CHAPTER XXX

Terrific Saurian Combat SATURDAY, August 15. The sea still retains its uniform monotony. The same leaden hue, the same eternal glare from above. No indi- cation of land being in sight. The horizon appears to retreat before us, more and more as we advance. My head is still duil and heavy from the effects of my extraordinary dream, which I cannot as yet banish from ray mind. The Professor, who has not dreamed, is, however, in one of his morose and un- accountable humors. Spends his time in scanning the horizon, at every point of the compass. His telescope is raised every moment to his eyes, and when he finds nothing to give any clew to our where- abouts, he assumes a Napoleonic attitude and walks anxiously,

remarlced that my uncle, the Professor, had a 

strong tendency to resume his old impatient char- acter, and I could not but make a note of this dis- agreeable circumstance. I sav/ clearly that it had required ail the influence of ray danger and suffer- ing, to -extract from him one scintillation of hu- mane feeling. Now that I was quite recovered, his original nature had conquered and obtained the uppei' hand. "You seem uneasy, uncle," said I, when for about the hundredth time he put down his telescope and walked up and down, muttering to himself. "Np, I am not uneasy," he rephed in a dry harsh tone, "by no means." "Perhaps I should have said impatient," I replied, softening the force of my remark, 1, "Enough to make me so, I think." i "And yet we are advancing at a rate seldom at- tained by a raft," I remarked. "What matters, that?" cried my uncle. "I am not vexed at the rate we go at, but I am annoyed to find the sea so much vaster than I expected." I then recollected that the Professor, before our departure, had estimated the length of. this Sub- terranean Ocean, as at most about lifty leagues. Now we had traveled at least over thrice that dis- tance without discovering any trace of the distant shore. I began to understand my uncle's anger. "We ai'e not going down," suddenly exclaimed tiie Professor. "We are not progi-essing with our great discoveries. All this is utter loss of time. After all, I did not come from home to undertake a party of pleasure. This voyage on a raft over a pond annoys and wearies me." He called this adventurous journey a party of pleasui-e, and this great Inland Sea a pond I "But," argiied I, "if we have followed the route indicated by the great Saknusaem, we cannot be going far wrong," " 'That is the question,' as the great, the immor- tal Shakespeare has it. Are we following the route indicated by that wondroua sage? Did Saknussem ever fall in with this great sheet of water? If he did, did he ci:oss it? I began to fear that the rivulet we adopted for a guide has led us wrong." "In any case, we can never regret having gome thus far. It is worth the whole journey to have enjoyed this magnificent spectacle — it is something to have seen." "I care nothing about seeing, nor about magni- ficent spectacles. I came down into the interior of the earth with an object, and that object I mean to attain. Don't talk to me about admiring scenery, or any other sentimental trash." After this I thought it well to hold my tongue, and allow the Professor to bite his lips until the blood came, without further remark. At six o'clock in the evening, our matter-of-fact guide, Hans, asked for his week's salary, and re- ceiving his three rix-dollars, put them carefully in his pocket. He was perfectly contented and satis- fied, SUNDAY, 16th August, Nothing new to record. The same weather as before. The wind has a slight . tendency to freshen up, with signs of an approach- ing gale. When I awoke, my first observation was in regard to the intensity of the light. I keep on fearing, day after day, that the extraordinary eleC^ ti-ic phenomenon should become first obscured, and then go wholly out, leaving us in total darkness. Nothing of this kind occurs however. The shadow of the raft, its mast and sails, is clearly distinguish- ' ed on the surface of the water. This wondrous sea is, after all, immense in ex- tent. It must be quite as wide as the Mediterra- nean — or perhaps even as the gi-eat Atlantic Ocean, Why, after all, should it not be so? My uncle has on more than one occasion, tried deep sea soundings. He tied one of our heaviest crowbars to the end of a cord, which he allowed to run out to the extent of two hundred fathoms. We had the greatest difficulty in hoisting in our novel kind of lead. When the crowbar was finally dragged on board, Hans called my attention to some singular marks upon ■•its surface. The piece of iron looked as if it had been crushed between two very hard substances. I looked at our worthy guide with an inquiring glance, "Taender," said he. Of course I was at a loss to understand, I turned round towards my uncle, absorbed in gloomy re- flections. I had little wish to disturb him from his reverie, 1 accordingly turned once more toward our worthy Icelander, Hans very quietly and signifi- cantly opened his mouth once or twice, as if in the act of biting, and in this way made me understand his meaning, "Teeth!" cried I, with stupefaction, as I examined the bar of iron with more attention. Yes. There can be no doubt about the matter. The indentations on the bar of iron are the marks of teeth ! What jaws must the owner of such molars be possessed of! Have we, then, come upon a mons- ter of unknown species, which still exists within the vast waste of waters — a monster more voracious than a shark, more terrible and bulky than the whale. I am unable to withdraw my eyes from the bar of iron, actually half -crushed ! Is, then, my dream about to come true — a dread and terrible reality? All day my thoughts were bent upon these speculations, and my imagination scarcely regained a degree of calmness and power of reflection until after a sleep of many hours. This Sunday, as other Sundays, we observed as a day of rest and pious meditation. MONDAY, August 17th. I have been trying to realize from memory the particular instincts of tfiose antediluvian animals of the secondary period, which succeeding to the mollusoa, to the crustacea.