He called this sea a pond, and our long voyage, taking a little sail!
"But," I remarked, "since we have followed the road that Saknussemm has shown us—"
"That is just the question. Have we followed that road? Did Saknussemm meet this sheet of water? Did he cross it? Has not the stream that we followed led us altogether astray?"
"At any rate we cannot feel sorry to have come so far. This prospect is magnificent, and—"
"But I don't care for prospects. I came with an object, and I mean to attain it. Therefore don't talk to me about views and prospects."
I take this as my answer, and I leave the Professor to bite his lips with impatience. At six in the evening Hans asks for his wages, and his three rix dollars are counted out to him.
Sunday, August 16. —Nothing new. Weather unchanged. The wind freshens. On awaking, my first thought was to observe the intensity of the light. I was possessed with an apprehension lest the electric light should grow dim, or fail altogether. But there seemed no reason to fear. The shadow of the raft was clearly outlined upon the surface of the waves.
Truly this sea is of infinite width. It must be as wide as the
Mediterranean or the Atlantic—and why not?
My uncle took soundings several times. He tied the heaviest of our pickaxes to a long rope which he let down two hundred fathoms. No bottom yet; and we had some difficulty in hauling up our plummet.
But when the pick was shipped again, Hans pointed out on its surface deep prints as if it had been violently compressed between two hard bodies.