“What are you in a fright about now?” was the calm rejoinder. “What is the matter with you?”
“The matter? Look at those quaking walls! look at those shivering rocks. Don’t you feel the burning heat? Don’t you see how the water boils and bubbles? Are you blind to the dense vapours and steam growing thicker and denser every minute? See this agitated compass needle. It is an earthquake that is threatening us.”
My undaunted uncle calmly shook his head.
“Do you think,” said he, “an earthquake is coming?”
“I do.”
“Well, I think you are mistaken.”
“What! don’t you recognise the symptoms?”
“Of an earthquake? no! I am looking out for something better.”
“What can you mean? Explain?”
“It is an eruption, Axel.”
“An eruption! Do you mean to affirm that we are running up the shaft of a volcano?”
“I believe we are,” said the indomitable Professor with an air of perfect self-possession; “and it is the best thing that could possibly happen to us under our circumstances.”
The best thing! Was my uncle stark mad? What did the man mean? and what was the use of saying facetious things at a time like this?
“What!” I shouted. “Are we being taken up in an eruption? Our fate has flung us here among burning lavas, molten rocks, boiling waters, and