tion with them. It was folly, folly, folly! nothing else!

I am rather inclined to admit the existence of some animal resembling in
structure the human race--of some monkey of the first geological epochs,
like that discovered by M. Lartet in the ossiferous deposit of Sansan.

But this animal, or being, whichsoever it was, surpassed in height all
things known to modern science. Never mind. However unlikely it may be,
it might have been a monkey--but a man, a living man, and with him a
whole generation of gigantic animals, buried in the entrails of the
earth--it was too monstrous to be believed!

CHAPTER 37

THE MYSTERIOUS DAGGER

During this time, we had left the bright and transparent forest far
behind us. We were mute with astonishment, overcome by a kind of feeling
which was next door to apathy. We kept running in spite of ourselves. It
was a perfect Right, which resembled one of those horrible sensations we
sometimes meet with in our dreams.

Instinctively we made our way towards the Central Sea, and I cannot now
tell what wild thoughts passed through my mind, nor of what follies I
might have been guilty, but for a very serious preoccupation which
brought me back to practical life.

Though I was aware that we were treading on a soil quite new to us, I,
however, every now and then noticed certain aggregations of rock, the
shape of which forcibly reminded me of those near Port Gretchen.

This confirmed, moreover, the indications of the compass and our
extraordinary and unlooked-for, as well as involuntary, return to the
north of this great Central Sea. It was so like our starting point, that
I could scarcely doubt the reality of our position. Streams and cascades
fell in hundreds over the numerous projections of the rocks.

I actually thought I could see our faithful and monotonous Hans and the
wonderful grotto in which I had come back to life after my tremendous
fall.

Then, as we advanced still farther, the position of the cliffs, the
appearance of a stream, the unexpected profile of a rock, threw me again
into a state of bewildering doubt.

After some time, I explained my state of mental indecision to my uncle.
He confessed to a similar feeling of hesitation. He was totally unable
to make up his mind in the midst of this extraordinary but uniform
panorama.

"There can be no doubt," I insisted, "that we have not landed exactly at
the place whence we first took our departure; but the tempest has