A JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH
By Jules Verne
CHAPTER 8
THE EIDER-DOWN HUNTER--OFF AT LAST
That evening I took a brief walk on the shore near Reykjavik, after
which I returned to an early sleep on my bed of coarse planks, where I
slept the sleep of the just. When I awoke I heard my uncle speaking
loudly in the next room. I rose hastily and joined him. He was talking
in Danish with a man of tall stature, and of perfectly Herculean build.
This man appeared to be possessed of very great strength. His eyes,
which started rather prominently from a very large head, the face
belonging to which was simple and naive, appeared very quick and
intelligent. Very long hair, which even in England would have been
accounted exceedingly red, fell over his athletic shoulders. This native
of Iceland was active and supple in appearance, though he scarcely moved
his arms, being in fact one of those men who despise the habit of
gesticulation common to southern people.
Everything in this man's manner revealed a calm and phlegmatic
temperament. There was nothing indolent about him, but his appearance
spoke of tranquillity. He was one of those who never seemed to expect
anything from anybody, who liked to work when he thought proper, and
whose philosophy nothing could astonish or trouble.
I began to comprehend his character, simply from the way in which he
listened to the wild and impassioned verbiage of my worthy uncle. While
the excellent Professor spoke sentence after sentence, he stood with
folded arms, utterly still, motionless to all my uncle's gesticulations.
When he wanted to say No he moved his head from left to right; when he
acquiesced he nodded, so slightly that you could scarcely see the
undulation of his head. This economy of motion was carried to the length
of avarice.
Judging from his appearance I should have been a long time before I had
suspected him to be what he was, a mighty hunter. Certainly his manner
was not likely to frighten the game. How, then, did he contrive to get
at his prey?
My surprise was slightly modified when I knew that this tranquil and
solemn personage was only a hunter of the eider duck, the down of which
is, after all, the greatest source of the Icelanders' wealth.
In the early days of summer, the female of the eider, a pretty sort of
duck, builds its nest amid the rocks of the fjords--the name given to
all narrow gulfs in Scandinavian countries--with which every part of the
island is indented. No sooner has the eider duck made her nest than she
lines the inside of it with the softest down from her breast. Then comes
the hunter or trader, taking away the nest, the poor bereaved female
begins her task over again, and this continues as long as any eider down
is to be found.
When she can find no more the male bird sets to work to see what he can
do. As, however, his down is not so soft, and has therefore no
commercial value, the hunter does not take the trouble to rob him of his
nest lining. The nest is accordingly finished, the eggs are laid, the
little ones are born, and next year the harvest of eider down is again
collected.
Now, as the eider duck never selects steep rocks or aspects to build its
nest, but rather sloping and low cliffs near to the sea, the Icelandic
hunter can carry on his trade operations without much difficulty. He is
like a farmer who has neither to plow, to sow, nor to harrow, only to
collect his harvest.
This grave, sententious, silent person, as phlegmatic as an Englishman
on the French stage, was named Hans Bjelke. He had called upon us in
consequence of the recommendation of M. Fridriksson. He was, in fact,
our future guide. It struck me that had I sought the world over, I could
not have found a greater contradiction to my impulsive uncle.
They, however, readily understood one another. Neither of them had any
thought about money; one was ready to take all that was offered him, the
other ready to offer anything that was asked. It may readily be
conceived, then, that an understanding was soon come to between them.
Now, the understanding was, that he was to take us to the village of
Stapi, situated on the southern slope of the peninsula of Sneffels, at
the very foot of the volcano. Hans, the guide, told us the distance was
about twenty-two miles, a journey which my uncle supposed would take
about two days.
But when my uncle came to understand that they were Danish miles, of
eight thousand yards each, he was obliged to be more moderate in his
ideas, and, considering the horrible roads we had to follow, to allow
eight or ten days for the journey.
Four horses were prepared for us, two to carry the baggage, and two to
bear the important weight of myself and uncle. Hans declared that
nothing ever would make him climb on the back of any animal. He knew
every inch of that part of the coast, and promised to take us the very
shortest way.
His engagement with my uncle was by no means to cease with our arrival
at Stapi; he was further to remain in his service during the whole time
required for the completion of his scientific investigations, at the
fixed salary of three rix-dollars a week, being exactly fourteen
shillings and twopence, minus one farthing, English currency. One
stipulation, however, was made by the guide--the money was to be paid to
him every Saturday night, failing which, his engagement was at an end.
The day of our departure was fixed. My uncle wished to hand the
eider-down hunter an advance, but he refused in one emphatic word--
"Efter."
Which being translated from Icelandic into plain English means--"After."
The treaty concluded, our worthy guide retired without another word.
"A splendid fellow," said my uncle; "only he little suspects the
marvelous part he is about to play in the history of the world."
"You mean, then," I cried in amazement, "that he should accompany us?"
"To the interior of the earth, yes," replied my uncle. "Why not?"
There were yet forty-eight hours to elapse before we made our final
start. To my great regret, our whole time was taken up in making
preparations for our journey. All our industry and ability were devoted
to packing every object in the most advantageous manner--the instruments
on one side, the arms on the other, the tools here and the provisions
there. There were, in fact, four distinct groups.
The instruments were of course of the best manufacture:
1. A centigrade thermometer of Eigel, counting up to 150 degrees, which
to me did not appear half enough--or too much. Too hot by half, if the
degree of heat was to ascend so high--in which case we should certainly
be cooked--not enough, if we wanted to ascertain the exact temperature
of springs or metal in a state of fusion.
2. A manometer worked by compressed air, an instrument used to ascertain
the upper atmospheric pressure on the level of the ocean. Perhaps a
common barometer would not have done as well, the atmospheric pressure
being likely to increase in proportion as we descended below the surface
of the earth.
3. A first-class chronometer made by Boissonnas, of Geneva, set at the
meridian of Hamburg, from which Germans calculate, as the English do
from Greenwich, and the French from Paris.
4. Two compasses, one for horizontal guidance, the other to ascertain
the dip.
5. A night glass.
6. Two Ruhmkorff coils, which, by means of a current of electricity,
would ensure us a very excellent, easily carried, and certain means of
obtaining light.
7. A voltaic battery on the newest principle.[1]
[1] Thermometer (thermos, and metron, measure); an instrument for
measuring the temperature of the air.--Manometer (manos,and metron,
measure); an instrument to show the density or rarity of
gases.--Chronometer (chronos. time, and metros, measure) a time
measurer, or superior watch--Ruhmkorff's coil, an instrument for
producing currents of induced electricity of great intensity. It
consists of a coil of copper wire, insulated by being covered with silk,
surrounded by another coil of fine wire, also insulated, in which a
momentary current is induced when a current is passed through the inner
coil from a voltaic battery. When the apparatus is in action, the gas
becomes luminous, and produces a white and continued light. The battery
and wire are carried in a leather bag, which the traveler fastens by a
strap to his shoulders. The lantern is in front, and enables the
benighted wanderer to see in the most profound obscurity. He may venture
without fear of explosion into the midst of the most inflammable gases,
and the lantern will burn beneath the deepest waters. H. D. Ruhmkorff,
an able and learned chemist, discovered the induction coil. In 1864 he
won the quinquennial French prize of £2,000 for this ingenious
application of electricity--A voltaic battery, so called from Volta, its
designer, is an apparatus consisting of a series of metal plates
arranged in pairs and subjected to the action of saline solutions for
producing currents of electricity.
Our arms consisted of two rifles, with two revolving six-shooters. Why
these arms were provided it was impossible for me to say. I had every
reason to believe that we had neither wild beasts nor savage natives to
fear. My uncle, on the other hand, was quite as devoted to his arsenal
as to his collection of instruments, and above all was very careful with
his provision of fulminating or gun cotton, warranted to keep in any
climate, and of which the expansive force was known to be greater than
that of ordinary gunpowder.
Our tools consisted of two pickaxes, two crowbars, a silken ladder,
three iron-shod Alpine poles, a hatchet, a hammer, a dozen wedges, some
pointed pieces of iron, and a quantity of strong rope. You may conceive
that the whole made a tolerable parcel, especially when I mention that
the ladder itself was three hundred feet long!
Then there came the important question of provisions. The hamper was not
very large but tolerably satisfactory, for I knew that in concentrated
essence of meat and biscuit there was enough to last six months. The
only liquid provided by my uncle was Schiedam. Of water, not a drop. We
had, however, an ample supply of gourds, and my uncle counted on finding
water, and enough to fill them, as soon as we commenced our downward
journey. My remarks as to the temperature, the quality, and even as to
the possibility of none being found, remained wholly without effect.
To make up the exact list of our traveling gear--for the guidance of
future travelers--add, that we carried a medicine and surgical chest
with all apparatus necessary for wounds, fractures and blows; lint,
scissors, lancets--in fact, a perfect collection of horrible looking
instruments; a number of vials containing ammonia, alcohol, ether,
Goulard water, aromatic vinegar, in fact, every possible and impossible
drug--finally, all the materials for working the Ruhmkorff coil!
My uncle had also been careful to lay in a goodly supply of tobacco,
several flasks of very fine gunpowder, boxes of tinder, besides a large
belt crammed full of notes and gold. Good boots rendered watertight were
to be found to the number of six in the tool box.
"My boy, with such clothing, with such boots, and such general
equipment," said my uncle, in a state of rapturous delight, "we may hope
to travel far."
It took a whole day to put all these matters in order. In the evening we
dined with Baron Trampe, in company with the Mayor of Reykjavik, and
Doctor Hyaltalin, the great medical man of Iceland. M. Fridriksson was
not present, and I was afterwards sorry to hear that he and the governor
did not agree on some matters connected with the administration of the
island. Unfortunately, the consequence was, that I did not understand a
word that was said at dinner--a kind of semiofficial reception. One
thing I can say, my uncle never left off speaking.
The next day our labor came to an end. Our worthy host delighted my
uncle, Professor Hardwigg, by giving him a good map of Iceland, a most
important and precious document for a mineralogist.
Our last evening was spent in a long conversation with M. Fridriksson,
whom I liked very much--the more that I never expected to see him or
anyone else again. After this agreeable way of spending an hour or so, I
tried to sleep. In vain; with the exception of a few dozes, my night was
miserable.
At five o'clock in the morning I was awakened from the only real half
hour's sleep of the night by the loud neighing of horses under my
window. I hastily dressed myself and went down into the street. Hans was
engaged in putting the finishing stroke to our baggage, which he did in
a silent, quiet way that won my admiration, and yet he did it admirably
well. My uncle wasted a great deal of breath in giving him directions,
but worthy Hans took not the slightest notice of his words.
At six o'clock all our preparations were completed, and M. Fridriksson
shook hands heartily with us. My uncle thanked him warmly, in the
Icelandic language, for his kind hospitality, speaking truly from the
heart.
As for myself I put together a few of my best Latin phrases and paid him
the highest compliments I could. This fraternal and friendly duty
performed, we sallied forth and mounted our horses.
As soon as we were quite ready, M. Fridriksson advanced, and by way of
farewell, called after me in the words of Virgil--words which appeared
to have been made for us, travelers starting for an uncertain
destination:
"Et quacunque viam dederit fortuna sequamur."
("And whichsoever way thou goest, may fortune follow!")
