Henry Lawson and Hans Bjelke

Henry Lawson and Hans Bjelke are linked by a relationship that begins as a practical hiring agreement and becomes immediately consequential at the mouth of the central shaft. Hans’s silence and composure contrast with Henry’s impulsive uncle and, later, with Henry’s own fear; when Henry leans over the abyss and loses his balance, Hans pulls him back with a firm hand. The guide’s steadiness is not merely a professional quality: at the moment the expedition crosses from preparation into danger, it helps keep Henry alive and moving forward.

Identity and First Impressions

Hans enters the account as a grave, sententious, silent person, phlegmatic in manner and introduced as the expedition’s future guide. Henry measures him against Professor Hardwigg, whose impulsiveness makes Hans seem an almost complete opposite. Yet this difference does not obstruct cooperation. The two men understand one another readily, and their agreement comes together because neither treats the negotiations as a struggle over money: Hardwigg is willing to offer what Hans asks, and Hans is willing to accept what is offered.

Henry’s first impression also sets up a contrast that will matter more under pressure. Hans does not advertise courage or argue against danger; he seems to accept difficulty as part of the work. Henry, by contrast, is attentive to his own hesitation and conscious of how his fear might look beside the guide’s calm. Their relationship is therefore characterized less by intimacy or shared outlook than by a practical trust tested in action.

The Agreement and the Road to Stapi

Hans is engaged to take the party to Stapi, on the southern slope of Sneffels’s peninsula, at the foot of the volcano. He estimates the journey at about twenty-two miles. Hardwigg initially imagines it as a roughly two-day trip, but the distance is measured in Danish miles of eight thousand yards each, and the terrible roads make an allowance of eight or ten days more realistic. The discrepancy makes Hans’s local knowledge essential: the guide knows the coast and promises to take the shortest route, while Hardwigg’s initial estimate has to yield to the actual scale and conditions of the journey.

Four horses are prepared, two for the baggage and two to carry Henry and Hardwigg. Hans refuses to ride any animal, saying that nothing will make him climb onto one; he knows every inch of the coastal region and will guide the party on foot by the shortest way. The detail distinguishes his expertise from a merely contractual service. He is not simply a hired passenger or escort: his familiarity with the ground determines how the expedition travels.

The arrangement extends beyond reaching Stapi. Hans agrees to remain in Hardwigg’s service throughout the scientific investigations, for a fixed wage of three rix-dollars a week—given as fourteen shillings and twopence, less one farthing, in English currency. His sole stated condition is that he be paid every Saturday night; otherwise, the engagement ends. When Hardwigg tries to give an advance, Hans refuses with the single word, “Efter.” The terse refusal fits the silent guide’s manner, while the weekly payment condition makes clear that his calm does not mean the absence of firm boundaries.

At the Threshold of the Descent

By the time the party reaches the central shaft, the journey changes in character. Earlier, courage and determination have overcome difficulties that have caused fatigue; ahead lie unknown and fearful dangers. Henry has not dared to look down the abyss until the moment of descent, and he recognizes that he can still refuse to take part. Hans’s tranquil acceptance of the difficulties, and his apparent indifference to danger, make Henry blush at the thought of seeming less manly than the guide. Rather than debate the expedition with Hardwigg, Henry falls silent in Hans’s presence, thinks briefly of his cousin, and advances toward the shaft.

The shaft is about a hundred feet across and three hundred feet in circumference. Henry leans over a rock at its edge and is overcome: his hair stands on end, his teeth chatter, his limbs tremble, and he feels his balance and head failing. As he seems about to plunge headlong into the well, Hans draws him back with a firm, powerful hand. This is the clearest action in their relationship: Hans’s composure becomes physical intervention, and the guide’s support prevents Henry’s fear from turning into a fatal fall.

The rescue does not erase Henry’s terror. He continues to describe the abyss as a powerful attraction and sees the shaft’s steep sides, marked by projections that might help the descent, as a wild staircase without railing or fence. He also notices a practical problem: a rope fixed above could support the party downward, but would have to be released once they reached the bottom. The scene thus places Hans’s immediate rescue beside the expedition’s unresolved dangers. His hand restores Henry to safety at the rim; it does not make the descent safe.

Contrast, Trust, and Narrative Function

The relation is built from a striking reversal of apparent authority. Hardwigg directs the expedition and hires Hans, but at the shaft’s edge it is Hans who acts decisively when Henry is incapacitated by fear. The guide’s silence and matter-of-fact manner, first presented as a contrast to Hardwigg’s impulsiveness, acquire practical force in the moment that Henry most needs another person’s steadiness. The arrangement is reciprocal in its own terms: Hans supplies local knowledge and guidance, while the expedition employs him under explicit financial conditions.

For Henry, Hans functions as a standard against which he judges his own courage. Henry advances partly because he is ashamed to appear more afraid than the guide, a response that reveals the pressure exerted by Hans’s composure even before Hans physically saves him. Yet the narrative does not reduce their bond to competition. At the decisive moment, Hans does not challenge or shame Henry; he simply catches him. Their relation therefore joins an outwardly practical contract to an immediate, concrete dependence: Henry can proceed into the underground journey because Hans’s calm becomes action at the brink.