From the Earth to the Moon, Direct in Ninety-Seven Hours and Twenty Minutes: and a Trip Round It
Page 49
CHAPTER XVII.
TYCHO.
At six in the evening the projectile passed the south pole at less thanforty miles off, a distance equal to that already reached at the northpole. The elliptical curve was being rigidly carried out.
At this moment the travellers once more entered the blessed rays of thesun. 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 alsosent heat, which soon pierced the metal walls. The glass resumed itsaccustomed appearance. The layers of ice melted as if by enchantment; andimmediately, for economy's sake, the gas was put out, the air apparatusalone consuming its usual quantity.
"Ah!" said Nicholl, "these rays of heat are good. With what impatiencemust 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 thelunar surface, in order to follow the slightly lengthened ellipticalorbit. From this point, had the earth been at the full, Barbicane andhis companions could have seen it, but immersed in the sun's irradiationshe was quite invisible. Another spectacle attracted their attention,that of the southern part of the moon, brought by the glasses to within450 yards. They did not again leave the scuttles, and noted every detailof this fantastical continent.
Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz formed two separate groups very near thesouth pole. The first group extended from the pole to the eighty-fourthparallel, on the eastern part of the orb; the second occupied the easternborder, extending from the 65 deg. of latitude to the pole.
On their capriciously formed ridge appeared dazzling sheets, as mentionedby 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 theyreflect the luminous rays. Cooled lava would never give out such intensereflection. There must then be water, there must be air on the moon. Aslittle as you please, but the fact can no longer be contested." No, itcould not be. And if ever Barbicane should see the earth again, his noteswill bear witness to this great fact in his selenographic observations.
These mountains of Doerfel and Leibnitz rose in the midst of plains of amedium extent, which were bounded by an indefinite succession of circlesand annular ramparts. These two chains are the only ones met with inthis region of circles. Comparatively but slightly marked, they throw uphere and there some sharp points, the highest summit of which attains analtitude of 24,600 feet.
But the projectile was high above all this landscape, and the projectionsdisappeared in the intense brilliancy of the disc. And to the eyes of thetravellers there reappeared that original aspect of the lunar landscapes,raw in tone, without gradation of colours, and without degrees of shadow,roughly black and white, from the want of diffusion of light.
Illustration: HE DISTINGUISHED ALL THIS.
But the sight of this desolate world did not fail to captivate them by itsvery strangeness. They were moving over this region as if they had beenborne on the breath of some storm, watching heights defile under theirfeet, piercing the cavities with their eyes, going down into the rifts,climbing the ramparts, sounding these mysterious holes, and levelling allcracks. But no trace of vegetation, no appearance of cities; nothing butstratification, beds of lava, overflowings polished like immense mirrors,reflecting the sun's rays with overpowering brilliancy. Nothing belongingto a _living_ world--everything to a dead world, where avalanches,rolling from the summits of the mountains, would disperse noiselessly atthe bottom of the abyss, retaining the motion, but wanting the sound. Inany case it was the image of death, without its being possible even tosay that life had ever existed there.
Michel Ardan, however, thought he recognized a heap of ruins, to whichhe drew Barbicane's attention. It was about the 80th parallel, in 30 deg.longitude. This heap of stones, rather regularly placed, represented avast fortress, overlooking a long rift, which in former days had servedas a bed to the rivers of prehistorical times. Not far from that, roseto a height of 17,400 feet the annular mountain of Short, equal to theAsiatic Caucasus. Michel Ardan, with his accustomed ardour, maintained"the evidences" of his fortress. Beneath it he discerned the dismantledramparts of a town; here the still intact arch of a portico, there twoor three columns lying under their base; farther on, a succession ofarches which must have supported the conduit of an aqueduct; in anotherpart the sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge, run into the thickest partsof the rift. He distinguished all this, but with so much imagination inhis glance, and through glasses so fantastical, that we must mistrusthis observation. But who could affirm, who would dare to say, that theamiable fellow did not really see that which his two companions wouldnot see?
Moments were too precious to be sacrificed in idle discussion. TheSelenite 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. Thereliefs, the circles, the craters and plains alone remained, and stillshowed their boundary lines distinctly. At this moment, to the left,lay extended one of the finest circles of lunar orography, one of thecuriosities of this continent. It was Newton, which Barbicane recognizedwithout trouble, by referring to the _Mappa Selenographica_.
Newton is situated in exactly 77 deg. south lat., and 16 deg. east long.It forms an annular crater, the ramparts of which, rising to a height of21,300 feet, seemed to be impassable.
Barbicane made his companions observe that the height of this mountainabove the surrounding plain was far from equalling the depth of itscrater. This enormous hole was beyond all measurement, and formed agloomy abyss, the bottom of which the sun's rays could never reach.There, according to Humboldt, reigns utter darkness, which the light ofthe sun and the earth cannot break. Mythologists could well have made itthe mouth of hell.
"Newton," said Barbicane, "is the most perfect type of these annularmountains, of which the earth possesses no sample. They prove thatthe moon's formation, by means of cooling, is due to violent causes;for whilst under the pressure of internal fires the reliefs rise toconsiderable 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 overlookedthe annular mountain of Moret. It skirted at some distance the summitsof Blancanus, and at about half-past seven in the evening reached thecircle of Clavius.
This circle, one of the most remarkable of the disc, is situated in 58deg. south lat., and 15 deg. east long. Its height is estimated at 22,950feet. The travellers, at a distance of twenty-four miles (reduced to fourby their glasses), could admire this vast crater in its entirety.