The sun poured a flood of light down the crater.
Every hillock, every rock and stone, every projecting surface, had its share of the beaming torrent, and threw its shadow on the ground.
Amongst them all, Scartaris laid down his sharp-pointed angular shadow which began to move slowly in the opposite direction to that of the radiant orb.
My uncle turned too, and followed it.
At noon, being at its least extent, it came and softly fell upon the edge of the middle chimney.
"There it is! there it is!" shouted the Professor.
"Now for the centre of the globe!" he added in Danish.
I looked at Hans, to hear what he would say.
"_Foruet!_" was his tranquil answer.
"Forward!" replied my uncle.
It was thirteen minutes past one..