"A contraction! something like a lunar stomach-ache," said Michel Ardan.
"Besides," added Barbicane, "this opinion is that of an English savant,
Nasmyth, and it seems to me to sufficiently explain the radiation of
these mountains."
"That Nasmyth was no fool!" replied Michel.
Long did the travellers, whom such a sight could never weary, admire
the splendours of Tycho. Their projectile, saturated with luminous
gleams in the double irradiation of sun and moon, must have appeared
like an incandescent globe. They had passed suddenly from excessive cold
to intense heat. Nature was thus preparing them to become Selenites.
Become Selenites! That idea brought up once more the question of the
habitability of the moon. After what they had seen, could the travellers
solve it? Would they decide for or against it? Michel Ardan persuaded his
two friends to form an opinion, and asked them directly if they thought
that men and animals were represented in the lunar world.
Illustration: A VIOLENT CONTRACTION OF THE LUNAR CRUST.
"I think that we can answer," said Barbicane; "but according to my
idea the question ought not to be put in that form. I ask it to be put
differently."
"Put it your own way," replied Michel.
"Here it is," continued Barbicane. "The problem is a double one, and
requires a double solution. Is the moon -habitable?- Has the moon ever
been -inhabitable?-"
"Good!" replied Nicholl. "First let us see whether the moon is habitable."
"To tell the truth, I know nothing about it," answered Michel.
"And I answer in the negative," continued Barbicane. "In her actual
state, with her surrounding atmosphere certainly very much reduced,
her seas for the most part dried up, her insufficient supply of water
restricted, vegetation, sudden alterations of cold and heat, her days
and nights of 354 hours; the moon does not seem habitable to me, nor does
she seem propitious to animal development, nor sufficient for the wants
of existence as we understand it."
"Agreed," replied Nicholl. "But is not the moon habitable for creatures
differently organized from ourselves?"
"That question is more difficult to answer, but I will try; and I ask
Nicholl if -motion- appears to him to be a necessary result of -life-,
whatever be its organization?"
"Without a doubt!" answered Nicholl.
"Then, my worthy companion, I would answer that we have observed the
lunar continent at a distance of 500 yards at most, and that nothing
seemed to us to move on the moon's surface. The presence of any kind
of life would have been betrayed by its attendant marks, such as divers
buildings, and even by ruins. And what have we seen? Everywhere and always
the geological works of nature, never the work of man. If, then, there
exist representatives of the animal kingdom on the moon, they must have
fled to those unfathomable cavities which the eye cannot reach; which
I cannot admit, for they must have left traces of their passage on those
plains which the atmosphere must cover, however slightly raised it may be.
These traces are nowhere visible. There remains but one hypothesis, that
of a living race to which motion, which is life, is foreign."
"One might as well say, living creatures which do not live," replied
Michel.
"Just so," said Barbicane, "which for us has no meaning."
"Then we may form our opinion?" said Michel.
"Yes," replied Nicholl.
"Very well," continued Michel Ardan, "the Scientific Commission assembled
in the projectile of the Gun Club, after having founded their argument
on facts recently observed, decide unanimously upon the question of the
habitability of the moon---'No!- the moon is not habitable.'"
This decision was consigned by President Barbicane to his notebook, where
the process of the sitting of the 6th of December may be seen.
"Now," said Nicholl, "let us attack the second question, an indispensable
complement of the first. I ask the honourable Commission, if the moon is
not habitable, has she ever been inhabited, Citizen Barbicane?"
"My friends," replied Barbicane, "I did not undertake this journey in
order to form an opinion on the past habitability of our satellite; but I
will add that our personal observations only confirm me in this opinion.
I believe, indeed I affirm, that the moon has been inhabited by a human
race organized like our own; that she has produced animals anatomically
formed like the terrestrial animals; but I add that these races, human
or animal, have had their day, and are now for ever extinct!"
"Then," asked Michel, "the moon must be older than the earth?"
"No!" said Barbicane decidedly, "but a world which has grown old quicker,
and whose formation and deformation have been more rapid. Relatively,
the organizing force of matter has been much more violent in the interior
of the moon than in the interior of the terrestrial globe. The actual
state of this cracked twisted, and burst disc abundantly proves this.
The moon and the earth were nothing but gaseous masses originally. These
gases have passed into a liquid state under different influences, and
the solid masses have been formed later. But most certainly our sphere
was still gaseous or liquid, when the moon was solidified by cooling,
and had become habitable."
"I believe it," said Nicholl.
"Then," continued Barbicane, "an atmosphere surrounded it, the waters
contained within this gaseous envelope could not evaporate. Under the
influence of air, water, light, solar heat, and central heat, vegetation
took possession of the continents prepared to receive it, and certainly
life showed itself about this period, for nature does not expend herself
in vain; and a world so wonderfully formed for habitation must necessarily
be inhabited.
"But," said Nicholl, "many phenomena inherent in our satellite might
cramp the expansion of the animal and vegetable kingdom. For example,
its days and nights of 354 hours?"
"At the terrestrial poles they last six months," said Michel.
"An argument of little value, since the poles are not inhabited."
"Let us observe, my friends," continued Barbicane, "that if in the actual
state of the moon its long nights and long days created differences
of temperature insupportable to organization, it was not so at the
historical period of time. The atmosphere enveloped the disc with a
fluid mantle; vapour deposited itself in the shape of clouds; this
natural screen tempered the ardour of the solar rays, and retained the
nocturnal radiation. Light, like heat, can diffuse itself in the air;
hence an equality between the influences which no longer exists, now that
that atmosphere has almost entirely disappeared. And now I am going to
astonish you."
"Astonish us?" said Michel Ardan.
"I firmly believe that at the period when the moon was inhabited, the
nights and days did not last 354 hours!"
"And why?" asked Nicholl quickly.
"Because most probably then the rotary motion of the moon upon her axis
was not equal to her revolution, an equality which presents each part of
her disc during fifteen days to the action of the solar rays."
"Granted," replied Nicholl, "but why should not these two motions have
been equal, as they are really so?"
"Because that equality has only been determined by terrestrial attraction.
And who can say that this attraction was powerful enough to alter the
motion of the moon at that period when the earth was still fluid?"
"Just so," replied Nicholl; "and who can say that the moon has always
been a satellite of the earth?"
"And who can say," exclaimed Michel Ardan, "that the moon did not exist
before the earth?"
Their imaginations carried them away into an indefinite field of
hypothesis. Barbicane sought to restrain them.
"Those speculations are too high," said he; "problems utterly insoluble.
Do not let us enter upon them. Let us only admit the insufficiency of the
primordial attraction; and then by the inequality of the two motions of
rotation and revolution, the days and nights could have succeeded each
other on the moon as they succeed each other on the earth. Besides, even
without these conditions, life was possible."
"And so," asked Michel Ardan, "humanity has disappeared from the moon?"
"Yes," replied Barbicane, "after having doubtless remained persistently
for millions of centuries; by degrees the atmosphere becoming rarefied,
the disc became uninhabitable, as the terrestrial globe will one day
become by cooling."
"By cooling?"
"Certainly," replied Barbicane; "as the internal fires became extinguished,
and the incandescent matter concentrated itself, the lunar crust cooled.
By degrees the consequences of these phenomena showed themselves in the
disappearance of organized beings, and by the disappearance of vegetation.
Soon the atmosphere was rarefied, probably withdrawn by terrestrial
attraction; then aerial departure of respirable air, and disappearance
of water by means of evaporation. At this period the moon becoming
uninhabitable, was no longer inhabited. It was a dead world, such as we
see it to-day."
"And you say that the same fate is in store for the earth?"
"Most probably."
"But when?"
"When the cooling of its crust shall have made it uninhabitable."
"And have they calculated the time which our unfortunate sphere will take
to cool?"
"Certainly."
"And you know these calculations?"
"Perfectly."
"But speak, then, my clumsy savant," exclaimed Michel Ardan, "for you
make me boil with impatience!"
"Very well, my good Michel," replied Barbicane quietly, "we know what
diminution of temperature the earth undergoes in the lapse of a century.
And according to certain calculations, this mean temperature will, after
a period of 400,000 years, be brought down to zero!"
"Four hundred thousand years!" exclaimed Michel. "Ah! I breathe again.
Really I was frightened to hear you; I imagined that we had not more than
50,000 years to live."
Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at their companion's
uneasiness. Then Nicholl, who wished to end the discussion, put the
second question, which had just been considered again.
"Has the moon been inhabited?" he asked.
The answer was unanimously in the affirmative. But during this discussion,
fruitful in somewhat hazardous theories, the projectile was rapidly
leaving the moon; the lineaments faded away from the travellers' eyes,
mountains were confused in the distance; and of all the wonderful,
strange, and fantastical form of the earth's satellite, there soon
remained nothing but the imperishable remembrance.
CHAPTER XIX.
A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE.
For a long time Barbicane and his companions looked silently and sadly
upon that world which they had only seen from a distance, as Moses saw
the land of Canaan, and which they were leaving without a possibility of
ever returning to it. The projectile's position with regard to the moon
had altered, and the base was now turned to the earth.
This change, which Barbicane verified, did not fail to surprise them.
If the projectile was to gravitate round the satellite in an elliptical
orbit, why was not its heaviest part turned towards it, as the moon turns
hers to the earth? That was a difficult point.
In watching the course of the projectile they could see that on leaving
the moon it followed a course analogous to that traced in approaching
her. It was describing a very long ellipse, which would most likely
extend to the point of equal attraction, where the influences of the
earth and its satellite are neutralized.
Such was the conclusion which Barbicane very justly drew from facts
already observed, a conviction which his two friends shared with him.
"And when arrived at this dead point, what will become of us?" asked
Michel Ardan.
"We don't know," replied Barbicane.
"But one can draw some hypotheses, I suppose?"
"Two," answered Barbicane; "either the projectile's speed will be
insufficient, and it will remain for immovable on this line of double
attraction--"
"I prefer the other hypothesis, whatever it may be," interrupted Michel.
"Or," continued Barbicane, "its speed will be sufficient, and it will
continue its elliptical course, to gravitate for ever around the orb of
night."
"A revolution not at all consoling," said Michel, "to pass to the state
of humble servants to a moon whom we are accustomed to look upon as our
own handmaid. So that is the fate in store for us?"
Neither Barbicane nor Nicholl answered.
"You do not answer," continued Michel impatiently.
"There is nothing to answer," said Nicholl.
"Is there nothing to try?"
"No," answered Barbicane. "Do you pretend to fight against the impossible?"
"Why not? Do one Frenchman and two Americans shrink from such a word?"
"But what would you do?"
"Subdue this motion which is bearing us away."
"Subdue it?"
"Yes," continued Michel, getting animated, "or else alter it, and employ
it to the accomplishment of our own ends."
"And how?"
"That is your affair. If artillerymen are not masters of their projectile
they are not artillerymen. If the projectile is to command the gunner,
we had better ram the gunner into the gun. My faith! fine savants! who
do not know what is to become of us after inducing me--"
"Inducing you!" cried Barbicane and Nicholl. "Inducing you! What do you
mean by that?"
"No recrimination," said Michel. "I do not complain; the trip has pleased
me, the projectile agrees with me; but let us do all that is humanly
possible to do to fall somewhere, even if only on the moon."
Illustration: AROUND THE PROJECTILE WERE THE OBJECTS WHICH
HAD BEEN THROWN OUT.
"We ask no better, my worthy Michel," replied Barbicane, "but means fail
us."
"We cannot alter the motion of the projectile?"
"No."
"Nor diminish its speed?"
"No."
"Not even by lightening it, as they lighten an overloaded vessel?"
"What would you throw out?" said Nicholl. "We have no ballast on board;
and indeed it seems to me that if lightened it would go much quicker."
"Slower."
"Quicker."
"Neither slower nor quicker," said Barbicane, wishing to make his two
friends agree; "for we float in space, and must no longer consider
specific weight."
"Very well," cried Michel Ardan in a decided voice; "then there remains
but one thing to do."
"What is it?" said Nicholl.
"Breakfast," answered the cool, audacious Frenchman, who always brought
up this solution at the most difficult juncture.
In any case, if this operation had no influence on the projectile's
course, it could at least be tried without inconvenience, and even with
success from a stomachic point of view. Certainly Michel had none but
good ideas.
They breakfasted then at two in the morning; the hour mattered little.
Michel served his usual repast, crowned by a glorious bottle drawn from
his private cellar. If ideas did not crowd on their brains, we must
despair of the Chambertin of 1853. The repast finished, observations
began again. Around the projectile, at an invariable distance, were
the objects which had been thrown out. Evidently, in its translatory
motion round the moon, it had not passed through any atmosphere, for
the specific weight of these different objects would have checked their
relative speed.
On the side of the terrestrial sphere nothing was to be seen. The earth
was but a day old, having been new the night before at twelve; and two
days must elapse before its crescent, freed from the solar rays, would
serve as a clock to the Selenites, as in its rotary movement each of its
points after twenty-four hours repasses the same lunar meridian.
On the moon's side the sight was different; the orb shone in all her
splendour amidst innumerable constellations, whose purity could not be
troubled by her rays. On the disc, the plains were already returning to
the dark tint which is seen from the earth. The other part of the nimbus
remained brilliant, and in the midst of this general brilliancy Tycho
shone prominently like a sun.
Barbicane had no means of estimating the projectile's speed, but
reasoning showed that it must uniformly decrease, according to the laws of
mechanical reasoning. Having admitted that the projectile was describing
an orbit round the moon, this orbit must necessarily be elliptical;
science proves that it must be so. No motive body circulating round an
attracting body fails in this law. Every orbit described in space is
elliptical. And why should the projectile of the Gun Club escape this
natural arrangement? In elliptical orbits, the attracting body always
occupies one of the foci; so that at one moment the satellite is nearer,
and at another farther from the orb around which it gravitates. When the
earth is nearest the sun she is in her perihelion; and in her aphelion
at the farthest point. Speaking of the moon, she is nearest to the earth
in her perigee, and farthest from it in her apogee. To use analogous
expressions, with which the astronomers' language is enriched, if the
projectile remains as a satellite of the moon, we must say that it is
in its "aposelene" at its farthest point, and in its "periselene" at its
nearest. In the latter case, the projectile would attain its maximum of
speed; and in the former its minimum. It was evidently moving towards
its aposelenitical point; and Barbicane had reason to think that its
speed would decrease up to this point, and then increase by degrees as
it neared the moon. This speed would even become -nil-, if this point
joined that of equal attraction. Barbicane studied the consequences of
these different situations, and thinking what inference he could draw
from them, when he was roughly disturbed by a cry from Michel Ardan.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I must admit we are downright simpletons!"
"I do not say we are not," replied Barbicane; "but why?"
"Because we have a very simple means of checking this speed which is
bearing us from the moon, and we do not use it!"
"And what is the means?"
"To use the recoil contained in our rockets."
"Done!" said Nicholl.
"We have not used this force yet," said Barbicane, "it is true, but we
will do so."
"When?" asked Michel.
"When the time comes. Observe, my friends, that in the position occupied
by the projectile, an oblique position with regard to the lunar disc,
our rockets, in slightly altering its direction, might turn it from the
moon instead of drawing it nearer?"
"Just so," replied Michel.
"Let us wait, then. By some inexplicable influence, the projectile is
turning its base towards the earth. It is probable that at the point
of equal attraction, its conical cap will be directed rigidly towards
the moon; at that moment we may hope that its speed will be -nil-; then
will be the moment to act, and with the influence of our rockets we may
perhaps provoke a fall directly on the surface of the lunar disc."
"Bravo!" said Michel. "What we did not do, what we could not do on our
first passage at the dead point, because the projectile was then endowed
with too great a speed."
"Very well reasoned," said Nicholl.
"Let us wait patiently," continued Barbicane. "Putting every chance on
our side, and after having so much despaired, I may say I think that we
shall gain our end."
This conclusion was a signal for Michel Ardan's hips and hurrahs. And
none of the audacious boobies remembered the question that they themselves
had solved in the negative. No! the moon is not inhabited; no! the moon
is probably not habitable. And yet they were going to try every thing to
reach her.
One single question remained to be solved. At what precise moment the
projectile would reach the point of equal attraction, on which the
travellers must play their last card. In order to calculate this to
within a few seconds, Barbicane had only to refer to his notes, and
to reckon the different heights taken on the lunar parallels. Thus the
time necessary to travel over the distance between the dead point and
the south pole would be equal to the distance separating the north pole
from the dead point. The hours representing the time travelled over
were carefully noted, and the calculation was easy. Barbicane found that
this point would be reached at one in the morning on the night of the
7th--8th of December. So that, if nothing interfered with its course,
it would reach the given point in twenty-two hours.
The rockets had primarily been placed to check the fall of the projectile
upon the moon, and now they were going to employ them for a directly
contrary purpose. In any case they were ready, and they had only to wait
for the moment to set fire to them.
"Since there is nothing else to be done," said Nicholl, "I make a
proposition."
"What is it?" asked Barbicane.
"I propose to go to sleep."
"What a motion!" exclaimed Michel Ardan.
"It is forty hours since we closed our eyes," said Nicholl. "Some hours
of sleep will restore our strength."
Illustration: "THESE PRACTICAL PEOPLE HAVE SOMETIMES MOST
OPPORTUNE IDEAS."
"Never," interrupted Michel.
"Well," continued Nicholl, "every one to his taste; I shall go to sleep."
And stretching himself on the divan, he soon snored like a forty-eight
pounder.
"That Nicholl has a good deal of sense," said Barbicane, "presently I
shall follow his example." Some moments after his continued base supported
the captain's barytone.
"Certainly," said Michel Ardan, finding himself alone, "these practical
people have sometimes most opportune ideas."
And with his long legs stretched out, and his great arms folded under
his head, Michel slept in his turn.
But this sleep could be neither peaceful nor lasting, the minds of these
three men were too much occupied, and some hours after, about seven in
the morning, all three were on foot at the same instant.
The projectile was still leaving the moon, and turning its conical part
more and more towards her.
An explicable phenomenon, but one which happily served Barbicane's ends.
Seventeen hours more, and the moment for action would have arrived.
The day seemed long. However bold the travellers might be, they were
greatly impressed by the approach of that moment which would decide
all--either precipitate their fall on to the moon, or for ever chain
them in an immutable orbit. They counted the hours as they passed too
slow for their wish; Barbicane and Nicholl were obstinately plunged in
their calculations, Michel going and coming between the narrow walls,
and watching that impassive moon with a longing eye.
At times recollections of the earth crossed their minds. They saw once
more their friends of the Gun Club, and the dearest of all, J. T. Maston.
At that moment, the honourable secretary must be filling his post on
the Rocky Mountains. If he could see the projectile through the glass of
his gigantic telescope, what would he think? After seeing it disappear
behind the moon's south pole, he would see them reappear by the north
pole! They must therefore be a satellite of a satellite! Had J. T. Maston
given this unexpected news to the world? Was this the dénouement of this
great enterprise?
But the day passed without incident. The terrestrial midnight arrived.
The 8th of December was beginning. One hour more, and the point of equal
attraction would be reached. What speed would then animate the projectile?
They could not estimate it. But no error could vitiate Barbicane's
calculations. At one in the morning this speed ought to be and would be
-nil.-
Besides, another phenomenon would mark the projectile's stopping-point on
the neutral line. At that spot the two attractions, lunar and terrestrial,
would be annulled. Objects would "weigh" no more. This singular fact,
which had surprised Barbicane and his companions so much in going, would
be repeated on their return under the very same conditions. At this
precise moment they must act.
Already the projectile's conical top was sensibly turned towards the
lunar disc, presented in such a way as to utilize the whole of the recoil
produced by the pressure of the rocket apparatus. The chances were in
favour of the travellers. If its speed was utterly annulled on this dead
point, a decided movement towards the moon would suffice, however slight,
to determine its fall.
"Five minutes to one," said Nicholl.
"All is ready," replied Michel Ardan, directing a lighted match to the
flame of the gas.
"Wait!" said Barbicane, holding his chronometer in his hand.
At that moment weight had no effect. The travellers felt in themselves
the entire disappearance of it. They were very near the neutral point,
if they did not touch it.
"One o'clock," said Barbicane.
Michel Ardan applied the lighted match to a train in communication with
the rockets. No detonation was heard in the inside, for there was no air.
But, through the scuttles Barbicane saw a prolonged smoke, the flames of
which were immediately extinguished.
Illustration: ARDEN APPLIED THE LIGHTED MATCH.
The projectile sustained a certain shock, which was sensibly felt in the
interior.
The three friends looked and listened without speaking, and scarcely
breathing. One might have heard the beating of their hearts amidst this
perfect silence.
"Are we falling?" asked Michel Ardan, at length.
"No," said Nicholl, "since the bottom of the projectile is not turning
to the lunar disc!"
At this moment, Barbicane, quitting the scuttle, turned to his two
companions. He was frightfully pale, his forehead wrinkled, and his lips
contracted.
"We are falling!" said he.
"Ah!" cried Michel Ardan, "on to the moon?"
"On to the earth!"
"The devil!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, adding philosophically, "well, when
we came into this projectile we were very doubtful as to the ease with
which we should get out of it!"
And now this fearful fall had begun. The speed retained had borne the
projectile beyond the dead point. The explosion of the rockets could not
divert its course. This speed in going had carried it over the neutral
line, and in returning had done the same thing. The laws of physics
condemned -it to pass through every point which it had already gone
through-. It was a terrible fall, from a height of 160,000 miles, and no
springs to break it. According to the laws of gunnery, the projectile
must strike the earth with a speed equal to that with which it left the
mouth of the Columbiad, a speed of 16,000 yards in the last second.
But to give some figures of comparison, it has been reckoned that an
object thrown from the top of the towers of Notre Dame, the height of
which is only 200 feet, will arrive on the pavement at a speed of 240
miles per hour. Here the projectile must strike the earth with a speed
of 115,200 miles per hour.
"We are lost!" said Michel coolly.
"Very well! if we die," answered Barbicane, with a sort of religious
enthusiasm, "the result of our travels will be magnificently spread.
It is His own secret that God will tell us! In the other life the soul
will want to know nothing, either of machines or engines! It will be
identified with eternal wisdom!"
"In fact," interrupted Michel Ardan, "the whole of the other world may
well console us for the loss of that inferior orb called the moon!"
Barbicane crossed his arms on his breast, with a motion of sublime
resignation, saying at the same time,--
"The will of heaven be done!"
CHAPTER XX.
THE SOUNDINGS OF THE "SUSQUEHANNA."
"Well, lieutenant, and our soundings?"
"I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its completion," replied
Lieutenant Bronsfield. "But who would have thought of finding such a
depth so near in shore, and only 200 miles from the American coast?"
"Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great depression," said Captain
Blomsberry. "In this spot there is a submarine valley worn by Humboldt's
current, which skirts the coast of America as far as the Straits of
Magellan."
"These great depths," continued the lieutenant, "are not favourable for
laying telegraphic cables. A level bottom, like that supporting the
American cable between Valentia and Newfoundland, is much better."
"I agree with you, Bronsfield. With your permission, lieutenant, where
are we now?"
"Sir, at this moment we have 3508 fathoms of line out, and the ball which
draws the sounding lead has not yet touched the bottom; for if so, it
would have come up of itself."
"Brook's apparatus is very ingenious," said Captain Blomsberry; "it gives
us very exact soundings."
"Touch!" cried at this moment one of the men at the fore-wheel, who was
superintending the operation.
The captain and the lieutenant mounted the quarter-deck. "What depth have
we?" asked the captain.
"Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fathoms," replied the
lieutenant, entering it in his note-book.
"Well, Bronsfield," said the captain, "I will take down the result. Now
haul in the sounding line. It will be the work of some hours. In that time
the engineer can light the furnaces, and we shall be ready to start as
soon as you have finished. It is ten o'clock, and with your permission,
lieutenant, I will turn in."
"Do so, sir; do so!" replied the lieutenant obligingly.
The captain of the "Susquehanna," as brave a man as need be, and the
humble servant of his officers, returned to his cabin, took a brandy-grog,
which earned for the steward no end of praise, and turned in, not without
having complimented his servant upon his making beds, and slept a peaceful
sleep.
It was then ten at night. The eleventh day of the month of December was
drawing to a close in a magnificent night.
The "Susquehanna," a corvette of 500 horse-power, of the United States'
navy, was occupied in taking soundings in the Pacific Ocean about
200 miles off the American coast, following that long peninsula which
stretches down the coast of New Mexico.
The wind had dropped by degrees. There was no disturbance in the air.
Their pennant hung motionless from the maintop-gallant-mast truck.
Captain Jonathan Blomsberry (cousin-german of Colonel Blomsberry, one of
the most ardent supporters of the Gun Club, who had married an aunt of
the captain and daughter of an honourable Kentucky merchant,)--Captain
Blomsberry could not have wished for finer weather in which to bring to
a close his delicate operations of sounding. His corvette had not even
felt the great tempest, which by sweeping away the groups of clouds on
the Rocky Mountains, had allowed them to observe the course of the famous
projectile.
Everything went well, and with all the fervour of a Presbyterian, he did
not forget to thank heaven for it. The series of soundings taken by the
"Susquehanna," had for its aim the finding of a favourable spot for the
laying of a submarine cable to connect the Hawaiian Islands with the
coast of America.
Illustration: "I FANCY I SEE THEM."
It was a great undertaking, due to the instigation of a powerful company.
Its managing director, the intelligent Cyrus Field, purposed even covering
all the islands of Oceania with a vast electrical network, an immense
enterprise, and one worthy of American genius.
To the corvette Susquehanna had been confided the first operations of
sounding. It was on the night of the 11th--12th of December, she was in
exactly 27° 7' north lat., and 41° 37' west long., on the meridian of
Washington.
The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to rise above the
horizon.
After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieutenant and some
officers were standing together on the poop. On the appearance of
the moon, their thoughts turned to that orb which the eyes of a whole
hemisphere were contemplating. The best naval glasses could not have
discovered the projectile wandering around its hemisphere, and yet all
were pointed towards that brilliant disc which millions of eyes were
looking at at the same moment.
"They have been gone ten days," said Lieutenant Bronsfield at last. "What
has become of them?"
"They have arrived, lieutenant," exclaimed a young midshipman, "and
they are doing what all travellers do when they arrive in a new country,
taking a walk!"
"Oh! I am sure of that, if you tell me so, my young friend," said
Lieutenant Bronsfield, smiling.
"But," continued another officer, "their arrival cannot be doubted.
The projectile was to reach the moon when full on the 5th at midnight.
We are now at the 11th of December, which makes six days. And in six
times twenty-four hours, without darkness, one would have time to settle
comfortably. I fancy I see my brave countrymen encamped at the bottom of
some valley, on the borders of a Selenite stream, near a projectile half
buried by its fall amidst volcanic rubbish, Captain Nicholl beginning
his levelling operations, President Barbicane writing out his notes, and
Michel Ardan embalming the lunar solitudes with the perfume of his--"
"Yes! it must be so, it is so!" exclaimed the young midshipman, worked
up to a pitch of enthusiasm by this ideal description of his superior
officer.
"I should like to believe it," replied the lieutenant, who was quite
unmoved. "Unfortunately direct news from the lunar world is still
wanting."
"Beg pardon, lieutenant," said the midshipman, "but cannot President
Barbicane write?"
A burst of laughter greeted this answer.
"No letters!" continued the young man quickly. "The postal administration
has something to see to there."
"Might it not be the telegraphic service that is at fault?" asked one of
the officers ironically.
"Not necessarily," replied the midshipman, not at all confused. "But it
is very easy to set up a graphic communication with the earth."
"And how?"
"By means of the telescope at Long's Peak. You know it brings the moon
to within four miles of the Rocky Mountains, and that it shows objects on
its surface of only nine feet in diameter. Very well; let our industrious
friends construct a gigantic alphabet; let them write words three fathoms
long, and sentences three miles long, and then they can send us news of
themselves?"
The young midshipman, who had a certain amount of imagination, was loudly
applauded; Lieutenant Bronsfield allowing that the idea was possible,
but observing that if by these means they could -receive- news from the
lunar world they could not send any from the terrestrial, unless the
Selenites had instruments fit for taking distant observations at their
disposal.
"Evidently," said one of the officers; "but what has become of the
travellers? what they have done, what they have seen, that above all
must interest us. Besides, if the experiment has succeeded (which I do
not doubt), they will try it again. The Columbiad is still sunk in the
soil of Florida. It is now only a question of powder and shot; and every
time the moon is at her zenith a cargo of visitors may be sent to her."
"It is clear," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that J. T. Maston will
one day join his friends."
"If he will have me," cried the midshipman, "I am ready!"
"Oh! volunteers will not be wanting," answered Bronsfield; "and if it
were allowed, half of the earth's inhabitants would emigrate to the
moon!"
This conversation between the officers of the Susquehanna was kept up
until nearly one in the morning. We cannot say what blundering systems
were broached, what inconsistent theories advanced by these bold spirits.
Since Barbicane's attempt, nothing seemed impossible to the Americans.
They had already designed an expedition, not only of savants, but of a
whole colony towards the Selenite borders, and a complete army, consisting
of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, to conquer the lunar world.
At one in the morning, the hauling in of the sounding-line was not yet
completed; 1670 fathoms were still out, which would entail some hours'
work. According to the commander's orders, the fires had been lighted,
and steam was being got up. The Susquehanna could have started that very
instant.
At that moment (it was seventeen minutes past one in the morning)
Lieutenant Bronsfield was preparing to leave the watch and return to his
cabin, when his attention was attracted by a distant hissing noise. His
comrades and himself first thought that this hissing was caused by the
letting off of steam; but lifting their heads, they found that the noise
was produced in the highest regions of the air. They had not time to
question each other before the hissing became frightfully intense, and
suddenly there appeared to their dazzled eyes an enormous meteor, ignited
by the rapidity of its course and its friction through the atmospheric
strata.
This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes, and fell, with the noise
of thunder, upon the bowsprit, which it smashed close to the stem, and
buried itself in the waves with a deafening roar!
A few feet nearer, and the Susquehanna would have foundered with all on
board!
At this instant Captain Blomsberry appeared, half dressed, and rushing on
to the forecastle-deck, whither all the officers had hurried, exclaimed,
"With your permission, gentlemen, what has happened?"
And the midshipman, making himself as it were the echo of the body,
cried, "Commander, it is 'they' come back again!"
Illustration: A FEW FEET NEARER.
CHAPTER XXI.
J. T. MASTON RECALLED.
"It is 'they' come back again!" the young midshipman had said; and
every one had understood him. No one doubted but that that meteor was
the projectile of the Gun Club. As to the travellers which it enclosed,
opinions were divided regarding their fate.
"They are dead!" said one.
"They are alive!" said another; "the crater is deep, and the shock was
deadened."
"But they must have wanted air," continued a third speaker; "they must
have died of suffocation."
"Burnt!" replied a fourth; "the projectile was nothing but an incandescent
mass as it crossed the atmosphere."
"What does it matter!" they exclaimed unanimously; "living or dead, we
must pull them out!"
But Captain Blomsberry had assembled his officers, and "with their
permission," was holding a council. They must decide upon something
to be done immediately. The more hasty ones were for fishing up the
projectile. A difficult operation, though not an impossible one. But the
corvette had no proper machinery, which must be both fixed and powerful;
so it was resolved that they should put in at the nearest port, and give
information to the Gun Club of the projectile's fall.
This determination was unanimous. The choice of the port had to be
discussed. The neighbouring coast had no anchorage on 27° lat. Higher
up, above the peninsula of Monterey, stands the important town from which
it takes its name; but, seated on the borders of a perfect desert, it
was not connected with the interior by a network of telegraphic wires,
and electricity alone could spread these important news fast enough.
Some degrees above opened the bay of San Francisco. Through the capital
of the gold country communication would be easy with the heart of the
Union. And in less than two days the "Susquehanna," by putting on high
pressure, could arrive in that port. She must therefore start at once.
The fires were made up; they could set off immediately. Two thousand
fathoms of line were still out, which Captain Blomsberry, not wishing to
lose precious time in hauling in, resolved to cut.
"We will fasten the end to a buoy," said he, "and that buoy will show us
the exact spot where the projectile fell."
"Besides," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "we have our situation
exact--27° 7' north lat. and 41° 37' west long."
"Well, Mr. Bronsfield," replied the captain, "now, with your permission,
we will have the line cut."
A strong buoy, strengthened by a couple of spars, was thrown into the
ocean. The end of the rope was carefully lashed to it; and, left solely
to the rise and fall of the billows, the buoy would not sensibly deviate
from the spot.
At this moment the engineer sent to inform the captain that steam was
up and they could start, for which agreeable communication the captain
thanked him. The course was then given north-north-east, and the corvette,
wearing, steered at full steam direct for San Francisco. It was three in
the morning.
Four hundred and fifty miles to cross; it was nothing for a good vessel
like the "Susquehanna." In thirty-six hours she had covered that distance;
and on the 14th of December, at twenty-seven minutes past one at night,
she entered the bay of San Francisco.
At the sight of a ship of the national navy arriving at full speed, with
her bowsprit broken, public curiosity was greatly roused. A dense crowd
soon assembled on the quay, waiting for them to disembark.
After casting anchor, Captain Blomsberry and Lieutenant Bronsfield
entered an eight-oared cutter, which soon brought them to land.
They jumped on to the quay.
"The telegraph?" they asked, without answering one of the thousand
questions addressed to them.
The officer of the port conducted them to the telegraph-office through
a concourse of spectators. Blomsberry and Bronsfield entered, while the
crowd crushed each other at the door.
Some minutes later a fourfold telegram was sent out--the first to the
Naval Secretary at Washington; the second to the Vice-President of the Gun
Club, Baltimore; the third to the Hon. J. T. Maston, Long's Peak, Rocky
Mountains; the fourth to the Sub-Director of the Cambridge Observatory,
Massachusetts.
It was worded as follows:--
"In 20° 7' north lat., and 41° 37' west long., on the 12th of December,
at 17 past one in the morning, the projectile of the Columbiad fell
into the Pacific. Send instructions.--Blomsberry, Commander
'Susquehanna.'"
Five minutes afterwards the whole town of San Francisco learned the news.
Before six in the evening the different States of the Union had heard
the great catastrophe; and after midnight, by the cable, the whole of
Europe knew the result of the great American experiment.
We will not attempt to picture the effect produced on the entire world
by that unexpected denouement.
On receipt of the telegram the Naval Secretary telegraphed to the
Susquehanna to wait in the bay of San Francisco without extinguishing
her fires. Day and night she must be ready to put to sea.
The Cambridge Observatory called a special meeting; and, with that
composure which distinguishes learned bodies in general, peacefully
discussed the scientific bearings of the question. At the Gun Club there
was an explosion. All the gunners were assembled. Vice-President the
Hon. Wilcome was in the act of reading the premature despatch, in which
J. T. Maston and Belfast announced that the projectile had just been
seen in the gigantic reflector of Long's Peak, and also that it was held
by lunar attraction, and was playing the part of under satellite to the
lunar world.
We know the truth on that point.
But on the arrival of Blomsberry's despatch, so decidedly contradicting
J. T. Maston's telegram, two parties were formed in the bosom of the Gun
Club. On one side were those who admitted the fall of the projectile, and
consequently the return of the travellers; on the other, those who believed
in the observations of Long's Peak, concluded that the commander of the
Susquehanna had made a mistake. To the latter the pretended projectile
was nothing but a meteor! nothing but a meteor, a shooting globe, which
in its fall had smashed the bows of the corvette. It was difficult to
answer this argument, for the speed with which it was animated must have
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