Chapter II: A Strange Journey 
Chapter II: A Strange Journey
On and on went Alice, sometimes walking, sometimes skipping merrily as she hummed a tune to herself. There was nothing at all to see in the tunnel, and after a time she began to think that she must have come a very long way. However, she seemed no nearer the end of the tunnel than when she had started: and when she looked behind her, expecting to see the round spot of daylight at the entrance, it had disappeared.
"Well, she said, surprised, "that's queer. I must have come round a bend without noticing it. This is certainly the longest tunnel I ever heard of, but there must be an end to it somewhere, so I may as well keep on walking," and on she went once more, humming her cheerful little tune.
The curved brass walls of the tunnel gleamed and shone so brightly that presently it occurred to Alice to wonder where the light came from which was reflected with such brilliance by the polished metal. She saw no electric bulbs or gas jets, and she couldn't understand why the tunnel was not quite dark inside, like those she had passed through on railroad trains.
"I s'pose," she decided, after puzzling over the question for some time - "I s'pose thzt one day some sunbeams must have wandered in here by mistake, and then they got lost and couldn't find the way out. Oh, dear! What if I should get lost and never find my way out?"
She felt just a wee bit frightened and had begun to walk faster when, all at once, she turned a sharp bend and came to the end of the tunnel. But instead of coming out into the open air, as she had expected, she found herself in a long hall with a vaulted roof, at either end of which was the entrance to another tunnel like the one through which she had come. The floor of the hall was level, but down the middle of it was a wide gap about four feet deep with two shiny rails running along the bottom. Alice concluded that she must be in a railway station - although she had never before seen a railway station made entirely of brass - and she had hardly come to that conclusion when a train, also made entirely of brass, without a locomotive, slid noiselessly out of one of the tunnels and came to a stop. Instantly all the doors opened, apparently of their own accord, and a faint, muffled voice which seemed to come from everywhere at once said, "All aboard - watch-a-door!"
Without stopping to think that she hadn't the least idea where it would take her, Alice got into one of the cars, the doors closed, and away went the train down the tunnel. Alice sat down and looked about her. Except for herself the car she was in was quite empty, and as far as she could see she was the only person in the entire train. She had never heard of a train without any passengers or even a conductor. "But," she thought, "maybe it's a good thing there isn't any conductor, since I haven't got a ticket. He might put me off the train - and I'm sure I'm tired enough of walking."
Just then, the queer, muffled voice which she had heard as she got into the train called out something that sounded like "Neckstar oofty ooftree!" The voice sounded so near that Alice jumped. She looked all about her but could see no one, and she was beginning to feel a bit uneasy when the train stopped at another station, the doors all opened as before, and the voice said again, "All aboard - watch-a-door!" This time Alice was ready for it, and discovered that it came from a sort of tin trumpet over her head. She decided that it must be some kind of talking machine, and wondered how it knew what to say and when to say it. Meanwhile the train had started again, and after a few moments the voice in the trumpet spoke again: "Neckstar oofty ooftree!"
"It's rather hard to understand," thought Alice. "I s'pose 'neckstar' means 'next stop,' and the rest of it must be the name of the station - something street, very likely. How anybody can tell which station is which I'm sure I don't know, because all the names sound exactly alike. But the stations all look exactly alike too, so p'raps it doesn't make much difference which one you get out at."
On went the train, through mile after mile of shining brass tunnel, stopping now and then at stations whose names all sounded like "oofty ooftree." As nobody ever got either into the train or out of it, and as nothing exciting had happened for a long while, Alice began to grow restless. She had nearly made up her mind to get out, herself, at the next station, when suddenly the train shot out of the tunnel into dazzling sunlight. Alice looked eagerly out of the window and saw that she was travelling through a very beautiful country. On either side of the railway spread lovely green meadows full of daisies and buttercups, while in the distance were rolling hills covered with trees. Here and there she saw a tiny house, painted white, with green blinds and a red roof, and all overgrown with ivy.
"Last stop - All out!" said the voice in the trumpet, quite distinctly this time. Alice obediently stepped out upon the station platform, and she had no sooner done so than the doors closed again and the train dashed off in the direction from which it had come.
Alice looked all about her, hoping to see somebody to whom she might speak, for there were a great many questions she wanted to ask. But there was not a living creature in sight; the station was as deserted as the train had been.
"Well," thought Alice, "this is certainly the loneliest place I ever saw. But may it's Sunday, and everybody's at church - or p'r'aps this is one of those countries where all the people take naps after luncheon. Anyhow, I may as well walk about a bit and see what the village is like; and I might meet somebody to talk to." There was a door near the center of the platform which looked as if it might lead to the street, and Alice had just started toward it when she was startled by a loud rumbling sound close beside her. The only object on the station platform was a curiously shaped trunk which looked somewhat like an enormous bottle with a long neck, only it was square instead of round. It stood on end with its back against the wall, and it was rather more than twice as tall as Alice. She examined the trunk with curiousity, wondering what on earth could be inside it, and whether the sound she had heard could possibly have proceeded from it. The sound was repeated, louder, deeper, more rumbling than before. There could be no doubt about it: it did come from the trunk. And, stranger even than that, it sounded remarkably like a snore. In fact, it was a snore - an immense, ear-filling, ground-shaking giant of a snore, but unmistakably a snore. It grew gradually louder, rising and falling in regular waves of sound, and then suddenly it broke off with a choke and a snort, and was followed by a violent pounding on the inside of the trunk. Then an incredibly deep bass voice shouted angrily, "Let me out! Open the door, I say, and let me out!"
At first, Alice was too much astonished to move, but as the pounding and shouting continued she collected her wits and decided that something must be done. The trunk, she saw, was fortunately not locked, but the lid was held down by two clasps, one near the bottom and the other near the top. The bottom clasp she undid without difficulty, but the upper one was quite out of her reach; however, by climbing upon a bench, she managed to reach the upper clasp and unfasten it. As she did so the lid of the trunk flew open and out lurched a huge corpulent and evidently indignant bass viol.
Alice almost fell off the bench in her astonishment, for never before had she seen, or even heard of, a bass viol such as this one. It had legs and arms and a mouth and two very prominent eyes, all of which it proceeded at once to excercise, very much to Alice's alarm. Stalking up to her it glared at her with its round, staring eyes, brandished its fist under her nose and roared at her like an angry bull.
"Now, then!" it bellowed, "what do you mean by it, eh? Shutting me up in there and nearly smothering me to death! What do you mean by it? - that's what I should like to know!"
"Excuse me," Alice stammered, frightened, I - I didn't shut you up; I only - I let you out. You see," she explained, "I only came by the last train, and I didn't know you were in there until I heard you sno - I mean, shouting."
The Bass Viol stopped brandishing its fist and regarded her suspiciously. Then it said, apparently somewhat mollified: "Well, I suppose it was those naughty Ukulele boys - they're always up to mischief. Just wait till I catch them!" Then it added gruffly: "I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure."
"You're quite welcome," said Alice, politely. The Bass Viol's manner was so much less menacing that she was no longer frightened, and her curiousity promptly got the better of her.
"Excuse me," she said, "but would you mind telling me how you came to be in that trunk?"
"It's not a trunk," growled the Bass Viol; "it's a bed - a new one, just sent from the factory. It got in it to see if it fitted, and it was so comfortable that I must have dozed off for a moment. And then I suppose those kids came along and shut me in. Just wait till I lay my hands on 'em - they're a disgrace to the town! I don't see why they're allowed to live in a place like Fiddladelphia."
"Oh!" said Alice, "is this Philadelphia? Why, I've been here before. But somehow it doesn't look quite the same ---"
"I said Fiddladelphia, not Philadelphia," the Bass Viol interrupted. "It's not the same at all. Philadelphia is in Pennsylvania, unless I've forgotten my geography, and Fiddladelphia is the capital of Orchestralia."
"I see," said Alice, rather doubtfully. "I'm afraid I don't remember my geography very well. I think I've heard of Orchestralia - it sounds familiar - but I'm not quite sure. Is it a new country that's just been discovered?"
"No and yes," replied the Bass Viol. "That is, it's not a new country - in fact, it's a very old one - but you've just discovered it; and there are millions of people who have not discovered it yet, though it's much more widely known today than it was a few years ago. By the way, how did you say you got here?"
"I came in a funny sort of train that ran most of the way in a brass tunnel," said Alice. "I think it must have been the Tube."
"You mean the Tuba," the Bass Viol corrected her. "That's the way most of them come."
"Are there any more people here?" Alice inquired. "I mean - regular people - like me?"
"Oh, very likely," replied the Bass Viol. "You're the first one I've seen today, but we have quite a lot of visitors nowadays. I suppose you'd like to look around a bit now that you're here?"
"Oh, I should love to!" Alice exclaimed; "only I'm afraid I might lose my way."
"That's all right," said the Bass Viol, reassuringly. "I'll show you around myself. Come along, we'd better not waste any time."
Its ill-temper had quite disappeared, and it beamed upon Alice with such fatherly benevolence that she did not hesitate to take the hand it held out to her as it led the way out of the station and into the village of Fiddladelphia.
The Bass Viol
Sainte Colombe: The man who added the seventh string to the Bass Viol. The Ukulele
The Viola da Gamba: Forerunner of the Double Bass
The Bass Viol da Gamba: History, pictures, sound bytes.
See a 17th Century Violone
"Play" the Double Bass at Zoellner Arts Center.