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39 - The Explosion and its Results - Journey to the Center of the Earth - Jules Verne · Classic Sci Fi Books - Daily

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  Chapter thirty nine, the explosion and its results. The next day, which
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  was the twenty seventh of August, was a date celebrated in our wondrous subterranean
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  journey. I never think of it even now, but I shudder with horror.
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  My heart beats wildly at the very memory of that awful day. From
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  this time forward, our reason, our judgment, our human ingenuity have nothing
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  to do with the course of events. We are about to become the plaything
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  of the great phenomena of the Earth. At six o'clock we were all up
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  and ready. The dreeded moment was arriving when we were about to seek an
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  opening into the interior of the earth by means of gunpowder. What would be
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  the consequences of breaking through the crust of the earth? I beg that it
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  might be my duty to set fire to the mine. I looked upon it
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  as an honor. This task. Once performed, I could rejoin my friends
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  upon the raft, which had not been unloaded. As soon as we were
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  already we were to sail away to some distance to avoid the consequences of the
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  explosion, the effects of which would certainly not be concentrated in the interior of
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  the earth. The slow match we calculated to burn for about ten minutes more
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  or less before it reached the chamber in which the great body of powder was
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  confined. I should therefore have plenty of time to reach the raft and put
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  off to a safe distance. I prepared to execute myself a lotted task.
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  Not it must be confessed without considerable emotion. After a hearty repast, my
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  uncle and the hunter guide embarked on board the raft, while I remained alone
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  upon the desolate shore. I was provided with a lantern, which was to
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  enable me to set fire to the wick of the infernal machine. Go,
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  my boy, said my uncle, and Heaven be with you. But come
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  back as soon as you can. I shall be all impatience. Be easy
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  on that matter, I replied, there is no fear of my delaying on
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  the road. Having said this, I advanced toward the opening of the somber
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  gallery. My heart beat wildly. I opened my lantern and ceased the extremity
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  of the wick. The professor, who was looking on, held his chronometer
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  in his hand. Are you ready, cried he quite ready? Well,
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  then fire away. I hastened to put the light to the wick, which
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  crackled and sparkled, hissing and spitting like a serpent. Then, running as
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  fast as I could, I returned to the shore. Get on board,
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  my lad and you, Hans, show off, cried my uncle. My
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  vigorous application of his pool Hans sent us flying over the water. The raft
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  was quite twenty fathoms distant. It was a moment of palpitating interest, of
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  deep anxiety. My uncle, the professor, never took his eyes off the
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  chronometer. Only five minutes more, he said, in a low tone,
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  Only four, Only three. My pulse went a hundred to the minute.
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  I could hear my heart beating. Only two one now. Then mountains of
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  granite crumbled beneath the power of man. What happened after that? As to
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  the terrific roar of the explosion, I do not think I heard it,
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  But the form of the rocks completely changed in my eyes. They seemed to
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  be drawn aside like a curtain. I saw a fathomly, a bottomless abyss,
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  which yawned beneath the turgid waves. The sea, which seemed suddenly to
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  have gone mad, then became one great mountainous mass, upon the top of
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  which the raft rose perpendicularly. We were all thrown down. In less than
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  a second, the light gave place to the most profound obscurity. Then I
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  felt all solid support give way, not to my feet, but to the
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  raft itself. I thought it was going bodily down a tremendous well. I
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  tried to speak to question my uncle. Nothing could be heard but the roaring
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  of the mighty waves. We clung together in utter silence, despite the awful
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  darkness, despite the noise, the surprise, the emotion. I thoroughly understood
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  what had happened. Beyond the rock which had been blown up, there existed
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  a mighty abyss. The explosion had caused a kind of earthquake in the soil,
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  broken by fissures and rents. The gulf, thus suddenly thrown open,
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  was about to swallow the inland sea, which transformed into a mighty torrent,
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  was dragging us with it. Only one idea filled my mind. We were
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  utterly and completely lost. One hour, two hours, what more, I
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  cannot say, passed in this manner. We sat close together, elbow touching
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  elbow, knee touching knee. We held one another's hands. Not to be
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  thrown off the raft. We were subjected to the most violent shocks whenever our
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  soul dependence a frail wooden raft struck against the rocky sides of the channel.
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  Fortunately for us, these concussions became less and less frequent, which made me
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  fancy that the gallery was getting wider and wider. There could be now no
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  doubt that we had chanced upon the road once followed by Sacknussom, But instead
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  of going down in a proper manner, we had, through our own imprudence,
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  drawn a whole sea with us. These ideas presented themselves to my mind
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  in a very vague and obscure manner, I felt, rather than reasoned.
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  I put my ideas together only confusedly, while spinning along like a man going
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  down a waterfall. To judge by the air which, as it were,
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  whipped my face, we must have been rushing at a perfectly lightning rate.
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  To attempt, under these circumstances to light a torch was simply impossible, and
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  the last remains of our electric machine, of our Rumkorff coil, had been
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  destroyed during the fearful explosion. I was therefore very much confused to see at
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  last a bright light shining close to me, the calm countenance of the guide
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  seemed to gleam upon me. The clever and patient hunter had succeeded in lighting
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  the lantern, and though in the keen and thorough draft the flame flickered and
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  vacillated, and was nearly put out, it served partially to dissipate the awful
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  obscurity. The gallery into which we had entered was very wide. I was
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  therefore quite right in that part of my conjecture. The insufficient light did not
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  allow us to see both of the walls. At the same time, the
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  slope of waters which was carrying us away was far greater than that of the
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  most rapid river of America. The whole surface of the stream seemed to be
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  composed of liquid arrows darted forward with extreme violence and power. I can give
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  no idea of the impression it made upon me. The raft at times caught
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  in certain whirlpools and rushed forward, yet turned on itself all the time.
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  How it did not upset I shall never be able to understand. When it
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  approached the sides of the gallery, I took care to throw upon them the
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  light of the lantern, and I was able to judge of the rapidity of
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  motion by looking at the projecting masses of rock, which, as soon as
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  seen, were again invisible. So rapid was our progress that points of rock
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  at the considerable distance one from the other appeared like portions of transverse lines,
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  which enclosed us in a kind of net like that of a line of telegraphic
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  wires. I believe we were now going at a rate of not less than
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  a hundred miles an hour. My uncle and I looked at one another with
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  wild and haggard eyes. We clung convulsively to the stump of the mast,
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  which, at the moment when the catastrophe took place, had snapped short off.
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  We turned our backs as much as possible to the wind, in order
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  not to be stifled by a rapidity of motion which nothing human could face and
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  live. And still, the long, monotonous hours went on. The situation
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  did not change in the least, though a discovery I suddenly made seemed to
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  complicate it very much. When we had slightly recovered our equilibrium, I proceeded
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  to examine our cargo. I then made the unsatisfactory discovery that the greater part
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  of it had utterly disappeared. I became alarmed and determined to do discover what
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  were our resources. My heart beat at the idea, but it was absolutely
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  necessary to know on what we had to depend. With this view, I
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  took the lantern and looked around. Of all our former collection of nautical and
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  philosophical instruments, there remained only the chronometer and the compass. The ladders and
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  ropes were reduced to a small piece of rope fastened to the stump of the
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  mast. Not a pickaxe, not a crowbar, not a hammer, and
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  far worse than all, no food, not enough for one day. This
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  discovery was a prelude to a certain and horrible death. Seated gloomily on the
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  raft, clasping the stump of the mast mechanically, I thought of all I
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  had read as to sufferings from starvation. I remembered everything that history had taught
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  me on the subject, and I shuddered at the remembrance of the agonies to
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  be endured. I maddened at the prospects of enduring the miseries of starvation.
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  I persuaded myself that I must be mistaken. I examined the cracks in the
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  raft, I poked between the joints and beams. I examined every possible hole
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  and corner. The result was simply nothing. Our stock of provisions consisted of
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  nothing but a piece of dry meat and some soaked and half moldy biscuits.
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  I gazed around me, scared and frightened. I could not understand the awful
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  truth. And yet of what consequence was it in regard to any new danger.
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  Supposing that we had had provisions for months and even for years, how
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  could we ever get out of the awful abyss into which we were being hurled
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  by the irresistible torrent we had let loose. Why should we trouble ourselves about
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  the sufferings and tortures to be endured from hunger when death stared us in the
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  face under so many other swifter and perhaps even more horrid forms. It was
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  very doubtful, under the circumstances in which we were placed, if we should
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  have time to die of inanition, but the human frame is singularly constituted.
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  I know not how it was, but from some singular hallucination of mind I
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  forgot the real, serious and immediate danger to which we were exposed. To
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  think of the menaces of the future which appeared before us in all the naked
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  terror. Besides after all suggested hope. Perhaps we might finally escape the fury
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  of the raging torrent and once more revisit the glimpses of the moon on the
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  surface of our beautiful mother Earth. How was it to be done? I
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  had not the remotest idea where were we to come out, No matter so
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  that we did. One chance in a thousand is always a chance. While
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  death from hunger gave us not even the faintest glimpse of hope. It left
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  to the imagination nothing but blank horror, without the faintest chance of escape.
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  I had the greatest mind to reveal all to my uncle, to explain to
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  him the extraordinary and wretched position to which we were reduced, in all order
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  that between the two we might make a calculation as to the exact space of
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  time which remained for us to live. It was, it appeared to me,
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  the only thing to be done. But I had the courage to hold
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  my tongue, to ignore at my entrails. Like the spartan boy, I
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  wished to leave him all his coolness. At this moment, the light of
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  the lantern slowly fell and at last went out. The weik had fully burnt
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  to an end, the obscurity became absolute. It was no longer possible to
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  see through the impenetrable darkness. There was one torch left, but it was
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  impossible to keep it alight. Then, like a child, I shut my
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  eyes that I might not see the darkness. After a great lapse of time,
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  the rapidity of our journey in creased. I could feel it by the
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  rush of air upon my face. The slope of the waters was excessive.
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  I began to feel that we were no longer going down a slope. We
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  were falling. I felt, as one does in a dream, going down,
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  bodily falling, falling, falling. I felt that the hands of my
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  uncle and hands were vigorously clasping my arms. Suddenly, after a lapse of
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  time scarcely appreciable, I felt something like a shock. The raft had not
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  struck a hard body, but had suddenly been checked in its course a water
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  spout. A liquid column of water fell upon us. I felt suffocating.
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  I was being drowned. Still, the sudden inundation did not last. In
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  a few seconds, I felt myself once more able to breathe. My uncle
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  and Hans pressed my arms, and the raft carried us. All three away
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  end of chapter thirty nine,