Chapter 19The Western Gallery. A New Route

Our descent started up again using the second gallery. Hans took his usual spot up front. We didn’t go more than a hundred yards when the Professor checked out the walls.

"This is the original formation - we're on the right track - onwards is our hope!"

When the whole planet cooled down in the early hours of the world's first day, the shrinking of the earth caused a shake-up in its outer layer, followed by cracks, crevasses, and splits. The passage was one of these splits, through which, ages ago, molten granite had burst out.

The endless twists and turns created a super confusing maze through the old soil. As we went down, we saw layer after layer of the original soil, super detailed.

Geology sees this original soil as the foundation of the mineral crust, and knows it’s made up of three different layers, all sitting on the solid granite. No geologists had ever been in such an awesome spot to see nature in all its real, raw beauty.

A simple tool like a sounding rod couldn’t bring up the things valuable for studying the earth’s insides, which we were about to see with our own eyes, to touch with our own hands. Remember that I’m writing this after the trip.

Across the rocks, colored with gorgeous green, snaked metallic threads of copper, manganese, with hints of platinum and gold. I couldn’t help staring at these riches buried deep inside Mother Earth, and that no one would ever get to enjoy!

These treasures - massive and never-ending - were buried way back in the early days of the earth, at such crazy depths that no pry bar or pickaxe will ever pull them from their tomb!

The light from our Ruhmkorff's coil, boosted ten times over by all those crazy rock crystals, shot out in every direction. It felt like I was zooming through a giant, hollow diamond, with the rays creating a ton of wild effects.

Around six o'clock, this light show started fading, and soon it almost stopped completely. The walls of the gallery turned a dark, crystallized color.

White mica mixed with feldspar and quartz, forming what you could call real rock - the super-tough stone that holds up all four layers of the earth’s soil.

We were trapped in a massive granite prison!

It was now eight o'clock, and still no water. The suffering I went through was brutal. My uncle was still leading our little group. Nothing could get him to stop. I just had one thing on my mind. I was listening super hard for the sound of water.

But nothing - no cool sound of falling water reached my ears.

But eventually, my legs just gave out. I fought it as hard as I could, 'cause I didn't want to make my uncle stop. I knew that would be the final blow for him.

Suddenly, I felt totally wiped out. My eyes couldn’t focus; my knees were shaking. I let out a desperate yell - and I fell! "Help, help, I'm dying!"

My uncle turned and slowly came back. He looked at me with his arms crossed, and then one sentence slipped out, in a weak voice: "It's all over."

The last thing I saw was a face twisted with pain and sadness; and then my eyes shut.

I opened my eyes again and saw my companions lying close by, totally still, wrapped up in their big travel blankets. Were they asleep or... gone? Sleep wasn’t happening for me, not even close. After that fainting spell, I was wide awake. I was feeling so awful, like I was dying - seriously dying.

My uncle’s last words kept ringing in my ears - "It’s all over!" And he was probably right. In the state I was in, there was no way I'd ever see daylight again.

Above us were miles and miles of solid rock. Thinking about it, I felt like the whole weight of the world was on my shoulders. I was crushed, totally wiped out! I just wasted energy trying to move in my stone bed.

Hours and hours went by. A deep, creepy silence was everywhere - like a tomb. Nothing could get through those huge granite walls. It was insane to even think about it.

Eventually, even though I felt numb, something caught my attention. It was a quiet, weird noise. I watched closely and noticed the tunnel was getting darker. Then, through the little bit of light that was left, I thought I saw the Icelander heading out, holding a lamp.

What was his deal? Was Hans the guide ditching us? My uncle was either totally asleep - or gone. I tried to yell, to wake him up. My voice, weak and raspy from my dry, feverish throat, didn't echo in that scary place. My throat was so dry, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.

It was pitch black now, and even the faint sound of the guide's footsteps disappeared into the distance. My soul felt empty, and death sounded kinda appealing, just hurry up.

"Hans is leaving us," I shouted. " Hans - Hans, if you’re a man, come back."

"Seriously, I was freaking out," I thought.

"But now I feel kinda bad for jumping to conclusions about a guy who’s always been so cool." Nothing he’s ever done gave me a reason to doubt him.

Plus, when I actually thought about it, it made sense. He wasn't trying to escape - he was heading further down, into that drop. If he was up to something shady, he’d have gone up.

That actually calmed me down a bit, and I started to feel hopeful!

Good ol’, chill, and unflappable Hans wouldn’t just wake up for no reason. Was he going on some kind of adventure? Did he finally hear that sweet sound we were all hoping for, during the quiet of the night?