Chapter 15We Continue Our Descent

At eight o'clock the next morning, a soft kind of dawn woke us up. A thousand little prisms from the lava caught the light as it passed, bringing it to us like a shower of sparks.

We could see things around us, no problem.

"Well, Harry, my boy," the Professor shouted, super excited, rubbing his hands together, "what do you think now? Did you ever have a more chill night in our place on Konigstrasse? No loud cart wheels, no hawkers yelling, no rough language from boatmen or anything!"

"Well, Uncle, we're basically at the bottom of this well - but this calm kinda freaks me out."

"Seriously?" said the Professor, getting a little heated.

"Sounds like you’re already starting to get scared. How are you gonna handle this later? You know, we haven’t even gone an inch into the earth yet."

"What do you mean, sir?" I replied, totally confused.

"I mean we've only just reached the soil of the island itself. This long, straight tube that ends at the bottom of Sneffels crater stops right here, about level with the ocean." "Are you sure, sir?"

"Totally. Check the barometer."

It was true - the mercury, after slowly climbing in the instrument as we descended, had stopped exactly at twenty-nine degrees.

"You see," said the Professor, "so far, we’re only dealing with air pressure. I’m dying to switch the barometer for a manometer."

The barometer was about to be useless - as soon as the weight of the air was heavier than what was calculated above the ocean level.

"But," I said, "aren't you worried that this pressure just keeps getting worse and might be really painful and annoying?"

"No," he said. "We're going down super slow, so our lungs get used to the compressed air. People have gone so high they barely had any air - so why can't we get used to breathing when we have, like, a little too much? I'm definitely gonna like it. Let's not waste any time."

"Where's the packet that came down before us?"

I pointed it out to my uncle, smiling. Hans hadn't seen it and thought it was snagged somewhere above us - he called it "Huppe."

"Now," my uncle said, "let's grab some breakfast, and fuel up like we've got a long day ahead."

Biscuits, dried meat, and a few gulps of water with Schiedam - that was our fancy meal.

As soon as we were done, my uncle pulled out a notebook to jot down notes from our trip. He's already gotten his gear sorted, and this is what he wrote: Monday, June twenty-ninth

Chronometer, eight:seventeen a.m. Barometer, twenty-nine point six inches Thermometer, six degrees [forty-three degrees Fahr.] Direction, E.S.E.

That last one was about the tunnel, and the compass showed us.

"Now, Harry," the Professor shouted, super excited, "we're really about to take our first step into the Earth's Interior! Nobody’s ever been there since the world began. You can say our journey actually starts right now."

As my uncle said that, he grabbed the Ruhmkorff coil around his neck and hooked up the lantern’s wire. A bright light suddenly lit up that dark tunnel! It was like magic!

Hans, who carried the second apparatus, got it running too. This super-smart way of using electricity let us move forward with our own artificial daylight, even through a bunch of flammable gases.

"Let's go!" my uncle shouted. Everyone grabbed their gear. Hans led the way, then my uncle, and I brought up the rear as we entered the gloomy gallery!

Just as we were about to step into this depressing passage, I looked up and saw that Icelandic sky through the tube-like shaft - the last sky I’d ever see!

Was it the last sky I’d ever see?

A river of lava from deep inside the earth had forced its way through the tunnel back in twelve nineteen. It coated the whole inside with a thick, bright layer. The electric lights made the whole thing even brighter.

Our journey got seriously tricky now. How were we gonna stop ourselves from sliding down the steep slope? Luckily, cracks, worn spots, and other bumps acted like steps. We went down slowly, letting our heavy bags slide ahead on a long rope.

But what was steps under our feet became stalactites in other spots. The lava, super porous in some places, formed tiny, round bubbles. Quartz crystals, decorated with clear drops of natural glass hanging from the ceiling like chandeliers, seemed to glow as we walked underneath them.

You’d have thought the magical creatures from stories were lighting up their underground palaces to greet us.

"Amazing, totally epic!" I yelled, caught up in the moment.

"Look at this, Uncle! Don't you dig these lava shades, running through a whole bunch of colors, from reddish brown to pale yellow - so gradually? And these crystals, they look like glowing orbs."

"You're starting to get into travel, Master Harry," my uncle shouted.

"Just wait, we'll go further! What we’re seeing so far is nothing - onwards, my boy, onwards!"

It would’ve made way more sense if he'd said, "Let’s slide," because we were gliding down a slope, no sweat. The compass showed we were heading southeast. The lava flow never turned left or right - straight as an arrow.

But get this: we didn't feel any hotter. That proved Humphry Davy was right, and I kept checking the thermometer, totally stunned.

Two hours later, it only read fifty-four degrees Fahrenheit. I was pretty sure we were going more sideways than down. Figuring out exactly how deep we were? Easy peasy. The Professor measured the angles as we went, but he wasn’t sharing the numbers.

Around eight o’clock, my uncle called it a night. Hans plopped down on the ground. We hung the lamps on cracks in the lava. We were in this huge cavern with plenty of air. Seriously, how was that even possible? What kind of wind was doing that? But honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to think about it.

I was too tired and hungry. Seven hours of marching straight? That was brutal. I was completely wiped - so stoked to hear him say, "Halt."

Hans set out some snacks on a chunk of lava, and we all dug in. But there was one thing stressing us out - our water was already halfway gone. My uncle was sure we’d find water underground, but so far, nothing. I couldn't help but point it out.

"You're surprised we haven't found any springs?" he asked.

"Totally - I'm seriously worried. We definitely don't have enough water to last five days."

"Relax about that," my uncle said.

"I guarantee we'll find plenty of water - way more than we need." "But when?"

"Once we get past this lava crust. How can you expect springs to burst through these solid walls?"

"But how do we know this lava doesn't go all the way to the center of the Earth? We haven’t explored downwards much yet."

"What got you thinking that?" my uncle asked, sounding chill.

"Well, if we’d gone way below sea level - shouldn’t it be hotter?"

"According to your theory," said my uncle; "but what does the thermometer say?"

"Just fifteen degrees Reaumur - only nine degrees warmer than when we started."

"So, what’s your takeaway?" the Professor asked.

"So, the takeaway here is pretty straightforward. Basically, the inside of the earth gets a degree warmer every hundred feet, give or take. But local stuff can totally mess with that number. Like, in Yakoust, Siberia, it heats up a degree every thirty-six feet."

"It all comes down to how well certain rocks conduct heat. Near an old volcano, it was only a degree every twenty-five feet. Let's roll with the best-case scenario and do some math." "Do your thing," he said.

"Easy peasy," I replied, grabbing my notebook and pencil.

"Nine times one hundred and twenty-five feet is eleven hundred and twenty-five feet."

"Archimedes would’ve been so impressed," he added. "Okay?"

"Look, according to my calculations, we’re at least ten thousand feet below sea level." "Seriously?"

"Either my math is spot-on, or numbers are just lying to us."

The Professor’s calculations were totally correct. We were already six thousand feet deeper into the earth than anyone had ever gone before. The deepest anyone had reached before was in the mines of Kitzbuhel, in the Tirol, and in Wurttemberg.

The temperature, which should have been eighty-one, was only fifteen. That was a big deal.