their idea of the force whereby such revolution was brought about. some thought that the poles of the celestial sphere exercised a determining force: others symbolised the mythical atlas, as an axis traversing the sphere from pole to pole and turning it round. (aristotel. de motu animal. . p. a. - .) aristotle himself advocated the theory of a _primum movens immobile_ acting upon the sphere from without the sphere. even in the succeeding centuries, when astronomy was more developed, aratus, eratosthenes, and their commentators, differed in their way of conceiving the cosmical axis. most of them considered it as solid: but of these, some thought it was stationary, with the sphere revolving round it--others that it revolved itself: again, among these latter, some believed that the revolutions of the axis determined those of the surrounding sphere--others, that the revolutions of the sphere caused those of the axis within it. again, there were some physical philosophers who looked at the axis as airy or spiritual--[greek: to\ dia\ me/sou tê=s sphai/ras diê=kon pneu=ma]. then there were geometers who conceived it only as an imaginary line. (see the phaenomena of aratus - --with the scholia thereon; achilles tatius ad arati phaenom. apud petavium--uranolog. p. ; also hipparchus ad arat. ib. p. .) i do not go into these dissentient opinions farther than to show, how indispensable it is, when we construe the passage in the platonic timaeus, [greek: peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non], to enquire in what sense plato understood the cosmical axis: and how unsafe it is to assume at once that he must have conceived it as an imaginary line. proklus argues that because the earth is mentioned by plato in the phædon as stationary in the centre of the heaven, we cannot imagine plato to affirm its rotation in the timæus. i agree with m. boeckh in thinking this argument inconclusive; all the more, because, in the phædon, not a word is said either about the axis of the kosmos, or about the rotation of the kosmos; all that sokrates professes to give is [greek: tê\n i)de/an tê=s gê=s kai\ tou\s to/pous au)tê=s**] (p. e). no cosmical system or theory is propounded in that dialogue. when we turn to the phædrus, we find that, in its highly poetical description, the rotation of the heaven occupies a prominent place. the internal circumference of the heavenly sphere, as well as its external circumference or back ([greek: nô=ton]), are mentioned; also its periodical rotations, during which the gods are carried round on the back of the heaven, and contemplate the eternal ideas occupying the super-celestial space (p. , ), or the plain of truth.[ ] but the purpose of this poetical representation appears to be metaphysical and intellectual, to illustrate the antithesis presented by the world of ideas and truth on one side--against that of sense and appearances on the other. astronomically and cosmically considered, no intelligible meaning is conveyed. nor can we even determine whether the rotations of the heaven, alluded to in the phædrus, are intended to be diurnal or not; i incline to believe not ([greek: me/chri tê=s _e(te/ras_ perio/dou]--p. --which can hardly be understood of so short a time as one day). lastly, nothing is said in the phædrus about the cosmical axis; and it is upon this that the rotations of the earth intimated in the timæus depend. [footnote : whether [greek: e)sti/a] in the phædrus, which is said "to remain alone stationary in the house of the gods," can be held to mean the earth, is considered by proklus to be uncertain (p. ).] among the different illustrations, given by plato in his different dialogues respecting the terrestrial and celestial bodies, i select the tenth book of the republic as that which is most suitable for comparison with the timæus, because it is only therein that we learn how plato conceived the axis of the kosmos. m. boeckh (untersuchungen, p. ) wishes us to regard the difference between the view taken in the phædon, and that in the republic, as no way important; he affirms that the adamantine spindle in the republic is altogether mythical or poetical, and that plato conceives the axis as not being material. on this point i dissent from m. boeckh. the mythical illustrations in the tenth book of the republic appear to me quite unsuitable to the theory of an imaginary, stationary, and immaterial axis. here i much more agree with gruppe (p. , - ), who recognises the solid material axis as an essential feature of the cosmical theory in the republic; and recognises also the marked difference between that theory and what we read in the phædon. yet, though gruppe is aware of this important difference between the republic and the phædon, he still wishes to illustrate the timæus by the latter and not by the former. he affirms that the earth in the timæus is conceived as unattached, and freely suspended, the same as in the phædon; but that in the timæus it is conceived, besides, as revolving on its own axis, which we do not find in the phædon (p. , ). here i think gruppe is mistaken. in construing the words of timæus, [greek: ei(lome/nên (i)llome/nên) peri\ to\n dia\ panto\s po/lon tetame/non], as designating "the unattached earth revolving round its own axis," he does violence not less to the text of plato than to the expository comment of aristotle. neither in the one nor the other is anything said about _an axis of the earth_; in both, the cosmical axis is expressly designated; and, if gruppe is right in his interpretation of [greek: ei(lome/nên], we must take plato as affirming, not that the earth is fastened round the cosmical axis, but that it revolves, though unattached, around that axis, which is a proposition both difficult to understand, and leading to none of those astronomical consequences with which gruppe would connect it. again, when gruppe says that [greek: ei(lome/nên peri\] does _not_ mean _packed or fastened round_, but that it _does_ mean _revolving round_, he has both the analogies of the word and the other commentators against him. the main proof, if not the only proof, which he brings, is that aristotle so construed it. upon this point i join issue with him. i maintain that aristotle does _not_ understand [greek: ei(lome/nên] or [greek: i)llome/nên peri\] as naturally meaning _revolving round_, and that he does understand the phrase as meaning _fastened round_. when we find him, in the second passage of the treatise de coelo, not satisfied with the verb [greek: i)/llesthai] alone, but adding to it the second verb [greek: _kai\ kinei=sthai_], we may be sure that he did not consider [greek: i)/llesthai] as naturally and properly denoting _to revolve_ or _move round_. agreeing as i do with gruppe in his view, that the interpretation put by aristotle is the best evidence which we can follow in determining the meaning of this passage in the timæus, i contend that the authority of aristotle contradicts instead of justifying the conclusion at which he arrives. aristotle understands [greek: i)llome/nên] as meaning _packed or fastened round_; he does not understand it as meaning, when taken by itself, _revolving round_. the two meanings here indicated are undoubtedly distinct and independent. but they are not for that reason contradictory and incompatible. it has been the mistake of critics to conceive them as thus incompatible; so that if one of the two were admitted, the other must be rejected. i have endeavoured to show that this is not universally true, and that there are certain circumstances in which the two meanings not only may come together, but must come together. such is the case when we revert to plato's conception of the cosmical axis as a solid revolving cylinder. that which is packed or fastened around the cylinder must revolve around it, and along with it. both m. boeckh and gruppe assume the incompatibility of the two meanings; and we find the same assumption in plutarch's criticisms on the timæus (plutarch. quæst. platon. p. c), where he discusses what plato means by [greek: o)/rgana chro/nou]; and in what sense the earth as well as the moon can be reckoned as [greek: o)/rganon chro/nou] (timæus, p. e, d). plutarch inquires how it is possible that the earth, if stationary and at rest, can be characterised as "among the instruments of time;" and he explains it by saying that this is true in the same sense as we call a gnomon or sun-dial an instrument of time, because, though itself never moves, it marks the successive movements of the shadow. this explanation might be admissible for the phrase [greek: o)/rganon chro/nou]; but i cannot think that the immobility of the earth can be made compatible with the attribute which plato bestows upon it of being [greek: phu/lax kai\ _dêmiourgo\s_ nukto\s te kai\ ê(me/ras]. the difficulty, however, vanishes when we understand the function ascribed by plato to the earth as i have endeavoured to elucidate it. the earth not only is not at rest, but cannot be at rest, precisely because it is packed round the solid revolving cosmical axis, and must revolve along with it. the function of the earth, as the first and oldest of intra-kosmic deities, is to uphold and regulate the revolutions of this axis, upon which depend the revolutions of the sidereal sphere or outer shell of the kosmos. it is by virtue of this regulating function (and not by virtue of its rotation) that the earth is the guardian and artificer of night and day. it is not only "an instrument of time," but the most potent and commanding among all instruments of time. what has just been stated is, in my belief, the theory of the platonic timæus, signified in the words of that dialogue, and embodied in the comment of aristotle. the commentators, subsequent to aristotle, so far as we know them, understood the theory in a sense different from what plato intended. i think we may see how this misconception arose. it arose from the great development and elaboration of astronomical theory during the two or three generations immediately succeeding plato. much was added by eudoxus and others, in their theory of concentric spheres: more still by others of whom we read in cicero (academ. ii. .) "hicetas syracusius, ut ait theophrastus, coelum, solem, lunam, stellas, supera denique omnia, stare censet, neque praeter terram rem ullam in mundo moveri: quae cum circum axem se summâ celeritate convertat et torqueat, eadem effici omnia, quae si stante terrâ coelum moveretur. atque hoc etiam platonem in timaeo dicere quidam arbitrantur, sed paullo obscurius." the same doctrine is said to have been held by herakleides of pontus, the contemporary of aristotle, and by others along with him. (simplikius ad aristot. physic. p. --de coelo, p. --plutarch. plac. phil. iii. .) the doctrine of the rotation of the earth here appears along with another doctrine--the immobility of the sidereal sphere and of the celestial bodies. the two are presented together, as correlative portions of one and the same astronomical theory. there are no celestial revolutions, and therefore there is no solid celestial axis. moreover, even aristarchus of samos (who attained to a theory substantially the same as the copernican, with the double movement of the earth, rotation round its own axis, and translation round the sun as a centre) comes within less than a century after plato's death. though the _quidam_ alluded to by cicero looked upon the obscure sentence in plato's timaeus as a dim indication of the theory of hicetas, yet the two agree only in the supposition of a rotation of the earth, and differ essentially in the pervading cosmical conceptions. hicetas states distinctly that which his theory denies, as well as that which it affirms. the negation of the celestial rotations, is in his theory a point of capital and coordinate importance, on which he contradicts both plato and aristotle as well as the apparent evidence of sense. i cannot suppose that this theory can have been proclaimed or known to aristotle when his works were composed: for the celestial revolutions are the keystone of his system, and he could hardly have abstained from combating a doctrine which denied them altogether. in the hands of hicetas (perhaps in those of herakleides, if we may believe what is said about him) astronomy appears treated as a science by itself, with a view "to provide such hypotheses as may save the phenomena" ([greek: sô/zein ta\ phaino/mena], simpl. ad aristot. de coelo, p. , schol. brandis). it becomes detached from those religious, ethical, poetical, teleological, arithmetical decrees or fancies, in which we see it immersed in the platonic timaeus, and even (though somewhat less) in the aristotelian treatise de coelo. hence the meaning of plato, obscurely announced from the beginning, ceased to be understood: the solid revolving axis of the kosmos, assumed without being expressly affirmed in his timaeus, dropped out of sight: the doctrine of the rotation of the earth was presented in a new point of view, as a substitute for the celestial revolutions. but no proper note was taken of this transition. the doctrine of plato was assumed to be the same as that of hicetas. when we read plutarch's criticism (quæst. plat. p. c) upon the word [greek: i)llome/nên], we see that he puts to himself the question thus--"does plato in the timæus conceive the earth as kept together and stationary--or as turning round and revolving, agreeably to the subsequent theory of aristarchus and seleukus?" here we find that plutarch conceives the alternative thus--either the earth does not revolve at all, or it revolves as aristarchus understood it. one or other of these two positions must have been laid down by plato in the timæus.--so we read in plutarch. but the fact is, that plato meant neither the one nor the other. the rotation of the earth round the solid cosmical axis, which he affirms in the timæus--is a phenomenon utterly different from the rotation of the earth as a free body round the imaginary line called its own axis, which was the doctrine of aristarchus. when expositors in plutarch's day, and since his day, enquired whether or not the platonic timæus affirmed the rotation of the earth, they meant to designate the rotation of the earth in the sense of aristarchus, and in the sense in which modern astronomy understands that capital fact. now speaking the language of modern astronomy, i think it certain that the rotation of the earth is _not_ to be found affirmed in the platonic timæus; and i agree with m. boeckh when he says (untersuch. p. ), "granting that aristotle ascribed to plato the doctrine of the rotation of the earth, he at least did not ascribe to him the doctrine as gruppe assumes, and as now understood." as between gruppe--who holds that the platonic timæus affirms the rotation of the earth, and that aristotle ascribes it to him, in our sense of the words--and m. boeckh, who denies this--i stand with the latter for the negative. but when m. boeckh assumes that the only alternative doctrine is the immobility of the earth, and tries to show that this doctrine is proclaimed in the platonic timæus--nay, that no opposite doctrine _can_ be proclaimed, because the discourse expressly announces the rotation of the sidereal heaven in twenty-four hours--i am compelled to dissent from him as to the conclusion, and to deny the cogency of his proof. m. boeckh has hardly asked himself the question, whether there was not some other sense in which plato might have affirmed it in the timæus. i have endeavoured to show that there was another sense; that there are good analogies in plato to justify the belief that he intended to affirm the doctrine in that other sense; and that the comments of aristotle--while thoroughly pertinent, if we thus understand the passage in the timæus--become either irrelevant, dishonest, or absurd, if we construe the passage as signifying either what is maintained by m. boeckh or what is maintained by gruppe. the eminent critics, whose opinions i here controvert, have been apparently misled by the superior astronomical acquirements of the present age, and have too hastily made the intellectual exigencies of their own minds a standard for all other minds, in different ages as well as in different states of cultivation. the question before us is, not what doctrines are scientifically true or scientifically compatible with each other, but what doctrines were affirmed or implied by plato. in interpreting him, we are required to keep our minds independent of subsequent astronomical theories. we must look, first and chiefly, to what is said by plato himself; next, if that be obscure, to the construction and comments of his contemporaries so far as they are before us. in no case is this more essential than in the doctrine of the rotation of the earth, which in the modern mind has risen to its proper rank in scientific importance, and has become connected with collateral consequences and associations foreign to the ideas of the ancient pythagoreans, or plato, or aristotle. unless we disengage ourselves from these more recent associations, we cannot properly understand the doctrine as it stands in the platonic timæus. this doctrine, as i have endeavoured to explain it, leads to an instructive contrast between the cosmical theories of plato (in the timæus) and aristotle. plato conceives the kosmos as one animated and intelligent being or god, composed of body and soul. its body is moved and governed by its soul, which is fixed or rooted in the centre, but stretches to the circumference on all sides, as well as all round the exterior. it has a perpetual movement of circular rotation in the same unchanged place, which is the sort of movement most worthy of a rational and intelligent being. the revolutions of the exterior or sidereal sphere (circle of the same) depend on and are determined by the revolutions of the solid cylinder or axis, which traverses the kosmos in its whole diameter. besides these, there are various interior spheres or circles (circles of the different), which rotate by distinct and variable impulses in a direction opposite to the sidereal sphere. this latter is so much more powerful than they, that it carries them all round with it; yet they make good, to a certain extent, their own special opposite movement, which causes their positions to be ever changing, and the whole system to be complicated. but the grand capital, uniform, overpowering, movement of the kosmos, consists in the revolution of the solid axis, which determines that of the exterior sidereal sphere. the impulse or stimulus to this movement comes from the cosmical soul, which has its root in the centre. just at this point is situated the earth, "the oldest and most venerable of intra-kosmic deities," packed round the centre of the axis, and having for its function to guard and regulate those revolutions of the axis, and through them those of the outer sphere, on which the succession of day and night depends--as well as to nurse mankind. in all this we see that the ruling principle and force of the kosmos ([greek: to\ ê(gemoniko\n tou= ko/smou]) is made to dwell in and emanate from _its centre_. when we come to aristotle, we find that the ruling principle or force of the kosmos is placed, not in its centre, but in its circumference. he recognises no solid revolving axis traversing the whole diameter of the kosmos the interior of the kosmos is occupied by the four elements--earth, water, air, fire--neither of which can revolve except by violence or under the pressure of extraneous force. to each of them rectilinear motion is _natural_; earth moves naturally towards the centre--fire moves naturally towards the circumference, away from the centre. but the peripheral substance of the kosmos is radically distinct from the four elements: rotatory motion in a circle is _natural_ to it, and is the only variety of motion natural to it. that it is moved at all, it owes to a _primum movens immobile_ impelling it: but the two are coeternal, and the motion has neither beginning nor end. that when moved, its motion is rotatory and not rectilinear, it owes to its own nature. it rotates perpetually, through its own nature and inherent virtue, not by constraining pressure communicated from a centre or from a soul. if constraint were required--if there were any contrary tendency to be overcome--the revolving periphery would become fatigued, and would require periods of repose; but, since in revolving it only obeys its own peculiar nature, it persists for ever without knowing fatigue. this peripheral or fifth essence, perpetually revolving, is the divine, venerable, and commanding portion of the kosmos, more grand and honourable than the interior parts or the centre. aristotle lays this down (de coelo, ii. , p. , b. ) in express antithesis to the pythagoreans, who (like plato) considered the centre as the point of grandeur and command, placing fire in the centre for that reason. the earth has no positive cosmical function in aristotle; it occupies the centre because all its parts have a natural movement towards the centre: and it is unmoved because there _must be_ something in the centre which is always stationary, as a contrary or antithesis to the fifth essence or peripheral substance of the kosmos, which is in perpetual rotation by its own immutable nature. i do not here go farther into the exposition of these ancient cosmical theories. i have adverted to aristotle's doctrine only so far as was necessary to elucidate, by contrast, that which i believe to be the meaning of the platonic timæus about the rotation of the earth. london: printed by w. clowes and sons, stamford street, and charing cross. **************************************************************** transcriber's note the text is based on versions made available by the internet archive. for the greek transcriptions the following conventions have been used: ) is for smooth breathing; ( for hard; + for diaeresis; / for acute accent; \ for grave; = for circumflex; | for iota subscript. ch is used for chi, ph for phi, ps for psi, th for theta; ê for eta and ô for omega; u is used for upsilon in all cases. corrections to the text, indicated with ** text correction ti/ma/iô ti/maio chore/ia chorei/a ou)/ranon ou)rano\n tetamenon tetame/non e)ndeiknutai e)ndei/knutai] forge force tima/iô| timai/ô| gegraptai ge/graptai] e(ilei=sthai ei(lei=sthai e)/pi\ e)pi\ a)utê=s au)tê=s a challenge to the johns hopkins university one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe. dedicated to richard a. proctor, esq. "the greatest astronomer of the age." by wm. carpenter, referee for john hampden, esq., in the celebrated scientific wager, in ; author of 'common sense' on astronomy, (london, ;) proctor's planet earth; wallace's wonderful water; the delusion of the day, &c., &c. "upright, downright, straightforward." baltimore: printed and published by the author, no. chew street . twenty-five cents. five copies, postage paid, for one dollar. th edition: th thousand. index. the aeronaut sees for himself. standing water level. surveyors' "allowance." flow of rivers--the nile. lighthouses--cape hatteras. the sea-shore.--"coming up." a trip down chesapeake bay. the model globe useless. the sailor's level charts. the mariners' compass. the southern circumference. circumnavigation of the earth. meridians are straight lines. parallels of latitude--circles. sailing down and underneath. distance round the south. levelness required by man. the "level" of the astronomers. half the globe is cut off, now! no "up" or "down" in nature? the "spherical lodestone." no falsehoods wanted! no proof of "rotundity." a "most complete" failure. the first atlantic cable. earth's "curvature." which end goes down? a "hill of water." characteristics of a globe. horizon--level with the eye. much too small a globe. vanishing point of objects. we are not "fastened on." our "antipodes."--a delusion. horizon a level line. chesapeake bay by night. six months day and night. the "midnight sun." sun moves round the earth. suez canal-- miles--level. the "true level."--a curve. projectiles--firing east or west. bodies thrown upwards. firing in opposite direction. astronomer royal of england. an utterly meaningless theory. professor proctor's cylinder. proctor's false perspective. motion of the clouds. scriptural proof--a plane. the "standing order." more ice in the south. sun's accelerated pace, south. balloons not left behind. the moon's beams are cold. the sun and moon. not earth's shadow at all. rotating and revolving. proctor's big mistake. sun's distance from earth. no true "measuring-rod." sailing "round" a thing. telescopes--"hill of water." the laws of optics--glaisher. "dwelling" upon error. ptolemy's predictions. canal in china-- miles. mr. lockyer's false logic. beggarly alternatives. mr. lockyer's suppositions. north star seen from s. lat. "walls not parallel!" pendulum experiments. "delightful uncertainty." outrageous calculations. j. r. young's navigation. "tumbling over." circumnavigation--south. a disc--not a sphere. earth's "motion" unproven. moon's motion east to west. all on the wrong track. no meridianal "degrees." depression of north star. rivers flowing up-hill? miles in five seconds. miserable makeshifts. what holds the people on. luminous objects. practice against theory. unscientific classification. g. b. airy's "suppositions." astronomers give up theory. school-room "proofs" false. pictorial proof--earth a plane. laws of perspective ignored. "rational suppositions." it is the star that moves. hair-splitting calculation. how "time" is lost or gained. introduction. "parallax," the founder of the zetetic philosophy, is dead; and it now becomes the duty of those, especially, who knew him personally and who labored with him in the cause of truth against error, to begin, anew, the work which is left in their hands. dr. samuel b. rowbotham finished his earthly labours, in england, the country of his birth, december , , at the age of . he was, certainly, one of the most gifted of men: and though his labours as a public lecturer were confined within the limits of the british islands his published work is known all over the world and is destined to live and be republished when books on the now popular system of philosophy will be considered in no other light than as bundles of waste paper. for several years did "parallax" spread a knowledge of the facts which form the basis of his system without the slightest recognition from the newspaper press until, in january, , the people were informed by the "wilts independent" that lectures had been delivered by "a gentleman adopting the name of 'parallax,' to prove modern astronomy unreasonable and contradictory," that "great skill" was shown by the lecturer, and that he proved himself to be "thoroughly acquainted with the subject in all its bearings." such was the beginning--the end will not be so easily described. the truth will always find advocates--men who care not a snap of their fingers for the mere opinion of the world, whatever form it may take, whilst they know that they are the masters of the situation and that reason is king! in , "parallax" was described as "a paragon of courtesy, good temper, and masterly skill in debate." the author of the following hastily-gotten-up pages is proud of having spent many a pleasant hour in the company of samuel birley rowbotham. a complete sketch of the "zetetic philosophy" is impossible in a small pamphlet; and many things necessarily remain unsaid which, perhaps, should have been touched upon, but which would to some extent have interfered with the plan laid down--the bringing together, in a concise form, "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe." much may be gathered, indirectly, from the arguments in these pages, as to the real nature of the earth on which we live and of the heavenly bodies which were created for us. the reader is requested to be patient in this matter and not expect a whole flood of light to burst in upon him at once, through the dense clouds of opposition and prejudice which hang all around. old ideas have to be gotten rid of, by some people, before they can entertain the new; and this will especially be the case in the matter of the sun, about which we are taught, by mr. proctor, as follows: "the globe of the sun is so much larger than that of the earth that no less than , , globes as large as the earth would be wanted to make up together a globe as large as the sun." whereas, we know that, as it is demonstrated that the sun moves round over the earth, its size is proportionately less. we can then easily understand that day and night, and the seasons are brought about by his daily circuits round in a course concentric with the north, diminishing in their extent to the end of june, and increasing until the end of december, the equatorial region being the area covered by the sun's mean motion. if, then, these pages serve but to arouse the spirit of enquiry, the author will be satisfied. the right hand of fellowship in this good work is extended, in turn, to mr. j. lindgren, south first street, brooklyn, e. d., n. y., mr. m. c. flanders, lecturer, kendall, orleans county, n. y., and to mr. john hampden, editor of "parallax" (a new journal), cosmos house, balham, surrey, england. one hundred proofs that earth is not a globe. if man uses the senses which god has given him, he gains knowledge; if he uses them not, he remains ignorant. mr. r. a. proctor, who has been called "the greatest astronomer of the age," says: "the earth on which we live and move seems to be flat." now, he does not mean that it seems to be flat to the man who shuts his eyes in the face of nature, or, who is not in the full possession of his senses: no, but to the average, common sense, wide-awake, thinking man. he continues: "that is, though there are hills and valleys on its surface, yet it seems to extend on all sides in one and the same general level." again, he says: "there seems nothing to prevent us from travelling as far as we please in any direction towards the circle all round us, called the horizon, where the sky seems to meet the level of the earth." "the level of the earth!" mr. proctor knows right well what he is talking about, for the book from which we take his words, "lessons in elementary astronomy," was written, he tells us, "to guard the beginner against the captious objections which have from time to time been urged against accepted astronomical theories." the things which are to be defended, then, are these "accepted astronomical theories!" it is not truth that is to be defended against the assaults of error--oh, no: simply "theories," right or wrong, because they have been "accepted!" accepted! why, they have been accepted because it was not thought to be worth while to look at them. sir john herschel says: "we shall take for granted, from the outset, the copernican system of the world." he did not care whether it was the right system or a wrong one, or he would not have done that: he would have looked into it. but, forsooth, the theories are accepted, and, of course, the men who have accepted them are the men who will naturally defend them if they can. so, richard a. proctor tries his hand; and we shall see how it fails him. his book was published without any date to it at all. but there is internal evidence which will fix that matter closely enough. we read of the carrying out of the experiments of the celebrated scientist, alfred r. wallace, to prove the "convexity" of the surface of standing water, which experiments were conducted in march, , for the purpose of winning five hundred pounds from john hampden, esq., of swindon, england, who had wagered that sum upon the conviction that the said surface is always a level one. mr. proctor says: "the experiment was lately tried in a very amusing way." in or about the year , then, mr. proctor wrote his book; and, instead of being ignorant of the details of the experiment, he knew all about them. and whether the "amusing" part of the business was the fact that mr. wallace wrongfully claimed the five-hundred pounds and got it, or that mr. hampden was the victim of the false claim, it is hard to say. the "way" in which the experiment was carried out is, to all intents and purposes, just the way in which mr. proctor states that it "can be tried." he says, however, that the distance involved in the experiment "should be three or four miles." now, mr. wallace took up six miles in his experiment, and was unable to prove that there is any "curvature," though he claimed the money and got it; surely it would be "amusing" for anyone to expect to be able to show the "curvature of the earth" in three or four miles, as mr. proctor suggests! nay, it is ridiculous. but "the greatest astronomer of the age" says the thing can be done! and he gives a diagram: "showing how the roundness of the earth can be proved by means of three boats on a large sheet of water." (three or four miles.) but, though the accepted astronomical theories be scattered to the winds, we charge mr. proctor either that he has never made the experiment with the three boats, or, that, if he has, the experiment did not prove what he says it will. accepted theories, indeed! are they to be bolstered up with absurdity and falsehood? why, if it were possible to show the two ends of a four-mile stretch of water to be on a level, with the centre portion of that water bulged up, the surface of the earth would be a series of four-mile curves! but mr. proctor says: "we can set three boats in a line on the water, as at a, b, and c, (fig. ). then, if equal masts are placed in these boats, and we place a telescope, as shown, so that when we look through it we see the tops of the masts of a and c, we find the top of the mast b is above the line of sight." now, here is the point: mr. proctor either knows or he ought to know that we shall not find anything of the sort! if he has ever tried the experiment, he knows that the three masts will range in a straight line, just as common sense tells us they will. if he has not tried the experiment, he should have tried it, or have paid attention to the details of experiments by those who have tried similar ones a score of times and again. mr. proctor may take either horn of the dilemma he pleases: he is just as wrong as a man can be, either way. he mentions no names, but he says: "a person had written a book, in which he said that he had tried such an experiment as the above, and had found that the surface of the water was not curved." that person was "parallax," the founder of the zetetic philosophy. he continues: "another person seems to have believed the first, and became so certain that the earth is flat as to wager a large sum of money that if three boats were placed as in fig. , the middle one would not be above the line joining the two others." that person was john hampden. and, says mr. proctor, "unfortunately for him, some one who had more sense agreed to take his wager, and, of course, won his money." now, the "some one who had more sense" was mr. wallace. and, says proctor, in continuation: "he [hampden?] was rather angry; and it is a strange thing that he was not angry with himself for being so foolish, or with the person who said he had tried the experiment (and so led him astray), but with the person who had won his money!" here, then, we see that mr. proctor knows better than to say that the experiments conducted by "parallax" were things of the imagination only, or that a wrong account had been given of them; and it would be well if he knew better than to try to make his readers believe that either one or the other of these things is the fact: but, there is the old bedford canal now; and there are ten thousand places where the experiment may be tried! who, then, are the "foolish" people: those who "believe" the record of experiments made by searchers after truth, or those who shut their eyes to them, throw a doubt upon the record, charge the conductors of the experiments with dishonesty, never conduct similar experiments themselves, and declare the result of such experiments to be so and so, when the declaration can be proved to be false by any man, with a telescope, in twenty-four hours? mr. proctor:--the sphericity of the earth cannot be proved in the way in which you tell us it "can" be! we tell you to take back your words and remodel them on the basis of truth. such careless misrepresentations of facts are a disgrace to science--they are the disgrace of theoretical science to-day! mr. blackie, in his work on "self culture," says: "all flimsy, shallow, and superficial work, in fact, is a lie, of which a man ought to be ashamed." that the earth is an extended plane, stretched out in all directions away from the central north, over which hangs, for ever, the north star, is a fact which all the falsehoods that can be brought to bear upon it with their dead weight will never overthrow: it is god's truth the face of which, however, man has the power to smirch all over with his unclean hands. mr. proctor says: "we learn from astronomy that all these ideas, natural though they seem, are mistaken." man's natural ideas and conclusions and experimental results are, then, to be overthrown by--what! by "astronomy?" by a thing without a soul--a mere theoretical abstraction, the outcome of the dreamer? never! the greatest astronomer of the age is not the man, even, who can so much as attempt to manage the business. "we find," says mr. proctor, "that the earth is not flat, but a globe; not fixed, but in very rapid motion; not much larger than the moon, and far smaller than the sun and the greater number of the stars." first, then, mr. proctor, tell us how you find that the earth is not flat, but a globe! it does not matter that "we find" it so put down in that conglomeration of suppositions which you seek to defend: the question is, what is the evidence of it?--where can it be obtained? "the earth on which we live and move seems to be flat," you tell us: where, then, is the mistake? if the earth seem to be what it is not, how are we to trust our senses? and if it is said that we cannot do so, are we to believe it, and consent to be put down lower than the brutes? no, sir: we challenge you, as we have done many times before, to produce the slightest evidence of the earth's rotundity, from the world of facts around you. you have given to us the statement we have quoted, and we have the right to demand a proof; and if this is not forthcoming, we have before us the duty of denouncing the absurd dogma as worse than an absurdity--as a fraud--and as a fraud that flies in the face of divine revelation! well, then, mr. proctor, in demanding a proof of the earth's rotundity (or the frank admission of your errors), we are tempted to taunt you as we tell you that it is utterly out of your power to produce one; and we tell you that you do not dare even to lift up your finger to point us to the so-called proofs in the school-books of the day, for you know the measure of absurdity of which they are composed, and how disgraceful it is to allow them to remain as false guides of the youthful mind! mr. proctor: we charge you that, whilst you teach the theory of the earth's rotundity and mobility, you know that it is a plane; and here is the ground of the charge. in page , in your book, you give a diagram of the "surface on which we live," and the "supposed globe"--the supposed "hollow globe"--of the heavens, arched over the said surface. now, mr. proctor, you picture the surface on which we live in exact accordance with your verbal description. and what is that description? we shall scarcely be believed when we say that we give it just as it stands: "the level of the surface on which we live." and, that there may be no mistake about the meaning of the word "level," we remind you that your diagram proves that the level that you mean is the level of the mechanic, a plane surface, and not the "level" of the astronomer, which is a convex surface! in short, your description of the earth is exactly what you say it "seems to be," and, yet, what you say it is not: the very aim of your book being to say so! and we call this the prostitution of the printing press. and it is all the evidence that is necessary to bring the charge home to you, since the words and the diagram are in page of your own book. you know, then, that earth is a plane--and so do we. now for the evidence of this grand fact, that other people may know it as well as you: remembering, from first to last, that you have not dared to bring forward a single item from the mass of evidence which is to be found in the "zetetic philosophy," by "parallax," a work the influence of which it was the avowed object of your own book to crush!--except that of the three boats, an experiment which you have never tried, and the result of which has never been known, by anyone who has tried it, to be as you say it is! . the aeronaut can see for himself that earth is a plane. the appearance presented to him, even at the highest elevation he has ever attained, is that of a concave surface--this being exactly what is to be expected of a surface that is truly level, since it is the nature of level surfaces to appear to rise to a level with the eye of the observer. this is ocular demonstration and proof that earth is not a globe. . whenever experiments have been tried on the surface of standing water, this surface has always been found to be level. if the earth were a globe, the surface of all standing water would be convex. this is an experimental proof that earth is not a globe, . surveyors' operations in the construction of railroads, tunnels, or canals are conducted without the slightest "allowance" being made for "curvature," although it is taught that this so-called allowance is absolutely necessary! this is a cutting proof that earth is not a globe. . there are rivers that flow for hundreds of miles towards the level of the sea without falling more than a few feet--notably, the nile, which, in a thousand miles, falls but a foot. a level expanse of this extent is quite incompatible with the idea of the earth's "convexity." it is, therefore, a reasonable proof that earth is not a globe. . the lights which are exhibited in lighthouses are seen by navigators at distances at which, according to the scale of the supposed "curvature" given by astronomers, they ought to be many hundreds of feet, in some cases, down below the line of sight! for instance: the light at cape hatteras is seen at such a distance ( miles) that, according to theory, it ought to be nine-hundred feet higher above the level of the sea than it absolutely is, in order to be visible! this is a conclusive proof that there is no "curvature," on the surface of the sea--"the level of the sea,"--ridiculous though it is to be under the necessity of proving it at all: but it is, nevertheless, a conclusive proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we stand on the sands of the sea-shore and watch a ship approach us, we shall find that she will apparently "rise"--to the extent of her own height, nothing more. if we stand upon an eminence, the same law operates still; and it is but the law of perspective, which causes objects, as they approach us, to appear to increase in size until we see them, close to us, the size they are in fact. that there is no other "rise" than the one spoken of is plain from the fact that, no matter how high we ascend above the level of the sea, the horizon rises on and still on as we rise, so that it is always on a level with the eye, though it be two-hundred miles away, as seen by mr. j. glaisher, of england, from mr. coxwell's balloon. so that a ship five miles away may be imagined to be "coming up" the imaginary downward curve of the earth's surface, but if we merely ascend a hill such as federal hill, baltimore, we may see twenty-five miles away, on a level with the eye--that is, twenty miles level distance beyond the ship that we vainly imagined to be "rounding the curve," and "coming up!" this is a plain proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we take a trip down the chesapeake bay, in the day-time, we may see for ourselves the utter fallacy of the idea that when a vessel appears "hull down," as it is called, it is because the hull is "behind the water:" for, vessels have been seen, and may often be seen again, presenting the appearance spoken of, and away--far away--beyond those vessels, and, at the same moment, the level shore line, with its accompanying complement of tall trees, towering up, in perspective, over the heads of the "hull-down" ships! since, then, the idea will not stand its ground when the facts rise up against it, and it is a piece of the popular theory, the theory is a contemptible piece of business, and we may easily wring from it a proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, a small model globe would be the very best--because the truest--thing for the navigator to take to sea with him. but such a thing as that is not known: with such a toy as a guide, the mariner would wreck his ship, of a certainty! this is a proof that earth is not a globe. . as mariners take to sea with them charts constructed as though the sea were a level surface, however these charts may err as to the true form of this level surface taken as a whole, it is clear, as they find them answer their purpose tolerably well--and only tolerably well, for many ships are wrecked owing to the error of which we speak--that the surface of the sea is as it is taken to be, whether the captain of the ship "supposes" the earth to be a globe or anything else. thus, then, we draw, from the common system of "plane sailing," a practical proof that earth is not a globe. . that the mariners' compass points north and south at the same time is a fact as indisputable as that two and two makes four; but that this would be impossible if the thing were placed on a globe with "north" and "south" at the centre of opposite hemispheres is a fact that does not figure in the school-books, though very easily seen: and it requires no lengthy train of reasoning to bring out of it a pointed proof that the earth is not a globe. . as the mariners' compass points north and south at one time, and as the north, to which it is attracted, is that part of the earth situate where the north star is in the zenith, it follows that there is no south "point" or "pole" but that, while the centre is north, a vast circumference must be south in its whole extent. this is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . as we have seen that there is, really, no south point (or pole) but an infinity of points forming, together, a vast circumference--the boundary of the known world, with its battlements of icebergs which bid defiance to man's onward course in a southerly direction--so there can be no east or west "points," just as there is no "yesterday," and no "to-morrow." in fact, as there is one point that is fixed (the north), it is impossible for any other point to be fixed likewise. east and west are, therefore, merely directions at right angles with a north and south line: and as the south point of the compass shifts round to all parts of the circular boundary, (as it may be carried round the central north), so the directions east and west, crossing this line, continued, form a circle, at any latitude. a westerly circumnavigation, therefore, is a going round with the north star continually on the right hand, and an easterly circumnavigation is performed only when the reverse condition of things is maintained, the north star being on the left hand as the journey is made. these facts, taken together, form a beautiful proof that the earth is not a globe. . as the mariners' compass points north and south at one and the same time, and a meridian is a north and south line, it follows that meridians can be no other than straight lines. but, since all meridians on a globe are semicircles, it is an incontrovertible proof that the earth is not a globe. . "parallels of latitude" only--of all imaginary lines on the surface of the earth--are circles, which increase, progressively, from the northern centre to the southern circumference. the mariner's course in the direction of any one of these concentric circles is his longitude, the degrees of which increase to such an extent beyond the equator (going southwards) that hundreds of vessels have been wrecked because of the false idea created by the untruthfulness of the charts and the globular theory together, causing the sailor to be continually getting out of his reckoning. with a map of the earth in its true form all difficulty is done away with, and ships may be conducted anywhere with perfect safety. this, then, is a very important practical proof that the earth is not a globe. . the idea that, instead of sailing horizontally round the earth, ships are taken down one side of a globe, then underneath, and are brought up on the other side to get home again, is, except as a mere dream, impossible and absurd! and, since there are neither impossibilities nor absurdities in the simple matter of circumnavigation, it stands, without argument, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, the distance round its surface at, say, "degrees" south latitude, could not possibly be any greater than it is at the same latitude north; but, since it is found by navigators to be twice the distance--to say the least of it--or, double the distance it ought to be according to the globular theory, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . human beings require a surface on which to live that, in its general character, shall be level; and since the omniscient creator must have been perfectly acquainted with the requirements of his creatures, it follows that, being an all-wise creator, he has met them thoroughly. this is a theological proof that the earth is not a globe. . the best possessions of man are his senses; and, when he uses them all, he will not be deceived in his survey of nature. it is only when some one faculty or other is neglected or abused that he is deluded. every man in full command of his senses knows that a level surface is a flat or horizontal one; but astronomers tell us that the true level is the curved surface of a globe! they know that man requires a level surface on which to live, so they give him one in name which is not one in fact! since this is the best that astronomers, with their theoretical science, can do for their fellow creatures--deceive them--it is clear that things are not as they say they are; and, in short, it is a proof that earth is not a globe. . every man in his senses goes the most reasonable way to work to do a thing. now, astronomers (one after another--following a leader), while they are telling us that earth is a globe, are cutting off the upper half of this supposititious globe in their books, and, in this way, forming the level surface on which they describe man as living and moving! now, if the earth were really a globe, this would be just the most unreasonable and suicidal mode of endeavoring to show it. so that, unless theoretical astronomers are all out of their senses together, it is, clearly, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the common sense of man tells him--if nothing else told him--that there is an "up" and a "down" in nature, even as regards the heavens and the earth; but the theory of modern astronomers necessitates the conclusion that there is not: therefore, the theory of the astronomers is opposed to common sense--yes, and to inspiration--and this is a common sense proof that the earth is not a globe. . man's experience tells him that he is not constructed like the flies that can live and move upon the ceiling of a room with as much safety as on the floor: and since the modern theory of a planetary earth necessitates a crowd of theories to keep company with it, and one of them is that men are really bound to the earth by a force which fastens them to it "like needles round a spherical lodestone," a theory perfectly outrageous and opposed to all human experience, it follows that, unless we can trample upon common sense and ignore the teachings of experience, we have an evident proof that the earth is not a globe. . god's truth never--no, never--requires a falsehood to help it along. mr. proctor, in his "lessons," says: men "have been able to go round and round the earth in several directions." now, in this case, the word "several" will imply more than two, unquestionably: whereas, it is utterly impossible to circumnavigate the earth in any other than an easterly or a westerly direction; and the fact is perfectly consistent and clear in its relation to earth as a plane. now, since astronomers would not be so foolish as to damage a good cause by misrepresentation, it is presumptive evidence that their cause is a bad one, and--a proof that earth is not a globe. . if astronomical works be searched through and through, there will not be found a single instance of a bold, unhesitating, or manly statement respecting a proof of the earth's "rotundity." proctor speaks of "proofs which serve to show ... that the earth is not flat," and says that man "finds reason to think that the earth is not flat," and speaks of certain matters being "explained by supposing" that the earth is a globe; and says that people have "assured themselves that it is a globe;" but he says, also, that there is a "most complete proof that the earth is a globe:" just as though anything in the world could possibly be wanted but a proof--a proof that proves and settles the whole question. this, however, all the money in the united states treasury would not buy; and, unless the astronomers are all so rich that they don't want the cash, it is a sterling proof that the earth is not a globe. . when a man speaks of a "most complete" thing amongst several other things which claim to be what that thing is, it is evident that they must fall short of something which the "most complete" thing possesses. and when it is known that the "most complete" thing is an entire failure, it is plain that the others, all and sundry, are worthless. proctor's "most complete proof that the earth is a globe" lies in what he calls "the fact" that distances from place to place agree with calculation. but, since the distance round the earth at "degrees" south of the equator is twice the distance it would be on a globe, it follows that what the greatest astronomer of the age calls "a fact" is not a fact; that his "most complete proof" is a most complete failure; and that he might as well have told us, at once, that he has no proof to give us at all. now, since, if the earth be a globe, there would, necessarily, be piles of proofs of it all round us, it follows that when astronomers, with all their ingenuity, are utterly unable to point one out--to say nothing about picking one up--that they give us a proof that earth is not a globe. . the surveyor's plans in relation to the laying of the first atlantic telegraph cable, show that in miles--from valentia, ireland, to st. john's, newfoundland--the surface of the atlantic ocean is a level surface--not the astronomers' "level," either! the authoritative drawings, published at the time, are a standing evidence of the fact, and form a practical proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, it would, if we take valentia to be the place of departure, curvate downwards, in the miles across the atlantic to newfoundland, according to the astronomers' own tables, more than three-hundred miles; but, as the surface of the atlantic does not do so--the fact of its levelness having been clearly demonstrated by telegraph cable surveyors,--it follows that we have a grand proof that earth is not a globe. . astronomers, in their consideration of the supposed "curvature" of the earth, have carefully avoided the taking of that view of the question which--if anything were needed to do so--would show its utter absurdity. it is this:--if, instead of taking our ideal point of departure to be at valentia, we consider ourselves at st. john's, the miles of water between us and valentia would just as well "curvate" downwards as it did in the other case! now, since the direction in which the earth is said to "curvate" is interchangeable--depending, indeed, upon the position occupied by a man upon its surface--the thing is utterly absurd; and it follows that the theory is an outrage, and that the earth does not "curvate" at all:--an evident proof that the earth is not a globe. . astronomers are in the habit of considering two points on the earth's surface, without, it seems, any limit as to the distance that lies between them, as being on a level, and the intervening section, even though it be an ocean, as a vast "hill"--of water! the atlantic ocean, in taking this view of the matter, would form a "hill of water" more than a hundred miles high! the idea is simply monstrous, and could only be entertained by scientists whose whole business is made up of materials of the same description: and it certainly requires no argument to deduce, from such "science" as this, a satisfactory proof that the earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, it would, unquestionably, have the same general characteristics--no matter its size--as a small globe that may be stood upon the table. as the small globe has top, bottom, and sides, so must also the large one--no matter how large it be. but, as the earth, which is "supposed" to be a large globe, has no sides or bottom as the small globe has, the conclusion is irresistible that it is a proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, an observer who should ascend above its surface would have to look downwards at the horizon (if it be possible to conceive of a horizon at all under such circumstances) even as astronomical diagrams indicate--at angles varying from ten to nearly fifty degrees below the "horizontal" line of sight! (it is just as absurd as it would be to be taught that when we look at a man full in the face we are looking down at his feet!) but, as no observer in the clouds, or upon any eminence on the earth, has ever had to do so, it follows that the diagrams spoken of are imaginary and false; that the theory which requires such things to prop it up is equally airy and untrue; and that we have a substantial proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, it would certainly have to be as large as it is said to be--twenty-five thousand miles in circumference. now, the thing which is called a "proof" of the earth's roundness, and which is presented to children at school, is, that if we stand on the sea-shore we may see the ships, as they approach us, absolutely "coming up," and that, as we are able to see the highest parts of these ships first, it is because the lower parts are "behind the earth's curve." now, since, if this were the case--that is, if the lower parts of these ships were behind a "hill of water" at all--the size of the earth, indicated by such a curve as this, would be so small that it would only be big enough to hold the people of a parish, if they could get all round it, instead of the nations of the world, it follows that the idea is preposterous; that the appearance is due to another and to some reasonable cause; and that, instead of being a proof of the globular form of the earth, it is a proof that earth is not a globe. . it is often said that, if the earth were flat, we could see all over it! this is the result of ignorance. if we stand on the level surface of a plain or a prairie, and take notice, we shall find that the horizon is formed at about three miles all around us: that is, the ground appears to rise up until, at that distance, it seems on a level with the eye-line or line of sight. consequently, objects no higher than we stand--say, six feet--and which are at that distance (three miles), have reached the "vanishing point," and are beyond the sphere of our unaided vision. this is the reason why the hull of a ship disappears (in going away from us) before the sails; and, instead of there being about it the faintest shadow of evidence of the earth's rotundity, it is a clear proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, people--except those on the top--would, certainly, have to be "fastened" to its surface by some means or other, whether by the "attraction" of astronomers or by some other undiscovered and undiscoverable process! but, as we know that we simply walk on its surface without any other aid than that which is necessary for locomotion on a plane, it follows that we have, herein, a conclusive proof that earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, there certainly would be--if we could imagine the thing to be peopled all round--"antipodes:" "people who," says the dictionary, "living exactly on the opposite side of the globe to ourselves, have their feet opposite to ours:"--people who are hanging heads downwards whilst we are standing heads up! but, since the theory allows us to travel to those parts of the earth where the people are said to be heads downwards, and still to fancy ourselves to be heads upwards and our friends whom we have left behind us to be heads downwards, it follows that the whole thing is a myth--a dream--a delusion--and a snare; and, instead of there being any evidence at all in this direction to substantiate the popular theory, it is a plain proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we examine a true picture of the distant horizon, or the thing itself, we shall find that it coincides exactly with a perfectly straight and level line. now, since there could be nothing of the kind on a globe, and we find it to be the case all over the earth, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we take a journey down the chesapeake bay, by night, we shall see the "light" exhibited at sharpe's island for an hour before the steamer gets to it. we may take up a position on the deck so that the rail of the vessel's side will be in a line with the "light" and in the line of sight; and we shall find that in the whole journey the light will not vary in the slightest degree in its apparent elevation. but, say that a distance of thirteen miles has been traversed, the astronomers' theory of "curvature" demands a difference (one way or the other!) in the apparent elevation of the light, of feet inches! since, however, there is not a difference of hair's breadths, we have a plain proof that the water of the chesapeake bay is not curved, which is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, there would, very likely, be (for nobody knows) six months day and six months night at the arctic and antarctic regions, as astronomers dare to assert there is:--for their theory demands it! but, as this fact--the six months day and six months night--is nowhere found but in the arctic regions, it agrees perfectly with everything else that we know about the earth as a plane, and, whilst it overthrows the "accepted theory," it furnishes a striking proof that earth is not a globe. . when the sun crosses the equator, in march, and begins to circle round the heavens in north latitude, the inhabitants of high northern latitudes see him skimming round their horizon and forming the break of their long day, in a horizontal course, not disappearing again for six months, as he rises higher and higher in the heavens whilst he makes his twenty-four hour circle until june, when he begins to descend and goes on until he disappears beyond the horizon in september. thus, in the northern regions, they have that which the traveller calls the "midnight sun," as he sees that luminary at a time when, in his more southern latitude, it is always midnight. if, then, for one-half the year, we may see for ourselves the sun making horizontal circles round the heavens, it is presumptive evidence that, for the other half-year, he is doing the same, although beyond the boundary of our vision. this, being a proof that earth is a plane, is, therefore, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . we have abundance of evidence that the sun moves daily round and over the earth in circles concentric with the northern region over which hangs the north star; but, since the theory of the earth being a globe is necessarily connected with the theory of its motion round the sun in a yearly orbit, it falls to the ground when we bring forward the evidence of which we speak, and, in so doing, forms a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the suez canal, which joins the red sea with the mediterranean, is about one hundred miles long; it forms a straight and level surface of water from one end to the other; and no "allowance" for any supposed "curvature" was made in its construction. it is a clear proof that the earth is not a globe. . when astronomers assert that it is "necessary" to make "allowance for curvature" in canal construction, it is, of course, in order that, in their idea, a level cutting may be had for the water. how flagrantly, then, do they contradict themselves when they say that the curved surface of the earth is a "true level!" what more can they want for a canal than a true level? since they contradict themselves in such an elementary point as this, it is an evidence that the whole thing is a delusion, and we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is certain that the theory of the earth's rotundity and that of its mobility must stand or fall together. a proof, then, of its immobility is virtually a proof of its non-rotundity. now, that the earth does not move, either on an axis, or in an orbit round the sun or anything else, is easily proven. if the earth went through space at the rate of eleven-hundred miles in a minute of time, as astronomers teach us, in a particular direction, there would unquestionably be a difference in the result of firing off a projectile in that direction and in a direction the opposite of that one. but as, in fact, there is not the slightest difference in any such case, it is clear that any alleged motion of the earth is disproved, and that, therefore, we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the circumstances which attend bodies which are caused merely to fall from a great height prove nothing as to the motion or stability of the earth, since the object, if it be on a thing that is in motion, will participate in that motion; but, if an object be thrown upwards from a body at rest, and, again, from a body in motion, the circumstances attending its descent will be very different. in the former case, it will fall, if thrown vertically upwards, at the place from whence it was projected; in the latter case, it will fall behind--the moving body from which it is thrown will leave it in the rear. now, fix a gun, muzzle upwards, accurately, in the ground; fire off a projectile; and it will fall by the gun. if the earth travelled eleven-hundred miles a minute, the projectile would fall behind the gun, in the opposite direction to that of the supposed motion. since, then, this is not the case, in fact, the earth's fancied motion is negatived, and we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is in evidence that, if a projectile be fired from a rapidly moving body in an opposite direction to that in which the body is going, it will fall short of the distance at which it would reach the ground if fired in the direction of motion. now, since the earth is said to move at the rate of nineteen miles in a second of time, "from west to east," it would make all the difference imaginable if the gun were fired in an opposite direction. but, as, in practice, there is not the slightest difference, whichever way the thing may be done, we have a forcible overthrow of all fancies relative to the motion of the earth, and a striking proof that the earth is not a globe. . the astronomer royal, of england, george b. airy, in his celebrated work on astronomy, the "ipswich lectures," says: "jupiter is a large planet that turns on his axis, and why do not we turn?" of course, the common sense reply is: because the earth is not a planet! when, therefore, an astronomer royal puts words into our mouth wherewith we may overthrow the supposed planetary nature of the earth, we have not far to go to pick up a proof that earth is not a globe. . it has been shown that an easterly or a westerly motion is necessarily a circular course round the central north. the only north point or centre of motion of the heavenly bodies known to man is that formed by the north star, which is over the central portion of the outstretched earth. when, therefore, astronomers tell us of a planet taking a westerly course round the sun, the thing is as meaningless to them as it is to us, unless they make the sun the northern centre of the motion, which they cannot do! since, then, the motion which they tell us the planets have is, on the face of it, absurd; and since, as a matter of fact, the earth can have no absurd motion at all, it is clear that it cannot be what astronomers say it is--a planet; and, if not a planet, it is a proof that earth is not a globe. . in consequence of the fact being so plainly seen, by everyone who visits the sea-shore, that the line of the horizon is a perfectly straight line, it becomes impossible for astronomers, when they attempt to convey, pictorially, an idea of the earth's "convexity," to do so with even a shadow of consistency: for they dare not represent this horizon as a curved line, so well known is it that it is a straight one! the greatest astronomer of the age, in page of his "lessons," gives an illustration of a ship sailing away, "as though she were rounding the top of a great hill of water;" and there--of a truth--is the straight and level line of the horizon clear along the top of the "hill" from one side of the picture to the other! now, if this picture were true in all its parts--and it is outrageously false in several--it would show that earth is a cylinder; for the "hill" shown is simply up one side of the level, horizontal line, and, we are led to suppose, down the other! since, then, we have such high authority as professor richard a. proctor that the earth is a cylinder, it is, certainly, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . in mr. proctor's "lessons in astronomy," page , a ship is represented as sailing away from the observer, and it is given in five positions or distances away on its journey. now, in its first position, its mast appears above the horizon, and, consequently, higher than the observer's line of vision. but, in its second and third positions, representing the ship as further and further away, it is drawn higher and still higher up above the line of the horizon! now, it is utterly impossible for a ship to sail away from an observer, under the conditions indicated, and to appear as given in the picture. consequently, the picture is a misrepresentation, a fraud, and a disgrace. a ship starting to sail away from an observer with her masts above his line of sight would appear, indisputably, to go down and still lower down towards the horizon line, and could not possibly appear--to anyone with his vision undistorted--as going in any other direction, curved or straight. since, then, the design of the astronomer-artist is to show the earth to be a globe, and the points in the picture, which would only prove the earth to be cylindrical if true, are not true, it follows that the astronomer-artist fails to prove, pictorially, either that the earth is a globe or a cylinder, and that we have, therefore, a reasonable proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is a well-known fact that clouds are continually seen moving in all manner of directions--yes, and frequently, in different directions at the same time--from west to east being as frequent a direction as any other. now, if the earth were a globe, revolving through space from west to east at the rate of nineteen miles in a second, the clouds appearing to us to move towards the east would have to move quicker than nineteen miles in a second to be thus seen; whilst those which appear to be moving in the opposite direction would have no necessity to be moving at all, since the motion of the earth would be more than sufficient to cause the appearance. but it only takes a little common sense to show us that it is the clouds that move just as they appear to do, and that, therefore, the earth is motionless. we have, then, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . we read in the inspired book, or collection of books, called the bible, nothing at all about the earth being a globe or a planet, from beginning to end, but hundreds of allusions there are in its pages which could not be made if the earth were a globe, and which are, therefore, said by the astronomer to be absurd and contrary to what he knows to be true! this is the groundwork of modern infidelity. but, since every one of many, many allusions to the earth and the heavenly bodies in the scriptures can be demonstrated to be absolutely true to nature, and we read of the earth being "stretched out" "above the waters," as "standing in the water and out of the water," of its being "established that it cannot be moved," we have a store from which to take all the proofs we need, but we will just put down one proof--the scriptural proof--that earth is not a globe. . a "standing order" exists in the english houses of parliament that, in the cutting of canals, &c., the datum line employed shall be a "horizontal line, which shall be the same throughout the whole length of the work." now, if the earth were a globe, this "order" could not be carried out: but, it is carried out: therefore, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is a well-known and indisputable fact that there is a far greater accumulation of ice south of the equator than is to be found at an equal latitude north: and it is said that at kerguelen, degrees south, kinds of plants exist, whilst, in iceland, degrees nearer the northern centre, there are species; and, indeed, all the facts in the case show that the sun's power is less intense at places in the southern region than it is in corresponding latitudes north. now, on the newtonian hypothesis, all this is inexplicable, whilst it is strictly in accordance with the facts brought to light by the carrying out of the principles involved in the zetetic philosophy of "parallax." this is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . every year the sun is as long south of the equator as he is north; and if the earth were not "stretched out" as it is, in fact, but turned under, as the newtonian theory suggests, it would certainly get as intensive a share of the sun's rays south as north; but the southern region being, in consequence of the fact stated, far more extensive than the region north, the sun, having to complete his journey round every twenty-four hours, travels quicker as he goes further south, from september to december, and his influence has less time in which to accumulate at any given point. since, then, the facts could not be as they are if the earth were a globe, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the aeronaut is able to start in his balloon and remain for hours in the air, at an elevation of several miles, and come down again in the same county or parish from which he ascended. now, unless the earth drag the balloon along with it in its nineteen-miles-a-second motion, it must be left far behind, in space: but, since balloons have never been known thus to be left, it is a proof that the earth, does not move, and, therefore, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the newtonian theory of astronomy requires that the moon "borrow" her light from the sun. now, since the sun's rays are hot and the moon's light sends with it no heat at all, it follows that the sun and moon are "two great lights," as we somewhere read; that the newtonian theory is a mistake; and that, therefore, we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the sun and moon may often be seen high in the heavens at the same time--the sun rising in the east and the moon setting in the west--the sun's light positively putting the moon's light out by sheer contrast! if the accepted newtonian theory were correct, and the moon had her light from the sun, she ought to be getting more of it when face to face with that luminary--if it were possible for a sphere to act as a reflector all over its face! but as the moon's light pales before the rising sun, it is a proof that the theory fails; and this gives us a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the newtonian hypothesis involves the necessity of the sun, in the case of a lunar eclipse, being on the opposite side of a globular earth, to cast its shadow on the moon: but, since eclipses of the moon have taken place with both the sun and the moon above the horizon, it follows that it cannot be the shadow of the earth that eclipses the moon; that the theory is a blunder; and that it is nothing less than a proof that the earth is not a globe. . astronomers have never agreed amongst themselves about a rotating moon revolving round a rotating and revolving earth--this earth, moon, planets and their satellites all, at the same time dashing through space, around the rotating and revolving sun, towards the constellation hercules, at the rate of four millions of miles a day! and they never will: agreement is impossible! with the earth a plane and without motion, the whole thing is clear. and if a straw will show which way the wind blows, this may be taken as a pretty strong proof that the earth is not a globe. . mr. proctor says: "the sun is so far off that even moving from one side of the earth to the other does not cause him to be seen in a different direction--at least the difference is too small to be measured." now, since we know that north of the equator, say degrees, we see the sun at mid-day to the south, and that at the same distance south of the equator we see the sun at mid-day to the north, our very shadows on the ground cry aloud against the delusion of the day and give us a proof that earth is not a globe. . there is no problem more important to the astronomer than that of the sun's distance from the earth. every change in the estimate changes everything. now, since modern astronomers, in their estimates of this distance, have gone all the way along the line of figures from three millions of miles to a hundred and four millions--to-day, the distance being something over , , ; it matters not how much: for, not many years ago, mr. hind gave the distance, "accurately," as , , !--it follows that they don't know, and that it is foolish for anyone to expect that they ever will know, the sun's distance! and since all this speculation and absurdity is caused by the primary assumption that earth is a wandering, heavenly body, and is all swept away by a knowledge of the fact that earth is a plane, it is a clear proof that earth is not a globe. . it is plain that a theory of measurements without a measuring-rod is like a ship without a rudder; that a measure that is not fixed, not likely to be fixed, and never has been fixed, forms no measuring-rod at all; and that as modern theoretical astronomy depends upon the sun's distance from the earth as its measuring-rod, and the distance is not known, it is a system of measurements without a measuring-rod--a ship without a rudder. now, since it is not difficult to foresee the dashing of this thing upon the rock on which zetetic astronomy is founded, it is a proof that earth is not a globe. . it is commonly asserted that "the earth must be a globe because people have sailed round it." now, since this implies that we can sail round nothing unless it be a globe, and the fact is well known that we can sail round the earth as a plane, the assertion is ridiculous, and we have another proof that earth is not a globe. . it is a fact not so well known as it ought to be that when a ship, in sailing away from us, has reached the point at which her hull is lost to our unaided vision, a good telescope will restore to our view this portion of the vessel. now, since telescopes are not made to enable people to see through a "hill of water," it is clear that the hulls of ships are not behind a hill of water when they can be seen through a telescope though lost to our unaided vision. this is a proof that earth is not a globe. . mr. glaisher, in speaking of his balloon ascends, says: "the horizon always appeared on a level with the car." now, since we may search amongst the laws of optics in vain for any principle that would cause the surface of a globe to turn its face upwards instead of downwards, it is a clear proof that the earth is not a globe. . the rev. d. olmsted, in describing a diagram which is supposed to represent the earth as a globe, with a figure of a man sticking out at each side and one hanging head downwards, says: "we should dwell on this point until it appears to us as truly up,"--in the direction given to these figures as it does with regard to a figure which he has placed on the top! now, a system of philosophy which requires us to do something which is, really, the going out of our minds, by dwelling on an absurdity until we think it is a fact, cannot be a system based on god's truth, which never requires anything of the kind. since, then, the popular theoretical astronomy of the day requires this, it is evident that it is the wrong thing, and that this conclusion furnishes us with a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is often said that the predictions of eclipses prove astronomers to be right in their theories. but it is not seen that this proves too much. it is well known that ptolemy predicted eclipses for six-hundred years, on the basis of a plane earth, with as much accuracy as they are predicted by modern observers. if, then, the predictions prove the truth of the particular theories current at the time, they just as well prove one side of the question as the other, and enable us to lay claim to a proof that the earth is not a globe. . seven-hundred miles is said to be the length of the great canal, in china. certain it is that, when this canal was formed, no "allowance" was made for "curvature." yet the canal is a fact without it. this is a chinese proof that the earth is not a globe. . mr. j. n. lockyer says: "because the sun seems to rise in the east and set in the west, the earth really spins in the opposite direction; that is, from west to east." now, this is no better than though we were to say--because a man seems to be coming up the street, the street really goes down to the man! and since true science would contain no such nonsense as this, it follows that the so-called science of theoretical astronomy is not true, and, therefore, we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . mr. lockyer says: "the appearances connected with the rising and setting of the sun and stars may be due either to our earth being at rest and the sun and stars travelling round it, or the earth itself turning round, while the sun and stars are at rest." now, since true science does not allow of any such beggarly alternatives as these, it is plain that modern theoretical astronomy is not true science, and that its leading dogma is a fallacy. we have, then, a plain proof that the earth is not a globe. . mr. lockyer, in describing his picture of the supposed proof of the earth's rotundity by means of ships rounding a "hill of water," uses these words:--"diagram showing how, when we suppose the earth is round, we explain how it is that ships at sea appear as they do." this is utterly unworthy of the name of science! a science that begins by supposing, and ends by explaining the supposition, is, from beginning to end, a mere farce. the men who can do nothing better than amuse themselves in this way must be denounced as dreamers only, and their leading dogma a delusion. this is a proof that earth is not a globe. . the astronomers' theory of a globular earth necessitates the conclusion that, if we travel south of the equator, to see the north star is an impossibility. yet it is well known this star has been seen by navigators when they have been more than degrees south of the equator. this fact, like hundreds of other facts, puts the theory to shame, and gives us a proof that the earth is not a globe. . astronomers tell us that, in consequence of the earth's "rotundity," the perpendicular walls of buildings are, nowhere, parallel, and that even the walls of houses on opposite sides of a street are not strictly so! but, since all observation fails to find any evidence of this want of parallelism which theory demands, the idea must be renounced as being absurd and in opposition to all well-known facts. this is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . astronomers have made experiments with pendulums which have been suspended from the interior of high buildings, and have exulted over the idea of being able to prove the rotation of the earth on its "axis," by the varying direction taken by the pendulum over a prepared table underneath--asserting that the table moved round under the pendulum, instead of the pendulum shifting and oscillating in different directions over the table! but, since it has been found that, as often as not, the pendulum went round the wrong way for the "rotation" theory, chagrin has taken the place of exultation, and we have a proof of the failure of astronomers in their efforts to substantiate their theory, and, therefore, a proof that earth is not a globe. . as to the supposed "motion of the whole solar system in space," the astronomer royal of england once said: "the matter is left in a most delightful state of uncertainty, and i shall be very glad if anyone can help us out of it." but, since the whole newtonian scheme is, to-day, in a most deplorable state of uncertainty--for, whether the moon goes round the earth or the earth round the moon has, for years, been a matter of "raging" controversy--it follows that, root and branch, the whole thing, is wrong; and, all hot from the raging furnace of philosophical phrensy, we find a glowing proof that earth is not a globe. . considerably more than a million earths would be required to make up a body like the sun--the astronomers tell us: and more than , suns would be wanted to equal the cubic contents of the star vega. and vega is a "small star!" and there are countless millions of these stars! and it takes , , years for the light of some of these stars to reach us at , , miles in a minute! and, says mr. proctor, "i think a moderate estimate of the age of the earth would be , , years!" "its weight," says the same individual, "is , , , , , , , tons!" now, since no human being is able to comprehend these things, the giving of them to the world is an insult--an outrage. and though they have all arisen from the one assumption that earth is a planet, instead of upholding the assumption, they drag it down by the weight of their own absurdity, and leave it lying in the dust--a proof that earth is not a globe. . mr. j. r. young, in his work on navigation, says: "although the path of the ship is on a spherical surface, yet we may represent the length of the path by a straight line on a plane surface." (and plane sailing is the rule.) now, since it is altogether impossible to "represent" a curved line by a straight one, and absurd to make the attempt, it follows that a straight line represents a straight line and not a curved one. and, since it is the surface of the waters of the ocean that is being considered by mr. young, it follows that this surface is a straight surface, and we are indebted to mr. young, a professor of navigation, for a proof that the earth is not a globe. . "oh, but if the earth is a plane, we could go to the edge and tumble over!" is a very common assertion. this is a conclusion that is formed too hastily, and facts overthrow it. the earth certainly is, just what man by his observation finds it to be, and what mr. proctor himself says it "seems" to be--flat; and we cannot cross the icy barrier which surrounds it. this is a complete answer to the objection, and, of course, a proof that earth is not a globe. . "yes, but we can circumnavigate the south easily enough," is often said--by those who don't know. the british ship challenger recently completed the circuit of the southern region--indirectly, to be sure--but she was three years about it, and traversed nearly , miles--a stretch long enough to have taken her six times round on the globular hypothesis. this is a proof that earth is not a globe. . the remark is common enough that we can see the circle of the earth if we cross the ocean, and that this proves it to be round. now, if we tie a donkey to a stake on a level common, and he eats the grass all around him, it is only a circular disc that he has to do with, not a spherical mass. since, then, circular discs may be seen anywhere--as well from a balloon in the air as from the deck of a ship, or from the standpoint of the donkey, it is a proof that the surface of the earth is a plane surface, and, therefore, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is "supposed," in the regular course of the newtonian theory, that the earth is, in june, about millions of miles ( , , ) away from its position in december. now, since we can, (in middle north latitudes), see the north star, on looking out of a window that faces it--and out of the very same corner of the very same pane of glass in the very same window--all the year round, it is proof enough for any man in his senses that we have made no motion at all. it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . newtonian philosophers teach us that the moon goes round the earth from west to east. but observation--man's most certain mode of gaining knowledge--shows us that the moon never ceases to move in the opposite direction--from east to west. since, then, we know that nothing can possibly move in two, opposite directions at the same time, it is a proof that the thing is a big blunder; and, in short, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . astronomers tell us that the moon goes round the earth in about days. well, we may see her making her journey round, every day, if we make use of our eyes--and these are about the best things we have to use. the moon falls behind in her daily motion as compared with that of the sun to the extent of one revolution in the time specified; but that is not making a revolution. failing to go as fast as other bodies go in one direction does not constitute a going round in the opposite one--as the astronomers would have us believe! and, since all this absurdity has been rendered necessary for no other purpose than to help other absurdities along, it is clear that the astronomers are on the wrong track; and it needs no long train of reasoning to show that we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it has been shown that meridians are, necessarily, straight lines; and that it is impossible to travel round the earth in a north or south direction: from which it follows that, in the general acceptation of the word "degree,"--the th part of a circle--meridians have no degrees: for no one knows anything of a meridian circle or semicircle, to be thus divided. but astronomers speak of degrees of latitude in the same sense as those of longitude. this, then, is done by assuming that to be true which is not true. zetetic philosophy does not involve this necessity. this proves that the basis of this philosophy is a sound one, and, in short, is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we move away from an elevated object on or over a plain or a prairie, the height of the object will apparently diminish as we do so. now, that which is sufficient to produce this effect on a small scale is sufficient on a large one; and travelling away from an elevated object, no matter how high, over a level surface, no matter how far, will cause the appearance in question--the lowering of the object. our modern theoretical astronomers, however, in the case of the apparent lowering of the north star as we travel southward, assert that it is evidence that the earth is globular! but, as it is clear that an appearance which is fully accounted for on the basis of known facts cannot be permitted to figure as evidence in favor of that which is only a supposition, it follows that we rightfully order it to stand down, and make way for a proof that the earth is not a globe. . there are rivers which flow east, west, north, and south--that is, rivers are flowing in all directions over the earth's surface, and at the same time. now, if the earth were a globe, some of these rivers would be flowing up-hill and others down, taking it for a fact that there really is an "up" and a "down" in nature, whatever form she assumes. but, since rivers do not flow up-hill, and the globular theory requires that they should, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if the earth were a globe, rolling and dashing through "space" at the rate of "a hundred miles in five seconds of time," the waters of seas and oceans could not, by any known law, be kept on its surface--the assertion that they could be retained under these circumstances being an outrage upon human understanding and credulity! but as the earth--that is, the habitable world of dry land--is found to be "standing out of the water and in the water" of the "mighty deep," whose circumferential boundary is ice, we may throw the statement back into the teeth of those who make it and flaunt before their faces the flag of reason and common sense, inscribed with--a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the theory of a rotating and revolving earth demands a theory to keep the water on its surface; but, as the theory which is given for this purpose is as much opposed to all human experience as the one which it is intended to uphold, it is an illustration of the miserable makeshifts to which astronomers are compelled to resort, and affords a proof that the earth is not a globe. . if we could--after our minds had once been opened to the light of truth--conceive of a globular body on the surface of which human beings could exist, the power--no matter by what name it be called--that would hold them on would, then, necessarily, have to be so constraining and cogent that they could not live; the waters of the oceans would have to be as a solid mass, for motion would be impossible. but we not only exist, but live and move; and the water of the ocean skips and dances like a thing of life and beauty! this is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . it is well known that the law regulating the apparent decrease in the size of objects as we leave them in the distance (or as they leave us) is very different with luminous bodies from what it is in the case of those which are non-luminous. sail past the light of a small lamp in a row-boat on a dark night, and it will seem to be no smaller when a mile off than it was when close to it. proctor says, in speaking of the sun: "his apparent size does not change,"--far off or near. and then he forgets the fact! mr. proctor tells us, subsequently, that, if the traveller goes so far south that the north star appears on the horizon, "the sun should therefore look much larger"--if the earth were a plane! therefore, he argues, "the path followed cannot have been the straight course,"--but a curved one. now, since it is nothing but common scientific trickery to bring forward, as an objection to stand in the way of a plane earth, the non-appearance of a thing which has never been known to appear at all, it follows that, unless that which appears to be trickery were an accident, it was the only course open to the objector--to trick. (mr. proctor, in a letter to the "english mechanic" for oct. , , boasts of having turned a recent convert to the zetetic philosophy by telling him that his arguments were all very good, but that "it seems as though [mark the language!] the sun ought to look nine times larger in summer." and mr. proctor concludes thus: "he saw, indeed, that, in his faith in 'parallax,' he had 'written himself down an ass.'") well, then: trickery or no trickery on the part of the objector, the objection is a counterfeit--a fraud--no valid objection at all; and it follows that the system which does not purge itself of these things is a rotten system, and the system which its advocates, with mr. proctor at their head, would crush if they could find a weapon to use--the zetetic philosophy of "parallax"--is destined to live! this is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . "is water level, or is it not?" was a question once asked of an astronomer. "practically, yes; theoretically, no," was the reply. now, when theory does not harmonize with practice, the best thing to do is to drop the theory. (it is getting too late, now, to say "so much the worse for the facts!") to drop the theory which supposes a curved surface to standing water is to acknowledge the facts which form the basis of zetetic philosophy. and since this will have to be done--sooner or later,--it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . "by actual observation," says schoedler, in his "book of nature," "we know that the other heavenly bodies are spherical, hence we unhesitatingly assert that the earth is so also." this is a fair sample of all astronomical reasoning. when a thing is classed amongst "other" things, the likeness between them must first be proven. it does not take a schoedler to tell us that "heavenly bodies" are spherical, but "the greatest astronomer of the age" will not, now, dare to tell us that the earth is--and attempt to prove it. now, since no likeness has ever been proven to exist between the earth and the heavenly bodies, the classification of the earth with the heavenly bodies is premature--unscientific--false! this is a proof that earth is not a globe. . "there is no inconsistency in supposing that the earth does move round the sun," says the astronomer royal of england. certainly not, when theoretical astronomy is all supposition together! the inconsistency is in teaching the world that the thing supposed is a fact. since, then, the "motion" of the earth is supposition only--since, indeed, it is necessary to suppose it at all--it is plain that it is a fiction and not a fact; and, since "mobility" and "sphericity" stand or fall together, we have before us a proof that earth is not a globe. . we have seen that astronomers--to give us a level surface on which to live--have cut off one-half of the "globe" in a certain picture in their books. [see page .] now, astronomers having done this, one-half of the substance of their "spherical theory" is given up! since, then, the theory must stand or fall in its entirety, it has really fallen when the half is gone. nothing remains, then, but a plane earth, which is, of course, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . in "cornell's geography" there is an "illustrated proof of the form of the earth." a curved line on which is represented a ship in four positions, as she sails away from an observer, is an arc of degrees, or one-fifth of the supposed circumference of the "globe"--about , miles. ten such ships as those which are given in the picture would reach the full length of the "arc," making miles as the length of the ship. the man, in the picture, who is watching the ship as she sails away, is about miles high; and the tower, from which he takes an elevated view, at least miles high. these are the proportions, then, of men, towers, and ships which are necessary in order to see a ship, in her different positions, as she "rounds the curve" of the "great hill of water" over which she is supposed to be sailing: for, it must be remembered that this supposed "proof" depends upon lines and angles of vision which, if enlarged, would still retain their characteristics. now, since ships are not built miles long, with masts in proportion, and men are not quite miles high, it is not what it is said to be--a proof of rotundity--but, either an ignorant farce or a cruel piece of deception. in short, it is a proof that the earth is not a globe. . in "cornell's intermediate geography," ( ) page , is an "illustration of the natural divisions of land and water." this illustration is so nicely drawn that it affords, at once, a striking proof that earth is a plane. it is true to nature, and bears the stamp of no astronomer-artist. it is a pictorial proof that earth is not a globe. . if we refer to the diagram in "cornell's geography," page , and notice the ship in its position the most remote from the observer, we shall find that, though it is about , miles away, it is the same size as the ship that is nearest to him, distant about miles! this is an illustration of the way in which astronomers ignore the laws of perspective. this course is necessary, or they would be compelled to lay bare the fallacy of their dogmas. in short, there is, in this matter, a proof that the earth is not a globe. . mr. hind, the english astronomer, says: "the simplicity with which the seasons are explained by the revolution of the earth in her orbit and the obliquity of the ecliptic, may certainly be adduced as a strong presumptive proof of the correctness"--of the newtonian theory; "for on no other rational suppositions with respect to the relations of the earth and sun, can these and other as well-known phenomena, be accounted for." but, as true philosophy has no "suppositions" at all--and has nothing to do with "suppositions"--and the phenomena spoken of are thoroughly explained by facts, the "presumptive proof" falls to the ground, covered with the ridicule it so richly deserves; and out of the dust of mr. hind's "rational suppositions" we see standing before us a proof that earth is not a globe. . mr. hind speaks of the astronomer watching a star as it is "carried across the telescope by the diurnal revolution of the earth." now, this is nothing but downright absurdity. no motion of the earth could possibly carry a star across a telescope or anything else. if the star is carried across anything at all, it is the star that moves, not the thing across which it is carried! besides, the idea that the earth, if it were a globe, could possibly move in an orbit of nearly , , of miles with such exactitude that the cross-hairs in a telescope fixed on its surface would appear to glide gently over a star "millions of millions" of miles away is simply monstrous; whereas, with a fixed telescope, it matters not the distance of the stars, though we suppose them to be as far off as the astronomer supposes them to be; for, as mr. proctor himself says, "the further away they are, the less they will seem to shift." why, in the name of common sense, should observers have to fix their telescopes on solid stone bases so that they should not move a hair's-breadth, if the earth on which they fix them move at the rate of nineteen miles in a second? indeed, to believe that mr. proctor's mass of "six thousand million million million tons" is "rolling, surging, flying, darting on through space for ever" with a velocity compared with which a shot from a cannon is a "very slow coach," with such unerring accuracy that a telescope fixed on granite pillars in an observatory will not enable a lynx-eyed astronomer to detect a variation in its onward motion of the thousandth part of a hair's-breadth is to conceive a miracle compared with which all the miracles on record put together would sink into utter insignificance. captain r. j. morrison, the late compiler of "zadkeil's almanac," says: "we declare that this 'motion' is all mere 'bosh'; and that the arguments which uphold it are, when examined with an eye that seeks for truth only, mere nonsense, and childish absurdity." since, then, these absurd theories are of no use to men in their senses, and since there is no necessity for anything of the kind in zetetic philosophy, it is a "strong presumptive proof"--as mr. hind would say--that the zetetic philosophy is true, and, therefore, a proof that earth is not a globe. . mr. hind speaks of two great mathematicians differing only fifty-five yards in their estimate of the earth's diameter. why, sir john herschel, in his celebrated work, cuts off miles of the same thing to get "round numbers!" this is like splitting a hair on one side of the head and shaving all the hair off on the other! oh, "science!" can there be any truth in a science like this? all the exactitude in astronomy is in practical astronomy--not theoretical. centuries of observation have made practical astronomy a noble art and science, based--as we have a thousand times proved it to be--on a fixed earth; and we denounce this pretended exactitude on one side and the reckless indifference to figures on the other as the basest trash, and take from it a proof that the "science" which tolerates it is a false--instead of being an "exact"--science, and we have a proof that the earth is not a globe. . the sun, as he travels round over the surface of the earth, brings "noon" to all places on the successive meridians which he crosses: his journey being made in a westerly direction, places east of the sun's position have had their noon, whilst places to the west of the sun's position have still to get it. therefore, if we travel easterly, we arrive at those parts of the earth where "time" is more advanced, the watch in our pocket has to be "put on," or we may be said to "gain time." if, on the other hand, we travel westerly, we arrive at places where it is still "morning," the watch has to be "put back," and it may be said that we "lose time." but, if we travel easterly so as to cross the th meridian, there is a loss, there, of a day, which will neutralize the gain of a whole circumnavigation; and, if we travel westerly, and cross the same meridian, we experience the gain of a day, which will compensate for the loss during a complete circumnavigation in that direction. the fact of losing or gaining time in sailing round the world, then, instead of being evidence of the earth's "rotundity," as it is imagined to be, is, in its practical exemplification, an everlasting proof that the earth is not a globe. "and what then?" what then! no intelligent man will ask the question; and he who may be called an intellectual man will know that the demonstration of the fact that the earth is not a globe is the grandest snapping of the chains of slavery that ever took place in the world of literature or science. the floodgates of human knowledge are opened afresh and an impetus is given to investigation and discovery where all was stagnation, bewilderment and dreams! is it nothing to know that infidelity cannot stand against the mighty rush of the living water of truth that must flow on and on until the world shall look "up" once more "to him that stretched out the earth above the waters"--"to him that made great lights:--the sun to rule by day--the moon and stars to rule by night?" is it nothing to know and to feel that the heavenly bodies were made for man, and that the monstrous dogma of an infinity of worlds is overthrown for ever? the old-time english "family herald," for july , , says, in its editorial, that "the earth's revolution on its own axis was denied, against galileo and copernicus, by the whole weight of the church of rome." and, in an article on "the pride of ignorance," too!--the editor not knowing that if the earth had an axis to call its "own"--which the church well knew it had not, and, therefore, could not admit--it would not "revolve" on it; and that the theoretical motion on an axis is that of rotation, and not revolution! is it nothing to know that "the whole weight of the church of rome" was thrown in the right direction, although it has swayed back again like a gigantic pendulum that will regain its old position before long? is it nothing to know that the "pride of ignorance" is on the other side? is it nothing to know that, with all the bradlaughs and ingersolls of the world telling us to the contrary--biblical science is true? is it nothing to know that we are living on a body at rest, and not upon a heavenly body whirling and dashing through space in every conceivable way and with a velocity utterly inconceivable? is it nothing to know that we can look stedfastly up to heaven instead of having no heaven to look up to at all? is it nothing, indeed, to be in the broad daylight of truth and to be able to go on towards a possible perfection, instead of being wrapped in the darkness of error on the rough ocean of life, and finding ourselves stranded at last--god alone knows where? baltimore, maryland, u. s. a., august, . appendix to the second edition. the following letters remain unanswered, at the time of going to press, december , :-- " chew street, baltimore, nov. , . r. a. proctor, esq., st. joe, mo. sir: i have sent you two copies of my 'one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe,' and, as several weeks have since elapsed and i have not heard from you, i write to inform you that if you have any remarks to make concerning that publication, and will let me have them in the course of a week or ten days, i will print them--if you say what you may wish to say in about five or six hundred words--in the second edition of the pamphlet, which will very soon be called for. allow me to say that, as this work is not only 'dedicated' to you but attacks your teachings, the public will be looking for something from your pen very shortly. i hope they may not be disappointed. yours in the cause of truth, w. carpenter." " chew street, baltimore, nov. , . spencer f. baird, esq., secretary of the smithsonian institution, washington, d. c. sir:--i had the pleasure, several weeks ago, of sending you my 'one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe.' i hope you received them. a second edition is now called for, and i should esteem it a favor if you would write me a few words concerning them that i may print with this forthcoming edition as an appendix to them. if you think any of the 'hundred proofs' are unsound, i will print all you may have to say about them, if not over words, as above stated. i have made richard a. proctor, esq., a similar offer, giving him, of course, a little more space. i feel sure that the very great importance of this matter will prompt you to give it your immediate attention. i have the honor to be, sir, yours sincerely, wm. carpenter." copies of the first edition of this pamphlet have been sent to the leading newspapers of this country and of england, and to very many of the most renowned scientific men of the two countries--from the astronomer royal, of england, to dr. gilman, of johns hopkins university, baltimore. several copies have been sent to graduates of different universities, on application, in consequence of the subjoined advertisement, which has appeared in several newspapers:-- "wanted.--a scholar of ripe attainments to review carpenter's 'one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe.' liberal remuneration offered. apply to wm. carpenter, chew street, baltimore. n. b.--no one need apply who has not courage enough to append his name to the review for publication." we should be pleased to hear from some of the gentlemen in time for the insertion of their courageous attacks in the third edition! opinions of the press. "this can only be described as an extraordinary book.... his arguments are certainly plausible and ingenious, and even the reader who does not agree with him will find a singular interest and fascination in analyzing the 'one hundred proofs.'... the proofs are set forth in brief, forcible, compact, very clear paragraphs, the meaning of which can be comprehended at a glance."--daily news, sept. . "throughout the entire work there are discernible traces of a strong and reliant mind, and such reliance as can only have been acquired by unbiassed observation, laborious investigation, and final conviction; and the masterly handling of so profound a theme displays evidence of grave and active researches. there is no groping wildly about in the vagueness of theoretical speculations, no empty hypotheses inflated with baseless assertions and false illustrations, but the practical and perspicuous conclusions of a mind emancipated from the prevailing influences of fashionable credence and popular prejudice, and subordinate only to those principles emanating from reason and common sense."--h. d. t., woodberry news, sept. , . "we do not profess to be able to overthrow any of his 'proofs.' and we must admit, and our readers will be inclined to do the same, that it is certainly a strange thing that mr. wm. carpenter, or anyone else, should be able to bring together 'one hundred proofs' of anything in the world if that thing is not right, while we keep on asking for one proof, that is really a satisfactory one, on the other side. if these 'hundred proofs' are nonsense, we cannot prove them to be so, and some of our scientific men had better try their hands, and we think they will try their heads pretty badly into the bargain."--the woodberry news, baltimore, sept. , . "this is a remarkable pamphlet. the author has the courage of his convictions, and presents them with no little ingenuity, however musty they may appear to nineteenth century readers. he takes for his text a statement of prof. proctor's that 'the earth on which we live and move seems to be flat,' and proceeds with great alacrity to marshal his hundred arguments in proof that it not only seems but is flat, 'an extended plane, stretched out in all directions away from the central north.' he enumerates all the reasons offered by scientists for a belief in the rotundity of the earth and evidently to his own complete satisfaction refutes them. he argues that the heavenly bodies were made solely to light this world, that the belief in an infinity of worlds is a monstrous dogma, contrary to bible teaching, and the great stronghold of the infidel; and that the church of rome was right when it threw the whole weight of its influence against galileo and copernicus when they taught the revolution of the earth on its axis."--michigan christian herald, oct. , . "so many proofs."--every saturday, sept. , . "a highly instructive and very entertaining work.... the book is well worth reading."--protector, baltimore, oct. , . "the book will be sought after and read with peculiar interest."--baltimore labor free press, oct. , . "some of them [the proofs] are of sufficient force to demand an answer from the advocates of the popular theory."--baltimore episcopal methodist, october , . "showing considerable smartness both in conception and argument."--western christian advocate, cincinnati, o., oct. , . "forcible and striking in the extreme."--brooklyn market journal. baltimore, maryland, u. s. a., december , . [appendix to third edition.] copy of letter from richard a. proctor, esq. montague street, russell square, london, w.c., dec., . w. carpenter, esq., baltimore. dear sir,--i am obliged to you for the copy of your "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe," and for the evident kindness of your intention in dedicating the work to me. the only further remark it occurs to me to offer is that i call myself rather a student of astronomy than an astronomer. yours faithfully, richard a. proctor. p.s. perhaps the pamphlet might more precisely be called "one hundred difficulties for young students of astronomy." [appendix to fourth edition.] copy of letter from spencer f. baird, esq. smithsonian institution, washington, d. c., jan. , . dear sir,--a copy of your "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe" was duly received, and was deposited in library of congress october , . [ ] a pressure of much more important work has prevented any attempt at reviewing these hundred proofs:--which however have doubtless been thoroughly investigated by the inquisitive astronomers and geodesists of the last four centuries. yours very respectfully, spencer f. baird, secretary s. i. mr. william carpenter, , chew street, baltimore, md. copy of a letter from one of the several applicants for the "one hundred proofs" for the purpose of reviewing them. the writer is professor of mathematics at the high school, auburn, n. y., and, in his application for the pamphlet, says: "am a yale graduate and a yale law school man: took the john a. porter prize (literary) ($ ) at yale college." auburn, dec. th, . my dear sir: your treatise was received. i have looked it over and noted it somewhat. a review of it to do it justice would be a somewhat long and laborious task. before i undertook so much thought i would write and ask what and how much you expect: how elaborately you wished it discussed: and what remuneration might be expected. it sets forth many new and strange doctrines which would have to be thoroughly discussed and mastered before reviewed. i am hard at work at present but would like to tackle this if it would be for my interest as well as yours. hope you will let me know very soon. very respectfully, to mr. w. carpenter, baltimore, md. frank strong. note.--unless a man be willing to sell his soul for his supposed worldly "interest," he will not dare to "tackle" the "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe." no man with well-balanced faculties will thus condemn himself. we charge the mathematicians of the world that, if they cannot say what they think of this pamphlet in a dozen words, they are entitled to no other name than--cowards! baltimore, maryland, may , . appendix to the fifth edition. editorial from the "new york world," of august , :-- the earth is flat. the iconoclastic tendencies of the age have received new impetus from mr. william carpenter, who comes forward with one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe. it will be a sad shock to many conservatives who have since their childhood fondly held to the conviction that "the earth is round like an orange, a little flattened at the poles." to find that, after all, we have been living all these years on a prosaic and unromantic plane is far from satisfactory. we have rather gloried in the belief that the semi-barbarous nations on the other side of the earth did not carry their heads in the same direction in which ours point. it is hard to accept the assertion that the cannibals on savage islands are walking about on the same level with the civilized nations of our little world. but mr. carpenter has one hundred proofs that such is the unsatisfactory truth. not only that, but the iconoclast claims that we are not whirling through space at a terrible rate, but are absolutely stationary. some probability is given to this proposition by the present hot weather. the earth seems to be becalmed. if it were moving at the rate of nineteen miles a second wouldn't there be a breeze? this question is thrown out as perhaps offering the one hundred and first proof that the earth is not a globe. mr. carpenter may obtain the proof in detail at the office at our usual rates. a revolution will, of course, take place in the school geographies as soon as mr. carpenter's theories have been closely studied. no longer will the little boy answer the question as to the shape of the earth by the answer which has come ringing down the ages, "it's round like a ball, sir." no. he'll have to use the unpoetic formula, "it's flat like a pancake, sir." but, perhaps, after we have become used to the new idea it will not be unpleasant. the ancients flourished in the belief that the earth was a great plane. why shouldn't we be equally fortunate? it may be romantic but it is not especially comforting to think that the earth is rushing through space twisting and curving like a gigantic ball delivered from the hand of an enormous pitcher. something in the universe might make a base hit if we kept on and we would be knocked over an aerial fence and never found. perhaps, after all, it is safer to live on mr. carpenter's stationary plane. the "record," of philadelphia, june , , has the following, in the literary notes:--"under the title one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe, mr. william carpenter, of baltimore, publishes a pamphlet which is interesting on account of the originality of the views advanced, and, from his standpoint, the very logical manner in which he seeks to establish their truth. mr. carpenter is a disciple of what is called the zetetic school of philosophy, and was referee for mr. john hampden when that gentleman, in , made a wager with mr. alfred r. wallace, of england, that the surface of standing water is always level, and therefore that the earth is flat. since then he has combated his views with much earnestness, both in writing and on the platform, and, whatever opinions we may have on the subject, a perusal of his little book will prove interesting and afford room for careful study." "the motto which he puts on the cover--'upright, downright, straightforward'--is well chosen, for it is an upright lie, a downright invention, and a straightforward butt of a bull at a locomotive."--the florida times union, dec. , . editor, charles h. jones. [pray, mr. jones, tell us what you mean by "an upright lie."!!] "we have received a pamphlet from a gentleman who thinks to prove that the earth is flat, but who succeeds only in showing that he is himself one."--new york herald, dec. , . [the reviewer, in this case, is, no doubt, a very "sharp" man, but his honesty--if he have any at all--is jagged and worn out. the "quotations" which he gives are fraudulent, there being nothing like them in the pamphlet.] "the author of the pamphlet is no 'flat,' though he may perhaps be called a 'crank.'"--st. catharines (can.) evening jour., dec. . "to say that the contents of the book are erudite and entertaining does not do mr. carpenter's astronomical ability half credit."--the sunday truth, buffalo, dec. , . "the entire work is very ingeniously gotten up.... the matter of perspective is treated in a very clever manner, and the coming up of 'hull-down' vessels on the horizon is illustrated by several well-worded examples."--buffalo times, dec. , . "the erudite author, who travels armed with plans and specifications to fire at the skeptical at a moment's notice, feels that he is doing a good work, and that his hundred anti-globular conclusions must certainly knock the general belief in territorial rotundity out of time."... "we trust that the distinguished author who has failed to coax richard proctor into a public discussion may find as many citizens willing to invest two shillings in his peculiar literature as he deserves."--buffalo courier, dec. , , and jan. , . "it is a pleasure now to see a man of mr. carpenter's attainments fall into line and take up the cudgels against the theories of the scientists who have taught this pernicious doctrine [the sphericity of the earth]."--rochester morning herald, jan. , . "as the game stands now, there is 'one horse' for prof. carpenter."--buffalo world, jan. , . "it is interesting to show how much can be said in favor of the flat world theory.... it is fairly well written, although, we believe filled with misstatements of facts."--rochester democrat and chronicle, jan. , . [we "believe" the editor cannot point one out.] "it is certainly worth twice the price, and will be read by all with peculiar interest."--scranton truth, march , . "mr. william carpenter has come to washington with a "hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe." he has a pamphlet on the subject which is ingenious, to say the least, and he is ominously eager to discuss the matter with any one who still clings to the absurd prejudices of the astronomers."--the hatchet, may , . "it contains some curious problems for solution, and the author boldly asserts that until they are solved the globular theory of the earth remains unproven, and is fallacious, &c."--the presbyterian, philadelphia, june , . "his reasoning is, to say the least, plausible, and the book interesting."--the item, philadelphia, june , . "mr. carpenter seems to have made a thorough investigation of the subject, and his arguments are practical and to the point."--sunday mercury, philadelphia, june , . "a gentleman has just called at the editorial rooms with a pamphlet which is designed to demonstrate that the earth is not a globe, but a flat disk; he also laid before us a chart from which it plainly appeared that the earth is a circular expanse of land, with the north pole in the exact center, and the antarctic sea flowing all around the land.... we went on to state that we lodged the care of all astronomical questions in the hands of rev. r. m. luther, to whom these perplexing matters are but as child's play.... our readers may, therefore, expect at an early date a judicial view of the astronomical and cosmological situation."--national baptist, philadelphia, july , . editor, dr. wayland. [we hope that the rev. r. m. luther will give us the means of publishing his decision before many more editions of the "hundred proofs" be issued. we are afraid that he finds the business much more than "child's play."] "'one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe,' by william carpenter, is published by the author, whose novel and rather startling position is certainly fortified by a number of argumentative points, which, if they do not shake the reader's preconceived notions on the subject, will, at least, be found entertaining for the style in which they are put."--evening star, philadelphia, july , . "his 'proofs' go a long way towards convincing many that his ideas on the subject are practical and sensible."--fashion journal, philadelphia, july, . editor, mrs. f. e. benedict. "'one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe' is a curious little pamphlet that we can commend to all interested in astronomy and related sciences. it may not upset received notions on the subject, but will give cause for much serious reflection. published by the author, wm. carpenter, baltimore, md. price cents."--the saturday evening post, philadelphia, july , . "here now is an able thinker of baltimore, professor william carpenter, who presents the claims of the zetetic philosophy to be considered the leading issue of our times.... one of the great proofs of the truth of the philosophy is that the regular astronomers do not dare to gainsay it.... they are well aware there is no south pole.... prof. carpenter, in a treatise that has reached us, furnishes proofs that the earth is flat, and while we cannot say that we understand all of them we appreciate the earnestness of his appeals to the moral people of the community to rise up and overthrow the miserable system of error that is being forced upon our children in the public schools, vitiating the very foundations of knowledge. what issue can be more noble or inspiring than truth vs. error? here is an issue on which there can be no trifling or compromise. in the great contest between those who hold the earth is flat and they who contend that it is round, let the flats assert themselves."--milwaukee sentinel, aug., . [from a long article, "the great zetetic issue."] letters to professor gilman, of the johns hopkins university. chew street, baltimore, september , . prof. gilman, johns hopkins university--sir: on the st ultimo i wrote to ask you if you received the pamphlet, which i left for you at the university twelve months ago, entitled "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe," and, if so, that you would kindly give me your opinion concerning it. i write, now, to ask you if you received my letter. i am quite sure that you will consider that the importance of the subject fully warrants the endeavor on my part to gain the views which may be entertained by you respecting it. the fifth edition will soon be called for, and anything you may urge--for or against--i shall be happy to insert in the "appendix." i send, herewith, a copy of the fourth edition of the pamphlet. yours sincerely, william carpenter. chew street, baltimore, october , . professor gilman--dear sir: i am now preparing the appendix for the fifth edition of my "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe," and i should be glad to receive your opinion of this work to insert in the said appendix. i can offer you from a few lines to a page, or two if necessary. of course, if this work as a whole be a fraud, it must be fraudulent in all its parts; and each one of the "hundred proofs" must contain a fallacy of some kind or other, and the thing would justify your disapprobation--expressed in few words or many. if, on the other hand, the work is what it professes to be, it will certainly claim your approval. yours sincerely, w. carpenter. chew street, baltimore, october , . prof. gilman--dear sir: a week ago i wrote you a letter to tell you that i should be glad to receive your opinion of the "hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe," of which work , copies are now in circulation. i wrote this work ( pages) in one week, without neglecting my daily business: surely, you can reply to it in a week from this time. i will give you from one to four pages, if you wish that amount of space, and send you fifty copies, if you desire to have them, without putting you to the slightest expense. i will even take any suggestion you please to make as to the title which shall be given to this extra edition of my work containing your reply or opinions. i should be sorry to be under the necessity of printing this letter, with others, in my next edition, in the place of any such reply or expression of opinion; for i feel sure there is no one in baltimore who is more capable of giving an opinion on this great subject. trusting to hear from you in a few days, i am, dear sir, yours truly, william carpenter. chew street, baltimore, october , . prof. gilman--sir: this is the fifth letter--and the last--to you, asking you for an expression of your opinion concerning the "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe." which would you prefer--to see my words, or yours, in print? i give you a week in which to decide. truly, william carpenter. the johns hopkins university, of baltimore. we are indebted to "scribner's monthly" for the following remarks concerning this institution:--"by the will of johns hopkins, a merchant of baltimore, the sum of $ , , was devoted to the endowment of a university and a hospital, $ , , being devoted to each. this is the largest single endowment ever made to an institution of learning in this country. to the bequest no burdensome conditions were attached."... "the physiological laboratory of the johns hopkins has no peer in this country, and the other laboratories few equals and no superiors." in the first annual report of the university ( ) we read:--"early in the month of february, , the trustees of the university having been apprised by the executors of johns hopkins, of the endowment provided by his will, took proper steps for organization and entering upon the practical duties of the trust, and addressed themselves to the selection of a president of the university. with this view the trustees sought the counsel and advice of the heads of several of the leading seats of learning in the country, and, upon unanimous recommendation and endorsement from these sources, the choice fell upon mr. daniel c. gilman, who, at the time, occupied the position of president of the university of california. "mr. gilman is a graduate of yale college, and for several years before his call to california, was a professor in that institution, taking an active part in the organization and development of 'the sheffield scientific school of yale college,' at new haven. upon receiving an invitation to baltimore, he resigned the office which he had held in california since , and entered upon the service of the johns hopkins university, may , ."--galloway cheston. "in the hunt for truth, we are not first hunters, and then men; we are first and always men, then hunters."--d. c. gilman, oct., . the "one hundred proofs that the earth is not a globe" have been running around within the observation of the master huntsman and his men for a year or more: now let the hunters prove themselves to be men; and the men, hunters. it is impossible to be successful hunters for truth, if error be allowed to go scot-free. nay, it is utterly impossible for the johns hopkins university to answer the purpose of its founder if its hunters for truth do not first hunt error with their hounds and hold it up to ridicule, and then, and always, keep a watchful eye for the truth lest they should injure it by their hot haste or wound it with their weapons. prof. daniel c. gilman, we charge you that the duties of your office render it imperative that, sooner or later, you lead your men into the field against the hundred proofs, to show the world that they are hunters worthy of the name--if, in your superior judgment, you decide that there is error to be slain--or, show that your hunters are worthy of the better name of men, by inducing them to follow and sustain you, out of the beaten track, in your endeavors to uphold god's truth, if, in your superior judgment, you tell them, "there is a truth to be upheld!" [end of the appendix to the fifth edition. nov. , .] professor proctor's proofs. "a proof, a proof!" cries student brown; says proctor, "very well, if that is all you want, indeed, i've plenty i can tell: but really i have scarcely time, or patience, now, to do it; you ought to know the earth's a globe, then, as a globe you'd view it. i knew it long ago: in truth, 'twas taught me in my cot, and, then, too old was i to doubt--too young to say 'twas not!" "and you have never questioned it?" "why should i, now, friend brown? i took it all for granted, just as daddy laid it down. and as my duty clearly was,--no other way i saw it-- and that's the reason why, of course, a globe i always draw it. and so you want a proof! ah ha: just cross the broad atlantic, and then a proof so strong you'll have, with joy 'twill send you [frantic!" "you mean, that i shall see the ships come round the old earth's side-- and up--and o'er the 'watery hill'--as into view they glide! no, proctor, no: you say, yourself, the earth so vast in size is, the surface seems a level one--indeed, to sight, it rises. and ships, when coming into view, seem 'bearing down upon us.' no, proctor, let us have a proof--no, no, come--mercy on us!" "well, brown, i've proofs that serve to show that earth, indeed, [a ball 'tis; but if you won't believe them--well, not mine but yours the fault is. why, everybody, surely, knows a planet must be round, and, since the earth a planet is, its shape at once is found. we know it travels round the sun, a thousand miles a minute, and, therefore, it must be a globe: a flat earth couldn't spin it. we know it on its axis turns with motion unperceived; and therefore, surely, plain it is, its shape must be believed. we know its weight put down in tons exactly as we weigh'd it; and, therefore, what could clearer be, if we ourselves had made it? we know its age--can figures lie?--its size--its weight--its motion; and then to say, ''tis all my eye,' shows madness in the notion. besides, the other worlds and suns--some cooling down--some hot!-- how can you say, you want a proof, with all these in the pot? no, brown: just let us go ahead; don't interfere at all; some other day i'll come and bring proof that earth's a ball!" "no, proctor, no:" said mr. brown; "'tis now too late to try it:-- a hundred proofs are now put down (and you cannot deny it) that earth is not a globe at all, and does not move through space: and your philosophy i call a shame and a disgrace. we have to interfere, and do the best that we are able to crush your theories and to lay the facts upon the table. god's truth is what the people need, and men will strive to preach it; and all your efforts are in vain, though you should dare impeach it. you've given half your theory up; the people have to know it:-- you smile, but, then, your book's enough: for that will plainly [show it. one-half your theory's gone, and, soon, the other half goes, too: so, better turn about, at once, and show what you can do. own up (as people have to do, when they have been deceived), and help the searcher after truth of doubt to be relieved. 'the only amaranthine flower is virtue;'--don't forget it-- 'the only lasting treasure, truth:'--and never strive to let it." odds and ends. "we do not possess a single evident proof in favor of the rotation"--of the earth--"around its axis."--dr. shoepfer. "to prove the impossibility of the revolution of the earth around the sun, will present no difficulty. we can bring self-evident proof to the contrary."--dr. shoepfer. "to reform and not to chastise, i am afraid is impossible.... to attack views in the abstract without touching persons may be safe fighting, indeed, but it is fighting with shadows."--pope. "both revelation and science agree as to the shape of the earth. the psalmist calls it the 'round world,' even when it was universally supposed to be a flat extended plain."--rev. dr. brewer. [what a mistake!?] "if the earth were a perfect sphere of equal density throughout, the waters of the ocean would be absolutely level--that is to say, would have a spherical surface everywhere equidistant from the earth's centre."--english "family herald," february , . "the more i consider them the more i doubt of all systems of astronomy. i doubt whether we can with certainty know either the distance or magnitude of any star in the firmament; else why do astronomers so immensely differ, even with regard to the distance of the sun from the earth? some affirming it to be only three, and others ninety millions of miles."--rev. john wesley, in his "journal." "i don't know that i ever hinted heretofore that the aeronaut may well be the most sceptical man about the rotundity of the earth. philosophy imposes the truth upon us; but the view of the earth from the elevation of a balloon is that of an immense terrestrial basin, the deeper part of which is that directly under one's feet. as we ascend, the earth beneath us seems to recede--actually to sink away--while the horizon gradually and gracefully lifts a diversified slope, stretching away farther and farther to a line that, at the highest elevation, seems to close with the sky. thus, upon a clear day, the aeronaut feels as if suspended at about an equal distance between the vast blue oceanic concave above and the equally expanded terrestrial basin below."--mr. elliott, baltimore. in the "scientific american," for april , , is a full report of a lecture delivered at berlin, by dr. shoepfer, headed "our earth motionless," which concludes thus:--"the poet goethe, whose prophetic views remained during his life wholly unnoticed, said the following: 'in whatever way or manner may have occurred this business, i must still say that i curse this modern theory of cosmogony, and hope that perchance there may appear in due time some young scientist of genius who will pick up courage enough to upset this universally disseminated delirium of lunatics. the most terrible thing in all this is that one is obliged to repeatedly hear the assurance that all the physicists adhere to the same opinion on this question. but one who is acquainted with men knows how it is done: good, intellectual, and courageous heads adorn their mind with such an idea for the sake of its probability; they gather followers and pupils, and thus form a literary power; their idea is finally worked out, exaggerated, and with a passionate impulse is forced upon society; hundreds and hundreds of noble-minded, reasonable people who work in other spheres, desiring to see their circle esteemed and dear to the interests of daily life, can do nothing better or more reasonable than to leave to other investigators their free scope of action, and add their voice in the benefit of that business which does not concern them at all. this is termed the universal corroboration of the truthfulness of an idea!'" the holy earth by l. h. bailey new york charles scribner's sons copyright, , by charles scribner's sons published september, contents page first, the statement: pages - in the beginning the earth is good it is kindly the earth is holy second, the consequences: pages - the habit of destruction the new hold the brotherhood relation the farmer's relation the underlying training of a people the neighbor's access to the earth the subdividing of the land a new map the public program the honest day's work the group reaction the spiritual contact with nature the struggle for existence: war the daily fare the admiration of good materials the keeping of the beautiful earth the tones of industry the threatened literature the separate soul the element of separateness in society the democratic basis in agriculture the background spaces.--the forest a forest background for a reformatory the background spaces.--the open fields the background spaces.--the ancestral sea the holy earth the holy earth first, the statement so bountiful hath been the earth and so securely have we drawn from it our substance, that we have taken it all for granted as if it were only a gift, and with little care or conscious thought of the consequences of our use of it; nor have we very much considered the essential relation that we bear to it as living parts in the vast creation. it is good to think of ourselves--of this teeming, tense, and aspiring human race--as a helpful and contributing part in the plan of a cosmos, and as participators in some far-reaching destiny. the idea of responsibility is much asserted of late, but we relate it mostly to the attitude of persons in the realm of conventional conduct, which we have come to regard as very exclusively the realm of morals; and we have established certain formalities that satisfy the conscience. but there is some deeper relation than all this, which we must recognize and the consequences of which we must practise. there is a directer and more personal obligation than that which expends itself in loyalty to the manifold organizations and social requirements of the present day. there is a more fundamental co-operation in the scheme of things than that which deals with the proprieties or which centres about the selfishness too often expressed in the salvation of one's soul. we can be only onlookers on that part of the cosmos that we call the far heavens, but it is possible to co-operate in the processes on the surface of the sphere. this co-operation may be conscious and definite, and also useful to the earth; that is, it may be real. what means this contact with our natural situation, this relationship to the earth to which we are born, and what signify this new exploration and conquest of the planet and these accumulating prophecies of science? does the mothership of the earth have any real meaning to us? all this does not imply a relation only with material and physical things, nor any effort to substitute a nature religion. our relation with the planet must be raised into the realm of spirit; we cannot be fully useful otherwise. we must find a way to maintain the emotions in the abounding commercial civilization. there are two kinds of materials,--those of the native earth and the idols of one's hands. the latter are much in evidence in modern life, with the conquests of engineering, mechanics, architecture, and all the rest. we visualize them everywhere, and particularly in the great centres of population. the tendency is to be removed farther and farther from the everlasting backgrounds. our religion is detached. we come out of the earth and we have a right to the use of the materials; and there is no danger of crass materialism if we recognize the original materials as divine and if we understand our proper relation to the creation, for then will gross selfishness in the use of them be removed. this will necessarily mean a better conception of property and of one's obligation in the use of it. we shall conceive of the earth, which is the common habitation, as inviolable. one does not act rightly toward one's fellows if one does not know how to act rightly toward the earth. nor does this close regard for the mother earth imply any loss of mysticism or of exaltation: quite the contrary. science but increases the mystery of the unknown and enlarges the boundaries of the spiritual vision. to feel that one is a useful and co-operating part in nature is to give one kinship, and to open the mind to the great resources and the high enthusiasms. here arise the fundamental common relations. here arise also the great emotions and conceptions of sublimity and grandeur, of majesty and awe, the uplift of vast desires,--when one contemplates the earth and the universe and desires to take them into the soul and to express oneself in their terms; and here also the responsible practices of life take root. so much are we now involved in problems of human groups, so persistent are the portrayals of our social afflictions, and so well do we magnify our woes by insisting on them, so much in sheer weariness do we provide antidotes to soothe our feelings and to cause us to forget by means of many empty diversions, that we may neglect to express ourselves in simple free personal joy and to separate the obligation of the individual from the irresponsibilities of the mass. _in the beginning_ it suits my purpose to quote the first sentence in the hebrew scripture: in the beginning god created the heaven and the earth. this is a statement of tremendous reach, introducing the cosmos; for it sets forth in the fewest words the elemental fact that the formation of the created earth lies above and before man, and that therefore it is not man's but god's. man finds himself upon it, with many other creatures, all parts in some system which, since it is beyond man and superior to him, is divine. yet the planet was not at once complete when life had appeared upon it. the whirling earth goes through many vicissitudes; the conditions on its fruitful surface are ever-changing; and the forms of life must meet the new conditions: so does the creation continue, and every day sees the genesis in process. all life contends, sometimes ferociously but more often bloodlessly and benignly, and the contention results in momentary equilibrium, one set of contestants balancing another; but every change in the outward conditions destroys the equation and a new status results. of all the disturbing living factors, man is the greatest. he sets mighty changes going, destroying forests, upturning the sleeping prairies, flooding the deserts, deflecting the courses of the rivers, building great cities. he operates consciously and increasingly with plan aforethought; and therefore he carries heavy responsibility. this responsibility is recognized in the hebrew scripture, from which i have quoted; and i quote it again because i know of no other scripture that states it so well. man is given the image of the creator, even when formed from the dust of the earth, so complete is his power and so real his dominion: and god blessed them: and god said unto them, be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. one cannot receive all these privileges without bearing the obligation to react and to partake, to keep, to cherish, and to co-operate. we have assumed that there is no obligation to an inanimate thing, as we consider the earth to be: but man should respect the conditions in which he is placed; the earth yields the living creature; man is a living creature; science constantly narrows the gulf between the animate and the inanimate, between the organized and the inorganized; evolution derives the creatures from the earth; the creation is one creation. i must accept all or reject all. _the earth is good_ it is good to live. we talk of death and of lifelessness, but we know only of life. even our prophecies of death are prophecies of more life. we know no better world: whatever else there may be is of things hoped for, not of things seen. the objects are here, not hidden nor far to seek: and god saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. these good things are the present things and the living things. the account is silent on the things that were not created, the chaos, the darkness, the abyss. plato, in the "republic," reasoned that the works of the creator must be good because the creator is good. this goodness is in the essence of things; and we sadly need to make it a part in our philosophy of life. the earth is the scene of our life, and probably the very source of it. the heaven, so far as human beings know, is the source only of death; in fact, we have peopled it with the dead. we have built our philosophy on the dead. we seem to have overlooked the goodness of the earth in the establishing of our affairs, and even in our philosophies. it is reserved as a theme for preachers and for poets. and yet, the goodness of the planet is the basic fact in our existence. i am not speaking of good in an abstract way, in the sense in which some of us suppose the creator to have expressed himself as pleased or satisfied with his work. the earth is good in itself, and its products are good in themselves. the earth sustains all things. it satisfies. it matters not whether this satisfaction is the result of adaptation in the process of evolution; the fact remains that the creation is good. to the common man the earth propounds no system of philosophy or of theology. the man makes his own personal contact, deals with the facts as they are or as he conceives them to be, and is not swept into any system. he has no right to assume a bad or evil earth, although it is difficult to cast off the hindrance of centuries of teaching. when he is properly educated he will get a new resource from his relationships. it may be difficult to demonstrate this goodness. in the nature of things we must assume it, although we know that we could not subsist on a sphere of the opposite qualities. the important consideration is that we appreciate it, and this not in any sentimental and impersonal way. to every bird the air is good; and a man knows it is good if he is worth being a man. to every fish the water is good. to every beast its food is good, and its time of sleep is good. the creatures experience that life is good. every man in his heart knows that there is goodness and wholeness in the rain, in the wind, the soil, the sea, the glory of sunrise, in the trees, and in the sustenance that we derive from the planet. when we grasp the significance of this situation, we shall forever supplant the religion of fear with a religion of consent. we are so accustomed to these essentials--to the rain, the wind, the soil, the sea, the sunrise, the trees, the sustenance--that we may not include them in the categories of the good things, and we endeavor to satisfy ourselves with many small and trivial and exotic gratifications; and when these gratifications fail or pall, we find ourselves helpless and resourceless. the joy of sound sleep, the relish of a sufficient meal of plain and wholesome food, the desire to do a good day's work and the recompense when at night we are tired from the doing of it, the exhilaration of fresh air, the exercise of the natural powers, the mastery of a situation or a problem,--these and many others like them are fundamental satisfactions, beyond all pampering and all toys, and they are of the essence of goodness. i think we should teach all children how good are the common necessities, and how very good are the things that are made in the beginning. _it is kindly_ we hear much about man being at the mercy of nature, and the literalist will contend that there can be no holy relation under such conditions. but so is man at the mercy of god. it is a blasphemous practice that speaks of the hostility of the earth, as if the earth were full of menaces and cataclysms. the old fear of nature, that peopled the earth and sky with imps and demons, and that gave a future state to satan, yet possesses the minds of men, only that we may have ceased to personify and to demonize our fears, although we still persistently contrast what we call the evil and the good. still do we attempt to propitiate and appease the adversaries. still do we carry the ban of the early philosophy that assumed materials and "the flesh" to be evil, and that found a way of escape only in renunciation and asceticism. nature cannot be antagonistic to man, seeing that man is a product of nature. we should find vast joy in the fellowship, something like the joy of pan. we should feel the relief when we no longer apologize for the creator because of the things that are made. it is true that there are devastations of flood and fire and frost, scourge of disease, and appalling convulsions of earthquake and eruption. but man prospers; and we know that the catastrophes are greatly fewer than the accepted bounties. we have no choice but to abide. no growth comes from hostility. it would undoubtedly be a poor human race if all the pathway had been plain and easy. the contest with nature is wholesome, particularly when pursued in sympathy and for mastery. it is worthy a being created in god's image. the earth is perhaps a stern earth, but it is a kindly earth. most of our difficulty with the earth lies in the effort to do what perhaps ought not to be done. not even all the land is fit to be farmed. a good part of agriculture is to learn how to adapt one's work to nature, to fit the crop-scheme to the climate and to the soil and the facilities. to live in right relation with his natural conditions is one of the first lessons that a wise farmer or any other wise man learns. we are at pains to stress the importance of conduct; very well: conduct toward the earth is an essential part of it. nor need we be afraid of any fact that makes one fact more or less in the sum of contacts between the earth and the earth-born children. all "higher criticism" adds to the faith rather than subtracts from it, and strengthens the bond between. the earth and its products are very real. our outlook has been drawn very largely from the abstract. not being yet prepared to understand the conditions of nature, man considered the earth to be inhospitable, and he looked to the supernatural for relief; and relief was heaven. our pictures of heaven are of the opposites of daily experience,--of release, of peace, of joy uninterrupted. the hunting-grounds are happy and the satisfaction has no end. the habit of thought has been set by this conception, and it colors our dealings with the human questions and to much extent it controls our practice. but we begin to understand that the best dealing with problems on earth is to found it on the facts of earth. this is the contribution of natural science, however abstract, to human welfare. heaven is to be a real consequence of life on earth; and we do not lessen the hope of heaven by increasing our affection for the earth, but rather do we strengthen it. men now forget the old images of heaven, that they are mere sojourners and wanderers lingering for deliverance, pilgrims in a strange land. waiting for this rescue, with posture and formula and phrase, we have overlooked the essential goodness and quickness of the earth and the immanence of god. this feeling that we are pilgrims in a vale of tears has been enhanced by the wide-spread belief in the sudden ending of the world, by collision or some other impending disaster, and in the common apprehension of doom; and lately by speculations as to the aridation and death of the planet, to which all of us have given more or less credence. but most of these notions are now considered to be fantastic, and we are increasingly confident that the earth is not growing old in a human sense, that its atmosphere and its water are held by the attraction of its mass, and that the sphere is at all events so permanent as to make little difference in our philosophy and no difference in our good behavior. i am again impressed with the first record in genesis in which some mighty prophet-poet began his account with the creation of the physical universe. so do we forget the old-time importance given to mere personal salvation, which was permission to live in heaven, and we think more of our present situation, which is the situation of obligation and of service; and he who loses his life shall save it. we begin to foresee the vast religion of a better social order. _the earth is holy_ verily, then, the earth is divine, because man did not make it. we are here, part in the creation. we cannot escape. we are under obligation to take part and to do our best, living with each other and with all the creatures. we may not know the full plan, but that does not alter the relation. when once we set ourselves to the pleasure of our dominion, reverently and hopefully, and assume all its responsibilities, we shall have a new hold on life. we shall put our dominion into the realm of morals. it is now in the realm of trade. this will be very personal morals, but it will also be national and racial morals. more iniquity follows the improper and greedy division of the resources and privileges of the earth than any other form of sinfulness. if god created the earth, so is the earth hallowed; and if it is hallowed, so must we deal with it devotedly and with care that we do not despoil it, and mindful of our relations to all beings that live on it. we are to consider it religiously: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. the sacredness to us of the earth is intrinsic and inherent. it lies in our necessary relationship and in the duty imposed upon us to have dominion, and to exercise ourselves even against our own interests. we may not waste that which is not ours. to live in sincere relations with the company of created things and with conscious regard for the support of all men now and yet to come, must be of the essence of righteousness. this is a larger and more original relation than the modern attitude of appreciation and admiration of nature. in the days of the patriarchs and prophets, nature and man shared in the condemnation and likewise in the redemption. the ground was cursed for adam's sin. paul wrote that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain, and that it waiteth for the revealing. isaiah proclaimed the redemption of the wilderness and the solitary place with the redemption of man, when they shall rejoice and blossom as the rose, and when the glowing sand shall become a pool and the thirsty ground springs of water. the usual objects have their moral significance. an oak-tree is to us a moral object because it lives its life regularly and fulfils its destiny. in the wind and in the stars, in forest and by the shore, there is spiritual refreshment: and the spirit of god moved upon the face of the waters. i do not mean all this, for our modern world, in any vague or abstract way. if the earth is holy, then the things that grow out of the earth are also holy. they do not belong to man to do with them as he will. dominion does not carry personal ownership. there are many generations of folk yet to come after us, who will have equal right with us to the products of the globe. it would seem that a divine obligation rests on every soul. are we to make righteous use of the vast accumulation of knowledge of the planet? if so, we must have a new formulation. the partition of the earth among the millions who live on it is necessarily a question of morals; and a society that is founded on an unmoral partition and use cannot itself be righteous and whole. second, the consequences i have now stated my purpose; and the remainder of the little book will make some simple applications of it and draw some inferences therefrom. there is nothing here that need alarm the timid, albeit we enter a disputed field, a field of opinion rather than of demonstration; and if the reader goes with me, i trust that we may have a pleasant journey. it is to be a journey of recognition, not of protest. it is needful that we do not forget. we are not to enter into a course of reasoning with those whom we meet on the way, or to pause to debate the definitions and analyses made in books, or to deny any of the satisfactions of tradition. we shall be ready for impressions; and possibly we shall be able to find some of the old truths in unfrequented places. _the habit of destruction_ the first observation that must be apparent to all men is that our dominion has been mostly destructive. we have been greatly engaged in digging up the stored resources, and in destroying vast products of the earth for some small kernel that we can apply to our necessities or add to our enjoyments. we excavate the best of the coal and cast away the remainder; blast the minerals and metals from underneath the crust, and leave the earth raw and sore; we box the pines for turpentine and abandon the growths of limitless years to fire and devastation; sweep the forests with the besom of destruction; pull the fish from the rivers and ponds without making any adequate provision for renewal; exterminate whole races of animals; choke the streams with refuse and dross; rob the land of its available stores, denuding the surface, exposing great areas to erosion. nor do we exercise the care and thrift of good housekeepers. we do not clean up our work or leave the earth in order. the remnants and accumulation of mining-camps are left to ruin and decay; the deserted phosphate excavations are ragged, barren, and unfilled; vast areas of forested lands are left in brush and waste, unthoughtful of the future, unmindful of the years that must be consumed to reduce the refuse to mould and to cover the surface respectably, uncharitable to those who must clear away the wastes and put the place in order; and so thoughtless are we with these natural resources that even the establishments that manufacture them--the mills, the factories of many kinds--are likely to be offensive objects in the landscape, unclean, unkempt, displaying the unconcern of the owners to the obligation that the use of the materials imposes and to the sensibilities of the community for the way in which they handle them. the burden of proof seems always to have been rested on those who partake little in the benefits, although we know that these non-partakers have been real owners of the resources; and yet so undeveloped has been the public conscience in these matters that the blame--if blame there be--cannot be laid on one group more than on the other. strange it is, however, that we should not have insisted at least that those who appropriate the accumulations of the earth should complete their work, cleaning up the remainders, leaving the areas wholesome, inoffensive, and safe. how many and many are the years required to grow a forest and to fill the pockets of the rocks, and how satisfying are the landscapes, and yet how desperately soon may men reduce it all to ruin and to emptiness, and how slatternly may they violate the scenery! all this habit of destructiveness is uneconomic in the best sense, unsocial, unmoral. society now begins to demand a constructive process. with care and with regard for other men, we must produce the food and the other supplies in regularity and sufficiency; and we must clean up after our work, that the earth may not be depleted, scarred, or repulsive. yet there is even a more defenseless devastation than all this. it is the organized destructiveness of those who would make military domination the major premise in the constitution of society, accompanying desolation with viciousness and violence, ravaging the holy earth, disrespecting the works of the creator, looking toward extirpation, confessing thereby that they do not know how to live in co-operation with their fellows; in such situations, every new implement of destruction adds to the guilt. in times past we were moved by religious fanaticism, even to the point of waging wars. to-day we are moved by impulses of trade, and we find ourselves plunged into a war of commercial frenzy; and as it has behind it vaster resources and more command of natural forces, so is it the most ferocious and wasteful that the race has experienced, exceeding in its havoc the cataclysms of earthquake and volcano. certainly we have not yet learned how to withstand the prosperity and the privileges that we have gained by the discoveries of science; and certainly the morals of commerce has not given us freedom or mastery. rivalry that leads to arms is a natural fruit of unrestrained rivalry in trade. man has dominion, but he has no commission to devastate: and the lord god took the man, and put him into the garden of eden to dress it and to keep it. verily, so bountiful hath been the earth and so securely have we drawn from it our substance, that we have taken it all for granted as if it were only a gift, and with little care or conscious thought of the consequences of our use of it. _the new hold_ we may distinguish three stages in our relation to the planet, the collecting stage, the mining stage, and the producing stage. these overlap and perhaps are nowhere distinct, and yet it serves a purpose to contrast them. at first man sweeps the earth to see what he may gather,--game, wood, fruits, fish, fur, feathers, shells on the shore. a certain social and moral life arises out of this relation, seen well in the woodsmen and the fishers--in whom it best persists to the present day--strong, dogmatic, superstitious folk. then man begins to go beneath the surface to see what he can find,--iron and precious stones, the gold of ophir, coal, and many curious treasures. this develops the exploiting faculties, and leads men into the uttermost parts. in both these stages the elements of waste and disregard have been heavy. finally, we begin to enter the productive stage, whereby we secure supplies by controlling the conditions under which they grow, wasting little, harming not. farming has been very much a mining process, the utilizing of fertility easily at hand and the moving-on to lands unspoiled of quick potash and nitrogen. now it begins to be really productive and constructive, with a range of responsible and permanent morals. we rear the domestic animals with precision. we raise crops, when we will, almost to a nicety. we plant fish in lakes and streams to some extent but chiefly to provide more game rather than more human food, for in this range we are yet mostly in the collecting or hunter stage. if the older stages were strongly expressed in the character of the people, so will this new stage be expressed; and so is it that we are escaping the primitive and should be coming into a new character. we shall find our rootage in the soil. this new character, this clearer sense of relationship with the earth, should express itself in all the people and not exclusively in farming people and their like. it should be a popular character--or a national character if we would limit the discussion to one people--and not a class character. now, here lies a difficulty and here is a reason for writing this book: the population of the earth is increasing, the relative population of farmers is decreasing, people are herding in cities, we have a city mind, and relatively fewer people are brought into touch with the earth in any real way. so is it incumbent on us to take special pains--now that we see the new time--that all the people, or as many of them as possible, shall have contact with the earth and that the earth righteousness shall be abundantly taught. i hasten to say that i am not thinking of any back-to-the-farm movement to bring about the results we seek. necessarily, the proportion of farmers will decrease. not so many are needed, relatively, to produce the requisite supplies from the earth. agriculture makes a great contribution to human progress by releasing men for the manufactures and the trades. in proportion as the ratio of farmers decreases is it important that we provide them the best of opportunities and encouragement: they must be better and better men. and if we are to secure our moral connection with the planet to a large extent through them, we can see that they bear a relation to society in general that we have overlooked. even the farming itself is changing radically in character. it ceases to be an occupation to gain sustenance and becomes a business. we apply to it the general attitudes of commerce. we must be alert to see that it does not lose its capacity for spiritual contact. how we may achieve a more wide-spread contact with the earth on the part of all the people without making them farmers, i shall endeavor to suggest as i proceed; in fact, this is my theme. dominion means mastery; we may make the surface of the earth much what we will; we can govern the way in which we shall contemplate it. we are probably near something like a stable occupancy. it is not to be expected that there will be vast shifting of cities as the contest for the mastery of the earth proceeds,--probably nothing like the loss of tyre and carthage, and of the commercial glory of venice. in fact, we shall have a progressive occupancy. the greater the population, the greater will be the demands on the planet; and, moreover, every new man will make more demands than his father made, for he will want more to satisfy him. we are to take from the earth much more than we have ever taken before, but it will be taken in a new way and with better intentions. it will be seen, therefore, that we are not here dealing narrowly with an occupation but with something very fundamental to our life on the planet. we are not to look for our permanent civilization to rest on any species of robber-economy. no flurry of coal-mining, or gold-fever, or rubber-collecting in the tropics, or excitement of prospecting for new finds or even locating new lands, no ravishing of the earth or monopolistic control of its bounties, will build a stable society. so is much of our economic and social fabric transitory. it is not by accident that a very distinct form of society is developing in the great farming regions of the mississippi valley and in other comparable places; the exploiting and promoting occupancy of those lands is passing and a stable progressive development appears. we have been obsessed of the passion to cover everything at once, to skin the earth, to pass on, even when there was no necessity for so doing. it is a vast pity that this should ever have been the policy of government in giving away great tracts of land by lottery, as if our fingers would burn if we held the lands inviolate until needed by the natural process of settlement. the people should be kept on their lands long enough to learn how to use them. but very well: we have run with the wind, we have staked the lands; now we shall be real farmers and real conquerors. not all lands are equally good for farming, and some lands will never be good for farming; but whether in iowa, or new england, or old asia, farming land may develop character in the people. my reader must not infer that we have arrived at a permanent agriculture, although we begin now to see the importance of a permanent land occupancy. probably we have not yet evolved a satisfying husbandry that will maintain itself century by century, without loss and without the ransacking of the ends of the earth for fertilizer materials to make good our deficiencies. all the more is it important that the problem be elevated into the realm of statesmanship and of morals. neither must he infer that the resources of the earth are to be locked up beyond contact and use (for the contact and use will be morally regulated). but no system of brilliant exploitation, and no accidental scratching of the surface of the earth, and no easy appropriation of stored materials can suffice us in the good days to come. city, country, this class and that class, all fall and merge before the common necessity. it is often said that the farmer is our financial mainstay; so in the good process of time will he be a moral mainstay, for ultimately finance and social morals must coincide. the gifts are to be used for service and for satisfaction, and not for wealth. very great wealth introduces too many intermediaries, too great indirectness, too much that is extrinsic, too frequent hindrances and superficialities. it builds a wall about the man, and too often does he receive his impressions of the needs of the world from satellites and sycophants. it is significant that great wealth, if it contributes much to social service, usually accomplishes the result by endowing others to work. the gift of the products of the earth was "for meat": nothing was said about riches. yet the very appropriation or use of natural resources may be the means of directing the mind of the people back to the native situations. we have the opportunity to make the forthcoming development of water-power, for example, such an agency for wholesome training. whenever we can appropriate without despoliation or loss, or without a damaging monopoly, we tie the people to the backgrounds. in the background is the countryman; and how is the countryman to make use of the rain and the abounding soil, and the varied wonder of plant and animal amidst which he lives, that he may arrive at kinship? we are teaching him how to bring some of these things under the dominion of his hands, how to measure and to weigh and to judge. this will give him the essential physical mastery. but beyond this, how shall he take them into himself, how shall he make them to be of his spirit, how shall he complete his dominion? how shall he become the man that his natural position requires of him? this will come slowly, ah, yes!--slowly. the people--the great striving self-absorbed throng of the people--they do not know what we mean when we talk like this, they hear only so many fine words. the naturist knows that the time will come slowly,--not yet are we ready for fulfilment; he knows that we cannot regulate the cosmos, or even the natural history of the people, by enactments. slowly: by removing handicaps here and there; by selection of the folk in a natural process, to eliminate the unresponsive; by teaching, by suggestion; by a public recognition of the problem, even though not one of us sees the end of it. i hope my reader now sees where i am leading him. he sees that i am not thinking merely of instructing the young in the names and habits of birds and flowers and other pleasant knowledge, although this works strongly toward the desired end; nor of any movement merely to have gardens, or to own farms, although this is desirable provided one is qualified to own a farm; nor of rhapsodies on the beauties of nature. nor am i thinking of any new plan or any novel kind of institution or any new agency; rather shall we do better to escape some of the excessive institutionalism and organization. we are so accustomed to think in terms of organized politics and education and religion and philanthropies that when we detach ourselves we are said to lack definiteness. it is the personal satisfaction in the earth to which we are born, and the quickened responsibility, the whole relation, broadly developed, of the man and of all men,--it is this attitude that we are to discuss. the years pass and they grow into centuries. we see more clearly. we are to take a new hold. _the brotherhood relation_ a constructive and careful handling of the resources of the earth is impossible except on a basis of large co-operation and of association for mutual welfare. the great inventions and discoveries of recent time have extensive social significance. yet we have other relations than with the physical and static materials. we are parts in a living sensitive creation. the theme of evolution has overturned our attitude toward this creation. the living creation is not exclusively man-centred: it is bio-centric. we perceive the essential continuity in nature, arising from within rather than from without, the forms of life proceeding upwardly and onwardly in something very like a mighty plan of sequence, man being one part in the process. we have genetic relation with all living things, and our aristocracy is the aristocracy of nature. we can claim no gross superiority and no isolated self-importance. the creation, and not man, is the norm. even now do we begin to guide our practises and our speech by our studies of what we still call the lower creation. we gain a good perspective on ourselves. if we are parts in the evolution, and if the universe, or even the earth, is not made merely as a footstool, or as a theatre for man, so do we lose our cosmic selfishness and we find our place in the plan of things. we are emancipated from ignorance and superstition and small philosophies. the present wide-spread growth of the feeling of brotherhood would have been impossible in a self-centred creation: the way has been prepared by the discussion of evolution, which is the major biological contribution to human welfare and progress. this is the philosophy of the oneness in nature and the unity in living things. _the farmer's relation_ the surface of the earth is particularly within the care of the farmer. he keeps it for his own sustenance and gain, but his gain is also the gain of all the rest of us. at the best, he accumulates little to himself. the successful farmer is the one who produces more than he needs for his support; and the overplus he does not keep; and, moreover, his own needs are easily satisfied. it is of the utmost consequence that the man next the earth shall lead a fair and simple life; for in riotous living he might halt many good supplies that now go to his fellows. it is a public duty so to train the farmer that he shall appreciate his guardianship. he is engaged in a quasi-public business. he really does not even own his land. he does not take his land with him, but only the personal development that he gains from it. he cannot annihilate his land, as another might destroy all his belongings. he is the agent or the representative of society to guard and to subdue the surface of the earth; and he is the agent of the divinity that made it. he must exercise his dominion with due regard to all these obligations. he is a trustee. the productiveness of the earth must increase from generation to generation: this also is his obligation. he must handle all his materials, remembering man and remembering god. a man cannot be a good farmer unless he is a religious man. if the farmer is engaged in a quasi-public business, shall we undertake to regulate him? this relationship carries a vast significance to the social order, and it must color our attitude toward the man on the land. we are now in that epoch of social development when we desire to regulate by law everything that is regulatable and the other things besides. it is recently proposed that the congress shall pass a law regulating the cropping scheme of the farmer for the protection of soil fertility. this follows the precedent of the regulation, by enactment, of trusts and public utilities. it is fortunate that such a law cannot be passed, and could not be enforced if it were passed; but this and related proposals are crude expressions of the growing feeling that the farmer owes an obligation to society, and that this obligation must be enforced and the tiller of the soil be held to account. we shall produce a much better and safer man when we make him self-controlling by developing his sense of responsibility than when we regulate him by exterior enactments. in the realm of control of the farming occupation we shall invoke other than legal means, and perhaps these means will be suggestive for other situations. these means may be somewhat indefinite in the law-book sense, but they may attain to a better human result. we shall reach the question by surer ways than the crudities of legislation. we shall reach the man, in this field, rather than his business. we have begun it by accepting it as one part of our duty to the race to provide liberally at public expense for the special education of the man on the land. this is the reason, even if we have not formulated it to ourselves, why society is willing to go farther in the education of the farming people than in the popular education of other ranges of the people. this, of course, is the fundamental way; and if there are any governments that attempt to safeguard this range directly by laws rather than by education, then they have not arrived at a long view of the situation. we invoke regulatory law for the control of the corporate activities; but we must not forget the other kinds of activities contributing to the making of society, nor attempt to apply to them the same methods of correction. into this secular and more or less technical education we are now to introduce the element of moral obligation, that the man may understand his peculiar contribution and responsibility to society; but this result cannot be attained until the farmer and every one of us recognize the holiness of the earth. the farmer and every one of us: every citizen should be put right toward the planet, should be quicked to his relationship to his natural background. the whole body of public sentiment should be sympathetic with the man who works and administers the land for us; and this requires understanding. we have heard much about the "marginal man," but the first concern of society should be for the bottom man. if this philosophy should really be translated into action, the farmer would nowhere be a peasant, forming merely a caste, and that a low one, among his fellows. he would be an independent co-operating citizen partaking fully of the fruits of his labor, enjoying the social rewards of his essential position, being sustained and protected by a body of responsive public opinion. the farmer cannot keep the earth for us without an enlightened and very active support from every other person, and without adequate safeguards from exploitation and from unessential commercial pressure. this social support requires a ready response on the part of the farmer; and he must also be developed into his position by a kind of training that will make him quickly and naturally responsive to it. the social fascination of the town will always be greater than that of the open country. the movements are more rapid, more picturesque, have more color and more vivacity. it is not to be expected that we can overcome this fascination and safeguard the country boy and girl merely by introducing more showy or active enterprises into the open country. we must develop a new background for the country youth, establish new standards, and arouse a new point of view. the farmer will not need all the things that the city man thinks the farmer needs. we must stimulate his moral response, his appreciation of the worthiness of the things in which he lives, and increase his knowledge of all the objects and affairs amongst which he moves. the backbone of the rural question is at the bottom a moral problem. we do not yet know whether the race can permanently endure urban life, or whether it must be constantly renewed from the vitalities in the rear. we know that the farms and the back spaces have been the mother of the race. we know that the exigencies and frugalities of life in these backgrounds beget men and women to be serious and steady and to know the value of every hour and of every coin that they earn; and whenever they are properly trained, these folk recognize the holiness of the earth. for some years i have had the satisfaction to speak to rural folk in many places on the holy earth and to make some of the necessary applications. everywhere i have met the heartiest assent from these people. specially do they respond to the suggestion that if the earth is hallowed, so are the native products of the earth hallowed; and they like to have the mystery--which is the essential sentiment--of these things brought home to them with frequency. i will here let my reader have a letter that one of these persons wrote me, and i print it without change. on inquiry, the writer of it told me that he is a farmer, has never followed any other occupation, was brought up "in the woods," and has had practically no education. i did not ask him, but i judge from the narrative style that he has been a reader or a hearer of the old testament; and here is the letter: as you say, too many people confound farming, with that sordid, selfish, money-getting game, called "business," whereas, the farmer's position is administrative, being in a way a dispenser of the "mysteries of god," for they are mysteries. every apple is a mystery, and every potato is a mystery, and every ear of corn is a mystery, and every pound of butter is a mystery, and when a "farmer" is not able to understand these things he is out of place. the farmer uses the soil and the rains and the snows and the frosts and the winds and the sun; these are also the implements of the almighty, the only tools he uses, and while you were talking that day, it brought to mind the recollection of an account i once read of an occurrence which took place in the vicinity of carlsruhe, in germany, about thirty years ago, and i want to tell you about it. an old man and his two sons, who were laborers on a large farm there, went out one morning to mow peas, with scythes, as was the method in use at that time, and soon after they began work, they noticed a large active man coming along a pathway which bordered the field on one side, and when he came to where they were, he spoke to them, very pleasantly, and asked them some questions about their work and taking the scythe from the hands of the older man he mowed some with it and finally returned it and went his way. after a time when the owner of the farm came out to oversee the work they told him of the occurrence, and asked him if he could tell who the stranger might be, and he told them that he was prince bismarck, the chancellor of the empire, who was staying at his country home at carlsruhe, and was out for his morning walk, and they were astonished, and the old man was filled with a great pride, and he felt himself elevated above all his fellows, and he wouldn't have sold his scythe for half the money in germany, and his descendants to this day boast of the fact that their father and bismarck mowed with the same scythe. now if it was sufficient to stimulate the pride of this old laborer, if it was sufficient to create for him a private aristocracy, if it was sufficient to convert that old rusty scythe into a priceless heirloom to be treasured up and transmitted from father to son, if it was sufficient for all these things that he had once held a momentarily unimportant association with the man of "blood and iron," how much more inconceivably and immeasurably high and exalted is the station of the farmer who is, in a measure, a fellow craftsman of the god of nature, of the great first cause of all things, and people don't know it. no wonder the boys leave the farm! _the underlying training of a people_ this, then, is the landsman's obligation, and his joyful privilege. but it must not be supposed that he alone bears the responsibility to maintain the holiness of the divine earth. it is the obligation also of all of us, since every one is born to the earth and lives upon it, and since every one must react to it to the extent of his place and capabilities. this being so, then it is a primary need that we shall place at the use of the people a kind of education that shall quicken these attachments. certainly all means of education are useful, and every means should be developed to its best; and it is not to be expected that all the people shall pursue a single means: but to the nation and to the race a fundamental training must be provided. we are now in the time of developing a technical education in agriculture, to the end that we may produce our land supplies. already this education is assuming broad aspects, and we begin to see that it has very important bearing on public policies. it is a new form of exercise in natural science,--the old education in this great realm having become so specialized and departmentalized as to lose much of its value as a means of popular training. it is a happy augury that in north america so many public men and administrators have taken the large view of education by means of agriculture, desiring, while training farmers or those who would be farmers, to make it a means of bringing the understanding of the people back to the land. the americans are making a very remarkable contribution here, in a spirit of real statesmanship. in the long run, this procedure will produce a spirit in the people that will have far-reaching importance in the development of national character, and in a relation to the backgrounds of which very few of us yet have vision. it will be fortunate if we can escape the formalizing and professionalizing of this education, that has cast such a blight on most of the older means of training the young, and if we can keep it democratic and free in spirit. we shall need to do the same in all the subjects that lie at the foundations,--in all the other crafts; all these crafts are of the earth. they support the physical man and the social fabric, and make the conditions out of which all the highest achievements may come. every person in a democracy has a right to be educated by these means; and a people living in a democracy must of necessity understand the significance of such education. this education should result or function politically. it is not sufficient to train technically in the trades and crafts and arts to the end of securing greater economic efficiency,--this may be accomplished in a despotism and result in no self-action on the part of the people. every democracy must reach far beyond what is commonly known as economic efficiency, and do everything it can to enable those in the backgrounds to maintain their standing and their pride and to partake in the making of political affairs. _the neighbor's access to the earth_ when one really feels the response to the native earth, one feels also the obligation and the impulse to share it with the neighbor. the earth is not selfish. it is open and free to all. it invites everywhere. the naturist is not selfish,--he shares all his joys and discoveries, even to the extent of publishing them. the farmer is not selfish with his occupation,--he freely aids every one or any one to engage in his occupation, even if that one becomes his competitor. but occupations that are some degrees removed from the earth may display selfishness; trade and, to a large extent, manufacture are selfish, and they lock themselves in. even the exploiting of the resources of the earth may be selfish, in the taking of the timber and the coal, the water-powers and the minerals, for all this is likely to develop to a species of plunder. the naturist desires to protect the plants and the animals and the situations for those less fortunate and for those who come after. there are lumbermen and miners with the finest sense of obligation. there are other men who would take the last nugget and destroy the last bole. we are to recognize the essential integrity of the farming occupation, when developed constructively, as contrasted with the vast system of improbity and dishonor that arises from depredation and from the taking of booty. the best kind of community interest attaches to the proper use and partitioning of the earth, a communism that is dissociated from propaganda and programs. the freedom of the earth is not the freedom of license: there is always the thought of the others that are dependent on it. it is the freedom of utilization for needs and natural desires, without regard to one's place among one's fellows, or even to one's condition of degradation or state of sinfulness. all men are the same when they come back to the meadows, to the hills, and to the deep woods: he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust. the lesson of the growing abounding earth is of liberality for all, and never exploitation or very exclusive opportunities for the few. even if the weaker anywhere perish in the contest for food, they are nevertheless given the opportunity to contest on terms equal to their abilities; and at all events, we come, in the human sphere, to the domination of sweet reason rather than to competition in sheer force. when, by means of reasonable education, this simple relation is understood by mankind and begins to express itself spontaneously, we shall find our voluminous complex of laws to regulate selfishness gradually disappearing and passing into the limbo. it is now easy to understand the sinfulness of vast private estates that shut up expanses of the surface of the earth from the reach and enjoyment of others that are born similarly to the privileges of the planet. there is no warrant in nature for guarantee deeds to such estates. it is true, of course, that land-estates should not be equal, for capacities for use are not equal, and abilities and deserts are not equal. it is legitimate to reward those who otherwise render great service, and this reward may lie in unusual privileges. the present emoluments in the way of incomes bear little relation to service or even to merit. we have not yet escaped the idea that vested rights--and particularly personal realty--are inviolable. certainly these rights must be protected by law, otherwise there can be no stability and regularity in affairs; but there is no inalienable right in the ownership of the surface of the earth. readjustments must come, and even now they are coming slowly, and here and there in the interest of the neighbor; and in the end there will be no private monopoly of public or natural resources. the cure for these ills does not lie, however, in the ownership of all the land by "the government," at least not in our time and perhaps never. it is well for a person to have his own plot for his lifetime, with the right to use it as he will so long as he does not offend, or does not despoil it for those who follow: it steadies him, and it identifies him with a definite program in life. we usually speak as if all good results in the distribution of the natural bounty will ensue if "the government" or "the state" owns the resources; but government ownership of resources and direction of industries may not mean freedom or escape for the people. it depends entirely on the kind of government,--not on its name or description, but on the extent to which the people have been trained to partake on their own initiative. the government may be an autocracy or only another form of monopoly. the aristocracy of land has much to its credit. great gains in human accomplishment have come out of it; but this does not justify it for the future. the aristocracy of land is a very dangerous power in human affairs. it is all the more dangerous when associated with aristocracy of birth and of factitious social position, which usually accompany it. a people may be ever so free in its advantages and in its theoretical political organization, and yet suffer overwhelming bondage if its land is tied up in an aristocratic system, and particularly if that system is connected into a social aristocracy. and whenever rigid aristocracy in land connects itself with the close control of politics, the subjection becomes final and complete. what lies within a nation or a people may lie in enlarged form between the nations or the peoples. neighborliness is international. contest for land and sea is at the basis of wars. recognizing the right of any people to its own life, we must equally recognize its right to a sufficient part of the surface of the earth. we must learn how to subdivide it on the basis of neighborliness, friendship, and conference; if we cannot learn this, then we cannot be neighbors but only enemies. the proposal now before congress to cede to canada the alaskan panhandle, or a part of it, is an evidence of this growth of international morals, extended to the very basis on which nations have been the least ready to co-operate. if we may fraternalize territory, so shall we fraternalize commerce. no people may rightly be denied the privilege to trade with all other peoples. all kinds of useful interchange are civilizers and peacemakers; and if we carry ourselves to others when we carry our produce and our wares, so do any of us need that others shall bring their produce and their wares to us. it would be a sorry people that purchased no supplies from without. every people, small or large, has right of access to the sea, for the sea belongs to mankind. it follows that no people has a right to deprive any other people of the shore, if that people desires the contact. we now begin to understand the awful sin of partitioning the earth by force. _the subdividing of the land_ the question then arises whether lands and other natural resources shall now be divided and redistributed in order that the share-and-share of the earth's patrimony shall be morally just. undoubtedly the logic of the situation makes for many personal points of very close contact with the mother earth, and contact is usually most definite and best when it results from what we understand as ownership. this, in practice, suggests many small parcels of land--for those who would have their contact by means of land, which is the directest means--under personal fee. but due provision must always be made, as i have already indicated, for the man who makes unusual contribution to the welfare of his fellows, that he may be allowed to extend his service and attain his own full development; and moreover, an established order may not be overturned suddenly and completely without much damage, not only to personal interests but to society. every person should have the right and the privilege to a personal use of some part of the earth; and naturally the extent of his privilege must be determined by his use of it. it is urged that lands can be most economically administered in very large units and under corporate management; but the economic results are not the most important results to be secured, although at present they are the most stressed. the ultimate good in the use of land is the development of the people; it may be better that more persons have contact with it than that it shall be executively more effectively administered. the morals of land management is more important than the economics of land management; and of course my reader is aware that by morals i mean the results that arise from a right use of the earth rather than the formal attitudes toward standardized or conventional codes of conduct. if the moral and the economic ends can be secured simultaneously, as eventually they will be secured, the perfect results will come to pass; but any line of development founded on accountant economics alone will fail. here i must pause for an explanation in self-defense, for my reader may think i advise the "little farm well tilled" that has so much captured the public mind. so far from giving such advice, i am not thinking exclusively of farming when i speak of the partitioning of the land. one may have land merely to live on. another may have a wood to wander in. one may have a spot on which to make a garden. another may have a shore, and another a retreat in the mountains or in some far space. much of the earth can never be farmed or mined or used for timber, and yet these supposed waste places may be very real assets to the race: we shall learn this in time. i am glad to see these outlying places set aside as public reserves; and yet we must not so organize and tie up the far spaces as to prevent persons of little means from securing small parcels. these persons should have land that they can handle and manipulate, in which they may dig, on which they may plant trees and build cabins, and which they may feel is theirs to keep and to master, and which they are not obliged to "improve." in the parks and reserves the land may be available only to look at, or as a retreat in which one may secure permission to camp. the regulations are necessary for these places, but these places are not sufficient. if it were possible for every person to own a tree and to care for it, the good results would be beyond estimation. now, farming is a means of support; and in this case, the economic possibilities of a particular piece of land are of primary consequence. of course, the most complete permanent contact with the earth is by means of farming, when one makes a living from the land; this should produce better results than hunting or sport; but one must learn how to make this connection. it is possible to hoe potatoes and to hear the birds sing at the same time, although our teaching has not much developed this completeness in the minds of the people. i hope, therefore, that the farmer's piece of land will be economically good (that it may make him a living and produce a surplus for some of the rest of us), and that the farmer may be responsive to his situation. the size of the farm that is to support a family, and the kinds of crops that shall be grown and even the yields that shall be secured to the acre, are technical problems of agriculture. in this new world, with expensive labor and still with cheap land, we cannot yet afford to produce the high yields of some of the old world places,--it may be better to till more land with less yield to the acre. but all this is aside from my present purpose; and this purpose is to suggest the very real importance of making it possible for an increasing proportion of the people to have close touch with the earth in their own rights and in their own names. we recognize different grades or kinds of land occupancy, some of it being proprietorship and some of it tenancy and some of it mere shareholding. thus far have we spoken of the partitioning of the land mostly in its large social and political relations; but to society also belongs the fertility of the land, and all efforts to conserve this fertility are public questions in the best sense. in america we think of tenant occupancy of land as dangerous because it does not safeguard fertility; in fact, it may waste fertility. this is because the practice in tenancy does not recognize the public interest in fertility, and the contract or agreement is made merely between the landowner and the tenant, and is largely an arrangement for skinning the land. it is only when the land itself is a party in the contract (when posterity is considered) that tenancy is safe. then the tenant is obliged to fertilize the land, to practise certain rotations, and otherwise to conserve fertility, returning to the land the manurial value of products that are sold. when such contracts are made and enforced, tenancy farming does not deplete the land more than other farming, as the experience in some countries demonstrates. it is hardly to be expected, however, that tenant occupancy will give the man as close moral contact with the earth and its materials as will ownership; yet a well-developed tenancy is better than absentee farming by persons who live in town and run the farm by temporary hired help. the tenancy in the united states is partly a preliminary stage to ownership: if we can fulfil the moral obligation to society in the conserving of fertility and other natural resources, tenancy may be considered as a means to an end. persons who work the land should have the privilege of owning it. it may be urged by those who contend that land should be held by society, that this regulation of tenancy provides a means of administering all farm lands by government in the interest of maintenance of fertility. leaving aside the primary desirability, as i see it, of reserving individual initiative, it is to be said that this kind of regulation of the tenant is possible only with a live-stock husbandry; nor do we yet have sufficient knowledge to enable us to project a legal system for all kinds of agriculture; nor again is it applicable to widely differing conditions and regions. a keener sense of responsibility will enable owner and tenant to work out better methods in all cases, but it is now impossible to incorporate complete control methods into successful legislative regulations. the increasing competition will make it ever more difficult for the careless man to make a good living by farming, and he will be driven from the business; or if he is not driven out, society will take away his privilege. yet we are not to think of society as founded wholly on small separate tracts, or "family farms," occupied by persons who live merely in contentment; this would mean that all landsmen would be essentially laborers. we need to hold on the land many persons who possess large powers of organization, who are managers, who can handle affairs in a bold way: it would be fatal to the best social and spiritual results if such persons could find no adequate opportunities on the land and were forced into other occupations. undoubtedly we shall find ourselves with very unlike land units, encouraged and determined by the differing conditions and opportunities in different regions; and thereby shall we also avoid the great danger of making our fundamental occupation to produce a uniform and narrow class spirit. we need the great example of persons who live separately on their lands, who desire to abide, who are serious in the business, and who have sufficient proprietary rights to enable them to handle the natural resources responsibly. there is a type of well-intentioned writers that would have the farmers live in centres in order that they may have what are called "social" advantages, betaking themselves every morning to the fields when the dew is on the grass and the birds sing, hastening back every evening (probably when the clock points to five) to engage in the delightful delirium of card-parties and moving-picture shows (of course gathering the golden harvest in the meantime). other writers are to have the farms so small that the residences will be as close as on a village street, and a trolley-car will run through, and i suppose the band will play! _a new map_ if, then, we are to give the people access to the holy earth, it means not only a new assent on the part of society but a new way of partitioning the surface. this is true whether we consider the subject wholly from the view-point of making natural resources utilizable or from the added desire to let the people out to those resources. the organization of any affair or enterprise determines to a great extent the character of the result; and the organization rests directly on the subdivision into parts. the dividing of a business into separate responsibilities of different departments and sub-departments makes for easy access and for what we now know as efficiency; the dividing of a nation into states or provinces and counties and many lesser units makes political life possible; the setting off of a man's farm into fields, with lanes and roads connecting, makes a working enterprise. the more accurately these subdivisions follow natural and living necessities, the greater will be the values and the satisfactions that result from the undertaking. here is the open country, behind the great cities and the highly specialized industries. there are hills in it, great and small. there are forests here, none there; sands that nobody wants; fertile lands that everybody wants; shores inviting trade; mineral wealth; healing waters; power in streams; fish in ponds and lakes; building stone; swamps abounding in life; wild corners that stimulate desire; sceneries that take the soul into the far places. these are the fundamental reserves and the backgrounds. the first responsibility of any society is to protect them, husband them, bring them into use, and at the same time to teach the people what they mean. to bring them into use, and, at the same time, to protect them from rapacious citizens who have small social conscience, it is necessary to have good access. it is necessary to have roads. these roads should be laid where the resources exist, direct, purposeful. in a flat and uniform country, road systems may well be rectangular, following section-lines and intermediate lines; but the rectangularity is not the essential merit,--it is only a serviceable way of subdividing the resources. to find one's direction, north or south, is convenient, but it may clearly be subordinated to the utilization and protection of the supplies. the section-line division may accomplish this or it may not, and it is likely to place roads in wrong locations and to render the country monotonous and uninteresting. but in the broken country, in the country of tumbled hills and crooked falling streams, of slopes that would better be left in the wild, and of lands that are good and fruitful for the plow, the roads may go the easy grades; but they ought also to go in such a plan as to open up the country to the best development, to divide its resources in the surest way for the greatest number of persons, and to reduce profitless human toil to the minimum,--and this is just what they may not do. they may go up over bare and barren hills merely to pass a few homesteads where no homesteads ought to be, roads that are always expensive and never good, that accomplish practically nothing for society. they leave good little valleys at one side, or enter them over almost impossible slopes. there are resources of physical wealth and of wonderful scenery that they do not touch, that would be of much value if they were accessible. the farming country is often not divided in such a way as to render it either most readily accessible or to make it the most useful as an asset for the people. to connect villages and cities by stone roads is good. but what are we to do with all the back country, to make it contribute its needful part to feed the people in the days that are to come, and to open it to the persons who ought to go? we cannot accomplish this to the greatest purpose by the present road systems, even if the roads themselves are all made good. when the traveler goes to a strange country, he is interested in the public buildings, the cities, and some of the visible externals; but if he wants to understand the country, he must have a detailed map of its roads. the automobile maps are of no value for this purpose, for they show how one may pass over the country, not how the country is developed. as the last nerve-fibre and the last capillary are essential to the end of the finger and to the entire body, so the ultimate roads are essential to the myriad farms and to the national life. it is difficult in any country to get these maps, accurately and in detail; but they are the essential guidebooks. we undertake great conquests of engineering, over mountains and across rivers and through the morasses; but at the last we shall call on the engineer for the greatest conquest of all,--how to divide the surface of the earth so that it shall yield us its best and mean to us the most, on the easiest grades, in the most practicable way, that we may utilize every piece of land to fullest advantage. this means a new division and perhaps a redistribution of lands in such a way that the farmer will have his due proportion of hill and of valley, rather than that one shall have all valley and another all hard-scrabble on the hill or all waste land in some remote place. it means that there will be on each holding the proper relation of tilled land and pasture land and forest land, and that the outlets for the farmer and his products will be the readiest and the simplest that it is possible to make. it means that some roads will be abandoned entirely, as not worth the cost, and society will make a way for farmers living on impossible farms to move to other lands; and that there will be no "back roads," for they will be the marks of an undeveloped society. it means that we shall cease the pretense to bring all lands into farming, whether they are useful for farming or not; and that in the back country beyond the last farms there shall be trails that lead far away. in the farm region itself, much of the old division will pass away, being uneconomical and non-social. the abandonment of farms is in some cases a beginning of the process, but it is blind and undirected. our educational effort is at present directed toward making the farmer prosperous on his existing farm, rather than to help him to secure a farm of proper resources and with proper access. as time goes on, we must reassemble many of the land divisions, if each man is to have adequate opportunity to make the most effective application of his knowledge, the best use of himself, and the greatest possible contribution to society. it would be well if some of the farms could be dispossessed of their owners, so that areas might be recombined on a better basis. this is no utopian or socialistic scheme, nor does it imply a forcible interference with vested rights. it is a plain statement of the necessities of the situation. of course it cannot come about quickly or as a result of direct legislation; but there are various movements that may start it,--it is, in fact, already started. all the burning rural problems relate themselves in the end to the division of the land. in america, we do not suffer from the holding of the land in a few families or in an aristocratic class; that great danger we have escaped, but we have not yet learned how to give the land meaning to the greatest number of people. this is a question for the best political program, for we look for the day when statesmanship shall be expressed in the details of common politics. we now hear much about the good-roads question, as if it were a problem only of highway construction: it is really a question of a new map. _the public program_ it would be a great gain if many persons could look forward to the ownership of a bit of the earth, to share in the partition, to partake in the brotherhood. some day we shall make it easy rather than difficult for this to be brought about. society, in its collective interest, also has necessities in the land. there is necessity of land to be owned by cities and other assemblages for water reservoirs, and all the rights thereto; for school grounds, playgrounds, reformatory institutions, hospitals, drill grounds, sewage-disposal areas, irrigation developments, drainage reclamations; for the public control of banks and borders of streams and ponds, for the shores of all vast bodies of water, for pleasure parks, recreation, breathing spaces in the great congestions, highways and other lines of communication; for the sites of public buildings, colleges and experiment stations, bird and beast refuges, fish and game reservations, cemeteries. there are also the rights of many semi-public agencies that need land,--of churches, of fraternal organizations, of incorporated seminaries and schools, of water-power and oil and coal developments, of manufacturing establishments, of extensive quarries, and of commercial enterprises of very many kinds. there is also the obligation of the general government that it shall have reserves against future needs, and that it shall protect the latent resources from exploitation and from waste. great areas must be reserved for forests, as well as for other crops, and, in the nature of the case, these forest spaces in the future must be mostly in public ownership. great remainders should be held by the people to be sold in small parcels to those who desire to get out to the backgrounds but who do not want to be farmers, where they may spend a vacation or renew themselves in the soil or under the trees, or by the green pastures or along the everlasting streams. it is a false assumption which supposes that if land cannot be turned into products of sale it is therefore valueless. the present active back-to-the-land movement has meaning to us here. it expresses the yearning of the people for contact with the earth and for escape from complexity and unessentials. as there is no regular way for attaining these satisfactions, it has largely taken the form of farming, which occupation has also been re-established in popular estimation in the same epoch. it should not be primarily a back-to-the-farm movement, however, and it is not to be derided. we are to recognize its meaning and to find some way of enabling more of the people to stand on the ground. aside from all this, land is needed for human habitation, where persons may have space and may have the privilege of gathering about them the goods that add value to life. much land will be needed in future for this habitation, not only because there will be more people, but also because every person will be given an outlet. we know it is not right that any family should be doomed to the occupancy of a very few dreary rooms and deathly closets in the depths of great cities, seeing that all children are born to the natural sky and to the wind and to the earth. we do not yet see the way to allow them to have what is naturally theirs, but we shall learn how. in that day we shall take down the wonderful towers and cliffs in the cities, in which people work and live, shelf on shelf, but in which they have no home. the great city expansion in the end will be horizontal rather than perpendicular. we shall have many knots, clustered about factories and other enterprises, and we shall learn how to distribute the satisfactions in life rather than merely to assemble them. before this time comes, we shall have passed the present insistence on so-called commercial efficiency, as if it were the sole measure of a civilization, and higher ends shall come to have control. all this will rest largely on the dividing of the land. it is the common assumption that the solution of these problems lies in facilities of transportation, and, to an extent, this is true; but this assumption usually rests on the other assumption, that the method of the present city vortex is the method of all time, with its violent rush into the vortex and out of it, consuming vastly of time and energy, preventing home leisure and destroying locality feeling, herding the people like cattle. the question of transportation is indeed a major problem, but it must be met in part by a different philosophy of human effort, settling the people in many small or moderate assemblages rather than in a few mighty congestions. it will be better to move the materials than to move the people. the great cities will grow larger; that is, they will cover more land. the smaller cities, the villages, the country towns will take on greatly increased importance. we shall learn how to secure the best satisfactions when we live in villages as well as when we live in cities. we begin to plan our cities and to a small extent our villages. we now begin to plan the layout of the farms, that they may accomplish the best results. but the cities and the towns depend on the country that lies beyond; and the country beyond depends on the city and the town. the problem is broadly one problem,--the problem of so dividing and subdividing the surface of the earth that there shall be the least conflict between all these interests, that public reservations shall not be placed where it is better to have farms, that farming developments may not interfere with public utilities, that institutions may be so placed and with such area as to develop their highest usefulness, that the people desiring outlet and contact with the earth in their own right may be accorded that essential privilege. we have not yet begun to approach the subject in a fundamental way, and yet it is the primary problem of the occupancy of the planet. to the growing movement for city planning should be added an equal movement for country planning; and these should not proceed separately, but both together. no other public program is now more needed. _the honest day's work_ there is still another application of this problem of the land background. it is the influence that productive ownership exerts on the day's work. yesterday for some time i observed eight working men engaged in removing parts of a structure and loading the pieces on a freight-car. at no time were more than two of the men making any pretension of working at once, most of the time they were all visiting or watching passers-by, and in the whole period the eight men did not accomplish what one good honest man should have performed. i wondered whether they had sufficient exercise to keep them in good health. they apparently were concerned about their "rights"; if the employer had rights they were undiscoverable. we know the integrity and effectiveness of the body of workmen; yet any reader who has formed a habit of observing men on day work and public work will recognize my account. day men usually work in gangs, frequently too many of them to allow any one to labor effectively, and the whole process is likely to be mechanical, impersonal, often shiftless and pervaded with the highly developed skill of putting in the time and reducing the time to the minimum and of beginning to quit well in advance of the quitting time. the process of securing labor has become involved, tied up, and the labor is not rendered in a sufficient spirit of service. about the only free labor yet remaining to us is the month labor on the farm, even though it may be difficult to secure and be comprised largely of ineffective remainders. over against all this is the importance of setting men at work singly and for themselves; this can be accomplished only when they own their property or have some real personal share in the production. the gang-spirit of labor runs into the politics of the group and constitutes the norm. if we are to have self-acting men they must be removed from close control, in labor as well as elsewhere. if it is necessary that any great proportion of the laboring men shall be controlled, then is it equally important that other men in sufficient numbers shall constitute the requisite counterbalance and corrective. it is doubtful whether any kind of profit-sharing in closely controlled industries can ever be as effective in training responsible men for a democracy, other things being equal, as an occupation or series of occupations in which the worker is responsible for his own results rather than to an overseer, although the profit-sharing may for the time being develop the greater technical efficiency. the influence of ownership on the performance of the man is often well illustrated when the farm laborer or tenant becomes the proprietor. some of my readers will have had experience in the difficult and doubtful process of trying to "run a farm" at long range by means of ordinary hired help: the residence is uninhabitable; the tools are old and out of date, and some of them cannot be found; the well water is not good; the poultry is of the wrong breed, and the hens will not sit; the horses are not adapted to the work; the wagons must be painted and the harnesses replaced; the absolutely essential supplies are interminable; there must be more day labor. now let this hired man come into the ownership of the farm: presto! the house can be repaired at almost no cost; the tools are good for some years yet; the harnesses can easily be mended; the absolutely essential supplies dwindle exceedingly; and the outside labor reduces itself to minor terms. work with machinery, in factories, may proceed more rapidly because the operator must keep up with the machine; and there are also definite standards or measures of performance. yet even here it is not to be expected that the work will be much more than time-service. in fact, the very movement among labor is greatly to emphasize time-service, and often quite independently of justice. there must necessarily be a reaction from this attitude if we are to hope for the best human product. the best human product results from the bearing of responsibility; in a controlled labor body the responsibility is shifted to the organization or to the boss. assuredly the consolidating of labor is much to be desired if it is for the common benefit and for protection, and if it leaves the laborer free with his own product. every person has the inalienable right to express himself, so long as it does not violate similar rights of his fellows, and to put forth his best production; if a man can best express himself in manual labor, no organization should suppress him or deny him that privilege. it is a sad case, and a denial of fundamental liberties, if a man is not allowed to work or to produce as much as he desires. good development does not come from repression. society recognizes its obligation to the laboring man of whatever kind and the necessity of safeguarding him both in his own interest and because he stands at the very foundations; the laboring man bears an obligation to respond liberally with service and good-will. is it desirable to have an important part of the labor of a people founded on ownership? is it worth while to have an example in a large class of the population of manual work that is free-spirited, and not dominated by class interest and time-service? is it essential to social progress that a day's work shall be full measure? _the group reaction_ one of the interesting phenomena of human association is the arising of a certain standard or norm of moral action within the various groups that compose it. these standards may not be inherently righteous, but they become so thoroughly established as to be enacted into law or even to be more powerful than law. so is it, as we have seen, with the idea of inalienable rights in natural property that may be held even out of all proportion to any proper use that the owners may be able to make of it; and so is it with the idea of inviolable natural privileges to those who control facilities that depend on public patronage for their commercial success. the man himself may hold one kind of personal morals, but the group of which he is a part may hold a very different kind. it is our problem, in dealing with the resources of the earth, to develop in the group the highest expression of duty that is to be found in individuals. the restraint of the group, or the correction of the group action, is applied from the outside in the form of public opinion and in attack by other groups. the correction does not often arise from within. the establishing of many kinds of public-service bodies illustrates this fact. it is the check of society on group-selfishness. these remarks apply to the man who stands at the foundation of society, next the earth, as well as to others, although he has not organized to propagate the action of his class. the spoliation of land, the insufficient regard for it, the trifling with it, is much more than an economic deficiency. society will demand either through the pressure of public opinion, or by regularized action, that the producing power of the land shall be safeguarded and increased, as i have indicated in an earlier part of the discussion. it will be better if it comes as the result of education, and thereby develops the voluntary feeling of obligation and responsibility. at the same time, it is equally the responsibility of every other person to make it possible for the farmer to prosecute his business under the expression of the highest standards. there is just now abroad amongst us a teaching to the effect that the farmer cannot afford to put much additional effort into his crop production, inasmuch as the profit in an acre may not depend on the increase in yield, and therefore he does not carry an obligation to augment his acre-yields. this is a weakening philosophy. undoubtedly there is a point beyond which he may not go with profit in the effort to secure a heavy yield, for it may cost him too much to produce the maximum; so it may not be profitable for a transportation company to maintain the highest possible speed. with this economic question i have nothing to do; but it is the farmer's moral responsibility to society to increase his production, and the stimulation reacts powerfully upon himself. it is a man's natural responsibility to do his best: it is specially important that the man at the bottom put forth his best efforts. to increase his yields is one of the ways in which he expresses himself as a man and applies his knowledge. this incentive taken away, agriculture loses one of its best endeavors, the occupation remains stationary or even deteriorates, and society loses a moral support at the very point where it is most needed. if the economic conditions are such that the farmer cannot afford to increase his production, then the remedy is to be found without rather than by the repression of the producer. we are expending vast effort to educate the farmer in the ways of better production, but we do not make it possible for him to apply this education to the best advantage. the real farmer, the one whom we so much delight to honor, has a strong moral regard for his land, for his animals, and his crops. these are established men, with highly developed obligations, feeling their responsibility to the farm on which they live. no nation can long persist that does not have this kind of citizenry in the background. i have spoken of one phase of the group reaction, as suggested in the attitude of the farmer. it may be interesting to recall, again, the fact that the purpose of farming is changing. the farmer is now adopting the outlook and the moral conduct of commerce. his business is no longer to produce the supplies for his family and to share the small overplus with society. he grows or makes a certain line of produce that he sells for cash, and then he purchases his other supplies in the general market. the days of homespun are gone. the farmer is as much a buyer as a seller. commercial methods and standards are invading the remotest communities. this will have far-reaching results. perhaps a fundamental shift in the moral basis of the agricultural occupations is slowly under way. the measuring of farming in terms of yields and incomes introduces a dangerous standard. it is commonly assumed that state moneys for agriculture-education may be used only for "practical"--that is, for dollars-and-cents--results, and the emphasis is widely placed very exclusively on more alfalfa, more corn, more hogs, more fruit, on the two-blades-of-grass morals; and yet the highest good that can accrue to a state for the expenditure of its money is the raising up of a population less responsive to cash than to some other stimuli. the good physical support is indeed essential, but it is only the beginning of a process. i am conscious of a peculiar hardness in some of the agriculture-enterprise, with little real uplook; i hope that we may soon pass this cruder phase. undoubtedly we are in the beginning of an epoch in rural affairs. we are at a formative period. we begin to consider the rural problem increasingly in terms of social groups. the attitudes that these groups assume, the way in which they react to their problems, will be determined in the broader aspects for some time to come by the character of the young leadership that is now taking the field. _the spiritual contact with nature_ a useful contact with the earth places man not as superior to nature but as a superior intelligence working in nature as a conscious and therefore as a responsible part in a plan of evolution, which is a continuing creation. it distinguishes the elemental virtues as against the acquired, factitious, and pampered virtues. these strong and simple traits may be brought out easily and naturally if we incorporate into our schemes of education the solid experiences of tramping, camping, scouting, farming, handcraft, and other activities that are not mere refinements of subjective processes. lack of training in the realities drives us to find satisfaction in all sorts of make-believes and in play-lives. the "movies" and many other developments of our time make an appeal wholly beyond their merits, and they challenge the methods and intentions of education. there are more fundamental satisfactions than "thrills." there is more heart-ease in frugality than in surfeit. there is no real relish except when the appetite is keen. we are now provided with all sorts of things that nobody ever should want. the good spiritual reaction to nature is not a form of dogmatism or impressionism. it results normally from objective experience, when the person is ready for it and has good digestion. it should be the natural emotion of the man who knows his objects and does not merely dream about them. there is no hallucination in it. the remedy for some of the erratic "futurism" and other forms of illusion is to put the man hard against the facts: he might be set to studying bugs or soils or placed between the handles of a plow until such time as objects begin to take their natural shape and meaning in his mind. it is not within my purview here to consider the abstract righteous relation of man to the creation, nor to examine the major emotions that result from a contemplation of nature. it is only a very few of the simpler and more practical considerations that i may suggest. the training in solid experience naturally emphasizes the righteousness of plain and simple eating and drinking, and of frugality and control in pleasures. many of the adventitious pleasures are in the highest degree pernicious and are indications of weakness. considering the almost universal opinion that nature exhibits the merciless and relentless struggle of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, it is significant that one of the most productive ways of training a youth in sensitiveness and in regard for other creatures is by means of the nature contact. even if the person is taught that the strong and ferocious survive and conquer, he nevertheless soon comes to have the tenderest regard for every living thing if he has the naturist in him. he discards the idea that we lose virility when we cease to kill, and relegates the notion to the limbo of deceits. this only means that unconsciously he has experienced the truth in nature, and in practice has discarded the erroneous philosophy contained in books even though he may still give these philosophies his mental assent. it is exactly among the naturists that the old instinct to kill begins to lose its force and that an instinct of helpfulness and real brotherhood soon takes its place. from another source, the instinct to kill dies out among the moralists and other people. and yet it is passing strange how this old survival--or is it a reversion?--holds its place amongst us, even in the higher levels. the punishment of a life for a life is itself a survival. entertainment even yet plays upon this old memory of killing, as in books of adventure, in fiction, in playgames of children, and worst of all on the stage where this strange anachronism, even in plays that are not historic, is still portrayed in pernicious features and in a way that would rouse any community and violate law if it were enacted in real life. it is difficult to explain these survivals when we pretend to be so much shocked by the struggle for existence. we must accept the struggle, but we ought to try to understand it. the actual suffering among the creatures as the result of this struggle is probably small, and the bloody and ferocious contest that we like to picture to ourselves is relatively insignificant. there is a righteous element in the struggle; or, more truthfully, the struggle itself is right. every living and sentient thing persists by its merit and by its right. it persists within its sphere, and usually not in the sphere of some other creature. the weeding-out process is probably related in some way with adaptability, but only remotely with physical strength. it is a process of applying the test. the test is applied continuously, and not in some violent upheaval. if one looks for a moral significance in the struggle for existence, one finds it in the fact that it is a process of adjustment rather than a contest in ambition. the elimination of the unessentials and of the survivals of a lower order of creation that have no proper place in human society, is the daily necessity of the race. the human struggle should not be on the plane of the struggle in the lower creation, by the simple fact that the human plane is unlike; and those who contend that we should draw our methods of contest from wild nature would therefore put us back on the plane of the creatures we are supposed to have passed. if there is one struggle of the creeping things, if there is one struggle of the fish of the sea and another of the beasts of the field, and still another of the fowls of the air, then surely there must be still another order for those who have dominion. _the struggle for existence: war_ we may consider even further, although briefly, the nature of the struggle for existence in its spiritual relation. it would be violence to assume a holy earth and a holy production from the earth, if the contest between the creatures seems to violate all that we know as rightness. the notion of the contentious and sanguinary struggle for existence finds its most pronounced popular expression in the existence of human war. it is a wide-spread opinion that war is necessary in the nature of things, and, in fact, it has been not only justified but glorified on this basis. we may here examine this contention briefly, and we may ask whether, in the case of human beings, there are other sufficient means of personal and social development than by mortal combat with one's fellows. we may ask whether the principle of enmity or the principle of fellow feeling is the more important and controlling. we are not to deny or even to overlook the great results that have come from war. virile races have forced themselves to the front and have impressed their stamp on society; the peoples have been mixed and also assorted; lethargic folk have been galvanized into activity; iron has been put into men's sinews; heroic deeds have arisen; old combinations and intrigues have been broken up (although new ones take their place). a kind of national purification may result from a great war. the state of human affairs has been brought to its present condition largely as the issue of wars. on the other hand, we are not to overlook the damaging results, the destruction, the anguish, the check to all productive enterprise, the hatred and revenge, the hypocrisy and deceit, the despicable foreign spy system, the loss of standards, the demoralization, the lessening respect and regard for the rights of the other, the breeding of human parasites that fatten at the fringes of disaster, the levying of tribute, the setting up of unnatural boundaries, the thwarting of national and racial developments which, so far as we can see, gave every promise of great results. we naturally extol the nations that have survived; we do not know how many superior stocks may have been sacrificed to military conquest, or how many racial possibilities may have been suppressed in their beginnings. vast changes in mental attitudes may result from a great war, and the course of civilization may be deflected; and while we adjust ourselves to these changes, no one may say at the time that they are just or even that they are temporarily best. we are never able at the moment to measure the effects of the unholy conquest of peoples who should not have been conquered; these results work themselves out in tribulation and perhaps in loss of effort and of racial standards through many weary centuries. force, or even "success," cannot justify theft. but even assuming the great changes that have arisen from war, this is not a justification of war; it only states a fact, it only provides a measure of the condition of society at any epoch. it is probable that war will still exert a mighty even if a lessening influence; it may still be necessary to resort to arms to win for a people its natural opportunity and to free a race from bondage; and if any people has a right to its own existence, it has an equal right and indeed a duty to defend itself. but this again only indicates the wretched state of development in which we live. undoubtedly, also, a certain amount of military training is very useful, but there should be other ways, in a democracy, to secure something of this needful training. the struggle for existence, as expressed in human combat, does not necessarily result in the survival of the most desirable, so far as we are able to define desirability. we are confusing very unlike situations in our easy application of the struggle for existence to war. the struggle is not now between individuals to decide the fitter; it is between vast bodies hurling death by wholesale. we pick the physically fit and send them to the battle-line; and these fit are slain. this is not the situation in nature from which we draw our illustrations. moreover, the final test of fitness in nature is adaptation, not power. adaptation and adjustment mean peace, not war. physical force has been immensely magnified in the human sphere; we even speak of the great nations as "powers," a terminology that some day we shall regret. the military method of civilization finds no justification in the biological struggle for existence. the final conquest of a man is of himself, and he shall then be greater than when he takes a city. the final conquest of a society is of itself, and it shall then be greater than when it conquers its neighboring society. man now begins to measure himself against nature also, and he begins to see that herein shall lie his greatest conquests beyond himself; in fact, by this means shall he conquer himself,--by great feats of engineering, by completer utilization of the possibilities of the planet, by vast discoveries in the unknown, and by the final enlargement of the soul; and in these fields shall be the heroes. the most virile and upstanding qualities can find expression in the conquest of the earth. in the contest with the planet every man may feel himself grow. what we have done in times past shows the way by which we have come; it does not provide a program of procedure for days that are coming; or if it does, then we deny the effective evolution of the race. we have passed witchcraft, religious persecution, the inquisition, subjugation of women, the enslavement of our fellows except alone enslavement in war. here i come particularly to a consideration of the struggle for existence. before i enter on this subject, i must pause to say that i would not of myself found an argument either for war or against it on the analogies of the struggle for existence. man has responsibilities quite apart from the conditions that obtain in the lower creation. man is a moral agent; animals and plants are not moral agents. but the argument for war is so often founded on this struggle in nature, that the question must be considered. it has been persistently repeated for years that in nature the weakest perish and that the victory is with the strong, meaning by that the physically powerful. this is a false analogy and a false biology. it leads men far astray. it is the result of a misconception of the teaching of evolution. our minds dwell on the capture and the carnage in nature,--the hawk swooping on its prey, the cat stealthily watching for the mouse, wolves hunting in packs, ferocious beasts lying in wait, sharks that follow ships, serpents with venomous fangs, the vast range of parasitism; and with the poet we say that nature is "red in tooth and claw." of course, we are not to deny the struggle of might against might, which is mostly between individuals, and of which we are all aware; but the weak and the fragile and the small are the organisms that have persisted. there are thousands of little and soft things still abundant in the world that have outlived the fearsome ravenous monsters of ages past; there were goliaths in those days, but the davids have outlived them, and gath is not peopled by giants. the big and strong have not triumphed. the struggle in nature is not a combat, as we commonly understand that word, and it is not warfare. the earth is not strewn with corpses. i was impressed in reading roosevelt's "african game trails" with the great extent of small and defenseless and fragile animal life that abounds in the midst of the terrible beasts,--little uncourageous things that hide in the crevices, myriads that fly in the air, those that ride on the rhinos, that swim and hide in the pools, and bats that hang in the acacia-trees. he travelled in the region of the lion, in the region that "holds the mightiest creatures that tread the earth or swim in its rivers; it also holds distant kinsfolk of these same creatures, no bigger than woodchucks, which dwell in crannies of the rocks, and in the tree tops. there are antelope smaller than hares and antelope larger than oxen. there are creatures which are the embodiment of grace; and others whose huge ungainliness is like that of a shape in a nightmare. the plains are alive with droves of strange and beautiful animals whose like is not known elsewhere." the lion is mighty; he is the king of beasts; but he keeps his place and he has no kingdom. he has not mastered the earth. no beast has ever overcome the earth; and the natural world has never been conquered by muscular force. nature is not in a state of perpetual enmity, one part with another. my friend went to a far country. he told me that he was most impressed with the ferocity, chiefly of wild men. it came my time to go to that country. i saw that men had been savage,--men are the most ferocious of animals, and the ferocity has never reached its high point of refined fury until to-day. (of course, savages fight and slay; this is because they are savages.) but i saw also that these savage men are passing away. i saw animals that had never tasted blood, that had no means of defense against a rapacious captor, and yet they were multiplying. every stone that i upturned disclosed some tender organism; every bush that i disturbed revealed some timid atom of animal life; every spot where i walked bore some delicate plant, and i recalled the remark of sir j. william dawson "that frail and delicate plants may be more ancient than the mountains or plains on which they live"; and if i went on the sea, i saw the medusæ, as frail as a poet's dream, with the very sunshine streaming through them, yet holding their own in the mighty upheaval of the oceans; and i reflected on the myriads of microscopic things that for untold ages had cast the very rock on which much of the ocean rests. the minor things and the weak things are the most numerous, and they have played the greatest part in the polity of nature. so i came away from that far country impressed with the power of the little feeble things. i had a new understanding of the worth of creatures so unobtrusive and so silent that the multitude does not know them. i saw protective colorings; i saw fleet wings and swift feet; i saw the ability to hide and to conceal; i saw habits of adaptation; i saw marvellous powers of reproduction. you have seen them in every field; you have met them on your casual walks, until you accept them as the natural order of things. and you know that the beasts of prey have not prevailed. the whole contrivance of nature is to protect the weak. we have wrongly visualized the "struggle." we have given it an intensely human application. we need to go back to darwin who gave significance to the phrase "struggle for existence." "i use this term," he said, "in a large and metaphorical sense, including dependence of one being on another, and including (which is more important) not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving progeny." the dependence of one being on another, success in leaving progeny,--how accurate and how far-seeing was darwin! i hope that i speak to naturists and to farmers. they know how diverse are the forms of life; and they know that somehow these forms live together and that only rarely do whole races perish by subjugation. they know that the beasts do not set forth to conquer, but only to gain subsistence and to protect themselves. the beasts and birds do not pursue indiscriminately. a hen-hawk does not attack crows or butterflies. even a vicious bull does not attack fowls or rabbits or sheep. the great issues are the issues of live and let-live. there are whole nations of plants, more unlike than nations of humankind, living together in mutual interdependence. there are nations of quiet and mightless animals that live in the very regions of the mighty and the stout. and we are glad it is so. consider the mockery of invoking the struggle for existence as justification for a battle on a june morning, when all nature is vibrant with life and competition is severe, and when, if ever, we are to look for strife. but the very earth breathes peace. the fulness of every field and wood is in complete adjustment. the teeming multitudes of animal and plant have found a way to live together, and we look abroad on a vast harmony, verdurous, prolific, abounding. into this concord, project your holocaust! _the daily fare_ some pages back, i said something about the essential simplicity in habit of life that results from the nature contact, and i illustrated the remark by calling attention to the righteousness of simple eating and drinking. of course, the eating must be substantial, but the adventitious appetites accomplish nothing and they may be not only intemperate and damaging to health but even unmoral. yet it is not alone the simplicity of the daily fare that interests me here, but the necessity that it shall be as direct as possible from the ground or the sea, and that it shall be undisguised and shall have meaning beyond the satisfying of the appetite. i was interested in tusser's "christmas husbandly fare," notwithstanding some suggestion of gluttony in it and of oversupply. there is a certain vigor and good relish about it, and lack of ostentation, that seem to suggest a lesson. it was more than three centuries ago that native thomas tusser, musician, chorister, and farmer, gave to the world his incomparable "five hundred points of good husbandry." he covered the farm year and the farm work as completely as vergil had covered it more than fifteen centuries before; and he left us sketches of the countryside of his day, and the ways of the good plain folk, and quaint bits of philosophy and counsel. he celebrated the christmas festival with much conviction, and in the homely way of the home folks, deriving his satisfactions from the things that the land produces. his sketches are wholesome reading in these days of foods transported from the ends of the earth, and compounded by impersonal devices and condensed into packages that go into every house alike. thomas tusser would celebrate with "things handsome to have, as they ought to be had." his board would not be scant of provisions, for he seems not to have advised the simple life in the way of things good to eat; but he chose good raw materials, and we can imagine that the "good husband and huswife" gave these materials their best compliments and prepared them with diligence and skill. not once does he suggest that these materials be secured from the market, or that any imported labor be employed in the preparation of them. "good bread and good drink, a good fire in the hall, brawn, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withal." here is the whole philosophy of the contented festival,--the fruit of one's labor, the common genuine materials, and the cheer of the family fireside. the day is to be given over to the spirit of the celebration; every common object will glow with a new consecration, and everything will be good,--even the mustard will be good withal. what a contempt old tusser would have had for all the imported and fabricated condiments and trivialities that now come to our tables in packages suggestive of medicines and drugs! and how ridiculously would they have stood themselves beside the brawn, pudding, and souse! a few plain accessories, every one stout and genuine, and in good quantity, must accompany the substantialities that one takes with a free hand directly from the land that one manages. it surprises us that he had such a bountiful list from which to draw, and yet the kinds are not more than might be secured from any good land property, if one set about securing them: "beef, mutton, and pork, shred pies of the best, pig, veal, goose, and capon, and turkey well drest, cheese, apples, and nuts, joly carols to hear, as then in the country, is counted good cheer." in these days we should draw less heavily on the meats, for in the three centuries we have gained greatly in the vegetable foods. tusser did not have the potato. but nevertheless, these materials are of the very bone of the land. they grow up with the year and out of the conditions, and they have all the days in them, the sunshine, the rain, the dew of morning, the wind, the cold foggy nights, and the work of laborious hands. every one of them means something to the person who raises them, and there is no impersonality in them. john's father drained the land when yet he was a boy; the hedges were set; long ago the place was laid out in its rotations; the old trees in the fields are a part of it; every stall in the stables and every window-seat in the old house hold memories; and john has grown up with these memories, and with these fields, and with the footpaths that lead out over brooks and amongst the herds of cattle. it is a part of his religion to keep the land well; and these supplies at christmas time are taken with a deep reverence for the goodness that is in them, and with a pride in having produced them. and thomas tusser, good husbandman, rejoiced that these bounties cost no cash: "what cost to good husband, is any of this? good household provision only it is. of other the like, i do leave out a many that costeth a husbandman never a penny." to farm well; to provide well; to produce it oneself; to be independent of trade, so far as this is possible in the furnishing of the table,--these are good elements in living. and in this day we are rapidly losing all this; many persons already have lost it; many have never known the satisfaction of it. most of us must live from the box and the bottle and the tin-can; we are even feeding our cattle from the factory and the bag. the farmer now raises a few prime products to sell, and then he buys his foods in the markets under label and tag; and he knows not who produced the materials, and he soon comes not to care. no thought of the seasons, and of the men and women who labored, of the place, of the kind of soil, of the special contribution of the native earth, come with the trademark or the brand. and so we all live mechanically, from shop to table, without contact, and irreverently. may we not once in the year remember the earth in the food that we eat? may we not in some way, even though we live in town, so organize our christmas festival that the thought of the goodness of the land and its bounty shall be a conscious part of our celebration? may we not for once reduce to the very minimum the supply of manufactured and sophisticated things, and come somewhere near, at least in spirit, to a "christmas husbandly fare?" yet, thomas tusser would not confine his husbandly fare to the christmas time. in another poem, he gives us "the farmer's daily diet," in which the sturdy products are still much the same, secured and prepared by those who partake. all this may be little applicable literally in our present living, and yet i think it is easily possible, as certainly it is very desirable, to develop a new attitude toward the table fare, avoiding much unnecessary and insignificant household labor and lending an attitude of good morality to the daily sustenance. much of our eating and feasting is a vicious waste of time, and also of human energy that might be put to good uses. one can scarcely conceive how such indirect and uncomfortable and expensive methods could have come into use. perhaps they originated with persons of quality in an aristocratic society, when an abundance of servants must be trained to serve and when distinctions in eating were a part of the distinction in rank. but to have introduced these laborious and unintelligent methods into hotels, where persons tarry for comfort and into homes that do not need to maintain an extrinsic appearance, is a vain and ludicrous imitation. the numbers of courses, with more service than food, that one often meets at the table d'hôte of the frequented hotels abroad, are most exasperating to one who values time and has a serious purpose in travel and a rightful care for the bodily apparatus. here is the performance--it was nothing more than a performance, consisting in repeated changing of all the dishes, the removing of every fragment of edibles, and in passing very small separate parcels of food--that it was my lot to endure on an otherwise happy day in a hotel that had little else to distinguish it: course . dry bread (no butter). removal. course . soup (nothing else). removal. course . fish (very economical), with a potato on the side. removal. course . veal, macaroni. removal. course . spoonful of green beans (nothing else). removal. course . beef and salad (fragmentary). removal. course . charlotte russe, bit of cake. removal. course . fruit (slight). removal. course . morsel of cheese, one cracker. removal. course . coffee. relief. the traveler knows that this species of time-wasting is not unusual; certainly the food is not unusual and does not merit such considerate attention, although it may profit by the magnification. all this contributes nothing to human efficiency--quite the reverse--and certainly nothing to the rightful gusto in the enjoyment of one's subsistence. it is a ceremony. such laborious uselessness is quite immoral. i am afraid that our food habits very well represent how far we have moved away from the essentials and how much we have misled ourselves as to the standards of excellence. i looked in a cookbook to learn how to serve potatoes: i found twenty-three recipes, every one of which was apparently designed to disguise the fact that they were potatoes; and yet there is really nothing in a potato to be ashamed of. of course, this kind of deception is not peculiar to cookery. it is of the same piece as the stamping of the metal building coverings in forms to represent brick and stone, although everybody knows that they are not brick and stone, rather than to make a design that shall express metal and thereby frankly tell the truth; of the same kind also as the casting of cement blocks to represent undressed rock, although every one is aware of the deception, rather than to develop a form that will express cement blocks as brick expresses brick; of the same order as the inflating of good wholesome water by carbonic gas; and all the other deceits in materials on which our common affairs are built. it is, of course, legitimate to present our foods in many forms that we may secure variety even with scant and common materials; but danger may lie in any untruthfulness with which we use the raw materials of life. so cookery has come to be a process of concealment. not only does it conceal the materials, but it also conceals the names of them in a ridiculous nomenclature. apparently, the higher the art of cookery, the greater is the merit of complete concealment. i think that one reason why persons enjoy the simple cooking of farmers and sailors and other elemental folk, is because of its comparative lack of disguise, although they may not be aware of this merit of it. we have so successfully disguised our viands through so many years that it is not "good form" to make inquiries: we may not smell the food, although the odor should be one of the best and most rightful satisfactions, as it is in fruits and flowers. we may smell a parsnip or a potato when it grows in the field, but not when it is cooked. we add the extrinsic and meaningless odors of spices and flavorings, forgetting that odor no less than music hath occasions; each of the materials has its own odor that the discriminating cook will try to bring out in its best expression. were we to be deprived of all these exotic seasonings, undoubtedly cookery would be the gainer in the end; nor could we so readily disguise materials that in themselves are not fit to eat. there is a reason why "all foods taste alike," as we often hear it said of the cooking in public places. moreover, we want everything that is out of season, necessitating great attention to the arts of preserving and requiring still further fabrication; and by this desire we also lessen the meaning of the seasons when they come in their natural sequence, bringing their treasure of materials that are adapted to the time and to the place. we can understand, then, why it so happens that we neglect the cookery of the common foods, as seeming to be not quite worth the while, and expend ourselves with so much effort on the accessories and the frills. i have been interested to observe some of the instruction in cooking,--how it often begins with little desserts, and fudge, and a variety of dib-dabs. this is much like the instruction in manual training that begins with formal and meaningless model work or trivialities and neglects the issues of life. it is much like some of the teaching in agriculture not so many years ago, before we attacked very effectively the serious problems of wheat and alfalfa and forests and markets. mastery does not lie in these pieces of play work, nor does the best intellectual interest on the part of the student reside in them. result is that one finds the greatest difficulty in securing a really good baked potato, a well-cooked steak, or a wholesome dish of apple-sauce that is not strained and flavored beyond recognition. it is nearly impossible for one to secure an egg fried hard and yet very tender and that has not been "turned" or scorched on the edges,--this is quite the test of the skill of the good cook. the notion that a hard fried egg is dangerously indigestible is probably a fable of poor cookery. one can secure many sophisticated and disguised egg dishes, but i think skill in plainly cooking eggs is almost an unknown art, perhaps a little-practised art. now, it is on these simple and essential things that i would start my instruction in cookery; and this not only for the gain to good eating but also for the advantage of vigor and good morals. i am afraid that our cooking does not set a good example before the young three times every day in the year; and how eager are the young and how amenable to suggestion at these three blessed epochs every day in the year! some unsympathetic reader will say that i am drawing a long bow; yet undoubtedly our cookery has prepared the public mind for the adulteration. knowing the elaboration of many of the foods and fancy dishes, the use of flavoring and spice and other additions to disguise unwholesome materials, the addition of coloring matter to make things attractive, the mixtures, the elaborate designs and trimmings and concoctions, and various deceptions, one wonders how far is the step from some of the cookery to some of the adulteration and whether these processes are really all of one piece. i will leave with my reader a paragraph assembled from a statement made by a food chemist but a few years ago, to let him compare adulteration with what is regarded as legitimate food preparation and note the essential similarity of many of the processes. i do not mean to enter the discussion of food adulteration, and i do not know whether these sophistications are true at the present day; but the statement describes a situation in which we found ourselves and indicates what had become a staggering infidelity in the use of the good raw materials. hamburg steak often contains sodium sulphite; bologna sausage and similar meats until recently usually contained a large percentage of added cereal. "pancake flour" often contains little if any buckwheat; wheat flour is bleached with nitric oxide to improve its appearance. fancy french peas are colored with sulphate of copper. bottled ketchup usually contains benzoate of soda as a preservative. japanese tea is colored with cyanide of potassium and iron. prepared mustard usually contains a large quantity of added starch and is colored with tumeric. ground coffee has recently been adulterated with roasted peas. so-called non-alcoholic bottled beverages often contain alcohol or a habit-forming drug and are usually colored with aniline. candy is commonly colored with aniline dye and often coated with paraffine to prevent evaporation. cheap candies contain such substances as glue and soapstone. the higher-priced kinds of molasses usually contain sulphites. flavoring extracts seldom are made from pure products and usually are artificially colored. jams are made of apple jelly with the addition of coloring matter and also of seeds to imitate berries from which they are supposed to be made; the cheap apple jelly is itself often imitated by a mixture of glucose, starch, aniline dye, and flavoring. lard nearly always contains added tallow. bakeries in large cities have used decomposed products, as decayed eggs. cheap ice-cream is often made of gelatin, glue, and starch. cottonseed-oil is sold for olive-oil. the poison saccharine is often used in place of sugar in prepared sweetened products. the attentive reader of the public prints in the recent years can greatly extend this humiliating recital if he choose. it is our habit to attach all the blame to the adulterators, and it is difficult to excuse them; but we usually find that there are contributory causes and certainly there must be reasons. has our daily fare been honest? _the admiration of good materials_ not even yet am i done with this plain problem of the daily fare. the very fact that it is daily--thrice daily--and that it enters so much into the thought and effort of every one of us, makes it a subject of the deepest concern from every point of view. the aspect of the case that i am now to reassert is the effect of much of our food preparation in removing us from a knowledge of the good raw materials that come out of the abounding earth. let us stop to admire an apple. i see a committee of the old worthies in some fruit-show going slowly and discriminatingly among the plates of fruits, discussing the shapes and colors and sizes, catching the fragrance, debating the origins and the histories, and testing them with the utmost precaution and deliberation; and i follow to hear their judgment. this kind of apple is very perfect in spherical form, deeply cut at the stem, well ridged at the shallow crater, beautifully splashed and streaked with carmine-red on a yellowish green under-color, finely flecked with dots, slightly russet on the shaded side, apparently a good keeper; its texture is fine-grained and uniform, flavor mildly subacid, the quality good to very good; if the tree is hardy and productive, this variety is to be recommended to the amateur for further trial! the next sample is somewhat elongated in form, rather below the average in color, the stem very long and well set and indicating a fruit that does not readily drop in windstorms, the texture exceedingly melting but the flavor slightly lacking in character and therefore rendering it of doubtful value for further test. another sample lacks decidedly in quality, as judged by the specimens on the table, and the exhibitor is respectfully recommended to withdraw it from future exhibitions; another kind has a very pronounced aromatic odor, which will commend it to persons desiring to grow a choice collection of interesting fruits; still another is of good size, very firm and solid, of uniform red color, slightly oblate and therefore lending itself to easy packing, quality fair to good, and if the tree bears such uniform samples as those shown on the table it apparently gives promise of some usefulness as a market sort. my older friends, if they have something of the feeling of the pomologist, can construct the remainder of the picture. in physical perfectness of form and texture and color, there is nothing in all the world that exceeds a well-grown fruit. let it lie in the palm of your hand. close your fingers slowly about it. feel its firm or soft and modelled surface. put it against your cheek, and inhale its fragrance. trace its neutral under-colors, and follow its stripes and mark its dots. if an apple, trace the eye that lies in a moulded basin. note its stem, how it stands firmly in its cavity, and let your imagination run back to the tree from which, when finally mature, it parted freely. this apple is not only the product of your labor, but it holds the essence of the year and it is in itself a thing of exquisite beauty. there is no other rondure and no other fragrance like this. i am convinced that we need much to cultivate this appreciation of the physical perfectness of the fruits that we grow. we cannot afford to lose this note from our lives, for this may contribute a good part of our satisfaction of being in the world. the discriminating appreciation that one applies to a picture or a piece of sculpture may be equally applied to any fruit that grows on the commonest tree or bush in our field or to any animal that stands on a green pasture. it is no doubt a mark of a well-tempered mind that it can understand the significance of the forms in fruits and plants and animals and apply it in the work of the day. i sometimes think that the rise of the culinary arts is banishing this fine old appreciation of fruits in their natural forms. there are so many ways of canning and preserving and evaporating and extracting the juices, so many disguises and so much fabrication, that the fruit is lost in the process. the tin-can and the bottle seem to have put an insuperable barrier between us and nature, and it is difficult for us to get back to a good munch of real apples under a tree or by the fireside. the difficulty is all the greater in our congested city life where orchards and trees are only a vacant memory or stories told to the young, and where the space in the larder is so small that apples must be purchased by the quart. the eating of good apples out of hand seems to be almost a lost art. only the most indestructible kinds, along with leather-skinned oranges and withered bananas, seem to be purchasable in the market. the discriminating apple-eater in the old world sends to a grower for samples of the kinds that he grows; and after the inquirer has tested them in the family, and discussed them, he orders his winter supply. the american leaves the matter to the cook and she orders plain apples; and she gets them. i wonder whether in time the perfection of fabrication will not reach such a point that some fruits will be known to the great public only by the picture on the package or on the bottle. every process that removes us one step farther from the earth is a distinct loss to the people, and yet we are rapidly coming into the habit of taking all things at second hand. my objection to the wine of the grape is not so much a question of abstinence as of the fact that i find no particular satisfaction in the shape and texture of a bottle. if one has a sensitive appreciation of the beauty in form and color and modelling of the common fruits, he will find his interest gradually extending to other products. some time ago i visited hood river valley in company with a rugged potato-grower from the rocky mountains. we were amazed at the wonderful scenery, and captivated by the beauty of the fruits. in one orchard the owner showed us with much satisfaction a brace of apples of perfect form and glowing colors. when the grower had properly expounded the marvels of hood river apples, which he said were the finest in the world, my friend thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a potato, and said to the man: "why is not that just as handsome as a hood river apple?" and sure enough it was. for twenty-five years this grower had been raising and selecting the old peachblow potato, until he had a form much more perfect than the old peachblow ever was, with a uniform delicate pink skin, smooth surface, comely shape, and medium size, and with eyes very small and scarcely sunken; and my hood river friend admitted that a potato as well as an apple may be handsome and satisfying to the hand and to the eye, and well worth carrying in one's pocket. but this was a high-bred potato, and not one of the common lot. this episode of the potato allows me another opportunity to enforce my contention that we lose the fruit or the vegetable in the processes of cookery. the customary practice of "mashing" potatoes takes all the individuality out of the product, and the result is mostly so much starch. there is an important dietary side to this. cut a thin slice across a potato and hold it to the light. note the interior undifferentiated mass, and then the thick band of rind surrounding it. the potato flavor and a large part of the nutriment lie in this exterior. we slice this part away and fry, boil, or otherwise fuss up the remainder. when we mash it, we go still farther and break down the potato texture; and in the modern method we squeeze and strain it till we eliminate every part of the potato, leaving only a pasty mass, which, in my estimation, is not fit to eat. the potato should be cooked with the rind on, if it is a good potato, and if it is necessary to remove the outer skin the process should be performed after the cooking. the most toothsome part of the potato is in these outer portions, if the tuber is well grown and handled. we have so sophisticated the potato in the modern disguised cookery that we often practically ruin it as an article of food, and we have bred a race of people that sees nothing to admire in a good and well-grown potato tuber. i now wish to take an excursion from the potato to the pumpkin. in all the range of vegetable products, i doubt whether there is a more perfect example of pleasing form, fine modelling, attractive texture and color, and more bracing odor, than in a well-grown and ripe field pumpkin. place a pumpkin on your table; run your fingers down its smooth grooves; trace the furrows to the poles; take note of its form; absorb its rich color; get the tang of its fragrance. the roughness and ruggedness of its leaves, the sharp-angled stem strongly set, make a foil that a sculptor cannot improve. then wonder how this marvellous thing was born out of your garden soil through the medium of one small strand of a succulent stem. we all recognize the appeal of a bouquet of flowers, but we are unaware that we may have a bouquet of fruits. we have given little attention to arranging them, or any study of the kinds that consort well together, nor have we receptacles in which effectively to display them. yet, apples and oranges and plums and grapes and nuts, and good melons and cucumbers and peppers and carrots and onions, may be arranged into the most artistic and satisfying combinations. i would fall short of my obligation if i were to stop with the fruit of the tree and say nothing about the tree or the plant itself. in our haste for lawn trees of new kinds and from the uttermost parts, we forget that a fruit-tree is ornamental and that it provides acceptable shade. a full-grown apple-tree or pear-tree is one of the most individual and picturesque of trees. the foliage is good, the blossoms as handsome as those of fancy imported things, the fruits always interesting, and the tree is reliable. nothing is more interesting than an orange tree, in the regions where it grows, with its shining and evergreen leaves and its continuing flowers and fruits. the practice of planting apples and pears and sweet cherries, and other fruit and nut trees, for shade and adornment is much to be commended in certain places. but the point i wish specially to urge in this connection is the value of many kinds of fruit-trees in real landscape work. we think of these trees as single or separate specimens, but they may be used with good result in mass planting, when it is desired to produce a given effect in a large area or in one division of a property. i do not know that any one has worked out full plans for the combining of fruit-trees, nuts, and berry-bearing plants into good treatments, but it is much to be desired that this shall be done. any of you can picture a sweep of countryside planted to these things that would be not only novel and striking, but at the same time conformable to the best traditions of artistic rendering. i think it should be a fundamental purpose in our educational plans to acquaint the people with the common resources of the region, and particularly with those materials on which we subsist. if this is accepted, then we cannot deprive our parks, highways, and school grounds of the trees that bear the staple fruits. it is worth while to have an intellectual interest in a fruit-tree. i know a fruit-grower who secures many prizes for his apples and his pears; when he secures a blue ribbon, he ties it on the tree that bore the fruit. the admiration of a good domestic animal is much to be desired. it develops a most responsible attitude in the man or the woman. i have observed a peculiar charm in the breeders of these wonderful animals, a certain poise and masterfulness and breadth of sympathy. to admire a good horse and to know just why he admires him is a great resource to any man, as also to feel the responsibility for the care and health of any flock or herd. fowls, pigs, sheep on their pastures, cows, mules, all perfect of their kind, all sensitive, all of them marvellous in their forms and powers,--verily these are good to know. if the raw materials grow out of the holy earth, then a man should have pride in producing them, and also in handling them. as a man thinketh of his materials, so doth he profit in the use of them. he builds them into himself. there is a wide-spread feeling that in some way these materials reflect themselves in a man's bearing. one type of man grows out of the handling of rocks, another out of the handling of fishes, another out of the growing of the products from the good earth. all irreverence in the handling of these materials that come out of the earth's bounty, and all waste and poor workmanship, make for a low spiritual expression. the farmer specially should be proud of his materials, he is so close to the sources and so hard against the backgrounds. moreover, he cannot conceal his materials. he cannot lock up his farm or disguise his crops. he lives on his farm, and visibly with his products. the architect does not live in the houses and temples he builds. the engineer does not live on his bridge. the miner does not live in his mine. even the sailor has his home away from his ship. but the farmer cannot separate himself from his works. every bushel of buckwheat and every barrel of apples and every bale of cotton bears his name; the beef that he takes to market, the sheep that he herds on his pastures, the horse that he drives,--these are his products and they carry his name. he should have the same pride in these--his productions--as another who builds a machine, or another who writes a book about them. the admiration of a field of hay, of a cow producing milk, of a shapely and fragrant head of cabbage, is a great force for good. it would mean much if we could celebrate the raw materials and the products. particularly is it good to celebrate the yearly bounty. the puritans recognized their immediate dependence on the products of the ground, and their celebration was connected with religion. i should be sorry if our celebrations were to be wholly secular. we have been much given to the display of fabricated materials,--of the products of looms, lathes, foundries, and many factories of skill. we also exhibit the agricultural produce, but largely in a crass and rude way to display bulk and to win prizes. we now begin to arrange our exhibitions for color effect, comparison, and educational influence. but we do not justly understand the natural products when we confine them to formal exhibitions. they must be incorporated into many celebrations, expressing therein the earth's bounty and our appreciation of it. the usual and common products, domesticated and wild, should be gathered in these occasions, and not for competition or for prize awards or even for display, but for their intrinsic qualities. an apple day or an apple sabbath would teach the people to express their gratitude for apples. the moral obligation to grow good apples, to handle them honestly, to treat the soil and the trees fairly and reverently, could be developed as a living practical philosophy into the working-days of an apple-growing people. the technical knowledge we now possess requires the moral support of a stimulated public appreciation to make it a thoroughly effective force. many of the products and crops lend themselves well to this kind of admiration, and all of them should awaken gratitude and reverence. sermons and teaching may issue from them. nor is it necessary that this gratitude be expressed only in collected materials, or that all preaching and all teaching shall be indoors. the best understanding of our relations to the earth will be possible when we learn how to apply our devotions in the open places. _the keeping of the beautiful earth_ the proper care-taking of the earth lies not alone in maintaining its fertility or in safeguarding its products. the lines of beauty that appeal to the eye and the charm that satisfies the five senses are in our keeping. the natural landscape is always interesting and it is satisfying. the physical universe is the source of art. we know no other form and color than that which we see in nature or derive from it. if art is true to its theme, it is one expression of morals. if it is a moral obligation to express the art-sense in painting and sculpture and literature and music, so is it an equal obligation to express it in good landscape. of the first importance is it that the race keep its artistic backgrounds, and not alone for the few who may travel far and near and who may pause deliberately, but also for those more numerous folk who must remain with the daily toil and catch the far look only as they labor. to put the best expression of any landscape into the consciousness of one's day's work is more to be desired than much riches. when we complete our conquest, there will be no unseemly landscapes. the abundance of violated landscapes is proof that we have not yet mastered. the farmer does not have full command of his situation until the landscape is a part of his farming. farms may be units in well-developed and pleasing landscapes, beautiful in their combinations with other farms and appropriate to their setting as well as attractive in themselves. no one has a moral right to contribute unsightly factory premises or a forbidding commercial establishment to any community. the lines of utility and efficiency ought also to be the lines of beauty; and it is due every worker to have a good landscape to look upon, even though its area be very constricted. to produce bushels of wheat and marvels of machinery, to maintain devastating military establishments, do not comprise the sum of conquest. the backgrounds must be kept. if moral strength comes from good and sufficient scenery, so does the preservation of it become a social duty. it is much more than a civic obligation. but the resources of the earth must be available to man for his use and this necessarily means a modification of the original scenery. some pieces and kinds of scenery are above all economic use and should be kept wholly in the natural state. much of it may yield to modification if he takes good care to preserve its essential features. unfortunately, the engineer seems not often to be trained in the values of scenery and he is likely to despoil a landscape or at least to leave it raw and unfinished. on the other hand, there is unfortunately a feeling abroad that any modification of a striking landscape is violation and despoliation; and unwarranted opposition, in some cases amounting almost to prudery, follows any needful work of utilization. undoubtedly the farmer and builder and promoter have been too unmindful of the effect of their interference on scenery, and particularly in taking little care in the disposition of wastes and in the healing of wounds; but a work either of farming or of construction may add interest and even lines of beauty to a landscape and endow it with the suggestion of human interest. if care were taken in the construction of public and semi-public work to reshape the banks into pleasing lines, to clean up, to care for, to plant, to erect structures of good proportions whether they cost much or little, and to give proper regard to the sensibilities of the communities, most of the present agitation against interference with natural scenery would disappear. one has only to visit the factory districts, the vacation resorts, the tenement areas, the banks of streams and gorges, to look at the faces of cliffs and at many engineering enterprises and at numberless farmyards, to find examples of the disregard of men for the materials that they handle. it is as much our obligation to hold the scenery reverently as to handle the products reverently. man found the earth looking well. humanity began in a garden. the keeping of the good earth depends on preservation rather than on destruction. the office of the farmer and the planter is to produce rather than to destroy; whatever they destroy is to the end that they may produce more abundantly; these persons are therefore natural care-takers. if to this office we add the habit of good housekeeping, we shall have more than one-third of our population at once directly partaking in keeping the earth. it is one of the bitter ironies that farmers should ever have been taken out of their place to wreak vengeance on the earth by means of military devastation. in the past, this ravage has been small in amount because the engines of destruction were weak, but with the perfecting of the modern enginery the havoc is awful and brutal. while we have to our credit the improvement of agriculture and other agencies of conservation, it is yet a fact that man has never been so destructive as now. he is able to turn the skill of his discovery to destructive ends (a subject that we have already approached from another point of view). the keeping of the earth is therefore involved in the organization of society. military power heads toward destructiveness. civil power heads toward conservation. the military power may be constructive in times of peace, but its end, if it uses the tools it invents, is devastation and the inflicting of injury. when the civil power is subjugated to the military power, society is headed toward calamity. to keep and to waste are opposite processes. not only are we able to despoil the earth by sheer lust of ravage and by blighting the fields with caverns of human slaughter, but we shoot away incredible supplies of copper and petroleum and other unrenewable materials that by every right and equity belong to our successors; and, moreover, we are to make these successors pay for the destruction of their heritage. day by day we are mortgaging the future, depriving it of supplies that it may need, burdening the shoulders of generations yet unborn. merely to make the earth productive and to keep it clean and to bear a reverent regard for its products, is the special prerogative of a good agriculture and a good citizenry founded thereon; this may seem at the moment to be small and ineffective as against mad impersonal and limitless havoc, but it carries the final healing; and while the land worker will bear much of the burden on his back he will also redeem the earth. _the tones of industry_ one of the clearest notes of our time is the recognition of the holiness of industry and the attempt to formulate the morals of it. we accept this fact indirectly by the modern endeavor to give the laboring man his due. the handworker is more or less elemental, dealing directly with the materials. we begin to recognize these industries in literature, in sculpture, and in painting; but we do not yet very consciously or effectively translate them into music. it is to be recognized, of course, that melody is emotional and dynamic not imitative, that its power lies in suggestion rather than in direct representation, and that its language is general; with all this i have nothing to do. meunier has done much with his chisel to interpret the spirit of constructive labor and to develop its higher significance. his art is indeed concrete and static, and sculpture and music are not to be compared; yet it raises the question whether there may be other bold extensions of art. the primitive industries must have been mostly silent, when there were no iron tools, when fire felled the forest tree and hollowed the canoe, when the parts in construction were secured by thongs, and when the game was caught in silent traps or by the swift noiseless arrow and spear. even at the stone age the rude implements and the materials must have been mostly devoid of resonance. but now industry has become universal and complex, and it has also become noisy,--so noisy that we organize to protect ourselves from becoming distraught. and yet a workshop, particularly if it works in metal, is replete with tones that are essentially musical. workmen respond readily to unison. there are melodies that arise from certain kinds of labor. much of our labor is rhythmic. in any factory driven by power, there is a fundamental rhythm and motion, tying all things together. i have often thought, standing at the threshold of a mill, that it might be possible somewhere by careful forethought to eliminate the clatter and so to organize the work as to develop a better expression in labor. very much do we need to make industry vocal. it is worth considering, also, whether it is possible to take over into music any of these sounds of industry in a new way, that they may be given meanings they do not now possess. at all events, the poetic element in industry is capable of great development and of progressive interpretation; and poetry is scarcely to be dissociated from sound. all good work well done is essentially poetic to the sensitive mind; and when the work is the rhythm of many men acting in unison, the poetry has voice. the striking of the rivet the purr of a drill the crash of a steam-shovel the plunge of a dredge the buzz of a saw the roll of belts and chains the whirl of spindles the hiss of steam the tip-tap of valves the undertone rumble of a mill the silence intent of men at work the talk of men going to their homes,-- these are all the notes of great symphonies. nor should i stop with the industries of commerce and manufacture. there are many possibilities in the sounds and voices that are known of fisherfolk and campers and foresters and farmers. somehow we should be able to individualize these voices and to give them an artistic expression in some kind of human composition. there are rich suggestions in the voices of the farmyard, the calls of wild creatures, the tones of farm implements and machinery, the sounds of the elements, and particularly in the relations of all these to the pauses, the silences, and the distances beyond. whether it is possible to utilize any of these tones and voices artistically is not for a layman to say; but the layman may express the need that he feels. _the threatened literature_ a fear seems to be abroad that the inquisitiveness and exactness of science will deprive literature of imagination and sympathy and will destroy artistic expression; and it is said that we are in danger of losing the devotional element in literature. if these apprehensions are well founded, then do we have cause for alarm, seeing that literature is an immeasurable resource. great literature may be relatively independent of time and place, and this is beyond discussion here; but if the standards of interpretative literature are lowering it must be because the standards of life are lowering, for the attainment and the outlook of a people are bound to be displayed in its letters. perhaps our difficulty lies in a change in methods and standards rather than in essential qualities. we constantly acquire new material for literary use. the riches of life are vaster and deeper than ever before. it would be strange indeed if the new experience of the planet did not express itself in new literary form. we are led astray by the fatal habit of making comparisons, contrasting one epoch with another. there may be inflexible souls among the investigators who see little or nothing beyond the set of facts in a little field, but surely the greater number of scientific men are persons of keen imagination and of broad interest in all conquests. indeed, a lively imagination is indispensable in persons of the best attainments in science; it is necessary only that the imagination be regulated and trained. never has it been so true that fact is stranger than fiction. never have the flights of the poets been so evenly matched by the flights of science. all great engineers, chemists, physiologists, physicists work in the realm of imagination, of imagination that projects the unknown from the known. almost do we think that the roentgen ray, the wireless telegraphy, the analysis of the light of the stars, the serum control of disease are the product of what we might call pure fancy. the very utilities and conquests of modern society are the results of better imagination than the world has yet known. if it is true that the desire to measure and to analyze is now an established trait, equally is it true that it directs the mind into far and untried reaches; and if we have not yet found this range of inspiration in what is called artistic literature, it must be because literary criticism has not accepted the imagery of the modern world and is still looking for its art to the models of the past. the models of the past are properly the standards for the performances of their time, but this does not constitute them the standards of all time or of the present time. perhaps the writing of language for the sake of writing it is losing its hold; but a new, clear, and forceful literature appears. this new literature has its own criteria. it would be violence to judge it only by standards of criticism founded on elizabethan writings. we do not descend into crude materialism because we describe the materials of the cosmos; we do not eliminate imagination because we desire that it shall have meaning; we do not strip literature of artistic quality because it is true to the facts and the outlook of our own time. it may be admitted that present literature is inadequate, and that we are still obliged to go to the former compositions for our highest artistic expressions. very good. let us hope that we shall never cease to want these older literatures. let us hope that we shall never be severed from our past. but perhaps the good judge in a coming generation, when the slow process of elimination has perfected its criticism, will discover something very noble and even very artistic in the abundant writing of our day. certainly he will note the recovery from the first excess of reaction against the older orders, and he will be aware that at this epoch man began anew to express his social sense in a large way, as a result of all his painstaking studies in science. even if he should not discover the highest forms of literary expression, he might find that here was the large promise of a new order. possibly he would discover major compositions of the excellence of which we ourselves are not aware. it is less than forty years since darwin and less than fifty years since agassiz. it is only twenty years since pasteur. it is only a century and a quarter since franklin, fifty years since faraday, less than twenty-five since tyndall. it is sixty years since humboldt glorified the earth with the range of his imagination. it is not so very far even if we go back to newton and to kepler. within the span of a century we count name after name of prophets who have set us on a new course. so complete has been the revolution that we lost our old bearings before we had found the new. we have not yet worked out the new relationships, nor put into practice their moral obligations, nor have we grasped the fulness of our privileges. we have not yet made the new knowledge consciously into a philosophy of life or incorporated it completely into working attitudes of social equity. therefore, not even now are we ripe for the new literature. we have gone far enough, however, to know that science is not unsympathetic and that it is not contemptuous of the unknown. by lens and prism and balance and line we measure minutely whatever we can sense; then with bared heads we look out to the great unknown and we cast our lines beyond the stars. there are no realms beyond which the prophecy of science would not go. it resolves the atom and it weighs the planets. among the science men i have found as many poetic souls as among the literary men, although they may not know so much poetry, and they are not equally trained in literary expression; being free of the restraint of conventional criticism, they are likely to have a peculiarly keen and sympathetic projection. close dissection long continued may not lead to free artistic literary expression; this is as true of literary anatomy as of biological anatomy: but this does not destroy the freedom of other souls, and it may afford good material for the artist. two kinds of popular writing are confused in the public mind, for there are two classes that express the findings of scientific inquiry. the prevailing product is that which issues from establishments and institutions. this is supervised, edited, and made to conform; it is the product of our perfected organizations and has all the hardness of its origin. the other literature is of a different breed. it is the expression of personality. the one is a useful and necessary public literature of record and advice; the other is a literature of outlook and inspiration. the latter is not to be expected from the institutions, for it is naturally the literature of freedom. my reader now knows my line of approach to the charge that literature is in danger of losing its element of devotion, and hereby lies the main reason for introducing this discussion into my little book. we may be losing the old literary piety and the technical theology, because we are losing the old theocratic outlook on creation. we also know that the final control of human welfare will not be governmental or military, and we shall some day learn that it will not be economic as we now prevailingly use the word. we have long since forgotten that once it was patriarchal. we shall know the creator in the creation. we shall derive more of our solaces from the creation and in the consciousness of our right relations to it. we shall be more fully aware that righteousness inheres in honest occupation. we shall find some bold and free way in which the human spirit may express itself. _the separate soul_ many times in this journey have we come against the importance of the individual. we are to develop the man's social feeling at the same time that we allow him to remain separate. we are to accomplish certain social results otherwise than by the process of thronging, which is so much a part of the philosophy of this anxious epoch; and therefore we may pursue the subject still a little further. any close and worth-while contact with the earth tends to make one original or at least detached in one's judgments and independent of group control. in proportion as society becomes organized and involved, do we need the separate spirit and persons who are responsible beings on their own account. the independent judgment should be much furthered by studies in the sciences that are founded on observation of native forms and conditions. and yet the gains of scientific study become so rigidly organized into great enterprises that the individual is likely to be lost in them. as an example of what i mean, i mention john muir, who has recently passed away, and who stood for a definite contribution to his generation. he could hardly have made this contribution if he had been attached to any of the great institutions or organizations or to big business. he has left a personal impression and a remarkable literature that has been very little influenced by group psychology. he is the interpreter of mountains, forests, and glaciers. there is one method of aggregation and social intercourse. there is another method of isolation and separateness. never in the open country do i see a young man or woman at nightfall going down the highways and the long fields but i think of the character that develops out of the loneliness, in the silence of vast surroundings, projected against the backgrounds, and of the suggestions that must come from these situations as contrasted with those that arise from the babble of the crowds. there is hardiness in such training; there is independence, the taking of one's own risk and no need of the protection of compensation-acts. there is no over-imposed director to fall back on. physical recuperation is in the situation. as against these fields, much of the habitual golf and tennis and other adventitious means of killing time and of making up deficiencies is almost ludicrous. many of our reformers fail because they express only a group psychology and do not have a living personal interpretation. undoubtedly many persons who might have had a message of their own have lost it and have also lost the opportunity to express it by belonging to too many clubs and by too continuous association with so-called kindred spirits, or by taking too much post-graduate study. it is a great temptation to join many clubs, but if one feels any stir of originality in himself, he should be cautious how he joins. i may also recall the great example of agassiz at penikese. in his last year, broken in health, feeling the message he still had for the people, he opened the school on the little island off the coast of massachusetts. it was a short school in one summer only, yet it has made an indelible impression on american education. it stimulates one to know that the person who met the incoming students on the wharf was agassiz himself, not an assistant or an instructor. out of the great number of applicants, he chose fifty whom he would teach. he wanted to send forth these chosen persons with his message, apostles to carry the methods and the way of approach. (when are we to have the penikese for the rural backgrounds?) sometime there will be many great unattached teachers, who will choose their own pupils because they want them and not merely because the applicants have satisfied certain arbitrary tests. the students may be graduates of colleges or they may be others. they will pursue their work not for credit or for any other reward. we shall yet come back to the masters, and there will be teaching in the market-places. we are now in the epoch of great organization not only in industrial developments but also in educational and social enterprises, in religious work, and in governmental activities. so completely is the organization proceeding in every direction, and so good is it, that one habitually and properly desires to identify oneself with some form of associated work. almost in spite of oneself, one is caught up into the plan of things, and becomes part of a social, economic, or educational mechanism. no longer do we seek our educational institutions so much for the purpose of attaching ourselves to a master as to pursue a course of study. no more do we sit at the feet of gamaliel. in government, the organization has recently taken the form of mechanism for efficiency. we want government and all kinds of organization to be efficient and effective, but administrative efficiency may easily proceed at the expense of personality. much of our public organization for efficiency is essentially monarchic in its tendency. it is likely to eliminate the most precious resource in human society, which is the freedom of expression of the competent individual. we are piling organization on organization, one supervising and watching and "investigating" the other. the greater the number of the commissions, investigating committees, and the interlocking groups, the more complex does the whole process become and the more difficult is it for the person to find himself. we can never successfully substitute bookkeeping for men and women. we are more in need of personality than of administrative regularity. this is not a doctrine of laisser-faire or let-alone. the very conditions of modern society demand strong control and regulation and vigorous organization; but the danger is that we apply the controls uniformly and everywhere and eliminate the free action of the individual, as if control were in itself a merit. in some way we must protect the person from being submerged in the system. we need always to get back of the group to the individual. the person is the reason for the group, although he is responsible to the group. it is probably a great advantage to our democracy that our educational institutions are so completely organized, for by that means we are able to educate many more persons and to prepare them for the world with a clear and direct purpose in life. but this is not the whole of the public educational process. some of the most useful persons cannot express themselves in institutions. this is not the fault of the institutions. in the nature of their character, these persons are separate. for the most part, they do not now have adequate means of self-expression or of contributing themselves to the public welfare. when we shall have completed the present necessity of consolidation, centralization, and organization, society will begin to be conscious of the separate souls, who in the nature of the case must stand by themselves, and it will make use of them for the public good. society will endow persons, not on a basis of salary, and enable them thereby to teach in their own way and their own time. this will represent one of the highest types of endowment by government and society. we begin to approach this time by the support, through semi-public agencies, of persons to accomplish certain results or to undertake special pieces of work, particularly of research; but we have not yet attained the higher aim of endowing individuals to express themselves personally. there are liberated personalities, rare and prophetic, who are consumed only in making a living but who should be given unreservedly to the people: the people are much in need. never have we needed the separate soul so much as now. _the element of separateness in society_ if it is so important that we have these separate souls, then must we inquire where they may be found and particularly how we may insure the requisite supply. isolated separates appear here and there, in all the ranges of human experiences; these cannot be provided or foretold; but we shall need, in days to come, a group or a large class of persons, who in the nature of their occupation, situation, and training are relatively independent and free. we need more than a limited number of strong outstanding figures who rise to personal leadership. we must have a body of unattached laborers and producers who are in sufficient numbers to influence unexpressed public opinion and who will form a natural corrective as against organization-men, habitual reformers, and extremists. it is apparent that such a class must own productive property, be able to secure support by working for themselves, and produce supplies that are indispensable to society. their individual interests must be greater and more insistent than their associative interests. they should be in direct contact with native resources. this characterization describes the farmer, and no other large or important group. we have considered, on a former page, that we are not to look for the self-acting individuals among the workingmen as a class. they are rapidly partaking in an opposite development. they are controlled by associative interests. even under a profit-sharing system they are parts in a close concert. how to strike the balance between the needful individualism and social crystallization is probably the most difficult question before society. of the great underlying classes of occupations, farming is the only one that presents the individualistic side very strongly. if individualism is to be preserved anywhere, it must be preserved here. the tendency of our present-day discussion is to organize the farmers as other groups or masses are organized. we are in danger here. assuredly, the farmer needs better resources in association, but it is a nice question how far we should go and how completely we should try to redirect him. fortunately, the holding of title to land and the separateness of farm habitations prevent solidification. if, on this individualism and without destroying it, we can develop a co-acting and co-operating activity, we shall undoubtedly be on the line of safety as well as on the line of promise. it would be a pity to organize the farming people merely to secure them their "rights." we ought soon to pass this epoch in civilization. there are no "rights" exclusive to any class. "rights" are not possessions. i do not know where the element of separateness in society is to be derived unless it comes out of the earth. given sufficient organization to enable the farmer to express himself fully in his occupation and to secure protection, then we may well let the matter rest until his place in society develops by the operation of natural forces. we cannot allow the fundamental supplies from the common earth to be controlled by arbitrary class regulation. it would be a misfortune if the farmer were to isolate himself by making "demands" on society. i hope that the farmer's obligation may be so sensitively developed in him as to produce a better kind of mass-cohesion than we have yet known. _the democratic basis in agriculture_ all these positions are capable of direct application in the incorporation of agriculture into a scheme of democracy. a brief treatment of this subject i had developed for the present book; and this treatment, with applications to particular situations now confronting us, i used recently in the vice-presidential address before the new section m of the american association for the advancement of science (published in _science_, february , , where the remainder of it may be found). some of the general points of view, modified from that address, may be brought together here. the desirability of keeping a free and unattached attitude in the people on the land may be expounded in many directions, but for my purpose i will confine the illustrations to organization in the field of education. the agricultural situation is now much in the public mind. it is widely discussed in the press, which shows that it has news value. much of this value is merely of superficial and temporary interest. much of it represents a desire to try new remedies for old ills. many of these remedies will not work. we must be prepared for some loss of public interest in them as time goes on. we are now in a publicity stage of our rural development. it would seem that the news-gathering and some other agencies discover these movements after the work of many constructive spirits has set them going and has laid real foundations; and not these foundations, but only detached items of passing interest, may be known of any large part of the public. i hope that we shall not be disturbed by this circumstance nor let it interfere with good work or with fundamental considerations, however much we may deplore the false expectations that may result. we are at the parting of the ways. for years without number--for years that run into the centuries when men have slaughtered each other on many fields, thinking that they were on the fields of honor, when many awful despotisms have ground men into the dust, the despotisms thinking themselves divine--for all these years there have been men on the land wishing to see the light, trying to make mankind hear, hoping but never realizing. they have been the pawns on the great battlefields, men taken out of the peasantries to be hurled against other men they did not know and for no rewards except further enslavement. they may even have been developed to a high degree of manual or technical skill that they might the better support governments to make conquests. they have been on the bottom, upholding the whole superstructure and pressed into the earth by the weight of it. when the final history is written, the lot of the man on the land will be the saddest chapter. but in the nineteenth century, the man at the bottom began really to be recognized politically. this recognition is of two kinds,--the use that a government can make in its own interest of a highly efficient husbandry, and the desire to give the husbandman full opportunity and full justice. i hope that in these times the latter motive always prevails. it is the only course of safety. great public-service institutions have now been founded in the rural movement. the united states department of agriculture has grown to be one of the notable governmental establishments of the world, extending itself to a multitude of interests and operating with remarkable effectiveness. the chain of colleges of agriculture and experiment stations, generously co-operative between nation and state, is unlike any other development anywhere, meaning more, i think, for the future welfare and peace of the people than any one of us yet foresees. there is the finest fraternalism, and yet without clannishness, between these great agencies, setting a good example in public service. and to these agencies we are to add the state departments of agriculture, the work of private endowments although yet in its infancy, the growing and very desirable contact with the rural field of many institutions of learning. all these agencies comprise a distinctly modern phase of public activity. a new agency has been created in the agricultural extension act which was signed by president wilson on the th of may in . the farmer is to find help at his own door. a new instrumentality in the world has now received the sanction of a whole people and we are just beginning to organize it. the organization must be extensive, and it ought also to be liberal. no such national plan on such a scale has ever been attempted; and it almost staggers one when one even partly comprehends the tremendous consequences that in all likelihood will come of it. the significance of it is not yet grasped by the great body of the people. now, the problem is to relate all this public work to the development of a democracy. i am not thinking so much of the development of a form of government as of a real democratic expression on the part of the people. agriculture is our basic industry. as we organize its affairs, so to a great degree shall we secure the results in society in general. it is very important in our great experiment in democracy that we do not lose sight of the first principle in democracy, which is to let the control of policies and affairs rest directly back on the people. we have developed the institutions on public funds to train the farmer and to give him voice. these institutions are of vast importance in the founding of a people. the folk are to be developed in themselves rather than by class legislation, or by favor of government, or by any attitude of benevolence from without. whether there is any danger in the organization of our new nationalized extension work, and the other public rural agencies, i suppose not one of us knows. but for myself, i have apprehension of the tendency to make some of the agricultural work into "projects" at washington and elsewhere. if we are not careful, we shall not only too much centralize the work, but we shall tie it up in perplexing red-tape, official obstacles, and bookkeeping. the merit of the projects themselves and the intentions of the officers concerned in them are not involved in what i say; i speak only of the tendency of all government to formality and to crystallization, to machine work and to armchair regulations; and even at the risk of a somewhat lower so-called "efficiency," i should prefer for such work as investigating and teaching in agriculture, a dispersion of the initiative and responsibility, letting the co-ordination and standardizing arise very much from conference and very little from arbitrary regulation. the best project anywhere is a good man or woman working in a program, but unhampered. if it is important that the administration of agricultural work be not overmuch centralized at washington, it is equally true that it should not be too much centralized in the states. i hear that persons who object strongly to federal concentration may nevertheless decline to give the counties and the communities in their own states the benefit of any useful starting-power and autonomy. in fact, i am inclined to think that here at present lies one of our greatest dangers. a strong centralization within the state may be the most hurtful kind of concentration, for it may more vitally affect the people at home. here the question, remember, is not the most efficient formal administration, but the best results for the people. the farm-bureau work, for example, can never produce the background results of which it is capable if it is a strongly intrenched movement pushed out from one centre, as from the college of agriculture or other institution. the college may be the guiding force, but it should not remove responsibility from the people of the localities, or offer them a kind of co-operation that is only the privilege of partaking in the college enterprises. i fear that some of our so-called co-operation in public work of many kinds is little more than to allow the co-operator to approve what the official administration has done. in the course of our experience in democracy, we have developed many checks against too great centralization. i hope that we may develop the checks effectively in this new welfare work in agriculture, a desire that i am aware is also strong with many of those who are concerned in the planning of it. some enterprises may be much centralized, whether in a democracy or elsewhere; an example is the postal service: this is on the business side of government. some enterprises should be decentralized; an example is a good part of the agricultural service: this is on the educational side of government. it is the tendency to reduce all public work to uniformity; yet there is no virtue in uniformity. its only value is as a means to an end. thus far, the rural movement has been wholesomely democratic. it has been my privilege for one-third of a century to have known rather closely many of the men and women who have been instrumental in bringing the rural problem to its present stage of advancement. they have been public-minded, able, far-seeing men and women, and they have rendered an unmeasurable service. the rural movement has been brought to its present state without any demand for special privilege, without bolstering by factitious legislation, and to a remarkable degree without self-seeking. it is based on a real regard for the welfare of all the people, rather than for rural people exclusively. thrice or more in this book i have spoken as if not convinced that the present insistence on "efficiency" in government is altogether sound. that is exactly the impression i desire to convey. as the term is now commonly applied, it is not a measure of good government. certain phrases and certain sets of ideas gain dominance at certain times. just now the idea of administrative efficiency is uppermost. it seems necessarily to be the controlling factor in the progress of any business or any people. certainly, a people should be efficient; but an efficient government may not mean an efficient people,--it may mean quite otherwise or even the reverse. the primary purpose of government in these days, and particularly in this country, is to educate and to develop all the people and to lead them to express themselves freely and to the full, and to partake politically. and this is what governments may not do, and this is where they may fail even when their efficiency in administration is exact. a monarchic form may be executively more efficient than a democratic form; a despotic form may be more efficient than either. the justification of a democratic form of government lies in the fact that it is a means of education. the final test of government is not executive efficiency. every movement, every circumstance that takes starting-power and incentive away from the people, even though it makes for exacter administration, is to be challenged. it is specially to be deplored if this loss of starting-power affects the persons who deal first-hand with the surface of the planet and with the products that come directly out of it. there is a broad political significance to all this. sooner or later the people rebel against intrenched or bureaucratic groups. many of you know how they resist even strongly centralized departments of public instruction, and how the effectiveness of such departments may be jeopardized and much lessened by the very perfectness of their organization; and if they were to engage in a custom of extraneous forms of news-giving in the public press, the resentment would be the greater. in our rural work we are in danger of developing a piece of machinery founded on our fundamental industry; and if this ever comes about, we shall find the people organizing to resist it. the reader will understand that in this discussion i assume the agricultural work to be systematically organized, both in nation and state; this is essential to good effort and to the accomplishing of results: but we must take care that the formal organization does not get in the way of the good workers, hindering and repressing them and wasting their time. we want governments to be economical and efficient with funds and in the control of affairs; this also is assumed: but we must not overlook the larger issues. in all this new rural effort, we should maintain the spirit of team-work and of co-action, and not make the mistake of depending too much on the routine of centralized control. in this country we are much criticised for the cost of government and for the supposed control of affairs by monopoly. the cost is undoubtedly too great, but it is the price we pay for the satisfaction of using democratic forms. as to the other disability, let us consider that society lies between two dangers,--the danger of monopoly and the danger of bureaucracy. on the one side is the control of the necessities of life by commercial organization. on the other side is the control of the necessities of life, and even of life itself, by intrenched groups that ostensibly represent the people and which it may be impossible to dislodge. here are the scylla and the charybdis between which human society must pick its devious way. both are evil. of the two, monopoly may be the lesser: it may be more easily brought under control; it tends to be more progressive; it extends less far; it may be the less hateful. they are only two expressions of one thing, one possibly worse than the other. probably there are peoples who pride themselves on more or less complete escape from monopoly who are nevertheless suffering from the most deadening bureaucracy. agriculture is in the foundation of the political, economic, and social structure. if we cannot develop starting-power in the background people, we cannot maintain it elsewhere. the greatness of all this rural work is to lie in the results and not in the methods that absorb so much of our energy. if agriculture cannot be democratic, then there is no democracy. _the background spaces.--the forest_ "this is the forest primeval." these are the significant words of the poet in evangeline. perhaps more than any single utterance they have set the american youth against the background of the forest. the backgrounds are important. the life of every one of us is relative. we miss our destiny when we miss or forget our backgrounds. we lose ourselves. men go off in vague heresies when they forget the conditions against which they live. judgments become too refined and men tend to become merely disputatious and subtle. the backgrounds are the great unoccupied spaces. they are the large environments in which we live but which we do not make. the backgrounds are the sky with its limitless reaches; the silences of the sea; the tundra in pallid arctic nights; the deserts with their prismatic colors; the shores that gird the planet; the vast mountains that are beyond reach; the winds, which are the universal voice in nature; the sacredness of the night; the elemental simplicity of the open fields; and the solitude of the forest. these are the facts and situations that stand at our backs, to which we adjust our civilization, and by which we measure ourselves. the great conquest of mankind is the conquest of his natural conditions. we admire the man who overcomes: the sailor or navigator in hostile and unknown seas; the engineer who projects himself hard against the obstacles; the miner and the explorer; the builder; the farmer who ameliorates the earth to man's use. but even though we conquer or modify the physical conditions against which we are set, nevertheless the backgrounds will remain. i hope that we may always say "the forest primeval." i hope that some reaches of the sea may never be sailed, that some swamps may never be drained, that some mountain peaks may never be scaled, that some forests may never be harvested. i hope that some knowledge may never be revealed. look at your map of the globe. note how few are the areas of great congestion of population and of much human activity as compared with the vast and apparently empty spaces. how small are the spots that represent the cities and what a little part of the earth are the political divisions that are most in the minds of men! we are likely to think that all these outlying and thinly peopled places are the wastes. i suspect that they contribute more to the race than we think. i am glad that there are still some places of mystery, some reaches of hope, some things far beyond us, some spaces to conjure up dreams. i am glad that the earth is not all iowa or belgium or the channel islands. i am glad that some of it is the hard hills of new england, some the heathered heights of scotland, some the cold distances of quebec, some of it the islands far off in little-traversed seas, and some of it also the unexplored domains that lie within eyesight of our own homes. it is well to know that these spaces exist, that there are places of escape. they add much to the ambition of the race; they make for strength, for courage, and for renewal. in the cities i am always interested in the variety of the contents of the store windows. variously fabricated and disguised, these materials come from the ends of the earth. they come from the shores of the seas, from the mines, from the land, from the forests, from the arctic, and from the tropic. they are from the backgrounds. the cities are great, but how much greater are the forests and the sea! no people should be forbidden the influence of the forest. no child should grow up without a knowledge of the forest; and i mean a real forest and not a grove or village trees or a park. there are no forests in cities, however many trees there may be. as a city is much more than a collection of houses, so is a forest much more than a collection of trees. the forest has its own round of life, its characteristic attributes, its climate, and its inhabitants. when you enter a real forest you enter the solitudes, you are in the unexpressed distances. you walk on the mould of years and perhaps of ages. there is no other wind like the wind of the forest; there is no odor like the odor of the forest; there is no solitude more complete; there is no song of a brook like the song of a forest brook; there is no call of a bird like that of a forest bird; there are no mysteries so deep and which seem yet to be within one's realization. while a forest is more than trees, yet the trees are the essential part of the forest; and no one ever really knows or understands a forest until he first understands a tree. there is no thing in nature finer and stronger than the bark of a tree; it is a thing in place, adapted to its ends, perfect in its conformation, beautiful in its color and its form and the sweep of its contour; and every bark is peculiar to its species. i think that one never really likes a tree until he is impelled to embrace it with his arms and to run his fingers through the grooves of its bark. man listens in the forest. he pauses in the forest. he finds himself. he loses himself in the town and even perhaps in the university. he may lose himself in business and in great affairs; but in the forest he is one with a tree, he stands by himself and yet has consolation, and he comes back to his own place in the scheme of things. we have almost forgotten to listen; so great and ceaseless is the racket that the little voices pass over our ears and we hear them not. i have asked person after person if he knew the song of the chipping-sparrow, and most of them are unaware that it has any song. we do not hear it in the blare of the city street, in railway travel, or when we are in a thunderous crowd. we hear it in the still places and when our ears are ready to catch the smaller sounds. there is no music like the music of the forest, and the better part of it is faint and far away or high in the tops of trees. the forest may be an asylum. "the groves were god's first temples." we need all our altars and more, but we need also the sanctuary of the forest. it is a poor people that has no forests. i prize the farms because they have forests. it is a poor political philosophy that has no forests. it is a poor nation that has no forests and no workers in wood. in many places there are the forests. i think that we do not get the most out of them. certainly they have two uses: one for the products, and one for the human relief and the inspiration. i should like to see a movement looking toward the better utilization of the forests humanly, as we use school buildings and church buildings and public halls. i wish that we might take our friends to the forests as we also take them to see the works of the masters. for this purpose, we should not go in large companies. we need sympathetic guidance. parties of two and four may go separately to the forests to walk and to sit and to be silent. i would not forget the forest in the night, in the silence and the simplicity of the darkness. strangely few are the people who know a real forest at dark. few are those who know the forest when the rain is falling or when the snow covers the earth. yet the forest is as real in all these moments as when the sun is at full and the weather is fair. i wish that we might know the forest intimately and sensitively as a part of our background. i think it would do much to keep us close to the verities and the essentials. _a forest background for a reformatory_ some years ago i presented to a board that was charged with establishing and maintaining a new state reformatory for wayward and delinquent boys an outline of a possible setting for the enterprise; and as this statement really constitutes a practical application of some of the foregoing discussions, i present the larger part of it here. with delinquents it is specially important to develop the sense of obligation and responsibility, and i fear that we are endeavoring to stimulate this sense too exclusively by means of direct governing and disciplinary methods. the statement follows. i think that the activities in the proposed reformatory should be largely agricultural and industrial. so far as possible the young men should be put into direct contact with realities and with useful and practical work. an effort should be made to have all this work mean something to them and not to be merely make-believe. it is fairly possible to develop such a property and organization as will put them in touch with real work rather than to force the necessity of setting tasks in order to keep them busy. aside from the manual labor part of it, the background of the reformatory should be such as will develop the feeling of responsibility in the workers. this means that they must come actually in contact with the raw materials and with things as they grow. when a young man has a piece of wood or metal given to him in a shop, his whole responsibility is merely to make something out of this material; he has no responsibility for the material itself, as he would have if he had been obliged to mine it or to grow it. one of the greatest advantages of a farm training is that it develops a man's responsibility toward the materials with which he works. he is always brought face to face with the problem of saving the fertility of the land, saving the crops, saving the forests, and saving the live-stock. the idea of saving and safeguarding these materials is only incidental to those who do not help to produce them. it is important that the farm of this reformatory should be large enough so that all the young men may do some real pieces of work on it. such a farm is not to be commercial in the ordinary farming sense. its primary purpose is to aid in a reformative or educational process. you should, therefore, undertake such types of farming as will best serve those needs and best meet the abilities of the inmates. a very highly specialized farming, as the growing of truck-crops, would be quite impracticable as a commercial enterprise because this kind of farming demands the greatest skill and also because it requires a property very easily accessible to our great markets and, therefore, very expensive to procure and difficult to find in large enough acreage for an institution of this size; and it is doubtful whether this type of farming would have the best effect on the inmates. of course, i should expect that the institution would try to grow its own vegetables, but it would probably be unwise to make truck-gardening the backbone of the farming enterprise. i also feel that it would not be best to make it primarily a dairy farm or a fruit farm or a poultry farm, although all these things should be well represented on the place and in sufficient extent to supply the institution in whole or in part. there should be such a farming enterprise as would give a very large and open background, part of it practically wild, and which would allow for considerable freedom of action on the part of the inmates. you should have operations perhaps somewhat in the rough and which would appeal to the manly qualities of the young men. it seems to me that a forestry enterprise would possibly be the best as the main part of the farming scheme. if the reformatory could have one thousand acres of forest, the area would provide a great variety of conditions that the inmates would have to meet, it would give work in the building of roads and culverts and trails, it would provide winter activity at a time when the other farming enterprises are slack, it would bring the inmates directly in touch with wild and native life, and it would also place them against the natural resources in such a way as to make them feel their responsibility for the objects and the supplies. perhaps it will be impossible to secure one thousand acres of good timber in a more or less continuous area. however, it might be possible to assemble a good number of contiguous farms in some of the hill regions so that one thousand acres of timber in various grades of maturity might be secured. there would be open spaces which ought to be planted, and this of itself would provide good work and supervision. the trimming, felling, and other care of this forest would be continuous. the forest should not be stripped, but merely the merchantable or ready timber removed from year to year, and the domain kept in a growing and recuperating condition. one thousand acres of forest, in which timber is fit to be cut, should produce an annual increase of two hundred thousand to three hundred thousand board feet, and this increase should not lessen as the years go on. this timber should be manufactured. i have not looked into the question as to whether a market could be found for the materials that would be made from this timber, but i should suppose that a market could be as readily secured for this kind of manufacture as for any other. the educational and moral effect of seeing the material grow, then caring for it, then harvesting it, and then manufacturing it would be very great. one could follow the process from beginning to end and feel a responsibility for it in every stage. i should suppose that the manufacture would be of small work and not merely the sawing of lumber. it might be well to determine whether there would be market for chairs, cabinets, and other furniture, whip-stocks, or small material that could be used in the manufacture of novelties and other like articles. possibly the reformatory could supply some of the stock to the prisons that are manufacturing furniture, although the educational and moral effects would be better if the inmates could see the process from beginning to end. of course, you would not limit the manufacturing activities of the reformatory to wood-working. you probably would be obliged to have other kinds of factories, but the wood-working shops ought to be part of the plan and i should hope a very important part. i have not made any careful study of this question, and do not know how feasible these suggestions may be; but they appeal to me very strongly on the educational and reformational end. these suggestions are made only that they may be considered along with other suggestions, and if they seem to be worth while, to have the question investigated. if something like one thousand acres of land were secured for a forest, it would mean that the farm itself would be rather large. there ought to be probably not less than two or three hundred acres of land that might be used for grazing, gardens, and the ordinary farm operations that would contribute to the support of the inmates of the institution. of course, this arable land ought to be valley land or at least fairly level and accessible along good public highways. the forest land could be more remote, running back on the hills. if the property could be so located that the forest would control the sources of important streams and springs, the results would be all the better. the young men should feel their responsibility for creeks and ponds, and for the protection of wild life as well as for the crops that they raise. where the reformatory should be located is a matter that should receive very careful attention. it is not alone the problem of finding a site that is proper for a reformatory, but also the question of so placing it that it will have some relation to state development and some connection with the people's interests and desires. state institutions should be so separated that the greatest number of people may see them or come into contact with them. i dislike the tendency to group the state institutions about certain populous centres. in these days of easy transportation, the carrying problem is really of less importance than certain less definite but none the less real relations to all the people. there are certain great areas in the state of considerable population in which there are no state institutions, and in which the people know nothing about such affairs beyond the local school and church. perhaps at first blush the people of a locality might not relish the idea of having a reformatory in their midst, but this feeling ought soon to pass away; and, moreover, the people should be made to feel their responsibility for reformatories, asylums, and penitentiaries as well as their responsibility for any other state institutions, and the feeling should not be encouraged that such institutions should be put somewhere else merely because one locality does not desire them. the character of the property that is purchased will determine to a very large extent the character of the institution, and, therefore, the nature of the reformatory processes. this is more important than transportation facilities. it is a more important question even than that of the proper buildings, for buildings for these purposes have been studied by many experts and our ideas concerning them have been more or less standardized and, moreover, buildings can be extended and modified more easily than can the landed area. it seems to me that before you think actually of purchasing the land, you should arrive at a fairly definite conclusion as to what kind of a farming enterprise it is desired to develop as a background for the institution; you could then determine as far as possible on principle in what general region the institution ought to be located; and then set out on a direct exploration to determine whether the proper kind and quantity of land can be secured. _the background spaces.--the open fields_ here not long ago was the forest primeval. here the trees sprouted, and grew their centuries, and returned to the earth. here the midsummer brook ran all day long from the far-away places. here the night-winds slept. here havened the beasts and fowls when storms pursued them. here the leaves fell in the glory of the autumn, here other leaves burst forth in the miracle of spring, and here the pewee called in the summer. here the indian tracked his game. it was not so very long ago. that old man's father remembers it. then it was a new and holy land, seemingly fresh from the hand of the creator. the old man speaks of it as of a golden time, now far away and hallowed; he speaks of it with an attitude of reverence. "ah yes," my father told me; and calmly with bared head he relates it, every incident so sacred that not one hairbreadth must he deviate. the church and the master's school and the forest,--these three are strong in his memory. yet these are not all. he remembers the homes cut in the dim wall of the forest. he recalls the farms full of stumps and heaps of logs and the ox-teams on them, for these were in his boyhood. the ox-team was a natural part of the slow-moving conquest in those rugged days. roads betook themselves into the forest, like great serpents devouring as they went. and one day, behold! the forest was gone. farm joined farm, the village grew, the old folk fell away, new people came whose names had to be asked. and i thought me why these fields are not as hallowed as were the old forests. here are the same knolls and hills. in this turf there may be still the fibres of ancient trees. here are the paths of the midsummer brooks, but vocal now only in the freshets. here are the winds. the autumn goes and the spring comes. the pewee calls in the groves. the farmer and not the indian tracks the plow. here i look down on a little city. there is a great school in it. there are spires piercing the trees. in the distance are mills, and i see the smoke of good accomplishment roll out over the hillside. it is a self-centred city, full of pride. every mile-post praises it. toward it all the roads lead. it tells itself to all the surrounding country. and yet i cannot but feel that these quiet fields and others like them have made this city; but i am glad that the fields are not proud. one day a boy and one day a girl will go down from these fields, and out into the thoroughways of life. they will go far, but these hills they will still call home. from these uplands the waters flow down into the streams that move the mills and that float the ships. loads of timber still go hence for the construction down below. here go building-stones and sand and gravel,--gravel from the glaciers. here goes the hay for ten thousand horses. here go the wheat, and here the apples, and the animals. here are the votes that hold the people steady. somewhere there is the background. here is the background. here things move slowly. trees grow slowly. the streams change little from year to year, and yet they shape the surface of the earth in this hill country. in yonder fence-row the catbird has built since i was a boy, and yet i have wandered far and i have seen great changes in yonder city. the well-sweep has gone but the well is still there: the wells are gone from the city. the cows have changed in color, but still they are cows and yield their milk in season. the fields do not perish, but time eats away the city. i think all these things must be good and very good or they could not have persisted in all this change. in the beginning! yes, i know, it was holy then. the forces of eons shaped it: still was it holy. the forest came: still holy. then came the open fields. _the background spaces.--the ancestral sea_ the planet is not all land, and the sea is as holy as the soil. we speak of the "waste of waters," and we still offer prayers for those who go down to the sea in ships. superstition yet clings about the sea. the landsman thinks of the sea as barren, and he regrets that it is not solid land on which he may grow grass and cattle. and as one looks over the surface of the waters, with no visible object on the vast expanse and even the clouds lying apparently dead and sterile, and when one considers that three-fourths of the earth's surface is similarly covered, one has the impression of utter waste and desolation, with no good thing abiding there for the comfort and cheer of man. the real inhabitants of the sea are beneath the surface and every part is tenanted, so completely tenanted that the ocean produces greater bulk of life, area for area, than does the solid land; and every atom of this life is as keen to live and follows as completely the law of its existence as does the life of the interiors of the continents. the vast meadows of plankton and nekton, albeit largely of organisms microscopic, form a layer for hundreds of feet beneath the surface and on which the great herbivora feed; and on these animals the legions of the carnivora subsist. every vertical region has its life, peculiar to it, extending even to the bottoms of the depths in the world-slimes and the darkness; and in these deeps the falling remains of the upper realms, like gentle primeval rains, afford a never-failing, never-ending source of food and maintain the slow life in the bottoms. we think of the huge animals of the sea when we think of mass, and it is true that the great whales are the bulkiest creatures we know to have lived; yet it is the bacteria, the desmids, the minute crustaceans, and many other diminutive forms that everywhere populate the sea from the equator to the poles and provide the vast background of the ocean life. in these gulfs of moving unseen forms nitrification proceeds, and the rounds of life go on unceasingly. the leviathan whale strains out these minute organisms from the volumes of waters, and so full of them may be his maw that his captors remove the accumulation with spades. the rivers bring down their freight of mud and organic matter, and supply food for the denizens of the sea. the last remains of all these multitudes are laid down on the ocean floors as organic oozes; and nobody knows what part the abysmal soil may play in the economy of the plant in some future epoch. the rains of the land come from the sea; the clouds come ultimately from the sea; the trade-winds flow regularly from the sea; the temperatures of the land surface are controlled largely from the sea; the high lands are washed into the sea as into a basin; if all the continents were levelled into the sea still would the sea envelop the planet about two miles deep. impurities find their way into the sea and are there digested into the universal beneficence. we must reckon with the sea. it is supposed that the first life on the earth came forth where the land and the waters join, from that eternal interplay of cosmic forces where the solid and the fluid, the mobile and the immobile, meet and marry. verily, the ancestral sea is the background of the planet. its very vastness makes it significant. it shows no age. its deeps have no doubt existed from the solidification of the earth and they will probably remain when all works of man perish utterly. the sea is the bosom of the earth's mysteries. because man cannot set foot on it, the sea remains beyond his power to modify, to handle, and to control. no breach that man may make but will immediately fill; no fleets of mighty ships go down but that the sea covers them in silence and knows them not; man may not hold converse with the monsters in the deeps. the sea is beyond him, surpassing, elemental, and yet blessing him with abundant benedictions. so vast is the sea and so self-recuperating that man cannot sterilize it. he despoils none of its surface when he sails his ships. he does not annihilate the realms of plankton, lying layer on layer in its deluging, consuming soil. it controls him mightily. the seas and the shores have provided the trading ways of the peoples. the ocean connects all lands, surrounds all lands. until recent times the great marts have been mostly on coasts or within easy water access of them. the polity of early settlements was largely the polity of the sea and the strand. the daring of the navigator was one of the first of the heroic human qualities. probably all dry land was once under the sea, and therefrom has it drawn much of its power. from earliest times the sea has yielded property common to all and free to whomever would take it,--the fish, the wrack, the drift, the salvage of ships. pirates have roamed the sea for spoil and booty. when government appropriates the wreckage of ships and the stranded derelict of the sea, the people may think it justifiable protection of their rights to secrete it. smuggling is an old sea license. laws and customs and old restraints lose their force and vanish on the sea; and freedom rises out of the sea. and so the ocean has contributed to the making of the outlook of the human family. the race would be a very different race had there been no sea stretching to the unknown, conjuring vague fears and stimulating hopes, bringing its freight, bearing tidings of far lands, sundering traditions, rolling the waves of its elemental music, driving its rank smells into the nostrils, putting its salt into the soul. quest's end by basil wells thig's quest was not yet finished, for the hordes of ortha had sent another ship across the void. only he could halt earth's destruction--with a weapon that was but a thought in his mind. [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories spring . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "i was a fool," gritted thig. his eye crowded the eyepiece of the compact metal case on the table before him. the window was open and the ugly metal snout of the instrument pointed toward the eastern horizon. "i should have expected the men of ortha to send a second expedition to earth!" thig's compact body stiffened angrily. he came to his feet, his gaze roaming about the familiar disorder of the little boathouse. here he came daily to write the lusty sagas of the old west that had made the name of lewis terry familiar to millions of readers. here beside the pot-bellied iron stove with the single cracked lid, he had worked long hours, striving vainly to forget that he was an alien being from another distant world. curiosity, a trait that no other orthan had possessed for many thousands of years, had impelled him to construct a small, but powerful, etherscope, and trace the fate of the space ship he had deserted. it had been built of odds and ends of material at night, but it opened the heavens before him. he saw planets and suns, countless light years distant many of them, and eventually he found ortha--in time to see the space ship being boarded out in space by patrolling hordemen, and quickly destroyed. they were taking no chances on the spread of the contagion from earth among the orthans. for the good of the horde, the alien that was lewis terry knew, the patrolmen would transmit the information they received, and then destroy themselves. in their narrow philosophy of life only the horde mattered. he had been like that when his name was thig, and the memories of lewis terry were not yet part of his life. and now another space ship was coming to earth, coming to check on the findings of that earlier ill-fated expedition, and he alone could checkmate them!... if he had only kept watch on ortha! he had two months, possibly a few days more than that, in which to destroy this second expedition that meant conquest and certain death for all earth's warring millions! two months to prepare! for the good of ellen and the children, the children of the dead man whose identity he had stolen, he must succeed. the lusty primitives of this rich green world must never be replaced by the disciplined robot race that was the horde. he covered his typewriter. the lock snapped with finality as he turned the key. he flexed the muscles of great arms, much too powerful for the meek appearance of the writer they were, and the blood beat hot through his squat body. "you're staying locked," he said slowly, "until the last hordeman is wiped from the face of earth." he smiled grimly as he reflected that his hero was trapped atop a waterless butte with a horde of apaches howling below. "hope you can stick it out for eight or nine weeks without water, brazos," he said to the typed pages he was leaving. * * * * * the life boat lifted sluggishly from the sands that had covered it for two years. thig cleared each jet carefully, and then, finding them unharmed, he bored high into the stratosphere. behind him the submarine patrol and the air-raid posts went mildly insane. they knew that some strange craft had roared up from the beach on long island, but they were never to know what it was. ellen, lewis terry's wife, clenched the short letter that her husband had pressed into her hand as he kissed her earlier that evening. she did not know that he was really thig, nor did the letter reveal that fact. if he was to die, he would die lewis terry. the letter told her simply that he must go away on a secret mission for several months. she understood now why the unshed tears had been bright in his eyes. over the united states thig blasted the life boat, and across the pacific. he was getting as far from long island as he could, and one of his plans to destroy the orthans called for many tons of explosives. explosives, he told himself grimly, that the yellow men would furnish. he landed at last on a rocky strip of island that was outside the combat zone, and there commenced to lay out his trap. it would take many tons of explosives to penetrate the tough hull of the space ship he knew, but the ship must be destroyed. he had considered building a huge heat blaster, but the time was too limited and he knew how powerful were the protective shells of a space ship's skin. gadgets he had considered; tricks that might gain for him entry into the ship where he could turn his own decomposition blaster on his brothers--all the tricks of the writing trade had passed muster before his mind's eye--but inevitably he returned to the decision that explosives gave the only certain means of destruction. there was an island not far from his landing place where the men with yellow skins had stored a great quantity of munitions and supplies. the fighting front was far to the east and at night no great precautions were taken. any approaching fleet of bombers or surface ships would be detected long before they could reach this island. nothing but submarines. thig's space ship moved almost silently through the water offshore. the design of the ship that permitted no air to escape now permitted no water to enter. for many of the planets that ortha claimed for her own possessed gaseous envelopes that were denser than water, and the horde's ships were equipped to meet those conditions. softly the bow of the little craft nosed up on the beach inside the harbor, and from its single lock stepped thig. naked he was now, as were all hordemen, and from the harness of flexible plastic about his body there depended a decomposition blaster and an old butcher knife that he had whetted to razor sharpness. "you hear something?" asked one of the two guards. "it was the waves," his comrade said, listening for a moment. "in the darkness i can see nothing," grumbled the first jap. "perhaps the marines are landing." "ho," laughed the other guard, "the marines are thousands of miles away. they cannot stand against the power of our emperor." "it has been more than a year," said the fearful one, "and we have not yet conquered all of california. i have heard that a few marines are still hiding in the solomons." "the radio does not tell you that," scoffed the guard. "we have sunk every american boat. there are no more american airplanes in the pacific. soon we will all move to america and have the white barbarians to wait upon us." "was that a japanese bomber yesterday?" the man's rifle thunked lightly against wood. "there were circles on its wings." "there may be a few left," was the excuse of the other guard. "now we must cease talking and walk our posts." now thig could make out the shapes of the guards as they went their way. one of them, the short, thick yellow man was coming slowly toward the tree that sheltered thig. perhaps he was dreaming of the fertile valleys of america, where the white-skinned men and women would be his servants, as he walked along. abruptly great fingers clamped around his throat, and he felt the sting of something that slammed against his chest. his feet scuffed at the soil, and then a great roaring filled his ears. thig eased the limp body to the earth. the other slim guard had halted, his nervously acute ears picking up some vague sound. "what--what was that?" he called to his comrade. thig eased his blaster from its holster. in a moment the guard would arouse the other members of the garrison. the distance was too great for the knife--the man would be able to fire his rifle before he reached him. the weapon's invisible rays slammed the jap's body backward. even as he fell the flesh was falling, rotted by the blaster's swift decomposing action, from the man's bones. a moment later only the crumbling bones of a skeleton remained of what had been a soldier. he loaded the little ship to its capacity with explosives from the stores on the island, and before he left he touched a match to the buildings. then he blasted off, with the water clearing explosively from his spacer's overloaded jets to arouse the sleeping warriors of the mikado. * * * * * after that first foray thig raided many an outlying island, and looted the sunken transports that lay in the shallowed water between some of the captured islands. he mounted a heavy machine gun in the nose of his agile little craft, and many a yellow man never returned to his home landing field. by days he hid near his objectives, in the jungle or the shallow water in the shadows of a jutting coral reef, and by night he moved like a giant crab, in his space suit, among the sunken ships. his stores of explosives he concealed in a great ring around the heart of the island--the only practical landing spot for the space cruiser, already slackening its terrific drive as it passed pluto. how many tons of the deadly material he had collected he could not tell, but there was already sufficient to blow the island and everything upon it into oblivion. time was growing short. less than a day remained in which to bait the trap with his own ship for bait. the cruiser's detectors would pick up the _trylerium's_ characteristic radiations from the pitted walls of his rocket jets--the blasting jets of all space ships were made of _trylerium_--and they would land nearby. that he would be blown up, too, in the explosion did not matter greatly, thought thig. ellen, the wife of the man he had helped kill, and the children, would be safe. earth could go on in its own bloody blundering way to a glorious future. but first he must bring back another load, the final link in the deadly ring about the landing place. morning was at hand. he would have to work fast. he left the load where it lay and blasted off. the great bomber, with the circles painted on its wings, passed over the little island. it returned. the pilot shouted and bombs intended for a target several hundred miles to the south took their final plunge earthward. the ship was bullet-scarred--off its course--and since this was japanese-dominated water his mistake was only natural. he took the caches of munitions for enemy supply dumps. it was his last mistake. the island dissolved into splintered fragments, and with it went the bomber and its brave crew. * * * * * thig awaited the coming of the ship from ortha on another island. he had accepted the destruction of his long weeks of planning with the fatalism that the horde had taught him. since one plan had fallen through he must use another. he would persuade the orthans that he wanted to return to his own people, and once inside, with a little good fortune, he might be able to destroy them. he had killed his two fellows on the first expedition, but already his fertile imagination had invented a logical explanation of his presence on earth. as the great ship swung down past luna his radiophone came into play. their detectors might pick up his weak signals at this distance even though they would have no reason to expect an orthan ship here on earth. his whole plan was based on the strategy of luring them here before they could start a thorough exploration of earth. time went by swiftly, too swiftly, for there was no answer from the ship. he thought of taking off to meet them, but already the ship must be screaming down through the upper atmosphere. he shouted into the transmitter. a grating sound came from the receiver. a hollow sound of contact that he sensed rather than heard. a cold emotionless voice spoke in the strangely unfamiliar language of the horde. "who is calling the ship from planet -p- ?" it demanded. "a fellow hordeman from ortha," replied thig hurriedly. "i escaped from the space cruiser commanded by torp, after madness claimed him. he struck down kam first, and then attacked me. after he left me for dead, i took a lifeboat and escaped." "you are thig?" said the even voice of the man from ortha. "that is right," acknowledged the other. "urol, commanding the second expeditionary flight to sector -z," the hordeman identified himself. "with me are three others: brud, zolg, and turb." "zolg and turb i know," said thig. "we trained together." "our detectors show that your location is in the largest body of water, near the eastern shore of the principal land mass of planet -p- . is that correct?" "right. there is room to berth five like yours upon this uninhabited island. here we will be safe from the mad ones." thig could almost see the hordeman's smooth brow furrow with the unaccustomed task of thinking. the majority of the horde's thinking was automatic, seldom did an alien thought intrude upon their formulized system of life. he smiled tautly--another gift from the dead man whose memories he had robbed was that of humor--as he listened for urol's answer. there could be only one logical explanation for thig's words. and urol, like all the hordemen, was a coldly logical being. "there is madness on this world then?" urol asked. "that is right." thig drew upon the story-telling genius of terry as he related the carefully plotted story that would permit him entrance to the orthan ship. they must believe him.... "there is madness on this world, indeed," he went on, after a moment, "but it did not originate here. kam and torp, when they returned from the watery planet, planet -p- , brought back the virus of madness with them. both of them were infected, and their brief stay on this planet served to spread the disease here also. "all over earth, or as we call it, -p- , the madness is spreading. where there was peace and plenty there is now war and starvation. most of this sub-human animal race will be wiped out before this madness has run its course." "yet you escaped its ravages," urol said. "have you discovered how to control this madness?" "but i did not escape," thig told him. "for many days after i returned to earth i was insane. torp and kam had infected me as well. but i am strong, and i threw off the disease. at intervals it recurs but i strap myself down so i cannot harm myself before the madness passes." "by the law of the horde," said urol slowly, "you should be destroyed if the disease is incurable." "i know. i feared that another expedition would come and carry the madness back to the horde. i kept myself alive to warn you. i will show you the ravages of the disease, and then destroy myself." "it is good," agreed urol. "we are preparing to land now." the communication link snapped between them. above the island a tiny black speck swelled until it became a vast grubby bulk of metal supported by flaring jets of gaseous fuel. the thick ship slowed its sheer drop, and with a final burst of fire from blackened jets, came to rest. thig looked to his decomposition blaster to see that it was thoroughly charged. this was perhaps the hundredth time he had examined his weapon. he chuckled at the ease with which the leader of the mother planet's ship had been tricked into believing his fantastic tale. all that remained now was to gain admission into the space ship. he left his own little life boat and walked toward the space cruiser. he reached the outer lock and attempted to open it. it was stuck. he tugged futilely at the pitted metal of the controls, and after a moment hammered at the door with a lump of volcanic rock. a speaker from just inside the door broke in upon his labor. he dropped the rock and listened. "why do you attack the door?" it asked. "the lock is stuck," answered thig. "no," the hordeman's voice said, "the lock is not stuck. it is sealed against the possibility of contamination from the atmosphere of -p- ." "i cannot join you?" asked thig as calmly as he could. despair contracted his vitals as he saw this latest plan go glimmering. "naturally not!" the speaker's voice showed as much surprise as it was possible for an orthan to display. "we can take no chances on the madness infecting any of us before we carry this information back to ortha." "i will tell you as much as i know," said thig. "it is fortunate that i am outside the ship." "yes," agreed the voice. "better that one die instead of four. the resources of the horde must be conserved." * * * * * all through that first night after the space ship landed beside his little life boat, thig lay on his sleeping deck trying to work out another method to overcome the four hordemen inside their sturdy cruiser. explosives were out; he had lost his opportunity to blast the great ship into shards when the allied bomber had mistaken them for japanese supplies. trickery that would permit him to gain entrance was negated by the sealed ports and locks of the space cruiser. he could not blast an opening through the ship's skin with his decomposition blaster--it was designed to destroy only flesh or vegetable matter. nor could he lure a japanese or allied force of bombers to attack the orthan ship. the weapons of the space cruiser would destroy such crude-winged mechanisms as might be thrown against them, and her own hull could not be damaged save by the most concentrated surprise attack. he knew how the earthmen would work--a cautious bomber or two could attack first, and then, too late, a swarm of fighting planes and bombers would follow. he could not lure brave allied fliers to their death in any such fashion, nor did he think that the yellow airmen could cause any worth-while damage--not that he cared how many of them were destroyed! he might be an alien being from another world, but there was now no more loyal american than thig. he had permitted the identity of lewis terry to overcome his own entirely. no, he would have to solve this problem by himself. upon thig, and thig alone, rested the future of the two billions of mankind. if the horde saw through his fanciful story about the disease that was carried from venus in the bodies of kam and torp, earth would soon be overrun by the horde. the horde was unimaginative and logical in all that it did, a robot race of super ant-beings--and they would destroy all the human race to prevent any future revolt. but if he could somehow thwart them; destroy this expedition, or send back another mute shipload of dead bodies as he had already done, earth might not be visited again for several centuries. and she would be ready then, with a fully developed science of her own, to beat off any invasion from ortha. he would have to play out the game as he had started it, until an opportunity came to strike, and then he would strike hard. he went over the story he had already told the orthans, testing it for weak points that might give him the lie, and at last he was satisfied. in no way he had offended logic--the great war that had spread across earth since he first arrived would but serve to corroborate his story. with morning the explosion of bombs brought thig to his feet. he cursed as he saw three airplanes circling overhead. they had come to investigate the mighty explosion that had sent a tidal wave rolling over the nearby atolls probably, but this was going to make it awkward for thig to finish his task. the ships were japanese light bombers he saw. they must have seen the circles that he had painted upon his tiny space ship, and mistaken the space cruiser for a larger allied ship of some new design. his receiver crackled as he answered the curt demands of urol. "they are the mad ones," thig said. "their madness causes them to fight among themselves. they drop their puny explosives foolishly upon the homes of other human cattle, taking great pleasure in wanton slaughter." "but why do they attack us?" asked urol. "our ship cannot be harmed by their containers of expanding gases!" "it is because they are insane, their minds diseased hopelessly." thig smiled to himself. "i will go up to meet them, and destroy them with one of their own weapons." "that is unnecessary," said urol, "our own armament...." * * * * * thig snapped off the receiver. he sprang to the controls, and sent the little ship rocketing skyward. he patted the heavy machine-gun that had been part of his loot from one of the sunken transports. it was mounted in the nose of his craft, and already it had knocked a score of zeros and other jap planes from the skies. he dove upon one of the crawling winged enemy ships. the gun chattered briefly, and smoke and flames curled back from the doomed plane's engine. one! another airplane climbed clumsily up to meet this wingless metal arrow. his sights centered on the target. abruptly the enemy ship was gone, whiffed away by the terrific invisible rays of the space cruiser's atomic batteries. thig frowned. these orthans! thig climbed. the remaining jap ship did not attempt escape. instead it dove straight upon its target. down it went screaming, its wings ripping away from the fuselage with the battering of the air at this terrific speed, even as the atomic cannons blasted again and again. the space ship's guns handled awkwardly on the ground. suddenly, the airplane disintegrated as an atomic bolt hit it squarely. the space ship ceased firing, and thig slipped his ship back to earth. he clicked open his transmitter. "you will be destroyed before we return to ortha," said urol. "we cannot permit one of the horde to live whose body and brain differ from the rest of us." "that is right," agreed thig. "i should have killed myself before you came." he paused. "i should not have tried to warn you." "you are wrong again," urol told him. "this madness destroys your reason. you were right in living until we came, to warn us. now we can warn the horde that -p- will be unsafe for colonization for many years." thig felt his lips twitch into a grin. fortunate that these ships were not equipped with telescreens. his story had convinced the methodical, robot-like orthans. if he could keep them from learning that there was actually no madness on earth until he could contrive to destroy them. the next words of the commander of the space cruiser sounded thunder-loud in his ears, tumbling his plans into ruin. "we will return to ortha with our reports at once," said urol. * * * * * thig sat frozen in his seat for a long moment staring at the transmitter. if he could only be certain that the horde would find no flaws in his story; that earth would never know the destruction that the horde would bring. and then he laughed. fool! the orthans were unimaginative as domesticated cattle. they were robotized animals, all but devoid of intelligence. he should have remembered sooner, for he had been one of the horde before he stole the memories of an earthman, and fell in love with the dead man's woman! until he came to earth, thig had never known that there was such a thing as a lie. among the men of ortha there was no deceit or treachery. if they killed or destroyed, it was necessary. if they related any happening, however unimportant, it was painstakingly accurate. imagination was a word that was meaningless among the disciplined billions of the horde. they would not detect a lie for they would not recognize one! earth was safe. "that is good," he said. "i will wait until you leave earth, and then i will destroy the ship and myself." over china they knifed, over the ruined cities and bomber fields, and down across russia where vast armies locked in bloody combat. they saw here again great cities that were ravaged by war. higher they climbed above the ocean, until, above north america, thig dropped behind the great cruiser. he called the commander of the space cruiser then. "my fuel is almost exhausted," he said. "prepare to dive into the earth," said urol in his emotionless voice. "we cannot waste the power of our ship to ray you. the senseless assaults of the madmen caused us to waste much of our power." "i am leaving now," said thig. "may the law of the horde endure forever!" and under his breath: "on ortha." thig let the life boat drop away from the other ship. slowly it fell at first, and then faster as gravity gripped it. fifty miles the ship must fall before it smashed into the ground. by that time the cruiser would be already beyond the orbit of the moon, and all they would see would be the moment of impact. friction was heating the metal skin of the ship slowly as it fell. thig locked the controls; set the rocket relays for increasingly powerful thrusts of power, and waddled clumsily out through the lock into the frigid thin air of the stratosphere. he stepped out into emptiness. inside the space suit it was warm, and the air was clean. when he had fallen a few miles farther he would open the glider wings, that were built into all orthan suits instead of parachutes, and land on long island. but not until he was sheltered by the clouds from the view of the space cruiser. he was going back to ellen and the children with the knowledge that earth was saved from the horde--saved by nothing more deadly than a lie! and the part of thig's brain that was lewis terry was already busying itself with the plotting of a western novel about the handcart pioneers.... once he had rescued brazos from that apache-ringed mesa, he would get to work on it.... the violators by eando binder _some wonderful odds and ends of mother earth had escaped the fiery incinerator of time. and the most significant of all--metallic, angular and ancient--lem starglitter blake carried proudly in his dirty old prospector's bag._ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories fall . extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] he was excited, the little man with the big find. he drove his battered old space tub down at the world which lay frozen over and lifeless since long ago. but not completely abandoned. far from it. he joined the long line of ships making the pilgrimage to the ancient, original home of the human race. below lay a transparent dome, the largest z-model of , capacity, into whose ample entry locks the ships filed down, one by one. some had to circle, waiting their turn. he licked his lips impatiently. at times he grinned and savored the delay, in view of what lay ahead. at last he chugged in and parked his grimy little tub beside shiny yachts and towering spaceliners and spacebuses. the canned air of the dome was fresh to his lungs, compared to the reek of his cabin. he dug a tip out of his frayed jeans for the parking attendant, not quite daring to snub him. he winced at the sneer over the small coin. but no more sneers like that, soon. and plenty more money, with what he had in his bag. he smiled and mumbled as he walked away, swinging the leather bag at his side, bulging with something angular. he filed his way among others toward the turnstiles leading to the main exhibit area. tourists, vacationers, families with kids, school groups, newsmen, galactic trotters, earnest scholars. you could find all types here, from every walk of life and from any distant planet, drawn like a magnet to this "must" for all travelers. it was _the_ sight to see around the milky way. certainly nothing could beat its appeal as the birthplace of mankind. nothing, that is, except the gay and fabulous carnival of castor, whose attendance record could never be topped. he tried to rush through the turnstile but was halted by the green-clad guard. "i'm in a hurry, mister," he mumbled in his wispy voice, from an oxygen-burned throat. he began opening his bag. "look what i found--" the guard heard not a word. "we keep a register of all visitors to mother earth. name? home world? occupation?" it was odd how even the guard's routine voice lowered a tone on the words "mother earth." "lem starglitter blake," said the little old man in unkempt jeans and patched boots. the guard's lip twitched slightly. lem blake wished he had left out the middle name. why had parents of that generation taken to such frothy names? red-faced, blake went on with a rush. "born on antares iv. prospector for ore strikes. but listen, i made the biggest strike of all. not ore but--" "next," said the guard. lem blake swallowed the rest and moved on. people wouldn't treat him that way later, he consoled himself in secret gloating, clutching his bag. he could take it for a short time more without bitterness. another guard eyed the bag sternly. "i must warn you, sir, there is no souvenir hunting allowed here. understand, sir?" "i'm not going to take anything," blake tried to protest. "i'm bringing something--" "your bag will be emptied and examined when you leave," dismissed the guard. they were all so big and important in their flashy uniforms. but just wait, thought blake, just wait. we'll see who's big and important later. but blake could see why they were so cautious. all around, enclosed in the giant plastic bubble, were the hoary ruins of a city, moldered to fragility. if the hordes of visitors were allowed to snatch souvenirs, the place would be picked clean as a bone. ancient new york, said a sign, main city of home earth in pre-space days. people stared in the proper awe due such time-honored relics of antique glory. it was from this terribly old civilization that the race of starmen had sprung, inheriting the galaxy. various individual exhibits among the ruins were labeled--a broken wheel, a shred of tapestry under glass, a coil of wire, pottery, bits of jewelry, a bleached human skull. odds and ends that had escaped the incinerator of time. there wasn't much left after rock-wearing centuries. priceless, those few dozens of relics. lem blake grew excited again at what lay in his bag. it would command a price, maybe enough to stake him to years of good food, new clothes, his tub overhauled, leisure and fun. maybe more, much more. it all depended. blake knew all the busy guards would ignore him. he must reach higher authority. he hurried to the central auditorium where the staff lecturer spoke sonorously to the hushed crowd packed shoulder to elbow. blake took a long breath at the outer fringes and began squeezing his way closer to the rostrum. it was slow work in the human jam. he heard the speech as he struggled on. "--though today we are born and live and die on many worlds, my fellow humans, we all come from the original stock of this particular planet. it was from this small and quite backward th century world that mankind leaped to the stars." lem blake suddenly choked on a chuckling thought in the dead quiet of the listening throng. a circle of eyes transfixed him at the unspeakable crime. mumbling apologies, blake pressed on. professor john nova mckay went on with the stock lecture. how many times had it been repeated now, some , ? he himself had delivered it over a thousand times. it was hard to keep the monotony out of his tones. "ships roared into space at the end of the th century. first, to explore and pioneer on nearby worlds of the same sun. by the th century, they had the hyper drive, permitting speeds greater than light. then began the second phase of building a galactic commonwealth. those were days of glory." the speaker tried to lift his voice on those words but it fell flat in his own ears. but the audience hung on it, caught in the dramatic thought that their own feet stood where all that had started. "this is all ancient space history going back , years, and many of its details and records are lost. but we know that by the th century we humans ranged all through the milky way, settling, colonizing, setting up trade with native races. worlds existed in vast numbers, many habitable." blake stopped muttering apologies as he elbowed his way inch by inch. the apologies drew frosty frowns, and were the last thing they wanted. they wanted silence. only blake's bag insisted on clanking now and then. he kept on doggedly. professor mckay's voice rolled over the rapt faces. "today, there are over a million commonwealth planets, about half under native rule, friendly to us. on the other half no native intelligence survived, and they thus became our own home planets. earthmen came to dominate the galaxy but only in the sense that they were the single largest and most prolific race." mckay's dry voice quickened now, as the most unique part of the stock historical story came at last. "but strangely, during that era of galactic expansion, earth itself gradually faded out of the picture. more and more people left, seeking better homes, richer opportunities, more desirable locations and neighborhoods in the galaxy. population fell on earth. "this was all hastened and brought to a focus when the sun of earth suddenly began dimming in the th century. an old star, that sun died. in a short time, by the cosmic clock, another ice age fell on earth--the final one. the oceans froze solid and all land areas turned to bleak wasteland." there was a suitable pause at this point for the audience to weigh that calamitous event. people stood hushed, half in ancient sorrow. blake stopped, hardly daring to breathe. one clank now and he might be thrown out. "of course, long before the final death of the planet, the last earthmen had left for other waiting homes. there was no swift storylike doom. no panic or hardship or loss of life. and then, perhaps inevitably but still queerly, earth receded in all human memory and was forgotten." the speaker paused again. it always came on cue here, a gasp from the audience, as certainly as the "ahs" and "ohs" of a fireworks display. the bald statement always had its shock effect on any audience, and here on hallowed earth itself. lem starglitter blake resumed his slow progress toward the rostrum, glad for the noise. * * * * * professor mckay braced himself, winced, and went on. who had written the original purple prose for the lecture? yet it could not be changed now. not without an act of the galactic congress. "yes, mother earth was forgotten and abandoned as it floated frozen and lifeless about its dying primary. forlorn, deserted. nobody came to visit earth any more, for any reason. nor any of its sister planets, as they too were sheathed in ice. earth became a ghost world. "and as centuries marched on, with humanity busy on many thriving worlds, all records were lost as to where earth might be. earth fell into the category of a vague legend, known only to be a frozen globe circling a sun once typed g-o. but there were a hundred such. which one was earth's sun? nobody knew any more." blake stepped on somebody's toes and was roundly cursed. but he kept on, clutching his bag. they'd be sorry. all this would change when he showed what he had. "imagine it, friends. by the th century, even the name 'earth' had faded from collective memory. most humans living and dying on the worlds of arcturus, vega, pollux or any others didn't even know that the race had come from earth originally. they almost thought themselves native life. we no longer called ourselves earthmen by then. that term fell into discard too. we were starmen. and so, for an age, lonely earth was lost in space, unsung, unknown, unhallowed." mckay went on by rote, thinking of dinner. "it was not till the th century that the galactic historical society decided to make a shrine of mother earth, original home of the starmen, as turned up in a musty record. but where _was_ earth? vague records helped nothing. picture how aghast they were. finally, they had to organize a galactic hunt for earth that took a century." lem blake sweated as he forged on through the packed crowd. if only his bag didn't bump against shins producing two noises, one metallic, the other human and angry. but later, when they heard, they wouldn't mind. blake grinned. maybe they'd tell of it proudly. "the ships searched everywhere for unmarked earth, known only to be a frozen world of a dead sun. it was not even known how many planets had circled earth's sun. some thought three, others nine, again thirteen. nobody could submit proof one way or another, so it became a blind search in a cosmic haystack. a star search. "the only real clue was that it must be in the vicinity of sirius, since it was known that such star systems as centauri, barnard and epsilon eridani held the earliest colonies of starmen. earth had to be somewhere among this general group, since the starmen expanded outward slowly, jumping from near stars to far stars. "all frozen worlds among that narrowed-down group were visited, for any tell-tale signs as to which would be earth itself. they often had to burn down with atomic torches through glacial ice to examine ancient ruins." blake glared back at an indignant glare. he grew bolder as his goal neared. not far now, another hundred feet. "ultimately, the most likely evidence pointed to one certain planet: the one we stand on today. under the ice and hoar frost was found this ancient city whose ruins now surround you. a few scraps of chiseled wording on cornerstones matched the earliest writings of earth we know of, at least prior to the th century. and so, we had found the forgotten world, mother earth." mckay remembered to make his voice ring just in time. "the ghs then enthusiastically gave earth its deserved and honored niche in galactic history. a dome, many times replaced and enlarged, was set up around the city ruins. precious ruins, for they proved the only ones found on earth. all else had vanished to dust. visitors were welcomed. earth became a shrine. in the past nine centuries, no less than twelve billions of our scattered people, from all corners of the galaxy, have made the pilgrimage here to home earth." blake was close now, panting, not caring how he swung the bag. mckay was close now, too, to the end of his lecture. "think once, my galactic fellowmen. this we believe was new york, main metropolis of ancient earth. the then-existing oceans are gone, the continents utterly changed and jumbled, and the day is far longer than at that time. everything of that long past era is obliterated in dusty time, except these few ruins. "but this is earth. our home planet. our mother world. in reverent honor to our vanished ancestors of this alpha world, we ask that you bow your heads in silent tribute for a moment." * * * * * blake had just reached the rostrum and was yelling, "hey, mr. speaker. i'm lem blake and i got something to show you--" blake froze in horror even as his weak voice rang out like a gong in the pin-drop silence that had just fallen. but what did it matter now? he leaped on the rostrum before the startled lecturer. "listen," said blake hurriedly. "listen what i found--" "shut up," hissed mckay, snapping off the sound system. "nothing like this happened in years, a lecture interrupted. you fool. don't ruin it all for them. see me later." mckay tried to shove blake bodily off the platform. but blake twisted free. if he did not go through with it now, guards would come and hustle him out of the dome. "look, here in my bag," he begged. "an old-time relic, one i stumbled on looking for paydirt under deep ice. i knew it was a real old timer when i saw it. maybe it's the biggest strike i ever made." mckay took his hand away from blake's collar. "another relic of earth, you mean? they're so scarce ... let me see it. hurry, man." at last blake fumbled it out of his bag and held it up. two cross-pieces of rusted metal, welded at right angles to a common bar, freakishly preserved by some oily patina, and with lettering still legible in white. from under glacial ice, it must be old as old. fifth avenue read one cross-piece, to professor mckay's trained eye. the other, nd street. he stared. blake grinned suddenly. "and you know where i found it? not here on procyon v but over on sol iii. you know, about eleven light-years galactic east." blake grinned more, shrewdly measuring what he saw in mckay's face, and let go his bombshell, whose fuse had been burning uncertainly inside him all this time. "so this was the wrong earth all the time, eh? guess that really rocks you. it'll rock the galaxy too. i'll be famous--" "don't be a fool," hissed the professor, signalling guards. "you're mistaken ... that is--but i'll explain later." as the guards dragged blake off, mckay said, "take him to my office. see that he keeps his mouth shut till i get there." in a moment, the reconnected sound system blared out to the puzzled audience--"please pardon the rude interruption. and in conclusion, as we stand reverently on mother earth--" _my gawd! did he think he was the first one? and did he think we'd change now after nine hundred years?_