Chapter 11

A Guide to the Centre of the Earth Found

8 min

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.

In the evening, I took a short walk on the beach. At night, I returned to my plank bed and 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.

When I woke up, I heard my uncle talking rapidly in the next room. I got dressed immediately 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.

He was speaking Danish with a tall, strongly built man. This fine fellow must have been very strong. His large, open face had dreamy, sea-blue eyes that seemed very intelligent to me. His long hair fell in strands over his broad shoulders. It would have been called red even in England. The native moved with ease and grace. But he hardly used his arms when he spoke, like a man who knew or cared nothing about gestures. His whole appearance showed perfect calm and self-control. He was not lazy, but tranquil. One could tell at once that he would depend on nobody and worked when it suited him. Nothing in the world could surprise him or disturb his philosophical calm.

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.

I caught glimpses of this Icelander's character as he listened to the Professor's passionate stream of words. He stood with his arms crossed, completely unmoved by my uncle's constant gestures. He said no with a slow shake of his head and yes with a slight nod. The nod was so slight that his long hair barely moved. He was almost stingy with his movements.

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.

I would certainly never have guessed that this man was a hunter. He did not look likely to frighten his game, or even get near it. But M. Fridrikssen explained the mystery. This calm man hunted only eider ducks, whose soft underfeathers were the island’s chief source of wealth. These feathers are the famous eider down, and collecting them requires no great speed.

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.

Early in the summer, the female, a very pretty bird, builds her nest among the rocks of the fiords along the coast. She lines the nest with down plucked from her own breast. Immediately, the hunter, or rather the trader, comes and robs the nest. Then the female starts her work again. This goes on as long as she has any down left. When she has stripped herself bare, the male takes his turn plucking himself. But his coarse, hard feathers have no commercial value, so the hunter does not bother to rob the nest of them. The female therefore lays her eggs in the feathers plucked from her mate. The young hatch, and the harvest begins again the next year.

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.

The eider duck does not nest on steep cliffs. Instead, she chooses smooth, terraced rocks that slope down to the sea. So the Icelandic hunter could do his work without much effort. He was a farmer who did not have to sow or reap his harvest, but only 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.

This serious, calm, and silent man was named Hans Bjelke. He came recommended by M. Fridrikssen. He was to be our guide. His manner was strikingly different from 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.

Still, they soon came to an understanding. Neither cared about the amount of the payment. One was ready to accept whatever was offered, and the other was ready to pay whatever was asked. No bargain was ever made more easily.

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.

Under the agreement, Hans agreed to guide us to the village of Stapi. It lay on the south shore of the Snæfell peninsula, at the very foot of the volcano. The journey over land would be about twenty-two miles. My uncle said we could cover the distance in two days.

But when he learnt that the Danish mile was 24,000 feet long, he was obliged to modify his calculations and allow seven or eight days for the march.

But when he learned that a Danish mile was 24,000 feet long, he had to revise his calculations. He allowed 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. Hans, 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.

Four horses would be provided for us. Two would carry him and me, and two would carry the baggage. As usual, Hans would walk. He knew that entire stretch of coast perfectly and promised to take us by the shortest route.

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.

His employment was not to end when we arrived at Stapi. He was to remain in my uncle’s service throughout his scientific research. He would be paid three rixdales a week (about twelve shillings). But the agreement expressly required that his wages be counted out to him every Saturday at six in the evening. According to him, this was an indispensable part of the agreement.

The start was fixed for the 16th of June. My uncle wanted to pay the hunter a portion in advance, but he refused with one word:

We were set to leave on June 16. My uncle wanted to pay the hunter part of his fee in advance, but he refused with one word:

"Efter," said he.

"Efter," he said.

"After," said the Professor for my edification.

"After," the Professor said, to explain it to me.

The treaty concluded, Hans silently withdrew.

Once the agreement was made, Hans quietly left.

"A famous fellow," cried my uncle; "but he little thinks of the marvellous part he has to play in the future."

"A famous man," my uncle exclaimed. "But he has no idea of the amazing part he will play in the future."

"So he is to go with us as far as—"

"So he is coming with us as far as..."

"As far as the centre of the earth, Axel."

"All the way to the center 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.

Forty-eight hours remained before our departure. To my great regret, I had to spend them preparing. We needed all our ingenuity to pack everything as efficiently as possible. Instruments went here, weapons there, tools in one package, and provisions in another. There were four sets of packages in all.

The instruments were:

The instruments were:

1. An Eigel's centigrade thermometer, graduated up to 150 degrees (302 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.

1. An Eigel's centigrade thermometer, marked up to 150 degrees (302 degrees Fahrenheit). This seemed to me either too high or too low. If the internal heat rose that high, the limit was too high, because we would be baked. Yet it was too low to measure the temperature of springs or molten matter.

2. 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.

2. An aneroid barometer, to measure extreme atmospheric pressures. An ordinary barometer would not have worked. During our descent, the pressure would rise beyond what a mercury barometer could register.

In M. Verne's book, the instrument used is a 'manometer', about which very little is known. The translator cannot find the name in a complete list of scientific instruments. Chadburn, a first-rate instrument maker in Liverpool, has assured him that an aneroid can be constructed to measure any depth. He has therefore thought it best to give the adventurous professor this more familiar instrument. The 'manometer' is generally known as a pressure gauge. (TRANS.)

3. A chronometer, made by Boissonnas, jun., of Geneva, accurately set to the meridian of Hamburg.

3. A chronometer made by Boissonnas, Jr., of Geneva, accurately set to Hamburg time.

4. Two compasses, viz., a common compass and a dipping needle.

4. Two compasses: a standard compass and a dipping needle.

5. A night glass.

5. A telescope for viewing at night.

6. Two of Ruhmkorff's apparatus, which, by means of an electric current, supplied a safe and handy portable light

6. Two of Ruhmkorff's devices, which used an electric current to provide safe, handy portable light

Ruhmkorff's apparatus uses a Bunsen pile powered by bichromate of potash, which produces no smell. An induction coil carries electricity from the pile to a specially constructed lantern. Inside the lantern is a spiral glass tube. The air has been removed, leaving only a small amount of carbonic acid gas or nitrogen. When the apparatus is switched on, the gas glows with a steady white light. The pile and coil are kept in a leather bag that the traveller carries over his shoulders. The lantern hangs outside the bag and provides enough light in deep darkness. It allows travellers to enter even the most flammable gases without fear of explosions. It does not go out, even in the deepest waters. M. Ruhmkorff is a learned and highly ingenious scientist. His great discovery is his induction coil, which produces a powerful stream of electricity. In 1864, he received the five-year prize of 50,000 francs offered by the French government for the most ingenious application of electricity.

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.

The weapons consisted of two Purdy rifles and four pistols. But what did we need weapons for? I supposed we had no savages or wild beasts to fear. But my uncle seemed to have as much faith in his weapons as in his instruments. He especially believed in the considerable quantity of gun cotton he had brought. It is unaffected by moisture and is more explosive than gunpowder.

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 300 feet long.

The tools included two pickaxes, two spades, a silk rope ladder, and three iron-tipped sticks. There was also a hatchet, a hammer, a dozen wedges and iron spikes, and a long knotted rope. It was a large load because the ladder was 300 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.

And there were provisions too. The package was not large, but it was comforting to know we had six months' worth of beef extract and biscuits. Spirits were the only liquid we carried. We took no water, but we had flasks, and my uncle counted on finding springs to fill them. I raised objections about the springs' water quality and temperature, and even the possibility that there might be no springs. But my objections had no effect.

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.

To complete the exact list of everything we took on our journey, I must not forget the pocket medicine chest. It contained blunt scissors, splints for broken limbs, unbleached linen tape, bandages, compresses, lint, and a lancet for bloodletting. They were all dreadful things to take along. There was also a row of small bottles containing dextrine, alcoholic ether, liquid acetate of lead, vinegar, and ammonia. These medicines gave me no comfort. Finally, there was everything needed to operate 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.

My uncle also packed tobacco, coarse gunpowder, and amadou for tinder. He carried enough gold, silver, and paper money in a leather belt. Six pairs of boots and shoes were packed among the tools. They had been waterproofed with a mixture of rubber and naphtha.

"Clothed, shod, and equipped like this," said my uncle, "there is no telling how far we may go."

"Dressed, wearing these shoes, and equipped like this," said my uncle, "there's no telling how far we may go."

The 14th 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.

We spent all of the 14th arranging our various belongings. That evening we dined with Baron Tramps. The mayor of Rejkiavik and Dr. Hyaltalin, the town’s leading doctor, were also there. M. Fridrikssen was absent. I learned afterward that he and the Governor disagreed about some administrative matter and did not speak to each other. So I did not understand a single word of what was said at this semi-official dinner. But I could not help noticing that my uncle talked the whole time.

On the 15th 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 1 to 480,000 of the actual size of the island, and published by the Icelandic Literary Society. It was a precious document for a mineralogist.

By the 15th, all our preparations were complete. Our host delighted the Professor by giving him a map of Iceland far more complete than Hendersen's. It was M. Olaf Nikolas Olsen's map, drawn at a scale of 1 to 480,000. The Icelandic Literary Society had published it. It was a valuable 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.

We spent our last evening in intimate conversation with M. Fridrikssen, for whom I felt a strong sympathy. Afterward, I at least had 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 five in the morning, I woke to the neighing and pawing of four horses beneath my window. I dressed quickly and went down into the street. Hans was finishing our packing, hardly seeming to move a limb, yet he worked skillfully. My uncle made more noise than progress, and the guide seemed to pay 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:

By six o'clock, our preparations were complete. M. Fridrikssen shook hands with us. My uncle thanked him warmly for his great kindness. I composed a few fine Latin sentences to say a heartfelt goodbye. Then we mounted our horses. As a final farewell, M. Fridrikssen treated me to a line from Virgil. It was perfectly suited to wanderers whose journey was likely to be as uncertain as ours:

"Et quacumque viam dedent fortuna sequamur."

"And let us follow whatever path fortune gives us."

"Therever fortune clears a way, Thither our ready footsteps stray."

"Wherever fortune opens a path, We are ready to follow."