Lost in the Bowels of the Earth

           Todescribemydespairwouldbeimpossible.Nowordscouldtellit.Iwasburiedalive,withtheprospectbeforemeofdyingofhungerandthirst.

           MechanicallyIsweptthegroundwithmyhands.Howdryandhardtherockseemedtome!

           ButhowhadIleftthecourseofthestream?Foritwasaterriblefactthatitnolongerranatmyside.ThenIunderstoodthereasonofthatfearful,silence,whenforthelasttimeIlistenedtohearifanysoundfrommycompanionscouldreachmyears.AtthemomentwhenIlefttherightroadIhadnotnoticedtheabsenceofthestream.Itisevidentthatatthatmomentadeviationhadpresenteditselfbeforeme,whilsttheHansbach,followingthecapriceofanotherincline,hadgonewithmycompanionsawayintounknowndepths.

           HowwasItoreturn?Therewasnotatraceoftheirfootstepsorofmyown,forthefootleftnomarkuponthegranitefloor.Irackedmybrainforasolutionofthisimpracticableproblem.Oneworddescribedmyposition.Lost!

           Lostatanimmeasurabledepth!Thirtyleaguesofrockseemedtoweighuponmyshoulderswithadreadfulpressure.Ifeltcrushed.

           Itriedtocarrybackmyideastothingsonthesurfaceoftheearth.Icouldscarcelysucceed.Hamburg,thehouseintheKönigstrasse,mypoorGräuben,allthatbusyworldunderneathwhichIwaswanderingabout,waspassinginrapidconfusionbeforemyterrifiedmemory.Icouldrevivewithvividrealityalltheincidentsofourvoyage,Iceland,M.Fridrikssen,Snæfell.Isaidtomyselfthatif,insuchapositionasIwasnowin,Iwasfoolenoughtoclingtooneglimpseofhope,itwouldbemadness,andthatthebestthingIcoulddowastodespair.

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