Street and its neighborhood with their tumult. Several times had the
inhabitants complained of the noisy way in which the proceedings
ended, and more than once had the policemen had to interfere to clear
the thoroughfare for the passersby, who for the most part were
supremely indifferent on the question of aerial navigation. But never
before had the tumult attained such proportions, never had the
complaints been better founded, never had the intervention of the
police been more necessary.
But there was some excuse for the members of the Weldon Institute.
They had been attacked in their own house. To these enthusiasts for
"lighter than air" a no less enthusiast for "heavier than air" had
said things absolutely abhorrent. And at the moment they were about
to treat him as he deserved, he had disappeared.
So they cried aloud for vengeance. To leave such insults unpunished
was impossible to all with American blood in their veins. Had not the
sons of Amerigo been called the sons of Cabot? Was not that an insult
as unpardonable as it happened to be just--historically?
The members of the club in several groups rushed down Walnut Street,
then into the adjoining streets, and then all over the neighborhood.
They woke up the householders; they compelled them to search their
houses, prepared to indemnify them later on for the outrage on their
privacy. Vain were all their trouble and searching. Robur was nowhere
to be found; there was no trace of him. He might have gone off in the
"Go-Ahead," the balloon of the Institute, for all they could tell.
After an hour's hunt the members had to give in and separate, not
before they had agreed to extend their search over the whole
territory of the twin Americas that form the new continent.
By eleven o'clock quiet had been restored in the neighborhood of
Walnut Street. Philadelphia was able to sink again into that sound
sleep which is the privilege of non-manufacturing towns. The
different members of the club parted to seek their respective houses.
To mention the most distinguished amongst them, William T. Forbes
sought his large sugar establishment, where Miss Doll and Miss Mat
had prepared for him his evening tea, sweetened with his own glucose.
Truck Milnor took the road to his factory in the distant suburb,
where the engines worked day and night. Treasurer Jim Chip, publicly
accused of possessing an alimentary canal twelve inches longer than
that of other men, returned to the vegetable soup that was waiting
for him.
Two of the most important balloonists--two only--did not seem to
think of returning so soon to their domicile. They availed themselves
of the opportunity to discuss the question with more than usual
acrimony. These were the irreconcilables, Uncle Prudent and Phil
Evans, the president and secretary of the Weldon Institute.
At the door of the club the valet Frycollin waited for Uncle Prudent,
his master, and at last he went after him, though he cared but little
for the subject which had set the two colleagues at loggerheads.
It is only an euphemism that the verb "discuss" can be used to
express the way in which the duet between the president and secretary
was being performed. As a matter of fact they were in full wrangle
with an energy born of their old rivalry.
"No, Sir, no," said Phil Evans. "If I had had the honor of being
president of the Weldon Institute, there never, no, never, would have
been such a scandal."
"And what would you have done, if you had had the honor?" demanded
Uncle Prudent.
"I would have stopped the insulter before he had opened his mouth."
"It seems to me it would have been impossible to stop him until he
had opened his mouth," replied Uncle Prudent.
"Not in America, Sir; not in America."
And exchanging such observations, increasing in bitterness as they
went, they walked on through the streets farther and farther from
their homes, until they reached a part of the city whence they had to
go a long way round to get back.
Frycollin followed, by no means at ease to see his master plunging
into such deserted spots. He did not like deserted spots,
particularly after midnight. In fact the darkness was profound, and
the moon was only a thin crescent just beginning its monthly life.
Frycollin kept a lookout to the left and right of him to see if he
was followed. And he fancied he could see five or six hulking follows
dogging his footsteps. Instinctively he drew nearer to his master,
but not for the world would he have dared to break in on the
conversation of which the fragments reached him.
In short it so chanced that the president and secretary of the Weldon
Institute found themselves on the road to Fairmount Park. In the full
heat of their dispute they crossed the Schuyllkill river by the
famous iron bridge. They met only a few belated wayfarers, and
pressed on across a wide open tract where the immense prairie was
broken every now and then by the patches of thick woodland--which
make the park different to any other in the world.
There Frycollin's terror became acute, particularly as he saw the
five or six shadows gliding after him across the Schuyllkill bridge.
The pupils of his eyes broadened out to the circumference of his
iris, and his limbs seemed to diminish as if endowed with the
contractility peculiar to the mollusca and certain of the articulate;
for Frycollin, the valet, was an egregious coward.
He was a pure South Carolina Negro, with the head of a fool and the
carcass of an imbecile. Being only one and twenty, he had never been
a slave, not even by birth, but that made no difference to him.
Grinning and greedy and idle, and a magnificent poltroon, he had been
the servant of Uncle Prudent for about three years. Over and over
again had his master threatened to kick him out, but had kept him on
for fear of doing worse. With a master ever ready to venture on the
most audacious enterprises, Frycollin's cowardice had brought him
many arduous trials. But he had some compensation. Very little had
been said about his gluttony, and still less about his laziness.
Ah, Valet Frycollin, if you could only have read the future! Why, oh
why, Frycollin, did you not remain at Boston with the Sneffels, and
not have given them up when they talked of going to Switzerland? Was
not that a much more suitable place for you than this of Uncle
Prudent's, where danger was daily welcomed?
But here he was, and his master had become used to his faults. He had
one advantage, and that was a consideration. Although he was a Negro
by birth he did not speak like a Negro, and nothing is so irritating
as that hateful jargon in which all the pronouns are possessive and
all the verbs infinitive. Let it be understood, then, that Frycollin
was a thorough coward.
And now it was midnight, and the pale crescent of the moon began to
sink in the west behind the trees in the park. The rays streaming
fitfully through the branches made the shadows darker than ever.
Frycollin looked around him anxiously. "Brrr!" he said, "There are
those fellows there all the time. Positively they are getting nearer!
Master Uncle!" he shouted.
It was thus he called the president of the Weldon Institute, and thus
did the president desire to be called.
At the moment the dispute of the rivals had reached its maximum, and
as they hurled their epithets at each other they walked faster and
faster, and drew farther and farther away from the Schuyllkill
bridge. They had reached the center of a wide clump of trees, whose
summits were just tipped by the parting rays of the moon. Beyond the
trees was a very large clearing--an oval field, a complete
amphitheater. Not a hillock was there to hinder the gallop of the
horses, not a bush to stop the view of the spectators.
And if Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans had not been so deep in their
dispute, and had used their eyes as they were accustomed to, they
would have found the clearing was not in its usual state. Was it a
flour mill that had anchored on it during the night? It looked like
it, with its wings and sails--motionless and mysterious in the
gathering gloom.
But neither the president nor the secretary of the Weldon Institute
noticed the strange modification in the landscape of Fairmount Park;
and neither did Frycollin. It seemed to him that the thieves were
approaching, and preparing for their attack; and he was seized with
convulsive fear, paralyzed in his limbs, with every hair he could
boast of on the bristle. His terror was extreme. His knees bent under
him, but he had just strength enough to exclaim for the last time,
"Master Uncle! Master Uncle!"
"What is the matter with you?" asked Uncle Prudent.
Perhaps the disputants would not have been sorry to have relieved
their fury at the expense of the unfortunate valet. But they had no
time; and neither even had he time to answer.
A whistle was heard. A flash of electric light shot across the
clearing.
A signal, doubtless? The moment had come for the deed of violence. In
less time that it takes to tell, six men came leaping across from
under the trees, two onto Uncle Prudent, two onto Phil Evans, two
onto Frycollin--there was no need for the last two, for the Negro
was incapable of defending himself. The president and secretary of
the Weldon Institute, although taken by surprise, would have resisted.
They had neither time nor strength to do so. In a second they were
rendered speechless by a gag, blind by a bandage, thrown down,
pinioned and carried bodily off across the clearing. What could they
think except that they had fallen into the hands of people who
intended to rob them? The people did nothing of the sort, however.
They did not even touch Uncle Prudent's pockets, although, according
to his custom, they were full of paper dollars.
Within a minute of the attack, without a word being passed, Uncle
Prudent, Phil Evans, and Frycollin felt themselves laid gently down,
not on the grass, but on a sort of plank that creaked beneath them.
They were laid down side by side.
A door was shut; and the grating of a bolt in a staple told them that
they were prisoners.
Then there came a continuous buzzing, a quivering, a frrrr, with the
rrr unending.
And that was the only sound that broke the quiet of the night.
Great was the excitement next morning in Philadelphia Very early was
it known what had passed at the meeting of the Institute. Everyone
knew of the appearance of the mysterious engineer named Robur--Robur
the Conqueror--and the tumult among the balloonists, and his
inexplicable disappearance. But it was quite another thing when all
the town heard that the president and secretary of the club had also
disappeared during the night.
Long and keen was the search in the city and neighborhood! Useless!
The newspapers of Philadelphia, the newspapers of Pennsylvania, the
newspapers of the United States reported the facts and explained them
in a hundred ways, not one of which was the right one. Heavy rewards
were offered, and placards were pasted up, but all to no purpose. The
earth seemed to have opened and bodily swallowed the president and
secretary of the Weldon Institute.
Chapter VI
THE PRESIDENT AND SECRETARY SUSPEND HOSTILITIES
A bandage over the eyes, a gag in the mouth, a cord round the wrists,
a cord round the ankles, unable to see, to speak, or to move, Uncle
Prudent, Phil Evans, and Frycollin were anything but pleased with
their position. Knowing not who had seized them, nor in what they had
been thrown like parcels in a goods wagon, nor where they were, nor
what was reserved for them--it was enough to exasperate even the
most patient of the ovine race, and we know that the members of the
Weldon Institute were not precisely sheep as far as patience went.
With his violence of character we can easily imagine how Uncle
Prudent felt. One thing was evident, that Phil Evans and he would
find it difficult to attend the club next evening.
As to Frycollin, with his eyes shut and his mouth closed, it was
impossible for him to think of anything. He was more dead than alive.
For an hour the position of the prisoners remained unchanged. No one
came to visit them, or to give them that liberty of movement and
speech of which they lay in such need. They were reduced to stifled
sighs, to grunts emitted over and under their gags, to everything
that betrayed anger kept dumb and fury imprisoned, or rather bound
down. Then after many fruitless efforts they remained for some time
as though lifeless. Then as the sense of sight was denied them they
tried by their sense of hearing to obtain some indication of the
nature of this disquieting state of things. But in vain did they seek
for any other sound than an interminable and inexplicable f-r-r-r
which seemed to envelop them in a quivering atmosphere.
At last something happened. Phil Evans, regaining his coolness,
managed to slacken the cord which bound his wrists. Little by little
the knot slipped, his fingers slipped over each other, and his hands
regained their usual freedom.
A vigorous rubbing restored the circulation. A moment after he had
slipped off the bandage which bound his eyes, taken the gag out of
his mouth, and cut the cords round his ankles with his knife. An
American who has not a bowie-knife in his pocket is no longer an
American.
But if Phil Evans had regained the power of moving and speaking, that
was all. His eyes were useless to him--at present at any rate. The
prison was quite dark, though about six feet above him a feeble gleam
of light came in through a kind of loophole.
As may be imagined, Phil Evans did not hesitate to at once set free
his rival. A few cuts with the bowie settled the knots which bound
him foot and hand.
Immediately Uncle Prudent rose to his knees and snatched away his
bandage and gag.
"Thanks," said he, in stifled voice.
"Phil Evans?"
"Uncle Prudent?"
"Here we are no longer the president and secretary of the Weldon
Institute. We are adversaries no more."
"You are right," answered Evans. "We are now only two men agreed to
avenge ourselves on a third whose attempt deserves severe reprisals.
And this third is--"
"Robur!"
"It is Robur!"
On this point both were absolutely in accord. On this subject there
was no fear of dispute.
"And your servant?" said Phil Evans, pointing to Frycollin, who was
puffing like a grampus. "We must set him free."
"Not yet," said Uncle Prudent. "He would overwhelm us with his
jeremiads, and we have something else to do than abuse each other."
"What is that, Uncle Prudent?"
"To save ourselves if possible."
"You are right, even if it is impossible."
"And even if it is impossible."
There could be no doubt that this kidnapping was due to Robur, for an
ordinary thief would have relieved them of their watches, jewelry,
and purses, and thrown their bodies into the Schuyllkill with a good
gash in their throats instead of throwing them to the bottom of--Of
what? That was a serious question, which would have to be answered
before attempting an escape with any chance of success.
"Phil Evans," began Uncle Prudent, "if, when we came away from our
meeting, instead of indulging in amenities to which we need not
recur, we had kept our eyes more open, this would not have happened.
Had we remained in the streets of Philadelphia there would have been
none of this. Evidently Robur foresaw what would happen at the club,
and had placed some of his bandits on guard at the door. When we left
Walnut Street these fellows must have watched us and followed us, and
when we imprudently ventured into Fairmount Park they went in for
their little game."
"Agreed," said Evans. "We were wrong not to go straight home."
"It is always wrong not to be right," said Prudent.
Here a long-drawn sigh escaped from the darkest corner of the prison.
"What is that?" asked Evans.
"Nothing! Frycollin is dreaming."
"Between the moment we were seized a few steps out into the clearing
and the moment we were thrown in here only two minutes elapsed. It is
thus evident that those people did not take us out of Fairmount Park."
"And if they had done so we should have felt we were being moved."
"Undoubtedly; and consequently we must be in some vehicle, perhaps
some of those long prairie wagons, or some show-caravan--"
"Evidently! For if we were in a boat moored on the Schuyllkill we
should have noticed the movement due to the current--"
"That is so; and as we are still in the clearing, I think that now is
the time to get away, and we can return later to settle with this
Robur--"
"And make him pay for this attempt on the liberty of two citizens of
the United States."
"And he shall pay pretty dearly!"
"But who is this man? Where does he come from? Is he English, or
German, or French--"
"He is a scoundrel, that is enough!" said Uncle Prudent. "Now to
work." And then the two men, with their hands stretched out and their
fingers wide apart, began to feel round the walls to find a joint or
crack.
Nothing. Nothing; not even at the door. It was closely shut and it
was impossible to shoot back the lock. All that could be done was to
make a hole, and escape through the hole. It remained to be seen if
the knives could cut into the walls.
"But whence comes this never-ending rustling?" asked Evans, who was
much impressed at the continuous f-r-r-r.
"The wind, doubtless," said Uncle Prudent.
"The wind! But I thought the night was quite calm."
"So it was. But if it isn't the wind, what can it be?"
Phil Evans got out the best blade of his knife and set to work on the
wall near the door. Perhaps he might make a hole which would enable
him to open it from the outside should it be only bolted or should
the key have been left in the lock. He worked away for some minutes.
The only result was to nip up his knife, to snip off its point, and
transform what was left of the blade into a saw.
"Doesn't it cut?" asked Uncle Prudent.
"No."
"Is the wall made of sheet iron?"
"No; it gives no metallic sound when you hit it."
"Is it of ironwood?"
"No; it isn't iron and it isn't wood."
"What is it then?"
"Impossible to say. But, anyhow, steel doesn't touch it." Uncle
Prudent, in a sudden outburst of fury, began to rave and stamp on the
sonorous planks, while his hands sought to strangle an imaginary
Robur.
"Be calm, Prudent, be calm! You have a try."
Uncle Prudent had a try, but the bowie-knife could do nothing against
a wall which its best blades could not even scratch. The wall seemed
to be made of crystal.
So it became evident that all flight was impracticable except through
the door, and for a time they must resign themselves to their fate--not
a very pleasant thing for the Yankee temperament, and very much
to the disgust of these eminently practical men. But this conclusion
was not arrived at without many objurgations and loud-sounding
phrases hurled at this Robur--who, from what had been seen of him at
the Weldon Institute, was not the sort of man to trouble himself much
about them.
Suddenly Frycollin began to give unequivocal signs of being unwell.
He began to writhe in a most lamentable fashion, either with cramp in
his stomach or in his limbs; and Uncle Prudent, thinking it his duty
to put an end to these gymnastics, cut the cords that bound him.
He had cause to be sorry for it. Immediately there was poured forth
an interminable litany, in which the terrors of fear were mingled
with the tortures of hunger. Frycollin was no worse in his brain than
in his stomach, and it would have been difficult to decide to which
organ the chief cause of the trouble should be assigned.
"Frycollin!" said Uncle Prudent.
"Master Uncle! Master Uncle!" answered the Negro between two of his
lugubrious howls.
"It is possible that we are doomed to die of hunger in this prison,
but we have made up our minds not to succumb until we have availed
ourselves of every means of alimentation to prolong our lives."
"To eat me?" exclaimed Frycollin.
"As is always done with a Negro under such circumstances! So you had
better not make yourself too obvious--"
"Or you'll have your bones picked!" said Evans.
And as Frycollin saw he might be used to prolong two existences more
precious than his own, he contented himself thenceforth with groaning
in quiet.
The time went on and all attempts to force the door or get through
the wall proved fruitless. What the wall was made of was impossible
to say. It was not metal; it was not wood; it was not stone, And all
the cell seemed to be made of the same stuff. When they stamped on
the floor it gave a peculiar sound that Uncle Prudent found it
difficult to describe; the floor seemed to sound hollow, as if it was
not resting directly on the ground of the clearing. And the
inexplicable f-r-r-r-r seemed to sweep along below it. All of which
was rather alarming.
"Uncle Prudent," said Phil Evans.
"Well?"
"Do you think our prison has been moved at all?"
"Not that I know of."
"Because when we were first caught I distinctly remember the fresh
fragrance of the grass and the resinous odor of the park trees. While
now, when I take in a good sniff of the air, it seems as though all
that had gone."
"So it has."
"Why?"
"We cannot say why unless we admit that the prison has moved; and I
say again that if the prison had moved, either as a vehicle on the
road or a boat on the stream, we should have felt it."
Here Frycollin gave vent to a long groan, which might have been taken
for his last had he not followed it up with several more.
"I expect Robur will soon have us brought before him," said Phil
Evans.
"I hope so," said Uncle Prudent. "And I shall tell him--"
"What?"
"That he began by being rude and ended in being unbearable."
Here Phil Evans noticed that day was beginning to break. A gleam,
still faint, filtered through the narrow window opposite the door. It
ought thus to be about four o'clock in the morning for it is at that
hour in the month of June in this latitude that the horizon of
Philadelphia is tinged by the first rays of the dawn.
But when Uncle Prudent sounded his repeater--which was a masterpiece
from his colleague's factory--the tiny gong only gave a quarter to
three, and the watch had not stopped.
"That is strange!" said Phil Evans. "At a quarter to three it ought
still to be night."
"Perhaps my watch has got slow," answered Uncle Prudent.
"A watch of the Wheelton Watch Company!" exclaimed Phil Evans.
Whatever might be the reason, there was no doubt that the day was
breaking. Gradually the window became white in the deep darkness of
the cell. However, if the dawn appeared sooner than the fortieth
parallel permitted, it did not advance with the rapidity peculiar to
lower latitudes. This was another observation--of Uncle Prudent's--a
new inexplicable phenomenon.
"Couldn't we get up to the window and see where we are?"
"We might," said Uncle Prudent. "Frycollin, get up!"
The Negro arose.
"Put your back against the wall," continued Prudent, "and you, Evans,
get on his shoulders while I buttress him up."
"Right!" said Evans.
An instant afterwards his knees were on Frycollin's shoulders, and
his eyes were level with the window. The window was not of lenticular
glass like those on shipboard, but was a simple flat pane. It was
small, and Phil Evans found his range of view was much limited.
"Break the glass," said Prudent, "and perhaps you will be able to see
better."
Phil Evans gave it a sharp knock with the handle of his bowie-knife.
It gave back a silvery sound, but it did not break.
Another and more violent blow. The same result.
"It is unbreakable glass!" said Evans.
It appeared as though the pane was made of glass toughened on the
Siemens system--as after several blows it remained intact.
The light had now increased, and Phil Evans could see for some
distance within the radius allowed by the frame.
"What do you see?" asked Uncle Prudent.
"Nothing."
"What? Not any trees?"
"No."
"Not even the top branches?"
"No."
"Then we are not in the clearing?"
"Neither in the clearing nor in the park."
"Don't you see any roofs of houses or monuments?" said Prudent, whose
disappointment and anger were increasing rapidly.
"No."
"What! Not a flagstaff, nor a church tower, nor a chimney?"
"Nothing but space."
As he uttered the words the door opened. A man appeared on the
threshold. It was Robur.
"Honorable balloonists" he said, in a serious voice, "you are now
free to go and come as you like."
"Free!" exclaimed Uncle Prudent.
"Yes--within the limits of the "Albatross!"
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans rushed out of their prison. And what did
they see?
Four thousand feet below them the face of a country they sought in
vain to recognize.
Chapter VII
ON BOARD THE ALBATROSS
"When will man cease to crawl in the depths to live in the azure and
quiet of the sky?"
To this question of Camille Flammarion's the answer is easy. It will
be when the progress of mechanics has enabled us to solve the problem
of aviation. And in a few years--as we can foresee--a more
practical utilization of electricity will do much towards that
solution.
In 1783, before the Montgolfier brothers had built their
fire-balloon, and Charles, the physician, had devised his first
aerostat, a few adventurous spirits had dreamt of the conquest of
space by mechanical means. The first inventors did not think of
apparatus lighter than air, for that the science of their time did
not allow them to imagine. It was to contrivances heavier than air,
to flying machines in imitation of the birds, that they trusted to
realize aerial locomotion.
This was exactly what had been done by that madman Icarus, the son of
Daedalus, whose wings, fixed together with wax, had melted as they
approached the sun.
But without going back to mythological times, without dwelling on
Archytas of Tarentum, we find, in the works of Dante of Perugia, of
Leonardo da Vinci and Guidotti, the idea of machines made to move
through the air. Two centuries and a half afterwards inventors began
to multiply. In 1742 the Marquis de Bacqueville designed a system of
wings, tried it over the Seine, and fell and broke his arm. In 1768
Paucton conceived the idea of an apparatus with two screws,
suspensive and propulsive. In 1781 Meerwein, the architect of the
Prince of Baden, built an orthopteric machine, and protested against
the tendency of the aerostats which had just been invented. In 1784
Launoy and Bienvenu had maneuvered a helicopter worked by springs. In
1808 there were the attempts at flight by the Austrian Jacques Degen.
In 1810 came the pamphlet by Denian of Nantes, in which the
principles of "heavier than air" are laid down. From 1811 to 1840
came the inventions and researches of Derblinger, Vigual, Sarti,
Dubochet, and Cagniard de Latour. In 1842 we have the Englishman
Henson, with his system of inclined planes and screws worked by
steam. In 1845 came Cossus and his ascensional screws. In 1847 came
Camille Vert and his helicopter made of birds' wings. In 1852 came
Letur with his system of guidable parachutes, whose trial cost him
his life; and in the same year came Michel Loup with his plan of
gliding through the air on four revolving wings. In 1853 came
Béléguic and his aeroplane with the traction screws, Vaussin-Chardannes
with his guidable kite, and George Cauley with his flying machines
driven by gas. From 1854 to 1863 appeared Joseph Pline with several
patents for aerial systems. Bréant, Carlingford, Le Bris, Du
Temple, Bright, whose ascensional screws were left-handed; Smythies,
Panafieu, Crosnier, &c. At length, in 1863, thanks to the efforts
of Nadar, a society of "heavier than air" was founded in Paris.
There the inventors could experiment with the machines, of which
many were patented. Ponton d'Amécourt and his steam helicopter, La
Landelle and his system of combining screws with inclined planes
and parachutes, Louvrié and his aeroscape, Esterno and his mechanical
bird, Groof and his apparatus with wings worked by levers. The
impetus was given, inventors invented, calculators calculated
all that could render aerial locomotion practicable. Bourcart,
Le Bris, Kaufmann, Smyth, Stringfellow, Prigent, Danjard, Pomés
and De la Pauze, Moy, Pénaud, Jobert, Haureau de Villeneuve,
Achenbach, Garapon, Duchesne, Danduran, Pariesel, Dieuaide,
Melkiseff, Forlanini, Bearey, Tatin, Dandrieux, Edison, some with
wings or screws, others with inclined planes, imagined, created,
constructed, perfected, their flying machines, ready to do their
work, once there came to be applied to thereby some inventor a motor
of adequate power and excessive lightness.
This list may be a little long, but that will be forgiven, for it is
necessary to give the various steps in the ladder of aerial
locomotion, on the top of which appeared Robur the Conqueror. Without
these attempts, these experiments of his predecessors, how could the
inquirer have conceived so perfect an apparatus? And though he had
but contempt for those who obstinately worked away in the direction
of balloons, he held in high esteem all those partisans of "heavier
than air," English, American, Italian, Austrian, French--and
particularly French--whose work had been perfected by him, and led
him to design and then to build this flying engine known as the
"Albatross," which he was guiding through the currents of the
atmosphere.
"The pigeon flies!" had exclaimed one of the most persistent adepts
at aviation.
"They will crowd the air as they crowd the earth!" said one of his
most excited partisans.
"From the locomotive to the aeromotive!" shouted the noisiest of all,
who had turned on the trumpet of publicity to awaken the Old and New
Worlds.
Nothing, in fact, is better established, by experiment and
calculation, than that the air is highly resistant. A circumference
of only a yard in diameter in the shape of a parachute can not only
impede descent in air, but can render it isochronous. That is a fact.
It is equally well known that when the speed is great the work of the
weight varies in almost inverse ratio to the square of the speed, and
therefore becomes almost insignificant.
It is also known that as the weight of a flying animal increases, the
less is the proportional increase in the surface beaten by the wings
in order to sustain it, although the motion of the wings becomes
slower.
A flying machine must therefore be constructed to take advantage of
these natural laws, to imitate the bird, "that admirable type of
aerial locomotion," according to Dr. Marcy, of the Institute of
France.
In short the contrivances likely to solve the problem are of three
kinds:--
1. Helicopters or spiralifers, which are simply screws with vertical
axes.
2. Ornithopters, machines which endeavour to reproduce the natural
flight of birds.
3. Aeroplanes, which are merely inclined planes like kites, but towed
or driven by screws.
Each of these systems has had and still has it partisans obstinately
resolved to give way in not the slightest particular. However, Robur,
for many reasons, had rejected the two first.
The ornithopter, or mechanical bird, offers certain advantages, no
doubt. That the work and experiments of M. Renard in 1884 have
sufficiently proved. But, as has been said, it is not necessary to
copy Nature servilely. Locomotives are not copied from the hare, nor
are ships copied from the fish. To the first we have put wheels which
are not legs; to the second we have put screws which are not fins.
And they do not do so badly. Besides, what is this mechanical
movement in the flight of birds, whose action is so complex? Has not
Doctor Marcy suspected that the feathers open during the return of
the wings so as to let the air through them? And is not that rather a
difficult operation for an artificial machine?
On the other hand, aeroplanes have given many good results. Screws
opposing a slanting plane to the bed of air will produce an
ascensional movement, and the models experimented on have shown that
the disposable weight, that is to say the weight it is possible to
deal with as distinct from that of the apparatus, increases with the
square of the speed. Herein the aeroplane has the advantage over the
aerostat even when the aerostat is furnished with the means of
locomotion.
Nevertheless Robur had thought that the simpler his contrivance the
better. And the screws--the Saint Helices that had been thrown in
his teeth at the Weldon Institute--had sufficed for all the needs of
his flying machine. One series could hold it suspended in the air,
the other could drive it along under conditions that were marvelously
adapted for speed and safety.
If the ornithopter--striking like the wings of a bird--raised
itself by beating the air, the helicopter raised itself by striking
the air obliquely, with the fins of the screw as it mounted on an
inclined plane. These fins, or arms, are in reality wings, but wings
disposed as a helix instead of as a paddle wheel. The helix advances
in the direction of its axis. Is the axis vertical? Then it moves
vertically. Is the axis horizontal? Then it moves horizontally.
The whole of Robur's flying apparatus depended on these two
movements, as will be seen from the following detailed description,
which can be divided under three heads--the platform, the engines of
suspension and propulsion, and the machinery.
Platform.--This was a framework a hundred feet long and twelve wide,
a ship's deck in fact, with a projecting prow. Beneath was a hull
solidly built, enclosing the engines, stores, and provisions of all
sorts, including the watertanks. Round the deck a few light uprights
supported a wire trellis that did duty for bulwarks. On the deck were
three houses, whose compartments were used as cabins for the crew, or
as machine rooms. In the center house was the machine which drove the
suspensory helices, in that forward was the machine that drove the
bow screw, in that aft was the machine that drove the stern screw. In
the bow were the cook's galley and the crew's quarters; in the stern
were several cabins, including that of the engineer, the saloon, and
above them all a glass house in which stood the helmsman, who steered
the vessel by means of a powerful rudder. All these cabins were
lighted by port-holes filled with toughened glass, which has ten
times the resistance of ordinary glass. Beneath the hull was a system
of flexible springs to ease off the concussion when it became
advisable to land.
Engines of suspension and propulsion.--Above the deck rose
thirty-seven vertical axes, fifteen along each side, and seven, more
elevated, in the centre. The "Albatross" might be called a clipper
with thirty-seven masts. But these masts instead of sails bore each
two horizontal screws, not very large in spread or diameter, but
driven at prodigious speed. Each of these axes had its own movement
independent of the rest, and each alternate one spun round in a
different direction from the others, so as to avoid any tendency to
gyration. Hence the screws as they rose on the vertical column of air
retained their equilibrium by their horizontal resistance.
Consequently the apparatus was furnished with seventy-four suspensory
screws, whose three branches were connected by a metallic circle
which economized their motive force. In front and behind, mounted on
horizontal axes, were two propelling screws, each with four arms.
These screws were of much larger diameter than the suspensory ones,
but could be worked at quite their speed. In fact, the vessel
combined the systems of Cossus, La Landelle, and Ponton d'Amécourt, as
perfected by Robur. But it was in the choice and application of his
motive force that he could claim to be an inventor.
Machinery.--Robur had not availed himself of the vapor of water or
other liquids, nor compressed air and other mechanical motion. He
employed electricity, that agent which one day will be the soul of
the industrial world. But he required no electro-motor to produce it.
All he trusted to was piles and accumulators. What were the elements
of these piles, and what were the acids he used, Robur only knew. And
the construction of the accumulators was kept equally secret. Of what
were their positive and negative plates? None can say. The engineer
took good care--and not unreasonably--to keep his secret
unpatented. One thing was unmistakable, and that was that the piles
were of extraordinary strength; and the accumulators left those of
Faure-Sellon-Volckmar very far behind in yielding currents whose
ampères ran into figures up to then unknown. Thus there was obtained
a power to drive the screws and communicate a suspending and
propelling force in excess of all his requirements under any
circumstances.
But--it is as well to repeat it--this belonged entirely to Robur.
He kept it a close secret. And, if the president and secretary of the
Weldon Institute did not happen to discover it, it would probably be
lost to humanity.
It need not be shown that the apparatus possessed sufficient
stability. Its center of gravity proved that at once. There was no
danger of its making alarming angles with the horizontal, still less
of its capsizing.
And now for the metal used by Robur in the construction of his
aeronef--a name which can be exactly applied to the "Albatross."
What was this material, so hard that the bowie-knife of Phil Evans
could not scratch it, and Uncle Prudent could not explain its nature?
Simply paper!
For some years this fabrication had been making considerable
progress. Unsized paper, with the sheets impregnated with dextrin and
starch and squeezed in hydraulic presses, will form a material as
hard as steel. There are made of it pulleys, rails, and wagon-wheels,
much more solid than metal wheels, and far lighter. And it was this
lightness and solidity which Robur availed himself of in building his
aerial locomotive. Everything--framework, hull, houses, cabins--were
made of straw-paper turned hard as metal by compression, and--what
was not to be despised in an apparatus flying at great
heights--incombustible. The different parts of the engines and the
screws were made of gelatinized fiber, which combined in sufficient
degree flexibility with resistance. This material could be used in
every form. It was insoluble in most gases and liquids, acids or
essences, to say nothing of its insulating properties, and it proved
most valuable in the electric machinery of the "Albatross."
Robur, his mate Tom Turner, an engineer and two assistants, two
steersman and a cook--eight men all told--formed the crew of the
aeronef, and proved ample for all the maneuvers required in aerial
navigation. There were arms of the chase and of war; fishing
appliances; electric lights; instruments of observation, compasses,
and sextants for checking the course, thermometers for studying the
temperature, different barometers, some for estimating the heights
attained, others for indicating the variations of atmospheric
pressure; a storm-glass for forecasting tempests; a small library; a
portable printing press; a field-piece mounted on a pivot; breech
loading and throwing a three-inch shell; a supply of powder, bullets,
dynamite cartridges; a cooking-stove, warmed by currents from the
accumulators; a stock of preserves, meats and vegetables sufficient
to last for months. Such were the outfit and stores of the
aeronef--in addition to the famous trumpet.
There was besides a light india-rubber boat, insubmersible, which
could carry eight men on the surface of a river, a lake, or a calm
sea.
But were there any parachutes in case of accident? No. Robur did not
believe in accidents of that kind. The axes of the screws were
independent. The stoppage of a few would not affect the motion of the
others; and if only half were working, the "Albatross" could still
keep afloat in her natural element.
"And with her," said Robur to his guests--guests in spite of
themselves--"I am master of the seventh part of the world, larger
than Africa, Oceania, Asia, America, and Europe, this aerial Icarian
sea, which millions of Icarians will one day people."
Chapter VIII
THE BALLOONISTS REFUSE TO BE CONVINCED
The President of the Weldon Institute was stupefied; his companion
was astonished. But neither of them would allow any of their very
natural amazement to be visible.
The valet Frycollin did not conceal his terror at finding himself
borne through space on such a machine, and he took no pains whatever
to hide it.
The suspensory screws were rapidly spinning overhead. Fast as they
were going, they would have to triple their speed if the "Albatross"
was to ascend to higher zones. The two propellers were running very
easily and driving the ship at about eleven knots an hour.
As they leaned over the rail the passengers of the "Albatross" could
perceive a long sinuous liquid ribbon which meandered like a mere
brook through a varied country amid the gleaming of many lagoons
obliquely struck by the rays of the sun. The brook was a river, one
of the most important in that district. Along its left bank was a
chain of mountains extending out of sight.
"And will you tell us where we are?" asked Uncle Prudent, in a voice
tremulous with anger.
"I have nothing to teach you," answered Robur.
"And will you tell us where we are going?" asked Phil Evans.
"Through space."
"And how long will that last?"
"Until it ends."
"Are we going round the world?" asked Phil Evans ironically.
"Further than that," said Robur.
"And if this voyage does not suit us?" asked Uncle Prudent.
"It will have to suit you."
That is a foretaste of the nature of the relations that were to
obtain between the master of the "Albatross" and his guests, not to
say his prisoners. Manifestly he wished to give them time to cool
down, to admire the marvelous apparatus which was bearing them
through the air, and doubtless to compliment the inventor. And so he
went off to the other end of the deck, leaving them to examine the
arrangement of the machinery and the management of the ship or to
give their whole attention to the landscape which was unrolling
beneath them.
"Uncle Prudent," said Evans, "unless I am mistaken we are flying over
Central Canada. That river in the northwest is the St. Lawrence. That
town we are leaving behind is Quebec."
It was indeed the old city of Champlain, whose zinc roofs were
shining like reflectors in the sun. The "Albatross" must thus have
reached the forty-sixth degree of north latitude, and thus was
explained the premature advance of the day with the abnormal
prolongation of the dawn.
"Yes," said Phil Evans, "There is the town in its amphitheater, the
hill with its citadel, the Gibraltar of North America. There are the
cathedrals. There is the Custom House with its dome surmounted by the
British flag!"
Phil Evans had not finished before the Canadian city began to slip
into the distance.
The clipper entered a zone of light clouds, which gradually shut off
a view of the ground.
Robur, seeing that the president and secretary of the Weldon
Institute had directed their attention to the external arrangements
of the "Albatross," walked up to them and said: "Well, gentlemen, do
you believe in the possibility of aerial locomotion by machines
heavier than air?"
It would have been difficult not to succumb to the evidence. But
Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans did not reply.
"You are silent," continued the engineer. "Doubtless hunger makes you
dumb! But if I undertook to carry you through the air, I did not
think of feeding you on such a poorly nutritive fluid. Your first
breakfast is waiting for you."
As Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans were feeling the pangs of hunger
somewhat keenly they did not care to stand upon ceremony. A meal
would commit them to nothing; and when Robur put them back on the
ground they could resume full liberty of action.
And so they followed into a small dining-room in the aftermost house.
There they found a well-laid table at which they could take their
meals during the voyage. There were different preserves; and, among
other things, was a sort of bread made of equal parts of flour and
meat reduced to powder and worked together with a little lard, which
boiled in water made excellent soup; and there were rashers of fried
ham, and for drink there was tea.
Neither had Frycollin been forgotten. He was taken forward and there
found some strong soup made of this bread. In truth he had to be very
hungry to eat at all, for his jaws shook with fear, and almost
refused to work. "If it was to break! If it was to break!" said the
unfortunate Negro. Hence continual faintings. Only think! A fall of
over four thousand feet, which would smash him to a jelly!
An hour afterwards Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans appeared on the deck.
Robur was no longer there. At the stem the man at the wheel in his
glass cage, his eyes fixed on the compass, followed imperturbably
without hesitation the route given by the engineer.
As for the rest of the crew, breakfast probably kept them from their
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608
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