Journey to the Center of the Earth Jules Verne (rainbow fish read aloud txt) 📖

“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 Snæfells. 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 feebleminded 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 overruled the obstinate Professor; if it were needed, we might perhaps have compelled him to regain the heights of Snæfells.

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!”

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