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Updated: June 24, 2025
"What are you doing up here in this heaven-forsaken country?" "Why, I am an oil hunter," said the fat man, simply. "A what?" repeated Andy and Mark together. "Oil hunter. My name is Phineas Roebach, and I am in the employ of the Universal Oil Company. I am here as I have been in many lands boring for petroleum. You understand that my mission is semi-secret.
They had evidently sighted the sailing party, and they roared savagely and tried to head off the sleds. That they were wild with hunger, there could be no doubt. "I have heard the Indians say that, in bad seasons, the bears travel in packs like wolves, and will attack villages and tear the huts to pieces to get at the inmates," Roebach said, from the other sledge.
"Under the immediate conditions this vast river of ice may move forward at any moment." "Impossible, I tell you!" interrupted Phineas Roebach. "I tell you this is a 'dead' glacier. It has not been in motion for ages. I have seen the face of it at the lower end of this valley.
What the professor would have said was not spoken then. Mark interrupted by shouting: "Look ahead! Look ahead! What is that a river?" "There is no river of size in this locality," declared the professor, quickly, training his glasses on the white streak that appeared on the ground ahead. Phineas Roebach struggled forward to the operator's bench.
And along the edge of this cliff was a herd of sea lions, that roared mournfully as the sleds advanced. "Thank goodness!" exclaimed the professor. "There is meat again." Andy and Roebach needed no urging to the attack. Nor did the boys. They disembarked carefully and made a detour so as to get at the rear of the herd. The sea lion is not a very sagacious beast.
"At least, the ocean must be out yonder somewhere," declared Phineas Roebach, pointing down the nearest estuary of the Coleville. Professor Henderson did not verbally agree with this statement; yet he made no objection to the suggestion that the party take up its journey again toward the sea. The wind was fitful.
"Gollyation! is we goin' ter collek a nearthquake along wid dat chrisomela-bypunktater plant? And what good's a nearthquake w'en you got him?" This unanswerable question of the darkey's fell flat, for the party just then reached the huge, two-roomed log cabin in which Phineas Roebach made his headquarters.
Roebach, I am stating the exact truth when I say that we have been blown off the earth by that awful volcanic eruption, and that we are now floating on a torn-away world, or a new planet, in space, doubtless hanging between the earth and the sun. We are as unsafe as though we were on a wandering star, or meteor only this island is not afire.
"What do you mean, Professor?" cried Mark. "It's the earth!" exclaimed Jack Darrow. "It's the earth! We have left the earth is that it, Professor?" The old scientist nodded. Phineas Roebach snorted his disbelief, while Washington White gave vent to his trouble of mind most characteristically: "Goodness gracious gollyation! De fat am suah in de fiah now!
Roebach," he said, to the oil man, "that you had better remove such possessions as you can from this valley at once. And put your dogs somewhere so that they cannot run away like your Indians. If we are balked in attempting to repair the flying machine, these dogs and sleds are what we must depend upon." "To escape from this country, you mean, sir?" asked Mark.
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