CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

For an hour, I thought of several reasons for Hans to leave alone down the passage during the night. But finally, I heard him return. He went over to my uncle, put his hand on his shoulder, and gently woke him. My uncle stood up.

"What is it?" my uncle asked.

"Vatten," Hans replied.

"Water?" my uncle said, quite shocked at what he heard.

"Water! Water!" I cried as I jumped up.

We prepared to leave immediately. Soon we were walking along the passage again. Half an hour later, we had walked about six thousand feet, and gone down two thousand feet. At that moment, we heard the sound of water nearby.

"Hans wasn't mistaken," said my uncle. "There must be an underground river nearby."

We walked more quickly. I no longer felt tired. The sound of running water became louder as we walked deeper. Another half an hour went by and we walked another mile and a quarter. Hans had, obviously not gone farther than this, as he had heard the water, but did not actually find it.

We soon realized that we had begun moving away from the river, since the sound was becoming weaker. We turned back. Hans stopped at the place where the river seemed nearest. The water was behind one of the walls, but we were separated from the water by the thick wall made of rock. I then lost my hope of finding water. Hans then looked at me, and I thought I saw him smile. He took his lantern and walked to the wall, putting his ear close to it. He was listening for the strongest point of the running water. He then picked up one of the tools and began swinging it into the wall, to make a small hole where the water could escape.

"Saved!" I cried.

"Yes, Hans is right!" my uncle said with excitement. "What a clever man he is!"

But, what if rock flew at us, crushing us? What if the river burst through the wall and killed us? These were terrible fears, but nothing could keep us from our desire to drink water. Hans then began swinging the tool at the wall. He calmly swung at the same place repeatedly. After more than an hour, Hans had made a hole two feet deep. My uncle offered to help, and just as he took the tool, we heard the water burst through the wall. The spray of water was strong and almost knocked Hans over. He then cried out in pain. I then touched the water and felt the pain myself.

"This water's boiling hot!" I shouted.

"Well, it will cool down," my uncle replied.

After a short time, the water did, indeed, cool, and we drank some. What unbelievable pleasure! What kind of water was this? Where did it come from? I did not care; it saved me from death in that terrible passageway. After a minute of enjoying this new treasure, I exclaimed, "There's iron in this water!"

"Then it's excellent for the stomach," my uncle said, "and it must have other good minerals, as well."

"Oh, it's so good!"

"Of course, it's water from several miles underground. What a wonderful thing Hans has done for us. I must suggest that we name this stream after him."

"Yes!" I agreed.

And so, the stream that now flowed down the passage from the hole in the wall was named Hansbach.

"Now," I said, "we must fill this hole so the water does not all escape."

"Why?" my uncle asked, "I'm sure the river will never end."

"We should still fill our bottles, then try to stop the opening."

We then tried to repair the hole, but just burned our fingers. There was too much pressure and we soon gave up. Then, my uncle had an idea.

"Why should we close the opening?" he asked. "Later on, when our bottles are empty again, we cannot be sure that we'll find another river. We should let this stream continue. It will run downward, so it will guide us, as well."

"What a clever idea!" I said. "With this stream, we will surely be able to continue our journey to the end!"

"You're beginning to understand, my boy," the professor said, laughing.

By that time, it was late in the night. After eating, we were soon asleep and satisfied.

(end of section)