A Journey to the Centre of the Earth | Page 8

contrived to get
sufficient to satisfy our voracious appetites.
During the repast my uncle was rather gay than otherwise. He made some of those
peculiar jokes which belong exclusively to the learned. As soon, however, as dessert was
over, he called me to his study. We each took a chair on opposite sides of the table.
"Henry," he said, in a soft and winning voice; "I have always believed you ingenious, and
you have rendered me a service never to be forgotten. Without you, this great, this

wondrous discovery would never have been made. It is my duty, therefore, to insist on
your sharing the glory."
"He is in a good humor," thought I; "I'll soon let him know my opinion of glory."
"In the first place," he continued, "you must keep the whole affair a profound secret.
There is no more envious race of men than scientific discoverers. Many would start on
the same journey. At all events, we will be the first in the field."
"I doubt your having many competitors," was my reply.
"A man of real scientific acquirements would be delighted at the chance. We should find
a perfect stream of pilgrims on the traces of Arne Saknussemm, if this document were
once made public."
"But, my dear sir, is not this paper very likely to be a hoax?" I urged.
"The book in which we find it is sufficient proof of its authenticity," he replied.
"I thoroughly allow that the celebrated Professor wrote the lines, but only, I believe, as a
kind of mystification," was my answer.
Scarcely were the words out of my mouth, when I was sorry I had uttered them. My uncle
looked at me with a dark and gloomy scowl, and I began to be alarmed for the results of
our conversation. His mood soon changed, however, and a smile took the place of a
frown.
"We shall see," he remarked, with decisive emphasis.
"But see, what is all this about Yocul, and Sneffels, and this Scartaris? I have never heard
anything about them."
"The very point to which I am coming. I lately received from my friend Augustus
Peterman, of Leipzig, a map. Take down the third atlas from the second shelf, series Z,
plate 4."
I rose, went to the shelf, and presently returned with the volume indicated.
"This," said my uncle, "is one of the best maps of Iceland. I believe it will settle all your
doubts, difficulties and objections."
With a grim hope to the contrary, I stooped over the map.
CHAPTER 4
WE START ON THE JOURNEY
"You see, the whole island is composed of volcanoes," said the Professor, "and remark

carefully that they all bear the name of Yocul. The word is Icelandic, and means a glacier.
In most of the lofty mountains of that region the volcanic eruptions come forth from
icebound caverns. Hence the name applied to every volcano on this extraordinary island."
"But what does this word Sneffels mean?"
To this question I expected no rational answer. I was mistaken.
"Follow my finger to the western coast of Iceland, there you see Reykjavik, its capital.
Follow the direction of one of its innumerable fjords or arms of the sea, and what do you
see below the sixty-fifth degree of latitude?"
"A peninsula--very like a thighbone in shape."
"And in the centre of it--?"
"A mountain."
"Well, that's Sneffels."
I had nothing to say.
"That is Sneffels--a mountain about five thousand feet in height, one of the most
remarkable in the whole island, and certainly doomed to be the most celebrated in the
world, for through its crater we shall reach the centre of the earth."
"Impossible!" cried I, startled and shocked at the thought.
"Why impossible?" said Professor Hardwigg in his severest tones.
"Because its crater is choked with lava, by burning rocks--by infinite dangers."
"But if it be extinct?"
"That would make a difference."
"Of course it would. There are about three hundred volcanoes on the whole surface of the
globe--but the greater number are extinct. Of these Sneffels is one. No eruption has
occurred since 1219--in fact it has ceased to be a volcano at all."
After this what more could I say? Yes,--I thought of another objection.
"But what is all this about Scartaris and the kalends of July--?"
My uncle reflected deeply. Presently he gave forth the result of his reflections in a
sententious tone. "What appears obscure to you, to me is light. This very phrase shows
how particular Saknussemm is in his directions. The Sneffels mountain has many craters.
He is careful therefore to point the exact one which is the highway into the Interior of the
Earth. He lets us know, for this purpose, that about the end of the month of June, the

shadow of Mount Scartaris