six o'clock
I could not help gazing at these riches buried in the entrails of Mother Earth , and of which no man would have the enjoyment to the end of time ! These treasures -- mighty and inexhaustible , were buried in the morning of the earth 's history , at such awful depths , that no crowbar or pickax will ever drag them from their tomb ! The light of our Ruhmkorff 's coil , increased tenfold by the myriad of prismatic masses of rock , sent its jets of fire in every direction , and I could fancy myself traveling through a huge hollow diamond , the rays of which produced myriads of extraordinary effects . Towards six o'clock , this festival of light began sensibly and visibly to decrease , and soon almost ceased . The sides of the gallery assumed a crystallized tint , with a somber hue ; white mica began to commingle more freely with feldspar and quartz , to form what may be called the true rock -- the stone which is hard above all , that supports , without being crushed , the four stories of the earth 's soil . We were walled by an immense prison of granite ! It was now eight o'clock , and still there was no sign of water .