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<h2> CHAPTER XX. A LIGHT ON THE HORIZON </h2>
<p>On the following day, without giving himself any further concern about the
Jew's incredulity, the captain gave orders for the <i>Hansa</i> to be
shifted round to the harbor of the Shelif. Hakkabut raised no objection,
not only because he was aware that the move insured the immediate safety
of his tartan, but because he was secretly entertaining the hope that he
might entice away two or three of the <i>Dobryna's</i> crew and make his
escape to Algiers or some other port.</p>
<p>Operations now commenced for preparing proper winter quarters. Spaniards
and Russians alike joined heartily in the work, the diminution of
atmospheric pressure and of the force of attraction contributing such an
increase to their muscular force as materially facilitated all their
labors.</p>
<p>The first business was to accommodate the building adjacent to the gourbi
to the wants of the little colony. Here for the present the Spaniards were
lodged, the Russians retaining their berths upon the yacht, while the Jew
was permitted to pass his nights upon the <i>Hansa</i>. This arrangement,
however, could be only temporary. The time could not be far distant when
ships' sides and ordinary walls would fail to give an adequate protection
from the severity of the cold that must be expected; the stock of fuel was
too limited to keep up a permanent supply of heat in their present
quarters, and consequently they must be driven to seek some other refuge,
the internal temperature of which would at least be bearable.</p>
<p>The plan that seemed to commend itself most to their consideration was,
that they should dig out for themselves some subterraneous pits similar to
"silos," such as are used as receptacles for grain. They presumed that
when the surface of Gallia should be covered by a thick layer of ice,
which is a bad conductor of heat, a sufficient amount of warmth for animal
vitality might still be retained in excavations of this kind. After a long
consultation they failed to devise any better expedient, and were forced
to resign themselves to this species of troglodyte existence.</p>
<p>In one respect they congratulated themselves that they should be better
off than many of the whalers in the polar seas, for as it is impossible to
get below the surface of a frozen ocean, these adventurers have to seek
refuge in huts of wood and snow erected on their ships, which at best can
give but slight protection from extreme cold; but here, with a solid
subsoil, the Gallians might hope to dig down a hundred feet or so and
secure for themselves a shelter that would enable them to brave the
hardest severity of climate.</p>
<p>The order, then, was at once given. The work was commenced. A stock of
shovels, mattocks, and pick-axes was brought from the gourbi, and with Ben
Zoof as overseer, both Spanish majos and Russian sailors set to work with
a will.</p>
<p>It was not long, however, before a discovery, more unexpected than
agreeable, suddenly arrested their labors. The spot chosen for the
excavation was a little to the right of the gourbi, on a slight elevation
of the soil. For the first day everything went on prosperously enough; but
at a depth of eight feet below the surface, the navvies came in contact
with a hard surface, upon which all their tools failed to make the
slightest impression. Servadac and the count were at once apprised of the
fact, and had little difficulty in recognizing the substance that had
revealed itself as the very same which composed the shores as well as the
subsoil of the Gallian sea. It evidently formed the universal substructure
of the new asteroid. Means for hollowing it failed them utterly. Harder
and more resisting than granite, it could not be blasted by ordinary
powder; dynamite alone could suffice to rend it.</p>
<p>The disappointment was very great. Unless some means of protection were
speedily devised, death seemed to be staring them in the face. Were the
figures in the mysterious documents correct? If so, Gallia must now be a
hundred millions of leagues from the sun, nearly three times the distance
of the earth at the remotest section of her orbit. The intensity of the
solar light and heat, too, was very seriously diminishing, although Gourbi
Island (being on the equator of an orb which had its axes always
perpendicular to the plane in which it revolved) enjoyed a position that
gave it a permanent summer. But no advantage of this kind could compensate
for the remoteness of the sun. The temperature fell steadily; already, to
the discomfiture of the little Italian girl, nurtured in sunshine, ice was
beginning to form in the crevices of the rocks, and manifestly the time
was impending when the sea itself would freeze.</p>
<p>Some shelter must be found before the temperature should fall to 60
degrees below zero. Otherwise death was inevitable. Hitherto, for the last
few days, the thermometer had been registering an average of about 6
degrees below zero, and it had become matter of experience that the stove,
although replenished with all the wood that was available, was altogether
inadequate to effect any sensible mitigation of the severity of the cold.
Nor could any amount of fuel be enough. It was certain that ere long the
very mercury and spirit in the thermometers would be congealed. Some other
resort must assuredly be soon found, or they must perish. That was clear.</p>
<p>The idea of betaking themselves to the <i>Dobryna</i> and <i>Hansa</i>
could not for a moment be seriously entertained; not only did the
structure of the vessels make them utterly insufficient to give
substantial shelter, but they were totally unfitted to be trusted as to
their stability when exposed to the enormous pressure of the accumulated
ice.</p>
<p>Neither Servadac, nor the count, nor Lieutenant Procope were men to be
easily disheartened, but it could not be concealed that they felt
themselves in circumstances by which they were equally harassed and
perplexed. The sole expedient that their united counsel could suggest was
to obtain a refuge below ground, and <i>that</i> was denied them by the
strange and impenetrable substratum of the soil; yet hour by hour the
sun's disc was lessening in its dimensions, and although at midday some
faint radiance and glow were to be distinguished, during the night the
painfulness of the cold was becoming almost intolerable.</p>
<p>Mounted upon Zephyr and Galette, the captain and the count scoured the
island in search of some available retreat. Scarcely a yard of ground was
left unexplored, the horses clearing every obstacle as if they were, like
Pegasus, furnished with wings. But all in vain. Soundings were made again
and again, but invariably with the same result; the rock, hard as adamant,
never failed to reveal itself within a few feet of the surface of the
ground.</p>
<p>The excavation of any silo being thus manifestly hopeless, there seemed
nothing to be done except to try and render the buildings alongside the
gourbi impervious to frost. To contribute to the supply of fuel, orders
were given to collect every scrap of wood, dry or green, that the island
produced; and this involved the necessity of felling the numerous trees
that were scattered over the plain. But toil as they might at the
accumulation of firewood, Captain Servadac and his companions could not
resist the conviction that the consumption of a very short period would
exhaust the total stock. And what would happen then?</p>
<p>Studious if possible to conceal his real misgivings, and anxious that the
rest of the party should be affected as little as might be by his own
uneasiness, Servadac would wander alone about the island, racking his
brain for an idea that would point the way out of the serious difficulty.
But still all in vain.</p>
<p>One day he suddenly came upon Ben Zoof, and asked him whether he had no
plan to propose. The orderly shook his head, but after a few moments'
pondering, said: "Ah! master, if only we were at Montmartre, we would get
shelter in the charming stone-quarries."</p>
<p>"Idiot!" replied the captain, angrily, "if we were at Montmartre, you
don't suppose that we should need to live in stone-quarries?"</p>
<p>But the means of preservation which human ingenuity had failed to secure
were at hand from the felicitous provision of Nature herself. It was on
the 10th of March that the captain and Lieutenant Procope started off once
more to investigate the northwest corner of the island; on their way their
conversation naturally was engrossed by the subject of the dire
necessities which only too manifestly were awaiting them. A discussion
more than usually animated arose between them, for the two men were not
altogether of the same mind as to the measures that ought to be adopted in
order to open the fairest chance of avoiding a fatal climax to their
exposure; the captain persisted that an entirely new abode must be sought,
while the lieutenant was equally bent upon devising a method of some sort
by which their present quarters might be rendered sufficiently warm. All
at once, in the very heat of his argument, Procope paused; he passed his
hand across his eyes, as if to dispel a mist, and stood, with a fixed gaze
centered on a point towards the south. "What is that?" he said, with a
kind of hesitation. "No, I am not mistaken," he added; "it is a light on
the horizon."</p>
<p>"A light!" exclaimed Servadac; "show me where."</p>
<p>"Look there!" answered the lieutenant, and he kept pointing steadily in
its direction, until Servadac also distinctly saw the bright speck in the
distance.</p>
<p>It increased in clearness in the gathering shades of evening. "Can it be a
ship?" asked the captain.</p>
<p>"If so, it must be in flames; otherwise we should not be able to see it so
far off," replied Procope.</p>
<p>"It does not move," said Servadac; "and unless I am greatly deceived, I
can hear a kind of reverberation in the air."</p>
<p>For some seconds the two men stood straining eyes and ears in rapt
attention. Suddenly an idea struck Servadac's mind. "The volcano!" he
cried; "may it not be the volcano that we saw, whilst we were on board the
<i>Dobryna?</i>"</p>
<p>The lieutenant agreed that it was very probable.</p>
<p>"Heaven be praised!" ejaculated the captain, and he went on in the tones
of a keen excitement: "Nature has provided us with our winter quarters;
the stream of burning lava that is flowing there is the gift of a
bounteous Providence; it will provide us all the warmth we need. No time
to lose! To-morrow, my dear Procope, to-morrow we will explore it all; no
doubt the life, the heat we want is reserved for us in the heart and
bowels of our own Gallia!"</p>
<p>Whilst the captain was indulging in his expressions of enthusiasm, Procope
was endeavoring to collect his thoughts. Distinctly he remembered the long
promontory which had barred the <i>Dobryna's</i> progress while coasting
the southern confines of the sea, and which had obliged her to ascend
northwards as far as the former latitude of Oran; he remembered also that
at the extremity of the promontory there was a rocky headland crowned with
smoke; and now he was convinced that he was right in identifying the
position, and in believing that the smoke had given place to an eruption
of flame.</p>
<p>When Servadac gave him a chance of speaking, he said, "The more I consider
it, captain, the more I am satisfied that your conjecture is correct.
Beyond a doubt, what we see is the volcano, and to-morrow we will not fail
to visit it."</p>
<p>On returning to the gourbi, they communicated their discovery to Count
Timascheff only, deeming any further publication of it to be premature.
The count at once placed his yacht at their disposal, and expressed his
intention of accompanying them.</p>
<p>"The yacht, I think," said Procope, "had better remain where she is; the
weather is beautifully calm, and the steam-launch will answer our purpose
better; at any rate, it will convey us much closer to shore than the
schooner."</p>
<p>The count replied that the lieutenant was by all means to use his own
discretion, and they all retired for the night.</p>
<p>Like many other modern pleasure-yachts, the <i>Dobryna</i>, in addition to
her four-oar, was fitted with a fast-going little steam-launch, its screw
being propelled, on the Oriolle system, by means of a boiler, small but
very effective. Early next morning, this handy little craft was
sufficiently freighted with coal (of which there was still about ten tons
on board the <i>Dobryna</i>), and manned by nobody except the captain, the
count, and the lieutenant, left the harbor of the Shelif, much to the
bewilderment of Ben Zoof, who had not yet been admitted into the secret.
The orderly, however, consoled himself with the reflection that he had
been temporarily invested with the full powers of governor general, an
office of which he was not a little proud.</p>
<p>The eighteen miles between the island and the headland were made in
something less than three hours. The volcanic eruption was manifestly very
considerable, the entire summit of the promontory being enveloped in
flames. To produce so large a combustion either the oxygen of Gallia's
atmosphere had been brought into contact with the explosive gases
contained beneath her soil, or perhaps, still more probable, the volcano,
like those in the moon, was fed by an internal supply of oxygen of her
own.</p>
<p>It took more than half an hour to settle on a suitable landing-place. At
length, a small semi-circular creek was discovered among the rocks, which
appeared advantageous, because, if circumstances should so require, it
would form a safe anchorage for both the <i>Dobryna</i> and the <i>Hansa</i>.</p>
<p>The launch securely moored, the passengers landed on the side of the
promontory opposite to that on which a torrent of burning lava was
descending to the sea. With much satisfaction they experienced, as they
approached the mountain, a sensible difference in the temperature, and
their spirits could not do otherwise than rise at the prospect of having
their hopes confirmed, that a deliverance from the threatened calamity had
so opportunely been found. On they went, up the steep acclivity,
scrambling over its rugged projections, scaling the irregularities of its
gigantic strata, bounding from point to point with the agility of chamois,
but never alighting on anything except on the accumulation of the same
hexagonal prisms with which they had now become so familiar.</p>
<p>Their exertions were happily rewarded. Behind a huge pyramidal rock they
found a hole in the mountain-side, like the mouth of a great tunnel.
Climbing up to this orifice, which was more than sixty feet above the
level of the sea, they ascertained that it opened into a long dark
gallery. They entered and groped their way cautiously along the sides. A
continuous rumbling, that increased as they advanced, made them aware that
they must be approaching the central funnel of the volcano; their only
fear was lest some insuperable wall of rock should suddenly bar their
further progress.</p>
<p>Servadac was some distance ahead.</p>
<p>"Come on!" he cried cheerily, his voice ringing through the darkness,
"come on! Our fire is lighted! no stint of fuel! Nature provides that! Let
us make haste and warm ourselves!"</p>
<p>Inspired by his confidence, the count and the lieutenant advanced bravely
along the unseen and winding path. The temperature was now at least
fifteen degrees above zero, and the walls of the gallery were beginning to
feel quite warm to the touch, an indication, not to be overlooked, that
the substance of which the rock was composed was metallic in its nature,
and capable of conducting heat.</p>
<p>"Follow me!" shouted Servadac again; "we shall soon find a regular stove!"</p>
<p>Onwards they made their way, until at last a sharp turn brought them into
a sudden flood of light. The tunnel had opened into a vast cavern, and the
gloom was exchanged for an illumination that was perfectly dazzling.
Although the temperature was high, it was not in any way intolerable.</p>
<p>One glance was sufficient to satisfy the explorers that the grateful light
and heat of this huge excavation were to be attributed to a torrent of
lava that was rolling downwards to the sea, completely subtending the
aperture of the cave. Not inaptly might the scene be compared to the
celebrated Grotto of the Winds at the rear of the central fall of Niagara,
only with the exception that here, instead of a curtain of rushing water,
it was a curtain of roaring flame that hung before the cavern's mouth.</p>
<p>"Heaven be praised!" cried Servadac, with glad emotion; "here is all that
we hoped for, and more besides!"</p>
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