Leaving the presbytery,the Professor took a road through an opening in the basaltic rock,which led far away from the sea.We were soon in open country,if we could give such a name to a place all covered with volcanic deposits.The whole land seemed crushed under the weight of enormous stones-of trap,of basalt,of granite,of lava,and of all other volcanic substances.
I could see many spouts of steam rising in the air.These white vapors,called in the Icelandic language "reykir,"come from hot water fountains,and indicate by their violence the volcanic activity of the soil.Now the sight of these appeared to justify my apprehension.Iwas,therefore,all the more surprised and mortified when my uncle thus addressed me.
"You see all this smoke,Harry,my boy?"
"Yes,sir."
"Well,as long as you see them thus,you have nothing to fear from the volcano.""How can that be?"
"Be careful to remember this,"continued the Professor."At the approach of an eruption these spouts of vapor redouble their activity-to disappear altogether during the period of volcanic eruption;for the elastic fluids,no longer having the necessary tension,seek refuge in the interior of the crater,instead of escaping through the fissures of the earth.If,then,the steam remains in its normal or habitual state,if their energy does not increase,and if you add to this,the remark that the wind is not replaced by heavy atmospheric pressure and dead calm,you may be quite sure that there is no fear of any immediate eruption.""But-"
"Enough,my boy.When science has sent forth her fiat-it is only to hear and obey."I came back to the house quite downcast and disappointed.My uncle had completely defeated me with his scientific arguments.
Nevertheless,I had still one hope,and that was,when once we were at the bottom of the crater,that it would be impossible in default of a gallery or tunnel,to descend any deeper;and this,despite all the learned Saknussemms in the world.
I passed the whole of the following night with a nightmare on my chest!and,after unheard-of miseries and tortures,found myself in the very depths of the earth,from which I was suddenly launched into planetary space,under the form of an eruptive rock!
Next day,June 23d,Hans calmly awaited us outside the presbytery with his three companions loaded with provisions,tools,and instruments.Two iron-shod poles,two guns,and two large game bags,were reserved for my uncle and myself.Hans,who was a man who never forgot even the minutest precautions,had added to our baggage a large skin full of water,as an addition to our gourds.This assured us water for eight days.
It was nine o'clock in the morning when we were quite ready.The rector and his huge wife or servant,I never knew which,stood at the door to see us off.They appeared to be about to inflict on us the usual final kiss of the Icelanders.To our supreme astonishment their adieu took the shape of a formidable bill,in which they even counted the use of the pastoral house,really and truly the most abominable and dirty place I ever was in.The worthy couple cheated and robbed us like a Swiss innkeeper,and made us feel,by the sum we had to pay,the splendors of their hospitality.
My uncle,however,paid without bargaining.A man who had made up his mind to undertake a voyage into the Interior of the Earth,is not the man to haggle over a few miserable rix-dollars.
This important matter settled,Hans gave the signal for departure,and some few moments later we had left Stapi.
