It did come into my head for a minute that we might have opened up some
grave, or at least a place where human folk had been overtaken and
buried by lava from the mountain; but I soon gave this up, for the
earth was soft, and not a whit like lava, and as for a grave, no one
would have dug it so deep down in the earth. I was just as much vexed
as Billy was at this untoward event, but I think I was even more
curious to learn what was beneath our unlucky well, and I went back
soon into the hut, intending to examine the place. However, the evil
smell was so overpowering that I was fain to seek the open air again,
and it was some time, an hour or two, maybe, before the air became
clear enough for us to enter the hut with any comfort. Bethinking
myself that the clearing of the air showed that there might be nothing
very terrible below, the foul smell being due to the sudden release of
air long imprisoned, I got a length of our rope, and let it down with a
stone on the end until it touched the bottom, which we found to be
twice as deep as before; and when I did this, I perceived another thing
which seemed to me mighty strange, which was nothing less than a
current of air passing up through the well. There was, it is true, a
passage now between the lake-side and the hut, but we had felt no
current when the connection was first established, and yet we could not
conceive of a current coming from the very bowels of the earth. Billy
declared, in something of a fright, that we had got down to the roots
of the mountain, whence came the steam and the hot water; but I
answered that this was plainly absurd, the current of air that we felt
being perfectly cool, though not very fresh.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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