n
into the gulf. Had he had any bad design, his way would have been
upwards.

This reasoning calmed me a little and I began to hope!

The good, and peaceful, and imperturbable Hans would certainly not have
arisen from his sleep without some serious and grave motive. Was he bent
on a voyage of discovery? During the deep, still silence of the night
had he at last heard that sweet murmur about which we were all so
anxious?

CHAPTER 20

WATER, WHERE IS IT? A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

During a long, long, weary hour, there crossed my wildly delirious brain
all sorts of reasons as to what could have aroused our quiet and
faithful guide. The most absurd and ridiculous ideas passed through my
head, each more impossible than the other. I believe I was either half
or wholly mad.

Suddenly, however, there arose, as it were from the depths of the earth,
a voice of comfort. It was the sound of footsteps! Hans was returning.

Presently the uncertain light began to shine upon the walls of the
passage, and then it came in view far down the sloping tunnel. At length
Hans himself appeared.

He approached my uncle, placed his hand upon his shoulder, and gently
awakened him. My uncle, as soon as he saw who it was, instantly arose.

"Well!" exclaimed the Professor.

"Vatten," said the hunter.

I did not know a single word of the Danish language, and yet by a sort
of mysterious instinct I understood what the guide had said.

"Water, water!" I cried, in a wild and frantic tone, clapping my hands,
and gesticulating like a madman.

"Water!" murmured my uncle, in a voice of deep emotion and gratitude.
"Hvar?" ("Where?")

"Nedat." ("Below.")

"Where? below!" I understood every word. I had caught the hunter by the
hands, and I shook them heartily, while he looked on with perfect
calmness.

The preparations for our departure did not take long, and we were soon
making a rapid descent into the tunnel.

An hour later we had advanced a thousand yards, and descended two
thousand feet.

At this moment I heard an accustomed and well-known sound running along
the floors of the granite rock--a kind of dull and sullen roar, like
that of a distant waterfall.

During the first half hour of our advance, not finding the discovered
spring, my feelings of intense suffering appeared to return. Once more I
began to lose all hope. My uncle, however, observing how downhearted I
was again becoming, took up the conversation.

"Hans was