The Sunless City
by James Edward Preston Muddock
Chapter XI
1722944The Sunless City — Chapter XIJames Edward Preston Muddock


The Sea of Echoes


Some time elapsed, it really seemed an age to the trembling Flin.

The roar was now awful. Presently the vessel was suddenly lifted up, then shot forward like an arrow from a bow, then rolled round and round, like a skittle ball, sending Flin and all the loose articles flying about in mad confusion. He managed to grasp the legs of the table, and hold on --- so he says --- with the tenacity of a leech. But the horrible manner in which the fish went up and down, rolled round and round and waltzed about, cannot be realised by any amount of word picturing. Flin was terribly bruised but otherwise uninjured by being knocked about, though he got a little light-headed by being whirled round and round.

This violent motion continued for a long while, and then gradually grew less, until it gave place to a gentle undulation, when, exhausted and faint, Flin Flon sank into a sound sleep, and continued so for some hours. On awakening his first thought was that he had been dreaming some horrid dreams, but, on attempting to rise, he found his limbs so stiff and swollen and lacerated that he could only regain his feet with the greatest difficulty. He was really in a pitiable condition, and he sunk back upon the cushioned seat near the table, to try and collect his scattered thoughts. As he surveyed the interior of the vessel it seemed to him to be a perfect wreck. Everything was in a state of chaotic confusion. One valuable chronometer was lying on the floor smashed to pieces, a barometer was also rendered useless, and several bottles of the prepared phosphorous, which had been used for the purpose of giving light in the interior of the vessel, were displaced, and were lying on the deck. Fortunately these bottles had been enclosed in copper netting, otherwise they might have been broken, and the consequences then would have been serious, as the phosphorus would have burst into flame. In short, everything that had not been secured was displaced, and the sight was a woeful one.

Poor Flin sat for some time surveying the mischief. One thing was clear, his stout little vessel had passed through some terrible danger, but had weathered it safely, and he himself lived. In that fact there was matter for intense gratification. As he gradually recovered from the effects of his tossing about he saw that immediate action was necessary, and that he must make a careful survey of the fish, as well as of his instruments; for after all he might be hallooing before he was out of the wood. He managed to struggle to his feet, and, feeling a little faint, he thought it was owing to the badness of the air in the interior, so he inspected the chemical apparatus, and was not a little alarmed to find that it had been displaced, and the decomposition of the chemicals that produced the properties of atmospheric air was all but stopped. Attached to this apparatus was an ozonometer, but it indicated that there was absolutely no ozone in the air. The cells containing the nitric acid from which the nitrogen was evolved were deranged, and as Flin noticed this he saw how wonderfully narrow his escape from death had been; for not only had dangers without threatened him, but dangers within also, as he must have died if the air-producing apparatus had ceased to act entirely.

But before proceeding to rectify matters, he felt that it was necessary to recuperate his strength with some stimulant, and he therefore crept to his little sleeping apartment, where he kept his stock of snuff, and the first pinch of the fragrant dust seemed to have an almost electrical effect upon him. It inspired him with new hope, new courage, new energies. And when he had drunk a pint of champagne he felt quite a different man. A cursory examination of his person proved that there were no bones broken, nor any serious injury, and he was so reinvigorated by the refreshment that he scarcely felt the pain of his bruises.

"But where am I?" he suddenly exclaimed, as he began to think it was high time he found out the position of the vessel, which, with the exception of a slight undulating motion, was as steady as a ship riding at anchor in a calm bay.

From the windows in the head a beautiful light was streaming in. One lamp had been displaced and was lying on the floor, the other was still burning, but its light was paled by the brighter light outside.

As Flin looked through the little portholes his eyes were dazzled for some moments, but when they had become used to the glare he uttered a cry of astonishment.

On one side was what appeared to be a pier or jetty, and as far as the eye could reach on the other side stretched a calm sea that seemed roseate-flushed as if with the rays of the rising sun.

He literally sprang to the door of the vessel and opened it, and as he stepped out on the back of the fish such a view met his gaze that he was speechless with wonder. What had seemed like a jetty was the end of a long ledge of rock. A sort of breakwater in fact, the top of which was perfectly flat as if formed for a promenade. Then for miles was a coast-line of the most wonderful and fantastic rocks the imagination can possibly conceive. They were pointed like pyramids, jagged like the teeth of a saw, ridged like the roof of a house, carved with minarets, rounded into domes, humped like a camel, curling like a wave, curved like the seat of a saddle, and between the rifts, and clefts, and broken masses of rocks a thousand waterfalls tumbled. Some had the appearance of mere trickling rivulets; others again were giant cataracts that thundered over the mighty cliffs.

To the right was an open sea. But the most wonderful thing was that far above the air was filled with cumulus clouds, that floated through an azure sky. The clouds were of the most beautiful tints. There were rose colour, amber, purple, magenta, crimson, yellow, silver and pure white that looked like well- washed fleece. It was a marvellous sight.

A soft balmy breeze blew over the water, scarcely ruffling its surface. The light evidently came from the clouds, the white being so intense as to dazzle the eyes. But the various rays blending together threw a fairy-like glamour over the scene.

At first Flin thought that he had come out in one of the upper oceans, near some tropical coast, though a very little reflection served to convince him of the error of this. He had reached a central sea, and as he realised this fact he fairly clapped his hands with joy. There was no sun, that was a certainty. The clouds answered the purpose of a sun, and his philosophic mind was not long in accounting for the phenomenon. The roof of this stupendous cavern was the inner crust of the earth, and to it the vapours were attracted in enormous masses, and were there highly electrified by the earth's currents of electricity, the various colours depending on the density of the vapours and the strength of the currents. That this was so Flin had little doubt, because where the clouds were loose and fleecy, the light was silvery or golden, but where they were heavy and dense they emitted a light of a darker tint. He also noticed that the rocks were striped in different colours, though the prevailing one was a white band, and he felt pretty sure that this was due to nitro magnesite. The waterfalls he accounted for by the bursting of the masses of clouds as they were caught by the splintered aiguilles.

Turning round and looking in the direction from which he believed he had come, Flin saw that the horizon was filled with what appeared to be smoke, illuminated by coloured flames, and he felt that his explorations would be far from complete unless he discovered the cause of this smoke, as well as found out the way by which he had entered this beautiful sea.

He had much to do, however, before he could continue his voyage of discovery. There was his vessel to get in order again, the chemical apparatus to set right, and various scientific observations to be made.

He found that the compasses were quite useless for all practical purposes. The needles had a tendency to point upwards. And this convinced him that the magnetic north was above, he being in the centre of the earth. The temperature of the air, out of the vessel, was 70 1/2 degrees, and that of the water was 60 degrees. He made some calculation with reference to the height of the cliffs, and computed the minimum height at 300 feet, and the maximum at 2000. He tried for soundings alongside the vessel, but his line went plump down for one hundred fathoms without finding bottom.

Having completed his work and got things ship-shape again, he set his paddle-wheels in motion, and ran clear of the ledge of rock which had given him such safe shelter.

I have hitherto omitted to mention that the vessel was provided with a most ingenious sail. It was triangular in shape, and not unlike the wing of a flying fish. It was constructed of light but very strong silk, made specially for the purpose. It was attached to a light iron mast, and shut up like a fan, so that when it was closed it lay in a groove along what represented the spine of the fish.

As soon as the traveller had got clear of the rocks, he set this sail for the first time, and as the mast worked on a pivot he was enabled to trim the sail any way that was necessary; the sheet was made of very strong silk line through which a fine thread of wire was twisted. He turned the head of the vessel towards the horizon where he saw the smoke, and set his sail to catch the air. The fish was soon bowling along at a rapid rate, so that Flin was astonished at first as there did not seem to be much wind. But he soon remembered that at great depths the layers of atmosphere were very dense, and, consequently, had immense propelling power, so that what really seemed to be nothing more than a zephyr was equal to a moderate gale of the upper world, where the air was expanded and not compressed. As he recollected this he shuddered as he thought how awful the effects of subterranean storm would be when this compressed air was in violent motion.

However, at present there seemed to be no cause for fear. All Nature was smiling. The soft electric light filled the region with a beauty and warmth that was delightful.

As he sailed along the coast the scene was grandly wild. In some parts the water fell over the cliffs in an unbroken fall of a thousand feet, and presented all the appearance of a fairy fountain, as the spray was illuminated by the various lights. Again rugged gorges, dark and grim, stretched away inland, and down these the water rushed impetuously over masses of boulders, and presented the appearance of a mountain torrent.

As Flin drew nearer to the supposed smoke he found the air filled with fine mist that fell like dew and wetted him through. But it will be remembered that he had not much in the way of clothes to wet, for his only garment was the dress shirt, and that was now very torn and soiled. Of course in that great central sea of the inner earth it did not matter, for he apparently was the only living thing. Nevertheless the little man regretted that he had not a pair of smalls to cover his lower extremities.

As the voyager drew nearer the object of his curiosity a low muffled roar broke upon his ears, and this roar increased as he proceeded, until it became terrific, and he was astonished to find that what he had taken to be smoke was columns of spray. In a few minutes he was startled to observe that he was approaching what appeared to be a waterspout of incomprehensibly huge proportions. The sea around him had now become agitated and milky white, and a tremendous current was setting against him, so that the vessel only made very slow progress. He now took the precaution to screw down the door of the fish, though he determined to remain outside, having lashed himself with a cord to the mast. He soon became aware that ahead of him was a massive barrier of rocks, towering up hundreds of feet, but which were almost obscured by the smoke-like spray and the showers of water. The din was terrific and deafening. And, as the sea got rougher, Flin altered his course and ran parallel with the barrier or reef. He continued on this track for some miles, till the end of the reef was reached, and he then hauled up and sailed between it and a line of frowning, rugged cliffs, whose tops were lost in the clouds. The sea here was very rough, and the fish was tossed about in an alarming manner. But not a muscle of Flin's face quivered. The awe-inspiring sight thrilled him, and he was determined to go on even though he perished. Soon his courage and perseverance were rewarded by a spectacle that can only be expressed by the one word --- awful. From a huge cavern in the cliffs mighty volumes of water were rushing out with a force that was appalling, and striking against the reef, were flung into the air in the form of a spout, hundreds of feet high, and fell again over an area of three or four miles in a terrible deluge.

Flin furled his sail and watched this natural phenomenon in awe-stricken silence, and he saw how much he had to be thankful for, and what an incredibly narrow escape he had had. This was the outlet of the river, down which he had travelled from Lake Avernus. It was in point of fact the mouth of a monstrous culvert that drained off the surplus waters of the mysterious tarn. He had solved the problem at last. Down here he had been carried in his fish, then sucked into the vortex of the stupendous whirlpool, thrown up by the upward rush of waters, and had fallen on the other side of the barrier, and been carried by the current to where he had found his vessel when he awoke from his sleep.

As he did not deem it safe to approach any nearer the whirlpool, lest he might again be drawn within its influence, he made sail and steered away. But he noticed that the iron barrier of rocks against which the surf beat with such appalling fury was worn perfectly smooth. There was evidence, too, in the masses of island-like boulders which were scattered about on the sea side of the reef, that it was gradually being reduced by the action of the thundering waters, and Flin had no doubt that in the course of ages this solid breakwater, formed by Nature's own hand, would succumb to the terrible force brought against it, and ultimately disappear; or, at anyrate, cease to obstruct in such a remarkable manner the great outpour from the upper earth.

He steered his fish once more out into the open sea, and taking his bearings from the barrier, he was determined to keep a course to a diametrically opposite point, which he believed to be east. He based this belief on the tendency the needles of the compasses had to point upward; and so he thought the true magnetic north of the earth was upward, and the south below him, so that the points corresponding to the north and south were not so in reality in the central world. Moreover, he did not clearly see that he had reached the level of the waters. His own opinion was that they were still flowing downwards, and that this was but an upper sea, and a lower one would yet have to be reached. If this theory was correct, the currents would naturally be setting away from the barrier, and that this was the case was partly proved by the vessel having drifted so far down the sea after it had been thrown over the barrier.

Having got well out again, Flin unscrewed the door of the vessel, and procuring a small bucket, he dipped up some of the sea water, and tested it. He found that it was intensely salt and slightly bitter.

As he was desirous of exploring the coast a little, he steered for the ledge of rock under which he had found himself when he awoke after being thrown over the barrier. Arrived here he made the vessel fast with a stout rope, and found no difficulty in getting on to the ledge, along which he walked for a considerable distance, until he reached the strand from which the ledge projected. His feet suffered very much owing to the want of boots, but he did not allow this to interfere with what he considered to be his duty.

A careful inspection proved that all the rocks were Plutonic. There were traces of fire everywhere, and this accounted for the great rifts which formed the gorges. For, as the rocks cooled, and water came in contact with them, they had shivered and splintered in every imaginable way. Now that he stood upon the shore he thought a more weird or gloomy place could not be imagined. It was like the realisation of some of Dante's pictures.

Having collected a considerable quantity of the nitromagnesite, which abounded everywhere, and chipped off some pieces of rock, in which he was surprised to find traces of gold, he was about to return to his vessel, when he was startled by a strange noise that was something between a pig's grunt and a lion's roar. He turned quickly round to behold a gigantic turtle seated on a point of rock. The animal was evidently no less astonished at him than he was at it. And he stood spellbound, for the monster surpassed in size anything that he had dreamt of in his philosophy. He had often seen in the upper world portraits of the megalosaurus and other supposed extinct gigantic animals and reptiles. But nothing approaching this living specimen now before him had ever come under his notice. He calculated that in the broadest part of its back it measured thirty-five feet, and from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail seventy-five feet. And, lest it should be thought that his spectacles had caused him to exaggerate the size of this brute, Mr Flonatin distinctly mentions in his diary that he took his spectacles off and saw the creature with his naked eyes. But not feeling disposed --- and very wisely so --- to approach nearer the monster with his naked body, and unarmed as he was, Flin hurried back to procure a gun which he had fortunately provided himself with, for he was determined not to lose the opportunity of being able to say that he had shot at an antediluvian animal, and for which he would have sacrificed five of the best years of his life, had it been possible, to have conveyed the thing alive to his friend Barnum's museum. However, he thought it was within the bounds of probability that, could he succeed in killing the beast, he might, with the instruments he had provided himself with on board, be able to cut the shell up into sections, and should he ever reach the upper world again, place them in the museum.

His gun was a heavy double-barrelled one, and he put a large charge of powder into each barrel, and then rammed home two bullets, weighing an ounce each.

He had been a keen sportsman in his day, and accounted a good shot, but he had never before had to deal with such huge game. This did not daunt him, however, and getting within range of where the turtle still sat, he lay down at full length, and resting his gun on a boulder, he took long and deliberate aim, and fired. The first bullet glanced harmlessly off the horny back of the monster, and Flin quickly fired his other barrel, with a like effect, though the creature evidently deemed it politic to remove from the neighbourhood of an animal that spat fire, and it coolly turned round and slipped into the water.

About five minutes after the last barrel had been discharged, Flin was returning to the vessel, when he suddenly stood rooted to the spot by what seemed to be a clap of thunder that fairly shook even the granite rocks. The most terrific peal that he ever heard in the upper world --- and he had heard a good many thunderstorms --- sank into insignificance when compared with this clap. It rolled all round the cliffs, then gathered up strength again, and burst overhead, then partly died away, and came up once more from across the sea, and was repeated amongst the cliffs, until poor Flin, who had crouched down on the rocks, was positively deafened by the awful roar, though he very soon guessed that it was not thunder at all, but the echo of his own gun. Those persons who have heard the multiplying echoes of Killarney, and the Swiss Alps, will be able to understand this. The sound of firing down in this central sea, not being able to escape into the limitless expanse of space, and being intensified by the compressed air, was simply stupendous. It took a full hour before the echo died away. Mr. Flonatin blamed himself very much for his want of caution, as he says a moment's consideration would have convinced him what the effect of a gun being discharged in such a place would be. Moreover, he had run the risk of disturbing the electrical clouds, and had he done so he trembled as he thought what the consequences might have been. He made up his mind not to act so precipitately in the future.

Having had ocular demonstrations that there was animal life in the regions, he began to speculate as to whether there might not be human beings. It was in quest of inhabitants that he had chiefly undertaken this journey into the centre of the world. And the conviction that he would find people was considerably strengthened by what he had already seen.

On getting on board of his vessel he decided not to set sail until he had thoroughly rested, for he was very weary and his limbs ached.

His day marker indicated that he had been out eighteen days, and the chronometers marked 4:30 p.m., New York time. As he had two of these instruments remaining --- he had had three when he left, but one had been ruined when the fish was thrown over the barrier --- he decided to alter the time of one, so that he might have a night and day. That is a time for labour and a time for rest, because there was no atmospheric change to mark one part of the twenty-four hours from another. He therefore set the chronometer to ten o'clock, and considered that to be his bed- time, and he would rest till eight o'clock when that would be the commencement of a new day for him.

Before retiring to rest he thought he would christen the sea, he therefore opened a pint bottle of champagne, and sprinkling the wine on the rocks and in the water, he said, with great solemnity, ---

"I, Josiah Flintabbatey Flonatin, F.S.E.U.R., hereby, in the name of the President of the United States and the great American Republic, and on behalf of the Society for the Exploration of Unknown Regions, take possession of this portion of our globe, and call the place the Sea of Echoes, by which name it shall ever be known."

Having performed this ceremony he had his supper, screwed up the door, and went to bed.