Well Said, Old Mole! Can You Dig So Fast?

By the next day we had forgotten all our sufferings. At first, I was wondering that I was no longer thirsty, and I was for asking for the reason. The answer came in the murmuring of the stream at my feet.

By the next day, we had forgotten all our suffering. At first, I wondered why I was no longer thirsty and was about to ask. Then the murmuring stream at my feet gave me the answer.

We breakfasted, and drank of this excellent chalybeate water. I felt wonderfully stronger, and quite decided upon pushing on. Why should not so firmly convinced a man as my uncle, furnished with so industrious a guide as Hans, and accompanied by so determined a nephew as myself, go on to final success? Such were the magnificent plans which struggled for mastery within me. If it had been proposed to me to return to the summit of Snæfell, I should have indignantly declined.

We ate breakfast and drank the excellent iron-rich water. I felt much stronger and was determined to press on. Why shouldn't we succeed? My uncle was so convinced, Hans was such a hardworking guide, and I was such a determined nephew. Such magnificent plans competed for control of my thoughts. If anyone had suggested returning to the summit of Snæfell, I would have refused indignantly.

Most fortunately, all we had to do was to descend.

Luckily, all we had to do was go down.

"Let us start!" I cried, awakening by my shouts the echoes of the vaulted hollows of the earth.

"Let's go!" I cried, my shouts echoing through the vaulted hollows of the earth.

On Thursday, at 8 a.m., we started afresh. The granite tunnel winding from side to side, earned us past unexpected turns, and seemed almost to form a labyrinth; but, on the whole, its direction seemed to be south-easterly. My uncle never ceased to consult his compass, to keep account of the ground gone over.

On Thursday at 8 a.m., we set out again. The granite tunnel wound from side to side, taking us around unexpected turns. It seemed almost like a maze, but on the whole, it appeared to run southeast. My uncle kept checking his compass to track the ground we had covered.

The gallery dipped down a very little way from the horizontal, scarcely more than two inches in a fathom, and the stream ran gently murmuring at our feet. I compared it to a friendly genius guiding us underground, and caressed with my hand the soft naiad, whose comforting voice accompanied our steps. With my reviving spirits these mythological notions seemed to come unbidden.

The passage sloped down very slightly, barely two inches over six feet. The stream murmured gently at our feet. I imagined it as a friendly spirit guiding us underground. I stroked the gentle water nymph, whose comforting voice accompanied our steps. As my spirits revived, these mythological ideas seemed to come to me unbidden.

As for my uncle, he was beginning to storm against the horizontal road. He loved nothing better than a vertical path; but this way seemed indefinitely prolonged, and instead of sliding along the hypothenuse as we were now doing, he would willingly have dropped down the terrestrial radius. But there was no help for it, and as long as we were approaching the centre at all we felt that we must not complain.

As for my uncle, he was beginning to rage at the horizontal path. He loved nothing better than a vertical path, but this one seemed to stretch on forever. Instead of sliding along the hypotenuse as we were doing, he would gladly have dropped straight down toward the center of the earth. But there was nothing we could do about it. As long as we were getting closer to the center, we felt we must not complain.

From time to time, a steeper path appeared; our naiad then began to tumble before us with a hoarser murmur, and we went down with her to a greater depth.

From time to time, the path grew steeper. Then our naiad tumbled ahead of us with a rougher murmur, and we followed her down deeper.

On the whole, that day and the next we made considerable way horizontally, very little vertically.

Overall, that day and the next, we traveled a considerable distance horizontally, but very little vertically.

On Friday evening, the 10th of July, according to our calculations, we were thirty leagues south-east of Rejkiavik, and at a depth of two leagues and a half.

On Friday evening, July 10, we calculated that we were thirty leagues southeast of Rejkiavik. We were two and a half leagues deep.

At our feet there now opened a frightful abyss. My uncle, however, was not to be daunted, and he clapped his hands at the steepness of the descent.

A terrifying abyss opened at our feet. But my uncle was undaunted. He clapped his hands at the steepness of the descent.

"This will take us a long way," he cried, "and without much difficulty; for the projections in the rock form quite a staircase."

"This will take us a long way without much difficulty," he cried. "The rocks jut out like a staircase."

The ropes were so fastened by Hans as to guard against accident, and the descent commenced. I can hardly call it perilous, for I was beginning to be familiar with this kind of exercise.

Hans secured the ropes to prevent accidents, and we began to descend. I could hardly call the descent dangerous, because I was getting used to this kind of exercise.

This well, or abyss, was a narrow cleft in the mass of the granite, called by geologists a 'fault,' and caused by the unequal cooling of the globe of the earth. If it had at one time been a passage for eruptive matter thrown out by Snæfell, I still could not understand why no trace was left of its passage. We kept going down a kind of winding staircase, which seemed almost to have been made by the hand of man.

This well, or abyss, was a narrow crack in the granite. Geologists call it a 'fault.' It was caused by the uneven cooling of the earth. If it had once been a passage for eruptive material from Snæfell, I still could not understand why it had left no trace. We kept going down a kind of winding staircase that seemed almost to have been made by human hands.

Every quarter of an hour we were obliged to halt, to take a little necessary repose and restore the action of our limbs. We then sat down upon a fragment of rock, and we talked as we ate and drank from the stream.

Every fifteen minutes, we had to stop, rest a little, and get our limbs moving again. We sat on a piece of rock and talked as we ate and drank from the stream.

Of course, down this fault the Hansbach fell in a cascade, and lost some of its volume; but there was enough and to spare to slake our thirst. Besides, when the incline became more gentle, it would of course resume its peaceable course. At this moment it reminded me of my worthy uncle, in his frequent fits of impatience and anger, while below it ran with the calmness of the Icelandic hunter.

Of course, the Hansbach fell down this fault in a cascade and lost some of its water. But there was more than enough left to quench our thirst. Besides, once the slope grew gentler, the stream would of course flow peacefully again. At that moment, it reminded me of my dear uncle in one of his frequent fits of impatience and anger. Farther down, it flowed as calmly as the Icelandic hunter.

On the 6th and 7th of July we kept following the spiral curves of this singular well, penetrating in actual distance no more than two leagues; but being carried to a depth of five leagues below the level of the sea. But on the 8th, about noon, the fault took, towards the south-east, a much gentler slope, one of about forty-five degrees.

On July 6 and 7, we continued following the spiral curves of this strange well. We traveled only two leagues in actual distance, but descended to five leagues below sea level. On July 8, around noon, the fault took a much gentler slope toward the southeast, at about forty-five degrees.

Then the road became monotonously easy. It could not be otherwise, for there was no landscape to vary the stages of our journey.

Then the road became tediously easy. It could hardly have been otherwise, because there was no scenery to vary the journey.

On Wednesday, the 15th, we were seven leagues underground, and had travelled fifty leagues away from Snæfell. Although we were tired, our health was perfect, and the medicine chest had not yet had occasion to be opened.

On Wednesday the 15th, we were seven leagues underground and fifty leagues from Snæfell. Although we were tired, we were in perfect health, and we had not yet needed to open the medicine chest.

My uncle noted every hour the indications of the compass, the chronometer, the aneroid, and the thermometer the very same which he has published in his scientific report of our journey. It was therefore not difficult to know exactly our whereabouts. When he told me that we had gone fifty leagues horizontally, I could not repress an exclamation of astonishment, at the thought that we had now long left Iceland behind us.

Every hour, my uncle recorded the readings of the compass, chronometer, aneroid barometer, and thermometer. These were the same readings he published in his scientific report of our journey. So it was easy to know exactly where we were. When he told me we had traveled fifty leagues horizontally, I could not help exclaiming in astonishment. We had left Iceland behind us long ago.

"What is the matter?" he cried.

“What’s wrong?” he cried.

"I was reflecting that if your calculations are correct we are no longer under Iceland."

“I was thinking that if your calculations are right, we're no longer under Iceland.”

"Do you think so?"

"Do you think so?"

"I am not mistaken," I said, and examining the map, I added, "We have passed Cape Portland, and those fifty leagues bring us under the wide expanse of ocean."

"I'm not mistaken," I said. I looked at the map and added, "We have passed Cape Portland, and those fifty leagues bring us beneath the vast ocean."

"Under the sea," my uncle repeated, rubbing his hands with delight.

"Under the sea," my uncle repeated, rubbing his hands with delight.

"Can it be?" I said. "Is the ocean spread above our heads?"

"Could it be?" I said. "Is the ocean above our heads?"

"Of course, Axel. What can be more natural? At Newcastle are there not coal mines extending far under the sea?"

"Of course, Axel. What could be more natural? Aren't there coal mines in Newcastle that extend far under the sea?"

It was all very well for the Professor to call this so simple, but I could not feel quite easy at the thought that the boundless ocean was rolling over my head. And yet it really mattered very little whether it was the plains and mountains that covered our heads, or the Atlantic waves, as long as we were arched over by solid granite. And, besides, I was getting used to this idea; for the tunnel, now running straight, now winding as capriciously in its inclines as in its turnings, but constantly preserving its south-easterly direction, and always running deeper, was gradually carrying us to very great depths indeed.

It was easy for the Professor to call this simple, but I felt uneasy knowing the boundless ocean was rolling above my head. Yet it hardly mattered whether plains and mountains or Atlantic waves lay above us, as long as solid granite arched over our heads. Besides, I was getting used to the idea. The tunnel ran sometimes straight and sometimes winding, sloping as unpredictably as it turned. But it kept heading southeast and always led deeper, gradually carrying us to a very great depth.

Four days later, Saturday, the 18th of July, in the evening, we arrived at a kind of vast grotto; and here my uncle paid Hans his weekly wages, and it was settled that the next day, Sunday, should be a day of rest.

Four days later, on the evening of Saturday, July 18, we arrived at a vast cave. There, my uncle paid Hans his weekly wages, and we agreed to rest the next day, Sunday.