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Journey to the Center of the Earth
Chapter 26. A RAPID RECOVERY
When I returned to the consciousness of existence, I found myself surrounded by a kind of semiobscurity, lying on some thick and soft coverlets.
My uncle was watching, his eyes fixed intently on my countenance, a grave expression on his face, a tear in his eye.
At the first sigh which struggled from my bosom, he took hold of my hand.
When he saw my eyes open and fix themselves upon his, he uttered a loud cry of joy.
"He lives! he lives!"
"Yes, my good uncle," I whispered.
"My dear boy," continued the grim Professor, clasping me to his heart, "you're saved!"
I was deeply and unaffectedly touched by the tone in which these words were uttered, and even more by the kindly care which accompanied them.
The Professor, however, was one of those men who must be severely tried in order to induce any display of affection or gentle emotion.
At this moment our friend Hans, the guide, joined us.
He saw my hand in that of my uncle.
And I venture to say that, taciturn as he was, his eyes beamed with lively satisfaction.
"God dag," he said.
"Good day, Hans, good day,"
I replied as heartily as I could, "And now, Uncle, that we're together, tell me where we are."
"I have lost all idea of our position, as of everything else".
"Tomorrow, Harry, tomorrow," he replied.
"Today you're far too weak."
"Your head is surrounded with bandages and poultices that mustn't be touched."
"Sleep, my boy, sleep, and tomorrow you'll know all that you require."
"But," I cried, "let me know what o'clock it's, what day it's?"
"It's now eleven o'clock at night, and this is once more Sunday."
"It's now the ninth of the month of August."
"And I distinctly prohibit you from asking any more questions until the tenth of the same."
I was, if the truth were told, very weak indeed, and my eyes soon closed involuntarily.
I did require a good night's rest.
And I went off reflecting at the last moment that my perilous adventure in the interior of the earth, in total darkness, had lasted four days!
On the morning of the next day, at my awakening, I began to look around me.
My sleeping place was made of all our traveling bedding and lay in a charming grotto with magnificent stalagmites.
They glittered in all the colors of the rainbow, and the floor was soft silvery sand.
A dim obscurity prevailed throughout the grotto, soft shadows hiding stalagmites and sand.
No torch or lamp was lighted, yet unexplained beams of light penetrated from without and passed through the grotto's opening.
I, moreover, heard a vague, indefinite murmur like the ebb and flow of waves upon a strand.
Sometimes I verily believed I could hear the sighing of the wind.
I began to believe that, instead of being awake, I must be dreaming.
Surely my brain hadn't been affected by my fall, and all that occurred during the last twenty-four hours wasn't the frenzied visions of madness?
And yet after some reflection, a trial of my faculties, I came to the conclusion that I couldn't be mistaken.
Eyes and ears couldn't surely both deceive me.
"It's a ray of the blessed daylight,"
I said to myself, "It's a ray of the blessed daylight which has penetrated through some mighty fissure in the rocks."
"But what's the meaning of this murmur of waves, this unmistakable moaning of the salt-sea billows?"
"I can hear plainly enough the whistling of the wind."
"Can I be mistaken? If my uncle, during my illness, has carried me back to the surface, has he abandoned his wondrous expedition"?
I was puzzling my brain over these and other questions, when the Professor joined me.
"Good day, Harry," he cried in a joyous tone.
"I fancy you're quite well."
"I'm very much better," I replied, actually sitting up in my bed.
"I knew that would be the end of it, as you slept both soundly and tranquilly."
"Hans and I have each taken turn to watch, and every hour we have seen visible signs of amelioration."
"You must be right, Uncle," was my reply, "for I feel as if I could do justice to any meal you could put before me."
"You shall eat, my boy, you shall eat."
"The fever has left you."
"Our excellent friend Hans has rubbed your wounds and bruises with I know not what ointment, of which the Icelanders alone possess the secret."
"And they have healed your bruises in the most marvelous manner."
"Ah, he's a wise fellow is Master Hans."
While he was speaking, my uncle was placing before me several articles of food, which, despite his earnest injunctions, I readily devoured.
As soon as the first rage of hunger was appeased, I overwhelmed him with questions, to which he now no longer hesitated to give answers.
I then learned, for the first time, that my providential fall had brought me to the bottom of an almost perpendicular gallery.
As I came down, I was amid a shower of stones, any one of which would have crushed me to death.
They concluded that I had carried with me an entire dislocated rock.
Riding as it were on this terrible chariot, I was cast headlong into my uncle's arms.
And into them I fell, insensible and covered with blood.
"It's indeed a miracle,"
The Professor's final remark was, 'You weren't killed a thousand times over. Let us never separate, or we may never meet again.
"Let us take care never again to separate."
These words fell with a sort of chill upon my heart.
The journey, then, wasn't over, I looked at my uncle with surprise and astonishment.
My uncle, after an instant's examination of my countenance, said, "What's the matter, Harry?"
"I want to ask you a very serious question. You say that I'm all right in health?"
"Certainly you're."
"And all my limbs are sound and capable of new exertion?" I asked.
"Most undoubtedly."
"But what about my head?" was my next anxious question.
"Well, your head, except that you have one or two contusions, is exactly where it ought to be, on your shoulders," said my uncle, laughing.
"Well, my own opinion is that my head isn't exactly right. In fact, I believe myself slightly delirious."
"What makes you think so?"
"I'll explain why I fancy I have lost my senses," I cried.
"Have we not returned to the surface of Mother Earth?"
"Certainly not."
"Then truly I must be mad, for do I not see the light of day?"
"Do I not hear the whistling of the wind, and can I not distinguish the wash of a great sea"?
"And that's all that makes you uneasy?" said my uncle, with a smile.
"Can you explain?"
"I won't make any attempt to explain, for the whole matter is utterly inexplicable."
"But you shall see and judge for yourself."
"You'll then find that geological science is as yet in its infancy, and that we're doomed to enlighten the world."
"Let us advance, then," I cried eagerly, no longer able to restrain my curiosity.
"Wait a moment, my dear Harry," he responded, "you must take precautions after your illness before going into the open air."
"The open air?"
"Yes, my boy. I have to warn you that the wind is rather violent, and I have no wish for you to expose yourself without necessary precautions."
"But I beg to assure you that I'm perfectly recovered from my illness."
"Have just a little patience, my boy."
"A relapse would be inconvenient to all parties."
"We have no time to lose, as our approaching sea voyage may be of long duration."
"Sea voyage?" I cried, more bewildered than ever.
"Yes. You must take another day's rest, and we shall be ready to go on board by tomorrow," replied my uncle, with a peculiar smile.
"Go on board!" The words utterly astonished me.
Go on board, what and how? Had we come upon a river, a lake, had we discovered some inland sea?
Was a vessel lying at anchor in some part of the interior of the earth?
My curiosity was worked up to the very highest pitch.
My uncle made vain attempts to restrain me.
At last, however, he discovered that my feverish impatience would do more harm than good.
He also saw that only the satisfaction of my wishes could restore me to a calm state of mind, he gave way.
I dressed quickly, wrapped myself in a coverlet to please my uncle, and rushed out of the grotto.