elous
position to study nature in all her real and naked beauty. The sounding
rod, a mere machine, could not bring to the surface of the earth the
objects of value for the study of its internal structure, which we were
about to see with our own eyes, to touch with our own hands.

Remember that I am writing this after the journey.

Across the streak of the rocks, colored by beautiful green tints, wound
metallic threads of copper, of manganese, with traces of platinum and
gold. I could not help gazing at these riches buried in the entrails of
Mother Earth, and of which no man would have the enjoyment to the end of
time! These treasures--mighty and inexhaustible, were buried in the
morning of the earth's history, at such awful depths, that no crowbar or
pickax will ever drag them from their tomb!

The light of our Ruhmkorff's coil, increased tenfold by the myriad of
prismatic masses of rock, sent its jets of fire in every direction, and
I could fancy myself traveling through a huge hollow diamond, the rays
of which produced myriads of extraordinary effects.

Towards six o'clock, this festival of light began sensibly and visibly
to decrease, and soon almost ceased. The sides of the gallery assumed a
crystallized tint, with a somber hue; white mica began to commingle more
freely with feldspar and quartz, to form what may be called the true
rock--the stone which is hard above all, that supports, without being
crushed, the four stories of the earth's soil.

We were walled by an immense prison of granite!

It was now eight o'clock, and still there was no sign of water. The
sufferings I endured were horrible. My uncle now kept at the head of our
little column. Nothing could induce him to stop. I, meanwhile, had but
one real thought. My ear was keenly on the watch to catch the sound of a
spring. But no pleasant sound of falling water fell upon my listening
ear.

But at last the time came when my limbs refused to carry me longer. I
contended heroically against the terrible tortures I endured, because I
did not wish to compel my uncle to halt. To him I knew this would be the
last fatal stroke.

Suddenly I felt a deadly faintness come over me. My eyes could no longer
see; my knees shook. I gave one despairing cry--and fell!

"Help, help, I am dying!"

My uncle turned and slowly retraced his steps. He looked at me with
folded arms, and then allowed one sentence to escape, in hollow accents,
from his lips:

"All is over.