Geological Studies on Site

Next day, Tuesday, June 30, at 6 a.m., the descent began again.

The next day, Tuesday, June 30, the descent began again at 6 a.m.

We were still following the gallery of lava, a real natural staircase, and as gently sloping as those inclined planes which in some old houses are still found instead of flights of steps. And so we went on until 12.17, the precise moment when we overtook Hans, who had stopped.

We were still following the lava tunnel, a natural staircase. It sloped as gently as the ramps still found in some old houses instead of stairs. We went on until 12:17, the exact moment we caught up with Hans, who had stopped.

"Ah! here we are," exclaimed my uncle, "at the very end of the chimney."

“Ah! Here we are,” my uncle exclaimed, “at the very end of the chimney.”

I looked around me. We were standing at the intersection of two roads, both dark and narrow. Which were we to take? This was a difficulty.

I looked around. We were standing where two roads met. Both were dark and narrow. Which one should we take? It was a difficult choice.

Still my uncle refused to admit an appearance of hesitation, either before me or the guide; he pointed out the Eastern tunnel, and we were soon all three in it.

Still, my uncle refused to show any hesitation in front of me or the guide. He pointed to the eastern tunnel, and soon all three of us were inside.

Besides there would have been interminable hesitation before this choice of roads; for since there was no indication whatever to guide our choice, we were obliged to trust to chance.

Besides, we would have hesitated endlessly over which road to take. Since nothing guided our choice, we had to leave it to chance.

The slope of this gallery was scarcely perceptible, and its sections very unequal. Sometimes we passed a series of arches succeeding each other like the majestic arcades of a gothic cathedral. Here the architects of the middle ages might have found studies for every form of the sacred art which sprang from the development of the pointed arch. A mile farther we had to bow our heads under corniced elliptic arches in the romanesque style; and massive pillars standing out from the wall bent under the spring of the vault that rested heavily upon them. In other places this magnificence gave way to narrow channels between low structures which looked like beaver's huts, and we had to creep along through extremely narrow passages.

The gallery sloped so gently that we could hardly notice it, and its sections varied greatly. Sometimes we passed through a series of arches, like the majestic arcades of a Gothic cathedral. Here, medieval architects might have found examples of every form of sacred art that grew from the pointed arch. A mile farther on, we had to bow our heads beneath elliptical arches with decorative moldings, in the Romanesque style. Massive pillars jutted from the walls, bending under the weight of the vault above them. Elsewhere, this magnificence gave way to narrow channels between low structures that looked like beavers' huts. We had to crawl through these extremely narrow passages.

The heat was perfectly bearable. Involuntarily I began to think of its heat when the lava thrown out by Snæfell was boiling and working through this now silent road. I imagined the torrents of fire hurled back at every angle in the gallery, and the accumulation of intensely heated vapours in the midst of this confined channel.

The heat was entirely bearable. Without meaning to, I began to think how hot this now silent passage had been. Lava from Snæfell had once boiled and churned through it. I imagined streams of fire bouncing off every turn in the passage. I imagined the intensely hot vapors building up inside the narrow channel.

I only hope, thought I, that this so-called extinct volcano won't take a fancy in his old age to begin his sports again!

I only hope, I thought, that this so-called extinct volcano won't decide to start acting up again in its old age!

I abstained from communicating these fears to Professor Liedenbrock. He would never have understood them at all. He had but one idea—forward! He walked, he slid, he scrambled, he tumbled, with a persistency which one could not but admire.

I kept these fears to myself. Professor Liedenbrock would never have understood them at all. He had only one idea: forward! He walked, slid, scrambled, and tumbled with a determination I could not help but admire.

By six in the evening, after a not very fatiguing walk, we had gone two leagues south, but scarcely a quarter of a mile down.

By six in the evening, we had walked two leagues south without much effort. But we had descended barely a quarter of a mile.

My uncle said it was time to go to sleep. We ate without talking, and went to sleep without reflection.

My uncle said it was time to go to sleep. We ate in silence and went to sleep without giving it a thought.

Our arrangements for the night were very simple; a railway rug each, into which we rolled ourselves, was our sole covering. We had neither cold nor intrusive visits to fear. Travellers who penetrate into the wilds of central Africa, and into the pathless forests of the New World, are obliged to watch over each other by night. But we enjoyed absolute safety and utter seclusion; no savages or wild beasts infested these silent depths.

Our sleeping arrangements were very simple. We each rolled ourselves in a railway blanket, our only covering. We had no reason to fear the cold or unwanted visitors. Travellers who venture into the wilds of central Africa and the pathless forests of the New World must watch over one another at night. But we enjoyed absolute safety and complete seclusion. No savages or wild beasts inhabited these silent depths.

Next morning, we awoke fresh and in good spirits. The road was resumed. As the day before, we followed the path of the lava. It was impossible to tell what rocks we were passing: the tunnel, instead of tending lower, approached more and more nearly to a horizontal direction, I even fancied a slight rise. But about ten this upward tendency became so evident, and therefore so fatiguing, that I was obliged to slacken my pace.

The next morning, we woke up refreshed and in good spirits. We set out again, following the path of the lava as we had the day before. It was impossible to tell what rocks we were passing. Instead of sloping downward, the tunnel was becoming more and more level. I even thought it rose slightly. But by about ten, the upward slope was so obvious and tiring that I had to slow down.

"Well, Axel?" demanded the Professor impatiently.

"Well, Axel?" the Professor asked impatiently.

"Well, I cannot stand it any longer," I replied.

"Well, I can't stand it any longer," I replied.

"What! after three hours' walk over such easy ground."

"What! After walking for three hours over such easy ground."

"It may be easy, but it is tiring all the same."

"It may be easy, but it's still tiring."

"What, when we have nothing to do but keep going down!"

"What? When all we have to do is keep going down!"

"Going up, if you please."

"Going up, please."

"Going up!" said my uncle, with a shrug.

"Going up!" said my uncle, shrugging.

"No doubt, for the last half-hour the inclines have gone the other way, and at this rate we shall soon arrive upon the level soil of Iceland."

"No doubt, the slopes have been going the other way for the past half hour. At this rate, we will soon reach the level ground of Iceland."

The Professor nodded slowly and uneasily like a man that declines to be convinced. I tried to resume the conversation. He answered not a word, and gave the signal for a start. I saw that his silence was nothing but ill-humour.

The Professor nodded slowly and uneasily, like a man who refused to be convinced. I tried to start the conversation again. He said nothing and gave the signal to set off. I could see that he was silent simply because he was in a bad mood.

Still I had courageously shouldered my burden again, and was rapidly following Hans, whom my uncle preceded. I was anxious not to be left behind. My greatest care was not to lose sight of my companions. I shuddered at the thought of being lost in the mazes of this vast subterranean labyrinth.

Still, I bravely shouldered my load again and hurried after Hans. My uncle was ahead of him. I was anxious not to fall behind. Above all, I made sure not to lose sight of my companions. I shuddered at the thought of getting lost in the winding passages of this vast underground maze.

Besides, if the ascending road did become steeper, I was comforted with the thought that it was bringing us nearer to the surface. There was hope in this. Every step confirmed me in it, and I was rejoicing at the thought of meeting my little Gräuben again.

Besides, if the uphill path did become steeper, I was comforted by the thought that it was bringing us closer to the surface. That gave me hope. Every step strengthened that hope, and I was delighted at the thought of seeing my little Gräuben again.

By mid-day there was a change in the appearance of this wall of the gallery. I noticed it by a diminution of the amount of light reflected from the sides; solid rock was appearing in the place of the lava coating. The mass was composed of inclined and sometimes vertical strata. We were passing through rocks of the transition or silurian⁸ system.

By midday, the wall of the passage began to look different. I noticed that less light was reflecting from its sides. Solid rock was appearing in place of the lava coating. The rock was made up of sloping and sometimes vertical layers. We were passing through rocks of the transition or Silurian⁸ system.

"It is evident," I cried, "the marine deposits formed in the second period, these shales, limestones, and sandstones. We are turning away from the primary granite. We are just as if we were people of Hamburg going to Lübeck by way of Hanover!"

"It's clear," I cried, "these shales, limestones, and sandstones are marine deposits formed in the second period. We're turning away from the primary granite. It's as if we were traveling from Hamburg to Lübeck by way of Hanover!"

I had better have kept my observations to myself. But my geological instinct was stronger than my prudence, and uncle Liedenbrock heard my exclamation.

I should have kept my observations to myself. But my geological instinct was stronger than my caution, and uncle Liedenbrock heard me exclaim.

"What's that you are saying?" he asked.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"See," I said, pointing to the varied series of sandstones and limestones, and the first indication of slate.

"Look," I said, pointing to the different layers of sandstone and limestone, and the first signs of slate.

"Well?"

"Well?"

"We are at the period when the first plants and animals appeared."

"We are in the time when the first plants and animals appeared."

"Do you think so?"

"Do you think so?"

"Look close, and examine."

"Look closely and examine it."

I obliged the Professor to move his lamp over the walls of the gallery. I expected some signs of astonishment; but he spoke not a word, and went on.

I made the Professor shine his lamp over the walls of the passage. I expected him to show some surprise, but he said nothing and walked on.

Had he understood me or not? Did he refuse to admit, out of self-love as an uncle and a philosopher, that he had mistaken his way when he chose the eastern tunnel? or was he determined to examine this passage to its farthest extremity? It was evident that we had left the lava path, and that this road could not possibly lead to the extinct furnace of Snæfell.

Had he understood me or not? Was he too proud, as an uncle and a philosopher, to admit he had chosen the wrong tunnel? Or was he determined to follow this passage to the very end? Clearly, we had left the lava path. This passage could not possibly lead to the extinct furnace of Snæfell.

Yet I asked myself if I was not depending too much on this change in the rock. Might I not myself be mistaken? Were we really crossing the layers of rock which overlie the granite foundation?

Yet I wondered if I was relying too much on this change in the rock. Could I be mistaken? Were we really crossing the layers of rock above the granite foundation?

If I am right, I thought, I must soon find some fossil remains of primitive life; and then we must yield to evidence. I will look.

If I am right, I thought, I should soon find some fossils of early life. Then we must accept the evidence. I will look.

I had not gone a hundred paces before incontestable proofs presented themselves. It could not be otherwise, for in the Silurian age the seas contained at least fifteen hundred vegetable and animal species. My feet, which had become accustomed to the indurated lava floor, suddenly rested upon a dust composed of the debris of plants and shells. In the walls were distinct impressions of fucoids and lycopodites.

I had not gone a hundred paces before I found undeniable proof. It could not have been otherwise, because the seas held at least fifteen hundred plant and animal species in the Silurian age. My feet had grown used to the hardened lava floor. Now they suddenly rested on dust made from the debris of plants and shells. The walls bore clear impressions of fucoids and lycopodites.

Professor Liedenbrock could not be mistaken, I thought, and yet he pushed on, with, I suppose, his eyes resolutely shut.

I thought Professor Liedenbrock could not be wrong. Yet he pressed on with his eyes firmly shut, I suppose.

This was only invincible obstinacy. I could hold out no longer. I picked up a perfectly formed shell, which had belonged to an animal not unlike the woodlouse: then, joining my uncle, I said:

This was sheer stubbornness that could not be overcome. I could hold out no longer. I picked up a perfectly formed shell. It had belonged to an animal not unlike a woodlouse. Then I joined my uncle and said:

"Look at this!"

"Look at this!"

"Very well," said he quietly, "it is the shell of a crustacean, of an extinct species called a trilobite. Nothing more."

"All right," he said quietly, "it's the shell of a crustacean from an extinct species called a trilobite. Nothing more."

"But don't you conclude—?"

"But don't you conclude...?"

"Just what you conclude yourself. Yes; I do, perfectly. We have left the granite and the lava. It is possible that I may be mistaken. But I cannot be sure of that until I have reached the very end of this gallery."

"Exactly what you think. Yes, I do, completely. We have left the granite and lava behind. I may be mistaken. But I can't be sure until I reach the very end of this passage."

"You are right in doing this, my uncle, and I should quite approve of your determination, if there were not a danger threatening us nearer and nearer."

"You're right to do this, Uncle. I'd fully support your decision if a danger weren't getting closer and closer to us."

"What danger?"

"What danger?"

"The want of water."

"The lack of water."

"Well, Axel, we will put ourselves upon rations."

"Well, Axel, we'll have to ration our supplies."