*XX.*

  Nearly a day had passed since we first entered this great sterile,superheated plain, and notwithstanding our speed, the end was nowhere insight, even at the expiration of eleven hours. The temperature hadbecome so oppressive that we had no appetite, and sat fanning ourselveswith wet cloths and moistening our heads and faces and wrists, in a vaineffort to keep cool. At this time the thermometer registered onehundred and ten degrees, and was steadily rising. We had tried variouselevations, but could not perceive that it was more tolerable at aheight of five hundred than one hundred feet from the ground. In factit was the same everywhere, and upon every side of us--above, below,before, behind. We had discussed the advisability of returning, butpushed ahead with the conviction that a change for the better must sooncome. We dreaded to retrace our steps with the possibility of beinglost, and were loath to miss the strange sights that might be in storefor us in the regions of the antarctic opening. There could be noquestion that the heat was subterranean, and indeed when we had lastlanded the sand was so hot that we could scarcely bear our feet in it.

  I was searching the horizon ahead, while Torrence was examining the skyfor electrical phenomena, when a sight met my eyes that filled me withunspeakable horror. We were rushing upon a sea of liquid fire, whichextended in the distance as far as eye could reach, and from east towest without apparent limit. It was an awful picture. There was noescaping it, unless by retreat. I shouted to Torrence, who turnedimmediately from the sky, to the fearful horizon ahead.

  "There is nothing to be done," I cried, "but return!"

  The atmosphere was quivering like a glowing oven, and from the fiery seato the sky above the waves of vapor rose and fell like the spirits ofthe flames themselves. As we drifted on, the heat grew more intense,and the vital principle of the atmosphere was gone. The sea was rushingupon us with awful speed, and with each minute of advance the air becamemore stifling. Torrence's hand was upon the lever, but not to slackenspeed. Was he mad? Had the fellow become insane? I asked him thequestion, for although rising to a tremendous height, he had pushed theair ship up to her highest speed, and it would be but a few minutesbefore we should be launched directly over that awful hell of fire.

  "Have you lost your mind?" I shouted; "what are you about?"

  "Gurt, brace yourself for a strain; we can stand it!"

  "Stand what?"

  "Go below! Get some buckets of water and sponges. I am going to crossthat sea!"

  "Stop!" I cried, grasping his arm, "are you going to kill us?"

  He shook me off.

  "Get the water," he said, "and be quick about it."

  Still I was immovable, while the air ship seemed to leap through the airat the rate of a mile a minute. I could scarcely breathe. The fieryworld ahead was not a mile away. Our lungs would be consumed in thathorrible incandescent vapor. No living creature could stand it. Icontinued to hesitate.

  "Damn you!" roared Torrence; "if you don't get the water you can standwhere you are and be burned. I would cross that sea if it were athousand times hotter than hell. But I tell you I do not believe it iswide, and we shall be safely over in an hour, if you will trust me.Don't stop to talk, for I am determined, and will drag both ourskeletons through to the bitter end, sooner than turn back now!"

  I ran below as fast as possible after the water, for I saw that argumentwas useless, and my fears for Torrence's sanity were also aroused.

  On reaching deck the sea was beneath, and the incandescent atmospherearound us. I saw Torrence through a yellow haze, holding fast to thelever, and cramming his handkerchief into his mouth. I staggered towardhim with the bucket, and pressed a wet sponge upon his head; doing thesame immediately for myself. The water saturated us, and enabled us toget our breath, which came in gasps. I plied the sponges constantly andregularly, at the same time watching the horizon for a change, with thedeepest anxiety; but the sea was dazzling and the volatile gases whichascended both blinding and stifling. As far as the eye could reach,before, behind, and upon either side, great lurid flames leaped up fromthe ground, and beyond the limit of their powers this deadly vaporsurrounded and penetrated every tissue of our being. At each breath,these poisonous gases burned and scorched their way into our lungs,shriveling our lips and throats like the fumes of sulphur. Again andagain I rushed below for water, and again staggered on deck scarcelyable to support my load. But it was not until the sixth or seventhtrip, when the hair on our heads was positively singeing, and the skinor my brother's face looked like parchment, that I made the fearfuldiscovery that the water was nearly out! I was drawing upon the lastcask. What was to be done? It would be useless to talk to Torrence; hewould drive the air ship into hell before he would turn back, as he hadalready said. Should I endeavor to overpower him, seize the levermyself, and retreat, if indeed it were yet possible to do so? or shouldI die in furthering his insane determination? I crawled on deck withthe last bucket of water, still undecided.

  "The water is out!" I yelled through the roaring of the flames. "Do youstill persist?"

  Torrence did not answer, but pointed below, and in an agony of horror Isaw what he meant. Our end was at hand; for the vessel was sinking intothe fiery mass beneath.

  "It's the heat!" he said hoarsely. "It's too late to talk aboutreturning. The fire has damaged the vibrator. We can't keep her afloatan hour to save our souls; and the end may be nearer ahead than behindus!"

  He then stood quietly watching our gradual descent into the pestilentialfumes with an indifference that amazed me. I should not say that he wasindifferent, but that he had every appearance of it. We sank upon thedeck, side by side, mopping ourselves with the last spongeful of waterand wondering how soon the end would come. Suddenly Torrence jumped upand staggered to the rail.

  "It is cooler!" he shouted; "I feel it. We are still high above thefire. If we can keep afloat for ten minutes longer we are saved!"

  "How do you propose to do it?" I gasped.

  "Throw out the gold! Throw out the gold!" he roared,

  We were unable to stand erect, but stumbled, and crawled, and staggeredinto the saloon. Alas! we were too weak to lift the metal in theoriginal packages, but took out huge chunks from the sacks, throwingthem overboard through the windows.

  "Be quick, for God's sake," called Torrence, as a great yellow flameleaped into the air higher than the others. We were heaving out theyellow metal as fast as possible, and bag after bag had been disposedof, when we both became sensible of a marked change in the atmosphere.

  "It is cooler!" I said, taking time to rest for a second.

  Torrence implored me not to stop, so I resumed the work, and together wehad thrown out half the gold, when we sank down thoroughly exhausted.For several minutes neither of us had strength to move, not reallycaring much whether we were burned alive or not. But at last there camea change, and we crawled to port and looked overboard. We had passedthe fiery sea, and were hovering over a sandy desert, similar to the onealready crossed.

  "We are saved!" exclaimed Torrence, pressing his hand against hisparched cheek; "this desert evidently surrounds the crater."

  "Strange name for an ocean of fire!" I remarked.

  "Perhaps you would rather say the fountain head of the crater," hereplied; "for I believe that this sea of burning bitumen is thefoundation for one or more of the volcanoes in our own world. Does itnot seem strange that the story of a fiery hell, situated beneath theearth, should have such a striking exemplification in fact?"

  I admitted that it was extraordinary, and then crawled to the upperdeck, and looked about. The sea of fire was still visible in thedistance, and despite the fact that half our gold was gone, we werefalling rapidly earthward. The self-registering thermometer showed thatwe had passed through a temperature of one hundred and thirty-fivedegrees, which seemed incredible; a heat which no human creature couldhave stood, were it not for the entire absence of moisture, and,paradoxical as it may appear, for
the constant application of the wetsponge. Of course this water was cool by comparison with the air,otherwise it would have scalded us. As it was, its constant evaporationpreserved our lives. Even now the thermometer recorded one hundred andfifteen degrees, but this was cool and comfortable.

  Much as we regretted the loss of the gold we were impelled to throw overstill more, being anxious to reach water, and a better climate beforeundertaking repairs upon the vessel; and so we probably threw over thetrifle of a hundred thousand dollars in additional ore in the effort torestore our buoyancy. Fortunately we were not obliged to part with ourjewels, wherein lay our principal wealth.

  The vessel was now pushed to her full capacity, which was not more thantwenty miles an hour, and constantly decreasing, together with analarming tendency to drop earthward. We had just come through suchhorrors that nothing could seriously disconcert us, and I felt,moreover, every confidence in my brother's ability to repair andreadjust the vibrator as soon as we had reached a suitable place for thework.

  About half a bucket of water was left, obliging us to use it with thegreatest economy, and as the heat was still intense, our thirstcontinued to be quite painful. We kept our places on deck, scanning thehorizon for indications of water or vegetation, but the burning red sandusurped the earth in every direction. We felt, however, that there wasreason to hope for relief, on account of the increased humidity and thegradual falling of the temperature. However slight this may have been,it indicated that we were going in the right direction, if we could onlyhold out long enough.

  Steadily our speed fell off, and slowly, but steadily, we sankearthward. At last, when an indescribable apathy was stealing over us,we discovered a sight which filled our hearts with hope. It was a rangeof sharp, precipitous mountains, silhouetted against the southern sky.

  It seems proper in this connection to explain the use of a word whichmight appear paradoxical in our peculiar situation. The word I refer tois "horizon." To an outsider the expression might seem only applicableto conditions of the external globe, but when it is borne in mind thatour range of vision rarely exceeded twenty miles, it will be seen thatthe concavity of the earth was not any more apparent than the convexitywould be with us, in a similar panorama. Beyond this, the state of theatmosphere afforded as true a horizon as any upon our exterior plane.To be sure it was not always so clear cut as our own upon certainoccasions, the land blending with the sky, as on a cloudy day with us,but there is nothing in that respect which is not thoroughly agreeableand natural. No one could have guessed, from the simple appearance ofearth or sky line that he was not a dweller of the outer world. Thesights which amazed us were those already described, and perhaps ofthese the most astounding was the great disk of light in the heavens.

  The mountain range, which had been gradually looming up before us, nowgave us fresh courage, for surely where there are mountains there mustbe water. Help was ahead, but we must reach it before the air shipcollapsed. The poor thing which had been so buoyant, so fleet andpowerful hitherto, was now a miserable cripple, requiring constant careto keep it afloat. Every bulky or weighty object that we could possiblyspare was thrown over, but there came a time when we saw that she mustsink to the ground within a mile. Our speed had also been greatlydecreased, so that during the last hour we could have walked very nearlyas far as we had sailed. At last we settled gently upon the red,burning sand like a feather undecided whether to fall or rise. Wescrambled over the side, and for the first time since leaving Londonfelt the poverty of man's power of locomotion.

  "And is this to be the end of all our efforts?" I inquired despondingly,throwing myself on the hot sand beside Torrence.

  "Undoubtedly, if we lie here more than five minutes!" he answered,wiping his face with the damp sponge.

  "And what do you propose doing?" I inquired.

  "We must get to those hills, dead or alive," he replied; "and we must beabout it directly."

  "Do you intend walking?"

  "Yes, if we can't patch up the machine."

  "We are a helpless couple, as it is," I remarked, rising, for the sandwas burning me.

  "It's a long way from home," observed Torrence with a sickly smile.

  I grinned.

  "Yes, and how magnificently we were talking about sailing through theSouth Pole; treating the earth as if it were a mere ball to be jumpedabout in at our pleasure. I feel as if I had suddenly fallen from thepowers of a god to those of a paralyzed caterpillar!"

  But Torrence was up.

  "I am dying of thirst," he said; "we must get to the hills or perish inthe sand. Do you know we shall be raving maniacs if we remain in thistemperature without water? Let us get to work and see what we can do.I have brought all kinds of tools and materials, perhaps we can get herafloat again."

  And so we crawled back into the big machine and down into the lowestcompartment, where the great vibrators and delicate mechanism werelocated. We worked hard for hours, under the most trying conditions,where heat and thirst were maddening, and feeling that every moment'sdelay brought us nearer the end of what we could stand. At last weeffected what Torrence believed would be a temporary adjustment of theparts, for it was all we could do under the circumstances.

  "With water and a cooler atmosphere I could make a perfect job," hedeclared; "but I am exhausted, and this must answer for the present."

  We climbed up on deck again and touched the button and shoved over thelever. The glory of the next minute eclipsed every sensation ofexultant joy, for the air ship rose like a Phoenix from the ashes andsailed. We dared not rise too high until better work should be done,but at fifty feet above the ground we again pressed ahead at twentymiles an hour. How long this would last we trembled to think, but morethan forty minutes had elapsed before we observed any lessening of thespeed; and then our hearts sank in proportion as we slowed down anddipped earthward.

  The temperature had materially fallen, but there was still no water insight, and our thirst was becoming unbearable, and at last the horridthud, as we again touched the earth sickened us.

  "Can we not patch her up again?" I asked.

  "As a matter of fact, we can," said Torrence, "but the bearings won'thold as long as before, for the simple reason that I have not thephysical strength to adjust them properly."

  "Let us try it at all events, and for God's sake be quick about it." Ifelt that my thirst was overcoming me.

  At the end of an hour we rose again, but this time not so high, norcould we go so fast, and at the expiration of twenty minutes we wereagain upon the ground.

  And so all day long we repeated these terrible heart-breakingexperiments, each time rising a little less, and falling a littlesooner. I use the word day as a mere measure of time, as, of course,there was no darkness; and all daylong the blue mountains hung like apainting against the sky, and seemed to get no nearer. Our resourceswere nearly exhausted. We could not speak above a whisper. My throatached, and the skin about my neck and cheeks felt like paper. But oursalvation lay in the air ship; by no other possible means could we hopeto escape the awful fate which threatened us.

  * * * * *

 
Charles Willing Beale's Novels