From 826581aad73518894cad658a61b613c22841cb19 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: izuru775 Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2022 00:08:28 +1100 Subject: [PATCH 1/2] Hashmaps completed --- src/main.rs | 26 +++++++++++++------------- 1 file changed, 13 insertions(+), 13 deletions(-) diff --git a/src/main.rs b/src/main.rs index 82e4a51..744332f 100644 --- a/src/main.rs +++ b/src/main.rs @@ -1,16 +1,16 @@ -fn main() { - let mut astronauts:Vec = Vec::new(); - astronauts.push(String::from("Shepard")); // Alan Shepard - astronauts.push(String::from("Grissom")); // Gus Grissom - astronauts.push(String::from("Glenn")); // John Glenn - println!("astronauts is {:?}",astronauts); - - let last = astronauts.pop(); - println!("last is {:?}",last); +use std::collections::HashMap; - // let third = &astronauts[2]; - let third = &astronauts.get(2); - println!("third is {:?}",third); +fn main() { + let mut mission_flown = HashMap::new(); + mission_flown.insert("Hadfield",3); + mission_flown.insert("Hurley", 3); + mission_flown.insert("Barron", 0); + mission_flown.insert("Barron", 1); + mission_flown.entry("Sodi").or_insert(2); + let kyla = mission_flown.entry("Barron").or_insert(0); + *kyla+=1; + println!("mission_flown is {:?}", mission_flown); - let countdown = vec![5,4,3,2,1]; + let barron_mission = mission_flown.get("Barron"); + println!("barron_mission is {:?}",barron_mission); } From f8aa8bb0748b01467a4eb3552341eea0aaf0abb3 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: izuru775 Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2022 23:02:25 +1100 Subject: [PATCH 2/2] Challenge completed --- from_the_Earth_to_the_Moon.txt | 11940 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ src/main.rs | 54 +- 2 files changed, 11983 insertions(+), 11 deletions(-) create mode 100644 from_the_Earth_to_the_Moon.txt diff --git a/from_the_Earth_to_the_Moon.txt b/from_the_Earth_to_the_Moon.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad3e4e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/from_the_Earth_to_the_Moon.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11940 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of From the Earth to the Moon, by Jules Verne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: From the Earth to the Moon + +Author: Jules Verne + +Release Date: September, 1993 [eBook #83] +[Most recently updated: October 8, 2020] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Rich Schroeppel + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON *** + +[Illustration] + + + + +From the Earth to the Moon + +by Jules Verne + + +Contents: From the Earth to the Moon + + CHAPTER I. The Gun Club + CHAPTER II. President Barbicane’s Communication + CHAPTER III. Effect of the President’s Communication + CHAPTER IV. Reply From the Observatory of Cambridge + CHAPTER V. The Romance of the Moon + CHAPTER VI. The Permissive Limits of Ignorance and Belief in the United States + CHAPTER VII. The Hymn of the Cannon-Ball + CHAPTER VIII. History of the Cannon + CHAPTER IX. The Question of the Powders + CHAPTER X. One Enemy _v._ Twenty-Five Millions of Friends + CHAPTER XI. Florida and Texas + CHAPTER XII. Urbi et Orbi + CHAPTER XIII. Stones Hill + CHAPTER XIV. Pickaxe and Trowel + CHAPTER XV. The Fete of the Casting + CHAPTER XVI. The Columbiad + CHAPTER XVII. A Telegraphic Dispatch + CHAPTER XVIII. The Passenger of the Atlanta + CHAPTER XIX. A Monster Meeting + CHAPTER XX. Attack and Riposte + CHAPTER XXI. How A Frenchman Manages An Affair + CHAPTER XXII. The New Citizen of the United States + CHAPTER XXIII. The Projectile-Vehicle + CHAPTER XXIV. The Telescope of the Rocky Mountains + CHAPTER XXV. Final Details + CHAPTER XXVI. Fire! + CHAPTER XXVII. Foul Weather + CHAPTER XXVIII. A New Star + +Contents: Round the Moon + + PRELIMINARY CHAPTER—Recapitulating the First Part of + +This Work, and Serving as a Preface to the Second + CHAPTER I. From Twenty Minutes Past Ten to Forty-Seven Minutes Past Ten P. M. + CHAPTER II. The First Half Hour + CHAPTER III. Their Place of Shelter + CHAPTER IV. A Little Algebra + CHAPTER V. The Cold of Space + CHAPTER VI. Question and Answer + CHAPTER VII. A Moment of Intoxication + CHAPTER VIII.At Seventy-Eight Thousand Five Hundred and Fourteen Leagues + CHAPTER IX. The Consequences of A Deviation + CHAPTER X. The Observers of the Moon + CHAPTER XI. Fancy and Reality + CHAPTER XII. Orographic Details + CHAPTER XIII. Lunar Landscapes + CHAPTER XIV. The Night of Three Hundred and Fifty-Four Hours and A Half + CHAPTER XV. Hyperbola or Parabola + CHAPTER XVI. The Southern Hemisphere + CHAPTER XVII. Tycho + CHAPTER XVIII. Grave Questions + CHAPTER XIX. A Struggle Against the Impossible + CHAPTER XX. The Soundings of the Susquehanna + CHAPTER XXI. J. T. Maston Recalled + CHAPTER XXII. Recovered From the Sea + CHAPTER XXIII. The End + + + + +FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON + + + + +CHAPTER I. +THE GUN CLUB + + +During the War of the Rebellion, a new and influential club was +established in the city of Baltimore in the State of Maryland. It is +well known with what energy the taste for military matters became +developed among that nation of ship-owners, shopkeepers, and mechanics. +Simple tradesmen jumped their counters to become extemporized captains, +colonels, and generals, without having ever passed the School of +Instruction at West Point; nevertheless; they quickly rivaled their +compeers of the old continent, and, like them, carried off victories by +dint of lavish expenditure in ammunition, money, and men. + +But the point in which the Americans singularly distanced the Europeans +was in the science of _gunnery_. Not, indeed, that their weapons +retained a higher degree of perfection than theirs, but that they +exhibited unheard-of dimensions, and consequently attained hitherto +unheard-of ranges. In point of grazing, plunging, oblique, or +enfilading, or point-blank firing, the English, French, and Prussians +have nothing to learn; but their cannon, howitzers, and mortars are +mere pocket-pistols compared with the formidable engines of the +American artillery. + +This fact need surprise no one. The Yankees, the first mechanicians in +the world, are engineers—just as the Italians are musicians and the +Germans metaphysicians—by right of birth. Nothing is more natural, +therefore, than to perceive them applying their audacious ingenuity to +the science of gunnery. Witness the marvels of Parrott, Dahlgren, and +Rodman. The Armstrong, Palliser, and Beaulieu guns were compelled to +bow before their transatlantic rivals. + +Now when an American has an idea, he directly seeks a second American +to share it. If there be three, they elect a president and two +secretaries. Given _four_, they name a keeper of records, and the +office is ready for work; _five_, they convene a general meeting, and +the club is fully constituted. So things were managed in Baltimore. The +inventor of a new cannon associated himself with the caster and the +borer. Thus was formed the nucleus of the “Gun Club.” In a single month +after its formation it numbered 1,833 effective members and 30,565 +corresponding members. + +One condition was imposed as a _sine quâ non_ upon every candidate for +admission into the association, and that was the condition of having +designed, or (more or less) perfected a cannon; or, in default of a +cannon, at least a firearm of some description. It may, however, be +mentioned that mere inventors of revolvers, fire-shooting carbines, and +similar small arms, met with little consideration. Artillerists always +commanded the chief place of favor. + +The estimation in which these gentlemen were held, according to one of +the most scientific exponents of the Gun Club, was “proportional to the +masses of their guns, and in the direct ratio of the square of the +distances attained by their projectiles.” + +The Gun Club once founded, it is easy to conceive the result of the +inventive genius of the Americans. Their military weapons attained +colossal proportions, and their projectiles, exceeding the prescribed +limits, unfortunately occasionally cut in two some unoffending +pedestrians. These inventions, in fact, left far in the rear the timid +instruments of European artillery. + +It is but fair to add that these Yankees, brave as they have ever +proved themselves to be, did not confine themselves to theories and +formulae, but that they paid heavily, _in propriâ personâ_, for their +inventions. Among them were to be counted officers of all ranks, from +lieutenants to generals; military men of every age, from those who were +just making their _début_ in the profession of arms up to those who had +grown old in the gun-carriage. Many had found their rest on the field +of battle whose names figured in the “Book of Honor” of the Gun Club; +and of those who made good their return the greater proportion bore the +marks of their indisputable valor. Crutches, wooden legs, artificial +arms, steel hooks, caoutchouc jaws, silver craniums, platinum noses, +were all to be found in the collection; and it was calculated by the +great statistician Pitcairn that throughout the Gun Club there was not +quite one arm between four persons and two legs between six. + +Nevertheless, these valiant artillerists took no particular account of +these little facts, and felt justly proud when the despatches of a +battle returned the number of victims at ten-fold the quantity of +projectiles expended. + +One day, however—sad and melancholy day!—peace was signed between the +survivors of the war; the thunder of the guns gradually ceased, the +mortars were silent, the howitzers were muzzled for an indefinite +period, the cannon, with muzzles depressed, were returned into the +arsenal, the shot were repiled, all bloody reminiscences were effaced; +the cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the well-manured fields, all +mourning garments were laid aside, together with grief; and the Gun +Club was relegated to profound inactivity. + +Some few of the more advanced and inveterate theorists set themselves +again to work upon calculations regarding the laws of projectiles. They +reverted invariably to gigantic shells and howitzers of unparalleled +caliber. Still in default of practical experience what was the value of +mere theories? Consequently, the clubrooms became deserted, the +servants dozed in the antechambers, the newspapers grew mouldy on the +tables, sounds of snoring came from dark corners, and the members of +the Gun Club, erstwhile so noisy in their seances, were reduced to +silence by this disastrous peace and gave themselves up wholly to +dreams of a Platonic kind of artillery. + +“This is horrible!” said Tom Hunter one evening, while rapidly +carbonizing his wooden legs in the fireplace of the smoking-room; +“nothing to do! nothing to look forward to! what a loathsome existence! +When again shall the guns arouse us in the morning with their +delightful reports?” + +“Those days are gone by,” said jolly Bilsby, trying to extend his +missing arms. “It was delightful once upon a time! One invented a gun, +and hardly was it cast, when one hastened to try it in the face of the +enemy! Then one returned to camp with a word of encouragement from +Sherman or a friendly shake of the hand from McClellan. But now the +generals are gone back to their counters; and in place of projectiles, +they despatch bales of cotton. By Jove, the future of gunnery in +America is lost!” + +“Ay! and no war in prospect!” continued the famous James T. Maston, +scratching with his steel hook his gutta-percha cranium. “Not a cloud +on the horizon! and that too at such a critical period in the progress +of the science of artillery! Yes, gentlemen! I who address you have +myself this very morning perfected a model (plan, section, elevation, +etc.) of a mortar destined to change all the conditions of warfare!” + +“No! is it possible?” replied Tom Hunter, his thoughts reverting +involuntarily to a former invention of the Hon. J. T. Maston, by which, +at its first trial, he had succeeded in killing three hundred and +thirty-seven people. + +“Fact!” replied he. “Still, what is the use of so many studies worked +out, so many difficulties vanquished? It’s mere waste of time! The New +World seems to have made up its mind to live in peace; and our +bellicose _Tribune_ predicts some approaching catastrophes arising out +of this scandalous increase of population.” + +“Nevertheless,” replied Colonel Blomsberry, “they are always struggling +in Europe to maintain the principle of nationalities.” + +“Well?” + +“Well, there might be some field for enterprise down there; and if they +would accept our services—” + +“What are you dreaming of?” screamed Bilsby; “work at gunnery for the +benefit of foreigners?” + +“That would be better than doing nothing here,” returned the colonel. + +“Quite so,” said J. T. Matson; “but still we need not dream of that +expedient.” + +“And why not?” demanded the colonel. + +“Because their ideas of progress in the Old World are contrary to our +American habits of thought. Those fellows believe that one can’t become +a general without having served first as an ensign; which is as much as +to say that one can’t point a gun without having first cast it +oneself!” + +“Ridiculous!” replied Tom Hunter, whittling with his bowie-knife the +arms of his easy chair; “but if that be the case there, all that is +left for us is to plant tobacco and distill whale-oil.” + +“What!” roared J. T. Maston, “shall we not employ these remaining years +of our life in perfecting firearms? Shall there never be a fresh +opportunity of trying the ranges of projectiles? Shall the air never +again be lighted with the glare of our guns? No international +difficulty ever arise to enable us to declare war against some +transatlantic power? Shall not the French sink one of our steamers, or +the English, in defiance of the rights of nations, hang a few of our +countrymen?” + +“No such luck,” replied Colonel Blomsberry; “nothing of the kind is +likely to happen; and even if it did, we should not profit by it. +American susceptibility is fast declining, and we are all going to the +dogs.” + +“It is too true,” replied J. T. Maston, with fresh violence; “there are +a thousand grounds for fighting, and yet we don’t fight. We save up our +arms and legs for the benefit of nations who don’t know what to do with +them! But stop—without going out of one’s way to find a cause for +war—did not North America once belong to the English?” + +“Undoubtedly,” replied Tom Hunter, stamping his crutch with fury. + +“Well, then,” replied J. T. Maston, “why should not England in her turn +belong to the Americans?” + +“It would be but just and fair,” returned Colonel Blomsberry. + +“Go and propose it to the President of the United States,” cried J. T. +Maston, “and see how he will receive you.” + +“Bah!” growled Bilsby between the four teeth which the war had left +him; “that will never do!” + +“By Jove!” cried J. T. Maston, “he mustn’t count on my vote at the next +election!” + +“Nor on ours,” replied unanimously all the bellicose invalids. + +“Meanwhile,” replied J. T. Maston, “allow me to say that, if I cannot +get an opportunity to try my new mortars on a real field of battle, I +shall say good-by to the members of the Gun Club, and go and bury +myself in the prairies of Arkansas!” + +“In that case we will accompany you,” cried the others. + +Matters were in this unfortunate condition, and the club was threatened +with approaching dissolution, when an unexpected circumstance occurred +to prevent so deplorable a catastrophe. + +On the morrow after this conversation every member of the association +received a sealed circular couched in the following terms: + +BALTIMORE, October 3. The president of the Gun Club has the honor to +inform his colleagues that, at the meeting of the 5th instant, he will +bring before them a communication of an extremely interesting nature. +He requests, therefore, that they will make it convenient to attend in +accordance with the present invitation. Very cordially, IMPEY +BARBICANE, P.G.C. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +PRESIDENT BARBICANE’S COMMUNICATION + + +On the 5th of October, at eight p.m., a dense crowd pressed toward the +saloons of the Gun Club at No. 21 Union Square. All the members of the +association resident in Baltimore attended the invitation of their +president. As regards the corresponding members, notices were delivered +by hundreds throughout the streets of the city, and, large as was the +great hall, it was quite inadequate to accommodate the crowd of +_savants_. They overflowed into the adjoining rooms, down the narrow +passages, into the outer courtyards. There they ran against the vulgar +herd who pressed up to the doors, each struggling to reach the front +ranks, all eager to learn the nature of the important communication of +President Barbicane; all pushing, squeezing, crushing with that perfect +freedom of action which is so peculiar to the masses when educated in +ideas of “self-government.” + +On that evening a stranger who might have chanced to be in Baltimore +could not have gained admission for love or money into the great hall. +That was reserved exclusively for resident or corresponding members; no +one else could possibly have obtained a place; and the city magnates, +municipal councilors, and “select men” were compelled to mingle with +the mere townspeople in order to catch stray bits of news from the +interior. + +Nevertheless the vast hall presented a curious spectacle. Its immense +area was singularly adapted to the purpose. Lofty pillars formed of +cannon, superposed upon huge mortars as a base, supported the fine +ironwork of the arches, a perfect piece of cast-iron lacework. Trophies +of blunderbuses, matchlocks, arquebuses, carbines, all kinds of +firearms, ancient and modern, were picturesquely interlaced against the +walls. The gas lit up in full glare myriads of revolvers grouped in the +form of lustres, while groups of pistols, and candelabra formed of +muskets bound together, completed this magnificent display of +brilliance. Models of cannon, bronze castings, sights covered with +dents, plates battered by the shots of the Gun Club, assortments of +rammers and sponges, chaplets of shells, wreaths of projectiles, +garlands of howitzers—in short, all the apparatus of the artillerist, +enchanted the eye by this wonderful arrangement and induced a kind of +belief that their real purpose was ornamental rather than deadly. + +At the further end of the saloon the president, assisted by four +secretaries, occupied a large platform. His chair, supported by a +carved gun-carriage, was modeled upon the ponderous proportions of a +32-inch mortar. It was pointed at an angle of ninety degrees, and +suspended upon truncheons, so that the president could balance himself +upon it as upon a rocking-chair, a very agreeable fact in the very hot +weather. Upon the table (a huge iron plate supported upon six +carronades) stood an inkstand of exquisite elegance, made of a +beautifully chased Spanish piece, and a sonnette, which, when required, +could give forth a report equal to that of a revolver. During violent +debates this novel kind of bell scarcely sufficed to drown the clamor +of these excitable artillerists. + +In front of the table benches arranged in zigzag form, like the +circumvallations of a retrenchment, formed a succession of bastions and +curtains set apart for the use of the members of the club; and on this +especial evening one might say, “All the world was on the ramparts.” +The president was sufficiently well known, however, for all to be +assured that he would not put his colleagues to discomfort without some +very strong motive. + +Impey Barbicane was a man of forty years of age, calm, cold, austere; +of a singularly serious and self-contained demeanor, punctual as a +chronometer, of imperturbable temper and immovable character; by no +means chivalrous, yet adventurous withal, and always bringing practical +ideas to bear upon the very rashest enterprises; an essentially New +Englander, a Northern colonist, a descendant of the old anti-Stuart +Roundheads, and the implacable enemy of the gentlemen of the South, +those ancient cavaliers of the mother country. In a word, he was a +Yankee to the backbone. + +Barbicane had made a large fortune as a timber merchant. Being +nominated director of artillery during the war, he proved himself +fertile in invention. Bold in his conceptions, he contributed +powerfully to the progress of that arm and gave an immense impetus to +experimental researches. + +He was personage of the middle height, having, by a rare exception in +the Gun Club, all his limbs complete. His strongly marked features +seemed drawn by square and rule; and if it be true that, in order to +judge a man’s character one must look at his profile, Barbicane, so +examined, exhibited the most certain indications of energy, audacity, +and _sang-froid_. + +At this moment he was sitting in his armchair, silent, absorbed, lost +in reflection, sheltered under his high-crowned hat—a kind of black +cylinder which always seems firmly screwed upon the head of an +American. + +Just when the deep-toned clock in the great hall struck eight, +Barbicane, as if he had been set in motion by a spring, raised himself +up. A profound silence ensued, and the speaker, in a somewhat emphatic +tone of voice, commenced as follows: + +“My brave, colleagues, too long already a paralyzing peace has plunged +the members of the Gun Club in deplorable inactivity. After a period of +years full of incidents we have been compelled to abandon our labors, +and to stop short on the road of progress. I do not hesitate to state, +baldly, that any war which would recall us to arms would be welcome!” +(_Tremendous applause!_) “But war, gentlemen, is impossible under +existing circumstances; and, however we may desire it, many years may +elapse before our cannon shall again thunder in the field of battle. We +must make up our minds, then, to seek in another train of ideas some +field for the activity which we all pine for.” + +The meeting felt that the president was now approaching the critical +point, and redoubled their attention accordingly. + +“For some months past, my brave colleagues,” continued Barbicane, “I +have been asking myself whether, while confining ourselves to our own +particular objects, we could not enter upon some grand experiment +worthy of the nineteenth century; and whether the progress of artillery +science would not enable us to carry it out to a successful issue. I +have been considering, working, calculating; and the result of my +studies is the conviction that we are safe to succeed in an enterprise +which to any other country would appear wholly impracticable. This +project, the result of long elaboration, is the object of my present +communication. It is worthy of yourselves, worthy of the antecedents of +the Gun Club; and it cannot fail to make some noise in the world.” + +A thrill of excitement ran through the meeting. + +Barbicane, having by a rapid movement firmly fixed his hat upon his +head, calmly continued his harangue: + +“There is no one among you, my brave colleagues, who has not seen the +Moon, or, at least, heard speak of it. Don’t be surprised if I am about +to discourse to you regarding the Queen of the Night. It is perhaps +reserved for us to become the Columbuses of this unknown world. Only +enter into my plans, and second me with all your power, and I will lead +you to its conquest, and its name shall be added to those of the +thirty-six states which compose this Great Union.” + +“Three cheers for the Moon!” roared the Gun Club, with one voice. + +“The moon, gentlemen, has been carefully studied,” continued Barbicane; +“her mass, density, and weight; her constitution, motions, distance, as +well as her place in the solar system, have all been exactly +determined. Selenographic charts have been constructed with a +perfection which equals, if it does not even surpass, that of our +terrestrial maps. Photography has given us proofs of the incomparable +beauty of our satellite; all is known regarding the moon which +mathematical science, astronomy, geology, and optics can learn about +her. But up to the present moment no direct communication has been +established with her.” + +A violent movement of interest and surprise here greeted this remark of +the speaker. + +“Permit me,” he continued, “to recount to you briefly how certain +ardent spirits, starting on imaginary journeys, have penetrated the +secrets of our satellite. In the seventeenth century a certain David +Fabricius boasted of having seen with his own eyes the inhabitants of +the moon. In 1649 a Frenchman, one Jean Baudoin, published a ‘Journey +performed from the Earth to the Moon by Domingo Gonzalez,’ a Spanish +adventurer. At the same period Cyrano de Bergerac published that +celebrated ‘Journeys in the Moon’ which met with such success in +France. Somewhat later another Frenchman, named Fontenelle, wrote ‘The +Plurality of Worlds,’ a _chef-d’œuvre_ of its time. About 1835 a small +treatise, translated from the _New York American_, related how Sir John +Herschel, having been despatched to the Cape of Good Hope for the +purpose of making there some astronomical calculations, had, by means +of a telescope brought to perfection by means of internal lighting, +reduced the apparent distance of the moon to eighty yards! He then +distinctly perceived caverns frequented by hippopotami, green mountains +bordered by golden lace-work, sheep with horns of ivory, a white +species of deer and inhabitants with membranous wings, like bats. This +_brochure_, the work of an American named Locke, had a great sale. But, +to bring this rapid sketch to a close, I will only add that a certain +Hans Pfaal, of Rotterdam, launching himself in a balloon filled with a +gas extracted from nitrogen, thirty-seven times lighter than hydrogen, +reached the moon after a passage of nineteen hours. This journey, like +all previous ones, was purely imaginary; still, it was the work of a +popular American author—I mean Edgar Poe!” + +“Cheers for Edgar Poe!” roared the assemblage, electrified by their +president’s words. + +“I have now enumerated,” said Barbicane, “the experiments which I call +purely paper ones, and wholly insufficient to establish serious +relations with the Queen of the Night. Nevertheless, I am bound to add +that some practical geniuses have attempted to establish actual +communication with her. Thus, a few days ago, a German geometrician +proposed to send a scientific expedition to the steppes of Siberia. +There, on those vast plains, they were to describe enormous geometric +figures, drawn in characters of reflecting luminosity, among which was +the proposition regarding the ‘square of the hypothenuse,’ commonly +called the ‘_Ass’s Bridge_’ by the French. ‘Every intelligent being,’ +said the geometrician, ‘must understand the scientific meaning of that +figure. The Selenites, do they exist, will respond by a similar figure; +and, a communication being thus once established, it will be easy to +form an alphabet which shall enable us to converse with the inhabitants +of the moon.’ So spoke the German geometrician; but his project was +never put into practice, and up to the present day there is no bond in +existence between the Earth and her satellite. It is reserved for the +practical genius of Americans to establish a communication with the +sidereal world. The means of arriving thither are simple, easy, +certain, infallible—and that is the purpose of my present proposal.” + +A storm of acclamations greeted these words. There was not a single +person in the whole audience who was not overcome, carried away, lifted +out of himself by the speaker’s words! + +Long-continued applause resounded from all sides. + +As soon as the excitement had partially subsided, Barbicane resumed his +speech in a somewhat graver voice. + +“You know,” said he, “what progress artillery science has made during +the last few years, and what a degree of perfection firearms of every +kind have reached. Moreover, you are well aware that, in general terms, +the resisting power of cannon and the expansive force of gunpowder are +practically unlimited. Well! starting from this principle, I ask myself +whether, supposing sufficient apparatus could be obtained constructed +upon the conditions of ascertained resistance, it might not be possible +to project a shot up to the moon?” + +At these words a murmur of amazement escaped from a thousand panting +chests; then succeeded a moment of perfect silence, resembling that +profound stillness which precedes the bursting of a thunderstorm. In +point of fact, a thunderstorm did peal forth, but it was the thunder of +applause, or cries, and of uproar which made the very hall tremble. The +president attempted to speak, but could not. It was fully ten minutes +before he could make himself heard. + +“Suffer me to finish,” he calmly continued. “I have looked at the +question in all its bearings, I have resolutely attacked it, and by +incontrovertible calculations I find that a projectile endowed with an +initial velocity of 12,000 yards per second, and aimed at the moon, +must necessarily reach it. I have the honor, my brave colleagues, to +propose a trial of this little experiment.” + + + + +CHAPTER III. +EFFECT OF THE PRESIDENT’S COMMUNICATION + + +It is impossible to describe the effect produced by the last words of +the honorable president—the cries, the shouts, the succession of roars, +hurrahs, and all the varied vociferations which the American language +is capable of supplying. It was a scene of indescribable confusion and +uproar. They shouted, they clapped, they stamped on the floor of the +hall. All the weapons in the museum discharged at once could not have +more violently set in motion the waves of sound. One need not be +surprised at this. There are some cannoneers nearly as noisy as their +own guns. + +Barbicane remained calm in the midst of this enthusiastic clamor; +perhaps he was desirous of addressing a few more words to his +colleagues, for by his gestures he demanded silence, and his powerful +alarum was worn out by its violent reports. No attention, however, was +paid to his request. He was presently torn from his seat and passed +from the hands of his faithful colleagues into the arms of a no less +excited crowd. + +Nothing can astound an American. It has often been asserted that the +word “impossible” is not a French one. People have evidently been +deceived by the dictionary. In America, all is easy, all is simple; and +as for mechanical difficulties, they are overcome before they arise. +Between Barbicane’s proposition and its realization no true Yankee +would have allowed even the semblance of a difficulty to be possible. A +thing with them is no sooner said than done. + +The triumphal progress of the president continued throughout the +evening. It was a regular torchlight procession. Irish, Germans, +French, Scotch, all the heterogeneous units which make up the +population of Maryland shouted in their respective vernaculars; and the +“vivas,” “hurrahs,” and “bravos” were intermingled in inexpressible +enthusiasm. + +Just at this crisis, as though she comprehended all this agitation +regarding herself, the moon shone forth with serene splendor, eclipsing +by her intense illumination all the surrounding lights. The Yankees all +turned their gaze toward her resplendent orb, kissed their hands, +called her by all kinds of endearing names. Between eight o’clock and +midnight one optician in Jones’-Fall Street made his fortune by the +sale of opera-glasses. + +Midnight arrived, and the enthusiasm showed no signs of diminution. It +spread equally among all classes of citizens—men of science, +shopkeepers, merchants, porters, chair-men, as well as “greenhorns,” +were stirred in their innermost fibres. A national enterprise was at +stake. The whole city, high and low, the quays bordering the Patapsco, +the ships lying in the basins, disgorged a crowd drunk with joy, gin, +and whisky. Every one chattered, argued, discussed, disputed, +applauded, from the gentleman lounging upon the barroom settee with his +tumbler of sherry-cobbler before him down to the waterman who got drunk +upon his “knock-me-down” in the dingy taverns of Fell Point. + +About two A.M., however, the excitement began to subside. President +Barbicane reached his house, bruised, crushed, and squeezed almost to a +mummy. Hercules could not have resisted a similar outbreak of +enthusiasm. The crowd gradually deserted the squares and streets. The +four railways from Philadelphia and Washington, Harrisburg and +Wheeling, which converge at Baltimore, whirled away the heterogeneous +population to the four corners of the United States, and the city +subsided into comparative tranquility. + +On the following day, thanks to the telegraphic wires, five hundred +newspapers and journals, daily, weekly, monthly, or bi-monthly, all +took up the question. They examined it under all its different aspects, +physical, meteorological, economical, or moral, up to its bearings on +politics or civilization. They debated whether the moon was a finished +world, or whether it was destined to undergo any further +transformation. Did it resemble the earth at the period when the latter +was destitute as yet of an atmosphere? What kind of spectacle would its +hidden hemisphere present to our terrestrial spheroid? Granting that +the question at present was simply that of sending a projectile up to +the moon, every one must see that that involved the commencement of a +series of experiments. All must hope that some day America would +penetrate the deepest secrets of that mysterious orb; and some even +seemed to fear lest its conquest should not sensibly derange the +equilibrium of Europe. + +The project once under discussion, not a single paragraph suggested a +doubt of its realization. All the papers, pamphlets, reports—all the +journals published by the scientific, literary, and religious societies +enlarged upon its advantages; and the Society of Natural History of +Boston, the Society of Science and Art of Albany, the Geographical and +Statistical Society of New York, the Philosophical Society of +Philadelphia, and the Smithsonian of Washington sent innumerable +letters of congratulation to the Gun Club, together with offers of +immediate assistance and money. + +From that day forward Impey Barbicane became one of the greatest +citizens of the United States, a kind of Washington of science. A +single trait of feeling, taken from many others, will serve to show the +point which this homage of a whole people to a single individual +attained. + +Some few days after this memorable meeting of the Gun Club, the manager +of an English company announced, at the Baltimore theatre, the +production of “Much ado about Nothing.” But the populace, seeing in +that title an allusion damaging to Barbicane’s project, broke into the +auditorium, smashed the benches, and compelled the unlucky director to +alter his playbill. Being a sensible man, he bowed to the public will +and replaced the offending comedy by “As you like it”; and for many +weeks he realized fabulous profits. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +REPLY FROM THE OBSERVATORY OF CAMBRIDGE + + +Barbicane, however, lost not one moment amid all the enthusiasm of +which he had become the object. His first care was to reassemble his +colleagues in the board-room of the Gun Club. There, after some +discussion, it was agreed to consult the astronomers regarding the +astronomical part of the enterprise. Their reply once ascertained, they +could then discuss the mechanical means, and nothing should be wanting +to ensure the success of this great experiment. + +A note couched in precise terms, containing special interrogatories, +was then drawn up and addressed to the Observatory of Cambridge in +Massachusetts. This city, where the first university of the United +States was founded, is justly celebrated for its astronomical staff. +There are to be found assembled all the most eminent men of science. +Here is to be seen at work that powerful telescope which enabled Bond +to resolve the nebula of Andromeda, and Clarke to discover the +satellite of Sirius. This celebrated institution fully justified on all +points the confidence reposed in it by the Gun Club. So, after two +days, the reply so impatiently awaited was placed in the hands of +President Barbicane. + +It was couched in the following terms: + +_The Director of the Cambridge Observatory to the President of the Gun +Club at Baltimore._ + +CAMBRIDGE, October 7. On the receipt of your favor of the 6th instant, +addressed to the Observatory of Cambridge in the name of the members of +the Baltimore Gun Club, our staff was immediately called together, and +it was judged expedient to reply as follows: + +The questions which have been proposed to it are these— + +“1. Is it possible to transmit a projectile up to the moon? + +“2. What is the exact distance which separates the earth from its +satellite? + +“3. What will be the period of transit of the projectile when endowed +with sufficient initial velocity? and, consequently, at what moment +ought it to be discharged in order that it may touch the moon at a +particular point? + +“4. At what precise moment will the moon present herself in the most +favorable position to be reached by the projectile? + +“5. What point in the heavens ought the cannon to be aimed at which is +intended to discharge the projectile? + +“6. What place will the moon occupy in the heavens at the moment of the +projectile’s departure?” + +Regarding the _first_ question, “Is it possible to transmit a +projectile up to the moon?” + +_Answer._—Yes; provided it possess an initial velocity of 1,200 yards +per second; calculations prove that to be sufficient. In proportion as +we recede from the earth the action of gravitation diminishes in the +inverse ratio of the square of the distance; that is to say, _at three +times a given distance the action is nine times less._ Consequently, +the weight of a shot will decrease, and will become reduced to _zero_ +at the instant that the attraction of the moon exactly counterpoises +that of the earth; that is to say at 47/52 of its passage. At that +instant the projectile will have no weight whatever; and, if it passes +that point, it will fall into the moon by the sole effect of the lunar +attraction. The _theoretical possibility_ of the experiment is +therefore absolutely demonstrated; its _success_ must depend upon the +power of the engine employed. + +As to the _second_ question, “What is the exact distance which +separates the earth from its satellite?” + +_Answer._—The moon does not describe a _circle_ round the earth, but +rather an _ellipse_, of which our earth occupies one of the _foci_; the +consequence, therefore, is, that at certain times it approaches nearer +to, and at others it recedes farther from, the earth; in astronomical +language, it is at one time in _apogee_, at another in _perigee_. Now +the difference between its greatest and its least distance is too +considerable to be left out of consideration. In point of fact, in its +apogee the moon is 247,552 miles, and in its perigee, 218,657 miles +only distant; a fact which makes a difference of 28,895 miles, or more +than one-ninth of the entire distance. The perigee distance, therefore, +is that which ought to serve as the basis of all calculations. + +To the _third_ question:— + +_Answer._—If the shot should preserve continuously its initial velocity +of 12,000 yards per second, it would require little more than nine +hours to reach its destination; but, inasmuch as that initial velocity +will be continually decreasing, it will occupy 300,000 seconds, that is +83hrs. 20m. in reaching the point where the attraction of the earth and +moon will be _in equilibrio_. From this point it will fall into the +moon in 50,000 seconds, or 13hrs. 53m. 20sec. It will be desirable, +therefore, to discharge it 97hrs. 13m. 20sec. before the arrival of the +moon at the point aimed at. + +Regarding question _four_, “At what precise moment will the moon +present herself in the most favorable position, etc.?” + +_Answer._—After what has been said above, it will be necessary, first +of all, to choose the period when the moon will be in perigee, and +_also_ the moment when she will be crossing the zenith, which latter +event will further diminish the entire distance by a length equal to +the radius of the earth, _i. e._ 3,919 miles; the result of which will +be that the final passage remaining to be accomplished will be 214,976 +miles. But although the moon passes her perigee every month, she does +not reach the zenith always _at exactly the same moment_. She does not +appear under these two conditions simultaneously, except at long +intervals of time. It will be necessary, therefore, to wait for the +moment when her passage in perigee shall coincide with that in the +zenith. Now, by a fortunate circumstance, on the 4th of December in the +ensuing year the moon _will_ present these two conditions. At midnight +she will be in perigee, that is, at her shortest distance from the +earth, and at the same moment she will be crossing the zenith. + +On the _fifth_ question, “At what point in the heavens ought the cannon +to be aimed?” + +_Answer._—The preceding remarks being admitted, the cannon ought to be +pointed to the zenith of the place. Its fire, therefore, will be +perpendicular to the plane of the horizon; and the projectile will +soonest pass beyond the range of the terrestrial attraction. But, in +order that the moon should reach the zenith of a given place, it is +necessary that the place should not exceed in latitude the declination +of the luminary; in other words, it must be comprised within the +degrees 0° and 28° of lat. N. or S. In every other spot the fire must +necessarily be oblique, which would seriously militate against the +success of the experiment. + +As to the _sixth_ question, “What place will the moon occupy in the +heavens at the moment of the projectile’s departure?” + +_Answer._—At the moment when the projectile shall be discharged into +space, the moon, which travels daily forward 13° 10′ 35″, will be +distant from the zenith point by four times that quantity, _i. e._ by +52° 41′ 20″, a space which corresponds to the path which she will +describe during the entire journey of the projectile. But, inasmuch as +it is equally necessary to take into account the deviation which the +rotary motion of the earth will impart to the shot, and as the shot +cannot reach the moon until after a deviation equal to 16 radii of the +earth, which, calculated upon the moon’s orbit, are equal to about +eleven degrees, it becomes necessary to add these eleven degrees to +those which express the retardation of the moon just mentioned: that is +to say, in round numbers, about sixty-four degrees. Consequently, at +the moment of firing the visual radius applied to the moon will +describe, with the vertical line of the place, an angle of sixty-four +degrees. + +These are our answers to the questions proposed to the Observatory of +Cambridge by the members of the Gun Club:— + +To sum up— + +1st. The cannon ought to be planted in a country situated between 0° +and 28° of N. or S. lat. + +2nd. It ought to be pointed directly toward the zenith of the place. + +3rd. The projectile ought to be propelled with an initial velocity of +12,000 yards per second. + +4th. It ought to be discharged at 10hrs. 46m. 40sec. of the 1st of +December of the ensuing year. + +5th. It will meet the moon four days after its discharge, precisely at +midnight on the 4th of December, at the moment of its transit across +the zenith. + +The members of the Gun Club ought, therefore, without delay, to +commence the works necessary for such an experiment, and to be prepared +to set to work at the moment determined upon; for, if they should +suffer this 4th of December to go by, they will not find the moon again +under the same conditions of perigee and of zenith until eighteen years +and eleven days afterward. + +The staff of the Cambridge Observatory place themselves entirely at +their disposal in respect of all questions of theoretical astronomy; +and herewith add their congratulations to those of all the rest of +America. For the Astronomical Staff, J. M. BELFAST, _Director of the +Observatory of Cambridge._ + + + + +CHAPTER V. +THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON + + +An observer endued with an infinite range of vision, and placed in that +unknown center around which the entire world revolves, might have +beheld myriads of atoms filling all space during the chaotic epoch of +the universe. Little by little, as ages went on, a change took place; a +general law of attraction manifested itself, to which the hitherto +errant atoms became obedient: these atoms combined together chemically +according to their affinities, formed themselves into molecules, and +composed those nebulous masses with which the depths of the heavens are +strewed. These masses became immediately endued with a rotary motion +around their own central point. This center, formed of indefinite +molecules, began to revolve around its own axis during its gradual +condensation; then, following the immutable laws of mechanics, in +proportion as its bulk diminished by condensation, its rotary motion +became accelerated, and these two effects continuing, the result was +the formation of one principal star, the center of the nebulous mass. + +By attentively watching, the observer would then have perceived the +other molecules of the mass, following the example of this central +star, become likewise condensed by gradually accelerated rotation, and +gravitating round it in the shape of innumerable stars. Thus was formed +the _Nebulæ_, of which astronomers have reckoned up nearly 5,000. + +Among these 5,000 nebulæ there is one which has received the name of +the Milky Way, and which contains eighteen millions of stars, each of +which has become the center of a solar world. + +If the observer had then specially directed his attention to one of the +more humble and less brilliant of these stellar bodies, a star of the +fourth class, that which is arrogantly called the Sun, all the +phenomena to which the formation of the Universe is to be ascribed +would have been successively fulfilled before his eyes. In fact, he +would have perceived this sun, as yet in the gaseous state, and +composed of moving molecules, revolving round its axis in order to +accomplish its work of concentration. This motion, faithful to the laws +of mechanics, would have been accelerated with the diminution of its +volume; and a moment would have arrived when the centrifugal force +would have overpowered the centripetal, which causes the molecules all +to tend toward the center. + +Another phenomenon would now have passed before the observer’s eye, and +the molecules situated on the plane of the equator, escaping like a +stone from a sling of which the cord had suddenly snapped, would have +formed around the sun sundry concentric rings resembling that of +Saturn. In their turn, again, these rings of cosmical matter, excited +by a rotary motion about the central mass, would have been broken up +and decomposed into secondary nebulosities, that is to say, into +planets. Similarly he would have observed these planets throw off one +or more rings each, which became the origin of the secondary bodies +which we call satellites. + +Thus, then, advancing from atom to molecule, from molecule to nebulous +mass, from that to principal star, from star to sun, from sun to +planet, and hence to satellite, we have the whole series of +transformations undergone by the heavenly bodies during the first days +of the world. + +Now, of those attendant bodies which the sun maintains in their +elliptical orbits by the great law of gravitation, some few in turn +possess satellites. Uranus has eight, Saturn eight, Jupiter four, +Neptune possibly three, and the Earth one. This last, one of the least +important of the entire solar system, we call the Moon; and it is she +whom the daring genius of the Americans professed their intention of +conquering. + +The moon, by her comparative proximity, and the constantly varying +appearances produced by her several phases, has always occupied a +considerable share of the attention of the inhabitants of the earth. + +From the time of Thales of Miletus, in the fifth century B.C., down to +that of Copernicus in the fifteenth and Tycho Brahé in the sixteenth +century A.D., observations have been from time to time carried on with +more or less correctness, until in the present day the altitudes of the +lunar mountains have been determined with exactitude. Galileo explained +the phenomena of the lunar light produced during certain of her phases +by the existence of mountains, to which he assigned a mean altitude of +27,000 feet. After him Hévelius, an astronomer of Dantzic, reduced the +highest elevations to 15,000 feet; but the calculations of Riccioli +brought them up again to 21,000 feet. + +At the close of the eighteenth century Herschel, armed with a powerful +telescope, considerably reduced the preceding measurements. He assigned +a height of 11,400 feet to the maximum elevations, and reduced the mean +of the different altitudes to little more than 2,400 feet. But +Herschel’s calculations were in their turn corrected by the +observations of Halley, Nasmyth, Bianchini, Gruithuysen, and others; +but it was reserved for the labors of Boeer and Maedler finally to +solve the question. They succeeded in measuring 1,905 different +elevations, of which six exceed 15,000 feet, and twenty-two exceed +14,400 feet. The highest summit of all towers to a height of 22,606 +feet above the surface of the lunar disc. At the same period the +examination of the moon was completed. She appeared completely riddled +with craters, and her essentially volcanic character was apparent at +each observation. By the absence of refraction in the rays of the +planets occulted by her we conclude that she is absolutely devoid of an +atmosphere. The absence of air entails the absence of water. It became, +therefore, manifest that the Selenites, to support life under such +conditions, must possess a special organization of their own, must +differ remarkably from the inhabitants of the earth. + +At length, thanks to modern art, instruments of still higher perfection +searched the moon without intermission, not leaving a single point of +her surface unexplored; and notwithstanding that her diameter measures +2,150 miles, her surface equals the one-fifteenth part of that of our +globe, and her bulk the one-forty-ninth part of that of the terrestrial +spheroid—not one of her secrets was able to escape the eyes of the +astronomers; and these skillful men of science carried to an even +greater degree their prodigious observations. + +Thus they remarked that, during full moon, the disc appeared scored in +certain parts with white lines; and, during the phases, with black. On +prosecuting the study of these with still greater precision, they +succeeded in obtaining an exact account of the nature of these lines. +They were long and narrow furrows sunk between parallel ridges, +bordering generally upon the edges of the craters. Their length varied +between ten and 100 miles, and their width was about 1,600 yards. +Astronomers called them chasms, but they could not get any further. +Whether these chasms were the dried-up beds of ancient rivers or not +they were unable thoroughly to ascertain. + +The Americans, among others, hoped one day or other to determine this +geological question. They also undertook to examine the true nature of +that system of parallel ramparts discovered on the moon’s surface by +Gruithuysen, a learned professor of Munich, who considered them to be +“a system of fortifications thrown up by the Selenitic engineers.” +These two points, yet obscure, as well as others, no doubt, could not +be definitely settled except by direct communication with the moon. + +Regarding the degree of intensity of its light, there was nothing more +to learn on this point. It was known that it is 300,000 times weaker +than that of the sun, and that its heat has no appreciable effect upon +the thermometer. As to the phenomenon known as the “ashy light,” it is +explained naturally by the effect of the transmission of the solar rays +from the earth to the moon, which give the appearance of completeness +to the lunar disc, while it presents itself under the crescent form +during its first and last phases. + +Such was the state of knowledge acquired regarding the earth’s +satellite, which the Gun Club undertook to perfect in all its aspects, +cosmographic, geological, political, and moral. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +PERMISSIVE LIMITS OF IGNORANCE AND BELIEF IN THE UNITED STATES + + +The immediate result of Barbicane’s proposition was to place upon the +orders of the day all the astronomical facts relative to the Queen of +the Night. Everybody set to work to study assiduously. One would have +thought that the moon had just appeared for the first time, and that no +one had ever before caught a glimpse of her in the heavens. The papers +revived all the old anecdotes in which the “sun of the wolves” played a +part; they recalled the influences which the ignorance of past ages +ascribed to her; in short, all America was seized with selenomania, or +had become moon-mad. + +The scientific journals, for their part, dealt more especially with the +questions which touched upon the enterprise of the Gun Club. The letter +of the Observatory of Cambridge was published by them, and commented +upon with unreserved approval. + +Until that time most people had been ignorant of the mode in which the +distance which separates the moon from the earth is calculated. They +took advantage of this fact to explain to them that this distance was +obtained by measuring the parallax of the moon. The term parallax +proving “caviare to the general,” they further explained that it meant +the angle formed by the inclination of two straight lines drawn from +either extremity of the earth’s radius to the moon. On doubts being +expressed as to the correctness of this method, they immediately proved +that not only was the mean distance 234,347 miles, but that astronomers +could not possibly be in error in their estimate by more than seventy +miles either way. + +To those who were not familiar with the motions of the moon, they +demonstrated that she possesses two distinct motions, the first being +that of rotation upon her axis, the second being that of revolution +round the earth, accomplishing both together in an equal period of +time, that is to say, in twenty-seven and one-third days. + +The motion of rotation is that which produces day and night on the +surface of the moon; save that there is only one day and one night in +the lunar month, each lasting three hundred and fifty-four and +one-third hours. But, happily for her, the face turned toward the +terrestrial globe is illuminated by it with an intensity equal to that +of fourteen moons. As to the other face, always invisible to us, it has +of necessity three hundred and fifty-four hours of absolute night, +tempered only by that “pale glimmer which falls upon it from the +stars.” + +Some well-intentioned, but rather obstinate persons, could not at first +comprehend how, if the moon displays invariably the same face to the +earth during her revolution, she can describe one turn round herself. +To such they answered, “Go into your dining-room, and walk round the +table in such a way as to always keep your face turned toward the +center; by the time you will have achieved one complete round you will +have completed one turn around yourself, since your eye will have +traversed successively every point of the room. Well, then, the room is +the heavens, the table is the earth, and the moon is yourself.” And +they would go away delighted. + +So, then the moon displays invariably the same face to the earth; +nevertheless, to be quite exact, it is necessary to add that, in +consequence of certain fluctuations of north and south, and of west and +east, termed her libration, she permits rather more than half, that is +to say, five-sevenths, to be seen. + +As soon as the ignoramuses came to understand as much as the director +of the observatory himself knew, they began to worry themselves +regarding her revolution round the earth, whereupon twenty scientific +reviews immediately came to the rescue. They pointed out to them that +the firmament, with its infinitude of stars, may be considered as one +vast dial-plate, upon which the moon travels, indicating the true time +to all the inhabitants of the earth; that it is during this movement +that the Queen of Night exhibits her different phases; that the moon is +_full_ when she is in _opposition_ with the sun, that is when the three +bodies are on the same straight line, the earth occupying the center; +that she is _new_ when she is in _conjunction_ with the sun, that is, +when she is between it and the earth; and, lastly that she is in her +_first_ or _last_ quarter, when she makes with the sun and the earth an +angle of which she herself occupies the apex. + +Regarding the altitude which the moon attains above the horizon, the +letter of the Cambridge Observatory had said all that was to be said in +this respect. Every one knew that this altitude varies according to the +latitude of the observer. But the only zones of the globe in which the +moon passes the zenith, that is, the point directly over the head of +the spectator, are of necessity comprised between the twenty-eighth +parallels and the equator. Hence the importance of the advice to try +the experiment upon some point of that part of the globe, in order that +the projectile might be discharged perpendicularly, and so the soonest +escape the action of gravitation. This was an essential condition to +the success of the enterprise, and continued actively to engage the +public attention. + +Regarding the path described by the moon in her revolution round the +earth, the Cambridge Observatory had demonstrated that this path is a +re-entering curve, not a perfect circle, but an ellipse, of which the +earth occupies one of the _foci_. It was also well understood that it +is farthest removed from the earth during its _apogee_, and approaches +most nearly to it at its _perigee_. + +Such was then the extent of knowledge possessed by every American on +the subject, and of which no one could decently profess ignorance. +Still, while these principles were being rapidly disseminated many +errors and illusory fears proved less easy to eradicate. + +For instance, some worthy persons maintained that the moon was an +ancient comet which, in describing its elongated orbit round the sun, +happened to pass near the earth, and became confined within her circle +of attraction. These drawing-room astronomers professed to explain the +charred aspect of the moon—a disaster which they attributed to the +intensity of the solar heat; only, on being reminded that comets have +an atmosphere, and that the moon has little or none, they were fairly +at a loss for a reply. + +Others again, belonging to the doubting class, expressed certain fears +as to the position of the moon. They had heard it said that, according +to observations made in the time of the Caliphs, her revolution had +become accelerated in a certain degree. Hence they concluded, logically +enough, that an acceleration of motion ought to be accompanied by a +corresponding diminution in the distance separating the two bodies; and +that, supposing the double effect to be continued to infinity, the moon +would end by one day falling into the earth. However, they became +reassured as to the fate of future generations on being apprised that, +according to the calculations of Laplace, this acceleration of motion +is confined within very restricted limits, and that a proportional +diminution of speed will be certain to succeed it. So, then, the +stability of the solar system would not be deranged in ages to come. + +There remains but the third class, the superstitious. These worthies +were not content merely to rest in ignorance; they must know all about +things which had no existence whatever, and as to the moon, they had +long known all about her. One set regarded her disc as a polished +mirror, by means of which people could see each other from different +points of the earth and interchange their thoughts. Another set +pretended that out of one thousand new moons that had been observed, +nine hundred and fifty had been attended with remarkable disturbances, +such as cataclysms, revolutions, earthquakes, the deluge, etc. Then +they believed in some mysterious influence exercised by her over human +destinies—that every Selenite was attached to some inhabitant of the +earth by a tie of sympathy; they maintained that the entire vital +system is subject to her control, etc. But in time the majority +renounced these vulgar errors, and espoused the true side of the +question. As for the Yankees, they had no other ambition than to take +possession of this new continent of the sky, and to plant upon the +summit of its highest elevation the star- spangled banner of the United +States of America. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +THE HYMN OF THE CANNON-BALL + + +The Observatory of Cambridge in its memorable letter had treated the +question from a purely astronomical point of view. The mechanical part +still remained. + +President Barbicane had, without loss of time, nominated a working +committee of the Gun Club. The duty of this committee was to resolve +the three grand questions of the cannon, the projectile, and the +powder. It was composed of four members of great technical knowledge, +Barbicane (with a casting vote in case of equality), General Morgan, +Major Elphinstone, and J. T. Maston, to whom were confided the +functions of secretary. On the 8th of October the committee met at the +house of President Barbicane, 3 Republican Street. The meeting was +opened by the president himself. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, “we have to resolve one of the most important +problems in the whole of the noble science of gunnery. It might appear, +perhaps, the most logical course to devote our first meeting to the +discussion of the engine to be employed. Nevertheless, after mature +consideration, it has appeared to me that the question of the +projectile must take precedence of that of the cannon, and that the +dimensions of the latter must necessarily depend on those of the +former.” + +“Suffer me to say a word,” here broke in J. T. Maston. Permission +having been granted, “Gentlemen,” said he with an inspired accent, “our +president is right in placing the question of the projectile above all +others. The ball we are about to discharge at the moon is our +ambassador to her, and I wish to consider it from a moral point of +view. The cannon-ball, gentlemen, to my mind, is the most magnificent +manifestation of human power. If Providence has created the stars and +the planets, man has called the cannon-ball into existence. Let +Providence claim the swiftness of electricity and of light, of the +stars, the comets, and the planets, of wind and sound—we claim to have +invented the swiftness of the cannon-ball, a hundred times superior to +that of the swiftest horses or railway train. How glorious will be the +moment when, infinitely exceeding all hitherto attained velocities, we +shall launch our new projectile with the rapidity of seven miles a +second! Shall it not, gentlemen—shall it not be received up there with +the honors due to a terrestrial ambassador?” + +Overcome with emotion the orator sat down and applied himself to a huge +plate of sandwiches before him. + +“And now,” said Barbicane, “let us quit the domain of poetry and come +direct to the question.” + +“By all means,” replied the members, each with his mouth full of +sandwich. + +“The problem before us,” continued the president, “is how to +communicate to a projectile a velocity of 12,000 yards per second. Let +us at present examine the velocities hitherto attained. General Morgan +will be able to enlighten us on this point.” + +“And the more easily,” replied the general, “that during the war I was +a member of the committee of experiments. I may say, then, that the +100-pounder Dahlgrens, which carried a distance of 5,000 yards, +impressed upon their projectile an initial velocity of 500 yards a +second. The Rodman Columbiad threw a shot weighing half a ton a +distance of six miles, with a velocity of 800 yards per second—a result +which Armstrong and Palisser have never obtained in England.” + +“This,” replied Barbicane, “is, I believe, the maximum velocity ever +attained?” + +“It is so,” replied the general. + +“Ah!” groaned J. T. Maston, “if my mortar had not burst—” + +“Yes,” quietly replied Barbicane, “but it did burst. We must take, +then, for our starting point, this velocity of 800 yards. We must +increase it twenty-fold. Now, reserving for another discussion the +means of producing this velocity, I will call your attention to the +dimensions which it will be proper to assign to the shot. You +understand that we have nothing to do here with projectiles weighing at +most but half a ton.” + +“Why not?” demanded the major. + +“Because the shot,” quickly replied J. T. Maston, “must be big enough +to attract the attention of the inhabitants of the moon, if there are +any?” + +“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “and for another reason more important +still.” + +“What mean you?” asked the major. + +“I mean that it is not enough to discharge a projectile, and then take +no further notice of it; we must follow it throughout its course, up to +the moment when it shall reach its goal.” + +“What?” shouted the general and the major in great surprise. + +“Undoubtedly,” replied Barbicane composedly, “or our experiment would +produce no result.” + +“But then,” replied the major, “you will have to give this projectile +enormous dimensions.” + +“No! Be so good as to listen. You know that optical instruments have +acquired great perfection; with certain instruments we have succeeded +in obtaining enlargements of 6,000 times and reducing the moon to +within forty miles’ distance. Now, at this distance, any objects sixty +feet square would be perfectly visible. + +“If, then, the penetrative power of telescopes has not been further +increased, it is because that power detracts from their light; and the +moon, which is but a reflecting mirror, does not give back sufficient +light to enable us to perceive objects of lesser magnitude.” + +“Well, then, what do you propose to do?” asked the general. “Would you +give your projectile a diameter of sixty feet?” + +“Not so.” + +“Do you intend, then, to increase the luminous power of the moon?” + +“Exactly so. If I can succeed in diminishing the density of the +atmosphere through which the moon’s light has to travel I shall have +rendered her light more intense. To effect that object it will be +enough to establish a telescope on some elevated mountain. That is what +we will do.” + +“I give it up,” answered the major. “You have such a way of simplifying +things. And what enlargement do you expect to obtain in this way?” + +“One of 48,000 times, which should bring the moon within an apparent +distance of five miles; and, in order to be visible, objects need not +have a diameter of more than nine feet.” + +“So, then,” cried J. T. Maston, “our projectile need not be more than +nine feet in diameter.” + +“Let me observe, however,” interrupted Major Elphinstone, “this will +involve a weight such as—” + +“My dear major,” replied Barbicane, “before discussing its weight +permit me to enumerate some of the marvels which our ancestors have +achieved in this respect. I don’t mean to pretend that the science of +gunnery has not advanced, but it is as well to bear in mind that during +the middle ages they obtained results more surprising, I will venture +to say, than ours. For instance, during the siege of Constantinople by +Mahomet II., in 1453, stone shot of 1,900 pounds weight were employed. +At Malta, in the time of the knights, there was a gun of the fortress +of St. Elmo which threw a projectile weighing 2,500 pounds. And, now, +what is the extent of what we have seen ourselves? Armstrong guns +discharging shot of 500 pounds, and the Rodman guns projectiles of half +a ton! It seems, then, that if projectiles have gained in range, they +have lost far more in weight. Now, if we turn our efforts in that +direction, we ought to arrive, with the progress on science, at ten +times the weight of the shot of Mahomet II. and the Knights of Malta.” + +“Clearly,” replied the major; “but what metal do you calculate upon +employing?” + +“Simply cast iron,” said General Morgan. + +“But,” interrupted the major, “since the weight of a shot is +proportionate to its volume, an iron ball of nine feet in diameter +would be of tremendous weight.” + +“Yes, if it were solid, not if it were hollow.” + +“Hollow? then it would be a shell?” + +“Yes, a shell,” replied Barbicane; “decidely it must be. A solid shot +of 108 inches would weigh more than 200,000 pounds, a weight evidently +far too great. Still, as we must reserve a certain stability for our +projectile, I propose to give it a weight of 20,000 pounds.” + +“What, then, will be the thickness of the sides?” asked the major. + +“If we follow the usual proportion,” replied Morgan, “a diameter of 108 +inches would require sides of two feet thickness, or less.” + +“That would be too much,” replied Barbicane; “for you will observe that +the question is not that of a shot intended to pierce an iron plate; it +will suffice to give it sides strong enough to resist the pressure of +the gas. The problem, therefore, is this—What thickness ought a +cast-iron shell to have in order not to weight more than 20,000 pounds? +Our clever secretary will soon enlighten us upon this point.” + +“Nothing easier.” replied the worthy secretary of the committee; and, +rapidly tracing a few algebraical formulae upon paper, among which _n_2 +and _x_2 frequently appeared, he presently said: + +“The sides will require a thickness of less than two inches.” + +“Will that be enough?” asked the major doubtfully. + +“Clearly not!” replied the president. + +“What is to be done, then?” said Elphinstone, with a puzzled air. + +“Employ another metal instead of iron.” + +“Copper?” said Morgan. + +“No! that would be too heavy. I have better than that to offer.” + +“What then?” asked the major. + +“Aluminum!” replied Barbicane. + +“Aluminum?” cried his three colleagues in chorus. + +“Unquestionably, my friends. This valuable metal possesses the +whiteness of silver, the indestructibility of gold, the tenacity of +iron, the fusibility of copper, the lightness of glass. It is easily +wrought, is very widely distributed, forming the base of most of the +rocks, is three times lighter than iron, and seems to have been created +for the express purpose of furnishing us with the material for our +projectile.” + +“But, my dear president,” said the major, “is not the cost price of +aluminum extremely high?” + +“It was so at its first discovery, but it has fallen now to nine +dollars a pound.” + +“But still, nine dollars a pound!” replied the major, who was not +willing readily to give in; “even that is an enormous price.” + +“Undoubtedly, my dear major; but not beyond our reach.” + +“What will the projectile weigh then?” asked Morgan. + +“Here is the result of my calculations,” replied Barbicane. “A shot of +108 inches in diameter, and twelve inches in thickness, would weigh, in +cast-iron, 67,440 pounds; cast in aluminum, its weight will be reduced +to 19,250 pounds.” + +“Capital!” cried the major; “but do you know that, at nine dollars a +pound, this projectile will cost—” + +“One hundred and seventy-three thousand and fifty dollars ($173,050). I +know it quite well. But fear not, my friends; the money will not be +wanting for our enterprise. I will answer for it. Now what say you to +aluminum, gentlemen?” + +“Adopted!” replied the three members of the committee. So ended the +first meeting. The question of the projectile was definitely settled. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +HISTORY OF THE CANNON + + +The resolutions passed at the last meeting produced a great effect out +of doors. Timid people took fright at the idea of a shot weighing +20,000 pounds being launched into space; they asked what cannon could +ever transmit a sufficient velocity to such a mighty mass. The minutes +of the second meeting were destined triumphantly to answer such +questions. The following evening the discussion was renewed. + +“My dear colleagues,” said Barbicane, without further preamble, “the +subject now before us is the construction of the engine, its length, +its composition, and its weight. It is probable that we shall end by +giving it gigantic dimensions; but however great may be the +difficulties in the way, our mechanical genius will readily surmount +them. Be good enough, then, to give me your attention, and do not +hesitate to make objections at the close. I have no fear of them. The +problem before us is how to communicate an initial force of 12,000 +yards per second to a shell of 108 inches in diameter, weighing 20,000 +pounds. Now when a projectile is launched into space, what happens to +it? It is acted upon by three independent forces: the resistance of the +air, the attraction of the earth, and the force of impulsion with which +it is endowed. Let us examine these three forces. The resistance of the +air is of little importance. The atmosphere of the earth does not +exceed forty miles. Now, with the given rapidity, the projectile will +have traversed this in five seconds, and the period is too brief for +the resistance of the medium to be regarded otherwise than as +insignificant. Proceding, then, to the attraction of the earth, that +is, the weight of the shell, we know that this weight will diminish in +the inverse ratio of the square of the distance. When a body left to +itself falls to the surface of the earth, it falls five feet in the +first second; and if the same body were removed 257,542 miles further +off, in other words, to the distance of the moon, its fall would be +reduced to about half a line in the first second. That is almost +equivalent to a state of perfect rest. Our business, then, is to +overcome progressively this action of gravitation. The mode of +accomplishing that is by the force of impulsion.” + +“There’s the difficulty,” broke in the major. + +“True,” replied the president; “but we will overcome that, for the +force of impulsion will depend on the length of the engine and the +powder employed, the latter being limited only by the resisting power +of the former. Our business, then, to-day is with the dimensions of the +cannon.” + +“Now, up to the present time,” said Barbicane, “our longest guns have +not exceeded twenty-five feet in length. We shall therefore astonish +the world by the dimensions we shall be obliged to adopt. It must +evidently be, then, a gun of great range, since the length of the piece +will increase the detention of the gas accumulated behind the +projectile; but there is no advantage in passing certain limits.” + +“Quite so,” said the major. “What is the rule in such a case?” + +“Ordinarily the length of a gun is twenty to twenty-five times the +diameter of the shot, and its weight two hundred and thirty-five to two +hundred and forty times that of the shot.” + +“That is not enough,” cried J. T. Maston impetuously. + +“I agree with you, my good friend; and, in fact, following this +proportion for a projectile nine feet in diameter, weighing 30,000 +pounds, the gun would only have a length of two hundred and twenty- +five feet, and a weight of 7,200,000 pounds.” + +“Ridiculous!” rejoined Maston. “As well take a pistol.” + +“I think so too,” replied Barbicane; “that is why I propose to +quadruple that length, and to construct a gun of nine hundred feet.” + +The general and the major offered some objections; nevertheless, the +proposition, actively supported by the secretary, was definitely +adopted. + +“But,” said Elphinstone, “what thickness must we give it?” + +“A thickness of six feet,” replied Barbicane. + +“You surely don’t think of mounting a mass like that upon a carriage?” +asked the major. + +“It would be a superb idea, though,” said Maston. + +“But impracticable,” replied Barbicane. “No, I think of sinking this +engine in the earth alone, binding it with hoops of wrought iron, and +finally surrounding it with a thick mass of masonry of stone and +cement. The piece once cast, it must be bored with great precision, so +as to preclude any possible windage. So there will be no loss whatever +of gas, and all the expansive force of the powder will be employed in +the propulsion.” + +“One simple question,” said Elphinstone: “is our gun to be rifled?” + +“No, certainly not,” replied Barbicane; “we require an enormous initial +velocity; and you are well aware that a shot quits a rifled gun less +rapidly than it does a smooth-bore.” + +“True,” rejoined the major. + +The committee here adjourned for a few minutes to tea and sandwiches. + +On the discussion being renewed, “Gentlemen,” said Barbicane, “we must +now take into consideration the metal to be employed. Our cannon must +be possessed of great tenacity, great hardness, be infusible by heat, +indissoluble, and inoxidable by the corrosive action of acids.” + +“There is no doubt about that,” replied the major; “and as we shall +have to employ an immense quantity of metal, we shall not be at a loss +for choice.” + +“Well, then,” said Morgan, “I propose the best alloy hitherto known, +which consists of one hundred parts of copper, twelve of tin, and six +of brass.” + +“I admit,” replied the president, “that this composition has yielded +excellent results, but in the present case it would be too expensive, +and very difficult to work. I think, then, that we ought to adopt a +material excellent in its way and of low price, such as cast iron. What +is your advice, major?” + +“I quite agree with you,” replied Elphinstone. + +“In fact,” continued Barbicane, “cast iron costs ten times less than +bronze; it is easy to cast, it runs readily from the moulds of sand, it +is easy of manipulation, it is at once economical of money and of time. +In addition, it is excellent as a material, and I well remember that +during the war, at the siege of Atlanta, some iron guns fired one +thousand rounds at intervals of twenty minutes without injury.” + +“Cast iron is very brittle, though,” replied Morgan. + +“Yes, but it possesses great resistance. I will now ask our worthy +secretary to calculate the weight of a cast-iron gun with a bore of +nine feet and a thickness of six feet of metal.” + +“In a moment,” replied Maston. Then, dashing off some algebraical +formulae with marvelous facility, in a minute or two he declared the +following result: + +“The cannon will weigh 68,040 tons. And, at two cents a pound, it will +cost—” + +“Two million five hundred and ten thousand seven hundred and one +dollars.” + +Maston, the major, and the general regarded Barbicane with uneasy +looks. + +“Well, gentlemen,” replied the president, “I repeat what I said +yesterday. Make yourselves easy; the millions will not be wanting.” + +With this assurance of their president the committee separated, after +having fixed their third meeting for the following evening. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +THE QUESTION OF THE POWDERS + + +There remained for consideration merely the question of powders. The +public awaited with interest its final decision. The size of the +projectile, the length of the cannon being settled, what would be the +quantity of powder necessary to produce impulsion? + +It is generally asserted that gunpowder was invented in the fourteenth +century by the monk Schwartz, who paid for his grand discovery with his +life. It is, however, pretty well proved that this story ought to be +ranked among the legends of the middle ages. Gunpowder was not invented +by any one; it was the lineal successor of the Greek fire, which, like +itself, was composed of sulfur and saltpeter. Few persons are +acquainted with the mechanical power of gunpowder. Now this is +precisely what is necessary to be understood in order to comprehend the +importance of the question submitted to the committee. + +A litre of gunpowder weighs about two pounds; during combustion it +produces 400 litres of gas. This gas, on being liberated and acted upon +by temperature raised to 2,400 degrees, occupies a space of 4,000 +litres: consequently the volume of powder is to the volume of gas +produced by its combustion as 1 to 4,000. One may judge, therefore, of +the tremendous pressure on this gas when compressed within a space +4,000 times too confined. All this was, of course, well known to the +members of the committee when they met on the following evening. + +The first speaker on this occasion was Major Elphinstone, who had been +the director of the gunpowder factories during the war. + +“Gentlemen,” said this distinguished chemist, “I begin with some +figures which will serve as the basis of our calculation. The old +24-pounder shot required for its discharge sixteen pounds of powder.” + +“You are certain of this amount?” broke in Barbicane. + +“Quite certain,” replied the major. “The Armstrong cannon employs only +seventy-five pounds of powder for a projectile of eight hundred pounds, +and the Rodman Columbiad uses only one hundred and sixty pounds of +powder to send its half ton shot a distance of six miles. These facts +cannot be called in question, for I myself raised the point during the +depositions taken before the committee of artillery.” + +“Quite true,” said the general. + +“Well,” replied the major, “these figures go to prove that the quantity +of powder is not increased with the weight of the shot; that is to say, +if a 24-pounder shot requires sixteen pounds of powder;—in other words, +if in ordinary guns we employ a quantity of powder equal to two-thirds +of the weight of the projectile, this proportion is not constant. +Calculate, and you will see that in place of three hundred and +thirty-three pounds of powder, the quantity is reduced to no more than +one hundred and sixty pounds.” + +“What are you aiming at?” asked the president. + +“If you push your theory to extremes, my dear major,” said J. T. +Maston, “you will get to this, that as soon as your shot becomes +sufficiently heavy you will not require any powder at all.” + +“Our friend Maston is always at his jokes, even in serious matters,” +cried the major; “but let him make his mind easy, I am going presently +to propose gunpowder enough to satisfy his artillerist’s propensities. +I only keep to statistical facts when I say that, during the war, and +for the very largest guns, the weight of the powder was reduced, as the +result of experience, to a tenth part of the weight of the shot.” + +“Perfectly correct,” said Morgan; “but before deciding the quantity of +powder necessary to give the impulse, I think it would be as well—” + +“We shall have to employ a large-grained powder,” continued the major; +“its combustion is more rapid than that of the small.” + +“No doubt about that,” replied Morgan; “but it is very destructive, and +ends by enlarging the bore of the pieces.” + +“Granted; but that which is injurious to a gun destined to perform long +service is not so to our Columbiad. We shall run no danger of an +explosion; and it is necessary that our powder should take fire +instantaneously in order that its mechanical effect may be complete.” + +“We must have,” said Maston, “several touch-holes, so as to fire it at +different points at the same time.” + +“Certainly,” replied Elphinstone; “but that will render the working of +the piece more difficult. I return then to my large-grained powder, +which removes those difficulties. In his Columbiad charges Rodman +employed a powder as large as chestnuts, made of willow charcoal, +simply dried in cast- iron pans. This powder was hard and glittering, +left no trace upon the hand, contained hydrogen and oxygen in large +proportion, took fire instantaneously, and, though very destructive, +did not sensibly injure the mouth-piece.” + +Up to this point Barbicane had kept aloof from the discussion; he left +the others to speak while he himself listened; he had evidently got an +idea. He now simply said, “Well, my friends, what quantity of powder do +you propose?” + +The three members looked at one another. + +“Two hundred thousand pounds.” at last said Morgan. + +“Five hundred thousand,” added the major. + +“Eight hundred thousand,” screamed Maston. + +A moment of silence followed this triple proposal; it was at last +broken by the president. + +“Gentlemen,” he quietly said, “I start from this principle, that the +resistance of a gun, constructed under the given conditions, is +unlimited. I shall surprise our friend Maston, then, by stigmatizing +his calculations as timid; and I propose to double his 800,000 pounds +of powder.” + +“Sixteen hundred thousand pounds?” shouted Maston, leaping from his +seat. + +“Just so.” + +“We shall have to come then to my ideal of a cannon half a mile long; +for you see 1,600,000 pounds will occupy a space of about 20,000 cubic +feet; and since the contents of your cannon do not exceed 54,000 cubic +feet, it would be half full; and the bore will not be more than long +enough for the gas to communicate to the projectile sufficient +impulse.” + +“Nevertheless,” said the president, “I hold to that quantity of powder. +Now, 1,600,000 pounds of powder will create 6,000,000,000 litres of +gas. Six thousand millions! You quite understand?” + +“What is to be done then?” said the general. + +“The thing is very simple; we must reduce this enormous quantity of +powder, while preserving to it its mechanical power.” + +“Good; but by what means?” + +“I am going to tell you,” replied Barbicane quietly. + +“Nothing is more easy than to reduce this mass to one quarter of its +bulk. You know that curious cellular matter which constitutes the +elementary tissues of vegetable? This substance is found quite pure in +many bodies, especially in cotton, which is nothing more than the down +of the seeds of the cotton plant. Now cotton, combined with cold nitric +acid, become transformed into a substance eminently insoluble, +combustible, and explosive. It was first discovered in 1832, by +Braconnot, a French chemist, who called it xyloidine. In 1838 another +Frenchman, Pelouze, investigated its different properties, and finally, +in 1846, Schonbein, professor of chemistry at Bale, proposed its +employment for purposes of war. This powder, now called pyroxyle, or +fulminating cotton, is prepared with great facility by simply plunging +cotton for fifteen minutes in nitric acid, then washing it in water, +then drying it, and it is ready for use.” + +“Nothing could be more simple,” said Morgan. + +“Moreover, pyroxyle is unaltered by moisture—a valuable property to us, +inasmuch as it would take several days to charge the cannon. It ignites +at 170 degrees in place of 240, and its combustion is so rapid that one +may set light to it on the top of the ordinary powder, without the +latter having time to ignite.” + +“Perfect!” exclaimed the major. + +“Only it is more expensive.” + +“What matter?” cried J. T. Maston. + +“Finally, it imparts to projectiles a velocity four times superior to +that of gunpowder. I will even add, that if we mix it with one-eighth +of its own weight of nitrate of potassium, its expansive force is again +considerably augmented.” + +“Will that be necessary?” asked the major. + +“I think not,” replied Barbicane. “So, then, in place of 1,600,000 +pounds of powder, we shall have but 400,000 pounds of fulminating +cotton; and since we can, without danger, compress 500 pounds of cotton +into twenty-seven cubic feet, the whole quantity will not occupy a +height of more than 180 feet within the bore of the Columbiad. In this +way the shot will have more than 700 feet of bore to traverse under a +force of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas before taking its flight toward +the moon.” + +At this juncture J. T. Maston could not repress his emotion; he flung +himself into the arms of his friend with the violence of a projectile, +and Barbicane would have been stove in if he had not been boom-proof. + +This incident terminated the third meeting of the committee. + +Barbicane and his bold colleagues, to whom nothing seemed impossible, +had succeeding in solving the complex problems of projectile, cannon, +and powder. Their plan was drawn up, and it only remained to put it +into execution. + +“A mere matter of detail, a bagatelle,” said J. T. Maston. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +ONE ENEMY _v._ TWENTY-FIVE MILLIONS OF FRIENDS + + +The American public took a lively interest in the smallest details of +the enterprise of the Gun Club. It followed day by day the discussion +of the committee. The most simple preparations for the great +experiment, the questions of figures which it involved, the mechanical +difficulties to be resolved—in one word, the entire plan of work—roused +the popular excitement to the highest pitch. + +The purely scientific attraction was suddenly intensified by the +following incident: + +We have seen what legions of admirers and friends Barbicane’s project +had rallied round its author. There was, however, one single individual +alone in all the States of the Union who protested against the attempt +of the Gun Club. He attacked it furiously on every opportunity, and +human nature is such that Barbicane felt more keenly the opposition of +that one man than he did the applause of all the others. He was well +aware of the motive of this antipathy, the origin of this solitary +enmity, the cause of its personality and old standing, and in what +rivalry of self-love it had its rise. + +This persevering enemy the president of the Gun Club had never seen. +Fortunate that it was so, for a meeting between the two men would +certainly have been attended with serious consequences. This rival was +a man of science, like Barbicane himself, of a fiery, daring, and +violent disposition; a pure Yankee. His name was Captain Nicholl; he +lived at Philadelphia. + +Most people are aware of the curious struggle which arose during the +Federal war between the guns and armor of iron-plated ships. The result +was the entire reconstruction of the navy of both the continents; as +the one grew heavier, the other became thicker in proportion. The +Merrimac, the Monitor, the Tennessee, the Weehawken discharged enormous +projectiles themselves, after having been armor-clad against the +projectiles of others. In fact they did to others that which they would +not they should do to them—that grand principle of immortality upon +which rests the whole art of war. + +Now if Barbicane was a great founder of shot, Nicholl was a great +forger of plates; the one cast night and day at Baltimore, the other +forged day and night at Philadelphia. As soon as ever Barbicane +invented a new shot, Nicholl invented a new plate; each followed a +current of ideas essentially opposed to the other. Happily for these +citizens, so useful to their country, a distance of from fifty to sixty +miles separated them from one another, and they had never yet met. +Which of these two inventors had the advantage over the other it was +difficult to decide from the results obtained. By last accounts, +however, it would seem that the armor-plate would in the end have to +give way to the shot; nevertheless, there were competent judges who had +their doubts on the point. + +At the last experiment the cylindro-conical projectiles of Barbicane +stuck like so many pins in the Nicholl plates. On that day the +Philadelphia iron-forger then believed himself victorious, and could +not evince contempt enough for his rival; but when the other afterward +substituted for conical shot simple 600-pound shells, at very moderate +velocity, the captain was obliged to give in. In fact, these +projectiles knocked his best metal plate to shivers. + +Matters were at this stage, and victory seemed to rest with the shot, +when the war came to an end on the very day when Nicholl had completed +a new armor-plate of wrought steel. It was a masterpiece of its kind, +and bid defiance to all the projectiles of the world. The captain had +it conveyed to the Polygon at Washington, challenging the president of +the Gun Club to break it. Barbicane, peace having been declared, +declined to try the experiment. + +Nicholl, now furious, offered to expose his plate to the shock of any +shot, solid, hollow, round, or conical. Refused by the president, who +did not choose to compromise his last success. + +Nicholl, disgusted by this obstinacy, tried to tempt Barbicane by +offering him every chance. He proposed to fix the plate within two +hundred yards of the gun. Barbicane still obstinate in refusal. A +hundred yards? Not even seventy-five! + +“At fifty then!” roared the captain through the newspapers. “At +twenty-five yards! and I’ll stand behind!” + +Barbicane returned for answer that, even if Captain Nicholl would be so +good as to stand in front, he would not fire any more. + +Nicholl could not contain himself at this reply; threw out hints of +cowardice; that a man who refused to fire a cannon-shot was pretty near +being afraid of it; that artillerists who fight at six miles distance +are substituting mathematical formulae for individual courage. + +To these insinuations Barbicane returned no answer; perhaps he never +heard of them, so absorbed was he in the calculations for his great +enterprise. + +When his famous communication was made to the Gun Club, the captain’s +wrath passed all bounds; with his intense jealousy was mingled a +feeling of absolute impotence. How was he to invent anything to beat +this 900-feet Columbiad? What armor-plate could ever resist a +projectile of 30,000 pounds weight? Overwhelmed at first under this +violent shock, he by and by recovered himself, and resolved to crush +the proposal by weight of his arguments. + +He then violently attacked the labors of the Gun Club, published a +number of letters in the newspapers, endeavored to prove Barbicane +ignorant of the first principles of gunnery. He maintained that it was +absolutely impossible to impress upon any body whatever a velocity of +12,000 yards per second; that even with such a velocity a projectile of +such a weight could not transcend the limits of the earth’s atmosphere. +Further still, even regarding the velocity to be acquired, and granting +it to be sufficient, the shell could not resist the pressure of the gas +developed by the ignition of 1,600,000 pounds of powder; and supposing +it to resist that pressure, it would be less able to support that +temperature; it would melt on quitting the Columbiad, and fall back in +a red-hot shower upon the heads of the imprudent spectators. + +Barbicane continued his work without regarding these attacks. + +Nicholl then took up the question in its other aspects. Without +touching upon its uselessness in all points of view, he regarded the +experiment as fraught with extreme danger, both to the citizens, who +might sanction by their presence so reprehensible a spectacle, and also +to the towns in the neighborhood of this deplorable cannon. He also +observed that if the projectile did not succeed in reaching its +destination (a result absolutely impossible), it must inevitably fall +back upon the earth, and that the shock of such a mass, multiplied by +the square of its velocity, would seriously endanger every point of the +globe. Under the circumstances, therefore, and without interfering with +the rights of free citizens, it was a case for the intervention of +Government, which ought not to endanger the safety of all for the +pleasure of one individual. + +In spite of all his arguments, however, Captain Nicholl remained alone +in his opinion. Nobody listened to him, and he did not succeed in +alienating a single admirer from the president of the Gun Club. The +latter did not even take the pains to refute the arguments of his +rival. + +Nicholl, driven into his last entrenchments, and not able to fight +personally in the cause, resolved to fight with money. He published, +therefore, in the Richmond _Inquirer_ a series of wagers, conceived in +these terms, and on an increasing scale: + +No. 1 ($1,000).—That the necessary funds for the experiment of the Gun +Club will not be forthcoming. + +No. 2 ($2,000).—That the operation of casting a cannon of 900 feet is +impracticable, and cannot possibly succeed. + +No. 3 ($3,000).—That is it impossible to load the Columbiad, and that +the pyroxyle will take fire spontaneously under the pressure of the +projectile. + +No. 4 ($4,000).—That the Columbiad will burst at the first fire. + +No. 5 ($5,000).—That the shot will not travel farther than six miles, +and that it will fall back again a few seconds after its discharge. + +It was an important sum, therefore, which the captain risked in his +invincible obstinacy. He had no less than $15,000 at stake. + +Notwithstanding the importance of the challenge, on the 19th of May he +received a sealed packet containing the following superbly laconic +reply: + +“BALTIMORE, October 19. +”Done. +”BARBICANE.” + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +FLORIDA AND TEXAS + + +One question remained yet to be decided; it was necessary to choose a +favorable spot for the experiment. According to the advice of the +Observatory of Cambridge, the gun must be fired perpendicularly to the +plane of the horizon, that is to say, toward the zenith. Now the moon +does not traverse the zenith, except in places situated between 0° and +28° of latitude. It became, then, necessary to determine exactly that +spot on the globe where the immense Columbiad should be cast. + +On the 20th of October, at a general meeting of the Gun Club, Barbicane +produced a magnificent map of the United States. “Gentlemen,” said he, +in opening the discussion, “I presume that we are all agreed that this +experiment cannot and ought not to be tried anywhere but within the +limits of the soil of the Union. Now, by good fortune, certain +frontiers of the United States extend downward as far as the 28th +parallel of the north latitude. If you will cast your eye over this +map, you will see that we have at our disposal the whole of the +southern portion of Texas and Florida.” + +It was finally agreed, then, that the Columbiad must be cast on the +soil of either Texas or Florida. The result, however, of this decision +was to create a rivalry entirely without precedent between the +different towns of these two States. + +The 28th parallel, on reaching the American coast, traverses the +peninsula of Florida, dividing it into two nearly equal portions. Then, +plunging into the Gulf of Mexico, it subtends the arc formed by the +coast of Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana; then skirting Texas, off +which it cuts an angle, it continues its course over Mexico, crosses +the Sonora, Old California, and loses itself in the Pacific Ocean. It +was, therefore, only those portions of Texas and Florida which were +situated below this parallel which came within the prescribed +conditions of latitude. + +Florida, in its southern part, reckons no cities of importance; it is +simply studded with forts raised against the roving Indians. One +solitary town, Tampa Town, was able to put in a claim in favor of its +situation. + +In Texas, on the contrary, the towns are much more numerous and +important. Corpus Christi, in the county of Nueces, and all the cities +situated on the Rio Bravo, Laredo, Comalites, San Ignacio on the Web, +Rio Grande City on the Starr, Edinburgh in the Hidalgo, Santa Rita, +Elpanda, Brownsville in the Cameron, formed an imposing league against +the pretensions of Florida. So, scarcely was the decision known, when +the Texan and Floridan deputies arrived at Baltimore in an incredibly +short space of time. From that very moment President Barbicane and the +influential members of the Gun Club were besieged day and night by +formidable claims. If seven cities of Greece contended for the honor of +having given birth to a Homer, here were two entire States threatening +to come to blows about the question of a cannon. + +The rival parties promenaded the streets with arms in their hands; and +at every occasion of their meeting a collision was to be apprehended +which might have been attended with disastrous results. Happily the +prudence and address of President Barbicane averted the danger. These +personal demonstrations found a division in the newspapers of the +different States. The New York _Herald_ and the _Tribune_ supported +Texas, while the _Times_ and the _American Review_ espoused the cause +of the Floridan deputies. The members of the Gun Club could not decide +to which to give the preference. + +Texas produced its array of twenty-six counties; Florida replied that +twelve counties were better than twenty-six in a country only one-sixth +part of the size. + +Texas plumed itself upon its 330,000 natives; Florida, with a far +smaller territory, boasted of being much more densely populated with +56,000. + +The Texans, through the columns of the _Herald_ claimed that some +regard should be had to a State which grew the best cotton in all +America, produced the best green oak for the service of the navy, and +contained the finest oil, besides iron mines, in which the yield was +fifty per cent. of pure metal. + +To this the _American Review_ replied that the soil of Florida, +although not equally rich, afforded the best conditions for the +moulding and casting of the Columbiad, consisting as it did of sand and +argillaceous earth. + +“That may be all very well,” replied the Texans; “but you must first +get to this country. Now the communications with Florida are difficult, +while the coast of Texas offers the bay of Galveston, which possesses a +circumference of fourteen leagues, and is capable of containing the +navies of the entire world!” + +“A pretty notion truly,” replied the papers in the interest of Florida, +“that of Galveston bay _below the 29th parallel!_ Have we not got the +bay of Espiritu Santo, opening precisely upon _the 28th degree_, and by +which ships can reach Tampa Town by direct route?” + +“A fine bay; half choked with sand!” + +“Choked yourselves!” returned the others. + +Thus the war went on for several days, when Florida endeavored to draw +her adversary away on to fresh ground; and one morning the _Times_ +hinted that, the enterprise being essentially American, it ought not to +be attempted upon other than purely American territory. + +To these words Texas retorted, “American! are we not as much so as you? +Were not Texas and Florida both incorporated into the Union in 1845?” + +“Undoubtedly,” replied the _Times_; “but we have belonged to the +Americans ever since 1820.” + +“Yes!” returned the _Tribune_; “after having been Spaniards or English +for two hundred years, you were sold to the United States for five +million dollars!” + +“Well! and why need we blush for that? Was not Louisiana bought from +Napoleon in 1803 at the price of sixteen million dollars?” + +“Scandalous!” roared the Texas deputies. “A wretched little strip of +country like Florida to dare to compare itself to Texas, who, in place +of selling herself, asserted her own independence, drove out the +Mexicans in March 2, 1846, and declared herself a federal republic +after the victory gained by Samuel Houston, on the banks of the San +Jacinto, over the troops of Santa Anna!—a country, in fine, which +voluntarily annexed itself to the United States of America!” + +“Yes; because it was afraid of the Mexicans!” replied Florida. + +“Afraid!” From this moment the state of things became intolerable. A +sanguinary encounter seemed daily imminent between the two parties in +the streets of Baltimore. It became necessary to keep an eye upon the +deputies. + +President Barbicane knew not which way to look. Notes, documents, +letters full of menaces showered down upon his house. Which side ought +he to take? As regarded the appropriation of the soil, the facility of +communication, the rapidity of transport, the claims of both States +were evenly balanced. As for political prepossessions, they had nothing +to do with the question. + +This dead block had existed for some little time, when Barbicane +resolved to get rid of it all at once. He called a meeting of his +colleagues, and laid before them a proposition which, it will be seen, +was profoundly sagacious. + +“On carefully considering,” he said, “what is going on now between +Florida and Texas, it is clear that the same difficulties will recur +with all the towns of the favored State. The rivalry will descend from +State to city, and so on downward. Now Texas possesses eleven towns +within the prescribed conditions, which will further dispute the honor +and create us new enemies, while Florida has only one. I go in, +therefore, for Florida and Tampa Town.” + +This decision, on being made known, utterly crushed the Texan deputies. +Seized with an indescribable fury, they addressed threatening letters +to the different members of the Gun Club by name. The magistrates had +but one course to take, and they took it. They chartered a special +train, forced the Texans into it whether they would or no; and they +quitted the city with a speed of thirty miles an hour. + +Quickly, however, as they were despatched, they found time to hurl one +last and bitter sarcasm at their adversaries. + +Alluding to the extent of Florida, a mere peninsula confined between +two seas, they pretended that it could never sustain the shock of the +discharge, and that it would “bust up” at the very first shot. + +“Very well, let it bust up!” replied the Floridans, with a brevity of +the days of ancient Sparta. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +URBI ET ORBI + + +The astronomical, mechanical, and topographical difficulties resolved, +finally came the question of finance. The sum required was far too +great for any individual, or even any single State, to provide the +requisite millions. + +President Barbicane undertook, despite of the matter being a purely +American affair, to render it one of universal interest, and to request +the financial co-operation of all peoples. It was, he maintained, the +right and duty of the whole earth to interfere in the affairs of its +satellite. The subscription opened at Baltimore extended properly to +the whole world—_Urbi et orbi_. + +This subscription was successful beyond all expectation; +notwithstanding that it was a question not of lending but of giving the +money. It was a purely disinterested operation in the strictest sense +of the term, and offered not the slightest chance of profit. + +The effect, however, of Barbicane’s communication was not confined to +the frontiers of the United States; it crossed the Atlantic and +Pacific, invading simultaneously Asia and Europe, Africa and Oceanica. +The observatories of the Union placed themselves in immediate +communication with those of foreign countries. Some, such as those of +Paris, Petersburg, Berlin, Stockholm, Hamburg, Malta, Lisbon, Benares, +Madras, and others, transmitted their good wishes; the rest maintained +a prudent silence, quietly awaiting the result. As for the observatory +at Greenwich, seconded as it was by the twenty- two astronomical +establishments of Great Britain, it spoke plainly enough. It boldly +denied the possibility of success, and pronounced in favor of the +theories of Captain Nicholl. But this was nothing more than mere +English jealousy. + +On the 8th of October President Barbicane published a manifesto full of +enthusiasm, in which he made an appeal to “all persons of good will +upon the face of the earth.” This document, translated into all +languages, met with immense success. + +Subscription lists were opened in all the principal cities of the +Union, with a central office at the Baltimore Bank, 9 Baltimore Street. + +In addition, subscriptions were received at the following banks in the +different states of the two continents: + +At Vienna, with S. M. de Rothschild. +At Petersburg, Stieglitz and Co. +At Paris, The Credit Mobilier. +At Stockholm, Tottie and Arfuredson. +At London, N. M. Rothschild and Son. +At Turin, Ardouin and Co. +At Berlin, Mendelssohn. +At Geneva, Lombard, Odier and Co. +At Constantinople, The Ottoman Bank. +At Brussels, J. Lambert. +At Madrid, Daniel Weisweller. +At Amsterdam, Netherlands Credit Co. +At Rome, Torlonia and Co. +At Lisbon, Lecesne. +At Copenhagen, Private Bank. +At Rio de Janeiro, Private Bank. +At Montevideo, Private Bank. +At Valparaiso and Lima, Thomas la Chambre and Co. +At Mexico, Martin Daran and Co. + + +Three days after the manifesto of President Barbicane $4,000,000 were +paid into the different towns of the Union. With such a balance the Gun +Club might begin operations at once. But some days later advices were +received to the effect that foreign subscriptions were being eagerly +taken up. Certain countries distinguished themselves by their +liberality; others untied their purse-strings with less facility—a +matter of temperament. Figures are, however, more eloquent than words, +and here is the official statement of the sums which were paid in to +the credit of the Gun Club at the close of the subscription. + +Russia paid in as her contingent the enormous sum of 368,733 roubles. +No one need be surprised at this, who bears in mind the scientific +taste of the Russians, and the impetus which they have given to +astronomical studies—thanks to their numerous observatories. + +France began by deriding the pretensions of the Americans. The moon +served as a pretext for a thousand stale puns and a score of ballads, +in which bad taste contested the palm with ignorance. But as formerly +the French paid before singing, so now they paid after having had their +laugh, and they subscribed for a sum of 1,253,930 francs. At that price +they had a right to enjoy themselves a little. + +Austria showed herself generous in the midst of her financial crisis. +Her public contributions amounted to the sum of 216,000 florins—a +perfect godsend. + +Fifty-two thousand rix-dollars were the remittance of Sweden and +Norway; the amount is large for the country, but it would undoubtedly +have been considerably increased had the subscription been opened in +Christiana simultaneously with that at Stockholm. For some reason or +other the Norwegians do not like to send their money to Sweden. + +Prussia, by a remittance of 250,000 thalers, testified her high +approval of the enterprise. + +Turkey behaved generously; but she had a personal interest in the +matter. The moon, in fact, regulates the cycle of her years and her +fast of Ramadan. She could not do less than give 1,372,640 piastres; +and she gave them with an eagerness which denoted, however, some +pressure on the part of the government. + +Belgium distinguished herself among the second-rate states by a grant +of 513,000 francs—about two centimes per head of her population. + +Holland and her colonies interested themselves to the extent of 110,000 +florins, only demanding an allowance of five per cent. discount for +paying ready money. + +Denmark, a little contracted in territory, gave nevertheless 9,000 +ducats, proving her love for scientific experiments. + +The Germanic Confederation pledged itself to 34,285 florins. It was +impossible to ask for more; besides, they would not have given it. + +Though very much crippled, Italy found 200,000 lire in the pockets of +her people. If she had had Venetia she would have done better; but she +had not. + +The States of the Church thought that they could not send less than +7,040 Roman crowns; and Portugal carried her devotion to science as far +as 30,000 cruzados. It was the widow’s mite—eighty-six piastres; but +self-constituted empires are always rather short of money. + +Two hundred and fifty-seven francs, this was the modest contribution of +Switzerland to the American work. One must freely admit that she did +not see the practical side of the matter. It did not seem to her that +the mere despatch of a shot to the moon could possibly establish any +relation of affairs with her; and it did not seem prudent to her to +embark her capital in so hazardous an enterprise. After all, perhaps +she was right. + +As to Spain, she could not scrape together more than 110 reals. She +gave as an excuse that she had her railways to finish. The truth is, +that science is not favorably regarded in that country, it is still in +a backward state; and moreover, certain Spaniards, not by any means the +least educated, did not form a correct estimate of the bulk of the +projectile compared with that of the moon. They feared that it would +disturb the established order of things. In that case it were better to +keep aloof; which they did to the tune of some reals. + +There remained but England; and we know the contemptuous antipathy with +which she received Barbicane’s proposition. The English have but one +soul for the whole twenty-six millions of inhabitants which Great +Britain contains. They hinted that the enterprise of the Gun Club was +contrary to the “principle of non-intervention.” And they did not +subscribe a single farthing. + +At this intimation the Gun Club merely shrugged its shoulders and +returned to its great work. When South America, that is to say, Peru, +Chili, Brazil, the provinces of La Plata and Columbia, had poured forth +their quota into their hands, the sum of $300,000, it found itself in +possession of a considerable capital, of which the following is a +statement: + + United States subscriptions, . . $4,000,000 + Foreign subscriptions . . . . . . . $1,446,675 + —————— + Total, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $5,446,675 + + +Such was the sum which the public poured into the treasury of the Gun +Club. + +Let no one be surprised at the vastness of the amount. The work of +casting, boring, masonry, the transport of workmen, their establishment +in an almost uninhabited country, the construction of furnaces and +workshops, the plant, the powder, the projectile, and incipient +expenses, would, according to the estimates, absorb nearly the whole. +Certain cannon-shots in the Federal war cost one thousand dollars +apiece. This one of President Barbicane, unique in the annals of +gunnery, might well cost five thousand times more. + +On the 20th of October a contract was entered into with the manufactory +at Coldspring, near New York, which during the war had furnished the +largest Parrott, cast-iron guns. It was stipulated between the +contracting parties that the manufactory of Coldspring should engage to +transport to Tampa Town, in southern Florida, the necessary materials +for casting the Columbiad. The work was bound to be completed at latest +by the 15th of October following, and the cannon delivered in good +condition under penalty of a forfeit of one hundred dollars a day to +the moment when the moon should again present herself under the same +conditions—that is to say, in eighteen years and eleven days. + +The engagement of the workmen, their pay, and all the necessary details +of the work, devolved upon the Coldspring Company. + +This contract, executed in duplicate, was signed by Barbicane, +president of the Gun Club, of the one part, and T. Murchison director +of the Coldspring manufactory, of the other, who thus executed the deed +on behalf of their respective principals. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +STONES HILL + + +When the decision was arrived at by the Gun Club, to the disparagement +of Texas, every one in America, where reading is a universal +acquirement, set to work to study the geography of Florida. Never +before had there been such a sale for works like “Bertram’s Travels in +Florida,” “Roman’s Natural History of East and West Florida,” +“William’s Territory of Florida,” and “Cleland on the Cultivation of +the Sugar-Cane in Florida.” It became necessary to issue fresh editions +of these works. + +Barbicane had something better to do than to read. He desired to see +things with his own eyes, and to mark the exact position of the +proposed gun. So, without a moment’s loss of time, he placed at the +disposal of the Cambridge Observatory the funds necessary for the +construction of a telescope, and entered into negotiations with the +house of Breadwill and Co., of Albany, for the construction of an +aluminum projectile of the required size. He then quitted Baltimore, +accompanied by J. T. Maston, Major Elphinstone, and the manager of the +Coldspring factory. + +On the following day, the four fellow-travelers arrived at New Orleans. +There they immediately embarked on board the _Tampico_, a despatch-boat +belonging to the Federal navy, which the government had placed at their +disposal; and, getting up steam, the banks of Louisiana speedily +disappeared from sight. + +The passage was not long. Two days after starting, the _Tampico_, +having made four hundred and eighty miles, came in sight of the coast +of Florida. On a nearer approach Barbicane found himself in view of a +low, flat country of somewhat barren aspect. After coasting along a +series of creeks abounding in lobsters and oysters, the _Tampico_ +entered the bay of Espiritu Santo, where she finally anchored in a +small natural harbor, formed by the _embouchure_ of the River +Hillisborough, at seven P.M., on the 22d of October. + +Our four passengers disembarked at once. “Gentlemen,” said Barbicane, +“we have no time to lose; tomorrow we must obtain horses, and proceed +to reconnoiter the country.” + +Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three thousand of the +inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth to meet him, an honor due to the +president who had signalized their country by his choice. + +Declining, however, every kind of ovation, Barbicane ensconced himself +in a room of the Franklin Hotel. + +On the morrow some of the small horses of the Spanish breed, full of +vigor and of fire, stood snorting under his windows; but instead of +four steeds, here were fifty, together with their riders. Barbicane +descended with his three fellow- travelers; and much astonished were +they all to find themselves in the midst of such a cavalcade. He +remarked that every horseman carried a carbine slung across his +shoulders and pistols in his holsters. + +On expressing his surprise at these preparations, he was speedily +enlightened by a young Floridan, who quietly said: + +“Sir, there are Seminoles there.” + +“What do you mean by Seminoles?” + +“Savages who scour the prairies. We thought it best, therefore, to +escort you on your road.” + +“Pooh!” cried J. T. Maston, mounting his steed. + +“All right,” said the Floridan; “but it is true enough, nevertheless.” + +“Gentlemen,” answered Barbicane, “I thank you for your kind attention; +but it is time to be off.” + +It was five A.M. when Barbicane and his party, quitting Tampa Town, +made their way along the coast in the direction of Alifia Creek. This +little river falls into Hillisborough Bay twelve miles above Tampa +Town. Barbicane and his escort coasted along its right bank to the +eastward. Soon the waves of the bay disappeared behind a bend of rising +ground, and the Floridan “champagne” alone offered itself to view. + +Florida, discovered on Palm Sunday, in 1512, by Juan Ponce de Leon, was +originally named _Pascha Florida_. It little deserved that designation, +with its dry and parched coasts. But after some few miles of tract the +nature of the soil gradually changes and the country shows itself +worthy of the name. Cultivated plains soon appear, where are united all +the productions of the northern and tropical floras, terminating in +prairies abounding with pineapples and yams, tobacco, rice, +cotton-plants, and sugar-canes, which extend beyond reach of sight, +flinging their riches broadcast with careless prodigality. + +Barbicane appeared highly pleased on observing the progressive +elevation of the land; and in answer to a question of J. T. Maston, +replied: + +“My worthy friend, we cannot do better than sink our Columbiad in these +high grounds.” + +“To get nearer the moon, perhaps?” said the secretary of the Gun Club. + +“Not exactly,” replied Barbicane, smiling; “do you not see that among +these elevated plateaus we shall have a much easier work of it? No +struggles with the water-springs, which will save us long expensive +tubings; and we shall be working in daylight instead of down a deep and +narrow well. Our business, then, is to open our trenches upon ground +some hundreds of yards above the level of the sea.” + +“You are right, sir,” struck in Murchison, the engineer; “and, if I +mistake not, we shall ere long find a suitable spot for our purpose.” + +“I wish we were at the first stroke of the pickaxe,” said the +president. + +“And I wish we were at the _last_,” cried J. T. Maston. + +About ten A.M. the little band had crossed a dozen miles. To fertile +plains succeeded a region of forests. There perfumes of the most varied +kinds mingled together in tropical profusion. These almost impenetrable +forests were composed of pomegranates, orange-trees, citrons, figs, +olives, apricots, bananas, huge vines, whose blossoms and fruits +rivaled each other in color and perfume. Beneath the odorous shade of +these magnificent trees fluttered and warbled a little world of +brilliantly plumaged birds. + +J. T. Maston and the major could not repress their admiration on +finding themselves in the presence of the glorious beauties of this +wealth of nature. President Barbicane, however, less sensitive to these +wonders, was in haste to press forward; the very luxuriance of the +country was displeasing to him. They hastened onward, therefore, and +were compelled to ford several rivers, not without danger, for they +were infested with huge alligators from fifteen to eighteen feet long. +Maston courageously menaced them with his steel hook, but he only +succeeded in frightening some pelicans and teal, while tall flamingos +stared stupidly at the party. + +At length these denizens of the swamps disappeared in their turn; +smaller trees became thinly scattered among less dense thickets—a few +isolated groups detached in the midst of endless plains over which +ranged herds of startled deer. + +“At last,” cried Barbicane, rising in his stirrups, “here we are at the +region of pines!” + +“Yes! and of savages too,” replied the major. + +In fact, some Seminoles had just came in sight upon the horizon; they +rode violently backward and forward on their fleet horses, brandishing +their spears or discharging their guns with a dull report. These +hostile demonstrations, however, had no effect upon Barbicane and his +companions. + +They were then occupying the center of a rocky plain, which the sun +scorched with its parching rays. This was formed by a considerable +elevation of the soil, which seemed to offer to the members of the Gun +Club all the conditions requisite for the construction of their +Columbiad. + +“Halt!” said Barbicane, reining up. “Has this place any local +appellation?” + +“It is called Stones Hill,” replied one of the Floridans. + +Barbicane, without saying a word, dismounted, seized his instruments, +and began to note his position with extreme exactness. The little band, +drawn up in the rear, watched his proceedings in profound silence. + +At this moment the sun passed the meridian. Barbicane, after a few +moments, rapidly wrote down the result of his observations, and said: + +“This spot is situated eighteen hundred feet above the level of the +sea, in 27° 7′ N. lat. and 5° 7′ W. long. of the meridian of +Washington. It appears to me by its rocky and barren character to offer +all the conditions requisite for our experiment. On that plain will be +raised our magazines, workshops, furnaces, and workmen’s huts; and +here, from this very spot,” said he, stamping his foot on the summit of +Stones Hill, “hence shall our projectile take its flight into the +regions of the Solar World.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +PICKAXE AND TROWEL + + +The same evening Barbicane and his companions returned to Tampa Town; +and Murchison, the engineer, re-embarked on board the Tampico for New +Orleans. His object was to enlist an army of workmen, and to collect +together the greater part of the materials. The members of the Gun Club +remained at Tampa Town, for the purpose of setting on foot the +preliminary works by the aid of the people of the country. + +Eight days after its departure, the Tampico returned into the bay of +Espiritu Santo, with a whole flotilla of steamboats. Murchison had +succeeded in assembling together fifteen hundred artisans. Attracted by +the high pay and considerable bounties offered by the Gun Club, he had +enlisted a choice legion of stokers, iron-founders, lime-burners, +miners, brickmakers, and artisans of every trade, without distinction +of color. As many of these people brought their families with them, +their departure resembled a perfect emigration. + +On the 31st of October, at ten o’clock in the morning, the troop +disembarked on the quays of Tampa Town; and one may imagine the +activity which pervaded that little town, whose population was thus +doubled in a single day. + +During the first few days they were busy discharging the cargo brought +by the flotilla, the machines, and the rations, as well as a large +number of huts constructed of iron plates, separately pieced and +numbered. At the same period Barbicane laid the first sleepers of a +railway fifteen miles in length, intended to unite Stones Hill with +Tampa Town. On the first of November Barbicane quitted Tampa Town with +a detachment of workmen; and on the following day the whole town of +huts was erected round Stones Hill. This they enclosed with palisades; +and in respect of energy and activity, it might have been mistaken for +one of the great cities of the Union. Everything was placed under a +complete system of discipline, and the works were commenced in most +perfect order. + +The nature of the soil having been carefully examined, by means of +repeated borings, the work of excavation was fixed for the 4th of +November. + +On that day Barbicane called together his foremen and addressed them as +follows: “You are well aware, my friends, of the object with which I +have assembled you together in this wild part of Florida. Our business +is to construct a cannon measuring nine feet in its interior diameter, +six feet thick, and with a stone revetment of nineteen and a half feet +in thickness. We have, therefore, a well of sixty feet in diameter to +dig down to a depth of nine hundred feet. This great work must be +completed within eight months, so that you have 2,543,400 cubic feet of +earth to excavate in 255 days; that is to say, in round numbers, 2,000 +cubic feet per day. That which would present no difficulty to a +thousand navvies working in open country will be of course more +troublesome in a comparatively confined space. However, the thing must +be done, and I reckon for its accomplishment upon your courage as much +as upon your skill.” + +At eight o’clock the next morning the first stroke of the pickaxe was +struck upon the soil of Florida; and from that moment that prince of +tools was never inactive for one moment in the hands of the excavators. +The gangs relieved each other every three hours. + +On the 4th of November fifty workmen commenced digging, in the very +center of the enclosed space on the summit of Stones Hill, a circular +hole sixty feet in diameter. The pickaxe first struck upon a kind of +black earth, six inches in thickness, which was speedily disposed of. +To this earth succeeded two feet of fine sand, which was carefully laid +aside as being valuable for serving the casting of the inner mould. +After the sand appeared some compact white clay, resembling the chalk +of Great Britain, which extended down to a depth of four feet. Then the +iron of the picks struck upon the hard bed of the soil; a kind of rock +formed of petrified shells, very dry, very solid, and which the picks +could with difficulty penetrate. At this point the excavation exhibited +a depth of six and a half feet and the work of the masonry was begun. + +At the bottom of the excavation they constructed a wheel of oak, a kind +of circle strongly bolted together, and of immense strength. The center +of this wooden disc was hollowed out to a diameter equal to the +exterior diameter of the Columbiad. Upon this wheel rested the first +layers of the masonry, the stones of which were bound together by +hydraulic cement, with irresistible tenacity. The workmen, after laying +the stones from the circumference to the center, were thus enclosed +within a kind of well twenty-one feet in diameter. When this work was +accomplished, the miners resumed their picks and cut away the rock from +underneath the wheel itself, taking care to support it as they advanced +upon blocks of great thickness. At every two feet which the hole gained +in depth they successively withdrew the blocks. The wheel then sank +little by little, and with it the massive ring of masonry, on the upper +bed of which the masons labored incessantly, always reserving some vent +holes to permit the escape of gas during the operation of the casting. + +This kind of work required on the part of the workmen extreme nicety +and minute attention. More than one, in digging underneath the wheel, +was dangerously injured by the splinters of stone. But their ardor +never relaxed, night or day. By day they worked under the rays of the +scorching sun; by night, under the gleam of the electric light. The +sounds of the picks against the rock, the bursting of mines, the +grinding of the machines, the wreaths of smoke scattered through the +air, traced around Stones Hill a circle of terror which the herds of +buffaloes and the war parties of the Seminoles never ventured to pass. +Nevertheless, the works advanced regularly, as the steam-cranes +actively removed the rubbish. Of unexpected obstacles there was little +account; and with regard to foreseen difficulties, they were speedily +disposed of. + +At the expiration of the first month the well had attained the depth +assigned for that lapse of time, namely, 112 feet. This depth was +doubled in December, and trebled in January. + +During the month of February the workmen had to contend with a sheet of +water which made its way right across the outer soil. It became +necessary to employ very powerful pumps and compressed-air engines to +drain it off, so as to close up the orifice from whence it issued; just +as one stops a leak on board ship. They at last succeeded in getting +the upper hand of these untoward streams; only, in consequence of the +loosening of the soil, the wheel partly gave way, and a slight partial +settlement ensued. This accident cost the life of several workmen. + +No fresh occurrence thenceforward arrested the progress of the +operation; and on the tenth of June, twenty days before the expiration +of the period fixed by Barbicane, the well, lined throughout with its +facing of stone, had attained the depth of 900 feet. At the bottom the +masonry rested upon a massive block measuring thirty feet in thickness, +while on the upper portion it was level with the surrounding soil. + +President Barbicane and the members of the Gun Club warmly +congratulated their engineer Murchison; the cyclopean work had been +accomplished with extraordinary rapidity. + +During these eight months Barbicane never quitted Stones Hill for a +single instant. Keeping ever close by the work of excavation, he busied +himself incessantly with the welfare and health of his workpeople, and +was singularly fortunate in warding off the epidemics common to large +communities of men, and so disastrous in those regions of the globe +which are exposed to the influences of tropical climates. + +Many workmen, it is true, paid with their lives for the rashness +inherent in these dangerous labors; but these mishaps are impossible to +be avoided, and they are classed among the details with which the +Americans trouble themselves but little. They have in fact more regard +for human nature in general than for the individual in particular. + +Nevertheless, Barbicane professed opposite principles to these, and put +them in force at every opportunity. So, thanks to his care, his +intelligence, his useful intervention in all difficulties, his +prodigious and humane sagacity, the average of accidents did not exceed +that of transatlantic countries, noted for their excessive +precautions—France, for instance, among others, where they reckon about +one accident for every two hundred thousand francs of work. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +THE FETE OF THE CASTING + + +During the eight months which were employed in the work of excavation +the preparatory works of the casting had been carried on simultaneously +with extreme rapidity. A stranger arriving at Stones Hill would have +been surprised at the spectacle offered to his view. + +At 600 yards from the well, and circularly arranged around it as a +central point, rose 1,200 reverberating ovens, each six feet in +diameter, and separated from each other by an interval of three feet. +The circumference occupied by these 1,200 ovens presented a length of +two miles. Being all constructed on the same plan, each with its high +quadrangular chimney, they produced a most singular effect. + +It will be remembered that on their third meeting the committee had +decided to use cast iron for the Columbiad, and in particular the white +description. This metal, in fact, is the most tenacious, the most +ductile, and the most malleable, and consequently suitable for all +moulding operations; and when smelted with pit coal, is of superior +quality for all engineering works requiring great resisting power, such +as cannon, steam boilers, hydraulic presses, and the like. + +Cast iron, however, if subjected to only one single fusion, is rarely +sufficiently homogeneous; and it requires a second fusion completely to +refine it by dispossessing it of its last earthly deposits. So long +before being forwarded to Tampa Town, the iron ore, molten in the great +furnaces of Coldspring, and brought into contact with coal and silicium +heated to a high temperature, was carburized and transformed into cast +iron. After this first operation, the metal was sent on to Stones Hill. +They had, however, to deal with 136,000,000 pounds of iron, a quantity +far too costly to send by railway. The cost of transport would have +been double that of material. It appeared preferable to freight vessels +at New York, and to load them with the iron in bars. This, however, +required not less than sixty- eight vessels of 1,000 tons, a veritable +fleet, which, quitting New York on the 3rd of May, on the 10th of the +same month ascended the Bay of Espiritu Santo, and discharged their +cargoes, without dues, in the port at Tampa Town. Thence the iron was +transported by rail to Stones Hill, and about the middle of January +this enormous mass of metal was delivered at its destination. + +It will easily be understood that 1,200 furnaces were not too many to +melt simultaneously these 60,000 tons of iron. Each of these furnaces +contained nearly 140,000 pounds weight of metal. They were all built +after the model of those which served for the casting of the Rodman +gun; they were trapezoidal in shape, with a high elliptical arch. These +furnaces, constructed of fireproof brick, were especially adapted for +burning pit coal, with a flat bottom upon which the iron bars were +laid. This bottom, inclined at an angle of 25 degrees, allowed the +metal to flow into the receiving troughs; and the 1,200 converging +trenches carried the molten metal down to the central well. + +The day following that on which the works of the masonry and boring had +been completed, Barbicane set to work upon the central mould. His +object now was to raise within the center of the well, and with a +coincident axis, a cylinder 900 feet high, and nine feet in diameter, +which should exactly fill up the space reserved for the bore of the +Columbiad. This cylinder was composed of a mixture of clay and sand, +with the addition of a little hay and straw. The space left between the +mould and the masonry was intended to be filled up by the molten metal, +which would thus form the walls six feet in thickness. This cylinder, +in order to maintain its equilibrium, had to be bound by iron bands, +and firmly fixed at certain intervals by cross-clamps fastened into the +stone lining; after the castings these would be buried in the block of +metal, leaving no external projection. + +This operation was completed on the 8th of July, and the run of the +metal was fixed for the following day. + +“This _fete_ of the casting will be a grand ceremony,” said J. T. +Maston to his friend Barbicane. + +“Undoubtedly,” said Barbicane; “but it will not be a public _fete_“ + +“What! will you not open the gates of the enclosure to all comers?” + +“I must be very careful, Maston. The casting of the Columbiad is an +extremely delicate, not to say a dangerous operation, and I should +prefer its being done privately. At the discharge of the projectile, a +_fete_ if you like—till then, no!” + +The president was right. The operation involved unforeseen dangers, +which a great influx of spectators would have hindered him from +averting. It was necessary to preserve complete freedom of movement. No +one was admitted within the enclosure except a delegation of members of +the Gun Club, who had made the voyage to Tampa Town. Among these was +the brisk Bilsby, Tom Hunter, Colonel Blomsberry, Major Elphinstone, +General Morgan, and the rest of the lot to whom the casting of the +Columbiad was a matter of personal interest. J. T. Maston became their +cicerone. He omitted no point of detail; he conducted them throughout +the magazines, workshops, through the midst of the engines, and +compelled them to visit the whole 1,200 furnaces one after the other. +At the end of the twelve-hundredth visit they were pretty well knocked +up. + +The casting was to take place at twelve o’clock precisely. The previous +evening each furnace had been charged with 114,000 pounds weight of +metal in bars disposed cross-ways to each other, so as to allow the hot +air to circulate freely between them. At daybreak the 1,200 chimneys +vomited their torrents of flame into the air, and the ground was +agitated with dull tremblings. As many pounds of metal as there were to +cast, so many pounds of coal were there to burn. Thus there were 68,000 +tons of coal which projected in the face of the sun a thick curtain of +smoke. The heat soon became insupportable within the circle of +furnaces, the rumbling of which resembled the rolling of thunder. The +powerful ventilators added their continuous blasts and saturated with +oxygen the glowing plates. The operation, to be successful, required to +be conducted with great rapidity. On a signal given by a cannon-shot +each furnace was to give vent to the molten iron and completely to +empty itself. These arrangements made, foremen and workmen waited the +preconcerted moment with an impatience mingled with a certain amount of +emotion. Not a soul remained within the enclosure. Each superintendent +took his post by the aperture of the run. + +Barbicane and his colleagues, perched on a neighboring eminence, +assisted at the operation. In front of them was a piece of artillery +ready to give fire on the signal from the engineer. Some minutes before +midday the first driblets of metal began to flow; the reservoirs filled +little by little; and, by the time that the whole melting was +completely accomplished, it was kept in abeyance for a few minutes in +order to facilitate the separation of foreign substances. + +Twelve o’clock struck! A gunshot suddenly pealed forth and shot its +flame into the air. Twelve hundred melting-troughs were simultaneously +opened and twelve hundred fiery serpents crept toward the central well, +unrolling their incandescent curves. There, down they plunged with a +terrific noise into a depth of 900 feet. It was an exciting and a +magnificent spectacle. The ground trembled, while these molten waves, +launching into the sky their wreaths of smoke, evaporated the moisture +of the mould and hurled it upward through the vent-holes of the stone +lining in the form of dense vapor-clouds. These artificial clouds +unrolled their thick spirals to a height of 1,000 yards into the air. A +savage, wandering somewhere beyond the limits of the horizon, might +have believed that some new crater was forming in the bosom of Florida, +although there was neither any eruption, nor typhoon, nor storm, nor +struggle of the elements, nor any of those terrible phenomena which +nature is capable of producing. No, it was man alone who had produced +these reddish vapors, these gigantic flames worthy of a volcano itself, +these tremendous vibrations resembling the shock of an earthquake, +these reverberations rivaling those of hurricanes and storms; and it +was his hand which precipitated into an abyss, dug by himself, a whole +Niagara of molten metal! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +THE COLUMBIAD + + +Had the casting succeeded? They were reduced to mere conjecture. There +was indeed every reason to expect success, since the mould has absorbed +the entire mass of the molten metal; still some considerable time must +elapse before they could arrive at any certainty upon the matter. + +The patience of the members of the Gun Club was sorely tried during +this period of time. But they could do nothing. J. T. Maston escaped +roasting by a miracle. Fifteen days after the casting an immense column +of smoke was still rising in the open sky and the ground burned the +soles of the feet within a radius of two hundred feet round the summit +of Stones Hill. It was impossible to approach nearer. All they could do +was to wait with what patience they might. + +“Here we are at the 10th of August,” exclaimed J. T. Maston one +morning, “only four months to the 1st of December! We shall never be +ready in time!” Barbicane said nothing, but his silence covered serious +irritation. + +However, daily observations revealed a certain change going on in the +state of the ground. About the 15th of August the vapors ejected had +sensibly diminished in intensity and thickness. Some days afterward the +earth exhaled only a slight puff of smoke, the last breath of the +monster enclosed within its circle of stone. Little by little the belt +of heat contracted, until on the 22nd of August, Barbicane, his +colleagues, and the engineer were enabled to set foot on the iron sheet +which lay level upon the summit of Stones Hill. + +“At last!” exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, with an immense +sigh of relief. + +The work was resumed the same day. They proceeded at once to extract +the interior mould, for the purpose of clearing out the boring of the +piece. Pickaxes and boring irons were set to work without intermission. +The clayey and sandy soils had acquired extreme hardness under the +action of the heat; but, by the aid of the machines, the rubbish on +being dug out was rapidly carted away on railway wagons; and such was +the ardor of the work, so persuasive the arguments of Barbicane’s +dollars, that by the 3rd of September all traces of the mould had +entirely disappeared. + +Immediately the operation of boring was commenced; and by the aid of +powerful machines, a few weeks later, the inner surface of the immense +tube had been rendered perfectly cylindrical, and the bore of the piece +had acquired a thorough polish. + +At length, on the 22d of September, less than a twelvemonth after +Barbicane’s original proposition, the enormous weapon, accurately +bored, and exactly vertically pointed, was ready for work. There was +only the moon now to wait for; and they were pretty sure that she would +not fail in the rendezvous. + +The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew no bounds, and he narrowly escaped a +frightful fall while staring down the tube. But for the strong hand of +Colonel Blomsberry, the worthy secretary, like a modern Erostratus, +would have found his death in the depths of the Columbiad. + +The cannon was then finished; there was no possible doubt as to its +perfect completion. So, on the 6th of October, Captain Nicholl opened +an account between himself and President Barbicane, in which he debited +himself to the latter in the sum of two thousand dollars. One may +believe that the captain’s wrath was increased to its highest point, +and must have made him seriously ill. However, he had still three bets +of three, four, and five thousand dollars, respectively; and if he +gained two out of these, his position would not be very bad. But the +money question did not enter into his calculations; it was the success +of his rival in casting a cannon against which iron plates sixty feet +thick would have been ineffectual, that dealt him a terrible blow. + +After the 23rd of September the enclosure of Stones hill was thrown +open to the public; and it will be easily imagined what was the +concourse of visitors to this spot! There was an incessant flow of +people to and from Tampa Town and the place, which resembled a +procession, or rather, in fact, a pilgrimage. + +It was already clear to be seen that, on the day of the experiment +itself, the aggregate of spectators would be counted by millions; for +they were already arriving from all parts of the earth upon this narrow +strip of promontory. Europe was emigrating to America. + +Up to that time, however, it must be confessed, the curiosity of the +numerous comers was but scantily gratified. Most had counted upon +witnessing the spectacle of the casting, and they were treated to +nothing but smoke. This was sorry food for hungry eyes; but Barbicane +would admit no one to that operation. Then ensued grumbling, +discontent, murmurs; they blamed the president, taxed him with +dictatorial conduct. His proceedings were declared “un-American.” There +was very nearly a riot round Stones Hill; but Barbicane remained +inflexible. When, however, the Columbiad was entirely finished, this +state of closed doors could no longer be maintained; besides it would +have been bad taste, and even imprudence, to affront the public +feeling. Barbicane, therefore, opened the enclosure to all comers; but, +true to his practical disposition, he determined to coin money out of +the public curiosity. + +It was something, indeed, to be enabled to contemplate this immense +Columbiad; but to descend into its depths, this seemed to the Americans +the _ne plus ultra_ of earthly felicity. Consequently, there was not +one curious spectator who was not willing to give himself the treat of +visiting the interior of this great metallic abyss. Baskets suspended +from steam-cranes permitted them to satisfy their curiosity. There was +a perfect mania. Women, children, old men, all made it a point of duty +to penetrate the mysteries of the colossal gun. The fare for the +descent was fixed at five dollars per head; and despite this high +charge, during the two months which preceded the experiment, the influx +of visitors enabled the Gun Club to pocket nearly five hundred thousand +dollars! + +It is needless to say that the first visitors of the Columbiad were the +members of the Gun Club. This privilege was justly reserved for that +illustrious body. The ceremony took place on the 25th of September. A +basket of honor took down the president, J. T. Maston, Major +Elphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and other members of +the club, to the number of ten in all. How hot it was at the bottom of +that long tube of metal! They were half suffocated. But what delight! +What ecstasy! A table had been laid with six covers on the massive +stone which formed the bottom of the Columbiad, and lighted by a jet of +electric light resembling that of day itself. Numerous exquisite +dishes, which seemed to descend from heaven, were placed successively +before the guests, and the richest wines of France flowed in profusion +during this splendid repast, served nine hundred feet beneath the +surface of the earth! + +The festival was animated, not to say somewhat noisy. Toasts flew +backward and forward. They drank to the earth and to her satellite, to +the Gun Club, the Union, the Moon, Diana, Phoebe, Selene, the “peaceful +courier of the night!” All the hurrahs, carried upward upon the +sonorous waves of the immense acoustic tube, arrived with the sound of +thunder at its mouth; and the multitude ranged round Stones Hill +heartily united their shouts with those of the ten revelers hidden from +view at the bottom of the gigantic Columbiad. + +J. T. Maston was no longer master of himself. Whether he shouted or +gesticulated, ate or drank most, would be a difficult matter to +determine. At all events, he would not have given his place up for an +empire, “not even if the cannon—loaded, primed, and fired at that very +moment—were to blow him in pieces into the planetary world.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +A TELEGRAPHIC DISPATCH + + +The great works undertaken by the Gun Club had now virtually come to an +end; and two months still remained before the day for the discharge of +the shot to the moon. To the general impatience these two months +appeared as long as years! Hitherto the smallest details of the +operation had been daily chronicled by the journals, which the public +devoured with eager eyes. + +Just at this moment a circumstance, the most unexpected, the most +extraordinary and incredible, occurred to rouse afresh their panting +spirits, and to throw every mind into a state of the most violent +excitement. + +One day, the 30th of September, at 3:47 P.M., a telegram, transmitted +by cable from Valentia (Ireland) to Newfoundland and the American +Mainland, arrived at the address of President Barbicane. + +The president tore open the envelope, read the dispatch, and, despite +his remarkable powers of self-control, his lips turned pale and his +eyes grew dim, on reading the twenty words of this telegram. + +Here is the text of the dispatch, which figures now in the archives of +the Gun Club: + +FRANCE, PARIS, +30 September, 4 A.M. + + + Barbicane, Tampa Town, Florida, United States. + Substitute for your spherical shell a cylindro-conical projectile. + I shall go inside. Shall arrive by steamer Atlanta. + + +MICHEL ARDAN. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +THE PASSENGER OF THE ATLANTA + + +If this astounding news, instead of flying through the electric wires, +had simply arrived by post in the ordinary sealed envelope, Barbicane +would not have hesitated a moment. He would have held his tongue about +it, both as a measure of prudence, and in order not to have to +reconsider his plans. This telegram might be a cover for some jest, +especially as it came from a Frenchman. What human being would ever +have conceived the idea of such a journey? and, if such a person really +existed, he must be an idiot, whom one would shut up in a lunatic ward, +rather than within the walls of the projectile. + +The contents of the dispatch, however, speedily became known; for the +telegraphic officials possessed but little discretion, and Michel +Ardan’s proposition ran at once throughout the several States of the +Union. Barbicane, had, therefore, no further motives for keeping +silence. Consequently, he called together such of his colleagues as +were at the moment in Tampa Town, and without any expression of his own +opinions simply read to them the laconic text itself. It was received +with every possible variety of expressions of doubt, incredulity, and +derision from every one, with the exception of J. T. Maston, who +exclaimed, “It is a grand idea, however!” + +When Barbicane originally proposed to send a shot to the moon every one +looked upon the enterprise as simple and practicable enough—a mere +question of gunnery; but when a person, professing to be a reasonable +being, offered to take passage within the projectile, the whole thing +became a farce, or, in plainer language a humbug. + +One question, however, remained. Did such a being exist? This telegram +flashed across the depths of the Atlantic, the designation of the +vessel on board which he was to take his passage, the date assigned for +his speedy arrival, all combined to impart a certain character of +reality to the proposal. They must get some clearer notion of the +matter. Scattered groups of inquirers at length condensed themselves +into a compact crowd, which made straight for the residence of +President Barbicane. That worthy individual was keeping quiet with the +intention of watching events as they arose. But he had forgotten to +take into account the public impatience; and it was with no pleasant +countenance that he watched the population of Tampa Town gathering +under his windows. The murmurs and vociferations below presently +obliged him to appear. He came forward, therefore, and on silence being +procured, a citizen put point-blank to him the following question: “Is +the person mentioned in the telegram, under the name of Michel Ardan, +on his way here? Yes or no.” + +“Gentlemen,” replied Barbicane, “I know no more than you do.” + +“We must know,” roared the impatient voices. + +“Time will show,” calmly replied the president. + +“Time has no business to keep a whole country in suspense,” replied the +orator. “Have you altered the plans of the projectile according to the +request of the telegram?” + +“Not yet, gentlemen; but you are right! we must have better information +to go by. The telegraph must complete its information.” + +“To the telegraph!” roared the crowd. + +Barbicane descended; and heading the immense assemblage, led the way to +the telegraph office. A few minutes later a telegram was dispatched to +the secretary of the underwriters at Liverpool, requesting answers to +the following queries: + +“About the ship Atlanta—when did she leave Europe? Had she on board a +Frenchman named Michel Ardan?” + +Two hours afterward Barbicane received information too exact to leave +room for the smallest remaining doubt. + +“The steamer Atlanta from Liverpool put to sea on the 2nd of October, +bound for Tampa Town, having on board a Frenchman borne on the list of +passengers by the name of Michel Ardan.” + +That very evening he wrote to the house of Breadwill and Co., +requesting them to suspend the casting of the projectile until the +receipt of further orders. On the 10th of October, at nine A.M., the +semaphores of the Bahama Canal signaled a thick smoke on the horizon. +Two hours later a large steamer exchanged signals with them. the name +of the Atlanta flew at once over Tampa Town. At four o’clock the +English vessel entered the Bay of Espiritu Santo. At five it crossed +the passage of Hillisborough Bay at full steam. At six she cast anchor +at Port Tampa. The anchor had scarcely caught the sandy bottom when +five hundred boats surrounded the Atlanta, and the steamer was taken by +assault. Barbicane was the first to set foot on deck, and in a voice of +which he vainly tried to conceal the emotion, called “Michel Ardan.” + +“Here!” replied an individual perched on the poop. + +Barbicane, with arms crossed, looked fixedly at the passenger of the +Atlanta. + +He was a man of about forty-two years of age, of large build, but +slightly round-shouldered. His massive head momentarily shook a shock +of reddish hair, which resembled a lion’s mane. His face was short with +a broad forehead, and furnished with a moustache as bristly as a cat’s, +and little patches of yellowish whiskers upon full cheeks. Round, +wildish eyes, slightly near-sighted, completed a physiognomy +essentially feline. His nose was firmly shaped, his mouth particularly +sweet in expression, high forehead, intelligent and furrowed with +wrinkles like a newly-plowed field. The body was powerfully developed +and firmly fixed upon long legs. Muscular arms, and a general air of +decision gave him the appearance of a hardy, jolly, companion. He was +dressed in a suit of ample dimensions, loose neckerchief, open +shirtcollar, disclosing a robust neck; his cuffs were invariably +unbuttoned, through which appeared a pair of red hands. + +On the bridge of the steamer, in the midst of the crowd, he bustled to +and fro, never still for a moment, “dragging his anchors,” as the +sailors say, gesticulating, making free with everybody, biting his +nails with nervous avidity. He was one of those originals which nature +sometimes invents in the freak of a moment, and of which she then +breaks the mould. + +Among other peculiarities, this curiosity gave himself out for a +sublime ignoramus, “like Shakespeare,” and professed supreme contempt +for all scientific men. Those “fellows,” as he called them, “are only +fit to mark the points, while we play the game.” He was, in fact, a +thorough Bohemian, adventurous, but not an adventurer; a hare-brained +fellow, a kind of Icarus, only possessing relays of wings. For the +rest, he was ever in scrapes, ending invariably by falling on his feet, +like those little figures which they sell for children’s toys. In a few +words, his motto was “I have my opinions,” and the love of the +impossible constituted his ruling passion. + +Such was the passenger of the Atlanta, always excitable, as if boiling +under the action of some internal fire by the character of his physical +organization. If ever two individuals offered a striking contrast to +each other, these were certainly Michel Ardan and the Yankee Barbicane; +both, moreover, being equally enterprising and daring, each in his own +way. + +The scrutiny which the president of the Gun Club had instituted +regarding this new rival was quickly interrupted by the shouts and +hurrahs of the crowd. The cries became at last so uproarious, and the +popular enthusiasm assumed so personal a form, that Michel Ardan, after +having shaken hands some thousands of times, at the imminent risk of +leaving his fingers behind him, was fain at last to make a bolt for his +cabin. + +Barbicane followed him without uttering a word. + +“You are Barbicane, I suppose?” said Michel Ardan, in a tone of voice +in which he would have addressed a friend of twenty years’ standing. + +“Yes,” replied the president of the Gun Club. + +“All right! how d’ye do, Barbicane? how are you getting on—pretty well? +that’s right.” + +“So,” said Barbicane without further preliminary, “you are quite +determined to go.” + +“Quite decided.” + +“Nothing will stop you?” + +“Nothing. Have you modified your projectile according to my telegram.” + +“I waited for your arrival. But,” asked Barbicane again, “have you +carefully reflected?” + +“Reflected? have I any time to spare? I find an opportunity of making a +tour in the moon, and I mean to profit by it. There is the whole gist +of the matter.” + +Barbicane looked hard at this man who spoke so lightly of his project +with such complete absence of anxiety. “But, at least,” said he, “you +have some plans, some means of carrying your project into execution?” + +“Excellent, my dear Barbicane; only permit me to offer one remark: My +wish is to tell my story once for all, to everybody, and then have done +with it; then there will be no need for recapitulation. So, if you have +no objection, assemble your friends, colleagues, the whole town, all +Florida, all America if you like, and to-morrow I shall be ready to +explain my plans and answer any objections whatever that may be +advanced. You may rest assured I shall wait without stirring. Will that +suit you?” + +“All right,” replied Barbicane. + +So saying, the president left the cabin and informed the crowd of the +proposal of Michel Ardan. His words were received with clappings of +hands and shouts of joy. They had removed all difficulties. To-morrow +every one would contemplate at his ease this European hero. However, +some of the spectators, more infatuated than the rest, would not leave +the deck of the Atlanta. They passed the night on board. Among others +J. T. Maston got his hook fixed in the combing of the poop, and it +pretty nearly required the capstan to get it out again. + +“He is a hero! a hero!” he cried, a theme of which he was never tired +of ringing the changes; “and we are only like weak, silly women, +compared with this European!” + +As to the president, after having suggested to the visitors it was time +to retire, he re-entered the passenger’s cabin, and remained there till +the bell of the steamer made it midnight. + +But then the two rivals in popularity shook hands heartily and parted +on terms of intimate friendship. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +A MONSTER MEETING + + +On the following day Barbicane, fearing that indiscreet questions might +be put to Michel Ardan, was desirous of reducing the number of the +audience to a few of the initiated, his own colleagues for instance. He +might as well have tried to check the Falls of Niagara! he was +compelled, therefore, to give up the idea, and let his new friend run +the chances of a public conference. The place chosen for this monster +meeting was a vast plain situated in the rear of the town. In a few +hours, thanks to the help of the shipping in port, an immense roofing +of canvas was stretched over the parched prairie, and protected it from +the burning rays of the sun. There three hundred thousand people braved +for many hours the stifling heat while awaiting the arrival of the +Frenchman. Of this crowd of spectators a first set could both see and +hear; a second set saw badly and heard nothing at all; and as for the +third, it could neither see nor hear anything at all. At three o’clock +Michel Ardan made his appearance, accompanied by the principal members +of the Gun Club. He was supported on his right by President Barbicane, +and on his left by J. T. Maston, more radiant than the midday sun, and +nearly as ruddy. Ardan mounted a platform, from the top of which his +view extended over a sea of black hats. + +He exhibited not the slightest embarrassment; he was just as gay, +familiar, and pleasant as if he were at home. To the hurrahs which +greeted him he replied by a graceful bow; then, waving his hands to +request silence, he spoke in perfectly correct English as follows: + +“Gentlemen, despite the very hot weather I request your patience for a +short time while I offer some explanations regarding the projects which +seem to have so interested you. I am neither an orator nor a man of +science, and I had no idea of addressing you in public; but my friend +Barbicane has told me that you would like to hear me, and I am quite at +your service. Listen to me, therefore, with your six hundred thousand +ears, and please excuse the faults of the speaker. Now pray do not +forget that you see before you a perfect ignoramus whose ignorance goes +so far that he cannot even understand the difficulties! It seemed to +him that it was a matter quite simple, natural, and easy to take one’s +place in a projectile and start for the moon! That journey must be +undertaken sooner or later; and, as for the mode of locomotion adopted, +it follows simply the law of progress. Man began by walking on +all-fours; then, one fine day, on two feet; then in a carriage; then in +a stage-coach; and lastly by railway. Well, the projectile is the +vehicle of the future, and the planets themselves are nothing else! Now +some of you, gentlemen, may imagine that the velocity we propose to +impart to it is extravagant. It is nothing of the kind. All the stars +exceed it in rapidity, and the earth herself is at this moment carrying +us round the sun at three times as rapid a rate, and yet she is a mere +lounger on the way compared with many others of the planets! And her +velocity is constantly decreasing. Is it not evident, then, I ask you, +that there will some day appear velocities far greater than these, of +which light or electricity will probably be the mechanical agent? + +“Yes, gentlemen,” continued the orator, “in spite of the opinions of +certain narrow-minded people, who would shut up the human race upon +this globe, as within some magic circle which it must never outstep, we +shall one day travel to the moon, the planets, and the stars, with the +same facility, rapidity, and certainty as we now make the voyage from +Liverpool to New York! Distance is but a relative expression, and must +end by being reduced to zero.” + +The assembly, strongly predisposed as they were in favor of the French +hero, were slightly staggered at this bold theory. Michel Ardan +perceived the fact. + +“Gentlemen,” he continued with a pleasant smile, “you do not seem quite +convinced. Very good! Let us reason the matter out. Do you know how +long it would take for an express train to reach the moon? Three +hundred days; no more! And what is that? The distance is no more than +nine times the circumference of the earth; and there are no sailors or +travelers, of even moderate activity, who have not made longer journeys +than that in their lifetime. And now consider that I shall be only +ninety- seven hours on my journey. Ah! I see you are reckoning that the +moon is a long way off from the earth, and that one must think twice +before making the experiment. What would you say, then, if we were +talking of going to Neptune, which revolves at a distance of more than +two thousand seven hundred and twenty millions of miles from the sun! +And yet what is that compared with the distance of the fixed stars, +some of which, such as Arcturus, are billions of miles distant from us? +And then you talk of the distance which separates the planets from the +sun! And there are people who affirm that such a thing as distance +exists. Absurdity, folly, idiotic nonsense! Would you know what I think +of our own solar universe? Shall I tell you my theory? It is very +simple! In my opinion the solar system is a solid homogeneous body; the +planets which compose it are in actual contact with each other; and +whatever space exists between them is nothing more than the space which +separates the molecules of the densest metal, such as silver, iron, or +platinum! I have the right, therefore, to affirm, and I repeat, with +the conviction which must penetrate all your minds, ‘Distance is but an +empty name; distance does not really exist!’” + +“Hurrah!” cried one voice (need it be said it was that of J. T. +Maston). “Distance does not exist!” And overcome by the energy of his +movements, he nearly fell from the platform to the ground. He just +escaped a severe fall, which would have proved to him that distance was +by no means an empty name. + +“Gentlemen,” resumed the orator, “I repeat that the distance between +the earth and her satellite is a mere trifle, and undeserving of +serious consideration. I am convinced that before twenty years are over +one-half of our earth will have paid a visit to the moon. Now, my +worthy friends, if you have any question to put to me, you will, I +fear, sadly embarrass a poor man like myself; still I will do my best +to answer you.” + +Up to this point the president of the Gun Club had been satisfied with +the turn which the discussion had assumed. It became now, however, +desirable to divert Ardan from questions of a practical nature, with +which he was doubtless far less conversant. Barbicane, therefore, +hastened to get in a word, and began by asking his new friend whether +he thought that the moon and the planets were inhabited. + +“You put before me a great problem, my worthy president,” replied the +orator, smiling. “Still, men of great intelligence, such as Plutarch, +Swedenborg, Bernardin de St. Pierre, and others have, if I mistake not, +pronounced in the affirmative. Looking at the question from the natural +philosopher’s point of view, I should say that nothing useless existed +in the world; and, replying to your question by another, I should +venture to assert, that if these worlds are habitable, they either are, +have been, or will be inhabited.” + +“No one could answer more logically or fairly,” replied the president. +“The question then reverts to this: Are these worlds habitable? For my +own part I believe they are.” + +“For myself, I feel certain of it,” said Michel Ardan. + +“Nevertheless,” retorted one of the audience, “there are many arguments +against the habitability of the worlds. The conditions of life must +evidently be greatly modified upon the majority of them. To mention +only the planets, we should be either broiled alive in some, or frozen +to death in others, according as they are more or less removed from the +sun.” + +“I regret,” replied Michel Ardan, “that I have not the honor of +personally knowing my contradictor, for I would have attempted to +answer him. His objection has its merits, I admit; but I think we may +successfully combat it, as well as all others which affect the +habitability of other worlds. If I were a natural philosopher, I would +tell him that if less of caloric were set in motion upon the planets +which are nearest to the sun, and more, on the contrary, upon those +which are farthest removed from it, this simple fact would alone +suffice to equalize the heat, and to render the temperature of those +worlds supportable by beings organized like ourselves. If I were a +naturalist, I would tell him that, according to some illustrious men of +science, nature has furnished us with instances upon the earth of +animals existing under very varying conditions of life; that fish +respire in a medium fatal to other animals; that amphibious creatures +possess a double existence very difficult of explanation; that certain +denizens of the seas maintain life at enormous depths, and there +support a pressure equal to that of fifty or sixty atmospheres without +being crushed; that several aquatic insects, insensible to temperature, +are met with equally among boiling springs and in the frozen plains of +the Polar Sea; in fine, that we cannot help recognizing in nature a +diversity of means of operation oftentimes incomprehensible, but not +the less real. If I were a chemist, I would tell him that the +aerolites, bodies evidently formed exteriorly of our terrestrial globe, +have, upon analysis, revealed indisputable traces of carbon, a +substance which owes its origin solely to organized beings, and which, +according to the experiments of Reichenbach, must necessarily itself +have been endued with animation. And lastly, were I a theologian, I +would tell him that the scheme of the Divine Redemption, according to +St. Paul, seems to be applicable, not merely to the earth, but to all +the celestial worlds. But, unfortunately, I am neither theologian, nor +chemist, nor naturalist, nor philosopher; therefore, in my absolute +ignorance of the great laws which govern the universe, I confine myself +to saying in reply, ‘I do not know whether the worlds are inhabited or +not: and since I do not know, I am going to see!’” + +Whether Michel Ardan’s antagonist hazarded any further arguments or not +it is impossible to say, for the uproarious shouts of the crowd would +not allow any expression of opinion to gain a hearing. On silence being +restored, the triumphant orator contented himself with adding the +following remarks: + +“Gentlemen, you will observe that I have but slightly touched upon this +great question. There is another altogether different line of argument +in favor of the habitability of the stars, which I omit for the +present. I only desire to call attention to one point. To those who +maintain that the planets are _not_ inhabited one may reply: You might +be perfectly in the right, if you could only show that the earth is the +best possible world, in spite of what Voltaire has said. She has but +_one_ satellite, while Jupiter, Uranus, Saturn, Neptune have each +several, an advantage by no means to be despised. But that which +renders our own globe so uncomfortable is the inclination of its axis +to the plane of its orbit. Hence the inequality of days and nights; +hence the disagreeable diversity of the seasons. On the surface of our +unhappy spheroid we are always either too hot or too cold; we are +frozen in winter, broiled in summer; it is the planet of rheumatism, +coughs, bronchitis; while on the surface of Jupiter, for example, where +the axis is but slightly inclined, the inhabitants may enjoy uniform +temperatures. It possesses zones of perpetual springs, summers, +autumns, and winters; every Jovian may choose for himself what climate +he likes, and there spend the whole of his life in security from all +variations of temperature. You will, I am sure, readily admit this +superiority of Jupiter over our own planet, to say nothing of his +years, which each equal twelve of ours! Under such auspices and such +marvelous conditions of existence, it appears to me that the +inhabitants of so fortunate a world must be in every respect superior +to ourselves. All we require, in order to attain such perfection, is +the mere trifle of having an axis of rotation less inclined to the +plane of its orbit!” + +“Hurrah!” roared an energetic voice, “let us unite our efforts, invent +the necessary machines, and rectify the earth’s axis!” + +A thunder of applause followed this proposal, the author of which was, +of course, no other than J. T. Maston. And, in all probability, if the +truth must be told, if the Yankees could only have found a point of +application for it, they would have constructed a lever capable of +raising the earth and rectifying its axis. It was just this deficiency +which baffled these daring mechanicians. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +ATTACK AND RIPOSTE + + +As soon as the excitement had subsided, the following words were heard +uttered in a strong and determined voice: + +“Now that the speaker has favored us with so much imagination, would he +be so good as to return to his subject, and give us a little practical +view of the question?” + +All eyes were directed toward the person who spoke. He was a little +dried-up man, of an active figure, with an American “goatee” beard. +Profiting by the different movements in the crowd, he had managed by +degrees to gain the front row of spectators. There, with arms crossed +and stern gaze, he watched the hero of the meeting. After having put +his question he remained silent, and appeared to take no notice of the +thousands of looks directed toward himself, nor of the murmur of +disapprobation excited by his words. Meeting at first with no reply, he +repeated his question with marked emphasis, adding, “We are here to +talk about the _moon_ and not about the _earth_.” + +“You are right, sir,” replied Michel Ardan; “the discussion has become +irregular. We will return to the moon.” + +“Sir,” said the unknown, “you pretend that our satellite is inhabited. +Very good, but if Selenites do exist, that race of beings assuredly +must live without breathing, for—I warn you for your own sake—there is +not the smallest particle of air on the surface of the moon.” + +At this remark Ardan pushed up his shock of red hair; he saw that he +was on the point of being involved in a struggle with this person upon +the very gist of the whole question. He looked sternly at him in his +turn and said: + +“Oh! so there is no air in the moon? And pray, if you are so good, who +ventures to affirm that? + +“The men of science.” + +“Really?” + +“Really.” + +“Sir,” replied Michel, “pleasantry apart, I have a profound respect for +men of science who do possess science, but a profound contempt for men +of science who do not.” + +“Do you know any who belong to the latter category?” + +“Decidedly. In France there are some who maintain that, mathematically, +a bird cannot possibly fly; and others who demonstrate theoretically +that fishes were never made to live in water.” + +“I have nothing to do with persons of that description, and I can +quote, in support of my statement, names which you cannot refuse +deference to.” + +“Then, sir, you will sadly embarrass a poor ignorant, who, besides, +asks nothing better than to learn.” + +“Why, then, do you introduce scientific questions if you have never +studied them?” asked the unknown somewhat coarsely. + +“For the reason that ‘he is always brave who never suspects danger.’ I +know nothing, it is true; but it is precisely my very weakness which +constitutes my strength.” + +“Your weakness amounts to folly,” retorted the unknown in a passion. + +“All the better,” replied our Frenchman, “if it carries me up to the +moon.” + +Barbicane and his colleagues devoured with their eyes the intruder who +had so boldly placed himself in antagonism to their enterprise. Nobody +knew him, and the president, uneasy as to the result of so free a +discussion, watched his new friend with some anxiety. The meeting began +to be somewhat fidgety also, for the contest directed their attention +to the dangers, if not the actual impossibilities, of the proposed +expedition. + +“Sir,” replied Ardan’s antagonist, “there are many and incontrovertible +reasons which prove the absence of an atmosphere in the moon. I might +say that, _a priori_, if one ever did exist, it must have been absorbed +by the earth; but I prefer to bring forward indisputable facts.” + +“Bring them forward then, sir, as many as you please.” + +“You know,” said the stranger, “that when any luminous rays cross a +medium such as the air, they are deflected out of the straight line; in +other words, they undergo refraction. Well! When stars are occulted by +the moon, their rays, on grazing the edge of her disc, exhibit not the +least deviation, nor offer the slightest indication of refraction. It +follows, therefore, that the moon cannot be surrounded by an +atmosphere. + +“In point of fact,” replied Ardan, “this is your chief, if not your +_only_ argument; and a really scientific man might be puzzled to answer +it. For myself, I will simply say that it is defective, because it +assumes that the angular diameter of the moon has been completely +determined, which is not the case. But let us proceed. Tell me, my dear +sir, do you admit the existence of volcanoes on the moon’s surface?” + +“Extinct, yes! In activity, no!” + +“These volcanoes, however, were at one time in a state of activity?” + +“True, but, as they furnish themselves the oxygen necessary for +combustion, the mere fact of their eruption does not prove the presence +of an atmosphere.” + +“Proceed again, then; and let us set aside this class of arguments in +order to come to direct observations. In 1715 the astronomers Louville +and Halley, watching the eclipse of the 3rd of May, remarked some very +extraordinary scintillations. These jets of light, rapid in nature, and +of frequent recurrence, they attributed to thunderstorms generated in +the lunar atmosphere.” + +“In 1715,” replied the unknown, “the astronomers Louville and Halley +mistook for lunar phenomena some which were purely terrestrial, such as +meteoric or other bodies which are generated in our own atmosphere. +This was the scientific explanation at the time of the facts; and that +is my answer now.” + +“On again, then,” replied Ardan; “Herschel, in 1787, observed a great +number of luminous points on the moon’s surface, did he not?” + +“Yes! but without offering any solution of them. Herschel himself never +inferred from them the necessity of a lunar atmosphere. And I may add +that Baeer and Maedler, the two great authorities upon the moon, are +quite agreed as to the entire absence of air on its surface.” + +A movement was here manifest among the assemblage, who appeared to be +growing excited by the arguments of this singular personage. + +“Let us proceed,” replied Ardan, with perfect coolness, “and come to +one important fact. A skillful French astronomer, M. Laussedat, in +watching the eclipse of July 18, 1860, probed that the horns of the +lunar crescent were rounded and truncated. Now, this appearance could +only have been produced by a deviation of the solar rays in traversing +the atmosphere of the moon. There is no other possible explanation of +the facts.” + +“But is this established as a fact?” + +“Absolutely certain!” + +A counter-movement here took place in favor of the hero of the meeting, +whose opponent was now reduced to silence. Ardan resumed the +conversation; and without exhibiting any exultation at the advantage he +had gained, simply said: + +“You see, then, my dear sir, we must not pronounce with absolute +positiveness against the existence of an atmosphere in the moon. That +atmosphere is, probably, of extreme rarity; nevertheless at the present +day science generally admits that it exists.” + +“Not in the mountains, at all events,” returned the unknown, unwilling +to give in. + +“No! but at the bottom of the valleys, and not exceeding a few hundred +feet in height.” + +“In any case you will do well to take every precaution, for the air +will be terribly rarified.” + +“My good sir, there will always be enough for a solitary individual; +besides, once arrived up there, I shall do my best to economize, and +not to breathe except on grand occasions!” + +A tremendous roar of laughter rang in the ears of the mysterious +interlocutor, who glared fiercely round upon the assembly. + +“Then,” continued Ardan, with a careless air, “since we are in accord +regarding the presence of a certain atmosphere, we are forced to admit +the presence of a certain quantity of water. This is a happy +consequence for me. Moreover, my amiable contradictor, permit me to +submit to you one further observation. We only know _one_ side of the +moon’s disc; and if there is but little air on the face presented to +us, it is possible that there is plenty on the one turned away from +us.” + +“And for what reason?” + +“Because the moon, under the action of the earth’s attraction, has +assumed the form of an egg, which we look at from the smaller end. +Hence it follows, by Hausen’s calculations, that its center of gravity +is situated in the other hemisphere. Hence it results that the great +mass of air and water must have been drawn away to the other face of +our satellite during the first days of its creation.” + +“Pure fancies!” cried the unknown. + +“No! Pure theories! which are based upon the laws of mechanics, and it +seems difficult to me to refute them. I appeal then to this meeting, +and I put it to them whether life, such as exists upon the earth, is +possible on the surface of the moon?” + +Three hundred thousand auditors at once applauded the proposition. +Ardan’s opponent tried to get in another word, but he could not obtain +a hearing. Cries and menaces fell upon him like hail. + +“Enough! enough!” cried some. + +“Drive the intruder off!” shouted others. + +“Turn him out!” roared the exasperated crowd. + +But he, holding firmly on to the platform, did not budge an inch, and +let the storm pass on, which would soon have assumed formidable +proportions, if Michel Ardan had not quieted it by a gesture. He was +too chivalrous to abandon his opponent in an apparent extremity. + +“You wished to say a few more words?” he asked, in a pleasant voice. + +“Yes, a thousand; or rather, no, only one! If you persevere in your +enterprise, you must be a—” + +“Very rash person! How can you treat me as such? me, who have demanded +a cylindro-conical projectile, in order to prevent turning round and +round on my way like a squirrel?” + +“But, unhappy man, the dreadful recoil will smash you to pieces at your +starting.” + +“My dear contradictor, you have just put your finger upon the true and +only difficulty; nevertheless, I have too good an opinion of the +industrial genius of the Americans not to believe that they will +succeed in overcoming it.” + +“But the heat developed by the rapidity of the projectile in crossing +the strata of air?” + +“Oh! the walls are thick, and I shall soon have crossed the +atmosphere.” + +“But victuals and water?” + +“I have calculated for a twelvemonth’s supply, and I shall be only four +days on the journey.” + +“But for air to breathe on the road?” + +“I shall make it by a chemical process.” + +“But your fall on the moon, supposing you ever reach it?” + +“It will be six times less dangerous than a sudden fall upon the earth, +because the weight will be only one-sixth as great on the surface of +the moon.” + +“Still it will be enough to smash you like glass!” + +“What is to prevent my retarding the shock by means of rockets +conveniently placed, and lighted at the right moment?” + +“But after all, supposing all difficulties surmounted, all obstacles +removed, supposing everything combined to favor you, and granting that +you may arrive safe and sound in the moon, how will you come back?” + +“I am not coming back!” + +At this reply, almost sublime in its very simplicity, the assembly +became silent. But its silence was more eloquent than could have been +its cries of enthusiasm. The unknown profited by the opportunity and +once more protested: + +“You will inevitably kill yourself!” he cried; “and your death will be +that of a madman, useless even to science!” + +“Go on, my dear unknown, for truly your prophecies are most agreeable!” + +“It really is too much!” cried Michel Ardan’s adversary. “I do not know +why I should continue so frivolous a discussion! Please yourself about +this insane expedition! We need not trouble ourselves about you!” + +“Pray don’t stand upon ceremony!” + +“No! another person is responsible for your act.” + +“Who, may I ask?” demanded Michel Ardan in an imperious tone. + +“The ignoramus who organized this equally absurd and impossible +experiment!” + +The attack was direct. Barbicane, ever since the interference of the +unknown, had been making fearful efforts of self-control; now, however, +seeing himself directly attacked, he could restrain himself no longer. +He rose suddenly, and was rushing upon the enemy who thus braved him to +the face, when all at once he found himself separated from him. + +The platform was lifted by a hundred strong arms, and the president of +the Gun Club shared with Michel Ardan triumphal honors. The shield was +heavy, but the bearers came in continuous relays, disputing, +struggling, even fighting among themselves in their eagerness to lend +their shoulders to this demonstration. + +However, the unknown had not profited by the tumult to quit his post. +Besides he could not have done it in the midst of that compact crowd. +There he held on in the front row with crossed arms, glaring at +President Barbicane. + +The shouts of the immense crowd continued at their highest pitch +throughout this triumphant march. Michel Ardan took it all with evident +pleasure. His face gleamed with delight. Several times the platform +seemed seized with pitching and rolling like a weatherbeaten ship. But +the two heros of the meeting had good sea-legs. They never stumbled; +and their vessel arrived without dues at the port of Tampa Town. + +Michel Ardan managed fortunately to escape from the last embraces of +his vigorous admirers. He made for the Hotel Franklin, quickly gained +his chamber, and slid under the bedclothes, while an army of a hundred +thousand men kept watch under his windows. + +During this time a scene, short, grave, and decisive, took place +between the mysterious personage and the president of the Gun Club. + +Barbicane, free at last, had gone straight at his adversary. + +“Come!” he said shortly. + +The other followed him on the quay; and the two presently found +themselves alone at the entrance of an open wharf on Jones’ Fall. + +The two enemies, still mutually unknown, gazed at each other. + +“Who are you?” asked Barbicane. + +“Captain Nicholl!” + +“So I suspected. Hitherto chance has never thrown you in my way.” + +“I am come for that purpose.” + +“You have insulted me.” + +“Publicly!” + +“And you will answer to me for this insult?” + +“At this very moment.” + +“No! I desire that all that passes between us shall be secret. Their is +a wood situated three miles from Tampa, the wood of Skersnaw. Do you +know it?” + +“I know it.” + +“Will you be so good as to enter it to-morrow morning at five o’clock, +on one side?” + +“Yes! if you will enter at the other side at the same hour.” + +“And you will not forget your rifle?” said Barbicane. + +“No more than you will forget yours?” replied Nicholl. + +These words having been coldly spoken, the president of the Gun Club +and the captain parted. Barbicane returned to his lodging; but instead +of snatching a few hours of repose, he passed the night in endeavoring +to discover a means of evading the recoil of the projectile, and +resolving the difficult problem proposed by Michel Ardan during the +discussion at the meeting. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +HOW A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR + + +While the contract of this duel was being discussed by the president +and the captain—this dreadful, savage duel, in which each adversary +became a man-hunter—Michel Ardan was resting from the fatigues of his +triumph. Resting is hardly an appropriate expression, for American beds +rival marble or granite tables for hardness. + +Ardan was sleeping, then, badly enough, tossing about between the +cloths which served him for sheets, and he was dreaming of making a +more comfortable couch in his projectile when a frightful noise +disturbed his dreams. Thundering blows shook his door. They seemed to +be caused by some iron instrument. A great deal of loud talking was +distinguishable in this racket, which was rather too early in the +morning. “Open the door,” some one shrieked, “for heaven’s sake!” Ardan +saw no reason for complying with a demand so roughly expressed. +However, he got up and opened the door just as it was giving way before +the blows of this determined visitor. The secretary of the Gun Club +burst into the room. A bomb could not have made more noise or have +entered the room with less ceremony. + +“Last night,” cried J. T. Maston, _ex abrupto_, “our president was +publicly insulted during the meeting. He provoked his adversary, who is +none other than Captain Nicholl! They are fighting this morning in the +wood of Skersnaw. I heard all the particulars from the mouth of +Barbicane himself. If he is killed, then our scheme is at an end. We +must prevent his duel; and one man alone has enough influence over +Barbicane to stop him, and that man is Michel Ardan.” + +While J. T. Maston was speaking, Michel Ardan, without interrupting +him, had hastily put on his clothes; and, in less than two minutes, the +two friends were making for the suburbs of Tampa Town with rapid +strides. + +It was during this walk that Maston told Ardan the state of the case. +He told him the real causes of the hostility between Barbicane and +Nicholl; how it was of old date, and why, thanks to unknown friends, +the president and the captain had, as yet, never met face to face. He +added that it arose simply from a rivalry between iron plates and shot, +and, finally, that the scene at the meeting was only the +long-wished-for opportunity for Nicholl to pay off an old grudge. + +Nothing is more dreadful than private duels in America. The two +adversaries attack each other like wild beasts. Then it is that they +might well covet those wonderful properties of the Indians of the +prairies—their quick intelligence, their ingenious cunning, their scent +of the enemy. A single mistake, a moment’s hesitation, a single false +step may cause death. On these occasions Yankees are often accompanied +by their dogs, and keep up the struggle for hours. + +“What demons you are!” cried Michel Ardan, when his companion had +depicted this scene to him with much energy. + +“Yes, we are,” replied J. T. modestly; “but we had better make haste.” + +Though Michel Ardan and he had crossed the plains still wet with dew, +and had taken the shortest route over creeks and ricefields, they could +not reach Skersnaw in under five hours and a half. + +Barbicane must have passed the border half an hour ago. + +There was an old bushman working there, occupied in selling fagots from +trees that had been leveled by his axe. + +Maston ran toward him, saying, “Have you seen a man go into the wood, +armed with a rifle? Barbicane, the president, my best friend?” + +The worthy secretary of the Gun Club thought that his president must be +known by all the world. But the bushman did not seem to understand him. + +“A hunter?” said Ardan. + +“A hunter? Yes,” replied the bushman. + +“Long ago?” + +“About an hour.” + +“Too late!” cried Maston. + +“Have you heard any gunshots?” asked Ardan. + +“No!” + +“Not one?” + +“Not one! that hunter did not look as if he knew how to hunt!” + +“What is to be done?” said Maston. + +“We must go into the wood, at the risk of getting a ball which is not +intended for us.” + +“Ah!” cried Maston, in a tone which could not be mistaken, “I would +rather have twenty balls in my own head than one in Barbicane’s.” + +“Forward, then,” said Ardan, pressing his companion’s hand. + +A few moments later the two friends had disappeared in the copse. It +was a dense thicket, in which rose huge cypresses, sycamores, +tulip-trees, olives, tamarinds, oaks, and magnolias. These different +trees had interwoven their branches into an inextricable maze, through +which the eye could not penetrate. Michel Ardan and Maston walked side +by side in silence through the tall grass, cutting themselves a path +through the strong creepers, casting curious glances on the bushes, and +momentarily expecting to hear the sound of rifles. As for the traces +which Barbicane ought to have left of his passage through the wood, +there was not a vestige of them visible: so they followed the barely +perceptible paths along which Indians had tracked some enemy, and which +the dense foliage darkly overshadowed. + +After an hour spent in vain pursuit the two stopped in intensified +anxiety. + +“It must be all over,” said Maston, discouraged. “A man like Barbicane +would not dodge with his enemy, or ensnare him, would not even +maneuver! He is too open, too brave. He has gone straight ahead, right +into the danger, and doubtless far enough from the bushman for the wind +to prevent his hearing the report of the rifles.” + +“But surely,” replied Michel Ardan, “since we entered the wood we +should have heard!” + +“And what if we came too late?” cried Maston in tones of despair. + +For once Ardan had no reply to make, he and Maston resuming their walk +in silence. From time to time, indeed, they raised great shouts, +calling alternately Barbicane and Nicholl, neither of whom, however, +answered their cries. Only the birds, awakened by the sound, flew past +them and disappeared among the branches, while some frightened deer +fled precipitately before them. + +For another hour their search was continued. The greater part of the +wood had been explored. There was nothing to reveal the presence of the +combatants. The information of the bushman was after all doubtful, and +Ardan was about to propose their abandoning this useless pursuit, when +all at once Maston stopped. + +“Hush!” said he, “there is some one down there!” + +“Some one?” repeated Michel Ardan. + +“Yes; a man! He seems motionless. His rifle is not in his hands. What +can he be doing?” + +“But can you recognize him?” asked Ardan, whose short sight was of +little use to him in such circumstances. + +“Yes! yes! He is turning toward us,” answered Maston. + +“And it is?” + +“Captain Nicholl!” + +“Nicholl?” cried Michel Ardan, feeling a terrible pang of grief. + +“Nicholl unarmed! He has, then, no longer any fear of his adversary!” + +“Let us go to him,” said Michel Ardan, “and find out the truth.” + +But he and his companion had barely taken fifty steps, when they paused +to examine the captain more attentively. They expected to find a +bloodthirsty man, happy in his revenge. + +On seeing him, they remained stupefied. + +A net, composed of very fine meshes, hung between two enormous +tulip-trees, and in the midst of this snare, with its wings entangled, +was a poor little bird, uttering pitiful cries, while it vainly +struggled to escape. The bird-catcher who had laid this snare was no +human being, but a venomous spider, peculiar to that country, as large +as a pigeon’s egg, and armed with enormous claws. The hideous creature, +instead of rushing on its prey, had beaten a sudden retreat and taken +refuge in the upper branches of the tulip-tree, for a formidable enemy +menaced its stronghold. + +Here, then, was Nicholl, his gun on the ground, forgetful of danger, +trying if possible to save the victim from its cobweb prison. At last +it was accomplished, and the little bird flew joyfully away and +disappeared. + +Nicholl lovingly watched its flight, when he heard these words +pronounced by a voice full of emotion: + +“You are indeed a brave man.” + +He turned. Michel Ardan was before him, repeating in a different tone: + +“And a kindhearted one!” + +“Michel Ardan!” cried the captain. “Why are you here?” + +“To press your hand, Nicholl, and to prevent you from either killing +Barbicane or being killed by him.” + +“Barbicane!” returned the captain. “I have been looking for him for the +last two hours in vain. Where is he hiding?” + +“Nicholl!” said Michel Ardan, “this is not courteous! we ought always +to treat an adversary with respect; rest assureed if Barbicane is still +alive we shall find him all the more easily; because if he has not, +like you, been amusing himself with freeing oppressed birds, he must be +looking for _you_. When we have found him, Michel Ardan tells you this, +there will be no duel between you.” + +“Between President Barbicane and myself,” gravely replied Nicholl, +“there is a rivalry which the death of one of us—” + +“Pooh, pooh!” said Ardan. “Brave fellows like you indeed! you shall not +fight!” + +“I will fight, sir!” + +“No!” + +“Captain,” said J. T. Maston, with much feeling, “I am a friend of the +president’s, his _alter ego_, his second self; if you really must kill +some one, _shoot me!_ it will do just as well!” + +“Sir,” Nicholl replied, seizing his rifle convulsively, “these jokes—” + +“Our friend Maston is not joking,” replied Ardan. “I fully understand +his idea of being killed himself in order to save his friend. But +neither he nor Barbicane will fall before the balls of Captain Nicholl. +Indeed I have so attractive a proposal to make to the two rivals, that +both will be eager to accept it.” + +“What is it?” asked Nicholl with manifest incredulity. + +“Patience!” exclaimed Ardan. “I can only reveal it in the presence of +Barbicane.” + +“Let us go in search of him then!” cried the captain. + +The three men started off at once; the captain having discharged his +rifle threw it over his shoulder, and advanced in silence. Another half +hour passed, and the pursuit was still fruitless. Maston was oppressed +by sinister forebodings. He looked fiercely at Nicholl, asking himself +whether the captain’s vengeance had already been satisfied, and the +unfortunate Barbicane, shot, was perhaps lying dead on some bloody +track. The same thought seemed to occur to Ardan; and both were casting +inquiring glances on Nicholl, when suddenly Maston paused. + +The motionless figure of a man leaning against a gigantic catalpa +twenty feet off appeared, half-veiled by the foliage. + +“It is he!” said Maston. + +Barbicane never moved. Ardan looked at the captain, but he did not +wince. Ardan went forward crying: + +“Barbicane! Barbicane!” + +No answer! Ardan rushed toward his friend; but in the act of seizing +his arms, he stopped short and uttered a cry of surprise. + +Barbicane, pencil in hand, was tracing geometrical figures in a +memorandum book, while his unloaded rifle lay beside him on the ground. + +Absorbed in his studies, Barbicane, in his turn forgetful of the duel, +had seen and heard nothing. + +When Ardan took his hand, he looked up and stared at his visitor in +astonishment. + +“Ah, it is you!” he cried at last. “I have found it, my friend, I have +found it!” + +“What?” + +“My plan!” + +“What plan?” + +“The plan for countering the effect of the shock at the departure of +the projectile!” + +“Indeed?” said Michel Ardan, looking at the captain out of the corner +of his eye. + +“Yes! water! simply water, which will act as a spring—ah! Maston,” +cried Barbicane, “you here also?” + +“Himself,” replied Ardan; “and permit me to introduce to you at the +same time the worthy Captain Nicholl!” + +“Nicholl!” cried Barbicane, who jumped up at once. “Pardon me, captain, +I had quite forgotten—I am ready!” + +Michel Ardan interfered, without giving the two enemies time to say +anything more. + +“Thank heaven!” said he. “It is a happy thing that brave men like you +two did not meet sooner! we should now have been mourning for one or +other of you. But, thanks to Providence, which has interfered, there is +now no further cause for alarm. When one forgets one’s anger in +mechanics or in cobwebs, it is a sign that the anger is not dangerous.” + +Michel Ardan then told the president how the captain had been found +occupied. + +“I put it to you now,” said he in conclusion, “are two such good +fellows as you are made on purpose to smash each other’s skulls with +shot?” + +There was in “the situation” somewhat of the ridiculous, something +quite unexpected; Michel Ardan saw this, and determined to effect a +reconciliation. + +“My good friends,” said he, with his most bewitching smile, “this is +nothing but a misunderstanding. Nothing more! well! to prove that it is +all over between you, accept frankly the proposal I am going to make to +you.” + +“Make it,” said Nicholl. + +“Our friend Barbicane believes that his projectile will go straight to +the moon?” + +“Yes, certainly,” replied the president. + +“And our friend Nicholl is persuaded it will fall back upon the earth?” + +“I am certain of it,” cried the captain. + +“Good!” said Ardan. “I cannot pretend to make you agree; but I suggest +this: Go with me, and so see whether we are stopped on our journey.” + +“What?” exclaimed J. T. Maston, stupefied. + +The two rivals, on this sudden proposal, looked steadily at each other. +Barbicane waited for the captain’s answer. Nicholl watched for the +decision of the president. + +“Well?” said Michel. “There is now no fear of the shock!” + +“Done!” cried Barbicane. + +But quickly as he pronounced the word, he was not before Nicholl. + +“Hurrah! bravo! hip! hip! hurrah!” cried Michel, giving a hand to each +of the late adversaries. “Now that it is all settled, my friends, allow +me to treat you after French fashion. Let us be off to breakfast!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +THE NEW CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES + + +That same day all America heard of the affair of Captain Nicholl and +President Barbicane, as well as its singular _denouement_. From that +day forth, Michel Ardan had not one moment’s rest. Deputations from all +corners of the Union harassed him without cessation or intermission. He +was compelled to receive them all, whether he would or no. How many +hands he shook, how many people he was “hail-fellow-well-met” with, it +is impossible to guess! Such a triumphal result would have intoxicated +any other man; but he managed to keep himself in a state of delightful +_semi_-tipsiness. + +Among the deputations of all kinds which assailed him, that of “The +Lunatics” were careful not to forget what they owed to the future +conqueror of the moon. One day, certain of these poor people, so +numerous in America, came to call upon him, and requested permission to +return with him to their native country. + +“Singular hallucination!” said he to Barbicane, after having dismissed +the deputation with promises to convey numbers of messages to friends +in the moon. “Do you believe in the influence of the moon upon +distempers?” + +“Scarcely!” + +“No more do I, despite some remarkable recorded facts of history. For +instance, during an epidemic in 1693, a large number of persons died at +the very moment of an eclipse. The celebrated Bacon always fainted +during an eclipse. Charles VI relapsed six times into madness during +the year 1399, sometimes during the new, sometimes during the full +moon. Gall observed that insane persons underwent an accession of their +disorder twice in every month, at the epochs of new and full moon. In +fact, numerous observations made upon fevers, somnambulisms, and other +human maladies, seem to prove that the moon does exercise some +mysterious influence upon man.” + +“But the how and the wherefore?” asked Barbicane. + +“Well, I can only give you the answer which Arago borrowed from +Plutarch, which is nineteen centuries old. ‘Perhaps the stories are not +true!’” + +In the height of his triumph, Michel Ardan had to encounter all the +annoyances incidental to a man of celebrity. Managers of entertainments +wanted to exhibit him. Barnum offered him a million dollars to make a +tour of the United States in his show. As for his photographs, they +were sold of all size, and his portrait taken in every imaginable +posture. More than half a million copies were disposed of in an +incredibly short space of time. + +But it was not only the men who paid him homage, but the women as well. +He might have married well a hundred times over, if he had been willing +to settle in life. The old maids, in particular, of forty years and +upward, and dry in proportion, devoured his photographs day and night. +They would have married him by hundreds, even if he had imposed upon +them the condition of accompanying him into space. He had, however, no +intention of transplanting a race of Franco-Americans upon the surface +of the moon. + +He therefore declined all offers. + +As soon as he could withdraw from these somewhat embarrassing +demonstrations, he went, accompanied by his friends, to pay a visit to +the Columbiad. He was highly gratified by his inspection, and made the +descent to the bottom of the tube of this gigantic machine which was +presently to launch him to the regions of the moon. It is necessary +here to mention a proposal of J. T. Maston’s. When the secretary of the +Gun Club found that Barbicane and Nicholl accepted the proposal of +Michel Ardan, he determined to join them, and make one of a smug party +of four. So one day he determined to be admitted as one of the +travelers. Barbicane, pained at having to refuse him, gave him clearly +to understand that the projectile could not possibly contain so many +passengers. Maston, in despair, went in search of Michel Ardan, who +counseled him to resign himself to the situation, adding one or two +arguments _ad hominem_. + +“You see, old fellow,” he said, “you must not take what I say in bad +part; but really, between ourselves, you are in too incomplete a +condition to appear in the moon!” + +“Incomplete?” shrieked the valiant invalid. + +“Yes, my dear fellow! imagine our meeting some of the inhabitants up +there! Would you like to give them such a melancholy notion of what +goes on down here? to teach them what war is, to inform them that we +employ our time chiefly in devouring each other, in smashing arms and +legs, and that too on a globe which is capable of supporting a hundred +billions of inhabitants, and which actually does contain nearly two +hundred millions? Why, my worthy friend, we should have to turn you out +of doors!” + +“But still, if you arrive there in pieces, you will be as incomplete as +I am.” + +“Unquestionably,” replied Michel Ardan; “but we shall not.” + +In fact, a preparatory experiment, tried on the 18th of October, had +yielded the best results and caused the most well-grounded hopes of +success. Barbicane, desirous of obtaining some notion of the effect of +the shock at the moment of the projectile’s departure, had procured a +38-inch mortar from the arsenal of Pensacola. He had this placed on the +bank of Hillisborough Roads, in order that the shell might fall back +into the sea, and the shock be thereby destroyed. His object was to +ascertain the extent of the shock of departure, and not that of the +return. + +A hollow projectile had been prepared for this curious experiment. A +thick padding fastened upon a kind of elastic network, made of the best +steel, lined the inside of the walls. It was a veritable _nest_ most +carefully wadded. + +“What a pity I can’t find room in there,” said J. T. Maston, regretting +that his height did not allow of his trying the adventure. + +Within this shell were shut up a large cat, and a squirrel belonging to +J. T. Maston, and of which he was particularly fond. They were +desirous, however, of ascertaining how this little animal, least of all +others subject to giddiness, would endure this experimental voyage. + +The mortar was charged with 160 pounds of powder, and the shell placed +in the chamber. On being fired, the projectile rose with great +velocity, described a majestic parabola, attained a height of about a +thousand feet, and with a graceful curve descended in the midst of the +vessels that lay there at anchor. + +Without a moment’s loss of time a small boat put off in the direction +of its fall; some divers plunged into the water and attached ropes to +the handles of the shell, which was quickly dragged on board. Five +minutes did not elapse between the moment of enclosing the animals and +that of unscrewing the coverlid of their prison. + +Ardan, Barbicane, Maston, and Nicholl were present on board the boat, +and assisted at the operation with an interest which may readily be +comprehended. Hardly had the shell been opened when the cat leaped out, +slightly bruised, but full of life, and exhibiting no signs whatever of +having made an aerial expedition. No trace, however, of the squirrel +could be discovered. The truth at last became apparent—the cat had +eaten its fellow-traveler! + +J. T. Maston grieved much for the loss of his poor squirrel, and +proposed to add its case to that of other martyrs to science. + +After this experiment all hesitation, all fear disappeared. Besides, +Barbicane’s plans would ensure greater perfection for his projectile, +and go far to annihilate altogether the effects of the shock. Nothing +now remained but to go! + +Two days later Michel Ardan received a message from the President of +the United States, an honor of which he showed himself especially +sensible. + +After the example of his illustrious fellow-countryman, the Marquis de +la Fayette, the government had decreed to him the title of “Citizen of +the United States of America.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +THE PROJECTILE-VEHICLE + + +On the completion of the Columbiad the public interest centered in the +projectile itself, the vehicle which was destined to carry the three +hardy adventurers into space. + +The new plans had been sent to Breadwill and Co., of Albany, with the +request for their speedy execution. The projectile was consequently +cast on the 2nd of November, and immediately forwarded by the Eastern +Railway to Stones Hill, which it reached without accident on the 10th +of that month, where Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and Nicholl were waiting +impatiently for it. + +The projectile had now to be filled to the depth of three feet with a +bed of water, intended to support a water-tight wooden disc, which +worked easily within the walls of the projectile. It was upon this kind +of raft that the travelers were to take their place. This body of water +was divided by horizontal partitions, which the shock of the departure +would have to break in succession. Then each sheet of the water, from +the lowest to the highest, running off into escape tubes toward the top +of the projectile, constituted a kind of spring; and the wooden disc, +supplied with extremely powerful plugs, could not strike the lowest +plate except after breaking successively the different partitions. +Undoubtedly the travelers would still have to encounter a violent +recoil after the complete escapement of the water; but the first shock +would be almost entirely destroyed by this powerful spring. The upper +parts of the walls were lined with a thick padding of leather, fastened +upon springs of the best steel, behind which the escape tubes were +completely concealed; thus all imaginable precautions had been taken +for averting the first shock; and if they did get crushed, they must, +as Michel Ardan said, be made of very bad materials. + +The entrance into this metallic tower was by a narrow aperture +contrived in the wall of the cone. This was hermetically closed by a +plate of aluminum, fastened internally by powerful screw-pressure. The +travelers could therefore quit their prison at pleasure, as soon as +they should reach the moon. + +Light and view were given by means of four thick lenticular glass +scuttles, two pierced in the circular wall itself, the third in the +bottom, the fourth in the top. These scuttles then were protected +against the shock of departure by plates let into solid grooves, which +could easily be opened outward by unscrewing them from the inside. +Reservoirs firmly fixed contained water and the necessary provisions; +and fire and light were procurable by means of gas, contained in a +special reservoir under a pressure of several atmospheres. They had +only to turn a tap, and for six hours the gas would light and warm this +comfortable vehicle. + +There now remained only the question of air; for allowing for the +consumption of air by Barbicane, his two companions, and two dogs which +he proposed taking with him, it was necessary to renew the air of the +projectile. Now air consists principally of twenty-one parts of oxygen +and seventy-nine of nitrogen. The lungs absorb the oxygen, which is +indispensable for the support of life, and reject the nitrogen. The air +expired loses nearly five per cent. of the former and contains nearly +an equal volume of carbonic acid, produced by the combustion of the +elements of the blood. In an air-tight enclosure, then, after a certain +time, all the oxygen of the air will be replaced by the carbonic acid—a +gas fatal to life. There were two things to be done then—first, to +replace the absorbed oxygen; secondly, to destroy the expired carbonic +acid; both easy enough to do, by means of chlorate of potassium and +caustic potash. The former is a salt which appears under the form of +white crystals; when raised to a temperature of 400 degrees it is +transformed into chlorure of potassium, and the oxygen which it +contains is entirely liberated. Now twenty-eight pounds of chlorate of +potassium produces seven pounds of oxygen, or 2,400 litres—the quantity +necessary for the travelers during twenty-four hours. + +Caustic potash has a great affinity for carbonic acid; and it is +sufficient to shake it in order for it to seize upon the acid and form +bicarbonate of potassium. By these two means they would be enabled to +restore to the vitiated air its life- supporting properties. + +It is necessary, however, to add that the experiments had hitherto been +made _in anima vili_. Whatever its scientific accuracy was, they were +at present ignorant how it would answer with human beings. The honor of +putting it to the proof was energetically claimed by J. T. Maston. + +“Since I am not to go,” said the brave artillerist, “I may at least +live for a week in the projectile.” + +It would have been hard to refuse him; so they consented to his wish. A +sufficient quantity of chlorate of potassium and of caustic potash was +placed at his disposal, together with provisions for eight days. And +having shaken hands with his friends, on the 12th of November, at six +o’clock A.M., after strictly informing them not to open his prison +before the 20th, at six o’clock P.M., he slid down the projectile, the +plate of which was at once hermetically sealed. What did he do with +himself during that week? They could get no information. The thickness +of the walls of the projectile prevented any sound reaching from the +inside to the outside. On the 20th of November, at six P.M. exactly, +the plate was opened. The friends of J. T. Maston had been all along in +a state of much anxiety; but they were promptly reassured on hearing a +jolly voice shouting a boisterous hurrah. + +Presently afterward the secretary of the Gun Club appeared at the top +of the cone in a triumphant attitude. He had grown fat! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. +THE TELESCOPE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS + + +On the 20th of October in the preceding year, after the close of the +subscription, the president of the Gun Club had credited the +Observatory of Cambridge with the necessary sums for the construction +of a gigantic optical instrument. This instrument was designed for the +purpose of rendering visible on the surface of the moon any object +exceeding nine feet in diameter. + +At the period when the Gun Club essayed their great experiment, such +instruments had reached a high degree of perfection, and produced some +magnificent results. Two telescopes in particular, at this time, were +possessed of remarkable power and of gigantic dimensions. The first, +constructed by Herschel, was thirty-six feet in length, and had an +object-glass of four feet six inches; it possessed a magnifying power +of 6,000. The second was raised in Ireland, in Parsonstown Park, and +belongs to Lord Rosse. The length of this tube is forty-eight feet, and +the diameter of its object-glass six feet; it magnifies 6,400 times, +and required an immense erection of brick work and masonry for the +purpose of working it, its weight being twelve and a half tons. + +Still, despite these colossal dimensions, the actual enlargements +scarcely exceeded 6,000 times in round numbers; consequently, the moon +was brought within no nearer an apparent distance than thirty-nine +miles; and objects of less than sixty feet in diameter, unless they +were of very considerable length, were still imperceptible. + +In the present case, dealing with a projectile nine feet in diameter +and fifteen feet long, it became necessary to bring the moon within an +apparent distance of five miles at most; and for that purpose to +establish a magnifying power of 48,000 times. + +Such was the question proposed to the Observatory of Cambridge, There +was no lack of funds; the difficulty was purely one of construction. + +After considerable discussion as to the best form and principle of the +proposed instrument the work was finally commenced. According to the +calculations of the Observatory of Cambridge, the tube of the new +reflector would require to be 280 feet in length, and the object-glass +sixteen feet in diameter. Colossal as these dimensions may appear, they +were diminutive in comparison with the 10,000 foot telescope proposed +by the astronomer Hooke only a few years ago! + +Regarding the choice of locality, that matter was promptly determined. +The object was to select some lofty mountain, and there are not many of +these in the United States. In fact there are but two chains of +moderate elevation, between which runs the magnificent Mississippi, the +“king of rivers” as these Republican Yankees delight to call it. + +Eastwards rise the Appalachians, the very highest point of which, in +New Hampshire, does not exceed the very moderate altitude of 5,600 +feet. + +On the west, however, rise the Rocky Mountains, that immense range +which, commencing at the Straights of Magellan, follows the western +coast of Southern America under the name of the Andes or the +Cordilleras, until it crosses the Isthmus of Panama, and runs up the +whole of North America to the very borders of the Polar Sea. The +highest elevation of this range still does not exceed 10,700 feet. With +this elevation, nevertheless, the Gun Club were compelled to be +content, inasmuch as they had determined that both telescope and +Columbiad should be erected within the limits of the Union. All the +necessary apparatus was consequently sent on to the summit of Long’s +Peak, in the territory of Missouri. + +Neither pen nor language can describe the difficulties of all kinds +which the American engineers had to surmount, of the prodigies of +daring and skill which they accomplished. They had to raise enormous +stones, massive pieces of wrought iron, heavy corner-clamps and huge +portions of cylinder, with an object-glass weighing nearly 30,000 +pounds, above the line of perpetual snow for more than 10,000 feet in +height, after crossing desert prairies, impenetrable forests, fearful +rapids, far from all centers of population, and in the midst of savage +regions, in which every detail of life becomes an almost insoluble +problem. And yet, notwithstanding these innumerable obstacles, American +genius triumphed. In less than a year after the commencement of the +works, toward the close of September, the gigantic reflector rose into +the air to a height of 280 feet. It was raised by means of an enormous +iron crane; an ingenious mechanism allowed it to be easily worked +toward all the points of the heavens, and to follow the stars from the +one horizon to the other during their journey through the heavens. + +It had cost $400,000. The first time it was directed toward the moon +the observers evinced both curiosity and anxiety. What were they about +to discover in the field of this telescope which magnified objects +48,000 times? Would they perceive peoples, herds of lunar animals, +towns, lakes, seas? No! there was nothing which science had not already +discovered! and on all the points of its disc the volcanic nature of +the moon became determinable with the utmost precision. + +But the telescope of the Rocky Mountains, before doing its duty to the +Gun Club, rendered immense services to astronomy. Thanks to its +penetrative power, the depths of the heavens were sounded to the utmost +extent; the apparent diameter of a great number of stars was accurately +measured; and Mr. Clark, of the Cambridge staff, resolved the Crab +nebula in Taurus, which the reflector of Lord Rosse had never been able +to decompose. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. +FINAL DETAILS + + +It was the 22nd of November; the departure was to take place in ten +days. One operation alone remained to be accomplished to bring all to a +happy termination; an operation delicate and perilous, requiring +infinite precautions, and against the success of which Captain Nicholl +had laid his third bet. It was, in fact, nothing less than the loading +of the Columbiad, and the introduction into it of 400,000 pounds of +gun-cotton. Nicholl had thought, not perhaps without reason, that the +handling of such formidable quantities of pyroxyle would, in all +probability, involve a grave catastrophe; and at any rate, that this +immense mass of eminently inflammable matter would inevitably ignite +when submitted to the pressure of the projectile. + +There were indeed dangers accruing as before from the carelessness of +the Americans, but Barbicane had set his heart on success, and took all +possible precautions. In the first place, he was very careful as to the +transportation of the gun-cotton to Stones Hill. He had it conveyed in +small quantities, carefully packed in sealed cases. These were brought +by rail from Tampa Town to the camp, and from thence were taken to the +Columbiad by barefooted workmen, who deposited them in their places by +means of cranes placed at the orifice of the cannon. No steam-engine +was permitted to work, and every fire was extinguished within two miles +of the works. + +Even in November they feared to work by day, lest the sun’s rays acting +on the gun-cotton might lead to unhappy results. This led to their +working at night, by light produced in a vacuum by means of Ruhmkorff’s +apparatus, which threw an artificial brightness into the depths of the +Columbiad. There the cartridges were arranged with the utmost +regularity, connected by a metallic thread, destined to communicate to +them all simultaneously the electric spark, by which means this mass of +gun-cotton was eventually to be ignited. + +By the 28th of November eight hundred cartridges had been placed in the +bottom of the Columbiad. So far the operation had been successful! But +what confusion, what anxieties, what struggles were undergone by +President Barbicane! In vain had he refused admission to Stones Hill; +every day the inquisitive neighbors scaled the palisades, some even +carrying their imprudence to the point of smoking while surrounded by +bales of gun-cotton. Barbicane was in a perpetual state of alarm. J. T. +Maston seconded him to the best of his ability, by giving vigorous +chase to the intruders, and carefully picking up the still lighted +cigar ends which the Yankees threw about. A somewhat difficult task! +seeing that more than 300,000 persons were gathered round the +enclosure. Michel Ardan had volunteered to superintend the transport of +the cartridges to the mouth of the Columbiad; but the president, having +surprised him with an enormous cigar in his mouth, while he was hunting +out the rash spectators to whom he himself offered so dangerous an +example, saw that he could not trust this fearless smoker, and was +therefore obliged to mount a special guard over him. + +At last, Providence being propitious, this wonderful loading came to a +happy termination, Captain Nicholl’s third bet being thus lost. It +remained now to introduce the projectile into the Columbiad, and to +place it on its soft bed of gun-cotton. + +But before doing this, all those things necessary for the journey had +to be carefully arranged in the projectile vehicle. These necessaries +were numerous; and had Ardan been allowed to follow his own wishes, +there would have been no space remaining for the travelers. It is +impossible to conceive of half the things this charming Frenchman +wished to convey to the moon. A veritable stock of useless trifles! But +Barbicane interfered and refused admission to anything not absolutely +needed. Several thermometers, barometers, and telescopes were packed in +the instrument case. + +The travelers being desirous of examing the moon carefully during their +voyage, in order to facilitate their studies, they took with them Boeer +and Moeller’s excellent _Mappa Selenographica_, a masterpiece of +patience and observation, which they hoped would enable them to +identify those physical features in the moon, with which they were +acquainted. This map reproduced with scrupulous fidelity the smallest +details of the lunar surface which faces the earth; the mountains, +valleys, craters, peaks, and ridges were all represented, with their +exact dimensions, relative positions, and names; from the mountains +Doerfel and Leibnitz on the eastern side of the disc, to the _Mare +frigoris_ of the North Pole. + +They took also three rifles and three fowling-pieces, and a large +quantity of balls, shot, and powder. + +“We cannot tell whom we shall have to deal with,” said Michel Ardan. +“Men or beasts may possibly object to our visit. It is only wise to +take all precautions.” + +These defensive weapons were accompanied by pickaxes, crowbars, saws, +and other useful implements, not to mention clothing adapted to every +temperature, from that of polar regions to that of the torrid zone. + +Ardan wished to convey a number of animals of different sorts, not +indeed a pair of every known species, as he could not see the necessity +of acclimatizing serpents, tigers, alligators, or any other noxious +beasts in the moon. “Nevertheless,” he said to Barbicane, “some +valuable and useful beasts, bullocks, cows, horses, and donkeys, would +bear the journey very well, and would also be very useful to us.” + +“I dare say, my dear Ardan,” replied the president, “but our +projectile-vehicle is no Noah’s ark, from which it differs both in +dimensions and object. Let us confine ourselves to possibilities.” + +After a prolonged discussion, it was agreed that the travelers should +restrict themselves to a sporting-dog belonging to Nicholl, and to a +large Newfoundland. Several packets of seeds were also included among +the necessaries. Michel Ardan, indeed, was anxious to add some sacks +full of earth to sow them in; as it was, he took a dozen shrubs +carefully wrapped up in straw to plant in the moon. + +The important question of provisions still remained; it being necessary +to provide against the possibility of their finding the moon absolutely +barren. Barbicane managed so successfully, that he supplied them with +sufficient rations for a year. These consisted of preserved meats and +vegetables, reduced by strong hydraulic pressure to the smallest +possible dimensions. They were also supplied with brandy, and took +water enough for two months, being confident, from astronomical +observations, that there was no lack of water on the moon’s surface. As +to provisions, doubtless the inhabitants of the _earth_ would find +nourishment somewhere in the _moon_. Ardan never questioned this; +indeed, had he done so, he would never have undertaken the journey. + +“Besides,” he said one day to his friends, “we shall not be completely +abandoned by our terrestrial friends; they will take care not to forget +us.” + +“No, indeed!” replied J. T. Maston. + +“Nothing would be simpler,” replied Ardan; “the Columbiad will be +always there. Well! whenever the moon is in a favorable condition as to +the zenith, if not to the perigee, that is to say about once a year, +could you not send us a shell packed with provisions, which we might +expect on some appointed day?” + +“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried J. T. Matson; “what an ingenious fellow! what a +splendid idea! Indeed, my good friends, we shall not forget you!” + +“I shall reckon upon you! Then, you see, we shall receive news +regularly from the earth, and we shall indeed be stupid if we hit upon +no plan for communicating with our good friends here!” + +These words inspired such confidence, that Michel Ardan carried all the +Gun Club with him in his enthusiasm. What he said seemed so simple and +so easy, so sure of success, that none could be so sordidly attached to +this earth as to hesitate to follow the three travelers on their lunar +expedition. + +All being ready at last, it remained to place the projectile in the +Columbiad, an operation abundantly accompanied by dangers and +difficulties. + +The enormous shell was conveyed to the summit of Stones Hill. There, +powerful cranes raised it, and held it suspended over the mouth of the +cylinder. + +It was a fearful moment! What if the chains should break under its +enormous weight? The sudden fall of such a body would inevitably cause +the gun-cotton to explode! + +Fortunately this did not happen; and some hours later the +projectile-vehicle descended gently into the heart of the cannon and +rested on its couch of pyroxyle, a veritable bed of explosive +eider-down. Its pressure had no result, other than the more effectual +ramming down of the charge in the Columbiad. + +“I have lost,” said the captain, who forthwith paid President Barbicane +the sum of three thousand dollars. + +Barbicane did not wish to accept the money from one of his +fellow-travelers, but gave way at last before the determination of +Nicholl, who wished before leaving the earth to fulfill all his +engagements. + +“Now,” said Michel Ardan, “I have only one thing more to wish for you, +my brave captain.” + +“What is that?” asked Nicholl. + +“It is that you may lose your two other bets! Then we shall be sure not +to be stopped on our journey!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. +FIRE! + + +The first of December had arrived! the fatal day! for, if the +projectile were not discharged that very night at 10h. 48m. 40s. P.M., +more than eighteen years must roll by before the moon would again +present herself under the same conditions of zenith and perigee. + +The weather was magnificent. Despite the approach of winter, the sun +shone brightly, and bathed in its radiant light that earth which three +of its denizens were about to abandon for a new world. + +How many persons lost their rest on the night which preceded this +long-expected day! All hearts beat with disquietude, save only the +heart of Michel Ardan. That imperturbable personage came and went with +his habitual business-like air, while nothing whatever denoted that any +unusual matter preoccupied his mind. + +After dawn, an innumerable multitude covered the prairie which extends, +as far as the eye can reach, round Stones Hill. Every quarter of an +hour the railway brought fresh accessions of sightseers; and, according +to the statement of the Tampa Town _Observer_, not less than five +millions of spectators thronged the soil of Florida. + +For a whole month previously, the mass of these persons had bivouacked +round the enclosure, and laid the foundations for a town which was +afterward called “Ardan’s Town.” The whole plain was covered with huts, +cottages, and tents. Every nation under the sun was represented there; +and every language might be heard spoken at the same time. It was a +perfect Babel re-enacted. All the various classes of American society +were mingled together in terms of absolute equality. Bankers, farmers, +sailors, cotton-planters, brokers, merchants, watermen, magistrates, +elbowed each other in the most free-and-easy way. Louisiana Creoles +fraternized with farmers from Indiana; Kentucky and Tennessee gentlemen +and haughty Virginians conversed with trappers and the half-savages of +the lakes and butchers from Cincinnati. Broad-brimmed white hats and +Panamas, blue-cotton trousers, light-colored stockings, cambric frills, +were all here displayed; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands, and +neckties, upon every finger, even upon the very ears, they wore an +assortment of rings, shirt-pins, brooches, and trinkets, of which the +value only equaled the execrable taste. Women, children, and servants, +in equally expensive dress, surrounded their husbands, fathers, or +masters, who resembled the patriarchs of tribes in the midst of their +immense households. + +At meal-times all fell to work upon the dishes peculiar to the Southern +States, and consumed with an appetite that threatened speedy exhaustion +of the victualing powers of Florida, fricasseed frogs, stuffed monkey, +fish chowder, underdone ’possum, and raccoon steaks. And as for the +liquors which accompanied this indigestible repast! The shouts, the +vociferations that resounded through the bars and taverns decorated +with glasses, tankards, and bottles of marvelous shape, mortars for +pounding sugar, and bundles of straws! “Mint-julep” roars one of the +barmen; “Claret sangaree!” shouts another; “Cocktail!” “Brandy-smash!” +“Real mint-julep in the new style!” All these cries intermingled +produced a bewildering and deafening hubbub. + +But on this day, 1st of December, such sounds were rare. No one thought +of eating or drinking, and at four P.M. there were vast numbers of +spectators who had not even taken their customary lunch! And, a still +more significant fact, even the national passion for play seemed +quelled for the time under the general excitement of the hour. + +Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agitation, such as precedes great +catastrophes, ran through the anxious multitude. An indescribable +uneasiness pervaded all minds, an indefinable sensation which oppressed +the heart. Every one wished it was over. + +However, about seven o’clock, the heavy silence was dissipated. The +moon rose above the horizon. Millions of hurrahs hailed her appearance. +She was punctual to the rendezvous, and shouts of welcome greeted her +on all sides, as her pale beams shone gracefully in the clear heavens. +At this moment the three intrepid travelers appeared. This was the +signal for renewed cries of still greater intensity. Instantly the vast +assemblage, as with one accord, struck up the national hymn of the +United States, and “Yankee Doodle,” sung by five million of hearty +throats, rose like a roaring tempest to the farthest limits of the +atmosphere. Then a profound silence reigned throughout the crowd. + +The Frenchman and the two Americans had by this time entered the +enclosure reserved in the center of the multitude. They were +accompanied by the members of the Gun Club, and by deputations sent +from all the European Observatories. Barbicane, cool and collected, was +giving his final directions. Nicholl, with compressed lips, his arms +crossed behind his back, walked with a firm and measured step. Michel +Ardan, always easy, dressed in thorough traveler’s costume, leathern +gaiters on his legs, pouch by his side, in loose velvet suit, cigar in +mouth, was full of inexhaustible gayety, laughing, joking, playing +pranks with J. T. Maston. In one word, he was the thorough “Frenchman” +(and worse, a “Parisian”) to the last moment. + +Ten o’clock struck! The moment had arrived for taking their places in +the projectile! The necessary operations for the descent, and the +subsequent removal of the cranes and scaffolding that inclined over the +mouth of the Columbiad, required a certain period of time. + +Barbicane had regulated his chronometer to the tenth part of a second +by that of Murchison the engineer, who was charged with the duty of +firing the gun by means of an electric spark. Thus the travelers +enclosed within the projectile were enabled to follow with their eyes +the impassive needle which marked the precise moment of their +departure. + +The moment had arrived for saying “good-by!” The scene was a touching +one. Despite his feverish gayety, even Michel Ardan was touched. J. T. +Maston had found in his own dry eyes one ancient tear, which he had +doubtless reserved for the occasion. He dropped it on the forehead of +his dear president. + +“Can I not go?” he said, “there is still time!” + +“Impossible, old fellow!” replied Barbicane. A few moments later, the +three fellow-travelers had ensconced themselves in the projectile, and +screwed down the plate which covered the entrance-aperture. The mouth +of the Columbiad, now completely disencumbered, was open entirely to +the sky. + +The moon advanced upward in a heaven of the purest clearness, +outshining in her passage the twinkling light of the stars. She passed +over the constellation of the Twins, and was now nearing the halfway +point between the horizon and the zenith. A terrible silence weighed +upon the entire scene! Not a breath of wind upon the earth! not a sound +of breathing from the countless chests of the spectators! Their hearts +seemed afraid to beat! All eyes were fixed upon the yawning mouth of +the Columbiad. + +Murchison followed with his eye the hand of his chronometer. It wanted +scarce forty seconds to the moment of departure, but each second seemed +to last an age! At the twentieth there was a general shudder, as it +occurred to the minds of that vast assemblage that the bold travelers +shut up within the projectile were also counting those terrible +seconds. Some few cries here and there escaped the crowd. + +“Thirty-five!—thirty-six!—thirty-seven!—thirty-eight!—thirty-nine!— +forty! FIRE!!!” + +Instantly Murchison pressed with his finger the key of the electric +battery, restored the current of the fluid, and discharged the spark +into the breech of the Columbiad. + +An appalling unearthly report followed instantly, such as can be +compared to nothing whatever known, not even to the roar of thunder, or +the blast of volcanic explosions! No words can convey the slightest +idea of the terrific sound! An immense spout of fire shot up from the +bowels of the earth as from a crater. The earth heaved up, and with +great difficulty some few spectators obtained a momentary glimpse of +the projectile victoriously cleaving the air in the midst of the fiery +vapors! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. +FOUL WEATHER + + +At the moment when that pyramid of fire rose to a prodigious height +into the air, the glare of flame lit up the whole of Florida; and for a +moment day superseded night over a considerable extent of the country. +This immense canopy of fire was perceived at a distance of one hundred +miles out at sea, and more than one ship’s captain entered in his log +the appearance of this gigantic meteor. + +The discharge of the Columbiad was accompanied by a perfect earthquake. +Florida was shaken to its very depths. The gases of the powder, +expanded by heat, forced back the atmospheric strata with tremendous +violence, and this artificial hurricane rushed like a water-spout +through the air. + +Not a single spectator remained on his feet! Men, women children, all +lay prostrate like ears of corn under a tempest. There ensued a +terrible tumult; a large number of persons were seriously injured. J. +T. Maston, who, despite all dictates of prudence, had kept in advance +of the mass, was pitched back 120 feet, shooting like a projectile over +the heads of his fellow-citizens. Three hundred thousand persons +remained deaf for a time, and as though struck stupefied. + +As soon as the first effects were over, the injured, the deaf, and +lastly, the crowd in general, woke up with frenzied cries. “Hurrah for +Ardan! Hurrah for Barbicane! Hurrah for Nicholl!” rose to the skies. +Thousands of persons, noses in air, armed with telescopes and +race-glasses, were questioning space, forgetting all contusions and +emotions in the one idea of watching for the projectile. They looked in +vain! It was no longer to be seen, and they were obliged to wait for +telegrams from Long’s Peak. The director of the Cambridge Observatory +was at his post on the Rocky Mountains; and to him, as a skillful and +persevering astronomer, all observations had been confided. + +But an unforeseen phenomenon came in to subject the public impatience +to a severe trial. + +The weather, hitherto so fine, suddenly changed; the sky became heavy +with clouds. It could not have been otherwise after the terrible +derangement of the atmospheric strata, and the dispersion of the +enormous quantity of vapor arising from the combustion of 200,000 +pounds of pyroxyle! + +On the morrow the horizon was covered with clouds—a thick and +impenetrable curtain between earth and sky, which unhappily extended as +far as the Rocky Mountains. It was a fatality! But since man had chosen +so to disturb the atmosphere, he was bound to accept the consequences +of his experiment. + +Supposing, now, that the experiment had succeeded, the travelers having +started on the 1st of December, at 10h. 46m. 40s. P.M., were due on the +4th at 0h. P.M. at their destination. So that up to that time it would +have been very difficult after all to have observed, under such +conditions, a body so small as the shell. Therefore they waited with +what patience they might. + +From the 4th to the 6th of December inclusive, the weather remaining +much the same in America, the great European instruments of Herschel, +Rosse, and Foucault, were constantly directed toward the moon, for the +weather was then magnificent; but the comparative weakness of their +glasses prevented any trustworthy observations being made. + +On the 7th the sky seemed to lighten. They were in hopes now, but their +hope was of but short duration, and at night again thick clouds hid the +starry vault from all eyes. + +Matters were now becoming serious, when on the 9th the sun reappeared +for an instant, as if for the purpose of teasing the Americans. It was +received with hisses; and wounded, no doubt, by such a reception, +showed itself very sparing of its rays. + +On the 10th, no change! J. T. Maston went nearly mad, and great fears +were entertained regarding the brain of this worthy individual, which +had hitherto been so well preserved within his gutta-percha cranium. + +But on the 11th one of those inexplicable tempests peculiar to those +intertropical regions was let loose in the atmosphere. A terrific east +wind swept away the groups of clouds which had been so long gathering, +and at night the semi-disc of the orb of night rode majestically amid +the soft constellations of the sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. +A NEW STAR + + +That very night, the startling news so impatiently awaited, burst like +a thunderbolt over the United States of the Union, and thence, darting +across the ocean, ran through all the telegraphic wires of the globe. +The projectile had been detected, thanks to the gigantic reflector of +Long’s Peak! Here is the note received by the director of the +Observatory of Cambridge. It contains the scientific conclusion +regarding this great experiment of the Gun Club. + +LONG’S PEAK, December 12. To the Officers of the Observatory of +Cambridge. The projectile discharged by the Columbiad at Stones Hill +has been detected by Messrs. Belfast and J. T. Maston, 12th of +December, at 8:47 P.M., the moon having entered her last quarter. This +projectile has not arrived at its destination. It has passed by the +side; but sufficiently near to be retained by the lunar attraction. + +The rectilinear movement has thus become changed into a circular motion +of extreme velocity, and it is now pursuing an elliptical orbit round +the moon, of which it has become a true satellite. + +The elements of this new star we have as yet been unable to determine; +we do not yet know the velocity of its passage. The distance which +separates it from the surface of the moon may be estimated at about +2,833 miles. + +However, two hypotheses come here into our consideration. + +1. Either the attraction of the moon will end by drawing them into +itself, and the travelers will attain their destination; or, + +2. The projectile, following an immutable law, will continue to +gravitate round the moon till the end of time. + +At some future time, our observations will be able to determine this +point, but till then the experiment of the Gun Club can have no other +result than to have provided our solar system with a new star. J. +BELFAST. + +To how many questions did this unexpected _denouement_ give rise? What +mysterious results was the future reserving for the investigation of +science? At all events, the names of Nicholl, Barbicane, and Michel +Ardan were certain to be immortalized in the annals of astronomy! + +When the dispatch from Long’s Peak had once become known, there was but +one universal feeling of surprise and alarm. Was it possible to go to +the aid of these bold travelers? No! for they had placed themselves +beyond the pale of humanity, by crossing the limits imposed by the +Creator on his earthly creatures. They had air enough for _two_ months; +they had victuals enough for _twelve;—but after that?_ There was only +one man who would not admit that the situation was desperate—he alone +had confidence; and that was their devoted friend J. T. Maston. + +Besides, he never let them get out of sight. His home was henceforth +the post at Long’s Peak; his horizon, the mirror of that immense +reflector. As soon as the moon rose above the horizon, he immediately +caught her in the field of the telescope; he never let her go for an +instant out of his sight, and followed her assiduously in her course +through the stellar spaces. He watched with untiring patience the +passage of the projectile across her silvery disc, and really the +worthy man remained in perpetual communication with his three friends, +whom he did not despair of seeing again some day. + +“Those three men,” said he, “have carried into space all the resources +of art, science, and industry. With that, one can do anything; and you +will see that, some day, they will come out all right.” + + + + +ROUND THE MOON + +A SEQUEL TO + +FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON + + + + +PRELIMINARY CHAPTER +THE FIRST PART OF THIS WORK, AND SERVING AS A PREFACE TO THE SECOND + + +During the year 186-, the whole world was greatly excited by a +scientific experiment unprecedented in the annals of science. The +members of the Gun Club, a circle of artillerymen formed at Baltimore +after the American war, conceived the idea of putting themselves in +communication with the moon!—yes, with the moon—by sending to her a +projectile. Their president, Barbicane, the promoter of the enterprise, +having consulted the astronomers of the Cambridge Observatory upon the +subject, took all necessary means to ensure the success of this +extraordinary enterprise, which had been declared practicable by the +majority of competent judges. After setting on foot a public +subscription, which realized nearly L1,200,000, they began the gigantic +work. + +According to the advice forwarded from the members of the Observatory, +the gun destined to launch the projectile had to be fixed in a country +situated between the 0 and 28th degrees of north or south latitude, in +order to aim at the moon when at the zenith; and its initiatory +velocity was fixed at twelve thousand yards to the second. Launched on +the 1st of December, at 10hrs. 46m. 40s. P.M., it ought to reach the +moon four days after its departure, that is on the 5th of December, at +midnight precisely, at the moment of her attaining her perigee, that is +her nearest distance from the earth, which is exactly 86,410 leagues +(French), or 238,833 miles mean distance (English). + +The principal members of the Gun Club, President Barbicane, Major +Elphinstone, the secretary Joseph T. Maston, and other learned men, +held several meetings, at which the shape and composition of the +projectile were discussed, also the position and nature of the gun, and +the quality and quantity of powder to be used. It was decided: First, +that the projectile should be a shell made of aluminum with a diameter +of 108 inches and a thickness of twelve inches to its walls; and should +weigh 19,250 pounds. Second, that the gun should be a Columbiad cast in +iron, 900 feet long, and run perpendicularly into the earth. Third, +that the charge should contain 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton, which, +giving out six billions of litres of gas in rear of the projectile, +would easily carry it toward the orb of night. + +These questions determined President Barbicane, assisted by Murchison +the engineer, to choose a spot situated in Florida, in 27° 7′ North +latitude, and 77° 3′ West (Greenwich) longitude. It was on this spot, +after stupendous labor, that the Columbiad was cast with full success. +Things stood thus, when an incident took place which increased the +interest attached to this great enterprise a hundredfold. + +A Frenchman, an enthusiastic Parisian, as witty as he was bold, asked +to be enclosed in the projectile, in order that he might reach the +moon, and reconnoiter this terrestrial satellite. The name of this +intrepid adventurer was Michel Ardan. He landed in America, was +received with enthusiasm, held meetings, saw himself carried in +triumph, reconciled President Barbicane to his mortal enemy, Captain +Nicholl, and, as a token of reconciliation, persuaded them both to +start with him in the projectile. The proposition being accepted, the +shape of the projectile was slightly altered. It was made of a +cylindro-conical form. This species of aerial car was lined with strong +springs and partitions to deaden the shock of departure. It was +provided with food for a year, water for some months, and gas for some +days. A self-acting apparatus supplied the three travelers with air to +breathe. At the same time, on one of the highest points of the Rocky +Mountains, the Gun Club had a gigantic telescope erected, in order that +they might be able to follow the course of the projectile through +space. All was then ready. + +On the 30th of November, at the hour fixed upon, from the midst of an +extraordinary crowd of spectators, the departure took place, and for +the first time, three human beings quitted the terrestrial globe, and +launched into inter-planetary space with almost a certainty of reaching +their destination. These bold travelers, Michel Ardan, President +Barbicane, and Captain Nicholl, ought to make the passage in +ninety-seven hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seconds. Consequently, +their arrival on the lunar disc could not take place until the 5th of +December at twelve at night, at the exact moment when the moon should +be full, and not on the 4th, as some badly informed journalists had +announced. + +But an unforeseen circumstance, viz., the detonation produced by the +Columbiad, had the immediate effect of troubling the terrestrial +atmosphere, by accumulating a large quantity of vapor, a phenomenon +which excited universal indignation, for the moon was hidden from the +eyes of the watchers for several nights. + +The worthy Joseph T. Maston, the staunchest friend of the three +travelers, started for the Rocky Mountains, accompanied by the Hon. J. +Belfast, director of the Cambridge Observatory, and reached the station +of Long’s Peak, where the telescope was erected which brought the moon +within an apparent distance of two leagues. The honorable secretary of +the Gun Club wished himself to observe the vehicle of his daring +friends. + +The accumulation of the clouds in the atmosphere prevented all +observation on the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th of December. +Indeed it was thought that all observations would have to be put off to +the 3d of January in the following year; for the moon entering its last +quarter on the 11th, would then only present an ever-decreasing portion +of her disc, insufficient to allow of their following the course of the +projectile. + +At length, to the general satisfaction, a heavy storm cleared the +atmosphere on the night of the 11th and 12th of December, and the moon, +with half-illuminated disc, was plainly to be seen upon the black sky. + +That very night a telegram was sent from the station of Long’s Peak by +Joseph T. Maston and Belfast to the gentlemen of the Cambridge +Observatory, announcing that on the 11th of December at 8h. 47m. P.M., +the projectile launched by the Columbiad of Stones Hill had been +detected by Messrs. Belfast and Maston—that it had deviated from its +course from some unknown cause, and had not reached its destination; +but that it had passed near enough to be retained by the lunar +attraction; that its rectilinear movement had been changed to a +circular one, and that following an elliptical orbit round the star of +night it had become its satellite. The telegram added that the elements +of this new star had not yet been calculated; and indeed three +observations made upon a star in three different positions are +necessary to determine these elements. Then it showed that the distance +separating the projectile from the lunar surface “might” be reckoned at +about 2,833 miles. + +It ended with the double hypothesis: either the attraction of the moon +would draw it to herself, and the travelers thus attain their end; or +that the projectile, held in one immutable orbit, would gravitate +around the lunar disc to all eternity. + +With such alternatives, what would be the fate of the travelers? +Certainly they had food for some time. But supposing they did succeed +in their rash enterprise, how would they return? Could they ever +return? Should they hear from them? These questions, debated by the +most learned pens of the day, strongly engrossed the public attention. + +It is advisable here to make a remark which ought to be well considered +by hasty observers. When a purely speculative discovery is announced to +the public, it cannot be done with too much prudence. No one is obliged +to discover either a planet, a comet, or a satellite; and whoever makes +a mistake in such a case exposes himself justly to the derision of the +mass. Far better is it to wait; and that is what the impatient Joseph +T. Maston should have done before sending this telegram forth to the +world, which, according to his idea, told the whole result of the +enterprise. Indeed this telegram contained two sorts of errors, as was +proved eventually. First, errors of observation, concerning the +distance of the projectile from the surface of the moon, for on the +11th of December it was impossible to see it; and what Joseph T. Maston +had seen, or thought he saw, could not have been the projectile of the +Columbiad. Second, errors of theory on the fate in store for the said +projectile; for in making it a satellite of the moon, it was putting it +in direct contradiction of all mechanical laws. + +One single hypothesis of the observers of Long’s Peak could ever be +realized, that which foresaw the case of the travelers (if still alive) +uniting their efforts with the lunar attraction to attain the surface +of the disc. + +Now these men, as clever as they were daring, had survived the terrible +shock consequent on their departure, and it is their journey in the +projectile car which is here related in its most dramatic as well as in +its most singular details. This recital will destroy many illusions and +surmises; but it will give a true idea of the singular changes in store +for such an enterprise; it will bring out the scientific instincts of +Barbicane, the industrious resources of Nicholl, and the audacious +humor of Michel Ardan. Besides this, it will prove that their worthy +friend, Joseph T. Maston, was wasting his time, while leaning over the +gigantic telescope he watched the course of the moon through the starry +space. + + + + +CHAPTER I. +TWENTY MINUTES PAST TEN TO FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES PAST TEN P. M. + + +As ten o’clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and Nicholl, took leave +of the numerous friends they were leaving on the earth. The two dogs, +destined to propagate the canine race on the lunar continents, were +already shut up in the projectile. + +The three travelers approached the orifice of the enormous cast-iron +tube, and a crane let them down to the conical top of the projectile. +There, an opening made for the purpose gave them access to the aluminum +car. The tackle belonging to the crane being hauled from outside, the +mouth of the Columbiad was instantly disencumbered of its last +supports. + +Nicholl, once introduced with his companions inside the projectile, +began to close the opening by means of a strong plate, held in position +by powerful screws. Other plates, closely fitted, covered the +lenticular glasses, and the travelers, hermetically enclosed in their +metal prison, were plunged in profound darkness. + +“And now, my dear companions,” said Michel Ardan, “let us make +ourselves at home; I am a domesticated man and strong in housekeeping. +We are bound to make the best of our new lodgings, and make ourselves +comfortable. And first let us try and see a little. Gas was not +invented for moles.” + +So saying, the thoughtless fellow lit a match by striking it on the +sole of his boot; and approached the burner fixed to the receptacle, in +which the carbonized hydrogen, stored at high pressure, sufficed for +the lighting and warming of the projectile for a hundred and forty-four +hours, or six days and six nights. The gas caught fire, and thus +lighted the projectile looked like a comfortable room with thickly +padded walls, furnished with a circular divan, and a roof rounded in +the shape of a dome. + +Michel Ardan examined everything, and declared himself satisfied with +his installation. + +“It is a prison,” said he, “but a traveling prison; and, with the right +of putting my nose to the window, I could well stand a lease of a +hundred years. You smile, Barbicane. Have you any _arriere-pensee_? Do +you say to yourself, ‘This prison may be our tomb?’ Tomb, perhaps; +still I would not change it for Mahomet’s, which floats in space but +never advances an inch!” + +While Michel Ardan was speaking, Barbicane and Nicholl were making +their last preparations. + +Nicholl’s chronometer marked twenty minutes past ten P.M. when the +three travelers were finally enclosed in their projectile. This +chronometer was set within the tenth of a second by that of Murchison +the engineer. Barbicane consulted it. + +“My friends,” said he, “it is twenty minutes past ten. At forty- seven +minutes past ten Murchison will launch the electric spark on the wire +which communicates with the charge of the Columbiad. At that precise +moment we shall leave our spheroid. Thus we still have twenty-seven +minutes to remain on the earth.” + +“Twenty-six minutes thirteen seconds,” replied the methodical Nicholl. + +“Well!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, in a good-humored tone, “much may be +done in twenty-six minutes. The gravest questions of morals and +politics may be discussed, and even solved. Twenty-six minutes well +employed are worth more than twenty-six years in which nothing is done. +Some seconds of a Pascal or a Newton are more precious than the whole +existence of a crowd of raw simpletons—” + +“And you conclude, then, you everlasting talker?” asked Barbicane. + +“I conclude that we have twenty-six minutes left,” replied Ardan. + +“Twenty-four only,” said Nicholl. + +“Well, twenty-four, if you like, my noble captain,” said Ardan; +“twenty-four minutes in which to investigate—” + +“Michel,” said Barbicane, “during the passage we shall have plenty of +time to investigate the most difficult questions. For the present we +must occupy ourselves with our departure.” + +“Are we not ready?” + +“Doubtless; but there are still some precautions to be taken, to deaden +as much as possible the first shock.” + +“Have we not the water-cushions placed between the partition- breaks, +whose elasticity will sufficiently protect us?” + +“I hope so, Michel,” replied Barbicane gently, “but I am not sure.” + +“Ah, the joker!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. “He hopes!—He is not sure!—and +he waits for the moment when we are encased to make this deplorable +admission! I beg to be allowed to get out!” + +“And how?” asked Barbicane. + +“Humph!” said Michel Ardan, “it is not easy; we are in the train, and +the guard’s whistle will sound before twenty-four minutes are over.” + +“Twenty,” said Nicholl. + +For some moments the three travelers looked at each other. Then they +began to examine the objects imprisoned with them. + +“Everything is in its place,” said Barbicane. “We have now to decide +how we can best place ourselves to resist the shock. Position cannot be +an indifferent matter; and we must, as much as possible, prevent the +rush of blood to the head.” + +“Just so,” said Nicholl. + +“Then,” replied Michel Ardan, ready to suit the action to the word, +“let us put our heads down and our feet in the air, like the clowns in +the grand circus.” + +“No,” said Barbicane, “let us stretch ourselves on our sides; we shall +resist the shock better that way. Remember that, when the projectile +starts, it matters little whether we are in it or before it; it amounts +to much the same thing.” + +“If it is only ‘much the same thing,’ I may cheer up,” said Michel +Ardan. + +“Do you approve of my idea, Nicholl?” asked Barbicane. + +“Entirely,” replied the captain. “We’ve still thirteen minutes and a +half.” + +“That Nicholl is not a man,” exclaimed Michel; “he is a chronometer +with seconds, an escape, and eight holes.” + +But his companions were not listening; they were taking up their last +positions with the most perfect coolness. They were like two methodical +travelers in a car, seeking to place themselves as comfortably as +possible. + +We might well ask ourselves of what materials are the hearts of these +Americans made, to whom the approach of the most frightful danger added +no pulsation. + +Three thick and solidly-made couches had been placed in the projectile. +Nicholl and Barbicane placed them in the center of the disc forming the +floor. There the three travelers were to stretch themselves some +moments before their departure. + +During this time, Ardan, not being able to keep still, turned in his +narrow prison like a wild beast in a cage, chatting with his friends, +speaking to the dogs Diana and Satellite, to whom, as may be seen, he +had given significant names. + +“Ah, Diana! Ah, Satellite!” he exclaimed, teasing them; “so you are +going to show the moon-dogs the good habits of the dogs of the earth! +That will do honor to the canine race! If ever we do come down again, I +will bring a cross type of ‘moon-dogs,’ which will make a stir!” + +“If there _are_ dogs in the moon,” said Barbicane. + +“There are,” said Michel Ardan, “just as there are horses, cows, +donkeys, and chickens. I bet that we shall find chickens.” + +“A hundred dollars we shall find none!” said Nicholl. + +“Done, my captain!” replied Ardan, clasping Nicholl’s hand. “But, by +the bye, you have already lost three bets with our president, as the +necessary funds for the enterprise have been found, as the operation of +casting has been successful, and lastly, as the Columbiad has been +loaded without accident, six thousand dollars.” + +“Yes,” replied Nicholl. “Thirty-seven minutes six seconds past ten.” + +“It is understood, captain. Well, before another quarter of an hour you +will have to count nine thousand dollars to the president; four +thousand because the Columbiad will not burst, and five thousand +because the projectile will rise more than six miles in the air.” + +“I have the dollars,” replied Nicholl, slapping the pocket of this +coat. “I only ask to be allowed to pay.” + +“Come, Nicholl. I see that you are a man of method, which I could never +be; but indeed you have made a series of bets of very little advantage +to yourself, allow me to tell you.” + +“And why?” asked Nicholl. + +“Because, if you gain the first, the Columbiad will have burst, and the +projectile with it; and Barbicane will no longer be there to reimburse +your dollars.” + +“My stake is deposited at the bank in Baltimore,” replied Barbicane +simply; “and if Nicholl is not there, it will go to his heirs.” + +“Ah, you practical men!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “I admire you the more +for not being able to understand you.” + +“Forty-two minutes past ten!” said Nicholl. + +“Only five minutes more!” answered Barbicane. + +“Yes, five little minutes!” replied Michel Ardan; “and we are enclosed +in a projectile, at the bottom of a gun 900 feet long! And under this +projectile are rammed 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton, which is equal to +1,600,000 pounds of ordinary powder! And friend Murchison, with his +chronometer in hand, his eye fixed on the needle, his finger on the +electric apparatus, is counting the seconds preparatory to launching us +into interplanetary space.” + +“Enough, Michel, enough!” said Barbicane, in a serious voice; “let us +prepare. A few instants alone separate us from an eventful moment. One +clasp of the hand, my friends.” + +“Yes,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, more moved than he wished to appear; and +the three bold companions were united in a last embrace. + +“God preserve us!” said the religious Barbicane. + +Michel Ardan and Nicholl stretched themselves on the couches placed in +the center of the disc. + +“Forty-seven minutes past ten!” murmured the captain. + +“Twenty seconds more!” Barbicane quickly put out the gas and lay down +by his companions, and the profound silence was only broken by the +ticking of the chronometer marking the seconds. + +Suddenly a dreadful shock was felt, and the projectile, under the force +of six billions of litres of gas, developed by the combustion of +pyroxyle, mounted into space. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +THE FIRST HALF-HOUR + + +What had happened? What effect had this frightful shock produced? Had +the ingenuity of the constructors of the projectile obtained any happy +result? Had the shock been deadened, thanks to the springs, the four +plugs, the water-cushions, and the partition-breaks? Had they been able +to subdue the frightful pressure of the initiatory speed of more than +11,000 yards, which was enough to traverse Paris or New York in a +second? This was evidently the question suggested to the thousand +spectators of this moving scene. They forgot the aim of the journey, +and thought only of the travelers. And if one of them—Joseph T. Maston +for example—could have cast one glimpse into the projectile, what would +he have seen? + +Nothing then. The darkness was profound. But its cylindro- conical +partitions had resisted wonderfully. Not a rent or a dent anywhere! The +wonderful projectile was not even heated under the intense deflagration +of the powder, nor liquefied, as they seemed to fear, in a shower of +aluminum. + +The interior showed but little disorder; indeed, only a few objects had +been violently thrown toward the roof; but the most important seemed +not to have suffered from the shock at all; their fixtures were intact. + +On the movable disc, sunk down to the bottom by the smashing of the +partition-breaks and the escape of the water, three bodies lay +apparently lifeless. Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan—did they +still breathe? or was the projectile nothing now but a metal coffin, +bearing three corpses into space? + +Some minutes after the departure of the projectile, one of the bodies +moved, shook its arms, lifted its head, and finally succeeded in +getting on its knees. It was Michel Ardan. He felt himself all over, +gave a sonorous “Hem!” and then said: + +“Michel Ardan is whole. How about the others?” + +The courageous Frenchman tried to rise, but could not stand. His head +swam, from the rush of blood; he was blind; he was a drunken man. + +“Bur-r!” said he. “It produces the same effect as two bottles of +Corton, though perhaps less agreeable to swallow.” Then, passing his +hand several times across his forehead and rubbing his temples, he +called in a firm voice: + +“Nicholl! Barbicane!” + +He waited anxiously. No answer; not even a sigh to show that the hearts +of his companions were still beating. He called again. The same +silence. + +“The devil!” he exclaimed. “They look as if they had fallen from a +fifth story on their heads. Bah!” he added, with that imperturbable +confidence which nothing could check, “if a Frenchman can get on his +knees, two Americans ought to be able to get on their feet. But first +let us light up.” + +Ardan felt the tide of life return by degrees. His blood became calm, +and returned to its accustomed circulation. Another effort restored his +equilibrium. He succeeded in rising, drew a match from his pocket, and +approaching the burner lighted it. The receiver had not suffered at +all. The gas had not escaped. Besides, the smell would have betrayed +it; and in that case Michel Ardan could not have carried a lighted +match with impunity through the space filled with hydrogen. The gas +mixing with the air would have produced a detonating mixture, and the +explosion would have finished what the shock had perhaps begun. When +the burner was lit, Ardan leaned over the bodies of his companions: +they were lying one on the other, an inert mass, Nicholl above, +Barbicane underneath. + +Ardan lifted the captain, propped him up against the divan, and began +to rub vigorously. This means, used with judgment, restored Nicholl, +who opened his eyes, and instantly recovering his presence of mind, +seized Ardan’s hand and looked around him. + +“And Barbicane?” said he. + +“Each in turn,” replied Michel Ardan. “I began with you, Nicholl, +because you were on the top. Now let us look to Barbicane.” Saying +which, Ardan and Nicholl raised the president of the Gun Club and laid +him on the divan. He seemed to have suffered more than either of his +companions; he was bleeding, but Nicholl was reassured by finding that +the hemorrhage came from a slight wound on the shoulder, a mere graze, +which he bound up carefully. + +Still, Barbicane was a long time coming to himself, which frightened +his friends, who did not spare friction. + +“He breathes though,” said Nicholl, putting his ear to the chest of the +wounded man. + +“Yes,” replied Ardan, “he breathes like a man who has some notion of +that daily operation. Rub, Nicholl; let us rub harder.” And the two +improvised practitioners worked so hard and so well that Barbicane +recovered his senses. He opened his eyes, sat up, took his two friends +by the hands, and his first words were— + +“Nicholl, are we moving?” + +Nicholl and Ardan looked at each other; they had not yet troubled +themselves about the projectile; their first thought had been for the +traveler, not for the car. + +“Well, are we really moving?” repeated Michel Ardan. + +“Or quietly resting on the soil of Florida?” asked Nicholl. + +“Or at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico?” added Michel Ardan. + +“What an idea!” exclaimed the president. + +And this double hypothesis suggested by his companions had the effect +of recalling him to his senses. In any case they could not decide on +the position of the projectile. Its apparent immovability, and the want +of communication with the outside, prevented them from solving the +question. Perhaps the projectile was unwinding its course through +space. Perhaps after a short rise it had fallen upon the earth, or even +in the Gulf of Mexico—a fall which the narrowness of the peninsula of +Florida would render not impossible. + +The case was serious, the problem interesting, and one that must be +solved as soon as possible. Thus, highly excited, Barbicane’s moral +energy triumphed over physical weakness, and he rose to his feet. He +listened. Outside was perfect silence; but the thick padding was enough +to intercept all sounds coming from the earth. But one circumstance +struck Barbicane, viz., that the temperature inside the projectile was +singularly high. The president drew a thermometer from its case and +consulted it. The instrument showed 81° Fahr. + +“Yes,” he exclaimed, “yes, we are moving! This stifling heat, +penetrating through the partitions of the projectile, is produced by +its friction on the atmospheric strata. It will soon diminish, because +we are already floating in space, and after having nearly stifled, we +shall have to suffer intense cold. + +“What!” said Michel Ardan. “According to your showing, Barbicane, we +are already beyond the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere?” + +“Without a doubt, Michel. Listen to me. It is fifty-five minutes past +ten; we have been gone about eight minutes; and if our initiatory speed +has not been checked by the friction, six seconds would be enough for +us to pass through the forty miles of atmosphere which surrounds the +globe.” + +“Just so,” replied Nicholl; “but in what proportion do you estimate the +diminution of speed by friction?” + +“In the proportion of one-third, Nicholl. This diminution is +considerable, but according to my calculations it is nothing less. If, +then, we had an initiatory speed of 12,000 yards, on leaving the +atmosphere this speed would be reduced to 9,165 yards. In any case we +have already passed through this interval, and—” + +“And then,” said Michel Ardan, “friend Nicholl has lost his two bets: +four thousand dollars because the Columbiad did not burst; five +thousand dollars because the projectile has risen more than six miles. +Now, Nicholl, pay up.” + +“Let us prove it first,” said the captain, “and we will pay afterward. +It is quite possible that Barbicane’s reasoning is correct, and that I +have lost my nine thousand dollars. But a new hypothesis presents +itself to my mind, and it annuls the wager.” + +“What is that?” asked Barbicane quickly. + +“The hypothesis that, for some reason or other, fire was never set to +the powder, and we have not started at all.” + +“My goodness, captain,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that hypothesis is not +worthy of my brain! It cannot be a serious one. For have we not been +half annihilated by the shock? Did I not recall you to life? Is not the +president’s shoulder still bleeding from the blow it has received?” + +“Granted,” replied Nicholl; “but one question.” + +“Well, captain?” + +“Did you hear the detonation, which certainly ought to be loud?” + +“No,” replied Ardan, much surprised; “certainly I did not hear the +detonation.” + +“And you, Barbicane?” + +“Nor I, either.” + +“Very well,” said Nicholl. + +“Well now,” murmured the president “why did we not hear the +detonation?” + +The three friends looked at each other with a disconcerted air. It was +quite an inexplicable phenomenon. The projectile had started, and +consequently there must have been a detonation. + +“Let us first find out where we are,” said Barbicane, “and let down +this panel.” + +This very simple operation was soon accomplished. + +The nuts which held the bolts to the outer plates of the right-hand +scuttle gave way under the pressure of the English wrench. These bolts +were pushed outside, and the buffers covered with India-rubber stopped +up the holes which let them through. Immediately the outer plate fell +back upon its hinges like a porthole, and the lenticular glass which +closed the scuttle appeared. A similar one was let into the thick +partition on the opposite side of the projectile, another in the top of +the dome, and finally a fourth in the middle of the base. They could, +therefore, make observations in four different directions; the +firmament by the side and most direct windows, the earth or the moon by +the upper and under openings in the projectile. + +Barbicane and his two companions immediately rushed to the uncovered +window. But it was lit by no ray of light. Profound darkness surrounded +them, which, however, did not prevent the president from exclaiming: + +“No, my friends, we have not fallen back upon the earth; no, nor are we +submerged in the Gulf of Mexico. Yes! we are mounting into space. See +those stars shining in the night, and that impenetrable darkness heaped +up between the earth and us!” + +“Hurrah! hurrah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan and Nicholl in one voice. + +Indeed, this thick darkness proved that the projectile had left the +earth, for the soil, brilliantly lit by the moon-beams would have been +visible to the travelers, if they had been lying on its surface. This +darkness also showed that the projectile had passed the atmospheric +strata, for the diffused light spread in the air would have been +reflected on the metal walls, which reflection was wanting. This light +would have lit the window, and the window was dark. Doubt was no longer +possible; the travelers had left the earth. + +“I have lost,” said Nicholl. + +“I congratulate you,” replied Ardan. + +“Here are the nine thousand dollars,” said the captain, drawing a roll +of paper dollars from his pocket. + +“Will you have a receipt for it?” asked Barbicane, taking the sum. + +“If you do not mind,” answered Nicholl; “it is more business-like.” + +And coolly and seriously, as if he had been at his strong-box, the +president drew forth his notebook, tore out a blank leaf, wrote a +proper receipt in pencil, dated and signed it with the usual +flourish,[1] and gave it to the captain, who carefully placed it in his +pocketbook. Michel Ardan, taking off his hat, bowed to his two +companions without speaking. So much formality under such circumstances +left him speechless. He had never before seen anything so “American.” + + [1] This is a purely French habit. + + +This affair settled, Barbicane and Nicholl had returned to the window, +and were watching the constellations. The stars looked like bright +points on the black sky. But from that side they could not see the orb +of night, which, traveling from east to west, would rise by degrees +toward the zenith. Its absence drew the following remark from Ardan: + +“And the moon; will she perchance fail at our rendezvous?” + +“Do not alarm yourself,” said Barbicane; “our future globe is at its +post, but we cannot see her from this side; let us open the other.” + +“As Barbicane was about leaving the window to open the opposite +scuttle, his attention was attracted by the approach of a brilliant +object. It was an enormous disc, whose colossal dimension could not be +estimated. Its face, which was turned to the earth, was very bright. +One might have thought it a small moon reflecting the light of the +large one. She advanced with great speed, and seemed to describe an +orbit round the earth, which would intersect the passage of the +projectile. This body revolved upon its axis, and exhibited the +phenomena of all celestial bodies abandoned in space. + +“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “What is that? another projectile?” + +Barbicane did not answer. The appearance of this enormous body +surprised and troubled him. A collision was possible, and might be +attended with deplorable results; either the projectile would deviate +from its path, or a shock, breaking its impetus, might precipitate it +to earth; or, lastly, it might be irresistibly drawn away by the +powerful asteroid. The president caught at a glance the consequences of +these three hypotheses, either of which would, one way or the other, +bring their experiment to an unsuccessful and fatal termination. His +companions stood silently looking into space. The object grew rapidly +as it approached them, and by an optical illusion the projectile seemed +to be throwing itself before it. + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “we shall run into one another!” + +Instinctively the travelers drew back. Their dread was great, but it +did not last many seconds. The asteroid passed several hundred yards +from the projectile and disappeared, not so much from the rapidity of +its course, as that its face being opposite the moon, it was suddenly +merged into the perfect darkness of space. + +“A happy journey to you,” exclaimed Michel Ardan, with a sigh of +relief. “Surely infinity of space is large enough for a poor little +projectile to walk through without fear. Now, what is this portentous +globe which nearly struck us?” + +“I know,” replied Barbicane. + +“Oh, indeed! you know everything.” + +“It is,” said Barbicane, “a simple meteorite, but an enormous one, +which the attraction of the earth has retained as a satellite.” + +“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “the earth then has two moons +like Neptune?” + +“Yes, my friends, two moons, though it passes generally for having only +one; but this second moon is so small, and its speed so great, that the +inhabitants of the earth cannot see it. It was by noticing disturbances +that a French astronomer, M. Petit, was able to determine the existence +of this second satellite and calculate its elements. According to his +observations, this meteorite will accomplish its revolution around the +earth in three hours and twenty minutes, which implies a wonderful rate +of speed.” + +“Do all astronomers admit the existence of this satellite?” asked +Nicholl. + +“No,” replied Barbicane; “but if, like us, they had met it, they could +no longer doubt it. Indeed, I think that this meteorite, which, had it +struck the projectile, would have much embarrassed us, will give us the +means of deciding what our position in space is.” + +“How?” said Ardan. + +“Because its distance is known, and when we met it, we were exactly +four thousand six hundred and fifty miles from the surface of the +terrestrial globe.” + +“More than two thousand French leagues,” exclaimed Michel Ardan. “That +beats the express trains of the pitiful globe called the earth.” + +“I should think so,” replied Nicholl, consulting his chronometer; “it +is eleven o’clock, and it is only thirteen minutes since we left the +American continent.” + +“Only thirteen minutes?” said Barbicane. + +“Yes,” said Nicholl; “and if our initiatory speed of twelve thousand +yards has been kept up, we shall have made about twenty thousand miles +in the hour.” + +“That is all very well, my friends,” said the president, “but the +insoluble question still remains. Why did we not hear the detonation of +the Columbiad?” + +For want of an answer the conversation dropped, and Barbicane began +thoughtfully to let down the shutter of the second side. He succeeded; +and through the uncovered glass the moon filled the projectile with a +brilliant light. Nicholl, as an economical man, put out the gas, now +useless, and whose brilliancy prevented any observation of the +inter-planetary space. + +The lunar disc shone with wonderful purity. Her rays, no longer +filtered through the vapory atmosphere of the terrestrial globe, shone +through the glass, filling the air in the interior of the projectile +with silvery reflections. The black curtain of the firmament in reality +heightened the moon’s brilliancy, which in this void of ether +unfavorable to diffusion did not eclipse the neighboring stars. The +heavens, thus seen, presented quite a new aspect, and one which the +human eye could never dream of. One may conceive the interest with +which these bold men watched the orb of night, the great aim of their +journey. + +In its motion the earth’s satellite was insensibly nearing the zenith, +the mathematical point which it ought to attain ninety-six hours later. +Her mountains, her plains, every projection was as clearly discernible +to their eyes as if they were observing it from some spot upon the +earth; but its light was developed through space with wonderful +intensity. The disc shone like a platinum mirror. Of the earth flying +from under their feet, the travelers had lost all recollection. + +It was captain Nicholl who first recalled their attention to the +vanishing globe. + +“Yes,” said Michel Ardan, “do not let us be ungrateful to it. Since we +are leaving our country, let our last looks be directed to it. I wish +to see the earth once more before it is quite hidden from my eyes.” + +To satisfy his companions, Barbicane began to uncover the window at the +bottom of the projectile, which would allow them to observe the earth +direct. The disc, which the force of the projection had beaten down to +the base, was removed, not without difficulty. Its fragments, placed +carefully against a wall, might serve again upon occasion. Then a +circular gap appeared, nineteen inches in diameter, hollowed out of the +lower part of the projectile. A glass cover, six inches thick and +strengthened with upper fastenings, closed it tightly. Beneath was +fixed an aluminum plate, held in place by bolts. The screws being +undone, and the bolts let go, the plate fell down, and visible +communication was established between the interior and the exterior. + +Michel Ardan knelt by the glass. It was cloudy, seemingly opaque. + +“Well!” he exclaimed, “and the earth?” + +“The earth?” said Barbicane. “There it is.” + +“What! that little thread; that silver crescent?” + +“Doubtless, Michel. In four days, when the moon will be full, at the +very time we shall reach it, the earth will be new, and will only +appear to us as a slender crescent which will soon disappear, and for +some days will be enveloped in utter darkness.” + +“That the earth?” repeated Michel Ardan, looking with all his eyes at +the thin slip of his native planet. + +The explanation given by President Barbicane was correct. The earth, +with respect to the projectile, was entering its last phase. It was in +its octant, and showed a crescent finely traced on the dark background +of the sky. Its light, rendered bluish by the thick strata of the +atmosphere was less intense than that of the crescent moon, but it was +of considerable dimensions, and looked like an enormous arch stretched +across the firmament. Some parts brilliantly lighted, especially on its +concave part, showed the presence of high mountains, often disappearing +behind thick spots, which are never seen on the lunar disc. They were +rings of clouds placed concentrically round the terrestrial globe. + +While the travelers were trying to pierce the profound darkness, a +brilliant cluster of shooting stars burst upon their eyes. Hundreds of +meteorites, ignited by the friction of the atmosphere, irradiated the +shadow of the luminous train, and lined the cloudy parts of the disc +with their fire. At this period the earth was in its perihelion, and +the month of December is so propitious to these shooting stars, that +astronomers have counted as many as twenty-four thousand in an hour. +But Michel Ardan, disdaining scientific reasonings, preferred thinking +that the earth was thus saluting the departure of her three children +with her most brilliant fireworks. + +Indeed this was all they saw of the globe lost in the solar world, +rising and setting to the great planets like a simple morning or +evening star! This globe, where they had left all their affections, was +nothing more than a fugitive crescent! + +Long did the three friends look without speaking, though united in +heart, while the projectile sped onward with an ever-decreasing speed. +Then an irresistible drowsiness crept over their brain. Was it +weariness of body and mind? No doubt; for after the over-excitement of +those last hours passed upon earth, reaction was inevitable. + +“Well,” said Nicholl, “since we must sleep, let us sleep.” + +And stretching themselves on their couches, they were all three soon in +a profound slumber. + +But they had not forgotten themselves more than a quarter of an hour, +when Barbicane sat up suddenly, and rousing his companions with a loud +voice, exclaimed— + +“I have found it!” + +“What have you found?” asked Michel Ardan, jumping from his bed. + +“The reason why we did not hear the detonation of the Columbiad.” + +“And it is—?” said Nicholl. + +“Because our projectile traveled faster than the sound!” + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THEIR PLACE OF SHELTER + + +This curious but certainly correct explanation once given, the three +friends returned to their slumbers. Could they have found a calmer or +more peaceful spot to sleep in? On the earth, houses, towns, cottages, +and country feel every shock given to the exterior of the globe. On +sea, the vessels rocked by the waves are still in motion; in the air, +the balloon oscillates incessantly on the fluid strata of divers +densities. This projectile alone, floating in perfect space, in the +midst of perfect silence, offered perfect repose. + +Thus the sleep of our adventurous travelers might have been +indefinitely prolonged, if an unexpected noise had not awakened them at +about seven o’clock in the morning of the 2nd of December, eight hours +after their departure. + +This noise was a very natural barking. + +“The dogs! it is the dogs!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, rising at once. + +“They are hungry,” said Nicholl. + +“By Jove!” replied Michel, “we have forgotten them.” + +“Where are they?” asked Barbicane. + +They looked and found one of the animals crouched under the divan. +Terrified and shaken by the initiatory shock, it had remained in the +corner till its voice returned with the pangs of hunger. It was the +amiable Diana, still very confused, who crept out of her retreat, +though not without much persuasion, Michel Ardan encouraging her with +most gracious words. + +“Come, Diana,” said he: “come, my girl! thou whose destiny will be +marked in the cynegetic annals; thou whom the pagans would have given +as companion to the god Anubis, and Christians as friend to St. Roch; +thou who art rushing into interplanetary space, and wilt perhaps be the +Eve of all Selenite dogs! come, Diana, come here.” + +Diana, flattered or not, advanced by degrees, uttering plaintive cries. + +“Good,” said Barbicane: “I see Eve, but where is Adam?” + +“Adam?” replied Michel; “Adam cannot be far off; he is there somewhere; +we must call him. Satellite! here, Satellite!” + +But Satellite did not appear. Diana would not leave off howling. They +found, however, that she was not bruised, and they gave her a pie, +which silenced her complaints. As to Satellite, he seemed quite lost. +They had to hunt a long time before finding him in one of the upper +compartments of the projectile, whither some unaccountable shock must +have violently hurled him. The poor beast, much hurt, was in a piteous +state. + +“The devil!” said Michel. + +They brought the unfortunate dog down with great care. Its skull had +been broken against the roof, and it seemed unlikely that he could +recover from such a shock. Meanwhile, he was stretched comfortably on a +cushion. Once there, he heaved a sigh. + +“We will take care of you,” said Michel; “we are responsible for your +existence. I would rather lose an arm than a paw of my poor Satellite.” + +Saying which, he offered some water to the wounded dog, who swallowed +it with avidity. + +This attention paid, the travelers watched the earth and the moon +attentively. The earth was now only discernible by a cloudy disc ending +in a crescent, rather more contracted than that of the previous +evening; but its expanse was still enormous, compared with that of the +moon, which was approaching nearer and nearer to a perfect circle. + +“By Jove!” said Michel Ardan, “I am really sorry that we did not start +when the earth was full, that is to say, when our globe was in +opposition to the sun.” + +“Why?” said Nicholl. + +“Because we should have seen our continents and seas in a new light—the +first resplendent under the solar rays, the latter cloudy as +represented on some maps of the world. I should like to have seen those +poles of the earth on which the eye of man has never yet rested.” + +“I dare say,” replied Barbicane; “but if the earth had been _full_, the +moon would have been _new_; that is to say, invisible, because of the +rays of the sun. It is better for us to see the destination we wish to +reach, than the point of departure.” + +“You are right, Barbicane,” replied Captain Nicholl; “and, besides, +when we have reached the moon, we shall have time during the long lunar +nights to consider at our leisure the globe on which our likenesses +swarm.” + +“Our likenesses!” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “They are no more our +likenesses than the Selenites are! We inhabit a new world, peopled by +ourselves—the projectile! I am Barbicane’s likeness, and Barbicane is +Nicholl’s. Beyond us, around us, human nature is at an end, and we are +the only population of this microcosm until we become pure Selenites.” + +“In about eighty-eight hours,” replied the captain. + +“Which means to say?” asked Michel Ardan. + +“That it is half-past eight,” replied Nicholl. + +“Very well,” retorted Michel; “then it is impossible for me to find +even the shadow of a reason why we should not go to breakfast.” + +Indeed the inhabitants of the new star could not live without eating, +and their stomachs were suffering from the imperious laws of hunger. +Michel Ardan, as a Frenchman, was declared chief cook, an important +function, which raised no rival. The gas gave sufficient heat for the +culinary apparatus, and the provision box furnished the elements of +this first feast. + +The breakfast began with three bowls of excellent soup, thanks to the +liquefaction in hot water of those precious cakes of Liebig, prepared +from the best parts of the ruminants of the Pampas. To the soup +succeeded some beefsteaks, compressed by an hydraulic press, as tender +and succulent as if brought straight from the kitchen of an English +eating-house. Michel, who was imaginative, maintained that they were +even “red.” + +Preserved vegetables (“fresher than nature,” said the amiable Michel) +succeeded the dish of meat; and was followed by some cups of tea with +bread and butter, after the American fashion. + +The beverage was declared exquisite, and was due to the infusion of the +choicest leaves, of which the emperor of Russia had given some chests +for the benefit of the travelers. + +And lastly, to crown the repast, Ardan had brought out a fine bottle of +Nuits, which was found “by chance” in the provision-box. The three +friends drank to the union of the earth and her satellite. + +And, as if he had not already done enough for the generous wine which +he had distilled on the slopes of Burgundy, the sun chose to be part of +the party. At this moment the projectile emerged from the conical +shadow cast by the terrestrial globe, and the rays of the radiant orb +struck the lower disc of the projectile direct occasioned by the angle +which the moon’s orbit makes with that of the earth. + +“The sun!” exclaimed Michel Ardan. + +“No doubt,” replied Barbicane; “I expected it.” + +“But,” said Michel, “the conical shadow which the earth leaves in space +extends beyond the moon?” + +“Far beyond it, if the atmospheric refraction is not taken into +consideration,” said Barbicane. “But when the moon is enveloped in this +shadow, it is because the centers of the three stars, the sun, the +earth, and the moon, are all in one and the same straight line. Then +the _nodes_ coincide with the _phases_ of the moon, and there is an +eclipse. If we had started when there was an eclipse of the moon, all +our passage would have been in the shadow, which would have been a +pity.” + +“Why?” + +“Because, though we are floating in space, our projectile, bathed in +the solar rays, will receive light and heat. It economizes the gas, +which is in every respect a good economy.” + +Indeed, under these rays which no atmosphere can temper, either in +temperature or brilliancy, the projectile grew warm and bright, as if +it had passed suddenly from winter to summer. The moon above, the sun +beneath, were inundating it with their fire. + +“It is pleasant here,” said Nicholl. + +“I should think so,” said Michel Ardan. “With a little earth spread on +our aluminum planet we should have green peas in twenty-four hours. I +have but one fear, which is that the walls of the projectile might +melt.” + +“Calm yourself, my worthy friend,” replied Barbicane; “the projectile +withstood a very much higher temperature than this as it slid through +the strata of the atmosphere. I should not be surprised if it did not +look like a meteor on fire to the eyes of the spectators in Florida.” + +“But then J. T. Maston will think we are roasted!” + +“What astonishes me,” said Barbicane, “is that we have not been. That +was a danger we had not provided for.” + +“I feared it,” said Nicholl simply. + +“And you never mentioned it, my sublime captain,” exclaimed Michel +Ardan, clasping his friend’s hand. + +Barbicane now began to settle himself in the projectile as if he was +never to leave it. One must remember that this aerial car had a base +with a _superficies_ of fifty-four square feet. Its height to the roof +was twelve feet. Carefully laid out in the inside, and little +encumbered by instruments and traveling utensils, which each had their +particular place, it left the three travelers a certain freedom of +movement. The thick window inserted in the bottom could bear any amount +of weight, and Barbicane and his companions walked upon it as if it +were solid plank; but the sun striking it directly with its rays lit +the interior of the projectile from beneath, thus producing singular +effects of light. + +They began by investigating the state of their store of water and +provisions, neither of which had suffered, thanks to the care taken to +deaden the shock. Their provisions were abundant, and plentiful enough +to last the three travelers for more than a year. Barbicane wished to +be cautious, in case the projectile should land on a part of the moon +which was utterly barren. As to water and the reserve of brandy, which +consisted of fifty gallons, there was only enough for two months; but +according to the last observations of astronomers, the moon had a low, +dense, and thick atmosphere, at least in the deep valleys, and there +springs and streams could not fail. Thus, during their passage, and for +the first year of their settlement on the lunar continent, these +adventurous explorers would suffer neither hunger nor thirst. + +Now about the air in the projectile. There, too, they were secure. +Reiset and Regnaut’s apparatus, intended for the production of oxygen, +was supplied with chlorate of potassium for two months. They +necessarily consumed a certain quantity of gas, for they were obliged +to keep the producing substance at a temperature of above 400°. But +there again they were all safe. The apparatus only wanted a little +care. But it was not enough to renew the oxygen; they must absorb the +carbonic acid produced by expiration. During the last twelve hours the +atmosphere of the projectile had become charged with this deleterious +gas. Nicholl discovered the state of the air by observing Diana panting +painfully. The carbonic acid, by a phenomenon similar to that produced +in the famous Grotto del Cane, had collected at the bottom of the +projectile owing to its weight. Poor Diana, with her head low, would +suffer before her masters from the presence of this gas. But Captain +Nicholl hastened to remedy this state of things, by placing on the +floor several receivers containing caustic potash, which he shook about +for a time, and this substance, greedy of carbonic acid, soon +completely absorbed it, thus purifying the air. + +An inventory of instruments was then begun. The thermometers and +barometers had resisted, all but one minimum thermometer, the glass of +which was broken. An excellent aneroid was drawn from the wadded box +which contained it and hung on the wall. Of course it was only affected +by and marked the pressure of the air inside the projectile, but it +also showed the quantity of moisture which it contained. At that moment +its needle oscillated between 25.24 and 25.08. + +It was fine weather. + +Barbicane had also brought several compasses, which he found intact. +One must understand that under present conditions their needles were +acting _wildly_, that is without any _constant_ direction. Indeed, at +the distance they were from the earth, the magnetic pole could have no +perceptible action upon the apparatus; but the box placed on the lunar +disc might perhaps exhibit some strange phenomena. In any case it would +be interesting to see whether the earth’s satellite submitted like +herself to its magnetic influence. + +A hypsometer to measure the height of the lunar mountains, a sextant to +take the height of the sun, glasses which would be useful as they +neared the moon, all these instruments were carefully looked over, and +pronounced good in spite of the violent shock. + +As to the pickaxes and different tools which were Nicholl’s especial +choice; as to the sacks of different kinds of grain and shrubs which +Michel Ardan hoped to transplant into Selenite ground, they were stowed +away in the upper part of the projectile. There was a sort of granary +there, loaded with things which the extravagant Frenchman had heaped +up. What they were no one knew, and the good-tempered fellow did not +explain. Now and then he climbed up by cramp-irons riveted to the +walls, but kept the inspection to himself. He arranged and rearranged, +he plunged his hand rapidly into certain mysterious boxes, singing in +one of the falsest of voices an old French refrain to enliven the +situation. + +Barbicane observed with some interest that his guns and other arms had +not been damaged. These were important, because, heavily loaded, they +were to help lessen the fall of the projectile, when drawn by the lunar +attraction (after having passed the point of neutral attraction) on to +the moon’s surface; a fall which ought to be six times less rapid than +it would have been on the earth’s surface, thanks to the difference of +bulk. The inspection ended with general satisfaction, when each +returned to watch space through the side windows and the lower glass +coverlid. + +There was the same view. The whole extent of the celestial sphere +swarmed with stars and constellations of wonderful purity, enough to +drive an astronomer out of his mind! On one side the sun, like the +mouth of a lighted oven, a dazzling disc without a halo, standing out +on the dark background of the sky! On the other, the moon returning its +fire by reflection, and apparently motionless in the midst of the +starry world. Then, a large spot seemingly nailed to the firmament, +bordered by a silvery cord; it was the earth! Here and there nebulous +masses like large flakes of starry snow; and from the zenith to the +nadir, an immense ring formed by an impalpable dust of stars, the +“Milky Way,” in the midst of which the sun ranks only as a star of the +fourth magnitude. The observers could not take their eyes from this +novel spectacle, of which no description could give an adequate idea. +What reflections it suggested! What emotions hitherto unknown awoke in +their souls! Barbicane wished to begin the relation of his journey +while under its first impressions, and hour after hour took notes of +all facts happening in the beginning of the enterprise. He wrote +quietly, with his large square writing, in a business-like style. + +During this time Nicholl, the calculator, looked over the minutes of +their passage, and worked out figures with unparalleled dexterity. +Michel Ardan chatted first with Barbicane, who did not answer him, and +then with Nicholl, who did not hear him, with Diana, who understood +none of his theories, and lastly with himself, questioning and +answering, going and coming, busy with a thousand details; at one time +bent over the lower glass, at another roosting in the heights of the +projectile, and always singing. In this microcosm he represented French +loquacity and excitability, and we beg you to believe that they were +well represented. The day, or rather (for the expression is not +correct) the lapse of twelve hours, which forms a day upon the earth, +closed with a plentiful supper carefully prepared. No accident of any +nature had yet happened to shake the travelers’ confidence; so, full of +hope, already sure of success, they slept peacefully, while the +projectile under an uniformly decreasing speed was crossing the sky. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +A LITTLE ALGEBRA + + +The night passed without incident. The word “night,” however, is +scarcely applicable. + +The position of the projectile with regard to the sun did not change. +Astronomically, it was daylight on the lower part, and night on the +upper; so when during this narrative these words are used, they +represent the lapse of time between rising and setting of the sun upon +the earth. + +The travelers’ sleep was rendered more peaceful by the projectile’s +excessive speed, for it seemed absolutely motionless. Not a motion +betrayed its onward course through space. The rate of progress, however +rapid it might be, cannot produce any sensible effect on the human +frame when it takes place in a vacuum, or when the mass of air +circulates with the body which is carried with it. What inhabitant of +the earth perceives its speed, which, however, is at the rate of 68,000 +miles per hour? Motion under such conditions is “felt” no more than +repose; and when a body is in repose it will remain so as long as no +strange force displaces it; if moving, it will not stop unless an +obstacle comes in its way. This indifference to motion or repose is +called inertia. + +Barbicane and his companions might have believed themselves perfectly +stationary, being shut up in the projectile; indeed, the effect would +have been the same if they had been on the outside of it. Had it not +been for the moon, which was increasing above them, they might have +sworn that they were floating in complete stagnation. + +That morning, the 3rd of December, the travelers were awakened by a +joyous but unexpected noise; it was the crowing of a cock which sounded +through the car. Michel Ardan, who was the first on his feet, climbed +to the top of the projectile, and shutting a box, the lid of which was +partly open, said in a low voice, “Will you hold your tongue? That +creature will spoil my design!” + +But Nicholl and Barbicane were awake. + +“A cock!” said Nicholl. + +“Why no, my friends,” Michel answered quickly; “it was I who wished to +awake you by this rural sound.” So saying, he gave vent to a splendid +cock-a-doodledoo, which would have done honor to the proudest of +poultry-yards. + +The two Americans could not help laughing. + +“Fine talent that,” said Nicholl, looking suspiciously at his +companion. + +“Yes,” said Michel; “a joke in my country. It is very Gallic; they play +the cock so in the best society.” + +Then turning the conversation: + +“Barbicane, do you know what I have been thinking of all night?” + +“No,” answered the president. + +“Of our Cambridge friends. You have already remarked that I am an +ignoramus in mathematical subjects; and it is impossible for me to find +out how the savants of the observatory were able to calculate what +initiatory speed the projectile ought to have on leaving the Columbiad +in order to attain the moon.” + +“You mean to say,” replied Barbicane, “to attain that neutral point +where the terrestrial and lunar attractions are equal; for, starting +from that point, situated about nine-tenths of the distance traveled +over, the projectile would simply fall upon the moon, on account of its +weight.” + +“So be it,” said Michel; “but, once more; how could they calculate the +initiatory speed?” + +“Nothing can be easier,” replied Barbicane. + +“And you knew how to make that calculation?” asked Michel Ardan. + +“Perfectly. Nicholl and I would have made it, if the observatory had +not saved us the trouble.” + +“Very well, old Barbicane,” replied Michel; “they might have cut off my +head, beginning at my feet, before they could have made me solve that +problem.” + +“Because you do not know algebra,” answered Barbicane quietly. + +“Ah, there you are, you eaters of _x_1; you think you have said all +when you have said ‘Algebra.’” + +“Michel,” said Barbicane, “can you use a forge without a hammer, or a +plow without a plowshare?” + +“Hardly.” + +“Well, algebra is a tool, like the plow or the hammer, and a good tool +to those who know how to use it.” + +“Seriously?” + +“Quite seriously.” + +“And can you use that tool in my presence?” + +“If it will interest you.” + +“And show me how they calculated the initiatory speed of our car?” + +“Yes, my worthy friend; taking into consideration all the elements of +the problem, the distance from the center of the earth to the center of +the moon, of the radius of the earth, of its bulk, and of the bulk of +the moon, I can tell exactly what ought to be the initiatory speed of +the projectile, and that by a simple formula.” + +“Let us see.” + +“You shall see it; only I shall not give you the real course drawn by +the projectile between the moon and the earth in considering their +motion round the sun. No, I shall consider these two orbs as perfectly +motionless, which will answer all our purpose.” + +“And why?” + +“Because it will be trying to solve the problem called ‘the problem of +the three bodies,’ for which the integral calculus is not yet far +enough advanced.” + +“Then,” said Michel Ardan, in his sly tone, “mathematics have not said +their last word?” + +“Certainly not,” replied Barbicane. + +“Well, perhaps the Selenites have carried the integral calculus farther +than you have; and, by the bye, what is this ‘integral calculus?’” + +“It is a calculation the converse of the differential,” replied +Barbicane seriously. + +“Much obliged; it is all very clear, no doubt.” + +“And now,” continued Barbicane, “a slip of paper and a bit of pencil, +and before a half-hour is over I will have found the required formula.” + +Half an hour had not elapsed before Barbicane, raising his head, showed +Michel Ardan a page covered with algebraical signs, in which the +general formula for the solution was contained. + +“Well, and does Nicholl understand what that means?” + +“Of course, Michel,” replied the captain. “All these signs, which seem +cabalistic to you, form the plainest, the clearest, and the most +logical language to those who know how to read it.” + +“And you pretend, Nicholl,” asked Michel, “that by means of these +hieroglyphics, more incomprehensible than the Egyptian Ibis, you can +find what initiatory speed it was necessary to give the projectile?” + +“Incontestably,” replied Nicholl; “and even by this same formula I can +always tell you its speed at any point of its transit.” + +“On your word?” + +“On my word.” + +“Then you are as cunning as our president.” + +“No, Michel; the difficult part is what Barbicane has done; that is, to +get an equation which shall satisfy all the conditions of the problem. +The remainder is only a question of arithmetic, requiring merely the +knowledge of the four rules.” + +“That is something!” replied Michel Ardan, who for his life could not +do addition right, and who defined the rule as a Chinese puzzle, which +allowed one to obtain all sorts of totals. + +“The expression _v_ zero, which you see in that equation, is the speed +which the projectile will have on leaving the atmosphere.” + +“Just so,” said Nicholl; “it is from that point that we must calculate +the velocity, since we know already that the velocity at departure was +exactly one and a half times more than on leaving the atmosphere.” + +“I understand no more,” said Michel. + +“It is a very simple calculation,” said Barbicane. + +“Not as simple as I am,” retorted Michel. + +“That means, that when our projectile reached the limits of the +terrestrial atmosphere it had already lost one-third of its initiatory +speed.” + +“As much as that?” + +“Yes, my friend; merely by friction against the atmospheric strata. You +understand that the faster it goes the more resistance it meets with +from the air.” + +“That I admit,” answered Michel; “and I understand it, although your +x’s and zero’s, and algebraic formula, are rattling in my head like +nails in a bag.” + +“First effects of algebra,” replied Barbicane; “and now, to finish, we +are going to prove the given number of these different expressions, +that is, work out their value.” + +“Finish me!” replied Michel. + +Barbicane took the paper, and began to make his calculations with great +rapidity. Nicholl looked over and greedily read the work as it +proceeded. + +“That’s it! that’s it!” at last he cried. + +“Is it clear?” asked Barbicane. + +“It is written in letters of fire,” said Nicholl. + +“Wonderful fellows!” muttered Ardan. + +“Do you understand it at last?” asked Barbicane. + +“Do I understand it?” cried Ardan; “my head is splitting with it.” + +“And now,” said Nicholl, “to find out the speed of the projectile when +it leaves the atmosphere, we have only to calculate that.” + +The captain, as a practical man equal to all difficulties, began to +write with frightful rapidity. Divisions and multiplications grew under +his fingers; the figures were like hail on the white page. Barbicane +watched him, while Michel Ardan nursed a growing headache with both +hands. + +“Very well?” asked Barbicane, after some minutes’ silence. + +“Well!” replied Nicholl; every calculation made, _v_ zero, that is to +say, the speed necessary for the projectile on leaving the atmosphere, +to enable it to reach the equal point of attraction, ought to be—” + +“Yes?” said Barbicane. + +“Twelve thousand yards.” + +“What!” exclaimed Barbicane, starting; “you say—” + +“Twelve thousand yards.” + +“The devil!” cried the president, making a gesture of despair. + +“What is the matter?” asked Michel Ardan, much surprised. + +“What is the matter! why, if at this moment our speed had already +diminished one-third by friction, the initiatory speed ought to have +been—” + +“Seventeen thousand yards.” + +“And the Cambridge Observatory declared that twelve thousand yards was +enough at starting; and our projectile, which only started with that +speed—” + +“Well?” asked Nicholl. + +“Well, it will not be enough.” + +“Good.” + +“We shall not be able to reach the neutral point.” + +“The deuce!” + +“We shall not even get halfway.” + +“In the name of the projectile!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, jumping as if +it was already on the point of striking the terrestrial globe. + +“And we shall fall back upon the earth!” + + + + +CHAPTER V. +THE COLD OF SPACE + + +This revelation came like a thunderbolt. Who could have expected such +an error in calculation? Barbicane would not believe it. Nicholl +revised his figures: they were exact. As to the formula which had +determined them, they could not suspect its truth; it was evident that +an initiatory velocity of seventeen thousand yards in the first second +was necessary to enable them to reach the neutral point. + +The three friends looked at each other silently. There was no thought +of breakfast. Barbicane, with clenched teeth, knitted brows, and hands +clasped convulsively, was watching through the window. Nicholl had +crossed his arms, and was examining his calculations. Michel Ardan was +muttering: + +“That is just like these scientific men: they never do anything else. I +would give twenty pistoles if we could fall upon the Cambridge +Observatory and crush it, together with the whole lot of dabblers in +figures which it contains.” + +Suddenly a thought struck the captain, which he at once communicated to +Barbicane. + +“Ah!” said he; “it is seven o’clock in the morning; we have already +been gone thirty-two hours; more than half our passage is over, and we +are not falling that I am aware of.” + +Barbicane did not answer, but after a rapid glance at the captain, took +a pair of compasses wherewith to measure the angular distance of the +terrestrial globe; then from the lower window he took an exact +observation, and noticed that the projectile was apparently stationary. +Then rising and wiping his forehead, on which large drops of +perspiration were standing, he put some figures on paper. Nicholl +understood that the president was deducting from the terrestrial +diameter the projectile’s distance from the earth. He watched him +anxiously. + +“No,” exclaimed Barbicane, after some moments, “no, we are not falling! +no, we are already more than 50,000 leagues from the earth. We have +passed the point at which the projectile would have stopped if its +speed had only been 12,000 yards at starting. We are still going up.” + +“That is evident,” replied Nicholl; “and we must conclude that our +initial speed, under the power of the 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton, +must have exceeded the required 12,000 yards. Now I can understand how, +after thirteen minutes only, we met the second satellite, which +gravitates round the earth at more than 2,000 leagues’ distance.” + +“And this explanation is the more probable,” added Barbicane, “Because, +in throwing off the water enclosed between its partition-breaks, the +projectile found itself lightened of a considerable weight.” + +“Just so,” said Nicholl. + +“Ah, my brave Nicholl, we are saved!” + +“Very well then,” said Michel Ardan quietly; “as we are safe, let us +have breakfast.” + +Nicholl was not mistaken. The initial speed had been, very fortunately, +much above that estimated by the Cambridge Observatory; but the +Cambridge Observatory had nevertheless made a mistake. + +The travelers, recovered from this false alarm, breakfasted merrily. If +they ate a good deal, they talked more. Their confidence was greater +after than before “the incident of the algebra.” + +“Why should we not succeed?” said Michel Ardan; “why should we not +arrive safely? We are launched; we have no obstacle before us, no +stones in the way; the road is open, more so than that of a ship +battling with the sea; more open than that of a balloon battling with +the wind; and if a ship can reach its destination, a balloon go where +it pleases, why cannot our projectile attain its end and aim?” + +“It _will_ attain it,” said Barbicane. + +“If only to do honor to the Americans,” added Michel Ardan, “the only +people who could bring such an enterprise to a happy termination, and +the only one which could produce a President Barbicane. Ah, now we are +no longer uneasy, I begin to think, What will become of us? We shall +get right royally weary.” + +Barbicane and Nicholl made a gesture of denial. + +“But I have provided for the contingency, my friends,” replied Michel; +“you have only to speak, and I have chess, draughts, cards, and +dominoes at your disposal; nothing is wanting but a billiard-table.” + +“What!” exclaimed Barbicane; “you brought away such trifles?” + +“Certainly,” replied Michel, “and not only to distract ourselves, but +also with the laudable intention of endowing the Selenite smoking +divans with them.” + +“My friend,” said Barbicane, “if the moon is inhabited, its inhabitants +must have appeared some thousands of years before those of the earth, +for we cannot doubt that their star is much older than ours. If then +these Selenites have existed their hundreds of thousands of years, and +if their brain is of the same organization of the human brain, they +have already invented all that we have invented, and even what we may +invent in future ages. They have nothing to learn from _us_, and we +have everything to learn from _them_.” + +“What!” said Michel; “you believe that they have artists like Phidias, +Michael Angelo, or Raphael?” + +“Yes.” + +“Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, and Hugo?” + +“I am sure of it.” + +“Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant?” + +“I have no doubt of it.” + +“Scientific men like Archimedes, Euclid, Pascal, Newton?” + +“I could swear it.” + +“Comic writers like Arnal, and photographers like—like Nadar?” + +“Certain.” + +“Then, friend Barbicane, if they are as strong as we are, and even +stronger—these Selenites—why have they not tried to communicate with +the earth? why have they not launched a lunar projectile to our +terrestrial regions?” + +“Who told you that they have never done so?” said Barbicane seriously. + +“Indeed,” added Nicholl, “it would be easier for them than for us, for +two reasons; first, because the attraction on the moon’s surface is six +times less than on that of the earth, which would allow a projectile to +rise more easily; secondly, because it would be enough to send such a +projectile only at 8,000 leagues instead of 80,000, which would require +the force of projection to be ten times less strong.” + +“Then,” continued Michel, “I repeat it, why have they not done it?” + +“And I repeat,” said Barbicane; “who told you that they have not done +it?” + +“When?” + +“Thousands of years before man appeared on earth.” + +“And the projectile—where is the projectile? I demand to see the +projectile.” + +“My friend,” replied Barbicane, “the sea covers five-sixths of our +globe. From that we may draw five good reasons for supposing that the +lunar projectile, if ever launched, is now at the bottom of the +Atlantic or the Pacific, unless it sped into some crevasse at that +period when the crust of the earth was not yet hardened.” + +“Old Barbicane,” said Michel, “you have an answer for everything, and I +bow before your wisdom. But there is one hypothesis that would suit me +better than all the others, which is, the Selenites, being older than +we, are wiser, and have not invented gunpowder.” + +At this moment Diana joined in the conversation by a sonorous barking. +She was asking for her breakfast. + +“Ah!” said Michel Ardan, “in our discussion we have forgotten Diana and +Satellite.” + +Immediately a good-sized pie was given to the dog, which devoured it +hungrily. + +“Do you see, Barbicane,” said Michel, “we should have made a second +Noah’s ark of this projectile, and borne with us to the moon a couple +of every kind of domestic animal.” + +“I dare say; but room would have failed us.” + +“Oh!” said Michel, “we might have squeezed a little.” + +“The fact is,” replied Nicholl, “that cows, bulls, and horses, and all +ruminants, would have been very useful on the lunar continent, but +unfortunately the car could neither have been made a stable nor a +shed.” + +“Well, we might have at least brought a donkey, only a little donkey; +that courageous beast which old Silenus loved to mount. I love those +old donkeys; they are the least favored animals in creation; they are +not only beaten while alive, but even after they are dead.” + +“How do you make that out?” asked Barbicane. “Why,” said Michel, “they +make their skins into drums.” + +Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at this ridiculous +remark. But a cry from their merry companion stopped them. The latter +was leaning over the spot where Satellite lay. He rose, saying: + +“My good Satellite is no longer ill.” + +“Ah!” said Nicholl. + +“No,” answered Michel, “he is dead! There,” added he, in a piteous +tone, “that is embarrassing. I much fear, my poor Diana, that you will +leave no progeny in the lunar regions!” + +Indeed the unfortunate Satellite had not survived its wound. It was +quite dead. Michel Ardan looked at his friends with a rueful +countenance. + +“One question presents itself,” said Barbicane. “We cannot keep the +dead body of this dog with us for the next forty-eight hours.” + +“No! certainly not,” replied Nicholl; “but our scuttles are fixed on +hinges; they can be let down. We will open one, and throw the body out +into space.” + +The president thought for some moments, and then said: + +“Yes, we must do so, but at the same time taking very great +precautions.” + +“Why?” asked Michel. + +“For two reasons which you will understand,” answered Barbicane. “The +first relates to the air shut up in the projectile, and of which we +must lose as little as possible.” + +“But we manufacture the air?” + +“Only in part. We make only the oxygen, my worthy Michel; and with +regard to that, we must watch that the apparatus does not furnish the +oxygen in too great a quantity; for an excess would bring us very +serious physiological troubles. But if we make the oxygen, we do not +make the azote, that medium which the lungs do not absorb, and which +ought to remain intact; and that azote will escape rapidly through the +open scuttles.” + +“Oh! the time for throwing out poor Satellite?” said Michel. + +“Agreed; but we must act quickly.” + +“And the second reason?” asked Michel. + +“The second reason is that we must not let the outer cold, which is +excessive, penetrate the projectile or we shall be frozen to death.” + +“But the sun?” + +“The sun warms our projectile, which absorbs its rays; but it does not +warm the vacuum in which we are floating at this moment. Where there is +no air, there is no more heat than diffused light; and the same with +darkness; it is cold where the sun’s rays do not strike direct. This +temperature is only the temperature produced by the radiation of the +stars; that is to say, what the terrestrial globe would undergo if the +sun disappeared one day.” + +“Which is not to be feared,” replied Nicholl. + +“Who knows?” said Michel Ardan. “But, in admitting that the sun does +not go out, might it not happen that the earth might move away from +it?” + +“There!” said Barbicane, “there is Michel with his ideas.” + +“And,” continued Michel, “do we not know that in 1861 the earth passed +through the tail of a comet? Or let us suppose a comet whose power of +attraction is greater than that of the sun. The terrestrial orbit will +bend toward the wandering star, and the earth, becoming its satellite, +will be drawn such a distance that the rays of the sun will have no +action on its surface.” + +“That _might_ happen, indeed,” replied Barbicane, “but the consequences +of such a displacement need not be so formidable as you suppose.” + +“And why not?” + +“Because the heat and cold would be equalized on our globe. It has been +calculated that, had our earth been carried along in its course by the +comet of 1861, at its perihelion, that is, its nearest approach to the +sun, it would have undergone a heat 28,000 times greater than that of +summer. But this heat, which is sufficient to evaporate the waters, +would have formed a thick ring of cloud, which would have modified that +excessive temperature; hence the compensation between the cold of the +aphelion and the heat of the perihelion.” + +“At how many degrees,” asked Nicholl, “is the temperature of the +planetary spaces estimated?” + +“Formerly,” replied Barbicane, “it was greatly exagerated; but now, +after the calculations of Fourier, of the French Academy of Science, it +is not supposed to exceed 60° Centigrade below zero.” + +“Pooh!” said Michel, “that’s nothing!” + +“It is very much,” replied Barbicane; “the temperature which was +observed in the polar regions, at Melville Island and Fort Reliance, +that is 76° Fahrenheit below zero.” + +“If I mistake not,” said Nicholl, “M. Pouillet, another savant, +estimates the temperature of space at 250° Fahrenheit below zero. We +shall, however, be able to verify these calculations for ourselves.” + +“Not at present; because the solar rays, beating directly upon our +thermometer, would give, on the contrary, a very high temperature. But, +when we arrive in the moon, during its fifteen days of night at either +face, we shall have leisure to make the experiment, for our satellite +lies in a vacuum.” + +“What do you mean by a vacuum?” asked Michel. “Is it perfectly such?” + +“It is absolutely void of air.” + +“And is the air replaced by nothing whatever?” + +“By the ether only,” replied Barbicane. + +“And pray what is the ether?” + +“The ether, my friend, is an agglomeration of imponderable atoms, +which, relatively to their dimensions, are as far removed from each +other as the celestial bodies are in space. It is these atoms which, by +their vibratory motion, produce both light and heat in the universe.” + +They now proceeded to the burial of Satellite. They had merely to drop +him into space, in the same way that sailors drop a body into the sea; +but, as President Barbicane suggested, they must act quickly, so as to +lose as little as possible of that air whose elasticity would rapidly +have spread it into space. The bolts of the right scuttle, the opening +of which measured about twelve inches across, were carefully drawn, +while Michel, quite grieved, prepared to launch his dog into space. The +glass, raised by a powerful lever, which enabled it to overcome the +pressure of the inside air on the walls of the projectile, turned +rapidly on its hinges, and Satellite was thrown out. Scarcely a +particle of air could have escaped, and the operation was so successful +that later on Barbicane did not fear to dispose of the rubbish which +encumbered the car. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +QUESTION AND ANSWER + + +On the 4th of December, when the travelers awoke after fifty-four +hours’ journey, the chronometer marked five o’clock of the terrestrial +morning. In time it was just over five hours and forty minutes, half of +that assigned to their sojourn in the projectile; but they had already +accomplished nearly seven-tenths of the way. This peculiarity was due +to their regularly decreasing speed. + +Now when they observed the earth through the lower window, it looked +like nothing more than a dark spot, drowned in the solar rays. No more +crescent, no more cloudy light! The next day, at midnight, the earth +would be _new_, at the very moment when the moon would be full. Above, +the orb of night was nearing the line followed by the projectile, so as +to meet it at the given hour. All around the black vault was studded +with brilliant points, which seemed to move slowly; but, at the great +distance they were from them, their relative size did not seem to +change. The sun and stars appeared exactly as they do to us upon earth. +As to the moon, she was considerably larger; but the travelers’ +glasses, not very powerful, did not allow them as yet to make any +useful observations upon her surface, or reconnoiter her +topographically or geologically. + +Thus the time passed in never-ending conversations all about the moon. +Each one brought forward his own contingent of particular facts; +Barbicane and Nicholl always serious, Michel Ardan always enthusiastic. +The projectile, its situation, its direction, incidents which might +happen, the precautions necessitated by their fall on to the moon, were +inexhaustible matters of conjecture. + +As they were breakfasting, a question of Michel’s, relating to the +projectile, provoked rather a curious answer from Barbicane, which is +worth repeating. Michel, supposing it to be roughly stopped, while +still under its formidable initial speed, wished to know what the +consequences of the stoppage would have been. + +“But,” said Barbicane, “I do not see how it could have been stopped.” + +“But let us suppose so,” said Michel. + +“It is an impossible supposition,” said the practical Barbicane; +“unless that impulsive force had failed; but even then its speed would +diminish by degrees, and it would not have stopped suddenly.” + +“Admit that it had struck a body in space.” + +“What body?” + +“Why that enormous meteor which we met.” + +“Then,” said Nicholl, “the projectile would have been broken into a +thousand pieces, and we with it.” + +“More than that,” replied Barbicane; “we should have been burned to +death.” + +“Burned?” exclaimed Michel, “by Jove! I am sorry it did not happen, +‘just to see.’” + +“And you would have seen,” replied Barbicane. “It is known now that +heat is only a modification of motion. When water is warmed—that is to +say, when heat is added to it—its particles are set in motion.” + +“Well,” said Michel, “that is an ingenious theory!” + +“And a true one, my worthy friend; for it explains every phenomenon of +caloric. Heat is but the motion of atoms, a simple oscillation of the +particles of a body. When they apply the brake to a train, the train +comes to a stop; but what becomes of the motion which it had previously +possessed? It is transformed into heat, and the brake becomes hot. Why +do they grease the axles of the wheels? To prevent their heating, +because this heat would be generated by the motion which is thus lost +by transformation.” + +“Yes, I understand,” replied Michel, “perfectly. For example, when I +have run a long time, when I am swimming, when I am perspiring in large +drops, why am I obliged to stop? Simply because my motion is changed +into heat.” + +Barbicane could not help smiling at Michel’s reply; then, returning to +his theory, said: + +“Thus, in case of a shock, it would have been with our projectile as +with a ball which falls in a burning state after having struck the +metal plate; it is its motion which is turned into heat. Consequently I +affirm that, if our projectile had struck the meteor, its speed thus +suddenly checked would have raised a heat great enough to turn it into +vapor instantaneously.” + +“Then,” asked Nicholl, “what would happen if the earth’s motion were to +stop suddenly?” + +“Her temperature would be raised to such a pitch,” said Barbicane, +“that she would be at once reduced to vapor.” + +“Well,” said Michel, “that is a way of ending the earth which will +greatly simplify things.” + +“And if the earth fell upon the sun?” asked Nicholl. + +“According to calculation,” replied Barbicane, “the fall would develop +a heat equal to that produced by 16,000 globes of coal, each equal in +bulk to our terrestrial globe.” + +“Good additional heat for the sun,” replied Michel Ardan, “of which the +inhabitants of Uranus or Neptune would doubtless not complain; they +must be perished with cold on their planets.” + +“Thus, my friends,” said Barbicane, “all motion suddenly stopped +produces heat. And this theory allows us to infer that the heat of the +solar disc is fed by a hail of meteors falling incessantly on its +surface. They have even calculated—” + +“Oh, dear!” murmured Michel, “the figures are coming.” + +“They have even calculated,” continued the imperturbable Barbicane, +“that the shock of each meteor on the sun ought to produce a heat equal +to that of 4,000 masses of coal of an equal bulk.” + +“And what is the solar heat?” asked Michel. + +“It is equal to that produced by the combustion of a stratum of coal +surrounding the sun to a depth of forty-seven miles.” + +“And that heat—” + +“Would be able to boil two billions nine hundred millions of cubic +myriameters[2] of water.” + + [2] The myriameter is equal to rather more than 10,936 cubic yards + English. + + +“And it does not roast us!” exclaimed Michel. + +“No,” replied Barbicane, “because the terrestrial atmosphere absorbs +four-tenths of the solar heat; besides, the quantity of heat +intercepted by the earth is but a billionth part of the entire +radiation.” + +“I see that all is for the best,” said Michel, “and that this +atmosphere is a useful invention; for it not only allows us to breathe, +but it prevents us from roasting.” + +“Yes!” said Nicholl, “unfortunately, it will not be the same in the +moon.” + +“Bah!” said Michel, always hopeful. “If there are inhabitants, they +must breathe. If there are no longer any, they must have left enough +oxygen for three people, if only at the bottom of ravines, where its +own weight will cause it to accumulate, and we will not climb the +mountains; that is all.” And Michel, rising, went to look at the lunar +disc, which shone with intolerable brilliancy. + +“By Jove!” said he, “it must be hot up there!” + +“Without considering,” replied Nicholl, “that the day lasts 360 hours!” + +“And to compensate that,” said Barbicane, “the nights have the same +length; and as heat is restored by radiation, their temperature can +only be that of the planetary space.” + +“A pretty country, that!” exclaimed Michel. “Never mind! I wish I was +there! Ah! my dear comrades, it will be rather curious to have the +earth for our moon, to see it rise on the horizon, to recognize the +shape of its continents, and to say to oneself, ‘There is America, +there is Europe;’ then to follow it when it is about to lose itself in +the sun’s rays! By the bye, Barbicane, have the Selenites eclipses?” + +“Yes, eclipses of the sun,” replied Barbicane, “when the centers of the +three orbs are on a line, the earth being in the middle. But they are +only partial, during which the earth, cast like a screen upon the solar +disc, allows the greater portion to be seen.” + +“And why,” asked Nicholl, “is there no total eclipse? Does not the cone +of the shadow cast by the earth extend beyond the moon?” + +“Yes, if we do not take into consideration the refraction produced by +the terrestrial atmosphere. No, if we take that refraction into +consideration. Thus let be the horizontal parallel, +and _p_ the apparent semidiameter—” + +“Oh!” said Michel. “Do speak plainly, you man of algebra!” + +“Very well, replied Barbicane; “in popular language the mean distance +from the moon to the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of +the cone of the shadow, on account of refraction, is reduced to less +than forty-two radii. The result is that when there are eclipses, the +moon finds itself beyond the cone of pure shadow, and that the sun +sends her its rays, not only from its edges, but also from its center.” + +“Then,” said Michel, in a merry tone, “why are there eclipses, when +there ought not to be any?” + +“Simply because the solar rays are weakened by this refraction, and the +atmosphere through which they pass extinguished the greater part of +them!” + +“That reason satisfies me,” replied Michel. “Besides we shall see when +we get there. Now, tell me, Barbicane, do you believe that the moon is +an old comet?” + +“There’s an idea!” + +“Yes,” replied Michel, with an amiable swagger, “I have a few ideas of +that sort.” + +“But that idea does not spring from Michel,” answered Nicholl. + +“Well, then, I am a plagiarist.” + +“No doubt about it. According to the ancients, the Arcadians pretend +that their ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her +satellite. Starting from this fact, some scientific men have seen in +the moon a comet whose orbit will one day bring it so near to the earth +that it will be held there by its attraction.” + +“Is there any truth in this hypothesis?” asked Michel. + +“None whatever,” said Barbicane, “and the proof is, that the moon has +preserved no trace of the gaseous envelope which always accompanies +comets.” + +“But,” continued Nicholl, “Before becoming the earth’s satellite, could +not the moon, when in her perihelion, pass so near the sun as by +evaporation to get rid of all those gaseous substances?” + +“It is possible, friend Nicholl, but not probable.” + +“Why not?” + +“Because—Faith I do not know.” + +“Ah!” exclaimed Michel, “what hundred of volumes we might make of all +that we do not know!” + +“Ah! indeed. What time is it?” asked Barbicane. + +“Three o’clock,” answered Nicholl. + +“How time goes,” said Michel, “in the conversation of scientific men +such as we are! Certainly, I feel I know too much! I feel that I am +becoming a well!” + +Saying which, Michel hoisted himself to the roof of the projectile, “to +observe the moon better,” he pretended. During this time his companions +were watching through the lower glass. Nothing new to note! + +When Michel Ardan came down, he went to the side scuttle; and suddenly +they heard an exclamation of surprise! + +“What is it?” asked Barbicane. + +The president approached the window, and saw a sort of flattened sack +floating some yards from the projectile. This object seemed as +motionless as the projectile, and was consequently animated with the +same ascending movement. + +“What is that machine?” continued Michel Ardan. “Is it one of the +bodies which our projectile keeps within its attraction, and which will +accompany it to the moon?” + +“What astonishes me,” said Nicholl, “is that the specific weight of the +body, which is certainly less than that of the projectile, allows it to +keep so perfectly on a level with it.” + +“Nicholl,” replied Barbicane, after a moment’s reflection, “I do not +know what the object it, but I do know why it maintains our level.” + +“And why?” + +“Because we are floating in space, my dear captain, and in space bodies +fall or move (which is the same thing) with equal speed whatever be +their weight or form; it is the air, which by its resistance creates +these differences in weight. When you create a vacuum in a tube, the +objects you send through it, grains of dust or grains of lead, fall +with the same rapidity. Here in space is the same cause and the same +effect.” + +“Just so,” said Nicholl, “and everything we throw out of the projectile +will accompany it until it reaches the moon.” + +“Ah! fools that we are!” exclaimed Michel. + +“Why that expletive?” asked Barbicane. + +“Because we might have filled the projectile with useful objects, +books, instruments, tools, etc. We could have thrown them all out, and +all would have followed in our train. But happy thought! Why cannot we +walk outside like the meteor? Why cannot we launch into space through +the scuttle? What enjoyment it would be to feel oneself thus suspended +in ether, more favored than the birds who must use their wings to keep +themselves up!” + +“Granted,” said Barbicane, “but how to breathe?” + +“Hang the air, to fail so inopportunely!” + +“But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being less than that of +the projectile, you would soon be left behind.” + +“Then we must remain in our car?” + +“We must!” + +“Ah!” exclaimed Michel, in a load voice. + +“What is the matter,” asked Nicholl. + +“I know, I guess, what this pretended meteor is! It is no asteroid +which is accompanying us! It is not a piece of a planet.” + +“What is it then?” asked Barbicane. + +“It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana’s husband!” + +Indeed, this deformed, unrecognizable object, reduced to nothing, was +the body of Satellite, flattened like a bagpipe without wind, and ever +mounting, mounting! + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION + + +Thus a phenomenon, curious but explicable, was happening under these +strange conditions. + +Every object thrown from the projectile would follow the same course +and never stop until it did. There was a subject for conversation which +the whole evening could not exhaust. + +Besides, the excitement of the three travelers increased as they drew +near the end of their journey. They expected unforseen incidents, and +new phenomena; and nothing would have astonished them in the frame of +mind they then were in. Their overexcited imagination went faster than +the projectile, whose speed was evidently diminishing, though +insensibly to themselves. But the moon grew larger to their eyes, and +they fancied if they stretched out their hands they could seize it. + +The next day, the 5th of November, at five in the morning, all three +were on foot. That day was to be the last of their journey, if all +calculations were true. That very night, at twelve o’clock, in eighteen +hours, exactly at the full moon, they would reach its brilliant disc. +The next midnight would see that journey ended, the most extraordinary +of ancient or modern times. Thus from the first of the morning, through +the scuttles silvered by its rays, they saluted the orb of night with a +confident and joyous hurrah. + +The moon was advancing majestically along the starry firmament. A few +more degrees, and she would reach the exact point where her meeting +with the projectile was to take place. + +According to his own observations, Barbicane reckoned that they would +land on her northern hemisphere, where stretch immense plains, and +where mountains are rare. A favorable circumstance if, as they thought, +the lunar atmosphere was stored only in its depths. + +“Besides,” observed Michel Ardan, “a plain is easier to disembark upon +than a mountain. A Selenite, deposited in Europe on the summit of Mont +Blanc, or in Asia on the top of the Himalayas, would not be quite in +the right place.” + +“And,” added Captain Nicholl, “on a flat ground, the projectile will +remain motionless when it has once touched; whereas on a declivity it +would roll like an avalanche, and not being squirrels we should not +come out safe and sound. So it is all for the best.” + +Indeed, the success of the audacious attempt no longer appeared +doubtful. But Barbicane was preoccupied with one thought; but not +wishing to make his companions uneasy, he kept silence on this subject. + +The direction the projectile was taking toward the moon’s northern +hemisphere, showed that her course had been slightly altered. The +discharge, mathematically calculated, would carry the projectile to the +very center of the lunar disc. If it did not land there, there must +have been some deviation. What had caused it? Barbicane could neither +imagine nor determine the importance of the deviation, for there were +no points to go by. + +He hoped, however, that it would have no other result than that of +bringing them nearer the upper border of the moon, a region more +suitable for landing. + +Without imparting his uneasiness to his companions, Barbicane contented +himself with constantly observing the moon, in order to see whether the +course of the projectile would not be altered; for the situation would +have been terrible if it failed in its aim, and being carried beyond +the disc should be launched into interplanetary space. At that moment, +the moon, instead of appearing flat like a disc, showed its convexity. +If the sun’s rays had struck it obliquely, the shadow thrown would have +brought out the high mountains, which would have been clearly detached. +The eye might have gazed into the crater’s gaping abysses, and followed +the capricious fissures which wound through the immense plains. But all +relief was as yet leveled in intense brilliancy. They could scarcely +distinguish those large spots which give the moon the appearance of a +human face. + +“Face, indeed!” said Michel Ardan; “but I am sorry for the amiable +sister of Apollo. A very pitted face!” + +But the travelers, now so near the end, were incessantly observing this +new world. They imagined themselves walking through its unknown +countries, climbing its highest peaks, descending into its lowest +depths. Here and there they fancied they saw vast seas, scarcely kept +together under so rarefied an atmosphere, and water-courses emptying +the mountain tributaries. Leaning over the abyss, they hoped to catch +some sounds from that orb forever mute in the solitude of space. That +last day left them. + +They took down the most trifling details. A vague uneasiness took +possession of them as they neared the end. This uneasiness would have +been doubled had they felt how their speed had decreased. It would have +seemed to them quite insufficient to carry them to the end. It was +because the projectile then “weighed” almost nothing. Its weight was +ever decreasing, and would be entirely annihilated on that line where +the lunar and terrestrial attractions would neutralize each other. + +But in spite of his preoccupation, Michel Ardan did not forget to +prepare the morning repast with his accustomed punctuality. They ate +with a good appetite. Nothing was so excellent as the soup liquefied by +the heat of the gas; nothing better than the preserved meat. Some +glasses of good French wine crowned the repast, causing Michel Ardan to +remark that the lunar vines, warmed by that ardent sun, ought to +distill even more generous wines; that is, if they existed. In any +case, the far-seeing Frenchman had taken care not to forget in his +collection some precious cuttings of the Medoc and Cote d’Or, upon +which he founded his hopes. + +Reiset and Regnaut’s apparatus worked with great regularity. Not an +atom of carbonic acid resisted the potash; and as to the oxygen, +Captain Nicholl said “it was of the first quality.” The little watery +vapor enclosed in the projectile mixing with the air tempered the +dryness; and many apartments in London, Paris, or New York, and many +theaters, were certainly not in such a healthy condition. + +But that it might act with regularity, the apparatus must be kept in +perfect order; so each morning Michel visited the escape regulators, +tried the taps, and regulated the heat of the gas by the pyrometer. +Everything had gone well up to that time, and the travelers, imitating +the worthy Joseph T. Maston, began to acquire a degree of embonpoint +which would have rendered them unrecognizable if their imprisonment had +been prolonged to some months. In a word, they behaved like chickens in +a coop; they were getting fat. + +In looking through the scuttle Barbicane saw the specter of the dog, +and other divers objects which had been thrown from the projectile, +obstinately following them. Diana howled lugubriously on seeing the +remains of Satellite, which seemed as motionless as if they reposed on +solid earth. + +“Do you know, my friends,” said Michel Ardan, “that if one of us had +succumbed to the shock consequent on departure, we should have had a +great deal of trouble to bury him? What am I saying? to _etherize_ him, +as here ether takes the place of earth. You see the accusing body would +have followed us into space like a remorse.” + +“That would have been sad,” said Nicholl. + +“Ah!” continued Michel, “what I regret is not being able to take a walk +outside. What voluptuousness to float amid this radiant ether, to bathe +oneself in it, to wrap oneself in the sun’s pure rays. If Barbicane had +only thought of furnishing us with a diving apparatus and an air-pump, +I could have ventured out and assumed fanciful attitudes of feigned +monsters on the top of the projectile.” + +“Well, old Michel,” replied Barbicane, “you would not have made a +feigned monster long, for in spite of your diver’s dress, swollen by +the expansion of air within you, you would have burst like a shell, or +rather like a balloon which has risen too high. So do not regret it, +and do not forget this—as long as we float in space, all sentimental +walks beyond the projectile are forbidden.” + +Michel Ardan allowed himself to be convinced to a certain extent. He +admitted that the thing was difficult but not impossible, a word which +he never uttered. + +The conversation passed from this subject to another, not failing him +for an instant. It seemed to the three friends as though, under present +conditions, ideas shot up in their brains as leaves shoot at the first +warmth of spring. They felt bewildered. In the middle of the questions +and answers which crossed each other, Nicholl put one question which +did not find an immediate solution. + +“Ah, indeed!” said he; “it is all very well to go to the moon, but how +to get back again?” + +His two interlocutors looked surprised. One would have thought that +this possibility now occurred to them for the first time. + +“What do you mean by that, Nicholl?” asked Barbicane gravely. + +“To ask for means to leave a country,” added Michel, “When we have not +yet arrived there, seems to me rather inopportune.” + +“I do not say that, wishing to draw back,” replied Nicholl; “but I +repeat my question, and I ask, ‘How shall we return?’” + +“I know nothing about it,” answered Barbicane. + +“And I,” said Michel, “if I had known how to return, I would never have +started.” + +“There’s an answer!” cried Nicholl. + +“I quite approve of Michel’s words,” said Barbicane; “and add, that the +question has no real interest. Later, when we think it is advisable to +return, we will take counsel together. If the Columbiad is not there, +the projectile will be.” + +“That is a step certainly. A ball without a gun!” + +“The gun,” replied Barbicane, “can be manufactured. The powder can be +made. Neither metals, saltpeter, nor coal can fail in the depths of the +moon, and we need only go 8,000 leagues in order to fall upon the +terrestrial globe by virtue of the mere laws of weight.” + +“Enough,” said Michel with animation. “Let it be no longer a question +of returning: we have already entertained it too long. As to +communicating with our former earthly colleagues, that will not be +difficult.” + +“And how?” + +“By means of meteors launched by lunar volcanoes.” + +“Well thought of, Michel,” said Barbicane in a convinced tone of voice. +“Laplace has calculated that a force five times greater than that of +our gun would suffice to send a meteor from the moon to the earth, and +there is not one volcano which has not a greater power of propulsion +than that.” + +“Hurrah!” exclaimed Michel; “these meteors are handy postmen, and cost +nothing. And how we shall be able to laugh at the post-office +administration! But now I think of it—” + +“What do you think of?” + +“A capital idea. Why did we not fasten a thread to our projectile, and +we could have exchanged telegrams with the earth?” + +“The deuce!” answered Nicholl. “Do you consider the weight of a thread +250,000 miles long nothing?” + +“As nothing. They could have trebled the Columbiad’s charge; they could +have quadrupled or quintupled it!” exclaimed Michel, with whom the verb +took a higher intonation each time. + +“There is but one little objection to make to your proposition,” +replied Barbicane, “which is that, during the rotary motion of the +globe, our thread would have wound itself round it like a chain on a +capstan, and that it would inevitably have brought us to the ground.” + +“By the thirty-nine stars of the Union!” said Michel, “I have nothing +but impracticable ideas to-day; ideas worthy of J. T. Maston. But I +have a notion that, if we do not return to earth, J. T. Maston will be +able to come to us.” + +“Yes, he’ll come,” replied Barbicane; “he is a worthy and a courageous +comrade. Besides, what is easier? Is not the Columbiad still buried in +the soil of Florida? Is cotton and nitric acid wanted wherewith to +manufacture the pyroxyle? Will not the moon pass the zenith of Florida? +In eighteen years’ time will she not occupy exactly the same place as +to-day?” + +“Yes,” continued Michel, “yes, Maston will come, and with him our +friends Elphinstone, Blomsberry, all the members of the Gun Club, and +they will be well received. And by and by they will run trains of +projectiles between the earth and the moon! Hurrah for J. T. Maston!” + +It is probable that, if the Hon. J. T. Maston did not hear the hurrahs +uttered in his honor, his ears at least tingled. What was he doing +then? Doubtless, posted in the Rocky Mountains, at the station of +Long’s Peak, he was trying to find the invisible projectile gravitating +in space. If he was thinking of his dear companions, we must allow that +they were not far behind him; and that, under the influence of a +strange excitement, they were devoting to him their best thoughts. + +But whence this excitement, which was evidently growing upon the +tenants of the projectile? Their sobriety could not be doubted. This +strange irritation of the brain, must it be attributed to the peculiar +circumstances under which they found themselves, to their proximity to +the orb of night, from which only a few hours separated them, to some +secret influence of the moon acting upon their nervous system? Their +faces were as rosy as if they had been exposed to the roaring flames of +an oven; their voices resounded in loud accents; their words escaped +like a champagne cork driven out by carbonic acid; their gestures +became annoying, they wanted so much room to perform them; and, strange +to say, they none of them noticed this great tension of the mind. + +“Now,” said Nicholl, in a short tone, “now that I do not know whether +we shall ever return from the moon, I want to know what we are going to +do there?” + +“What we are going to do there?” replied Barbicane, stamping with his +foot as if he was in a fencing saloon; “I do not know.” + +“You do not know!” exclaimed Michel, with a bellow which provoked a +sonorous echo in the projectile. + +“No, I have not even thought about it,” retorted Barbicane, in the same +loud tone. + +“Well, I know,” replied Michel. + +“Speak, then,” cried Nicholl, who could no longer contain the growling +of his voice. + +“I shall speak if it suits me,” exclaimed Michel, seizing his +companions’ arms with violence. + +“ _It must_ suit you,” said Barbicane, with an eye on fire and a +threatening hand. “It was you who drew us into this frightful journey, +and we want to know what for.” + +“Yes,” said the captain, “now that I do not know _where_ I am going, I +want to know _why_ I am going.” + +“Why?” exclaimed Michel, jumping a yard high, “why? To take possession +of the moon in the name of the United States; to add a fortieth State +to the Union; to colonize the lunar regions; to cultivate them, to +people them, to transport thither all the prodigies of art, of science, +and industry; to civilize the Selenites, unless they are more civilized +than we are; and to constitute them a republic, if they are not already +one!” + +“And if there are no Selenites?” retorted Nicholl, who, under the +influence of this unaccountable intoxication, was very contradictory. + +“Who said that there were no Selenites?” exclaimed Michel in a +threatening tone. + +“I do,” howled Nicholl. + +“Captain,” said Michel, “do not repeat that insolence, or I will knock +your teeth down your throat!” + +The two adversaries were going to fall upon each other, and the +incoherent discussion threatened to merge into a fight, when Barbicane +intervened with one bound. + +“Stop, miserable men,” said he, separating his two companions; “if +there are no Selenites, we will do without them.” + +“Yes,” exclaimed Michel, who was not particular; “yes, we will do +without them. We have only to make Selenites. Down with the Selenites!” + +“The empire of the moon belongs to us,” said Nicholl. + +“Let us three constitute the republic.” + +“I will be the congress,” cried Michel. + +“And I the senate,” retorted Nicholl. + +“And Barbicane, the president,” howled Michel. + +“Not a president elected by the nation,” replied Barbicane. + +“Very well, a president elected by the congress,” cried Michel; “and as +I am the congress, you are unanimously elected!” + +“Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for President Barbicane,” exclaimed Nicholl. + +“Hip! hip! hip!” vociferated Michel Ardan. + +Then the president and the senate struck up in a tremendous voice the +popular song “Yankee Doodle,” while from the congress resounded the +masculine tones of the “Marseillaise.” + +Then they struck up a frantic dance, with maniacal gestures, idiotic +stampings, and somersaults like those of the boneless clowns in the +circus. Diana, joining in the dance, and howling in her turn, jumped to +the top of the projectile. An unaccountable flapping of wings was then +heard amid most fantastic cock-crows, while five or six hens fluttered +like bats against the walls. + +Then the three traveling companions, acted upon by some unaccountable +influence above that of intoxication, inflamed by the air which had set +their respiratory apparatus on fire, fell motionless to the bottom of +the projectile. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN LEAGUES + + +What had happened? Whence the cause of this singular intoxication, the +consequences of which might have been very disastrous? A simple blunder +of Michel’s, which, fortunately, Nicholl was able to correct in time. + +After a perfect swoon, which lasted some minutes, the captain, +recovering first, soon collected his scattered senses. Although he had +breakfasted only two hours before, he felt a gnawing hunger, as if he +had not eaten anything for several days. Everything about him, stomach +and brain, were overexcited to the highest degree. He got up and +demanded from Michel a supplementary repast. Michel, utterly done up, +did not answer. + +Nicholl then tried to prepare some tea destined to help the absorption +of a dozen sandwiches. He first tried to get some fire, and struck a +match sharply. What was his surprise to see the sulphur shine with so +extraordinary a brilliancy as to be almost unbearable to the eye. From +the gas-burner which he lit rose a flame equal to a jet of electric +light. + +A revelation dawned on Nicholl’s mind. That intensity of light, the +physiological troubles which had arisen in him, the overexcitement of +all his moral and quarrelsome faculties—he understood all. + +“The oxygen!” he exclaimed. + +And leaning over the air apparatus, he saw that the tap was allowing +the colorless gas to escape freely, life-giving, but in its pure state +producing the gravest disorders in the system. Michel had blunderingly +opened the tap of the apparatus to the full. + +Nicholl hastened to stop the escape of oxygen with which the atmosphere +was saturated, which would have been the death of the travelers, not by +suffocation, but by combustion. An hour later, the air less charged +with it restored the lungs to their normal condition. By degrees the +three friends recovered from their intoxication; but they were obliged +to sleep themselves sober over their oxygen as a drunkard does over his +wine. + +When Michel learned his share of the responsibility of this incident, +he was not much disconcerted. This unexpected drunkenness broke the +monotony of the journey. Many foolish things had been said while under +its influence, but also quickly forgotten. + +“And then,” added the merry Frenchman, “I am not sorry to have tasted a +little of this heady gas. Do you know, my friends, that a curious +establishment might be founded with rooms of oxygen, where people whose +system is weakened could for a few hours live a more active life. Fancy +parties where the room was saturated with this heroic fluid, theaters +where it should be kept at high pressure; what passion in the souls of +the actors and spectators! what fire, what enthusiasm! And if, instead +of an assembly only a whole people could be saturated, what activity in +its functions, what a supplement to life it would derive. From an +exhausted nation they might make a great and strong one, and I know +more than one state in old Europe which ought to put itself under the +regime of oxygen for the sake of its health!” + +Michel spoke with so much animation that one might have fancied that +the tap was still too open. But a few words from Barbicane soon +shattered his enthusiasm. + +“That is all very well, friend Michel,” said he, “but will you inform +us where these chickens came from which have mixed themselves up in our +concert?” + +“Those chickens?” + +“Yes.” + +Indeed, half a dozen chickens and a fine cock were walking about, +flapping their wings and chattering. + +“Ah, the awkward things!” exclaimed Michel. “The oxygen has made them +revolt.” + +“But what do you want to do with these chickens?” asked Barbicane. + +“To acclimatize them in the moon, by Jove!” + +“Then why did you hide them?” + +“A joke, my worthy president, a simple joke, which has proved a +miserable failure. I wanted to set them free on the lunar continent, +without saying anything. Oh, what would have been your amazement on +seeing these earthly-winged animals pecking in your lunar fields!” + +“You rascal, you unmitigated rascal,” replied Barbicane, “you do not +want oxygen to mount to the head. You are always what we were under the +influence of the gas; you are always foolish!” + +“Ah, who says that we were not wise then?” replied Michel Ardan. + +After this philosophical reflection, the three friends set about +restoring the order of the projectile. Chickens and cock were +reinstated in their coop. But while proceeding with this operation, +Barbicane and his two companions had a most desired perception of a new +phenomenon. From the moment of leaving the earth, their own weight, +that of the projectile, and the objects it enclosed, had been subject +to an increasing diminution. If they could not prove this loss of the +projectile, a moment would arrive when it would be sensibly felt upon +themselves and the utensils and instruments they used. + +It is needless to say that a scale would not show this loss; for the +weight destined to weight the object would have lost exactly as much as +the object itself; but a spring steelyard for example, the tension of +which was independent of the attraction, would have given a just +estimate of this loss. + +We know that the attraction, otherwise called the weight, is in +proportion to the densities of the bodies, and inversely as the squares +of the distances. Hence this effect: If the earth had been alone in +space, if the other celestial bodies had been suddenly annihilated, the +projectile, according to Newton’s laws, would weigh less as it got +farther from the earth, but without ever losing its weight entirely, +for the terrestrial attraction would always have made itself felt, at +whatever distance. + +But, in reality, a time must come when the projectile would no longer +be subject to the law of weight, after allowing for the other celestial +bodies whose effect could not be set down as zero. Indeed, the +projectile’s course was being traced between the earth and the moon. As +it distanced the earth, the terrestrial attraction diminished: but the +lunar attraction rose in proportion. There must come a point where +these two attractions would neutralize each other: the projectile would +possess weight no longer. If the moon’s and the earth’s densities had +been equal, this point would have been at an equal distance between the +two orbs. But taking the different densities into consideration, it was +easy to reckon that this point would be situated at 47/60ths of the +whole journey, _i.e._, at 78,514 leagues from the earth. At this point, +a body having no principle of speed or displacement in itself, would +remain immovable forever, being attracted equally by both orbs, and not +being drawn more toward one than toward the other. + +Now if the projectile’s impulsive force had been correctly calculated, +it would attain this point without speed, having lost all trace of +weight, as well as all the objects within it. What would happen then? +Three hypotheses presented themselves. + +1. Either it would retain a certain amount of motion, and pass the +point of equal attraction, and fall upon the moon by virtue of the +excess of the lunar attraction over the terrestrial. + +2. Or, its speed failing, and unable to reach the point of equal +attraction, it would fall upon the moon by virtue of the excess of the +lunar attraction over the terrestrial. + +3. Or, lastly, animated with sufficient speed to enable it to reach the +neutral point, but not sufficient to pass it, it would remain forever +suspended in that spot like the pretended tomb of Mahomet, between the +zenith and the nadir. + +Such was their situation; and Barbicane clearly explained the +consequences to his traveling companions, which greatly interested +them. But how should they know when the projectile had reached this +neutral point situated at that distance, especially when neither +themselves, nor the objects enclosed in the projectile, would be any +longer subject to the laws of weight? + +Up to this time, the travelers, while admitting that this action was +constantly decreasing, had not yet become sensible to its total +absence. + +But that day, about eleven o’clock in the morning, Nicholl having +accidentally let a glass slip from his hand, the glass, instead of +falling, remained suspended in the air. + +“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “that is rather an amusing piece of +natural philosophy.” + +And immediately divers other objects, firearms and bottles, abandoned +to themselves, held themselves up as by enchantment. Diana too, placed +in space by Michel, reproduced, but without any trick, the wonderful +suspension practiced by Caston and Robert Houdin. Indeed the dog did +not seem to know that she was floating in air. + +The three adventurous companions were surprised and stupefied, despite +their scientific reasonings. They felt themselves being carried into +the domain of wonders! they felt that weight was really wanting to +their bodies. If they stretched out their arms, they did not attempt to +fall. Their heads shook on their shoulders. Their feet no longer clung +to the floor of the projectile. They were like drunken men having no +stability in themselves. + +Fancy has depicted men without reflection, others without shadow. But +here reality, by the neutralizations of attractive forces, produced men +in whom nothing had any weight, and who weighed nothing themselves. + +Suddenly Michel, taking a spring, left the floor and remained suspended +in the air, like Murillo’s monk of the _Cusine des Anges_. + +The two friends joined him instantly, and all three formed a miraculous +“Ascension” in the center of the projectile. + +“Is it to be believed? is it probable? is it possible?” exclaimed +Michel; “and yet it is so. Ah! if Raphael had seen us thus, what an +‘Assumption’ he would have thrown upon canvas!” + +“The ‘Assumption’ cannot last,” replied Barbicane. “If the projectile +passes the neutral point, the lunar attraction will draw us to the +moon.” + +“Then our feet will be upon the roof,” replied Michel. + +“No,” said Barbicane, “because the projectile’s center of gravity is +very low; it will only turn by degrees.” + +“Then all our portables will be upset from top to bottom, that is a +fact.” + +“Calm yourself, Michel,” replied Nicholl; “no upset is to be feared; +not a thing will move, for the projectile’s evolution will be +imperceptible.” + +“Just so,” continued Barbicane; “and when it has passed the point of +equal attraction, its base, being the heavier, will draw it +perpendicularly to the moon; but, in order that this phenomenon should +take place, we must have passed the neutral line.” + +“Pass the neutral line,” cried Michel; “then let us do as the sailors +do when they cross the equator.” + +A slight side movement brought Michel back toward the padded side; +thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them “in space” before his +companions, and, drinking merrily, they saluted the line with a triple +hurrah. The influence of these attractions scarcely lasted an hour; the +travelers felt themselves insensibly drawn toward the floor, and +Barbicane fancied that the conical end of the projectile was varying a +little from its normal direction toward the moon. By an inverse motion +the base was approaching first; the lunar attraction was prevailing +over the terrestrial; the fall toward the moon was beginning, almost +imperceptibly as yet, but by degrees the attractive force would become +stronger, the fall would be more decided, the projectile, drawn by its +base, would turn its cone to the earth, and fall with ever-increasing +speed on to the surface of the Selenite continent; their destination +would then be attained. Now nothing could prevent the success of their +enterprise, and Nicholl and Michel Ardan shared Barbicane’s joy. + +Then they chatted of all the phenomena which had astonished them one +after the other, particularly the neutralization of the laws of weight. +Michel Ardan, always enthusiastic, drew conclusions which were purely +fanciful. + +“Ah, my worthy friends,” he exclaimed, “what progress we should make if +on earth we could throw off some of that weight, some of that chain +which binds us to her; it would be the prisoner set at liberty; no more +fatigue of either arms or legs. Or, if it is true that in order to fly +on the earth’s surface, to keep oneself suspended in the air merely by +the play of the muscles, there requires a strength a hundred and fifty +times greater than that which we possess, a simple act of volition, a +caprice, would bear us into space, if attraction did not exist.” + +“Just so,” said Nicholl, smiling; “if we could succeed in suppressing +weight as they suppress pain by anaesthesia, that would change the face +of modern society!” + +“Yes,” cried Michel, full of his subject, “destroy weight, and no more +burdens!” + +“Well said,” replied Barbicane; “but if nothing had any weight, nothing +would keep in its place, not even your hat on your head, worthy Michel; +nor your house, whose stones only adhere by weight; nor a boat, whose +stability on the waves is only caused by weight; not even the ocean, +whose waves would no longer be equalized by terrestrial attraction; and +lastly, not even the atmosphere, whose atoms, being no longer held in +their places, would disperse in space!” + +“That is tiresome,” retorted Michel; “nothing like these matter-of-fact +people for bringing one back to the bare reality.” + +“But console yourself, Michel,” continued Barbicane, “for if no orb +exists from whence all laws of weight are banished, you are at least +going to visit one where it is much less than on the earth.” + +“The moon?” + +“Yes, the moon, on whose surface objects weigh six times less than on +the earth, a phenomenon easy to prove.” + +“And we shall feel it?” asked Michel. + +“Evidently, as two hundred pounds will only weigh thirty pounds on the +surface of the moon.” + +“And our muscular strength will not diminish?” + +“Not at all; instead of jumping one yard high, you will rise eighteen +feet high.” + +“But we shall be regular Herculeses in the moon!” exclaimed Michel. + +“Yes,” replied Nicholl; “for if the height of the Selenites is in +proportion to the density of their globe, they will be scarcely a foot +high.” + +“Lilliputians!” ejaculated Michel; “I shall play the part of Gulliver. +We are going to realize the fable of the giants. This is the advantage +of leaving one’s own planet and over-running the solar world.” + +“One moment, Michel,” answered Barbicane; “if you wish to play the part +of Gulliver, only visit the inferior planets, such as Mercury, Venus, +or Mars, whose density is a little less than that of the earth; but do +not venture into the great planets, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune; +for there the order will be changed, and you will become Lilliputian.” + +“And in the sun?” + +“In the sun, if its density is thirteen hundred and twenty-four +thousand times greater, and the attraction is twenty-seven times +greater than on the surface of our globe, keeping everything in +proportion, the inhabitants ought to be at least two hundred feet +high.” + +“By Jove!” exclaimed Michel; “I should be nothing more than a pigmy, a +shrimp!” + +“Gulliver with the giants,” said Nicholl. + +“Just so,” replied Barbicane. + +“And it would not be quite useless to carry some pieces of artillery to +defend oneself.” + +“Good,” replied Nicholl; “your projectiles would have no effect on the +sun; they would fall back upon the earth after some minutes.” + +“That is a strong remark.” + +“It is certain,” replied Barbicane; “the attraction is so great on this +enormous orb, that an object weighing 70,000 pounds on the earth would +weigh but 1,920 pounds on the surface of the sun. If you were to fall +upon it you would weigh—let me see—about 5,000 pounds, a weight which +you would never be able to raise again.” + +“The devil!” said Michel; “one would want a portable crane. However, we +will be satisfied with the moon for the present; there at least we +shall cut a great figure. We will see about the sun by and by.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION + + +Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at least as far +as the projectile’s impulsive force was concerned; its own speed would +carry it beyond the neutral line; it would certainly not return to +earth; it would certainly not remain motionless on the line of +attraction. One single hypothesis remained to be realized, the arrival +of the projectile at its destination by the action of the lunar +attraction. + +It was in reality a fall of 8,296 leagues on an orb, it is true, where +weight could only be reckoned at one sixth of terrestrial weight; a +formidable fall, nevertheless, and one against which every precaution +must be taken without delay. + +These precautions were of two sorts, some to deaden the shock when the +projectile should touch the lunar soil, others to delay the fall, and +consequently make it less violent. + +To deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane was no longer able to +employ the means which had so ably weakened the shock at departure, +that is to say, by water used as springs and the partition breaks. + +The partitions still existed, but water failed, for they could not use +their reserve, which was precious, in case during the first days the +liquid element should be found wanting on lunar soil. + +And indeed this reserve would have been quite insufficient for a +spring. The layer of water stored in the projectile at the time of +starting upon their journey occupied no less than three feet in depth, +and spread over a surface of not less than fifty-four square feet. +Besides, the cistern did not contain one-fifth part of it; they must +therefore give up this efficient means of deadening the shock of +arrival. Happily, Barbicane, not content with employing water, had +furnished the movable disc with strong spring plugs, destined to lessen +the shock against the base after the breaking of the horizontal +partitions. These plugs still existed; they had only to readjust them +and replace the movable disc; every piece, easy to handle, as their +weight was now scarcely felt, was quickly mounted. + +The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it being only a +matter of bolts and screws; tools were not wanting, and soon the +reinstated disc lay on steel plugs, like a table on its legs. One +inconvenience resulted from the replacing of the disc, the lower window +was blocked up; thus it was impossible for the travelers to observe the +moon from that opening while they were being precipitated +perpendicularly upon her; but they were obliged to give it up; even by +the side openings they could still see vast lunar regions, as an +aeronaut sees the earth from his car. + +This replacing of the disc was at least an hour’s work. It was past +twelve when all preparations were finished. Barbicane took fresh +observations on the inclination of the projectile, but to his annoyance +it had not turned over sufficiently for its fall; it seemed to take a +curve parallel to the lunar disc. The orb of night shone splendidly +into space, while opposite, the orb of day blazed with fire. + +Their situation began to make them uneasy. + +“Are we reaching our destination?” said Nicholl. + +“Let us act as if we were about reaching it,” replied Barbicane. + +“You are sceptical,” retorted Michel Ardan. “We shall arrive, and that, +too, quicker than we like.” + +This answer brought Barbicane back to his preparations, and he occupied +himself with placing the contrivances intended to break their descent. +We may remember the scene of the meeting held at Tampa Town, in +Florida, when Captain Nicholl came forward as Barbicane’s enemy and +Michel Ardan’s adversary. To Captain Nicholl’s maintaining that the +projectile would smash like glass, Michel replied that he would break +their fall by means of rockets properly placed. + +Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point from the base and +bursting outside, could, by producing a recoil, check to a certain +degree the projectile’s speed. These rockets were to burn in space, it +is true; but oxygen would not fail them, for they could supply +themselves with it, like the lunar volcanoes, the burning of which has +never yet been stopped by the want of atmosphere round the moon. + +Barbicane had accordingly supplied himself with these fireworks, +enclosed in little steel guns, which could be screwed on to the base of +the projectile. Inside, these guns were flush with the bottom; outside, +they protruded about eighteen inches. There were twenty of them. An +opening left in the disc allowed them to light the match with which +each was provided. All the effect was felt outside. The burning mixture +had already been rammed into each gun. They had, then, nothing to do +but raise the metallic buffers fixed in the base, and replace them by +the guns, which fitted closely in their places. + +This new work was finished about three o’clock, and after taking all +these precautions there remained but to wait. But the projectile was +perceptibly nearing the moon, and evidently succumbed to her influence +to a certain degree; though its own velocity also drew it in an oblique +direction. From these conflicting influences resulted a line which +might become a tangent. But it was certain that the projectile would +not fall directly on the moon; for its lower part, by reason of its +weight, ought to be turned toward her. + +Barbicane’s uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile resist the +influence of gravitation. The Unknown was opening before him, the +Unknown in interplanetary space. The man of science thought he had +foreseen the only three hypotheses possible—the return to the earth, +the return to the moon, or stagnation on the neutral line; and here a +fourth hypothesis, big with all the terrors of the Infinite, surged up +inopportunely. To face it without flinching, one must be a resolute +savant like Barbicane, a phlegmatic being like Nicholl, or an audacious +adventurer like Michel Ardan. + +Conversation was started upon this subject. Other men would have +considered the question from a practical point of view; they would have +asked themselves whither their projectile carriage was carrying them. +Not so with these; they sought for the cause which produced this +effect. + +“So we have become diverted from our route,” said Michel; “but why?” + +“I very much fear,” answered Nicholl, “that, in spite of all +precautions taken, the Columbiad was not fairly pointed. An error, +however small, would be enough to throw us out of the moon’s +attraction.” + +“Then they must have aimed badly?” asked Michel. + +“I do not think so,” replied Barbicane. “The perpendicularity of the +gun was exact, its direction to the zenith of the spot incontestible; +and the moon passing to the zenith of the spot, we ought to reach it at +the full. There is another reason, but it escapes me.” + +“Are we not arriving too late?” asked Nicholl. + +“Too late?” said Barbicane. + +“Yes,” continued Nicholl. “The Cambridge Observatory’s note says that +the transit ought to be accomplished in ninety-seven hours thirteen +minutes and twenty seconds; which means to say, that _sooner_ the moon +will _not_ be at the point indicated, and _later_ it will have passed +it.” + +“True,” replied Barbicane. “But we started the 1st of December, at +thirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds to eleven at night; and we +ought to arrive on the 5th at midnight, at the exact moment when the +moon would be full; and we are now at the 5th of December. It is now +half-past three in the evening; half-past eight ought to see us at the +end of our journey. Why do we not arrive?” + +“Might it not be an excess of speed?” answered Nicholl; “for we know +now that its initial velocity was greater than they supposed.” + +“No! a hundred times, no!” replied Barbicane. “An excess of speed, if +the direction of the projectile had been right, would not have +prevented us reaching the moon. No, there has been a deviation. We have +been turned out of our course.” + +“By whom? by what?” asked Nicholl. + +“I cannot say,” replied Barbicane. + +“Very well, then, Barbicane,” said Michel, “do you wish to know my +opinion on the subject of finding out this deviation?” + +“Speak.” + +“I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we have deviated is a +fact. Where we are going matters little; we shall soon see. Since we +are being borne along in space we shall end by falling into some center +of attraction or other.” + +Michel Ardan’s indifference did not content Barbicane. Not that he was +uneasy about the future, but he wanted to know at any cost _why_ his +projectile had deviated. + +But the projectile continued its course sideways to the moon, and with +it the mass of things thrown out. Barbicane could even prove, by the +elevations which served as landmarks upon the moon, which was only two +thousand leagues distant, that its speed was becoming uniform—fresh +proof that there was no fall. Its impulsive force still prevailed over +the lunar attraction, but the projectile’s course was certainly +bringing it nearer to the moon, and they might hope that at a nearer +point the weight, predominating, would cause a decided fall. + +The three friends, having nothing better to do, continued their +observations; but they could not yet determine the topographical +position of the satellite; every relief was leveled under the +reflection of the solar rays. + +They watched thus through the side windows until eight o’clock at +night. The moon had grown so large in their eyes that it filled half of +the firmament. The sun on one side, and the orb of night on the other, +flooded the projectile with light. + +At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate the distance which +separated them from their aim at no more than 700 leagues. The speed of +the projectile seemed to him to be more than 200 yards, or about 170 +leagues a second. Under the centripetal force, the base of the +projectile tended toward the moon; but the centrifugal still prevailed; +and it was probable that its rectilineal course would be changed to a +curve of some sort, the nature of which they could not at present +determine. + +Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insoluble problem. +Hours passed without any result. The projectile was evidently nearing +the moon, but it was also evident that it would never reach her. As to +the nearest distance at which it would pass her, that must be the +result of two forces, attraction and repulsion, affecting its motion. + +“I ask but one thing,” said Michel; “that we may pass near enough to +penetrate her secrets.” + +“Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile to deviate from its +course,” cried Nicholl. + +And, as if a light had suddenly broken in upon his mind, Barbicane +answered, “Then cursed be the meteor which crossed our path.” + +“What?” said Michel Ardan. + +“What do you mean?” exclaimed Nicholl. + +“I mean,” said Barbicane in a decided tone, “I mean that our deviation +is owing solely to our meeting with this erring body.” + +“But it did not even brush us as it passed,” said Michel. + +“What does that matter? Its mass, compared to that of our projectile, +was enormous, and its attraction was enough to influence our course.” + +“So little?” cried Nicholl. + +“Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might be,” replied Barbicane, “in +a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no more to make us miss the +moon.” + + + + +CHAPTER X. +THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON + + +Barbicane had evidently hit upon the only plausible reason of this +deviation. However slight it might have been, it had sufficed to modify +the course of the projectile. It was a fatality. The bold attempt had +miscarried by a fortuitous circumstance; and unless by some exceptional +event, they could now never reach the moon’s disc. + +Would they pass near enough to be able to solve certain physical and +geological questions until then insoluble? This was the question, and +the only one, which occupied the minds of these bold travelers. As to +the fate in store for themselves, they did not even dream of it. + +But what would become of them amid these infinite solitudes, these who +would soon want air? A few more days, and they would fall stifled in +this wandering projectile. But some days to these intrepid fellows was +a century; and they devoted all their time to observe that moon which +they no longer hoped to reach. + +The distance which had then separated the projectile from the satellite +was estimated at about two hundred leagues. Under these conditions, as +regards the visibility of the details of the disc, the travelers were +farther from the moon than are the inhabitants of earth with their +powerful telescopes. + +Indeed, we know that the instrument mounted by Lord Rosse at +Parsonstown, which magnifies 6,500 times, brings the moon to within an +apparent distance of sixteen leagues. And more than that, with the +powerful one set up at Long’s Peak, the orb of night, magnified 48,000 +times, is brought to within less than two leagues, and objects having a +diameter of thirty feet are seen very distinctly. So that, at this +distance, the topographical details of the moon, observed without +glasses, could not be determined with precision. The eye caught the +vast outline of those immense depressions inappropriately called +“seas,” but they could not recognize their nature. The prominence of +the mountains disappeared under the splendid irradiation produced by +the reflection of the solar rays. The eye, dazzled as if it was leaning +over a bath of molten silver, turned from it involuntarily; but the +oblong form of the orb was quite clear. It appeared like a gigantic +egg, with the small end turned toward the earth. Indeed the moon, +liquid and pliable in the first days of its formation, was originally a +perfect sphere; but being soon drawn within the attraction of the +earth, it became elongated under the influence of gravitation. In +becoming a satellite, she lost her native purity of form; her center of +gravity was in advance of the center of her figure; and from this fact +some savants draw the conclusion that the air and water had taken +refuge on the opposite surface of the moon, which is never seen from +the earth. This alteration in the primitive form of the satellite was +only perceptible for a few moments. The distance of the projectile from +the moon diminished very rapidly under its speed, though that was much +less than its initial velocity—but eight or nine times greater than +that which propels our express trains. The oblique course of the +projectile, from its very obliquity, gave Michel Ardan some hopes of +striking the lunar disc at some point or other. He could not think that +they would never reach it. No! he could not believe it; and this +opinion he often repeated. But Barbicane, who was a better judge, +always answered him with merciless logic. + +“No, Michel, no! We can only reach the moon by a fall, and we are not +falling. The centripetal force keeps us under the moon’s influence, but +the centrifugal force draws us irresistibly away from it.” + +This was said in a tone which quenched Michel Ardan’s last hope. + +The portion of the moon which the projectile was nearing was the +northern hemisphere, that which the selenographic maps place below; for +these maps are generally drawn after the outline given by the glasses, +and we know that they reverse the objects. Such was the _Mappa +Selenographica_ of Boeer and Moedler which Barbicane consulted. This +northern hemisphere presented vast plains, dotted with isolated +mountains. + +At midnight the moon was full. At that precise moment the travelers +should have alighted upon it, if the mischievous meteor had not +diverted their course. The orb was exactly in the condition determined +by the Cambridge Observatory. It was mathematically at its perigee, and +at the zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel. An observer placed at the +bottom of the enormous Columbiad, pointed perpendicularly to the +horizon, would have framed the moon in the mouth of the gun. A straight +line drawn through the axis of the piece would have passed through the +center of the orb of night. It is needless to say, that during the +night of the 5th-6th of December, the travelers took not an instant’s +rest. Could they close their eyes when so near this new world? No! All +their feelings were concentrated in one single thought:—See! +Representatives of the earth, of humanity, past and present, all +centered in them! It is through their eyes that the human race look at +these lunar regions, and penetrate the secrets of their satellite! A +strange emotion filled their hearts as they went from one window to the +other. Their observations, reproduced by Barbicane, were rigidly +determined. To take them, they had glasses; to correct them, maps. + +As regards the optical instruments at their disposal, they had +excellent marine glasses specially constructed for this journey. They +possessed magnifying powers of 100. They would thus have brought the +moon to within a distance (apparent) of less than 2,000 leagues from +the earth. But then, at a distance which for three hours in the morning +did not exceed sixty-five miles, and in a medium free from all +atmospheric disturbances, these instruments could reduce the lunar +surface to within less than 1,500 yards! + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +FANCY AND REALITY + + +“Have you ever seen the moon?” asked a professor, ironically, of one of +his pupils. + +“No, sir!” replied the pupil, still more ironically, “but I must say I +have heard it spoken of.” + +In one sense, the pupil’s witty answer might be given by a large +majority of sublunary beings. How many people have heard speak of the +moon who have never seen it—at least through a glass or a telescope! +How many have never examined the map of their satellite! + +In looking at a selenographic map, one peculiarity strikes us. Contrary +to the arrangement followed for that of the Earth and Mars, the +continents occupy more particularly the southern hemisphere of the +lunar globe. These continents do not show such decided, clear, and +regular boundary lines as South America, Africa, and the Indian +peninsula. Their angular, capricious, and deeply indented coasts are +rich in gulfs and peninsulas. They remind one of the confusion in the +islands of the Sound, where the land is excessively indented. If +navigation ever existed on the surface of the moon, it must have been +wonderfully difficult and dangerous; and we may well pity the Selenite +sailors and hydrographers; the former, when they came upon these +perilous coasts, the latter when they took the soundings of its stormy +banks. + +We may also notice that, on the lunar sphere, the south pole is much +more continental than the north pole. On the latter, there is but one +slight strip of land separated from other continents by vast seas. +Toward the south, continents clothe almost the whole of the hemisphere. +It is even possible that the Selenites have already planted the flag on +one of their poles, while Franklin, Ross, Kane, Dumont, d’Urville, and +Lambert have never yet been able to attain that unknown point of the +terrestrial globe. + +As to islands, they are numerous on the surface of the moon. Nearly all +oblong or circular, and as if traced with the compass, they seem to +form one vast archipelago, equal to that charming group lying between +Greece and Asia Minor, and which mythology in ancient times adorned +with most graceful legends. Involuntarily the names of Naxos, Tenedos, +and Carpathos, rise before the mind, and we seek vainly for Ulysses’ +vessel or the “clipper” of the Argonauts. So at least it was in Michel +Ardan’s eyes. To him it was a Grecian archipelago that he saw on the +map. To the eyes of his matter-of-fact companions, the aspect of these +coasts recalled rather the parceled-out land of New Brunswick and Nova +Scotia, and where the Frenchman discovered traces of the heroes of +fable, these Americans were marking the most favorable points for the +establishment of stores in the interests of lunar commerce and +industry. + +After wandering over these vast continents, the eye is attracted by the +still greater seas. Not only their formation, but their situation and +aspect remind one of the terrestrial oceans; but again, as on earth, +these seas occupy the greater portion of the globe. But in point of +fact, these are not liquid spaces, but plains, the nature of which the +travelers hoped soon to determine. Astronomers, we must allow, have +graced these pretended seas with at least odd names, which science has +respected up to the present time. Michel Ardan was right when he +compared this map to a “Tendre card,” got up by a Scudary or a Cyrano +de Bergerac. “Only,” said he, “it is no longer the sentimental card of +the seventeenth century, it is the card of life, very neatly divided +into two parts, one feminine, the other masculine; the right hemisphere +for woman, the left for man.” + +In speaking thus, Michel made his prosaic companions shrug their +shoulders. Barbicane and Nicholl looked upon the lunar map from a very +different point of view to that of their fantastic friend. +Nevertheless, their fantastic friend was a little in the right. Judge +for yourselves. + +In the left hemisphere stretches the “Sea of Clouds,” where human +reason is so often shipwrecked. Not far off lies the “Sea of Rains,” +fed by all the fever of existence. Near this is the “Sea of Storms,” +where man is ever fighting against his passions, which too often gain +the victory. Then, worn out by deceit, treasons, infidelity, and the +whole body of terrestrial misery, what does he find at the end of his +career? that vast “Sea of Humors,” barely softened by some drops of the +waters from the “Gulf of Dew!” Clouds, rain, storms, and humors—does +the life of man contain aught but these? and is it not summed up in +these four words? + +The right hemisphere, “dedicated to the ladies,” encloses smaller seas, +whose significant names contain every incident of a feminine existence. +There is the “Sea of Serenity,” over which the young girl bends; “The +Lake of Dreams,” reflecting a joyous future; “The Sea of Nectar,” with +its waves of tenderness and breezes of love; “The Sea of Fruitfulness;” +“The Sea of Crises;” then the “Sea of Vapors,” whose dimensions are +perhaps a little too confined; and lastly, that vast “Sea of +Tranquillity,” in which every false passion, every useless dream, every +unsatisfied desire is at length absorbed, and whose waves emerge +peacefully into the “Lake of Death!” + +What a strange succession of names! What a singular division of the +moon’s two hemispheres, joined to one another like man and woman, and +forming that sphere of life carried into space! And was not the +fantastic Michel right in thus interpreting the fancies of the ancient +astronomers? But while his imagination thus roved over “the seas,” his +grave companions were considering things more geographically. They were +learning this new world by heart. They were measuring angles and +diameters. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +OROGRAPHIC DETAILS + + +The course taken by the projectile, as we have before remarked, was +bearing it toward the moon’s northern hemisphere. The travelers were +far from the central point which they would have struck, had their +course not been subject to an irremediable deviation. It was past +midnight; and Barbicane then estimated the distance at seven hundred +and fifty miles, which was a little greater than the length of the +lunar radius, and which would diminish as it advanced nearer to the +North Pole. The projectile was then not at the altitude of the equator; +but across the tenth parallel, and from that latitude, carefully taken +on the map to the pole, Barbicane and his two companions were able to +observe the moon under the most favorable conditions. Indeed, by means +of glasses, the above-named distance was reduced to little more than +fourteen miles. The telescope of the Rocky Mountains brought the moon +much nearer; but the terrestrial atmosphere singularly lessened its +power. Thus Barbicane, posted in his projectile, with the glasses to +his eyes, could seize upon details which were almost imperceptible to +earthly observers. + +“My friends,” said the president, in a serious voice, “I do not know +whither we are going; I do not know if we shall ever see the +terrestrial globe again. Nevertheless, let us proceed as if our work +would one day by useful to our fellow-men. Let us keep our minds free +from every other consideration. We are astronomers; and this projectile +is a room in the Cambridge University, carried into space. Let us make +our observations!” + +This said, work was begun with great exactness; and they faithfully +reproduced the different aspects of the moon, at the different +distances which the projectile reached. + +At the time that the projectile was as high as the tenth parallel, +north latitude, it seemed rigidly to follow the twentieth degree, east +longitude. We must here make one important remark with regard to the +map by which they were taking observations. In the selenographical maps +where, on account of the reversing of the objects by the glasses, the +south is above and the north below, it would seem natural that, on +account of that inversion, the east should be to the left hand, and the +west to the right. But it is not so. If the map were turned upside +down, showing the moon as we see her, the east would be to the left, +and the west to the right, contrary to that which exists on terrestrial +maps. The following is the reason of this anomaly. Observers in the +northern hemisphere (say in Europe) see the moon in the south—according +to them. When they take observations, they turn their backs to the +north, the reverse position to that which they occupy when they study a +terrestrial map. As they turn their backs to the north, the east is on +their left, and the west to their right. To observers in the southern +hemisphere (Patagonia for example), the moon’s west would be quite to +their left, and the east to their right, as the south is behind them. +Such is the reason of the apparent reversing of these two cardinal +points, and we must bear it in mind in order to be able to follow +President Barbicane’s observations. + +With the help of Boeer and Moedler’s _Mappa Selenographica_, the +travelers were able at once to recognize that portion of the disc +enclosed within the field of their glasses. + +“What are we looking at, at this moment?” asked Michel. + +“At the northern part of the ‘Sea of Clouds,’” answered Barbicane. “We +are too far off to recognize its nature. Are these plains composed of +arid sand, as the first astronomer maintained? Or are they nothing but +immense forests, according to M. Warren de la Rue’s opinion, who gives +the moon an atmosphere, though a very low and a very dense one? That we +shall know by and by. We must affirm nothing until we are in a position +to do so.” + +This “Sea of Clouds” is rather doubtfully marked out upon the maps. It +is supposed that these vast plains are strewn with blocks of lava from +the neighboring volcanoes on its right, Ptolemy, Purbach, Arzachel. But +the projectile was advancing, and sensibly nearing it. Soon there +appeared the heights which bound this sea at this northern limit. +Before them rose a mountain radiant with beauty, the top of which +seemed lost in an eruption of solar rays. + +“That is—?” asked Michel. + +“Copernicus,” replied Barbicane. + +“Let us see Copernicus.” + +This mount, situated in 9° north latitude and 20° east longitude, rose +to a height of 10,600 feet above the surface of the moon. It is quite +visible from the earth; and astronomers can study it with ease, +particularly during the phase between the last quarter and the new +moon, because then the shadows are thrown lengthways from east to west, +allowing them to measure the heights. + +This Copernicus forms the most important of the radiating system, +situated in the southern hemisphere, according to Tycho Brahé. It rises +isolated like a gigantic lighthouse on that portion of the “Sea of +Clouds,” which is bounded by the “Sea of Tempests,” thus lighting by +its splendid rays two oceans at a time. It was a sight without an +equal, those long luminous trains, so dazzling in the full moon, and +which, passing the boundary chain on the north, extends to the “Sea of +Rains.” At one o’clock of the terrestrial morning, the projectile, like +a balloon borne into space, overlooked the top of this superb mount. +Barbicane could recognize perfectly its chief features. Copernicus is +comprised in the series of ringed mountains of the first order, in the +division of great circles. Like Kepler and Aristarchus, which overlook +the “Ocean of Tempests,” sometimes it appeared like a brilliant point +through the cloudy light, and was taken for a volcano in activity. But +it is only an extinct one—like all on that side of the moon. Its +circumference showed a diameter of about twenty-two leagues. The +glasses discovered traces of stratification produced by successive +eruptions, and the neighborhood was strewn with volcanic remains which +still choked some of the craters. + +“There exist,” said Barbicane, “several kinds of circles on the surface +of the moon, and it is easy to see that Copernicus belongs to the +radiating class. If we were nearer, we should see the cones bristling +on the inside, which in former times were so many fiery mouths. A +curious arrangement, and one without an exception on the lunar disc, is +that the interior surface of these circles is the reverse of the +exterior, and contrary to the form taken by terrestrial craters. It +follows, then, that the general curve of the bottom of these circles +gives a sphere of a smaller diameter than that of the moon.” + +“And why this peculiar disposition?” asked Nicholl. + +“We do not know,” replied Barbicane. + +“What splendid radiation!” said Michel. “One could hardly see a finer +spectacle, I think.” + +“What would you say, then,” replied Barbicane, “if chance should bear +us toward the southern hemisphere?” + +“Well, I should say that it was still more beautiful,” retorted Michel +Ardan. + +At this moment the projectile hung perpendicularly over the circle. The +circumference of Copernicus formed almost a perfect circle, and its +steep escarpments were clearly defined. They could even distinguish a +second ringed enclosure. Around spread a grayish plain, of a wild +aspect, on which every relief was marked in yellow. At the bottom of +the circle, as if enclosed in a jewel case, sparkled for one instant +two or three eruptive cones, like enormous dazzling gems. Toward the +north the escarpments were lowered by a depression which would probably +have given access to the interior of the crater. + +In passing over the surrounding plains, Barbicane noticed a great +number of less important mountains; and among others a little ringed +one called Guy Lussac, the breadth of which measured twelve miles. + +Toward the south, the plain was very flat, without one elevation, +without one projection. Toward the north, on the contrary, till where +it was bounded by the “Sea of Storms,” it resembled a liquid surface +agitated by a storm, of which the hills and hollows formed a succession +of waves suddenly congealed. Over the whole of this, and in all +directions, lay the luminous lines, all converging to the summit of +Copernicus. + +The travelers discussed the origin of these strange rays; but they +could not determine their nature any more than terrestrial observers. + +“But why,” said Nicholl, “should not these rays be simply spurs of +mountains which reflect more vividly the light of the sun?” + +“No,” replied Barbicane; “if it was so, under certain conditions of the +moon, these ridges would cast shadows, and they do not cast any.” + +And indeed, these rays only appeared when the orb of day was in +opposition to the moon, and disappeared as soon as its rays became +oblique. + +“But how have they endeavored to explain these lines of light?” asked +Michel; “for I cannot believe that savants would ever be stranded for +want of an explanation.” + +“Yes,” replied Barbicane; “Herschel has put forward an opinion, but he +did not venture to affirm it.” + +“Never mind. What was the opinion?” + +“He thought that these rays might be streams of cooled lava which shone +when the sun beat straight upon them. It may be so; but nothing can be +less certain. Besides, if we pass nearer to Tycho, we shall be in a +better position to find out the cause of this radiation.” + +“Do you know, my friends, what that plain, seen from the height we are +at, resembles?” said Michel. + +“No,” replied Nicholl. + +“Very well; with all those pieces of lava lengthened like rockets, it +resembles an immense game of spelikans thrown pellmell. There wants but +the hook to pull them out one by one.” + +“Do be serious,” said Barbicane. + +“Well, let us be serious,” replied Michel quietly; “and instead of +spelikans, let us put bones. This plain, would then be nothing but an +immense cemetery, on which would repose the mortal remains of thousands +of extinct generations. Do you prefer that high-flown comparison?” + +“One is as good as the other,” retorted Barbicane. + +“My word, you are difficult to please,” answered Michel. + +“My worthy friend,” continued the matter-of-fact Barbicane, “it matters +but little what it _resembles_, when we do not know what it _is_.” + +“Well answered,” exclaimed Michel. “That will teach me to reason with +savants.” + +But the projectile continued to advance with almost uniform speed +around the lunar disc. The travelers, we may easily imagine, did not +dream of taking a moment’s rest. Every minute changed the landscape +which fled from beneath their gaze. About half past one o’clock in the +morning, they caught a glimpse of the tops of another mountain. +Barbicane, consulting his map, recognized Eratosthenes. + +It was a ringed mountain nine thousand feet high, and one of those +circles so numerous on this satellite. With regard to this, Barbicane +related Kepler’s singular opinion on the formation of circles. +According to that celebrated mathematician, these crater-like cavities +had been dug by the hand of man. + +“For what purpose?” asked Nicholl. + +“For a very natural one,” replied Barbicane. “The Selenites might have +undertaken these immense works and dug these enormous holes for a +refuge and shield from the solar rays which beat upon them during +fifteen consecutive days.” + +“The Selenites are not fools,” said Michel. + +“A singular idea,” replied Nicholl; “but it is probable that Kepler did +not know the true dimensions of these circles, for the digging of them +would have been the work of giants quite impossible for the Selenites.” + +“Why? if weight on the moon’s surface is six times less than on the +earth?” said Michel. + +“But if the Selenites are six times smaller?” retorted Nicholl. + +“And if there are _no_ Selenites?” added Barbicane. + +This put an end to the discussion. + +Soon Eratosthenes disappeared under the horizon without the projectile +being sufficiently near to allow close observation. This mountain +separated the Apennines from the Carpathians. In the lunar orography +they have discerned some chains of mountains, which are chiefly +distributed over the northern hemisphere. Some, however, occupy certain +portions of the southern hemisphere also. + +About two o’clock in the morning Barbicane found that they were above +the twentieth lunar parallel. The distance of the projectile from the +moon was not more than six hundred miles. Barbicane, now perceiving +that the projectile was steadily approaching the lunar disc, did not +despair; if not of reaching her, at least of discovering the secrets of +her configuration. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +LUNAR LANDSCAPES + + +At half-past two in the morning, the projectile was over the thirteenth +lunar parallel and at the effective distance of five hundred miles, +reduced by the glasses to five. It still seemed impossible, however, +that it could ever touch any part of the disc. Its motive speed, +comparatively so moderate, was inexplicable to President Barbicane. At +that distance from the moon it must have been considerable, to enable +it to bear up against her attraction. Here was a phenomenon the cause +of which escaped them again. Besides, time failed them to investigate +the cause. All lunar relief was defiling under the eyes of the +travelers, and they would not lose a single detail. + +Under the glasses the disc appeared at the distance of five miles. What +would an aeronaut, borne to this distance from the earth, distinguish +on its surface? We cannot say, since the greatest ascension has not +been more than 25,000 feet. + +This, however, is an exact description of what Barbicane and his +companions saw at this height. Large patches of different colors +appeared on the disc. Selenographers are not agreed upon the nature of +these colors. There are several, and rather vividly marked. Julius +Schmidt pretends that, if the terrestrial oceans were dried up, a +Selenite observer could not distinguish on the globe a greater +diversity of shades between the oceans and the continental plains than +those on the moon present to a terrestrial observer. According to him, +the color common to the vast plains known by the name of “seas” is a +dark gray mixed with green and brown. Some of the large craters present +the same appearance. Barbicane knew this opinion of the German +selenographer, an opinion shared by Boeer and Moedler. Observation has +proved that right was on their side, and not on that of some +astronomers who admit the existence of only gray on the moon’s surface. +In some parts green was very distinct, such as springs, according to +Julius Schmidt, from the seas of “Serenity and Humors.” Barbicane also +noticed large craters, without any interior cones, which shed a bluish +tint similar to the reflection of a sheet of steel freshly polished. +These colors belonged really to the lunar disc, and did not result, as +some astronomers say, either from the imperfection in the objective of +the glasses or from the interposition of the terrestrial atmosphere. + +Not a doubt existed in Barbicane’s mind with regard to it, as he +observed it through space, and so could not commit any optical error. +He considered the establishment of this fact as an acquisition to +science. Now, were these shades of green, belonging to tropical +vegetation, kept up by a low dense atmosphere? He could not yet say. + +Farther on, he noticed a reddish tint, quite defined. The same shade +had before been observed at the bottom of an isolated enclosure, known +by the name of Lichtenburg’s circle, which is situated near the +Hercynian mountains, on the borders of the moon; but they could not +tell the nature of it. + +They were not more fortunate with regard to another peculiarity of the +disc, for they could not decide upon the cause of it. + +Michel Ardan was watching near the president, when he noticed long +white lines, vividly lighted up by the direct rays of the sun. It was a +succession of luminous furrows, very different from the radiation of +Copernicus not long before; they ran parallel with each other. + +Michel, with his usual readiness, hastened to exclaim: + +“Look there! cultivated fields!” + +“Cultivated fields!” replied Nicholl, shrugging his shoulders. + +“Plowed, at all events,” retorted Michel Ardan; “but what laborers +those Selenites must be, and what giant oxen they must harness to their +plow to cut such furrows!” + +“They are not furrows,” said Barbicane; “they are _rifts_.” + +“Rifts? stuff!” replied Michel mildly; “but what do you mean by ‘rifts’ +in the scientific world?” + +Barbicane immediately enlightened his companion as to what he knew +about lunar rifts. He knew that they were a kind of furrow found on +every part of the disc which was not mountainous; that these furrows, +generally isolated, measured from 400 to 500 leagues in length; that +their breadth varied from 1,000 to 1,500 yards, and that their borders +were strictly parallel; but he knew nothing more either of their +formation or their nature. + +Barbicane, through his glasses, observed these rifts with great +attention. He noticed that their borders were formed of steep +declivities; they were long parallel ramparts, and with some small +amount of imagination he might have admitted the existence of long +lines of fortifications, raised by Selenite engineers. Of these +different rifts some were perfectly straight, as if cut by a line; +others were slightly curved, though still keeping their borders +parallel; some crossed each other, some cut through craters; here they +wound through ordinary cavities, such as Posidonius or Petavius; there +they wound through the seas, such as the “Sea of Serenity.” + +These natural accidents naturally excited the imaginations of these +terrestrial astronomers. The first observations had not discovered +these rifts. Neither Hévelius, Cassin, La Hire, nor Herschel seemed to +have known them. It was Schroeter who in 1789 first drew attention to +them. Others followed who studied them, as Pastorff, Gruithuysen, +Boeer, and Moedler. At this time their number amounts to seventy; but, +if they have been counted, their nature has not yet been determined; +they are certainly _not_ fortifications, any more than they are the +ancient beds of dried-up rivers; for, on one side, the waters, so +slight on the moon’s surface, could never have worn such drains for +themselves; and, on the other, they often cross craters of great +elevation. + +We must, however, allow that Michel Ardan had “an idea,” and that, +without knowing it, he coincided in that respect with Julius Schmidt. + +“Why,” said he, “should not these unaccountable appearances be simply +phenomena of vegetation?” + +“What do you mean?” asked Barbicane quickly. + +“Do not excite yourself, my worthy president,” replied Michel; “might +it not be possible that the dark lines forming that bastion were rows +of trees regularly placed?” + +“You stick to your vegetation, then?” said Barbicane. + +“I like,” retorted Michel Ardan, “to explain what you savants cannot +explain; at least my hypotheses has the advantage of indicating why +these rifts disappear, or seem to disappear, at certain seasons.” + +“And for what reason?” + +“For the reason that the trees become invisible when they lose their +leaves, and visible again when they regain them.” + +“Your explanation is ingenious, my dear companion,” replied Barbicane, +“but inadmissible.” + +“Why?” + +“Because, so to speak, there are no seasons on the moon’s surface, and +that, consequently, the phenomena of vegetation of which you speak +cannot occur.” + +Indeed, the slight obliquity of the lunar axis keeps the sun at an +almost equal height in every latitude. Above the equatorial regions the +radiant orb almost invariably occupies the zenith, and does not pass +the limits of the horizon in the polar regions; thus, according to each +region, there reigns a perpetual winter, spring, summer, or autumn, as +in the planet Jupiter, whose axis is but little inclined upon its +orbit. + +What origin do they attribute to these rifts? That is a question +difficult to solve. They are certainly anterior to the formation of +craters and circles, for several have introduced themselves by breaking +through their circular ramparts. Thus it may be that, contemporary with +the later geological epochs, they are due to the expansion of natural +forces. + +But the projectile had now attained the fortieth degree of lunar +latitude, at a distance not exceeding 40 miles. Through the glasses +objects appeared to be only four miles distant. + +At this point, under their feet, rose Mount Helicon, 1,520 feet high, +and round about the left rose moderate elevations, enclosing a small +portion of the “Sea of Rains,” under the name of the Gulf of Iris. The +terrestrial atmosphere would have to be one hundred and seventy times +more transparent than it is, to allow astronomers to make perfect +observations on the moon’s surface; but in the void in which the +projectile floated no fluid interposed itself between the eye of the +observer and the object observed. And more, Barbicane found himself +carried to a greater distance than the most powerful telescopes had +ever done before, either that of Lord Rosse or that of the Rocky +Mountains. He was, therefore, under extremely favorable conditions for +solving that great question of the habitability of the moon; but the +solution still escaped him; he could distinguish nothing but desert +beds, immense plains, and toward the north, arid mountains. Not a work +betrayed the hand of man; not a ruin marked his course; not a group of +animals was to be seen indicating life, even in an inferior degree. In +no part was there life, in no part was there an appearance of +vegetation. Of the three kingdoms which share the terrestrial globe +between them, one alone was represented on the lunar and that the +mineral. + +“Ah, indeed!” said Michel Ardan, a little out of countenance; “then you +see no one?” + +“No,” answered Nicholl; “up to this time, not a man, not an animal, not +a tree! After all, whether the atmosphere has taken refuge at the +bottom of cavities, in the midst of the circles, or even on the +opposite face of the moon, we cannot decide.” + +“Besides,” added Barbicane, “even to the most piercing eye a man cannot +be distinguished farther than three and a half miles off; so that, if +there are any Selenites, they can see our projectile, but we cannot see +them.” + +Toward four in the morning, at the height of the fiftieth parallel, the +distance was reduced to 300 miles. To the left ran a line of mountains +capriciously shaped, lying in the full light. To the right, on the +contrary, lay a black hollow resembling a vast well, unfathomable and +gloomy, drilled into the lunar soil. + +This hole was the “Black Lake”; it was Pluto, a deep circle which can +be conveniently studied from the earth, between the last quarter and +the new moon, when the shadows fall from west to east. + +This black color is rarely met with on the surface of the satellite. As +yet it has only been recognized in the depths of the circle of +Endymion, to the east of the “Cold Sea,” in the northern hemisphere, +and at the bottom of Grimaldi’s circle, on the equator, toward the +eastern border of the orb. + +Pluto is an annular mountain, situated in 51° north latitude, and 9° +east longitude. Its circuit is forty-seven miles long and thirty-two +broad. + +Barbicane regretted that they were not passing directly above this vast +opening. There was an abyss to fathom, perhaps some mysterious +phenomenon to surprise; but the projectile’s course could not be +altered. They must rigidly submit. They could not guide a balloon, +still less a projectile, when once enclosed within its walls. Toward +five in the morning the northern limits of the “Sea of Rains” was at +length passed. The mounts of Condamine and Fontenelle remained—one on +the right, the other on the left. That part of the disc beginning with +60° was becoming quite mountainous. The glasses brought them to within +two miles, less than that separating the summit of Mont Blanc from the +level of the sea. The whole region was bristling with spikes and +circles. Toward the 60° Philolaus stood predominant at a height of +5,550 feet with its elliptical crater, and seen from this distance, the +disc showed a very fantastical appearance. Landscapes were presented to +the eye under very different conditions from those on the earth, and +also very inferior to them. + +The moon having no atmosphere, the consequences arising from the +absence of this gaseous envelope have already been shown. No twilight +on her surface; night following day and day following night with the +suddenness of a lamp which is extinguished or lighted amid profound +darkness—no transition from cold to heat, the temperature falling in an +instant from boiling point to the cold of space. + +Another consequence of this want of air is that absolute darkness +reigns where the sun’s rays do not penetrate. That which on earth is +called diffusion of light, that luminous matter which the air holds in +suspension, which creates the twilight and the daybreak, which produces +the _umbrae_ and _penumbrae_, and all the magic of _chiaro-oscuro_, +does not exist on the moon. Hence the harshness of contrasts, which +only admit of two colors, black and white. If a Selenite were to shade +his eyes from the sun’s rays, the sky would seem absolutely black, and +the stars would shine to him as on the darkest night. Judge of the +impression produced on Barbicane and his three friends by this strange +scene! Their eyes were confused. They could no longer grasp the +respective distances of the different plains. A lunar landscape without +the softening of the phenomena of _chiaro-oscuro_ could not be rendered +by an earthly landscape painter; it would be spots of ink on a white +page—nothing more. + +This aspect was not altered even when the projectile, at the height of +80°, was only separated from the moon by a distance of fifty miles; nor +even when, at five in the morning, it passed at less than twenty-five +miles from the mountain of Gioja, a distance reduced by the glasses to +a quarter of a mile. It seemed as if the moon might be touched by the +hand! It seemed impossible that, before long, the projectile would not +strike her, if only at the north pole, the brilliant arch of which was +so distinctly visible on the black sky. + +Michel Ardan wanted to open one of the scuttles and throw himself on to +the moon’s surface! A very useless attempt; for if the projectile could +not attain any point whatever of the satellite, Michel, carried along +by its motion, could not attain it either. + +At that moment, at six o’clock, the lunar pole appeared. The disc only +presented to the travelers’ gaze one half brilliantly lit up, while the +other disappeared in the darkness. Suddenly the projectile passed the +line of demarcation between intense light and absolute darkness, and +was plunged in profound night! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +THE NIGHT OF THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR HOURS AND A HALF + + +At the moment when this phenomenon took place so rapidly, the +projectile was skirting the moon’s north pole at less than twenty-five +miles distance. Some seconds had sufficed to plunge it into the +absolute darkness of space. The transition was so sudden, without +shade, without gradation of light, without attenuation of the luminous +waves, that the orb seemed to have been extinguished by a powerful +blow. + +“Melted, disappeared!” Michel Ardan exclaimed, aghast. + +Indeed, there was neither reflection nor shadow. Nothing more was to be +seen of that disc, formerly so dazzling. The darkness was complete. and +rendered even more so by the rays from the stars. It was “that +blackness” in which the lunar nights are insteeped, which last three +hundred and fifty-four hours and a half at each point of the disc, a +long night resulting from the equality of the translatory and rotary +movements of the moon. The projectile, immerged in the conical shadow +of the satellite, experienced the action of the solar rays no more than +any of its invisible points. + +In the interior, the obscurity was complete. They could not see each +other. Hence the necessity of dispelling the darkness. However desirous +Barbicane might be to husband the gas, the reserve of which was small, +he was obliged to ask from it a fictitious light, an expensive +brilliancy which the sun then refused. + +“Devil take the radiant orb!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “which forces us +to expend gas, instead of giving us his rays gratuitously.” + +“Do not let us accuse the sun,” said Nicholl, “it is not his fault, but +that of the moon, which has come and placed herself like a screen +between us and it.” + +“It is the sun!” continued Michel. + +“It is the moon!” retorted Nicholl. + +An idle dispute, which Barbicane put an end to by saying: + +“My friends, it is neither the fault of the sun nor of the moon; it is +the fault of the _projectile_, which, instead of rigidly following its +course, has awkwardly missed it. To be more just, it is the fault of +that unfortunate meteor which has so deplorably altered our first +direction.” + +“Well,” replied Michel Ardan, “as the matter is settled, let us have +breakfast. After a whole night of watching it is fair to build +ourselves up a little.” + +This proposal meeting with no contradiction, Michel prepared the repast +in a few minutes. But they ate for eating’s sake, they drank without +toasts, without hurrahs. The bold travelers being borne away into +gloomy space, without their accustomed _cortege_ of rays, felt a vague +uneasiness in their hearts. The “strange” shadow so dear to Victor +Hugo’s pen bound them on all sides. But they talked over the +interminable night of three hundred and fifty-four hours and a half, +nearly fifteen days, which the law of physics has imposed on the +inhabitants of the moon. + +Barbicane gave his friends some explanation of the causes and the +consequences of this curious phenomenon. + +“Curious indeed,” said they; “for, if each hemisphere of the moon is +deprived of solar light for fifteen days, that above which we now float +does not even enjoy during its long night any view of the earth so +beautifully lit up. In a word she has no moon (applying this +designation to our globe) but on one side of her disc. Now if this were +the case with the earth—if, for example, Europe never saw the moon, and +she was only visible at the antipodes, imagine to yourself the +astonishment of a European on arriving in Australia.” + +“They would make the voyage for nothing but to see the moon!” replied +Michel. + +“Very well!” continued Barbicane, “that astonishment is reserved for +the Selenites who inhabit the face of the moon opposite to the earth, a +face which is ever invisible to our countrymen of the terrestrial +globe.” + +“And which we should have seen,” added Nicholl, “if we had arrived here +when the moon was new, that is to say fifteen days later.” + +“I will add, to make amends,” continued Barbicane, “that the +inhabitants of the visible face are singularly favored by nature, to +the detriment of their brethren on the invisible face. The latter, as +you see, have dark nights of 354 hours, without one single ray to break +the darkness. The other, on the contrary, when the sun which has given +its light for fifteen days sinks below the horizon, see a splendid orb +rise on the opposite horizon. It is the earth, which is thirteen times +greater than the diminutive moon that we know—the earth which developes +itself at a diameter of two degrees, and which sheds a light thirteen +times greater than that qualified by atmospheric strata—the earth which +only disappears at the moment when the sun reappears in its turn!” + +“Nicely worded!” said Michel, “slightly academical perhaps.” + +“It follows, then,” continued Barbicane, without knitting his brows, +“that the visible face of the disc must be very agreeable to inhabit, +since it always looks on either the sun when the moon is full, or on +the earth when the moon is new.” + +“But,” said Nicholl, “that advantage must be well compensated by the +insupportable heat which the light brings with it.” + +“The inconvenience, in that respect, is the same for the two faces, for +the earth’s light is evidently deprived of heat. But the invisible face +is still more searched by the heat than the visible face. I say that +for _you_, Nicholl, because Michel will probably not understand.” + +“Thank you,” said Michel. + +“Indeed,” continued Barbicane, “when the invisible face receives at the +same time light and heat from the sun, it is because the moon is new; +that is to say, she is situated between the sun and the earth. It +follows, then, considering the position which she occupies in +opposition when full, that she is nearer to the sun by twice her +distance from the earth; and that distance may be estimated at the +two-hundredth part of that which separates the sun from the earth, or +in round numbers 400,000 miles. So that invisible face is so much +nearer to the sun when she receives its rays.” + +“Quite right,” replied Nicholl. + +“On the contrary,” continued Barbicane. + +“One moment,” said Michel, interrupting his grave companion. + +“What do you want?” + +“I ask to be allowed to continue the explanation.” + +“And why?” + +“To prove that I understand.” + +“Get along with you,” said Barbicane, smiling. + +“On the contrary,” said Michel, imitating the tone and gestures of the +president, “on the contrary, when the visible face of the moon is lit +by the sun, it is because the moon is full, that is to say, opposite +the sun with regard to the earth. The distance separating it from the +radiant orb is then increased in round numbers to 400,000 miles, and +the heat which she receives must be a little less.” + +“Very well said!” exclaimed Barbicane. “Do you know, Michel, that, for +an amateur, you are intelligent.” + +“Yes,” replied Michel coolly, “we are all so on the Boulevard des +Italiens.” + +Barbicane gravely grasped the hand of his amiable companion, and +continued to enumerate the advantages reserved for the inhabitants of +the visible face. + +Among others, he mentioned eclipses of the sun, which only take place +on this side of the lunar disc; since, in order that they may take +place, it is necessary for the moon to be _in opposition_. These +eclipses, caused by the interposition of the earth between the moon and +the sun, can last _two hours_; during which time, by reason of the rays +refracted by its atmosphere, the terrestrial globe can appear as +nothing but a black point upon the sun. + +“So,” said Nicholl, “there is a hemisphere, that invisible hemisphere +which is very ill supplied, very ill treated, by nature.” + +“Never mind,” replied Michel; “if we ever become Selenites, we will +inhabit the visible face. I like the light.” + +“Unless, by any chance,” answered Nicholl, “the atmosphere should be +condensed on the other side, as certain astronomers pretend.” + +“That would be a consideration,” said Michel. + +Breakfast over, the observers returned to their post. They tried to see +through the darkened scuttles by extinguishing all light in the +projectile; but not a luminous spark made its way through the darkness. + +One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbicane. Why, having passed within +such a short distance of the moon—about twenty-five miles only—why the +projectile had not fallen? If its speed had been enormous, he could +have understood that the fall would not have taken place; but, with a +relatively moderate speed, that resistance to the moon’s attraction +could not be explained. Was the projectile under some foreign +influence? Did some kind of body retain it in the ether? It was quite +evident that it could never reach any point of the moon. Whither was it +going? Was it going farther from, or nearing, the disc? Was it being +borne in that profound darkness through the infinity of space? How +could they learn, how calculate, in the midst of this night? All these +questions made Barbicane uneasy, but he could not solve them. + +Certainly, the invisible orb was _there_, perhaps only some few miles +off; but neither he nor his companions could see it. If there was any +noise on its surface, they could not hear it. Air, that medium of +sound, was wanting to transmit the groanings of that moon which the +Arabic legends call “a man already half granite, and still breathing.” + +One must allow that that was enough to aggravate the most patient +observers. It was just that unknown hemisphere which was stealing from +their sight. That face which fifteen days sooner, or fifteen days +later, had been, or would be, splendidly illuminated by the solar rays, +was then being lost in utter darkness. In fifteen days where would the +projectile be? Who could say? Where would the chances of conflicting +attractions have drawn it to? The disappointment of the travelers in +the midst of this utter darkness may be imagined. All observation of +the lunar disc was impossible. The constellations alone claimed all +their attention; and we must allow that the astronomers Faye, +Charconac, and Secchi, never found themselves in circumstances so +favorable for their observation. + +Indeed, nothing could equal the splendor of this starry world, bathed +in limpid ether. Its diamonds set in the heavenly vault sparkled +magnificently. The eye took in the firmament from the Southern Cross to +the North Star, those two constellations which in 12,000 years, by +reason of the succession of equinoxes, will resign their part of the +polar stars, the one to Canopus in the southern hemisphere, the other +to Wega in the northern. Imagination loses itself in this sublime +Infinity, amid which the projectile was gravitating, like a new star +created by the hand of man. From a natural cause, these constellations +shone with a soft luster; they did not twinkle, for there was no +atmosphere which, by the intervention of its layers unequally dense and +of different degrees of humidity, produces this scintillation. These +stars were soft eyes, looking out into the dark night, amid the silence +of absolute space. + +Long did the travelers stand mute, watching the constellated firmament, +upon which the moon, like a vast screen, made an enormous black hole. +But at length a painful sensation drew them from their watchings. This +was an intense cold, which soon covered the inside of the glass of the +scuttles with a thick coating of ice. The sun was no longer warming the +projectile with its direct rays, and thus it was losing the heat stored +up in its walls by degrees. This heat was rapidly evaporating into +space by radiation, and a considerably lower temperature was the +result. The humidity of the interior was changed into ice upon contact +with the glass, preventing all observation. + +Nicholl consulted the thermometer, and saw that it had fallen to +seventeen degrees (Centigrade) below zero.[3] So that, in spite of the +many reasons for economizing, Barbicane, after having begged light from +the gas, was also obliged to beg for heat. The projectile’s low +temperature was no longer endurable. Its tenants would have been frozen +to death. + + [3] 1° Fahrenheit. + + +“Well!” observed Michel, “we cannot reasonably complain of the monotony +of our journey! What variety we have had, at least in temperature. Now +we are blinded with light and saturated with heat, like the Indians of +the Pampas! now plunged into profound darkness, amid the cold, like the +Esquimaux of the north pole. No, indeed! we have no right to complain; +nature does wonders in our honor.” + +“But,” asked Nicholl, “what is the temperature outside?” + +“Exactly that of the planetary space,” replied Barbicane. + +“Then,” continued Michel Ardan, “would not this be the time to make the +experiment which we dared not attempt when we were drowned in the sun’s +rays? + +“It is now or never,” replied Barbicane, “for we are in a good position +to verify the temperature of space, and see if Fourier or Pouillet’s +calculations are exact.” + +“In any case it is cold,” said Michel. “See! the steam of the interior +is condensing on the glasses of the scuttles. If the fall continues, +the vapor of our breath will fall in snow around us.” + +“Let us prepare a thermometer,” said Barbicane. + +We may imagine that an ordinary thermometer would afford no result +under the circumstances in which this instrument was to be exposed. The +mercury would have been frozen in its ball, as below 42° Fahrenheit +below zero it is no longer liquid. But Barbicane had furnished himself +with a spirit thermometer on Wafferdin’s system, which gives the minima +of excessively low temperatures. + +Before beginning the experiment, this instrument was compared with an +ordinary one, and then Barbicane prepared to use it. + +“How shall we set about it?” asked Nicholl. + +“Nothing is easier,” replied Michel Ardan, who was never at a loss. “We +open the scuttle rapidly; throw out the instrument; it follows the +projectile with exemplary docility; and a quarter of an hour after, +draw it in.” + +“With the hand?” asked Barbicane. + +“With the hand,” replied Michel. + +“Well, then, my friend, do not expose yourself,” answered Barbicane, +“for the hand that you draw in again will be nothing but a stump frozen +and deformed by the frightful cold.” + +“Really!” + +“You will feel as if you had had a terrible burn, like that of iron at +a white heat; for whether the heat leaves our bodies briskly or enters +briskly, it is exactly the same thing. Besides, I am not at all certain +that the objects we have thrown out are still following us.” + +“Why not?” asked Nicholl. + +“Because, if we are passing through an atmosphere of the slightest +density, these objects will be retarded. Again, the darkness prevents +our seeing if they still float around us. But in order not to expose +ourselves to the loss of our thermometer, we will fasten it, and we can +then more easily pull it back again.” + +Barbicane’s advice was followed. Through the scuttle rapidly opened, +Nicholl threw out the instrument, which was held by a short cord, so +that it might be more easily drawn up. The scuttle had not been opened +more than a second, but that second had sufficed to let in a most +intense cold. + +“The devil!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, “it is cold enough to freeze a +white bear.” + +Barbicane waited until half an hour had elapsed, which was more than +time enough to allow the instrument to fall to the level of the +surrounding temperature. Then it was rapidly pulled in. + +Barbicane calculated the quantity of spirits of wine overflowed into +the little vial soldered to the lower part of the instrument, and said: + +“A hundred and forty degrees Centigrade[4] below zero!” + + [4] 218 degrees Fahrenheit below zero. + + +M. Pouillet was right and Fourier wrong. That was the undoubted +temperature of the starry space. Such is, perhaps, that of the lunar +continents, when the orb of night has lost by radiation all the heat +which fifteen days of sun have poured into her. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +HYPERBOLA OR PARABOLA + + +We may, perhaps, be astonished to find Barbicane and his companions so +little occupied with the future reserved for them in their metal prison +which was bearing them through the infinity of space. Instead of asking +where they were going, they passed their time making experiments, as if +they had been quietly installed in their own study. + +We might answer that men so strong-minded were above such +anxieties—that they did not trouble themselves about such trifles—and +that they had something else to do than to occupy their minds with the +future. + +The truth was that they were not masters of their projectile; they +could neither check its course, nor alter its direction. + +A sailor can change the head of his ship as he pleases; an aeronaut can +give a vertical motion to his balloon. They, on the contrary, had no +power over their vehicle. Every maneuver was forbidden. Hence the +inclination to let things alone, or as the sailors say, “let her run.” + +Where did they find themselves at this moment, at eight o’clock in the +morning of the day called upon the earth the 6th of December? Very +certainly in the neighborhood of the moon, and even near enough for her +to look to them like an enormous black screen upon the firmament. As to +the distance which separated them, it was impossible to estimate it. +The projectile, held by some unaccountable force, had been within four +miles of grazing the satellite’s north pole. + +But since entering the cone of shadow these last two hours, had the +distance increased or diminished? Every point of mark was wanting by +which to estimate both the direction and the speed of the projectile. + +Perhaps it was rapidly leaving the disc, so that it would soon quit the +pure shadow. Perhaps, again, on the other hand, it might be nearing it +so much that in a short time it might strike some high point on the +invisible hemisphere, which would doubtlessly have ended the journey +much to the detriment of the travelers. + +A discussion arose on this subject, and Michel Ardan, always ready with +an explanation, gave it as his opinion that the projectile, held by the +lunar attraction, would end by falling on the surface of the +terrestrial globe like an aerolite. + +“First of all, my friend,” answered Barbicane, “every aerolite does not +fall to the earth; it is only a small proportion which do so; and if we +had passed into an aerolite, it does not necessarily follow that we +should ever reach the surface of the moon.” + +“But how if we get near enough?” replied Michel. + +“Pure mistake,” replied Barbicane. “Have you not seen shooting stars +rush through the sky by thousands at certain seasons?” + +“Yes.” + +“Well, these stars, or rather corpuscles, only shine when they are +heated by gliding over the atmospheric layers. Now, if they enter the +atmosphere, they pass at least within forty miles of the earth, but +they seldom fall upon it. The same with our projectile. It may approach +very near to the moon, and not yet fall upon it.” + +“But then,” asked Michel, “I shall be curious to know how our erring +vehicle will act in space?” + +“I see but two hypotheses,” replied Barbicane, after some moments’ +reflection. + +“What are they?” + +“The projectile has the choice between two mathematical curves, and it +will follow one or the other according to the speed with which it is +animated, and which at this moment I cannot estimate.” + +“Yes,” said Nicholl, “it will follow either a parabola or a hyperbola.” + +“Just so,” replied Barbicane. “With a certain speed it will assume the +parabola, and with a greater the hyperbola.” + +“I like those grand words,” exclaimed Michel Ardan; “one knows directly +what they mean. And pray what is your parabola, if you please?” + +“My friend,” answered the captain, “the parabola is a curve of the +second order, the result of the section of a cone intersected by a +plane parallel to one of the sides.” + +“Ah! ah!” said Michel, in a satisfied tone. + +“It is very nearly,” continued Nicholl, “the course described by a bomb +launched from a mortar.” + +“Perfect! And the hyperbola?” + +“The hyperbola, Michel, is a curve of the second order, produced by the +intersection of a conic surface and a plane parallel to its axis, and +constitutes two branches separated one from the other, both tending +indefinitely in the two directions.” + +“Is it possible!” exclaimed Michel Ardan in a serious tone, as if they +had told him of some serious event. “What I particularly like in your +definition of the hyperbola (I was going to say hyperblague) is that it +is still more obscure than the word you pretend to define.” + +Nicholl and Barbicane cared little for Michel Ardan’s fun. They were +deep in a scientific discussion. What curve would the projectile +follow? was their hobby. One maintained the hyperbola, the other the +parabola. They gave each other reasons bristling with _x_. Their +arguments were couched in language which made Michel jump. The +discussion was hot, and neither would give up his chosen curve to his +adversary. + +This scientific dispute lasted so long that it made Michel very +impatient. + +“Now, gentlemen cosines, will you cease to throw parabolas and +hyperbolas at each other’s heads? I want to understand the only +interesting question in the whole affair. We shall follow one or the +other of these curves? Good. But where will they lead us to?” + +“Nowhere,” replied Nicholl. + +“How, nowhere?” + +“Evidently,” said Barbicane, “they are open curves, which may be +prolonged indefinitely.” + +“Ah, savants!” cried Michel; “and what are either the one or the other +to us from the moment we know that they equally lead us into infinite +space?” + +Barbicane and Nicholl could not forbear smiling. They had just been +creating “art for art’s sake.” Never had so idle a question been raised +at such an inopportune moment. The sinister truth remained that, +whether hyperbolically or parabolically borne away, the projectile +would never again meet either the earth or the moon. + +What would become of these bold travelers in the immediate future? If +they did not die of hunger, if they did not die of thirst, in some +days, when the gas failed, they would die from want of air, unless the +cold had killed them first. Still, important as it was to economize the +gas, the excessive lowness of the surrounding temperature obliged them +to consume a certain quantity. Strictly speaking, they could do without +its _light_, but not without its _heat_. Fortunately the caloric +generated by Reiset’s and Regnaut’s apparatus raised the temperature of +the interior of the projectile a little, and without much expenditure +they were able to keep it bearable. + +But observations had now become very difficult. the dampness of the +projectile was condensed on the windows and congealed immediately. This +cloudiness had to be dispersed continually. In any case they might hope +to be able to discover some phenomena of the highest interest. + +But up to this time the disc remained dumb and dark. It did not answer +the multiplicity of questions put by these ardent minds; a matter which +drew this reflection from Michel, apparently a just one: + +“If ever we begin this journey over again, we shall do well to choose +the time when the moon is at the full.” + +“Certainly,” said Nicholl, “that circumstance will be more favorable. I +allow that the moon, immersed in the sun’s rays, will not be visible +during the transit, but instead we should see the earth, which would be +full. And what is more, if we were drawn round the moon, as at this +moment, we should at least have the advantage of seeing the invisible +part of her disc magnificently lit.” + +“Well said, Nicholl,” replied Michel Ardan. “What do you think, +Barbicane?” + +“I think this,” answered the grave president: “If ever we begin this +journey again, we shall start at the same time and under the same +conditions. Suppose we had attained our end, would it not have been +better to have found continents in broad daylight than a country +plunged in utter darkness? Would not our first installation have been +made under better circumstances? Yes, evidently. As to the invisible +side, we could have visited it in our exploring expeditions on the +lunar globe. So that the time of the full moon was well chosen. But we +ought to have arrived at the end; and in order to have so arrived, we +ought to have suffered no deviation on the road.” + +“I have nothing to say to that,” answered Michel Ardan. “Here is, +however, a good opportunity lost of observing the other side of the +moon.” + +But the projectile was now describing in the shadow that incalculable +course which no sight-mark would allow them to ascertain. Had its +direction been altered, either by the influence of the lunar +attraction, or by the action of some unknown star? Barbicane could not +say. But a change had taken place in the relative position of the +vehicle; and Barbicane verified it about four in the morning. + +The change consisted in this, that the base of the projectile had +turned toward the moon’s surface, and was so held by a perpendicular +passing through its axis. The attraction, that is to say the weight, +had brought about this alteration. The heaviest part of the projectile +inclined toward the invisible disc as if it would fall upon it. + +Was it falling? Were the travelers attaining that much desired end? No. +And the observation of a sign-point, quite inexplicable in itself, +showed Barbicane that his projectile was not nearing the moon, and that +it had shifted by following an almost concentric curve. + +This point of mark was a luminous brightness, which Nicholl sighted +suddenly, on the limit of the horizon formed by the black disc. This +point could not be confounded with a star. It was a reddish +incandescence which increased by degrees, a decided proof that the +projectile was shifting toward it and not falling normally on the +surface of the moon. + +“A volcano! it is a volcano in action!” cried Nicholl; “a disemboweling +of the interior fires of the moon! That world is not quite +extinguished.” + +“Yes, an eruption,” replied Barbicane, who was carefully studying the +phenomenon through his night glass. “What should it be, if not a +volcano?” + +“But, then,” said Michel Ardan, “in order to maintain that combustion, +there must be air. So the atmosphere does surround that part of the +moon.” + +“Perhaps so,” replied Barbicane, “but not necessarily. + +The volcano, by the decomposition of certain substances, can provide +its own oxygen, and thus throw flames into space. It seems to me that +the deflagration, by the intense brilliancy of the substances in +combustion, is produced in pure oxygen. We must not be in a hurry to +proclaim the existence of a lunar atmosphere.” + +The fiery mountain must have been situated about the 45° south latitude +on the invisible part of the disc; but, to Barbicane’s great +displeasure, the curve which the projectile was describing was taking +it far from the point indicated by the eruption. Thus he could not +determine its nature exactly. Half an hour after being sighted, this +luminous point had disappeared behind the dark horizon; but the +verification of this phenomenon was of considerable consequence in +their selenographic studies. It proved that all heat had not yet +disappeared from the bowels of this globe; and where heat exists, who +can affirm that the vegetable kingdom, nay, even the animal kingdom +itself, has not up to this time resisted all destructive influences? +The existence of this volcano in eruption, unmistakably seen by these +earthly savants, would doubtless give rise to many theories favorable +to the grave question of the habitability of the moon. + +Barbicane allowed himself to be carried away by these reflections. He +forgot himself in a deep reverie in which the mysterious destiny of the +lunar world was uppermost. He was seeking to combine together the facts +observed up to that time, when a new incident recalled him briskly to +reality. This incident was more than a cosmical phenomenon; it was a +threatened danger, the consequence of which might be disastrous in the +extreme. + +Suddenly, in the midst of the ether, in the profound darkness, an +enormous mass appeared. It was like a moon, but an incandescent moon +whose brilliancy was all the more intolerable as it cut sharply on the +frightful darkness of space. This mass, of a circular form, threw a +light which filled the projectile. The forms of Barbicane, Nicholl, and +Michel Ardan, bathed in its white sheets, assumed that livid spectral +appearance which physicians produce with the fictitious light of +alcohol impregnated with salt. + +“By Jove!” cried Michel Ardan, “we are hideous. What is that +ill-conditioned moon?” + +“A meteor,” replied Barbicane. + +“A meteor burning in space?” + +“Yes.” + +This shooting globe suddenly appearing in shadow at a distance of at +most 200 miles, ought, according to Barbicane, to have a diameter of +2,000 yards. It advanced at a speed of about one mile and a half per +second. It cut the projectile’s path and must reach it in some minutes. +As it approached it grew to enormous proportions. + +Imagine, if possible, the situation of the travelers! It is impossible +to describe it. In spite of their courage, their _sang-froid_, their +carelessness of danger, they were mute, motionless with stiffened +limbs, a prey to frightful terror. Their projectile, the course of +which they could not alter, was rushing straight on this ignited mass, +more intense than the open mouth of an oven. It seemed as though they +were being precipitated toward an abyss of fire. + +Barbicane had seized the hands of his two companions, and all three +looked through their half-open eyelids upon that asteroid heated to a +white heat. If thought was not destroyed within them, if their brains +still worked amid all this awe, they must have given themselves up for +lost. + +Two minutes after the sudden appearance of the meteor (to them two +centuries of anguish) the projectile seemed almost about to strike it, +when the globe of fire burst like a bomb, but without making any noise +in that void where sound, which is but the agitation of the layers of +air, could not be generated. + +Nicholl uttered a cry, and he and his companions rushed to the scuttle. +What a sight! What pen can describe it? What palette is rich enough in +colors to reproduce so magnificent a spectacle? + +It was like the opening of a crater, like the scattering of an immense +conflagration. Thousands of luminous fragments lit up and irradiated +space with their fires. Every size, every color, was there +intermingled. There were rays of yellow and pale yellow, red, green, +gray—a crown of fireworks of all colors. Of the enormous and +much-dreaded globe there remained nothing but these fragments carried +in all directions, now become asteroids in their turn, some flaming +like a sword, some surrounded by a whitish cloud, and others leaving +behind them trains of brilliant cosmical dust. + +These incandescent blocks crossed and struck each other, scattering +still smaller fragments, some of which struck the projectile. Its left +scuttle was even cracked by a violent shock. It seemed to be floating +amid a hail of howitzer shells, the smallest of which might destroy it +instantly. + +The light which saturated the ether was so wonderfully intense, that +Michel, drawing Barbicane and Nicholl to his window, exclaimed, “The +invisible moon, visible at last!” + +And through a luminous emanation, which lasted some seconds, the whole +three caught a glimpse of that mysterious disc which the eye of man now +saw for the first time. What could they distinguish at a distance which +they could not estimate? Some lengthened bands along the disc, real +clouds formed in the midst of a very confined atmosphere, from which +emerged not only all the mountains, but also projections of less +importance; its circles, its yawning craters, as capriciously placed as +on the visible surface. Then immense spaces, no longer arid plains, but +real seas, oceans, widely distributed, reflecting on their liquid +surface all the dazzling magic of the fires of space; and, lastly, on +the surface of the continents, large dark masses, looking like immense +forests under the rapid illumination of a brilliance. + +Was it an illusion, a mistake, an optical illusion? Could they give a +scientific assent to an observation so superficially obtained? Dared +they pronounce upon the question of its habitability after so slight a +glimpse of the invisible disc? + +But the lightnings in space subsided by degrees; its accidental +brilliancy died away; the asteroids dispersed in different directions +and were extinguished in the distance. + +The ether returned to its accustomed darkness; the stars, eclipsed for +a moment, again twinkled in the firmament, and the disc, so hastily +discerned, was again buried in impenetrable night. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE + + +The projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, and a very unforseen +one. Who would have thought of such an encounter with meteors? These +erring bodies might create serious perils for the travelers. They were +to them so many sandbanks upon that sea of ether which, less fortunate +than sailors, they could not escape. But did these adventurers complain +of space? No, not since nature had given them the splendid sight of a +cosmical meteor bursting from expansion, since this inimitable +firework, which no Ruggieri could imitate, had lit up for some seconds +the invisible glory of the moon. In that flash, continents, seas, and +forests had become visible to them. Did an atmosphere, then, bring to +this unknown face its life-giving atoms? Questions still insoluble, and +forever closed against human curiousity! + +It was then half-past three in the afternoon. The projectile was +following its curvilinear direction round the moon. Had its course +again been altered by the meteor? It was to be feared so. But the +projectile must describe a curve unalterably determined by the laws of +mechanical reasoning. Barbicane was inclined to believe that this curve +would be rather a parabola than a hyperbola. But admitting the +parabola, the projectile must quickly have passed through the cone of +shadow projected into space opposite the sun. This cone, indeed, is +very narrow, the angular diameter of the moon being so little when +compared with the diameter of the orb of day; and up to this time the +projectile had been floating in this deep shadow. Whatever had been its +speed (and it could not have been insignificant), its period of +occultation continued. That was evident, but perhaps that would not +have been the case in a supposedly rigidly parabolical trajectory—a new +problem which tormented Barbicane’s brain, imprisoned as he was in a +circle of unknowns which he could not unravel. + +Neither of the travelers thought of taking an instant’s repose. Each +one watched for an unexpected fact, which might throw some new light on +their uranographic studies. About five o’clock, Michel Ardan +distributed, under the name of dinner, some pieces of bread and cold +meat, which were quickly swallowed without either of them abandoning +their scuttle, the glass of which was incessantly encrusted by the +condensation of vapor. + +About forty-five minutes past five in the evening, Nicholl, armed with +his glass, sighted toward the southern border of the moon, and in the +direction followed by the projectile, some bright points cut upon the +dark shield of the sky. They looked like a succession of sharp points +lengthened into a tremulous line. They were very bright. Such appeared +the terminal line of the moon when in one of her octants. + +They could not be mistaken. It was no longer a simple meteor. This +luminous ridge had neither color nor motion. Nor was it a volcano in +eruption. And Barbicane did not hesitate to pronounce upon it. + +“The sun!” he exclaimed. + +“What! the sun?” answered Nicholl and Michel Ardan. + +“Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself lighting up the summit +of the mountains situated on the southern borders of the moon. We are +evidently nearing the south pole.” + +“After having passed the north pole,” replied Michel. “We have made the +circuit of our satellite, then?” + +“Yes, my good Michel.” + +“Then, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no more open curves to +fear?” + +“No, but a closed curve.” + +“Which is called—” + +“An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in interplanetary space, it is +probable that the projectile will describe an elliptical orbit around +the moon.” + +“Indeed!” + +“And that it will become _her_ satellite.” + +“Moon of the moon!” cried Michel Ardan. + +“Only, I would have you observe, my worthy friend,” replied Barbicane, +“that we are none the less lost for that.” + +“Yes, in another manner, and much more pleasantly,” answered the +careless Frenchman with his most amiable smile. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +TYCHO + + +At six in the evening the projectile passed the south pole at less than +forty miles off, a distance equal to that already reached at the north +pole. The elliptical curve was being rigidly carried out. + +At this moment the travelers once more entered the blessed rays of the +sun. They saw once more those stars which move slowly from east to +west. The radiant orb was saluted by a triple hurrah. With its light it +also sent heat, which soon pierced the metal walls. The glass resumed +its accustomed appearance. The layers of ice melted as if by +enchantment; and immediately, for economy’s sake, the gas was put out, +the air apparatus alone consuming its usual quantity. + +“Ah!” said Nicholl, “these rays of heat are good. With what impatience +must the Selenites wait the reappearance of the orb of day.” + +“Yes,” replied Michel Ardan, “imbibing as it were the brilliant ether, +light and heat, all life is contained in them.” + +At this moment the bottom of the projectile deviated somewhat from the +lunar surface, in order to follow the slightly lengthened elliptical +orbit. From this point, had the earth been at the full, Barbicane and +his companions could have seen it, but immersed in the sun’s +irradiation she was quite invisible. Another spectacle attracted their +attention, that of the southern part of the moon, brought by the +glasses to within 450 yards. They did not again leave the scuttles, and +noted every detail of this fantastical continent. + +Mounts Doerful and Leibnitz formed two separate groups very near the +south pole. The first group extended from the pole to the eighty-fourth +parallel, on the eastern part of the orb; the second occupied the +eastern border, extending from the 65° of latitude to the pole. + +On their capriciously formed ridge appeared dazzling sheets, as +mentioned by Pere Secchi. With more certainty than the illustrious +Roman astronomer, Barbicane was enabled to recognize their nature. + +“They are snow,” he exclaimed. + +“Snow?” repeated Nicholl. + +“Yes, Nicholl, snow; the surface of which is deeply frozen. See how +they reflect the luminous rays. Cooled lava would never give out such +intense reflection. There must then be water, there must be air on the +moon. As little as you please, but the fact can no longer be +contested.” No, it could not be. And if ever Barbicane should see the +earth again, his notes will bear witness to this great fact in his +selenographic observations. + +These mountains of Doerful and Leibnitz rose in the midst of plains of +a medium extent, which were bounded by an indefinite succession of +circles and annular ramparts. These two chains are the only ones met +with in this region of circles. Comparatively but slightly marked, they +throw up here and there some sharp points, the highest summit of which +attains an altitude of 24,600 feet. + +But the projectile was high above all this landscape, and the +projections disappeared in the intense brilliancy of the disc. And to +the eyes of the travelers there reappeared that original aspect of the +lunar landscapes, raw in tone, without gradation of colors, and without +degrees of shadow, roughly black and white, from the want of diffusion +of light. + +But the sight of this desolate world did not fail to captivate them by +its very strangeness. They were moving over this region as if they had +been borne on the breath of some storm, watching heights defile under +their feet, piercing the cavities with their eyes, going down into the +rifts, climbing the ramparts, sounding these mysterious holes, and +leveling all cracks. But no trace of vegetation, no appearance of +cities; nothing but stratification, beds of lava, overflowings polished +like immense mirrors, reflecting the sun’s rays with overpowering +brilliancy. Nothing belonging to a _living_ world—everything to a dead +world, where avalanches, rolling from the summits of the mountains, +would disperse noiselessly at the bottom of the abyss, retaining the +motion, but wanting the sound. In any case it was the image of death, +without its being possible even to say that life had ever existed +there. + +Michel Ardan, however, thought he recognized a heap of ruins, to which +he drew Barbicane’s attention. It was about the 80th parallel, in 30° +longitude. This heap of stones, rather regularly placed, represented a +vast fortress, overlooking a long rift, which in former days had served +as a bed to the rivers of prehistorical times. Not far from that, rose +to a height of 17,400 feet the annular mountain of Short, equal to the +Asiatic Caucasus. Michel Ardan, with his accustomed ardor, maintained +“the evidences” of his fortress. Beneath it he discerned the dismantled +ramparts of a town; here the still intact arch of a portico, there two +or three columns lying under their base; farther on, a succession of +arches which must have supported the conduit of an aqueduct; in another +part the sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge, run into the thickest +parts of the rift. He distinguished all this, but with so much +imagination in his glance, and through glasses so fantastical, that we +must mistrust his observation. But who could affirm, who would dare to +say, that the amiable fellow did not really see that which his two +companions would not see? + +Moments were too precious to be sacrificed in idle discussion. The +selenite city, whether imaginary or not, had already disappeared afar +off. The distance of the projectile from the lunar disc was on the +increase, and the details of the soil were being lost in a confused +jumble. The reliefs, the circles, the craters, and the plains alone +remained, and still showed their boundary lines distinctly. At this +moment, to the left, lay extended one of the finest circles of lunar +orography, one of the curiosities of this continent. It was Newton, +which Barbicane recognized without trouble, by referring to the _Mappa +Selenographica_. + +Newton is situated in exactly 77° south latitude, and 16° east +longitude. It forms an annular crater, the ramparts of which, rising to +a height of 21,300 feet, seemed to be impassable. + +Barbicane made his companions observe that the height of this mountain +above the surrounding plain was far from equaling the depth of its +crater. This enormous hole was beyond all measurement, and formed a +gloomy abyss, the bottom of which the sun’s rays could never reach. +There, according to Humboldt, reigns utter darkness, which the light of +the sun and the earth cannot break. Mythologists could well have made +it the mouth of hell. + +“Newton,” said Barbicane, “is the most perfect type of these annular +mountains, of which the earth possesses no sample. They prove that the +moon’s formation, by means of cooling, is due to violent causes; for +while, under the pressure of internal fires the reliefs rise to +considerable height, the depths withdraw far below the lunar level.” + +“I do not dispute the fact,” replied Michel Ardan. + +Some minutes after passing Newton, the projectile directly overlooked +the annular mountains of Moret. It skirted at some distance the summits +of Blancanus, and at about half-past seven in the evening reached the +circle of Clavius. + +This circle, one of the most remarkable of the disc, is situated in 58° +south latitude, and 15° east longitude. Its height is estimated at +22,950 feet. The travelers, at a distance of twenty-four miles (reduced +to four by their glasses) could admire this vast crater in its +entirety. + +“Terrestrial volcanoes,” said Barbicane, “are but mole-hills compared +with those of the moon. Measuring the old craters formed by the first +eruptions of Vesuvius and Etna, we find them little more than three +miles in breadth. In France the circle of Cantal measures six miles +across; at Ceyland the circle of the island is forty miles, which is +considered the largest on the globe. What are these diameters against +that of Clavius, which we overlook at this moment?” + +“What is its breadth?” asked Nicholl. + +“It is 150 miles,” replied Barbicane. “This circle is certainly the +most important on the moon, but many others measure 150, 100, or 75 +miles.” + +“Ah! my friends,” exclaimed Michel, “can you picture to yourselves what +this now peaceful orb of night must have been when its craters, filled +with thunderings, vomited at the same time smoke and tongues of flame. +What a wonderful spectacle then, and now what decay! This moon is +nothing more than a thin carcase of fireworks, whose squibs, rockets, +serpents, and suns, after a superb brilliancy, have left but sadly +broken cases. Who can say the cause, the reason, the motive force of +these cataclysms?” + +Barbicane was not listening to Michel Ardan; he was contemplating these +ramparts of Clavius, formed by large mountains spread over several +miles. At the bottom of the immense cavity burrowed hundreds of small +extinguished craters, riddling the soil like a colander, and overlooked +by a peak 15,000 feet high. + +Around the plain appeared desolate. Nothing so arid as these reliefs, +nothing so sad as these ruins of mountains, and (if we may so express +ourselves) these fragments of peaks and mountains which strewed the +soil. The satellite seemed to have burst at this spot. + +The projectile was still advancing, and this movement did not subside. +Circles, craters, and uprooted mountains succeeded each other +incessantly. No more plains; no more seas. A never ending Switzerland +and Norway. And lastly, in the canter of this region of crevasses, the +most splendid mountain on the lunar disc, the dazzling Tycho, in which +posterity will ever preserve the name of the illustrious Danish +astronomer. + +In observing the full moon in a cloudless sky no one has failed to +remark this brilliant point of the southern hemisphere. Michel Ardan +used every metaphor that his imagination could supply to designate it +by. To him this Tycho was a focus of light, a center of irradiation, a +crater vomiting rays. It was the tire of a brilliant wheel, an +_asteria_ enclosing the disc with its silver tentacles, an enormous eye +filled with flames, a glory carved for Pluto’s head, a star launched by +the Creator’s hand, and crushed against the face of the moon! + +Tycho forms such a concentration of light that the inhabitants of the +earth can see it without glasses, though at a distance of 240,000 +miles! Imagine, then, its intensity to the eye of observers placed at a +distance of only fifty miles! Seen through this pure ether, its +brilliancy was so intolerable that Barbicane and his friends were +obliged to blacken their glasses with the gas smoke before they could +bear the splendor. Then silent, scarcely uttering an interjection of +admiration, they gazed, they contemplated. All their feelings, all +their impressions, were concentrated in that look, as under any violent +emotion all life is concentrated at the heart. + +Tycho belongs to the system of radiating mountains, like Aristarchus +and Copernicus; but it is of all the most complete and decided, showing +unquestionably the frightful volcanic action to which the formation of +the moon is due. Tycho is situated in 43° south latitude, and 12° east +longitude. Its center is occupied by a crater fifty miles broad. It +assumes a slightly elliptical form, and is surrounded by an enclosure +of annular ramparts, which on the east and west overlook the outer +plain from a height of 15,000 feet. It is a group of Mont Blancs, +placed round one common center and crowned by radiating beams. + +What this incomparable mountain really is, with all the projections +converging toward it, and the interior excrescences of its crater, +photography itself could never represent. Indeed, it is during the full +moon that Tycho is seen in all its splendor. Then all shadows +disappear, the foreshortening of perspective disappears, and all proofs +become white—a disagreeable fact: for this strange region would have +been marvelous if reproduced with photographic exactness. It is but a +group of hollows, craters, circles, a network of crests; then, as far +as the eye could see, a whole volcanic network cast upon this encrusted +soil. One can then understand that the bubbles of this central eruption +have kept their first form. Crystallized by cooling, they have +stereotyped that aspect which the moon formerly presented when under +the Plutonian forces. + +The distance which separated the travelers from the annular summits of +Tycho was not so great but that they could catch the principal details. +Even on the causeway forming the fortifications of Tycho, the mountains +hanging on to the interior and exterior sloping flanks rose in stories +like gigantic terraces. They appeared to be higher by 300 or 400 feet +to the west than to the east. No system of terrestrial encampment could +equal these natural fortifications. A town built at the bottom of this +circular cavity would have been utterly inaccessible. + +Inaccessible and wonderfully extended over this soil covered with +picturesque projections! Indeed, nature had not left the bottom of this +crater flat and empty. It possessed its own peculiar orography, a +mountainous system, making it a world in itself. The travelers could +distinguish clearly cones, central hills, remarkable positions of the +soil, naturally placed to receive the _chefs-d’œuvre_ of Selenite +architecture. There was marked out the place for a temple, here the +ground of a forum, on this spot the plan of a palace, in another the +plateau for a citadel; the whole overlooked by a central mountain of +1,500 feet. A vast circle, in which ancient Rome could have been held +in its entirety ten times over. + +“Ah!” exclaimed Michel Ardan, enthusiastic at the sight; “what a grand +town might be constructed within that ring of mountains! A quiet city, +a peaceful refuge, beyond all human misery. How calm and isolated those +misanthropes, those haters of humanity might live there, and all who +have a distaste for social life!” + +“All! It would be too small for them,” replied Barbicane simply. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +GRAVE QUESTIONS + + +But the projectile had passed the _enceinte_ of Tycho, and Barbicane +and his two companions watched with scrupulous attention the brilliant +rays which the celebrated mountain shed so curiously over the horizon. + +What was this radiant glory? What geological phenomenon had designed +these ardent beams? This question occupied Barbicane’s mind. + +Under his eyes ran in all directions luminous furrows, raised at the +edges and concave in the center, some twelve miles, others thirty miles +broad. These brilliant trains extended in some places to within 600 +miles of Tycho, and seemed to cover, particularly toward the east, the +northeast and the north, the half of the southern hemisphere. One of +these jets extended as far as the circle of Neander, situated on the +40th meridian. Another, by a slight curve, furrowed the “Sea of +Nectar,” breaking against the chain of Pyrenees, after a circuit of 800 +miles. Others, toward the west, covered the “Sea of Clouds” and the +“Sea of Humors” with a luminous network. What was the origin of these +sparkling rays, which shone on the plains as well as on the reliefs, at +whatever height they might be? All started from a common center, the +crater of Tycho. They sprang from him. Herschel attributed their +brilliancy to currents of lava congealed by the cold; an opinion, +however, which has not been generally adopted. Other astronomers have +seen in these inexplicable rays a kind of moraines, rows of erratic +blocks, which had been thrown up at the period of Tycho’s formation. + +“And why not?” asked Nicholl of Barbicane, who was relating and +rejecting these different opinions. + +“Because the regularity of these luminous lines, and the violence +necessary to carry volcanic matter to such distances, is inexplicable.” + +“Eh! by Jove!” replied Michel Ardan, “it seems easy enough to me to +explain the origin of these rays.” + +“Indeed?” said Barbicane. + +“Indeed,” continued Michel. “It is enough to say that it is a vast +star, similar to that produced by a ball or a stone thrown at a square +of glass!” + +“Well!” replied Barbicane, smiling. “And what hand would be powerful +enough to throw a ball to give such a shock as that?” + +“The hand is not necessary,” answered Nicholl, not at all confounded; +“and as to the stone, let us suppose it to be a comet.” + +“Ah! those much-abused comets!” exclaimed Barbicane. “My brave Michel, +your explanation is not bad; but your comet is useless. The shock which +produced that rent must have some from the inside of the star. A +violent contraction of the lunar crust, while cooling, might suffice to +imprint this gigantic star.” + +“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 travelers, whom such a sight could never weary, admire the +splendors 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 travelers +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. + +“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 alternations 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 honorable 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 and animal, have had their day, and are now forever +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; vapor deposited itself in the shape of clouds; +this natural screen tempered the ardor 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 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 travelers’ +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 toward 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 forever 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 forever 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, and the projectile agrees with me; but let us do all that +is humanly possible to do the fall somewhere, even if only on the +moon.” + +“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 is space, and must no longer consider +specific weight.” + +“Very well,” cried Michel Ardan in a decided voice; “then their remains +but one thing to do.” + +“What is it?” asked 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, observation +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 +splendor amid 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 around 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 toward 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 down-right 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 toward the earth. It is probable that at the point of +equal attraction, its conical cap will be directed rigidly toward 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 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 +everything 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 +travelers 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 traveled 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.” + +“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 bass +supported the captain’s baritone. + +“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 toward 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 travelers 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 forever 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 honorable 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 +_denouement_ 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 toward 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 favor of the travelers. If its speed was utterly annulled on +this dead point, a decided movement toward 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 travelers 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. + +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 amid 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 his 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 results 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 favorable 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 3,508 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 forewheel, who was +superintending the operation. + +The captain and the lieutenant mounted the quarterdeck. + +“What depth have we?” asked the captain. + +“Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fathoms,” replied the +lieutenant, entering it in his notebook. + +“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 Mexico. + +The wind had dropped by degrees. There was no disturbance in the air. +The 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 honorable 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 fervor 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 favorable spot for the +laying of a submarine cable to connect the Hawaiian Islands with the +coast of America. + +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 Oceanica 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 latitude, and 41° 37′ west longitude, 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 toward 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 travelers 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 amid volcanic rubbish, Captain Nicholl +beginning his leveling 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 giant 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 +travelers? 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 toward 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; 1,670 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!” + + + + +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 the meteor was +the projectile of the Gun Club. As to the travelers 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.” + +“Burned!” 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 neighboring coast had no anchorage on 27° latitude. +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 latitude and 41° 37′ west longitude.” + +“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-northeast, 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-pared 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; and the fourth to the sub-director of the Cambridge +Observatory, Massachusetts. + +It was worded as follows: + +In 20° 7′ north latitude, and 41° 37′ west longitude, on the 12th of +December, at seventeen minutes past one in the morning, the projectile +of the Columbiad fell into the Pacific. Send instructions.—BLOMSBERRY, +Commander Susquehanna. + +Five minutes afterward 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 dispatch, 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 dispatch, so decidely 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 travelers; 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 made observation very difficult. The commander +of the Susquehanna and her officers might have made a mistake in all +good faith; one argument however, was in their favor, namely, that if +the projectile had fallen on the earth, its place of meeting with the +terrestrial globe could only take place on this 27° north latitude, and +(taking into consideration the time that had elapsed, and the rotary +motion of the earth) between the 41° and the 42° of west longitude. In +any case, it was decided in the Gun Club that Blomsberry brothers, +Bilsby, and Major Elphinstone should go straight to San Francisco, and +consult as to the means of raising the projectile from the depths of +the ocean. + +These devoted men set off at once; and the railroad, which will soon +cross the whole of Central America, took them as far as St. Louis, +where the swift mail-coaches awaited them. Almost at the same moment in +which the Secretary of Marine, the vice-president of the Gun Club, and +the sub-director of the Observatory received the dispatch from San +Francisco, the Honorable J. T. Maston was undergoing the greatest +excitement he had ever experienced in his life, an excitement which +even the bursting of his pet gun, which had more than once nearly cost +him his life, had not caused him. We may remember that the secretary of +the Gun Club had started soon after the projectile (and almost as +quickly) for the station on Long’s Peak, in the Rocky Mountains, J. +Belfast, director of the Cambridge Observatory, accompanying him. +Arrived there, the two friends had installed themselves at once, never +quitting the summit of their enormous telescope. We know that this +gigantic instrument had been set up according to the reflecting system, +called by the English “front view.” This arrangement subjected all +objects to but one reflection, making the view consequently much +clearer; the result was that, when they were taking observation, J. T. +Maston and Belfast were placed in the _upper_ part of the instrument +and not in the lower, which they reached by a circular staircase, a +masterpiece of lightness, while below them opened a metal well +terminated by the metallic mirror, which measured two hundred and +eighty feet in depth. + +It was on a narrow platform placed above the telescope that the two +savants passed their existence, execrating the day which hid the moon +from their eyes, and the clouds which obstinately veiled her during the +night. + +What, then, was their delight when, after some days of waiting, on the +night of the 5th of December, they saw the vehicle which was bearing +their friends into space! To this delight succeeded a great deception, +when, trusting to a cursory observation, they launched their first +telegram to the world, erroneously affirming that the projectile had +become a satellite of the moon, gravitating in an immutable orbit. + +From that moment it had never shown itself to their eyes—a +disappearance all the more easily explained, as it was then passing +behind the moon’s invisible disc; but when it was time for it to +reappear on the visible disc, one may imagine the impatience of the +fuming J. T. Maston and his not less impatient companion. Each minute +of the night they thought they saw the projectile once more, and they +did not see it. Hence constant discussions and violent disputes between +them, Belfast affirming that the projectile could not be seen, J. T. +Maston maintaining that “it had put his eyes out.” + +“It is the projectile!” repeated J. T. Maston. + +“No,” answered Belfast; “it is an avalanche detached from a lunar +mountain.” + +“Well, we shall see it to-morrow.” + +“No, we shall not see it any more. It is carried into space.” + +“Yes!” + +“No!” + +And at these moments, when contradictions rained like hail, the +well-known irritability of the secretary of the Gun Club constituted a +permanent danger for the Honorable Belfast. The existence of these two +together would soon have become impossible; but an unforseen event cut +short their everlasting discussions. + +During the night, from the 14th to the 15th of December, the two +irreconcilable friends were busy observing the lunar disc, J. T. Maston +abusing the learned Belfast as usual, who was by his side; the +secretary of the Gun Club maintaining for the thousandth time that he +had just seen the projectile, and adding that he could see Michel +Ardan’s face looking through one of the scuttles, at the same time +enforcing his argument by a series of gestures which his formidable +hook rendered very unpleasant. + +At this moment Belfast’s servant appeared on the platform (it was ten +at night) and gave him a dispatch. It was the commander of the +Susquehanna’s telegram. + +Belfast tore the envelope and read, and uttered a cry. + +“What!” said J. T. Maston. + +“The projectile!” + +“Well!” + +“Has fallen to the earth!” + +Another cry, this time a perfect howl, answered him. He turned toward +J. T. Maston. The unfortunate man, imprudently leaning over the metal +tube, had disappeared in the immense telescope. A fall of two hundred +and eighty feet! Belfast, dismayed, rushed to the orifice of the +reflector. + +He breathed. J. T. Maston, caught by his metal hook, was holding on by +one of the rings which bound the telescope together, uttering fearful +cries. + +Belfast called. Help was brought, tackle was let down, and they hoisted +up, not without some trouble, the imprudent secretary of the Gun Club. + +He reappeared at the upper orifice without hurt. + +“Ah!” said he, “if I had broken the mirror?” + +“You would have paid for it,” replied Belfast severely. + +“And that cursed projectile has fallen?” asked J. T. Maston. + +“Into the Pacific!” + +“Let us go!” + +A quarter of an hour after the two savants were descending the +declivity of the Rocky Mountains; and two days after, at the same time +as their friends of the Gun Club, they arrived at San Francisco, having +killed five horses on the road. + +Elphinstone, the brothers Blomsberry, and Bilsby rushed toward them on +their arrival. + +“What shall we do?” they exclaimed. + +“Fish up the projectile,” replied J. T. Maston, “and the sooner the +better.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +RECOVERED FROM THE SEA + + +The spot where the projectile sank under the waves was exactly known; +but the machinery to grasp it and bring it to the surface of the ocean +was still wanting. It must first be invented, then made. American +engineers could not be troubled with such trifles. The grappling-irons +once fixed, by their help they were sure to raise it in spite of its +weight, which was lessened by the density of the liquid in which it was +plunged. + +But fishing-up the projectile was not the only thing to be thought of. +They must act promptly in the interest of the travelers. No one doubted +that they were still living. + +“Yes,” repeated J. T. Maston incessantly, whose confidence gained over +everybody, “our friends are clever people, and they cannot have fallen +like simpletons. They are alive, quite alive; but we must make haste if +we wish to find them so. Food and water do not trouble me; they have +enough for a long while. But air, air, that is what they will soon +want; so quick, quick!” + +And they did go quick. They fitted up the Susquehanna for her new +destination. Her powerful machinery was brought to bear upon the +hauling-chains. The aluminum projectile only weighed 19,250 pounds, a +weight very inferior to that of the transatlantic cable which had been +drawn up under similar conditions. The only difficulty was in fishing +up a cylindro-conical projectile, the walls of which were so smooth as +to offer no hold for the hooks. On that account Engineer Murchison +hastened to San Francisco, and had some enormous grappling-irons fixed +on an automatic system, which would never let the projectile go if it +once succeeded in seizing it in its powerful claws. Diving-dresses were +also prepared, which through this impervious covering allowed the +divers to observe the bottom of the sea. He also had put on board an +apparatus of compressed air very cleverly designed. There were perfect +chambers pierced with scuttles, which, with water let into certain +compartments, could draw it down into great depths. These apparatuses +were at San Francisco, where they had been used in the construction of +a submarine breakwater; and very fortunately it was so, for there was +no time to construct any. But in spite of the perfection of the +machinery, in spite of the ingenuity of the savants entrusted with the +use of them, the success of the operation was far from being certain. +How great were the chances against them, the projectile being 20,000 +feet under the water! And if even it was brought to the surface, how +would the travelers have borne the terrible shock which 20,000 feet of +water had perhaps not sufficiently broken? At any rate they must act +quickly. J. T. Maston hurried the workmen day and night. He was ready +to don the diving-dress himself, or try the air apparatus, in order to +reconnoiter the situation of his courageous friends. + +But in spite of all the diligence displayed in preparing the different +engines, in spite of the considerable sum placed at the disposal of the +Gun Club by the Government of the Union, five long days (five +centuries!) elapsed before the preparations were complete. During this +time public opinion was excited to the highest pitch. Telegrams were +exchanged incessantly throughout the entire world by means of wires and +electric cables. The saving of Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel Ardan was +an international affair. Every one who had subscribed to the Gun Club +was directly interested in the welfare of the travelers. + +At length the hauling-chains, the air-chambers, and the automatic +grappling-irons were put on board. J. T. Maston, Engineer Murchison, +and the delegates of the Gun Club, were already in their cabins. They +had but to start, which they did on the 21st of December, at eight +o’clock at night, the corvette meeting with a beautiful sea, a +northeasterly wind, and rather sharp cold. The whole population of San +Francisco was gathered on the quay, greatly excited but silent, +reserving their hurrahs for the return. Steam was fully up, and the +screw of the Susquehanna carried them briskly out of the bay. + +It is needless to relate the conversations on board between the +officers, sailors, and passengers. All these men had but one thought. +All these hearts beat under the same emotion. While they were hastening +to help them, what were Barbicane and his companions doing? What had +become of them? Were they able to attempt any bold maneuver to regain +their liberty? None could say. The truth is that every attempt must +have failed! Immersed nearly four miles under the ocean, this metal +prison defied every effort of its prisoners. + +On the 23rd inst., at eight in the morning, after a rapid passage, the +Susquehanna was due at the fatal spot. They must wait till twelve to +take the reckoning exactly. The buoy to which the sounding line had +been lashed had not yet been recognized. + +At twelve, Captain Blomsberry, assisted by his officers who +superintended the observations, took the reckoning in the presence of +the delegates of the Gun Club. Then there was a moment of anxiety. Her +position decided, the Susquehanna was found to be some minutes westward +of the spot where the projectile had disappeared beneath the waves. + +The ship’s course was then changed so as to reach this exact point. + +At forty-seven minutes past twelve they reached the buoy; it was in +perfect condition, and must have shifted but little. + +“At last!” exclaimed J. T. Maston. + +“Shall we begin?” asked Captain Blomsberry. + +“Without losing a second.” + +Every precaution was taken to keep the corvette almost completely +motionless. Before trying to seize the projectile, Engineer Murchison +wanted to find its exact position at the bottom of the ocean. The +submarine apparatus destined for this expedition was supplied with air. +The working of these engines was not without danger, for at 20,000 feet +below the surface of the water, and under such great pressure, they +were exposed to fracture, the consequences of which would be dreadful. + +J. T. Maston, the brothers Blomsberry, and Engineer Murchison, without +heeding these dangers, took their places in the air-chamber. The +commander, posted on his bridge, superintended the operation, ready to +stop or haul in the chains on the slightest signal. The screw had been +shipped, and the whole power of the machinery collected on the capstan +would have quickly drawn the apparatus on board. The descent began at +twenty-five minutes past one at night, and the chamber, drawn under by +the reservoirs full of water, disappeared from the surface of the +ocean. + +The emotion of the officers and sailors on board was now divided +between the prisoners in the projectile and the prisoners in the +submarine apparatus. As to the latter, they forgot themselves, and, +glued to the windows of the scuttles, attentively watched the liquid +mass through which they were passing. + +The descent was rapid. At seventeen minutes past two, J. T. Maston and +his companions had reached the bottom of the Pacific; but they saw +nothing but an arid desert, no longer animated by either fauna or +flora. By the light of their lamps, furnished with powerful reflectors, +they could see the dark beds of the ocean for a considerable extent of +view, but the projectile was nowhere to be seen. + +The impatience of these bold divers cannot be described, and having an +electrical communication with the corvette, they made a signal already +agreed upon, and for the space of a mile the Susquehanna moved their +chamber along some yards above the bottom. + +Thus they explored the whole submarine plain, deceived at every turn by +optical illusions which almost broke their hearts. Here a rock, there a +projection from the ground, seemed to be the much-sought-for +projectile; but their mistake was soon discovered, and then they were +in despair. + +“But where are they? where are they?” cried J. T. Maston. And the poor +man called loudly upon Nicholl, Barbicane, and Michel Ardan, as if his +unfortunate friends could either hear or answer him through such an +impenetrable medium! The search continued under these conditions until +the vitiated air compelled the divers to ascend. + +The hauling in began about six in the evening, and was not ended before +midnight. + +“To-morrow,” said J. T. Maston, as he set foot on the bridge of the +corvette. + +“Yes,” answered Captain Blomsberry. + +“And on another spot?” + +“Yes.” + +J. T. Maston did not doubt of their final success, but his companions, +no longer upheld by the excitement of the first hours, understood all +the difficulty of the enterprise. What seemed easy at San Francisco, +seemed here in the wide ocean almost impossible. The chances of success +diminished in rapid proportion; and it was from chance alone that the +meeting with the projectile might be expected. + +The next day, the 24th, in spite of the fatigue of the previous day, +the operation was renewed. The corvette advanced some minutes to +westward, and the apparatus, provided with air, bore the same explorers +to the depths of the ocean. + +The whole day passed in fruitless research; the bed of the sea was a +desert. The 25th brought no other result, nor the 26th. + +It was disheartening. They thought of those unfortunates shut up in the +projectile for twenty-six days. Perhaps at that moment they were +experiencing the first approach of suffocation; that is, if they had +escaped the dangers of their fall. The air was spent, and doubtless +with the air all their _morale_. + +“The air, possibly,” answered J. T. Maston resolutely, “but their +_morale_ never!” + +On the 28th, after two more days of search, all hope was gone. This +projectile was but an atom in the immensity of the ocean. They must +give up all idea of finding it. + +But J. T. Maston would not hear of going away. He would not abandon the +place without at least discovering the tomb of his friends. But +Commander Blomsberry could no longer persist, and in spite of the +exclamations of the worthy secretary, was obliged to give the order to +sail. + +On the 29th of December, at nine A.M., the Susquehanna, heading +northeast, resumed her course to the bay of San Francisco. + +It was ten in the morning; the corvette was under half-steam, as it was +regretting to leave the spot where the catastrophe had taken place, +when a sailor, perched on the main-top-gallant crosstrees, watching the +sea, cried suddenly: + +“A buoy on the lee bow!” + +The officers looked in the direction indicated, and by the help of +their glasses saw that the object signalled had the appearance of one +of those buoys which are used to mark the passages of bays or rivers. +But, singularly to say, a flag floating on the wind surmounted its +cone, which emerged five or six feet out of water. This buoy shone +under the rays of the sun as if it had been made of plates of silver. +Commander Blomsberry, J. T. Maston, and the delegates of the Gun Club +were mounted on the bridge, examining this object straying at random on +the waves. + +All looked with feverish anxiety, but in silence. None dared give +expression to the thoughts which came to the minds of all. + +The corvette approached to within two cables’ lengths of the object. + +A shudder ran through the whole crew. That flag was the American flag! + +At this moment a perfect howling was heard; it was the brave J. T. +Maston who had just fallen all in a heap. Forgetting on the one hand +that his right arm had been replaced by an iron hook, and on the other +that a simple gutta-percha cap covered his brain-box, he had given +himself a formidable blow. + +They hurried toward him, picked him up, restored him to life. And what +were his first words? + +“Ah! trebly brutes! quadruply idiots! quintuply boobies that we are!” + +“What is it?” exclaimed everyone around him. + +“What is it?” + +“Come, speak!” + +“It is, simpletons,” howled the terrible secretary, “it is that the +projectile only weighs 19,250 pounds!” + +“Well?” + +“And that it displaces twenty-eight tons, or in other words 56,000 +pounds, and that consequently _it floats_!” + +Ah! what stress the worthy man had laid on the verb “float!” And it was +true! All, yes! all these savants had forgotten this fundamental law, +namely, that on account of its specific lightness, the projectile, +after having been drawn by its fall to the greatest depths of the +ocean, must naturally return to the surface. And now it was floating +quietly at the mercy of the waves. + +The boats were put to sea. J. T. Maston and his friends had rushed into +them! Excitement was at its height! Every heart beat loudly while they +advanced to the projectile. What did it contain? Living or dead? + +Living, yes! living, at least unless death had struck Barbicane and his +two friends since they had hoisted the flag. Profound silence reigned +on the boats. All were breathless. Eyes no longer saw. One of the +scuttles of the projectile was open. Some pieces of glass remained in +the frame, showing that it had been broken. This scuttle was actually +five feet above the water. + +A boat came alongside, that of J. T. Maston, and J. T. Maston rushed to +the broken window. + +At that moment they heard a clear and merry voice, the voice of Michel +Ardan, exclaiming in an accent of triumph: + +“White all, Barbicane, white all!” + +Barbicane, Michel Ardan, and Nicholl were playing at dominoes! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +THE END + + +We may remember the intense sympathy which had accompanied the +travelers on their departure. If at the beginning of the enterprise +they had excited such emotion both in the old and new world, with what +enthusiasm would they be received on their return! The millions of +spectators which had beset the peninsula of Florida, would they not +rush to meet these sublime adventurers? Those legions of strangers, +hurrying from all parts of the globe toward the American shores, would +they leave the Union without having seen Barbicane, Nicholl, and Michel +Ardan? No! and the ardent passion of the public was bound to respond +worthily to the greatness of the enterprise. Human creatures who had +left the terrestrial sphere, and returned after this strange voyage +into celestial space, could not fail to be received as the prophet +Elias would be if he came back to earth. To see them first, and then to +hear them, such was the universal longing. + +Barbicane, Michel Ardan, Nicholl, and the delegates of the Gun Club, +returning without delay to Baltimore, were received with indescribable +enthusiasm. The notes of President Barbicane’s voyage were ready to be +given to the public. The New York _Herald_ bought the manuscript at a +price not yet known, but which must have been very high. Indeed, during +the publication of “A Journey to the Moon,” the sale of this paper +amounted to five millions of copies. Three days after the return of the +travelers to the earth, the slightest detail of their expedition was +known. There remained nothing more but to see the heroes of this +superhuman enterprise. + +The expedition of Barbicane and his friends round the moon had enabled +them to correct the many admitted theories regarding the terrestrial +satellite. These savants had observed _de visu_, and under particular +circumstances. They knew what systems should be rejected, what retained +with regard to the formation of that orb, its origin, its habitability. +Its past, present, and future had even given up their last secrets. Who +could advance objections against conscientious observers, who at less +than twenty-four miles distance had marked that curious mountain of +Tycho, the strangest system of lunar orography? How answer those +savants whose sight had penetrated the abyss of Pluto’s circle? How +contradict those bold ones whom the chances of their enterprise had +borne over that invisible face of the disc, which no human eye until +then had ever seen? It was now their turn to impose some limit on that +selenographic science, which had reconstructed the lunar world as +Cuvier did the skeleton of a fossil, and say, “The moon _was_ this, a +habitable world, inhabited before the earth. The moon _is_ that, a +world uninhabitable, and now uninhabited.” + +To celebrate the return of its most illustrious member and his two +companions, the Gun Club decided upon giving a banquet, but a banquet +worthy of the conquerors, worthy of the American people, and under such +conditions that all the inhabitants of the Union could directly take +part in it. + +All the head lines of railroads in the States were joined by flying +rails; and on all the platforms, lined with the same flags, and +decorated with the same ornaments, were tables laid and all served +alike. At certain hours, successively calculated, marked by electric +clocks which beat the seconds at the same time, the population were +invited to take their places at the banquet tables. For four days, from +the 5th to the 9th of January, the trains were stopped as they are on +Sundays on the railways of the United States, and every road was open. +One engine only at full speed, drawing a triumphal carriage, had the +right of traveling for those four days on the railroads of the United +States. + +The engine was manned by a driver and a stoker, and bore, by special +favor, the Hon. J. T. Maston, secretary of the Gun Club. The carriage +was reserved for President Barbicane, Colonel Nicholl, and Michel +Ardan. At the whistle of the driver, amid the hurrahs, and all the +admiring vociferations of the American language, the train left the +platform of Baltimore. It traveled at a speed of one hundred and sixty +miles in the hour. But what was this speed compared with that which had +carried the three heroes from the mouth of the Columbiad? + +Thus they sped from one town to the other, finding whole populations at +table on their road, saluting them with the same acclamations, +lavishing the same bravos! They traveled in this way through the east +of the Union, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, +and New Hampshire; the north and west by New York, Ohio, Michigan, and +Wisconsin; returning to the south by Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, +Texas, and Louisiana; they went to the southeast by Alabama and +Florida, going up by Georgia and the Carolinas, visiting the center by +Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and Indiana, and, after quitting the +Washington station, re-entered Baltimore, where for four days one would +have thought that the United States of America were seated at one +immense banquet, saluting them simultaneously with the same hurrahs! +The apotheosis was worthy of these three heroes whom fable would have +placed in the rank of demigods. + +And now will this attempt, unprecedented in the annals of travels, lead +to any practical result? Will direct communication with the moon ever +be established? Will they ever lay the foundation of a traveling +service through the solar world? Will they go from one planet to +another, from Jupiter to Mercury, and after awhile from one star to +another, from the Polar to Sirius? Will this means of locomotion allow +us to visit those suns which swarm in the firmament? + +To such questions no answer can be given. But knowing the bold +ingenuity of the Anglo-Saxon race, no one would be astonished if the +Americans seek to make some use of President Barbicane’s attempt. + +Thus, some time after the return of the travelers, the public received +with marked favor the announcement of a company, limited, with a +capital of a hundred million of dollars, divided into a hundred +thousand shares of a thousand dollars each, under the name of the +“National Company of Interstellary Communication.” President, +Barbicane; vice-president, Captain Nicholl; secretary, J. T. Maston; +director of movements, Michel Ardan. + +And as it is part of the American temperament to foresee everything in +business, even failure, the Honorable Harry Trolloppe, judge +commissioner, and Francis Drayton, magistrate, were nominated +beforehand! + +THE END. + + + + +******* Notes: Jules Verne’s “From the Earth to the Moon” and “A Trip +Around It” + +I originally intended to “correct” some of the numbers in the book. For +example, page 207 has “thirteenth” where “thirtieth” would be more +appropriate. Some of the densities and volumes and masses don’t match +up. The business with the wrong exhaust velocity of the gun is also a +bit confusing. The dates and times aren’t quite consistent throughout, +although they are close enough that Verne must have been working from a +time-line. For example, I think he has the time for the fall back to +earth exactly matching the time for the trip out. There are also +inconsistent spellings, for example “aluminum” and “aluminium”. Some of +these annoyed me, in the sense of disturbing my reading; since the +reader is reading for pleasure, the annoyance should be removed. + +All cases of the British? spelling of aluminium have been changed to +the American spelling aluminum. + +I decided that the correction project was going to be a lot of trouble, +and might be a perversion of the original work. I concentrated instead +on producing an accurate rendition of the text. However, if a French +speaker can find a French edition, it might be nice to see if the +translators introduced errors. The measurements seem to have been +converted from metric without regard for significant figures. +Occasional conversions are simply omitted, with “feet” inserted for +“meters” without fixing the numbers. These might be safely recomputed +without doing violence to the spirit of the original work. Whether one +should standardize the spelling of “aluminium” I don’t know. +“Aluminium” has a certain charm. I don’t know what American or English +usage was at the time. We might consider converting all the +temperatures to Fahrenheit. I suggest removing the page numbers, +undoing all the hyphenation, and repackaging the lines at a length of +(up to) 72 characters, with only occasional word breaks. + +Page #s and a full reformating has been done. Line widow/orphans have +been painstakingly removed. Hypenated words at the end of lines have +been eliminated to the best of my judgement. + +I think a table of units should be offered for the reader. +myriameter = 10 km +fathom = 6 feet; league ~ 3 miles, but don’t know French usage in 1865. +page 125 has perigee 86,410 leagues (French), or 238,833 miles +Would be nice to know the currency conversions of the day. + +We may criticize Verne for his errors, but the remarkable thing is how +much he got right! I think this was the first engineering proposal for +space travel, using physics instead of magic. Verne deserves much of +the credit for inspiring the early rocket pioneers, and ultimately +today’s space program. As “literary” history, I note that Heinlein’s +“The Man Who Sold the Moon” borrows from it. + +add conversion table for units. fathom, league, meter, mile, foot, C/F +contact publisher for translator information +is perihelium {sic} a real word? maybe substitute perihelion? + +I have changed the one case of perihelium to the correct perihelion. + +There’s an incorrect reference to Nov. 30 in the early part of book 2 +to fix [I read it over and left it there. Close enough for fiction, but +I am sure they would have missed the moon by a lot.] + +Dates were not fixed. + +inconsistent spelling of Palliser, Palisser + +This only occurs twice in the book, so both are left in. + +pyroxyle sometimes with xile + +‘yle’ ending was accepted by undisputed “majority rule” + +aluminum and aluminium + +The former accepted. + +maybe 18000 instead of 17000 yards/sec? +30th degree of lunar latitude instead of 13th? +there seems to be an inconsistency in the title for book 2 + +Numbers, units, dates, times and math errors have NOT been changed. + +Typographic conventions in the book: +The book uses ligatures for ff fi fl ffi ffl; I have simply spelled +these out. +Chapter N is in italics. +The chapter titles are in small caps. +The first word of each chapter has an oversize capital, and the rest of +the word is in small caps. If the first word is two letters or less, +the second word is also in small caps. +AM and PM are always in small caps, as A.M. or P.M. + +All these have been changed to PG standards. + +My typographic conventions: +There are a few lines longer than 80 character, usually because I have +inserted a {sic phrase} in the line. I am using % as a line-break +character in these cases; the % and the following new-line should be +deleted. {correction} I have indicated some candidates for correction +in braces. + +All these were appreciated! and either corrected or ignored. + +_italics_ are marked with underbars + +These are left in for the next proofer to turn into CAPS for PG. + +#SMALL CAPS# are enclosed in hash-marks +# +$ae $’e dollar-sign preceeds ligatures and accented characters. +The accent follows the $ and precedes the letter. I’ve tried to get ’ +and ‘ (as accents) right. +I have used : as an accent marker for umlaut. + +All are removed. + +I’ve used ‘ and ’ to enclose (recursive) quotes. Ascii has no provision +for distinguishable open and close doublequotes. +The book uses ligatures for ff fi fl ffi ffl; I have simply spelled +these out. +L for British Pound. + +All these conventions (except the circumflex) have been accepted. + +bold indicates a different typeface + +Removed (only one case) and probably a printers error? + +δ indicates a non-ascii character, here the greek letter delta left in. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON *** + +***** This file should be named 83-0.txt or 83-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/8/83/ + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that: + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/src/main.rs b/src/main.rs index 744332f..9300557 100644 --- a/src/main.rs +++ b/src/main.rs @@ -1,16 +1,48 @@ +use std::fs; +use std::env; use std::collections::HashMap; fn main() { - let mut mission_flown = HashMap::new(); - mission_flown.insert("Hadfield",3); - mission_flown.insert("Hurley", 3); - mission_flown.insert("Barron", 0); - mission_flown.insert("Barron", 1); - mission_flown.entry("Sodi").or_insert(2); - let kyla = mission_flown.entry("Barron").or_insert(0); - *kyla+=1; - println!("mission_flown is {:?}", mission_flown); + // read file amd build vector of individual words + let content = match env::args().nth(1){ + Some(f)=>match fs::read_to_string(f){ + Ok(s)=>s.to_lowercase(), + Err(e)=>{ + eprintln!("could NOT read file : {}",e); + std::process::exit(1); + } + }, + None=>{ + eprintln!("programge require an argument: "); + std::process::exit(2); + } + }; + + let all_words = content.split_whitespace().collect::>(); - let barron_mission = mission_flown.get("Barron"); - println!("barron_mission is {:?}",barron_mission); + // count how many times each unique word occurs + let mut word_counts:HashMap<&str,u32> = HashMap::new(); + for word in all_words.iter() { + *word_counts.entry(word).or_insert(0)+=1; + } + + // determine the most commonly used word(s) + let mut top_count =0u32; + let mut top_words:Vec<&str> = Vec::new(); + + for(&key,&val) in word_counts.iter(){ + if val > top_count{ + top_count = val; + top_words.clear(); + top_words.push(key); + }else if val == top_count{ + top_words.push(key); + } + } + + // display result + println!("Top word(s) occurred {} times :",top_count); + for word in top_words.iter() { + println!("{}",word); + } }