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 14th. 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, +32 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