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Journey to the Center of the Earth
Chapter 17. DEEPER AND DEEPER. THE COAL MINE
In truth, we were forced to put ourselves on rations.
Our supply would certainly last no more than three days.
I found this out around supper time.
The worst part was that, in what's called the transition rocks, we could hardly expect to find water.
I had read about the horrors of thirst.
And I knew that where we were a short trial of its suffering would end our adventure and our lives.
But it was useless to argue the matter with my uncle.
He'd answer with some saying from Plato.
During the whole of the next day we went on through this endless gallery, arch after arch, tunnel after tunnel.
We traveled without speaking, we had become as silent and reserved as Hans, our guide.
The road no longer seemed to go up.
At times there was no doubt we were going down, but this slope was hardly noticeable.
And it didn't comfort the Professor, because the character of the layers didn't change, and the transition nature of the rocks grew more and more clear.
It was a fine sight to see how the electric light showed the sparkles in the walls of the calcareous rock and the old red sandstone.
One could have thought oneself in one of those deep cuttings in Devonshire, which gave their name to this kind of soil.
Some fine pieces of marble stuck out from the sides of the gallery.
Some were an agate grey with white veins, others were yellow and spotted with red veins.
Farther away I saw colors where cherry colored seams shone in bright shades.
Most of these marbles had the marks of primitive animals.
Since the previous evening, nature and life had clearly gone forward.
Instead of the basic trilobites, I saw remains of a more developed kind.
Among them were fish that a geologist has seen as the first form of reptile.
The Devonian seas were full of animals of this species, which were left by the thousands in the newly formed rocks.
It was clear to me that we were climbing the scale of animal life that ends with man.
My excellent uncle, the Professor, seemed not to notice these signs.
He was determined to go on at any risk.
He must have expected one of two things.
Either a vertical shaft would open under his feet and let him continue to go down.
Or some impassable obstacle would force us to stop and go back the long road we had come.
But evening came again, and to my horror, neither hope was to come true.
On Friday, after a night when I began to feel the sharp pain of thirst and when my appetite fell, our small group rose.
We once more followed the turns and twists and the ups and downs of this endless gallery.
All were silent and gloomy, I could see that even my uncle had gone too far.
After about ten more hours of dull, monotonous progress, I noticed something strange.
The echoes and lamp reflections on the tunnel sides had lessened.
The marble, the schist, the calcareous rocks, the red sandstone had gone, leaving a dark and gloomy wall, dull and without shine.
When we reached a very narrow part of the tunnel, I put my left hand against the rock.
When I took my hand away and looked at it, it was quite black.
We had reached the coal layers of the Central Earth.
"A coal mine!" I cried.
"A coal mine without miners," my uncle answered a little sharply.
"How can we tell?"
"I can tell," my uncle replied in a quick and scholarly tone.
"I'm perfectly certain this gallery through successive layers of coal wasn't cut by the hand of man."
"But whether it's the work of nature or not matters little to us."
"The hour for our evening meal has come."
"Let us sup."
Hans, the guide, set about preparing food.
I had come to the point where I couldn't eat.
All I cared about were the few drops of water that fell to my share.
What I suffered is useless to tell.
The guide's gourd, not quite half full, was all that was left for the three of us.
After they had finished their meal, my two companions lay down on their rugs and found in sleep a cure for their fatigue and pain.
As for me, I couldn't 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 huge excavation.
From its vast size I saw at once that the hand of man couldn't have made this coal mine.
The roof would have fallen in, As it was, it was only held by some miracle of nature.
This great natural cavern was about a hundred feet wide and about a hundred and fifty high.
The earth had clearly been split by some violent underground movement.
The mass, giving way to a huge upheaval of nature, had split in two, leaving the gap into which we had entered.
The whole strange history of the coal period was written on those dark and gloomy walls.
A geologist would have been able to follow the different stages of its formation easily.
The seams of coal were separated by layers of sandstone, a dense clay that looked crushed by the weight from above.
Before the secondary epoch, the earth was covered by vast, rich plant layers because of tropical heat and constant humidity.
A vast cloud of vapor surrounded the earth on all sides, stopping the rays of the sun from ever reaching it.
Therefore these intense heats didn't come from this new source of heat.
Perhaps even the star of day wasn't ready for its bright work to light a universe.
Climates didn't yet exist, and a level heat filled the whole surface of the globe, the same heat at the North Pole as at the equator.
Where did it come from? From the interior of the earth?
Despite all the learned theories of Professor Hardwigg, a fierce and strong fire certainly burned in the guts of the great sphere.
Its action was felt even at the very top crust of the earth.
The plants of that time were deprived of the sun's life-giving rays.
They had no buds, no flowers, and no smell.
Their roots drew a strong and lively life from the burning earth of early days.
There were few trees, only herb-like plants, huge turfs, brambles, and rare mosses, which then existed by the thousands.
It's entirely to this rich vegetation that coal owes its origin.
The crust of the great globe still gave way under the force of the boiling mass forever at work beneath.
Hence many cracks and continual falling in of the upper earth.
The dense mass of plants, being under the waters, soon formed vast accumulations.
Then the action of natural chemistry began.
In the depths of the ocean the plant mass first became turf.
Then , thanks to the action of gases and underground decay, they went through the full process of becoming mineral.
In this way, in early days, those vast and huge layers of coal were formed.
If people do not find cheaper light than gas and cheaper power than steam, growing use will exhaust them in about three centuries.
All these thoughts and the memories of my school studies came to my mind as I looked at these mighty stores of coal.
Their riches, however, are hardly likely ever to be used.
Working these mines could only be done at a cost that would never bring profit.
However, it is hardly worth thinking about when coal is scattered over the globe within a few yards of the upper crust.
As I looked at these untouched layers, I knew they'd remain as long as the world lasts.
While we still went on, I alone forgot the length of the road by giving myself up fully to these geological thoughts.
The temperature stayed much the same as while we were traveling among the lava and the schists.
On the other hand my sense of smell was strongly affected by a very powerful odor.
I knew at once that the gallery was full of that dangerous gas miners call fire damp.
The explosion of it has caused such fearful accidents, making a hundred widows and hundreds of orphans in a single hour.
Luckily, we were able to light our way by means of the Ruhmkorff apparatus.
If we had been so rash and foolish to explore with a torch, a terrible explosion would have ended our travels.
There would simply have been no travelers left.
Our trip through this wonderful coal mine in the very bowels of the earth lasted until evening.
My uncle could hardly hide his impatience and disappointment at the road still going on in a horizontal direction.
The darkness, thick and blocking a few yards ahead and behind, made it impossible to judge the length of the gallery.
For my part, I began to believe that it was simply endless and would go on in the same way for months.
Suddenly, at six o'clock, we stood in front of a wall.
To the right, to the left, above, below, there was no passage.
We had reached a place where the rocks said in clear words No Thoroughfare.
I stood amazed, the guide simply folded his arms, My uncle was silent.
"Well, well, so much the better," my uncle cried at last.
"I now know what we're about."
"We're definitely not on the road followed by Saknussemm."
"All we have to do is go back."
"Let us take one good night's rest and before three days are over, I promise you we'll have regained the point where the galleries divided."
"Yes, we may, if our strength lasts as long," I cried in a miserable voice.
"And why not?"
"Tomorrow, among the three of us, there won't be a drop of water. It's just gone."
"And your courage with it," said my uncle in a stern tone.
What could I say? I turned on my side and from sheer exhaustion fell into a heavy sleep filled with dreams of water.
I woke up unrefreshed, my mouth dry and longing for even a single drop.
I'd have traded a diamond mine for a glass of pure spring water.