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A JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH - 5

A JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH

By Jules Verne

CHAPTER 5

First Lessons in Climbing

At Altona, a suburb of Hamburg, is the Chief Station of the Kiel

railway, which was to take us to the shores of the Belt. In twenty

minutes from the moment of our departure we were in Holstein, and our

carriage entered the station. Our heavy luggage was taken out, weighed,

labeled, and placed in a huge van. We then took our tickets, and exactly

at seven o'clock were seated opposite each other in a firstclass railway

carriage.

My uncle said nothing. He was too busy examining his papers, among which

of course was the famous parchment, and some letters of introduction

from the Danish consul which were to pave the way to an introduction to

the Governor of Iceland. My only amusement was looking out of the

window. But as we passed through a flat though fertile country, this

occupation was slightly monotonous. In three hours we reached Kiel, and

our baggage was at once transferred to the steamer.

We had now a day before us, a delay of about ten hours. Which fact put

my uncle in a towering passion. We had nothing to do but to walk about

the pretty town and bay. At length, however, we went on board, and at

half past ten were steaming down the Great Belt. It was a dark night,

with a strong breeze and a rough sea, nothing being visible but the

occasional fires on shore, with here and there a lighthouse. At seven in

the morning we left Korsor, a little town on the western side of

Seeland.

Here we took another railway, which in three hours brought us to the

capital, Copenhagen, where, scarcely taking time for refreshment, my

uncle hurried out to present one of his letters of introduction. It was

to the director of the Museum of Antiquities, who, having been informed

that we were tourists bound for Iceland, did all he could to assist us.

One wretched hope sustained me now. Perhaps no vessel was bound for such

distant parts.

Alas! a little Danish schooner, the Valkyrie, was to sail on the

second of June for Reykjavik. The captain, M. Bjarne, was on board, and

was rather surprised at the energy and cordiality with which his future

passenger shook him by the hand. To him a voyage to Iceland was merely a

matter of course. My uncle, on the other hand, considered the event of

sublime importance. The honest sailor took advantage of the Professor's

enthusiasm to double the fare.

"On Tuesday morning at seven o'clock be on board," said M. Bjarne,

handing us our receipts.

"Excellent! Capital! Glorious!" remarked my uncle as we sat down to a

late breakfast; "refresh yourself, my boy, and we will take a run

through the town."

Our meal concluded, we went to the Kongens-Nye-Torw; to the king's

magnificent palace; to the beautiful bridge over the canal near the

Museum; to the immense cenotaph of Thorwaldsen with its hideous naval

groups; to the castle of Rosenberg; and to all the other lions of the

place-none of which my uncle even saw, so absorbed was he in his

anticipated triumphs.

But one thing struck his fancy, and that was a certain singular steeple

situated on the Island of Amak, which is the southeast quarter of the

city of Copenhagen. My uncle at once ordered me to turn my steps that

way, and accordingly we went on board the steam ferry boat which does

duty on the canal, and very soon reached the noted dockyard quay.

In the first instance we crossed some narrow streets, where we met

numerous groups of galley slaves, with particolored trousers, grey and

yellow, working under the orders and the sticks of severe taskmasters,

and finally reached the Vor-Frelser's-Kirk.

This church exhibited nothing remarkable in itself; in fact, the worthy

Professor had only been attracted to it by one circumstance, which was,

that its rather elevated steeple started from a circular platform, after

which there was an exterior staircase, which wound round to the very

summit.

"Let us ascend," said my uncle.

"But I never could climb church towers," I cried, "I am subject to

dizziness in my head."

"The very reason why you should go up. I want to cure you of a bad

habit."

"But, my good sir--"

"I tell you to come. What is the use of wasting so much valuable time?"

It was impossible to dispute the dictatorial commands of my uncle. I

yielded with a groan. On payment of a fee, a verger gave us the key. He,

for one, was not partial to the ascent. My uncle at once showed me the

way, running up the steps like a schoolboy. I followed as well as I

could, though no sooner was I outside the tower, than my head began to

swim. There was nothing of the eagle about me. The earth was enough for

me, and no ambitious desire to soar ever entered my mind. Still things

did not go badly until I had ascended 150 steps, and was near the

platform, when I began to feel the rush of cold air. I could scarcely

stand, when clutching the railings, I looked upwards. The railing was

frail enough, but nothing to those which skirted the terrible winding

staircase, that appeared, from where I stood, to ascend to the skies.

"Now then, Henry."

"I can't do it!" I cried, in accents of despair.

"Are you, after all, a coward, sir?" said my uncle in a pitiless tone.

"Go up, I say!"

To this there was no reply possible. And yet the keen air acted

violently on my nervous system; sky, earth, all seemed to swim round,

while the steeple rocked like a ship. My legs gave way like those of a

drunken man. I crawled upon my hands and knees; I hauled myself up

slowly, crawling like a snake. Presently I closed my eyes, and allowed

myself to be dragged upwards.

"Look around you," said my uncle in a stern voice, "heaven knows what

profound abysses you may have to look down. This is excellent practice."

Slowly, and shivering all the while with cold, I opened my eyes. What

then did I see? My first glance was upwards at the cold fleecy clouds,

which as by some optical delusion appeared to stand still, while the

steeple, the weathercock, and our two selves were carried swiftly along.

Far away on one side could be seen the grassy plain, while on the other

lay the sea bathed in translucent light. The Sund, or Sound as we call

it, could be discovered beyond the point of Elsinore, crowded with white

sails, which, at that distance looked like the wings of seagulls; while

to the east could be made out the far-off coast of Sweden. The whole

appeared a magic panorama.

But faint and bewildered as I was, there was no remedy for it. Rise and

stand up I must. Despite my protestations my first lesson lasted quite

an hour. When, nearly two hours later, I reached the bosom of mother

earth, I was like a rheumatic old man bent double with pain.

"Enough for one day," said my uncle, rubbing his hands, "we will begin

again tomorrow."

There was no remedy. My lessons lasted five days, and at the end of that

period, I ascended blithely enough, and found myself able to look down

into the depths below without even winking, and with some degree of

pleasure.