"Stop, my boy," I imagine the impatient reader is now saying. "You had
better get out into daylight before you crow so loud; we don't see how
your great discovery is going to help you to do that." I presume not;
but you _will_ see, if you are only patient.

I now reasoned thus with myself: "If the axis of the earth is
hollow,--about which I have no doubt,--and open at both ends,--inasmuch
as it is winter at the south pole when it is summer at the north, and
_vice versa_,--there must always be a strong current of air passing
through it,--the cold air of one extreme rushing into the warmer region
at the opposite pole. I have, then, only to find some way of introducing
my body into the interior of this axis; and, by taking advantage of the
current, I shall soon be able to see daylight again."

The next thing, therefore, to be done was to find out whether it would
be possible for me to get inside the cylinder. I had observed, that in
some places the metal of which it was composed, showed the appearance
of being honey-combed; and this gave me some encouragement. I now
crawled, or rather swam, about the surface of this cylindrical mass of
metal, and soon found an orifice large enough for me to thrust in my
hand and arm up to the elbow. True enough, there _was_ a strong draught
in there, so strong that it seemed as if my arm would be wrenched from
the socket. Every doubt and difficulty were now removed, if I could only
find a hole in the cylinder three feet in diameter; and after an hour's
search, I lighted upon just what I wanted,--a good smooth opening, and
somewhat larger than was actually needed to pass my body through. This,
however, was fortunate, because I must have space enough to project
myself with some force from the orifice, or I might strike the side of
the cylinder, and be dashed into fragments.

Every thing was now ready: nerving my whole system for the terrible
effort and the frightful risk, I sprang with all my might into the axis
of the earth. After what I had experienced when I put my arm into the
cylinder, I expected, of course, as soon as my whole body was thrown in
there, that I should undergo the terrible sensation of being whirled
upward by a tornado. Instead of this, to my astonishment, the moment
that I had cleared the orifice through which I jumped I felt as though I
were floating stationary in the air. Could it be that I was deceived in
regard to the existence of the current? This could hardly be