by Jules Verne
CHAPTER IV. A REVISED CALENDAR
All previous hypotheses, then, were now forgotten in the presence of theone great fact that Gallia was a comet and gravitating through remotesolar regions. Captain Servadac became aware that the huge disc thathad been looming through the clouds after the shock was the form of theretreating earth, to the proximity of which the one high tide they hadexperienced was also to be attributed.
As to the fulfillment of the professor's prediction of an ultimatereturn to the terrestrial sphere, that was a point on which it mustbe owned that the captain, after the first flush of his excitement wasover, was not without many misgivings.
The next day or two were spent in providing for the accommodation of thenew comer. Fortunately his desires were very moderate; he seemed to liveamong the stars, and as long as he was well provided with coffee, hecared little for luxuries, and paid little or no regard to the ingenuitywith which all the internal arrangements of Nina's Hive had beendevised. Anxious to show all proper respect to his former tutor,Servadac proposed to leave the most comfortable apartment of the placeat his disposal; but the professor resolutely declined to occupy it,saying that what he required was a small chamber, no matter how small,provided that it was elevated and secluded, which he could use asan observatory and where he might prosecute his studies withoutdisturbance. A general search was instituted, and before long they werelucky enough to find, about a hundred feet above the central grotto, asmall recess or reduct hollowed, as it were, in the mountain side, whichwould exactly answer their purpose. It contained room enough for a bed,a table, an arm-chair, a chest of drawers, and, what was of still moreconsequence, for the indispensable telescope. One small stream oflava, an off-shoot of the great torrent, sufficed to warm the apartmentenough.
In these retired quarters the astronomer took up his abode. It was onall hands acknowledged to be advisable to let him go on entirely in hisown way. His meals were taken to him at stated intervals; he slept butlittle; carried on his calculations by day, his observations by night,and very rarely made his appearance amongst the rest of the littlecommunity.
The cold now became very intense, the thermometer registering 30 degreesF. below zero. The mercury, however, never exhibited any of thosefluctuations that are ever and again to be observed in variableclimates, but continued slowly and steadily to fall, and in allprobability would continue to do so until it reached the normaltemperature of the regions of outlying space.
This steady sinking of the mercury was accompanied by a completestillness of the atmosphere; the very air seemed to be congealed; noparticle of it stirred; from zenith to horizon there was never a cloud;neither were there any of the damp mists or dry fogs which so oftenextend over the polar regions of the earth; the sky was always clear;the sun shone by day and the stars by night without causing anyperceptible difference in the temperature.
These peculiar conditions rendered the cold endurable even in the openair. The cause of so many of the diseases that prove fatal to Arcticexplorers resides in the cutting winds, unwholesome fogs, or terriblesnow drifts, which, by drying up, relaxing, or otherwise affecting thelungs, make them incapable of fulfilling their proper functions. Butduring periods of calm weather, when the air has been absolutely still,many polar navigators, well-clothed and properly fed, have been knownto withstand a temperature when the thermometer has fallen to 60 degreesbelow zero. It was the experience of Parry upon Melville Island, ofKane beyond latitude 81 degrees north, and of Hall and the crew of the_Polaris_, that, however intense the cold, in the absence of the windthey could always brave its rigor.
Notwithstanding, then, the extreme lowness of the temperature, thelittle population found that they were able to move about in the openair with perfect immunity. The governor general made it his special careto see that his people were all well fed and warmly clad. Food wasboth wholesome and abundant, and besides the furs brought from the_Dobryna's_ stores, fresh skins could very easily be procured andmade up into wearing apparel. A daily course of out-door exercise wasenforced upon everyone; not even Pablo and Nina were exempted from thegeneral rule; the two children, muffled up in furs, looking like littleEsquimeaux, skated along together, Pablo ever at his companion'sside, ready to give her a helping hand whenever she was weary with herexertions.
After his interview with the newly arrived astronomer, Isaac Hakkabutslunk back again to his tartan. A change had come over his ideas; hecould no longer resist the conviction that he was indeed millions andmillions of miles away from the earth, where he had carried on so variedand remunerative a traffic. It might be imagined that this realizationof his true position would have led him to a better mind, and that,in some degree at least, he would have been induced to regard the fewfellow-creatures with whom his lot had been so strangely cast, otherwisethan as mere instruments to be turned to his own personal and pecuniaryadvantage; but no--the desire of gain was too thoroughly ingrained intohis hard nature ever to be eradicated, and secure in his knowledge thathe was under the protection of a French officer, who, except under themost urgent necessity, would not permit him to be molested in retaininghis property, he determined to wait for some emergency to arise whichshould enable him to use his present situation for his own profit.
On the one hand, the Jew took it into account that although the chancesof returning to the earth might be remote, yet from what he had heardfrom the professor he could not believe that they were improbable; onthe other, he knew that a considerable sum of money, in English andRussian coinage, was in the possession of various members of the littlecolony, and this, although valueless now, would be worth as much as everif the proper condition of things should be restored; accordingly, heset his heart on getting all the monetary wealth of Gallia into hispossession, and to do this he must sell his goods. But he would notsell them yet; there might come a time when for many articles the supplywould not be equal to the demand; that would be the time for him;by waiting he reckoned he should be able to transact some lucrativebusiness.
Such in his solitude were old Isaac's cogitations, whilst the universalpopulation of Nina's Hive were congratulating themselves upon being ridof his odious presence.
As already stated in the message brought by the carrier pigeon, thedistance traveled by Gallia in April was 39,000,000 leagues, and at theend of the month she was 110,000,000 leagues from the sun. A diagramrepresenting the elliptical orbit of the planet, accompanied byan ephemeris made out in minute detail, had been drawn out by theprofessor. The curve was divided into twenty-four sections of unequallength, representing respectively the distance described in thetwenty-four months of the Gallian year, the twelve former divisions,according to Kepler's law, gradually diminishing in length as theyapproached the point denoting the aphelion and increasing as they nearedthe perihelion.
It was on the 12th of May that Rosette exhibited this result of hislabors to Servadac, the count, and the lieutenant, who visited hisapartment and naturally examined the drawing with the keenest interest.Gallia's path, extending beyond the orbit of Jupiter, lay clearlydefined before their eyes, the progress along the orbit and the solardistances being inserted for each month separately. Nothing could lookplainer, and if the professor's calculations were correct (a point uponwhich they dared not, if they would, express the semblance of a doubt),Gallia would accomplish her revolution in precisely two years, and wouldmeet the earth, which would in the same period of time have completedtwo annual revolutions, in the very same spot as before. What would bethe consequences of a second collision they scarcely ventured to think.
Without lifting his eye from the diagram, which he was still carefullyscrutinizing, Servadac said, "I see that during the month of May, Galliawill only travel 30,400,000 leagues, and that this will leave her about140,000,000 leagues distant from the sun."
"Just so," replied the professor.
"Then we have already passed the zone of the telescopic planets, have wenot?" asked the count.
"Can you not use your eyes?" said the professor, testily. "If yo
u willlook you will see the zone marked clearly enough upon the map."
Without noticing the interruption, Servadac continued his own remarks,"The comet then, I see, is to reach its aphelion on the 15th of January,exactly a twelvemonth after passing its perihelion."
"A twelvemonth! Not a Gallian twelvemonth?" exclaimed Rosette.
Servadac looked bewildered. Lieutenant Procope could not suppress asmile.
"What are you laughing at?" demanded the professor, turning round uponhim angrily.
"Nothing, sir; only it amuses me to see how you want to revise theterrestrial calendar."
"I want to be logical, that's all."
"By all manner of means, my dear professor, let us be logical."
"Well, then, listen to me," resumed the professor, stiffly. "I presumeyou are taking it for granted that the Gallian year--by which I meanthe time in which Gallia makes one revolution round the sun--is equal inlength to two terrestrial years."
They signified their assent.
"And that year, like every other year, ought to be divided into twelvemonths."
"Yes, certainly, if you wish it," said the captain, acquiescing.
"If I wish it!" exclaimed Rosette. "Nothing of the sort! Of course ayear must have twelve months!"
"Of course," said the captain.
"And how many days will make a month?" asked the professor.
"I suppose sixty or sixty-two, as the case may be. The days now are onlyhalf as long as they used to be," answered the captain.
"Servadac, don't be thoughtless!" cried Rosette, with all the petulantimpatience of the old pedagogue. "If the days are only half as longas they were, sixty of them cannot make up a twelfth part of Gallia'syear--cannot be a month."
"I suppose not," replied the confused captain.
"Do you not see, then," continued the astronomer, "that if a Gallianmonth is twice as long as a terrestrial month, and a Gallian day is onlyhalf as long as a terrestrial day, there must be a hundred and twentydays in every month?"
"No doubt you are right, professor," said Count Timascheff; "but do younot think that the use of a new calendar such as this would practicallybe very troublesome?"
"Not at all! not at all! I do not intend to use any other," was theprofessor's bluff reply.
After pondering for a few moments, the captain spoke again. "According,then, to this new calendar, it isn't the middle of May at all; it mustnow be some time in March."
"Yes," said the professor, "to-day is the 26th of March. It is the266th day of the Gallian year. It corresponds with the 133d day of theterrestrial year. You are quite correct, it is the 26th of March."
"Strange!" muttered Servadac.
"And a month, a terrestrial month, thirty old days, sixty new dayshence, it will be the 86th of March."
"Ha, ha!" roared the captain; "this is logic with a vengeance!"
The old professor had an undefined consciousness that his former pupilwas laughing at him; and as it was growing late, he made an excusethat he had no more leisure. The visitors accordingly quitted theobservatory.
It must be owned that the revised calendar was left to the professor'ssole use, and the colony was fairly puzzled whenever he referred to suchunheard-of dates as the 47th of April or the 118th of May.
According to the old calendar, June had now arrived; [illustrationomitted] [page intentionally blank] and by the professor's tables Galliaduring the month would have advanced 27,500,000 leagues farther alongits orbit, and would have attained a distance of 155,000,000 leaguesfrom the sun. The thermometer continued to fall; the atmosphere remainedclear as heretofore. The population performed their daily avocationswith systematic routine; and almost the only thing that broke themonotony of existence was an occasional visit from the blustering,nervous, little professor, when some sudden fancy induced him to throwaside his astronomical studies for a time, and pay a visit to the commonhall. His arrival there was generally hailed as the precursor of alittle season of excitement. Somehow or other the conversation wouldeventually work its way round to the topic of a future collision betweenthe comet and the earth; and in the same degree as this was a matterof sanguine anticipation to Captain Servadac and his friends, it was amatter of aversion to the astronomical enthusiast, who had no desire toquit his present quarters in a sphere which, being of his own discovery,he could hardly have cared for more if it had been of his own creation.The interview would often terminate in a scene of considerableanimation.
On the 27th of June (old calendar) the professor burst like acannon-ball into the central hall, where they were all assembled, andwithout a word of salutation or of preface, accosted the lieutenant inthe way in which in earlier days he had been accustomed to speak to anidle school-boy, "Now, lieutenant! no evasions! no shufflings! Tell me,have you or have you not circumnavigated Gallia?"
The lieutenant drew himself up stiffly. "Evasions! shufflings! I am notaccustomed, sir--" he began in a tone evidencing no little resentment;but catching a hint from the count he subdued his voice, and simplysaid, "We have."
"And may I ask," continued the professor, quite unaware of his previousdiscourtesy, "whether, when you made your voyage, you took any accountof distances?"
"As approximately as I could," replied the lieutenant; "I did what Icould by log and compass. I was unable to take the altitude of sun orstar."
"At what result did you arrive? What is the measurement of our equator?"
"I estimate the total circumference of the equator to be about 1,400miles."
"Ah!" said the professor, more than half speaking to himself, "acircumference of 1,400 miles would give a diameter of about 450 miles.That would be approximately about one-sixteenth of the diameter of theearth."
Raising his voice, he continued, "Gentlemen, in order to complete myaccount of my comet Gallia, I require to know its area, its mass, itsvolume, its density, its specific gravity."
"Since we know the diameter," remarked the lieutenant, "there can be nodifficulty in finding its surface and its volume."
"And did I say there was any difficulty?" asked the professor, fiercely."I have been able to reckon that ever since I was born."
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" cried Ben Zoof, delighted at any opportunity ofpaying off his old grudge.
The professor looked at him, but did not vouchsafe a word. Addressingthe captain, he said, "Now, Servadac, take your paper and a pen, andfind me the surface of Gallia."
With more submission than when he was a school-boy, the captain sat downand endeavored to recall the proper formula.
"The surface of a sphere? Multiply circumference by diameter."
"Right!" cried Rosette; "but it ought to be done by this time."
"Circumference, 1,400; diameter, 450; area of surface, 630,000," readthe captain.
"True," replied Rosette, "630,000 square miles; just 292 times less thanthat of the earth."
"Pretty little comet! nice little comet!" muttered Ben Zoof.
The astronomer bit his lip, snorted, and cast at him a withering look,but did not take any further notice.
"Now, Captain Servadac," said the professor, "take your pen again, andfind me the volume of Gallia."
The captain hesitated.
"Quick, quick!" cried the professor, impatiently; "surely you have notforgotten how to find the volume of a sphere!"
"A moment's breathing time, please."
"Breathing time, indeed! A mathematician should not want breathingtime! Come, multiply the surface by the third of the radius. Don't yourecollect?"
Captain Servadac applied himself to his task while the by-standerswaited, with some difficulty suppressing their inclination to laugh.There was a short silence, at the end of which Servadac announced thatthe volume of the comet was 47,880,000 cubic miles.
"Just about 5,000 times less than the earth," observed the lieutenant.
"Nice little comet! pretty little comet!" said Ben Zoof.
The professor scowled at him, and was manifestly annoyed at having theinsignificant dime
nsions of his comet pointed out in so disparaginga manner. Lieutenant Procope further remarked that from the earthhe supposed it to be about as conspicuous as a star of the seventhmagnitude, and would require a good telescope to see it.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the orderly, aloud; "charming little comet! so pretty;and so modest!"
"You rascal!" roared the professor, and clenched his hand in passion, asif about to strike him. Ben Zoof laughed the more, and was on the pointof repeating his satirical comments, when a stern order from the captainmade him hold his tongue. The truth was that the professor was just assensitive about his comet as the orderly was about Montmartre, and ifthe contention between the two had been allowed to go on unchecked, itis impossible to say what serious quarrel might not have arisen.
When Professor Rosette's equanimity had been restored, he said, "Thus,then, gentlemen, the diameter, the surface, the volume of my comet aresettled; but there is more to be done. I shall not be satisfied until,by actual measurement, I have determined its mass, its density, and theforce of gravity at its surface."
"A laborious problem," remarked Count Timascheff.
"Laborious or not, it has to be accomplished. I am resolved to find outwhat my comet weighs."
"Would it not be of some assistance, if we knew of what substance it iscomposed?" asked the lieutenant.
"That is of no moment at all," replied the professor; "the problem isindependent of it."
"Then we await your orders," was the captain's reply.
"You must understand, however," said Rosette, "that there are variouspreliminary calculations to be made; you will have to wait till they arefinished."
"As long as you please," said the count.
"No hurry at all," observed the captain, who was not in the leastimpatient to continue his mathematical exercises.
"Then, gentlemen," said the astronomer, "with your leave we will forthis purpose make an appointment a few weeks hence. What do you say tothe 62d of April?"
Without noticing the general smile which the novel date provoked, theastronomer left the hall, and retired to his observatory.
