Poems & Short Stories: 4,271
Forum Members: 70,634
Forum Posts: 1,033,546
And over 2 million unique readers monthly!
COMPASSION FUSES THE PROFESSOR'S HEART
Next day we started early. We had to hasten forward. It was a threedays' march to the cross roads.
I will not speak of the sufferings we endured in our return. My unclebore them with the angry impatience of a man obliged to own hisweakness; Hans with the resignation of his passive nature; I, Iconfess, with complaints and expressions of despair. I had no spiritto oppose this ill fortune.
As I had foretold, the water failed entirely by the end of the firstday's retrograde march. Our fluid aliment was now nothing but gin;but this infernal fluid burned my throat, and I could not even endurethe sight of it. I found the temperature and the air stifling.Fatigue paralysed my limbs. More than once I dropped down motionless.Then there was a halt; and my uncle and the Icelander did their bestto restore me. But I saw that the former was struggling painfullyagainst excessive fatigue and the tortures of thirst.
At last, on Tuesday, July 8, we arrived on our hands and knees, andhalf dead, at the junction of the two roads. There I dropped like alifeless lump, extended on the lava soil. It was ten in the morning.
Hans and my uncle, clinging to the wall, tried to nibble a few bitsof biscuit. Long moans escaped from my swollen lips.
After some time my uncle approached me and raised me in his arms.
"Poor boy!" said he, in genuine tones of compassion.
I was touched with these words, not being accustomed to see theexcitable Professor in a softened mood. I grasped his trembling handsin mine. He let me hold them and looked at me. His eyes weremoistened.
Then I saw him take the flask that was hanging at his side. To myamazement he placed it on my lips.
"Drink!" said he.
Had I heard him? Was my uncle beside himself? I stared at, himstupidly, and felt as if I could not understand him.
"Drink!" he said again.
And raising his flask he emptied it every drop between my lips.
Oh! infinite pleasure! a slender sip of water came to moisten myburning mouth. It was but one sip but it was enough to recall myebbing life.
I thanked my uncle with clasped hands.
"Yes," he said, "a draught of water; but it is the very last - youhear! - the last. I had kept it as a precious treasure at the bottomof my flask. Twenty times, nay, a hundred times, have I foughtagainst a frightful impulse to drink it off. But no, Axel, I kept itfor you."
"My dear uncle," I said, whilst hot tears trickled down my face.
"Yes, my poor boy, I knew that as soon as you arrived at these crossroads you would drop half dead, and I kept my last drop of water toreanimate you."
"Thank you, thank you," I said. Although my thirst was only partiallyquenched, yet some strength had returned. The muscles of my throat,until then contracted, now relaxed again; and the inflammation of mylips abated somewhat; and I was now able to speak. .
"Let us see," I said, "we have now but one thing to do. We have nowater; we must go back."
While I spoke my uncle avoided looking at me; he hung his head down;his eyes avoided mine.
"We must return," I exclaimed vehemently; "we must go back on our wayto Snæfell. May God give us strength to climb up the crater again!"
"Return!" said my uncle, as if he was rather answering himself thanme.
"Yes, return, without the loss of a minute."
A long silence followed.
"So then, Axel," replied the Professor ironically, "you have found nocourage or energy in these few drops of water?"
"I see you just as feeble-minded as you were before, and stillexpressing only despair!"
What sort of a man was this I had to do with, and what schemes was henow revolving in his fearless mind?
"What! you won't go back?"
"Should I renounce this expedition just when we have the fairestchance of success! Never!"
"Then must we resign ourselves to destruction?"
"No, Axel, no; go back. Hans will go with you. Leave me to myself!"
"Leave you here!"
"Leave me, I tell you. I have undertaken this expedition. I willcarry it out to the end, and I will not return. Go, Axel, go!"
My uncle was in high state of excitement. His voice, which had for amoment been tender and gentle, had now become hard and threatening.He was struggling with gloomy resolutions against impossibilities. Iwould not leave him in this bottomless abyss, and on the other handthe instinct of self-preservation prompted me to fly.
The guide watched this scene with his usual phlegmatic unconcern. Yethe understood perfectly well what was going on between his twocompanions. The gestures themselves were sufficient to show that wewere each bent on taking a different road; but Hans seemed to take nopart in a question upon which depended his life. He was ready tostart at a given signal, or to stay, if his master so willed it.
How I wished at this moment I could have made him understand me. Mywords, my complaints, my sorrow would have had some influence overthat frigid nature. Those dangers which our guide could notunderstand I could have demonstrated and proved to him. Together wemight have over-ruled the obstinate Professor; if it were needed, wemight perhaps have compelled him to regain the heights of Snæfell.
I drew near to Hans. I placed my hand upon his. He made no movement.My parted lips sufficiently revealed my sufferings. The Icelanderslowly moved his head, and calmly pointing to my uncle said:
"Master!" I shouted; "you madman! no, he is not the master of ourlife; we must fly, we must drag him. Do you hear me? Do youunderstand?"
I had seized Hans by the arm. I wished to oblige him to rise. Istrove with him. My uncle interposed.
"Be calm, Axel! you will get nothing from that immovable servant.Therefore, listen to my proposal."
I crossed my arms, and confronted my uncle boldly.
"The want of water," he said, "is the only obstacle in our way. Inthis eastern gallery made up of lavas, schists, and coal, we have notmet with a single particle of moisture. Perhaps we shall be morefortunate if we follow the western tunnel."
I shook my head incredulously.
"Hear me to the end," the Professor went on with a firm voice."Whilst you were lying there motionless, I went to examine theconformation of that gallery. It penetrates directly downward, and ina few hours it will bring us to the granite rocks. There we must meetwith abundant springs. The nature of the rock assures me of this, andinstinct agrees with logic to support my conviction. Now, this is myproposal. When Columbus asked of his ships' crews for three days moreto discover a new world, those crews, disheartened and sick as theywere, recognised the justice of the claim, and he discovered America.I am the Columbus of this nether world, and I only ask for one moreday. If in a single day I have not met with the water that we want, Iswear to you we will return to the surface of the earth."
In spite of my irritation I was moved with these words, as well aswith the violence my uncle was doing to his own wishes in making sohazardous a proposal.
"Well," I said, "do as you will, and God reward your superhumanenergy. You have now but a few hours to tempt fortune. Let us start!"
|Art of Worldly Wisdom Daily|
In the 1600s, Balthasar Gracian, a jesuit priest wrote 300 aphorisms on living life called "The Art of Worldly Wisdom." Join our newsletter below and read them all, one at a time.
Shakespeare wrote over 150 sonnets! Join our Sonnet-A-Day Newsletter and read them all, one at a time.