eposited 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 coul
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