research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. page 62 original: many hours later, and may miles farther changed to: many hours later, and many miles farther page 69 no change: embitted, there was no warmth in copeland retained embitted project hush by william tenn illustrated by dick francis [transcriber note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction february 1954. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [sidenote: the biggest job in history and it had to be done with complete secrecy. it was--which was just the trouble!] i guess i'm just a stickler, a perfectionist, but if you do a thing, i always say, you might as well do it right. everything satisfied me about the security measures on our assignment except one--the official army designation. project hush. i don't know who thought it up, and i certainly would never ask, but whoever it was, he should have known better. damn it, when you want a project kept secret, you _don't_ give it a designation like that! you give it something neutral, some name like the manhattan and overlord they used in world war ii, which won't excite anybody's curiosity. but we were stuck with project hush and we had to take extra measures to ensure secrecy. a couple of times a week, everyone on the project had to report to psycho for dd & ha--dream detailing and hypnoanalysis--instead of the usual monthly visit. naturally, the commanding general of the heavily fortified research post to which we were attached could not ask what we were doing, under penalty of court-martial, but he had to be given further instructions to shut off his imagination like a faucet every time he heard an explosion. some idiot in washington was actually going to list project hush in the military budget by name! it took fast action, i can tell you, to have it entered under miscellaneous "x" research. well, we'd covered the unforgivable blunder, though not easily, and now we could get down to the real business of the project. you know, of course, about the a-bomb, h-bomb and c-bomb because information that they existed had been declassified. you don't know about the other weapons being devised--and neither did we, reasonably enough, since they weren't our business--but we had been given properly guarded notification that they were in the works. project hush was set up to counter the new weapons. our goal was not just to reach the moon. we had done that on 24 june 1967 with an unmanned ship that carried instruments to report back data on soil, temperature, cosmic rays and so on. unfortunately, it was put out of commission by a rock slide. an unmanned rocket would be useless against the new weapons. we had to get to the moon before any other country did and set up a permanent station--an armed one--and do it without anybody else knowing about it. i guess you see now why we on (_damn_ the name!) project hush were so concerned about security. but we felt pretty sure, before we took off, that we had plugged every possible leak. we had, all right. nobody even knew we had raised ship. * * * * * we landed at the northern tip of mare nubium, just off regiomontanus, and, after planting a flag with appropriate throat-catching ceremony, had swung into the realities of the tasks we had practiced on so many dry runs back on earth. major monroe gridley prepared the big rocket, with its tiny cubicle of living space, for the return journey to earth which he alone would make. lieutenant-colonel thomas hawthorne painstakingly examined our provisions and portable quarters for any damage that might have been incurred in landing. and i, colonel benjamin rice, first commanding officer of army base no. 1 on the moon, dragged crate after enormous crate out of the ship on my aching academic back, and piled them in the spot two hundred feet away where the plastic dome would be built. we all finished at just about the same time, as per schedule, and went into phase two. monroe and i started work on building the dome. it was a simple pre-fab affair, but big enough to require an awful lot of assembling. then, after it was built, we faced the real problem--getting all the complex internal machinery in place and in operating order. meanwhile, tom hawthorne took his plump self off in the single-seater rocket which, up to then, had doubled as a lifeboat. the schedule called for him to make a rough three-hour scouting survey in an ever-widening spiral from our dome. this had been regarded as a probable waste of time, rocket fuel and manpower--but a necessary precaution. he was supposed to watch for such things as bug-eyed monsters out for a stroll on the lunar landscape. basically, however, tom's survey was intended to supply extra geological and astronomical meat for the report which monroe was to carry back to army hq on earth. tom was back in forty minutes. his round face, inside its transparent bubble helmet, was fish-belly white. and so were ours, once he told us what he'd seen. he had seen another dome. "the other side of mare nubium--in the riphaen mountains," he babbled excitedly. "it's a little bigger than ours, and it's a little flatter on top. and it's not translucent, either, with splotches of different colors here and there--it's a dull, dark, heavy gray. but that's all there is to see." "no markings on the dome?" i asked worriedly. "no signs of anyone--or anything--around it?" "neither, colonel." i noticed he was calling me by my rank for the first time since the trip started, which meant he was saying in effect, "man, have you got a decision to make!" "hey, tom," monroe put in. "couldn't be just a regularly shaped bump in the ground, could it?" "i'm a geologist, monroe. i can distinguish artificial from natural topography. besides--" he looked up--"i just remembered something i left out. there's a brand-new tiny crater near the dome--the kind usually left by a rocket exhaust." "rocket exhaust?" i seized on that. "_rockets_, eh?" * * * * * tom grinned a little sympathetically. "spaceship exhaust, i should have said. you can't tell from the crater what kind of propulsive device these characters are using. it's not the same kind of crater our rear-jets leave, if that helps any." of course it didn't. so we went into our ship and had a council of war. and i do mean war. both tom and monroe were calling me colonel in every other sentence. i used their first names every chance i got. still, no one but me could reach a decision. about what to do, i mean. "look," i said at last, "here are the possibilities. they know we are here--either from watching us land a couple of hours ago or from observing tom's scout-ship--or they do not know we are here. they are either humans from earth--in which case they are in all probability enemy nationals--or they are alien creatures from another planet--in which case they may be friends, enemies or what-have-you. i think common sense and standard military procedure demand that we consider them hostile until we have evidence to the contrary. meanwhile, we proceed with extreme caution, so as not to precipitate an interplanetary war with potentially friendly martians, or whatever they are. "all right. it's vitally important that army headquarters be informed of this immediately. but since moon-to-earth radio is still on the drawing boards, the only way we can get through is to send monroe back with the ship. if we do, we run the risk of having our garrison force, tom and me, captured while he's making the return trip. in that case, their side winds up in possession of important information concerning our personnel and equipment, while our side has only the bare knowledge that somebody or something else has a base on the moon. so our primary need is more information. "therefore, i suggest that i sit in the dome on one end of a telephone hookup with tom, who will sit in the ship, his hand over the firing button, ready to blast off for earth the moment he gets the order from me. monroe will take the single-seater down to the riphaen mountains, landing as close to the other dome as he thinks safe. he will then proceed the rest of the way on foot, doing the best scouting job he can in a spacesuit. "he will not use his radio, except for agreed-upon nonsense syllables to designate landing the single-seater, coming upon the dome by foot, and warning me to tell tom to take off. if he's captured, remembering that the first purpose of a scout is acquiring and transmitting knowledge of the enemy, he will snap his suit radio on full volume and pass on as much data as time and the enemy's reflexes permit. how does that sound to you?" they both nodded. as far as they were concerned, the command decision had been made. but i was sitting under two inches of sweat. "one question," tom said. "why did you pick monroe for the scout?" "i was afraid you'd ask that," i told him. "we're three extremely unathletic ph.d.s who have been in the army since we finished our schooling. there isn't too much choice. but i remembered that monroe is half indian--arapahoe, isn't it, monroe?--and i'm hoping blood will tell." "only trouble, colonel," monroe said slowly as he rose, "is that i'm one-_fourth_ indian and even that.... didn't i ever tell you that my great-grandfather was the only arapahoe scout who was with custer at the little big horn? he'd been positive sitting bull was miles away. however, i'll do my best. and if i heroically don't come back, would you please persuade the security officer of our section to clear my name for use in the history books? under the circumstances, i think it's the least he could do." i promised to do my best, of course. * * * * * after he took off, i sat in the dome over the telephone connection to tom and hated myself for picking monroe to do the job. but i'd have hated myself just as much for picking tom. and if anything happened and i had to tell tom to blast off, i'd probably be sitting here in the dome all by myself after that, waiting.... "_broz neggle!_" came over the radio in monroe's resonant voice. he had landed the single-seater. i didn't dare use the telephone to chat with tom in the ship, for fear i might miss an important word or phrase from our scout. so i sat and sat and strained my ears. after a while, i heard "_mishgashu!_" which told me that monroe was in the neighborhood of the other dome and was creeping toward it under cover of whatever boulders were around. [illustration] and then, abruptly, i heard monroe yell my name and there was a terrific clattering in my headphones. radio interference! he'd been caught, and whoever had caught him had simultaneously jammed his suit transmitter with a larger transmitter from the alien dome. then there was silence. after a while, i told tom what had happened. he just said, "poor monroe." i had a good idea of what his expression was like. "look, tom," i said, "if you take off now, you still won't have anything important to tell. after capturing monroe, whatever's in that other dome will come looking for us, i think. i'll let them get close enough for us to learn something of their appearance--at least if they're human or non-human. any bit of information about them is important. i'll shout it up to you and you'll still be able to take off in plenty of time. all right?" "you're the boss, colonel," he said in a mournful voice. "lots of luck." and then there was nothing to do but wait. there was no oxygen system in the dome yet, so i had to squeeze up a sandwich from the food compartment in my suit. i sat there, thinking about the expedition. nine years, and all that careful secrecy, all that expenditure of money and mind-cracking research--and it had come to this. waiting to be wiped out, in a blast from some unimaginable weapon. i understood monroe's last request. we often felt we were so secret that our immediate superiors didn't even want us to know what we we were working on. scientists are people--they wish for recognition, too. i was hoping the whole expedition would be written up in the history books, but it looked unpromising. * * * * * two hours later, the scout ship landed near the dome. the lock opened and, from where i stood in the open door of our dome, i saw monroe come out and walk toward me. i alerted tom and told him to listen carefully. "it may be a trick--he might be drugged...." he didn't act drugged, though--not exactly. he pushed his way past me and sat down on a box to one side of the dome. he put his booted feet up on another, smaller box. "how are you, ben?" he asked. "how's every little thing?" i grunted. "_well?_" i know my voice skittered a bit. he pretended puzzlement. "well _what_? oh, i see what you mean. the other dome--you want to know who's in it. you have a right to be curious, ben. certainly. the leader of a top-secret expedition like this--project hush they call us, huh, ben--finds another dome on the moon. he thinks he's been the first to land on it, so naturally he wants to--" "major monroe gridley!" i rapped out. "you will come to attention and deliver your report. now!" honestly, i felt my neck swelling up inside my helmet. monroe just leaned back against the side of the dome. "that's the _army_ way of doing things," he commented admiringly. "like the recruits say, there's a right way, a wrong way and an army way. only there are other ways, too." he chuckled. "lots of other ways." "he's off," i heard tom whisper over the telephone. "ben, monroe has gone and blown his stack." "they aren't extraterrestrials in the other dome, ben," monroe volunteered in a sudden burst of sanity. "no, they're human, all right, and from earth. guess _where_." "i'll kill you," i warned him. "i swear i'll kill you, monroe. where are they from--russia, china, argentina?" he grimaced. "what's so secret about those places? go on!--guess again." i stared at him long and hard. "the only place else--" "sure," he said. "you got it, colonel. the other dome is owned and operated by the navy. the goddam united states navy!" my lady selene by magnus ludens [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy magazine april 1963. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] everyone knows the moon is dead. everyone is quite correct--now! on impact he'd had time to see hatter's head jerk loose from the carefully weakened strap. as hatter slumped unconscious he touched the hidden switch. a shock, then darkness. what first came to him out of the humming blackout mist was his own name: marcusson. al marcusson, just turned sixteen that saturday in june, that green-leafed day his father had called him out to the back yard. they had sat on discount-house furniture under the heavy maple, al who wore jeans and sneakers and a resigned expression, his father who wore glasses, a sport shirt, slacks, eyelet shoes and a curious reckless smile, a smile that didn't belong in the picture. "now you're sixteen, al, there's something i have to tell you," his father had begun. "my father told me when i turned sixteen, and his father told him. first, the name of our family isn't marcusson. it's marcopoulos. your name's alexander marcopoulos." "what? dad, you must be kidding! look, all the records...." "the records don't go back far enough. our name was changed four generations back, but the legal records disappeared in the usual convenient courthouse fire. as far as anyone knows, our family's name's always been marcusson. my grandfather went to minnesota and settled among the swedes there. unlike most foreigners he'd taken pains to learn good english beforehand. and swedish. he was good at languages." for a moment the out-of-place smile came back. "all our family is. languages, math, getting along with people, seldom getting lost or confused. you better pay attention, al. this is the only time i'm going to speak of our family, like my father. we never bothered much, by the way, about how our name was written. you can believe me or think i sat in the sun too long, but i'll tell you how our most famous relatives spelled it: marco polo." "oh, now...." "never mind what you think now. besides, i won't answer any questions, anyway. my father didn't and he was right. i found out some things by myself later; you'll probably find out more. for example, the best job for us is still exploring. that's why i became an oil geologist, and it paid off. another thing: learning the legends of the place you're in, if you take up exploring, can mean the difference between success and a broken neck. that's all, boy. guess i'll get your mother some peonies for the supper table." al marcusson had gone up quietly to his room. later, his special gift for languages and math got him through college and engineering school; his sense of direction and lack of inner-ear trouble helped to get him chosen for astronaut training while he was in the air force. while in training at the cape he had met and married a luscious brunette librarian in one of the sponge-fishing towns, a brunette with a rather complicated last name that became forgotten as she turned into mrs. marcusson, and unbeatable recipes for the most bewitching cocktails since circe held the shaker for ulysses. marcusson's hobbies included scuba diving, electronic tinkering and reading. his psychiatrists noted a tendency to reserve, even secrecy, which was not entirely bad in a man who worked with classified material and had to face long periods of time alone. besides, his ability to get along with people largely compensated. * * * * * with slowly returning consciousness the last months of training swam in al marcusson's mind. the orbital flight--the only part of it he'd really enjoyed was the quarter-hour alone with sarah, the electronic beacon, cut off from control and even from the rescue team just over the horizon, alone with the music of wind and sea. for the moon shot he'd been responsible for communications, recording and sensing systems inside the capsule, as hatter had for the life-support systems and their two back-up men for propulsion and ground systems coordination respectively. he relived the maddening, risky business of the master switch to be secretly connected with the capsule's several brains and camouflaged. the strap to be weakened. then the blind terror of launch when his pulse had topped 120; blurred vision, clenched teeth, the suit digging into him, the brief relief of weightlessness erased by the cramped, terrifying ride filled with new sensations and endless petty tasks. the camera eye pitilessly trained on his helmet. the way things had of staying there when you'd put them away. on earth--already it was "on earth," as if earth was a port he'd sailed from--you put things out of your mind, but here they bobbed before you still, like the good luck charm in its little leather bag, for instance, the charm his wife had tied to one of his fastener tabs and that kept dancing in the air like a puppet, jerking every time he breathed. every time he breathed in the familiar sweat-plastic-chemicals smell, familiar because he'd been smelling it in training, in the transfer truck, in the capsule mock-up for months. all that should be new and adventurous had become stale and automatic through relentless training. his eyes rested on the color-coded meters and switches that were associated with nausea in the centrifuge tumbler-trainer. the couch made him think of long hours in the chlorinated pool--he always used to come out with his stomach rumbling and wrinkled white fingers, despite the tablets and the silicone creams. his skin itched beneath the adhesive pads that held the prying electrodes to his body, itched like the salt and sand itch he felt after swimming between training bouts. it was still florida air he breathed, but filters had taken out its oil-fouled hot smell, its whiffs of canteen cooking, fish, seaweed and raw concrete in the sun. hatter's and his own sing-song bit talk, so deliciously new to television audiences, rang trite in his own ears: a makeshift vocabulary, primer sentences chosen for maximum transmission efficiency to control. the control center he remembered from having watched orbital flights himself. machines that patiently followed pulse rate, breathing, temperature. squiggly lines, awkward computer handwriting, screens where dots jumped, screens that showed instrument panels, screens where his own helmet showed, and inside it the squirming blob that was his own face, rendered as a kind of rubberized black-and-white tragic mask. he felt the metal ears turning, questing for signals, the little black boxes, miniaturized colossi tracking, listening, spewing tape. on the capsule itself--all folded in like japanese water flowers--sensors, cameras, listeners, analyzers should have burgeoned on impact, shot up, reached out, grasped, retracted, analyzed, counted, transmitted. but he'd cut the switch. * * * * * al marcusson blinked awake. he set about freeing himself, a task comparable to getting a butterfly alive out of a spider web. every creak of his suit and of the moulded couch sounded loud and flat in the newly silent capsule. his breathing soughed about him. but no signal went out from the electrodes taped to his chest to say that his heart beat had again topped a hundred, that he sweated, that his stomach contracted--even though he was under no gravity strain, the emergency cooling worked, and his latest no-crumbs, low-residue meal had been welcomed by the same stomach an hour earlier. he sat up. the port gave off a pale creamy glow. he leaned forward and could see nothing except for a creamor eggshell-colored mist, even and opaque. he undid his glove-rings and took off his gloves. by the gleam of his wrist-light he checked whether hatter was breathing correctly from his suit, visor down, and not the capsule's air, then put his gloves on again and bled the air slowly out. they were not supposed to leave the capsule, of course. still the possibility of having to check or repair something had had to be considered and it was theoretically possible. he began the nerve-rasping egress procedure, through the narrow igloo-lock that seemed to extend painful claws and knobs to catch at every loop and fold of his suit. at last he gave a frantic wiggle and rolled free. because of the dead switch, turning antennae circled in vain, pens stopped reeling out ink, screens stayed blank. the men in the control room activated emergency signals but got no triggered responses. meanwhile, television reporters sent frantic requests for background material fillers, their "and now back to's" falling thick and fast. al marcusson bounced on a kind of lumpy featherbed two or three times before coming to rest in the same eggshell soup. dust. moon dust that had no particular reason for dropping back now cocooned the ship. he stood up with great care and staggered straight out, putting his feet down slowly to minimize dust puffs. the mist thinned and he rubbed the gloves against his visor and goggled. cliffs, craters, spines, crests and jags stood there as in the photographs except for a curious staginess he realized came from the harsh footlights effect of the twilight zone they'd landed in and from the shorter horizon with its backdrop of old black velvet dusty with stars. but the colors! ruby cliffs, surfaces meteor-pitted in places to a rosy bloom, rose to pinnacles of dull jade that fell again in raw emerald slopes; saffron splashes of small craters punctuated the violet sponge of scattered lava, topaz stalagmites reared against sapphire crests, amethyst spines pierced agate ridges ... and on every ledge, in every hollow, pale moondust lay like a blessing. when you were a kid, did you ever wake up at night in a pullman berth and hear the snoring and looked at the moonwashed countryside knowing you only were awake and hugging the knowledge to yourself? did you ever set off alone at dawn to fish or hunt and watch the slow awakening of trees? did you ever climb the wall into an abandoned estate and explore the park and suddenly come upon a statue half-hidden in honeysuckle, a statue with a secret smile? al marcusson sat by himself on the twilight zone of the moon and watched the sun shining through cloudy glass arches and throwing on moondust the same colored shadows that it throws through the great stained-glass windows on the flagstones of chartres cathedral. he looked up at earth, now in "new earth" position, a majestic ring of blue fire flushed with violet, red and gold at the crescent where clouds flashed white iridescence. he jerked free the little bag that held his good luck charm and waited. they came. * * * * * he could see them silhouetted against earth, the long undulating v of them. now he could discern their wings beating in the vacuum that couldn't support them and heard the wild lonely honking through the vacuum that couldn't transmit sound. white wings surged steadily nearer. soon there was a tempest of white, a tempest that stirred no dust, and the swans settled about him. al marcusson stood up. "my lady selene," he began, speaking carefully although he knew that the sound could not be heard outside his helmet. "my lady luna, my lady of the swans, i greet you. i know of you through legends: i know you are aphrodite the swan-rider, goddess of love that drives to suicide. i know you are the white goddess, the three-women-in-one, who changes your slaves into swans. i know of your twin daughters, helen the fair, bane of troy, and dark clytemnestra, mycenae's destroyer. i know of your flight as the wyrd of death who took great beowulf of the geats, of your quests as diana of the cruel moonlit hunts; i remember your swan-wings shadowing the hosts of prince igor on the steppes, i have seen the rings of your sacred hansa swans decorating the moon-shaped steps of temples in ceylon, your flights of swans and geese on painted tombs beyond the nile. the witches of my own thessaly called upon you to work their spells. on the feast of beltane, on the first of may, with hawthorn branches blooming white as your swans, the celts did you honor. the folk on the rhine brought you figurines of white clay and long remembered your wild walpurgisnacht. but as other beliefs drove out the old, you went from the minds of men to those of children. only in andersen's tales do you still change your slaves into swans, only children understand the spells held in the foolish rhymes of mother goose. children know of the lady who flies on goose's back, her cape dark behind her, and each generation in turn still listens to your spells, my lady of the swans. and sometimes poets, and sometimes hunters, and sometimes lovers look up at the moon and are afraid and acknowledge your power." al marcusson stopped. the birds ringed him in. he held up his good luck charm, a small, carved rock-crystal swan, such as are found in the very ancient tombs of the bronze-age sea kings of the aegean. "my lady selene," he cried, "i bring an offering! i came alone, before the others, to tell you the new beliefs now come to your dwelling. i came to warn you, my lady of the swans, to beg you not to be wrathful against us, unwilling intruders, to ask you to take up your dwelling in another place, but not to deprive us of poetry, of witching spells and dreams, and all that the moon has meant to us." he threw the crystal swan before him. the plumes about him foamed and a snowy form emerged, a moonstone with black opal eyes who smiled and began to sing. marcusson's knees gave and his eyes closed. then she spread great swan wings and soared, circling far lest her shadow fall on the crumpled spacesuited figure. she rose. and her swans--her thousand myriad swans--rose after her out of cracks, caves and craters, from beneath overhangs, from ledges, hollows and rock-falls, their plumes at first stained with the colors of the stone. they winged away, v after sinuous v, across earth and into space. when the last swan had left the moon became just another piece of colored rock. * * * * * al marcusson opened his eyes and made his way dully back into the dust cloud now shot with flashes of red-orange as earth's laser beams searched for the capsule's nerve centers. he bumped against a strut and forced his way in. a hum filled the capsule. ungainly jointed limbs, paddles, calyxes, sprouted from its outside walls. on earth pens jiggled, tapes were punched, rows of figures in five columns appeared on blank pages, pulses jumped and two groggy, worn-out faces appeared on the control room screens. hatter's eyes flickered over the boards and he opened his mouth. some time later his disembodied voice came out of the monitor, reading dials, reporting on systems. then the screens showed al marcusson's eyes opening in turn. control could see him leaning forward towards the port, his face drawn in haggard lines and shadows, then letting his head fall back. "hey," he said, "didn't doc tell you guys dust gives me hay fever?" on earth the men about the screens slapped each other's backs and grinned and wiped their eyes. good old bellyaching marcusson! good old al! the moon was just another piece of rock, after all. but a star went nova in cygnus, and lovers wished on it that night. the snare by richard r. smith illustrated by weiss [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy january 1956. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] _it's easy to find a solution when there is one--the trick is to do it if there is none!_ i glanced at the path we had made across the _mare serenitatis_. the latin translated as "the sea of serenity." it was well named because, as far as the eye could see in every direction, there was a smooth layer of pumice that resembled the surface of a calm sea. scattered across the quiet sea of virgin moon dust were occasional islands of rock that jutted abruptly toward the infinity of stars above. considering everything, our surroundings conveyed a sense of serenity like none i had ever felt. our bounding path across the level expanse was clearly marked. because of the light gravity, we had leaped high into the air with each step and every time we struck the ground, the impact had raised a cloud of dustlike pumice. now the clouds of dust were slowly settling in the light gravity. above us, the stars were cold, motionless and crystal-clear. indifferently, they sprayed a faint light on our surroundings ... a dim glow that was hardly sufficient for normal vision and was too weak to be reflected toward earth. we turned our head-lamps on the strange object before us. five beams of light illuminated the smooth shape that protruded from the moon's surface. the incongruity was so awesome that for several minutes, we remained motionless and quiet. miller broke the silence with his quavering voice, "strange someone didn't notice it before." * * * * * strange? the object rose a quarter of a mile above us, a huge, curving hulk of smooth metal. it was featureless and yet conveyed a sense of _alienness_. it was alien and yet it wasn't a natural formation. something had made the thing, whatever it was. but was it strange that it hadn't been noticed before? men had lived on the moon for over a year, but the moon was vast and the _mare serenitatis_ covered three hundred and forty thousand square miles. "what is it?" marie asked breathlessly. her husband grunted his bafflement. "who knows? but see how it curves? if it's a perfect sphere, it must be at least two miles in diameter!" "if it's a perfect sphere," miller suggested, "most of it must be beneath the moon's surface." "maybe it isn't a sphere," my wife said. "maybe this is all of it." "let's call lunar city and tell the authorities about it." i reached for the radio controls on my suit. kane grabbed my arm. "no. let's find out whatever we can by ourselves. if we tell the authorities, they'll order us to leave it alone. if we discover something really important, we'll be famous!" i lowered my arm. his outburst seemed faintly childish to me. and yet it carried a good measure of common sense. if we discovered proof of an alien race, we would indeed be famous. the more we discovered for ourselves, the more famous we'd be. fame was practically a synonym for prestige and wealth. "all right," i conceded. miller stepped forward, moving slowly in the bulk of his spacesuit. deliberately, he removed a small torch from his side and pressed the brilliant flame against the metal. a few minutes later, the elderly mineralogist gave his opinion: "it's steel ... made thousands of years ago." someone gasped over the intercom, "thousands of years! but wouldn't it be in worse shape than this if it was that old?" miller pointed at the small cut his torch had made in the metal. the notch was only a quarter of an inch deep. "i say _steel_ because it's _similar_ to steel. actually, it's a much stronger alloy. besides that, on the moon, there's been no water or atmosphere to rust it. not even a wind to disturb its surface. it's _at least_ several thousand years old." * * * * * we slowly circled the alien structure. several minutes later, kane shouted, "look!" a few feet above the ground, the structure's smooth surface was broken by a circular opening that yawned invitingly. kane ran ahead and flashed his head-lamp into the dark recess. "there's a small room inside," he told us, and climbed through the opening. we waited outside and focused our lamps through the five-foot opening to give him as much light as possible. "come on in, marie," he called to his wife. "this is really something! it _must_ be an alien race. there's all kinds of weird drawings on the walls and gadgets that look like controls for something...." briefly, my lamp flickered over marie's pale face. her features struggled with two conflicting emotions: she was frightened by the alienness of the thing and yet she wanted to be with her husband. she hesitated momentarily, then climbed through the passage. "you want to go in?" my wife asked. "do you?" "let's." i helped verana through the opening, climbed through myself and turned to help miller. miller was sixty years old. he was an excellent mineralogist, alert mentally, but with a body that was almost feeble. i reached out to help him as he stepped into the passageway. for a brief second, he was framed in the opening, a dark silhouette against the star-studded sky. the next second, he was thrown twenty yards into the air. he gasped with pain when he struck the ground. "_something_ pushed me!" "are you all right?" "yes." he had fallen on a spot beyond our angle of vision. i started through the passage.... ... and struck an invisible solid wall. * * * * * my eyes were on the circular opening. a metal panel emerged from a recess on one side and slid across the passage. the room darkened with the absence of starlight. "_what happened?_" "the door to this damned place closed," i explained. "_what?_" before we could recover from the shock, the room filled with a brilliant glare. we turned off our lamps. the room was approximately twelve feet long and nine feet wide. the ceiling was only a few inches above our heads and when i looked at the smooth, hard metal, i felt as if i were trapped in some alien vault. the walls of the room were covered with strange drawings and instruments. here and there, kaleidoscopic lights pulsed rhythmically. kane brushed past me and beat his gloved fists against the metal door that had imprisoned us. "miller!" "yes?" "see if you can get this thing open from the outside." i knelt before the door and explored its surface with my fingers. there were no visible recesses or controls. over the intercom network, everyone's breath mingled and formed a rough, harsh sound. i could discern the women's quick, frightened breaths that were almost sobs. kane's breath was deep and strong; miller's was faltering and weak. "miller, get help!" "i'll--" the sound of his breathing ceased. we listened intently. "what happened to him?" "i'll phone lunar city." my fingers fumbled at the radio controls and trembled beneath the thick gloves. i turned the dials that would connect my radio with lunar city.... static grated against my ear drums. _static!_ * * * * * i listened to the harsh, erratic sound and my voice was weak by comparison: "calling lunar city." "static!" kane echoed my thoughts. his frown made deep clefts between his eyebrows. "there's no static between inter-lunar radio!" verana's voice was small and frightened. "that sounds like the static we hear over the bigger radios when we broadcast to earth." "it does," marie agreed. "but we wouldn't have that kind of static over _our_ radio, unless--" verana's eyes widened until the pupils were surrounded by circles of white--"unless we were in outer space!" we stared at the metal door that had imprisoned us, afraid even to speak of our fantastic suspicion. i deactivated my radio. marie screamed as an inner door opened to disclose a long, narrow corridor beyond. simultaneous with the opening of the second door, i felt air press against my spacesuit. before, our suits had been puffed outward by the pressure of air inside. now our spacesuits were slack and dangling on our bodies. we looked at each other and then at the inviting corridor beyond the open door. we went single file, first kane, then his wife marie. verana followed next and i was the last. we walked slowly, examining the strange construction. the walls were featureless but still seemed alien. at various places on the walls were the outlines of doors without handles or locks. kane pressed his shoulder against a door and shoved. the door was unyielding. i manipulated the air-vent controls of my spacesuit, allowed a small amount of the corridor's air into my helmet and inhaled cautiously. it smelled all right. i waited and nothing happened. gradually, i increased the intake, turned off the oxygenating machines and removed my helmet. "shut off your oxy," i suggested. "we might as well breathe the air in this place and save our supply. we may need the oxygen in our suits later." they saw that i had removed my helmet and was still alive and one by one removed their own helmets. * * * * * at the end of the corridor, kane stopped before a blank wall. the sweat on his face glistened dully; his chest rose and fell rapidly. kane was a pilot and one of the prerequisites for the job of guiding tons of metal between earth and the moon was a good set of nerves. kane excited easily, his temper was fiery, but his nerves were like steel. "the end of the line," he grunted. as though to disprove the statement, a door on his right side opened soundlessly. he went through the doorway as if shoved violently by an invisible hand. the door closed behind him. marie threw herself at the door and beat at the metal. "harry!" verana rushed to her side. another door on the opposite side of the corridor opened silently. the door was behind them; they didn't notice. before i could warn them, marie floated across the corridor, through the doorway. verana and i stared at the darkness beyond the opening, our muscles frozen by shock. the door closed behind marie's screaming, struggling form. verana's face was white with fear. apprehensively, she glanced at the other doors that lined the hall. i put my arms around her, held her close. "antigravity machines, force rays," i suggested worriedly. for several minutes, we remained motionless and silent. i recalled the preceding events of the day, searched for a sense of normality in them. the kanes, miller, verana and i lived in lunar city with hundreds of other people. mankind had inhabited the moon for over a year. means of recreation were scarce. many people explored the place to amuse themselves. after supper, we had decided to take a walk. as simple as that: a walk on the moon. we had expected only the familiar craters, chasms and weird rock formations. a twist of fate and here we were: imprisoned in an alien ship. my legs quivered with fatigue, my heart throbbed heavily, verana's perfume dizzied me. no, it wasn't a dream. despite our incredible situation, there was no sensation of unreality. * * * * * i took verana's hand and led her down the long corridor, retracing our steps. we had walked not more than two yards when the rest of the doors opened soundlessly. verana's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. six doors were now open. the only two that remained closed were the ones that the kanes had unwillingly entered. this time, no invisible hand thrust us into any of the rooms. i entered the nearest one. verana followed hesitantly. the walls of the large room were lined with shelves containing thousands of variously colored boxes and bottles. a table and four chairs were located in the center of the green, plasticlike floor. each chair had no back, only a curving platform with a single supporting column. "ed!" i joined verana on the other side of the room. she pointed a trembling finger at some crude drawings. "the things in this room are food!" the drawings were so simple that anyone could have understood them. the first drawing portrayed a naked man and woman removing boxes and bottles from the shelves. the second picture showed the couple opening the containers. the third showed the man eating from one of the boxes and the woman drinking from a bottle. "let's see how it tastes," i said. i selected an orange-colored box. the lid dissolved at the touch of my fingers. the only contents were small cubes of a soft orange substance. i tasted a small piece. "chocolate! just like chocolate!" verana chose a nearby bottle and drank some of the bluish liquid. "milk!" she exclaimed. "perhaps we'd better look at the other rooms," i told her. * * * * * the next room we examined was obviously for recreation. containers were filled with dozens of strange games and books of instructions in the form of simple drawings. the games were foreign, but designed in such a fashion that they would be interesting to earthmen. two of the rooms were sleeping quarters. the floors were covered with a spongy substance and the lights were dim and soothing. another room contained a small bathing pool, running water, waste-disposal units and yellow cakes of soap. the last room was an observatory. the ceiling and an entire wall were transparent. outside, the stars shone clearly for a few seconds, then disappeared for an equal time, only to reappear in a different position. "hyper-space drive," verana whispered softly. she was fascinated by the movement of the stars. for years, our scientists had sought a hyperspatial drive to conquer the stars. we selected a comfortable chair facing the transparent wall, lit cigarettes and waited. a few minutes later, marie entered the room. i noticed with some surprise that her face was calm. if she was excited, her actions didn't betray it. she sat next to verana. "what happened?" my wife asked. marie crossed her legs and began in a rambling manner as if discussing a new recipe, "that was really a surprise, wasn't it? i was scared silly, at first. that room was dark and i didn't know what to expect. something touched my head and i heard a telepathic voice--" "telepathic?" verana interrupted. "yes. well, this voice said not to worry and that it wasn't going to hurt me. it said it only wanted to learn something about us. it was the _oddest_ feeling! all the time, this voice kept talking to me in a nice way and made me feel at ease ... and at the same time, i felt _something_ search my mind and gather information. i could actually _feel_ it search my memories!" "what memories?" i inquired. she frowned with concentration. "memories of high school mostly. it seemed interested in english and history classes. and then it searched for memories of our customs and lives in general...." * * * * * kane stalked into the room at that moment, his face red with anger. "_do you know where we are?_" he demanded. "when those damned aliens got me in that room, they explained what this is all about. we're guinea pigs!" "did they use telepathy to explain?" verana asked. i suddenly remembered that she was a member of a club that investigated extra-sensory perception with the hope of learning how it operated. she was probably sorry she hadn't been contacted telepathically. "yeah," kane replied. "i saw all sorts of mental pictures and they explained what they did to us. those damned aliens want us for their zoo!" "start at the beginning," i suggested. he flashed an angry glance at me, but seemed to calm somewhat. "this ship was made by a race from another galaxy. thousands of years ago, they came to earth in their spaceships when men were primitives living in caves. they wanted to know what our civilization would be like when we developed space flight. so they put this ship on the moon as a sort of booby-trap. they put it there with the idea that when we made spaceships and went to the moon, sooner or later, we'd find the ship and enter it--_like rabbits in a snare!_" "and now the booby-trap is on its way home," i guessed. "yeah, this ship is taking us to their planet and they're going to keep us there while they study us." "how long will the trip take?" i asked. "six months. we'll be bottled up in this crate for six whole damned months! and when we get there, we'll be prisoners!" marie's hypnotic spell was fading and once more her face showed the terror inside her. "don't feel so bad," i told kane. "it could be worse. it should be interesting to see an alien race. we'll have our wives with us--" "maybe they'll dissect us!" marie gasped. verana scoffed. "a race intelligent enough to build a ship like this? a race that was traveling between the stars when we were living in caves? dissection is primitive. they won't _have to_ dissect us in order to study us. they'll have more advanced methods." "maybe we can reach the ship's controls somehow," kane said excitedly. "we've got to try to change the ship's course and get back to the moon!" "it's impossible. don't waste your time." the voice had no visible source and seemed to fill the room. * * * * * verana snapped her fingers. "so that's why the aliens read marie's mind! they wanted to learn our language so they could talk to us!" kane whirled in a complete circle, glaring at each of the four walls. "where are you? _who_ are you?" "i'm located in a part of the ship you can't reach. i'm a machine." "is anyone else aboard besides ourselves?" "no. i control the ship." although the voice spoke without stilted phrases, the tone was cold and mechanical. "what are your--your masters going to do with us?" marie asked anxiously. "you won't be harmed. my masters merely wish to question and examine you. thousands of years ago, they wondered what your race would be like when it developed to the space-flight stage. they left this ship on your moon only because they were curious. my masters have no animosity toward your race, only compassion and curiosity." i remembered the way antigravity rays had shoved miller from the ship and asked the machine, "why didn't you let our fifth member board the ship?" "the trip to my makers' planet will take six months. there are food, oxygen and living facilities for four only of your race. i had to prevent the fifth from entering the ship." "come on," kane ordered. "we'll search this ship room by room and we'll find some way to make it take us back to earth." "it's useless," the ship warned us. for five hours, we minutely examined every room. we had no tools to force our way through solid metal walls to the engine or control rooms. the only things in the ship that could be lifted and carried about were the containers of food and alien games. none were sufficiently heavy or hard enough to put even a scratch in the heavy metal. * * * * * six rooms were open to our use. the two rooms in which the kanes had been imprisoned were locked and there were no controls or locks to work on. the rooms that we could enter were without doors, except the ones that opened into the corridor. after intensive searching, we realized there was _no way_ to damage the ship or reach any section other than our allotted space. we gave up. the women went to the sleeping compartments to rest and kane i went to the "kitchen." at random, we sampled the variously colored boxes and bottles and discussed our predicament. "trapped," kane said angrily. "trapped in a steel prison." he slammed his fist against the table top. "but there must be a way to get out! every problem has a solution!" "you sure?" i asked. "what?" "_does_ every problem have a solution? i don't believe it. some problems are too great. take the problem of a murderer in our civilization: john doe has killed someone and his problem is to escape. primarily, a murderer's problem is the same principle as ours. a murderer has to outwit an entire civilization. we have to outwit an entire civilization that was hundreds of times more advanced than ours is now when we were clubbing animals and eating the meat raw. damned few criminals get away these days, even though they've got such crowds to lose themselves in. all we have is a ship that we can't control. i don't think we have a chance." my resignation annoyed him. each of us had reacted differently: kane's wife was frightened, verana was calm because of an inner serenity that few people have, i was resigned and kane was angry. * * * * * for several minutes, we sampled the different foods. every one had a distinctive flavor, comparable to that of a fruit or vegetable on earth. kane lifted a brown bottle to his lips, took a huge gulp and almost choked. "whiskey!" "my masters realized your race would develop intoxicants and tried to create a comparable one," the machine explained. i selected a brown bottle and sampled the liquid. "a little stronger than our own," i informed the machine. we drank until kane was staggering about the room, shouting insults at the alien race and the mechanical voice that seemed to be everywhere. he beat his fist against a wall until blood trickled from bruised knuckles. "please don't hurt yourself," the machine pleaded. "_why?_" kane screamed at the ceiling. "why should you care?" "my masters will be displeased with me if you arrive in a damaged condition." kane banged his head against a bulkhead; an ugly bruise formed rapidly. "shtop me, then!" "i can't. my masters created no way for me to restrain or contact you other than use of your language." it took fully fifteen minutes to drag kane to his sleeping compartment. after i left kane in his wife's care, i went to the adjoining room and stretched out on the soft floor beside verana. i tried to think of some solution. we were locked in an alien ship at the start of a six months' journey to a strange planet. we had no tools or weapons. solution? i doubted if two dozen geniuses working steadily for years could think of one! i wondered what the alien race was like. intelligent, surely: they had foreseen our conquest of space flight when we hadn't even invented the wheel. that thought awed me--somehow they had analyzed our brains thousands of years ago and calculated what our future accomplishments would be. they had been able to predict our scientific development, but they hadn't been able to tell how our civilization would develop. they were curious, so they had left an enormously elaborate piece of bait on the moon. the aliens were incredibly more advanced than ourselves. i couldn't help thinking, _and to a rabbit in a snare, mankind must seem impossibly clever_. i decided to ask the machine about its makers in the "morning." * * * * * when i awoke, my head was throbbing painfully. i opened my eyes and blinked several times to make sure they were functioning properly. i wasn't in the compartment where i had fallen asleep a few hours before. i was tied to one of the chairs in the "kitchen." beside me, verana was bound to a chair by strips of cloth from her skirt, and across from us, marie was secured to another chair. kane staggered into the room. although he was visibly drunk, he appeared more sober than the night before. his dark hair was rumpled and his face was flushed, but his eyes gleamed with a growing alertness. "awake, huh?" "what have you done, harry?" his wife screamed at him. her eyes were red with tears and her lips twisted in an expression of shame when she looked at him. "obvious, isn't it? while all of you were asleep, i conked each of you on the head, dragged you in here and tied you up." he smiled crookedly. "it's amazing the things a person can do when he's pickled. i'm sorry i had to be so rough, but i have a plan and i knew you wouldn't agree or cooperate with me." "what's your plan?" i asked. he grinned wryly and crinkled bloodshot eyes. "i don't want to live in a zoo on an alien planet. i want to go home and prove my theory that this problem has a solution." i grunted my disgust. "the solution is simple," he said. "we're in a trap so strong that the aliens didn't establish any means to control our actions. when men put a lion in a strong cage, they don't worry about controlling the lion because the lion can't get out. we're in the same basic situation." "so what?" verana queried in a sarcastic tone. "the aliens want us transported to their planet so they can examine and question us. right?" "right." "ed, remember that remark the machine made last night?" "what remark?" "it said, '_my_ masters will be displeased with _me_ if you arrive in a damaged condition.' what does that indicate to you?" * * * * * i assumed a baffled expression. i didn't have the slightest idea of what he was driving at and i told him so. "ed," he said, "if you could build an electronic brain capable of making decisions, how would you build it?" "hell, i don't know," i confessed. "well, if i could build an electronic brain like the one running this ship, i'd build it with a _conscience_ so it'd do its best at all times." "machines always do their best," i argued. "come on, untie us. i'm getting a crick in my back!" i didn't like the idea of being slugged while asleep. if kane had been sober and if his wife hadn't been present, i would have let him know exactly what i thought of him. "_our_ machines always do their best," he argued, "because we punch buttons and they respond in predetermined patterns. but the electronic brain in this ship isn't automatic. it makes decisions and i'll bet it even has to decide how much energy and time to put into each process!" "so what?" he shrugged muscular shoulders. "so this ship is operated by a thinking, conscientious machine. it's the first time i've encountered such a machine, but i think i know what will happen. i spent hours last night figuring--" "what are you talking about?" i interrupted. "are you so drunk that you don't know--" "i'll show you, ed." he walked around the table and stood behind my chair. i felt his thick fingers around my throat and smelled the alcohol on his breath. "can you see me, machine?" he asked the empty air. "yes," the electronic brain replied. "watch!" kane tightened his fingers around my throat. verana and marie screamed shrilly. my head seemed to swell like a balloon; my throat gurgled painfully. "please stop," the machine pleaded. "what will your masters think of you if i kill all of us? you'll return to them with a cargo of dead people!" * * * * * the machine didn't answer. i waited for the electronic brain to interfere and, with a cold knot in my stomach, realized the machine had said it had no way to control our actions! "your purpose won't be fulfilled, will it?" kane demanded. "not if you return with dead specimens!" "no," the machine admitted. "if you don't take us back to the moon," kane threatened, "i'll kill _all of us_!" the alien electronic brain was silent. by this time, i couldn't see and kane's voice was a hollow, faraway thing that rang in my ears. i tugged at my bindings, but they only tightened as i struggled. "if you take us back to the moon, your masters will never know you failed in your mission. they won't know you failed because you won't bring them proof of your failure." my fading consciousness tried to envision the alien mechanical brain as it struggled with the problem. "look at it this way," kane persisted. "if you carry our corpses to your masters, all your efforts will have been useless. if you return us to the moon alive, you'll still have a chance to carry out your mission later." a long silence followed. verana and marie screamed at kane to let go. a soft darkness seemed to fill the room, blurring everything, drowning even their shrieks in strangling blackness. "you win," the machine conceded. "i'll return the ship to the moon." kane released his grip on my throat. "see?" he asked. "didn't i tell you every problem has a solution?" i didn't answer. i was too busy enjoying breathing again. luna escapade _by h. b. fyfe_ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from orbit volume 1 number 2, 1953. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [sidenote: _she was just a crazy brat--or was she?_] [illustration] with over an hour to go before he needed to start braking for his landing on luna, pete dudley sat at the controls of the rocket freighter and tried to think of anything else that needed checking after his spinning the ship. he drummed absently with the fingers of his right hand upon the buckle of the seat strap which restrained him from floating out of the padded acceleration seat. "let's see, tail's right out there in front. i got the angle perfect. guess everything's okay." he noticed his fingers drumming, and stopped. "cut that out!" he told himself. "get nervous now and jack'll be sending some other vacuum on the next mars run. there's ericsson dead center in the screen, waiting for you to plop down beside the domes. you couldn't miss a crater that size if you tried." he leaned back and stared speculatively at the curving tip of the lunar rockies that ended in one of the largest craters on the far side of luna. his eyes squinted slightly and there was a crease between them, as if he spent much time peering into instruments. there were deeper lines beside his mouth, but the thin lips and pointed chin neutralized that evidence of frequent smiling. "are we nearly there?" dudley's brown eyes opened so wide that the whites gleamed in the dim light from his instruments. then he shut them tightly and shook his head quickly. he had thought he heard a woman's voice, and of course he couldn't have. freight rockets were checked out of terran spaceports with only a pilot aboard. a lonely job for a man, but it was really only a way of keeping in practice. he made six round trips to luna a year, but the big one was the three-month kick to mars. then he smelled the perfume, so out of place in the machine-crowded compartment. he turned around slowly. she stood with one hand gripping the lead of a computing machine to keep her feet on the deck. dudley stared her up and down two or three times before he realized his mouth hung open. slim and about five-feet-four, she looked like a nice little girl making her first disastrous experiments with adult make-up. the slack suit of deep blue, revealing a soft white blouse at the neck of the jacket, was in the best of taste, but her heavy application of lipstick was crude. _and her hair isn't naturally ash-blonde_, dudley thought. _yet she looks like such a kid. not pretty, but she might be in a few years._ "what are you doing here?" he demanded harshly. for a second, her eyes were scared. then the expression was supplanted by a hard, make-believe confidence, leaving him merely with a fading sense of shame at his tone. "same as you," she said boldly. "going to luna." dudley snorted. "then relax," he growled, "because i can't stop you now. where the devil did you spend the last thirty-six hours?" she tried a grin. "in the little room where the things are that pump the air. i sneaked in the galley once, when you were asleep. did you miss anything?" "no," he admitted, thinking back. "see? i'm not enough trouble to be noticed!" dudley eyed her sourly. there was trouble behind this somewhere, he was willing to bet, or else why had she stowed away? running from a family fight? when the port checkers at ericsson saw her--! "how old are you, kid?" he asked. "twenty-one." the answer was too pat and quickly given. even the girl seemed to realize that, and she continued talking. "my name's kathi foster. you're the next mars pilot, according to the schedule, aren't you?" "what about it?" she let go of the cable and pushed her weightless body across the control room to his chair. "what's it like on mars?" she asked breathlessly. _what does she expect me to tell her?_ dudley wondered cynically. _that the whole population of the colony is only about four thousand? that they still live mostly on hope, dreams, and regular rocket service? that every one of them represents such a fantastic transportation expense that the commission only sends top-notch people?_ "it's pretty tough," he said. she hesitated over his unhelpful reply, then plunged ahead. "how about taking me along to see for myself?" dudley smiled with one corner of his mouth. "you're not going anywhere except back to terra on the next rocket," he predicted flatly. "and i hope your father still has enough hair on his head to own a hair-brush!" "my father is dead." "then your--." he paused as she shook her head. "well, don't you have any family? jobs on luna are ... limited. the settlements just aren't very big. you're better off down home." kathi's half-defiant, half-wheedling mask cracked. her over-painted lips twitched. "what do you know about where i'm better off? if you knew the kind of family i have--." "oh, calm down!" grunted dudley, somewhat discomforted by the sight of tears spilling from her blue eyes. "things are never as bad as you think when you're just a ... when you're young. when we land, we can say you got left aboard by mistake. they'll just send you back without any trouble." "like hell they will! i won't go!" dudley stared hard at her, until she dropped her gaze. "you don't understand," she said more quietly. "i ... my family has been kicking me around the law courts all my life just because my grandfather left me his money. they're all trying to get their hands on it, or on me to back up their claims. do you realize i'm eight--i'm twenty-one and i never lived a happy day in my life? i'd rather _die_ than go back!" "yeah, sure," said dudley. "what did you really do to make you so scared of going back? smack up grandpop's helicopter, maybe, or flunk out of school?" "no, i got sick and tired of being shoved around. i wanted to get away someplace where i could be myself." "why didn't you buy a ticket on a passenger rocket, if you had such an urge to visit luna?" "my aunts and uncles and cousins have all my money tied up in suits." he leaned back by pushing the edge of the control desk. "pretty fast with the answers, aren't you?" he grinned. "i wonder what you'll think up for the spaceport police when _they_ ask you?" "you don't believe--," she began. he shook his head and to avoid further argument he picked up his sliderule, muttering something about checking his landing curve. actually, he was not as convinced as he pretended that her story was all lies. _but what the hell?_ he thought. _i have my own troubles without worrying because some blonde little spiral thinks she can go dramatic over a family spat. she'd better learn that life is full of give and take._ "you better get attached to something around here," he warned her when the time came for serious deceleration. "i ... i could go back where i was," she stammered. he suddenly realized that for the past hour she had silently accepted his ignoring her. she asked now, "what happens next?" "we cut our speed and come down on the tail as near to the domes of the ericsson settlement as possible without taking too much of a chance. then i secure everything for the towing." "towing? i'm sorry; i never read much about the moon rockets." "natural enough," dudley retorted dryly. "anyway, they send out big cranes to lower the rocket to horizontal so they can tow it on wheels under one of the loading domes. handling cargo goes a lot faster and safer that way. most of the town itself is underground." he began warming up his tele-screen prior to asking the spaceport for observation of his approach. kathi grabbed his elbow. "of course i'm going to talk with them," he answered her startled question. "can they see me here behind you?" "i guess so. maybe not too clear, but they'll see somebody's with me. what's the difference? it'll just save them a shock later." "why should they see me at all? i can hide till after you leave the ship, and--." "fat chance!" grunted dudley. "forget it." "please, dudley! i--i don't want to get you in any trouble, for one thing. at least, let me get out of sight now. maybe you'll change your mind before we land." he looked at her, and the anxiety seemed real enough. knowing he was only letting her postpone the unpleasantness but reluctant to make her face it, he shrugged. "all right, then! go somewhere and wipe that stuff off your face. but stop dreaming!" he waited until she had disappeared into one or another of the tiny compartments behind the control room, then sent out his call to the lunar settlement. the problem did not affect his landing; in fact, he did better than usual. his stubby but deft fingers lacked their ordinary tendency to tighten up, now that part of his mind was rehearsing the best way to explain the presence of an unauthorized passenger. in the end, when he had the rocket parked neatly on the extremities of its fins less than a quarter of a mile from one of the port domes, he had not yet made up his mind. "nice landing, pete," the ground observer told him. "buy you a drink later?" "uh ... yeah, sure!" dudley answered. "say, is jack fisher anywhere around?" "jack? no, i guess he's gone bottom level. we're having 'night' just now, you know. why? what do you want a cop for?" suddenly, it was too difficult. _if she could hide as long as she did, she could have done it all the way_, he told himself. "oh, don't wake him up if he's asleep," he said hastily. "i just thought i'd have dinner with him sometime before i leave." he waited sullenly while the great self-propelled machines glided out over the smooth floor of the crater toward the ship, despising himself for giving in. _well, i just won't know anything about her_, he decided. _let her have her little fling on luna! it won't last long._ he closed the key that would guard against accidental activation of the controls and, enjoying the ability to walk even at one-sixth his normal weight, went about securing loose objects. when the space-suited figures outside signaled, he was ready for the tilt. once under the dome, he strode out through the airlock as if innocent of any thought but getting breakfast. he exchanged greetings with some of the tow crew, turned over his manifesto to the yawning checker who met him, and headed for the entrance of the tunnel to the main part of the settlement. only when he had chosen a monorail car and started off along the tunnel toward the underground city a mile away did he let himself wonder about kathi foster. "her problem now," he muttered, but he felt a little sorry for her despite his view that she needed to grow up. later in the "day," he reported to transportation headquarters. "hiya, pete!" grinned les snowdon, chief of the section. "all set for the ruby planet?" dudley grimaced. "i suppose so," he said. "left my locker mostly packed, except for what i'll need for a couple of days. when do we go out and who's the crew?" "jarkowski, campiglia, and wells. you have three days to make merry and one to sober up." "i sober fast," said dudley. snowdon shook his head in mock admiration. "nevertheless," he said, "the physical will be on the fourth morning from now. don't get in any fights over on level c--or if you do, let the girl do the punching for you! a broken finger, my boy, and you'll ruin the whole martian schedule!" "ah, go on!" dudley grinned, moving toward the door. "they can always stick you in there, and make you earn your pay again." "they're still paying me for the things i did in the old days," retorted snowdon. "until i get caught up, i'm satisfied to keep a little gravity under my butt. oh ... by the way, your pal jack fisher left a call for you. something about dinner tonight." dudley thanked him and went off to contact fisher. then he returned to the pilots' quarters for a shower and strolled along the corridors of the underground city to a lunch-room. food and water were rationed on luna, but not nearly as tightly as they would be for him during the next three months. that night, he joined fisher and his wife for dinner at the view, ericsson's chief center of escape from the drabness of lunar life. it was the only restaurant, according to the boast of its staff, where one could actually dine under the stars. "sometimes i wish that dome wasn't so transparent," said fisher. "sit down, the girls will be back in a minute." dudley eyed him affectionately. fisher was head of the settlement's small police force, but managed to look more like the proprietor of one of the several bars that flourished in the levels of the city just under the restaurant. he was heavy enough to look less than his six feet, and his face was as square as the rest of him. dark hair retreated reluctantly from his forehead, and the blue eyes set peering above his pudgy cheeks were shrewd. "girls?" asked dudley. "we brought along a new arrival to keep you company," said fisher. "she works in one of the film libraries or something like that." [illustration] _which means that's as good an excuse as any for having her at ericsson_, thought dudley. _anyway, i'm glad jack is the sort to be realistic about things like bars and other ... recreation. there'd be more guys turning a little variable from too much time in space without some outlet._ "here she comes with myra," said his host. "name's eileen." dudley smiled at mrs. fisher and was introduced to the red-haired girl with her. eileen eyed him speculatively, then donned her best air of friendliness. the evening passed rapidly. for the next few days, besides seeing the fishers and looking up the men who were to be his crew, dudley spent a lot of time with eileen. there seemed to be little difficulty about her getting time off from whatever her official duties were. she showed him all the bars and movie theatres and other amusements that the underground city could boast, and dudley made the most of them in spite of his recent visit to terra. on the mars-bound rocket, they would be lucky, if allowed one deck of cards and half a dozen books for the entertainment of the four of them. it was on the "evening" of his third day that the specter haunting the back of his mind pushed forward to confront him. he had listened for gossip, but there had been no word of the discovery of an unauthorized arrival. then, as he was taking eileen to her underground apartment, he heard his name called. there she was, with an escort of three young men he guessed to be operators of the machinery that still drilled out new corridors in the rock around the city. somehow she had exchanged the black slack suit for a bright red dress that was even more daring than eileen's. in the regulated temperature, clothing was generally light, but dudley's first thought was that this was overdoing a good thing. "may i have a word with you, dudley?" kathi asked, coming across the corridor while her young men waited with shifting feet and displeased looks. dudley glanced helplessly at eileen, wondering about an introduction. he had never bothered to learn her last name, and he had no idea of what name kathi was using. the redhead had pity on him. "my door's only a few yards down," she said. "i'll wait." she swept kathi with a glance of amused confidence and walked away. it seemed to dudley that she made sure the three young men followed her with their eyes; but then he was kicking off for mars within twenty-four hours, so he could hardly object to that. "have you changed your mind?" demanded kathi with a fierce eagerness. "not so loud!" hushed dudley. "about what? and how did you get that rig?" had he been less dismayed at her presence, he might have remarked that the tight dress only emphasized her immaturity, but she gave him no time to say more. "about mars, dudley. can't you take me? i'm afraid those illegitimate blood-suckers are going to send after me. they could sniff out which way a nickel rolled in a coal-bin." "aren't you just a shade young for that kind of talk?" "i guess i'm a little frightened," she admitted. "you frighten me, too," he retorted. "how are you ... i mean, what do you--?" she tossed her blonde hair. "there are ways to get along here, i found out. i didn't get arrested this time, did i? so why can't you take a chance with me to mars?" "take an eclipse on that," said dudley with a flat sweep of his hand. "it's just out of the question. for one thing, there are four of us going, and you can't hide for the whole trip without _somebody_ catching on." "all right," she said quietly. "why not?" "what do you mean, 'why not?'" "i'm willing to earn my passage. what if there _are_ four of you?" for a long moment, dudley discovered things about himself, with the sudden realization that the idea appealed to some suppressed part of his mind. he had never kidded himself about being a saint. the thing had possibilities. _maybe one of the others can be talked into restraint into her._ he snapped out of it. "don't be a little fool!" he grated. "if you want my advice, you'll--." "well, i _don't_ want your goddam advice! if you're too yellow to try it, i'll find somebody else. there'll be another rocket after yours, you know. maybe they'll have a _man_ on it!" he felt his face go white and then flush as he stared at her. he did not know what to say. she looked like a child, but the outburst was more than a mere tantrum. _sounds as if she's never been crossed before_, he thought. _i ought to haul off and slap a little self-restraint into her._ instead, he beckoned to the three men, who had been edging closer with aggrieved expressions. "how about taking your girl friend along?" he said flatly. one of them took her by the elbow and tried to murmur something in her ear, but kathi shook him off. "if you are afraid for your license, dudley, i'll say i hid without your knowing it. i'll say one of the others let me in. please, dudley. i'm sorry i talked to you like that." she was making a fool of him, and of herself, he decided. and in another minute, she would spill the whole thing, the way she was sounding off. and her friends were beginning to look hostile as it was. "what's the trouble?" asked one of them. "nothing that won't clear up if you pour a couple of drinks into her," said dudley disgustedly. he walked away, and they held her from following. "_dudley!_" she yelled after him. "they'll send me back! please, dudley. i won't go. you remember what i said about going back--." her voice was getting too shrill. someone in the group must have put his hand over her mouth, for when dudley looked back, they were rounding a corner of the corridor more or less silently. eileen waited in the half-open door, watching him quizzically. "friend of yours?" she drawled. "after a fashion," admitted dudley, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead. "spoiled brat!" he fumbled in a pocket of his jacket, and withdrew a small package. "here's the bracelet that matches that necklace," he said. "i knew i had it in my locker somewhere." her thanks were very adequate. "aren't you coming in?" eileen asked after the pause. "no ... i don't ... i have to get a good night's sleep, you know. we kick off tomorrow." she pursed her lips in a small pout, but shrugged. "then look me up when you get back, pete." "yeah. sure." he kissed her quickly and walked away, drumming the fingers of his right hand against his thigh. except for the tenseness of blasting off and landing, the round trip to mars was as boring as he expected. campiglia won too many chess games at one move per watch, and the deck of cards wore out. for a few days, wells had a slightly infected finger after cutting himself, but it was a small crisis. the layover on mars was short, and the thrill was no longer new. dudley was glad to step out of the big rocket on luna. they had come in during the sleeping period at ericsson, so the four of them had gone to their quarters for a few hours of sleep after the first babble of welcome from those on duty when they landed. dudley was awakened by jack fisher. "so early?" he grunted, squinting at his watch. "what brings you around?" fisher settled his bulk in the only chair of the bedroom that was to be dudley's until his next terra-bound rocket. "liable to be busy today," he said easily, "so i thought i'd have breakfast with you." "fine!" said dudley. "wait'll i shave and i'll be with you." when he returned from the bathroom, he thought that he had perfect control of his features. there might not be anything wrong, but it seemed odd that jack should be around so soon. he wondered if the kathi foster affair was in the background. they went up a few levels to a minor eating place and had scrambled eggs that almost tasted natural. over the coffee, fisher opened up. "had a little excitement while you were gone," he said. "yeah? what?" fisher let him wait while he carefully unwrapped the half-smoked remains of a cigar. tobacco in any form was strictly rationed in all lunar settlements. "ever hear of old robert forgeron?" he asked. "the one they used to call 'robber' forgeron?" "that's right. he had so many patents on airlock mechanisms and space-suit gadgets and rocket control instruments that he made the goddamnedest fortune ever heard of out of space exploration. died a few years ago." dudley maintained a puzzled silence. "seems the old man had strong ideas about that fortune," continued fisher. "left the bulk of it to his only granddaughter." "that must have made headlines," dudley commented. "sure did." fisher had the cigar going, now, and he puffed economically upon it. "especially when she ran away from home." "oh?" dudley felt it coming. "where to?" "here!" fisher held his cigar between thumb and forefinger and examined it fondly. "said her name was kathi foster instead of kathi forgeron. after they got around to guessing she was on luna, and sent descriptions, we picked her up, of course. shortly after you kicked off for mars, in fact." dudley was silent. the other's shrewd little eyes glinted bluely at him through the cigar smoke. "how about it, pete? i've been trying to figure how she got here. if it was you, you needn't worry about the regulations. there was some sort of litigation going on, and all kinds of relatives came boiling up here to get her. all the hullabaloo is over by now." dudley took a deep breath, and told his side of the story. fisher listened quietly, nodding occasionally with the satisfaction of one who had guessed the answer. "so you see how it was, jack. i didn't really believe the kid's story. and she was so wild about it!" fisher put out his cigar with loving care. "got to save the rest of this for dinner," he said. "yes, she was wild, in a way. you should hear--well, that's in the files. before we were sure who she was, snowdon put her on as a secretary in his section." "she didn't look to me like a typist," objected dudley. "oh, she wasn't," said fisher, without elaborating. "i suppose if she _was_ a little nuts, she was just a victim of the times. if it hadn't been for the sudden plunge into space, old forgeron wouldn't have made such a pile of quick money. then his granddaughter might have grown up in a normal home, instead of feeling she was just a target. if she'd been born a generation earlier or later, she might have been okay." dudley thought of the girl's pleading, her frenzy to escape her environment. "so i suppose they dragged her back," he said. "which loving relative won custody of the money?" "that's still going on," fisher told him. "it's tougher than ever, i hear, because she didn't go down with them. she talked somebody into letting her have a space-suit and walked out to the other side of the ringwall. all the way to the foothills on the other side." dudley stared at him in mounting horror. fisher seemed undisturbed, but the pilot knew his friend better than that. it could only mean that the other had had three months to become accustomed to the idea. he was tenderly tucking away the stub of his cigar. "wasn't so bad, i guess," he answered dudley's unspoken question. "she took a pill and sat down. couple of rock-tappers looking for ore found her. frozen stiff, of course, when her batteries ran down." dudley planted his elbows on the table and leaned his head in his hands. "i should have taken her to mars!" he groaned. "she tried that on you, too?" fisher was unsurprised. "no, pete, it wouldn't have done any good. would've lost you your job, probably. like i said, she was born the wrong time. they won't have room for the likes of her on mars for a good many years yet." "so they hauled her back to terra, i suppose." "oh, no. the relatives are fighting that out, too. so, until the judges get their injunctions shuffled and dealt, little kathi is sitting out there viewing the rockies and the stars." he looked up at dudley's stifled exclamation. "well, it's good and cold out there," he said defensively. "we don't have any spare space around here to store delayed shipments, you know. we're waitin' to see who gets possession." dudley rose, his face white. he was abruptly conscious once more of other conversations around them, as he stalked toward the exit. "hey," fisher called after him, "that redhead, eileen, told me to ask if you're taking her out tonight." dudley paused. he ran a hand over his face. "yeah, i guess so," he said. he went out, thinking, _i should have taken her. the hell with regulations and jack's theories about her being born too soon to be useful on mars. she might have straightened out._ he headed for the tunnel that led to the loading domes. ericsson was a large crater, over a hundred miles across and with a beautifully intact ringwall, so it took him some hours, even with the tractor he borrowed, to go as far as the edge of the crater. jack fisher was waiting for him in the surface dome when he returned hours later. "welcome back," he said, chewing nervously on his cigar. "i was wondering if we'd have to go looking for you." he looked relieved. "how did she look?" he asked casually, as dudley climbed out of his space suit in the locker room. dudley peeled off the one-piece suit he had worn under the heating pads. he sniffed. "chee-rist, i need a shower after that.... she looked all right. pretty cute, in a way. like she was happy here on luna." he picked up towel and soap. "so i fixed it so she could stay," he added. "what do you mean?" he looked at fisher. "are you asking as a friend or as a cop?" "what difference does it make?" asked fisher. "well, i don't think you could have tracked me with your radar past the ringwall, so maybe i just went for a ride and a little stroll, huh? you didn't see me bring back a shovel, did you?" "no," said fisher, "i didn't see you bring it back. but some people are going to get excited about this, pete. where did you bury her?" "blood-suckers!" said dudley. "let them get excited! luna is full of mysteries." "all right," said fisher. "for my own curiosity, then, i'm asking as a friend." "i found a good place," said dudley. "i kind of forget where, in the middle of all those cliffs and rills, but it had a nice view of the stars. they'll never find her to take her back! i think i owed her that much." "ummm," grunted fisher. as dudley entered the shower, the other began to unwrap a new cigar, a not-displeased expression settling over his square, pudgy face. under the slow-falling streams of warm water, dudley gradually began to relax. he felt the stiffness ease out of his jaw muscles. he turned off the bubbling water before he could begin imagining he was hearing a scared voice pleading again for passage to mars.... the laboratorians by edward peattie _playing "napoleon" can get to be a habit, especially when a man is devoted to pure science. which was dr. whitemarsh's devotion--until dr. sally chester came along!_ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, may 1955. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "yeah, we drop in just three c.c. from this here tube," said rocco as he expertly twirled the erlenmeyer flask and watched the color shoot past the methyl orange end-point. whitemarsh was annoyed and said so. "that's the sixth straight you've missed, and the acid comes out of the burette, not the tube; and you don't call the graduations c.c., you call them milliliters." "yeah? well, here we call it a tube!" "and why don't you go down to the end-point drop by drop?" "because the book don't say so! that's why! you technos make me sick. here we do all the blasted work, and you try to tell us how to do what we've been doing for ten years!" rocco was beginning to work himself into one of his famous rages. his bull neck was beginning to redden; his eyes started to flash. his entire squat body started to quiver. whitemarsh wasn't impressed. over at the atomic plant, phobus's quercus mountain, he had bossed a pretty quarrelsome crew of isotope wranglers. he had never dodged a fight in his life. but this was in a chemical laboratory and it surprised him to hear the assistants talk back. the only assistants he had ever known were clear-eyed youths taking a year away from their studies to recoup their tuition money and who tried to copy everything the chemists did. but whitemarsh was new to the interspatial research center on the moon, and he still could not figure why the assistants acted as they did. so he waited. rocco banged the flask down on the stone bench, glared at whitemarsh for an instant, and then rushed out of the laboratory, muttering a few obscenities. "queer place this," mused whitemarsh, filling up another flask and finishing the titration himself. "here the helpers tell the chemists what to do and get mad if we ask them what they're doing." he started to look over rocco's notes and ruefully decided all the work would have to be done over again. he was interrupted when a girl opened the door. in the week he had been stationed at irc, he had been introduced to so many scientists that he had forgotten most of the names, but he remembered all the girls. his former atomic plant at quercus mountain had had all too few for him not to appreciate them now. miss sally chester was a statuesque chemist with long blonde hair and a luscious figure which she hid under a white lab robe. he managed to stammer some sort of greeting. "why dr. whitemarsh!" she seemed somewhat puzzled. "you're not actually working with your hands?" "i sure am, unless we're both space struck. why not?" "well, i suppose it's all right other places, here we let the laboratorians do all the manual work. it's sort of their privilege." "yes, but their technique's lousy. i sat here this afternoon and watched that blow-hard rocco muff six straight end-points in a row and when i asked him how come, he blew his top!" she laughed at that. she sat down on the lab desk and said, "you're absolutely right. antonio rocco's color blind and always misses his methyl orange end-points. and he's been doing them for ten years. but it hurts his feelings to be criticized, you should have been more diplomatic. he's probably gone to complain to his boss!" "his boss? aren't we his bosses? on this sheet he's listed as my assistant." "actually yes. but traditionally the shop foreman is the leader of the laboratorians. he certifies them to see that they know their work, signs their time cards and tells them when to take time off. of course we outline the work they do, check their results and write reports from their data. normally we come into the lab as little as possible." "but sally, how the hell do we know that their results are right? this mixed-up outfit is in the hands of a bunch of left-handed prima donnas who don't know beilstein from budweiser!" she smiled again (and he thought of the ads for stargleam toothpaste). "let's go over to the scientists' snack bar and get a cup of coffee, and i'll tell you a little about the history of this laboratory." so he let her lead him out of the individual laboratory into the pastel blue corridor where they followed the spiral runways to the glass enclosed snack bar. here they sat on pale leather chairs and looked out over the expanse of the central laboratory. from where he sat, he could see a square mile of magnificent equipment: serpentine condensers, enormous distillation columns, molecular stills, ultra-centrifuges, electron microscopes, all were spread out before him. surrounding the central laboratory were the innumerable railings of the corridors leading to the individual offices. upstairs and downstairs strolled scientists and laboratorians respectively, all obviously contented. he turned to face miss chester who was lolling in the chair beside him. she had poured him a cup of coffee, given him a plate of rolls and was ready to talk. she reminded him that in 2005 it was found necessary to build research laboratories on the moon to avoid the guided meteorites which the aliens had been hurling toward the earth. since there had also been a shortage of trained scientists, it was necessary to train apprentices to operate the complicated laboratory equipment ... to perform the operations without bothering themselves with the theory. the laboratorians were needed and they did a good job running specification tests on all the equipment necessary for the interplanetary war. after the war, the interspatial corporation had made it the central research laboratory, since this had been the largest aggregation of instruments ever gathered together, and in the ten intervening years, the numbers of college-trained scientists had increased almost ten-fold. as long as the laboratorians confined their work to the equipment they were familiar with, they were unbeatable. to guide them they had the book, as the technical manual of the interspatial corporation was known, and the laboratorians followed its procedures to the letter. "but they don't know _why_ they're doing things," whitemarsh interrupted. "the manual's been in need of revision for the last five years, and research workers don't use the same tests all the time!" "well that's right," admitted sally without disagreement. "i usually have my particular laboratory instructions mimeotyped and bound in a little book. i've also got the instructions so fixed that if they do things wrong, i can catch them. and i've learned not to modify my instructions orally. that only confuses the men and results in chaos. with a little planning, you can get good work done, and if you don't mind humoring their whims a little, there's no reason why you can't get along with them." whitemarsh wasn't so sure. he had no objections to jollying his subordinates, but he did draw the line at sloppy lab technique. he escorted miss chester to her own office, thanked her for the briefing, and then started to worry on his own. he took the speed elevator up to dr. sheridan's office. the laboratory director was sympathetic. he looked at the broad-shouldered young giant, dr. whitemarsh, and reflected that this man was rated the most promising scientist the interspatial corporation ever had. "you're damn right, whitemarsh," he told the younger man, pushing him into a chair and offering him a cigarette. "i've been here three years and spent the first two fighting the system. maybe the trouble goes back to our board of directors. they're all so proud of this shining research station on the moon, that they hate to admit that anything's wrong. they've got the laboratorians responsible to the lunar mines service--and there it stands. "so the only thing we can do is wait. lo presti the master mechanic is up for retirement next year and there's going to be a big organizational shake-up. hold tight. after that we may have a free hand." so whitemarsh thanked him and bided his time. he released rocco back to some other scientist and did his own laboratory work, even though the laboratorian council made a written protest. he also spent many hours in the excellent laboratory library, reading all the reports coming out of the lunar laboratory over the past ten years. his discoveries amazed him. theoretically the lunar lab had one of the best collections of scientific minds in the solar system. every earth university was represented on its staff. new techniques and products had poured out of the laboratory during the ten years of its existence, yet every one of these had been based on doubtful data. certain things worried him. first, notes were kept in a very cavalier manner even by the most experienced scientists. secondly, the younger chemists and physicists never had been exposed to any practical laboratory work after their student days, and consequently had no means of judging the technique of their assistants. finally, the laboratorians were apparently proud of their ignorance, displayed a contempt for "paper work" and were only too willing to fix their results if they thought they could get away with it.... he did not let his social development slide either. lunarport was far more advanced culturally than the crude settlement on phobus. here dr. whitemarsh was able to have a luxurious apartment in the new dome sector, could hear lectures and concerts, and could even indulge in winter sports such as skiing in the lava around the craters (protected of course by a heated suit and an oxygen mask.) he found miss chester a satisfactory companion for such endeavors, even though she spoke little of her private life or how she had avoided marriage in her twenty-five years. but he played a waiting game with her as well as with the lab job. he admitted to himself that a research chemist's life at lunar lab was a pleasant one, particularly if one didn't care how accurate one's results were. unfortunately, the same quirk which had driven him into science also made him suspicious of all easy methods. he had never recovered from the shock of discovering that just because a reaction worked in a book, it did not necessarily have to do so in a laboratory. * * * * * dr. whitemarsh's promotion came within five rather than six months. there was some grumbling among the older scientists, but there was not much they could do about it. kercheval, who had twelve years' service on the moon, did not have his ph.d. and did not care particularly for executive work. neither did sturtevant with a doctorate and ten years service. but others objected; even miss chester, long one of whitemarsh's defenders, felt that the older men deserved at least the chance of refusal. (it never occurred to whitemarsh that she might have had some ambitions of her own.) he called the group leaders together for a conference the day after his appointment. he was now ensconced behind sheridan's desk and was not yet accustomed to having a secretary. the leaders came in grim and resentful. he wasted no words. "i'm going to reorganize the set-up to get the laboratorians under us, whether they like it or not. this sloppy technical data and unsubstantiated findings is not my idea of a good lab--nor yours, i'm sure. it's up to you to show it during the next year. meanwhile you've all been pushed up fifty dollars a month in salary. so long!" his next step was to call on lo presti. the master mechanic's office was outside the lab dome near the shaft of lunar mine no. 1. the old man had been in the preliminary selenium exploration party and never could forget the old days when he drove the men and robots to find the metal that paid for the cost of the expedition. the president of the home office, dr. barker, had never forgotten either, and lo presti was always taken care of. the 200 laboratorians probably caused him more headaches than the five thousand miners ever had, since a delegation visited him every day or so now that dr. whitemarsh was rumored in. but the lo presti knew that times change too, and realized that the brawling space adventurer did not fit into a sleek world of test tubes and retorts. ninety-five years old and arrogant as ever, he sat in his office and greeted dr. whitemarsh with a bonecrushing handshake. he offered a cigar and whitemarsh thanked him, lighting a pipe instead. "i hear from the boys you've been cracking down on them," he stated. "no more than you would if you'd been there yourself. what would you do if a driller split a core?" "why i'd give the careless sap a clout that would wake him up. but the laboratorians aren't drillers!" "that's right, but that's the way some of them are muffing their work." lo presti eyed him appraisingly. "aren't you the same whitemarsh who capped the crater on phobus last year?" "i sure am. and your laboratorians are a bevy of nice nellies compared to that mutinous bunch of space rats i had with me." "well, maybe you're the man for the job at that. the guys don't put out anymore. used to be i knew all the gang. i'd look around and see when they were goofing off. now they're all such experts, i can't tell if they're loafing or just thinking." they both laughed at that. whitemarsh thought it would be a good time to say: "i don't want to do anything to your boys for a while until i get my own gang straightened out!" "don't kid me, doc," responded lo presti, "you know when i retire you're going to move in and crack down. well i'm with you!" so they parted friends. whitemarsh went back to his office in a happy mood. true, miss chester had been avoiding him lately and he had to drink coffee by himself but he now had the foremen on his side and the front office. now was the chance to reform the laboratory. his first bombshell was the requirement that all the junior chemists should take a qualifying examination. that really caused trouble in paradise. apparently, all of the younger set had thrown away their books on graduation and remembered only their own specialties. whitemarsh, from being a pleasant companion at the snack bar who discussed skiing and spaceball, had now become an ogre of the first water. the senior chemists chuckled, since they were exempt, and the laboratorians guffawed aloud to see their harriers in turn harried. in any event there was frenzied activity in the month before the examination and the library staff did yeoman duty. and, no one had threatened to quit. at least almost no one. whitemarsh was musingly staring out of his office's plastoid window at the green eye of earth when he heard a commotion outside in the ante-room. he looked out to see sally chester, and he sensed that their relationship was less than idyllic. "let me see that egotistical ass, whitemarsh," she shouted at his secretary who cowered in silk clad finery as the white-coated valkyrie charged by. "be calm," he advised her, placing himself strategically behind his desk. "calm," she screamed, "how can i be calm when an officious busybody starts getting drunk with power and acting like a twentieth century dictator? after all i've done for this stinking lunar lab, how come that i have to take an exam in freshman chemistry?" "i thought you were exempt," began the chastened director. "sorry, your honor! your order says five years at lunarport. i've only been around this sweat shop for four years and six months. what are you going to do if i fail? throw me out and i'm moving over to campo sano with every one of our trade secrets!" "i'll get you exempted," he offered. "what, and have the other chemists cry favoritism? not on your life, you coffee-swilling judas," she yelled. "and stop grinning at me like a cheshire cat!" he did not answer. he was content only to admire her in her rage. her usually mild face was flushed through the tan and her graceful hands were tightly clenched into fists that pounded on his desk. "answer me, you moron!" she shouted. then she started to cry. within one minute the seething amazon had changed into a defenseless white-coated girl cowering in the visitor's chair, weeping bitterly. whitemarsh approached and held her hand. "listen, sally," he told her, "the only reason i was going to let you out of the test was because you know more chemistry than any of the scientists here. but go ahead and take the test; you'll get the highest grade!" she brightened, "you think so?" "know it," he affirmed gallantly, "now, how about going to the space opera at the symphorium tomorrow? kluchesky is singing in _pomme de terre_." she stiffened slightly and stood up. "listen, mr. frank whitemarsh! privately you're not a bad guy. you even had potentialities. but you're a hell of a failure as a boss and the less i see of you, the happier i'll be. good-bye!" and she was gone. whitemarsh resumed his contemplation of the earth with less interest. * * * * * the results of the examination might have been foretold. the intelligent and professionally alert junior chemists retained enough fundamentals to do well. the majority failed the questions on laboratory technique. consequently whitemarsh enlisted the aid of the older men to conduct a series of refresher lectures to bring up to date the scientific knowledge of those who failed. the laboratorians were delighted with the spectacle presented by these lectures, and loved going home at night while erstwhile bosses sat listening to dr. sturtevant discuss "the theory of washing precipitates", or to hear dr. whitemarsh talk on "balancing the redox equation." the laboratorians' happiness lasted until one day in october. that was the day that lo presti retired. the old man was given a small space ship by the corporation and a space-time chronometer by the laboratorians. then he sorrowfully said farewell. the next day the laboratorians were absorbed into research. somebody had to plan for janitor service, figure where to place time cards, design new proficiency ratings and decide on such complex matters as where the laboratorians were to hang their coats. all these services had been provided for by the miner's shop organization. whitemarsh stayed late at night for a week arranging the new payroll plan and raising the salaries somewhat. all this was handled, if not without incidents, at least without violence. even the janitors and secretaries were now part of a team. all but miss chester. she had stopped speaking to whitemarsh in the halls and had been seen in the company of a younger (and whitemarsh felt) better looking physicist. then whitemarsh dropped his second bombshell. the junior chemists were ordered to rate the laboratorians for proficiency! fresh from six months' study under such taskmasters as whitemarsh and kercheval, the chastened scientists were now able to interpret the antics of their tormentors of yesterday. an old tradition had fallen and the howls extended back to the front office on earth. for a change, miss chester did not object. she was evidently past all comment. she merely wrote out a list of the faults and virtues of all her assistants, rated them all excellent and went back to her research. but rocco was tried and found incapable of running titrations. harry crowe was found to be weighing incorrectly, zachary had been fixing his calculations for the last ten years and even faithful bruno had been found to be adding 15 to all of his iodine numbers in order to pass the specs easier. it suddenly occurred to every one that all the laboratory's reports were based on incorrect data. all work stopped for a week until the scientists found what their assistants had been trying to do all along. and the results were a bit terrifying. when kercheval found that an incorrectly calibrated reflectometer had negated five years of his pet project, he tore up his notebooks, flung them on the floor and stalked into whitemarsh's office. "frank, i'm taking my back vacations and going to venus to forget it all for about six months. and mind you, when i get back i don't want to see my present assistants. i'm going to start from scratch." he left, banging the door. next was sturtevant. "frank, we've got to get interstellar review to hold my last paper. i want to recheck the melting points of some of those diazo compounds." then came the young physicist, dr. slezak, who was rumored to be miss chester's present skiing companion. "dr. whitemarsh," he stammered, "i'm not sure about the data on my last report." "didn't you take it all yourself?" "yes, but i used some of kercheval's data for my fundamental calculations and, if that's wrong, all my conclusions may not be valid." "stop worrying," whitemarsh told him. "when kercheval recalculates his values, you can revise your own report. as long as your own work is right, you have nothing to worry about." the young man left, nervously wringing his hands. whitemarsh couldn't see what sally saw in him. he figured she ought to be along by now. she was. "i told you so," sally said theatrically. "you've got the whole lab mistrusting each other. all the chemists are quarreling like mad and the laboratorians all look like whipped dogs. you've pulled the chair right out from under everything and you sit here gloating." "relax, sally," he told her. "they're just growing pains. take it easy and ride out the storm.... now, how about tearing over to lunar 7 to see the crucial spaceball series between the space rangers and the callisto satellites?" she looked horrified. "i'm afraid you don't take hints very well. i'm not interested in going anywhere with you. actually, i'm going with jack slezak to see 'nova of the leprous soul', and i might suggest a fit subject." she flounced out again and whitemarsh felt lost. he tried to cheer himself with a book on _hyper plutonium elements_. the transition took longer than whitemarsh had bargained for. after the laboratorians were re-educated, and a tiresome process it was, chemists went over the notebooks to look for inaccuracies, doubtful data was examined, all microfilms had to be edited and corrected; and they found that most of the chemicals developed at the laboratory in the past decade had been founded on doubtful data. but since all of them had passed the development group, whitemarsh didn't think it was wise to try to recall them. but new products scheduled for release were re-examined and retested after the fundamental work on them was checked. finally the problems were unscrambled and the laboratory began to run smoothly again. the research projects were reestablished and the work started out anew. frayed tempers were soothed and the scientists finally got around to trusting each others' results again. the laboratorians were now carefully but tactfully watched by the junior chemists who, in turn, were spending more time in the laboratories and less in their offices. when the new, sound results started grinding forth, whitemarsh permitted himself a sigh of relief. lunar lab had lost its individuality, he admitted, even though the easy-going camaraderie he had noticed when he first came was also gone. the results of lunar research lab of interspatial were now as reliable as those of the _campo sano_ and _roque_ laboratories back on earth. but it had been a hard fight. none of the chemists ever stopped around his office any more for small talk about sports and politics. his secretary brought him coffee in his sanctum sanctorum and he did not find himself wandering around the laboratory as he had formerly done. when he did, there was usually a restrained silence and a suspicious neatness. miss chester was apparently irrevocably lost and there were rumors of an engagement with the brilliant dr. slezak. though he had won the day, he had lost something too. the lab was now able to turn out results, but frank whitemarsh had paid a personal price for its new efficiency. * * * * * almost a year after taking over as research director, sheridan, now a vice president, brought him some news. "get ready to pack, frank," he told the younger man as they sat and smoked in the director's office watching the clouds moving over the earth. "the front office like what i did?" asked whitemarsh puffing on his pipe. "well." there was a slight pause. "all the scientists on the board are behind you to a man. but the business men, the advertising boys and accountants, well ... you know how they are." "what's eating them?" "the lab didn't release any new products this past year. development and even advertising are pretty much slowed down." "that's right. we've got some good products about ready, but we're making a final check before release. don't you think we sent out a lot of junk before?" "we sure did, even in my time though i tried to stop it. but the development boys want something, anything." "well?" asked whitemarsh. "so they'd probably rather run the risk of getting something bad than nothing at all." "they won't!" "that's right, they never will again. now, i know that the products you have ready are going to be good and i'm not worried about them. all we have to do is keep the business geniuses out of our hair for another six months." "and?" "so we're kicking you upstairs. it's a good job, don't worry about that, at three times your director's salary." "what if i quit?" "don't be that silly." "what's the other job?" "works manager at quercus mountain on phobus. sole boss of the biggest isotope works in the solar system. you'll have 50,000 men under you and have a free hand at starting any kind of laboratory you want." "no laboratorians?" "right. you can start out from scratch and make the kind of lab you've always dreamed of. here we're thinking of pushing up kercheval if it's all right with you, you always rated him highly. it's just like changing spaceball managers. we all know the space sox won the pennant last year on the team developed by kanter even though balhiser was manager. these wolves will keep off our tail until the new products start coming through and then we'll say we knew it all along." "you've got me half convinced not to quit," said whitemarsh quietly. "now listen frank," came back sheridan just as seriously, "you're too good a man to waste. now take your promotion like a nice boy and keep in line." "i still think i did a good job here." "so do i, but the board of directors can't forgive those retractions, even though you and i know they're necessary. they don't know what scientific truth and pride are. within ten years, on the foundations you laid, we'll have the best research record in the country...." after sheridan had left, whitemarsh cast a last look at his former domain. he called kercheval in to give him the news and then tell him to keep quiet until verified. then he decided to take a last tour around the laboratories. he finally found himself up at the snack bar and his eyes were taking the same look over the laboratory that they had done two years before. the view looked about the same. he had supervised the installation of a new matter probe over in the front center and he was responsible for the atom analyzer, but these were only minor changes. the major change, he thought bitterly, is that no one speaks to me unless spoken to--i've become a pariah. never tamper with the status quo, it disturbs too many people. it's a very lonely job. there was no one else in the snack bar. at least, almost no one else. he heard a discreet cough behind him. he turned and found miss chester seated behind him. she had her legs crossed, a cup of coffee in one hand and the space news want-ads in the other. "hello, napoleon," she greeted him. "have you just been surveying your empire? did you see the stern men of science jumping through the hoops out there? can you remember the happy place this was a year ago when you came? then the laboratorians took pride in their work; now they're flunkies for the green kids fresh from alma mater!" "stop it, sally," he told her. "you're not too far wrong on that napoleon business. i'm taking off for my new st. helena, quercus mountain on phobus." "quercus mountain? that's a big place. lab director?" "no. works manager." "heaven help the poor atomic workers!" "don't be that harsh. dammit! sally, maybe i am a napoleon, but scientific accuracy is too important to play fast and loose with, the way they were around here. you know it. you're the only one who didn't relax that vigilance--who saw to it that everything you turned out was without error. i know now that i forgot the human equation--that i was so eager for errorless research that i trod pretty roughshod over a lot of people. but you're guilty too, you know, you had the secret--you managed to balance the equation when everyone else here didn't. why didn't you help me? sure, you came in and ranted and raved at me--called me all sorts of names, but you didn't help me, you didn't try to show me the way." "i--" "let me finish," he interrupted her. "i love you, you know--have for a long, long, time. i still need help, sally. i don't want to keep playing napoleon and going into exile over and over again. a bigger job with more men under me isn't the answer. when a man is lonely it makes him hard and cruel in circumstances like that. i made all of you here relearn scientific facts, i need to relearn the humanities...." he paused for a moment. "sally, will you teach me?" her eyes were bright with unshed tears and a catch in her throat made the words husky and half-whispered. "i wanted to help--i love you too--but i thought you were arrogant and didn't need me--" she swallowed, controlling a sob. "i'll make it up to you, darling. you won't be alone again--on phobus or anywhere else in the galaxy." transcriber's note: this etext was produced from _astounding science fiction_ september 1955. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. subscript characters are shown within {braces}. [illustration] scrimshaw _the old man just wanted to get back his memory--and the methods he used were gently hellish, from the viewpoint of the others...._ by murray leinster illustrated by freas pop young was the one known man who could stand life on the surface of the moon's far side, and, therefore, he occupied the shack on the big crack's edge, above the mining colony there. some people said that no normal man could do it, and mentioned the scar of a ghastly head-wound to explain his ability. one man partly guessed the secret, but only partly. his name was sattell and he had reason not to talk. pop young alone knew the whole truth, and he kept his mouth shut, too. it wasn't anybody else's business. the shack and the job he filled were located in the medieval notion of the physical appearance of hell. by day the environment was heat and torment. by night--lunar night, of course, and lunar day--it was frigidity and horror. once in two weeks earth-time a rocketship came around the horizon from lunar city with stores for the colony deep underground. pop received the stores and took care of them. he handed over the product of the mine, to be forwarded to earth. the rocket went away again. come nightfall pop lowered the supplies down the long cable into the big crack to the colony far down inside, and freshened up the landing field marks with magnesium marking-powder if a rocket-blast had blurred them. that was fundamentally all he had to do. but without him the mine down in the crack would have had to shut down. the crack, of course, was that gaping rocky fault which stretches nine hundred miles, jaggedly, over the side of the moon that earth never sees. there is one stretch where it is a yawning gulf a full half-mile wide and unguessably deep. where pop young's shack stood it was only a hundred yards, but the colony was a full mile down, in one wall. there is nothing like it on earth, of course. when it was first found, scientists descended into it to examine the exposed rock-strata and learn the history of the moon before its craters were made. but they found more than history. they found the reason for the colony and the rocket landing field and the shack. the reason for pop was something else. the shack stood a hundred feet from the big crack's edge. it looked like a dust-heap thirty feet high, and it was. the outside was surface moondust, piled over a tiny dome to be insulation against the cold of night and shadow and the furnace heat of day. pop lived in it all alone, and in his spare time he worked industriously at recovering some missing portions of his life that sattell had managed to take away from him. he thought often of sattell, down in the colony underground. there were galleries and tunnels and living-quarters down there. there were air-tight bulkheads for safety, and a hydroponic garden to keep the air fresh, and all sorts of things to make life possible for men under if not on the moon. but it wasn't fun, even underground. in the moon's slight gravity, a man is really adjusted to existence when he has a well-developed case of agoraphobia. with such an aid, a man can get into a tiny, coffinlike cubbyhole, and feel solidity above and below and around him, and happily tell himself that it feels delicious. sometimes it does. but sattell couldn't comfort himself so easily. he knew about pop, up on the surface. he'd shipped out, whimpering, to the moon to get far away from pop, and pop was just about a mile overhead and there was no way to get around him. it was difficult to get away from the mine, anyhow. it doesn't take too long for the low gravity to tear a man's nerves to shreds. he has to develop kinks in his head to survive. and those kinks-the first men to leave the colony had to be knocked cold and shipped out unconscious. they'd been underground--and in low gravity--long enough to be utterly unable to face the idea of open spaces. even now there were some who had to be carried, but there were some tougher ones who were able to walk to the rocketship if pop put a tarpaulin over their heads so they didn't have to see the sky. in any case pop was essential, either for carrying or guidance. * * * * * sattell got the shakes when he thought of pop, and pop rather probably knew it. of course, by the time he took the job tending the shack, he was pretty certain about sattell. the facts spoke for themselves. pop had come back to consciousness in a hospital with a great wound in his head and no memory of anything that had happened before that moment. it was not that his identity was in question. when he was stronger, the doctors told him who he was, and as gently as possible what had happened to his wife and children. they'd been murdered after he was seemingly killed defending them. but he didn't remember a thing. not then. it was something of a blessing. but when he was physically recovered he set about trying to pick up the threads of the life he could no longer remember. he met sattell quite by accident. sattell looked familiar. pop eagerly tried to ask him questions. and sattell turned gray and frantically denied that he'd ever seen pop before. all of which happened back on earth and a long time ago. it seemed to pop that the sight of sattell had brought back some vague and cloudy memories. they were not sharp, though, and he hunted up sattell again to find out if he was right. and sattell went into panic when he returned. nowadays, by the big crack, pop wasn't so insistent on seeing sattell, but he was deeply concerned with the recovery of the memories that sattell helped bring back. pop was a highly conscientious man. he took good care of his job. there was a warning-bell in the shack, and when a rocketship from lunar city got above the horizon and could send a tight beam, the gong clanged loudly, and pop got into a vacuum-suit and went out the air lock. he usually reached the moondozer about the time the ship began to brake for landing, and he watched it come in. he saw the silver needle in the sky fighting momentum above a line of jagged crater-walls. it slowed, and slowed, and curved down as it drew nearer. the pilot killed all forward motion just above the field and came steadily and smoothly down to land between the silvery triangles that marked the landing place. instantly the rockets cut off, drums of fuel and air and food came out of the cargo-hatch and pop swept forward with the dozer. it was a miniature tractor with a gigantic scoop in front. he pushed a great mound of talc-fine dust before him to cover up the cargo. it was necessary. with freight costing what it did, fuel and air and food came frozen solid, in containers barely thicker than foil. while they stayed at space-shadow temperature, the foil would hold anything. and a cover of insulating moondust with vacuum between the grains kept even air frozen solid, though in sunlight. at such times pop hardly thought of sattell. he knew he had plenty of time for that. he'd started to follow sattell knowing what had happened to his wife and children, but it was hearsay only. he had no memory of them at all. but sattell stirred the lost memories. at first pop followed absorbedly from city to city, to recover the years that had been wiped out by an axe-blow. he did recover a good deal. when sattell fled to another continent, pop followed because he had some distinct memories of his wife--and the way he'd felt about her--and some fugitive mental images of his children. when sattell frenziedly tried to deny knowledge of the murder in tangier, pop had come to remember both his children and some of the happiness of his married life. even when sattell--whimpering--signed up for lunar city, pop tracked him. by that time he was quite sure that sattell was the man who'd killed his family. if so, sattell had profited by less than two days' pay for wiping out everything that pop possessed. but pop wanted it back. he couldn't prove sattell's guilt. there was no evidence. in any case, he didn't really want sattell to die. if he did, there'd be no way to recover more lost memories. sometimes, in the shack on the far side of the moon, pop young had odd fancies about sattell. there was the mine, for example. in each two earth-weeks of working, the mine-colony nearly filled up a three-gallon cannister with greasy-seeming white crystals shaped like two pyramids base to base. the filled cannister would weigh a hundred pounds on earth. here it weighed eighteen. but on earth its contents would be computed in carats, and a hundred pounds was worth millions. yet here on the moon pop kept a waiting cannister on a shelf in his tiny dome, behind the air-apparatus. it rattled if he shook it, and it was worth no more than so many pebbles. but sometimes pop wondered if sattell ever thought of the value of the mine's production. if he would kill a woman and two children and think he'd killed a man for no more than a hundred dollars, what enormity would he commit for a three-gallon quantity of uncut diamonds? * * * * * but he did not dwell on such speculation. the sun rose very, very slowly in what by convention was called the east. it took nearly two hours to urge its disk above the horizon, and it burned terribly in emptiness for fourteen times twenty-four hours before sunset. then there was night, and for three hundred and thirty-six consecutive hours there were only stars overhead and the sky was a hole so terrible that a man who looked up into it--what with the nagging sensation of one-sixth gravity--tended to lose all confidence in the stability of things. most men immediately found it hysterically necessary to seize hold of something solid to keep from falling upward. but nothing felt solid. everything fell, too. wherefore most men tended to scream. but not pop. he'd come to the moon in the first place because sattell was here. near sattell, he found memories of times when he was a young man with a young wife who loved him extravagantly. then pictures of his children came out of emptiness and grew sharp and clear. he found that he loved them very dearly. and when he was near sattell he literally recovered them--in the sense that he came to know new things about them and had new memories of them every day. he hadn't yet remembered the crime which lost them to him. until he did--and the fact possessed a certain grisly humor--pop didn't even hate sattell. he simply wanted to be near him because it enabled him to recover new and vivid parts of his youth that had been lost. otherwise, he was wholly matter-of-fact--certainly so for the far side of the moon. he was a rather fussy housekeeper. the shack above the big crack's rim was as tidy as any lighthouse or fur-trapper's cabin. he tended his air-apparatus with a fine precision. it was perfectly simple. in the shadow of the shack he had an unfailing source of extreme low temperature. air from the shack flowed into a shadow-chilled pipe. moisture condensed out of it here, and co{2} froze solidly out of it there, and on beyond it collected as restless, transparent liquid air. at the same time, liquid air from another tank evaporated to maintain the proper air pressure in the shack. every so often pop tapped the pipe where the moisture froze, and lumps of water ice clattered out to be returned to the humidifier. less often he took out the co{2} snow, and measured it, and dumped an equivalent quantity of pale-blue liquid oxygen into the liquid air that had been purified by cold. the oxygen dissolved. then the apparatus reversed itself and supplied fresh air from the now-enriched fluid, while the depleted other tank began to fill up with cold-purified liquid air. outside the shack, jagged stony pinnacles reared in the starlight, and craters complained of the bombardment from space that had made them. but, outside, nothing ever happened. inside, it was quite different. working on his memories, one day pop made a little sketch. it helped a great deal. he grew deeply interested. writing-material was scarce, but he spent most of the time between two particular rocket-landings getting down on paper exactly how a child had looked while sleeping, some fifteen years before. he remembered with astonishment that the child had really looked exactly like that! later he began a sketch of his partly-remembered wife. in time--he had plenty--it became a really truthful likeness. the sun rose, and baked the abomination of desolation which was the moonscape. pop young meticulously touched up the glittering triangles which were landing guides for the lunar city ships. they glittered from the thinnest conceivable layer of magnesium marking-powder. he checked over the moondozer. he tended the air apparatus. he did everything that his job and survival required. ungrudgingly. then he made more sketches. the images to be drawn came back more clearly when he thought of sattell, so by keeping sattell in mind he recovered the memory of a chair that had been in his forgotten home. then he drew his wife sitting in it, reading. it felt very good to see her again. and he speculated about whether sattell ever thought of millions of dollars' worth of new-mined diamonds knocking about unguarded in the shack, and he suddenly recollected clearly the way one of his children had looked while playing with her doll. he made a quick sketch to keep from forgetting that. there was no purpose in the sketching, save that he'd lost all his young manhood through a senseless crime. he wanted his youth back. he was recovering it bit by bit. the occupation made it absurdly easy to live on the surface of the far side of the moon, whether anybody else could do it or not. sattell had no such device for adjusting to the lunar state of things. living on the moon was bad enough anyhow, then, but living one mile underground from pop young was much worse. sattell clearly remembered the crime pop young hadn't yet recalled. he considered that pop had made no overt attempt to revenge himself because he planned some retaliation so horrible and lingering that it was worth waiting for. he came to hate pop with an insane ferocity. and fear. in his mind the need to escape became an obsession on top of the other psychotic states normal to a moon-colonist. but he was helpless. he couldn't leave. there was pop. he couldn't kill pop. he had no chance--and he was afraid. the one absurd, irrelevant thing he could do was write letters back to earth. he did that. he wrote with the desperate, impassioned, frantic blend of persuasion and information and genius-like invention of a prisoner in a high-security prison, trying to induce someone to help him escape. he had friends, of a sort, but for a long time his letters produced nothing. the moon swung in vast circles about the earth, and the earth swung sedately about the sun. the other planets danced their saraband. the rest of humanity went about its own affairs with fascinated attention. but then an event occurred which bore directly upon pop young and sattell and pop young's missing years. somebody back on earth promoted a luxury passenger-line of spaceships to ply between earth and moon. it looked like a perfect set-up. three spacecraft capable of the journey came into being with attendant reams of publicity. they promised a thrill and a new distinction for the rich. guided tours to lunar! the most expensive and most thrilling trip in history! one hundred thousand dollars for a twelve-day cruise through space, with views of the moon's far side and trips through lunar city and a landing in aristarchus, plus sound-tapes of the journey and fame hitherto reserved for honest explorers! it didn't seem to have anything to do with pop or with sattell. but it did. there were just two passenger tours. the first was fully booked. but the passengers who paid so highly, expected to be pleasantly thrilled and shielded from all reasons for alarm. and they couldn't be. something happens when a self-centered and complacent individual unsuspectingly looks out of a spaceship port and sees the cosmos unshielded by mists or clouds or other aids to blindness against reality. it is shattering. a millionaire cut his throat when he saw earth dwindled to a mere blue-green ball in vastness. he could not endure his own smallness in the face of immensity. not one passenger disembarked even for lunar city. most of them cowered in their chairs, hiding their eyes. they were the simple cases of hysteria. but the richest girl on earth, who'd had five husbands and believed that nothing could move her--she went into catatonic withdrawal and neither saw nor heard nor moved. two other passengers sobbed in improvised strait jackets. the first shipload started home. fast. the second luxury liner took off with only four passengers and turned back before reaching the moon. space-pilots could take the strain of space-flight because they had work to do. workers for the lunar mines could make the trip under heavy sedation. but it was too early in the development of space-travel for pleasure-passengers. they weren't prepared for the more humbling facts of life. pop heard of the quaint commercial enterprise through the micro-tapes put off at the shack for the men down in the mine. sattell probably learned of it the same way. pop didn't even think of it again. it seemed to have nothing to do with him. but sattell undoubtedly dealt with it fully in his desperate writings back to earth. * * * * * pop matter-of-factly tended the shack and the landing field and the stores for the big crack mine. between-times he made more drawings in pursuit of his own private objective. quite accidentally, he developed a certain talent professional artists might have approved. but he was not trying to communicate, but to discover. drawing--especially with his mind on sattell--he found fresh incidents popping up in his recollection. times when he was happy. one day he remembered the puppy his children had owned and loved. he drew it painstakingly--and it was his again. thereafter he could remember it any time he chose. he did actually recover a completely vanished past. he envisioned a way to increase that recovery. but there was a marked shortage of artists' materials on the moon. all freight had to be hauled from earth, on a voyage equal to rather more than a thousand times around the equator of the earth. artists' supplies were not often included. pop didn't even ask. he began to explore the area outside the shack for possible material no one would think of sending from earth. he collected stones of various sorts, but when warmed up in the shack they were useless. he found no strictly lunar material which would serve for modeling or carving portraits in the ground. he found minerals which could be pulverized and used as pigments, but nothing suitable for this new adventure in the recovery of lost youth. he even considered blasting, to aid his search. he could. down in the mine, blasting was done by soaking carbon black--from co{2}--in liquid oxygen, and then firing it with a spark. it exploded splendidly. and its fumes were merely more co{2} which an air-apparatus handled easily. he didn't do any blasting. he didn't find any signs of the sort of mineral he required. marble would have been perfect, but there is no marble on the moon. naturally! yet pop continued to search absorbedly for material with which to capture memory. sattell still seemed necessary, but-early one lunar morning he was a good two miles from his shack when he saw rocket-fumes in the sky. it was most unlikely. he wasn't looking for anything of the sort, but out of the corner of his eye he observed that something moved. which was impossible. he turned his head, and there were rocket-fumes coming over the horizon, not in the direction of lunar city. which was more impossible still. he stared. a tiny silver rocket to the westward poured out monstrous masses of vapor. it decelerated swiftly. it curved downward. the rockets checked for an instant, and flamed again more violently, and checked once more. this was not an expert approach. it was a faulty one. curving surface-ward in a sharply changing parabola, the pilot over-corrected and had to wait to gather down-speed, and then over-corrected again. it was an altogether clumsy landing. the ship was not even perfectly vertical when it settled not quite in the landing-area marked by silvery triangles. one of its tail-fins crumpled slightly. it tilted a little when fully landed. then nothing happened. pop made his way toward it in the skittering, skating gait one uses in one-sixth gravity. when he was within half a mile, an air-lock door opened in the ship's side. but nothing came out of the lock. no space-suited figure. no cargo came drifting down with the singular deliberation of falling objects on the moon. [illustration] it was just barely past lunar sunrise on the far side of the moon. incredibly long and utterly black shadows stretched across the plain, and half the rocketship was dazzling white and half was blacker than blackness itself. the sun still hung low indeed in the black, star-speckled sky. pop waded through moondust, raising a trail of slowly settling powder. he knew only that the ship didn't come from lunar city, but from earth. he couldn't imagine why. he did not even wildly connect it with what--say--sattell might have written with desperate plausibility about greasy-seeming white crystals out of the mine, knocking about pop young's shack in cannisters containing a hundred earth-pounds weight of richness. * * * * * pop reached the rocketship. he approached the big tail-fins. on one of them there were welded ladder-rungs going up to the opened air-lock door. he climbed. the air-lock was perfectly normal when he reached it. there was a glass port in the inner door, and he saw eyes looking through it at him. he pulled the outer door shut and felt the whining vibration of admitted air. his vacuum suit went slack about him. the inner door began to open, and pop reached up and gave his helmet the practiced twisting jerk which removed it. then he blinked. there was a red-headed man in the opened door. he grinned savagely at pop. he held a very nasty hand-weapon trained on pop's middle. "don't come in!" he said mockingly. "and i don't give a damn about how you are. this isn't social. it's business!" pop simply gaped. he couldn't quite take it in. "this," snapped the red-headed man abruptly, "is a stickup!" pop's eyes went through the inner lock-door. he saw that the interior of the ship was stripped and bare. but a spiral stairway descended from some upper compartment. it had a handrail of pure, transparent, water-clear plastic. the walls were bare insulation, but that trace of luxury remained. pop gazed at the plastic, fascinated. the red-headed man leaned forward, snarling. he slashed pop across the face with the barrel of his weapon. it drew blood. it was wanton, savage brutality. "pay attention!" snarled the red-headed man. "a stickup, i said! get it? you go get that can of stuff from the mine! the diamonds! bring them here! understand?" pop said numbly: "what the hell?" the red-headed man hit him again. he was nerve-racked, and, therefore, he wanted to hurt. "move!" he rasped. "i want the diamonds you've got for the ship from lunar city! bring 'em!" pop licked blood from his lips and the man with the weapon raged at him. "then phone down to the mine! tell sattell i'm here and he can come on up! tell him to bring any more diamonds they've dug up since the stuff you've got!" he leaned forward. his face was only inches from pop young's. it was seamed and hard-bitten and nerve-racked. but any man would be quivering if he wasn't used to space or the feel of one-sixth gravity on the moon. he panted: "and get it straight! you try any tricks and we take off! we swing over your shack! the rocket-blast smashes it! we burn you down! then we swing over the cable down to the mine and the rocket-flame melts it! you die and everybody in the mine besides! no tricks! we didn't come here for nothing!" he twitched all over. then he struck cruelly again at pop young's face. he seemed filled with fury, at least partly hysterical. it was the tension that space-travel--then, at its beginning--produced. it was meaningless savagery due to terror. but, of course, pop was helpless to resent it. there were no weapons on the moon and the mention of sattell's name showed the uselessness of bluff. he'd pictured the complete set-up by the edge of the big crack. pop could do nothing. the red-headed man checked himself, panting. he drew back and slammed the inner lock-door. there was the sound of pumping. pop put his helmet back on and sealed it. the outer door opened. outrushing air tugged at pop. after a second or two he went out and climbed down the welded-on ladder-bars to the ground. he headed back toward his shack. somehow, the mention of sattell had made his mind work better. it always did. he began painstakingly to put things together. the red-headed man knew the routine here in every detail. he knew sattell. that part was simple. sattell had planned this multi-million-dollar coup, as a man in prison might plan his break. the stripped interior of the ship identified it. it was one of the unsuccessful luxury-liners sold for scrap. or perhaps it was stolen for the journey here. sattell's associates had had to steal or somehow get the fuel, and somehow find a pilot. but there were diamonds worth at least five million dollars waiting for them, and the whole job might not have called for more than two men--with sattell as a third. according to the economics of crime, it was feasible. anyhow it was being done. pop reached the dust-heap which was his shack and went in the air lock. inside, he went to the vision-phone and called the mine-colony down in the crack. he gave the message he'd been told to pass on. sattell to come up, with what diamonds had been dug since the regular cannister was sent up for the lunar city ship that would be due presently. otherwise the ship on the landing strip would destroy shack and pop and the colony together. "i'd guess," said pop painstakingly, "that sattell figured it out. he's probably got some sort of gun to keep you from holding him down there. but he won't know his friends are here--not right this minute he won't." a shaking voice asked questions from the vision-phone. "no," said pop, "they'll do it anyhow. if we were able to tell about 'em, they'd be chased. but if i'm dead and the shacks smashed and the cable burnt through, they'll be back on earth long before a new cable's been got and let down to you. so they'll do all they can no matter what i do." he added, "i wouldn't tell sattell a thing about it, if i were you. it'll save trouble. just let him keep on waiting for this to happen. it'll save you trouble." another shaky question. "me?" asked pop. "oh, i'm going to raise what hell i can. there's some stuff in that ship i want." he switched off the phone. he went over to his air apparatus. he took down the cannister of diamonds which were worth five millions or more back on earth. he found a bucket. he dumped the diamonds casually into it. they floated downward with great deliberation and surged from side to side like a liquid when they stopped. one-sixth gravity. pop regarded his drawings meditatively. a sketch of his wife as he now remembered her. it was very good to remember. a drawing of his two children, playing together. he looked forward to remembering much more about them. he grinned. "that stair-rail," he said in deep satisfaction. "that'll do it!" he tore bed linen from his bunk and worked on the emptied cannister. it was a double container with a thermware interior lining. even on earth newly-mined diamonds sometimes fly to pieces from internal stress. on the moon, it was not desirable that diamonds be exposed to repeated violent changes of temperature. so a thermware-lined cannister kept them at mine-temperature once they were warmed to touchability. pop packed the cotton cloth in the container. he hurried a little, because the men in the rocket were shaky and might not practice patience. he took a small emergency-lamp from his spare spacesuit. he carefully cracked its bulb, exposing the filament within. he put the lamp on top of the cotton and sprinkled magnesium marking-powder over everything. then he went to the air-apparatus and took out a flask of the liquid oxygen used to keep his breathing-air in balance. he poured the frigid, pale-blue stuff into the cotton. he saturated it. all the inside of the shack was foggy when he finished. then he pushed the cannister-top down. he breathed a sigh of relief when it was in place. he'd arranged for it to break a frozen-brittle switch as it descended. when it came off, the switch would light the lamp with its bare filament. there was powdered magnesium in contact with it and liquid oxygen all about. he went out of the shack by the air lock. on the way, thinking about sattell, he suddenly recovered a completely new memory. on their first wedding anniversary, so long ago, he and his wife had gone out to dinner to celebrate. he remembered how she looked: the almost-smug joy they shared that they would be together for always, with one complete year for proof. pop reflected hungrily that it was something else to be made permanent and inspected from time to time. but he wanted more than a drawing of this! he wanted to make the memory permanent and to extend it-if it had not been for his vacuum suit and the cannister he carried, pop would have rubbed his hands. * * * * * tall, jagged crater-walls rose from the lunar plain. monstrous, extended inky shadows stretched enormous distances, utterly black. the sun, like a glowing octopod, floated low at the edge of things and seemed to hate all creation. pop reached the rocket. he climbed the welded ladder-rungs to the air lock. he closed the door. air whined. his suit sagged against his body. he took off his helmet. when the red-headed man opened the inner door, the hand-weapon shook and trembled. pop said calmly: "now i've got to go handle the hoist, if sattell's coming up from the mine. if i don't do it, he don't come up." the red-headed man snarled. but his eyes were on the cannister whose contents should weigh a hundred pounds on earth. "any tricks," he rasped, "and you know what happens!" "yeah," said pop. he stolidly put his helmet back on. but his eyes went past the red-headed man to the stair that wound down, inside the ship, from some compartment above. the stair-rail was pure, clear, water-white plastic, not less than three inches thick. there was a lot of it! the inner door closed. pop opened the outer. air rushed out. he climbed painstakingly down to the ground. he started back toward the shack. there was the most luridly bright of all possible flashes. there was no sound, of course. but something flamed very brightly, and the ground thumped under pop young's vacuum boots. he turned. the rocketship was still in the act of flying apart. it had been a splendid explosion. of course cotton sheeting in liquid oxygen is not quite as good an explosive as carbon-black, which they used down in the mine. even with magnesium powder to start the flame when a bare light-filament ignited it, the cannister-bomb hadn't equaled--say--t.n.t. but the ship had fuel on board for the trip back to earth. and it blew, too. it would be minutes before all the fragments of the ship returned to the moon's surface. on the moon, things fall slowly. pop didn't wait. he searched hopefully. once a mass of steel plating fell only yards from him, but it did not interrupt his search. when he went into the shack, he grinned to himself. the call-light of the vision-phone flickered wildly. when he took off his helmet the bell clanged incessantly. he answered. a shaking voice from the mining-colony panted: "we felt a shock! what happened? what do we do?" "don't do a thing," advised pop. "it's all right. i blew up the ship and everything's all right. i wouldn't even mention it to sattell if i were you." he grinned happily down at a section of plastic stair-rail he'd found not too far from where the ship exploded. when the man down in the mine cut off, pop got out of his vacuum suit in a hurry. he placed the plastic zestfully on the table where he'd been restricted to drawing pictures of his wife and children in order to recover memories of them. he began to plan, gloatingly, the thing he would carve out of a four-inch section of the plastic. when it was carved, he'd paint it. while he worked, he'd think of sattell, because that was the way to get back the missing portions of his life--the parts sattell had managed to get away from him. he'd get back more than ever, now! he didn't wonder what he'd do if he ever remembered the crime sattell had committed. he felt, somehow, that he wouldn't get that back until he'd recovered all the rest. gloating, it was amusing to remember what people used to call such art-works as he planned, when carved by other lonely men in other faraway places. they called those sculptures scrimshaw. but they were a lot more than that! the end [illustration] trouble on tycho by nelson s. bond isobar and his squeeze-pipes were the bane of the moon station's existence. but there came the day when his comrades found that the worth of a man lies sometimes in his nuisance value. [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories march 1943. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] the audiophone buzzed thrice--one long, followed by two shorts--and isobar jones pressed the stud activating its glowing scanner-disc. "hummm?" he said absent-mindedly. the selenoplate glowed faintly, and the image of the dome commander appeared. "report ready, jones?" "almost," acknowledged isobar gloomily. "it prob'ly ain't right, though. how anybody can be expected to get _anything_ right on this dagnabbed hunk o' green cheese--" "send it up," interrupted colonel eagan, "as soon as you can. sparks is making terra contact now. that is all." "that ain't all!" declared isobar indignantly. "how about my bag--?" it _was all_, so far as the d.c. was concerned. isobar was talking to himself. the plate dulled. isobar said, "nuts!" and returned to his duties. he jotted neat ditto marks under the word "clear" which, six months ago, he had placed beneath the column headed: _cond. of obs._ he noted the proper figures under the headings _sun spots_: _max freq._--_min. freq._; then he sketched careful curves in blue and red ink upon the mercator projection of earth which was his daily work sheet. this done, he drew a clean sheet of paper out of his desk drawer, frowned thoughtfully at the tabulated results of his observations, and began writing. "_weather forecast for terra_," he wrote, his pen making scratching sounds. the audiophone rasped again. isobar jabbed the stud and answered without looking. "o.q.," he said wearily. "o.q. i told you it would be ready in a couple o' minutes. keep your pants on!" "i--er--i beg your pardon, isobar?" queried a mild voice. isobar started. his sallow cheeks achieved a sickly salmon hue. he blinked nervously. "oh, jumpin' jimminy!" he gulped. "_you_, miss sally! golly--'scuse me! i didn't realize--" the dome commander's niece giggled. "that's all right, isobar. i just called to ask you about the weather in oceania sector 4b next week. i've got a swimming date at waikiki, but i won't make the shuttle unless the weather's going to be nice." "it is," promised isobar. "it'll be swell all weekend, miss sally. fine sunshiny weather. you can go." "that's wonderful. thanks so much, isobar." "don't mention it, ma'am," said isobar, and returned to his work. south america. africa. asia. pan-europa. swiftly he outlined the meteorological prospects for each sector. he enjoyed this part of his job. as he wrote forecasts for each area, in his mind's eye he saw himself enjoying such pastimes as each geographical division's terrain rendered possible. * * * * * if home is where the heart is, horatio jones--known better as "isobar" to his associates at the experimental dome on luna--was a long, long way from home. his lean, gangling frame was immured, and had been for six tedious earth months, beneath the _impervite_ hemisphere of lunar iii--that frontier outpost which served as a rocket refueling station, teleradio transmission point and meteorological base. "six solid months! six sad, dreary months!" thought isobar, "locked up in an airtight dome like--like a goldfish in a glass bowl!" sunlight? oh, sure! but filtered through ultraviolet wave-traps so it could not burn, it left the skin pale and lustreless and clammy as the belly of a toad. fresh air? pooh! nothing but that everlasting sickening, scented, reoxygenated stuff gushing from atmo-conditioning units. excitement? adventure? the romance he had been led to expect when he signed on for frontier service? bah! only a weary, monotonous, routine existence. "a pain!" declared isobar jones. "that's what it is; a pain in the stummick. not even allowed to--yeah?" it was sparks, audioing from the dome's transmission turret. he said, "hyah, jonesy! how comes with the report?" "done," said isobar. "i was just gettin' the sheets together for you." "o.q. but just bring _it_. nothing else." isobar bridled. "i don't know what you're talkin' about." "oh, no? well, i'm talking about that squawk-filled doodlesack of yours, sonny boy. don't bring that bag-full of noise up here with you." isobar said defiantly, "it ain't a doodlesack. it's a bagpipe. and i guess i can play it if i want to--" "not," said sparks emphatically, "in _my_ cubby! i've got sensitive eardrums. well, stir your stumps! i've got to get the report rolling quick today. big doings up here." "yeah? what?" "well, it's roberts and brown--" "what about 'em?" "they've gone outside to make foundation repairs." "lucky stiffs!" commented isobar ruefully. "lucky, no. stiffs, maybe--if they should meet any grannies. well, scoot along. i'm on the ether in four point sixteen minutes." "be right up," promised isobar, and, sheets in hand, he ambled from his cloistered cell toward the central section of the dome. he didn't leave sparks' turret after the sheets were delivered. instead, he hung around, fidgeting so obtrusively that riley finally turned to him in sheer exasperation. "sweet snakes of saturn, jonesy, what's the trouble? bugs in your britches?" isobar said, "h-huh? oh, you mean--oh, thanks, no! i just thought mebbe you wouldn't mind if i--well--er--" "i get it!" sparks grinned. "want to play peekaboo while the contact's open, eh? well, o.q. watch the birdie!" he twisted dials, adjusted verniers, fingered a host of incomprehensible keys. current hummed and howled. then a plate before him cleared, and the voice of the earth operator came in, enunciating with painstaking clarity: "earth answering luna. earth answering luna's call. can you hear me, luna? can you hear--?" "i can not only hear you," snorted riley, "i can see you and smell you, as well. stop hamming it, stupid! you're lousing up the earth!" the now-visible face of the earth radioman drew into a grimace of displeasure. "oh, it's _you_? funny man, eh? funny man riley?" "sure," said riley agreeably. "i'm a scream. four-alarm riley, the cosmic comedian--didn't you know? flick on your dictacoder, oyster-puss; here's the weather report." he read it. "'_weather forecast for terra, week of may 15-21_--'" "ask him," whispered isobar eagerly. "sparks, don't forget to ask him!" * * * * * riley motioned for silence, but nodded. he finished the weather report, entered the dome commander's log upon the home office records, and dictated a short entry from the luna biological commission. then: "that is all," he concluded. "o.q.," verified the other radioman. isobar writhed anxiously, prodded riley's shoulder. "ask him, sparks! go on ask him!" "oh, cut jets, will you?" snapped sparks. the terra operator looked startled. "how's that? i didn't say a word--" "don't be a dope," said sparks, "you dope! i wasn't talking to you. i'm entertaining a visitor, a refugee from a cuckoo clock. look, do me a favor, chum? can you twist your mike around so it's pointing out a window?" "what? why--why, yes, but--" "without buts," said sparks grumpily. "yours not to reason why; yours but to do or don't. will you do it?" "well, sure. but i don't understand--" the silver platter which had mirrored the radioman's face clouded as the earth operator twirled the inconoscope. walls and desks of an ordinary broadcasting office spun briefly into view; then the plate reflected a glimpse of an earthly landscape. soft blue sky warmed by an atmosphere-shielded sun ... green trees firmly rooted in still-greener grass ... flowers ... birds ... people.... "enough?" asked sparks. isobar jones awakened from his trance, eyes dulling. reluctantly he nodded. riley stared at him strangely, almost gently. to the other radioman, "o.q., pal," he said. "cut!" "cut!" agreed the other. the plate blanked out. "thanks, sparks," said isobar. "nothing," shrugged riley "_he twisted_ the mike; not me. but--how come you always want to take a squint at earth when the circuit's open, jonesy? homesick?" "sort of," admitted isobar guiltily. "well, hell, aren't we all? but we can't leave here for another six months at least. not till our tricks are up. i should think it'd only make you feel worse to see earth." "it ain't earth i'm homesick for," explained isobar. "it's--well, it's the things that go with it. i mean things like grass and flowers and trees." sparks grinned; a mirthless, lopsided grin. "we've got _them_ right here on luna. go look out the tower window, jonesy. the dome's nestled smack in the middle of the prettiest, greenest little valley you ever saw." "i know," complained isobar. "and that's what makes it even worse. all that pretty, soft, green stuff outside--and we ain't allowed to go out in it. sometimes i get so mad i'd like to--" "to," interrupted a crisp voice, "what?" isobar spun, flushing; his eyes dropped before those of dome commander eagan. he squirmed. "n-nothing, sir. i was only saying--" "i heard you, jones. and please let me hear no more of such talk, sir! it is strictly forbidden for anyone to go outside except in cases of absolute necessity. such labor as caused patrolmen brown and roberts to go, for example--" "any word from them yet, sir?" asked sparks eagerly. "not yet. but we're expecting them to return at any minute now. jones! where are _you_ going?" "why--why, just back to my quarters, sir." "that's what i thought. and what did you plan to do there?" isobar said stubbornly, "well, i sort of figured i'd amuse myself for a while--" "i thought that, too. and with _what_, pray, jones?" "with the only dratted thing," said isobar, suddenly petulant, "that gives me any fun around this dagnabbed place! with my bagpipe." * * * * * commander eagan said, "you'd better find some new way of amusing yourself, jones. have you read general order 17?" isobar said, "i seen it. but if you think--" "it says," stated eagan deliberately, "'_in order that work or rest periods of the dome's staff may not be disturbed, it is hereby ordered that the playing or practicing of all or any musical instruments must be discontinued immediately. by order of the dome commander_,' that means you, jones!" "but, dingbust it!" keened isobar, "it don't disturb nobody for me to play my bagpipes! i know these lunks around here don't appreciate good music, so i always go in my office and lock the door after me--" "but the dome," pointed out commander eagan, "has an air-conditioning system which can't be shut off. the ungodly moans of your--er--so-called musical instrument can be heard through the entire structure." he suddenly seemed to gain stature. "no, jones, this order is final! you cannot disrupt our entire organization for your own--er--amusement." "but--" said isobar. "no!" isobar wriggled desperately. life on luna was sorry enough already. if now they took from him the last remaining solace he had, the last amusement which lightened his moments of freedom-"look, commander!" he pleaded, "i tell you what i'll do. i won't bother nobody. i'll go outside and play it--" "outside!" eagan stared at him incredulously. "are you mad? how about the grannies?" isobar knew all about the grannies. the only mobile form of life found by space-questing man on earth's satellite, their name was an abbreviation of the descriptive one applied to them by the first lunar exployers: granitebacks. this was no exaggeration; if anything, it was an understatement. for the grannies, though possessed of certain low intelligence, had quickly proven themselves a deadly, unyielding and implacable foe. worse yet, they were an enemy almost indestructible! no man had ever yet brought to earth laboratories the carcass of a grannie; science was completely baffled in its endeavors to explain the composition of graniteback physiology--but it was known, from bitter experience, that the carapace or exoskeleton of the grannies was formed of something harder than steel, diamond, or battleplate! this flesh could be penetrated by no weapon known to man; neither by steel nor flame, by electronic nor ionic wave, nor by the lethal, newly discovered atomo-needle dispenser. all this isobar knew about the grannies. yet: "they ain't been any grannies seen around the dome," he said, "for a 'coon's age. anyhow, if i seen any comin', i could run right back inside--" "no!" said commander eagan flatly. "absolutely, _no_! i have no time for such nonsense. you know the orders--obey them! and now, gentlemen, good afternoon!" he left. sparks turned to isobar, grinning. "well," he said, "one man's fish--hey, jonesy? too bad you can't play your doodlesack any more, but frankly, i'm just as glad. of all the awful screeching wails--" but isobar jones, generally mild and gentle, was now in a perfect fury. his pale eyes blazed, he stomped his foot on the floor, and from his lips poured a stream of such angry invective that riley looked startled. words that, to isobar, were the utter dregs of violent profanity. "oh, dagnab it!" fumed isobar jones. "oh, tarnation and dingbust! oh--_fiddlesticks_!" ii "and so," chuckled riley, "he left, bubbling like a kettle on a red-hot oven. but, boy! was he ever mad! just about ready to bust, he was." some minutes had passed since isobar had left; riley was talking to dr. loesch, head of the dome's physics research division. the older man nodded commiseratingly. "it is funny, yes," he agreed, "but at the same time it is not altogether amusing. i feel sorry for him. he is a very unhappy man, our poor isobar." "yeah, i know," said riley, "but, hell, we all get a little bit homesick now and then. he ought to learn to--" "excuse me, my boy," interrupted the aged physicist, his voice gentle, "it is not mere homesickness that troubles our friend. it is something deeper, much more vital and serious. it is what my people call: _weltschmertz_. there is no accurate translation in english. it means 'world sickness,' or better, 'world weariness'--something like that but intensified a thousandfold. "it is a deeply-rooted mental condition, sometimes a dangerous frame of mind. under its grip, men do wild things. hating the world on which they find themselves, they rebel in curious ways. suicide ... mad acts of valor ... deeds of cunning or knavery...." "you mean," demanded sparks anxiously, "isobar ain't got all his buttons?" "not that exactly. he is perfectly sane. but he is in a dark morass of despair. he may try _anything_ to retrieve his lost happiness, rid his soul of its dark oppression. his world-sickness is like a crying hunger--by the way, where is he now?" "below, i guess. in his quarters." "ah, good! perhaps he is sleeping. let us hope so. in slumber he will find peace and forgetfulness." but dr. loesch would have been far less sanguine had some power the "giftie gi'en" him of watching isobar jones at that moment. isobar was not asleep. far from it. wide awake and very much astir, he was acting in a singularly sinister role: that of a slinking, furtive culprit. returning to his private cubicle after his conversation with dome commander eagan, he had stalked straightway to the cabinet wherein was encased his precious set of bagpipes. these he had taken from their pegs, gazed upon defiantly, and fondled with almost parental affection. "so i can't play you, huh?" he muttered darkly. "it disturbs the peace o' the dingfounded, dumblasted dome staff, does it? well, we'll _see_ about that!" and tucking the bag under his arm, he had cautiously slipped from the room, down little-used corridors, and now he stood before the huge _impervite_ gates which were the entrance to the dome and the doorway to outside. on all save those occasions when a spacecraft landed in the cradle adjacent the gateway, these portals were doubly locked and barred. but today they had been unbolted that the two maintenance men might venture out. and since it was quite possible that brown and roberts might have to get inside in a hurry, their bolts remained drawn. sole guardian of the entrance was a very bored junior patrolman. up to this worthy strode isobar jones, confident and assured, exuding an aura of propriety. "very well, wilkins," he said. "i'll take over now. you may go to the meeting." wilkins looked at him bewilderedly. "huh? whuzzat, mr. jones?" isobar's eyebrows arched. "you mean you haven't been notified?" "notified of _what_?" "why, the general council of all patrolmen! weren't you told that i would take your place here while you reported to g.h.q.?" "i ain't," puzzled wilkins, "heard nothing about it. maybe i ought to call the office, maybe?" and he moved the wall-audio. but isobar said swiftly. "that--er--won't be necessary, wilkins. my orders were plain enough. now, you just run along. i'll watch this entrance for you." "we-e-ell," said wilkins, "if you say so. orders is orders. but keep a sharp eye out, mister jones, in case roberts and brown should come back sudden-like." "i will," promised isobar, "don't worry." * * * * * wilkins moved away. isobar waited until the patrolman was completely out of sight. then swiftly he pulled open the massive gate, slipped through, and closed it behind him. a flood of warmth, exhilarating after the constantly regulated temperature of the dome, descended upon him. fresh air, thin, but fragrant with the scent of growing things, made his pulses stir with joyous abandon. he was outside! he was outside, in good sunlight, at last! after six long and dreary months! raptly, blissfully, all thought of caution tossed to the gentle breezes that ruffled his sparse hair, isobar jones stepped forward into the lunar valley.... how long he wandered thus, carefree and utterly content, he could not afterward say. it seemed like minutes; it must have been longer. he only knew that the grass was green beneath his feet, the trees were a lacy network through which warm sunlight filtered benevolently, the chirrupings of small insects and the rustling whisper of the breezes formed a tiny symphony of happiness through which he moved as one charmed. it did not occur to him that he had wandered too far from the dome's entrance until, strolling through an enchanting flower-decked glade, he was startled to hear--off to his right--the sharp, explosive bark of a haemholtz ray pistol. he whirled, staring about him wildly, and discovered that though his meandering had kept him near the dome, he had unconsciously followed its hemispherical perimeter to a point nearly two miles from the gateway. by the placement of ports and windows, isobar was able to judge his location perfectly; he was opposite that portion of the structure which housed sparks' radio turret. and the shooting? that could only be-he did not have to name its reason, even to himself. for at that moment, there came racing around the curve of the dome a pair of figures, patrolmen clad in fatigue drab. roberts and brown. roberts was staggering, one foot dragged awkwardly as he ran; brown's left arm, bloodstained from shoulder to elbow, hung limply at his side, but in his good right fist he held a spitting haemholtz with which he tried to cover his comrade's sluggish retreat. and behind these two, grim, grey, gaunt figures that moved with astonishing speed despite their massive bulk, came three ... six ... a dozen of those lunarites whom all men feared. the grannies! iii simultaneously with his recognition of the pair, joe roberts saw him. a gasp of relief escaped the wounded man. "jones! thank the lord! then you picked up our cry for help? quick, man--where is it? theres not a moment to waste!" "w-where," faltered isobar feebly, "is _what_?" "the tank, of course! didn't you hear our telecast? we can't possibly make it back to the gate without an armored car. my foot's broken, and--" roberts stopped suddenly, an abrupt horror in his eyes. "you don't have one! you're here _alone_! then you didn't pick up our call? but, why--?" "never mind that," snapped isobar, "now!" placid by nature, he could move when urgency drove. his quick mind saw the immediateness of their peril. unarmed, he could not help the patrolmen fight a delaying action against their foes, nor could he hasten their retreat. anyway, weapons were useless, and time was of the essence. there was but one temporary way of staving off disaster. "over here ... this tree! quick! up you go! give him a lift, brown--there! that's the stuff!" he was the last to scramble up the gnarled bole to a tentative leafy sanctuary. he had barely gained the security of the lowermost bough when a thundering crash resounded, the sturdy trunk trembled beneath his clutch. stony claws gouged yellow parallels in the bark scant inches beneath one kicking foot, then the granny fell back with a thud. the graniteback was _not_ a climber. it was far too ungainly, much too weighty for that. roberts said weakly, "th-thanks, jonesy! that was a close call." "that goes for me, too, jonesy," added brown from an upper bough. "but i'm afraid you just delayed matters. this tree's o.q. as long as it lasts, but--" he stared down upon the gathering knot of grannies unhappily--"it's not going to last long with that bunch of superdreadnaughts working out on it! hold tight, fellows! here they come!" for the grannies, who had huddled for a moment as if in telepathic consultation, now joined forces, turned, and as one body charged headlong toward the tree. the unified force of their attack was like the shattering impact of a battering ram. bark rasped and gritted beneath the besieged men's hands, dry leaves and twigs pelted about them in a tiny rain, tormented fibrous sinews groaned as the aged forest monarch shuddered in agony. desperately they clung to their perches. though the great tree bent, it did not break. but when it stopped trembling, it was canted drunkenly to one side, and the erstwhile solid earth about its base was broken and cracked--revealing fleshy tentacles uprooted from ancient moorings! * * * * * brown stared at this evidence of the grannies' power with terror-fascinated eyes. his voice was none too firm. "lord! piledrivers! a couple more like that--" isobar nodded. he knew what falling into the clutch of the grannies meant. he had once seen the grisly aftermath of a graniteback feast. even now their adversaries had drawn back for a second attack. a sudden idea struck him. a straw of hope at which he grasped feverishly. "you telecast a message to the dome? help should be on the way by now. if we can just hold out--" but roberts shook his head. "we sent a message, jonesy, but i don't think it got through. i've just been looking at my portable. it seems to be busted. happened when they first attacked us, i guess. i tripped and fell on it." isobar's last hope flickered out. "then i--i guess it won't be long now," he mourned. "if we could have only got a message through, they would have sent out an armored car to pick us up. but as it is--" brown's shrug displayed a bravado he did not feel. "well, that's the way it goes. we knew what we were risking when we volunteered to come outside. this damn moon! it'll never be worth a plugged credit until men find some way to fight those murderous stones-on-legs!" roberts said, "that's right. but what are _you_ doing out here, isobar? and why, for pete's sake, the bagpipes?" "oh--the pipes?" isobar flushed painfully. he had almost forgotten his original reason for adventuring outside, had quite forgotten his instrument, and was now rather amazed to discover that somehow throughout all the excitement he had held onto it. "why, i just happened to--oh! _the pipes!_" "hold on!" roared roberts. his warning came just in time. once more, the three tree-sitters shook like dried peas in a pod as their leafy refuge trembled before the locomotive onslaught of the lunar beasts. this time the already-exposed roots strained and lifted, several snapped; when the grannies again withdrew, complacently unaware that the "lethal ray" of brown's haemholtz was wasting itself upon their adamant hides in futile fury, the tree was bent at a precarious angle. brown sobbed, not with fear but with impotent anger, and in a gesture of enraged desperation, hurled his now-empty weapon at the retreating grannies. "no good! not a damn bit of good! oh, if there was only some way of fighting those filthy things--" but isobar jones had a one-track mind. "the pipes!" he cried again, excitedly. "that's the answer!" and he drew the instrument into playing position, bag cuddled beneath one arm-pit, drones stiffly erect over his shoulder, blow-pipe at his lips. his cheeks puffed, his breath expelled. the giant lung swelled, the chaunter emitted its distinctive, fearsome, "_kaa-aa-o-o-o-oro-oong!_" roberts moaned. "oh, lord! a guy can't even die in peace!" and brown stared at him hopelessly. "it's no use, isobar. you trying to scare them off? they have no sense of hearing. that's been proven--" isobar took his lips from the reed to explain. "it's not that. i'm trying to rouse the boys in the dome. we're right opposite the atmosphere-conditioning-unit. see that grilled duct over there? that's an inhalation-vent. the portable transmitter's out of order, and our voices ain't strong enough to carry into the dome--but the sound of these pipes is! and commander eagan told me just a short while ago that the sound of the pipes carries all over the building! "if they hear this, they'll get mad because i'm disobeyin' orders. they'll start lookin' for me. if they can't find me inside, maybe they'll look outside. see that window? that's sparks' turret. if we can make him look out here--" "_stop talking!_" roared roberts. "stop talking, guy, and start blowing! i think you've got something there. anyhow, it's our last hope. _blow!_" "and quick!" appended brown. "for here they come!" [illustration: _isobar played, blew with all his might, while the grannies raged below._] he meant the grannies. again they were huddling for attack, once more, a solid phalanx of indestructible, granite flesh, they were smashing down upon the tree. "_haa-a-roong!_" blew isobar jones. iv and--even he could not have foreseen the astounding results of his piping! what happened next was as astonishing as it was incomprehensible. for as the pipes, filled now and primed to burst into whatever substitute for melody they were prodded into, wailed into action--the grannies' rush came to an abrupt halt! as one, they stopped cold in their tracks and turned dull, colorless, questioning eyes upward into the tree whence came this weird and vibrant droning! so stunned with surprise was isobar that his grip on the pipes relaxed, his lips almost slipped from the reed. but brown's delighted bellow lifted his paralysis. "sacred rings of saturn-look! they _like_ it! keep playing, jonesy! play, boy, like you never played before!" and roberts roared, above the skirling of the _piobaireachd_ into which isobar had instinctively swung, "music hath charms to soothe the savage beast! then we were wrong. they _can_ hear, after all! see that? they're lying down to listen--like so many lambs! keep playing, isobar! for once in my life i'm glad to hear that lovely, wonderful music!" isobar needed no urging. he, too, had noted how the grannies' attack had stopped, how every last one of the gaunt grey beasts had suddenly, quietly, almost happily, dropped to its haunches at the base of the tree. there was no doubt about it; the grannies _liked_ this music. eyes raptly fixed, unblinking, unwavering, they froze into postures of gentle beatitude. one stirred once, dangerously, as for a moment isobar paused to catch his breath, but isobar hastily lipped the blow-pipe with redoubled eagerness, and the granny relapsed into quietude. followed then what, under somewhat different circumstances, should have been a piper's dream. for isobar had an audience which would not--and in two cases _dared_ not--allow him to stop playing. and to this audience he played over and over again his entire repertoire. marches, flings, dances--the stirring _rhoderik dhu_ and the lilting _lassies o'skye_, the mournful _coghiegh nha shie_ whose keening is like the sound of a sobbing nation. _the cock o' the north_, he played, and _mironton_ ... _wee flow'r o' dee_ and _macarthur's march_ ... _la cucuracha_ and-and his lungs were parched, his lips dry as swabs of cotton. blood pounded through his temples, throbbing in time to the drone of the chaunter, and a dark mist gathered before his eyes. he tore the blow-pipe from his lips, gasped, "keep playing!" came the dim, distant howl of johnny brown. "just a few minutes longer, jonesy! relief is on the way. sparks saw us from his turret window five minutes ago!" and isobar played on. how, or what, he did not know. the memory of those next few minutes was never afterward clear in his mind. all he knew was that above the skirling drone of his pipes there came another sound, the metallic clanking of a man-made machine ... an armored tank, sent from the dome to rescue the beleaguered trio. he was conscious, then, of a friendly voice shouting words of encouragement, of joe roberts calling a warning to those below. "careful, boys! drive the tank right up beneath us so we can hop in and get out of here! watch the grannies--they'll be after us the minute isobar stops playing!" then the answer from below. the fantastic answer in sparks' familiar voice. the answer that caused the bagpipes to slip from isobar's fingers as isobar jones passed out in a dead faint: "after you? those grannies? hell's howling acres--_those grannies are stone dead_!" * * * * * afterward, isobar jones said weakly, "but--dead? i don't understand. was it the sound-waves that killed them?" commander eagan said, "no! grannies absolutely cannot hear. that is one thing we do know about them--though we will soon know a great deal more, now that our biologists have a dozen carcasses to dissect, thanks to you. but grannies have no auditory apparatus." "but then--what?" puzzled isobar. "it couldn't be vibration, because our patrolmen tried shootin' 'em with the vibro-ray pistol, and nothin' never happened--" "nevertheless," said dr. loesch quietly, "it _was_ vibration which killed them, isobar. that is, of course, only my conjecture, but i believe subsequent study will prove i am correct. "it was the effect of _dual_, or disharmonic vibration. you see, the vibro-ray pistol expels an ultrasonic wave which disrupts molecular construction sensitive to a single harmonic. the grannies' composition is more complex. it required the impact of two different wave-lengths, impinging on their nerve centers at the same moment, to destroy them." "and the bagpipe--" said isobar with slowly dawning comprehension--"emits two distinct tones at the same time!" the full meaning of his words flashed upon isobar. he turned to commander eagan, sallow cheeks glowing with new color. "then--then what means we've licked our problem!" he cried. "we've found a weapon that'll kill the grannies, and it won't be necessary to live inside domes no more! now we can move out into the open and live like human beings!" "absolutely true!" agreed the commander. "but _you_ will not be living outside, jones. not right away, anyway." "h-uh? w-hat do you mean, commander?" "i mean," said eagan sternly, "that regardless of results, you are still guilty of flagrant disobedience to orders! that, as commander of this outpost, i cannot tolerate. you are hereby sentenced to thirty days confinement to quarters!" "but--" stammered isobar--"but tarnation golly--" "in the course of which time," continued commander eagan imperturbably, "you will serve as instructor for every man in the dome--at double salary!" "you can't _do_ me like this!" wailed isobar. "jinky-wallopers, i won't--huh? what's 'at? instructor? instructor in _what_?" "in the--er--art," said eagan, "of bagpipe playing. if we are to rid luna of the grannies, we must all learn how to perform on that--er--lethal weapon. and, jones, i think i can truthfully say that this punishment hurts me more than it hurts you!" the victor by bryce walton illustrated by kelly freas [transcriber note: this etext was produced from if worlds of science fiction march 1953. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [sidenote: _under the new system of the managerials, the fight was not for life but for death! and great was the ingenuity of--the victor._] charles marquis had a fraction of a minute in which to die. he dropped through the tubular beams of alloydem steel and hung there, five thousand feet above the tiers and walkways below. at either end of the walkway crossing between the two power-hung buildings, he saw the plainclothes security officers running in toward him. he grinned and started to release his grip. he would think about them on the way down. his fingers wouldn't work. he kicked and strained and tore at himself with his own weight, but his hands weren't his own any more. he might have anticipated that. some paralysis beam freezing his hands into the metal. he sagged to limpness. his chin dropped. for an instant, then, the fire in his heart almost went out, but not quite. it survived that one terrible moment of defeat, then burned higher. and perhaps something in that desperate resistance was the factor that kept it burning where it was thought no flame could burn. he felt the rigidity of paralysis leaving his arms as he was lifted, helped along the walkway to a security car. the car looked like any other car. the officers appeared like all the other people in the clockwork culture of the mechanized new system. marquis sought the protection of personal darkness behind closed eyelids as the monorail car moved faster and faster through the high clean air. well--he'd worked with the underground against the system for a long time. he had known that eventually he would be caught. there were rumors of what happened to men then, and even the vaguest, unsubstantiated rumors were enough to indicate that death was preferable. that was the underground's philosophy--better to die standing up as a man with some degree of personal integrity and freedom than to go on living as a conditioned slave of the state. he'd missed--but he wasn't through yet though. in a hollow tooth was a capsule containing a very high-potency poison. a little of that would do the trick too. but he would have to wait for the right time.... * * * * * the manager was thin, his face angular, and he matched up with the harsh steel angles of the desk and the big room somewhere in the security building. his face had a kind of emotion--cold, detached, cynically superior. "we don't get many of your kind," he said. "political prisoners are becoming more scarce all the time. as your number indicates. from now on, you'll be no. 5274." he looked at some papers, then up at marquis. "you evidently found out a great deal. however, none of it will do you or what remains of your underground fools any good." the manager studied marquis with detached curiosity. "you learned things concerning the managerials that have so far remained secret." it was partly a question. marquis' lean and darkly inscrutable face smiled slightly. "you're good at understatement. yes--i found out what we've suspected for some time. that the managerial class has found some way to stay young. either a remarkable longevity, or immortality. of all the social evils that's the worst of all. to deny the people knowledge of such a secret." the manager nodded. "then you did find that out? the underground knows? well, it will do no good." "it will, eventually. they'll go on and someday they'll learn the secret." marquis thought of marden. marden was as old as the new system of statism and inhumanity that had started off disguised as social-democracy. three-hundred and three years old to be exact. the manager said, "no. 5274--you will be sent to the work colony on the moon. you won't be back. we've tried re-conditioning rebels, but it doesn't work. a rebel has certain basic deviant characteristics and we can't overcome them sufficiently to make happy, well-adjusted workers out of you. however on the moon--you will conform. it's a kind of social experiment there in associative reflex culture, you might say. you'll conform all right." he was taken to a small, naked, gray-steel room. he thought about taking the capsule from his tooth now, but decided he might be observed. they would rush in an antidote and make him live. and he might not get a chance to take his life in any other way. he would try of course, but his knowledge of his future situation was vague--except that in it he would conform. there would be extreme conditioned-reflex therapeutic techniques. and it would be pretty horrible. that was all he knew. he didn't see the pellet fall. he heard the slight sound it made and then saw the almost colorless gas hissing softly, clouding the room. he tasted nothing, smelled or felt nothing. he passed out quickly and painlessly. * * * * * he was marched into another office, and he knew he was on the moon. the far wall was spherical and was made up of the outer shell of the pressure dome which kept out the frigid cold nights and furnace-hot days. it was opaque and marquis could see the harsh black and white shadows out there--the metallic edges of the far crater wall. this manager was somewhat fat, with a round pink face and cold blue eyes. he sat behind a chrome shelf of odd shape suspended from the ceiling with silver wires. the manager said, "no. 5274, here there is only work. at first, of course, you will rebel. later you will work, and finally there will be nothing else. things here are rigidly scheduled, and you will learn the routines as the conditioning bells acquaint you with them. we are completely self-sufficient here. we are developing the perfect scientifically-controlled society. it is a kind of experiment. a closed system to test to what extremes we can carry our mastery of associative reflex to bring man security and happiness and freedom from responsibility." marquis didn't say anything. there was nothing to say. he knew he couldn't get away with trying to kill this particular managerial specimen. but one man, alone, a rebel, with something left in him that still burned, could beat the system. _he had to!_ "our work here is specialized. during the indoctrination period you will do a very simple routine job in coordination with the cybernetics machines. there, the machines and the nervous system of the workers become slowly cooperative. machine and man learn to work very intimately together. later, after the indoctrination--because of your specialized knowledge of food-concentrate preparation--we will transfer you to the food-mart. the period of indoctrination varies in length with the individuals. you will be screened now and taken to the indoctrination ward. we probably won't be seeing one another again. the bells take care of everything here. the bells and the machines. there is never an error--never any mistakes. machines do not make mistakes." he was marched out of there and through a series of rooms. he was taken in by generators, huge oscilloscopes. spun like a living tube through curtains of vacuum tube voltimeters, electronic power panels. twisted and squeezed through rolls of skeins of hook-up wire. bent through shieldings of every color, size and shape. rolled over panel plates, huge racks of glowing tubes, elaborate transceivers. tumbled down long surfaces of gleaming bakelite. plunged through color-indexed files of resistors and capacitances.... _... here machine and man learn to work very intimately together._ as he drifted through the machine tooled nightmare, marquis knew _what_ he had been fighting all his life, what he would continue to fight with every grain of ingenuity. mechanization--the horror of losing one's identity and becoming part of an assembly line. he could hear a clicking sound as tubes sharpened and faded in intensity. the clicking--rhythm, a hypnotic rhythm like the beating of his own heart--the throbbing and thrumming, the contracting and expanding, the pulsing and pounding.... _... the machines and the nervous system of the workers become slowly cooperative._ * * * * * beds were spaced ten feet apart down both sides of a long gray metal hall. there were no cells, no privacy, nothing but beds and the gray metalene suits with numbers printed across the chest. his bed, with his number printed above it, was indicated to him, and the guard disappeared. he was alone. it was absolutely silent. on his right a woman lay on a bed. no. 329. she had been here a long time. she appeared dead. her breasts rose and fell with a peculiarly steady rhythm, and seemed to be coordinated with the silent, invisible throbbing of the metal walls. she might have been attractive once. here it didn't make any difference. her face was gray, like metal. her hair was cropped short. her uniform was the same as the man's on marquis' left. the man was no. 4901. he hadn't been here so long. his face was thin and gray. his hair was dark, and he was about the same size and build as marquis. his mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were closed and there was a slight quivering at the ends of the fingers which were laced across his stomach. [illustration: _when the bells rang they would arise...._] "hello," marquis said. the man shivered, then opened dull eyes and looked up at marquis. "i just got in. name's charles marquis." the man blinked. "i'm--i'm--no. 4901." he looked down at his chest, repeated the number. his fingers shook a little as he touched his lips. marquis said. "what's this indoctrination?" "you--learn. the bells ring--you forget--and learn--" "there's absolutely no chance of escaping?" marquis whispered, more to himself than to 4901. "only by dying," 4901 shivered. his eyes rolled crazily, then he turned over and buried his face in his arms. the situation had twisted all the old accepted values squarely around. preferring death over life. but not because of any anti-life attitude, or pessimism, or defeatism. none of those negative attitudes that would have made the will-to-die abnormal under conditions in which there would have been hope and some faint chance of a bearable future. here to keep on living was a final form of de-humanized indignity, of humiliation, of ignominy, of the worst thing of all--loss of one's-self--of one's individuality. to die as a human being was much more preferable over continuing to live as something else--something neither human or machine, but something of both, with none of the dignity of either. * * * * * the screening process hadn't detected the capsule of poison in marquis' tooth. the capsule contained ten grains of poison, only one of which was enough to bring a painless death within sixteen hours or so. that was his ace in the hole, and he waited only for the best time to use it. bells rang. the prisoners jumped from their beds and went through a few minutes of calisthenics. other bells rang and a tray of small tins of food-concentrates appeared out of a slit in the wall by each bed. more bells rang, different kinds of bells, some deep and brazen, others high and shrill. and the prisoners marched off to specialized jobs co-operating with various machines. you slept eight hours. calisthenics five minutes. eating ten minutes. relaxation to the tune of musical bells, ten minutes. work period eight hours. repeat. that was all of life, and after a while marquis knew, a man would not be aware of time, nor of his name, nor that he had once been human. marquis felt deep lancing pain as he tried to resist the bells. each time the bells rang and a prisoner didn't respond properly, invisible rays of needle pain punched and kept punching until he reacted properly. and finally he did as the bells told him to do. finally he forgot that things had ever been any other way. marquis sat on his bed, eating, while the bells of eating rang across the bowed heads in the gray uniforms. he stared at the girl, then at the man, 4901. there were many opportunities to take one's own life here. that had perplexed him from the start--_why hasn't the girl, and this man, succeeded in dying?_ and all the others? they were comparatively new here, all these in this indoctrination ward. why weren't they trying to leave in the only dignified way of escape left? no. 4901 tried to talk, he tried hard to remember things. sometimes memory would break through and bring him pictures of other times, of happenings on earth, of a girl he had known, of times when he was a child. but only the mildest and softest kind of recollections.... marquis said, "i don't think there's a prisoner here who doesn't want to escape, and death is the only way out for us. we know that." for an instant, no. 4901 stopped eating. a spoonful of food concentrate hung suspended between his mouth and the shelf. then the food moved again to the urging of the bells. invisible pain needles gouged marquis' neck, and he ate again too, automatically, talking between tasteless bites. "a man's life at least is his own," marquis said. "they can take everything else. but a man certainly has a right and a duty to take that life if by so doing he can retain his integrity as a human being. suicide--" no. 4901 bent forward. he groaned, mumbled "don't--don't--" several times, then curled forward and lay on the floor knotted up into a twitching ball. the eating period was over. the lights went off. bells sounded for relaxation. then the sleep bells began ringing, filling up the absolute darkness. marquis lay there in the dark and he was afraid. he had the poison. he had the will. but he couldn't be unique in that respect. what was the matter with the others? all right, the devil with them. maybe they'd been broken too soon to act. he could act. tomorrow, during the work period, he would take a grain of the poison. put the capsule back in the tooth. the poison would work slowly, painlessly, paralyzing the nervous system, finally the heart. sometime during the beginning of the next sleep period he would be dead. that would leave six or seven hours of darkness and isolation for him to remain dead, so they couldn't get to him in time to bring him back. he mentioned suicide to the girl during the next work period. she moaned a little and curled up like a fetus on the floor. after an hour, she got up and began inserting punch cards into the big machine again. she avoided marquis. marquis looked around, went into a corner with his back to the room, slipped the capsule out and let one of the tiny, almost invisible grains, melt on his tongue. he replaced the capsule and returned to the machine. a quiet but exciting triumph made the remainder of the work period more bearable. back on his bed, he drifted into sleep, into what he knew was the final sleep. he was more fortunate than the others. within an hour he would be dead. * * * * * somewhere, someone was screaming. the sounds rose higher and higher. a human body, somewhere ... pain unimaginable twisting up through clouds of belching steam ... muscles quivering, nerves twitching ... and somewhere a body floating and bobbing and crying ... sheets of agony sweeping and returning in waves and the horror of unescapable pain expanding like a volcano of madness.... somewhere was someone alive who should be dead. and then in the dark, in absolute silence, marquis moved a little. he realized, vaguely, that the screaming voice was his own. he stared into the steamy darkness and slowly, carefully, wet his lips. he moved. he felt his lips moving and the whisper sounding loud in the dark. _i'm alive!_ he managed to struggle up out of the bed. he could scarcely remain erect. every muscle in his body seemed to quiver. he longed to slip down into the darkness and escape into endless sleep. but he'd tried that. and he was still alive. he didn't know how much time had passed. he was sure of the poison's effects, but he wasn't dead. they had gotten to him in time. sweat exploded from his body. he tried to remember more. pain. he lay down again. he writhed and perspired on the bed as his tortured mind built grotesque fantasies out of fragments of broken memory. the routine of the unceasing bells went on. bells, leap up. bells, calisthenics. bells, eat. bells, march. bells, work. he tried to shut out the bells. he tried to talk to 4901. 4901 covered up his ears and wouldn't listen. the girl wouldn't listen to him. there were other ways. and he kept the poison hidden in the capsule in his hollow tooth. he had been counting the steps covering the length of the hall, then the twenty steps to the left, then to the right to where the narrow corridor led again to the left where he had seen the air-lock. after the bells stopped ringing and the darkness was all around him, he got up. he counted off the steps. no guards, no alarms, nothing to stop him. they depended on the conditioners to take care of everything. this time he would do it. this time they wouldn't bring him back. no one else could even talk with him about it, even though he knew they all wanted to escape. some part of them still wanted to, but they couldn't. so it was up to him. he stopped against the smooth, opaque, up-curving glasite dome. it had a brittle bright shine that reflected from the moon's surface. it was night out there, with an odd metallic reflection of earthlight against the naked crags. he hesitated. he could feel the intense and terrible cold, the airlessness out there fingering hungrily, reaching and whispering and waiting. he turned the wheel. the door opened. he entered the air-lock and shut the first door when the air-pressure was right. he turned the other wheel and the outer lock door swung outward. the out-rushing air spun him outward like a balloon into the awful airless cold and naked silence. his body sank down into the thick pumice dust that drifted up around him in a fine powdery blanket of concealment. he felt no pain. the cold airlessness dissolved around him in deepening darkening pleasantness. this time he was dead, thoroughly and finally and gloriously dead, even buried, and they couldn't find him. and even if they did finally find him, what good would it do them? some transcendental part of him seemed to remain to observe and triumph over his victory. this time he was dead to stay. * * * * * this time he knew at once that the twisting body in the steaming pain, the distorted face, the screams rising and rising were all charles marquis. maybe a dream though, he thought. so much pain, so much screaming pain, is not real. in some fraction of a fraction of that interim between life and death, one could dream of so much because dreams are timeless. yet he found himself anticipating, even through the shredded, dissociated, nameless kind of pain, a repetition of that other time. the awful bitterness of defeat. * * * * * he opened his eyes slowly. it was dark, the same darkness. he was on the same bed. and the old familiar dark around and the familiar soundlessness that was now heavier than the most thunderous sound. everything around him then seemed to whirl up and go down in a crash. he rolled over to the floor and lay there, his hot face cooled by the cold metal. as before, some undeterminable interim of time had passed. and he knew he was alive. his body was stiff. he ached. there was a drumming in his head, and then a ringing in his ears as he tried to get up, managed to drag himself to an unsteady stance against the wall. he felt now an icy surety of horror that carried him out to a pin-point in space. a terrible fatigue hit him. he fell back onto the bed. he lay there trying to figure out how he could be alive. he finally slept pushed into it by sheer and utter exhaustion. the bells called him awake. the bells started him off again. he tried to talk again to 4901. they avoided him, all of them. but they weren't really alive any more. how long could he maintain some part of himself that he knew definitely was charles marquis? he began a ritual, a routine divorced from that to which all those being indoctrinated were subjected. it was a little private routine of his own. dying, and then finding that he was not dead. he tried it many ways. he took more grains of the poison. but he was always alive again. "you--4901! damn you--talk to me! you know what's been happening to me?" the man nodded quickly over his little canisters of food-concentrate. "this indoctrination--you, the girl--you went crazy when i talked about dying--what--?" the man yelled hoarsely. "don't ... don't say it! all this--what you've been going through, can't you understand? all that is part of indoctrination. you're no different than the rest of us! we've all had it! all of us. all of us! some more maybe than others. it had to end. you'll have to give in. oh god, i wish you didn't. i wish you could win. but you're no smarter than the rest of us. _you'll have to give in!_" it was 4901's longest and most coherent speech. maybe i can get somewhere with him, marquis thought. i can find out something. but 4901 wouldn't say any more. marquis kept on trying. no one, he knew, would ever realize what that meant--to keep on trying to die when no one would let you, when you kept dying, and then kept waking up again, and you weren't dead. no one could ever understand the pain that went between the dying and the living. and even marquis couldn't remember it afterward. he only knew how painful it had been. and knowing that made each attempt a little harder for marquis. he tried the poison again. there was the big stamping machine that had crushed him beyond any semblance of a human being, but he had awakened, alive again, whole again. there was the time he grabbed the power cable and felt himself, in one blinding flash, conquer life in a burst of flame. he slashed his wrists at the beginning of a number of sleep periods. when he awakened, he was whole again. there wasn't even a scar. he suffered the pain of resisting the eating bells until he was so weak he couldn't respond, and he knew that he died that time too--from pure starvation. _but i can't stay dead!_ "_... you'll have to give in!_" * * * * * he didn't know when it was. he had no idea now how long he had been here. but a guard appeared, a cold-faced man who guided marquis back to the office where the fat, pink-faced little manager waited for him behind the shelf suspended by silver wires from the ceiling. the manager said. "you are the most remarkable prisoner we've ever had here. there probably will not be another like you here again." marquis' features hung slack, his mouth slightly open, his lower lip drooping. he knew how he looked. he knew how near he was to cracking completely, becoming a senseless puppet of the bells. "why is that?" he whispered. "you've tried repeatedly to--you know what i mean of course. you have kept on attempting this impossible thing, attempted it more times than anyone else here ever has! frankly, we didn't think any human psyche had the stuff to try it that many times--to resist that long." the manager made a curious lengthened survey of marquis' face. "soon you'll be thoroughly indoctrinated. you are, for all practical purposes, now. you'll work automatically then, to the bells, and think very little about it at all, except in a few stereotyped ways to keep your brain and nervous system active enough to carry out simple specialized work duties. or while the new system lasts. and i imagine that will be forever." "forever...." "yes, yes. you're immortal now," the manager smiled. "surely, after all this harrowing indoctrination experience, you realize _that_!" _immortal. i might have guessed. i might laugh now, but i can't. we who pretend to live in a hell that is worse than death, and you, the managerials who live in paradise._ we two are immortal. "that is, you're immortal as long as we desire you to be. you'll never grow any older than we want you to, never so senile as to threaten efficiency. that was what you were so interested in finding out on earth, wasn't it? the mystery behind the managerials? why they never seemed to grow old. why we have all the advantage, no senility, no weakening, the advantage of accumulative experience without the necessity of re-learning?" "yes," marquis whispered. the manager leaned back. he lit a paraette and let the soothing nerve-tonic seep into his lungs. he explained. "every one of you political prisoners we bring here want, above everything else, to die. it was a challenge to our experimental social order here. we have no objection to your killing yourself. we have learned that even the will to die can be conditioned out of the most determined rebel. as it has been conditioned out of you. you try to die enough times, and you do die, but the pain of resurrection is so great that finally it is impossible not only to kill yourself, but even to think of attempting it." marquis couldn't say anything. the memory called up by the mention of self-destruction rasped along his spine like chalk on a blackboard. he could feel the total-recall of sensation, the threatening bursts of pain. "no...." he whispered over and over. "no--please--no--" the manager said. "we won't mention it anymore. you'll never be able to try any overt act of self-destruction again." the bright light from the ceiling lanced like splinters into the tender flesh of marquis' eyeballs, danced about the base of his brain in reddened choleric circles. his face had drawn back so that his cheekbones stood out and his nose was beak-like. his irises became a bright painful blue in the reddened ovals of his eyes. the manager yawned as he finished explaining. "each prisoner entering here has an identification punch-plate made of his unique electro-magnetic vibratory field. that's the secret of our immortality and yours. like all matter, human difference is in the electro-magnetic, vibratory rates. we have these punch-plates on file for every prisoner. we have one of you. any dead human body we merely put in a tank which dissolves it into separate cells, a mass of stasis with potentiality to be reformed into any type of human being of which we have an identification punch-plate, you see? this tank of dissociated cells is surrounded by an electro-magnetic field induced from a machine by one of the identification punch-plates. that particular human being lives again, the body, its mind, its life pattern identical to that from which the original punch-plate was made. each time you have died, we reduced your body, regardless of its condition, to dissociated cells in the tank. the identification punch-plate was put in the machine. your unique electro-magnetic field reformed the cells into you. it could only be you, as you are now. from those cells we can resurrect any one of whom we have an identification plate. "that is all, no. 5274. now that you're indoctrinated, you will work from now on in the food-mart, because of your experience." * * * * * for an undeterminable length of time, he followed the routines of the bells. in the big food-mart, among the hydroponic beds, and the canning machines; among the food-grinders and little belts that dropped cans of food-concentrate into racks and sent them off into the walls. he managed to talk more and more coherently with no. 4901. he stopped referring to suicide, but if anyone had the idea that marquis had given up the idea of dying, they were wrong. marquis was stubborn. somewhere in him the flame still burned. he wouldn't let it go out. the bells couldn't put it out. the throbbing machines couldn't put it out. and now he had at last figured out a way to beat the game. during an eating period, marquis said to 4901. "you want to die. wait a minute--i'm talking about something we can both talk and think about. a murder agreement. you understand? we haven't been conditioned against killing each other. it's only an overt act of selfdes--all right, we don't think about that. but we can plan a way to kill each other." 4901 looked up. he stopped eating momentarily. he was interested. "what's the use though?" pain shadowed his face. "we only go through it--come back again--" "i have a plan. the way i have it worked out, they'll never bring either one of us back." that wasn't exactly true. _one_ of them would have to come back. marquis hoped that 4901 wouldn't catch on to the fact that he would have to be resurrected, but that marquis never would. he hoped that 4901's mind was too foggy and dull to see through the complex plan. and that was the way it worked. marquis explained. 4901 listened and smiled. it was the first time marquis had ever seen a prisoner smile. he left what remained of the capsule of poison where 4901 could get it. during one of the next four eating periods, 4901 was to slip the poison into marquis' food can. marquis wouldn't know what meal, or what can. he had to eat. the bells had conditioned him that much. and not to eat would be an overt act of self-destruction. he wasn't conditioned not to accept death administered by another. and then, after an eating period, 4901 whispered to him. "you're poisoned. it was in one of the cans you just ate." "great!" almost shouted marquis. "all right. now i'll die by the end of the next work period. that gives us this sleep period and all the next work period. during that time i'll dispose of you as i've said." 4901 went to his bed and the bells rang and the dark came and both of them slept. * * * * * number 4901 resisted the conditioners enough to follow marquis past his regular work room into the food-mart. as planned, 4901 marched on and stood in the steaming shadows behind the hydroponic beds. marquis worked for a while at the canning machines, at the big grinding vats. then he went over to 4901 and said. "turn around now." 4901 smiled. he turned around. "good luck," he said. "good luck--to you!" marquis hit 4901 across the back of the neck with an alloy bar and killed him instantly. he changed clothes with the dead man. he put his own clothes in a refuse incinerator. quickly, he dragged the body over and tossed it into one of the food-grinding vats. his head bobbed up above the gray swirling liquid once, then the body disappeared entirely, was ground finely and mixed with the other foodstuff. within eight hours the cells of 4901 would be distributed minutely throughout the contents of thousands of cans of food-concentrate. within that time much of it would have been consumed by the inmates and managers. at the end of that work period, marquis returned to his cell. he went past his own bed and stopped in front of 4901's bed. the sleep bells sounded and the dark came again. this would be the final dark, marquis knew. this time he had beat the game. the delayed-action poison would kill him. he had on 4901's clothes with his identification number. he was on 4901's bed. he would die--as 4901. the guards would finally check on the missing man in the food-mart. but they would never find him. they would find 4901 dead, a suicide. and they would put the body labeled 4901 in the tank, dissolve it into dissociated cells and they would subject those cells to the electro-magnetic field of 4901. and they would resurrect--4901. not only have i managed to die, marquis thought, but i've managed the ultimate suicide. there won't even be a body, no sign anywhere that i have ever been at all. even my cells will have been resurrected as someone else. as a number 4901. * * * * * "and that's the way it was," no. 4901 would tell new prisoners coming in. sometimes they listened to him and seemed interested, but the interest always died during indoctrination. but no. 4901's interest in the story never died. he knew that now he could never let himself die as a human being either, that he could never let himself become completely controlled by the bells. he'd been nearly dead as an individual, but no. 5274 had saved him from that dead-alive anonymity. he could keep alive, and maintain hope now by remembering what 5274 had done. he clung to that memory. as long as he retained that memory of hope--of triumph--at least some part of him would keep burning, as something had kept on burning within the heart of 5274. so every night before the sleep bells sounded, he would go over the whole thing in minute detail, remembering 5274's every word and gesture, the details of his appearance. he told the plan over to himself every night, and told everyone about it who came in to the indoctrination ward. swimming up through the pain of resurrection, he had been a little mad at 5274 at first, and then he had realized that at least the plan had enabled one man to beat the game. "he will always be alive to me. maybe, in a way, he's part of me. nobody knows. but his memory will live. he succeeded in a kind of ultimate dying--no trace of him anywhere. but the memory of him and what he did will be alive when the new system and the managers are dead. that spirit will assure the underground of victory--someday. and meanwhile, i'll keep 5274 alive. "he even knew the psychology of these managers and their system. that they can't afford to make an error. he knew they'd still have that identification punch-plate of him. that they would have one more plate than they had prisoners. but he anticipated what they would do there too. to admit there was one more identification plate than there were prisoners would be to admit a gross error. of course they could dissolve one of the other prisoners and use 5274's plate and resurrect 5274. but they'd gain nothing. there would still be an extra plate. you see? "so they destroyed the plate. he knew they would. and they also had to go back through the records, to earth, through the security files there, through the birth records, everything. and they destroyed every trace, every shred of evidence that no. 5274 ever existed." so he kept the memory alive and that kept 4901 alive while the other prisoners become automatons, hearing, feeling, sensing nothing except the bells. remembering nothing, anticipating nothing. but 4901 could remember something magnificent, and so he could anticipate, and that was hope, and faith. he found that no one really believed him but he kept on telling it anyway, the story of the plan. "maybe this number didn't exist," someone would say. "if there's no record anywhere--" 4901 would smile. "in my head, there's where the record is. _i_ know. _i_ remember." and so it was that 4901 was the only one who still remembered and who could still smile when sometime after that--no one in the prison colony knew how long--the underground was victorious, and the managerial system crumbled. corbow's theory by lee wallot _it was a terrific theory and it would send man to the stars. but the two men involved had to buck more than physical laws; and so the project was finished, over, done with. unless...._ [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, october 1956. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] "all right! so we've got it. the same problem rocket designers have been struggling with for five years. nobody's found the answer--and they never will!" bronsen corbow glared at the older man, his lips pressed tightly together to keep from giving voice to the anger mounting inside of him. mars kenton was an argumentative old fool, but the company had made him his assistant and nothing could be done about it. "they've known ever since they discovered that interstellar drive," mars continued, "that they can only make enough carbolium to send four ships a year to the end of our galaxy and back again. is it our fault they have to make the blasted stuff instead of mining it out of the ground?" the words ringing in the quiet of the laboratory seemed to pound in bronsen's ears and he found he could hold his tongue no longer. he leaned toward the older physicist and slammed his hand down on the table. "that's enough, mars. i happen to be the one in charge here, not you." his quiet voice made clear the anger he felt. "reed turned the problem over to us. i say we can lick it. just because my chief assistant is still thinking in terms of ancient history, it's no reason to send back a report from this laboratory saying we can't handle the problem." he ran a trembling hand through his close-cropped hair and swore at himself when he saw mars noticed the trembling. why did he have to start shaking every time he got mad? the person he was mad at invariably took the shaking to be fear, and he would always be forced to drive his point home all the harder in order to get the respect he demanded. mars kenton sneered. "mind telling me just how you are going to eliminate interstellar drive from our rocket ships? or have you cooked up another of your bright ideas to try out at the company's expense?" "i'm fed up with you, mars!" all control over his temper was gone now and the younger man gave full vent to his anger. his powerful body fairly bristled in his rage and in spite of himself mars was forced to cringe beneath the assailing roars that followed. "you may be twenty years older than i am; you may have been one of the pioneers in space travel; you may still be a good man if you could forget that the whole world didn't plot that accident that left you with a bad leg--but you're still taking orders from me. we have some good men in this department, and you can either keep your mouth shut and work with us or you can get out. interstellar drive isn't the only solution to space travel and the answer to the problem is going to come from this laboratory. now take your choice!" mars glared at bronsen and seethed inwardly but swung back to his work table. his right leg twitched convulsively, forcing him into a stumbling limp and he silently cursed the fate that had brought him to such a lowly existance. him! joc kenton! member of the first expedition to land on mars and successfully return to earth. and what was he now? just a second rate design consultant working in a laboratory on the moon. his water blue eyes clouded in his flood of self pity. how beautiful it had been out there ... all blackness, all majesty, the throbbing power of the rockets, the thrill of unknown adventures in the void. his rickety old heart beat faster with remembering. the scorching desolateness of mars was something he would never forget. even now he could see the miles of heat-drenched land, the thick red powder that covered the planet's crust, the stretching reaches of nothing but a barren, dead world. and then--the accident. sure, it was just an accident. how could he know that the port lid was going to break its magnetic field and slam down upon him? it had though, and he had returned an honored man, praised for his self-sacrificing adventure, then pitied because he would spend the rest of his life a crippled man. he twisted his thin, blue-veined hands together, those hands that had piloted a glittering rocket through space, those hands that had sifted through the sands of an alien world, those hands that now were white and fragile, working over drawings and plans for other ships. gone were the dreams, and with their going came the bitterness. he felt his anger melting in his own self pity, decided not to brush away the tears that gathered in his eyes and turned to his board, staring at it through blurred vision. "bong! end of round five. just wait around a minute folks, next round coming up." vern webber peered cautiously around the door as if expecting something to fly at him, then jumped into the room. his youthful face broke into a broad grin as he bowed before the chief designer. "oh great and noble mr. bronsen corbow. is it safe for your lowly servant to approach these hallowed halls in answer to your summons? mine is not to reason why--but i'd still like to leave here with my head on my shoulders." bronsen found himself smiling at his young assistant. vern, although he was twenty-four, had the spirit and air of a teenager and usually succeeded in keeping the lab in a state of high humor. the tenseness of the argument with mars dispelled itself and bronsen relaxed. "get word to the men that we are having a special meeting this afternoon, in the conference room. we're going to blow the lid right off the present concepts of space travel and really give those people out there something that will make their eyes bulge. i'll tell you more about it this afternoon." "aye, aye, sir!" vern clicked his heels, gave an exaggerated salute and was gone. bronsen glanced in returning annoyance at the snort of disgust that issued from mars' corner. that old fool and his rockets, he thought were things of the past. there was only the future now. new ideas, new methods, new successes. why couldn't mars see that? and yet, bronsen himself felt a tiny pulsing of doubt. he cursed himself for that tinge of self-distrust, but could do nothing about it. he was brilliant, he was a master of design and he knew space flight as well as he knew the shape, workings and complexities of the pencil he twirled in his hands. but what if he wasn't right? what if his new theory _was_ a flop--and with it a waste of money, time and human lives? he tore himself from his dismal thoughts with a savage determination and strode into his office. that damned mars was just getting under his skin, that's all. listen to him long enough and he'll have you thinking we should all have stayed back in the horse and buggy days. no problems of space flight then, no old beliefs, ancient ideas, stagnant prejudices to worry about then. not as far as traveling to the stars was concerned, anyway. * * * * * "first, let's review a few points i know you are all familiar with, but that you should keep in mind, starting with the beginning of space travel." bronsen ran his hand through his hair and looked over the eagerly expectant faces of his staff, considering carefully the points he had to make. "first, there were the detorium-driven rockets. fine ships that opened up the realm of travel in outer space." his voice was firm, stringent with his inner excitement, his faith in his idea. "in fact, it was just such a ship as this that joc kenton, mars to you folks, was on when they made their first landing on mars. these ships had their good points and still are excellent over short distances but certainly are of no use for intergalactic flight. they are much too slow, requiring more than a lifetime to make the trip there and back. "then came the interstellar drive, the method we are now using. this drive, utilizing carbolium which we have to manufacture, makes full use of space as a medium of travel. there's only one catch. we can make only a certain amount of carbolium, and the costs of making it are astronomical. however, no matter what the expense, the supply is limited. still, everything's fine. we use the old rockets for short distances and the interstellar drive for intergalactic trips." he paused a minute to let it sink in. "that is everything _was_ fine. as you know, we have found another planet, remarkably similar to earth in the eastrex galaxy, and have succeeded in setting up a colony there. this presents problems. for one, since we can send only four ships a year to naver, this new planet, our colonizing is going to be slowed down to a crawl. also, we will have a mighty hard time trying to get supplies and everything else that a new colony needs to naver within a reasonable length of time. in other words, what we need is a ship that will be cheap to run, fast enough to get there and get back again and also safe enough to carry passengers and cargo, even in small amounts. you've heard of this problem before; i know you've tried independently to work it out and have not had much luck. i think we might have an answer now. "how many of you have shot a rifle or are familiar with a gun?" the expectant faces had gone blank. what was he leading up to anyhow? still, a large number of hands cautiously worked their way into the air. "all right. all you have to do right now is forget about space ships and concentrate on a rifle and a bullet." there was beginning to be the muttering and stirring of a confused group of people. bronsen's muscular hands gripped the table eagerly. they were confused, but they were also interested. "you are familiar with the fields and grooves of a gun barrel," he continued, "and you know they are there to give the bullet a spin when it is fired. now what happens to a bullet when it is fired from a smooth barrel, with no grooves? it is inaccurate, wobbles, has less power and eventually turns end over end. now, take the grooved rifle barrel. the bullet is given a spin, it has many times the velocity of the other, it has a straight line accuracy due to the spiral motion--keep these last two points in mind--and providing the rifle is aimed right in the first place, will hit the target." the group was being split up into two factions, those who leaned forward expectantly once more and those who shook their heads in bafflement. "now, let's go back again to the old rockets, and also our present ones. they all use the same principle to get off the ground--blast off with rockets. but let's add a second type of blasting off area, also using rockets, but one that looks like a monstrous rifle barrel, complete to the fields and grooves. we have a launching apparatus that is like a grooved rifle compared to a smooth barreled one. the smooth barrel that we now use, the rockets taking off straight, gives good acceleration but not enough top speed. our old rockets had that fault and never could get good velocity even when in flight. our new ones take over with the interstellar drive, but we want to eliminate this last method. the spiral take off though, would give much greater velocity right from the start, would enable the ship to hit outer space with a greater speed than it could attain using the other methods and it would continue on in space at a much faster rate. the lack of friction would keep it from slowing down and if we could hit the speed we want before entering outer space, the ship could go right on at that same rate in space. there wouldn't even be need for rocket power while in actual galactic flight. the initial momentum would carry it through to its destination. the rocket could do all this because this spiral launching would give us more 'muzzle velocity', and in a given time after blast off, the spinning ship would have reached a much greater speed than the regularly fired one. this means operating cost will be confined to blast off, landing and to skirt around any sudden dangers that might arise in space. "we therefore have a ship that has the velocity of the drive and maybe more, without the cost of drive. it has safety since our old rockets proved to be remarkably accident-free and this design would actually be working on almost the same principle as the old rockets, except for the blast off. the difference in outer space would be this. the old ships used rockets throughout the trip to increase their velocity. the new ones will be traveling so fast when they enter outer space, they won't have to use any power because they will already have the velocity needed." he paused to swallow the dryness in his mouth and noticed with pleasure that more than one face was twisted in thought. good. all they have to do is be given a theory to think about, the time to do that thinking and they'd be on their way. "that's about it for now. i have some ideas of my own for the design of this ship ... and it's really surprising when you think how simple it is. but i'll save that for some other time. right now, i'd want all of you to think about it. it gets top priority. report back to me with your ideas. i think we can lick this problem and get our bread and butter, inter galactic enterprises, right on top of the pile. good luck." the meeting broke up amidst frantic discussion, wails of misunderstanding, confusion and quiet self-musings. bronsen smiled to himself, his face almost boyishly radiant in his pleasure. the seed had been planted. now all he had to do was give it time to grow and bear fruit. * * * * * vern's cry of amazement rang with reverence as he stood with bronsen looking over the first test rocket as it was slowly wheeled to the launching area. "boy-o-boy! look at that beauty! did you ever see anything like it?" the silver ship lay on its side as it approached the huge tower, but already vern could see its glistening majesty soaring through the sky. "she was a lot of work, vern. let's just keep our fingers crossed. by the way, that design of yours on the rotating cylinder inside the rocket, working independently of the rocket's forced spin, was good. tough thing to lick, but now the pilot can keep a steady 'up' and 'down' no matter how much the outside of the ship is spinning. good work." vern shrugged his shoulders. "just call me the einstein of the 23rd century, that's all. we'll all see how well everything works pretty soon now." bronsen was finding the tension beginning to build up in him. just a few more hours and his theory would be lauded with success or shattered into the dust. he peered at the rocket, at the tiny black figures of the men that were dwarfed by its size and at the giant, black tube, towering hundreds of feet high, waiting patiently to receive her first charge. the needle-nosed space craft glistened in the early morning sun, her thin beauty tantalizing to the senses of a spaceman. her lines swept gracefully back across her smooth expanse until they hit the four fin tips sweeping out from the rotating band of the tail piece, the fin tips that would fit into the slowly spiraling grooves of the launching tower. the field and groove construction first suggested by bronsen had been replaced by lands and grooves when it was found that the fewer grooves gave greater accuracy and better muzzle velocity when tested on the laboratory models. thus, there were only four fins instead of the originally planned eight. the rocket reached the lowering platform and bronsen watched in nervous anxiety as the ship was lowered into the ground tail first, then slowly began its upward ascent into the belly of the launcher. he thought of a thousand things that could happen right then, found that none of them were going to and returned to his office. the rocket was safely nestled in the launcher's belly, patiently waiting for the human crew to arrive and give it life. when they gathered about the launching field that afternoon bronsen found himself sweating in both the heat of the day and the torrid intensity of mars' insistence that the whole thing was going to be one big flop. "just one blast from those rockets and we'll all be blown into the next galaxy, without benefit of a space ship. trying to shoot a 70,000 pound rocket as if it were a toy gun. you'll learn one of these days, corbow, that the old way was still the best. it got us to mars and back and if you'd work on that instead of this, it would be good for intergalactic flight too. but no, you've got to have your name up there in print." "oh, shut up your damned mumbling, mars!" bronsen shot the words out savagely. he gave the older man a withering look and turned his attention again to the ship. the men that were to take her up had disappeared inside the expanse of the launching tower and the other figures darted back and forth, making last minute preparations. the minutes began to tick off. five minutes until blast off. four minutes. three minutes. the field was now completely devoid of human figures. two minutes. one minute. ten seconds, nine, eight. the launcher looked lonely and terrifying in its greatness and bronsen tried to wish the rocket up out of her belly by will power alone. _four, three, two, one...._ the ground trembled as the ear-shattering roar jumped across the lunar landscape. the sound grew louder, sharper, and bronsen began to think his head would split with the noise. the rockets pitched higher, their scream pierced the air and then the silver nose of the ship edged above the top of the launcher. it pulled further into view, the shimmering silver glinting in the sun and bronsen clenched his fists in anxiety. come on baby; show them what you can do. that's it baby, keep right on coming. come on girl! the ship rose clear of the launcher, the distance making it look as if it were shot straight out, but bronsen knew the steadily spinning hull was heading right. suddenly he noticed it. something was wrong! the ship wasn't acting right. what was it? his eyes tried to leap from his head to get closer to the rising needle and then he saw it. it was shaking. the whole ship was trembling as if in human terror. he watched the tremors pass from the nose to the tail, each one more violent than the last, until the whole ship was wracked with a shaking like palsy. why? it had worked so beautifully with the experimental models. what was causing it? the bow of the ship was now visibly shaking, the tremors becoming more savage and then the nose began to dip. with a final shudder of resignation, the rocket pitched over and began its screaming descent. bronsen watched the plunging ship, felt his heart grab in pain in his chest and stumbled back from the observation window unable to watch any longer. the burst of a million shells at once slammed into the unyielding lunar plain. in his mind's eye he could see the twisted, exploding mass of metal and the thought sickened him. the others ran from the room, heading for the wrecked ship. bronsen watched them with dull eyes and made no attempt to follow. what could they do for the four men that had gone to their deaths in his mad creation? what could they do for the millions of dollars that now lay a twisted heap of rubble? he turned to drag his defeated body back to the lab, to twist and mull in his mind what had happened, and found himself looking into the glaring eyes of mars. "i told you, didn't i, mr. corbow?" bronsen covered his ears so that he wouldn't hear. he screamed, "shut up! shut up before i slam you one." mars spat in disgust. "four nice guys in that ship, too. knew 'em, didn't you?" bronsen's hammer-hard first smashed into mars' mouth and the old man was slammed against the wall before falling in a crumpled heap on the floor. he sat there, the blood oozing from his mouth as he stared at the retreating back of the man he never thought would have enough nerve to really hit him. now he was sorry he had said anything and the self pity welled up within him. he really didn't mean half of what he always managed to spit out. what made him do it? he wiped the blood from his mouth and pulled himself to his feet. * * * * * bronsen slumped further down into the soft contours of the chair, eyeing hanson reed with a tortured soul. the president of inter galactic enterprises glared at him from the other side of the desk, every inch of his paunchy frame the body of an outraged executive. he chewed violently on the black cigar in his mouth and waited impatiently for bronsen to explain. bronsen spread his hands helplessly. "i don't know reed. i just don't know." his shoulders heaved in a sigh of dejection. "every single person in the moon lab has been looking for an answer and we still can't find out why the ship crashed. we've tested the laboratory models over and over again. we've gone over every little detail and have nothing but a blank to show for it." reed chewed more savagely at the end of his cold cigar. "we spent two million dollars on research and development and all _we_ have to show for it is a pile of scrap metal and four corpses scattered over the lunar landscape. there's got to be some explanation." "just one in a million chances that an accident like this would happen," bronsen countered desperately. "it's just coincidence that it happened on the first model." "coincidence!" mars' voice was guttural with contempt. "i told you from the start it wasn't practical. i knew...." "all right, mars," reed interrupted. "you were project design engineer, right?" mars nodded in agreement. "was there anything wrong with the design of the ship, any reason why it probably wouldn't have worked, from a design stand-point?" "no," he answered reluctantly. "not that i could see. i just knew from the start it wasn't going to work. i told bronsen that, lots of times, but he just isn't the type to take advice." bronsen roared and leaped to his feet. "you old fool," he bellowed. "technically, theoretically and mechanically, there wasn't one indication that it wasn't going to be a completely successful launching procedure. you know that as well as anyone! ask the men around you. they handled the final application, the mechanics, the construction, the blast off. ask any one of them. every single one of them will tell you the same thing. there was no reason why the ship should have crashed! every item had been checked, double checked and re-checked again. the instruments indicated everything was functioning perfectly at blast off. if you didn't have such a twisted inverted opinion of everything...." mars leaned forward, his body now trembling, "don't you go calling me names, you swell-headed pup!" reed pounded his desk violently. "mars! bronsen!" he shouted impatiently. "this is hardly the time for name-calling and airing personal gripes. we're here to find a good reason for spending more money on this project. we're not children in a schoolyard, arguing over a piece of candy, although that's exactly what it's beginning to sound like. frankly, i'm of the opinion that with so much internal fighting going on, nothing could possibly come of spending more. it would be a waste of both finances and time." bronsen slowly sat down again, his trembling hands clenched into tight fists. "that's one item you don't have to worry about," he growled. "kenton is completely finished as far as i'm concerned. he's out. fired." mars' face fell in shocked surprise. reed tore the cigar from his mouth and glared at bronsen. "no one is being fired, bronsen. you've been a good leader, in my opinion, as well as a friend, but i do the firing around here." bronsen glowered and reddened under the unexpected rebuttal but said nothing. "you are young yet," reed continued. "you've got brains, imagination, leadership and ability. wouldn't be where you are if you didn't. there's just one thing lacking, and mars is the one that has it. experience. and with that experience goes well-used caution. you've got the go-ahead, but he has the wisdom. temperance and drive. that's mars and you. you've got each other. why don't you just learn how to work with and use each other?" bronsen remained in baleful silence. mars glared at the younger man and sneered contemptuously. "that young pup never will know what the word caution means. he's so eager to get his name up...." bronsen rose to his feet, his grey eyes flashing in hate. reed slammed his cigar into the ashtray and threw up his hands. "that's it! it's the last straw! i'm through playing referee for two snarling dogs. the project is closed, finished! if and when somebody can come up with a decent reason why it should be opened again, we'll consider it then. until that time, consider the project non-existent and return to your regular jobs. and cut out the bickering and fighting--or you are both fired!" he pulled out a fresh cigar, bit into it in disgust and dismissed the meeting by returning to the papers on his desk. bronsen felt the anger boiling over within him and suppressed the desire to hand in his resignation on the spot. he looked for mars and saw his thin frame out the door. he wearily passed a hand over his eyes and left the room. * * * * * mars scowled in annoyance at vern's whistling and silently wished the young assistant would get out of the room and let him brood in peace. he chewed the end of his pencil methodically and savagely, his features blushing pink with anger as he remembered the tirade of words exchanged with bronsen a week ago. "stupid, insolent, day-dreaming pup," he snarled half aloud. vern stopped in mid-step, eyeing him in surprise. "huh?" he said. "did you say something to me?" mars grimaced. "no. i was just talking to myself." vern grinned widely. "that's good. i'd sure hate to have anybody think those words were a description of me. good old vern, that's me. combination office boy, slave, master of ceremonies and soothing balm for ruffled egos. that's my description of me. master of all trades, jack of none. of course, i can't say what others think." "you don't make much sense," mars growled thickly, biting again into the pencil. "neither do you," vern countered quickly. "but then again, what man does to a struggling young genius like myself?" "oh dry up," came the reply. "and take that drawing table into the new drafter's room." "oh, sure. you only need about three men to move that monster but...." he left the sentence unfinished and dragged the table from the wall. mars smiled sympathetically, shook his head, and pointed to his bad leg when vern indicated he could use some help. "such is the life of a slave," the younger man sighed and hoisting the clumsy article, headed for the door. "look out!" mars suddenly yelled and jumped forward to catch a falling rocket model as the table edge glanced off it. vern yelped in surprise, jolted backward and fell against the wall, the heavy board crashing down on his foot. "my god, vern. your foot...." the other grinned, withdrew his foot from beneath the board and pulled down his sock. "not this baby," he flipped. "i've got cast-iron insurance. it's plastic from the ankle down, see?" mars stared in shock at the artificial limb and could think of nothing very brilliant to say. "got it in cadet school," vern explained and then answered the question in mars' eyes. "i was training to be a space pilot myself. some fellows and i decided to celebrate our graduation, got drunk and ended up in a wreck. they put me together real good, even taught me how to use the foot so no one would ever know it wasn't the real thing. it washed me out as far as the space corps was concerned though. i drowned my sorrows in alcohol for a couple weeks, told myself i was going to hell with myself and then decided to put what i did know to work. that's how i joined up with this outfit. now i sit back and design the rockets my classmates have to worry about flying.... enough of this chatter ... got to get busy. see you." mars turned thoughtfully back to his desk. "that kid's got only one foot," he mused soberly. he looked down at his own injured leg and savagely kicked it against the wall. "your leg. your poor, crippled leg ... what a fine crutch it has been," he bitterly reproached himself. "it proves you were one of the first in space, and you won't let people forget it. you're a jealous old man. you're afraid to have someone else do what you no longer can do. you want things to stay the way they were when you got hurt, so no one else can live your dream. if time stood still, there would be no trips to new planets, no new discoveries and mars kenton would still be the hero of his dream." he tried to revolt, to denounce the self-accusations. "what about bronsen corbow?" he asked. "does that explain why i've fought him so hard?" his slowly growing conscience laughed at him. "but it does. bronsen ignores your crutch, your proof that the old way worked the best. he's concerned with the future, the future you never want to come." he buried his grey-thatched head in his hands and felt the weariness in his bones. his thoughts returned to the unsuccessful launching. "but it was a crazy idea," he argued weakly. "it would never have worked anyway." it was a poor defense, one that faltered and failed when he finally admitted the truth: he was a jealous, bitter man, fighting anonymity. once more he found himself mulling over the rocket launching, probing for support to his initial decision that it wouldn't work, searching for some point to substantiate his claim. but was he really right in that decision? had he let his hate-ridden heart rule his reasoning mind? he waded back to the beginning of bronsen's theory. bullets ... the test models were the bullets. shells ... the huge rocket itself was a shell compared to the bullets. shells have an ojive, bourrelet, rotating band, but bullets are different. how? he stopped. he reviewed the parts in his mind, then suddenly lurched to the files and pulled out the rocket plans. he compared the ship's construction bit by bit with a shell, his mind working quickly, accurately, with a new enthusiasm.... hours later he leaned back from his drawing table and his voice rumbled out into the quiet reaches of the empty room. "men will fly to the stars like a bullet," he prophesized. "because i know why the rocket crashed." it was dark but the light in bronsen's office was still on. mars pulled himself erect and turned toward bronsen's room, then faltered. "i could just forget it," he mused. "then the idea would be filed away. but someday...." he could not do it. the excitement was beginning to mount inside of him, pushing him forward. he took a deep breath and with a decisive shrug drew back his shoulders, standing straighter and taller than he had in fifteen long years. he strode from the room and headed down the hall. bronsen heard the door behind him open and close softly. he glanced up and saw who it was and returned, scowling, to his work. when mars did not leave, he looked up again, curiosity stirring within him at the expression in the older man's face. "well?" it wasn't really a question, nor an inflection denoting that he wanted to hear what mars had to say. it was more of a compromise between physically throwing him out and grudgingly listening to what he had to say. "i've got it, i know what happened to the ship," mars announced quietly. "i knew it when i saw it come out of the launcher but i couldn't explain it." bronsen returned to his papers with a snort and mars pleaded, "i'm sorry about all those things i said. for god's sake. listen to me!" the tortured pleading in the man's voice made bronsen put down the papers in surprise. "the models worked," mars plunged ahead. "sure they did. but because they were small ... so much smaller than the real ship ... there was no trouble and they worked perfectly. the trouble reveals itself only as the projectile gets larger. the nose, bronsen. a nose band. don't you see what i'm trying to say?" the younger man stared in silence at the pleading ex-space pilot, before the words began to penetrate his whirling thoughts. he forgot the crash of the ship; he forgot the feel of hard teeth splitting the skin across his knuckles; he forgot the animosity that existed between them. his mind could focus on nothing but what mars was trying to say. "the nose of the ship is long. the only guides were on the tail at the rotating band. think of shells. bourrelets. the _big_ shells have bourrelets ... bands around the nose that dig into the grooves and steady the front of the shell. the ship ... its front began trembling because there was nothing to guide the nose in a steady path. the more velocity the rocket had, the worse the trembling became until it threw the whole ship out of control. don't you see? that's all that was wrong with it! it would have been perfect if it had had guide wings on the bourrelet. the guide pieces could be withdrawn when the ship is launched ... but they would have to be there in order to _get_ it launched. i'm right, you know i am! that's your answer. that was the only part wrong with it!" the enormity of mars' words left bronsen speechless. he looked at the suddenly joyous man before him and saw the old bitterness replaced by the rapture of his discovery. yes, that was what had been wrong. it was the solution ... the one tiny piece that made the puzzle into an understandable picture. he paused a moment, as if trying to make a great decision, then grabbed the older man by the arm. "come on! let's get it down on paper!" * * * * * the rocket lay huddled in the belly of the launching tower, her needle-like body quiet, waiting, her control panels flashing signals and instructions to her masters, her circuits buzzing with the tenseness of the seconds before blast off. the steady counting drummed through her wires, tripped relays, and her masters flipped the switches, pressed the buttons and pulled the levers that readied her for her maiden flight. eight seconds, seven seconds. six seconds, five, four. the switch was jerked upward and she felt the power beginning to move in her vitals. _three, two, one!_ the driver button slammed home, her rockets roared out in ferocious birth, snarling, roaring, growing with each passing second. she settled back upon her rockets as if in protest at their screaming growth, then was forced to give ground and the ship moved up the shaft. her rotating band and bourrelet fins dug deep into the spiraling grooves, her body began to turn ... slowly, so slowly. then she suddenly leaped forward, her hull whirling upward; the shaft raced by in dizzy swiftness, her rockets roared louder and she raised her spinning body further. she was free! her body hurtled up and up, her needle nose straight and true, her velocity leaping forward.... "off rockets! set up emergency interstellar drive for instant activation if needed. signal in scanning screens. activate force field and take a breather, boys. we're on our way and the blast off was perfect." the pilot's mechanical sounding voice droned through the speaker in the moon-bound observation room and simultaneously the air was ruffled by the deep exhale of relief, the rustle of slowly relaxing bodies strung tight with the hopeful tenseness of the blast off. mars gazed up at the disappearing silver streak, his blue eyes intent, glistening with pride and excitement. "i never thought i'd see the day," he breathed. "look at her, she's going straight and true. she's the most beautiful thing i ever saw." bronsen's face relaxed into a happy grin as the gleaming rocket hurtled up out of sight. he glanced at mars and gave him a companionable smile. "even more beautiful than mars that day? or the old rockets?" mars looked slightly embarrassed and shuffled his legs into a more comfortable position. "aw hell," he said awkwardly. "can't you forget an old fool's ramblings? we just watched a rocket launched that's going to open up a whole new era in space travel. it was a perfect blast off and we know it'll be a perfect trip and landing." bronsen thoughtfully nodded his head, his grey eyes dancing. "tell you what," mars continued. "i've got a bottle that i've been saving for about fifteen years. got it when we got back from that first trip and never opened it." bronsen grinned and gave the old man's thin shoulder a hearty slap. "let's get that drink!" the winning of the moon by kris neville the enemy was friendly enough. trouble was--their friendship was as dangerous as their hate! [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from worlds of if science fiction, september 1962. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] general finogenov notified major winship that the underground blast was scheduled for the following morning. major winship, after receiving the message, discussed precautions with the three other americans. next morning, before the sunlight exploded, the four of them donned their space suits and went and sat outside the dome, waiting. the sun rose with its bright, silent clap of radiance. black pools of shadows lay in harsh contrast, their edges drawn with geometric precision. major winship attempted unsuccessfully to communicate with base gagarin. "will you please request the general to keep us informed on the progress of the countdown?" "is pinov," came the reply. "help?" "_nyet_," said major winship, exhausting his russian. "count down. progress. when--boom?" "is pinov," came the reply. "boom! boom!" said major winship in exasperation. "boom!" said pinov happily. "when?" "boom--boom!" said pinov. "oh, nuts." major winship cut out the circuit. "they've got pinov on emergency watch this morning," he explained to the other americans. "the one that doesn't speak english." "he's done it deliberately," said capt. wilkins, the eldest of the four americans. "how are we going to know when it's over?" no one bothered to respond. they sat for a while in silence while the shadows evaporated. one by one they clicked on their cooling systems. ultimately, lt. chandler said, "this is a little ridiculous. i'm going to switch over to their channel. rap if you want me." he sat transfixed for several minutes. "ah, it's all russian. jabbering away. i can't tell a thing that's going on." in the airless void of the moon, the blast itself would be silent. a moth's wing of dust would, perhaps, rise and settle beyond the horizon: no more. "static?" "nope." "we'll get static on these things." a small infinity seemed to pass very slowly. major winship shifted restlessly. "my reefer's gone on the fritz." perspiration was trickling down his face. "let's all go in," said the fourth american, capt. lawler. "it's probably over by now." "i'll try again," major winship said and switched to the emergency channel. "base gagarin? base gagarin?" "is pinov. help?" "_nyet._" "pinov's still there," major winship said. "tell him, 'help'," said capt. wilkins, "so he'll get somebody we can talk to." "i'll see them all in hell, first," major winship said. five minutes later, the perspiration was rivers across his face. "this is it," he said. "i'm going in." "let's all--" "no. i've got to cool off." "hell, charlie, i feel stupid sitting out here," capt. lawler said. "the shot probably went off an hour ago." "the static level hasn't gone up much, if at all." "maybe," lt. chandler said, "it's buried too deep." "maybe so," major winship said. "but we can't have the dome fall down around all our ears." he stood. "whew! you guys stay put." * * * * * he crossed with the floating moon-motion to the airlock and entered, closing the door behind him. the darkness slowly filled with air, and the temperature inside the suit declined steadily. at the proper moment of pressure, the inner lock slid open and major winship stepped into the illuminated central area. his foot was lifted for the second step when the floor beneath him rose and fell gently, pitching him forward, off balance. he stumbled against the table and ended up seated beside the radio equipment. the ground moved again. "charlie! charlie!" "i'm okay," major winship answered. "okay! okay!" "it's--" there was additional surface movement. the movement ceased. "hey, les, how's it look?" capt. wilkins asked. "okay from this side. charlie, you still okay?" "okay," major winship said. "we told them this might happen," he added bitterly. there was a wait during which everyone seemed to be holding their breath. "i guess it's over," said major winship, getting to his feet. "wait a bit more, there may be an after-shock." he switched once again to the emergency channel. "is pinov," came the supremely relaxed voice. "help?" major winship whinnied in disgust. "_nyet!_" he snarled. to the other americans: "our comrades seem unconcerned." "tough." they began to get the static for the first time. it crackled and snapped in their speakers. they made sounds of disapproval at each other. for a minute or two, static blanked out the communications completely. it then abated to something in excess of normal. "well," lt. chandler commented, "even though we didn't build this thing to withstand a moonquake, it seems to have stood up all right." "i guess i was just--" major winship began. "oh, hell! we're losing pressure. where's the markers?" "by the lug cabinet." "got 'em," major winship said a moment later. he peeled back a marker and let it fall. air currents whisked it away and plastered it against a riveted seam of the dome. it pulsed as though it were breathing and then it ruptured. major winship moved quickly to cut out the emergency air supply which had cut in automatically with the pressure drop. "you guys wait. it's on your right side, midway up. i'll try to sheet it." he moved for the plastic sheeting. "we've lost about three feet of calk out here," capt. lawler said. "i can see more ripping loose. you're losing pressure fast at this rate." major winship pressed the sheeting over the leak. "how's that?" "not yet." "i don't think i've got enough pressure left to hold it, now. it's sprung a little, and i can't get it to conform over the rivet heads." there was a splatter of static. "damn!" major winship said, "they should have made these things more flexible." "still coming out." "best i can do." major winship stepped back. the sheet began slowly to slide downward, then it fell away completely and lay limply on the floor. "come on in," he said dryly. * * * * * with the four of them inside, it was somewhat cramped. most of the five hundred square feet was filled with equipment. electrical cables trailed loosely along the walls and were festooned from the ceiling, radiating from the connections to the outside solar cells. the living space was more restricted than in a submarine, with the bunks jutting out from the walls about six feet from the floor. lt. chandler mounted one of the bunks to give them more room. "well," he said wryly, "it doesn't smell as bad now." "oops," said major winship. "just a second. they're coming in." he switched over to the emergency channel. it was general finogenov. "major winship! hello! hello, hello, hello. you a okay?" "this is major winship." "oh! excellent, very good. any damage, major?" "little leak. you?" "came through without damage." general finogenov paused a moment. when no comment was forthcoming, he continued: "perhaps we built a bit more strongly, major." "you did this deliberately," major winship said testily. "no, no. oh, no, no, no, no. major winship, please believe me. i very much regret this. very much so. i am very distressed. depressed. after repeatedly assuring you there was no danger of a quake--and then to have something like this happen. oh, this is very embarrassing to me. is there anything at all we can do?" "just leave us alone, thank you," major winship said and cut off the communication. "what'd they say?" capt. wilkins asked. "larry, general finogenov said he was very embarrassed by this." "that's nice," lt. chandler said. "i'll be damned surprised," major winship said, "if they got any seismic data out of that shot.... well, to hell with them, let's get this leak fixed. skip, can you get the calking compound?" "larry, where's the inventory?" "les has got it." lt. chandler got down from the bunk and capt. wilkins mounted. "larry," major winship said, "why don't you get earth?" "okay." capt. wilkins got down from the bunk and capt. lawler ascended. "got the inventory sheet, les?" "right here." squeezed in front of the massive transmitter, capt. wilkins had energized the circuits. there was a puzzled look on his face. he leaned his helmet against the speaker and then shook his head sadly. "we can't hear anything without any air." major winship looked at the microphone. "well, i'll just report and--" he started to pick up the microphone and reconsidered. "yes," he said. "that's right, isn't it." capt. wilkins flicked off the transmitter. "some days you don't mine at all," he said. "les, have you found it?" "it's around here somewhere. supposed to be back here." "well, _find_ it." lt. chandler began moving boxes. "i saw it--" "skip, help look." capt. lawler got down from the bunk and major winship mounted. "we haven't got all day." a few minutes later, lt. chandler issued the triumphant cry. "here it is! dozen tubes. squeeze tubes. it's the new stuff." major winship got down and capt. wilkins got up. "marker showed it over here," major winship said, inching over to the wall. he traced the leak with a metallic finger. "how does this stuff work?" capt. lawler asked. they huddled over the instruction sheet. "let's see. squeeze the tube until the diaphragm at the nozzle ruptures. extrude paste into seam. allow to harden one hour before service." major winship said dryly, "never mind. i notice it hardens on contact with air." capt. wilkins lay back on the bunk and stared upward. he said, "now that makes a weird kind of sense, doesn't it?" "how do they possibly think--?" "gentlemen! it doesn't make any difference," lt. chandler said. "some air must already have leaked into this one. it's hard as a rock. a gorilla couldn't extrude it." "how're the other ones?" asked major winship. lt. chandler turned and made a quick examination. "oh, they're all hard, too." "who was supposed to check?" demanded capt. wilkins in exasperation. "the only way you can check is to extrude it," lt. chandler said, "and if it does extrude, you've ruined it." "that's that," major winship said. "there's nothing for it but to yell help." ii capt. lawler and lt. chandler took the land car to base gagarin. the soviet base was situated some ten miles toward sunset at the bottom of a natural fold in the surface. the route was moderately direct to the tip of the gently rolling ridge. at that point, the best pathway angled left and made an s-shaped descent to the basin. it was a one-way trip of approximately thirty exhausting minutes. major winship, with his deficient reefer, remained behind. capt. wilkins stayed for company. "i want a cigarette in the worst way," capt. wilkins said. "so do i, larry. shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. unless something else goes wrong." "as long as they'll loan us the calking compound," capt. wilkins said. "yeah, yeah," major winship said. "let's eat." "you got any concentrate? i'm empty." "i'll load you," capt. wilkins volunteered wearily. it was an awkward operation that took several minutes. capt. wilkins cursed twice during the operation. "i'd hate to live in this thing for any period." "i think these suits are one thing we've got over the russians," major winship said. "i don't see how they can manipulate those bulky pieces of junk around." they ate. "really horrible stuff." "nutritious." after the meal, major winship said reflectively, "now i'd like a cup of hot tea. i'm cooled off." capt. wilkins raised eyebrows. "what brought this on?" "i was just thinking.... they really got it made, larry. they've got better than three thousand square feet in the main dome and better than twelve hundred square feet in each of the two little ones. and there's only seven of them right now. that's living." "they've been here six years longer, after all." "finogenov had a _clay_ samovar sent up. lemon and nutmeg, too. real, by god, fresh lemons for the tea, the last time i was there. his own office is about ten by ten. think of that. one hundred square feet. and a wooden desk. a _wooden_ desk. and a chair. a wooden chair. everything big and heavy. everything. weight, hell. fifty pounds more or less--" "they've got the power-plants for it." "do you think he did that deliberately?" major winship asked. "i think he's trying to force us off. i think he hoped for the quake. gagarin's built to take it, i'll say that. looks like it, anyhow. you don't suppose they planned this all along? even if they didn't, they sure got the jump on us again, didn't they? i told you what he told me?" "you told me," capt. wilkins said. * * * * * after a moment, major winship said bitterly, "to hell with the russian engineer." "if you've got all that power...." "that's the thing. that's the thing that gripes me, know what i mean? it's just insane to send up a heavy wooden desk. that's showing off. like a little kid." "maybe they don't make aluminum desks." "they've--got--aluminum. half of everything on the whole planet is aluminum. you know they're just showing off." "let me wire you up," capt. wilkins said. "we ought to report." "that's going to take awhile." "it's something to do while we wait." "i guess we ought to." major winship came down from the bunk and sat with his back toward the transmitter. capt. wilkins slewed the equipment around until the emergency jacks were accessible. he unearthed the appropriate cable and began unscrewing the exterior plate to the small transmitter-receiver set on major winship's back. eventually, trailing wires, major winship was coupled into the network. "okay?" "okay," major winship gestured. they roused earth. "this is major charles winship, commanding officer, freedom 19, the american moonbase." at this point, major winship observed for the first time that he was now on emergency air. he started to ask capt. wilkins to change his air bottle, but then he realized his communications were cut off. he reached over and rapped capt. wilkins' helmet. "this is the cape. come in, major winship." "just a moment." "is everything all right?" major winship was squirming nervously, obviously perturbed. "a-okay," he said. "just a moment." "what's wrong?" came the worried question. in the background, he heard someone say, "i think there's something wrong." capt. wilkins peered intently. major winship contorted his face in a savage grimace. capt. wilkins raised his eyebrows in alarm. they were face to face through their helmets, close together. each face appeared monstrously large to the other. major winship made a strangling motion and reached for his throat. one arm tangled a cable and jerked the speaker jack loose. major winship could no longer hear the alarmed expressions from the cape. the effort was not entirely subvocal, since he emitted a little gasping cry in involuntary realism. this, in the course of some 90 seconds, was transmitted to earth. capt. wilkins's lips were desperately forming the word "leak?" air, major winship said silently. leak? bottle! bottle! bottle! it was a frog-like, unvocal expletive. * * * * * comprehension dawned. capt. wilkins nodded and started to turn away. major winship caught his arm and nodded his head toward the loose jack. oh. capt. wilkins nodded and smiled. he reached across and plugged the speaker in again. "... freedom 19! hello, freedom 19! come in!" "we're here," major winship said. "all right? are you all right?" "we're all right. a-okay." major winship, mindful of the extent of his potential audience, took a deep breath. "earlier this morning, the soviet union fired an underground atomic device for the _ostensible_ purpose of investigating the composition of the lunar mass by means of seismic analysis of the resultant shock waves. this was done in spite of american warnings that such a disturbance might release accumulated stresses in the long undisturbed satellite, and was done in the face of vigorous american protests." capt. wilkins tapped his helmet and gestured for him to swivel around. the turn was uncomfortably tight and complicated by the restraining cables. capt. wilkins began replacement of the air bottle. "these protests have proved well founded," major winship continued. "immediately following the detonation, freedom 19 was called on to withstand a moderately severe shifting of the lunar surface. no personnel were injured and there was no equipment damage." capt. wilkins tapped his shoulder to indicate the new air bottle was being inserted. another tap indicated it was seated. major winship flicked the appropriate chest button and nodded in appreciation. "however," he continued, "we did experience a minor leak in the dome, which is presently being repaired." "the soviet union," came the reply, "has reported the disturbance and has tendered their official apology. you want it?" "it can wait until later. send it by mail for all i care. vacuum has destroyed our organic air reconditioner. we have approximately three weeks of emergency air. however, base gagarin reports no damage, so that, in the event we exhaust our air, we will be able to obtain the necessary replacement." the wait of a little better than three seconds for the response gave the conversation a tone of deliberation. a new voice came on. "we tried to contact you earlier, major. we will be able to deliver replacements in about ten days." "i will forward a coded report on the occurrence," major winship said. "let us hear from you again in ... about three hours. is the leak repaired?" "the leak has not yet been repaired. over and out." he nodded to capt. wilkins and leaned back. methodically, capt. wilkins set about disconnecting the major from the transmitter. "wow!" said major winship when he was once more in communication. "for a moment there, i thought...." "what?" capt. wilkins asked with interest. "i could see myself asking them to ask the russians to ask finogenov to get on the emergency channel to ask you to charge the air bottle. i never felt so ... idiotic is not quite strong enough ... there for a minute in my whole life. i didn't know how much emergency air was left, and i thought, my god, i'll never live this down. all the hams in the world listening, while i try to explain the situation. i could see the nickname being entered in my files: aka. the airless idiot. i tell you, that was rough." iii capt. lawler and lt. chandler returned with the calking compound. it occupied the rear section of the land car. lt. chandler sat atop it. it was a fifty-five gallon drum. the airlock to freedom 19 was open. "what is _that_?" asked major winship, squinting out into the glaring sunlight. "that," said capt. lawler, "is the calking compound." "you're kidding," said capt. wilkins. "i am not kidding." capt. lawler and lt. chandler came inside. capt. wilkins mounted a bunk. "why didn't you just borrow a cupful?" major winship said sarcastically. "it's this way," lt. chandler said. "they didn't have anything but 55-gallon drums of it." "oh, my," said capt. wilkins. "i suppose it's a steel drum. those things must weigh...." "actually, i think you guys have got the general wrong," capt. lawler said. "he was out, himself, to greet us. i think he was really quite upset by the quake. probably because his people had misfigured so bad." "he's too damned suspicious," major winship said. "you know and i know why they set that blast off. i tried to tell him. hell. he looks at me like an emasculated owl and wants to know our ulterior motive in trying to prevent a purely scientific experiment, the results of which will be published in the technical press for the good of everybody. i'll bet!" "about this drum," capt. wilkins said. "well, like i said, it's this way," lt. chandler resumed. "i told him we needed about a pint. maybe a quart. but this stuff you have to mix up. he only had these drums. there's two parts to it, and you have to combine them in just the right proportion. he told me to take a little scale--" "a little scale?" asked capt. wilkins, rolling his eyes at the dome. "that's what i told him. we don't have any little scale." "yeah," said captain lawler, "and he looked at us with that mute, surprised look, like everybody, everywhere has dozens of little scales." "well, anyway," lt. chandler continued, "he told us just to mix up the whole fifty-five gallon drum. there's a little bucket of stuff that goes in, and it's measured just right. we can throw away what we don't need." "somehow, that sounds like him," major winship said. "he had five or six of them." "jesus!" said capt. wilkins. "that must be _three thousand pounds_ of calking compound. those people are insane." "the question is," capt. lawler said, "'how are we going to mix it?' it's supposed to be mixed thoroughly." they thought over the problem for a while. "that will be a man-sized job," major winship said. "let's see, charlie. maybe not too bad," said capt. wilkins. "if i took the compressor motor, we could make up a shaft and ... let's see ... if we could...." * * * * * it took the better part of an hour to rig up the electric mixer. capt. wilkins was profusely congratulated. "now," major winship said, "we can either bring the drum inside or take the mixer out there." "we're going to have to bring the drum in," capt. wilkins said. "well," said capt. lawler, "that will make it nice and cozy." it took the four of them to roll the drum inside, rocking it back and forth through the airlock. at that time, it was apparent the table was interposing itself. lt. chandler tried to dismantle the table. "damn these suits," he said. "you've got it stuck between the bunk post." "i _know_ that." "i don't think this is the way to do it," major winship said. "let's back the drum out." reluctantly, they backed the drum out and deposited it. with the aid of capt. lawler, lt. chandler got the table unstuck. they passed it over to major winship, who handed it out to capt. wilkins. captain wilkins carried it around the drum of calking compound and set it down. it rested uneasily on the uneven surface. "now, let's go," said major winship. eventually, they accomplished the moving. they wedged the drum between the main air-supply tank and the transmitter. they were all perspiring. "it's not the weight, it's the mass," said capt. wilkins brightly. "the hell it isn't the weight," said lt. chandler. "that's heavy." "with my reefer out," said major winship, "i'm the one it's rough on." he shook perspiration out of his eyes. "they should figure a way to get a mop in here, or a towel, or a sponge, or something. i'll bet you've forgotten how much sweat stings in the eyes." "it's the salt." "speaking of salt. i wish i had some salt tablets," major winship said. "i've never sweat so much since basic." "want to bet finogenov hasn't got a bushel of them?" "no!" major winship snapped. * * * * * with the drum of calking compound inside, both capt. lawler and lt. chandler retreated to the bunks. capt. wilkins maneuvered the mixing attachment. "i feel crowded," he said. "cozy's the word." "watch it! watch it! you almost hit me in the face plate with that!" "sorry." at length the mixer was in operation in the drum. "works perfectly," said capt. wilkins proudly. "now what, skip? the instructions aren't in english." "you're supposed to dump the bucket of stuff in. then clean the area thoroughly around the leak." "with what?" asked major winship. "sandpaper, i guess." "with sandpaper?" major winship said, emptying the bucket of fluid into the drum. "we don't have any sandpaper." "it's been a long day," capt. wilkins said. "mix it thoroughly," lt. chandler mused. "i guess that means let it mix for about ten minutes or so. then you apply it. it sets for service in just a little bit, finogenov said. an hour or so, maybe." "i hope this doesn't set on exposure to air." "no," capt. lawler said. "it sets by some kind of chemical action. general finogenov wasn't sure of the english name for it. some kind of plastic." "let's come back to how we're going to clean around the leak," major winship said. "say, i--" interrupted capt. wilkins. there was a trace of concern in his voice. "this is a hell of a time for this to occur to me. i just wasn't thinking, before. _you don't suppose it's a room-temperature-curing epoxy resin, do you?_" "larry," said major winship, "i wouldn't know a room-temperature-curing epoxy resin from--" "hey!" exclaimed capt. wilkins. "the mixer's stopped." he bent forward and touched the drum. he jerked back. "ye gods! that's hot! and it's harder than a rock! it _is_ an epoxy! let's get out of here." "huh?" "out! out!" major winship, lt. chandler, and capt. lawler, recognizing the sense of urgency, simultaneously glanced at the drum. it was glowing cherry red. "let's go!" capt. wilkins said. he and the major reached the airlock at the same time and became temporarily engaged with each other. movement was somewhat ungainly in the space suits under the best of conditions, and now, with the necessity for speed, was doubly so. the other two crashed into them from behind, and they spewed forth from the dome in a tangle of arms and legs. at the table, they separated, two going to the left, two to the right. the table remained untouched. when they halted, capt. wilkins said, "get to one side, it may go off like shrapnel." they obeyed. "what--what--what?" capt. lawler stuttered. they were still separated, two on one side of the airlock, two on the other. "i'm going to try to look," capt. wilkins said. "let me go." he lumbered directly away from the dome for a distance of about fifteen feet, then turned and positioned himself, some five feet behind the table, on a line of sight with the airlock. "i can see it," he said. "it's getting redder. it's ... it's ... melting, yes. melting down at the bottom a little. now it's falling over to one side and laying on the air tank. the air tank is getting red, too. i'm afraid ... it's weakening it.... redder. oh, oh." "what?" said capt. lawler. "watch out! there. _there!_" capt. wilkins leaped from his position. he was still floating toward the ground when there was an incredibly bright flare from inside the dome, and a great, silent tongue of flame lashed through the airlock and rolled across the lunar surface. the table was sent tumbling. the flame was gone almost instantly. "there went the air," capt. lawler commented. "we got t-trouble," said lt. chandler. iv during the fifteen-minute wait before they dared venture back, capt. wilkins, interrupted once by what appeared to be a moderately mild after-shock from the previous moonquake, explained the phenomena they had just observed. "a room-temperature-curing epoxy liberates heat during its curing reaction. and the hotter it is when you mix it, the faster it reacts. the drum had been absorbing heat out here for several hours much faster than it could radiate it away. it may have been forty or fifty degrees c when we stirred in the curing agent. at that temperature, a pound mass will normally kick over in five or ten minutes. but here, the only way it can lose the reaction heat is by the slow process of radiation. and that means as the heat builds up, the epoxy goes faster and faster, building up even more heat. and furthermore, we're not talking about a pound, which can maybe get up to 250 c. in air. we're talking about 500 pounds, liberating five hundred times as much heat as one pound, and getting god knows how hot--" "i sure wish you'd have told me this a little bit earlier," major winship said. "i certainly wish you'd told me." capt. wilkins said, "honest, it never occurred to me finogenov would be dumb enough to tell us to mix a whole drum of epoxy." major winship began to curse mechanically. "i don't think he did it deliberately, charlie. i really don't," captain lawler said. "i don't think he knew any better. maybe he was showing off by giving us a whole drum. hell, i know he was showing off. but something like that could kill somebody, and i don't think he'd go that far." "think it's safe, yet?" major winship asked. he was perspiring freely again. "i need some thermal protection. what'll we do? you know damned well. we'll have to go _live_ with them. and that sticks in my craw, gentlemen. that--sticks--in my--craw."' "there's nothing for it," capt. wilkins said helpfully. "let me go in and survey the damage," lt. chandler said. "that's my job," major winship said. "i've got to go in anyway." he lumbered through the airlock and stepped into the total darkness through the razor-edge curtain. "i see it glowing, still," he said. "it's almost as bad in here as out there, now. i guess it's okay. come on. let's bumble around finding the air bottles for the suits and get over there before i'm a boiled lobster. not only is my reefer out, so's my light." "coming." an air of urgency began to accumulate. "what are we going to do with him? it's a half-hour run over there." "think you can make it, charlie?" "i'm damned well hot." "charlie, come out here. in the car. skip, you get the bottles. you drive." major winship came out. "lay down in back," capt. wilkins said. "les, you lay down beside him. i'll lay on top of him. i think we can shield him pretty good that way." "that's good thinking," capt. lawler said from inside. the operation was not easily executed. lt. chandler got in first, and then major winship squeezed beside him. "careful, there," he said as capt. wilkins came aboard. capt. wilkins's foot rolled off one of major winship's thighs. "watch it!" "i am." "oops!" "ufff! i felt that. ugh. thank god for the way these are built." "how's that?" capt. wilkins asked. "i guess.... it's okay, i guess." "cooler?" "it's too soon to tell. man, i'll bet we look silly." capt. lawler came out with the bottles and studied his companions for a moment. "see if we can get up and over a little more, les." "this okay?" "better. how's it feel, charlie?" "okay." cant. lawler deposited the air bottles. "everyone got enough air?" "i guess we're all okay," capt. wilkins said. "don't we look silly?" major winship asked plaintively. "i can't possibly describe my emotions at this minute." "you look all right," capt. lawler said. "still hot?" major winship grunted. he said nothing. "i'll get there as fast as i can." * * * * * after about ten minutes jarring across the lunar surface, major winship said, "i'm not appreciably cooler; but then i'm not appreciably hotter, either." "shut up, charlie. you're a thirty-year man," lt. chandler said. "old soldiers never die, they just become desiccated." "i'd like a beer," major winship said. "a cold, frosty, foamy beer. big collar. gimme a beer, a little shaker of salt--" "finogenov's probably got eight or ten cases." "for once, i hope you're right. try to bounce a little easier, larry." "russians don't drink beer," lt. chandler said. "you sure?" "vodka," capt lawler grunted. "they drink champagne, you idiots," capt. wilkins said. "beggars can't be choosers," major winship said. "champagne is okay by me. if it's just cold." "finogenov will have a few hundred pounds of ice." "cut it out," major winship said. "boy, you wait till we get you back to earth. when it comes time to reup, i'm going to be there. i'm going to remind you of this one." "you're a thirty-year man, too, les," major winship said. "not me," lt. chandler said. "i've had it, dad. i'm going to sell my life story to the movies and spend the rest of my life eating popcorn and watching what an idiot i was. a man can get hurt up here." "so you want to be a civilian?" "you're damned right i do," lt. chandler said. "we're about there," capt. lawler cut in. "you still okay, charlie?" "fine." "here's the little ridge, then. hold on, we're taking the angle up. you riding okay, charlie?" "fine, skip." after a moment, capt. lawler said, "i see the base now. the top. hey!" he slammed on the brakes. "oh, _no_! those ... those fools! those idiots." "what's wrong?" major winship demanded. "skip--_what's wrong?_" "the second little dome is down. it wasn't that way a couple of hours ago. and they've block-and-tackled a drum of calking compound up on the main dome." "_we've got to stop them!_" major winship cried. "skip! skip!" "charlie, there's nothing we can do. the drum's just starting to turn red." there was silence for a while. "it's melting through, now. there it goes. down through the dome. out of sight." after a moment, capt. lawler continued. "funny how things fall so slowly under this low gravity. it floated through their dome just like a feather. you should have seen it." eventually, lt. chandler said, "boys, this is my last hitch." there was more silence. capt. wilkins mused, "i guess they didn't have a little scale either." someone was breathing loudly. at length, major winship said reflectively, "why do you suppose they would try to calk it from the outside?" again silence. major winship asked the question. "okay. let's have it. how's the other little dome?" "other one? oh, sorry," capt. lawler said. "it looks all right." "it better _be_ all right," lt. chandler said. * * * * * in the end, the eleven of them were crowded into the one remaining operational structure of the four available on the moon at sunrise. for perhaps the tenth time, general finogenov offered his apologies. he and major winship were huddled side by side in a corner. they were drinking vodka. "plenty of everything," general finogenov said. "don't concern yourself, major. air, food, water, we have more than enough for a prolonged siege." "accidents will happen." "exactly," said general finogenov, pouring more vodka for himself. "glad you understand." he put the empty bottle down. "we will have another one next week. in the meantime--i very much regret the inconvenience. plenty of food, water, air, though. pinov! pinov! vodka!" pinov answered in russian. general finogenov frowned. "dear, dear," he said. "i'm afraid this must be our last one, major. you see, while we have plenty of everything else, we are, you see.... the truth of the matter is, we didn't foresee visitors. unfortunately, we have no more vodka." "no more vodka," said general finogenov. he stared morosely into the inky distance. "major winship, i have a confession. oh, that second one was a beauty. you didn't feel it?" "our leak sprang on the first one. the second was quite mild, we thought." "we were right on the fault line," general finogenov said. "as you americans say, it was a beauty. i have a confession. one must admit one's mistakes." "yes?" "we used much too large a bomb," he said. "i'm with you," lt. chandler chimed in from somewhere out of the darkness. "but when do you think you're going to get the lights fixed?" the reluctant heroes by frank m. robinson illustrated by don sibley [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction january 1951. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] pioneers have always resented their wanderlust, hated their hardships. but the future brings a new grudge--when pioneers stay put and scholars do the exploring! _the very young man sat on the edge of the sofa and looked nervous. he carefully studied his fingernails and ran his hands through his hair and picked imaginary lint off the upholstery._ _"i have a chance to go with the first research expedition to venus," he said._ _the older man studied the very young man thoughtfully and then leaned over to his humidor and offered him a cigaret. "it's nice to have the new air units now. there was a time when we had to be very careful about things like smoking."_ _the very young man was annoyed._ _"i don't think i want to go," he blurted. "i don't think i would care to spend two years there."_ _the older man blew a smoke ring and watched it drift toward the air exhaust vent._ _"you mean you would miss it here, the people you've known and grown up with, the little familiar things that have made up your life here. you're afraid the glamor would wear off and you would get to hate it on venus."_ _the very young man nodded miserably. "i guess that's it."_ _"anything else?"_ _the very young man found his fingernails extremely fascinating again and finally said, in a low voice, "yes, there is."_ _"a girl?"_ _a nod confirmed this._ _it was the older man's turn to look thoughtful. "you know, i'm sure, that psychologists and research men agree that research stations should be staffed by couples. that is, of course, as soon as it's practical."_ _"but that might be a long time!" the very young man protested._ _"it might be--but sometimes it's sooner than you think. and the goal is worth it."_ _"i suppose so, but--"_ _the older man smiled. "still the reluctant heroes," he said, somewhat to himself._ * * * * * chapman stared at the radio key. three years on the moon and they didn't want him to come back. three years on the moon and they thought he'd be glad to stay for more. just raise his salary or give him a bonus, the every-man-has-his-price idea. they probably thought he liked it there. oh, sure, he loved it. canned coffee, canned beans, canned pills, and canned air until your insides felt as though they were plated with tin. life in a cramped, smelly little hut where you could take only ten steps in any one direction. their little scientific home of tomorrow with none of the modern conveniences, a charming place where you couldn't take a shower, couldn't brush your teeth, and your kidneys didn't work right. and for double his salary they thought he'd be glad to stay for another year and a half. or maybe three. he should probably be glad he had the opportunity. the key started to stutter again, demanding an answer. he tapped out his reply: "_no!_" there was a silence and then the key stammered once more in a sudden fit of bureaucratic rage. chapman stuffed a rag under it and ignored it. he turned to the hammocks, strung against the bulkhead on the other side of the room. the chattering of the key hadn't awakened anybody; they were still asleep, making the animal noises that people usually make in slumber. dowden, half in the bottom hammock and half on the floor, was snoring peacefully. dahl, the poor kid who was due for stopover, was mumbling to himself. julius klein, with that look of ineffable happiness on his face, looked as if he had just squirmed under the tent to his personal idea of heaven. donley and bening were lying perfectly still, their covers not mussed, sleeping very lightly. lord, chapman thought, i'll be happy when i can see some other faces. "what'd they want?" klein had one eyelid open and a questioning look on his face. "they wanted me to stay until the next relief ship lands," chapman whispered back. "what did you say?" he shrugged. "no." "you kept it short," somebody else whispered. it was donley, up and sitting on the side of his hammock. "if it had been me, i would have told them just what they could do about it." * * * * * the others were awake now, with the exception of dahl who had his face to the bulkhead and a pillow over his head. dowden rubbed his eyes sleepily. "sore, aren't you?" "kind of. who wouldn't be?" "well, don't let it throw you. they've never been here on the moon. they don't know what it's like. all they're trying to do is get a good man to stay on the job a while longer." "_all_ they're trying to do," chapman said sarcastically. "they've got a fat chance." "they think you've found a home here," donley said. "why the hell don't you guys shut up until morning?" dahl was awake, looking bitter. "some of us still have to stay here, you know. some of us aren't going back today." no, chapman thought, some of us aren't going back. you aren't. and dixon's staying, too. only dixon isn't ever going back. klein jerked his thumb toward dahl's bunk, held a finger to his lips, and walked noiselessly over to the small electric stove. it was his day for breakfast duty. the others started lacing up their bunks, getting ready for their last day of work on the moon. in a few hours they'd be relieved by members of the third research group and they'd be on their way back to earth. and that includes me, chapman thought. i'm going home. i'm finally going home. he walked silently to the one small, quartz window in the room. it was morning--the moon's "morning"--and he shivered slightly. the rays of the sun were just striking the far rim of the crater and long shadows shot across the crater floor. the rest of it was still blanketed in a dark jumble of powdery pumice and jagged peaks that would make the black hills of dakota look like paradise. a hundred yards from the research bunker he could make out the small mound of stones and the forlorn homemade cross, jury-rigged out of small condensed milk tins slid over crossed iron bars. you could still see the footprints in the powdery soil where the group had gathered about the grave. it had been more than eighteen months ago, but there was no wind to wear those tracks away. they'd be there forever. that's what happened to guys like dixon, chapman thought. on the moon, one mistake could use up your whole quota of chances. klein came back with the coffee. chapman took a cup, gagged, and forced himself to swallow the rest of it. it had been in the can for so long you could almost taste the glue on the label. * * * * * donley was warming himself over his cup, looking thoughtful. dowden and bening were struggling into their suits, getting ready to go outside. dahl was still sitting on his hammock, trying to ignore them. "think we ought to radio the space station and see if they've left there yet?" klein asked. "i talked to them on the last call," chapman said. "the relief ship left there twelve hours ago. they should get here"--he looked at his watch--"in about six and a half hours." "chap, you know, i've been thinking," donley said quietly. "you've been here just twice as long as the rest of us. what's the first thing you're going to do once you get back?" it hit them, then. dowden and bening looked blank for a minute and blindly found packing cases to sit on. the top halves of their suits were still hanging on the bulkhead. klein lowered his coffee cup and looked grave. even dahl glanced up expectantly. "i don't know," chapman said slowly. "i guess i was trying not to think of that. i suppose none of us have. we've been like little kids who have waited so long for christmas that they just can't believe it when it's finally christmas eve." klein nodded in agreement. "i haven't been here three years like you have, but i think i know what you mean." he warmed up to it as the idea sank in. "just what the hell _are_ you going to do?" "nothing very spectacular," chapman said, smiling. "i'm going to rent a room over times square, get a recording of a rikky-tik piano, and drink and listen to the music and watch the people on the street below. then i think i'll see somebody." "who's the somebody?" donley asked. chapman grinned. "oh, just somebody. what are you going to do, dick?" "well, i'm going to do something practical. first of all, i want to turn over all my geological samples to the government. then i'm going to sell my life story to the movies and then--why, then, i think i'll get drunk!" everybody laughed and chapman turned to klein. "how about you, julius?" klein looked solemn. "like dick, i'll first get rid of my obligations to the expedition. then i think i'll go home and see my wife." they were quiet. "i thought all members of the groups were supposed to be single," donley said. "they are. and i can see their reasons for it. but who could pass up the money the commission was paying?" "if i had to do it all over again? me," said donley promptly. they laughed. somebody said: "go play your record, chap. today's the day for it." the phonograph was a small, wind-up model that chapman had smuggled in when he had landed with the first group. the record was old and the shellac was nearly worn off, but the music was good. way back home by al lewis. * * * * * they ran through it twice. they were beginning to feel it now, chapman thought. they were going to go home in a little while and the idea was just starting to sink in. "you know, chap," donley said, "it won't seem like the same old moon without you on it. why, we'll look at it when we're out spooning or something and it just won't have the same old appeal." "like they say in the army," bening said, "you never had it so good. you found a home here." the others chimed in and chapman grinned. yesterday or a week ago they couldn't have done it. he had been there too long and he had hated it too much. the party quieted down after a while and dowden and bening finished getting into their suits. they still had a section of the sky to map before they left. donley was right after them. there was an outcropping of rock that he wanted a sample of and some strata he wished to investigate. and the time went faster when you kept busy. chapman stopped them at the lock. "remember to check your suits for leaks," he warned. "and check the valves of your oxygen tanks." donley looked sour. "i've gone out at least five hundred times," he said, "and you check me each time." "and i'd check you five hundred more," chapman said. "it takes only one mistake. and watch out for blisters under the pumice crust. you go through one of those and that's it, brother." donley sighed. "chap, you watch us like an old mother hen. you see we check our suits, you settle our arguments, you see that we're not bored and that we stay healthy and happy. i think you'd blow our noses for us if we caught cold. but some day, chap old man, you're gonna find out that your little boys can watch out for themselves!" but he checked his suit for leaks and tested the valve of his tank before he left. only klein and chapman were left in the bunker. klein was at the work table, carefully labeling some lichen specimens. "i never knew you were married," chapman said. klein didn't look up. "there wasn't much sense in talking about it. you just get to thinking and wanting--and there's nothing you can do about it. you talk about it and it just makes it worse." "she let you go without any fuss, huh?" "no, she didn't make any fuss. but i don't think she liked to see me go, either." he laughed a little. "at least i hope she didn't." * * * * * they were silent for a while. "what do you miss most, chap?" klein asked. "oh, i know what we said a little while ago, but i mean seriously." chapman thought a minute. "i think i miss the sky," he said quietly. "the blue sky and the green grass and trees with leaves on them that turn color in the fall. i think, when i go back, that i'd like to go out in a rain storm and strip and feel the rain on my skin." he stopped, feeling embarrassed. klein's expression was encouraging. "and then i think i'd like to go downtown and just watch the shoppers on the sidewalks. or maybe go to a burlesque house and smell the cheap perfume and the popcorn and the people sweating in the dark." he studied his hands. "i think what i miss most is people--all kinds of people. bad people and good people and fat people and thin people, and people i can't understand. people who wouldn't know an atom from an artichoke. and people who wouldn't give a damn. we're a quarter of a million miles from nowhere, julius, and to make it literary, i think i miss my fellow man more than anything." "got a girl back home?" klein asked almost casually. "yes." "you're not like dahl. you've never mentioned it." "same reason you didn't mention your wife. you get to thinking about it." klein flipped the lid on the specimen box. "going to get married when you get back?" chapman was at the port again, staring out at the bleak landscape. "we hope to." "settle down in a small cottage and raise lots of little chapmans, eh?" chapman nodded. "that's the only future," klein said. he put away the box and came over to the port. chapman moved over so they both could look out. "chap." klein hesitated a moment. "what happened to dixon?" "he died," chapman said. "he was a good kid, all wrapped up in science. being on the moon was the opportunity of a lifetime. he thought so much about it that he forgot a lot of little things--like how to stay alive. the day before the second group came, he went out to finish some work he was interested in. he forgot to check for leaks and whether or not the valve on his tank was all the way closed. we couldn't get to him in time." "he had his walkie-talkie with him?" "yes. it worked fine, too. we heard everything that went through his mind at the end." klein's face was blank. "what's your real job here, chap? why does somebody have to stay for stopover?" "hell, lots of reasons, julius. you can't get a whole relief crew and let them take over cold. they have to know where you left off. they have to know where things are, how things work, what to watch out for. and then, because you've been here a year and a half and know the ropes, you have to watch them to see that they stay alive in spite of themselves. the moon's a new environment and you have to learn how to live in it. there's a lot of things to learn--and some people just never learn." "you're nursemaid, then." "i suppose you could call it that." * * * * * klein said, "you're not a scientist, are you?" "no, you should know that. i came as the pilot of the first ship. we made the bunker out of parts of the ship so there wasn't anything to go back on. i'm a good mechanic and i made myself useful with the machinery. when it occurred to us that somebody was going to have to stay over, i volunteered. i thought the others were so important that it was better they should take their samples and data back to earth when the first relief ship came." "you wouldn't do it again, though, would you?" "no, i wouldn't." "do you think dahl will do as good a job as you've done here?" chapman frowned. "frankly, i hadn't thought of that. i don't believe i care. i've put in my time; it's somebody else's turn now. he volunteered for it. i think i was fair in explaining all about the job when you talked it over among yourselves." "you did, but i don't think dahl's the man for it. he's too young, too much of a kid. he volunteered because he thought it made him look like a hero. he doesn't have the judgment that an older man would have. that you have." chapman turned slowly around and faced klein. "i'm not the indispensable man," he said slowly, "and even if i was, it wouldn't make any difference to me. i'm sorry if dahl is young. so was i. i've lost three years up here. and i don't intend to lose any more." klein held up his hands. "look, chap, i didn't mean you should stay. i know how much you hate it and the time you put in up here. it's just--" his voice trailed away. "it's just that i think it's such a damn important job." klein had gone out in a last search for rock lichens and chapman enjoyed one of his relatively few moments of privacy. he wandered over to his bunk and opened his barracks bag. he checked the underwear and his toothbrush and shaving kit for maybe the hundredth time and pushed the clothing down farther in the canvas. it was foolish because the bag was already packed and had been for a week. he remembered stalling it off for as long as he could and then the quiet satisfaction about a week before, when he had opened his small gear locker and transferred its meager belongings to the bag. he hadn't actually needed to pack, of course. in less than twenty-four hours he'd be back on earth where he could drown himself in toothpaste and buy more tee shirts than he could wear in a lifetime. he could leave behind his shorts and socks and the outsize shirts he had inherited from--who was it? driesbach?--of the first group. dahl could probably use them or maybe one of the boys in the third. * * * * * but it wasn't like going home unless you packed. it was part of the ritual, like marking off the last three weeks in pencil on the gray steel of the bulkhead beside his hammock. just a few hours ago, when he woke up, he had made the last check mark and signed his name and the date. his signature was right beneath dixon's. he frowned when he thought of dixon and slid back the catch on the top of the bag and locked it. they should never have sent a kid like dixon to the moon. he had just locked the bag when he heard the rumble of the airlock and the soft hiss of air. somebody had come back earlier than expected. he watched the inner door swing open and the spacesuited figure clump in and unscrew its helmet. dahl. he had gone out to help dowden on the schmidt telescope. maybe dowden hadn't needed any help, with bening along. or more likely, considering the circumstances, dahl wasn't much good at helping anybody today. dahl stripped off his suit. his face was covered with light beads of sweat and his eyes were frightened. he moistened his lips slightly. "do--do you think they'll ever have relief ships up here more often than every eighteen months, chap? i mean, considering the advance of--" "no," chapman interrupted bluntly. "i don't. not at least for ten years. the fuel's too expensive and the trip's too hazardous. on freight charges alone you're worth your weight in platinum when they send you here. even if it becomes cheaper, bob, it won't come about so it will shorten stopover right away." he stopped, feeling a little sorry for dahl. "it won't be too bad. there'll be new men up here and you'll pass a lot of time getting to know them." "well, you see," dahl started, "that's why i came back early. i wanted to see you about stopover. it's that--well, i'll put it this way." he seemed to be groping for an easy way to say what he wanted to. "i'm engaged back home. really nice girl, chap, you'd like her if you knew her." he fumbled in his pocket and found a photograph and put it on the desk. "that's a picture of alice, taken at a picnic we were on together." chapman didn't look. "she--we--expected to be married when i got back. i never told her about stopover, chap. she thinks i'll be home tomorrow. i kept thinking, hoping, that maybe somehow--" he was fumbling it badly, chapman thought. "you wanted to trade places with me, didn't you, bob? you thought i might stay for stopover again, in your place?" it hurt to look in dahl's eyes. they were the eyes of a man who was trying desperately to stop what he was about to do, but just couldn't help himself. "well, yes, more or less. oh, god, chap, i know you want to go home! but i couldn't ask any of the others; you were the only one who could, the only one who was qualified!" * * * * * dahl looked as though he was going to be sick. chapman tried to recall all he knew about him. dahl, robert. good mathematician. graduate from one of the ivy league schools. father was a manufacturer of stoves or something. it still didn't add, not quite. "you know i don't like it here any more than you do," chapman said slowly. "i may have commitments at home, too. what made you think i would change my mind?" dahl took the plunge. "well, you see," he started eagerly, too far gone to remember such a thing as pride, "you know my father's pretty well fixed. we would make it worth your while, chap." he was feverish. "it would mean eighteen more months, chap, but they'd be well-paid months!" chapman felt tired. the good feeling he had about going home was slowly evaporating. "if you have any report to make, i think you had better get at it," he cut in, keeping all the harshness he felt out of his voice. "it'll be too late after the relief ship leaves. it'll be easier to give the captain your report than try to radio it back to earth from here." he felt sorrier for dahl than he could ever remember having felt for anybody. long after going home, dahl would remember this. it would eat at him like a cancer. cowardice is the one thing for which no man ever forgives himself. * * * * * donley was eating a sandwich and looking out the port, so, naturally, he saw the ship first. "well, whaddya know!" he shouted. "we got company!" he dashed for his suit. dowden and bening piled after him and all three started for the lock. chapman was standing in front of it. "check your suits," he said softly. "just be sure to check." "oh, what the hell, chap!" donley started angrily. then he shut up and went over his suit. he got to his tank and turned white. empty. it was only half a mile to the relief rocket, so somebody would probably have got to him in time, but.... he bit his lips and got a full tank. chapman and klein watched them dash across the pumice, making the tremendous leaps they used to read about in the sunday supplements. the port of the rocket had opened and tiny figures were climbing down the ladder. the small figures from the bunker reached them and did a short jig of welcome. then the figures linked arms and started back. chapman noticed one--it was probably donley--pat the ship affectionately before he started back. they were in the lock and the air pumped in and then they were in the bunker, taking off their suits. the newcomers were impressed and solemn, very much aware of the tremendous responsibility that rested on their shoulders. like donley and klein and the members of the second group had been when they had landed. like chapman had been in the first. donley and the others were all over them. * * * * * how was it back on earth? who had won the series? was so-and-so still teaching at the university? what was the international situation? was the sky still blue, was the grass still green, did the leaves still turn color in the autumn, did people still love and cry and were there still people who didn't know what an atom was and didn't give a damn? chapman had gone through it all before. but was ginny still ginny? some of the men in the third had their luggage with them. one of them--a husky, red-faced kid named williams--was opening a box about a foot square and six inches deep. chapman watched him curiously. "well, i'll be damned!" klein said. "hey, guys, look what we've got here!" chapman and the others crowded around and suddenly donley leaned over and took a deep breath. in the box, covering a thick layer of ordinary dirt, was a plot of grass. they looked at it, awed. klein put out his hand and laid it on top of the grass. "i like the feel of it," he said simply. chapman cut off a single blade with his fingernail and put it between his lips. it had been years since he had seen grass and had the luxury of walking on it and lying on its cool thickness during those sultry summer nights when it was too hot to sleep indoors. williams blushed. "i thought we could spare a little water for it and maybe use the ultraviolet lamp on it some of the time. couldn't help but bring it along; it seemed sort of like a symbol...." he looked embarrassed. chapman sympathized. if he had had any sense, he'd have tried to smuggle something like that up to the moon instead of his phonograph. "that's valuable grass," dahl said sharply. "do you realize that at current freight rates up here, it's worth about ten dollars a blade?" williams looked stricken and somebody said, "oh, shut up, dahl." one of the men separated from the group and came over to chapman. he held out his hand and said, "my name's eberlein. captain of the relief ship. i understand you're in charge here?" chapman nodded and shook hands. they hadn't had a captain on the first ship. just a pilot and crew. eberlein looked every inch a captain, too. craggy face, gray hair, the firm chin of a man who was sure of himself. "you might say i'm in charge here," chapman said. "well, look, mr. chapman, is there any place where we can talk together privately?" they walked over to one corner of the bunker. "this is about as private as we can get, captain," chapman said. "what's on your mind?" * * * * * eberlein found a packing crate and made himself comfortable. he looked at chapman. "i've always wanted to meet the man who's spent more time here than anybody else," he began. "i'm sure you wanted to see me for more reasons than just curiosity." eberlein took out a pack of cigarets. "mind if i smoke?" chapman jerked a thumb toward dahl. "ask him. he's in charge now." the captain didn't bother. he put the pack away. "you know we have big plans for the station," he said. "i hadn't heard of them." "oh, yes, _big plans_. they're working on unmanned, open-side rockets now that could carry cargo and sheet steel for more bunkers like this. enable us to enlarge the unit, have a series of bunkers all linked together. make good laboratories and living quarters for you people." his eyes swept the room. "have a little privacy for a change." chapman nodded. "they could use a little privacy up here." the captain noticed the pronoun. "well, that's one of the reasons why i wanted to talk to you, chapman. the commission talked it over and they'd like to see you stay. they feel if they're going to enlarge it, add more bunkers and have more men up here, that a man of practical experience should be running things. they figure that you're the only man who's capable and who's had the experience." the captain vaguely felt the approach was all wrong. "is that all?" eberlein was ill at ease. "naturally you'd be paid well. i don't imagine any man would like being here all the time. they're prepared to double your salary--maybe even a bonus in addition--and let you have full charge. you'd be director of the luna laboratories." all this and a title too, chapman thought. "that's it?" chapman asked. eberlein frowned. "well, the commission said they'd be willing to consider anything else you had in mind, if it was more money or...." "the answer is no," chapman said. "i'm not interested in more money for staying because i'm not interested in staying. money can't buy it, captain. i'm sorry, but i'm afraid that you'd have to stay up here to appreciate that. "bob dahl is staying for stopover. if there's something important about the project or impending changes, perhaps you'd better tell him before you go." he walked away. * * * * * chapman held the letter in both hands, but the paper still shook. the others had left the bunker, the men of the second taking those of the third in hand to show them the machinery and apparatus that was outside, point out the deadly blisters underneath the pumice covering, and show them how to keep out of the sun and how to watch their air supply. he was glad he was alone. he felt something trickle down his face and tasted salt on his lips. the mail had been distributed and he had saved his latest letter until the others had left so he could read it in privacy. it was a short letter, very short. it started: "dear joel: this isn't going to be a nice letter, but i thought it best that you should know before you came home." there was more to it, but he hadn't even needed to read it to know what it said. it wasn't original, of course. women who change their minds weren't exactly an innovation, either. he crumpled the paper and held a match to it and watched it burn on the steel floor. three years had been a long time. it was too long a time to keep loving a man who was a quarter of a million miles away. she could look up in the night sky when she was out with somebody else now and tell him how she had once been engaged to the man in the moon. it would make good conversation. it would be funny. a joke. he got up and walked over to his phonograph and put the record on. the somewhat scratchy voice sang as if nothing had happened way back home by al lewis. the record caught and started repeating the last line. he hadn't actually wanted to play it. it had been an automatic response. he had played it lots of times before when he had thought of earth. of going home. he crossed over and threw the record across the bunker and watched it shatter on the steel wall and the pieces fall to the floor. the others came back in the bunker and the men of the second started grabbing their bags and few belongings and getting ready to leave. dahl sat in a corner, a peculiar expression on his face. he looked as if he wanted to cry and yet still felt that the occasion was one for rejoicing. chapman walked over to him. "get your stuff and leave with the others, dahl." his voice was quiet and hard. dahl looked up, opened his mouth to say something, and then shut up. donley and bening and dowden were already in the airlock, ready to leave. klein caught the conversation and came over. he gripped chapman's arm. "what the hell's going on, chap? get your bag and let's go. i know just the bistro to throw a whing-ding when we get--" "i'm not going back," chapman said. klein looked annoyed, not believing him. "come on, what's the matter with you? you suddenly decide you don't like the blue sky and trees and stuff? let's go!" the men in the lock were looking at them questioningly. some members of the third looked embarrassed, like outsiders caught in a family argument. "look, julius, i'm not going back," chapman repeated dully. "i haven't anything to go back for." "you're doing a much braver thing than you may think," a voice cut in. it belonged to eberlein. chapman looked at him. eberlein flushed, then turned and walked-stiffly to the lock to join the others. just before the inner door of the lock shut, they could hear chapman, his hands on his hips, breaking in the third on how to be happy and stay healthy on the moon. his voice was ragged and strained and sounded like a top-sergeant's. * * * * * dahl and eberlein stood in the outer port of the relief ship, staring back at the research bunker. it was half hidden in the shadows of a rocky overhang that protected it from meteorites. "they kidded him a lot this morning," dahl said. "they said he had found a home on the moon." "if we had stayed an hour or so more, he might have changed his mind and left, after all," eberlein mused, his face a thoughtful mask behind his air helmet. "i offered him money," dahl said painfully. "i was a coward and i offered him money to stay in my place." his face was bitter and full of disgust for himself. eberlein turned to him quickly and automatically told him the right thing. "we're all cowards once in a while," he said earnestly. "but your offer of money had nothing to do with his staying. he stayed because he had to stay, because we made him stay." "i don't understand," dahl said. "chapman had a lot to go home for. he was engaged to be married." dahl winced. "we got her to write him a letter breaking it off. we knew it meant that he lost one of his main reasons for wanting to go back. i think, perhaps, that he still would have left if we had stayed and argued him into going. but we left before he could change his mind." "that--was a lousy thing to do!" "we had no choice. we didn't use it except as a last resort." "i don't know of any girl who would have done such a thing, no matter what your reasons, if she was in love with a guy like chapman," dahl said. "there was only one who would have," eberlein agreed. "ginny dixon. she understood what we were trying to tell her. she had to; her brother had died up here." "why was chapman so important?" dahl burst out. "what could he have done that i couldn't have done--would have done if i had had any guts?" "perhaps you could have," eberlein said. "but i doubt it. i don't think there were many men who could have. and we couldn't take the chance. chapman knows how to live on the moon. he's like a trapper who's spent all his time in the forests and knows it like the palm of his hand. he never makes mistakes, he never fails to check things. and he isn't a scientist. he would never become so preoccupied with research that he'd fail to make checks. and he can watch out for those who do make mistakes. ginny understood that all too well." "how did you know all this about chapman?" dahl asked. "the men in the first told us some of it. and we had our own observer with you here. bening kept us pretty well informed." * * * * * eberlein stared at the bunker thoughtfully. "it costs a lot of money to send ships up here and establish a colony. it will cost a lot to expand it. and with that kind of investment, you don't take chances. you have to have the best men for the job. you get them even if they don't want to do it." he gestured at the small, blotchy globe of blue and green that was the earth, riding high in the black sky. "you remember what it was like five years ago, dahl? nations at each other's throats, re-arming to the teeth? it isn't that way now. we've got the one lead that nobody can duplicate or catch up on. nobody has our technical background. i know, this isn't a military base. but it could become one." he paused. "but these aren't even the most important reasons, dahl. we're at the beginnings of space travel, the first bare, feeble start. if this base on the moon succeeds, the whole human race will be outward bound." he waved at the stars. "you have your choice--a frontier that lies in the stars, or a psychotic little world that tries and fails and spends its time and talents trying to find better methods of suicide. "with a choice like that, dahl, you can't let it fail. and personal lives and viewpoints are expendable. but it's got to be that way. there's too much at stake." eberlein hesitated a moment and when he started again, it was on a different track. "you're an odd bunch of guys, you and the others in the groups, dahl. damn few of you come up for the glamor, i know. none of you like it and none of you are really enthusiastic about it. you were all reluctant to come in the first place, for the most part. you're a bunch of pretty reluctant heroes, dahl." the captain nodded soberly at the bunker. "i, personally, don't feel happy about that. i don't like having to mess up other people's lives. i hope i won't have to again. maybe somehow, someway, this one can be patched up. we'll try to." he started the mechanism that closed the port of the rocket. his face was a study of regret and helplessness. he was thinking of a future that, despite what he had told dahl, wasn't quite real to him. "i feel like a cheap son of a bitch," eberlein said. * * * * * _the very young man said, "do they actually care where they send us? do they actually care what we think?"_ _the older man got up and walked to the window. the bunkers and towers and squat buildings of the research colony glinted in the sunlight. the colony had come a long way; it housed several thousands now._ _the sun was just rising for the long morning and farther down shadows stabbed across the crater floor. tycho was by far the most beautiful of the craters, he thought._ _it was nice to know that the very young man was going to miss it. it had taken the older man quite a long time to get to like it. but that was to be expected--he hadn't been on the moon._ _"i would say so," he said. "they were cruel, that way, at the start. but then they had to be. the goal was too important. and they made up for it as soon as they could. it didn't take them too long to remember the men who had traded their future for the stars."_ _the very young man said, "did you actually think of it that way when you first came up here?"_ _the older man thought for a minute. "no," he admitted. "no, we didn't. most of us were strictly play-for-pay men. the commission wanted men who wouldn't fall apart when the glamor wore off and there was nothing left but privation and hard work and loneliness. the men who fell for the glamor were all right for quick trips, but not for an eighteen-month stay in a research bunker. so the commission offered high salaries and we reluctantly took the jobs. oh, there was the idea behind the project, the vision the commission had in mind. but it took a while for that to grow."_ _a woman came in the room just then, bearing a tray with glasses on it. the older man took one and said, "your mother and i were notified yesterday that you had been chosen to go. we would like to see you go, but of course the final decision is up to you."_ _he sipped his drink and turned to his wife: "it has its privations, but in the long run we've never regretted it, have we, ginny?"_ war-lords of the moon by linton davies bruce ross, on the earth-moon run, asked a simple question, "how are the stars behaving, harry?" but harrell moore could only stare at him in horror. for the stars had run amok--cosmic engines of destruction in the hands of the twisted genius of the moon! [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories winter 1939. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] a faint quiver ran through the great hull of the rocket ship, and passed. the harsh drumming of her motors died to a singing drone. flight-commander bruce ross nodded absently. the ship had shaken off the earth-drag, and the speed indicator climbed fast. eleven, twelve hundred miles an hour, the flagship of the rocket-ship fleet sped on its way to the moon. he moved to the forward telescope at the side of the control cabin and squinted at their objective. the pale circular bulk of the moon loomed larger than when he had last observed it. he twisted to look through the rear telescope, and saw with satisfaction that the other seven ships of his fleet were following in echelon, each a mile and somewhat to the right of the one before it. ross grinned with pleasure. it wasn't his first trip to the moon, but on that earlier occasion, when magnus, king of the moon people, had pledged a truce with the earth's council of seven, he had commanded only the flagship. now he had his own flagship, larger and more powerful than that outmoded rocket ship of five years ago, and seven more fighting ships besides. he strolled over to stand behind his navigator, plump, bespectacled harrell moore, who was squinting strainedly through the star-scope. "how are the stars behaving, harry?" moore's forehead was corrugated with concern. without taking his eye from the scope he muttered softly, "something funny going on, bruce." he moved back to let his chief step to the eye-piece. but before the flight-commander could take the seat a sliding door opened with a bang. the two turned, startled. in the opening swayed a white-faced clerk. "sir," he gasped, "there's trouble with communications!" "well?" snapped ross. the clerk brushed sweat off his brow. "the ray-type machine's gone dead, sir, and the ray-phone's crippled. we get only a weak muffled voice from the council of seven headquarters!" "how about the blinkers from the other ships?" snapped ross. "blinkers are working, sir--" the clerk stopped short as ross jumped to the rear of the control room. "jorgens!" snapped ross. "signal each ship, and ask if they've--they can get seven headquarters on the ray-type!" "aye, sir!" the signal chief hastened to the blinker buttons and began to rap out the message. he was half through it when a dull boom echoed like a sigh through the control room. * * * * * ross and moore exchanged startled glances. jorgens, white of face, looked up, his hand poised as if paralyzed over the buttons. then ross jumped to the rear telescope, which commanded a view of his following seven ships. there were only six. where the seventh--the last in the staggered-line--should have been, a faint glow filled the air. ross stared at it, heart-sick. was that blow the last sign of his rear guard? a rocket ship blotted out--destroyed! but how? how? "jorgens!" he snapped. "you had the moon on the ray-type a while ago! try to get that peak one station again!" "aye, sir," breathed jorgens shakily. he tapped the black key, rattling the call signal feverishly, then snapped on the receiver. the prong-like type fingers made no move. "the ray-phone!" rasped ross. the signal chief plugged the yellow cylinder into its gray socket, and flashed the light beside it. "first fleet, calling peak one!" he chanted. "peak one, answer first earth fleet!" ross, moore and jorgens held their breath. no sound came through the ray-phone trumpet. jorgens lifted a gray face toward ross. the fleet commander smiled wryly. "let it go, jorgens. check all the batteries and connections before you try again." as jorgens nodded and disappeared to trail the snaky coils of insulated ray-tubes to their battery reserves, ross turned to moore. "number eight's gone," he said softly. moore blinked. "gone? where?" "where the woodbine twineth," said ross. moore's breath came faster. "wiped out?" he whipped off his spectacles and polished them absently, his jaw working on his half-forgotten chew of tobacco. "gone," he muttered dazedly. a sudden thought struck ross. he gripped his navigator's shoulder. "the stars! you said there was something funny going on!" moore's eyes flashed. "yes!" he slapped his glasses on. "come on! let me show you!" he led the way to the star-scope. ross, following, stopped as a signalman approached with a typed message--the answer to the blinker call that jorgens had started. the first sentence was short and blunt. "number two reports ray-type dead, ray-phone weak." messages from the other five ships were identical except in the case of number seven. an added sentence from the last ship of the line stood out on the page and ross felt sick inside as he read it. "number seven also reports explosion on right quarter where number eight was flying. no sign of number eight." * * * * * at the star-scope moore hovered as ross applied his eye to the powerful lens. "that's denabola you're on." the navigator's jaw worked, his eyes glittering. "dim," muttered ross. "clouds?" "no!" exploded moore. "denabola was bright as ever, then suddenly went dim!" ross sat up quickly, a question in his staring eyes. "you mean--the way the red stars go dim when we drain them of the red rays that power our ships and inter-planet communications?" "just that way," said moore, blinking in excitement. for a long moment their glances were locked. then ross heaved a stifled sigh. "this may mean a lot, harry," he murmured. "i wonder if it might not even mean--" "whatever happened to number eight?" asked moore quickly. slowly ross nodded. "let's see. denabola's a blue star. have you checked on any other blue stars?" moore took the seat at the star scope. "only vega. she's dim, too. let me get sirius." he twirled a knob at the side of the telescope barrel, then another, then straightened, with an explosive gasp. "look at sirius!" ross looked and caught his breath. sirius, the brightest star in all the firmament, was a dull lackluster thing. flight-commander bruce ross sat back at the star-scope and pushed his space helmet off his head. he ran a steady hand through his unruly blond hair, smoothing out the tight wrinkles in his broad forehead as if to silence the urgent question that hammered in his brain. something was happening in the heavens, and all his lore of flying and fighting might be none too much to set against the celestial puzzle. "harry," he asked finally, "the moon men know all about our red-ray work. do you suppose they've gone to work somehow on the blue stars?" moore screwed up his face, blinking behind his glasses. "well," he said finally, "there's horta." ross nodded. "i was thinking of horta," he admitted grimly. he had never forgotten horta, lord of the moon caverns, the darkly hostile savant who had held out so long at that fateful conference when the council of seven, rulers of the earth, had made their all-or-nothing flight to the moon, there to lay the question of peace or war before magnus, the moon king, and his lords. the seven had won horta over finally by offering him all the earth secrets of the red rays that had made earth-moon travel possible. they had even set up a ray reservoir in horta's great cavern, and had shown him how the harnessed rays could provide power for ships and explosive for sky-torpedoes. yet horta had never succeeded in building any but tiny ships that could barely circle the moon, and he had denied any success with the torpedoes. only on the ray-type and the ray-phone, essential to earth-moon intercourse, had he followed instructions with real results. * * * * * "blue rays, then?" muttered ross, staring at moore. he turned as jorgens appeared hesitantly. "well?" "garbled message by ray-phone from our earth station, sir. from censor trowbridge, apparently." jorgens handed over a sheet of paper. "we put it down as we heard it." ross and moore bent over it eagerly. "... trouble ... moon ... four ... magnus killed...." it ended with "... bridge." ross wheeled on jorgens. "magnus--killed? is that what you heard?" jorgens shook his head. "that's what it sounded like," he insisted. he flicked a hand at the ray-phone. "and that's all we got. she went dead on us. but," he added hopefully, "the ray-type seems to be coming to life." "good! work on it, jorgens. and try for the peak one moon station, or peak four." ross watched jorgens join the little group of signalmen toiling over the ray-type machine, and shook his head. "did you get that, harry? magnus killed." moore blinked inquiringly. "do we go on?" "go on?" ross hesitated. he read the mangled dispatch, then squared his shoulders. "nothing here about turning back. so on we go. heaven knows what we'll find." "magnus dead." moore shook his head. "who takes over?" "on the moon? i happen to know, because it came up at the conference five years ago. queen boada and the two chief lords form a council of three. that'll be boada, horta and artana, lord of the peaks. you remember him?" "sure." moore wagged his jaws, chewing reminiscently. "nice kid." "well, he was sixteen then. he'll be twenty-one, grown up. and say! remember the princess? illeria. she was fourteen, she'll be nineteen now. sweet kid." "skinny," grunted moore. "yes," ross agreed absently. "well, we'll get a welcome from boada and artana. maybe horta will kick up a fuss, but he's the minority." the ray-type machine came to life with a faint rattle. jorgens watched it critically, then stared as the words ran out on the page. he waited for the sentence to finish, then snatched the sheet from the machine and held it out in trembling fingers to ross. the message was brief. ross read it, shoved it at moore, and grasped the orders tube. "gun crews!" he sang out. "load fore and after torpedo tubes and stand by!" he waited for the "aye, sir!" to sound from both gun stations, then turned back to moore. the navigator was standing with jaw agape. he repeated the message word for word as if in a hypnotic spell. "nagasaki destroyed. purple death." ross shook his arm. "harry, snap out of it! we've got to fight!" "fight what?" asked moore dazedly. "i don't know," rapped ross savagely. "but at a guess, i'd say the purple death, whatever that may be!" ii the assistant navigator looked back from his post by the helmsman. "coming in to peak one, sir," he called. "what's our speed?" asked ross. "two thousand, sir." "cut her down to a thousand," commanded ross. "any signals from the peak?" the navigator shook his head nervously. "none yet, sir. shall i cut speed if they don't signal?" "yes," ross decided. "slow up as you see fit, and hover at fifty miles if they show no signal." he gestured to his chief navigator. "come on, harry, let's inspect ship." the two passed from the control room to the gleaming engines. here the silent engine crew hearkened to the pulse of the powerful rocket engine, and kept steady eyes on the gauges that showed the compressed ray fuel was feeding steadily into the discharger. out of the engine room they passed to the after gun station. ross tapped one of the six-inch torpedoes, and slapped one of the slim three-inch cylinders in the number two torpedo rack. "we may need them all soon," he told the station chief. the gunnery chief's eyes widened. "we'll be ready, sir. can you--is there anything i can tell the men about--number eight?" ross shook his head. "she's gone," he said briefly. "might have been an accidental explosion--but i don't think so. we're landing soon. just be ready, that's all." he swung away to the forward gun station, saw that all hands were alert, and led the way back to the control room. jorgens was pulling a sheet from the ray-type. he handed it over quickly. it was from the moon. "warning to earth fleet!" it began. "peak one wrecked. come in on peak four." and it was signed "artana." ross strode forward, his blue eyes blazing. "that's all, jorgens?" "no, sir. more coming now." he waited until the flying keys had rattled out two more lines, then ripped the sheet off. this message told more. "peak one wrecked by rebels who assassinated king magnus. signal systems at peaks one, two and three destroyed. greetings to commander ross. artana." "rebels!" exclaimed ross. "horta!" murmured moore. the chief signalman caught the name. "that louse!" he exclaimed in disgust. "pretended we couldn't teach him anything, the time we set up his systems for him. he's raising hell on the moon, commander?" ross frowned. "that's just a guess, jorgens," he reproved the signalman. "we only know this much for sure." he tapped the two sheets. "huh! ten to one that blue-nosed devil's in it," grumbled jorgens, turning back to the ray-type. "want to answer, chief?" "yes." ross thought rapidly. he spoke in a low tone to moore. "this might be a trap." moore blinked. "you mean, artana sent this to decoy us in to four and smash us?" "not artana," corrected ross. "horta." "gosh, yes!" moore fumbled his glasses off. "i hadn't thought of that! no reason why horta couldn't send a message in artana's name!" "it's a possibility," ross grinned sourly. he turned to jorgens. "send this: 'greetings to artana, lord of the peaks, from ross. coming in to peak four.' repeat it, too, in case they aren't getting it any too clear." he wheeled to the helmsman, noted the speed was cut down now to six hundred miles, and nodded approval. "change course for peak four." moore laid an urgent hand on his chief's arm as the helmsman obeyed. "say," bruce, this is risky!" "risky!" ross laughed shortly. "of course it's risky." "wouldn't it be better to stand off and wait for more news?" ross shook his head. his eyes blazed. "harry, there's a lot of hell breaking out on the earth and on the moon, too. we're in the middle. we can't be in both places, but we can find out--i hope--what's going on up here. and if we do, maybe we can put a heavy foot on what's happening to the earth. do you remember what trowbridge's message said?" moore's ordinarily placid features tightened. "the purple death," he whispered. "you're the boss, bruce. all i want is to get in on whatever happens!" * * * * * the earth fleet slid slowly down to the craters. the pale surface of the moon gleamed dully, phosphorescent, lambent where the rays of the sun struck crater tops. off to the left the high peak, peak number one to the earth visitors, loomed dark and sinister. but peak four showed all its lights, bright and steady. ross ordered the six following ships to stand off and await orders, or act on their own judgment if the flagship came to harm. then he took his place beside the helmsman. "take her down slow," he ordered. the rocket ship glided straight and sure for the brightest light. slowly the pin-point of white fire became a circle, then an oval. then it broke up into hundreds of lights surrounding a platform. the helmsman muttered an order, and the rocket ship, answering the urge of her flippers, dived briefly and straightened out into a glide. from the control windows the shape of the platform took form, and dim little figures could be seen scurrying on its edges. moore fidgeted uneasily. "we'll be duck soup for them if it's horta," he muttered. ross chuckled. "where's your sporting blood?" he jibed. "bet you even money it's artana." "that's an easy bet for you," retorted moore. "you won't live long enough to pay off if it's horta." the crew of the ship seemed to share his fears. every man hunched tense at his station. the ship glided lower, to three hundred feet. two hundred. she lost way almost entirely, and grounded with scarcely a jar. "nice set-down," ross complimented the helmsman. instantly the crew sighed in unison. tension was broken. they peered through the windows. "back to your stations!" rapped ross. he glanced through the control port and immediately saw a group advancing toward the ship. for an instant he held his breath. then he whooped. "it's artana!" the crew cheered, briefly, knowing nothing of the importance of that single identification. two artisans stood by the gangway, waiting. "secure your helmets, men!" shouted ross. he adjusted his own headgear, made sure that the thin tubes from his breastplate were feeding their tiny jets of oxygen to his nostrils, and signaled to the artisans. they threw the door wide, and ross stepped forth to meet artana. the young lord of the peaks came forward with a glad cry. "ross!" he exclaimed, and grasped the earth-man's hand warmly. "artana!" cried ross. he eyed the moon lord from head to foot, and grinned. "you've grown, lord of the peaks!" * * * * * the boy he remembered was indeed now a man. matching the six-foot ross in height, he stood straight and slender, carrying easily the weight of the ray-rifle slung on his shoulder, and the poison-pistol at his belt. he smiled briefly at the earth-man's sally, then sobered at once. "you come at a critical time," he murmured, pitching his voice so that his half-dozen followers could not hear. "the moon people are divided by revolt, and the fate of the kingdom is not easy to predict." he caught sight of moore. "ah, my friend harrell moore!" his hand went out in a warm clasp. "hi, artana," returned the navigator awkwardly. "you're looking great. what's the trouble? i'll guess it's horta." "softly!" uneasily the lord of the peaks glanced about him. "let us go to the peak chamber, where we may speak at ease." he led the way from the platform, halting only to allow ross to relay an order for his six ships to land. through a winding subterranean corridor they hastened to the council room of the peak, which marked the administrative center of one of artana's provinces. once inside the great room, artana led them to low divans of stone, covered and made comfortable with soft cellulose-like stuff that rustled as they moved. he gave them the news bluntly, without preamble. "horta has seized power in two-thirds of the kingdom," he cried, his voice breaking with emotion. "king magnus was killed, perhaps not by horta's orders--but who else would have plotted it? the assassination seemed to be the signal for an uprising--and horta issued a proclamation, as one of the three regents, declaring that he would act to preserve order in the caverns and the land beyond where the crater folk live. three of the peaks were overrun, and the signal systems were all destroyed. here at peak four, my soldiers were ready, and all the rebels were slain." "queen boada--and the princess illeria?" asked ross. "they are safe." artana twisted on his couch in his distress. "they were at peak five when the attacks were made, and are coming here, escorted by a strong body of my troops. i expect them soon. but you, my friends? how can i receive you, when my people are embroiled in civil war--for that is what it is?" ross waved his hand deprecatingly. "don't worry about us, artana. of course, we can't take sides here. we can help to preserve the regency, since the truce demands it. but there's one thing i'd like to ask." "of course, my friend." "have you heard of trouble on the earth?" artana looked up quickly. "we have had no word." "or--well, trouble in the sky?" artana shook his head, puzzled. ross answered his unspoken question. "one of our ships was destroyed on our flight from the earth. and i don't think it was an accident." "a rocket ship?" artana sat up. then his eyes flashed. "horta?" he murmured, as if asking himself a question. moore leaned forward. "has horta been up to anything in the ray business?" he asked eagerly. artana shook his head slowly. "lord horta and his savants have made progress in employing the r-ray, drawn from the red stars, as you taught him." he knit his brows. "i have heard of nothing else--but wait. he and his most learned men have worked secretly for many moons, i know not to what purpose. you think--" "we think," cut in ross grimly, "that it's possible that lord horta may be cooking up something new in the ray field." artana's face darkened. "if that is true," he murmured, "we may have the explanation of the disappearance of two of my brigades. i sent them out in force to scout horta's territory. no word has come from them." his hand clenched. "a war of rays--here on the moon!" * * * * * ross and moore exchanged uncomfortable glances. they had fought in the terrible war on the earth when nations battled with the new red ray, and whole fleets of the ancient steel warships were sunk by the first of the ray-torpedoes, before the council of seven was formed to rule all earthly affairs. and they had served in that first moon-flight, and had slain with rays the first moon armies who had resisted the intrusion of the earth-fleet. was history to repeat itself--in reverse, with horta's moon machines raking the earth with death? perhaps that strange purple death of the trowbridge message? ross made his resolve. "if your armies can't find out what horta's doing, artana, perhaps my fleet can." "your fleet?" artana looked up, a flicker of hope in his somber eyes. "you mean that you would fly over the caverns?" ross nodded. "and study the work he has done. photograph it, and report to you and the queen. if you then wish us to try to destroy it, i'll take the responsibility. i feel that the council of seven would approve." artana stood up, his eyes alight. "ah, ross! if you succeed, and bring peace to the moon people, your planet and mine will do you homage!" ross flushed sheepishly. "well, maybe. for my part i'd rather be overlooked. you know, there's an old, old saying where i come from, 'a hero today, a bum tomorrow.'" "a 'bum'?" echoed artana, puzzled. "a-a sort of--" ross remembered in time that there were no beggars on the moon. nor panhandlers, nor paupers, nor hobos. "oh, never mind. we'll take off in the first hour of light, and see what we can see." "in the meantime," artana hastened to say, "you must sleep." he ushered them into a circular chamber, the elevator that would take them to the spacious under-world of the moon. closing the door, he pressed a button. the resultant motion was almost imperceptible, but ross and moore knew they were being hurtled toward the moon's core at hundreds of miles an hour. almost instantly the chamber stopped, the shock of cessation being oddly cushioned. artana opened the door, and the three stepped into the great rotunda whence radiated the life and activity of the province of peak four. moon people hurried to and fro, only a few stopped to stare at the earth-men. bakers were hawking the curious brick-shaped loafs of bread, and the fruits that had grown from the seeds from the earth were stacked on stands. drapers stood by their gossamer-like fabrics. soldiers hurried to and fro in squads, and their presence explained to ross and moore the inhabitants' disinterest in the earth-men. the spacious chamber to which artana led them was guarded by two tall sentries, and tastefully furnished. the lord of the peaks cast a last glance about, said, "i shall call you at the first light," and vanished. moore sank gratefully down upon a high-piled bed. "well, if this is to be my last night's sleep, i'm going to do well with it." "you're always worrying," chaffed ross. but he lay, awake, mind racing, long after moore's even breathing denoted that the chubby navigator's fears had succumbed to his fatigue. iii artana awakened them as he had promised. his first words were of the widowed queen. "boada is here," he told ross. "she has slept, and will greet you after you have eaten." they breakfasted in the chamber, on food that artana had commandeered from the rocket ship, with some of the pale, delicious moon pears beside the familiar earth fare. artana talked fast as the two earth-men ate. "two of the cavern men came in with the queen." as the two flyers looked up in plain surprise, he smiled. "yes, they were horta's men. but they say they do not wish to serve him longer. they say he plans to rule the moon kingdom alone, and will make war with the earth." the two leaned forward, food forgotten. "did they say," asked ross, "how horta plans to make war? with what weapons?" artana shook his head sadly. "they deny all knowledge of such things. they are star savants, and they say all horta's war secrets are known only to his war chiefs." the flyers' disappointment impelled artana to go on. "they do say that horta and most of his forces are gathered in the great cavern, where all his secrets are kept. and that, too, is where he has set up his ray machines." ross narrowed his eyes. "the great cavern, eh? well, that's what we'll have a shot at." "you would have me accompany you?" artana asked eagerly. "ah, no, artana. you are needed here. what if horta were to make a sudden attack? you must give us a guide, though, to show us the great cavern. and i will leave my chief signalman, jorgens, so that we may keep in touch with you." artana assented, somewhat cast down. truly, the great cavern held a secret, and the lord of the peaks was as eager as any to learn it. but he regained his cheerfulness as they sought out the queen. she was in the great chamber where artana had first received the earth-men. erect and haughty, she sat on the central divan, regarding them with brooding eyes as they entered. so much ross saw before his glance went to the slim figure beside her. he caught his breath. a dream! a goddess! this girl--ah, yes, the princess illeria. but a woman now! not the scrawny girl of five years ago. ross tore his eyes from her with a jerk. artana was presenting him to the queen widow. "--commander ross, leader of the earth-fleet, was a visitor at court five years ago," artana reminded the queen. she extended her hand, surveying him with a softening of her austere expression. as he bent over it she said in a harsh voice that was obviously held steady with an effort, "commander ross, you come at an unhappy time." ross murmured condolences, then plunged into the subject that was filling him with impatience. "i seek permission from you, queen, and from the lord artana to fly over the caverns and report on conditions there." queen boada darted a sharp glance at artana, then averted her head. "i see no occasion for such a flight," she said curtly. artana stepped forward. "a rebellion, o queen? surely that is occasion enough?" she met his eyes, frowning. "but these are not our people." "yet," argued artana, "the earth people are at peace with us." ross saw the princess regarding her mother curiously. moore, too, was staring in frank astonishment at the queen. as she sensed their intent regard she relaxed her rigid pose. "oh, very well. but there shall be no fighting?" "none, o queen," ross hastened to say. artana nodded with satisfaction. "there remains, then, the finding of a guide for the fleet. i could send calisto--" the princess spoke for the first time. "calisto has not the gift of the earth-tongue. who guides the commander ross must speak the tongue he knows best." "that's true," muttered artana, taken aback. "who, then--" * * * * * the princess was looking at ross. almost hostilely, he thought confusedly. had she resented his long open stare? she was such a picture, clad in only a single filmy garment, caught at the waist with a gold twisted belt and cut tunic-like at the knee. bare-armed, with softly swelling contours and a skin like peach down, she was an entrancing sight. his confused thoughts were set at rest. the princess had a plan. "i shall go with the commander ross," she said. the queen turned sharply. artana scowled. "no, no!" he cried sharply. "if there should be fighting--" "fighting?" echoed boada in a whip-like tone. "no, no, not fighting," artana hastened to correct himself. "but danger, perhaps." boada's brooding gaze came to rest inquiringly on ross. "there can be no danger, i think," he assured her. and wondered why he did so. for if horta was on the war path, surely the earth ships would be his targets. he felt his heart beat faster as he considered the possibility of this amazing girl standing beside him in the control room of his flagship, then a moment of depression as he reflected that the queen would refuse her consent. but to his surprise boada, after one dark look at the lord of the peaks, nodded. they left at once. there was a moment of delay when illeria, given an oxygen helmet, demurred at the idea of wearing it until she was convinced that it would save her life if the shell of the rocket ship were pierced in the upper air. she wore it with ease, the straps fitting snugly over the flowing golden locks and the oxygen tubes crossing her face to add to the piquant enigmatic look she wore. the flagship took off with a rush, the six following ships keeping their distance. once in the air, they formed the echelon. then ross turned to the princess, and led her to the telescopes trained through the floor of the ship. she studied the crater surfaces wonderingly, like a child with a strange toy. then she remembered her duty. "sail there," she directed, pointing. amusedly, ross gave the order. privately artana had given him a full description of the great cavern, so that once he had sighted it he could map his own course. but the girl had guided him truly. in a few minutes the yawning chasm lay on their bow. he called moore. "all the cameras set?" "all set," grunted moore, squinting through a glass. "going to skirt the cavern?" ross nodded. "no use tipping horta off at the outset. we may get a good look without his knowing we're here." as the last word left his lips a cry from the port lookout froze the three in their places. they turned, fearfully. the lookout's face was working. as they watched, tears began to stream down his face. he tried to speak, but he could only point. ross sprang to the window. the sky was clear, save for the following ships. number two, and four, and five. six? where was six? and seven? he whirled on the lookout. the man gulped, drew a deep breath, and said huskily, "there was a flash, sir, and--and then--nothing! nothing, where number seven was flying! and then number six--went the same way!" ross and moore stared frantically at one another. then ross sprang to the signal post. "jorgens! where's jorgens?" a white-faced signalman spoke up. "he's back at peak four, sir." "oh, yes." ross in his agitation had forgotten. "well, signal ships two, three, four and five to sheer off the cavern and return to peak four!" the man sprang to obey. ross turned to order the course changed. but the crashing din that followed silenced him. his body hurtled against the stanchion, and suddenly he found his arms about the princess illeria. * * * * * her body was soft to his touch, her silky hair caressed his cheek, her breath sweet on his face. but he pushed her aside, and cried out to the helmsman, "how does she fly?" the helmsman, craning his neck as he curled an arm about the wheel, shouted back, "on even keel, sir, but she won't steer!" ross pushed the princess unceremoniously from him and stood erect. he rushed to the window and saw with relief that the ship was circling away from the crater. gauges showed that the ship flew steady except for that odd circling. an artisan, bursting into the control room from the after gun station, explained the mystery. "one rudder flange haywire, sir!" "so that's it!" ross spoke calmly. "shot away?" the man's face worked. "burned away, sir!" "burned--" ross thought fast. he nodded to the artisan, who departed with a scared look about. moore had heard the report. he whistled. "burned away, huh? sounds like a b-ray." "b-ray? what's that?" snapped ross. "b for blue," explained moore affably. "horta's draining the blue stars, or i'm no harvard man." ross eyed the navigator narrowly. "you really think that?" "what else?" countered moore calmly. "horta was a washout on the r-ray--and besides, our red ray doesn't burn like that. i think horta's got something." ross turned to the helmsman, then studied the chart that artana had provided. "we can circle just like this, and make peak four if we can cut that drag a bit. try reducing the speed." it worked. at reduced speed the ship flew more truly, with less pressure on the rudder. ross sighed in relief. "keep her there." he spied the princess leaning against the stanchion, and walked over. "quite a scare, wasn't it?" she regarded him steadily. "you do not like me?" he gaped at her. "why do you say that?" "you pushed me away from you." "oh, that!" ross was nettled. "a man must fight his ship, princess." "yes." she nodded agreement. "but i was afraid. i thought we were doomed. and i wished you to be with me. it is not given to every woman to die with the man of her choice. and you are the man i wish for." ross stared open-mouthed. "say-ay!" he asked cautiously. "you didn't get a knock on the head, did you?" she shook her head unsmilingly. "the earth-girls, they do not speak so to men?" "i'll say they don't," ross assured her feelingly. "oh!" said the princess illeria in a small voice. ross didn't know what to say then. "well," he exclaimed, "we'll soon be back at peak four." he was right. but grim news awaited them at the peak. iv artana met them, his face a thundercloud. he handed ross a ray-typed message. "this came just before you landed," he said tensely. before ross could read the message, the name signed to it caught his eye. horta! the lord of the caverns was coming out of his silence! and with what a greeting! "know, o queen," read horta's message, "that i have destroyed three of the earth-ships, as i shall destroy all who fly against the destiny of the moon kingdom. know, too, that i have destroyed a second earth city, the place called los angeles, as a warning to the earth people that their destiny is not ours." ross read it with a sinking heart. los angeles! a city of two million people, destroyed! then it was horta who had wiped out nagasaki! moore pounced on that thought. "nagasaki, then los angeles!" he muttered. ross turned to artana. "any other news?" artana shook his head. "no. but i have a plan. you know that when the rains come we store them in the great reservoirs, so that our under-world may not be flooded. then why not loose the waters in the reservoirs, and flood the caverns?" ross stared in admiration. but he slowly shook his head. "you'd have to kill half your people, artana, just to dispose of horta." "but," argued artana desperately, "horta will destroy half our people himself, to seize the kingdom. and he will destroy the earth folk, too!" moore spoke up. "the reservoirs are full?" "no," admitted artana. "the rains have not been heavy. the reservoirs are but half full." he sighed. "horta might escape the flood." "that's no good, then," ross said emphatically. "tell you what, moore and i will go and scout the cavern on foot. we may be able to get near enough to the ray works to smash 'em." "you would die," artana said somberly. "horta guards his cavern well." ross nodded. "maybe. but there's no other chance. horta can knock us down out of the air, and he's knocking earth cities to dust. he must be stopped. if we die, you can hold out on the peaks, and flood him out when the rains come." "that's right, artana," moore agreed. "but let me go, chief. i'll take a couple of good men. you stay here." "no dice, harry," ross assured him firmly. "i'm the head man and it's my job. i'd like to have you along, though." "sure," said moore mildly. artana regarded them with admiration. "you are brave men! but what can i do?" "just sit tight, artana, and wait for the rain to fall," grinned moore. "and when it comes, avenge us." "that will i!" swore artana. * * * * * they set out in the dark, moore and ross and the guide whom artana had indicated with a gesture. they had covered only half a mile when ross turned sharply, suspiciously, to the guide. "sure you speak the earth tongue?" he demanded. "if you do, why can't you say something?" the guide threw back the cowl-like head covering and ross caught his breath. "illeria! what are you doing on this tour?" "i go to die with you, my lord," said the princess simply. "my lord!" squawked moore. "excuse me!" he walked forward hurriedly. ross, his face burning in the gloom, took illeria's arm roughly. "this is no job for you, princess! there will be danger!" "even death," agreed the slim princess equably. "no matter. and the lord artana is agreed that i go." "artana agreed?" ross was taken aback. he looked ahead to where moore waited, looked back over the way they had come, then shrugged. "oh, well! here we go!" happily illeria caught his arm, and they strode forward. moore chuckled in the dark. "everything settled?" "yes, dammit," grated ross. "did you ever see such a mess?" moore's reply was sober. "we couldn't have a better guide," he pointed out. "and we know the princess is loyal. how could we be sure of some other guide? a jigger who might sell us out to the first horta sentry?" * * * * * ross grunted agreement, and they trudged on. they saw no one, heard no one, until the first of the craters lay behind, and the moon terrain sloped down and down into the caverns. they came upon the first two sentries suddenly. both swung their ray-guns up, but moore was quicker. his gas-pistol spat twice, and the sentries crumpled. "are they dead?" asked the princess, amazed. "dead to the world--er, i should say, dead to the moon," ross assured her. "they'll stay that way twelve hours, which ought to be long enough for us." moore chuckled. "before then we'll be on top of the world--i mean on top of the moon--or dead heroes." the way was easy, a steady down slope, for a while. then the rock formations began. they slipped and crawled. the princess suffered a cut on her knee, but shrugged at the suggestion of a bandage. the second set of sentries were easily overpowered. they lolled at ease against a ridge, and ross shot twice to gas them to sleep. here the light was better, and ross paused to look them over. they were darker than the peak men, with less color, and their veins stood out against their blue-white skin. they bore the ray-rifle of all the moon soldiers, and another curious weapon besides, a jagged-edged sword with a hooked point. "it's the old moon sword," said illeria. "horta worships the old customs, and swears by the beliefs of the astrologers. it's the astrologers who direct his actions, my mother had said." "it's a dirty weapon," shuddered moore. "i'll take a ray-gun any time." he came within an ace of regretting his choice a moment later, when a whole squad of soldiers rounded an outcrop of rock. ross whispered a warning, and shot fast. moore went into action then, but not before one of the horta men had fired. the ray blasted past them and sheared off a half-ton of rock behind them. "whew, that was close," gasped moore as the last of the soldiers fell. "how about ray-guns now?" gibed ross. "do you know, i think we're in luck. this party is evidently supposed to relieve the sentries we met--so there'll be no alarm over their condition." "you're right!" exclaimed moore. "now all we have to do is to get to that ray machine!" they stood within sight of it when the heavy hand of horta fell. * * * * * in the shadows of the cavern they had crept from arsenal to foundry, until they had inspected from far or near every establishment in this dim and fearsome chasm. and finally they saw it, a great cylinder nestling deep in the ground and looming high in the cavern, supported by guy beams of gleaming metal. "a ray-gun!" cried moore. his incautious exclamation was their undoing. a half-clad foundry worker, looking like a gnome in his eye-shade helmet and drooping gauntlets, gaped at them. ross shot a split second too late to stop the shout of alarm. the foundryman dropped, but a dozen soldiers came on the run. moore and ross fired and fired again, but they went down in a charge of scores of horta soldiers. the flat of a sword struck ross a stunning blow on the side of his head. he came to his senses to find himself in a strange room, bound hand and foot and prone on a stone floor. beside him was moore. "where are we?" muttered ross. "in horta's headquarters," whispered moore. "here's horta." ross twisted his head. he blinked. for horta was an eyeful. the lord of the caverns was a giant. fully seven feet tall, he must have weighed four hundred pounds. but he bore his great bulk with ease and a certain dignity. he strode over to the two prisoners, looked them over with curiosity but without visible rancor, and spoke sharply to a guard in the moon tongue. the guard hastened to free the two flyers. they exchanged glances of surprise. "you don't suppose he's a pal in disguise?" asked moore blandly. he looked up with a start when he heard a rumbling chuckle. horta was amused. "no, earth-man. you are prisoners. but i have no need to bind you, for you cannot escape. yet you need not fear death, for if you will stay and serve me you shall have life and all the blessings that will be showered upon a new kingdom." "new kingdom?" moore blinked. "it's a regency, isn't it?" horta's great laugh boomed out. "nay! i am the king! and for my queen--well, you have delivered her to me!" ross sat up and stared. "you mean--illeria?" horta chuckled as he nodded. "illeria!" ross stifled a curse. his mind raced. the girl was a prisoner, too. he spoke aloud, easily. "well, i guess we can give your royal highness a hand." "hey, bruce!" moore expostulated. "you don't mean--" "why not?" drawled ross. turning to face moore, he winked. "we know a lot that will pay our way with the new kingdom." moore blinked. "of course!" he assented hastily. "sure!" horta stared suspiciously at the two flyers. "make sure, then, that you have no secret longings to return to earth," he warned heavily. "for henceforth there shall be no intercourse between moon and earth. the truce is ended." ross ventured a question. "what'll you do with the men of the peaks?" horta smiled grimly. "they will submit, or die." he gestured imperiously, and the guards pushed the flyers forward as horta strode from the room. as they trailed behind, moore whispered, "he doesn't look like a killer." "probably a fanatic," ross muttered. "what's the play?" "watch our chance, and wreck the ray machine." "and us with it," grumbled moore. "most likely," ross agreed. they entered a softly lit room, in the wake of horta. as their eyes became accustomed to the dim light they gasped. there was illeria. but beside her was the queen--boada! * * * * * she swept them with a glance in which contempt was mingled with a kind of pity. "you did not expect to see me here," she said harshly. "but i serve the destiny of the moon. the wise men have shown me that the moon was never destined to serve the earth, but must stand with the blue stars when the universe is rent asunder. and now the moon is ready to defend itself, thanks to the new king horta!" in the silence that followed ross heard the girl gasp. the queen spoke softly. "and you, my daughter, shall be the new queen, wife of the almighty horta the liberator." "not," ross muttered between his teeth, "if i can help it." "me, too," whispered moore. the girl said nothing. but her eyes sought ross with piteous entreaty. horta broke the silence. "the nuptials shall be solemnized in tomorrow's full light. you, earth-men, shall remain under guard until you have given earnest proof of your fealty." the guards punched the two as horta rapped an order in the moon tongue, and they allowed themselves to be led away. through a dim corridor they passed, and into a stone cell, with oddly fashioned stone bars and a door that slid on a metal base, locking them into their tomb. ross circled the cell, then shook his head. "we couldn't get out of this without a ray machine," he muttered. moore sat down against a wall. "guess not. say, bruce, did you hear the old girl?" "the universe is to be rent asunder," grunted ross. "where does that leave us?" "behind the eight ball, as i believe they used to say back in the twentieth century," grinned moore. "that is, that's where we would be if the universe really were to be rent asunder." "oh!" grunted ross in heavy sarcasm. "so it isn't going to happen?" "gosh, no," chuckled moore. "it's the silliest kind of astrological fake, discredited two centuries ago. where horta picked it up i don't know. probably he got some power from the blue stars by accident, and his faker astrologists strung him along on the big bust-up idea." "nice clean fun," muttered ross. "well, we missed. horta's still got his ray machine. he's also got the princess--and the queen for an ally." "he's also," amended moore dryly, "got us." "and how," grunted ross. "how long do you suppose we'll last if we don't--" he stopped abruptly. a faint noise came to his ears. "hear that?" he asked, puzzled. moore cocked his head to one side. "running water," he remarked. "they haven't got a river down--" a scream, faint and far away, took his breath away. another sounded, and then a chorus, dimmed by space and the stone walls. suddenly ross and moore whirled to face one another. "artana!" cried ross. "he's opened the reservoirs!" gasped moore. they leaped to their feet. ross tried the door, savagely. moore broke the skin of his hands on the stout stone bars of the window. in a moment, water was swirling at their feet. moore stared down at it gloomily. "i was two days on a raft in the middle of the atlantic," he sighed, "and i didn't drown." the water rose to their knees. v ross tugged at the door. "you aren't drowned yet. how did this door open?" "from the outside," grumbled moore, tugging with his chief. "it rolled--ha! it's opening! we've got it!" the door was sliding open. a rush of water swept them half off balance, and they splashed into the flood when the princess illeria catapulted into them. "princess!" yelled moore. "good girl!" ross gripped her arm. "what's going on?" "panic," she panted, clinging to him. "horta and his steadiest men are at the ray machine, fighting to keep the water out of the ray reservoir. the queen went with him. i'm--afraid--" "cheer up," ross consoled her. "and let's get out of this." he led the way out of the cell. water was waist deep in the corridor. ross pointed up an incline, where the swirling waters ran thinly. "looks good," he suggested. he whirled then on illeria. "where do you suppose we could get some guns?" "what good would they do?" growled moore. "there's that ray machine," ross reminded him. "oh! yes. but--" moore shot a glance at the princess. "don't forget--the queen--" ross scowled. "i know." illeria touched his arm. "if the queen must die, that the moon people and the earth folk may be saved, let it be so," she urged simply. the two men bit their lips. "come!" urged the girl. "there is a guardroom above. there must be weapons." "i could use one of those antique hook-'em swords on old horta," growled moore. they burst into the guardroom prepared for sudden and violent action. but the great chamber was empty of moon men. on the walls hung ray rifles. ross and moore each snatched one. "now where?" asked moore. ross surveyed the room. windowed on all sides, it had only two doors, the one they had entered and another opposite. "we'll try that," ross decided. "what we've got to find now is a spot that commands the square where the ray machine is bedded." the sloping corridor led them to such a spot. on a balcony they stood and for a moment were content to watch horta's artisans toiling with sandbags and debris to make barricades against the flood. "they'll do it, too," moore said aloud, voicing his chief's thought. "artana's trick was probably just to help us out," ross judged. "he hadn't enough water to flood 'em out." moore fidgeted. "let's do something, bruce! there's that ray reservoir. think these pop-guns will punch a hole in it?" ross raised his rifle, and lowered it as suddenly. for into sight, beside the giant horta, walked queen boada. moore exclaimed under his breath, fingering his rifle. it was the princess illeria who, snatching the rifle from moore's hands, leveled it swiftly and fired. as ross sought to snatch it from her she faced him defiantly. "let destiny rule us!" she exclaimed. "my mother is an unhappy woman who stands in the way of peace. let me fire again!" her demand left ross irresolute. as he held her hand, moore cried out. "they spotted that shot, bruce! they're looking for us!" it was true. horta stood, legs spread, his fierce glance sweeping the open space. workers had begun to drop sandbags and pick up guns. ross loosed his hold. "let's fire together, then," he said heavily. "the double shot may pierce that thick metal. aim at the muddy mark, illeria! ready--fire!" the two rifles spat together. moore yelled, "you've done it! duck--fast!" they could not take cover fast enough. ross had one glimpse of a tremendous sheet of flame licking out of the hole they had blasted, saw its counterpart high in the sky at the mouth of the ray cylinder, heard a great roar, and seemed to know nothing else. * * * * * he regained consciousness on the platform of peak four, where his flagship, now repaired, rested airily. artana, moore and illeria bent over him solicitously. "what happened?" he asked, fretfully. artana spoke soberly. "the queen is dead." he turned to illeria, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head. "long live the queen!" ross glanced at moore. the navigator winked. "order is restored, chief," he explained. "that blow-up finished horta and all his works. and earth is on the phone. all serene there, since the los angeles disaster. you are ordered to return and report." illeria dropped to her knees beside ross. "you will not go? you will stay--and my people shall make you king!" ross looked long into her eyes, and the earth seemed far away and an unreal world. but he slowly shook his head as he rose and gently lifted her to her feet. "i must go, illeria," he said. "but--perhaps i shall return. good-bye, artana, you will restore peace to the moon." the lord of the peaks bowed his head, "that i will, farewell, ross!" with one last glance at the white-faced princess, ross nodded shortly to moore. they strode to their ship without a backward glance. at a curt order the helmsman took her off, and in seconds the two figures on peak four's platform had dwindled to specks. "you can come back," moore grunted. "think so?" "sure. when the council hears what you've done they'll give you twenty years' leave. with pay." ross smiled. and the smile lingered as he turned to jorgens to dictate a message for the earth. the rocket ship droned on through space. the moon destroyers by monroe k. ruch [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from wonder stories quarterly winter 1932. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [illustration: the tremendous speed of the dive brought them so close that they could see the skeletons of wrecked ships piled up at the base of the precipice.] * * * * * monroe k. ruch the moon is not only the most prominent object in our heavens, but also an integral part of the earth. we are, so to speak, an astronomical unit, and we affect each other for better or for worse. we know that the gravitational attraction of the moon causes our tides, and tends to slow up the earth in her daily rotation. it has also been deemed responsible for earthquakes, causing untold suffering among earth's people. but so far the effect of the moon has been rather an inhuman affair. no man has gone to the moon to see just what conditions are there, and to observe accurately the influence that the moon and earth exercise over each other. but when interplanetary travel does come, when commerce between moon and earth may possibly assume importance in our lives, the influence of the moon upon us may be more accurately determined. and when it is, the amazing series of incidents, pictured in this story, may yet come true. * * * * * professor erickson, head of the international seismographical institute, sat with bowed head and pale face, watching the stylus of the instrument before him trace its path on the slowly revolving drum. the laboratory, situated high in the himalayas, trembled slightly as mid-winter storms roared and whistled around it, but something quite different, and infinitely more sinister, was causing the needle to wander from its ordinarily straight path. suddenly, with horrible certainty, it jumped, wavered back and forth, and then moved rapidly to the right, until its black ink no longer traced a line on the white paper. "holden," shouted erickson to his assistant, "what does the direction and distance finder tell us? the stylus has run clear off the graph." young jack holden was working feverishly over the dials and levers of the panel before him. slender yet strong, he looked like a long-bow of stout old yew as he bent to the task. his steel gray eyes focused intently on the verniers, taking the readings. the muscles in his tanned cheeks were tight as he turned toward his superior. for a moment the very storm seemed to hush, awaiting the words. then he spoke. "it's the laurentian fault!" for a moment both men stared at each other, stunned and helpless. "that means," holden managed to say, "that new york is a mass of ruins." pictures were forming in his mind; he saw the huge steel and glass towers of the city, tossed and torn by the convulsive writhings of the earth beneath. great engineers had said that the city was safe, that no tremors would ever disturb it, but they knew nothing of the terrific force of such a shock as this. those massive buildings, thousands of feet high, would now be mere heaps of twisted junk. holden closed his eyes to shut out the picture, but to no avail. his sister! god! she was probably one of the millions who now lay, crushed, bleeding and helpless beneath the wreckage of the too-proud metropolis. "my boy," the professor was speaking, "we must stay with our work, no matter what happens." his voice was low; his entire family had been wiped out, without doubt, but science must be served. for hours the two sat before their instruments, as shock after shock was recorded. jones came down from the television room above, and his report confirmed their observations in horrible detail. "all communications from the city itself are cut off, but an airliner from england, which was about to dock, has broadcast the scene. aid is being rushed from all over the world, but at a conservative estimate ten million are already dead, and millions more will probably die, buried and hidden as they are beneath the wreckage." at last, nearly five hours after the first shock, the professor stood up. "i think that is all. my prophecies have come true, and at last my theories will be needed. but the cost of it all, the horrible cost!" * * * * * two weeks later a group of men were seated around the conference table in the spacious offices of the department of public safety of the world union. all faces were turned toward the stooped figure of professor erickson, who was speaking from the head of the table. "gentlemen, i have outlined to you, only too briefly, the damage caused by the quake a few days ago. i now state that a repetition of such a disaster is imminent. great faults have formed in the basic granites throughout the entire globe. observations recorded during five centuries since the first conception of the idea by dr. maxwell allen in 1931, show conclusively that earth-tides, set up by the attraction of the moon, cause a sweeping series of stresses and strains. these, coming to a fault, produce earthquakes. now that there are huge faults in the basic rock, these quakes will be of a tremendous force and range which the most modern structures will be unable to resist." "professor," spoke john dorman, secretary of public safety, "if all this is true, and we are assured that it is, what on earth can be done about it?" "gentlemen, during nearly seventy years i have studied that problem, and i have come to only one conclusion. nothing on earth can be done about it, if you permit the remark, but men from earth can do something. _destroy the moon!_" a gasp went up from the great men assembled there. erickson's colleagues nodded in helpless agreement. "but how?" the question came from all sides. famous engineers looked at each other questioningly. "gentlemen." this was a new voice, young and full of energy. "mr. holden," responded the chairman. "professor erickson was so kind as to confide in me several years ago, and since then i have been at work on this problem. i have solved it." eager interest shone on all faces. jack holden was known and liked by many of these men, despite his youth. his discovery of _hexoxen_, the chemical which turned solid matter into almost intangible vapor, had created quite a stir in scientific circles. he now continued his address. "if all the resources of earth are made use of, it would be possible to produce hundreds of tons of _hexoxen_ and sufficient amounts of the element europium to act as a catalyst. that would be plenty to reduce the moon to a gaseous state. the clouds of gas could then be penetrated by anti-gravitational screens, which would cause the smaller pieces to drift off into space, where they will do no harm whatsoever." several distinguished engineers nodded their heads. one of them spoke. "mr. secretary, the plan is entirely feasible. i move that mr. holden be given permission to make use of all the necessary resources to carry out his plan, and that he be placed in sole charge, assisted by an advisory board of which professor erickson shall be chairman." the motion was carried, the papers drawn up, and the meeting adjourned. holden grasped professor erickson firmly by the arm and hurried him to the elevator. "we've got just five minutes to get to the port. we're catching the first airliner for san francisco. there are three of the latest model mars-earth freighters there, which we will use for our expedition. we will also be near the best source of europium. hurry." as the elevator shot downward, the old professor endeavored to congratulate holden on his appointment. "forget it. this was your idea, and they should have named you leader of the expedition, but that really doesn't make much difference. anything you say goes, see?" a crowd was milling around the entrance to the western hemisphere tunnel. an official tried to stop holden and his companion as they pushed their way through the crowd. "the liner is leaving. you can't go in there." "oh, we can't, huh? here." a single glance at the paper shoved under his nose, and the gatekeeper came to life. "right this way, you're just in time." the three ran out on top of the building, where the beautiful silver shape of the liner floated at the top of a short tower. an officer was just giving the command to cast loose, but as holden shouted to him, he countermanded it, for special orders from the union had to be obeyed, even if schedules were spoiled. * * * * * nodding their thanks to the now obsequious gateman, the two scientists hurried up the ladder that had been dropped for them; again came the shouted "cast off," and the huge liner, impelled by powerful motors, rose rapidly to the high altitude at which she traveled. "message for you, sir," said a pleasant voice at holden's elbow, and he turned. a neatly uniformed boy held out to him a thin envelope. breaking the seal, he read rapidly. "will you show us in to the captain, please," he addressed the boy as he finished the message. the lad nodded, and led them down a long hall to the bow of the ship and up to the bridge. "mr. holden, i presume? and professor erickson? i am captain linet." the captain was an immense man, well over six feet, with the build of a prizefighter. his face was pleasant, but there was an expression of intense sorrow in his deep blue eyes. "i understand that you have been appointed to head an expedition to the moon, the nature of which has not been revealed, but which will do away forever with the earthquakes which have become so prevalent. i wish to join that expedition. my beloved wife was in new york at the time of the last quake. you understand." holden nodded sympathetically. he would be glad to have all the men like this he could find, and he expressed that opinion to the captain. "thank you. i will resign my position when we reach san francisco, and will await your orders." "but, captain," holden asked, "how did you know that i was head of the expedition?" "oh, the news has been broadcast everywhere, with instructions to give you any aid possible. but no information was given as to the exact nature of the trip. could i be trusted--?" "why certainly. we are going to destroy the moon, wipe it out of existence, so that it will cease to exert the tremendous gravitational pull that has been causing--." at that moment a petty officer appeared behind the captain. "have you any further orders concerning the cargo to be dumped at new orleans?" "no. i thought i gave you to understand that there were to be no more additions to that cargo. didn't you hear me?" "i beg your pardon, sir," the man said, and walked away. "i wonder how much of our conversation he heard?" mused erickson. "but then, i suppose it makes no difference." after a few minutes of conversation, holden asked the captain if they could be shown their cabins, so that they could get a few hours of rest before reaching their destination. the request was readily granted, and in a few minutes holden was alone in a neat little room, furnished with a comfortable chair, tables along two walls, and a very pleasant looking berth built into the third side. the professor had a similar place a few doors down the hall. holden threw off his shoes and coat and tumbled into the berth. the events of the last weeks were spinning in his head, and a procession of visions passed before his eyes. that terrible catastrophe, the trip to europe, to the capitol of the world union, and now, the appointment as leader of the most important expedition in the history of the universe, with the possible exception of that first epoch-making voyage to mars back in 2350. another vision appeared before his eyes. jean! jean, his own sweetheart, the one person in the world who mattered, gone now for a full year. why had she decided to make the voyage to mars? what could have happened to the ill-fated _gloriana_, with her hundreds of passengers and valuable cargo? a year ago she had left; and, as some people said, merely drifted out into space, never to be heard from again. a deep sob shook holden's body as he thought of that beautiful girl, who, laughing at his fears, had stepped into the space flyer with a smile on her lips, promising to come back in a year and marry him. at last, however, these memories gave way before exhaustion, and he fell into a sleep, troubled by strange dreams. it seemed that a great serpent had attacked him, and, flinging its coils about his body, was slowly squeezing out his life. suddenly, he was wide awake. strong hands were on his throat, the thumbs were pressed tight against his larynx. he struggled to gain his breath, to shout for help, but the pressure closed his throat. in another moment it would be too late. then his mind cleared; raising both hands to the back of his neck, he grasped the little fingers of his assailant, and pulled with all his strength. the man gave a cry of pain and anger and relaxed his grip. holden gulped in a breath of air, and flung himself from his berth, endeavoring to catch and hold the coward who had attacked in the dark. the man, however, was wiry and quick. with a sudden jerk he wriggled loose, gained the door and was gone. when holden reached the corridor, no one was in sight. quickly he walked to professor erickson's room, awakened him, and told him what had happened. erickson rang up a steward, who promised to do everything in his power to apprehend the culprit. "who could it have been?" asked erickson. "i haven't the slightest idea. i have no enemies that i know of. i'm not carrying any valuables. it was probably a case of mistaken identity." the incident was dismissed with that interpretation, and it was several weeks before holden thought of it again, but then he wished fervently that he had investigated more thoroughly. chapter ii a midnight attack it was midnight when the liner reached san francisco, but holden insisted on going at once to the offices of the interplanetary transportation company, where work was carried on day and night. fortunately they found an official of the company who had sufficient power to carry out their instructions. it is unnecessary to go into the details of the meeting, or of the ensuing days. the unlimited power given holden, together with the vital importance of his mission, brought everyone into instant cooperation. three mammoth space ships were turned over to the gang of mechanics he had hired, to be fitted with projectors for the anti-gravitational screens. thousands of chemists all over the world dropped their work to prepare the precious _hexoxen_ while others extracted europium from the rare minerals in which it was found. special freight ships were sent out to gather together the supply of these materials upon which the fate of the earth depended, and rapidly the great quantities of the chemical necessary were stored in the ships. captain linet had proven true to his word, and, with his great executive ability, had made himself invaluable. it was a pleasant sight to see the huge old captain, veteran of many a storm in the air, conferring with the slim young holden, whose pleasant features and soft voice gave no real notion of the immense energy, fiery courage and scientific knowledge which he possessed. crews for the three ships had to be assembled. holden and erickson picked many from among the scientific men of their acquaintance, all experts in their lines. the interplanetary transportation company recommended several of their best men for the positions on board requiring technical knowledge of the handling of space ships, and captain linet also picked up a few of his friends--brave, strong men. there were to be fifty on each ship. the start had been scheduled for the fifteenth of the month, but on the tenth professor erickson received a radiogram from the seismographical institute which read as follows: "observations indicate a series of stresses approaching pacific fault, probably aggravated by unusual tidal action of moon in that area tenth of next month." "gentlemen," the old professor addressed the little group gathered in the office allotted them in the i. t. c. building, "as you know, this is the tenth. without allowing for possible delays, we would just have time, starting tomorrow, to reach the moon, distribute the _hexoxen_ and europium and get out of range by the first. that would leave us only ten days for cutting the gaseous mass into small pieces which will drift harmlessly into space. if we do not have that task accomplished by the time indicated in this message, los angeles, san francisco, portland and seattle will suffer the fate which overtook new york such a short time ago." holden's face was pale as he rose and nodded to the professor. "if captain linet will take the responsibility of getting the crews on board, i will see that we are ready to leave at high noon tomorrow." the meeting adjourned in a flurry of papers, a ringing of bells, and brisk words spoken into television transmitters. all that night and all the next morning work went on. at eleven a. m. the last five hundred tons of _hexoxen_ was loaded on the _san francisco_, which was to be the flagship; at noon exactly the huge doors swung shut, the repulsion tubes at the stern began to glow, and the beautiful cigar-shaped ship rose from the earth, followed immediately by the _los angeles_ and the _ganymede_. they cruised slowly, at about six hundred miles per hour, until they were well out of the earth's atmosphere, when full power was slowly turned on, and the trip to the moon was actually begun. holden and erickson stood in the bow of the _san francisco_, watching the skilful hands of the pilot, edwards, as he spun the dials controlling the steering discharges, keeping the delicate needle in the direction indicator exactly in line with the path indicated on the chart before him. "how are things going, edwards?" holden asked. "fine so far. we have developed our necessary velocity in very good time. if you would allow me a word of advice, i would suggest that you turn in now, as the tremendous acceleration of the last few minutes, and the speed with which we are now traveling, are liable to affect you disagreeably, since this is your first trip. our course has been plotted by the experts of the i. t. c., and there is nothing to do now but to stay on it." * * * * * holden decided that the suggestion was a good one, as he was beginning to feel light-headed and slightly bewildered. erickson, however, chose to go down to the observation room, for a glance at the earth, and the two parted company in the hall which led through the storage compartments, located amidships. as holden continued on down the hall toward his cabin, a sudden feeling of danger came over him. memories of the clutching hands that had endeavored to throttle the life out of him shot into his mind. he laughed to himself, attributing the fear to the mental disorganization suffered by travelers on their first trip into space. he opened the door of his cabin, and stepped inside, instinctively reaching for the light-switch. his hand encountered warm flesh! swiftly he went into action, diving for the stranger's throat, but his unknown antagonist had the advantage of being prepared. holden heard a soft swish, a tremendous weight seemed to descend on him, crushing his entire body. buzzing lights flashed before his eyes. then came darkness, and he sank, unconscious, to the floor. "jack, jack, my boy." the voice came from a great distance, slowly penetrating the great cloud which hung over him. "jack, what's the matter with you?" he realized that someone was talking to him. with a mighty effort, he opened his eyes and endeavored to distinguish the speaker among the thousands of objects which whirled before his eyes. at last things settled down, and he saw the anxious faces of erickson and captain linet bending above him. "somebody was in my cabin, and slugged me over the head with a black-jack when i came in. look at the wall-cabinet, will you, professor, and see if any of the papers are missing?" the professor stepped over to one side of the room, and bent to examine the compartment set in the solid metal of the wall. "holden," he cried, "the intruder tried to open the cabinet, but was unable to do so, or else you came back sooner than he had expected. there are tool marks all around the lock." "that means," exclaimed captain linet, "that the man either has tools in his cabin, or has access to the machine shop here on board." scarcely had he spoken when the floor leaped beneath their feet, a deafening roar sounded from the bow, and the lights went out. sounds of running feet came from the corridor. the three men picked themselves up from the positions into which they had been thrown by the force of the shock, and rushed to the door. the emergency lights had been switched on, and they could see fairly well by the dim illumination. they hurried into the pilot house at the bow. edwards was struggling with the controls, pale but determined. "there's something wrong with the steering apparatus we've run into a group of tiny meteorites, but, thank god, they didn't hit hard enough to penetrate the shell. the other ships seem to be in good shape; they're standing by a few hundred miles away, for i've signaled them not to get themselves tangled up with this shower." at that moment a breathless tube-man came running in. "report for you, sir, from the tube-room. someone tampered with the timing device that controls the feeding of the charges. we can have it repaired in a few hours." "good," snapped edwards. "give me all the power you can from the emergency tubes, and keep the main stern tubes going full." turning to holden, he continued, "i'll try to steer out of this shower by means of the deceleration tubes, but i don't dare use up too much of their power, and they can't be recharged until after we land." "captain linet," holden ordered, "start a search of the ship. go over every man's room first, and pay especial attention to their baggage. read all the private papers you can find, and see if you can't get some clue as to why all this is being done. by the way, do we have any arms on board?" linet smiled. "while your orders didn't cover that matter, sir, i took the liberty to bring with me a very complete arsenal of small arms, and three of the newly developed rapid-fire disintegrators, using your _hexoxen_ as the material for the bullets. very effective, i may add." "fine. as soon as a man is searched, and has been entirely cleared of all shadow of suspicion, arm him." erickson departed with captain linet, and holden remained in the pilot room, helping edwards work the ship onward. after about an hour and a half, they had reached an area free from meteorites of dangerous size. "i think i can handle her myself, now. thanks very much," edwards said, and holden departed to do a little investigating on his own. * * * * * in the tube-room at the stern, he found linet. the doughty captain had evidently been giving the men a thorough raking over, for they were all looking slightly sheepish, as men do when they have had to reveal the most intimate details of their lives. "all in shape here," linet reported. "five of the men i know best are searching the living quarters, under command of professor erickson. if you will come with me now, we will go to the observation room, where the rest of the men are loafing while off duty." as they passed down the central hall in the section where the cabins were located, a man ran out from a side passage, saw them, and turned at full speed for the bow. "stop him," came a shout. holden recognized the voice as erickson's. the man heard it, too, for he whirled in his tracks, whipped an old-fashioned automatic pistol from his pocket, leveled it at holden, and took careful aim. the fraction of a second during which his eye rested along the sights was his undoing. captain linet's hand, hidden under the loose jacket he was wearing, pressed the release on his short-range ray pistol, a light bluish streak touched the man's breast, and he fell forward, his heart literally shattered by the energy of the ray. holden reached him first, and rolled him over. his face was faintly familiar, and doubt changed to recognition as captain linet exclaimed, "it's chambers, a former petty officer on my airliner." it was the man who had come up to the captain while holden and erickson were conversing with him on the bridge. "what on earth could the man have been up to? he must have been mad to attack me on this ship, with no chance of escape," exclaimed holden. "do you know anything of his record, captain?" "nothing whatsoever, except that he seemed honest enough, and hard working. i was the one responsible for his presence on board here, as he had mentioned some knowledge of interplanetary travel, and we needed men." erickson had come up by that time. "we found nothing in this man's cabin except some tools that he had evidently stolen from the machine shop, and a code book of the type used by commercial companies for interplanetary messages. he entered the room while we were searching it, and bolted when he saw us." the thing was puzzling, but most of the men on board accepted the explanation that the man was mad, and had for some reason resorted to desperate measures to assure the safety of the moon. "you know," explained captain linet, "back a few hundred years ago, there was the expression 'moonstruck' applied to people who were mentally deranged." at any rate, the incident was closed, as no one could be found who might possibly have been an accomplice. minor damage caused by the cloud of meteorites was repaired, and the three ships swung in close together, heading for the satellite which they were commissioned to destroy. the men spent as much time as they could in their bunks, for there was hard dangerous work ahead of them. huge cartridges had to be filled with _hexoxen_, caps of europium placed on top, and adjustments made so that, after a certain time had elapsed, the catalyst would come into contact with the _hexoxen_, causing a reaction to take place which would continue almost as long as there was solid material present to be vaporized. one slip of tired hands, one miscalculation and many men, perhaps the entire party, would suffer a terrible fate. holden was busy with one of the latest and best maps of the moon, looking for places where landing could be made, and charting the spots where the cartridges would be buried. the exact time for which every charge was to be set had to be worked out in advance. chapter iii a sudden encounter the map of the moon was not as complete as it could have been, either. no particular interest had been taken in our satellite since the first exploratory expeditions nearly fifty years before, when it had been determined that the moon was of no value to earthmen, either as an outpost for colonization or a station for the production of power from the sun's rays. jack did the best he could, however, and the little dots he placed on the map were close enough together to assure complete vaporization of the solid material in less than the allotted time. at the end of the second day out, by earth-time, the dead satellite loomed immense, only five thousand miles ahead. holden was in the pilot house when edwards began turning on the deceleration tubes. "i flashed your message to the other ships," he said, as his quick fingers touched the buttons which sent messages to the tube-room, "telling them to stand by and land with us. i understand that the plan is to use these ships to travel over the surface of the moon, making landings in such positions that expeditions can be sent out in four directions to plant cartridges. that will certainly give us plenty of time, if nothing goes wrong." "i don't see what could go wrong," replied holden, "since that madman is out of the way." eagerly he watched the dead, dust-covered surface approach, marveling at the huge craters and precipitous peaks. in two hours the five thousand miles had been reduced to less than that many yards, and in a few more minutes the three great ships were settling softly on the smooth surface of the plain at the foot of mount julian. space suits were rapidly donned, the air-locks set in operation, and the men hastily began unloading the first four charges of _hexoxen_ and europium. holden called a meeting of the ship commanders in the pilot room of the _san francisco_. "commander huges," he addressed the man in charge of the _los angeles_, "you will proceed toward mount locke, and continue in that line until you reach the spot marked on this chart, which is directly opposite our present position. rogers, you take the _ganymede_, and go at an angle of 120 degrees to huges' course, toward mount zoga. i will continue over the crater of aristotle. we will keep in constant communication with each other by means of the space phone. time the charges so that they will commence to react on the afternoon of the twenty-eighth, thus giving a sufficient margin of time in case of delays due to parties getting lost. that's all." the _ganymede_ and the _los angeles_ left almost immediately, while men from the _san francisco_ set out to plant the first charges. there were four men to each cartridge, since it was necessary that they travel fast. holden smiled as the lean figure of professor erickson, almost lost in his space-suit, bounded away in great leaps at the head of his party. in five hours they returned, having had no trouble at all. edwards manipulated the controls, and the ship rose quickly to an altitude of about five thousand feet and headed for the rim of the crater of aristotle, barely visible in the distance. as they neared the rim, they rose higher and higher. the mammoth cliffs of black rock towered above them, and the meters registered a height of five miles as they passed through a crack in the cliffs and looked down on the level floor beneath them. suddenly holden, who had been inspecting the country from one of the bow ports, uttered an exclamation of astonishment. "a tiny ship is rising toward us from the floor of the crater, near the cliffs!" there it was, a speck rapidly growing larger, headed straight for them, and gaining velocity with every foot it covered. edwards worked frantically with the controls, diving in a zig-zag path toward the strange craft. captain linet rushed in, carrying one of the light _hexoxen_ guns. holden hurried to help him place it in a specially designed aperture in the bow, while erickson and the regular radio man endeavored to establish communications with the intruder. a voice suddenly spoke from their instrument. "you will consider yourselves our captives. land at once as close as possible to the white spot you see at the base of the cliff. if you do not obey instructions, we will ram you immediately." "don't reply for a moment," holden commanded, focusing his glasses in the direction indicated. as the powerful lenses brought out every detail of the scene below, he paled visibly. "what's the matter?" demanded erickson. "matter enough," was the amazing reply. "we've run into a den of some bandits. they must be the fiends who have been preying on the earth-mars shipping!" * * * * * the tremendous speed of the dive had brought them so close that all could see, without the aid of binoculars, the great skeletons of wrecked ships piled up at the base of the precipice. "tell those rats to go to hell," snapped holden, "and get in touch with our own ships; use code and tell them to get here as quickly as possible, prepared for a fight. get near enough to this pirate ship to open on it with the _hexoxen_ guns. can you keep them from ramming us, edwards?" "i think so, for a time, at least." the enemy's craft was now only a few hundred yards away, and holden scrutinized it closely for any sign that might give a clue to the original builders or present owners. not over a hundred and fifty feet in length, with no visible openings, it looked like a slightly fattened steel needle. its stern tubes were of the ordinary type; they glowed red against the silvery background, as the enemy swooped and circled, trying to get into position for a final, crushing blow. "every man in space suits," holden ordered. "good work, linet," he cried, as he saw a sudden pock-mark appear in the pirate's side, where the devastating _hexoxen_ bullet had struck. "they've certainly got thick plates," remarked the captain, as another direct hit failed to do more than scratch the metal. "probably heavier up in front, if they mean what they say about ramming. i'm going to concentrate on the stern." the dull red surface of the moon, the black walls of the crater, and the twinkling stars of outer space mingled in a fantastic whirl as edwards skilfully kept the _san francisco_ out of the enemy's reach, at the same time giving linet and the men in the observation compartment sufficient opportunity to train their guns on vital spots. it was a hopeless game, though, for the smaller ship was incredibly fast. erickson straightened up from his position behind the operator of the space-phone. "we can't make any connections with either the _ganymede_ or the _los angeles_. probably these pirates have developed a shield which, thrown around their victims, prevents any message from getting to the outside." that looked bad. erickson switched the receiver back to the wave-length of the enemy. a continual stream of taunts and threats came from the loudspeaker. "why don't you surrender?" the gruff voice barked. "you haven't a chance against us, but if you surrender you may be allowed to work with us, for your own benefit as well as ours." "go to hell," the formerly meek erickson roared into the transmitter, surprised at his own rage. then finally, with a desperate dash, the tiny pirate ship darted in. edwards did his best to swerve away from the needle-point, but in vain. there was a shattering crash; holden felt himself hurled through the air, but his heavy space-suit saved him from being crushed as he hit the wall of the room. edwards stayed with the controls, somehow, cursing savagely. "only a glancing blow, but it smashed all the main stern tubes, and evidently disabled the anti-gravitational shield transmitter. we're going down." holden dashed to a port and glanced out. a welcome sight met his eyes. the enemy, also injured, was heading for home as fast as his disabled engines permitted. "those _hexoxen_ bombs must have weakened his plating, so that it sprang when he rammed us," edwards exclaimed when he saw what was happening. slowly the _san francisco_ sank toward the red and black volcanic ash of the crater floor. a hasty inspection revealed that edwards had been correct in his diagnosis of the trouble. extensive repairs would be necessary before they could proceed, but, fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, and the main shell showed no signs of strains or leaks. as soon as edwards had brought them safely to rest on the ground, holden called a council of war. "from the way these chaps fight, it's evident that they have no weapons, other than the bow of their ship, and possibly some short-range ray pistols, or the still more antiquated guns using some form of explosive to expel metal bullets. as soon as the shadow of the cliff throws this section of the crater into darkness, i'm going to do a little exploring, and see if i can't find out where these rats hide, when they're not out in space. linet, you throw a line of pickets around the ship; edwards, get started on repairs, and erickson, keep on trying to get in touch with our companions." * * * * * scarcely had he finished speaking when the light began to fade, and in a few minutes it was pitch black. refusing to take anyone along with him, holden crept out of the air-lock, and with an occasional glance at the compass fastened inside his suit, always pointing toward the _san francisco_, he set out in the general direction of the wrecked space ships he had seen piled along the base of the cliff. he made good time, despite the weight of his suit and the poor footing afforded by the loosely piled dust, and finally saw ahead of him the silvery gleam of a ship's side. afraid to use his light, he crept toward the bow of the craft, past a huge hole, and reached the name-plate. following the deeply engraved characters, he slowly spelled out the name "g-l-o-r-," his heart gave a great thump. _gloriana_, the earth-mars passenger transport into which his own jean had stepped so happily a year previously! a sudden hope flared up and then died down as he remembered the gaping hole he had just passed. the cowards had probably attacked without warning; the terrible cold of outer space had flooded through the opening made by that sharp-pointed prow,--. he could not bear to carry the image further; with a sob in his throat and murderous hatred in his heart, he continued his search for the pirate stronghold. winding his way among other shattered ships, he came to the base of the towering cliff, and turned to the right along it, finding his way by constantly touching the hard rock with his gloved hand. suddenly there was a space where he could touch nothing, then the texture of the material changed. carefully shielding the glow, he flashed a light on the wall for a moment. it was metal, not rock! the pirates had walled in a cave with plates from the captured transports; probably they were living within, in all the luxury of their stolen wealth. a few yards farther on his searching hand touched a seam in the metal, still farther, another, evidently the air-lock through which the pirates took their ship into the cave. holden sat down to think. at that moment the wall against which he leaned began to move slowly outward! a dim ray of light came from the opening, which, as he turned to look, he saw to be an air-lock. the inner door was closed, obviously someone was expected to enter. he drew a deep breath, clasped his gun firmly in his right hand, and plunged in. as soon as he entered, the outer door closed; he heard valves click open, air rushed into the chamber, and the inner door slowly opened, revealing a long hall, dark and ominous. without removing the helmet of his space-suit, he started down the hall, but had gone no more than a few steps before he felt a hand on his sleeve, drawing him through a darkened doorway. the door closed, a light flashed on, and before him stood, smiling and happy, his sweetheart, jean! with a single movement he flung off his helmet and seized her in his arms. for a short, delicious moment she clung to him, whispering those words that lovers know so well. at last she said, "we haven't a minute to lose, jack. let me tell you all i know about this place." "but jean, how did you get here? how does it happen that you had access to the air-lock?" "i was captured by these fiends, and am a prisoner, together with about fifteen others, only five of them being men. all the rest were killed, either when the pirates rammed the ships, or here, when they decided the place was becoming crowded." her face paled at the memory of the horrible massacres, but she went bravely on. "we have no space-suits, and the pirates, of whom there are perhaps seventy-five, let us wander around pretty much as we please. we know of practically everything that goes on. i happened to hear your name mentioned in the phone room the other day, when a spy on your ship sent a message. when the pirates brought their ship in, crippled by the fight, i was sure that you were around somewhere. i have been watching ever since, making use of a sound detector pieced together from some scraps of material i picked up unnoticed. "there aren't any guards because the gang is busy repairing the _silver death_, as they call their ship, preparatory to finishing the job they started today. oh, jack, you must go, now. they may be through at any time. i don't know when i will see you again, if ever, but i couldn't resist talking to you, touching you, just once more." "one moment, dear. i have an idea. is there any compartment, farther back or lower down, where you could gather the prisoners together, and be safe in case the outer wall was broken down?" * * * * * "yes," she replied breathlessly, "one of the older, smaller caves is still airtight, and while the gang is busy on the _silver death_ we could go there and close the locks. what good would that do, though? they are certain you can't get in here, or they wouldn't leave the place unguarded. they have your ship surrounded by a wave-proof shield, so you can't communicate with the others of your fleet, you know." "i know that, but i think i can steal a leaf from their own book. will they all be working, say three hours from now?" "i think so. your guns did a great deal of damage, weakening the forward structures of their craft." "all right. get your friends together in the old cave you mentioned, seal it, and then wait till i come back." tenderly he kissed her good-bye, then hastened away, anxious to get his work done before the shadow of the cliff again receded. thanking the fates for the good fortune that had saved jean, and had led her to the air-lock at the moment he was there, he stumbled over the rocks and dust piles until halted by the picket line surrounding the _san francisco_. he called the men into the ship, and hastened to the pilot room, where edwards was testing the controls. "any luck?" "yes, a lot. can you get the ship in shape to travel in three hours?" "she's in pretty good shape now, although not capable of the trip back to earth." captain linet entered at that moment, and with him professor erickson. holden recounted his adventures of the last hour and then set forth his plan. "the cave is walled up with thin plating from the ships the pirates have brought in here. the entire gang is at work, repairing their own flier; none of them, or at least only a few, are wearing space suits. i propose to drive the bow of the _san francisco_ into the wall of their cave, previously weakening it by a few bursts from the _hexoxen_ guns!" "it is possible," replied edwards, "but it will probably put us out of commission altogether." "in any case," put in erickson, "we will be rid of this damnable shield, and can communicate with our companions." it certainly was the only plan, for, as soon as the pirates had repaired their ship, another unequal battle would be waged, with the result very little in doubt. all hands set to work completing repairs on the main stern tubes, the only ones necessary to drive the _san francisco_ forward. in less than three hours, edwards pronounced the work done to his satisfaction. as the light began to creep in toward the base of the cliff, the huge ship rose slightly off the ground, the tubes glowed red and, guided by a powerful searchlight installed on the bow, edwards pointed his craft toward the gleaming metal patch that marked the position of the pirate cave. at short range, holden, linet, and erickson opened with the three _hexoxen_ guns. they saw the bursts take effect on the metal. edwards turned the power on full, and they felt the floor leaping under them. would the bow of the _san francisco_ hold? would they all be crushed to death at the impact? another moment would tell. holden saw the metal plates dead ahead, could distinguish the seams marking the air-lock. he fired one final shot, and flung himself to the floor of the pilot room, endeavoring to find some means of bracing himself for the shock. then it came! torn from his position, he saw the plates buckling and heaving about him. the lights went out. a great crash sounded in his ears, and everything went black. in a moment he regained consciousness, and staggered to his feet, bruised and dizzy. thank god, his space suit had not been harmed! a faint glow from the outside made things visible and he saw that the shock had torn a huge piece out of the plating of the pilot room. a hand clutched his elbow, and through the phone in his space suit he heard linet's voice. "erickson and edwards are knocked out. let's see what we did to these chaps here." * * * * * rushing back through the corridor, they collected as many of the crew as were able to move, flung open the heavy doors of the air-lock, and scrambled down to the floor of the cave. here and there lay bodies, pirates caught unawares. suddenly holden saw a blue flash. one of the mechanics clutched at his breast and fell, dead in an instant. "some of these fellows are still alive. they're using ray pistols," holden shouted into his suit phone. even as he spoke he heard the sound of running feet from the darkness in the rear of the cave, where the bow of the _silver death_ was barely visible in her cradle, and in a moment at least fifty figures, pirates who had somehow escaped the fatal cold of space, clad in clumsy suits and brandishing pistols, flung themselves desperately upon the smaller party. blue flashes were everywhere as the battle commenced, but the only sound was of struggling feet, with an occasional thud as a body hit the floor. the pirates had been weakened by their long stay on the moon, and moved slowly, but the surprise of their attack, and the superiority of numbers had given them some advantage. it was man to man fighting, savage and merciless. holden, with a neat dive, knocked the feet from under a huge fellow who had trained a pistol on him, and they rolled over and over, each trying desperately to gain a second's advantage. he heard a dull crash to one side, as captain linet, jumping high into the air, landed with stunning force on a bewildered assailant. thinking of jean, waiting for him in some dim corner of the cave, he redoubled his efforts. for a fraction of a second his pistol pointed toward his antagonist's body, and that was enough. he pressed the release, and the deadly ray shot into the body beneath him, dealing instant death. freeing himself from the cold grip, he ducked an empty pistol flung at him by a new assailant. again his finger bent, and another body dropped to join those lying motionless on the floor. a fast-moving shadow caught his eye. he saw one of the pirates detach himself from a writhing group and head for the side of the cave. that was the place where jean had said she would be waiting! pausing only an instant to make sure that his pistol was still charged, holden sprang in pursuit of the fleeing form. he saw him stoop and pick up a heavy bar from the floor. the coward was going to burst open the chamber where the helpless captives waited! it was impossible to aim at that speed, so holden forced his flying feet to move still faster, and foot by foot he drew closer to the man he pursued. metal plates again gleamed in front of him, and he saw the pirate raise the bar high over his head, preparing for a blow which would crush the thin plates. the tiniest hole would mean death to the captives, who had no means of protecting themselves. with one last desperate effort, holden jumped, his earth-trained muscles carrying him high into the air, while his pistol stabbed the partial darkness with vivid rays. dodging and ducking, the pirate evaded the fatal stabs, while his bar beat a loud tattoo against the metal. holden struck at him with his now useless pistol as he landed. the blow missed, and, losing his balance, he staggered and fell, past his foe, who quickly turned, raising his bar for a _coup de grace_ which never landed. the familiar flash of a pistol once more illuminated the scene, the bar dropped from dead hands, and holden scrambled to his feet. a voice was speaking through his suit phone, and he recognized it as erickson's. "i just came to, tumbled out of that hole in the pilot room, saw the flash of your pistol, and here i am." the old professor appeared, wobbling slightly, but still game. the flashes toward the mouth of the cave had grown fewer. leaving erickson to guard the compartment of the captives, holden hurried back to the fight. even as he went, the flashes died out altogether, and he heard linet's hearty voice in the phone. "holden, where are you? we've cleaned out them all down here." light was now flooding in from outside, and bodies could be seen lying thick on the floor, cold and stiff in death. sadly holden recognized many of them as his own men. after a hasty conference with linet, he gathered together fifteen space suits, and with an escort helping to carry them, he hurried back to jean. * * * * * the door of the air-lock opened as his party approached. they went in, heard the swish of air entering, and in a few minutes the inner door swung wide. a happy crowd of men and women surrounded them, as they rid themselves of their helmets. holden felt jean's arms around him, her sweet lips once more on his. for a second they clung together, then parted, for there was work to be done. the space suits were distributed and, as he led the way back to the _san francisco_, jean told him briefly the details of the long year of imprisonment. "they gave us warning before they rammed us, as they wanted to save the women, for a purpose you can guess. fortunately, there were never enough of us to go around, and these men, exiles from two planets, were always quarreling among themselves, so we were quite safe. we just existed, praying that some exploring expedition would find us, or that the _silver death_ would meet a ship too strong for her to ram and, fleeing here for refuge, be trailed." holden sighted captain linet hurrying toward them. in the light now flooding the entire cavern, he could see lines of despair and hopelessness written over the florid face. "what's the matter?" "matter enough," came the ominous answer. "the space phone on our ship is entirely disabled. we won't be able to get in touch with the _ganymede_ or the _los angeles_. in a few days, the _hexoxen_ charges they plant will commence to go off, and that will be the end of us." holden stopped, stunned by the news. fleeting visions of happiness with jean vanished into thin air. he would be destroyed by the chemical he had invented, with which he had hoped to save the world. "i thought we might get out in the _silver death_," continued the captain, "but the entrance is entirely blocked by our own ship, and i'm afraid it will never move again." then jean's clear voice cut in. "how about the space phone on the _silver death_? won't it work?" "why, of course it will," laughed the captain, amused at his own stupidity. stumbling and tripping in their haste, the three hurried through the open air lock of the pirate craft, into the pilot room. holden feverishly set to work, whirling the strange dials, pushing this button, then that. at last a faint roar sounded in the loud speaker. pressing his helmet against the transmitter, so that the vibrations would carry his voice, he shouted, "_ganymede_, _los angeles_, holden calling." "what ho?" came a cheery voice, which he recognized as belonging to huges, commander of the _los angeles_. breathing a sigh of relief, he explained the situation. busy days followed. _hexoxen_ and europium from the _san francisco_ were transferred to the other ships, with as much of the treasure collected by the pirates as could be loaded into the cramped quarters. with huges and rogers assisting, holden revised the schedule for planting the charges. "we simply haven't time," he explained, "to set the charges as close together as i had planned. there's nothing to do but get all of them in that we can, and then hope that conditions in the interior of the moon will be of a nature to promote the action of the _hexoxen_." the ships' crews understood only too well the importance and danger of their work, and during the days that followed they toiled like a gang of madmen. parties raced each other over the rough surface of the dead satellite, grimly determined that their efforts to save the world should not be in vain. even the men of the party which had been rescued, weakened as they were by their long stay in the pirate cave, insisted on giving what help they could. finally came the day when the first charges were set to go off. holden sat in the pilot room of the _ganymede_, his eyes on the chronometer, while captain linet swept the desolate plain with powerful binoculars for the cloud of dust which would signal the return of the last party. "five minutes yet, captain," holden said in a low voice. "tell the _los angeles_ to pull out. the first charges are scarcely two hundred miles from here, and i'm not certain how fast the reaction will travel." five minutes. two minutes. the silver shape of the _los angeles_ was already fading in the distance. suddenly a sharp shock rocked the stony bed on which the _ganymede_ was resting. simultaneously five figures appeared, racing at full speed for the ship. shock after shock tore at the ground beneath their feet. holden stood at the controls, waiting for the signal that his five comrades were safely aboard. to his tensed nerves it seemed hours before the welcome sound came to his ears, and with a sigh of relief he opened the power into the stern tubes, and laughed happily as the huge ship shot away from the heaving surface of the dying moon. anxious seconds passed. from the height to which they had risen, a great part of the moon was visible, and for the first time holden realized the full power of the chemical which his ingenuity had devised. immense tongues of flame ripped through the dust and rock of the satellite, sending dense clouds of vapor bellowing out into space. mighty mountains disappeared in an instant. the _ganymede_ was traveling at full speed, and yet it seemed as though at any moment the conflagration might reach out, consuming the space ship in that all-engulfing reaction. holden manipulated the controls with flying fingers, seeking to get every available bit of speed from the metal monster which was carrying its precious cargo of human beings away from a terrible death. far ahead he could see the shape of the _los angeles_, now safely outside the danger zone. thin clouds of vapor floated around the _ganymede_, then suddenly cleared. captain linet gave a shout of joy as he read the distance recorded on the dials. "jack, my boy, we're safe. we're outside the limit to which the reaction can extend." with the three ships playing their deadly beams on the moon, holden watched the immense craters, the towering mountains, and the desolate plains of the moon slowly vaporize. it was an awe-inspiring sight, as this dead world slowly melted into the nothingness of space, as though a disease of matter were wasting it inexorably away. no doubt, on the earth, as the contours of the moon slowly blurred and became indistinct, with the accumulation of vapor around its now ragged rim, there must have been terror and consternation. and as the moon slowly evaporated in the skies a virtual panic must have ensued among the earth's people. the hand of a terrible fate, or the coming of the end of the world, must have been shouted from city to city as the only explanation of this apparent disaster in the heavens. but the work had to go on.... for days, the _ganymede_ and the _los angeles_ cruised through the thin clouds, spreading between them the anti-gravitational shield, while the sections of vapor, freed of their mutual attraction, drifted out into uncharted space. it was slow, dangerous work, cutting those sections off from the main mass, and maintaining the proper position until they had floated off into space. occasional particles of rock, small but deadly, clattered against the hard shell of the space ship. fortunately, no fragments of appreciable size were encountered; the _hexoxen_ had done its work thoroughly. for eight days the powerful ray sliced and repelled. under its influence huge clouds of vapor, the ghostly remains of the calm globe which had innocently threatened the earth, hurtled off into the farthest reaches of space, there to sink at last into the substance of some flaming star. at last the work was finished, and the two ships, saviors of the earth, turned their bows toward home to carry to the awestruck people of earth the glad news that interplanetary commerce would be as free of pirates thereafter as the earth would be free of the disastrous quakes. and jack holden, at last, faced with a light heart the honors that would be his, knowing that he could now share them with the girl of his dreams. the end. transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories july 1952. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. master of the moondog by stanley mullen _idiotic pets rate idiotic masters. tod denver and charley, the moondog, made ideal companions as they set a zigzag course for the martian diggings--paradise for fools._ * * * * * it was charley's fault, of course; all of it.... temperature outside was a rough 280 degrees f., which is plenty rough and about three degrees cooler than hell. it was somewhere over the lunar appenines and the sun bored down from an airless sky like an unshielded atomic furnace. the thermal adjustors whined and snarled and clogged-up until the inside of the space sled was just bearable. [illustration] tod denver glared at charley, who was a moondog and looked like one, and charley glared back. denver was fond of charley, as one might be of an idiot child. at the moment they found each in the other's doghouse. charley had curled up and attached himself to the instrument panel from which be scowled at denver in malignant fury. [illustration] charley was a full-grown, two yard-long moondog. he looked like an oversized comma of something vague and luminous. at the head end he was a fat yellow balloon, and the rest of him tapered vaguely to a blunt apex of infinity. whatever odd forces composed his weird physiology, he was undoubtedly electronic or magnetic. in the physically magnetic sense, he could cling for hours to any metallic surface, or at will propel himself about or hang suspended between any two or more metallic objects. as to his personality, he was equally magnetic, for wherever denver took him he attracted curious stares and comments. most people have never seen a moondog. such creatures, found only on the moons of saturn, are too rare to be encountered often as household or personal pets. but tod denver had won charley in a crap game at crystal city; and thereafter found him both an inseparable companion and exasperating responsibility. he had tried every available means to get rid of charley, but without success. either direct sale or horse-trade proved useless. charley liked denver too well to put up with less interesting owners so charley always came back, and nearly always accompanied by profanity and threats. charley was spectacular, and a monstrous care but denver ended by becoming fond of the nuisance. he would miss the radiant, stupid and embarrassingly affectionate creature. charley had currently burned out a transformer by some careless and exuberant antic; hence the mutual doghouse. scolding was wasted effort, so denver merely sighed and made a face at charley. "mad dogs and martians go out in the lunar sun," he sang as a punishment. charley recognized only the word "dog" but he considered the song a personal insult; as if denver's singing were not sufficient punishment for a minor offense. charley was irritated. charley's iridescence flickered evilly, which was enough to short-circuit two relays and weld an undetermined number of hot switches. charley's temper was short, and short-circuiting all electrical units within range was mere reflex. tod denver swore nobly and fluently, set the controls on automatic-neutral and tried to localize the damage. but for charley and his overloaded peeve, they would have been in crystal city inside the hour. so it was charley's fault, of course; all of it.... * * * * * it was beyond mere prank. denver calculated grimly that his isolated suit would hold up less than twenty minutes in that noon inferno outside before the stats fused and the suiting melted and ran off him in droplets of metal foil and glass cloth. the thermal adjustors were already working at capacity, transmitting the light and heat that filtered through the mirror-tone hull into stored, useful energy. batteries were already overcharged and the voltage regulators snapped on and off like a crackling barrage of distant heat-guns. below was a high gulch of the lunar appenines, a pattern of dazzling glare and harsh moonshadows. ramshackle mine-buildings of prefabricated plastic straggled out from the shrouding blackness under a pinnacled ridge. denver eyed the forbidding terrain with hair-raising panic. he checked the speed of the racing space sled, circled once, and tried to pick out a soft spot. the ship swooped down like a falling rock, power off. denver awaited the landing shock. it was rough. space was too cramped and he overshot his planned landing. the spacer set down hard beyond the cleared strip, raising spurting clouds of volcanic ash which showered his view-ports in blinding glare. skids shrilled on naked rock, causing painful vibrations in the cabin. denver wrenched at controls, trying to avoid jagged tongues of broken lava protruding above the dust-floor. sun-fire turned the disturbed dust into luminous haze blanketing ship and making vision impossible. the spacer ground to an agonized stop. denver's landing was rough but he still lived. he sat blankly and felt cold in the superheated cabin. it was nice and surprising to be alive. without sustaining air the dust settled almost instantly. haze cleared outside the ports. charley whined eagerly. he detached himself from the tilting control panel and sailed wildly about like a hydrophobic goldfish in a bowl of water. a succession of spitting and crackling sounds poured from him as he batted his lunatic face to the view-ports to peer outside. pseudo-tendrils formed around his travesty of mouth, and he wrinkled his absurd face into yellow typhoons of excitement. this was fun. let's do it again! denver grunted uncomfortably. he studied the staggering scene of lunar landscape without any definite hope. something blazing from the peak of the largest mine-structure caught his eye. with a snort of bitter disgust he identified the dazzle. distress signals in interplanetary code! that should be very helpful under the poisonous circumstances. he swore again, numbly, but with deep sincerity. charley danced and flicked around the cabin like a free electron with a careless disregard for traffic regulations and public safety. it was wordless effort to express his eagerness to go outside and explore with denver. in spite of himself, tod denver grinned at the display. "not this time, charley. you wait in the ship while i take a quick look around. from the appearance of things, i'll run into trouble enough without help from you." the moondog drooped from disappointment. with charley, any emotion always reached the ultimate absurdity. he was a flowing, flexible phantom of translucent color and radiance. but now the colors faded like gaudy rags in caustic solution. charley whined as denver went through the grotesque ritual of donning space helmet and zipping up his glass cloth and metal foil suiting before he dared venture outside. charley even tried to help by pouring himself through the stale air to hold open the locker where the tool-belts and holstered heat guns were kept. space suiting bulged with internal pressure as denver slid through the airlock and left the ship behind. walking carefully against the treachery of moonweak gravity, he made cautious way up the slope toward the clustered buildings. footing was bad, with the feeling of treading upon brittle, glassy surfaces and breaking through to bury his weighted shoes in inches of soft ash. a small detour was necessary to avoid upthrusting pinnacles of lavarock. in the shadow of these outcroppings he paused to let his eyes adjust to the brilliance of sunlight. a thin pencil-beam of light stabbed outward from behind the nearer building. close at hand, one of the lava-needles vanished in soundless display of mushrooming explosion. sharp, acrid heat penetrated even the insulating layers of suit. a pressure-wave of expanding gas staggered him before it dissipated. denver flung himself instinctively behind the sheltering rocks. prone, he inched forward to peer cautiously through a v-cleft between two jagged spires. heat-blaster in hand, he waited events. again the beam licked out. the huddle of lava-pinnacles became a core of flaming destruction. half-molten rock showered denver's precarious refuge. he ducked, unhurt, then thrust head and gun-arm above the barricade. * * * * * two dark figures, running awkwardly, detached themselves from the huddled bulk of buildings. like leaping, fantastic shadows, they scampered toward the mounds of deep shadow beneath the ridge. the route took them away from denver, making aim difficult. he fired twice, hurriedly. missed. but near misses because he had not focused for such range. by the time he could reset the weapon, the scurrying figures had disappeared into the screening puddles of shadow. denver tried to distinguish them against the blackness, but it lay in solid, covering mass at the base of a titanic ridge. faintly he could see a ghostly outline, much too large for men. it might be a ship, but it would have to be large enough for a space-yacht. no stinking two-man sled like his spacer. and he could not be sure in that eerie blankness if it even were a ship. besides, the range was too great. uncertainty vanished as a circle of light showed briefly. an airlock door opened and closed swiftly. denver stood clear of the rocks and wondered if he should risk anything further. pursuit was useless with such arms as he carried. no question of courage was involved. a man is not required to play quixotic fool under such circumstances. and there might not be time to return to his spacer for a long-range heat gun. if he tried to reach the strange ship, its occupants could smoke him down before he covered half the distance. if he continued toward the buildings, they might return and stalk him. they would, he knew, if they guessed he was alone. decision was spared him. rockets thundered. the ridge lighted up as with magnesium flares. a big ship moved out of the banked shadows, accelerating swiftly. it was a space-yacht, black-hulled, and showed no insignia. it was fast, incredibly fast. he wasted one blaster charge after it, but missed focus by yards. he ducked out of sight among the rocks as the ship dipped to skim low overhead. then it was gone, circling in stiff, steep spiral until it lost itself to sight in distant gorges. "close!" denver murmured. "too close. and now what?" he quickly recharged the blaster. a series of sprawling leaps ate up the remaining distance to the mine's living quarters. one whole side, where airlock doors had been, was now a gaping, ragged hole. a haze of nearly invisible frost crystals still descended in slow showers. it was bitterly cold on the sharp, opaque edge of mountain-shadow. thermal adjustors in his suiting stopped their irregular humming. automatic units combined chemicals and began to operate against the biting cold. with a premonition of ugly dread, denver clambered into the ruined building. inside was airless, heatless cell, totally dark. denver's gloved hand sought a radilume-switch. light blinked on as he fumbled the button. death sat at a metal-topped table. death wore the guise of a tall, gaunt, leathery man, no longer young. it was no pretty sight, though not too unfamiliar a sight on luna. the man had been writing. frozen fingers still clutched a cylinder pen, and the nub adhered to the paper as the flow of ink had stiffened. from nose, ears and mouth, streams of blood had congealed into fat, crimson icicles. rimes of ruby crystals ringed pressure-bulged eyes. he was complete, perfect, a tableau of cold, airless death. the paper was a claim record, registered in the name of laird martin, earthman. an attached photograph matched what could be seen of face behind its mask of frozen blood. across the foot of the sheet was a hurried scrawl: _claim jumpers. i know they'll get me. if i can hide this first, they will not get what they want. where mitre peak's apex of shadow points at 2017 et is the first of a series of deep-cut arrow markings. follow. they lead to the entrance. old martian workings. maybe something. whoever finds this, see that my kid, soleil, gets a share. she's in school on earth. address is 93-x south palma--_ the pen had stopped writing half-through the word. death had intervened hideously. imagination could picture the scene as that airlock wall disappeared in blinding, soundless flash. or perhaps there had been sound in the pressured atmosphere. his own arrival may have frightened off the claim jumpers, but too late to help the victim, who sat so straight and hideous in the airless tomb. there was nothing to do. airless cold would embalm the body until some bored official could come out from crystal city to investigate the murder and pick up the hideous pieces. but if the killers returned denver made sure that nothing remained to guide them in their search for the secret mine worked long-ago by forgotten martians. it was laird martin's discovery and his dying legacy to a child on distant earth. denver picked up the document and wadded it clumsily into a fold-pocket of his spacesuit. it might help the police locate the heir. in martin's billfold was the child's picture, no more. denver retraced his steps to the frosty airlock valve of his ship. inside the cabin, charley greeted his master's return with extravagant caperings which wasted millions of electron volts. "nobody home, charley," denver told the purring moondog, "but we've picked up a nasty errand to run." it was a bad habit, he reflected; talking to a moondog like that, but he had picked up the habit from sheer loneliness of his prospecting among the haunted desolations of the moon. even talking to charley was better than going nuts, he thought, and there was not too much danger of smart answers. he worked quickly, repairing the inadvertent damage charley's pique had caused. it took ten full minutes, and the heat-deadline was too close for comfort. he finished and breathed more freely as temperatures began to drop. he peeled off the helmet and unzipped the suit which was reaching the thermal levels of a live-steam bath. he ran tape through the charger to impregnate electronic setting that would guide the ship on its course to crystal city. "we were on our way, there, anyhow," he mused. "i hope they've improved the jail. it could stand air-conditioning." ii crystal city made up in violence what it lacked in size. it was a typical boom town of the lunar mining regions. mining and a thriving spacefreight trade in heavy metals made it a mecca for the toughest space-screws and hardest living prospector-miners to be found in the inhabited worlds. saloons and cheap lodging-houses, gambling dens and neon-washed palaces of expensive sin, the jail and a flourishing assortment of glittery funeral parlors faced each other across two main intersecting streets. x marked the spot and life was the least costly of the many commodities offered for sale to rich-strike suckers who funneled in from all luna. the town occupied the cleared and leveled floor of a small ringwall "crater," and beneath its colorful dome of rainbowy perma-plastic, it sizzled. dealers in mining equipment made overnight fortunes which they lost at the gaming tables just as quickly. in the streets one rubbed elbows with denizens from every part of the solar system; many of them curiously not anthropomorphic. glittering and painted purveyors of more tawdry and shopworn goods than mining equipment also made fortunes overnight, and some of them paid for their greedy snatching at luxury with their empty lives. brawls were sporadic and usually fatal. crystal city sizzled, and the lunar police sat on the lid as uneasily as if the place were a charge of high-explosive. it was, but it made living conditions difficult for a policeman, and made the desk-sergeant's temper extremely short. tod denver's experience with police stations had consisted chiefly of uncomfortable stays as an invited, reluctant guest. to a hard-drinking man, such invitations are both frequent and inescapable. so tod denver was uneasy in the presence of such an obviously ill-tempered desk sergeant. memories are tender documents from past experience, and denver's experiences had induced extreme sensitivity about jails. especially crystal city's jail. briefly, he acquainted irritable officialdom with details of his find in the appenines. the sergeant was fat, belligerent and unphilosophical. "you stink," said the sergeant, twisting his face into more repulsive suggestion of a distorted rubber mask. tod denver tried to continue. the sergeant cut him off with a rude suggestion. "so what?" added the official. "suppose you did run into a murder. do i care? maybe you killed the old guy yourself and are trying to cover up. i don't know." he scowled speculatively at denver who waited and worried. "forget it," went on the sergeant. "we ain't got time to chase down everybody that knocks off a lone prospector. there's a lot of punks like you i'd like to bump myself right here in crystal city. even if you're telling the truth i don't believe you. if you'd thought he had something valuable you'd have swiped it yourself, not come running to us. don't bother me. if you got something, snag it. if not, shove it--" the suggestion was detailed, anatomical. charley giggled amiably. startled, the sergeant looked up and caught sight of the monstrosity. he shrieked. "what's that?" "charley, my moondog," denver explained. "they're quite scarce here." charley made eerie, chittering noises and settled on denver's shoulder, waiting for his master to stroke the filaments of his blunt head. "looks like a cross between a bird and a carrot. try making him scarce from my office." "don't worry, he's housebroke." "don't matter. get him out of here, out of crystal city. we have an ordinance against pets. unhealthy beasts. disease-agents. they foul up the atmosphere." "not charley," denver argued hopelessly. "he's not animal; he's a natural air-purifier. gives off ozone." "two hours you've got to get him out of here. two hours. out of town. i hope you go with him. if he don't stink, you do. if i have any trouble with either of you, you go in the tank." tod denver gulped and held his nose. "not your tank. no thanks. i want a hotel room with a tub and shower, not a night in your glue factory. come on, charley. i guess you sleep in the ship." charley grinned evilly at the sergeant. he gave out chuckling sounds, as if meditating. to escape disaster tod denver snatched him up and fled. * * * * * after depositing charley in the ship, he bought clean clothes and registered for a room at the spaceport hotel. after a bath, a shave and a civilized meal he felt more human than he had for many lonely months. he transferred his belongings to the new clothes, and opened his billfold to audit his dwindling resources. after the hotel and the new clothes and the storage-rent at the spaceport for his ship, there was barely enough for even a bust of limited dimensions. it would have to do. as he replaced the money a battered photograph fell out. it was the picture of laird martin's child. a girl, not over four. she was plump and pretty in the vague way children are plump and pretty. an old picture, of course; faded and worn from frequent handling. dirty and not too clear. how could anyone trace a small orphan girl on earth with the picture and the incomplete address? she would be older, of course; maybe six or seven. schools do keep records and lists of the pupils' names might be available if he had money to investigate. which he hadn't. his ship carried three months of supplies. beside the money in his billfold, he had nothing else. nothing but charley, and the sales of him had always backfired. at best, a moondog was not readily marketable. besides, could he part with charley? maybe if he looked into those old martian workings, the money would be forthcoming. after all, the dying laird martin had only asked that a share be reserved for his daughter. put some aside for the kid. use some to find her. keep careful accounting and give her a fair half. more if she needed it and there wasn't too much. it was a nice thought. denver felt warm and decent inside. for the moment some of his thoughts verged upon indecencies. he lacked the price but it cost nothing to look. he called it widow-shopping, which was not a misnomer in crystal city. there were plenty of widows, some lonely, some lively. some free and uninhibited. and he did have the price of the drinks. the impulse carried him outside to a point near the x-like intersection of streets. here, the possibilities of sin and evil splendor dazzled the eye. pressured atmosphere within the domed city was richer than tod denver was used to. oxygen in pressure tanks costs money; and he had accustomed himself to do with as little as possible. charley helped slightly. now the stuff went tingling through nostrils, lungs and on to his veins. it swept upward to his brain and blood piled up there, feeling as if full of bursting tiny bubbles like champagne. he felt gay and feckless, light-headed and big-headed. ego expanded, and he imagined himself a man of destiny at the turning point of his career. he was not drunk, except on oxygen. not drunk yet. but thirsty. the street was garish with display of drinkeries. in neon lights a tilted glass dripped beads of color. there was a name in luminous pastel-tubing: _pot o' stars._ beneath the showering color stood a girl. tod denver's blood pressure soared nimbly upward and collided painfully with blocked safety valves. the look was worth it. tremendous. hot stuff. wow! when bestially young he had dreamed lecherously of such a glorious creature. older, bitter experience had taught him that they existed outside his price class. his eyes worked her over in frank admiration and his imagination worked overtime. she was martian, obviously, from her facial structure, if one noticed her face. martian, of course. but certainly not one of the red desert folk, nor one of the spindly yellow-brown canal-keepers. white. probably sprang originally from the icy marshes near the pole, where several odd remnants of the old white races still lived, and lingered painfully on the short rations of dying mars. she was pale and perilous and wonderful. hair was shimmering bright cascade of spun platinum that fell in muted waves upon shoulders of naked beauty. her eyes swam liquid silver with purple lights dwelling within, and her sullen red lips formed a heartshaped mouth, as if pouting. heavy lids weighed down the eyes, and heavier barbaric bracelets weighted wrists and ankles. twin breasts were mounds of soft, sun-dappled snow frosted with thin metal plates glowing with gemfire. her simple garment was metalcloth, but so fine-spun and gauzelike that it seemed woven of moonlight. it seemed as un-needed as silver leafing draped upon some exotic flowering, but somehow enhanced the general effect. her effect was overpowering. denver followed her inside and followed her sweet, poisonous witchery as the girl glided gracefully along the aisle between ranked tables. as she entered the glittering room talk died for a moment of sheer admiration, then began in swift whispered accents. men dreamed inaudibly and the women envied and hated her on sight. she seemed well-known to the place. her name, denver learned from the awed whispering, was--darbor.... _the pot o' stars_ combined drinking, dancing and gambling. a few people even ate food. there was muffled gaiety, glitter of glass and chromium, and general bad taste in the decoration. the hostesses were dressed merely to tempt and tease the homesick and lovelorn prospectors and lure the better-paid mine-workers into a deadly proximity to alcohol and gambling devices. * * * * * the girl went ahead, and denver followed, regretting his politeness when she beat him to the only unoccupied table. it had a big sign, _reserved_, but she seemed waiting for no one, since she ordered a drink and merely played with it. she seemed wrapped in speculative contemplation of the other customers, as if estimating the possible profits to the house. on impulse, denver edged to her table and stood looking down at her. cold eyes, like amber ice, looked through him. "i know i look like a spacetramp," he observed. "but i'm not invisible. mind if i pull up a cactus and squat?" her eyes were chill calculation. "suit yourself ... if you like to live dangerously." denver laughed and sat down. "how important are you? or is it something else? you don't look so deadly. i'll buy you a drink if you like. or dance, if you're careless about toes." her cold shrug stopped him. "skip it," she snapped. "buy yourself a drink if you can afford it. then go." "what makes you rate a table to yourself? i could go now but i won't. the liquor here's probably poison but who pays for it makes no difference to me. maybe you'd like to buy me a short snort. or just snort at me again. on you, it looks good." the girl gazed at him languorously, puzzled. then she let go with a laugh which sparkled like audible champagne. "good for you," she said eagerly. "you're just a punk, but you have guts. guts, but what else? got any money?" denver bristled. "pots of it," he lied, as any other man would. then, remembering suddenly, "not with me but i know where to lay hands on plenty of it." her eyes calculated. "you're not the goon who came in from the appenines today? with a wild tale of murder and claim-jumpers and old martian workings?" quick suspicion dulled denver's appreciation of beauty. she laughed sharply. "don't worry about me, stupid. i heard it all over town. policemen talk. for me, they jump through hoops. everybody knows. you'd be smart to lie low before someone jumps out of a sung-bush and says boo! at you. if you expected the cops to do anything, you're naive. or stupid. about those martian workings, is there anything to the yarn?" denver grunted. he knew he was talking too much but the urge to brag is masculine and universal. "maybe, i don't know. martian miners dabbled in heavy metals. maybe they found something there and maybe they left some. if they did, i'm the guy with the treasure map. willing to take a chance on me?" darbor smiled calculatingly. "look me up when you find the treasure. you're full of laughs tonight. trying to pick me up on peanuts. men lie down and beg me to walk on their faces. they lay gold or jewels or pots of uranium at my feet. got any money--now?" "i can pay ... up to a point," denver confessed miserably. "we're not in business, kid. but champagne's on me. don't worry about it. i own the joint up to a point. i don't, actually. big ed caltis owns it. but i'm the dummy. i front for him because of taxes and the cops. we'll drink together tonight, and all for free. i haven't had a good laugh since they kicked me out of venusport. you're it. i hope you aren't afraid of big ed. everybody else is. he bosses the town, the cops and all the stinking politicians. he dabbles in every dirty racket, from girls to the gambling upstairs. he pays my bills, too, but so far he hasn't collected. not that he hasn't tried." denver was impressed. big ed's girl. if she was. and he sat with her, alone, drinking at big ed's expense. that was a laugh. a hot one. rich, even for luna. "big ed?" he said. "the scorpion of mars!" darbor's eyes narrowed. "the same. the name sounds like a gangsters' nickname. it isn't. he was a pro-wrestler. champion of the interplanetary league for three years. but he's a gangster and racketeer at heart. his bully-boys play rough. still want to take a chance, sucker?" a waitress brought drinks and departed. snowgrape champagne from mars cooled in a silver bucket. it was the right temperature, so did not geyser as denver unskilfully wrested out the cork. he filled the glasses, gave one to the girl. raising the other, he smiled into darbor's dangerous eyes. "the first one to us," he offered gallantly. "after that, we'll drink to big ed. i hope he chokes. he was a louse in the ring." darbor's face lighted like a flaming sunset in the cloud-canopy of venus. "here's to us then," she responded. "and to guts. you're dumb and delightful, but you do something to me i'd forgotten could be done. and maybe i'll change my mind even if you don't have the price. i think i'll kiss you. big ed is still a louse, and not only in the ring. he thinks he can out-wrestle me but i know all the nasty holds. i play for keeps or not at all. keep away from me, kid." denver's imagination had caught fire. under the combined stimuli of darbor and snowgrape champagne, he seemed to ascend to some high, rarified, alien dimension where life became serene and uncomplicated. a place where one ate and slept and made fortunes and love, and only the love was vital. he smoldered. "play me for keeps," he urged. "maybe i will," darbor answered clearly. she was feeling the champagne too, but not as exaltedly as denver who was not used to such potent vintages as darbor and sg-mars, 2028. "maybe i will, kid, but ask me after the martian workings work out." "don't think i won't," he promised eagerly. "want to dance?" her face lighted up. she started to her feet, then sank back. "better not," she murmured. "big ed doesn't like other men to come near me. he's big, bad and jealous. he may be here tonight. don't push your luck, kid. i'm trouble, bad trouble." denver snapped his fingers drunkenly. "that for big ed. i eat trouble." her eyes were twin pools of darkness. they widened as ripples of alarm spread through them. "start eating," she said. "here it comes!" big ed caltis stood behind denver's chair. iii tod denver turned. "hello, rubber-face," he said pleasantly. "sit down and have a drink. you're paying for it." big ed caltis turned apoplectic purple but he sat down. a waitress hustled up another glass. silence in the room. every eye focused upon the table where big ed caltis sat and stared blindly at his uninvited guest. skilfully, denver poured sparkling liquid against the inside curve of the third glass. with exaggerated care, he refilled his own and the girl's. he shoved the odd glass toward big ed with a careless gesture that was not defiance but held a hint of something cold and deadly and menacing. "drink hearty, champ," he suggested. "you'll need strength and dutch courage to hear some of the things i've wanted to tell you. i've been holding them for a long time. this is it." big ed nodded slowly, ponderously. "i'm listening." denver began a long bill of particulars against big ed caltis of crystal city. he omitted little, though some of it was mere scandalous gossip with which solo-prospectors who had been the objects of a squeeze-play consoled themselves and took revenge upon their tormentor from safe distance. denver paused once, briefly, to re-assess and recapture the delight he took in gazing at darbor's beauty seated opposite. then he resumed his account of the life and times of big ed, an improvised essay into the folly and stupidity of untamed greed which ended upon a sustained note of vituperation. big ed smiled with sardonic amusement. he was in his late forties, running a bit to blubber, but still looked strong and capable. he waited until tod denver ran down, waited and smiled patiently. "if you've finished," he said. "i should compliment you on the completeness of the picture you paint of me. when i need a biographer, i'll call on you. just now i have another business proposition. i understand you know the location of some ancient martian mine-workings. you need a partner. i'm proposing myself." denver paled. "i have a partner," he said, nodding toward the girl. big ed smiled thinly. "that's settled then. her being your partner makes it easy. what she has is mine. i bought her. she works for me and everything she has is mine." darbor's eyes held curious despair. but hatred boiled up in her. "not altogether," she corrected him evenly. "you never got what you wanted most--me! and you never will. i just resigned. get yourself another dummy." but ed stood up. "very good. maudlin but magnificent. let me offer my congratulations to both of you. but you're mistaken. i'll get everything i want. i always do. i'm not through with either of you." darbor ignored him. "dance?" she asked denver. he rose and gallantly helped her from her chair. big ed caltis, after a black look, vanished toward the offices and gambling rooms upstairs. he paused once and glanced back. denver laughed suddenly. darbor studied him and caught the echo of her own fear in his eyes. he mustered a hard core of courage in himself, but it required distinct effort. "when i was a kid i liked to swing on fence-gates. once, the hinges broke. i skinned my knee." her body was trembling. some of it got into her voice. "it could happen again." he met the challenge of her. she was bright steel, drawn to repel lurking enemies. "i have another knee," he said, grinning. "but yours are too nice to bark up. where's the back door?" the music was venusian, a swaying, sensuous thing of weirdest melodies and off-beat rhythms. plucked and bowed strings blended with wailing flutes and an exotic tympany to produce music formed of passion and movement. tod denver and darbor threaded their way through stiffly-paired swaying couples toward the invisible door at the rear. "i hope you don't mind scar tissue on your toes," he murmured, bending his cheek in impulsive caress. he wished that he were nineteen again and could still dream. twenty-seven seemed so aged and battered and cynical. and dreams can become nightmares. they were near the door. "champagne tastes like vinegar if it's too cold," she replied. "my mouth is puckery and tastes like swill. i hope it's the blank champagne. maybe i'm scared." they dropped pretense and bolted for the door. in the alley, they huddled among rubbish and garbage cans because the shadows lay thicker there. * * * * * the danger was real and ugly and murderous. three thugs came boiling through the alley door almost on their heels. they lay in the stinking refuse, not daring to breathe. brawny, muscular men with faces that shone brutally in the blazing, reflected earthlight scurried back and forth, trying locked doors and making a hurried expedition to scout out the street. passersby were buttonholed and roughly questioned. no one knew anything to tell. one hatchetman came back to report. big ed's voice could be heard in shrill tirade of fury. "you fools. don't let them get away. i'll wring the ears off the lot of you if they get to the spaceport. he was there; he was the one who spotted us. he can identify my ship. now get out and find them. i'll pay a thousand vikdals martian to the man who brings me either one. kill the girl if you have to, but bring him back alive. i want his ears, and he knows where the stuff is. now get out of here!" more dark figures spurted from the dark doorway. darbor gave involuntary shudder as they swept past in a flurry of heavy-beating footsteps. denver held her tightly, hand over her mouth. she bit his hand and he repressed a squeal of pain. she made no outcry and the pounding footsteps faded into distance. big ed caltis went inside, loudly planning to call the watch-detail at the spaceport. his word was law in crystal city. "can we beat them to the ship?" denver asked. "we can try," darbor replied.... the spaceport was a blaze of light. tod denver expertly picked the gatelock. the watchman came out of his shack, picking his teeth. he looked sleepy, but grinned appreciatively at darbor. "hi, tod! you sure get around. man just called about you. sounded mad. what's up?" "plenty. what did you tell him?" the watchman went on picking his teeth. "nothing. he don't pay my wages. want your ship? last one in the line-up. watch yourself. i haven't looked at it, but there've been funny noises tonight. maybe you've got company." "maybe i have. lend me your gun, ike?" "sure, i've eaten. i'm going back to sleep. if you don't need the gun, leave it on the tool-locker. if you do, i want my name in the papers. they'll misspell it, but the old lady will get a kick. so long. good luck. if it's a boy, ike's a good, old-fashioned name." tod denver and darbor ran the length of the illuminated hangar to the take-off pits at the far end. his space sled was the last in line. that would help for a quick blast-off. darbor was panting, ready to drop from exhaustion. but she dragged gamely on. gun ready, he reached up to the airlock flap. inside the ship was sudden commotion. a scream was cut off sharply. scurried movement became bedlam. uproar ceased as if a knife had cut through a ribbon of sound. denver flung open the flap and scrabbled up and through the valve to the interior. two of big ed's trigger men lay on the floor. one had just connected with a high-voltage charge from charley. the other had quietly fainted. denver dumped them outside, helped darbor up and closed the ship for take-off. he switched off cabin lights. he wasted no time in discussion until the ship was airborne and had nosed through the big dome-valves into the airless lunar sky. a fat hunk of earth looked like a blueberry chiffon pie, but was brighter. it cast crazy shadows on the terrain unreeling below. darbor sat beside him. she felt dazed, and wondered briefly what had happened to her. less than an hour before she had entered the _pot o' stars_ with nothing on her mind but assessing the clients and the possible receipts for the day. too much had happened and too rapidly. she could not assimilate details. something launched itself through darkness at her. it snugged tightly to shoulder and neck and made chuckling sounds. stiff fur nuzzled her skin. there was a vague prickling of hot needles, but it was disturbing rather than painful. she screamed. "shut up!" said denver, laughing. "it's just charley. but don't excite him or you'll regret it." from the darkness came a confused burble of sounds as charley explored and bestowed his affections upon a new friend still too startled to appreciate the gesture. darbor tried vainly to fend off the lavish demonstrations. denver gunned the space sled viciously, and felt the push of acceleration against his body. he headed for a distant mountain range. "just charley, my pet moondog," he explained. "what in luna is that?" "you'll find out. he loves everybody. me, i'm more discriminating, but i can be had. my father warned me about women like you." "how would he know?" darbor asked bitterly. "what did he say about women like me?" "it's exciting while it lasts, and it lasts as long as your money holds out. it's wonderful if you can afford it. but charley's harmless. he's like me, he just wants to be loved. go on. pet him." "all males are alike," darbor grumbled. obediently, she ran fingers over the soft, wirelike pseudo-fur. the fingers tingled as if weak charges of electricity surged through them. "does it--er, charley ever blow a fuse?" she asked. "i'd like to have met your father. he sounds like a man who had a lot of experience with women. the wrong women. by the way, where are we going?" * * * * * tod denver had debated the point with himself. "to the scene of the crime," he said. "it's not good, and they may look for us there. but we can hole up for a few days till the hunt dies down. it might be the last place big ed would expect to find us. later, unless we find something in the martian workings, we'll head for the far places. okay?" darbor shrugged. "i suppose. but then what. i don't imagine you'll be a chivalrous jackass and want to marry me?" the space sled drew a thin line of silver fire through darkness as he debated that point. "now that i'm sober, i'll think about it. give me time. they say a man can get used to to anything." a ghostly choking sounded from the seat beside him. he wondered if charley had blown something. "do they say what girls have to get used to?" she asked, her voice oddly tangled. tod denver tempered the wind to the shorn lamb. "we'll see how the workings pan out. i'd want my money to last." what darbor replied should be written on asbestos. * * * * * their idyl at the mines lasted exactly twenty-seven hours. denver showed darbor around, explained some of the technicalities of moon-mining to her. the girl misused some precious water to try washing the alley-filth from her clothes. her experiment was not a success and the diaphanous wisps of moonsilver dissolved. she stood in the wrapped blanket and was too tired and depressed even to cry. "i guess it wasn't practical," she decided ruefully. "it did bunch up in the weirdest places in your spare spacesuit. have you any old rag i could borrow?" denver found cause for unsafe mirth in the spectacle of her blanketed disaster. "i'll see." he rooted about in a locker and found a worn pair of trousers which he threw to the girl. a sweater, too shrunken and misshapen for him to wear again, came next. dismayed, she inspected the battered loot; then was inspired to quick alterations. pant-legs cut off well above the baggy knees made passable shorts; the sweater bulged a trifle at the shoulders, it fit adequately elsewhere--and something more than adequately. charley fled her vicinity in extremes of voluble embarrassment as she changed and zipped up the substitute garments. "nice legs," denver observed, which was an understatement. "watch out you don't skin those precious knees again," she warned darkly. time is completely arbitrary on the moon as far as earth people are concerned. one gets used to prolonged light and dark periods. earth poked above the horizon, bathing the heights of the range with intense silver-blue light. but moonshadows lay heavily in the hollows and the deep gorges were still pools of intense gloom. clocks are set to the meaningless twenty-four hour divisions of day and night on earth, which have nothing to do with two-week days and nights on luna. after sunset, with earthlight still strong and pure and deceptively warm-looking, the landscapes become a barren, haunted wasteland. time itself seems unreal. time passed swiftly. the idyl was brief. for twenty-seven earth-hours after their landing at the mines came company...! an approaching ship painted a quick-dying trail of fire upon the black vault of sky. it swooped suddenly from nowhere, and the trapped fugitives debated flight or useless defense. alone, denver would have stayed and fought, however uneven and hopeless the battle. but he found the girl a mental block to all thoughts of open, pitched battle on the shadowy, moonsilvered slopes. he might surprise the pursuers and flush them by some type of ambush. but they would be too many for him, and his feeble try would end either in death or capture. neither alternative appealed to him. with darbor, he had suddenly found himself possessed of new tenacity toward life, and he had desperate, painful desire to live for her. he chose flight. iv the ship dropped short-lived rocket landing flares, circled and came in for a fast landing on the cleared strip of brittle-crusted ash. some distance from the hastily-patched and now hastily abandoned mine buildings, tod denver and darbor paused and shot hasty, fearful glances toward the landed ship. by earthlight, they could distinguish its lines, though not the color. it was a drab shadow now against the vivid grayness of slopes. figures tiny from distance emerged from it and scattered across the flat and up into the clustered buildings. a few stragglers went over to explore and investigate denver's space sled in the unlikely possibility that he and the girl had trusted to its meager and dubious protection. besides the ship, the hunters would find evidence of recent occupation in the living quarters, from which denver had removed the frozen corpse before permitting darbor to assist with the crude remodeling which he had undertaken. afterward, when the mine buildings and exposed shafts had been turned out on futile quest for the fugitives, the search would spread. tracks should be simple enough to follow, once located. denver had anticipated this potential clue to the pursuit, and had kept their walking to the bare, rocky heights of the spur as long as possible. he hoped to be able to locate the old martian working, but the chance was slim. calculating the shadow-apex of mitre peak at 2017 et was complicated by several unknown quantities. which peak was mitre peak? was that shadow-apex earth-shadow or sun-shadow? and had he started out in the correct direction to find the line of deep-cut arrow markings at all? the first intangible resolved itself. one mitre-shaped peak stood out alone and definite above the sharply defined silhouettes of the mountains. it must be mitre peak. it had to be. the next question was the light source casting the shadow-apex. there were two possible answers. it was possible to estimate the approximate location of either sun or earth at a given time, but calculations involved in working out too many possibilities on different earth-days of the lunar-day made the earth's shadow-casting the likeliest prospect. neither location was particularly exact, and probably laird martin had expected his directions to be gone into under less harrowing circumstances than those in which denver now found himself. with time for trial and error one could eventually locate the place. but denver was hurried. he trod upon one of the markings while he still sought the elusive shadow apex. after that, it was a grim race to follow the markings to the old mines, and to get under cover behind defensible barricades in time to repel invasion. they played a nerve-wracking game of hare and hounds in tricky floods of earthlight, upon slopes and spills of broken rock, amid a goblin's garden of towering jagged spires. it was tense work over the bad going, and the light was both distorted and insufficient. in shadow, they groped blindly from arrow to arrow. in the patches of earthglare, they fled at awkward, desperate speed. life and death were the stakes. life, or a fighting chance to defend life, possible wealth from the ancient workings, made a glittering goal ahead. and ever the gray hounds snapped at their heels, with death in some ugly guise the penalty for losing the game. charley was ecstatic. he gamboled and capered, he zoomed and zigzagged, he essayed quick, climbing spirals and almost came to grief among the tangled pinnacles on the ridge of the hogback. he swooped downward again in a series of shallow, easy glides and began the performance all over again. it was a game for him, too. but a game in which he tried only to astound himself, with swift, dizzy miracles of magnetic movement. charley enjoyed himself hugely. he was with the two people he liked most. he was having a spirited game among interlaced shadows and sudden, substantial obstacles of rock. he nuzzled the fleeing pair playfully, and followed them after his own lazy and intricate and incredibly whimsical fashion. his private mode of locomotion was not bounded by the possibilities involved in feet and tiring legs. he scampered and had fun. it was not fun for tod denver and darbor. the girl's strength was failing. she lagged, and denver slowed his pace to support her tottering progress. without warning, the mine entrance loomed before them. it was old and crumbly with a thermal erosion resembling decay. it was high and narrow and forbiddingly dark. tod denver had brought portable radilumes, which were needed at once. inside the portals was no light at all. thick, tangible dark blocked the passage. it swallowed light. just inside, the mine gallery was too wide for easy defense. further back, there was a narrowing. * * * * * denver seized on the possibilities for barricading and set to work, despite numbed and weary muscles. walking on the moon is tiring for muscles acquired on worlds of greater gravity. he was near exhaustion, but the stimulus of fear is strong. he worked like a maniac, hauling materials for blockade, carrying the smaller ingredients and rolling or dragging the heavier. a brief interval of rest brought darbor to his side. she worked with him and helped with the heavier items. fortunately, the faint gravity eased their task, speeded it. for pursuit had not lagged. their trail had been found and followed. from behind his barricade, denver picked off the first two hired thugs of the advance guard as they toiled upward, too eagerly impatient for caution. a network of hastily-aimed beams of heat licked up from several angles of the slope, but none touched the barricade. the slope, which flattened just outside the entrance made exact shooting difficult, made a direct hit on the barricade almost impossible, unless one stood practically inside the carved entrance-way. denver inched to the door and fired. the battle was tedious, involved, but a stalemate. lying on his belly, denver wormed as close as he dared to the break of slope outside the door. there, he fired snap shots at everything that moved on the slopes. everything that moved on the slopes made a point of returning the gesture. some shots came from places he had seen no movement. it went on for a long time. it was pointless, wanton waste of heat-blaster ammunition. but it satisfied some primal urge in the human male without solving anything. until darbor joined him, denver did not waste thought upon the futilities of the situation. her presence terrified him, and he urged her back inside. she was stubborn, but complied when he dragged her back with him. "now stay inside, you fool," she muttered, her voice barely a whisper in his communication amplifier. "you stay inside," he commanded with rough tenderness. they both stayed inside, crouched together behind the barricade. "i think i got three of them," he told her. "there seemed to be eight at first. some went back to the ship. for more men or supplies, i don't know. i don't like this." "relax," she suggested. "you've done all you can." "i guess it's back to your gilded cage for you, baby," he said. "my money didn't last." "sometimes you behave like a mad dog," she observed. "i'm not sure i like you. you enjoyed that butchery out there. you hated to come inside. what did it prove? there are too many of them. they'll kill us, eventually. or starve us out. have you any bright ideas?" denver was silent. none of his ideas were very bright. he was at the end of his rope. he had tied a knot in it and hung on. but the rope seemed very short and very insecure. "hang on, i guess. just hang on and wait. they may try a rush. if they do i'll bathe the entrance in a full load from my blaster. if they don't rush, we sit it out. sit and wait for a miracle. it won't happen but we can hope." darbor tried to hug the darkness around her. she was a martian, tough-minded she hoped. it would be nasty, either way. but death was not pleasant. she must try to be strong and face whatever came. she shrugged and resigned herself. "when the time comes i'll try to think of something touching and significant to say," she promised. "you hold the fort," denver told her. "and don't hesitate to shoot if you have to. there's a chance to wipe them out if they try to force in all at once. they won't, but--" "where are you going? for a walk?" "have to see a man about a dog. there may be a back entrance. i doubt it, since martian workings on the moon were never very deep. but i'd like a look at the jackpot. do you mind?" darbor sighed. "not if you hurry back." deep inside the long gallery was a huge, vaulted chamber. here, denver found what he sought. there was no back entrance. the mine was a trap that had closed on him and darbor. old martian workings, yes. but whatever the martians had sought and delved from the mooncrust was gone. layered veins had petered out, were exhausted, empty. some glittering, crystalline smears remained in the crevices but the crystals were dull and life-less. denver bent close, sensed familiarity. the substance was not unknown. he wetted a finger and probed with it, rubbed again and tested for taste. the taste was sharp and bitter. as bitter as his disappointment. it was all a grim joke. valuable enough once to be used as money in the old days on earth. but hardly valuable enough, then, even in real quantity, to be worth the six lives it had cost up to now--counting his and darbor's as already lost. first, laird martin, with his last tragic thoughts of a tiny girl on earth, now orphaned. then the three men down the slope, hideous in their bulged and congealing death. himself and darbor next on the list, with not much time to go. all for a few crystals of--salt! * * * * * the end was as viciously ironic as the means had been brutal, but greed is an ugly force. it takes no heed of men and their brief, futile dreams. denver shrugged and rejoined his small garrison. the girl, in spite of the comradeship of shared danger, was as greedy as the others outside. instinctively, denver knew that, and he found the understanding in himself to pity her. "are they still out there?" he asked needlessly. darbor nodded. "what did you find?" he debated telling her the truth. but why add the bitterness to the little left of her life? let her dream. she would probably die without ever finding out that she had thrown herself away following a mirage. let her dream and die happy. "enough," he answered roughly. "but does it matter?" her eyes rewarded his deceit, but the light was too poor for him to see them. it was easy enough to imagine stars in them, and even a man without illusions can still dream. "maybe it will matter," she replied. "we can hope for a miracle. it will make all the difference for us if the miracle happens." denver laughed. "then the money will make a difference if we live through this? you mean you'll stay with me?" darbor answered too quickly. "of course." then she hesitated, as if something of his distaste echoed within her. she went on, her voice strange. "sure, i'm mercenary. i've been broke in venusport, and again here on luna. it's no fun. poverty is not all the noble things the copybooks say. it's undignified and degrading. you want to stop washing after a while, because it doesn't seem to matter. yes, i want money. am i different from other people?" denver laughed harshly. "no. i just thought for a few minutes that you were. i hoped i was at the head of your list. but let's not quarrel. we're friends in a jam together. no miracle is going to happen. it's stupid to fight over a salt mine, empty at that, when we're going to die. i'm like you; i wanted a miracle to happen, but mine didn't concern money. we both got what we asked for, that's all. if you bend over far enough somebody will kick you in the pants. i'm going out, darbor. pray for me." the blankness of her face-plate turned toward him. a glitter, dark and opaque, was all he could make out. "i'm sorry," she said. "i know it was the wrong answer. but don't be a fool. he'll kill you, and i'm afraid to be in the dark, alone." "i'll leave charley with you." denver broke the girl's clasp on his arm and edged slow to the doorway. he shouted. "hey, caltis!" there was stunning silence. then a far, muted crackle in his earphones. a voice answered, "yes? i'm here. what's on your mind, funny boy?" "a parley." "nuts, but come on out. i'll talk." "you come up," denver argued. "i don't trust you." big ed caltis considered the proposition. "how do i know you won't try to nail me for hostage?" "you don't. but i'm not a fool. what good would it do even if i killed you. your men are down there. they'd still want the mine. i don't think they care enough about you to deal. they'd kill us anyhow. bring your gun if it makes you feel more like a man." after an interval big ed caltis appeared in the doorway. as he entered denver retreated into the shadow-zone until he stood close beside the rude barricade. "i'll bargain with you, caltis. you can have the workings. let us go free, with an hour's start in my space sled. i'll sign over any share we could claim and agree never to bother you again. it's no use to a corpse. just let us go." caltis gave a short laugh. in the earphones, it sounded nasty. "no deal, denver. i hate your guts. and i want darbor. i've got both of you where i want you, sewed up. we can sit here and wait. we've plenty of air, food and water. you'll run short. i want you to come out, crawling. she can watch you die, slowly, because i'm not giving you any air, water or food. then i want her to squirm a while before i kick her back into the sewers. you can't bargain. i have her, you, the workings. i've got what i want." hate and anger strangled denver's reply. caltis skulked back out of sight. without moving, denver hailed him again. "okay, puttyface!" denver screamed. "you asked for it. i'm coming out. stand clear and order off your thugs or i'll squeeze you till your guts squirt out your nose like toothpaste from a tube. i'll see how much man there is left in you. it'll be all over the slope when i'm through." his taunt drew fire as he had hoped it would. he dodged quickly behind the shelter of the barricade. a beam of dazzling fire penciled the rock wall. it crackled, spread, flaring to incredible heat and light. it exploded, deluging the gallery with glare and spattering rock. after the glare, darkness seemed thick enough to slice. in that second of stunned reaction blindness, denver was leaping the barricade and sprinting toward the entrance. caltis came to meet him. both fired at once. both missed. the random beams flicked at the rough, timbered walls and lashed out with thunderous violence. locked together, the men pitched back and forth. they rocked and swayed, muscles straining. it was deadlock again. denver was youth and fury. caltis had experience and the training of a fighter. it was savage, lawless, the sculptured stance of embattled champions. almost motionless, as forces canceled out. the battle was equal. v while they tangled, both blocked, darbor slipped past them and stood outside the entrance. she was exposed, a clear target. but the men below dared not fire until they knew where caltis was, what had happened to him. she held the enemy at bay. gun ready, darbor faced down the slopes. it was not necessary to pull trigger. not for the moment. she waited and hoped and dared someone to move. neither man gave first. it was the weakened timbering that supported the gallery roof. loose stones rained down. dry, cold and brittle wood sagged under strain. both wild shots had taken shattering effect. timbers yielded, slowly at first, then faster. showering of loose stones became a steady stream. a minor avalanche. darbor heard the sound or caught some vibration through her helmet microphones. the men were too involved to notice. caltis heard her. he got a cruel nosehold, twisted denver's nose like an instrument dial. denver screamed, released his grip. in the scramble, his foot slipped. darbor cried out shrill warning. breaking free, caltis bolted in panic toward the entrance. the fall of rock was soundless. it spilled down in increasing torrents. larger sections of ceiling were giving away. above the prostrate denver hovered a poised phantom of eerie light. charley, bored, had gone to sleep. awakening, he found a game still going on. a fine new game. it was fascinating. he wanted to join the fun. like an angle of reflected light cast by a turning mirror, he darted. the running figure aroused his curiosity. charley streamed through the collapsing gallery. he caught up with caltis just inside the entrance. with a burble of insane, twittering glee, he went into action. it was all in the spirit of things. just another delightful game. like a thunderbolt he hurtled upon caltis, tangled with him. it was absurd, insane. man and moondog went down together in a silly sprawl. sparks flew, became a confused tesseract of luminous motion. radiance blazed up and danced and flickered and no exact definition of the intertwined bodies was possible. glowing lines wove fat webs of living color. it was too swift, too involved for any sane perception. a wild, sprawling of legs, arms and body encircled and became part of the intricacies of speeding, impossible light. it was a mess. some element or combination of forces in charley, inspired by excitement and sheer delight, made unfortunate contact with ground currents of vagrant electricity. electricity ceased to be invisible. it became sizzling, immense flash, in which many complexities made part of a simple whole. it was spectacular but brief. it was a flaming vortex of interlocked spirals of light and color and naked force. it was fireworks. and it was the end of big ed caltis. he fried, and hot grease spattered about him. he sizzled like a bug on a hot stove. when denver reached the entrance, man and moondog lay in a curious huddle of interrupted action. it was over. charley was tired, but he still lived and functioned after his curious fashion. for the moment, he had lost interest in further fun and games. he lay quietly in a corner of rough rock and tried to rebuild his scattered and short-circuited energies. he pulsed and crackled and sound poured in floods of muffled static from the earphones in denver's helmet. but this was no time for social amenities. big ed caltis was dead, very dead. but the others down the slope were still alive. like avenging angels, denver and darbor charged together down the slope. besiegers scattered and fled in panic as twinned beams of dreadful light and heat scourged their hiding places. they fled through the grotesque shadow patterns of lunar night. they fled back, some of them, to the black ship which had brought them. and there, they ran straight into the waiting arms of a detail from space patrol headquarters. * * * * * tod denver's friend, the watchman, had talked. from spaceport he had called the space patrol and talked where it would do some good. a bit late to be of much use, help had arrived. it took the space patrol squads a half hour to round up the scattered survivors. darbor went back to the mine-buildings with the space patrol lieutenant as escort. denver trudged wearily back up the slope to recover charley. the moondog was in a bad way. he bulged badly amidships and seemed greatly disturbed, not to say temperamental. with tenderness and gentle care, denver cradled the damaged charley in his arms and made his way back to the living shack at the mine. space cops were just hustling in the last of the prisoners and making ready to return to civilization. denver thanked them, but with brief curtness, for charley's condition worried him. he went inside and tried to make his pet comfortable, wondering where one would look on the moon for a veterinary competent to treat a moondog. darbor found him crouched over charley's impoverished couch upon the metal table. "i want to say goodbye," she told him. "i'm sorry about charley. the lieutenant says i can go back with them. so it's back to the bright lights for me." "good luck," denver said shortly, tearing his attention from charley's flickering gyrations. "i hope you find a man with a big fat bankbook." "so do i," darbor admitted. "i could use a new wardrobe. i wish it could have been you. if things had worked out--" "forget it," denver snapped. "there'd have been martin's kid. she'd have got half anyhow. you wouldn't have liked that." darbor essayed a grin. "you know, i've been thinking. maybe the old guy was my father. it could be. i never knew who my old man was, and i did go to school on earth. reform school." denver regarded her cynically. "couldn't be. i'm willing to believe you don't know who your father was. some women should keep books. but that kid's not martian." darbor shrugged. "doesn't matter. so long, kid. if you make a big strike, look me up." the space patrol lieutenant was waiting for her. she linked arms with him, and vanished toward the ship. denver went back to charley. intently he studied the weird creature, wondering what to do. a timid knock startled him. for a moment, wild hope dawned. maybe darbor-but it wasn't darbor. a strange girl stood in the doorway. she pushed open the inner flap of the airlock and stepped from the valve. "i was looking around," she explained. "i bummed my way out with the patrol ship. do you mind?" denver scowled at her. "should i?" the girl tried a smile on him but she looked ill-at-ease. "you look like one of the local boy scouts," she said. "how about helping a lady in distress?" "i make a hobby of it," he snarled. "i don't even care if they're ladies. but i'm fresh out of romance and slightly soured. and i'm worried about the one friend who's dumb enough to stick by me. you picked a bad time to ask. what do you want?" the girl smiled shyly. "all right, so you don't look like a boy scout. but i'm still a girl in a jam. i'm tired and broke and hungry. all i want is a sandwich, and maybe a lift to the next town. i should have gone back with the patrol ship but i guess they forgot me. i thought maybe, if you're going somewhere that's civilized, i could bum a lift. what's wrong with your friend?" denver indicated charley. "frankly, i don't know." he balked at trying to explain again just what a moondog was. "but who are you? what did you want here?" the girl stared at him. "didn't you know? i'm soleil. my father owned this mine. he thought he'd found something, and sent for me to share it. it took the last of our money to get me here, but i wanted to come. we hadn't seen each other for twenty years. now he's dead, and i'm broke, alone and scared. i need to get to some place where i can dream up an eating job." "you're martin's kid?" soleil nodded, absently, looking at charley. the moondog gave a strange, electronic whimper. there was an odd expression on the girl's face. a flash of inspiration seemed to enlighten her. "i'll take care of this," she said softly. "you wait outside." somewhat later, after blinding displays of erratic lightnings had released a splendor of fantastic color through the view-ports to reflect staggeringly from the mountain walls, a tired girl called out to tod denver. she met him inside the airlock. in her arms snuggled a pile of writhing radiance, like glowing worms. moonpups. a whole litter of moonpups. "they're cute," soleil commented, "but i've never seen anything quite like this before." "it must have been a delayed fuse," said denver, wilting. "here we go again." he fainted.... * * * * * awakening was painful to denver. he remembered nightmare, and the latter part of his memory dealt with moonpups. swarms of moonpups. as if charley hadn't been enough. he was not sure that he wanted to open his eyes. he thought he heard the outer flap of the airlock open, then someone pounding on the inner door. habit of curiosity conquered, and his eyelids blinked. he looked up to find a strange man beside his bed. the man was fat, fussy, pompous. but he looked prosperous, and seemed excited. denver glanced warily about the room. after all, he had been strained. perhaps it was all part of delirium. no sign of the girl either. could he have imagined her, too? he sighed and remembered darbor. "tod denver?" asked the fat, prosperous man. "i got your name from a sergeant of security police in crystal city. he says you own a moondog. is that true?" denver nodded painfully. "i'm afraid it is. what's the charge?" the stranger seemed puzzled, amused. "this may seem odd to you, but i'm in the market for moondogs. scientific laboratories all over the system want them, and are paying top prices. the most unusual and interesting life form in existence. but moondogs are scarce. would you consider parting with yours? i can assure you he'll receive kind treatment and good care. they're too valuable for anything else." denver almost blanked out again. it was too much like the more harrowing part of his dreams. he blinked his eyes, but the man was still there. "one of us is crazy," he mused aloud. "maybe both of us. i can't sell charley. i'd miss him too much." suddenly, as it happens in dreams, soleil martin stood beside him. her arms were empty, but she stood there, smiling. "you wouldn't have to sell charley," she said, giving denver a curious, thrusting glance. "had you forgotten that you're now a father, or foster-grandfather, or something. you have moonpups, in quantity. i had to let you lie there while i put the little darlings to bed. and it's not charley any more, please. charlotte. it has to be charlotte." denver paled and groaned. he turned hopefully to the fat stranger. "say, mister, how many moonpups can you use?" "all of them, if you'll sell." the man whipped out a signed, blank check, and quickly filled in astronomical figures. denver looked at it, whistled, then doubted first his sanity, then the check. "take them," denver murmured. "take them, quick, before you change your mind, or all this evaporates in dream." a moondog has no nerves. charley--or charlotte--had none, but the brood of moonpups had already begun to get on whatever passed for nerves in his electronic make-up. he was glad and relieved to be rid of his numerous progeny. he, or she, showed passionate and embarrassing affection for denver, and even generously included soleil martin in the display. denver stared at her suddenly while she helped the commission agent round up his radiant loot and make ready for the return to town. it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. she was pretty. not beautiful, of course. just pretty. and nice. he remembered that he was carrying her picture in his pocket. she was even an earth-girl. they were almost as scarce in the moon colonies as moondogs. "look here," he said. "i have money now. i was going out prospecting but it can wait. i kind of inherited you from your father, you know. do you need dough or something?" soleil laughed. "i need everything. but don't bother. i haven't any claim on you. and i can ride back to the city with mr. potts. he looks like a better bet. he can write such big checks, too." denver made a face of disgust. "all women are alike," he muttered savagely. "go on, then--" soleil frowned. "don't say it. don't even think it. i'm not going anywhere. not till you go. i just wanted you to ask me nice. i'm staying. i'll go prospecting with you. i like that. dad made me study minerals and mining. i can be a real help. with that big check, we can get a real outfit." denver stopped dreaming. "but you don't know what it's like out there. just empty miles of loneliness and heat and desert and mountains of bare rock. not even the minimum comforts. nights last two earth weeks. there'd just be you and me and charlotte." soleil smiled fondly. "it listens good, and might be fun. i like charlotte and you. i'm realistic and strong enough to be a genuine partner." tod denver gasped. "you sure know what you want--partner!" he grinned. "now we'll have a married woman along. i was worried about wandering around, unprotected, with a female moondog--" soleil laughed. "i think charlotte needs a chaperone." * * * * * the strange voyage and adventures of domingo gonsales, to the world in the moon. containing <an account of the island of st. hellena; the place where he resided some years in, and where he planned this wonderful voyage; his entering on board one of the homeward-bound _east-india_ ships for _spain_; their running on the rocks near the pike of _teneriff_, to avoid an _english_ squadron of ships, that were in pursuit of the _spanish_ fleet; _gonsales_ had just time to fix his machine, which carried him in safety to the pike of _teneriff_, having rested his gansas on the mountain, whence was pursued by the savages; when giving the signal to his birds, they arose in the air with him for their journey to the moon: the wonderful apparitions and devils he met with in his progress; their temptations to him, which he avoided, and their supplying him with choice provisions; his leaving this hellish crew, and proceeding on his voyage to the moon; his safe arrival there; the manners, customs, and language of the emperors, kings, princes and people: his short stay there, to the great grief of the _lunars_; the inestimable presents in jewels the author received at his departure; his repassing to our earthly globe again, and was set down in _china_ by his birds; his being taken for a magician by the country people, and preserved from their fury by a _chinese_ mandarin; his going aboard an india ship bound to _europe_; his safe arrival in his own country, where he made his discoveries to the king of _spain_, who held several cabinet councils to deliberate on a proper use to be made of these discoveries. with a description of the pike of _teneriff_, as travelled up by some _english_ merchants. the second edition. london: printed by john lever, bookseller, stationer, and printseller, at _little moorgate_, next to _london wall_, near _moorfields_ 1768. (price one shilling.) * * * * * the strange voyage and adventures of _domingo gonsales_, to the world in the moon, by the several ganza's, or large geese. before i come to relate our extraordinary voyage of _domingo gonzales_ to the world in the moon, i will make a halt at st. _hellens_, or _hellena_, which is now possest by the honourable _east-india_ company. it is called the sea inn, because the _english_ and other nations stop there as a place for watering and refreshment in their long voyages to _india_. it was formerly seized by the _dutch_, but retaken _may_ 6th, 1673, by captain _munday_, with a squadron of _english_ ships, and three rich _dutch east india ships_ made prizes in the harbour; since which the company have fortified and secured it, against any future invasion of _dutch, portuguese_, or _spaniards_. it was called _santa helena_ by the _portuguese_, who discovered it on st. _hellen_'s day, being _april_ 2. there is no island in the world so far distant from the continent or main land as this. it is about sixteen leagues in compass, in the _ethiopic_ sea; in 16 degrees of south latitude; about 1500 miles from the _cape of good hope_; 360 from _angola_ in _africa_; and 510 from _brasile_ in _america_. it lies high out of the water; and surrounded on the sea-coasts with steep rocks, having within many cliffs, mountains and vallies, of which one is named _church-valley_, where behind a small church they climb up to the mountains. to the south is _apple-dale_, so called from the abundance of oranges, lemons, and pomegranates enough to furnish five or six ships. on the west-side of the church, ships have good anchorage close under the shore, to prevent the winds which blow fiercely from the adjacent high mountains. the air seems temperate and healthful, so that sick men brought ashore there, in a short time recover; yet the heat in the vallies is as intolerable as the cold upon the mountains; it commonly rains there five or six times a day, so that the barrenness of the hills is not occasioned for the want of water, of which it hath two or three good springs for furnishing ships with fresh water; the ground of its own accord brings forth wild pease and beans, also whole woods of orange, lemon, and pomegranate trees, all the year long, laden both with blossoms and fruit, good figs; abundance of ebony and rose-trees, parsly, mustard-seed, purslain, sorrel, and the like; the woods and mountains are full of goats, large rams, and wild swine, but difficult to be taken. when the _portuguese_ discovered it, they found neither four-footed beasts nor fruit-trees, but only fresh water; they afterward planted fruit-trees, which so increased since, that all the vallies stand full of them; partridges, pigeons, moor-hens, and peacocks breed here numerously, whereof a good marksman may soon provide a dinner for his friends. on the cliff-islands, on the south, are thousands of grey and black mews, or sea-pies, and white and coloured birds, some with long, others with short necks, who lay their eggs on the rocks, and suffer themselves to be taken with the hand, gazing at their surprizers, till they are knocked on the head with sticks. from the salt-water beating against the cliffs, a froth or scum remains in some places, which, the heat of the sun so purifies, that it becomes white and good salt; some of the mountains yield. bole armoniac, and a fat earth like _terra lemnia_. the sea will answer the pains of a patient fisherman, who must use an angle, not a net, because of the foul ground and beating of the waves; the chief are mackrel, roach, carp, but differing in colour from those among us; eels as big, as a man's arm, and well tasted crabs, lobsters, oysters and mussels as good as _english_. it is in this island that the scene of that notable fancy, called, _the man in the moon, or a discourse of a voyage thither_, by _domingo gonsales_ is laid, written by a learned bishop, saith the ingenious bishop wilkins, who calls it a pleasant and well contrived fancy, in his own book, intituled, _a discourse of the new world, tending to prove that it is possible there may be another habitable world in the moon_; wherein among other curious arguments he affirms, that this hath been the direct opinion of divers antient, and some modern mathematicians, and may probably be deduced from the tenets of others, neither does it contradict any principle of reason nor faith; and that as their world is our moon, so our world is theirs. now this small tract having so worthy a person to vouch for it, and many of our english historians having published for truth, what is almost as improbable as this, as sir _john mandavil_ in his travels and others, and this having what they are utterly destitute of, that is, invention mixed with judgment; and was judged worthy to be licensed fifty years ago, and not since reprinted, whereby it would be utterly lost. i have thought fit to republish the substance thereof, wherein the author says he does not design to discourse his readers into a belief of each particular circumstance, but expects that his new discovery of a _new world_, may find little better entertainment than _columbus_ had in his first discovery of _america_, though yet that poor espial betrayed so much knowledge as hath since increased to vast improvements, and the then _unknown_ is now found to be of as large extent as all the other _known world_; that there should be antipodes was once thought as great a paradox, as now that the moon should be habitable. but the knowledge of it may be reserved for this our discovering age, wherein our virtuosi can by their telescopes gaze the sun into spots, and descry mountains in the moon. but this and much more must be left to the critics, as well as the following relation of our little eye-witness and great discoverer, which you shall have in his own _spanish_ stile, and delivered with that grandeur and thirst of glory, which is generally imputed to that nation. it is known to all the countries of andaluzia, that i _domingo gonsales_ was born of a noble family in the renowned city of _seville_. my father's name being _therando gonsales_, near kinsman on the mother's side to don _pedro sanches_ the worthy count of _almanera_, my mother was the daughter of the famous lawyer _otho perez de sallaveda_, governor of _barcellona_, and _corrigidor_ of _biscay_; i being the youngest of seventeen children, was put to school, and designed to the church; but heaven purposing to use my service in matters of far another nature, inspired me with spending some time in the wars; it was at the time that don _fernando_, the renowned duke _d'alva_, was sent into the _low countries_ in 1568; i then following the current of my desire, leaving the university of _salamanca_, whither my parents had sent me, without giving notice to any of my friends, got through _france_ to _antwerp_, where i arrived in a mean condition. for having sold my books, bedding, and other things, which yielded me about 30 ducats; and borrowed twenty more of my father's friends; i bought a little nag, wherewith i travelled more thriftily than usually young gentlemen do, till arriving within a league of _antwerp_, some of the cursed _gueses_ set upon me, and bereaved me of my horse, money, and all; so i was forced through necessity to enter into the service of marshal _cossey_ a french nobleman, whom i served in an honourable employ, though mine enemies, to my disgrace affirm, i was his horse-keeper's boy; but for that matter, i refer myself to count _mansfield_, and other persons of condition, who have often testified to many worthy men, the very truth of the business, which indeed was this, monsieur _cossey_ being about this time sent to the duke _d'alva_, governor of the _low countries_, he informing the nobility of my birth, and my late misfortune, judging it would be no small honour to him to have a _spaniard_ of that quality about him, furnished me with a horse, arms and whatever i wanted, using my service, after i had learned _french_, in writing his letters, because my hand was very fair. in time of war, if upon necessity, i sometimes dressed my own horse, i ought not to be reproached therewith, since i count it the part of a gentleman to submit to the vilest office for the service of his prince. the first expedition i was in, was when the marshal my friend met the prince of _orange_ making a road into _france_, and forced him to fly even to the walls of _cambray_: it was my good fortune to defeat a trooper, by killing his horse with my pistol, who falling upon his leg, could not stir, but yielded to my mercy; i knowing my own weakness of body, and seeing him a lusty tall fellow, thought it the surest way to dispatch him, which having done, i plundered him of a chain, money, and other things to the value of 200 ducats. this money was no sooner in my pockets, but i resumed the remembrance of my nobility, and taking my audience of leave from monsieur _cossey_, i instantly repaired to the duke _d'alva_'s court, where divers of my kindred seeing my pocket full of good crowns, were ready enough to acknowledge me: by their means i was received into pay, and in time obtained favour with the duke, who would sometimes jest a little more severely at my personage than i could well bear, for though i must acknowledge my stature is so little, as i think no man living is less, yet since it is the work of heaven and not my own, he ought not to have upbraided a gentleman therewith, and those glorious things that have happened to me may evince, that wonderful matters may be performed by very unlikely bodies, if the mind be good, and fortune second our endeavours. though the duke's jokes a little disgusted me, yet i endeavoured to conceal my resentment, and accommodating myself to some other of his humours, i was so far interested in his favour, that at his going into _spain_, whither i attended him, by his kindness, and other accidents, wherein by my industry i was seldom wanting to myself, i was able to carry home 3000 crowns in my pocket. at my return, my parents, who were extremely disturbed at my departure, received me with joy, which was increased because they found i had brought wherewith to maintain myself without being chargeable to them, or lessening the portions of my brothers and sisters. but doubting i would spend it as lightly as i got it, they sollicited me to marry the daughter of _john figueres_, a considerable merchant of _lisbon_, to which i complied, and putting my marriage money, and good part of my own into the hands of my father, i lived like a gentleman many years very happily: at length a quarrel arising between me and _pedro delgades_, a gentleman and kinsman of mine; it grew so high, that when no mediation of friends could prevail, we two went alone with our swords into the field, where it was my chance to kill him, tho' a stout proper man; but what i wanted in strength i supplied in courage, and my agility countervailed for his stature. this being acted in carmona, i fled to _lisbon_, thinking to conceal myself with some friends of my father-in-law, till the business might be accommodated; at which time, a famous _spanish_ count coming from the _west-indies_, published triumphant declarations of a great victory he had obtained against the _english_ near the _isle of pines_, whereas in reality he got nothing at all in that voyage but blows, and a considerable loss. it had been well if vanity and lying had been his only crimes; his covetousness had like to have been my utter ruin, though since it hath proved the occasion of eternizing my name i verily believe to all posterity, and to the unspeakable benefit of all mortals for ever hereafter, at least if it please heaven that i return home safe to my country, and give perfect instructions how those almost incredible and impossible acquirements may be imparted to the world. you shall then see men flying in the air, from one place to another, you shall then be able to send messages many hundred miles in an instant, and receive answers immediately, without the help of any creature upon earth; you shall then presently impart your mind to your friend, though in the most remote and obscure place of a populous city, and a multitude of other notable experiments; but what exceeds all, you shall then have the discovery of a _new world_, and abundance of rare and incredible secrets of nature, which the philosophers of former ages never so much as dreamt of; but i must be cautious in publishing these wonderful mysteries, till our statesmen have considered how they may consist with the policy and good government of our country, and whether the fathers of the church may not judge the divulging them prejudicial to the catholic faith, which (by those wonders i have seen above any mortal man before me) i am instructed to advance without respect to any temporal advantage whatsoever. but to proceed: this huffing captain pretended much discontent for the death of _delgades_, who was indeed some kin to him; however, he was willing to be quiet if i would give him a thousand ducats: i had now, besides a wife, two sons, whom i was not willing to beggar, only to satisfy the avaricious humour of this boaster, and so was necessitated to take some other course. i embarked in a stout carrick bound for the _east-indies_, carrying the value of two thousand ducats to trade with, leaving as much more for the support of my wife and children behind, whatever misfortune might happen to me. in the _indies_ i thrived exceedingly, laying out my stock in diamonds, emeralds, and pearls, which i bought at such easy rates, that my stock safely arriving in _spain_, (as i understood it did) must needs yield ten for one. but having doubled _cape bona esperanza_ in my way home, i fell dangerously sick, expediting nothing but death, which had undoubtedly happened, but that we just then recovered the blessed isle of st. _hellens_, the only paradise i believe on earth, for healthfulness of air, and fruitfulness of soil, producing all necessaries for the life of man. it is about 16 leagues in compass, and has no firm land or continent within 300 leagues, nay not so much as an island within an hundred leagues of it, so that it may seem a miracle of nature, that out of so vast and tempestuous an ocean, such a small rock or piece of ground should arise and discover itself. on the south is a good harbour, and near it divers small houses built by the _portuguese_ to accommodate strangers, with a pretty chapel handsomely beautified with a tower, and bell therein. near it is a stream of excellent fresh water, divers handsome walks, planted on both sides with orange, lemon, pomegranate, almond-trees and the like, which bear fruit all the year, as do also divers others. there are store of garden herbs, with wheat, pease, barley, and most kinds of pulse; but it chiefly aboundeth with cattle and fowl, as goats, swine, sheep, partridges, wild hens, pheasants, pigeons, and wild fowl beyond credit; but especially about _february_ and _march_ are to be seen huge flocks of a kind of wild swans, (whereof i shall have occasion to speak more hereafter) who like our cuckows and nightingales, go away at a certain season, and are no more seen that year. on this happy island did they set me ashore with a negro to attend me, where i recovered my health, and continued a whole year, solacing myself for want of human society with birds and brute beasts; _diego_ my black moor was forced to live in a cave at the west end of the isle, for had we dwelt together, victuals would not have been so plenty with us; but now, if one succeeded well in hunting or fowling, the other would find means to treat him, and if both missed, we were fain to look out sharply; but this seldom happened, since no creature there fears a man more than a goat or cow, whereby i easily tamed divers kinds of birds and beasts by only muzzling them, so that till they came either to me or _diego_ they could not feed. at first i much delighted in a kind of partridges, and a tame fox, whereof i made good use for if i had occasion to confer with _diego_, i would take one of them muzzled and hungry, and tying a note about his neck, beat him from me, whereupon he would strait away to _diego_'s cave, and if he were not there, would beat about till he found him, yet this conveyance being not without some inconvenience, i persuaded _diego_, (who tho' a fellow of good parts, was content to be ruled by me) to remove to a cape on the north-west part of the island, being though a league off, yet within sight of my house and chapel, and so when the weather was fair, we could by signals declare our minds to each other in an instant either by night or day, wherein we took much pleasure. if in the night i would signify any thing to him, i set up a light in the bell tower, which was a pretty large-room with a fair window well glazed, and the walls within plaistered white, so that though the light were but small, it made a great show; after this light had stood half an hour, i covered it, and then if i saw any signal of light again from my companion i knew he waited for my notice, and so by hiding and shewing my light according to the agreement betwixt us, i certified him of what i pleased. in the day i advertised him by smoke, dust, and other refined ways. after a while i grew weary of it as too painful, and again used my winged messengers, upon the shore, about the mouth of our river, i found store of a kind of wild swans feeding upon prey, both of fish and birds, and which is more strange; having one claw like an eagle, and the other like a swan. these birds breeding here in infinite numbers, i took thirty or forty of them young, and bred them up by hand for recreation; yet not without some thoughts of that experiment which i after put in practice. these being strong and able to continue a great flight, i taught them first to come at call afar off, not using any noise, but only shewing them a white cloth; and here i found it true what plutarch affirms, that creatures which eat flesh are more docible than others. 'tis wonderful to think what tricks i taught them ere they were a quarter old, amongst others i used them by degrees to fly with burdens, wherein i found them able beyond belief, and a white sheet being displayed to them by _diego_, upon the side of a hill, they would carry from me to him bread, flesh, or whatever i pleased, and upon the like calf come to me again. having proceeded thus far, i consulted how to join a number of them together, so as to carry a heavier weight, which if i could compass, i might enable a man to be carried safely in the air from one place to another. i puzzled my wits extremely with this thought, and upon trial found, that if many were put to the bearing of one great burthen, by reason it was impossible all of them, should rise together just at one instant, the first that rise finding himself stayed by a weight heavier than he could stir, would soon give over, and so the second, third, and all the rest. i contrived at last a way whereby each might rise with only his own proportion of weight, i fastened about each _gansa_ a little pulley of cork, and putting a string of a just length through it, i fastened one end to a block of almost eight pounds weight, and tied a two pound weight to the other end of the string, and then causing the signal to be erected, they all arose together, being four in number, and carried away my block to the place appointed. this hitting so luckily, i added two or three birds more, and made trial of their carrying a lamb, whose happiness i much envied, that he should be the first living creature to partake of such an excellent device. at length after divers trials, i was surprized with a great longing to cause myself to be carried in the same manner, _diego_ my moor was likewise possessed with the same desire, and had i not loved him well, and wanted his service, i should have resented his ambitious thought; for i count it greater honour to have been the first _flying man_, than to be another _neptune_ who first adventured to sail on the sea. yet seeming not to understand his intention, i only told him, that all my _gansas_ were not strong enough to carry him, being a man though of no great bulk, yet twice heavier than myself. having prepared all necessaries, i one time placed myself and, all my utensils on the top of a rock at the river's mouth, and putting myself upon my engine at full sea, i caused _diego_ to advance the signal, whereupon my birds, twenty-five in number, rose all at once, and carried me over lustily to the rock on the other side, being about a quarter of a league, i chose this time and place, because if any thing had, fallen out contrary to expectation, the worst that could happen was only falling into the water; and being able to swim well, i hoped to receive little hurt in my fall. when i was once safe over, o how did my heart even swell with joy and admiration at my own invention; how often, did i with myself in the midst of _spain_, that i might fill the world with the fame of my glory and renown? every hour i had a longing desire for the coming of the _indian_ fleet to take me home with them, which then staid three months beyond their usual time: at length they arrived, being three carricks much weather-beaten, the men sick and weak, and so were constrained to refresh themselves in our island a whole month. the admiral was called _alphonso de xima_, a valiant, wise man, desirous of glory, and worthy better fortune than afterwards befel him; to him i discovered my device of the gansas; being satisfied, that it was impossible otherwise to persuade him to take many birds into his ship, who for the niceness of their provision would be more troublesome than so many men; yet i adjured him by oaths and persuasions to be secret in the business, though i did not much doubt it, alluring myself he durst not impart the experiment, to any before our king were acquainted therewith. i had more apprehension left ambition, and the desire of gaining to himself the honour of so admirable an invention, should tempt, him to dispatch me. however i was forced to run the risque unless i would adventure the loss of my birds, the like whereof for my purpose were not to be had in christendom, nor was i sure ever to bring up others to serve my turn. it happened all these doubts were causeless, the man i believe was honest, but the misfortune we met with prevented all these thoughts. thursday, _june_ 21, 1599, we set sail for _spain_, i having allowed me a convenient cabin for my birds, and engine, which the captain would have persuaded me to have left behind, and it was a wonder i did not, but my good fortune saved my life, for after two months sail we met with an _english_ fleet about 10 leagues from the island of _teneriff_, one of the _canaries_, famous for a hill therein called _pico_, which is seen at sea above an hundred leagues off. we had aboard five times their number of men, all in health, and were well provided with ammunition; yet finding them resolved to fight, and knowing what infinite riches we carried, concluded it better if possible to escape, than by encountering a crew of desperate fellows, to hazard not only our lives, which a man of courage does not value, but the estates of many poor merchants, who i am afraid were undone by the miscarriage of this business. our fleet consisted of five sail, that is, three carricks, a bark, and a caravel, who coming from st. _thomas isle_, had in an ill hour overtaken us some days before. the _english_ had three ships well provided, who no sooner spied but presently engaged us, and changing their course, endeavoured to bring us under their lee, which they might easily do as the wind then flood, they being light nimble vessels, as _english_ ship's generally are; ours heavy, deep laden, and foul with the sea; so our captain resolved, wisely enough it may be, not neither valiantly nor fortunately, to fly, commanding us to disperse ourselves. the caravel by too much haste fell upon one of the carricks and bruised her so, that one of the _english_ easily fetched her up and entered her, the caravel sinking before our eyes. the bark escaped unpursued, and another, of our carricks after some chase was given over by the enemy, who expecting a sufficient booty of us, and getting us between them, fell upon us with much fury; our captain hereupon gave direction to run ashore upon _teneriff_, the port whereof we could not recover, saying, "that he hoped to save part of the goods, and some of our lives, and he had rather the rest should be lost, than all fall into the mercy of our foes." when i heard this resolution, observing the sea to work high, and knowing all the coast to be so full of rocks and shoals, that it was impossible our ship should come near the land, unless broken into a thousand pieces, i represented to the captain the desperateness of the attempt, wishing him rather to try the kindness of the enemy, than throw away himself and so many brave men; but he would by no remonstrances be removed from his resolution, therefore finding it high time to shift for myself, i locked up my little casket of jewels, which putting into my sleeve, i then betook me to my _gansas_, and having harnessed them to my engine, and put myself thereon, supposing, as indeed it happened, that when the ship should split, my birds, though they wanted their signal, yet for saving their own lives, which nature hath taught all creatures to preserve, would make toward land, which fell out according to my expectation; the people in the ship wondered what i was doing, none being acquainted with the use of my birds but the captain, _diego_ being in the other ship which fled away unpursued; we were about half a league from land, when our carrick struck upon a rock, and split to pieces, upon which i let loose the reins to my birds, having first placed myself upon the top of the deck, and with the shock they all arose carrying me fortunately to the land; of which you need not doubt but i was very joyful, though it was a miserable sight to behold my friends and acquaintance in that woful distress, of whom yet many escaped better than they expected, for the _english_ launching out their cock-boats, discovered more generous tempers than we are pleased to allow them, taking compassion of their calamity, and endeavouring with all diligence to save them from the fury of the waves, though with much danger to themselves, among others they took up our captain, who, as father _pacio_ since told me, having put himself with twelve others into the cock-boat, was forced to yield to one captain _raymund_, who carried him and our pilot along with them in their voyage to the _east-indies_, whither they were bound, but it was their hard fate, by a breach of the sea near cape _buona esperanca_, to be swallowed of the merciless waves, whole rage they awhile before had so hardly escaped; the rest as i likewise heard, who were about twenty six persons they took into their ship, and set them on land at _cape verde_. as for myself, being now ashore in an island inhabited by _spaniards_, i reckoned i was safe, but found myself mistaken, for it was my hap to pitch upon that part of the isle where the _pike_ begins to rise, which is inhabited by a savage people who live upon the sides of that hill, the top whereof is for the most part covered with snow, and formerly accounted, for its steepness, inaccessible, either for man or beast, yet these savages fearing the _spaniards_ keep as near the top as they can, never coming down into the fruitful vallies but to seek for booty; a crew of these outlaws happened to spy me soon after i landed, and thinking they had got a prize, approached me with all speed; i guess their design before they came within half a mile, when perceiving them come down the hill directly toward me, with long staves and other weapons, i thought it necessary to secure myself from these villains, who out of hatred to us _spaniards_ would have cut me to pieces; the country was sandy, but the _pike_ beginning to lift up itself, i espied in the side a white cliff, which i hoped my _ganzas_ would take for a mark, and being put up, would make all that way, whereby i might be carried so far, that those barbarous rascals should not overtake me, before i got to some _spaniard_'s house, or hid myself, till by the covert of the night i might travel to _laguna_, the chief city of the island, three miles off. so i settled myself upon my engine, and let loose the reins to my _gansas_, who by good fortune took all one course, tho' not just the way i aimed at. but what of that! o reader prick up thy ears, and prepare thyself to hear the strangest chance that ever happened to any mortal, and which i know thou wilt not have the grace to believe till thou seest the like experiment, which i doubt not in a short time may be performed. my _gansas_, like so many horses that had gotten the bit between their teeth, made not their flight toward the cliff i intended, though i used my wonted means to direct the leader the flock that way, but with might and main took up toward the top of the _pike_, and never stopt till they came there, a place in vulgar estimation (though since experimentally contradicted) fifteen miles in height. what kind of place this was i would gladly relate, but that i hasten to matters of greater importance: when i was set down there, my poor _gansas_ fell to panting, blowing, and gaping for breath as if they would all have died, so i did not trouble them awhile, forbearing to draw them in, which they never used to endure without struggling, but little did i expect what followed. it was now the season that these birds take their flight away, as our cuckows and swallows do in _spain_ towards _autumn_, and as i afterwards found, being mindful of their usual voyage, just when i began to settle myself to take them in, they with one consent rose up, and having no other higher place to make toward, to my unspeakable fear and amazement, struck bolt upright, and never left towring upward, still higher and higher, for the space, as i guest, of an hour, after which i thought they laboured less than before, till at length, ah wonderful! they remained immoveable, as steadily as if they had sat upon so many perches; the lines slacked, neither i, nor the engine moved at all, but continued still, as having no manner of weight. i found then by experience, what no philosopher ever dreamt of, namely, that those things we call heavy do not fall towards the center of the earth as their natural place, but are drawn by a secret property of the globe of the earth, or rather something within it, as the load-stone draweth iron, which is within the compass of its attractive beams. for though my gansas could continue unmoved, without being sustained by any thing but the air, as easily and quietly as a fish in the water, yet if they forced themselves never so little, it is impossible to imagine with what swiftness they were carried, either upward, downward, or sideways; i must ingenuously confess my horror and amazement in this place was such, that had i not been armed with a true _spanish_ resolution, i should certainly have died for fear. the next thing that disturbed me was the swiftness of the motion, which was so extraordinary, that it almost stopt my breath, if i should liken it to an arrow out of a bow, or a stone thrown down from the top of an high tower, it would come vastly short of it; another thing was exceeding troublesome to me, that is the illusions of devils and wicked spirits, who the first day of my arrival came about me in great numbers in the likeness of men and women, wondering at me like so many birds about an owl, and speaking several languages which i understood not, till at last i met with some that spoke good _spanish_, some _dutch_, and others _italian_, all which i understood and here i had only a touch of the sun's absence once for a short time, having him ever after in my sight. now though my _gansas_ were entangled in my lines, yet they easily seized upon divers kinds of flies and birds, especially swallows and cuckows, whereof there were multitudes, even like motes in the sun, though i never saw them eat any thing at all. i was much obliged to those, whether men or devils i know not, who among divers discourses told me, "if i would follow their directions, i should not only be carried, safe home, but be assured to command at all, times all the pleasures of that place." to which motion, not daring to give a flat denial, i desired time to consider, and withal indebted them, (though i felt no hunger at all, which may seem strange) to help me to some victuals, lead i should starve in my journey so they readily brought me very good flesh and fish of several sorts, and well dressed, but that it was extreme fresh without any relish of salt. wines likewise i tasted of divers kinds as good as any in spain and beer no better in all _antwerp_. they advised me, that while i had opportunity i should make my provisions, telling me, that till the next _thursday_ they could help me to no more, at which time they would find means to carry me back, and set me safe in _spain_, in any place i would desire, provided i would become one of their fraternity, and enter into such covenants as they had made to their captain and master, whom they would not name: i answered civily, "i saw little reason to rejoice in such an offer, desiring them to be mindful of me as occasion served;" so for that time i was rid of them having first furnished my pockets with as much victuals as i could thrust in, among which i would be sure to find a place for a small bottle of good canary. i shall now declare the quality of the place wherein i was: the clouds i perceived to be all under between me and the earth. the stars, because it was always day, i saw at all times alike, not shining bright, as we see in the night upon earth, but of a whitish colour, like the moon with us in the day-time, those that were seen, which were not many, shewed far greater than with us, yea, as i guessed no less than ten times bigger: as for the moon, being then within two days of the change, she appeared of an huge and dreadful greatness. it is not to be forgot, that no stars appeared but on that part of the hemisphere next the moon, and the nearer to her, the larger they appeared again; whether i lay quiet and rested, or were carried in the air, i perceived myself to be always directly between the moon and the earth, whereby 'tis plain, that my _gansas_ took their way directly toward the moon, and that when we rested, as we did at first for many hours, either we were insensibly carried round about the globe of the earth, though i perceived no such motion, or else that, according to the opinion of _copernicus_, the earth is carried about, and turneth round perpetually, from west to east, leaving to the planets only that motion which the astronomers call natural, and is not upon the poles of the equinoctial, commonly called the poles of the world, but upon those of the zodiac; the air in that place i found without any wind, and exceeding temperate, neither hot nor cold, where neither the sun beams had any object to reflect upon, nor the earth and water appear to affect the air with their natural quality of coldness; as for the philosophers attributing heat and moisture to the air, i always esteem'ed it a fancy: lastly, i remember that after my departure from the earth, i never felt either hunger or thirst, whether the purity of the air, freed from the vapours of the earth and water, might yield nature sufficient nourishment, or what else might be the cause i cannot determine, but so i found it, though i was perfectly in health both of body and mind, even above my usual vigour. some hours after the departure of that devilish company, my _gansas_ began to bestir themselves, still directing their course toward the globe or body of the moon, making their way with such incredible swiftness, that i conceive they advanced little less than fifty leagues in an hour, in which passage i observed three things very remarkable, one that the farther we went the less the globe of the earth appeared to us, and that of the moon still larger: again the earth, which i had ever in mine eye, seemed to mask itself with a kind of brightness like another moon, and as we discern certain spots or clouds as it were in the moon, so did i then see the like in the earth; but whereas the form of these spots in the moon are always the same, these on the earth seemed by degrees to change every hour; the reason whereof seems to be, that whereas the earth according to his natural motion (for such a motion i am now satisfied (he hath according to the opinion of _copernicus_) turns round upon her own axis every four and twenty hours from west to east) i should at first see in the middle of the body of this new star the earth, a spot like a pear, with a morsel bit out on one side, in some hours i should observe this spot move away toward the east: this no doubt was the main land of _africa_; then might i perceive a great shining brightness in that place which continued about the same time, and was questionless the vast _atlantick_ ocean: after this succeeded a spot almost oval, just as we see _america_ described in our maps, then another immense clearness, representing _mare del zar_ or the _south sea_; lastly, a number of spots like the countries and lands in the _east-indies_, so that it seemed to me no other than an huge mathematical globe turned round leisurely before me, wherein successively all the countries of our earthly world were within twenty-four hours represented to my view, and this was all the means i now had to number the days, and reckon the time. i could now wish that philosophers and mathematicians would confess their own blindness, who have hitherto made the world believe that the earth hath no motion, and to confirm it, are forced to attribute to every one of the celestial bodies two motions directly contrary to each other, one from the east to the west, to be performed in twenty-four hours with an impetuous rapid motion; the other from west to east in several proportions: o incredible supposition! that those huge bodies of the fixed stairs in the highest orb, whereof they confess divers, are above an hundred times bigger than the whole earth, should like so many nails in a cart-wheel be whirled about in so short a time; whereas it is many thousand years, no less (say they) than thirty thousand, before that orb finishes his course from west to east, which they call his natural motion; now whereas they allow their natural course from west to east to every one of them, therein they do well; the moon performs it in seven and twenty days, the _sun, venus_ and _mercury_ in a year or thereabout, _mars_ in three years, _jupiter_ in twelve, and _saturn_ in thirty. but to attribute to these celestial bodies contrary motions at once, is an absurd conceit, and much more to imagine, that the same orb wherein the fixed stars are, whose natural, course takes up so many thousands of years, should be turned about every twenty-four hours. i will not go so far as _copernicus_, who makes, the sun the center of the earth and immoveable, neither will i be positive in any thing, only this i say, allow the earth its motion, which these eyes of mine can testify to be true, and all those absurdities are removed, every one having only his own single and proper motion. but where am i? i promised an history, and am unawares turned disputer. one accident more befell me worth mentioning, that during my stay i saw a kind of a reddish cloud coming toward me, and continually approaching nearer, which at last i perceived was nothing but a huge swarm of locusts. he that reads the discourses of learned men concerning them, as _john leo_ of _africa_, and others who relate that they are seen in the air several days before they fall on the earth, and adds thereto this experience of mine, will easily conclude, that they can come from no other place than the globe of the moon. but now give me leave to go on quietly in my journey for eleven or twelve days, during all which time i was carried directly toward the globe or body of the moon, with such a violent whirling as is inexpressible, for i cannot imagine a bullet out of a cannon could make way through the vaporous and muddy air near the earth with half that celerity; which is the more strange, since my _gansas_ moved their wings but now and then, and sometimes for a quarter of an hour not at all, only holding them stretched out, as we see kites, and eagles sometimes do for a short space, during which pauses, i suppose they took their naps, and times of sleeping, for other times i could perceive they never had any; for myself i was so fastened to mine engine, that i durst slumber enough to serve my turn, which i took with as great ease, as if i had lain on the best down-bed in _spain_. after eleven days passage in this violent flight, i perceived we began to approach to another earth (if i may so call it) being the globe or very body of that star which we call the moon. the first difference i found between this and our earth was, that it appeared in its natural colours, as soon as ever i was free from the attraction of the earth; whereas with us, a thing a league or two from us, puts on that deadly colour of blue. i then perceived also that this world was the greatest part covered with a huge mighty sea, those parts only being dry land which, are to us somewhat darker than the rest of her body, i mean, what the country people call, _the man in the moon_, and that part which shines so bright is another ocean besprinkled with islands, which for their smallness we cannot discern so far off; so that the splendor which appears to us in the night, is nothing but the reflection of the sun-beams returned to us out of the water as from a lookin'glass. how much this disagrees with what our philosophers teach in the schools is evident: but alas, how many of their errors hath time and experience in this our age, and among other vain conjectures, who hath not hitherto believed the upper region of the air to be very hot; as being next, forsooth, to the natural place of the element of fire; meer vanities, fancies and dreams: for after i was once free from the attractive beams of that tyrannous load-stone the earth, i found the air altogether serene, without winds, rain, mists or clouds, neither hot nor cold, but constantly pleasant, calm and comfortable, till my arrival in that _new world of the moon_ as for that region of fire, our philosophers talk of, i heard no news of it, mine eyes have sufficiently informed me there is no such thing. the earth had now by turning about shewed me all her parts twelve times, when i finished my course; for when my reckoning it seemed to be (as indeed it was) _tuesday, september_ 11, (at which time the moon being two days old was in the twentieth degree of _libra_) my _gansas_ seemed by one consent to stay their course, and rested for certain hours, after which they took their flight, and in less than an hour set me on the top of an high hill in that _other world_, where many wonderful things were presented to my sight. for i observed first, that though the globe of the earth appeared much greater there than the moon doth to us, even three times bigger, yet all things there were ten, twenty, yea thirty times larger than ours; their trees were thrice as high, and above five times, broader and thicker; so were their herbs, birds, and beasts, though i cannot well compare them to ours, because i found not any kind of beast or bird there which any way resembled ours, except swallows, nightingales, cuckoos, woodcocks, batts, and some kind of wild fowl: and likewise such birds as my _gansas_, all which, as i now perceived, spend their time in their absence from us, in that world, neither do they differ in any thing from ours, but are the very same kind. no sooner was i upon the ground, but i found myself extreme hungry; stepping then to the next tree, i fastened my engine and _ganzas_ thereto, and in great haste fell to examining my pockets for the victuals i had reserved there; but to my great surprize and vexation, instead of partridges and capons, which i thought i had hoarded there, i found nothing but a medley of dry leaves, goats hair, sheep or goats dung, moss, and the like; my canary-wine was turned, and stunk like horse-piss: o the villainy and cheats of these cursed spirits, whose assistance if i had depended on, in what a condition had i been! while i stood musing at this strange metamorphosis, on a sudden i heard my _gansas_ fluttering behind me, and looking back, i spied them falling greedily upon a shrub within the reach of their lines, whose leaves they fed earnestly upon, whereas before i had never seen them eat any green thing whatever; so stepping to the shrub; i put a leaf to my mouth; the taste was so excellent; that i cannot express it, and if i had not with discretion moderated my appetite, i should have forfeited thereon; yet it happened, to be a good bait both for me and my birds, when we had most need of refreshment. scarce had we ended our banquet, when i saw myself surrounded with a strange kind of people both in feature, manners, and apparel; their stature was very different, but they were generally twice as high as ours; their shape and countenance pleasant, and their habit hardly to be described; for i never saw either cloth, silk, nor other stuff, like that whereof their cloths were made; neither can i possibly relate their colour, they being in a manner all cloathed alike; it was neither black, white, yellow, red nor blue, nor any colour composed of these: if you ask what was it then? i must tell you, it was a colour never seen in our earthly world, and so neither to be described nor conceived by us; for as it is hard to make a man born blind understand the difference between green and blue, so neither can i decypher this moon-colour, as having no affinity with any i ever beheld; i can only say it was the most glorious and delightful that can be imagined, neither was any thing more pleasant to me during my stay there. being surprized at the appearance of these people so suddenly and in such accoutrements, i crossed myself, and cried out, _jesu maria_: no sooner was the word _jesu_ pronounced, but young and old fell all on their knees (whereat i not a little rejoiced) holding up their hands on high, and repeating certain words which i understood not; and relently rising again, one much taller than the rest came and kindly embraced me, and ordering, as i perceived, some of the rest to attend my birds, he took me by the hand, and led me to his dwelling, down toward the foot of the hill, which was a building so great and beautiful, as nothing in our world is comparable thereto; yet afterward i saw such as this seemed but a cottage in respect of them, there was no door about the house less than thirty foot high, and twelve broad, the rooms were forty or fifty foot in height, and answerable in proportion neither could they be much less, the master thereof being full twenty-eight high, and i suppose his body would weigh twenty-five or thirty of ours: after i had rested with him about one of our days, he led me five leagues off to the palace of the prince of the country, the stateliness whereof i have not now leisure to describe; this prince was much taller than the former, and called (as near as i can by letters declare it, for their sounds are not perfectly to be expressed by our characters) _pylonas_, which in their language is _first_ or _chief_, if it doth not rather denote his authority and dignity, as being the principal man in all those parts; though yet there is one supreme monarch amongst them, much greater of stature than he, commanding over all that whole world, having under him twenty-nine other princes of great power; and every one of these has twenty-four inferior governors, whereof this _pylonas_ was one. the first ancestor of this great monarch came out of the earth, as they relate, and by marrying the heiress of that vast monarchy obtaining the government, left it to his posterity, who have enjoyed it ever since, even forty thousand moons, which is 3077 years: his name was _irdonozur_, whose heirs to this day assume the same name; he, they say, having continued there about four hundred moons, and begot divers children, returned (though by what means they know not) to the earth again. i doubt they have their fables as well as we, since our historians never mention any earthly man to have been in that world before myself, and much less to have returned again. i cannot therefore but condemn this tradition as false and romantick, though i found learning was in great esteem among them, and they seem to detest lying and falshood, which is there severely punished, and which may yield some credit to their historical narrations. many of them live wonderful long, even beyond belief, affirming to me, that some survived thirty thousand moons, which is above a thousand years, so that the ages of three or four men might easily reach to the time of the first _irdonozur_, and this is generally noted, that the taller people are of stature, the more excellent are their endowments of mind, and the longer time they live; for their stature is very different, great numbers not much exceeding ours, who seldom live above a thousand moons, which is fourscore of our years; these they account base, unworthy creatures, but one degree above brute beasts, and employ in mean and servile offices, calling them bastards, counterfeits or changlings: those whom they account true _natural lunars or moon men_, exceed ours generally thirty times, both in quantity of body, and length of life, proportionable to the quality of the day in both worlds, theirs containing almost thirty of our days. the manner of our travel to the palace of _pylonas_ was more strange and incredible than any thing we have related, for at our first setting forth there were delivered to each of us two feather fans, like those our ladies in _spain_ cool themselves with in summer: you must understand, that the globe of the moon has likewise an attractive power, yet so much weaker than the earth, that if a man do but spring upward with all his strength, as dancers do in shewing their tricks, he will be able to mount fifty or sixty foot high; and being then above all attraction from the moon's earth, he falls down no more, but by the help of these fans, as with wings, they convey themselves in the air in a short space, (though not quite so swift as birds) whither they please. in two hours time (as i could guess) by the help of these fans, we were carried through the air those five leagues, in all about sixty persons. being arrived at the palace of _pylonas_, after our conductor had declared what manner of present he had brought, i was called in to him by his attendants: by the stateliness of his palace, and the reverence done him, i soon perceived his greatness, and managed my affairs in order to procure his favour accordingly; and having, as you may remember, a certain little box or casket of jewels, the remainder of those i brought from the _east-indies_, before i was introduced i secretly took them out of my pocket, and chusing some of each sort, i made them ready to be presented as i should think convenient. i found him sitting in a magnificent chair of state, with his wife or queen on one hand, and his eldest son on the other, one attended by a troop of ladies, and the other of young men, and all along the side of the room stood a great number of handsome personages, whereof scarce one was lower of stature than _pylonas_, whose age they report is now one and twenty thousand moons. at my entrance i fell on my knees, and taking out my jewels, i presented to the king seven stones of several sorts, a diamond, a ruby, an emerald, a saphire, a topaz and an opal, which he accepted with joy and admiration. then i offered the queen and prince some others, and designed to have bestowed divers more upon his attendants; but _pylonas_ forbid them to accept any, supposing, as i heard, they were all i had, which he would have me reserve for _irdonozur_ his sovereign: he then embraced me with much endearedness, and enquired divers things by signs, which i answered in the same manner to the best of my skill; which not contenting him, he delivered me to the guard of 100 of his giants as i may well call them, strictly charging them, that i should want nothing fit for me; that they should suffer none of the _dwarf lunars_, or _little moon men_, to come near me. that i should be instructed in their language, and lastly, that they should by no means impart to me the knowledge of several things by him specified, what they were i could never understand. it may be you long to know what _pylonas_ enquired of me: why, what should it be but, whence i came, how i arrived there what was my name and business, with the like; to all which i answered as near the truth as possible. being dismist, i was provided with all necessaries as my heart could wish, so that i seemed to be in a paradise, the pleasures whereof did not yet so transport me, but i was much concerned with the thoughts of my wife and children, and still retaining some hope that i might again return to them; i tended my _gansas_ daily with much care, which yet had signified little, if other men had not done more than i could: for now the time came when of necessity all people of our stature, and myself like wise, must needs sleep thirteen or fourteen whole days together; for by a secret and irresistible decree of nature, when the day begins to appear, and the moon to be enlightened by the sun beams, which is in the first quarter of the moon, all people of our stature inhabiting these parts fall into a dead sleep, and are not possibly to be awakened till the sun set, and is withdrawn; for as owls and bats with us cannot endure the light, so at the first approach of day we begin to be amazed therewith, and fall into a slumber, which grows by degrees into a dead sleep till the light be gone, which is in fourteen or fifteen days, that is till the last quarter. during the sun's absence, there is a twofold light, one of the sun, which i could not endure to behold, and another of the earth: now that of the earth was at the height, for when the moon is at the change, then is the earth a full moon to them, and as the moon increaseth with us, so the light of the earth decreaseth with them. i found the light, though the sun was absent, equal to that with us in the day when the sun is clouded; but toward the quarter it daily diminisheth, yet leaving still a competent light, which seems very strange; though not so remarkable as what they there report, that in the other hemisphere of the moon, contrary to that i fell upon, where during half the moon they see not the sun, and the earth never appears to them, they have yet a kind of light, not unlike our moon-light, which it seems the nearness of the stars, and other planets that are at a far less distance than from us, affords them. you must understand, that of the _true lunars_ or _moon men_ there are three kinds, some a little taller than we, as perhaps ten or twelve foot high, these can endure the day of the moon, when the earth shines but little, but not the beams of both, and so then must be laid asleep: others are twenty foot high or above, who can suffer all the light both of the earth and sun. there are in a certain island (the mysteries whereof are carefully concealed) men whose stature is at least twenty-seven foot high: if any other come to land there in the moon's day time, they instantly fall asleep: this is called _insula martini_, and hath a particular governor, who as they report is sixty-five thousand moons old, which makes five thousand of our years; his name is said to be _hiruch_, and he in a manner commands _irdonozur_ himself, especially in that island out of which he never removes: there is another comes often thither, who they say is not above half his age, that is about thirty-three thousand moons, or two thousand six hundred of our years, and he orders all things through the globe of the moon in matters of religion, as absolutely as the pope doth in any part of _italy_; i would fain have seen this man, but was not permitted to come near him, his name is _imozes_. now let me settle myself to a long night's sleep, to which end my attendants take charge of my birds, prepare my lodging, and signify to me by signs how i must order myself. it was then about the middle of _september_, when i perceived the air more clear than ordinary, and with the increase of the light i began to feel myself first dull and then heavy to sleep, though i had not been lately disturbed of my rest: at length i delivered myself into the custody of this sister of death, whose prisoner i was for almost a fortnight after, and then awaking, it is not to be believed how brisk and vigorous i found the faculties both of my body and mind; i then applied myself to learning the language, which is the same throughout all the regions of the moon, yet not so wonderful, since i believe all the earth of the moon does not amount to the fortieth part of our inhabited earth, partly because the globe of the moon is far less, and besides the sea or ocean covers very nigh three parts of four, whereas, the land and sea in our world may be judged of an equal measure. their language is very difficult, since it hath no affinity with any other i ever heard, and consists not so much of words and letters, as tunes and strange sounds which no letters can express, for there are few words but signify several things, and are distinguished only by their sounds, which are sung as it were in uttering; yea many words consist of tunes only, without words: by occasion whereof i find a language may be framed, and easily learned, as copious as any other in the world only of tunes, which is an experiment worth searching after: notwithstanding these difficulties, within two months i attained to such knowledge therein, that i understood most questions demanded of me, and with signs and words made reasonable shift to utter my mind; which _pylonas_ having notice of, he oft-times sent for me, and was pleased to inform me of many things my guardians durst not disclose, though i must needs say i never found they abused me with an untruth, but if i asked a question they were unwilling to resolve, they would shake their heads, and with a _spanish_ shrug divert to some other discourse. after seven months time the great _irdonozur_, making his progress to a place about two hundred leagues from the palace of _pylonas_, sent for me, yet would not admit me into his presence, but discoursed me through a window, where i might hear him, and he hear and see me at pleasure. i presented him the remainder of my jewels, which he thankfully accepted, saying, he would requite them with gifts of a far more considerable value. i stayed there above a quarter of a moon, when i was again sent back to _pylonas_, for if we had stayed a day or two longer the sun would have overtaken us before we could have recovered our home. the gifts he bestowed on me were such, that a man would part with mountains of gold to purchase; they were all stones, nine only in number, of three sorts, one called _poleastis_, another _machrus_, and the third _ebelus_, of each sort three; the first are about the bigness of an hazle-nut, very like jet, which among many other incredible virtues hath this property, that being once put in the fire they ever after retain their heat, though without any outward appearance, till quenched with some kind of liquor, which no way endamages them, though heated and cooled therein a thousand times; their heat is so vehement, that it will make any metal within a foot of it red hot, and being in a chimney warms the room as if a great fire were kindled therein. the _machrus_ is yet more precious, in colour like a _topaz_, so clear and resplendent, as though not above the bigness of a bean, yet being placed in the night in the midst of a large church, it makes all as light as if an hundred lamps were hanged round; can any man wish for more useful properties in a stone than these? yet my _ebelus_ is so excellent, that it may be much preferred before them, yea prized above all the diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds that our world can afford. the _lunar_ colour is so exceeding beautiful, that a man would travel a thousand leagues to behold it, the shape is somewhat flat, of the breadth of a piece of eight, and twice the thickness, one side is of a more orient colour than the other, which being clapt to a man's bare skin, takes away all the weight and ponderousness of his body, but turning the other side, it adds force to the attractive beams of the earth either in this world or that, and makes the body half as heavy again: do you wonder now, why i should so overprize this stone? before you see me on earth again, you will find i have reason to value this invaluable jewel. i enquired, whether they had not any kind of jem, or other means to make a man invisible, which i judged a thing of admirable use, and could mention divers of our learned men who had written to this purpose; they answered, that if it were possible, yet they were sure heaven would not suffer it to be revealed to us creatures subject to so many imperfections, and which might be easily abused to ill purposes, and this was all i could get of them. now after it was known that _irdonozur_ the great monarch had done me this honour, it is strange how much all respected me more than before; my guardians, who had been hitherto cautious in relating any thing of the government of that world, grew now more open, so that from them and _pylonas_ together i understood many notable particulars; as that in a thousand years there is found neither thief nor whore-monger, for first there is no want of any thing necessary for the use of man, food growing every where without labour, of all sorts that can be desired. as for cloths, houses, or whatever else a man may be supposed to want, it is provided by their superiors, though not without some labour, but yet so easy as if they did it for pleasure: again, their females are all absolute beauties, and by a secret disposition of nature, a man there having once known a woman never desires any other: murther was never heard of amongst them, neither is it hardly possible to be committed, for there can be no wound made but what is curable; yea they assured me, and for my part i believe it, that though a man's head be cut off, yet if within three moons it be joined to the carcase again, and the juice of a certain herb there growing applied, it will be so consolidated, as the wounded party shall be perfectly cured. but the chief cause of their good government is an excellent disposition in the nature of the people, so that all both old and young hate all manner of vice, and live in such love, peace, and amity, as it seems to be another paradise: though it is true likewise that some are of a better disposition than others, which they discern immediately at their birth; and because it is an inviolable law amongst them that none shall be put to death; therefore perceiving by their stature or some other signs, who are like to be of a wicked and debauched humour, they send them, i know not by what means, into the earth, and change them for other children, before they have either opportunity or ability to do amiss among them; but first, they say, they are fain to keep them there for some time, till the air of the earth alters their colour like ours. their ordinary vent for them is a certain high hill in the north of _america_, whose people, i am apt to believe, are wholly descended from them, both in regard of their colour, and their continual use of tobacco, which the _lunars_ or _moon men_ smoak exceedingly, the place abounding much with moisture, together with the pleasure they take therein, and some other respects too long to rehearse: sometimes, though but seldom, they mistake their aim, and fall upon _europe_, _asia_, or _africa_. i remember some years since i read certain stories tending to confirm what is related by these _lunars_, and especially one chapter of _neubrigensis_. _inigo mondejar_, in his description of _nova granata._ also _joseph desia de carana_, in his history of _mexico_, if my memory fail not, recount what will make my report more creditable; but i value not testimonies. if you enquire how justice is executed, alas, what need is there of exemplary punishment where no offences are committed, neither need they any lawyers, for there is no contention, the seeds whereof, when they begin to sprout, are by the wisdom of the next superior pluckt up by the roots. and as little want is there of physicians, they never surfeit themselves; the air is always pure and temperate, neither is there any cause of sickness, i could never hear of any that were distempered. but the time assigned them by nature being spent, they die without the least pain, or rather cease to live, as a candle does to give light when what nourishes it is consumed. i was once at the departure of one of them, and was much surprized, that notwithstanding the happy life he lived, and the multitude of friends and children he should forsake, yet as soon as he understood his end to approach, he prepared a great feast, and inviting all whom "he esteemed, exhorts them, to be merry and rejoice with him, since the time was come he should now leave the counterfeit pleasures of that world, and be made partaker of all true joy and perfect happiness." i did not so much admire his own constancy, as the behaviour of his friends: with us in the like case all seem to mourn, when many of them do oft but laugh in their sleeves, or under a vizard. but here all both young and old did, in my conscience, not pretendedly, but really rejoice thereat, and if any dissembled, it was only grief for their own particular loss. being dead their bodies putrify not, and so are not buried, but kept in certain rooms appointed to that purpose, so that most of them can shew their ancestors bodies uncorrupt for many generations: there is never any rain, wind, or change of weather, never either summer or winter, but as it were a perpetual spring, yielding all pleasure and content, free from the least trouble or annoyance; o my wife and children, what wrong have you done me to bereave me of the happiness of that place! but it is no great matter, for by this voyage i am sufficiently assured, that when the race of my mortal life is run, i shall attain a greater happiness elsewhere. it was the ninth of _september_ that i began to ascend from the _pike of teneriff_; twelve days i was upon my voyage, and arrived in that province of the moon called _simiri_, sept. 21. may 12, we came to the court of the great _irdonozur_, and returned back the 17th to the palace of _pylonas_, where i continued till _march_ 1601. when i earnestly requested _pylonas_, as i had oft done before, to give me leave to depart, tho' with hazard of my life, back into the earth again. he dissuaded me, insisting on the danger of the voyage, the misery of that place from whence i came, and the abundant happiness i now enjoyed; but the remembrance of my wife and children, outweighed all these reasons, and to say the truth, i was so elated with a desire of the glory i should purchase at my return, as methought i deserved not the name of a spaniard, if i would not hazard twenty lives rather than lose the least particle thereof. i replied i had so strong a desire to see my children, that i could not possibly live any longer without going to them: he then requested me to stay one year longer; i told him, i must needs depart now or never, my birds began to droop for want of their usual voyage, three were already dead, and if a few more failed, i was destitute of all possibility of return. at length with much solliciting i prevailed, having first acquainted the great irdonozur with my intentions, and perceiving by the often baying of my birds a great longing in them to be gone, i trimmed up my engine, and took my leave of _pylonas_, and _march_ 29, three days after my waking from, the last moon's light, i fastened myself to my engine, not forgetting to take the jewels _irdonozur_ had given me, with the virtues and use whereof _pylonas_ had acquainted me at large, with a small quantity of victuals, whereof afterward i had great occasion. a vast multitude of people being present, and among them _pylonas_ himself, after i had given them all the last farewel, i let loose the reins to my birds, who with much greediness taking wing, quickly carried me out of sight; it happened to me as in my first passage, for i never felt either hunger or thirst till i fell upon an high mountain in _china_, about five leagues from the high and mighty city of _pequin_. this voyage was performed in less than nine days, neither heard i any news of these airy men i met with in my ascending; nothing stayed me in my journey, whether because of the earnest desire of my birds to return to the earth, having already missed their season, or that the attraction of the earth was so much stronger than that of the moon, and so made it easier, yet so it was, though i had three birds less than before. for the first eight days my birds flew before me, and i on the engine was as it were drawn after; but the ninth day, when i began to approach the clouds, i perceived myself and engine to sink toward the earth, and go before them. i was then horribly afraid, least my birds unable to bear our weight, being so few, should be constrained to precipitate both me and themselves headlong to the earth, and thought it very necessary to make use of my stone _ebelus_, which i clapt to my bare skin within my clothes, and instantly i perceived my birds made way with greater ease than before, as seeming freed from a great burthen, neither do i think they could possibly have let me down safely to the earth without that help. _china_ is a country so populous, that i think there is scarce a piece of ground thrice a man's length which is not carefully manured: i being yet in the air, some of the country people spying me came running by troops, and seized me, would needs carry me before a magistrate, and seeing no other remedy i yielded to them. but when i tried to go i found myself so light, that one foot being on the ground i had much ado to set down the other, which was by reason my _ebelus_ took all weight away from my body, therefore i pretended a desire of performing the necessities of nature; which being made known to them by signs, for they understood not a word of any language i could speak, they permitted me to go aside among a few bushes, assuring themselves it was impossible i should escape from them; being there, i remembred _pylonas_ his directions about the use of my stones, and knit them up, with a few remaining jewels, into an handkerchief, all except the least and worst _ebelus_, which i found means to apply in such manner to my body, that but the half of its side touched my skin; this done i drew toward my guardians, till coming so near that they could not cross my way, i shewed them a fair pair of heels, that i might have time to hide my jewels, which i knew they would have robbed me of if not prevented. being thus lightened i led them such a dance, that had they been all upon the backs of so many race-horses they could never have overtaken me; i directed my course to a thick wood, wherein i entered about a quarter of a league, and there finding a fine spring, which i took for my mark, i thrust my jewels into a hole made by a mole hard by. i then took my victuals out of my pocket, to which till now in all my voyage i had not the least appetite, and refreshed myself therewith, till the people who pursued overtook me, into whole hands i quietly surrendered myself; they led me to an inferior officer, who understanding that i escaped from those who first apprehended me, caused an inclosure of boards to be made, wherein they put me, so that only my head was at liberty, and then carried me upon the shoulders of sour slaves, like some notorious malefactor, before a person of great authority, who in their language i learnt, was called a _mandarin_, and resided a league off the famous city of _pequin_. i could not understand them, but found i was accused for something with much vehemence, the substance of this accusation it seems was, that i was a magician, as appeared by my being so strangely carried in the air, and that being a stranger, as both my language and habit did declare, i contrary to the laws of _china_ had entered the kingdom without a warrant, and probably for no good intent. the _mandarin_ heard them with a great deal of gravity, and being a man of quick apprehension, and studious of novelties, he told them he would take such order as the case required, and my bold attempt should not go unpunished: having dismist them, he ordered his servants i should be kept in a remote pare of his vast palace, be strictly guarded, and kindly used; this i conjecture by my treatment, and what followed, for my accommodation was much better than i could expect, i lodged well, eat well, was well attended, and could complain of nothing but my restraint; thus continued i many months, afflicted more with the thoughts of my _gansas_ than any thing else, who i knew must be irrecoverably lost, as indeed they were. in this time by my own industry, and the assistance of those who accompanied me, i learnt to speak indifferently the language of that province, (for almost every province in china hath its proper tongue) whereat i perceived they were much pleased: at length i was permitted to take the air, and brought into the spacious garden of that palace, a place of extraordinary pleasure and delight, adorned with herbs and flowers of admible sweetness and beauty, with almost infinite variety of fruits, european and others, all composed with that rare curiosity, as even ravished my senses in the contemplation of such delightful objects; i had not long recreated myself here, when the _mandarin_ entered the garden on that side i was walking, of which having notice by his servants, and that i ought to kneel to him (a usual reverence i found toward great officers) i did so, and humbly intreated his savour toward a poor stranger, who arrived in these parts not designedly, but by the secret disposal of the heavens, he answered in a different language which i hear all the _mandarins_ use, and like that of the _lunars_ consisting chiefly of tunes, which was interpreted by one of his attendants, wishing me to be of good comfort, since he intended no harm to me. next day i was ordered to come before him, and being conducted into a noble dining-room exquisitely painted, the _mandarin_ commanding all to avoid, vouchsafed to confer with me in the vulgar language, enquiring into the state of my country, the power of my prince, and the religion and manners of the people; wherein having satisfied him, he asked me about my education, and what brought me into this remote country; i then declared to him the adventures of my life, omitting what i thought convenient, and especially forbearing to mention the stories given me by _irdonozur_. the strangeness of my story did much amaze him, and finding in all my discourse nothing tending to magick, wherein he hoped by my means to be intruded, he began to admire the excellency of my wit, applauding me for the happiest man that this world ever saw, and wishing me to repose myself after my long narration, he for that time dismissed me. after which the _mandarin_ took so much delight in me, that no day passed wherein he did not fend for me: at length he advised me to cloath myself in the habit of that country, which i willingly did, and gave me not only the liberty of his house, but took me also with him when he went to _pequin_, whereby i had opportunity to learn the disposition of the people, and the policy of the country, neither did i by my attendance on him, gain only the knowledge of these things, but the possibility likewise of being restored to my native soil, and to those dear pledges which i value above the world, even my wife and children: for by often frequenting _pequin_, i at length heard of some fathers of the society of _jesus_, who were become famous for their extraordinary savour with the king, to whom they had presented some _european_, as clocks, watches, dials, and the like, which by them were counted exquisite curiosities. to these by the _mandarin_'s leave i repaired, and was welcomed by them, they much wondering to see a lay _spaniard_ there, whither they had with so much difficulty obtained leave to arrive. there did i relate to father _pontoja_ and others of the society the forementioned adventures, by whose directions i put them in writing, and sent this story of my fortunes to _macoa_, from thence to be conveyed to _spain_, as a forerunner of my return; and the _mandarin_ being indulgent to me, i came often to the fathers, with whom i consulted about many secrets, and with them also laid the foundation of my return, the blessed hour whereof i do with patience expect, that by enriching my country with the knowledge of these hidden mysteries, i may at last reap the glory of my fortunate misfortunes. _a journey of several_ english _merchants from_ oratava _in_ teneriff, _one of the canary islands on the coast of_ africa, _to the top of the pike in that island, with the observations they made there_. mention being made in the preceding story of the _pike_ of _teneriff_, it may be some diversion to insert the following little journey performed by divers _englishmen_ a few years since to the top, who published the following account thereof. the _pike_ of _teneriff_ is thought not to have its equal in the world for height, its top being so much above the clouds, that in clear weather it may be seen sixty _dutch_ leagues at sea. it cannot be ascended but in _july_ and _august_, lying all the other months covered with snow, though upon this and the near adjacent islands none is to be seen: it requires three days travel to come to the top: the merchants and other worthy persons who undertook this journey proceed thus. having furnished ourselves with a guide, servants, and horses to carry our wine and provision, we set forth from _oratava_, a port town in the island of _teneriff_, situate on the north side, two mile distant from the main sea, and travelled from twelve at night till eight in the morning, by which time we got to the top of the first mountain toward the _pico de terraira_; there under a very large and conspicuous pine tree we took our breakfast, dined, and refresht ourselves till two in the afternoon. then we passed through many sandy ways, over many lofty mountains, but naked and bare, and not covered with pine trees as our first night's passage was; this exposed us to excessive heat, till we arrived to the foot of the _pico_, where we found divers huge stones, which seemed to have fallen from some upper part: about six in the evening we began to ascend up the _pico_, but were scarce advanced a mile, when the way being no more passable for horses, we left them with our servants. in the ascent of one mile, some of our company grew very saint and sick, disordered by fluxes, vomitings, and agueish distempers, our horses hair standing up like bristles, and calling for some of our wine carried in small barrels on an horse, we found it so wonderfully cold, that we could not drink it till we had made a fire to warm it, notwithstanding the air was very calm and moderate, but when the sun was set, it began to blow with such violence, and grew so cold, that taking up our lodging among the hollow rocks, we were necessitated to keep fires in the mouths of them all night. about four in the morning we began to mount again, and being come another mile up, one of our company failed and was able to proceed no further: here began the _black rocks_; the rest of us pursued our journey till we came to the _sugar loaf_, where we began to travel again in a white sand, being fitted with shoes, whose single soles are made a finger broader than the upper leathers, to encounter this difficult passage: having ascended as far the _black rocks_, which lay all flat like a plain floor, we climbed within a mile of the very top of the _pico_, and at last we attained the _summit_, where we found no such smoak as appeared a little below, but a continual perspiration of a hot and sulphureous vapour that made our faces extremely sore; all this way we found no considerable alteration of the air, and very little wind, but on the top it was so impetuous, that we had much ado to stand against it whilst we drank k. _charles_ ii. health, and fired each of us a gun. here also we took our dinner, but found that our strong waters had lost their virtue, and were almost insipid, while our wine was more brisk and spirituous than before: the top on which we stood being not above a yard broad, is the brink of a pit called the _caldera_, which we judged to be a musket shot over, and near fourscore yards deep, in form of a cone, hollow within like a kettle, and covered over with small loose stones mixed with sulphur and sand, from among which issued divers spiracles of smoak and heat, which being stirred with any thing puffs and makes a noise, and is so offensive, that we were even suffocated with the sudden rising of vapors, upon removing one of these stones, which were so hot as not easily to be handled; we descended not above sour or five yards into the _caldera_ or caldron, because of the slipperiness under foot, and the difficulty; but some have adventured to the bottom: other matters observable we discovered none, besides a clear sort of _sulphur_ which lay like salt upon the stones: from this renowned _pico_ we could see the _grand canaries_ fourteen leagues, distant, _palma_ eighteen, and _gomera_ seven, which interval of sea seemed not much wider than the _thames_ about _london_; we discerned also the _herro_, being distant about twenty leagues, and so to the utmost limits of the sea much farther: as soon as the sun appeared, the shadow of the _pico_ seemed to cover not only the whole island and the _grand canaries_, but the sea to the very horizon, where the top of the _sugar-loaf_ or _pico_ visibly appeared to turn up, and cast its shade into the air itself, at which we were much surprized. but the sun was not far ascended when the clouds began to rise so fast, as intercepted our prospect both of the sea and the whole island, except the tops only of the subjacent mountains, which seemed to pierce them through; whether these clouds do ever surmount the _pico_ we cannot say, but to such as are far below they seem sometimes to hang above it, or rather wrap themselves about it, constantly when the west winds blow; this they call the cap, and is an infallible prognostick of ensuing storms: one of our company who made this journey again two years after, arriving at the top of the _pico_ before day, and creeping under a great stone to shroud himself from the cold air, after a little space found himself all wet, and perceived it to come from a perpetual trickling of the water from the rocks above him: many excellent and exuberant springs we found issuing from the tops of most of the other mountains, gushing out in great spouts, almost as far as the huge pine tree we mentioned before; having stayed a while at the top, we all descended the sandy way till we came to the foot of the _sugar-loaf_ which being steep even almost to a perpendicular we soon parted, and here we met with a cave about ten yards deep and fifteen broad, being in shape like an oven or _cupola_, having a hole at the top near eight yards over; this we descended by a rope that our servants held fast on the top, while with the other end being fastened about our middles we swung ourselves, till being over a bank of snow we slid down, lighting upon it; we were forced to swing thus in the descent, because in the midst of the bottom of this cave opposite to the overture at the top, is a round pit of water like a well, the surface whereof is about a yard lower, but as wide as the mouth at top, and about six fathom deep; we supposed this water was not a spring, but dissolved snow blown in, or water trickling through the rocks; about the sides of the grott for some height there is ice and isicles hanging down to the snow. but being quickly weary of this excessive cold place, and drawn up again, we continued our descent from the mountains by the fame passage we went up the day before, and so about five in the evening arrived at _oratava_, from whence we set forth; our faces were so red and sore that to cool them we were forced to wash and bathe them in whites of eggs: the whole height of the _pico_ in perpendicular is vulgarly esteemed to be two miles and an half. no trees, herbs nor shrubs did we find in all the passage, but pines, and among the whiter sands a kind of broom being a bushy plant: it is the opinion of some ingenious persons who have lived twenty years upon the place, that the whole island being a soil mightily impregnated with brimstone, did in former times take fire, and blow up all or near all at the same time; and that many mountains of huge stones calcined and burnt, which appear all over this island, especially in the south-west part of it, were cast up and raised out of the bowels of the earth at the time of that general conflagration; and that the greatest quantity of this _sulphur_ lying about the center of the island raised up the pico to that height at which it now is seen; which appears by the situation of those rocks that lye three or four miles round the bottom of the _pico_, and in such order one above another almost to the _sugar-loaf_, as it is called, as if the whole ground swelling and rising up together by the ascension of the brimstone, the torrents and rivers of it did with a sudden eruption roul and tumble them down from the rest of the rocks; especially to the south-west, where from the top of the _pico_ to the sea coast lie huge heaps of these burnt rocks one under another, and there still remain the very tracks of the brimstone rivers as they ran over this quarter, of the island which hath so wasted the ground, beyond recovery, that nothing can be made to grow there but broom. * * * * * books _printed and sold by_ john lever, _bookseller, stationer, and printseller, at_ little moorgate, _next to_ london wall, _near_ moorfields. 1. the wonderful, surprizing and uncommon voyages and adventures of captain jones to patagonia, relating his adventures to sea, his first landing, and strange combat with a mighty bear, his furious battle with his six and thirty men, against an army of eleven kings, with their overthrow and deaths; his relieving kemper castle, his strange and admirable sea-fight, with six huge gallies of spain, and nine thousand soldiers; his being taken a prisoner and hard usage; his being set at liberty by the king's command in exchange for twenty-four spanish captains, and return for england, a comical description of captain jones's ruby nose. part the second. his incredible adventures by sea and land, particularly his miraculous deliverance from a wreck at sea by the support of a dolphin; his several desperate duels, his combat with baadercham, a giant of the race of og, his overcoming the giant neerapenny, his loves with the queen of noland, his barely leaving her, his deep employments and happy success in business of state; all which, and more, is but the title of his own relation until he grew speechless and died, with his elegy and epitaph, the second edition, adorned with a curious cut of captain jones in combat with the king of the giants &c. &c. price only 1 s. 2. low life, or one half of the world knows not how the other half live, being a critical account of what is transacted by people of almost all religions, nations, circumstances, and sizes of understanding, in the twenty-four hours, between saturday night and monday morning; in a true description of a sunday, as is usually spent within the bills of mortality, calculated for the 21st of june, with an address to mr. hogarth, "let fancy guess, the rest," buckingham. the third edition, adorned with a droll humorous print of st. monday. price only 1s. 6d. 3. the secret history of betty ireland, who was trepanned into marriage at the age of fourteen, and debauched by beau m--te, &c. &c. a book full of surprizing incidents in the gay life she passed through, her misfortunes, with her penitence and sudden death. this book is a proper present to young people, to deter them from such scenes of life, that too many of the young and gay of both sexes run into. the seventh edition, with a beautiful frontispiece of a scene in gay life. price only 6 d. 4. tabes dorsalis, or the cause of a consumption in young men and women, with an explication of its symptoms, precautions, and the method of cure, &c. &c. by a physician of bristol. the fourth edition. embellished with a curious frontispiece of a gentleman and lady in a deep consumption. this book is very proper for all persons to read in these sickly times. *** be careful to ask for lever's book against consumptions. 1 s. 5. the art of swimming, illustrated with forty copper plate cuts, which represent the different postures necessary to be used in that art, with advice for bathing, by monsieur thevenot; to which is prefixed a prefatory discourse, concerning artificial swimming, or keeping oneself above water, by several small portable engines in cases of danger. the second edition. price 1s. 6d. sewed, or 2s. bound. n. b. the cramp is here provided against, by a method in swimming that will bring the person in safety to shore, for the want of knowing which secret, thousands of lives have been lost, as well as the expertest swimmers, which will now be saved by reading this excellent book. 6. the husband forced to be jealous, or the good fortune of those women that have jealous husbands: being the secret history of several noble persons, translated from the french. the second edition, with a handsome frontispiece of gentlemen and ladies. price only 1s. n. b. this book is on the plan of pamela, clarissa and grandison. 7. pteryplegia, or the art of shooting flying, a poem, by the ingenious mr. markland, a. b. late fellow of st. john's college in oxford. the third edition, with a very rural frontispiece of a sporting gentleman going out early in the morning with his dog and gun; shewing the right position of holding the gun in shooting flying. price 1s. *** be very careful to ask for lever's book by markland, for fear of having the wrong sort[1]. 8. le jardinier solitaire. the solitary or carthusian gardener, being dialogues between a gentleman and a gardener, containing the method to make and cultivate all sorts of gardens, with many new experiments therein, and reflexions on the culture of trees. written in french by francis gentil, lay brother of the order of carthusians, and above thirty years gardener to the charter-house at paris, in two parts. also the compleat florist, for the universal culture of flowers, trees, and shrubs, proper to embellish gardens; with the way of raising all sorts of pastures, greens, knots, porticoes, columns, and other ornaments, the whole illustrated by many cuts, and with the fable and moral of each plant. by the sieur lovis liger d'auxerre, in three parts: price 5s. bound. 9. a parallel of the ancient architecture with the modern, in a collection of ten principal authors, who have written upon the five orders, viz. palladio and scamozzi, sertio and vignola, de barbaro and cataneo, l. b. alberti and viola, bullant and de lorme; the greek orders, doric, ionic and corinthian, compose the first part of this treatise, and the two latin, tuscan and composite, the latter. written in french by roland freart sieur de chambray, made english for the benefit of builders. to which is added an account of architects and architecture, by an historical and etymological explanation of certain terms, particularly affected by architects; with leontista alberti's treatise of statues. by john evelyn, esq; fellow of the royal society. the fourth edition, with the addition of the elements of architecture, collected by sir henry wootten, knt. from the best authors and examples, and also other large editions. folio. price 12 s. 10. the pious youths recreation; or travels through godliness, containing a pleasant historical relation of the families of riches and poverty, godliness and labour, wherein the family neglects, and vices of husbands and wives, children and parents, masters and servants, are laid open in familiar verse, &c. illustrated with diversity of pictures, suited to their several occasions. price only 6d. bound in gilt covers. 11. theophilus cibber to david garrick, esq; with dissertations on theatrical subjects. octavo. adorned with droll humorous cuts. price 4s. bound. 12. sermons on eleven very important subjects. to which is added a celebrated latin oration spoken at cambridge, by the pious dr. crowe of bishopsgate church london, and chaplain to his late majesty king george the second. octavo. 4s. bound. 13. a latin grammer, by john read of boston in new england. price 3d. stitched in blue covers. 14. the bloody tribunal, or an antidote against popery, being a review of the cruelties of the inquisition, as practised in spain, portugal, italy, and the east and west-indies, on all those whom the church of rome brands with the name of hereticks. extracted from authors of undoubted credit, and embellished with copper plate cuts. octavo. price 4s. bound. 15. a plain address to the followers and favourers of the methodists, by the late rev. mr. anguish of deptford in kent. price 4 d. finis. goddess of the moon _a complete planet novel_ by john murray reynolds death hid behind a smile in the white-and-gold city of gral-thala. gibson, earth-spy off the derelict strathoship, well knew his captive-fate. but if he died, then the good green planet perished from the gray death.... if he died, then died diana, fair goddess of the moon. [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from planet stories spring 1940. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] the tokyo-to-new york stratholiner swept down toward the manhattan municipal airport early on a winter evening, with the port-holes gleaming all along the 300-foot length of her polished steel body. rockets cut off well above the city in accordance with the strict american traffic regulations, she came down with half a dozen big props spinning under the drive of her powerful diesel auxiliaries. a dozen whirling helicopters had been upthrust to take the strain. she came down to a city that lay murmurous and uneasy under the greatest threat that mankind had ever faced--the threat of the gray death! a band was playing in the liner's saloon, and passengers in the smoking-room were hurriedly gulping down the last of their drinks. there was a forced and unnatural gaiety on board. most of the passengers had taken more than a few drinks on the way across from tokyo--for the news of the spread of the gray death was ominous. it is hard to retain peace of mind when a strange new epidemic rages unchecked from alaska to cape horn and from nova zembla to new zealand. men and women were dying like flies, and all the medical science of this twenty-fourth century seemed helpless before the deadly plague. it was the steady vibration of the diesels that brought larry gibson back to an awareness of his surroundings. their resonant hum was distinctly different from the pounding blast of the rockets, and any experienced stratho-pilot could tell the difference in a second. larry tossed off the last of his drink and wiped his mouth with the back of an unsteady hand. then he pushed back his chair and stood up, swaying as he tried to hold his balance on the slightly tilted floor of the descending liner. a man at the next table glanced curiously up at him. "guess we're landing, friend," he said. "y'know, they say that there are a thousand deaths a day here in new york city now. they're digging graves in the cemeteries with electric shovels, i understand." "life," said larry with alcoholic gravity, "is cheap. too cheap. one hundred lives equals a man's career. it's all been worked out mathematically. good evening." larry left the third-class bar where he had been sitting, and walked slowly along the corridor. mechanically he turned the collar of his frayed coat up around his neck and pulled the brim of his wide hat well down over his eyes. there was always the possibility that someone would recognize him, and in these past months he had learned to keep in the shadowy byways of life. the time would come when men would forget that an unlucky person named larry gibson had ever existed, but in this year 2332 there were still plenty of people who would recognize his face. * * * * * gibson was not traveling in the first-class section of the big liner, in those luxurious quarters built into the giant wings to which his rank had once given him free entry. back in the days when he had been chief pilot of all the strathofleet he could ride there as a matter of course. now he could not afford it. he could not even afford the second-class accommodations amidships. instead, he rode in the third-class quarters back in the tail. when a man knows that he has no possible chance of getting another job, he has to hoard the money he has saved up. the giant airliner came down to an easy landing, and rolled across the field on her big wheels. the lights of the airport burned as brightly as ever, but anyone accustomed to new york could tell that there was something wrong. there were no crowds of spectators at all, and the few people who met the incoming travelers looked harassed and nervous. even the airport attendants went about their business in a listless and somehow furtive manner. it had been ten days ago that the blight first struck a peaceful world that believed it had at last made life safe and pleasant for its inhabitants. a few peasants in honan province in china had taken convulsions and died while their skins turned a peculiar silver gray. within twenty-four hours similar deaths were reported from points as widely separated as bergen, norway and santos in brazil. since then the strange new epidemic had raged unchecked. all the medical and financial resources of the confederated nations of earth had been thrown into the fight without effect. the gray death struck quickly, men and women alike dying within six hours of the appearance of the first tell-tale patches of silver on their skin. the population had not yet started to panic, except in a few isolated instances, but the nerves of all men were ragged and jumpy from the strain. standing in the crowd of third-class passengers that had just alighted from the liner, larry gibson heard two of the airport attendants talking. "he claims he's going to take that old rocket-ship to the moon!" one of them said, and his companion chuckled. "crazy, all right." "guess he is. but what i'm wondering is how he got a crew to go along with him." "have you seen them? they're the damnedest bunch of derelicts i ever saw." for a moment larry was tempted to ask the attendant for the name of the vessel they were discussing. it sounded like the one place where a disgraced and black-listed officer might get a berth. then he shrugged and turned away. nothing mattered very much, any more. ii the alighted passengers strayed slowly across toward the glass and chromium entrance to the administration building. the landing lights were cut off, and the airport became a deep pool of quiet shadow in the midst of the towering ramparts of new york's buildings. most of the structures were two hundred stories high in this queenly city that had been built on the site of the old one destroyed in the final world war of 2132. then a woman began to scream. she was standing in the glow of light from the administration building, holding out a shaking hand that was already turning silver on the back. people hurriedly backed away from her. she was already in convulsions before the white-garbed attendants from the airport hospital could get her under shelter. a man swore tonelessly, and people kept far apart as they hurried from the field. the gray death had struck again! most of the passengers took elevators to the upper floors. there they boarded monorail trains that took them to the part of the city where they were bound. or, if they happened to live near the airport, they simply went along one of the glass-enclosed cross-walks that clung to the outside of the buildings and bridged the streets in graceful curves. larry gibson did not go into the administration building at all. there would be too many people who might know him, and he dreaded their sneering smiles of recognition. he went out a small gate at the side of the airport, a gate that led to the tenth-floor level. the lower parts of new york's towering buildings formed the zone of factories and warehouses. there were few lights here at this hour, and the cross-walk was nearly deserted. larry was looking for a cheap place to stay, to conserve his dwindling resources. it wasn't that larry was particular about the kind of work that he was willing to do. that stage was far behind him! it was simply that, in this simplex and highly organized civilization of the twenty-fourth century, a man couldn't get a job without showing his properly authenticated identity papers. and when a prospective employer saw his papers, it always turned out that there were no vacancies available. there was a hard bitterness in larry gibson's eyes as he trudged away from the airport. after about half a block, larry turned in at a little place called the moorings bar. it was dingy, and smelled of stale beer. most of the customers were night-shift factory employees, waterfront loafers, and the crews of the water-borne ships that still crawled sluggishly across the ocean with those bulky and cheap commodities that the airliners did not care to handle. half a dozen roughly clad men leaned on the greasy bar. larry sat down at a corner table and called for a drink. so he was back in new york--the city that had been his home before the stratholiner _pegasus_ fell into the sea with a loss of a hundred lives two years before! larry wondered how long he would stay here. not long. a month, or perhaps six weeks. the latter would be a long time for him to remain in one place nowadays. he had become a wanderer. a rolling stone that gathered neither moss nor worldly goods, nor even much of the peace of mind that he sought. so he passed like a shadow from city to city and from land to land. he made no friends nowadays. larry gibson was still a young man, but there was a cold grimness about his face that did not encourage advances. * * * * * a radio behind the bar had been playing music, but now the sound abruptly ceased and the television screen went blank. then the face of a government announcer appeared on the screen. his voice came from the speaker sharp and clear. "though the toll of the gray death continues to be very heavy, the government of the confederation is pleased to announce to the peoples of earth that the mystery of the disease has been solved. it is found to be a new and malignant form of leprosy, caused by some hitherto unknown germ. it has also been found that the proper use of radium can control the disease, when applied by what doctors call the riesland method. that is the end of this bulletin." the radio returned to playing music. the bald-headed bartender grinned broadly. "maybe we'll have a chance to go on living after all, boys," he said. "i guess that calls for a drink on the house." "aye--the mystery of the gray death is removed!" a deep voice behind larry rumbled with heavy sarcasm. "i could have told them that answer a week ago, if i'd thought the thick-headed fools who run this planet would listen to me! but what they haven't announced is that the riesland method calls for a lot of radium, and all earth's supply is not enough to check this epidemic in time to save the population of the planet!" larry turned around to glance at the speaker. it was a man who sat alone at a table by the wall. he was a very tall man, gaunt and gray-haired with a pointed beard that jutted forward at a pugnacious angle. exceptionally heavy eyebrows gave him a quizzical appearance. his unpressed clothes were badly stained, and rakishly tilted on one side of his head was a slouch hat of a type that had gone out of style many years before. a half-empty bottle of rum stood on the table before him. somehow he gave the impression of having already consumed what liquor was missing from the bottle, and of having every intention of emptying it before leaving his table. well, larry gibson reflected with a sardonic grin, _he_ was no one to criticize a man for a little thing like excessive drinking. his own record in that regard had been pretty lurid for the past two years. just then the other man grasped his bottle firmly in one hand, and his glass in the other, and lurched over to larry's table. "mind if i join you for a bit of conversation, young feller?" he boomed. "rum, more than any other essence of bacchus, is a friendly drink that needs to be shared." larry looked up at him without cordiality. he had been living alone with his bitterness and frustration for so long that he resented any intrusion on his privacy. then he suddenly grinned. there was a reckless and irrational gallantry about this gaunt old man that appealed to some part of his own nature that had now been dormant for a long time. "sure, sit down," he said. "thanks, young feller. my name is crispin gillingwater ripon, and i feel the need of a little company after a hard day trying to recondition a rocket ship with the lousiest collection of shiftless renegades that ever signed on as crew for such a craft." "what ship is that?" larry wanted to know. "the _sky maid_." "never heard of her," larry said thoughtfully and slowly. "you wouldn't! she used to be the _orion_, but she is now renamed and my ship--subject to a matter of a few liens and some faulty hull insulation and a very good chance of never coming back to port again after i start on my voyage. have a drink, young feller!" "the _orion_!" larry exclaimed "why, she was condemned as not air-worthy over a year ago!" "how else do you think i bought her?" ripon grinned. "i'll concede that, if the world had shown a proper appreciation for my varied talents, i'd be a millionaire many times over, but i happen to be almost broke. you appear to be a promising lad, young feller. how about signing on for a trip to the moon?" "so you're the crazy man who is talking of going to the moon," larry grinned. ripon glowered at him from under his heavy brows for a minute, then grinned in return. "be more careful with your language, young feller, or i'll bust this bottle over your head! i may be eccentric, but i'm a lot saner than those pedants who claim the trip can't be made." iii ripon was sprawled back at his ease, a smoldering pipe in one hand and his glass in the other. he was smiling at larry's startled expression, but he seemed to be serious. vague memories were stirring in larry gibson's mind, memories of things he had read and heard in the old days before he became a drifter whose main effort was to avoid thinking at all. crispin gillingwater ripon! he had heard the name before, though it had been in connection with abstract science rather than with practical rocket-ship flying. somehow, his memory of the name was connected with failure, with public derision, and with rumors of outright charlatanism. "i think i've heard of you," he said cautiously. "in that case you have heard no good!" ripon said cheerfully. "i am at present the problem child of the scientific world. the horrible example! a laughing stock for seedy professors and callow students. mention of my name produces hoarse guffaws of mirth in scientific circles at the moment, young feller, but it will be different when i return from my successful trip to the moon. better come along." "why are you going at this time?" "because there are radium salts on the moon, i am convinced. this world hasn't treated me with much respect, young feller, but i've had a good time on it for my sixty-odd years and i'm fond of the old place. i want to make the trip and get back before the gray death wipes out our population--including myself!" "but you can't take a rocket-ship to the moon," larry protested. "professor staunton's attempt proved that thirty years ago." "all it proved was that neither staunton nor his ship were ever heard of again," ripon said calmly. "i knew staunton well. he was a good man, a careful man--but he wasn't crispin gillingwater ripon! i'm making some changes of my own in the _sky maid_; changes that should spell the difference between success and failure." when he looked back at it later, larry had only a hazy recollection of the rest of that evening. the rum got to him. the one thing that did stick in his mind was a snatch of song that he and ripon had sung over and over again, pounding their glasses on the table while the other men in the dingy little barroom stared at them in good-natured derision. "there's only a few of us left, and we never were worth a damn, but i'll follow my vagrant star, that's the kind of a guy i am! (drink it down!) that's the kind of a guy i am!" * * * * * larry gibson awoke the next morning to the sound of many hammers beating on a steel shell. there was also a sharp and comprehensive ache that started at the top of his head, which felt as though someone had been hitting him with the butt of a ray-gun, and spread all down through his body. he groaned and sat up. he lay in a bunk, in a steel-walled cabin. evidently the officers' quarters on some strathoship. across the white painted ceiling, where flakes of red rust were showing through the dirty paint, the word condemned had been stenciled in black. sitting upright on the edge of his bunk, larry momentarily dropped his head in his hands. then he stood up and left the cabin, grinding his teeth at the ceaseless pound of the hammers on the steel shell. at intervals, as larry went slowly down the corridor, he passed the word condemned stenciled on the walls and bulk-heads. when the government inspectors decided that a a rocket-ship was no longer safe for flights through the vast emptiness of the strathosphere, they made the fact very evident! he climbed a ladder to an open manhole, and emerged into the bright sunlight of a winter morning. for an instant he filled his smoke-tainted lungs with deep gulps of fresh air. then he looked about him. he stood atop the red-painted hull of a rocket-ship. it was an old v-39, a type that had been first built some thirty years before and was now obsolete. the weathered paint was badly rust streaked, and the worst spots had been touched up with bright red lead so that they looked like livid scars. the ship was lying in a corner of the airport, and a gang of men were busy at what appeared to be an attempt at general reconditioning. after one look larry didn't think it would do much good. turning forward along the top of the super-structure, larry met a man in a faded blue uniform that bore the two stripes of a second officer. he was a lean, swarthy-faced man with a meticulously pointed mustache that contrasted strangely with his otherwise down-at-the-heels appearance. "morning," he said shortly. "i'm colton, the second officer. guess you're the new first mate." "if so, it's news to me!" larry said grimly. "where's the madman that commands this decrepit craft?" "you'll find the old man in the control room. and if you use your head, you won't speak slightingly of the _sky maid_ in his presence." "when i want your advice i'll ask for it," larry said. colton's eyes blinked momentarily, but then he smiled and larry immediately marked him down as a man to be watched. he didn't trust people who smiled when they were insulted. "suit yourself," colton said as he turned away. crispin gillingwater ripon was bent over a set of strange diagrams spread out on the chart table in the control room. thick smoke swirled from the short pipe clenched in his teeth. his face was deeply lined this morning, and there were wrinkled hollows under his eyes, but he looked up with a broad grin as larry came into the dusty control room. his reckless eyes were bright and cheerful in spite of being bloodshot. * * * * * "cheerio, young feller!" he boomed. "how's the pride of the strathosphere this morning?" "all right," larry said shortly. "it seems that i owe you thanks for a night's lodging. but what's this about my being first mate of this hulk?" "accepting your unspoken apology for having maligned my ship," ripon said severely, "the statement is correct. you signed on last night. i have your signature to prove it--although it's a bit shaky because i had to guide your hand which seemed unable to hold the pen." "do you know who i am?" larry asked grimly. "do i know who you are?" ripon's lean, brown face suddenly crinkled into a smile. "good lord, young feller, you spent two hours last night telling me your life's history while you cried into your beer." "then i can't have told you the whole story." the hang-over, and the fact that he had not had any solid food in nearly twenty-four hours, were making larry slightly dizzy. his voice rose in spite of himself. "i'm larry gibson, black-listed in every airport in the world. 'gibson the murderer,' the newspapers called me. i'm the man who was master of the rocket-liner _pegasus_ when she fell into the south pacific with a loss of a hundred lives. it wasn't really my fault, but the inspectors believed some fools who lied to save their own skins. now, my friend, do you see why i can't sail on even your shaky old craft? i was drummed out of the service, and ever since...." "and ever since you've been going around feeling sorry for yourself!" ripon's voice cut sharply through the mists of larry's bitterness. "hell, young feller, i've been disgraced worse than that more than once. i just don't pay any attention to it. forget it. i need a first officer on this trip, and i believe your story that the disaster wasn't your fault, and there's an end to it! you're coming along." "but i haven't even a license any more." "that doesn't matter. governmental regulations don't apply to a trip to the moon. they don't license a man for what they think is suicide, you know! go ashore and get some breakfast to steady you down. then, when you feel better, come back and i'll go over the details of the trip with you." for a long moment larry stared at ripon. then he began to laugh. "by the lord harry, i think you're crazy!" he said. the gaunt scientist grinned back at him with complete good humor. "better people than you have called me that, young feller," he said cheerfully. "they've been expecting me to get myself killed for years. but crispin gillingwater ripon is still alive and healthy--albeit somewhat battered. follow my star and you'll have plenty of excitement, even though it may get you nothing more than a broken head." iv when larry gibson returned to the ancient and seedy-looking _sky maid_ after a breakfast at a nearby restaurant, he paused to look at the work in progress outside her hull. it was like nothing that he had ever seen before. a network of interlacing wires was being bolted to the outside of the ship's cigar-shaped hull, so that they formed a sort of screen with the strands some two inches apart. other men were busy at caulking rivets and repacking insulation. this last was routine stuff in connection with any attempt to recondition an old vessel for travel in the thin, chill regions of the strathosphere--but he was completely puzzled by the painstaking labor of fastening those criss-crossing wires in place. he found ripon still in the vessel's dusty control room. much of the equipment had been ripped out when the ship was first condemned. the missing articles had been hastily replaced with second-hand equipment which was often of a slightly different pattern from the original, so that the whole room had a makeshift appearance. the lean scientist looked up from the clouds of blue and vile-smelling smoke that swirled upward from his pipe. "well, young feller!" he boomed in his deep voice that could easily carry above the dull roar of rocket motors. "how do you feel now? ready to go to work?" "listen!" larry said. he had intended to be sharp and sarcastic, but he was grinning in spite of himself. it was hard to stay angry with anyone as irresponsibly cheerful as crispin gillingwater ripon. "seriously! you couldn't take the best rocket-ship on earth to the moon, let alone this old derelict. not if you want to come back alive. it's been proven that, by the time you reach the velocity of escape to get away from the earth's attraction, you have a speed too great for our present knowledge of rocket-ship technique to brake in time to prevent disaster...." "_how_ has that been proven?" ripon interrupted, jerking the pipe from between his teeth and pointing the smoking stem at larry as though it were the barrel of a ray-gun. "why--by the two attempts that have been made! you know the story. two hundred years ago, at the time we had the last war on earth, that group of defeated outlaws stole the giant transport _mercury_ and started for the moon and vanished. then, it was only thirty years ago that professor lester staunton made his attempt in the rocket cruiser _orestes_, and he vanished." "you're like all the rest," ripon grumbled. "always jumping to conclusions based on a few scraps of evidence. no man on earth really knows how a rocket-ship would behave in interplanetary travel, because it hasn't yet been done. there is a great mass of unproven theories that are generally accepted as true--but those are not facts. it was once generally accepted that the earth was flat. however--i have a new method of propulsion for this ship, by means of the amplification of magnetic currents, and i expect to supplement the rockets with that new equipment." "i think you're crazy," larry said, "but i'll go along with you anyway." "now you show the proper spirit, even if not good sense," ripon said cheerfully. it was after midnight that night before the _sky maid_ was ready to go. the crew were at launching stations, and the ship's old-fashioned diesels were rumbling as they were warmed up. larry was standing under the dome of duralite glass that covered the upper observation platform when colton came up to stand beside him. "well--we'll be off in a few minutes!" the swarthy second officer said. "wonder if we'll ever come back." "lord knows!" colton shrugged, and his dark eyes were somber. "the police of half a dozen countries are looking for me anyway. i've had my fingers crossed the whole time we've been refitting this craft." "why tell me all this?" larry asked. colton shrugged again, and his smile was half a sneer. "your own reputation isn't much better, gibson. i figure that if this trip works out it may give us both a chance to square ourselves, and if it doesn't we're not much worse off than we are now." "you may have something there," larry admitted. then ripon shouted a command, and the helicopters started to spin. only a handful of loafers watched the _sky maid_ take off. a few waved. others tapped their heads derisively. man's third attempt to navigate the 239,000 empty miles to the moon had begun! * * * * * the old ship's rickety helicopters and creaking diesels could hardly lift her high enough to reach the level required by law before the rockets could be started. high clouds veiled the stars, but the many lights of new york were still visible below them when ripon at last cut in the rocket motors. the _sky maid_ shivered all along her length as their blasting roar began, and then she started to shoot upward at a steep angle. her whole fabric creaked and groaned, and larry gibson shook his head dubiously. a few air-leaks would be all they would need to make their situation utterly hopeless. the drive of the rockets carried them into the belt of clouds. for a few seconds the glass ports were veiled by gray mist. then they were above the clouds and zooming upward in the cold light of the moon. the crew were released from their launching stations as the ship settled down to a smooth routine, and larry took over the watch. a minute later he was alone in the darkened control room with the dim glow of the varied instrument panels to keep him company. already the air was starting to thin out, so he closed the ports and turned on the vessel's air-conditioning system. the atmosphere took on the faintly chemical odor characteristic of travel in a sealed ship in the high places. from somewhere nearby larry could hear a deep voice lifted in song, a voice that rose above the pulsating throb of the rockets. the words were familiar: "there's only a few of us left, and we never were worth a damn, but i'll follow my vagrant star...." larry wondered if ripon was hitting the bottle again. they were in a bad spot if he was, for certainly no one else on board understood the new equipment that ripon had installed to solve the difficulties that had blocked previous attempts at interplanetary travel. in larry's mind there was a steadily strengthening conviction that this whole expedition was destined to failure from the start. it was too makeshift. too poorly organized and planned, too lightly financed. ill-manned and poorly equipped, led by a drunken genius on a rickety ship that wasn't really fit to navigate at all, they were probably sailing to their doom somewhere in the cold reaches of outer space. if they reached the moon at all, it would likely be as a twisted wreck dropped on the cold slope of one of that body's barren craters. larry shrugged. he had made his decision, and he did not regret it. and then, leaning beside one of the control room's glass ports while he kept an eye on the slowly climbing needle of the speed indicator, larry suddenly realized that he had found the peace of mind he had so long been seeking. the clouds were a silvery ocean far below, the moon was a glowing disc ahead. the _sky maid_ snored onward through the night with her rockets pounding. he was again back where he belonged, standing a watch in a vessel's control room. nothing else seemed to matter very much at the moment. ripon came out into the control room a little later, a faded uniform cap pushed to the back of his graying head and his empty pipe clenched in his teeth. "it's tough not to smoke," he rumbled glumly, "but i don't want to put a strain on our none too good air-conditioning equipment. how are things going?" "not so well," larry said, "the rockets aren't balanced, and we have a drift to starboard. three micro-units in every fifteen minutes. i have to keep cutting down the port rocket tubes for short periods to equalize it." "how's the speed?" "not what it should be." larry looked dubiously at the indicator needle. "even with as much rocket power as she's got, we've only built our speed up to a thousand miles an hour even though the atmosphere is greatly thinned. i don't think that we can build up the necessary velocity, chief. i'm afraid it just can't be done." "okay, friend pinzon," ripon said. catching larry's look of puzzled surprise, the gaunt scientist smiled faintly. "there was once a man named columbus who thought he could sail the atlantic, which had not been done before. he was a bit of a faker and a bluff, that genoese adventurer, and there was more than a touch of the charlatan in him. the pinzon brothers who commanded the other two ships of his fleet knew from the start that the voyage could never succeed. i'll admit that columbus didn't find just what he expected to find, but he did cross the atlantic!" ripon laughed, and dropped a hand on larry's shoulder. "hold her on to the course a while, my friend. we're not licked quite so soon!" v ripon was still staring out the control room window at the disc of the moon ahead of them. his voice came somberly as he spoke without turning around. "what's the speed now?" "eleven hundred. velocity of escape is twenty-five hundred." "y'know, larry, it seems one of fate's little ironies that the only hope of saving the people of earth from the gray death lies with this creaking ship and her polyglot crew! oh--i have no illusions about the forlornness of our hope! we have no right to get through. but i'm not entirely a fool, and i have a few aces in my sleeves. i guess it's time to try out my magnetron controls. stand by to cut rocket motors!" ripon moved to several strange-looking control boxes that had been set up at one side of the room. instrument dials glowed into light as he threw a switch, and there came a faint hum. "these tubes are the magnetron oscillators," ripon said. "these switches control the magnetic converters. this other bank governs the selectors." "but i don't get the general principle," larry said. "it's simply a selective utilization of the lines of magnetic force that fill outer space. this ship is naturally para-magnetic, so that she is easily permeable by the lines of force. by charging the wires outside the hull i can make all or part of the ship diamagnetic. furthermore, i can change its charge so that the lines will draw in either direction." "i know enough of the general principles of magnetism to understand that," larry said. "you can vary the direction of the effect, and perhaps vary the dynes. but...." "this indicator shows the hysteresis loop, the lag of magnetic indication behind the magnetizing force at any particular time," ripon continued. "the heart of my system is the group of selectors and amplifiers set up in the compartments directly below us. with them i can select the magnetic currents suited to our course, and amplify them till they move the ship along with them just as the lines of magnetic force move iron filings about a bar magnet. at least," he said with a sudden flash of his reckless smile, "that's what i think i can do. if not, we'll probably never be heard of again. you'd better hope i'm right, young feller!" ripon's craggy profile with its jutting beard was silhouetted against the moon as he bent over his dials and switches. twice he checked them, then he lifted one hand. "ready--cut rockets!" he snapped. larry threw over the lever of the engine room indicator, and the roar of the rockets abruptly ceased. the sudden silence was strangely startling to ears that had become accustomed to that steady pounding astern. running feet sounded in the passage as colton came charging into the control room to find what had gone wrong. for a moment larry had a sensation of falling, and then the _sky maid_ danced about like a leaf in a wind. he steadied himself by clinging to a stanchion and anxiously watched ripon. the gaunt scientist was hunched above his control boards like a gnome, his hands leaping from switch to dial and back again at furious speed. then the motion abruptly ceased. the _sky maid_ became steady as a rock, with the bright disc of the moon dead ahead through the forward port. there was a faint singing sound from one of the control boxes, but otherwise everything was so quiet and still that it seemed as though the ship lay motionless in space. then larry looked at the speed indicator, and saw the needle moving steadily upward. the _sky maid_ was shooting through the heavens at a speed faster than she had ever traveled when she was new and in good condition! * * * * * "gentlemen," said ripon, solemnly shaking hands with both larry and colton, "this is an historic moment! this is a prelude to that day when interplanetary travel becomes as commonplace as are rocket ship flights through the strathosphere nowadays! no longer will the name of crispin gillingwater ripon be a thing of scorn and derision. and just wait till i get a chance to spit in the faces of some of those living fossils back at the national university...." "if the ship holds together!" larry said. ripon sighed. "you _would_ bring that up, young feller. but maybe our luck will hold good. at least this method of travel is less hard on an old craft than the steady strain of a rocket blast. if the ship holds together, we'll be on the moon in forty-eight hours!" colton was grinning broadly as ripon left the control room a minute later. the second officer gave the points of his mustache an added twist, and then rubbed his hands together. "looks like the old goat really came through with something after all," he said. larry looked at him grimly. for all ripon's eccentricities, he was an able man in a great many things. it annoyed larry to hear somebody like colton, a confessed thief and an indifferent officer, speak of him in quite that tone of disrespect. "don't speak of doc ripon in that way when you're with me, colton!" he snapped. the other man's thin mouth twisted in a sneer. "trying to go high hat on me, gibson? you're no better than i am." "if we go into that i'm likely to throw you through the bulkhead," larry said evenly. "so we'll just let it go that i have some gratitude and respect for the man who picked me up out of the gutter--even if you haven't. now clear out of here till it's time for you to take over the watch." for two days and nights the _sky maid_ moved steadily forward on her way. there was, of course, neither day nor night in the airless emptiness of outer space, but they kept routine hours on board. the whole atmosphere of the ship had brightened and changed since ripon's utilization of magnetic force had proven practical. even the slovenly crew went around with their shoulders straighter. the feeling of gloom and failure had been succeeded by one of optimism. now the talk was of whether or not they would really get the desired radium salts on the moon, and of what reward they would all receive when they got back to earth. the watch off duty started a poker game based on notes against the rewards they all expected to get. ahead of the _sky maid_, the moon was now a vast disc that filled half the sky when seen from the control room ports. the bigger peaks and craters were visible to the naked eye now. back in the after observation room, the dwindling but still vast profile of earth had taken on a strange and unfamiliar appearance. it was a lonely feeling, to be so far from that friendly planet. larry wondered how things were now going there, and what had caused the spread of the gray death in the first place. probably a virus brought in on a meteor from some unknown and unhealthy planet. the hope of mankind resting within her rusty hull, the _sky maid_ slogged onward. by earthly standards she was moving at a terrific speed, but compared with the velocity of heavenly bodies and the vastness of interplanetary space she crawled slowly across a small corner of the solar system. vi at last there came the hour when the ship hovered a few hundred miles above the surface of the moon. below them was a vast and uneven surface of barren and pitted rock, round craters and jagged peaks stretching to the horizon in all directions. larry realized now how uneven the surface of the satellite really was, how different from the orange-peel appearance it had when seen through a telescope from earth. all the crew were at landing stations. ripon had adjusted his controls to hold the ship steady in space, and now he stepped back. "there's no use bothering with helicopters," he said. "since there's no atmosphere here, they'd be useless. that's probably what wrecked the ships before us--you can't make an easy landing with rockets alone, and we have no padded landing platform." "can't you lower her down easy with your magnetic control?" larry asked. "that's what i hope to do, but we're not experienced and there may be a jolt. cut off the reserve air tanks, and have all hands put on space suits." the crew of the _sky maid_ looked like a group of fantastic monsters in the metal-cloth space suits with their round helmets of duro-glass. designed for use by emergency repair crews aboard stratholiners in case of trouble, the space suits would keep a man alive and warm in an airless atmosphere for a great many hours. small containers of chemicals kept the air purified, and earphones made communication possible. "stand by for a landing!" ripon's voice buzzed in the ear phones as larry reported all hands ready. "we're going down!" the _sky maid_ went down in a series of jerky drops. with eventual refinement, a ship equipped with the ripon magnetic control would probably be able to come down as gently as a falling leaf, but this first apparatus was crude and experimental. just at the end one of ripon's elbows touched the wrong switch. the rocky surface swept up to meet them at high speed. he shouted hoarsely and spun compensating dials, but before he could check the momentum they struck with a heavy crash. the ship heeled over, and all the lights went out. as larry was flung off his feet he heard a sharp hiss of escaping air. * * * * * momentarily half stunned, larry lay on the floor in a corner of the control room with the body of another of the crew across his legs. then he saw a bulky, space-suited figure heave to its feet across the room and heard ripon's voice in his ear phones. "leaping ray-blasts, what a crash! but i seem to be alive and in one piece. how about the rest of you?" other men struggled to their feet and answered their names. one had his helmet smashed and was already dead in the airless atmosphere that remained after the air had rushed out through the shattered wall of the control room, but the rest had nothing more serious than a few bruises. "well," colton said. "here we are! and here we're likely to stay." "it may not be that serious. the first thing is to take stock of our damage." the _sky maid_, they found on making a complete survey, was far less seriously damaged than might have been the case. the wall of the control room was punctured by a jagged splinter of rock, but there were only a few other minor leaks. many of the compartments had retained their air. once the hole was patched and the other leaks stopped, their reserve tanks still held enough air to let them make a homeward voyage in safety. the network of wires outside the hull would require considerable reconditioning, but none of the internal magnetic equipment was ruined. "about five days' work!" ripon summed up. "and it's primarily a job for the engine room force. gibson, colton, the two quartermasters and i will go ashore with several days' supply of chemical capsules for the air conditioners on our helmets. chief engineer masterson remains in command of the ship. get her back in navigating shape as soon as you can, chief." masterson, a grimy and bullet-headed little man with a drooping mustache and something of the look of a mournful airedale, slapped the side of his duro-glass helmet in a casual salute. larry knew that the ship was being left in good hands. he had come to have considerable respect for the taciturn engineer. he did not know why masterson was on board the _sky maid_, very likely because he had been in some trouble similar to larry's own, but he was certainly an efficient engineer. he wished he felt as sure of the three men who were going ashore with ripon and himself. colton he considered thoroughly untrustworthy, and the two quartermasters were a pair of sullen derelicts of the sort that ripon had picked up off the beach for most of the crew. "landing party ashore!" ripon snapped. "let's get going! this isn't an ordinary exploring party, and every hour counts." vii they stood on a bare expanse of pitted rock. the _sky maid_ had crashed on the outer slope of one of the craters, and the ground rose steadily to the jagged rim of the rocky bowl. other bare peaks were all about them, black teeth against the starry sky. the earth gleamed large and pale above them. the scene was bleak and silent, unutterably desolate and forlorn, and the little group of earthlings drew closer together. then ripon pointed up the ridge. "we'll go up there and look around. larry--you carry the radium detector. we mustn't let the exploring fever make us forget our main purpose in having come here." they toiled slowly up the slope. walking was difficult. due to the power of their earthly muscles on this planet of so much lighter gravity, they had a tendency to bound into the air at each step in spite of the heavy leaden soles on the feet of the space suits. gradually they learned the necessary muscular control, a sort of sliding step, and then they made better progress. ripon was some yards in the lead as they reached the rim of the crater. for a moment the tall scientist was silhouetted against the stars, then he abruptly dropped flat on the rock and motioned back to them to do the same. his voice was a faint whisper in the ear phones. "crawl up here slowly, one at a time. careful!" larry was the first to join him, lying flat on the rock at ripon's side. together they peered down into the crater. it's flat floor was swarming with some sort of queer animal! this particular crater was a small one, and the level floor was only some thirty yards below the rim. larry stared in amazement at the creatures who were coming to sit in long rows around a small mound in the center of the crater. he hardly knew whether to call them men or animals. they had the hard shell and articulated legs of an insect, but their faces had a semi-human appearance in spite of the pair of long antennae that grew out of their foreheads. their feet made a dry rustling sound as they clambered down over the rock, and they carried metal clubs with spiked heads. larry saw that they walked with four of their six limbs while the upper pair were equipped with three curved fingers each. on the top of each antenna was a round ball that glowed with a phosphorescent light. "i thought there wasn't any life on the moon!" larry whispered. ripon grinned at him through the duro-glass of his helmet. "you thought a lot of things that were wrong, young feller!" it was a weird scene in the cold pale light of the earth. some of the insect men came out of small, dome-shaped mounds that might have been houses. others came climbing down the far side of the crater. their glowing antennae bobbed in ceaseless motion, and there was a constant dry clicking. suddenly larry realized that the creatures were talking together! that meant that there was at least some atmosphere on the moon! enough to carry sound! perhaps it had a different composition than the atmosphere of the earth. it was certainly very thin, for the air in the control room had instantly escaped through the shattered side and the man with the broken helmet had smothered, but there was enough here to sustain these odd creatures. then ripon touched him on the arm, and larry saw something that a group of the insect-men were very ceremoniously carrying to the mound in the center of the crater. it was an ordinary metal chair of a very common and familiar earthly pattern, the sort of chair to be found in the cabins and mess rooms of any stratholiner. "one of those old ships must have reached the moon after all!" larry whispered. "that chair must be from the wreckage." "heaven help the survivors if those many-legged devils got hold of them!" "they can't be very strong, with the moon's gravity so slight," larry said. "that doesn't prove a thing. they can be light in frame and still very strong. think how many times his own weight our ant can carry, or how far a flea can jump." the chair had been placed in the center of the mound, and the insect-men drew back. now thin jets of steam or mist began to pour up around the mound, forming a foggy curtain that hid it. the mist only rose a little way, then dropped slowly down again to form an icy film on the cold rocks. the jets ceased, and mist vanished, and larry gibson stared in open-mouthed amazement. a dark-haired girl was standing erect on the crest of the mound! viii the girl was white-skinned and lovely, utterly different from the grotesque creatures who surrounded her. larry was crouching near enough to see her faintly smiling eyes, and the curve of her red lips, and the dark hair that fell to her waist behind. except for the grotesque metallic helmet on her head, and the fact that she wore no clothing except for a silver loin cloth, she might have been a girl of the sort to be seen along the elevated cross-walks of new york city. "do you see her too?" ripon whispered. "i do." "we can't both be that crazy, so she must really be there. but how she breathes in that atmosphere, and how she avoids freezing to death, is more than i can tell you." the ceremony had evidently some sort of a religious significance, for the insect-men were clicking rhythmically and were bowing down before the dark-haired girl. goddess of the moon! the girl's head-dress was a grotesque representation of an insect, set with jewels. at the tops of the flexible antennae were a pair of giant rubies. "boy! wouldn't i like to get my hands on those stones!" colton whispered from where he crouched on ripon's left. then larry noticed something else! a group of perhaps a hundred of the insect-men were moving swiftly forward between the ranks of their bowing comrades. this group carried shields as well as clubs, and they had the purposeful air of men with a grim and serious errand to perform. the girl was staring over the heads of the crowd with a distant and goddess-like manner, and did not notice the newcomers till they had almost reached her. then her eyes widened in alarm. she leaped up from her throne and burst into a torrent of shrill clicking. in an instant the crater was in a turmoil. the group of the heavily armed insect-men charged straight for the mound in the center. others flung themselves in their path, rallying to the defense of the goddess. there was a wild flurry of swinging clubs. the spiked heads clanged on metal shields, or cracked sharply on the brittle brown shells of the insect-men. the significance of the scene before him was still obscure to larry, but it was evident that some kind of a revolt had broken out. the rebels among the insect-men were outnumbered, but their metal shields gave them a big advantage and they were better organized. like a spear-point they drove straight through the confused mass of worshipers and surrounded the low knoll in the center. they brushed its defenders aside and swarmed up toward the dark-haired goddess. larry had already drawn his ray-gun, but ripon was the first to leap to his feet. "come on, young feller!" he roared. "that girl is the first human thing we've seen on the moon. we can't let her down. let's show those many-legged devils how an earth man can fight!" larry and ripon went down the slope of the crater in a series of bounding leaps. the milling insect-men opened before them, seeming to welcome these unexpected reinforcements. some of the rebels had already forced the struggling girl to her knees and were lashing her hands behind her back. a solid rank of them faced about with their round shields locked and a tossing fringe of spiked clubs waving atop the metal wall. * * * * * the two earthlings dove for the shield-wall with their guns flashing. larry ducked as one of the insect-men hurled a club which just missed his glass helmet, then pressed the trigger of his ray-gun. the murky beam of the rays stabbed into the shield, melted a hole through it in a fraction of a second, and struck down the man behind. the flashing ray-guns of the two adventurers ripped the shield-wall asunder. a wave of the loyal insect-men poured in behind them. larry shifted his ray-gun to his left hand, and snatched up a fallen club with his right. it was heavier than he had expected, a well balanced and efficient weapon. the hard brown shells of the rebels cracked like china under the smashing blows of his earthly muscles. then he bounded up on the mound and struck down the pair of rebels who held the girl. her wrists were now tied behind her. throwing an arm about the girl's shoulders, larry hastily faced about. ripon was a few yards away. a ring of his slain lay around him, but his weapons had been knocked from his hands and he was struggling in the grip of a pair of the insect-men. a third of the creatures was swinging a club to strike a blow at the scientist's glass helmet. larry instantly fired, the beam of the ray striking the arm that held the club and shearing it clean off at the shoulder. a viscous yellow liquid dripped out, and the creature dropped writhing on the rock while it clicked in pain. then colton and the two quartermasters came charging belatedly up, and the fight was over. the crater was dotted with the still forms of dead insect-men. larry noticed that their hard shells gleamed dully in the dim light. the surviving rebels had fled off across the far rim of the crater, and the rest of the throng had gone chasing after them. no one remained in the crater except the strange girl and the party from the _sky maid_. when larry had freed the girl's hands, she turned to the five earth-men and touched her forehead in a gesture of thanks. then she stepped across to touch some hidden spring on the far side of the mound, and a trap door opened in what had apparently been solid rock. the girl led the way down a narrow flight of stairs, motioning for the last man down to pull the trap closed behind them. they stood in a small chamber that had walls of roughly smoothed rock. it was evidently the work of men, for tool marks showed here and there. it was lighted by a green globe set in one wall. the globe appeared to be made of some kind of flexible glass, and it glowed with a faint greenish radiance that overcame the darkness enough to give the place a dim and eerie light. at one side of the room was an oval hole like a slanting well cut in the floor. beside it stood a pile of low, flat carts. they were about two feet wide by four feet long, and they were supported on axles bearing small wheels the diameter of a man's hand. the girl spoke to larry twice, first in the clicking talk of the insect-men and then in some soft and musical tongue that was unlike anything larry had ever heard. both times he shook his head. motioning for them to follow her, she put one of the low carts down near the rim of the hole and sat on it. then she gave a push with her hands--and vanished. "come on," larry said, raking another of the carts. colton stared at him. "down that hole?" he asked. "why not? we've got to find out what all this is about." * * * * * a second later larry gibson found himself shooting down into the interior of the moon by means of a sloping tunnel cut in the rock. a series of the greenish globes were set in the ceiling at intervals to give the rocky shaft a dim light. the wheels of the cart ran in two grooves cut in the floor, and he shot swiftly downward with a dull humming sound. larry was trying to estimate the speed of his downward movement. it was not so terribly fast, probably not really as fast as the nearness of the walls made it appear while they flashed by on either hand. the slope was a gentle one. although he had gathered considerable momentum, he had no feeling of the car being out of control. as the minutes passed, larry saw something else. the moisture that had been on the outside of his space suit from the air within the _sky maid_ had frozen into a white frost a few seconds after the breaking of the control room wall let the outer cold into the ship. now the frost was melting! they were getting into warmer regions as they went down. perhaps they were also running into a heavier atmosphere! larry held his hand up before him, and had a distinct feeling of pressure against it from the rush of air sweeping up to meet him. a minute later he had tested the atmosphere with the portable oxygen-gauge carried in the equipment pocket of any space suit. then he took off his helmet. the air was quite warm, and though still very thin it was definitely breathable. its clean, earthy odor was a pleasant contrast to the chemical product used over and over again inside the helmet of a space suit. a moment later he saw a brighter light ahead and realized that he had come to the bottom of the long shaft. they were in a square room whose walls were of polished gray stone. as larry got up from his cart and moved in aside from the landing platform, the girl gave him a friendly smile. she had already taken off her ornately jeweled head-dress and placed it in a metal cabinet fastened to the wall. completely without embarrassment, she tied a strip of gayly colored silk across her bare breasts. then she tossed her long hair back from her forehead and bound another strip of silk to keep it in place. "that was quite a ride," larry said. he had spoken in english, knowing that the girl would not understand but hoping the sound of the words would convey a generally friendly impression. she stared at him in startled surprise for a second. "it is much pleasanter than the upward trip," she said at last. "but--but you spoke in english!" larry gasped. "why shouldn't i? my father is a man from earth. i am diana staunton." ix as the others came sliding down into the room, larry gave each one a formal introduction to diana. the glow in the girl's eyes showed that she enjoyed their utter amazement. for a girl who had been born on the moon, even though of earthly parents, diana staunton had a great deal of poise and self-possession. "i am only a goddess to the sluggish minds of the insect-men," she explained in answer to ripon's question. "to our own people of the lost caverns i am simply the daughter of one of the nobles." "i knew your father thirty years ago," ripon said. "he has always told me that other men from earth would come some day." "your father can tell me most of the things i want to know, but i am wondering how you managed to survive up there on the surface where there is little or no air and it is always so cold." "i could not stay very long." from a fold in her loin cloth the girl drew out a tightly closed glass bottle that held some white tablets. "these contain oxygen mixed with some gases unknown on earth, the whole very strongly compressed into solid form. ten minutes after i swallow one, it is safe for me to go out on the surface. the effect lasts for about fifteen minutes." "pretty risky if anything delays you," larry said. diana shrugged, and her blue eyes grew somber. "someone has to do it. the loyalty of the insect-men is our greatest protection against the evil lords of gral-thala. this is the first time there has ever been anything like a revolt among the insect-men. i do not know what lies behind it, but it probably means trouble for us of the lost caverns." colton was the last to come down the rocky shaft. larry noticed that the second officer was ill at ease, disinclined to meet his eyes, and wondered if colton was ashamed of either his late entry into the fight or his fear of coming down into the moon's interior. hardly likely! from what he knew of gerald colton, the man was not likely to be ashamed of anything he did. they went through a maze of gray walled passages, still trending downward. once or twice larry thought he heard stealthy footsteps behind them, but there was no one in sight when he looked back. on several occasions they passed sentries wearing a makeshift armor, who saluted diana with long bladed swords. sometimes they spoke to her in english with a peculiar soft accent, sometimes in that strange tongue that diana had first used. larry noticed that these lunarians looked only slightly different from the peoples of earth. they had larger eyes, and a greater delicacy of feature. the principle distinguishing feature was their very thin legs. often they had wide shoulders and deep chests, but since they did not need strong supporting muscles in view of the moon's slight gravity their legs were thin and narrow. the sentries stared curiously at the earth-men in their bulky space suits, but the fact that the newcomers were with diana staunton seemed to be sufficient passport. they began to pass a greater number of people in the corridors, and finally they stepped through a heavily guarded gate and came to a vast cavern. the place was huge, extending for a good mile ahead of them and with a lofty roof lost in the shadows overhead. some of the gigantic columns that supported the roof were made of heavy stone blocks. others were natural rock that had been smoothed and polished. all over the floor of the cavern were narrow streets, and small cottages built of some queer composition that came in a rainbow of different colors, and little patches of some sort of green grass. a golden and rather misty light pervaded the whole cavern. square shafts of a brighter radiance darted down from above at irregular intervals, and wherever one of them struck the floor of the cavern there was a small patch of cultivated ground with long-leafed plants. "agriculture by chemical control!" ripon whispered in larry's ear. diana glanced back at them over her shoulder. "this is chotan, largest of the lost caverns," she said. "the council of elders is now in session, and it will be best that we go direct to them." "why do you call these the lost caverns?" larry asked. "because we who live here are outlaws, and the location of these vast caves is not known to the lords of gral-thala who rule the other side of the moon." "apparently not all the inhabitants of the moon are so friendly," ripon said. "if you came into the hands of the lords of gral-thala," she said grimly, "they would tear the skin from your bodies and use it to lace their scented golden boots!" large-eyed lunarians stared curiously at the earth-men as they hurried through the streets of the underground village. diana led them direct to a broad-beamed, red-roofed building that stood by itself in the center of the cavern. a dozen elderly men sat behind a long table of carved wood that was black and cracked with age. it was, larry realized, the first wooden thing he had seen since he landed on the moon. at either side of the chamber stood a squad of armored warriors. larry was staring at a curious device that was carved in the center of the table, and carried on a banner hung above the heads of the council, and inlaid in a white metal on the bluish steel shields of the guards. and then he recognized it! it was the crescent earth, the profile of the mother planet as seen from the moon when the americas were still in sunlight and the shadows of night were creeping across the atlantic. the sight of it made him home-sick. the crescent moon had been a religious symbol to many of the ancient races of earth, and it was fitting that the crescent earth should hold a similar place on this isolated satellite. it seemed to larry that diana was a trifle nervous over something. she had entered the council chamber with an air of confidence, lifting one arm in a stately gesture of greeting and asking the elders to accept the men from earth as friends and guests, but he sensed a degree of uncertainty behind her manner. in hasty phrases she told the council of the revolt of part of the insect-men, and of the timely arrival of the strangers from the mother planet. "and so i request that you accept these men into the brotherhood of the caverns!" she finished. the graybeards behind the long table nodded gravely, but before they could speak another voice rang but in a sharp challenge. "and i, o elders of chotan, demand that these interlopers be put to death in accordance with the ancient law of the caverns concerning unwanted strangers!" x the speaker was a fair-haired young man in a green cloak. he looked more like an earthling than a lunarian, with his sturdy legs and small eyes. he pointed an accusing finger straight at larry in a dramatic gesture, and diana wheeled to face him with anger in her voice. "you talk very loudly of the ancient laws, xylon, for a newcomer only recently taken into the brotherhood because you fled as an outlaw from the lords of gral-thala!" "i did not make the laws!" xylon retorted. "the death penalty for strangers has not been strictly enforced for many years--or _you_ would not now be alive! it is up to the decision of the elders!" the council chamber was in an uproar, with shouted phrases flung back and forth. larry laid a hand on the butt of his ray-gun. a keen-eyed officer of the guards caught the gesture, and instantly larry found a pair of rifles directed at his chest. at least, they looked like some sort of compressed air rifles. they had fiber stocks, and long barrels, and a cylindrical magazine beneath the barrel. then a deep voice dominated the tumult as a red-haired man in full armor forced his way through to the forefront of the crowd. "the girl is right, o elders and members of the brotherhood!" he boomed. "xylon talks like a fool. i, pyatt of kagan, urge that the strangers from earth be accepted. let xylon remain among us for a little while longer before he attempts to dominate our councils!" larry could sense the swing of sentiment in their favor, could feel the lessening of the tension. the man called xylon shrugged and turned away. then the council took a formal vote, waving the ancient death penalty and allowing the strangers the freedom of the caverns. one of the elders near the end of the table rose to his feet. he wore the typical black robes of the council, but as larry looked closely at the man's lined face he saw the resemblance to diana and knew that he was looking at lester staunton. "since these men are from what was once my own land," staunton said, "i will make them comfortable in my house for the duration of their stay here." as the crowd began to stream out of the council-chamber, the red-headed man pushed his way through to ripon and larry. he was unusually burly and big-thewed for a lunarian, and though his face was marred by a pair of old scars he had a wide and cheerful smile. "welcome to the cavern of chotan!" he boomed. "i am pyatt of kagan, military commander of all the armed forces of the caverns. later i will want to talk to you about that revolt of the insect-men, which is something that has not happened before. also, we will drink a goblet of wine together." "then you have wines on the moon?" ripon asked, visibly brightening. "aye, wines of many sorts. though my own taste runs more to the strong-waters that fire the blood and set a man's head to spinning." "i can see that you and i have a lot in common!" ripon grinned. * * * * * just before they left, xylon came up to shake hands with larry. "no hard feelings, earthling!" he said. "it is just that the safety and liberties of the caverns are very precious to one like myself, who has so recently become an outlaw, and i did not think that we should take any chances." "that's all right," larry said shortly. now that he saw xylon at really close range, he realized that the man was older than he had thought. his appearance of youth vanished when you saw the many fine wrinkles in his face and the weariness around his eyes. he had a dissolute appearance. xylon might be sincere in his bid for friendship, but larry felt that there was something serpentine and evil about the man. with diana and her father and a few others, they walked along one of the many winding paths of chotan. larry noticed that the chemically grown plants had no scent at all. the motionless, warm air was suffused with a misty and golden light. small, neat houses built in various bright colors stood amid their plots of grass. it was a strange scene to earthly eyes, that cavern far below the moon's chill surface, but it was a pleasant spot in its way. the women they passed along the walks were dressed like diana, in a gayly colored loin-cloth with a narrow band across the breasts. most of the men wore a loose, colored cloak in addition to the single garment. only a few were armed. larry had taken off the right mitten of his space suit to shake hands with pyatt and xylon in the council chamber. several times he had started to replace the mitten, but something had always distracted him and he was still carrying it in his left hand. now, as he happened to give the mitten a shake, a small insect of a blood-red color fell out and landed on the walk. it looked something like a miniature scorpion. larry had only a hasty glimpse before pyatt of kagan leaped forward and crushed the crawling thing with the heavy sole of his sandal. "that was a _spanto_!" he said. "their bite means death within ten seconds. i wonder how it came to be in your glove!" "i wonder myself!" larry said grimly, looking across the field at the green-cloaked figure of xylon, who had turned off on another of the branching walks. it would not have been hard for xylon to have dropped the insect in his glove! as if in answer to his thought, diana spoke quietly: "i do not trust xylon any farther than i can see him, friend larry! there is something unclean in his eyes when he looks at me." "if he looks at you too much while i'm here i'll break his jaw!" larry said. the girl looked up at him with a sudden smile that was also a challenge. "i begin to understand why my father has always said that i would like the men from earth better than the lunarians!" xi they sat in professor staunton's laboratory, a square chamber where earthly equipment taken from the wreck of his space-ship was mingled with typically lunarian furniture and equipment. the walls were light blue, of that polished composition resembling bakelite that was used for building in the caverns. the walls were about ten feet high, and they ended in an ornamental cornice without any ceiling or roof at all. overhead there was a glow of misty light, and far above the rocky top of the cavern. "why should we need roofs?" diana said in reply to larry's surprised comment. "here in these caverns there is neither rain nor snow nor wind, nor any change in temperature at all. the walls give privacy, and there is no need for anything else." ripon was bending over a table on which staunton had spread a large map of the moon. the cavern of chotan was indicated by a red dot, and larry saw that there were a dozen others scattered around within a radius of a few hundred miles. "our space-cruiser was wrecked near one of the entrances to this cavern when we landed here thirty years ago," staunton said. "as you have guessed, it was the inability to land safely with rockets, in a practically airless atmosphere where helicopters were useless, that smashed us. as you did, we had fortunately put on space suits before trying to land. our ship was too badly wrecked for any chance of return." "but how have you succeeded in getting all these people to learn english?" ripon asked. "they knew that language before i came! but it is best that i give you a hasty outline of lunarian history. the simple-minded but husky insect-men were the aboriginal inhabitants of the moon. long ã¦ons ago, while most of the people of earth were living crudely in caves and using chipped stones for tools and weapons, an isolated people developed a high civilization in what i have roughly identified as the region of the himalayas. a series of great earthquakes destroyed their civilization, but a large number of them escaped and came to the moon in some kind of a space-ship. here they found, in those days, a small planetary body that had a thin but breathable air. they founded a civilization on the other side of the moon where it is always sunny, and called it gral-thala. those were pleasant days, if the old legends are to be believed, the golden age of lunarian civilization." for a moment staunton paused. all those in the room, including the lunarians who had been familiar with this tale since childhood, hung intently on his words. the broad face of pyatt of kagan was somber and moody as he sat bent forward with the scabbard of his sword resting across his armored knees. "as the centuries passed, the atmosphere continued to thin," staunton went on, "so the ancients took care to preserve what was left. gral-thala is in the fertile part of the moon, and lies in a vast valley completely surrounded by a lofty mountain range. by means of the superior engineering knowledge of the ancients, they built a lofty wall or barrier along the crest of the range so that its top is miles above the level of the valley floor. they then sucked all the air within the great barrier. gral-thala itself thus lies in a great pool of air surrounded by the ranges and the barrier. on the rest of the moon, as here, air only remains in deep crevices and caverns like this." "but these caves were a great labor in themselves..." ripon began. * * * * * "originally these caverns were built as outposts of gral-thala, built here because of their nearness to valuable mineral deposits. people came out from the sunlit cities within the great barrier to put in a tour of duty in the caverns. again life on the moon had reached a pleasant equilibrium. and then came the great disaster! some two centuries ago a group of several hundred outlaws fleeing from earth came here in a big space-ship." "the _mercury_!" larry exclaimed. "exactly. those men and women who came from earth were few in comparison to the population of the moon, but they were cruel and ruthless and they had weapons of war. the peaceful lunarians had at that time no weapons at all, for they had no need for them. within a few months the invaders made themselves lords of all gral-thala! that was when english, the language of the invaders, came to be spoken by everybody on the moon as well as the softer tongue of the lunarians themselves. a few of the hardier folk in gral-thala fled to these caverns as outlaws. the invaders made only half-hearted attempts to come after them, and with the passing of the years the location of these refuges has been forgotten by people living within the great barrier. that is why these places are now known as the lost caverns." "and the invaders still rule?" "their descendants are still lords of gral-thala. cruel and ruthless they always were, decadent and dissolute they have now become as well, but they still rule the sunny valley that was the pride of the ancient lunarians. they hold the power, and they are aided by a few groups among the people of gral-thala who have sacrificed their honor to fawn upon their masters. our spies, who penetrate beyond the barrier, tell us that before long there will come a day when the people are ready for revolt--but the time is not yet." "but surely!" said pyatt of kagan, his deep voice breaking in on the low monotone in which staunton had spoken, "surely our visitors will return to earth, now that interplanetary travel has become possible, and bring us the warriors and equipment to storm the high palaces of the tyrants of gral-thala!" "i should think that the confederation of earth would send help, particularly since the original invaders were outlaws from that planet," staunton said. "how about it, friend ripon? how are conditions back on earth at this time?" ripon straightened up and shook his shoulders. the glow in his eyes faded away, and the lines in his face deepened once more. "the lunarians can look for no help from earth until one thing is accomplished," he said. "i have been letting scientific enthusiasm make me lose sight of our reason for coming here. how are conditions on earth, you ask? i can tell you in a single sentence. unless we of earth very quickly get a new supply of radium salts suitable for use with the riesling method, in a few weeks we all perish!" "i do not understand." in a few hasty phrases ripon sketched the development of the terrible plague that was so swiftly robbing earth of its inhabitants. at the end staunton leaned back in his chair. "such salts are available on the moon in ample quantity," he said slowly, and something in the quality of his voice robbed the words of the reassurance they would otherwise have held, "but--they are all located well within the area of the great barrier. and the lords of gral-thala would never let you have even a single milligram!" "then there's only one thing to be done!" larry stood up and began to peel off his space suit. "if someone will show me the way, i'll go into gral-thala and bring out as much of the radiatron extract as i can carry." "and i will go with you!" boomed pyatt of kagan. "by gorton and laila, mythical gods of the moon, it will take more than a few of those cold-eyed tyrants to stop us!" xii time was the thing that counted. the remorseless pressure of minutes and hours that passed and could never be recalled! the tyrants who lorded it over gral-thala had no weapons more deadly than the electronic guns that had been common on earth two hundred years before. a battalion of troops from earth, wearing armor of dura-steel and carrying ray-guns, could probably have overthrown the invaders very quickly. but--there was no time! the toll of the gray death was increasing with each passing hour, back there on the good green planet, and the little group on the moon would have to do what they could without hope of assistance. they could not pause for proper preparations or careful planning. it was only half an earth day after they had landed on the moon, time enough to snatch a few hours' sleep, that larry found himself moving up toward the surface in a slowly crawling cable car. chotan already lay behind and far below them, and the oxygen indicator fastened to the sleeve of the space suit showed him that the air was thinning rapidly. colton and pyatt were with him. all three of them wore space suits of the lunarian patterns, that had a metal helmet with glass windows at the front and sides, for the difference in design of the space suits from the _sky maid_ would have made them too conspicuous. pyatt had come along because he had often penetrated beyond the great barrier in disguise, and a second lunarian was waiting for them up on the surface. ripon had also wanted to come, the idea of this daring raid setting the old, reckless light danging in his eyes. finally he agreed that one of the leaders of the _sky maid_ expedition had better remain in the caverns in case of disaster to the raiders. "that's the hell of getting along in years, young feller!" he rumbled regretfully. "there's nothing i'd like better than to penetrate the barrier with you and pull the whiskers off the tyrants in their lair. a quick wit and a ready weapon! but i couldn't keep up with you younger men if the going gets hot--though i never thought the day would come when i'd hear crispin gillingwater ripon admit a thing like that!--and you'd better go on without me." "we'll be back soon," larry said. ripon snorted. "if you're not back in five days i'm coming after you with the crew of the _sky maid_ and as many of the folk of the caverns as i can get to come along!" * * * * * the cavern of chotan was in that part of the moon which is sometimes in sunlight and sometimes in darkness, and it was night when they came out of the tunnel. the moisture on the space suit instantly froze into a fine white frost. a few lunarian sentries waited for them there, and nearly a hundred of the insect-men. with them were two carts that had high wheels and springs, something like an old-fashioned earthly buckboard. for a few moments, pyatt talked to the leaders of the insect-men in their clicking tongue. the glowing knobs atop their antennae bobbed up and down as they nodded their heads in understanding. then pyatt motioned colton into one of the carts and climbed in beside him. another lunarian, slender even in the bulky space suit, climbed into the second cart beside larry. pyatt swung his right arm forward. a score of the insect-men instantly scampered ahead as scouts, spreading out like the spokes of a fan. small parties went out to either flank. the rest, about thirty to each cart, gripped the trailing ropes and darted ahead with the wagons following behind them. they went at almost incredible speed, the four legs of each giving them a steady drive. even though the insect-men were picking the smooth stretches of the rock and were evidently following a definite though unmarked trail, it was rough going. the light wagons jolted and banged as they whizzed along, and larry had to cling to the rail with both hands to keep from being thrown off. "is all the way as rough as this?" he panted to his companion. "better soon," the lunarian said shortly. after about three hours they turned into a smooth and level road. it wound up and down over the rolling rocky plain, evidently a highway of great age. occasionally they passed crumbling ruins beside it. larry supposed that the road and the ruins dated back to those very ancient days before the lunarians withdrew their shrinking supply of air within the great barrier. now that the road was smooth, the insect-men pulled the carts along at a whizzing pace. the light wheels whirred as the wagons shot ahead. the scene, larry reflected, was like a nightmare. all about him were the chill mountains and craters of the moon, lifting their jagged peaks against the cold stars. ahead of the speeding wagon ran the toiling cluster of insect-men, their hard shells gleaming faintly in the starlight and their glowing antennae bobbing in a swift rhythm as they ran. the treads of the wheels rattled on the rocky surface of the road, the horny feet of the insect-men made a steady scraping sound as they ran. the two men seated in the cart ahead were monstrous and misshapen figures in their space suits. larry's companion had remained sullenly silent, in spite of several efforts to start a conversation. this was unusual in one of the normally pleasant and talkative lunarians, but larry had not thought much about it. now, as he made some remark about the speed of their progress, he heard a low chuckle and in his earphones sounded the voice of diana staunton. "yes, larry, we travel fast. in a few days we will enter the zone of sunlight." "_you_," he exclaimed. "this expedition is too dangerous. i would never have let you come if i had known." "why else do you think i kept so silent until now, when it is too late to send me back?" she asked, and though he could not see her face through the glass of her helmet in the darkness he could tell that she was smiling. "neither would pyatt of kagan or my father have let me come. i stole the space suit of the young man who was to accompany you and left him locked in a storeroom." "you will have to remain outside when we go within the barrier." "where you go, i go," she said with finality. * * * * * sunrise on the moon! there was no sudden onslaught of light as on the earth, for the moon day was twenty-eight days long! yet, as they progressed steadily toward the horizon, the moon's rotation brought the edge of the sun gradually into sight above the barren horizon, and as the days passed, a blinding glare of light swept in upon them and they moved the dark glasses into place in front of the windows of their space-suit helmets. the temperature rose rapidly with the coming of the two weeks' sunlight, and before long the frost on the space suits was melting. then, stretching along the crest of a mighty mountain range ahead, larry saw a lofty gray wall that went so high its top was almost lost from view above. they had come within sight of the great barrier! xiii several times along the way they had been halted by sentry-patrols from some of the other outlaw caverns, who warned them that an unusual number of strong parties of troops from gral-thala were roaming the waste-land. however, they came without incident to a tiny outlaw hide-out. this was within half a mile of one of the caverns that was under the domination of the lords of gral-thala. two hours later larry and the others stood with a score of other people, in an air-lock in a great tunnel that led through the mountain range and into gral-thala. all these people were residents of the valley returning from a tour of duty in the caverns, and the four outlaws from chotan had been furnished with forged documents that gave them the same identity. the space suits had been removed and hung on numbered racks. the three men wore the tight tunics and loose trousers that were the customary dress within the valley, as distinguished from the loin cloth and cloak of the cavern outlaws. this was fortunate, for the trousers concealed the sturdy earthly legs of larry and colton which would have stood out in sharp contrast to the typical spindly shanks of the otherwise well-built lunarians. diana wore a loose robe, with tight wrappings concealing her hair and a thin veil over her face. a heavy guard of soldiers checked the papers of all the travelers before they let them through. these troops wore light armor, and each carried an electronic gun slung from his shoulder. the officers were evidently of the invaders, cruel-eyed men cast in the same mold as xylon. the men were lunarians, generally of a rather debased type and drawn from among the worst element in the population. a heavy-featured trooper glanced at larry's papers in a perfunctory manner, then handed them back. "all right, all right!" he growled. "get along. don't block the way!" the tunnel ended on the inner slope of the mountain range surrounding gral-thala, where many cars ran down the steep incline into the city below. it was a pleasant and smiling land that larry gibson saw before him, a sunlit and fertile valley so vast that even the lofty range on the far side was invisible over the horizon. towns and villages dotted the plain. farms lay among their fertile fields. a small river wound through the center. directly below him, clustered against this part of the valley wall, was a mighty city. "this is the city of pandonaria," diana's voice came softly through her veil, "capital city of gral-thala." the city itself was a terraced mass of colored buildings cut by many streets and interspersed with gardens. several towering palaces of white and gold, the abodes of the lords of gral-thala, dominated the lower buildings. it was good to see real sunlight again! to see birds flying overhead! to smell the odor of flowers and growing things, in contrast to the flat and motionless air of the lost caverns! it was hard to believe that this pleasant spot was really the scene of such a brutal tyranny as he had been told. then they rounded a bend in the sloping road and came to an abrupt halt. * * * * * at the side of the road stood a sort of gallows, made of strips of a ruddy metal bolted together. from it hung the nude body of a young lunarian girl. she was suspended by her bound wrists high above her head, and her feet swung far off the ground. from the clotted blood at her bound wrists, and the way the eternal sun of the valley had burned her skin, larry knew that she had hung there many hours. the girl was far gone but she was not yet dead. at intervals her drooping head moved feebly from side to side. a pair of armored soldiers leaned on their weapons below the gallows. around the girl's neck hung a sign, lettered in the archaic english script that was the official language of gral-thala: "this girl dared strike one of the nobles of gral-thala who condescended to notice her." fierce anger filled larry gibson's heart, a consuming anger that set his clenched fists shaking. for some reason he thought of diana. though she stood only a few feet away from him, he visioned her hanging from such a gallows if the dissolute tyrants of this land ever stormed the lost caverns. then pyatt of kagan laid a hand on his arm. "careful, my friend!" the lunarian hissed. "your anger shows on your face, and that is bad. we cannot help that poor girl now. come!" they went down into the city, avoiding the broad boulevards and keeping to the narrower streets where the poorer people were. as they passed by the base of one of the high palaces, they came to the body of a girl who lay crushed on the stones and had evidently been thrown or jumped from one of the upper windows. an aged man stood astride the body, leaning back and shaking his skinny fists at the white and gold bulk of the palace above him. "woe be upon the lords of gral-thala!" he screamed in his shrill old voice. "triple woe upon the tyrants and upon the decadent parasites who fawn upon them. evil lies in wait for ye, lurking in your white palaces with your guards and your harlots! the hour of doom is not far away! the vengeance of gorton and laila may be long delayed, but it comes in the end! woe to the lords of gral-thala!" an uneasy, sullen, murmuring crowd was gathered around the ragged old man although they left a broad circle of vacant space around him and the body of his granddaughter. a few troopers of the garrison were making a half-hearted effort to push the crowd back. they were uncomfortable in the face of the unspoken but obvious hatred of the throng. larry and the others prudently kept to the back of the crowd. even so, they were near enough to see what happened next. silver bells rang sharply, and lackeys called an arrogant summons to clear the way. in the midst of a circle of armed guards, porters carried a swaying gilt litter. on the cushions of the litter rested a man. it was one of the nobles of gral-thala, a perfumed degenerate in silken robes with a rouged and painted face. for a moment he stared at the crowds with his arrogantly scornful eyes. then, as he saw the old man beside the girl's body and heard the curses he was shouting, his patrician face was distorted into a sneering frown. the noble snarled an order, and one of his guards lifted his electronic rifle. there was a flash of blinding light! a sudden clap of miniature thunder, and a smell of ozone. the man-made lightning bolt struck the old man in the chest and knocked him sprawling across the body of his granddaughter. with a faint smile the noble leaned back on the cushions of the litter and waved languidly to his porters to move on again. "let us go, my friends!" pyatt whispered hoarsely. "we cannot right all the wrongs of gral-thala at one stroke, and our mission is the most important thing at the moment." xiv they were walking slowly down one of the quiet streets of the city, a quarter where there were few guards and little chance of discovery. larry noticed that all the windows were equipped with heavy shutters, so that the light could be closed out when the inhabitants of this land desired to sleep. it was a place of unending daylight, always turned toward the sun, where darkness never came. colton was more interested in the metal rails that ran along the walks on the outside of the buildings. "my lord!" he said softly, "these are gold!" "of course," pyatt of kagan said absently, "gold is one of the most common metals in gral-thala. our problem is the matter of the radium salts. i happen to know that they are stored in small boxes made of ura-lead, in one of the government storehouses. it would be easier to steal some direct from the mines, but there is no time for that because of the question of proper packing and handling. we must risk everything on a bold attempt to raid the warehouses." "suits me," larry said quietly. just then diana gripped him by the arm and jerked him back against the wall of the nearest building. "look there!" she hissed. another litter was passing along the cross street just ahead of them. this litter went in evident haste, with lackeys swinging whips to clear the path and the passenger bending forward to urge his bearers to greater haste. the man who rode in the litter was xylon! the four outlaws stared at each other in grim and ominous surprise. there had been no doubt of the identity of the man who had just passed within a few yards of them. "but what does _that_ mean?" larry gasped. "it means that i have been a fool!" pyatt snarled. "xylon is evidently no outlaw who came to the caverns to seek shelter, but a spy sent out by the lords of gral-thala. now i understand the reason for that revolt among the insect-men! he must have stirred it up in an attempt to kidnap diana here because of her hold over those simple creatures. now the location of the lost caverns is at last known to the tyrants, and there will be an attack in force." "and xylon knows that we are here in pandonaria!" diana exclaimed. "which means that all our lives hang by a thread no heavier than a woman's hair! we must get under cover at once! then we will send word back to the caverns by secret radio, that they may prepare for an assault. after that we will plan an attempt on the radium salts." the outlaws of the lost caverns had certain confederates within the city, and they now took refuge in the house of a small merchant who was a distant cousin of pyatt. larry watched as pyatt and the merchant crouched over the sending set concealed in a small closet built in the thickness of one of the walls, the arkon-bulbs flashing as they sent the warning to chotan to be spread to the other caverns. at last pyatt straightened up. "at least that is done," he said. "now we will wait two hours, which will be the time of the third meal. there will be few people on the streets, and the warehouse guards will be drowsy, and we will have our best chance." * * * * * pyatt and colton had gone somewhere else in the house, and larry sat with diana in a small room whose windows looked out on the green fields beyond the city. the girl had loosened her blue veil so that it hung in soft folds about her chin. "this is the first time in my life i have been anywhere but in the caverns and on the waste-land," she said moodily. "this valley of gral-thala is a pleasant place." "you would like earth even better." "i suppose i would. will you take me back to that earth of yours when you return, larry?" "not until the gray death is overcome! i would not want to take any chance of it striking you down." "do you love me, larry?" she asked, without either coquetry or embarrassment. "i guess i do. of course, we've only known each other for a few hours--but i guess i do." "i am glad," she said simply. the two hours passed, and pyatt came striding back into the room. they had given him one of the ray-guns brought ashore from the _sky maid_, and he carried it thrust in his girdle close to his hand. "it is time to go," he said. "we must make our attempt now, win or lose. where is colton?" "i thought he was with you." "haven't seen him in two hours!" a hasty search of the merchant's house and small grounds revealed no trace of the missing officer. pyatt stood glowering blackly and pulling at his chin. "i don't like it," he said. "yet, if the soldiers had taken him, they would have come for us as well." a different thought was running through larry's mind, a grim and unpleasant suspicion. he was remembering colton's past history ... his general sullenness ... the greed that he had shown throughout the entire expedition. he was also remembering that he had seen colton in deep conversation with xylon a few hours before they had left chotan. "i am afraid," he said bitterly, "that colton has sold us out to xylon and the lords of gral-thala for promise of reward. we had better get out of this house right away, before...." larry never finished that sentence. there was a roaring crash, and the door was shattered by the impact of a pair of electronic bolts fired by the soldiers who had crept up to the house. armored figures came pouring in the door! others were at the back. pyatt of kagan, fighting furiously, went down under press of numbers. larry managed to get his ray-gun up and fire one blast that crumpled a charging trooper in mid stride, but then half a dozen gripped him and the brief fight was over. they were taken! xv the hands of the three prisoners were tied behind their backs, and nooses were placed around their necks. then they were dragged out into the street. the merchant was not taken prisoner at all, simply killed out of hand with the body left lying across his shattered threshold. a thin-lipped, hooked-nosed officer spat in larry's face as he was led past the body of the dead merchant. "not for you will there be such an easy ending," he sneered. "an example is to be made. you will die before crowds, in the plaza of the four virgins, and the process will be a slow one." they were surrounded by a double rank of guards as they were led along by the nooses about their necks. all three had been stripped to a loin cloth, and the sun was scorching hot upon larry's back and shoulders. at least, he thought thankfully, diana's long black hair gave her some protection. there were jeers and hoots as they were led through the crowded streets, but most of them came from members of the tyrant class and from the few over-dressed and foppish lunarians who aped their masters. the mass of the people gazed in stony and somehow sympathetic silence. into one of the tall white-and-gold palaces of the lords of gral-thala they were taken, and down into stone-walled dungeons far underground. they were placed in a single cell. they stood with their backs against the walls, arms out-stretched and wrists lashed to rings set in the stone, able to move little more but their heads. then, for a while, they were left alone. "well," said larry with grim humor, "here we are." "so it seems!" pyatt's voice was rasping and bitter. "i am indeed a fool for ever having allowed xylon to live in the cavern of chotan, in spite of the kind-hearted ruling of the elders." "what will they do with us?" larry asked. pyatt hesitated, licking his lips and glancing at diana, but the girl answered for herself. "we shall probably be skinned alive in the public square, dying slowly under the torture," she said. "it is the favorite punishment of the tyrants for those they particularly hate." it was a day of triumph for the lords of gral-thala. xylon's triumphant return with the information that would lead to the wiping out of the always troublesome outlaws of the lost caverns, and the capture of the three prisoners, made it a holiday for the ruling class of the valley. they came in hundreds to see the three captives. the famous military leader of the outlaws ... the girl who was considered a goddess by the primitive insect-men of the waste-land ... the the stranger from that distant earth whence their own ancestors had fled. they came to throng the dungeon corridor and stare in at the trio of captives spread-eagled against the wall of the cell. larry watched them through the barred door. for hours on end there were always a few of them in the corridor, staring and jeering. foppish men in white and gold with their curled hair laden with scent. haughty and jewel-clad women whose sharp featured faces held even more cruelty than their male companions. many were attended by lunarian slave girls whose fettered hands held their trains up from the floor, and the bare backs of the slave girls were usually marked with the crossing red marks of whips. larry knew, now, that the tales told in the caverns about the cruelty of the lords of gral-thala had not been exaggerated. * * * * * xylon came to see them after a while, opening the cell door and walking in to stand sneering at them with his thumbs hooked in his jeweled girdle. "colton sold you out for the promise of wealth and a place in the ranks of our nobles," he said. "it will be a pleasure to watch you die." for a moment he walked over to stand in front of diana who looked back at him with an expressionless face. "you are not a bad-looking wench. i can take you for one of my slaves if you wish to be agreeable." "i would rather go with an insect-man!" the girl said with calm scorn. xylon shrugged and turned away. "so be it. at that, it would be a pity to rob the crowd of the pleasure of watching you die." as near as larry could judge it, the equivalent of an earthly day had passed before they were taken out of the cell. they were given an hour to ease their stiffened muscles. then the guards bound their wrists before them, and by the trailing ends of the ropes led them out of the dungeons and through the streets to a broad open space just at the foot of the inclines that led down from the tunnel by which they had entered the city. the plaza of the four virgins, named from the four gigantic statues of polished stone that had been placed at its corners in some long ago day before the invaders came, was a vast paved space in front of an ancient temple that was now used as a government building. in front of the temple a metal scaffold had been erected with two heavy uprights and a cross-piece. the rulers of gral-thala were sprawled in cushioned ease on the steps of the temple, well guarded by their troops, and the floor of the plaza was filled with the common people of the city. these latter were present in great number, a silent and ominously sullen mass. the three prisoners were stood in a row on the scaffold. their hands were raised above their heads, and the ropes made fast to the cross-piece so that they were held tautly erect and motionless. sharp laughter and occasional jests came from the nobles and their women clustered on the steps, but as larry looked out over the crowd in the plaza he saw faces that were grim and intent. the threat of the electronic rifles of the guards would keep the unarmed mob from trying to aid the prisoners, but there was no doubt where their sympathies lay. glancing up at the tyrants grouped on the temple steps, larry suddenly saw colton. the former second officer of the _sky maid_ now wore the white and gold robes of a noble of gral-thala. xylon kept his promises! colton flushed uncomfortably when his glance met larry's grim stare, quickly turning his eyes away. he looked uncomfortable and ill-at-ease. larry glanced at him again a few minutes later and saw colton staring at diana's bound and motionless form with definite misery in his eyes. one of the nobles stepped to the front and began to address the crowd. shrill yells and catcalls drowned his words. the guards raged, but the men in the front ranks of the mob were discreetly silent and they could not reach or identify the culprits in the ranks behind. many of the nobles were muttering nervously among themselves, showing definite signs of fear. "there was never a scene like this in pandonaria before!" pyatt of kagan exulted from where he was bound beside larry. "we may die, but our death is likely to stir the people to such a pitch that the revolt will soon come!" xylon, for all his faults, was made of sterner stuff than most of his fellow nobles. he sneered down at the muttering crowd, then signed to the officer commanding the guards. "pay no attention to the dogs," he commanded sharply. "give these three a taste of the whip before the flayers rip the skins from their bodies. begin with the girl." a heavy-featured man in a black tunic stepped up to diana, pulling the lash of a heavy whip through his hands to test its suppleness. before he could strike there came a sudden interruption. a small car had been speeding down the incline from the tunnel entrance and now a gilded officer of the invaders leaped out and came running across the plaza. "great news, oh xylon and nobles of gral-thala!" he shouted. "one of our patrols has captured a great force of outlaw warriors and their insect allies, who were moving in to raid our nearer caves. some more earthlings are with them!" "good, by gorton!" exulted xylon. "we will delay the execution of these three till the others are here to see it." larry's last hope was gone. he had remembered ripon's promise to come after them if they had not returned quickly, and in the back of his mind had been the thought that the doughty scientist might yet accomplish a rescue in some way. now that hope had vanished. he sighed, and beside him diana sagged visibly in her bonds. "guess it's the end," she said. "good bye, larry!" xvi from where he stood on the scaffold, larry could see a number of the big transport cars coming down the incline. they were crowded with prisoners and guards, and he caught the gleam of the hard brown shells of insect-men. once unloaded from the cars, they all formed up in columns and came quickly across the plaza. behind the front rank of guards larry saw ripon, and some of the men from the _sky maid_, and many whom he recognized as leaders among the lunarians of the lost caverns. it was all over now. the prisoners trudged along like beaten men, utterly disheartened although they were but thinly guarded. the nobles grouped on the temple steps were laughing loudly, all their nervousness of a moment ago gone before the reassurance of this victory. then, as the prisoners were halted in the plaza directly before the double line of soldiers that guarded the temple, an officer beside xylon leaned forward to point down at the commander of the patrol that was bringing in the prisoners. "that man wears the insignia of an ensign of the first rank," he shouted, "but there is no such man in the ranks of our officers! there is treachery here!" before the man's words had died away, crispin gillingwater ripon had whipped a ray-gun out from under his cloak and smashed the officer's chest into a charred pulp with the deadly blast of the rays. in an instant the plaza was a wild turmoil. the pretended prisoners drew their hidden weapons. those who had been masquerading as guards, using the armor they had taken from the soldiers they surprised and overwhelmed when they stormed the tunnel entrance, threw the uniforms aside and charged into the fight. the rippling crashes of the electronic guns rang out again and again, the murky flashes of the earth-men's death rays stabbed into the fray, and a clicking horde of insect-men charged home with their spiked clubs swinging. [illustration: _in an instant the plaza was in a wild turmoil.... the rippling crashes of the electronic guns rang out again and again. the murky flashes of earth-men's death rays stabbed into the fray, and a clicking horde of insect-men charged home with spiked clubs swinging._] for the first few moments the fighting centered around the scaffold. xylon led a charge of picked men down to seize and keep the three prisoners bound there, ripon came storming through to effect a rescue. when the mã©lee was over, larry and pyatt were free and xylon had retreated back to the temple steps, but diana had disappeared. "we got the rest of the crew from the _sky maid_ and all the men we could collect at chotan and crept up to the tunnel mouth," ripon panted as he thrust a ray-gun into larry's hand. "we took the guards by surprise and killed them before they could warn the valley behind." it had been a daring raid, and at first its sheer audacity had carried it near to complete victory. now the superior numbers of the guards were beginning to tell, and more of the troops of gral-thala came pounding up at the double. the crash of the electronic guns became a steady roar, and bodies were thickly strewn about the blood-smeared surface of the plaza of the four virgins. then, with a long-drawn and sullen shout, the mass of watching lunarians flung themselves on the soldiery. hundreds died, but the others tore the guards to pieces with their naked hands and then snatched up their weapons. the people of gral-thala had risen against their oppressors at last! * * * * * with the uprising of the people, the battle ceased to be a fight and became a massacre. the troops were selling their lives, as dearly as they could, but thousands more citizens carrying improvised weapons were pouring in from every street and the thing was only a matter of time. then, in the rear of the panic stricken mass of nobles who were fleeing into the temple to make a last stand, while the vengeful pack bayed at their heels, larry suddenly saw xylon! the tyrant was standing beside one of the great stone columns that supported the portico of the temple. he held the half naked body of diana before him as a shield. the girl's hands were still tied and she could not pull away. a swarm of insect-men, who were bounding up the temple steps, halted as they saw xylon hold an electronic pistol to the head of their goddess. "keep back or she dies!" he shouted. "she is hostage for our safety!" larry lifted his ray-gun, and then lowered it again with a groan. he dared not shoot with diana's struggling body in the way. nor had he any doubt that xylon would kill the girl without compunction if attacked. xylon began to edge back toward the temple door. larry still stood indecisive, the others seemed frozen in their places. then another white-and-gold figure darted out from the temple behind xylon. the renegade colton twisted the gun from xylon's hand! the thing was over in an instant. xylon released diana and turned on colton with an oath, and the girl instantly dropped to the ground. steel flickered in the sunlight. xylon drove a long knife home between colton's ribs, but before he could dart away larry's ready ray-gun struck him down with its blast. his quivering body rolled slowly down the steps till the insect-men reached it and literally tore it into bloody bits. xvii the dying colton was sinking fast. his face was gray as he looked up with a faint smile at the others who were grouped around him. "i never was much good," he said faintly. "guess it just wasn't in the blood. gold always led me into twisted paths, and i couldn't resist xylon's offer. but it did something to me when i saw the way those devils were going to torture the girl. well--i guess i paid my debt at the end." "you've paid it--and you'll live to go back to earth with us," larry said. colton shook his head, his eyes glazing. "don't try to kid me. i'm cashing in my checks," he said--and died. now that it was all over, larry felt very tired. he put one arm around diana, and leaned back against the base of the column. there was still some intermittent fighting going on where mobs of vengeful lunarians had cornered some of their oppressors, but the victory was won. ripon looked about at the carnage with a satisfied smile and them sheathed his ray-gun. "it was a good fight!" he said. "i haven't had as much fun since the time i wrecked a saloon in port mahon. now, young feller, you just take care of the lady here while i take a squad and get the radium salts from the store-house." "and the _sky maid_?" larry asked. "that sour-puss masterson has been standing over the men with a ray-gun in one hand and my last jug of rum in the other ever since you left. all the repairs are finished. we start back to earth as soon as we can get our cargo aboard." "then the people of your planet will be saved?" diana asked. "they will be saved. and as soon as the gray death is checked i'll come back for you. then the moon will have to get along without its goddess for a while." "i'll be waiting," she said. a voyage to the moon by monsieur cyrano de bergerac new york doubleday and mcclure co m. dccc. xcix. contents cyrano de bergerac. note on the translation. the translator to the reader. title-page of lovell's translation of the comical history of the states and empires of the world of the moon: london, 1687. i.--of how the voyage was conceived. ii.--of how the author set out, and where he first arrived. iii.--of his conversation with the vice-roy of new france; and of the system of this universe. iv.--of how at last he set out again for the moon, tho without his own will. v.--of his arrival there, and of the beauty of that country in which he fell. vi.--of a youth whom he met there, and of their conversation: what that country was, and the inhabitants of it. vii.--being cast out from that country, of the new adventures which befell him; and of the demon of socrates. viii.--of the languages of the people in the moon; of the manner of feeding there, and paying the scot; and of how the author was taken to court. ix.--of the little spaniard whom he met there, and of his quaint wit; of vacuum, specific weights, and sundry other philosophical matters. x.--where the author comes in doubt, whether he be a man, an ape, or an estridge; and of the opinion of the lunar philosophers concerning aristotle. xi.--of the manner of making war in the moon; and of how the moon is not the moon, nor the earth the earth. xii.--of a philosophical entertainment. xiii.--of the little animals that make up our life, and likewise cause our diseases; and of the disposition of the towns in the moon. xiv.--of the original of all things; of atomes; and of the operation of the senses. xv.--of the books in the moon, and their fashion; of death, burial, and burning; of the manner of telling the time; and of noses, xvi.--of miracles; and of curing by the imagination. xvii.--of the author's return to the earth. list of illustrations. cyrano de bergerac, frontispiece cyrano in his study cyrano en route for the moon the "little spaniard's" trip to the moon the author's flying machine [illustration: frontispiece--cyrano de bergerac. la terre me fut importune le pris mon essort vers les cieux. l'y vis le soleil, et la lune. et maintenant j'y vois les dieux ("all weary with the earth too soon, i took my flight into the skies, beholding there the sun and moon where now the gods confront my eyes.") from a 17th century engraving of the original portrait by zacharie heince.] cyrano de bergerac. savinien hercule de cyrano bergerac, swashbuckler, hero, poet, and philosopher, came of an old and noble family, richer in titles than in estates. his grandfather still kept most of the titles, and was called savinien de cyrano mauvières bergerac saint-laurent. he was secretary to the king in 1571, and held other important offices. since there was no absolute right of primo-geniture in those matters, the names, as well as what was left of the properties they had represented, were distributed among his descendants. our hero seems to have received a fair share of the titles; but of the property, nothing. he was the fifth among seven children, and was born on the 6th of march, 1619; not in 1620, as has been usually stated. he was born, moreover, at paris, not in gascony; we must, alas, admit that he was not a gascon. he ought to have been one, he certainly deserved to be one. but fortune, who seems to have taken pleasure in always making him just miss his destiny, began by doing him this first and greatest wrong of not letting him be born a gascon. the family was not even of distant gascon origin, but was périgourdin; bergerac itself is a small town near périgueux. cyrano, however, did his best to repair this as well as the other wrongs of destiny; he acquired the gascon accent, and often made himself pass for a gascon. the fortune of his early education made him fall into the hands of a country curate, who was an insufferable pedant (the species seems to have been common at that time), and who had no real scholarship (the two things are by no means contradictory). cyrano dubbed his master an "aristotelic ass," and wrote to his father that he preferred paris. this period of exile had one very important result, however: the formation of his first and most lasting friendship, that with lebret, who shared in the instruction of the country curate, but with a more docile acceptance of his teachings. here again fortune seems to have played tricks with cyrano, in giving him by accident for lifelong friend one who just missed being what a real friend should be; who was true and loyal, but who was always seeking to reform cyrano or to push him forward in the world; who admired him, who loved him, but who was of such opposite nature that he understood him not at all. back at paris, cyrano was sent to the collège de beauvais afterward racine's college where he completed the course, under the principalship of another pedant named grangier, who was a little more scholarly, but no less ridiculous than the first, and who figures in the leading rôle of cyrano's comedy _le pédant joué_. he lived the paris student's life, burning honest tradesmen's signs and "doing other crazy things," as his contemporary tallemant des réaux tells us. on leaving college he started upon a downward track, according to lebret; "on which," says the same good lebret, "i dare to boast that i stopped him ... by compelling him to enter the company of the guards with me." it may be doubted whether a temporary suspension of the paternal allowance had nothing to do with the matter; and whether, after all, cyrano felt so much repugnance to entering this company of the guards. for this company was the famous regiment of the "garde-nobles," commanded by carbon de castel-jaloux, a "triple gascon" and a "triple brave." and his men were hardly a step behind him, all of them nobles that was an essential condition of entrance and almost all of them gascons. cyrano, at first in the position rather of the christian than of the cyrano of m. rostand's play, by his gallantry and wit compelled them to accept him, and even won among these "braves" the title of "_démon de la bravoure_." unable to be the most gascon of the gascons, he made it up by being more gascon than the gascons. among his exploits the most famous is that of the fight with the hundred ruffians; for this appears to be not a dramatic creation or a legend, but history. one of his poet-friends, linière (the name is sometimes spelt lignière) a writer of epigram and contributor to the "recueils" or "keep-sakes" of the epoch, had wounded the susceptibilities of a certain "grand seigneur," who planned to avenge himself by the same method which another noble lord, in the eighteenth century, actually used against voltaire. he posted his hundred men at the porte de nesle, to waylay linière. linière, hearing of it, came to take refuge with cyrano for the night. but cyrano would not receive him. "no, you shall sleep at home," said he. "here, take this lantern" (this is m. brun's version), "walk behind me and hold the light, and i'll make bed-quilts of them for you!" and the next morning there were found scattered about the porte de nesle two dead men, seven wounded, and many hats, sticks, and pikes. according to lebret's account, the battle took place in broad daylight, and had several witnesses. for the rest, his story coincides with that above. and all versions agree in saying that m. de cuigy and m. de brissailles both men of the time fairly well known: one the son of an advocate of the parliament of paris, the other mestre de camp of the prince de conti's regiment bore witness to the facts; and that the story became generally known, and was never denied. perhaps it will not be well to guarantee the exactness of the number one hundred; but the story must be for the most part true. another exploit, less magnificent, but perhaps as characteristic of the wild temper of cyrano, is his battle with fagotin. a mountebank named brioché had a theatre of marionnettes, near the pont-neuf, and used an ape called fagotin, fantastically dressed, to attract spectators. some enemy of cyrano, perhaps dassoucy, one day persuaded brioché to dress his ape up in imitation of cyrano, with long sword and nose as long. cyrano, arriving and seeing this parody of himself exalted on a platform, unsheathes in blind rage, drives the crowd of lackeys and loafers right and left with the flat of his sword, and impales the poor ape who was holding out his sword in a posture of self-defence. according to the contemporary pamphlet, partly in prose and partly in verse, which was made upon this marvellous adventure, brioché brought suit for damages against bergerac. but even in these ridiculous circumstances cyrano managed to get the laughers on his side; and claiming that in the country of art there was no such thing as gold and silver, and that he had a right to pay in the money of the country, he promised to eternize the dead ape in apollinic verse; and so was acquitted. the story of montfleury, the fat actor whom cyrano detested, is hardly less fantastic; and in connection with it we have the witness of cyrano's own letter "against montfleury the fat, bad actor and bad author," the tenth of the _satiric letters_. according to all the books of theatrical anecdotes, cyrano one evening ordered him off the stage, and forbade him to reappear for a month; and when two days later he did reappear, cyrano once more drove him in disgrace to the wings. the audience protesting, cyrano challenged them each and all to meet him in duel, and carried his point. whether he offered to take down their names in order or not, does not appear. in the meantime, more serious work turned up. the regiment of the cadets was sent against the germans, entered mouzon, was besieged there. in a sortie, cyrano was seriously wounded, a musket-ball passing through his body. hardly recovered from his wound, he rejoined the army at the siege of arras, in 1640; unfortunately for the story, he was probably no longer with the cadets there, but in the regiment of the prince de conti. again he was wounded, this time even more seriously, with a sword-cut in the throat. and compelled to abandon the military career, he returned to paris and took up his studies and his writing. for he had always been a student and a poet. it is probable that the _pédant joué_ was in part composed during his college days. lebret pictures him to us as studying between two duels, and working at an elegy in all the noise of the regimental barracks, "as undistractedly as if he had been in a quiet study." he now joined a group of independents in thought and life, naturalists in ethics and empiricists in philosophy, and forced his way into a private class of the philosopher gassendi, where he had for fellow-students hesnaut, chapelle, bernier, and almost certainly a young jean-baptiste poquelin, who was very soon to take the name of molière, found the "illustre théâtre," and after its failure start on a fifteen years' tour of the provinces. cyrano was an earnest and capable student of philosophy, and came to it with the fresh interest not only of his own personality, but of a young man of barely twenty-two; he naturally imposed himself as a sort of leader in the group of young "libertins" or free-thinkers, just as he had done among the guards. he knew well not only gassendi, but also campanella, and of course descartes, in his works at least. he even seems to have read widely among the half-philosophers, half-occultists of the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, such as cornelius agrippa, jerome cardan, abbot tritheim, césar de nostradamus, etc. among the ancients, his first favorites were lucretius and pyrrho: pyrrho whom he especially admired, "because he was so nobly free, that no thinker of his age had been able to enslave his opinions; and so modest, that he would never give final decision on any point." there is much of cyrano in this phrase, both in the half-bold modesty and in the half-timid fierceness of independence. cyrano shuddered at the thought of having even a single one of his ideas enslaved to those of another thinker. just as he had refused the maréchal de gassion for patron when he was in the guards, so he would accept no one's _magister dixit_, no patron of his thought, not even the aristotle of the schools. the period of his life from 1643 to 1653 is a very obscure one. yet probably almost all of his works were composed during this time. he may have travelled; there are traditions and suggestions that he visited england, italy, even poland. he probably stood in danger of persecution from the jesuits on account of his philosophical ideas, and may have suffered it, as did his contemporaries campanella and galileo, or, to mention a french poet only a little older than he, _théophile de viau_, who was even condemned to death for less independence than cyrano's; though the sentence was fortunately commuted. he probably mingled somewhat in the society of the "précieuses" of the time as well as in that of the "libertins"; for he has left a series of "love-letters" which must almost exactly have suited the taste of those who prepared discourses on the tender passion. he probably had many duels still, for lebret tells us that he served a hundred times as second--the round number is to be taken as such--and any one acquainted with the epoch, or with the _three musketeers_ of dumas, knows that the seconds fought as well as the principals. lebret adds, to be sure, that he never had a quarrel on his own account, but we may perhaps take this as a bit of the conscientious "white-washing" which lebret could not refrain from in speaking of his friend's reputation; for we know enough of his character even from lebret, and of his life from other sources, to make a gentle peacefulness, so out of keeping with the epoch, somewhat doubtful; and then there was his nose. the nose is authentic also. it appears in all the portraits, of which there are four. and in all of these it is the same: not a little ugly nose, flat at the top and projecting at the bottom in a little long gable turned up at the end; but a large, generous, well-shaped nose, hooked rather than retroussé, and planted squarely in the symmetrical middle of the face; not ridiculous, but monumental! the anecdotes of the duels it caused are so many, that one comes in spite of oneself to believe some of them. it is said that this nose brought death upon more than ten persons; that one could not look upon it, but he must unsheathe; if one looked away, it was worse; and as for speaking of noses, that was a subject which cyrano reserved for himself, to do it fitting honor. listen to his treatment of it in the _pédant joué_: "this veridic nose arrives everywhere a quarter of an hour before its master. ten shoemakers, good round fat ones too, go and sit down to work under it out of the rain." as for defending large noses, as the index of valor, intelligence, and all high qualities, it will appear in the _voyage to the moon_ that he could do it as well with his pen as with his sword. the end of his life was difficult and sad. he was finally compelled to accept the patronage of the duc d'arpajon, for no man could live or even exist by literature at that period, except as literature brought patronage or pensions. the great corneille himself, than whom no one could be more simply sturdy and high of character, wrote begging letters to the great minister who controlled the pensions of literature. cyrano dedicated the edition of his "miscellaneous works" in 1654 to the duc d'arpajon, in an epistle which fulfils, but with dignity and independence, the laws of the _genre_, and accompanied it with a sonnet addressed to the duke's daughter, which is in the taste of the time, yet considerably better than the taste of the time. things went well till _agrippine_ appeared, which had a "succès de scandale"; but its "belles impiétés," as the happy book-seller called them, seem to have pleased the timidly orthodox duke less. in the meantime cyrano had received a wound from a falling beam whether by mere accident or not, will never be known; but cyrano had many enemies, and it has generally been thought that there was purpose behind the accident. for whatever reason, the duc d'arpajon seems to have advised cyrano to leave him, and cyrano was received by regnault des bois-clairs, a friend of lebret. there he was kindly cared for and lectured on the evil of his past life by lebret and three women of the convent of the daughters of the cross: soeur hyacinthe, an aunt of cyrano himself; mère marguerite, the superior of the convent; and the baronne de neuvillette, a cousin of cyrano, who was madeleine robineau, and had married the baron christophe de neuvillette, killed at the siege of arras in 1640. the three women persuaded themselves that they had converted cyrano to the true church. this is doubtful, since he dragged himself away to the country to die, at the house of the cousin whom he speaks of at the end of the _voyage to the moon_. in any case, mère marguerite reclaimed his body, and he was buried in holy ground at the convent. _the voyage to the moon_ was not published till 1656, the year after cyrano's death. it was certainly written as early as 1650, probably in 1649. it had been circulated widely in manuscript, and possibly a few copies had been printed, before the author's death. _the voyage to the sun_, or, to give the title more accurately, the "comic history of the states and empires of the sun," was probably written immediately after the _voyage to the moon_, but was not published till 1662. the _history of the spark_ has never been found, unless that be the subtitle of a part of the voyage to the sun, as seems fairly probable. the _letters_ of cyrano are, in part at least, his earliest work. they were probably scattered over a considerable period in point of composition, but most of them were published in 1654. it is to be remembered that like all the letters of that epoch which we have, they were meant to be read in company, in the salons, or sometimes (like that "against dassoucy"), in the taverns, corresponding to the modern cafés, where men of letters gathered. they were written not for the postman, but for the parlor; and not so much for the parlor as for the printer. but even with the artificiality of this method, and with the burlesque or précieuse expression that was obligatory in letters at that time, there are touches of real sincerity and passion constantly breaking through. the _pédant joué_ is a prose-comedy in five acts, made almost entirely on the model of the italian "commedia dell' arte," a form in which molière's early work is written, and which was practically the only form known at the time when cyrano wrote for the play is certainly anterior to corneille's _menteur_. we have the almost obligatory two pairs of young lovers; the old father who is tyrannical but easily deceived in this particular case combined with the pedant-doctor type; the valet who does the deceiving, in the service of the young lovers; and the terrible captain, who takes flight at the shadow of danger. cyrano has, however, introduced one new type a peasant with his dialect and local characteristics: a type that molière used to great advantage later, but hardly so very much better than cyrano uses it here; witness the fact that a number of this peasant's phrases have become proverbs. the famous scene of "qu'allait-il faire dans cette galère" (despairingly repeated by the father who is compelled to give up his cherished money for the ransom of a son held in captivity supposedly on a turkish galley) is exceedingly well imagined, and molière did well to use it, sixteen years after cyrano's death, for the two best scenes of his _fourberies de scapin_. it is not a matter to reproach molière with, but it is a case in which cyrano should receive due credit. the only serious poetical work of cyrano is his tragedy of _agrippine, veuve de germanicus_, written at some time in the forties, played in 1653, and published in 1654. the statement, repeated categorically by mr. sidney lee in his recent life of shakespeare, that "cyrano de bergerac plagiarized 'cymbeline,' 'hamlet,' and 'the merchant of venice' in his 'agrippina,'" has not the slightest foundation. there are no resemblances, either superficial or essential, on which to base it, and it is altogether improbable that cyrano even knew of shakespeare's existence. the subject of agrippine is similar to that of corneille's _cinna_--a conspiracy under the roman empire. there are no resemblances to corneille's work in the details of the plot, but in general spirit the play is what we call cornelian, partly because corneille was the only one who possessed this spirit of the epoch with sufficient creative and individual power to compel the attention of posterity. cyrano, once more, just missed this. but his play is worthy not only to be ranked with the best dramas of any of his contemporaries except corneille, but even to be at least compared with corneille's better work (except perhaps the _cid_ and _polyeucte_). the play is not thoroughly well constructed, and so misses something of dramatic effectiveness, though by no means missing it entirely; but it is as well constructed as corneille's _cinna_, and better than his horace to take examples only among his greatest plays. it has no scene to compare with that of the clemency of augustus in _cinna_, no character-study so fine as that of the different sentiments of augustus. but it approaches, though it does not quite attain, the heroics of _horace_. it is full of exaggeration so is corneille; and of an exaggeration that sometimes becomes burlesque as in corneille; but it is an exaggeration that is high and heroic, like corneille's. and the high and heroic sometimes as in a line like this: et puis, mourir n'est rien; c'est achever de naître-sometimes, but too rarely, drops its exaggeration to become simple as simple as real heroism, which is the simplest thing in the world. except real genius. real genius is, finally, the essential thing, which cyrano once more just missed attaining missed just by the lack of that simplicity, perhaps. but exaggeration, sometimes carried to the burlesque, is the essential trait which makes him what he is; and we cannot wish it away. curtis hidden page. note on the translation. there have been at least three translations into english of the _voyage to the moon_: that alluded to on page 1; the present translation; and one made in the eighteenth century by samuel derrick. the last is dedicated to the earl of orrery, author of "remarks on the life and writings of jonathan swift," and attributes its "call from obscurity" to "your lordship's mentioning it in your _life of swift_" as having served for inspiration to _gulliver's travels_. samuel derrick's translation, however, is not so good as that of a. lovell. the seventeenth century translation is more flowery and fanciful, and by that very fact closer to the original. for though the _voyage to the moon_ is the most sober in style of cyrano's works, yet there are still many touches of the "high fantastical" in its manner as well as in its substance. the eighteenth century translator has toned down the style to make it more acceptable to that age of reason and regularity. it is still another case of the irony of fate pursuing cyrano; the regularity of seventeenth century literature in france, against whom he struggled so swashbucklerly, had completely triumphed and spread their influence over europe; so that even in the land where liberty and individuality are native, his work had to suffer correction in all its most fanciful passages. there are constant omissions of phrases or sentences in the eighteenth century translation, and there are also numerous mistakes, as well as many points missed. the seventeenth century translation, on the other hand, is faithful throughout to its original, and accurate as well as vivid. the translation has been compared throughout with the french of the edition of 1661, and the two or three slight corrections needed have been made in footnotes. except for the breaking up of some very long paragraphs, and slight changes in punctuation when necessary for clearness, the text has been reprinted as exactly as possible. all changes or additions, except the correction of evident misprints, have been bracketed. c. h. p. a voyage to the moon. the translator to the reader. it is now seven and twenty years, since the moon appeared first historically on the english horizon[1]: and let it not seem strange, that she should have retained light and brightness so long here, without renovation; when we find by experience, that in the heavens, she never fails once a month to change and shift her splendor. for it is the excellency of art, to represent nature even in her absence; and this being a piece done to the life, by one that had the advantage of the true light, as well as the skill of drawing, in this kind, to perfection; he left so good an original, which was so well copied by another hand, that the picture might have served for many years more, to have given the lovers of the moon, a sight of their mistress, even in the darkest nights; and when she was retired to put on a clean smock in phoebus his apartment; if they had been so curious, as to have encouraged the exposers. however, reader, you have now a second view of her, and that under the same cover with the sun too, which is very rare; since these two were never seen before in conjunction. yet i would have none be afraid, that their eyes being dazzled with the glorious light of the sun, they should not see her; for fancy will supply the weakness of the organ, and imagination, by the help of this mirrour, will not fail to discover them both; though cynthia lye hid under apollo's shining mantle. and so much for the luminaries. now as to the worlds, which, with analogy to ours below, i may call the old and new; that of the moon having been discovered, tho imperfectly, by others, but the sun owing its discovery wholly to our author:[2] i make no doubt, but the ingenious reader will find in both, so extraordinary and surprizing rarities, as well natural, moral, as civil; that if he be not as yet sufficiently disgusted with this lower world, (which i am sure some are) to think of making a voyage thither, as our author has done; he will at least be pleased with his relations. nevertheless, since this age produces a great many bold wits, that shoot even beyond the moon, and cannot endure, (no more than our author) to be stinted by magisterial authority, and to believe nothing but what gray-headed antiquity gives them leave: it's pity some soaring virtuoso, instead of travelling into france, does not take a flight up to the sun; and by new observations supply the defects of its history; occasioned not by the negligence of our witty french author, but by the accursed plagiary of some rude hand, that in his sickness, rifted his trunks, and stole his papers, as he himself complains.[3] let some venturous undertaker auspiciously attempt it then; and if neither of the two universities, gresham-college, nor greenwich-observatory can furnish him with an instrument of conveyance; let him try his own invention, or make use of our author's machine: for our loss is, indeed, so great, that one would think, none but the declared enemy of mankind, would have had the malice, to purloyn and stiffle those rare discoveries, which our author made in the province of the solar philosophers; and which undoubtedly would have gone far, as to the settleing our sublunary philosophy, which, as well as religion, is lamentably rent by sects and whimseys; and have convinced us, perhaps, that in our present doubts and perplexities, a little more, or a little less of either, would better serve our turns, and more content our minds. [1] this evidently refers to an earlier translation of the _voyage to the moon_, published probably in 1660. the present editor will be greatly obliged to any one who will put him on the track of a copy of this, or any other early translation from cyrano, such as the "satyrical characters and handsome descriptions, in letters, written to several persons of quality, by monsieur de cyrano bergerac. translated from the french, by a person of honor. london, 1658." [2] among the "others" who had previously "discovered" the moon, ariosto is the most prominent. in his _orlando furioso_, astolfo goes to the moon, visits the "valley of lost things," finds there many broken resolutions, idlers' days, lovers' tears, and other such matters; and finally recovers orlando's lost wits, which he brings back to the earth. the _satire ménippée_ (1594) gives, in its _supplément_, "news from the regions of the moon." quevedo, the spanish satirist and novelist (1580-1645), with whose works cyrano was acquainted, also gives an account of the moon in his sixth vision. in england, the rev. john wilkins (1614-1672), once principal of trinity college, cambridge, and later bishop of chester, a brother-in-law of cromwell, and one of the founders of the royal society, published in 1638 the "_discovery of a new world_; or, a discourse to prove it is probable there may be another habitable world in the moon; with a discourse concerning _the possibility of a passage thither_"; and later, in 1640, the "_discourse_ concerning a new planet; tending to prove it is probable our earth is one of the planets." these two works are said to have done more than any others to popularize the copernican system in england. the _discovery of a new world_ was translated into french by jean de montagne, and published at rouen in 1655 or 1656. see charles nodier, _mélanges extraits d'une petite bibliothèque_. finally, the most important of cyrano's predecessors in the discovery of the moon was francis godwin, m.a., d.d., bishop of llandaff and later of hereford (1562-1633). it was not till 1638, after the worthy bishop's death, and in the same year that rev. (later bishop) john wilkins' _discovery of a new world_ was published, that there appeared his "_man in the moone_; or a discourse of a voyage thither, by domingo gonsales, the speedy messenger." this was translated into french by jean baudoin or baudouin in 1648, as "l'homme dans la lune ... voyage ... fait par dominique gonzales, aventurier espagnol," and was well known to cyrano, as we shall see. in saying that "the sun owes its discovery wholly to our author," the translator appears to be ignorant of a work which cyrano certainly knew: the _civitas solis_ of campanella, published in 1623 as a part of his _realis philosophiæ epilogisticæ partes iv_. [3] cf. the last sentence of the _voyage to the moon_. (the title-page of lovell's translation.) the comical history of the states and empires of the world of the moon. written in french by cyrano bergerac. and now englished by a. lovell. a.m. printed for henry rhodes, next door to the swan-tavern, near bride-lane in fleet street, 1687. chapter i. _of how the voyage was conceived._ i had been with some friends at clamard, a house near paris, and magnificently entertain'd there by monsieur de cuigy,[1] the lord of it; when upon our return home, about nine of the clock at night, the air serene, and the moon in the full, the contemplation of that bright luminary furnished us with such variety of thoughts as made the way seem shorter than, indeed, it was. our eyes being fixed upon that stately planet, every one spoke what he thought of it: one would needs have it be a garret window of heaven; another presently affirmed, that it was the pan whereupon _diana_ smoothed _apollo's_ bands; whilst another was of opinion, that it might very well be the sun himself, who putting his locks up under his cap at night, peeped through a hole to observe what was doing in the world during his absence. "and for my part, gentlemen," said i, "that i may put in for a share, and guess with the rest; not to amuse my self with those curious notions wherewith you tickle and spur on slow-paced time; i believe, that the moon is a world like ours, to which this of ours serves likewise for a moon." this was received with the general laughter of the company. "and perhaps," said i, "(gentlemen) just so they laugh now in the moon, at some who maintain, that this globe, where we are, is a world." but i'd as good have said nothing, as have alledged to them, that a great many learned men had been of the same opinion; for that only made them laugh the faster. however, this thought, which because of its boldness suited my humor, being confirmed by contradiction, sunk so deep into my mind, that during the rest of the way i was big with definitions of the moon which i could not be delivered of: insomuch that by striving to verifie this comical fancy by reasons of appearing weight, i had almost perswaded my self already of the truth on't; when a miracle, accident, providence, fortune, or what, perhaps, some may call vision, others fiction, whimsey, or (if you will) folly, furnished me with an occasion that engaged me into this discourse. being come home, i went up into my closet, where i found a book open upon the table, which i had not put there. it was a piece of _cardanus_[2]; and though i had no design to read in it, yet i fell at first sight, as by force, exactly upon a passage of that philosopher where he tells us, that studying one evening by candle-light, he perceived two tall old men enter in through the door that was shut, who after many questions that he put to them, made him answer, that they were inhabitants of the moon, and thereupon immediately disappeared. [illustration: cyrano in his study.--from a 17th century engraving] i was so surprised, not only to see a book get thither of it self; but also because of the nicking of the time so patly, and of the page at which it lay upon, that i looked upon that concatenation of accidents as a revelation, discovering to mortals that the moon is a world. "how!" said i to my self, having just now talked of a thing, can a book, which perhaps is the only book in the world that treats of that matter so particularly, fly down from the shelf upon my table; become capable of reason, in opening so exactly at the place of so strange an adventure; force my eyes in a manner to look upon it, and then to suggest to my fancy the reflexions, and to my will the designs which i hatch. "without doubt," continued i, "the two old men, who appeared to that famous philosopher, are the very same who have taken down my book and opened it at that page, to save themselves the labour of making to me the harangue which they made to _cardan_." "but," added i, "i cannot be resolved of this doubt, unless i mount up thither." "and why not?" said i instantly to my self. "_prometheus_ heretofore went up to heaven, and stole fire from thence. have not i as much boldness as he? and why should not i, then, expect as favourable a success?" [1] monsieur de cuigy, who is mentioned by lebret as a friend and admirer of cyrano, and who was one of the witnesses of his famous battle against the hundred ruffians, possessed an estate at clamart-sous-meudon, near paris. he appears as a character in m. rostand's play of _cyrano de bergerac_. [2] jerome cardan, 1501-1576, natural philosopher, doctor, astrologer, mathematician, and a voluminous author; in short, a sort of italian paracelsus, both by his universal learning, and by his intense interest in all domains of possible knowledge, in which he included astrology and necromancy. his most important work is the one referred to here, the _de subtilitate rerum_, 1551. chapter ii. _of how the author set out, and where he first arrived._ after these sudden starts of imagination, which may be termed, perhaps, the ravings of a violent feaver, i began to conceive some hopes of succeeding in so fair a voyage: insomuch that to take my measures aright, i shut my self up in a solitary country-house; where having flattered my fancy with some means, proportionated to my design, at length i set out for heaven in this manner. i planted my self in the middle of a great many glasses full of dew, tied fast about me;[1] upon which the sun so violently darted his rays, that the heat, which attracted them, as it does the thickest clouds, carried me up so high, that at length i found my self above the middle region of the air. but seeing that attraction hurried me up with so much rapidity that instead of drawing near the moon, as i intended, she seem'd to me to be more distant than at my first setting out; i broke several of my vials, until i found my weight exceed the force of the attraction, and that i began to descend again towards the earth. i was not mistaken in my opinion, for some time after i fell to the ground again; and to reckon from the hour that i set out at, it must then have been about midnight. nevertheless i found the sun to be in the meridian, and that it was noon. i leave it to you to judge, in what amazement i was; the truth is, i was so strangely surprised, that not knowing what to think of that miracle, i had the insolence to imagine that in favour of my boldness god had once more nailed the sun to the firmament, to light so generous[2] an enterprise. that which encreased my astonishment was, that i knew not the country where i was; it seemed to me, that having mounted straight up, i should have fallen down again in the same place i parted from. however, in the equipage i was in, i directed my course towards a kind of cottage, where i perceived some smoke; and i was not above a pistol-shot from it, when i saw my self environed by a great number of people, stark naked: they seemed to be exceedingly surprised at the sight of me; for i was the first, (as i think) that they had ever seen clad in bottles. nay, and to baffle all the interpretations that they could put upon that equipage, they perceived that i hardly touched the ground as i walked; for, indeed, they understood not that upon the least agitation i gave my body the heat of the beams of the noon-sun raised me up with my dew; and that if i had had vials enough about me, it would possibly have carried me up into the air in their view. i had a mind to have spoken to them; but as if fear had changed them into birds, immediately i lost sight of them in an adjoyning forest. however, i catched hold of one, whose legs had, without doubt, betrayed his heart. i asked him, but with a great deal of pain, (for i was quite choked) how far they reckoned from thence to _paris_? how long men had gone naked in _france_? and why they fled from me in so great consternation? the man i spoke to was an old tawny fellow, who presently fell at my feet, and with lifted-up hands joyned behind his head, opened his mouth and shut his eyes: he mumbled a long while between his teeth, but i could not distinguish an articulate word; so that i took his language for the maffling[3] noise of a dumb-man. some time after, i saw a company of souldiers marching, with drums beating; and i perceived two detached from the rest, to come and take speech of me. when they were come within hearing, i asked them, where i was? "you are in _france_" answered they: "but what devil hath put you into that dress? and how comes it that we know you not? is the fleet then arrived? are you going to carry the news of it to the governor? and why have you divided your brandy into so many bottles?" to all this i made answer, that the devil had not put me into that dress: that they knew me not; because they could not know all men: that i knew, nothing of the _seine's_ carrying ships to _paris_: that i had no news for the _marshal de l'hospital_;[4] and that i was not loaded with brandy. "ho, ho," said they to me, taking me by the arm, "you are a merry fellow indeed; come, the governor will make a shift to know you, no doubt on't." they led me to their company, where i learnt that i was in reality in _france_, but that it was in _new-france_: so that some time after, i was presented before the governor, who asked me my country, my name and quality; and after that i had satisfied him in all points, and told him the pleasant success of my voyage, whether he believed it, or only pretended to do so, he had the goodness to order me a chamber in his apartment. i was very happy, in meeting with a man capable of lofty opinions, and who was not at all surprised when i told him that the earth must needs have turned during my elevation; seeing that having begun to mount about two leagues from _paris_, i was fallen, as it were, by a perpendicular line in _canada_. [1] cf. m. rostand's cyrano de bergerac, act iii., scene xi.: "one way was to stand naked in the sunshine, in a harness thickly studded with glass phials, each filled with morning dew. the sun in drawing up the dew, you see, could not have helped drawing me up too!" (miss gertrude hall' s translation.) [2] generous = _noble_. cf. lord burleigh, _precepts to his son_: "let her not be poor, how _generous_ soever; for a man can buy nothing in the market with gentility." [3] stammering, mumbling; a north of england word. [4] paul lacroix, the editor of the french edition of cyrano's works, not understanding this phrase, has ingeniously invented the interpretation of "quarantine officer" for it. not only have the words never had this meaning, but they are evidently a proper name. and in fact _françois de l'hospital, maréchal de france_, was governor of paris in 1649, the year when the _voyage to the moon_ was probably written. cyrano, thinking he has fallen in france, near paris, and being asked if he carries news of the fleet to the governor, naturally answers that he knows nothing of ships going to paris, and that he carries no news to the maréchal de l'hospital. chapter iii. _of his conversation with the vice-roy of new france; and of the system of this universe._ when i was going to bed at night, he came into my chamber, and spoke to me to this purpose: "i should not have come to disturb your rest, had i not thought that one who hath found out the secret of travelling so far in twelve hours space, had likewise a charm against lassitude. but you know not," added he, "what a pleasant quarrel i have just now had with our fathers, upon your account? they'll have you absolutely to be a magician; and the greatest favour you can expect from them, is to be reckoned only an impostor: the truth is, that motion which you attribute to the earth[1] is a pretty nice paradox; and for my part i'll frankly tell you, that that which hinders me from being of your opinion, is, that though you parted yesterday from _paris_, yet you might have arrived today in this country without the earth's turning: for the sun having drawn you up by the means of your bottles, ought he not to have brought you hither; since according to _ptolemy_, and the modern philosophers,[2] he marches obliquely, as you make the earth to move? and besides, what great probability have you to imagine, that the sun is immoveable, when we see it go? and what appearance is there, that the earth turns with so great rapidity, when we feel it firm under our feet?" "sir," replied i to him, "these are, in a manner, the reasons that oblige us to think so: in the first place, it is consonant to common sense to think that the sun is placed in the center of the universe; seeing all bodies in nature standing in need of that radical heat, it is fit he should reside in the heart of the kingdom, that he may be in a condition readily to supply the necessities of every part; and that the cause of generations should be placed in the middle of all bodies, that it may act there with greater equality and ease: after the same manner as wise nature hath placed the seeds in the center of apples, the kernels in the middle of their fruits; and in the same manner as the onion, under the cover of so many coats that encompass it, preserves that precious bud from which millions of others are to have their being. for an apple is in itself a little universe; the seed, hotter than the other parts thereof, is its sun, which diffuses about it self that natural heat which preserves its globe: and in the onion, the germ is the little sun of that little world, which vivifies and nourishes the vegetative salt of that little mass. having laid down this, then, for a ground, i say, that the earth standing in need of the light, heat, and influence of this great fire, it turns round it, that it may receive in all parts alike that virtue which keeps it in being. for it would be as ridiculous to think, that that vast luminous body turned about a point that it has not the least need of; as to imagine, that when we see a roasted lark, that the kitchin-fire must have turned round it. else, were it the part of the sun to do that drudgery, it would seem that the physician stood in need of the patient; that the strong should yield to the weak; the superior serve the inferior; and that the ship did not sail about the land, but the land about the ship. "now if you cannot easily conceive how so ponderous a body can move; pray, tell me, are the stars and heavens, which, in your opinion, are so solid, any way lighter? besides, it is not so difficult for us, who are assured of the roundness of the earth, to infer its motion from its figure: but why do ye suppose the heaven to be round, seeing you cannot know it, and that yet, if it hath not this figure, it is impossible it can move? i object not to you your _excentricks_ nor _epicycles_,[3] which you cannot explain but very confusedly, and which are out of doors in my systeme. let's reflect only on the natural causes of that motion. to make good your hypothesis, you are forced to have recourse to spirits or _intelligences_, that move and govern your spheres. but for my part, without disturbing the repose of the supreme being, who, without doubt, hath made nature entirely perfect, and whose wisdom ought so to have compleated her, that being perfect in one thing, she should not have been defective in another: i say, that the beams and influences of the sun, darting circularly upon the earth, make it to turn as with a turn of the hand we make a globe to move; or, which is much the same, that the steams which continually evaporate from that side of it which the sun shines upon, being reverberated by the cold of the middle region, rebound upon it, and striking obliquely do of necessity make it whirle about in that manner. "the explication of the other motions[4] is less perplexed still; for pray, consider a little" at these words the vice-roy interrupted me: "i had rather," said he, "you would excuse your self from that trouble; for i have read some books of _gassendus_[5] on that subject: and hear what one of our fathers, who maintained your opinion one day, answered me. 'really,' said he, 'i fancy that the earth does move, not for the reasons alledged by _copernicus_; but because hell-fire being shut up in the center of the earth, the damned, who make a great bustle to avoid its flames, scramble up to the vault, as far as they can from them, and so make the earth to turn, as a turn-spit[6] makes the wheel go round when he runs about in it.'" we applauded that thought, as being a pure effect of the zeal of that good father: and then the vice-roy told me, that he much wondered, how the systeme of _ptolemy_, being so improbable, should have been so universally received. "sir," said i to him, "most part of men, who judge of all things by the senses, have suffered themselves to be perswaded by their eyes; and as he who sails along a shoar thinks the ship immoveable, and the land in motion; even so men turning with the earth round the sun have thought that it was the sun that moved about them. to this may be added the unsupportable pride of mankind, who perswade themselves that nature hath only been made for them; as if it were likely that the sun, a vast body four hundred and thirty four times bigger than the earth,[7] had only been kindled to ripen their medlars and plumpen their cabbage. "for my part, i am so far from complying with their insolence, that i believe the planets are worlds about the sun, and that the fixed stars are also suns which have planets about them, that's to say, worlds, which because of their smallness, and that their borrowed light cannot reach us, are not discernable by men in this world: for in good earnest, how can it be imagined that such spacious globes are no more but vast desarts; and that ours, because we live in it, hath been framed for the habitation of a dozen of proud dandyprats? how, must it be said, because the sun measures our days and years, that it hath only been made to keep us from running our heads against the walls? no, no, if that visible deity shine upon man, it's by accident, as the king's flamboy by accident lightens a porter that walks along the street." "but," said he to me, "[if,] as you affirm, the fixed stars be so many suns, it will follow that the world is infinite; seeing it is probable that the people of that world which moves about that fixed star you take for a sun, discover above themselves other fixed stars, which we cannot perceive from hence, and so others in that manner _in infinitum_." "never question," replied i, "but as god could create the soul immortal, he could also make the world infinite; if so it be, that eternity is nothing else but an illimited duration, and an infinite, a boundless extension: and then god himself would be finite, supposing the world not to be _infinite_; seeing he cannot be where nothing is, and that he could not encrease the greatness of the world without adding somewhat to his own being, by beginning to exist where he did not exist before. we must believe then, that as from hence we see _saturn_ and _jupiter_; if we were in either of the two, we should discover a great many worlds which we perceive not; and that the universe extends so _in infinitum_." "i' faith;" replied he, "when you have said all you can, i cannot at all comprehend that infinitude." "good now," replied i to him, "do you comprehend the nothing that is beyond it? not at all. for when you think of that _nothing_, you imagine it at least to be like wind or air, and that is a being: but if you conceive not an _infinite_ in general, you comprehend it at least in particulars; seeing it is not difficult to fancy to our selves, beyond the earth, air, and fire which we see, other air, and other earth, and other fire. now infinitude is nothing else but a boundless series of all these. but if you ask me, how these worlds have been made, seeing holy scripture speaks only of one that god made? my answer is, that i have no more to say: for to oblige me to give a reason for every thing that comes into my imagination, is to stop my mouth, and make me confess that in things of that nature my reason shall always stoop to faith." he ingeniously[8] acknowledged to me that his question was to be censured, but bid me pursue my notion: so that i went on, and told him, that all the other worlds, which are not seen, or but imperfectly believed, are no more but the scum that purges out of the suns. for how could these great fires subsist without some matter, that served them for fewel? now as the fire drives from it the ashes that would stifle it, or the gold in a crucible separates from the marcasite[9] and dross, and is refined to the highest standard; nay, and as our stomack discharges it self by vomit, of the crudities that oppress it; even so these suns daily evacuate, and reject the remains of matter that might incommode their fire: but when they have wholly consumed that matter which entertains[10] them; you are not to doubt, but they spread themselves abroad on all sides to seek for fresh fewel, and fasten upon the worlds which heretofore they have made, and particularly upon those that are nearest: then these great fires, reconcocting all the bodies, will as formerly force them out again, pell-mell, from all parts; and being by little and little purified, they'll begin to serve for suns to other little worlds, which they procreate by driving them out of their spheres: and that without doubt, made the _pythagoreans_ foretel the universal conflagration. "this is no ridiculous imagination, for _new-france_ where we are, gives us a very convincing instance of it. the vast continent of _america_ is one half of the earth, which in spight of our predecessors, who a thousand times had cruised the ocean, was not at that time discovered: nor, indeed, was it then in being, no more than a great many islands, peninsules, and mountains that have since started up in our globe, when the sun purged out its excrements to a convenient distance, and of a sufficient gravity to be attracted by the center of our world; either in small particles, perhaps, or, it may be also, altogether in one lump. that is not so unreasonable but that _st. austin_[11] would have applauded to it, if that country had been discovered in his age. seeing that great man, who had a very clear wit, assures us, that in his time the earth was flat like the floor of an oven, and that it floated upon the water, like the half of an orange: but if ever i have the honour to see you in _france_, i'll make you observe, by means of a most excellent celescope, that some obscurities, which from hence appear to be spots, are worlds a forming." my eyes that shut with this discourse, obliged the vice-roy to withdraw. [1] in connection with this discussion it is to be remembered that nearly two centuries were required for the copernican system, promulgated in 1543, in the de orbium _coelestium revolutionibus_, to become generally popularized; and that in 1633, only sixteen years before the _voyage to the moon_ was written, galileo had been compelled by the inquisition to deny the motion of the earth. [2] according to the ptolemaic system, still generally accepted by "modern philosophers" at the time of cyrano's writing, the fixed stars, the sun, the moon, and each of the five (then known) planets, revolved about the earth in different orbits, according to various "epicycles" and "excentrics." [3] the motion of the moon, for instance, was explained in the ptolemaic system as an epicycle carried by an excentric; the centre of the excentric moving about the earth in a direction opposite to that of the epicycle. [4] the french has: "of the _two_ other motions": _i.e._, the movement of the fixed stars, and that of the planets. [5] _gassendus_ or _gassendi_ was cyrano's own teacher of philosophy. of provençal origin, and at first professor in the university of aix, he came to paris in 1641, and gave both private lessons and public courses as professor of the collège royal. it was in one of his private classes that cyrano was a fellow-student with chapelle, hesnaut, bernier, and almost certainly molière; the most important group of young "libertins" (_i.e._ free-thinkers) of the epoch. gassendi was a bitter opponent of the supposedly aristotelian school-philosophy of the time; and was on the whole the leader of those who in the seventeenth century followed epicurean methods in thought. he is the author of a life of epicurus, and an exposition of his philosophy. he was also an opponent of descartes, being the most important contemporary supporter of empiricism as against the essentially idealistic method of descartes. he is important also as a popularizer of the copernican system, by his life of copernicus, and his _institutio astronomica_ (1647). [6] a dog trained to turn a spit, by running about in a rotary cage attached to it. the french has simply: "as a _dog_ makes a wheel turn, when he runs about in it." [7] cyrano had probably learned this from his master gassendi. _cf_. his "epistola xx. de apparente magnitudine solis," 1641. modern gassendis say the sun is 1,300,000 times greater than the earth in volume, 316,000 times in mass. [8] _ingenuously_. the two words were interchangeable in the seventeenth century. [9] iron pyrites. [10] _supports, feeds_; cf. shakspere, _richard iii_. "i'll be at charges for a looking-glass, and entertain a score or two of tailors." [11] st. augustine. chapter iv. _of how at last he set out again for the moon, tho without his own will._ next day, and the days following, we had some discourses to the same purpose: but some time after, since the hurry of affairs suspended our philosophy, i fell afresh upon the design of mounting up to the moon. so soon as she was up, i walked about musing in the woods, how i might manage and succeed in my enterprise; and at length on st. john's[1] eve, when they were at council in the fort, whether they should assist the wild natives of the country against the _iroqueans_; i went all alone to the top of a little hill at the back of our habitation, where i put in practice what you shall hear. i had made a machine which i fancied might carry me up as high as i pleased, so that nothing seeming to be wanting to it, i placed my self within, and from the top of a rock threw my self in the air: but because i had not taken my measures aright, i fell with a sosh in the valley below. bruised as i was, however, i returned to my chamber without loosing courage, and with beef-marrow i anointed my body, for i was all over mortified from head to foot: then having taken a dram of cordial waters to strengthen my heart, i went back to look for my machine; but i could not find it, for some soldiers, that had been sent into the forest to cut wood for a bonnefire, meeting with it by chance, had carried it with them to the fort: where after a great deal of guessing what it might be, when they had discovered the invention of the spring, some said, that a good many fire-works should be fastened to it, because their force carrying them up on high, and the machine playing its large wings, no body but would take it for a fiery dragon. in the mean time i was long in search of it, but found it at length in the market-place of kebeck (quebec), just as they were setting fire to it. i was so transported with grief, to find the work of my hands in so great peril, that i ran to the souldier that was giving fire to it, caught hold of his arm, pluckt the match out of his hand, and in great rage threw my self into my machine, that i might undo the fire-works that they had stuck about it; but i came too late, for hardly were both my feet within, when whip, away went i up in a cloud. the horror and consternation i was in did not so confound the faculties of my soul, but i have since remembered all that happened to me at that instant. for so soon as the flame had devoured one tier of squibs, which were ranked by six and six, by means of a train that reached every half-dozen, another tier went off, and then another;[2] so that the salt-peter taking fire, put off the danger by encreasing it. however, all the combustible matter being spent, there was a period put to the fire-work; and whilst i thought of nothing less than to knock my head against the top of some mountain, i felt, without the least stirring, my elevation continuing; and adieu machine, for i saw it fall down again towards the earth. [illustration: cyrano en route for the moon.--from a 17th century engraving.] that extraordinary adventure puffed up my heart with so uncommon a gladness; that, ravished to see my self delivered from certain danger, i had the impudence to philosophize upon it. whilst then with eyes and thought i cast about to find what might be the cause of it, i perceived my flesh blown up, and still greasy with the marrow, that i had daubed my self over with for the bruises of my fall: i knew that the moon being then in the wain, and that it being usual for her in that quarter to suck up the marrow of animals, she drank up that wherewith i was anointed, with so much the more force that her globe was nearer to me, and that no interposition of clouds weakened her attraction.[3] when i had, according to the computation i made since, advanced a good deal more than three quarters of the space that divided the earth from the moon; all of a sudden i fell with my heels up and head down, though i had made no trip; and indeed, i had not been sensible of it, had not i felt my head loaded under the weight of my body: the truth is, i knew very well that i was not falling again towards our world; for though i found my self to be betwixt two moons, and easily observed, that the nearer i drew to the one, the farther i removed from the other; yet i was certain, that ours was the bigger globe of the two: because after one or two days journey, the remote refractions of the sun, confounding the diversity of bodies and climates, it appeared to me only as a large plate of gold: that made me imagine, that i byassed[4] towards the moon; and i was confirmed in that opinion, when i began to call to mind, that i did not fall till i was past three quarters of the way. for, said i to my self, that mass being less than ours, the sphere of its activity must be of less extent also; and by consequence, it was later before i felt the force of its center. [1] the feast of st. john the baptist, june 24. [2] _cf_. the play of _cyrano de bergerac_, act iii., scene xi.: "or else, mechanic as well as artificer, i could have fashioned a giant grasshopper, with steel joints, which, impelled by successive explosions of saltpetre, would have hopped with me to the azure meadows where graze the starry flocks." [3] _cf_., in the play, the fifth of cyrano's means for scaling the sky: "since phoebe, the moon-goddess, when she is at wane, is greedy, o beeves! of your marrow,... with that marrow have besmeared myself!" [4] the translator has apparently misread _biaisais_ where the french editions have _baissais_: _i.e._, i _was descending_ toward the moon. chapter v. _of his arrival there, and of the beauty of that country in which he fell._ in fine, after i had been a very long while in falling, as i judged, for the violence of my precipitation hindered me from observing it more exactly: the last thing i can remember is, that i found my self under a tree, entangled with three or four pretty large branches which i had broken off by my fall; and my face besmeared with an apple, that had dashed against it. by good luck that place was, as you shall know by and by * * * * * *[1] that you may very well conclude, that had it not been for that chance, if i had had a thousand lives, they had been all lost. i have many times since reflected upon the vulgar opinion, that if one precipitate himself from a very high place, his breath is out before he reach the ground; and from my adventure i conclude it to be false, or else that the efficacious juyce of that fruit,[2] which squirted into my mouth, must needs have recalled my soul, that was not far from my carcass, which was still hot and in a disposition of exerting the functions of life. the truth is, so soon as i was upon the ground my pain was gone, before i could think what it was; and the hunger, which i felt during my voyage, was fully satisfied with the sense that i had lost it.[3] when i was got up, i had hardly taken notice of the largest of four great rivers, which by their conflux make a lake; when the spirit, or invisible soul, of plants that breath upon that country, refreshed my brain with a delightful smell: and i found that the stones there were neither hard nor rough; but that they carefully softened themselves when one trode upon them. [4] i presently lighted upon a walk with five avenues, in figure like to a star; the trees whereof seemed to reach up to the skie, a green plot of lofty boughs: casting up my eyes from the root to the top, and then making the same survey downwards, i was in doubt whether the earth carried them, or they the earth, hanging by their roots: their high and stately forehead seemed also to bend, as it were by force, under the weight of the celestial globes; and one would say, that their sighs and out-stretched arms, wherewith they embraced the firmament, demanded of the stars the bounty of their purer influences before they had lost any thing of their innocence in the contagious bed of the elements. the flowers there on all hands, without the aid of any other gardiner but nature, send out so sweet (though wild) a perfume, that it rouzes and delights the smell: there the incarnate of a rose upon the bush, and the lively azure of a violet under the rushes, captivating the choice, make each of themselves to be judged the fairest: there the whole year is spring; there no poysonous plant sprouts forth, but is as soon destroyed; there the brooks by an agreeable murmuring, relate their travels to the pebbles; there thousands of quiristers make the woods resound with their melodious notes; and the quavering clubs of these divine musicians are so universal, that every leaf of the forest seems to have borrowed the tongue and shape of a nightingale; nay, and the nymph _eccho_ is so delightful[5] with their airs, that to hear her repeat, one would say, she were sollicitous to learn them. on the sides of that wood are two meadows, whose continued verdure seems an emerauld reaching out of sight. the various colours, which the spring bestows upon the numerous little flowers that grow there, so delightfully confounds and mingles their shadows, that it is hard to be known, whether these flowers shaken with a gentle breeze pursue themselves, or fly rather from the caresses of the wanton _zephyrus_; one would likewise take that meadow for an ocean, because, as the sea, it presents no shoar to the view; insomuch, that mine eye fearing it might lose it self, having roamed so long, and discovered no coast, sent my thoughts presently thither; and my thoughts, imagining it to be the end of the world, were willing to be perswaded, that such charming places had perhaps forced the heavens to descend and join the earth there. in the midst of that vast and pleasant carpet, a rustick fountain bubbles up in silver purles, crowning its enamelled banks with sets of violets, and multitudes of other little flowers, that seem to strive which shall first behold it self in that chrystal myrroir: it is as yet in the cradle, being but newly born, and its young and smooth face shews not the least wrinkle. the large compasses it fetches, in circling within it self, demonstrate its unwillingness to leave its native soyl: and as if it had been ashamed to be caressed in presence of its mother, with a murmuring it thrust back my hand that would have touched it: the beasts that came to drink there, more rational than those of our world, seemed surprised to see it day upon the horizon, whilst the sun was with the _antipodes_; and durst not bend downwards upon the brink, for fear of falling into the firmament. i must confess to you, that at the sight of so many fine things, i found my self tickled with these agreeable twitches, which they say the _embryo_ feels upon the infusion of its soul: my old hair fell off, and gave place for thicker and softer locks: i perceived my youth revived, my face grow ruddy, my natural heat mingle gently again with my radical moisture: and in a word, i grew younger again by at least fourteen years. [1] "that place was," unquestionably, the garden of eden, which cyrano heretically locates in the moon; and the "tree" turough which he has fallen, and an "apple" of which has besmeared his face and recalled him to life, is the tree of life, that stood "in the midst of the garden." this is the first of a series of hiatuses, which occur in all the french editions as well as the english, and which are marked by those stars that cyrano refers to in the play: "but i intend setting all this down in a book, and the golden stars i have brought back caught in my shaggy mantle, when the book is printed, will be seen serving as asterisks." lebret speaks of these gaps in his preface, saying he would have tried to fill them but for fear of mixing his style with cyrano's: "for the melancholy colour of my style will not let me imitate the gayety of his; nor can my wit follow the fine flights of his imagination." it seems altogether improbable, however, that cyrano himself left the work thus incomplete, as lebret would imply. and in fact we can supply from a manuscript recently acquired (1890) by the _bibliothèque nationale_, a long passage not printed by lebret (see pp. 60 ff.*). there can be little doubt that the passages were deliberately _cut out_ by some one on account of their "heretical" character. it even seems probable, from passages at the beginning of the _voyage to the sun_, that when the work was circulated in manuscript, cyrano had been the object of persecution on account of them. (*search: start p. 60: "the earth, i threw out my bowl...") the passages lacking were cut out then but by whom? the usually accepted opinion is that of our english translator, who says the gaps are "occasioned, not by the negligence of our witty french author, but by the accursed plagiary of some rude hand, that in his sickness rifted his trunks and stole his papers, as he himself complains." m. brun has suggested, however, and with some plausibility, that lebret himself was responsible for the omissions; and that he thus continued, after cyrano's death, his lifelong attempts at reforming and toning down the impolitic, unorthodox notions of his too-independent friend. so cyrano was conquered once more in his battle with "les compromis, les préjugés, les lâchètes," and finally "la sottise": "je sais bien qu' à la fin vous me mettrez à bas; n'importe! je me bats, je me bats, je me bats!" we are proud of printing for the first time in any edition of the _voyage to the moon_, at least a part of what had been cut out; and of being able to indicate for the first time what must have been the substance of the other lost passages, and what is the sense of the fragments preserved. [2] the apple of the tree of life. [3] the translation is not fully adequate here; the french means: "... was fully satisfied, and left me in its place only a slight memory of having lost it." [4] this beautiful nature-description, the like of which cannot be found in all seventeenth-century french literature outside of cyrano's works, was apparently his favorite passage, since it is the only one he has used twice. _cf_. his _lettre xi_., "d'une maison de campagne." [5] in the literal sense, _full of delight_, delighted. chapter vi. _of a youth whom he met there, and of their conversation: what that country was, and the inhabitants of it._ i had advanced half a league, through a forest of jessamines and myrtles, when i perceived something that stirred, lying in the shade: it was a youth, whose majestick beauty forced me almost to adoration. he started up to hinder me; crying, "it is not to me but to god that you owe these humilities." "you see one," answered i, "stunned with so many wonders that i know not what to admire most; for coming from a world, which without doubt you take for a moon here, i thought i had arrived in another, which our worldlings call a moon also; and behold i am in paradice at the feet of a god, who will not be adored." "except the quality[1] of a god," replied he, "whose creature i only am, the rest you say is true: this land is the moon, which you see from your globe, and this place where you are is * * * * * * * * "[2] "now at that time man's imagination was so strong, as not being as yet corrupted, neither by debauches, the crudity of aliments, nor the alterations of diseases, that being excited by a violent desire of coming to this sanctuary, and his body becoming light through the heat of this inspiration; he was carried thither in the same manner, as some philosophers, who having fixed their imagination upon the contemplation of a certain object have sprung up in the air by ravishments, which you call extasies. the woman, who through the infirmity of her sex was weaker and less hot, could not, without doubt, have the imagination strong enough to make the intension of her will prevail over the ponderousness of her matter; but because there were very few * * * * the sympathy which still united that half to its whole,[3] drew her towards him as he mounted up, as the amber attracts the straw, [as] the load-stone turns towards the north from whence it hath been taken, and drew to him that part of himself, as the sea draws the rivers which proceed from it. when they arrived in your earth, they dwelt betwixt _mesopotamia_ and _arabia_:[4] some people knew them by the name of * * * *,[5] and others under that of _prometheus_, whom the poets feigned to have stolen fire from heaven, by reason of his offspring, who were endowed with a soul as perfect as his own: so that to inhabit your world, that man left this destitute; but the all-wise would not have so blessed an habitation, to remain without inhabitants; he suffered a few ages after that * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[6] cloyed with the company of men, whose innocence was corrupted, had a desire to forsake them. this person,[7] however, thought no retreat secure enough from the ambition of men, who already murdered one another about the distribution of your world; except that blessed land, which his grand-father[8] had so often mentioned unto him, and to which no body had as yet found out the way: but his imagination supplied that; for seeing he had observed that * * * he filled two large vessels which he sealed hermetically, and fastened them under his armpits: so soon as the smoak began to rise upwards, and could not pierce through the mettal, it forced up the vessels on high, and with them also that great man.[9] when he was got as high as the moon, and had cast his eyes upon that lovely garden, a fit of almost supernatural joy convinced him, that that was the place where his grandfather had heretofore lived. he quickly untied the vessels, which he had girt like wings about his shoulders, and did it so luckily, that he was scarcely four fathom in the air above the moon, when he set his fins a going;[10] yet he was high enough still to have been hurt by the fall, had it not been for the large skirts of his gown, which being swelled by the wind, gently upheld him till he set foot on ground.[11] as for the two vessels, they mounted up to a certain place, where they have continued: and those are they, which now a-days you call the _balance_. "i must now tell you, the manner how i came hither: i believe you have not forgot my name,[12] seeing it is not long since i told it you. you shall know then, that i lived on the agreeable banks of one of the most renowned rivers of your world, where amongst my books, i lead a life pleasant enough not to be lamented, though it slipt away fast enough. in the mean while, the more i encreased in knowledge, the more i knew my ignorance. our learned men never put me in mind of the famous _mada_,[13] but the thoughts of his perfect philosophy made me to sigh. i was despairing of being able to attain to it, when one day, after a long and profound studying. i took a piece of load-stone about two foot square, which i put into a furnace; and then after it was well purged, precipitated and dissolved, i drew the calcined attractive of it, and reduced it into the size of about an ordinary bowl.[14] "after the preparations, i got a very light machine of iron made, into which i went, and when i was well seated in my place, i threw this magnetick bowl as high as i could up into the air. now the iron machine, which i had purposely made more massive in the middle than at the ends, was presently elevated, and in a just poise; because the middle received the greatest force of attraction. so then, as i arrived at the place whither my load-stone had attracted me, i presently threw up my bowl in the air over me."[15] "but," said i, interrupting him, "how came you to heave up your bowl so streight over your chariot, that it never happened to be on one side of it?" "that seems to me to be no wonder at all," said he; "for the load-stone being once thrown up in the air, drew the iron streight towards it; and so it was impossible, that ever i should mount sideways. nay more, i can tell you, that when i held the bowl in my hand, i was still mounting upwards; because the chariot flew always to the load-stone, which i held over it. but the effort of the iron to be united to my bowl, was so violent that it made my body bend double; so that i durst but once essay that new experiment. the truth is, it was a very surprizing spectacle to behold; for the steel of that flying house, which i had very carefully polished, reflected on all sides the light of the sun with so great life and lustre, that i thought my self to be all on fire.[16] in fine, after often bowling and following of my cast, i came, as you did, to an elevation from which i descended towards this world; and because at that instant i held my bowl very fast between my hands, my machine, whereof the seat pressed me hard, that it might approach its attractive, did not forsake me; all that now i feared was, that i should break my neck: but to save me from that, ever now and then i tossed up my bowl; that by its attractive virtue it might prevent the violent descent of my machine, and render my fall more easie, as indeed it happened; for when i saw my self within two or three hundred fathom of the earth, i threw out my bowl on all hands, level with the chariot, sometimes on this side, and sometimes on that, until i came to a certain distance; and immediately then, i tossed it up above me; so that my machine following it, i left it, and let my self fall on the other side, as gently as i could, upon the sand; insomuch that my fall was no greater than if it had been but my own height. i shall not describe to you the amazement i was in at the sight of the wonders of this place, seeing it was so like the same, wherewith i just now saw you seized. [17] you shall know then, that on the morrow i met with the tree of life, by the means of which i have kept my self from growing old; it straightway consumed the serpent[18] and made him to vanish away in smoke." at these words: "venerable and holy patriarch," said i to him, "i am eager to know what you understand by that serpent which was consumed." he, with face a smiling, answered me thus:...[19] "the tree of knowledge is planted opposite; its fruit is covered with a rind which produces ignorance in whomsoever hath tasted thereof; yet this rind preserves underneath its thickness all the spiritual virtues of this learned food. god, when he had driven adam from this fortunate country, rubbed his gums with this same rind, that he might never find the way back again; for more than fifteen years thereafter he did dote, and did so completely forget all things, that neither he nor any of his descendants till moses ever remembered even so much as the creation; but what power was left of this direful rind at last passed away through the warmth and brightness of that great prophet's genius. "i happily met with one among these apples, which through ripeness was despoiled of its skin; hardly had my mouth watered with it, when universal knowledge penetrated my being, i felt as it were an infinite number of eyes fix themselves in my head, and i knew the means of speaking with the lord. "when i have since reflected on these miraculous events, i have judged that i could in no wise have overcome, by any occult powers of a simple natural body, the vigilance of that seraph whom god has ordained to guard this paradise; but since he is pleased to use _second causes_, i imagined that he had inspired me to find this means of entering there; even as he thought good to take of the ribs of adam to make him a wife, though he could form her of earth, as well as he did adam. "i remained long in this garden, walking about alone; but in fine, since the angel that was keeper of the gate seemed to me to be in chief my host here, i was taken with the desire to salute him. in an hour's journey i came to a place where a thousand lightnings mingled together in one blinding light that served but to make darkness visible. i was not yet fully recovered from this dazzlement, when i saw before me a beautiful young man. 'i am,' said he, 'the archangel whom you seek, i have but now read in god that he had inspired you with the means of coming here, and that he willed you should here expect his pleasure.' he talked with me of many things, and told me among the rest: "that the light wherewith i had been amazed was nothing fearful, but that it appeared almost every evening when he went his rounds, seeing that to avoid sudden attack from the evil spirits, which may enter secretly at any place, he was constrained mightily to swing his flaming sword in circles, all about the bounds of the earthly paradise; and that the light i had seen was the lightnings which the steel of it gave forth. 'those also which you perceive from your earth,' he added, 'are of my creation. and if sometimes you see them at a great distance, it is because the clouds of some distant region hold themselves in such disposition as to receive an impression of these unbodied fires, and reflect them to your eyes; just as clouds otherwise disposed may prove themselves fit to make the rainbow.' "i will not instruct you further in these matters, since to be sure the apple of knowledge is not far from hence; whereof as soon as you have eaten, you will know all things even as i. but see you make no mistake, for most of the fruits that hang from that plant are encased in a rind, whose taste will abase you even below man; while the part within will make you mount up to be even as the angels." elijah had come to this point of the teachings of the seraph, when a little short man came up with us; "this is that enoch of whom i told you," said my guide to me apart; and even while he finished the words, enoch offered us a basketful of i know not what fruits, like to pomegranates, which he had but discovered that same day in a distant coppice. i took some and put in my pockets, as elijah bade me. here-upon enoch asked him who i might be. "that is a matter," answered my guide, "to entertain us at more leisure; this evening when we have withdrawn he shall tell us himself of the miraculous particulars of his journey." with these words we arrived beneath a sort of hermitage, made of palm-branches skilfully interlaced with myrtle and orange-branches. there i saw, in a little nook, great piles of a kind of floss-silk, so white and so delicate that one might take it for the virgin soul of the snow; and i saw distaffs lying here and there; whereupon i asked my guide what use they served. "to spin," he answered me; "when the good enoch would relax his mind from meditation, he applies himself sometimes to dressing this lady-distaff, sometimes to weaving the cloth from which they make shifts for the eleven thousand virgins. surely in your world you have met with that something white, which flutters on the winds in autumn about the season of the winter-sowings. your peasant-folk call it our lady's cotton, but it is no other than the flock that enoch purges his linen of, when he cards it." we made little delay there, and but barely took leave of enoch, whom this cabin served for his cell; in truth what made us leave him so soon was this: that he said some prayer there every six hours; and it was at least that time since he had finished the last one. as we went forward, i begged elijah to finish that history which he had begun, of the _assumptions_ or _translations_; and i said, that he had come, i thought, to that of saint _john_ the evangelist. then said he to me: "since you have not the patience, to wait till the apple of knowledge teach you all these things better than i can, i will even tell you. know then that god----" at this word, in some way i know not how, the devil would have his finger in that pie; or howsoever it came about, so it was that i could not forbear interrupting him with raillery. "i remember that case," said i: "god heard one day that the soul of the evangelist was so loosed from his body, that he no more kept it in but by shutting his teeth hard; and at that moment the hour when he had foreseen that he should be translated hither was almost past; so having no time to get him a machine made ready for coming, he was constrained to make him suddenly _be_ here, without having time to _bring_ him." during all my discourse elijah bent upon me such a look, as would have been fit to kill me, had i then been capable of dying from aught but hunger. "thou wretch," said he, and drew back in horror, "thou hast the insolence to rail at holy things! surely thou shouldst not go unpunished, were it not that the all-wise determines to spare thee as a marvellous example of his long-suffering, a witness to the nations. get hence, thou blasphemer, go thou and publish in this little world, and in the other (for thou art predestined to return thither), the unforgetting hatred that god bears to atheists." hardly had he finished this curse, when he seized me roughly to drag me toward the gate. when we were arrived beside a great tree whose branches bent almost to earth with the burden of their fruit, "here," said he, "is that tree of knowledge where thou shouldst have got enlightenment inconceivable, but for thy infidelity." at that word i feigned to swoon with weakness, and letting my self fall against a low branch i handily filched an apple from it. and in but a few strides more i was set down outside of that delicious garden. in that moment, being so violently pressed by hunger, that i even forgot i was in the grip of the angry prophet, i drew from my pocket one of those apples i had filled it with, wherein i buried my teeth as deep as i could. but so it was, that in place of taking one of those enoch had given me, my hand fell on that very apple i had plucked from the tree of knowledge, which for my misfortune i had not freed of its rind.] [20] scarcely had i tasted it, when a thick cloud overcast my soul: i saw no body now near me; and in the whole hemisphere my eyes could not discern the least tract of the way i had made; yet nevertheless i fully remembered every thing that befel me. when i reflected since upon that miracle, i fanced that the skin of the fruit which i bit had not rendered me altogether brutish; because my teeth piercing through it were a little moistened by the juyce within, the efficacy whereof had dissipated the malignities of the rind. i was not a little surprised to see my self all alone, in a country i knew not. it was to no purpose for me to stare and look about me; for no creature appeared to comfort me. [1] "quality" = _title_--as often in the seventeenth century; _cf_. shakspere, _henry v_.: "gentlemen of blood and quality." [2] probably a long passage has been lost here, in which the "youth" (the prophet elijah, who had "translated" himself hither and become young by eating of the tree of life) describes the place where they are as the original garden of eden; and tells of the creation, the fall, and the banishment of adam and eve. at the beginning of the next paragraph he is still speaking, and telling of adam's transference from the moon to the earth. [3] the woman to the man, from whose side she was taken. probably only a few words have been omitted at the last hiatus. [4] the supposed situation of the earthly paradise. [5] adam and eve. [6] we may imagine this a short hiatus, to be filled in as follows: "he suffered a few ages after that, _that a holy man, whose name was enoch_, cloyed with the company of men...." etc. [7] enoch. on his translation, which cyrano here makes elijah account for, see genesis, chapter v. [8] adam. cyrano may possibly have confused the enoch who was translated with another enoch who was the son of cain and so grandson of adam. but it is more probable that he used the word _aïeul_ in its common sense of _ancestor_; as indeed "grandfather" was used in old english. [9] _cf_. the play: "since smoke by its nature ascends, i could have blown into an appropriate globe a sufficient quantity to ascend with me." [10] "qu'il prit congé de ses nageoires," = "when he _abandoned_ his _floats_ (or _bladders_)." [11] cyrano may here be credited with anticipating the idea of the parachute. [12] elijah, the passage referred to is lost. [13] spell the name backward. [14] _ball_ cf. _bowling_. cf. also p. 177. (search: start p. 177: "... mentally divided every little visible body...") [15] _cf_. the "sixth means" in the play: "or else, i could have placed myself upon an iron plate, have taken a magnet of suitable size, and thrown it in the air! that way is a very good one! the magnet flies upward, the iron instantly after; the magnet no sooner overtaken than you fling it up again.... the rest is clear! you can go upward indefinitely." [16] the "chariot of fire" in which elijah was taken up into heaven. _cf_. 2 kings, ii. 11. [17] the following pages are translated from the text as printed for the first time, from the manuscript at the _bibliothèque nationale_, in an appendix to m. brun's thesis on cyrano bergerac, 1893. [18] "the serpent," as soon appears, is original sin, which "brought _death_ into the world, and all our woe." [19] our author's treatment of "original sin" is, according to m. brun, unprintable. [20] here the original text resumes, as found in all the editions, both french and english. chapter vii. _being cast out from that country, of the new_ _adventures which befell him; and of the_ demon _of_ socrates. at length i resolved to march forwards, till fortune should afford me the company of some beasts, or at least the means of dying. she favourably granted my desire; for within half a quarter of a league, i met two huge animals, one of which stopt before me, and the other fled swiftly to its den; for so i thought at least; because that some time after, i perceived it come back again in company of above seven or eight hundred of the same kind, who beset me. when i could discern them at a near distance, i perceived that they were proportioned and shaped like us. this adventure brought into my mind the old wives tales of my nurse concerning _syrenes, faunes_ and _satyrs_: ever now and then they raised such furious shouts, occasioned undoubtedly by their admiration[1] at the sight of me, that i thought i was e'en turned a monster. at length one of these beast-like men, catching hold of me by the neck, just as wolves do when they carry away sheep, tossed me upon his back and brought me into their town; where i was more amazed than before, when i knew they were men, that i could meet with none of them but who marched upon all four. when these people saw that i was so little, (for most of them are twelve cubits long,) and that i walked only upon two legs, they could not believe me to be a man: for they were of opinion, that nature having given to men as well as beasts two legs and two arms, they should both make use of them alike. and, indeed, reflecting upon that since, that scituation of body did not seem to me altogether extravagant; when i called to mind, that whilst children are still under the nurture of nature, they go upon all four, and that they rise not on their two legs but by the care of their nurses; who set them in little running chairs, and fasten straps to them, to hinder them from falling on all four, as the only posture that the shape of our body naturally inclines to rest in. they said then, (as i had it interpreted to me since) that i was infallibly the female of the queens little animal. and therefore as such, or somewhat else, i was carried streight to the town-house, where i observed by the muttering and gestures both of the people and magistrates, that they were consulting what sort of a thing i could be. when they had conferred together a long while, a certain burgher, who had the keeping of the strange beasts, besought the mayor and aldermen to commit me to his custody, till the queen should send for me to couple me to my male. this was granted without any difficulty, and that juggler carried me to his house; where he taught me to tumble, vault, make mouths, and shew a hundred odd tricks, for which in the afternoons he received money at the door from those that came in to see me. but heaven pitying my sorrows, and vext to see the temple of its maker profaned, so ordered it, that one day [when] i was tied to a rope, wherewith the mountebank made me leap and skip to divert the people, i heard a man's voice, who asked me what i was, in greek. i was much surprised to hear one speak in that country as they do in our world. he put some questions to me, which i answered, and then gave him a full account of my whole design, and the success of my travels: he took the pains to comfort me, and, as i take it, said to me: "well, son, at length you suffer for the frailties of your world: there is a mobile[2] here, as well as there, that can sway with nothing but what they are accustomed to: but know, that you are but justly served; for had any one of this earth had the boldness to mount up to yours, and call himself a man, your sages would have destroyed him as a monster." [sidenote: the demon of socrates] he then told me, that he would acquaint the court with my disaster; adding, that so soon as he had heard the news that went of me, he came to see me, and was satisfied that i was a man of the world of which i said i was; because he had travelled there formerly, and sojourned in _greece_, where he was called the _demon of socrates_: that after the death of that philosopher, he had governed and taught _epaminondas_ at _thebes_: after which being gone over to the _romans_, justice had obliged him to espouse the party of the younger _cato_: that after his death, he had addicted himself to brutus: that all these great men having left in that world no more but the shadow of their virtues, he with his companions had retreated to temples and solitudes. "in a word," added he, "the people of your world became so dull and stupid, that my companions and i lost all the pleasure that formerly we had had in instructing them: not but that you have heard men talk of us; for they called us _oracles, nymphs, geniuses, fairies, houshold-gods, lemmes_,[3] _larves_[4] _lamiers_,[5] _hobgoblins, nayades, incubusses, shades, manes, visions_ and _apparitions_: we abandoned your world, in the reign of _augustus_, not long after i had appeared to _drusus_ the son of _livia_, who waged war in _germany_, whom i forbid to proceed any farther. it is not long since i came from thence a second time; within these hundred years i had a commission to travel thither: i roamed a great deal in _europe_, and conversed with some, whom possibly you may have known. one day, amongst others, i appeared to _cardan_,[6] as he was at his study; i taught him a great many things, and he in acknowledgment promised me to inform posterity of whom he had those wonders, which he intended to leave in writing.[7] there i saw _agrippa_[8] the abbot _trithemius_[9] doctor _faustus_, _la brosse_, _cæsar_,[10] and a certain cabal of young men, who are commonly called _rosacrucians_[11] or _knights of the red cross_, whom i taught a great many knacks and secrets of nature, which without doubt have made them pass for great magicians: i knew _campanella_[12] also; it was i that advised him, whilst he was in the inquisition at _rome_, to put his face and body into the usual postures of those whose inside he needed to know, that by the same frame of body he might excite in himself the thoughts which the same scituation had raised in his adversaries; because by so doing, he might better manage their soul, when he came to know it; and at my desire he began a book, which we entituled, _de sensu rerum_.[13] "i likewise haunted, in _france, la mothe le vayer_[14] and _gassendus_;[15] this last hath written as much like a philosopher, as the other lived: i have known a great many more there, whom your age call _divines_[16] but all that i could find in them was a great deal of babble and a great deal of pride. in fine, since i past over from your country into _england_, to acquaint my self with the manners of its inhabitants, i met with a man, the shame of his country; for certainly it is a great shame for the grandees of your states to know the virtue which in him has its throne, and not to adore him: that i may give you an abridgement of his panegyrick, he is all wit, all heart, and possesses all the qualities, of which one alone was heretofore sufficient to make an heroe: it was _tristan_ the hermite.[17] the truth is, i must tell you, when i perceived so exalted a virtue i mistrusted it would not be taken notice of, and therefore i endeavoured to make him accept three vials, the first filled with the oyl of talk,[18] the other with the powder of projection,[19] and the third with _aurum potabile_;[20] but he refused them with a more generous disdain than _diogenes_ did the complements of _alexander_. in fine, i can add nothing to the elogy[21] of that great man, but that he is the only poet, the only philosopher, and the only freeman amongst you: these are the considerable persons that i conversed with; all the rest, at least that i know, are so far below man that i have seen beasts somewhat above them. "after all, i am not a native neither of this country nor yours, i was born in the sun; but because sometimes our world is overstock'd with people, by reason of the long lives of the inhabitants, and that there is hardly any wars or diseases amongst them: our magistrates, from time to time, send colonies into the neighbouring worlds. for my own part, i was commanded to go to yours; being declared chief of the colony that accompanyed me. i came since into this world, for the reasons i told you; and that which makes me continue here, is, because the men are great lovers of truth; and have no pedants among them; that the philosophers are never perswaded but by reason, and that the authority of a doctor, or of a great number, is not preferred before the opinion of a thresher in a barn, when he has right on his side. in short, none are reckoned madmen in this country, but sophisters and orators." i asked him how they lived? he made answer, three or four thousand years; and thus went on: "though the inhabitants of the sun be not so numerous as those of this world; yet the sun is many times over stocked, because the people being of a hot constitution are stirring and ambitious, and digest much." "you ought not to be surprised at what i tell you; for though our globe be very vast, and yours little, though we die not before the end of four thousand years, and you at the end of fifty; yet know, that as there are not so many stones as clods of earth, nor so many animals as plants, nor so many men as beasts; just so there ought not to be so many spirits as men, by reason of the difficulties that occur in the generation of a perfect creature." i asked him, if they were bodies as we are? he made answer, that they were bodies, but not like us, nor any thing else which we judged such; because we call nothing a body commonly, but what we can touch: that, in short, there was nothing in nature but what was material; and that though they themselves were so, yet they were forced, when they had a mind to appear to us, to take bodies proportionated to what our senses are able to know; and that, without doubt, that was the reason why many have taken the stories that are told of them for the delusions of a weak fancy, because they only appeared in the night time: he told me withal, that seeing they were necessitated to piece together the bodies they were to make use of, in great haste, many times they had not leisure enough to render them the objects of more senses than one at a time, sometimes of the hearing, as the voices of _oracles_, sometimes of the sight, as the _fires_ and _visions_, sometimes of the feeling, as the _incubusses_; and that these bodies being but air condensed in such or such a manner, the light dispersed them by its heat, in the same manner as it scatters a mist. so many fine things as he told me, gave me the curiosity to question him about his birth and death; if in the country of the sun, the _individual_ was procreated by the ways of generation, and if it died by the dissolution of its constitution, or the discomposure of its organs? "your senses," replied he, "bear but too little proportion to the explication of these mysteries: ye gentlemen imagine, that whatsoever you cannot comprehend is spiritual, or that it is not at all; but that consequence[22] is absurd, and it is an argument, that there are a million of things, perhaps, in the universe, that would require a million of different organs in you to understand them. for instance, i by my senses know the cause of the sympathy that is betwixt the load-stone and the pole, of the ebbing and flowing of the sea, and what becomes of the animal after death; you cannot reach these high conceptions but by faith, because they are secrets above the power of your intellects; no more than a blind-man can judge of the beauties of a land-skip, the colours of a picture, or the streaks of a rainbow; or at best he will fancy them to be somewhat palpable, to be like eating, a sound, or a pleasant smell: even so, should i attempt to explain to you what i perceive by the senses which you want, you would represent it to your self as somewhat that may be heard, seen, felt, smelt or tasted, and yet it is no such thing." he was gone on so far in his discourse, when my juggler perceived, that the company began to be weary of my gibberish, that they understood not, and which they took to be an inarticulated grunting: he therefore fell to pulling my rope afresh to make me leap and skip, till the spectators having had their belly-fulls of laughing, affirmed that i had almost as much wit as the beasts of their country, and so broke up. [1] astonishment. [2] mobile = people, populace. _cf_. p. 145. (search: start p. 145: "... there he entertained me till suppertime...") [3] lemures; malicious spirits of the dead. _cf_. milton: "the lars and lemures moan with midnight plaint." [4] lars, larvas; ghosts, spectres. [5] lamias; female demons or vampires. [6] _cf_. p. 12 (search: start p. 12: "... accident, providence, fortune, or what...") [7] "jerome cardan pretended to have written most of his books under the dictation of a familiar spirit ... but, in his treatise _de rerum varietate_, he ingenuously declares that he had never had any other genius but his own: _ego certe nullum dæmonem aut genium mihi adesse cognosce_" (note of paul lacroix.) [8] cornelius agrippa of nettesheim, 1486-1535, philosopher, astrologer, and alchemist. cyrano introduces him in his _lettre xii_., "pour les sorciers." [9] jean trithème (or johann tritheim), abbot of spanheim; a man of universal scholarship, and an experimenter in alchemy; also accused of sorcery. [10] césar de nostradamus, physician and astrologer of the early sixteenth century. [11] a famous occult order which probably never existed, but about which much was written in the first half of the seventeenth century. it was supposed to have been founded early in the fifteenth century by rosenkrenz, a pilgrim who had acquired all the wisdom of the orient. [12] tomaso campanella, 1568-1639, italian poet and philosopher, who came to paris in 1634. his philosophy was much admired by cyrano, since he rejected the aristotelism of the schools, advocated empiricism as the only method of arriving at truth, and insisted on the "four elements" as the origin of all things. he appears as an important character in cyrano's _voyage to the sun_, where he is cyrano's companion and guide to the land of the philosophers. [13] campanella's principal work, published in 1620. [14] françois de la mothe le vayer, 1588-1672. he was the tutor of the due d'orléans, brother of louis xiv., and, after 1654, of louis xiv. himself. in philosophy he was a free-thinker, in literature a disciple of montaigne. he nevertheless concealed his scepticism in philosophy, even in his chief work, the _doutes sceptiques_, under a pretended orthodoxy in religion, and so was never persecuted. possibly it is to this that cyrano refers in saying, that he "_lived_ as much like a philosopher, as gassendi wrote." [15] _cf_. p 28, n. 1. (see note 5 chap. iii) [16] _divine_. the translator has mistaken an adjective for a noun. [17] françois tristan thermite, 1601-1655, a french dramatist of importance. his tragedy of _mariamne_, in date contemporary with corneille's _cid_, marks him as a predecessor of racine in method and manner. he is also the author of fugitive verse, but neither that nor his plays make him quite worthy of cyrano's exalted "elogy." he was compelled to pass the years 1614-1620 in england, on account of a duel fought at the age of thirteen! [18] talc, silicate of magnesia. [19] the "philosopher's stone," in form of powder, for chemical "projection" upon baser metals, to transmute them into gold. [20] the "elixir of life," or the "philosopher's stone" in liquid form. [21] _eulogy_. still so used at the end of the eighteenth century. [22] consequence = _conclusion_, deduction. cf. matthew prior: "can syllogisms set things right? no, majors soon with minors fight. or both in friendly consort joined the consequence limps false behind." chapter viii. _of the languages of the people in the moon; of the manner of feeding there, and paying the_ scot; _and of how the author was taken to court_. thus, all the comfort i had during the misery of my hard usage, were the visits of this officious[1] spirit; for you may judge what conversation i could have with these that came to see me, since besides that they only took me for an animal, in the highest class of the _category_ of bruits, i neither understood their language, nor they mine. for you must know, that there are but two idioms in use in that country, one for the grandees, and another for the people in general. [sidenote: languages of the moon] that of the great ones is no more but various inarticulate tones, much like to our musick when the words are not added to the air:[2] and in reality it is an invention both very useful and pleasant; for when they are weary of talking, or disdain to prostitute their throats to that office, they take either a lute or some other instrument, whereby they communicate their thoughts as well as by their tongue: so that sometimes fifteen or twenty in a company will handle a point of divinity, or discuss the difficulties of a law-suit, in the most harmonious consort that ever tickled the ear. the second, which is used by the vulgar, is performed by a shivering of the members, but not, perhaps, as you may imagine; for some parts of the body signifie an entire discourse; for example, the agitation of a finger, a hand, an ear, a lip, an arm, an eye, a cheek, every one severally will make up an oration, or a period with all the parts of it: others serve only instead of words, as the knitting of the brows, the several quiverings of the muscles, the turning of the hands, the stamping of the feet, the contorsion of the arm; so that when they speak, as their custom is, stark naked, their members being used to gesticulate their conceptions, move so quick that one would not think it to be a man that spoke, but a body that trembled. every day almost the spirit came to see me, and his rare conversation made me patiently bear with the rigour of my captivity. at length one morning i saw a man enter my cabbin, whom i knew not, who having a long while licked me gently, took me in his teeth by the shoulder, and with one of his paws, wherewith he held me up for fear i might hurt my self, threw me upon his back; where i found my self so softly seated, and so much at my ease, that, [though] being afflicted to be used like a beast, i had not the least desire of making my escape; and besides, these men that go upon all four are much swifter than we, seeing the heaviest of them make nothing of running down a stagg. in the mean time i was extreamly troubled that i had no news of my courteous spirit; and the first night we came to our inn, as i was walking in the court, expecting till supper should be ready, a pretty handsome young man came smiling in my face and cast his two fore-legs about my neck. after i had a little considered him: "how!" said he in _french_, "do you [not] know your friend then?" i leave you to judge in what case i was at that time; really, my surprise was so great, that i began to imagine, that all the globe of the moon, all that had befallen me, and all that i had seen, had only been enchantment: and that beast-man, who was the same that had carried me all day, continued to speak to me in this manner; "you promised me, that the good offices i did you should never be forgotten, and yet it seems you have never seen me before;" but perceiving me still in amaze: "in fine," said he, "i am that same demon of socrates, who diverted you during your imprisonment, and who, that i may still oblige you, took to my self a body, on which i carried you to day:" "but," said i interrupting him, "how can that be, seeing that all day you were of a very long stature, and now you are very short; that all day long you had a weak and broken voice, and now you have a clear and vigorous one; that, in short, all day long you were a grey-headed old man, and are now a brisk young blade: is it then that whereas in my country, the progress is from life to death; animals here go retrograde from death to life, and by growing old become young again." "so soon as i had spoken to the prince," said he, "and received orders to bring you to court, i went and found you out where you were, and have brought you hither; but the body i acted in was so tired out with the journey, that all its organs refused me their ordinary functions, so that i enquired the way to the hospital; where being come in i found the body of a young man, just then expired by a very odd accident, but yet very common in this country. i drew near him, pretending to find motion in him still, and protesting to those who were present, that he was not dead, and that what they thought to be the cause of his death, was no more but a bare lethargy; so that without being perceived, i put my mouth to his, by which i entered as with a breath: then down dropt my old carcass, and as if i had been that young man, i rose and came to look for you, leaving the spectators crying a miracle." [sidenote: the manner of eating] with this they came to call us to supper, and i followed my guide into a parlour richly furnished; but where i found nothing fit to be eaten. no victuals appearing, when i was ready to die of hunger, made me ask him where the cloath was laid: but i could not hear what he answered, for at that instant three or four young boys, children of the house, drew near, and with much civility stript me to the shirt. this new ceremony so astonished me, that i durst not so much as ask my pretty _valets de chamber_ the cause of it; and i cannot tell how my guide, who asked me what i would begin with, could draw from me these two words, _a potage_; but hardly had i pronounced them, when i smelt the odour of the most agreeable soop that ever steamed in the rich gluttons nose: i was about to rise from my place, that i might trace that delicious scent to its source, but my carrier hindered me: "whither are you going," said he, "we shall fetch a walk by and by; but now it is time to eat, make an end of your _potage_, and then we'll have something else:" "and where the devil is the _potage_?" answered i half angry: "have you laid a wager you'll jeer me all this day?" "i thought," replied he, "that at the town we came from, you had seen your master or some bo[dy] else at meal, and that's the reason i told you not, how people feed in this country. seeing then you are still ignorant, you must know, that here they live on steams. the art of cookery is to shut up in great vessels, made on purpose, the exhalations that proceed from the meat whilst it is a dressing; and when they have provided enough of several sorts and several tastes, according to the appetite of those they treat; they open one vessel where that steam is kept, and after that another; and so on till the company be satisfied. "unless you have already lived after this manner, you would never think, that the nose without teeth and gullet can perform the office of the mouth in feeding a man; but i'll make you experience it your self." he had no sooner said so, but i found so many agreeable and nourishing vapours enter the parlour, one after another, that in less than half a quarter of an hour i was fully satisfied. when we were got up; "this is not a matter," said he, "much to be admired at, seeing you cannot have lived so long, and not have observed, that all sorts of cooks, who eat less than people of another calling, are nevertheless much fatter. whence proceeds that plumpness, d'ye think, unless it be from the steams that continually environ them, which penetrate into their bodies and fatten them? hence it is, that the people of this world enjoy a more steady and vigorous health, by reason that their food hardly engenders any excrements, which are in a manner the original[3] of all diseases. you were, perhaps, surprised, that before supper you were stript, since it is a custom not practised in your country; but it is the fashion of this, and for this end used, that the animal may be the more transpirable to the fumes." "sir," answered i, "there is a great deal of probability in what you say, and i have found somewhat of it my self by experience; but i must frankly tell you, that not being able to unbrute my self so soon, i should be glad to feel something that my teeth might fix upon:" he promised i should, but not before next day; "because," said he, "to eat so soon after your meal would breed crudities." [sidenote: the manner of lighting] after we had discoursed a little longer, we went up to a chamber to take our rest; a man met us on the top of the stairs, who having attentively eyed us, led me into a closet where the floor was strowed with orang-flowers three foot thick, and my spirit into another filled with gilly-flowers and jessamines: perceiving me amazed at that magnificence, he told me they were the beds of the country. in fine, we laid our selves down to rest in our several cells, and so soon as i had stretched my self out upon my flowers, by the light of thirty large glow-worms shut up in a crystal, (being the only candles _charon_ uses,[4]) i perceived the three or four boys who had stript me before supper, one tickling my feet, another my thighs, the third my flanks, and the fourth my arms, and all so delicately and daintily, that in less than in a minute i was fast asleep. next morning by sun-rising my spirit came into my room and said to me, "now i'll be as good as my word, you shall breakfast this morning more solidly that you supped last night." with that i got up, and he led me by the hand to a place at the back of the garden, where one of the children of the house stayed for us, with a piece in his hand much like to one of our fire-locks. he asked my guide if i would have a dozen of larks, because _baboons_ (one of which he took me to be,) loved to feed on them? i had hardly answered, yes, when the fowler discharged a shot, and twenty or thirty larks fell at our feet ready roasted. this, thought i presently with my self, verifies the proverb in our world, of a country where larks fall ready roasted; without doubt it has been made by some body that came from hence. "fall too, fall too," said my spirit, "don't spare; for they have a knack of mingling a certain composition with their powder and shot, which kills, plucks, roasts, and seasons the fowl all at once." i took up some of them, and eat them upon his word; and to say the truth, in all my life time i never eat any thing so delicious. having thus breakfasted we prepared to be gone, and with a thousand odd faces, which they use when they would shew their love, our landlord received a paper from my spirit. i asked him, if it was a note for the reckoning? he replied, no, that all was paid, and that it was a copy of verses. "how! verses," said i, "are your inn-keepers here curious of rhime then?" "it's," said he, "the money of the country, and the charge we have been at here, hath been computed to amount to three _couplets_, or six verses, which i have given him. i did not fear we should outrun the constable; for though we should pamper our selves for a whole week, we could not spend a _sonnet_, and i have four about me, besides two _epigrams_, two _odes_, and an _eclogue_." "would to god," said i, "it were so in our world; for i know a good many honest poets there who are ready to starve, and who might live plentifully if that money would pass in payment." i farther asked him, if these verses would always serve, if one transcribed them? he made answer, no, and so went on: "when an author has composed any, he carries them to the mint, where the sworn poets of the kingdom sit in court. there these versifying officers essay the pieces; and if they be judged sterling, they are rated not according to their coyn; that's to say, that a _sonnet_ is not always as good as a _sonnet_; but according to the intrinsick value of the piece; so that if any one starve, he must be a blockhead: for men of wit make always good chear." with extasie i was admiring the judicious policy of that country, when he proceeded in this manner: "there are others who keep publick-house after a far different manner: when one is about to be gone, they demand, proportionably to the charges, an acquittance for the other world; and when that is given them, they write down in a great register, which they call _doomsday's book_, much after this manner: _item_, the value of so many verses, delivered such a day, to such a person, which he is to pay upon the receipt of this acquittance, out of his readiest cash: and when they find themselves in danger of death, they cause these registers to be chopt in pieces, and swallow them down; because they believe, that if they were not thus digested, they would be good for nothing." this conversation was no hinderance to our journey; for my four-legged porter jogged on under me, and i rid stradling on his back. i shall not be particular in relating to you all the adventures that happened to us on our way, till we arrived at length at the town where the king holds his residence. [1] officious = kindly, ready to serve, doing good offices. _cf_. milton, _paradise lost_: "yet, not to earth are those bright luminaries officious; but to thee, earth's habitant." [2] cf. _the man in the moone_, of francis godwin: "their language is very difficult, since it hath no affinity with any other i ever heard, and consists not so much of words and letters, as tunes and strange sounds which no letters can express; for there are few words but signify several things, and are distinguished only by their sounds, which are sung as it were in uttering; yea many words consist of tunes only, without words." [3] origin. _cf_. pp. 137, 170, 174*; and _cf_. shakspere, _henry iv._, part ii.: "it hath its original from much grief." (*p. 137 starts with: "...last meeting, had said, that..." p. 170: "... thus he concluded, and..." p. 174: "chapter iv") [4] "... on ne s'attendait guère de voir [charon] en cette affaire!" in fact, our translator has made an amusing mistake, for which the printer of the 1661 edition is perhaps partly responsible; in that edition we read] "(caron ne se sert pas d'autres chandelles)," which should of course be, as in the other editions, "caron ...;" "for they use no other candles." chapter ix. _of the little_ spaniard _whom he met there, and of his quaint wit; of_ vacuum, _specific weights, and sundry other philosophical matters_. i was no sooner come, but they carryed me to the palace, where the grandees received me with more moderation, than the people had done as i passed the streets: but both great and small concluded, that without doubt i was the female of the queen's little animal. my guide was my interpreter; and yet he himself understood not the riddle, and knew not what to make of that little animal of the queen's; but we were soon satisfied as to that; for the king having some time considered me, ordered it to be brought, and about half an hour after i saw a company of apes, wearing ruffs and breeches, come in, and amongst them a little man almost of my own built, for he went on two legs; so soon as he perceived me, he accosted me with a _criado de vuestra merced_[1] i answered his greeting much in the same terms. but alas! no sooner had they seen us talk together, but they believed their conjecture to be true; and so, indeed, it seemed; for he of all the by-standers, that past the most favourable judgment upon us, protested that our conversation was a chattering we kept for joy at our meeting again. that little man told me, that he was an _european_, a native of old _castille_:[2] that he had found a means by the help of birds[3] to mount up to the world of the moon, where then we were: that falling into the queen's hands, she had taken him for a monkey, because fate would have it so, that in that country they cloath apes in a _spanish_ dress; and that upon his arrival, being found in that habit, she had made no doubt but he was of the same kind. "it could not otherwise be," replied i, "but having tried all fashions of apparel upon them, none were found so ridiculous, and by consequence more becoming a kind of animals which are only entertained for pleasure and diversion." "that shews you little understand the dignity of our nation," answered he, "for whom the universe breeds men only to be our slaves, and nature produces nothing but objects of mirth and laughter." he then intreated me to tell him, how i durst be so bold as to scale the moon with the machine i told him of? i answered, that it was because he had carried away the birds, which i intended to have made use of. he smiled at this raillery; and about a quarter of an hour after, the king commanded the keeper of the monkeys to carry us back. the king's pleasure was punctually obeyed; at which i was very glad, for the satisfaction i had, of having a mate to converse with during the solitude of my brutification. [illustration: the "little spaniard's" trip to the moon--from an engraving in "the strange voyage of domingo gonzales to the world in the moon."] one day my male (for i was taken for the female) told me, that the true reason which had obliged him to travel all over the earth, and at length to abandon it for the moon, was that he could not find so much as one country where even imagination was at liberty. "look ye," said he, "how the wittiest thing you can say, unless you wear a cornered cap, if it thwart the principles of the doctors of the robe, you are an ideot, a fool, and something worse perhaps. i was about to have been put into the inquisition at home, for maintaining to the pedants teeth, that there was a _vacuum_, and that i knew no one matter in the world more ponderous than another." i asked him, what probable arguments he had, to confirm so new an opinion? "to evince that," answered he, "you must suppose that there is but one element; for though we see water, earth, air and fire distinct, yet are they never found to be so perfectly pure but that there still remains some mixture. for example, when you behold fire, it is not fire but air much extended; the air is but water much dilated; water is but liquified earth, and the earth it self but condensed water; and thus if you weigh matter seriously, you'll find it is but one, which like an excellent comedian here below acts all parts, in all sorts of dresses: otherwise we must admit as many elements as there are kinds of bodies: and if you ask me why fire burns, and water cools, since it is but one and the same matter, i answer, that that matter acts by sympathy, according to the disposition it is in at the time when it acts. fire, which is nothing but earth also, more dilated than is fit for the constitution of air, strives to change into it self, by sympathy, what ever it meets with: thus the heat of coals, being the most subtile fire, and most proper to penetrate a body, at first slides through the pores of our skin; and because it is a new matter that fills us, it makes us exhale in sweat; that sweat dilated by the fire is converted to a steam, and becomes air; that air being farther ratified by the heat of the _antiperistasis_, or of the neighbouring stars, is called fire, and the earth abandoned by the cold and humidity which were ligaments to the whole, falls to the ground: water, on the other hand, though it no ways differ from the matter of fire, but in that it is closer, burns us not; because that being dense by sympathy, it closes up the bodies it meets with, and the cold we feel is no more but the effect of our flesh contracting it self, because of the vicinity of earth or water, which constrains it to a resemblance. hence it is, that those who are troubled with a dropsie convert all their nourishment into water; and the cholerick convert all the blood that is formed in their liver into choler. "it being then supposed, that there is but one element; it is most certain, that all bodies, according to their several qualities, incline equally towards the center of the earth. but you'll ask me, why then does iron, metal, earth and wood, descend more swiftly to the center than a sponge, if it be not that it is full of air which naturally tends upwards? that is not at all the reason, and thus i make it out: though a rock fall with greater rapidity than a feather, both of them have the same inclination for the journey; but a cannon bullet, for instance, were the earth pierced through, would precipitate with greater haste to the center thereof than a bladder full of wind; and the reason is, because that mass of metal is a great deal of earth contracted into a little space, and that wind a very little earth in a large space: for all the parts of matter, being so closely joined together in the iron, encrease their force by their union; because being thus compacted, they are many that fight against a few, seeing a parcel of air equal to the bullet in bigness is not equal in quantity. "not to insist on a long deduction of arguments to prove this, tell me in good earnest, how a pike, a sword or a dagger wounds us? if it be not because the steel, being a matter wherein the parts are more continuous and more closely knit together than your flesh is, whose pores and softness shew that it contains but very little matter within a great extent of place; and that the point of the steel that pricks us, being almost an innumerable number of particles of matter against a very little flesh, it forces it to yield to the stronger, in the same manner as a squadron in close order will easily break through a more open battalion; for why does a bit of red hot iron burn more than a log of wood all on fire? unless it be, that in the iron there is more fire in a small space, seeing it adheres to all the parts of the metal, than in the wood which being very spongy by consequence contains a great deal of _vacuity_; and that _vacuity_, being but a privation of being, cannot receive the form of fire. but, you'll object, you suppose a _vacuum_, as if you had proved it, and that's begging of the question: well then i'll prove it, and though that difficulty be the sister of the _gordian knot_, yet my arms are strong enough to become its _alexander_. "let that vulgar beast, then, who does not think it self a man, had it not been told so, answer me if it can: suppose now there be but one matter, as i think i have sufficiently proved; whence comes it, that according to its appetite it enlarges or contracts its self; whence is it, that a piece of earth by being condensed becomes a stone? is it that the parts of that stone are placed one with another, in such a manner that wherever that grain of sand is settled, even there, or in the same point, another grain of sand is lodged? that cannot be, no not according to their own principles, seeing there is no penetration of bodies: but that matter must have crowded together, and if you will, abridged it self, so that it hath filled some place which was empty before. to say that it is incomprehensible, that there should be a nothing in the world, that we are in part made up of nothing: why not, pray? is not the whole world wrapt up in nothing? since you yield me this point, then confess ingeniously, that it's as rational that the world should have a nothing within it, as nothing about it. "i well perceive you'll put the question to me, why water compressed in a vessel by the frost should break it, if it be not to hinder a vacuity? but i answer, that that only happens, because the air overhead, which as well as earth and water tends to the center, meeting with an empty tun by the way, takes tip his lodging there: if it find the pores of that vessel, that's to say, the ways that lead to that void place, too narrow, too long, and too crooked, with impatience it breaks through and arrives at its tun. "but not to trifle away time, in answering all their objections, i dare be bold to say, that if there were no _vacuity_, there could be no motion; or else a penetration of bodies must be admitted; for it would be a little too ridiculous to think, that when a gnat pushes back a parcel of air with its wings, that parcel drives another before it, that other another still; and that so the stirring of the little toe of a flea should raise a bunch upon the back of the universe. when they are at a stand, they have recourse to rarefaction: but in good earnest, how can it be when a body is ratified, that one particle of the mass does recede from another particle, without leaving an empty space betwixt them; must not the two bodies, which are just separated, have been at the same time in the same place of this; and that so they must have all three penetrated each other? i expect you'll ask me, why through a reed, a syringe or a pump, water is forced to ascend contrary to its inclination? to which i answer, that that's by violence, and that it is not the fear of a _vacuity_ that turns it out of the right way; but that being linked to the air by an imperceptible chain, it rises when the air, to which it is joined, is rarified. "that's no such knotty difficulty, when one knows the perfect circle and the delicate concatenation of the elements: for if you attentively consider the slime which joines the earth and water together in marriage, you'll find that it is neither earth nor water; but the mediator betwixt these two enemies. in the same manner, the water and air reciprocally send a mist, that dives into the humours of both, to negotiate a peace betwixt them; and the air is reconciled to the fire, by means of an interposing exhalation which unites them." i believe he would have proceeded in his discourse, had they not brought us our victuals; and seeing we were a hungry, i stopt my ears to his discourse, and opened my stomack to the food they gave us. i remember another time, when we were upon our philosophy, for neither of us took pleasure to discourse of mean things: "i am vexed," said he, "to see a wit of your stamp infected with the errors of the vulgar. you must know then, in spight of the pedantry of _aristotle_ with which your schools in _france_ still ring, that every thing is in every thing; that's to say, for instance, that in the water there is fire, in the fire water, in the air earth, and in the earth air: though that opinion makes scholars open their eyes as big as sawcers, yet it is easier to prove it, than perswade it. for i ask them, in the first place, if water does not breed filth: if they deny it, let them dig a pit, fill it with meer element,[4] and to prevent all blind objections let them if they please strain it through a strainer, and i'll oblige my self, in case they find no filth therein within a certain time, to drink up all the water they have poured into it: but if they find filth, as i make no doubt on't; it is a convincing argument that there is both salt and fire there. consequentially now, to find water in fire; i take it to be no difficult task. for let them chuse fire, even that which is most abstracted from matter, as comets are, there is a great deal in them still; seeing if that unctuous humour, whereof they are engendered, being reduced to a sulphur by the heat of the antiperistasis which kindles them, did not find a curb of its violence in the humid cold that qualifies and resists it, it would spend it self in a trice like lightning. now that there is air in the earth, they will not deny it; or otherwise they have never heard of the terrible earth-quakes, that have so often shaken the mountains of _sicily_: besides, the earth is full of pores, even to the least grains of sand that com[pose] it. nevertheless no man hath as yet said, that these hollows were filled with _vacuity_: it will not be taken amiss then, i hope, if the air takes up its quarters there. it remains to be proved, that there is earth in the air; but i think it scarcely worth my pains, seeing you are convinced of it, as often as you see such numberless legions of atomes fall upon your heads, as even stiffle arithmetick. "but let us pass from simple to compound bodies, they'll furnish me with much more frequent subjects; and to demonstrate that all things are in all things, not that they change into one another, as your _peripateticks_ juggle:[5] for i will maintain to their teeth, that the principles mingle, separate, and mingle again in such a manner, that that hath been made water by the wise creator of the world, will always be water; i shall suppose no maxime, as they do, but what i prove. "and therefore take a billet, or any other combustible stuff, and set fire to it, they'll say when it is in a flame, that what was wood is now become fire; but i maintain the contrary, and that there is no more fire in it, when it is all in flame, than before it was kindled; but that which before was hid in the billet, and by the humidity and cold hindered from acting; being now assisted by the stranger, hath rallied its forces against the phlegm that choaked it, and commanding the field of battle, that was possessed by its enemy, triumphs over his jaylor and appears without fetters. don't you see how the water flees out at the two ends of the billet, hot and smoaking from the fight it was engaged in. that flame which you see rise on high is the purer fire, unpestered from the matter, and by consequence the readiest to return home to it self: nevertheless it unites it self by tapering into a piramide till it rise to a certain height, that it may pierce through the thick humidity of the air which resists it; but as mounting it disengaged it self by little and little from the violent company of its landlords; so it diffuses it self, because then it meets with nothing that thwarts its passage, which negligence, though, is many times the cause of a second captivity: for marching stragglingly, it wanders sometimes into a cloud, and if it meet there with a party of its own sufficient to make head against a vapour, they engage, grumble, thunder and roar, and the death of innocents is many times the effect of the animated rage of those inanimated things. if, when it finds it self pestered among those crudities of the middle region, it is not strong enough to make a defence, it yields to its enemy upon discretion; which by its weight constrains it to fall again to the earth: and this wretch,[6] inclosed in a drop of rain, may per haps fall at the foot of an oak, whose animal fire will invite the poor straggler to take a lodging with him; and thus you have it in the same condition again as it was a few days before. "but let us trace the fortune of the other elements that composed that billet. the air retreats to its own quarters also, though blended with vapours; because the fire all in a rage drove them briskly out _pell-mell_ together. now you have it serving the winds for a tennis-ball, furnishing breath to animals, filling up the vacuities that nature hath left; and, it may be also, wrapt up in a drop of dew, suckling the thirsty leaves of that tree, whither our fire retreated: the water driven from its throne by the flame, being by the heat elevated to the nursery of the meteors, will distil again in rain upon our oak, as soon as upon another; and the earth being turned to ashes, and then cured of its sterility, either by the nourishing heat of a dunghill on which it hath been thrown, or by the vegetative salt of some neighbouring plants, or by the teeming waters of some rivers, may happen also to be near this oak, which by the heat of its germ will attract it, and convert it into a part of its bulk. "in this manner, these four elements undergo the same destiny, and return to the same state, which they quitted but a few days before: so that it may be said, that all that's necessary for the composition of a tree, is in a man; and in a tree, all that's necessary for making of a man. in fine, according to this way, all things will be found in all things; but we want a _prometheus_, to pluck us out of the bosom of nature, and render us sensible, which i am willing to call the _first matter_"[7] these were the things, i think, with which we past the time; for that little _spaniard_ had a quaint wit. our conversation, however, was only in the night time; because from six a clock in the morning until night, crowds of the people, that came to stare at us in our lodging, would have disturbed us: for some threw us stones, others nuts, and others grass; there was no talk, but of the kings beasts; we had our victuals daily at set hours. i cannot tell, whether it was that i minded their gestures and tones more than my male did: but i learnt sooner than he to understand their language, and to smatter a little of it, which made us to be lookt upon in another guess manner than formerly; and the news thereupon flew presently all over the kingdom, that two wild men had been found, who were less than other men, by reason of the bad food we had had in the desarts; and who through a defect of their parents seed, had not the fore legs strong enough to support their bodies. [1] "your excellency's servant." [2] domingo gonzales, the hero of bishop francis godwin's _the man in the moone_ (see translator to reader, note 2), who says of himself: "i must acknowledge my stature is so little, as i think no man living is less." [3] the engraving opposite, showing how he was carried up by his birds, is copied from an old edition of _the man in the moone_. the other winged figures about him are supposed to represent demons who attacked him when just above "the middle region." [4] with the _pure_ element (lat., _merus_); _i.e._, water alone unmixed with impurities or other elements. [5] fr. gazouillent, _babble_. [6] unfortunate creature ("ce malheureux"). [7] the translator has here mistaken a dative for an accusative. the sense of the french is: "but we need a prometheus to pluck out for us, from the bosom of nature, and make tangible to us, that which i will call _first matter_." chapter x. _where the author comes in doubt, whether he be a_ man, _an_ ape, _or an_ estridge;[1] _and of the opinion of the lunar philosophers concerning_ aristotle. this belief would have taken rooting by being spread, had it not been for the learned men of the country, who opposed it, saying, that it was horrid impiety to believe not only beasts, but monsters, to be of their kind. it would be far more probable, (added the calmer sort) that our domestick beasts should participate of the privilege of humanity and by consequence of immortality, as being bred in our country, than a monstrous beast that talks of being born i know not where, in the moon; and then observe the difference betwixt us and them. we walk upon four feet, because god would not trust so precious a thing upon weaker supporters, and he was afraid least marching otherwise some mischance might befall man; and therefore he took the pains to rest him upon four pillars, that he might not fall, but disdaining to have a hand in the fabrick of these two brutes, he left them to the caprice of nature, who not concerning her self with the loss of so small a matter, supported them only by two feet. "birds themselves," said they, "have not had so hard measure as they; for they have got feathers at least, to supply the weakness of their, legs, and to cast themselves in the air when we pursue them; whereas nature, depriving these monsters of two legs, hath disabled them from scaping our justice. "besides, consider a little how they have the head raised toward heaven; it is because god would punish them with scarcity of all things, that he hath so placed them; for that supplicant posture shews that they complain to heaven of him that created them, and that they beg permission to make their best of our leavings. but we, on the contrary, have the head bending downwards, to behold the blessings whereof we are the masters, and as if there were nothing in heaven that our happy condition needed envy." i heard such discourses, or the like, daily at my lodge; and at length they so curbed the minds of the people as to that point, that it was decreed, that at best i should only pass for a parrot without feathers; for they confirmed those who were already perswaded, in that i had but two legs no more than a bird, which was the cause that i was put into a cage by express orders from the privy council. there the queen's bird-keeper taking the pains daily to teach me to whistle, as they do stares[2] or singing-birds here, i was really happy in that i wanted not food; in the mean while, with the sonnets[3] the spectators stunned me [with], i learnt to speak as they did; so that when i was got to be so much master of the idiom as to express most of my thoughts, i told them the finest of my conceits. the quaintness of my sayings was already the entertainment of all societies, and my wit was so much esteemed that the council was obliged to publish an edict, forbidding all people to believe that i was endowed with reason; with express commands to all persons, of what quality or condition soever, not to imagine but that whatever i did, though never so wittily, proceeded only from instinct. nevertheless, the decision of what i was, divided the town into two factions. the party that stood for me encreased daily; and at length in spight of the _anathema_, whereby they endeavoured to scare the multitude: they who held for me, demanded a convention of the states, for determining that controversie. it was long before they could agree in the choice of those who should have a vote; but the arbitrators pacified the heat, by making the number of both parties equal, who ordered that i should be brought unto the assembly, as i was: but i was treated there with all imaginable severity. my examiners, amongst other things, put questions of philosophy to me; i ingenuously told them all that my tutor had heretofore taught me, but they easily refuted me by more convincing arguments: so that having nothing to answer for my self, my last refuge was to principles of _aristotle_, which stood me in as little stead, as his sophisms did; for in two words, they let me see the falsity of them. "that same aristotle," said they, "whose learning you brag so much of, did without doubt accommodate principles to his philosophy;[4] instead of accommodating his philosophy to principles; and besides he ought to have proved them at least to be more rational than those of the other sects you mentioned to us: wherefore the good man will not take it ill, we hope, if we bid him god b'w'." in fine, when they perceived that i did nothing but bawl, that they were not more knowing than aristotle, and that i was forbid to dispute against those who denied his principles: they all unanimously concluded, that i was not a man, but perhaps a kind of _estridge_,[5] seeing i carried my head upright like them, that i walked on two legs, and that, in short, but for a little down, i was every way like one of them; so that the bird-keeper was ordered to have me back to my cage. i spent my time pretty pleasantly there, for because i had correctly learned their language, the whole court took pleasure to make me prattle. the queen's maids, among the rest, slipt always some boon into my basket, and the gentilest of them all, having conceived some kindness for me, was so transported with joy, when in private i entertained her with the manners and divertisements of the people of our world, and especially our bells, and other instruments of musick, that she protested to me, with tears in her eyes, that if ever i found my self in a condition to fly back again to our world, she would follow me with all her heart. [1] ostrich. [2] starlings. [3] fr., "sornettes," _nonsense_. [4] wrest the facts to fit his theories. [5] ostrich. chapter xi. _of the manner of making war in the moon; and of how the moon is not the moon, nor the earth the earth._ one morning early, having started out of my sleep, i found her taboring[1] upon the grates of my cage: "take good heart," said she to me, "yesterday in council a war was resolved upon, against the king [illustration: bar 1][2] i hope that during the hurry of preparations, whilst our monarch and his subjects are absent, i may find an occasion to make your escape." "how, a war," said i interrupting her, "have the princes of this world, then, any quarrels amongst themselves, as those of ours have? good now, let me know their way of fighting." "when the arbitrators," replied she, "who are freely chosen by the two parties, have appointed the time for raising forces for their march, the number of combatants, the day and place of battle, and all with so great equality, that there is not one man more in one army, than in the other: all the maimed soldiers on the one side, are lifted in one company; and when they come to engage, the _mareshalls de camp_[3] take care to expose them to the maimed of the other side: the giants are matched with colosses, the fencers with those that can handle their weapons, the valiant with the stout, the weak with the infirm, the sick with the indisposed, the sturdy with the strong; and if any undertake to strike at another than the enemy he is matched with, unless he can make it out that it was by mistake, he is condemned for a coward. when the battle is over, they take an account of the wounded, the dead and the prisoners, for runaways they have none; and if the loss be equal on both sides, they draw cuts, who shall be proclaimed victorious. "but though a kingdom hath defeated the enemy in open war, yet there is hardly any thing got by it; for there are other smaller armies of learned and witty men, on whose disputations the triumph or servitude of states wholly depends. "one learned man grapples with another, one wit with another, and one judicious man with another judicious man: now the triumph which a state gains in this manner is reckoned as good as three victories by open force. after the proclamation of victory, the assembly is broken up, and the victorious people either chuse the enemies king to be theirs, or confirm their own." i could not forbear to laugh at this scrupulous way of giving battle; and for an example of much stronger politicks, i alledged the customs of our _europe_, where the monarch would be sure not to let slip any favourable occasion of gaining the day; but mind what she said as to that. "tell me, pray, if your princes use not a pretext of right, when they levy arms:" "no doubt," answered i, "and of the justice of their cause too." "why then," replied she, "do they not chuse impartial and unsuspected arbitrators to compose their differences? and if it be found, that the one has as much right as the other, let things continue as they were; or let them play a game at _picket_, for the town or province that's in dispute." "but why all these circumstances," replied i, "in your way of fighting? is it not enough, that both armies are equal in the number of men?" "your judgment is weak," answered she. "would you think in conscience, that if you had the better of your enemy, hand to hand, in an open field, you had fairly overcome him, if you had had on a coat of mail, and he none; if he had had but a dagger, and you a tuck[4]; and in a word, if he had had but one arm, and you both yours? nevertheless, what equality soever you may recommend to your gladiators, they never fight on even terms; for the one will be a tall man, and the other short; the one skilful at his weapon, and the other a man that never handled a sword; the one will be strong, and the other weak: and though these disproportions were not, but that the one were as skillful and strong as the other; yet still they might not be rightly matched; for one, perhaps, may have more courage than the other, who being rash and hot-headed, inconcerned in danger, as not foreseeing it; of a bilious temper, a more contracted heart, with all the qualities that constitute courage, (as if that, as well as a sword, were not a weapon which his adversary hath not:) he makes nothing of falling desperately upon, terrifying, and killing this poor man, who foresees the danger; who has his heat choked in phlegme, and a heart too wide to close in the spirits in such a posture as is necessary for thawing that ice which is called cowardise. and now you praise that man, for having killed his enemy at odds, and praising him for his boldness you praise him for a sin against nature; seeing such boldness tends to its destruction. and this puts me in mind to tell ye, that some years ago application was made to the council of war for a more circumspect and conscientious rule to be made, as to the way of fighting. the philosopher who gave the advice, if i mistake it not, spake in this manner. "you imagine, gentlemen, that you have very equally balanced the advantages of two enemies, when you have chosen both tall men, both skillful, and both couragious: but that's not enough, seeing after all the conquerour must have the better on't either through his skill, strength, or good fortune. if it be by skill, without doubt he hath taken his adversary on the blind side, which he did not expect; or struck him sooner than was likely, or faining to make his pass on one side, he hath attacked him on the other: nevertheless all this is cunning, cheating, and treachery, and none of these make a brave man: if he hath triumphed by force, would you judge his enemy overcome, because he hath been over-powered? no; doubtless, no more than you'll say that a man hath lost the victory, when, overwhelm'd by a mountain, it was not in his power to gain it: even so, the other was not overcome, because he was not in a suitable disposition, at that nick of time, to resist the violences of his adversary. if chance hath given him the better of his enemy, fortune ought then to be crowned, since he hath contributed nothing to it; and, in fine, the vanquished is no more to be blamed, than he who at dice having thrown seventeen, is beat by another that throws three sixes.' "they confessed he was in the right; but that it was impossible, according to humane appearances, to remedy it; and that it was better to submit to a small inconvenience, than to open a door to a hundred of greater importance." she entertained me no longer at that time, because she was afraid to be found alone with me so early; not that impudicity is a crime in that country: on the contrary, except malefactors convicted, all men have power over all women; and in the same manner, a woman may bring her action against a man for refusing her: but she durst not keep me company publickly, because the members of council, at their last meeting, had said, that it was chiefly the women who gave it out that i was a man; which was the reason that for a long time i neither saw her, nor any other of her sex. [sidenote: moon not the moon] in the mean time, some must needs have revived the disputes about the definition of my being; for whilst i was thinking of nothing else but of dying in my cage, i was once more brought out to have another audience. i was then questioned, in presence of a great many courtiers, upon some points of natural philosophy; and, as i take it, my answers gave some kind of satisfaction; for the president declared to me at large his thoughts concerning the structure of the world. they seemed to me very ingenious; and had he not traced it to its original,[5] which he maintained to be eternal, i should have thought his philosophy[6] more rational than our own: but as soon as i heard him maintain a foppery[6b] so contrary to our faith. i broke with him; at which he did but laugh; and that obliged me to tell him, that since they were thereabouts with it, i began again to think that their world was but a moon. but then all cried, "don't you see here earth, rivers, seas? what's all that then?" "no matter," said i, "aristotle assures us it is but a moon; and if you had said the contrary in the schools, where i have been bred, you would have been hissed at." at this they all burst out in laughter; you need not ask, if it was their ignorance that made them do so; for in the mean time i was carried back to my cage. but some more passionate doctors, being informed that i had the boldness to affirm, that the moon, from whence i came, was a world; and that their world was no more but a moon, thought it might give them a very just pretext to have me condemned to the water, for that's their way of rooting out hereticks. for that end, they went in a body, and complained to the king, who promised them justice; and order'd me once more to be brought to the bar. now was i the third time un-caged; and then the most ancient spoke, and pleaded against me. i do not well remember his speech; because i was too much frighted to receive the tones of his voice without disorder; and because also in declaiming, he made use of an instrument which stunn'd me with its noise: it was a speaking-trumpet, which he had chosen on purpose that by its martial sound he might rouse them to my death; and by that emotion of their spirits, hinder reason from performing its office: as it happens in our armies, where the noise of drums and trumpets hinders the souldiers from minding the importance of their lives. when he had done, i rose up to defend my cause; but i was excused from it, by an accident that will surprize you. just as i had opened my mouth, a man, who with much ado had pressed through the crowd, fell at the king's feet, and a long while rouled himself upon his back in his presence. this practice did not at all surprize me, because i knew it to be the posture they put themselves into, when they have a mind to be heard in publick: i only stopt my own harangue, and gave ear to his. "just judges," said he, "listen to me; you cannot condemn that man, that monkey or parrot, for saying, that the moon from whence he comes is a world; for if he be a man, though he were not come from the moon, since all men are free, is not he free also to imagine what he pleases? how can you constrain him not to have visions, as well as you? you may very well force him to say, that the moon is not a world, but he will not believe it for all that; for to believe a thing, some possibilities enclining more to the yea than to the nay, must offer to ones imagination: and unless you furnish him that probability, or his own mind hit upon it, he may very well tell you that he believes, but still remain an infidel.[8] [sidenote: earth not the earth] "i am now to prove, that he ought not to be condemned if you lift him in the catalogue of beasts. "for suppose him to be an animal without reason, would it be rational in you to condemn him for offending against it? he hath said, that the moon is a world. now beasts act only by the instinct of nature: it is nature then that says so, and not he: to think that wise nature, who hath made the world and the moon, knows not her self what it is; and that ye who have no more knowledge but what ye derive from her, should more certainly know it, would be very ridiculous. but if passion should make you renounce your principles, and you should suppose that nature does not guide beasts; blush, at least, to think on't, that the caprices of a beast should so discompose you. "really, gentlemen, should you meet with a man come to the years of discretion, who made it his business to inspect the government of _pismires_, giving a blow to one that had overthrown its companion, imprisoning another that had robb'd its neighbour of a grain of corn, and inditing a third for leaving its eggs; would you not think him a mad man, to be employed in things so far below him, and to pretend to give laws to animals, that never had reason? how will you then, most venerable assembly, justifie your selves for being so concerned at the caprices of that little animal? just judges, i have no more to say." when he had made an end, all the hall rung again with a kind of musical applause; and after all the opinions had been canvased, during the space of a large quarter of an hour, the king gave sentence: that for the future, i should be reputed to be a man, accordingly set at liberty, and that the punishment of being drowned, should be converted into a publick disgrace (the most honourable way of satisfying the law in that country) whereby i should be obliged to retract openly what i had maintained in saying, that the moon was a world, because of the scandal that the novelty of that opinion might give to weak brethren. this sentence being pronounced, i was taken away out of the palace, richly cloathed; but in derision, carried in a magnificent chariot, as on a tribunal, which four princes in harness drew; and in all the publick places of the town, i was forced to make this declaration: "good people, i declare to you, that this moon here is not a moon, but a world; and that that world below is not a world, but a moon: this the council thinks fit you should believe." [1] drumming, striking; _cf_. nahum ii. 7: "and her maids shall lead her as with the voice of doves, tabouring upon their breasts." [2] cyrano writes all proper names by musical notation, in imitation of the language of the moon as he has described it. [3] possibly "field officers" here; in exact ranking, the maréchal de camp stands between colonel and lieutenant-général, and corresponds to brigadier-general. [4] fencing sword. _cf_. shakspere, _hamlet_: "if he by chance escape your venomed tuck." [5] _cf_. p. 95, n. 1. (see note 3 chap. viii) [6] folly, foolishness, ridiculous belief. _cf_. shakspere. _merry wives of windsor_: "... drove the grossness of the _foppery_ into a received belief." [7] _cf_. the saying attributed to galileo immediately after his public recantation (june 22, 1633): "e pur si muove"--"yet it does move." chapter xii. _of a philosophical entertainment._ after i had proclaimed this, in the five great places of the town, my advocate came and reached me his hand to help me down. i was in great amaze, when after i had eyed him i found him to be my spirit; we were an hour in embracing one another: "come lodge with me," said he, "for if you return to court, after a publick disgrace, you will not be well lookt upon: nay more, i must tell you, that you would have been still amongst the apes yonder, as well as the _spaniard_ your companion, if i had not in all companies published the vigour and force of your wit, and gained from your enemies the protection of the great men in your favours." i ceased not to thank him all the way, till we came to his lodgings; there he entertained me till suppertime with all the engines he had set a work to prevail with my enemies, notwithstanding the most specious pretexts they had used for riding the mobile,[1] to desist from so unjust a prosecution. but as they came to acquaint us that supper was upon the table, he told me that to bear me company that evening he had invited two professors of the university of the town to sup with him: "i'll make them," said he, "fall upon the philosophy which they teach in this world, and by that means you shall see my landlord's son: he's as witty a youth as ever i met with; he would prove another _socrates_, if he could use his parts aright, and not bury in vice the graces wherewith god continually visits him, by affecting a libertinism,[2] as he does, out of a chimerical ostentation and affectation of the name of a wit. i have taken lodgings here, that i may lay hold on all opportunities of instructing him:" he said no more, that he might give me the liberty to speak, if i had a mind to it; and then made a sign, that they should strip me of my disgraceful ornaments, in which i still glistered. the two professors, whom we expected, entered just as i was undrest, and we went to sit down to table, where the cloth was laid, and where we found the youth he had mentioned to me, fallen to already. they made him a low reverence, and treated him with as much respect as a slave does his lord. i asked my spirit the reason of that, who made me answer, that it was because of his age; seeing in that world, the aged rendered all kind of respect and difference[3] to the young; and which is far more, that the parents obeyed their children, so soon as by the judgment of the senate of philosophers they had attained to the years of discretion.[4] [sidenote: why parents obey children] "you are amazed," continued he, "at a custom so contrary to that of your country; but it is not all repugnant to reason: for say, in your conscience, when a brisk young man is at his prime in imagining, judging, and acting, is not he fitter to govern a family than a decrepit piece of threescore years, dull and doting, whose imagination is frozen under the snow of sixty winters, who follows no other guide but what you call the experience of happy successes; which yet are no more but the bare effects of chance, against all the rules and oeconomy of humane prudence? and as for judgment, he hath but little of that neither, though the people of your world make it the portion of old age: but to undeceive them, they must know, that that which is called prudence in an old man is no more but a panick apprehension, and a mad fear of acting any thing where there is danger: so that when he does not run a risk, wherein a young man hath lost himself; it is not that he foresaw the catastrophe, but because he had not fire enough to kindle those noble flashes, which make us dare: whereas the boldness of that young man was as a pledge of the good success of his design; because the same ardour that speeds and facilitates the execution, thrust him upon the undertaking. "as for execution, i should wrong your judgment if i endeavoured to convince it by proofs: you know that youth alone is proper for action; and were you not fully perswaded of this, tell me, pray, when you respect a man of courage, is it not because he can revenge you on your enemies or oppressors? and does any thing, but meer habit, make you consider[5] him, when a battalion of seventy _januarys_ hath frozen his blood and chilled all the noble heats that youth is warmed with? when you yield to the stronger, is it not that he should be obliged to you for a victory which you cannot dispute him? why then should you submit to him, when laziness hath softened his muscles, weakened his arteries, evaporated his spirits, and suckt the marrow out of his bones? if you adore a woman, is it not because of her beauty? why should you then continue your cringes, when old age hath made her a ghost, which only represents a hideous picture of death? in short, when you loved a witty man, it was because by the quickness of his apprehension he unravelled an intricate affair, seasoned the choicest companies with his quaint sayings, and sounded the depth of sciences with a single thought; and do you still honour him, when his worn organs disappoint his weak noddle, when he is become dull and uneasy in company, and when he looks like an aged fairy[6] rather than a rational man? "conclude then from thence, son, that it is fitter young men should govern families, than old; and the rather, that according to your own principles, _hercules, achilles, epaminondas, alexander_, and _cæsar_, of whom most part died under fourty years of age, could have merited no honours, as being too young in your account, though their youth was the only cause of their famous actions; which a more advanced age would have rendered ineffectual, as wanting that heat and promptitude that rendered them so highly successful. but you'll tell me, that all the laws of your world do carefully enjoin the respect that is due to old men: that's true; but it &amp; as true also, that all who made laws have been old men, who feared that young men might justly have dispossessed them of the authority they had usurped. "you owe nothing to your mortal architector, but your body only; your soul comes from heaven, and chance might have made your father your son, as now you are his. nay, are you sure he hath not hindered you from inheriting a crown? your spirit left heaven, perhaps with a design to animate the king of the _romans_, in the womb of the empress; it casually encountered the _embryo_ of you by the way, and it may be to shorten its journey, went and lodged there: no, no, god would never have razed your name out of the list of mankind, though your father had died a child. but who knows, whether you might not have been at this day the work of some valiant captain, that would have associated you to his glory, as well as to his estate. so that, perhaps, you are no more indebted to your father--for the life he hath given you, than you would be to a pirate who had put you in chains, because he feeds you: nay, grant he had begot you a prince, or king; a present loses its merit, when it is made without the option of him who receives it. _cæsar_ was killed, and so was _cassius_ too: in the mean time _cassius_ was obliged to the slave, from whom he begg'd his death, but so was not _cæsar_ to his murderers, who forced it upon him. did your father consult your will and pleasure, when he embraced your mother? did he ask you, if you thought fit to see that age, or to wait for another; if you would be satisfied to be the son of a sot, or if you had the ambition to spring from a brave man? alas, you whom alone the business concerned, were the only person not consulted in the case. may be then, had you been shut up any where else, than in the womb of nature's ideas, and had your birth been in your own opinion, you would have said to the _parca_, my dear lady, take another spindle in your hand: i have lain very long in the bed of nothing, and i had rather continue an hundred years still without a being, than to be to day, that i may repent of it to morrow: however, be you must, it was to no purpose for you to whimper and squall to be taken back again to the long and darksome house they drew you out of, they made as if they believed you cryed for the teat. "these are the reasons, at least some of them, my son, why parents bear so much respect to their children: i know very well that i have inclined to the childrens side more than in justice i ought; and that in favour of them, i have spoken a little against my conscience. but since i was willing to repress the pride of some parents, who insult over the weakness of their little ones; i have been forced to do as they do who to make a crooked tree streight bend it to the contrary side, that betwixt two conversions it may become even: thus i have made fathers restore to their children what they have taken from them, by taking from them a great deal that belonged to them; that so another time they may be content with their own. i know very well also that by this apology i have offended all old men: but let them remember, that they were children before they were fathers, and young before they were old; and that i must needs have spoken a great deal to their advantage, seeing they were not found in a parsley-bed:[7] but, in fine, fall back, fall edge, though my enemies draw up against my friends, it will go well enough still with me; for i have obliged all men, and only disobliged but one half." with that he held his tongue, and our landlord's son spoke in this manner: "give me leave," said he to him, "since by your care i am informed of the original, history, customs, and philosophy, of the world of this little man; to add something to what you have said; and to prove that children are not obliged to parents for their generation, because their parents were obliged in conscience to procreate them. "the strictest philosophy of their world acknowledges that it is better to dye, since to dye one must have lived, than not to have had a being. now seeing, by not giving a being to that nothing, i leave it in a state worse than death, i am more guilty in not producing, than in killing it. in the mean time, my little man, thou wouldst think thou hadst committed an unpardonable parracide, shouldst thou have cut thy sons throat: it would indeed be an enormous crime, but it is far more execrable, not to give a being to that which is capable of receiving it: for that child whom thou deprivest of life for ever, hath had the satisfaction of having enjoyed it for some time. besides, we know that it is but deprived of it, but for some ages; but these forty poor little nothings, which thou mightest have made forty good souldiers for the king, thou art so malicious as to deny them life, and lettest them corrupt in thy reins, to the danger of an appoplexy, which will stifle thee." this philosophy did not at all please me, which made me three or four times shake my head; but our preceptor held his tongue, because supper was mad to be gone. we laid our selves along, then, upon very soft quilts, covered with large carpets; and a young man that waited on us, taking the oldest of our philosophers, led him into a little parlour apart, where my spirit called to him to come back to us as soon as he had supped. this humour of eating separately, gave me the curiosity of asking the cause of it: "he'll not relish," said he, "the steam of meat, nor yet of herbs, unless they die of themselves, because he thinks they are sensible of pain." "i wonder not so much," replied i, "that he abstains from flesh, and all things that have had a sensitive life: for in our world the _pythagoreans_, and even some holy _anchorites_, have followed that rule; but not to dare, for instance, cut a cabbage, for fear of hurting it; that seems to me altogether ridiculous." "and for my part," answered my spirit, "i find a great deal of probability in his opinion." [sidenote: the soul of plants] "for tell me, is not that cabbage you speak of, a being existent in nature, as well as you? is not she the common mother of you both? yet the opinion that nature is kinder to mankind, than to cabbage-kind, tickles and makes us laugh: but seeing she is incapable of passion, she can neither love nor hate any thing; and were she susceptible of love, she would rather bestow her affection upon this cabbage, which you grant cannot offend her, than upon that man who would destroy her, if it lay in his power. "and moreover, man cannot be born innocent, being a part of the first offender: but we know very well, that the first cabbage did not offend its creator. if it be said, that we are made after the image of the supreme being, and so is not the cabbage; grant that to be true; yet by polluting our soul, wherein we resembled him, we have effaced that likeness, seeing nothing is more contrary to god than sin. if then our soul be no longer his image, we resemble him no more in our feet, hands, mouth, forehead and ears, than a cabbage in its leaves, flowers, stalk, pith, and head: do not you really think, that if this poor plant could speak, when one cuts it, it would not say, 'dear brother man, what have i done to thee that deserves death? i never grow but in gardens, and am never to be found in desart places, where i might live in security: i disdain all other company but thine; and scarcely am i sowed in thy garden, when to shew thee my goodwill, i blow, stretch out my arms to thee; offer thee my children in grain; and as a requital for my civility, thou causest my head to be chopt off.' thus would a cabbage discourse, if it could speak. "well, and because it cannot complain, may we therefore justly do it all the wrong which it cannot hinder? if i find a wretch bound hand and foot, may i lawfully kill him, because he cannot defend himself? so far from that, that his weakness would aggravate my cruelty. and though this wretched creature be poor, and destitute of all the advantages which we have, yet it deserves not death; and when of all the benefits of a being it hath only that of encrease, we ought not cruelly to snatch that away from it. to massacre a man, is not so great sin, as to cut and kill a cabbage, because one day the man will rise again, but the cabbage has no other life to hope for: by putting to death a cabbage, you annihilate it; but in killing a man, you make him only change his habitations nay, i'll go farther with you still: since god doth equally cherish all his works, and hath equally divided the benefits betwixt us and plants, it is but just we should have an equal esteem for them as for our selves. it is true we were born first, but in the family of god there is no birthright. if then the cabbage share not with us in the inheritance of immortality, without doubt that want was made up by some other advantage, that may make amends for the shortness of its being; may be by an universal intellect, or a perfect knowledge of all things in their causes; and it's for that reason, that the wise mover of all things hath not shaped for it organs like ours, which are proper only for a simple reasoning, not only weak, but many times fallacious too; but others, more ingeniously framed, stronger, and more numerous, which serve to manage its speculative exercises. you'll ask me, perhaps, when ever any cabbage imparted those lofty conceptions to us? but tell me, again, who ever discovered to us certain beings, which we allow to be above us; to whom we bear no analogy nor proportion, and whose existence it is as hard for us to comprehend, as the understanding and ways whereby a cabbage expresses its self to its like, though not to us, because our senses are too dull to penetrate so far. "_moses_, the greatest of philosophers, who drew the knowledge of nature from the fountain-head, nature her self, hinted this truth to us when he spoke of the tree of knowledge; and without doubt he intended to intimate to us under that figure, that plants, in exclusion to mankind, possess perfect philosophy. remember, then, o thou proudest of animals! that though a cabbage which thou cuttest sayeth not a word, yet it pays it at thinking; but the poor vegetable has no fit organs to howl as you do, nor yet to frisk it about, and weep: yet, it hath those that are proper to complain of the wrong you do it, and to draw a judgement from heaven upon you for the injustice. but if you still demand of me, how i come to know that cabbage and coleworts conceive such pretty thoughts? then will i ask you, how come you to know that they do not; and that some amongst them, when they shut up at night, may not compliment one another as you do, saying: good night, master _cole-curled-pate_; your most humble servant, good master _cabbage-round-head_." so far was he gone on in his discourse, when the young lad, who had led out our philosopher, led him in again; "what, supped already?" cryed my spirit to him. he answered, yes, almost: the physiognomist having permitted him to take a little more with us. our young landlord stayed not till i should ask him the meaning of that mystery; "i perceive," said he, "you wonder at this way of living; know then, that in your world, the government of health is too much neglected, and that our method is not to be despised." [sidenote: the physiognomist] "in all houses there is a physiognomist entertained by the publick,[8] who in some manner resembles your physicians, save that he only prescribes to the healthful, and judges of the different manners how we are to be treated only according to the proportion, figure, and symmetry of our members; by the features of the face, the complexion, the softness of the skin, the agility of the body, the sound of the voice, and the colour, strength, and hardness of the hair. did not you just now mind a man, of a pretty low stature, who ey'd you; he was the physiognomist of the house: assure your self, that according as he observed your constitution, he hath diversified the exhalation of your supper: mark the quilt on which you lie, how distant it is from our couches; without doubt, he judges your constitution to be far different from ours; since he feared that the odour which evaporates from those little pipkins that stand under our noses, might reach you, or that yours might steam to us; at night, you'll see him chuse the flowers for your bed with the same circumspection." [1] the people, the populace. _cf_. pp. 74 (starts with "... without any difficulty, and...") and 168 ("... but you'll say, some are..."). [2] "libertinism" in seventeenth-century english is like the french _libertinage_, applied rather to licentiousness of opinion than of practice; so here it means rather "free thought" than free living. [3] deference. [4] _cf_. gulliver's voyage to lilliput, chap. vi. [5] respect. [6] fr., _dieu foyer_. the change seems to be an interesting embroidery of the translator's fancy, since he has correctly translated the words as "household god" on p. 76 (starts with "... companions had retreated to temples..."). [7] fr., "sous une pomme de chou" under a cabbage-head; where, as too curious children are sometimes told in france, the babies are found. the english expression is exactly equivalent. cf. locke: "sempronia dug titus out of the parsley bed, as they used to tell children, and so became his mother." [8] supported by the state. _cf_. p. 34, n. 1. (see note 10 chap. iii.) chapter xiii. _of the little animals that make up our life, and likewise cause our diseases; and of the disposition of the towns in the moon._ during all this discourse, i made signs to my landlord, that he would try if he could oblige the philosophers to fall upon some head of the science which they professed. he was too much my friend, not to start an occasion upon the spot: but not to trouble the reader with the discourse and entreaties that were previous to the treaty, wherein jest and earnest were so wittily interwoven, that it can hardly be imitated; i'll only tell you that the doctor, who came last, after many things, spake as follows: "it remains to be proved, that there are infinite worlds, in an infinite world: fancy to your self then the universe as a great animal; and that the stars, which are worlds, are in this great animal, as other great animals that serve reciprocally for worlds to other peoples; such as we, our horses, &c. that we in our turns, are likewise worlds to certain other animals, incomparably less than our selves, such as nits, lice, hand-worms, &c. and that these are an earth to others, more imperceptible ones; in the same manner as every one of us appears to be a great world to these little people. perhaps our flesh, blood, and spirits, are nothing else but a contexture of little animals[1] that correspond, lend us motion from theirs, and blindly suffer themselves to be guided by our will which is their coachman; or otherwise conduct us, and all conspiring together, produce that action which we call life. "for tell me, pray, is it a hard thing to be believed, that a louse takes your body for a world; and that when any one of them travels from one of your ears to the other, his companions say, that he hath travelled the earth from end to end, or that he hath run from one pole to the other? yes, without doubt, those little people take your hair for the forests of their country; the pores full of liquor, for fountains; buboes and pimples, for lakes and ponds; boils, for seas; and defluxions, for deluges: and when you comb your self, forwards, and backwards, they take that agitation for the flowing and ebbing of the ocean. doth not itching make good what i say? what is the little worm that causes it but one of these little animals, which hath broken off from civil society, that it may set up for a tyrant in its country? if you ask me, why are they bigger than other imperceptible creatures? i ask you, why are elephants bigger than we? and the _irish_-men, than _spaniards_? "as to the blisters, and scurff, which you know not the cause of; they must either happen by the corruption of their enemies, which these little blades have killed, or which the plague has caused by the scarcity of food, for which the seditious worried one another[2] and left mountains of dead carcases rotting in the field; or because the tyrant, having driven away on all hands his companions, who by their bodies stopt up the pores of ours, hath made way out for the waterish matter, which being extravasted out of the sphere of the circulation of our blood, is corrupted. it may be asked, perhaps, why a nit, or hand-worm, produces so many disorders: but that's easily conceived, for as one revolt begets another, so these little people, egg'd on by the bad example of their seditious companions, aspire severally to sovereign command; and occasion every where war, slaughter, and famine. "but you'll say, some are far less subject to itching than others; and, nevertheless, all are equally inhabited by these little animals, since you say they are the cause of our life. that's true; for we observe, that phlegmatick people are not so much given to scratching as the cholerick; because the people sympathizing with the climate they inhabit, are slower in a cold body, than those others that are heated by the temper of their region, who frisk and stir, and cannot rest in a place: thus a cholerick man is more delicate than a phlegmatick; because being animated in many more parts, and the soul being the action of these little beasts, he is capable of feeling in all places where these cattle stir. whereas the phlegmatick man, wanting sufficient heat to put that stirring mobile in action, is sensible but in a few places. "to prove more plainly that universal _vermicularity_, you need but consider, when you are wounded, how the blood runs to the sore: your doctors say that it is guided by provident nature, who would succour the parts debilitated; which might make us conclude, that, besides the soul and mind, there were a third intellectual substance, that had distinct organs and functions: and therefore, it seems to me far more rational to say, that these little animals finding themselves attacked send to demand assistance from their neighbours, and thus, recruits flocking in from all parts and the country being too little to contain so many, they either die of hunger or we stifled in the press. that mortality happens when the boil is ripe; for as an argument that these animals at that time are stifled, the flesh becomes insensible: now, if blood-letting, which is many times ordered to divert the fluxion, do any good, it is because, much being lost by the orifice which these little animals laboured to stop, they refuse their allies assistance, having no more forces than is enough to defend themselves at home." thus he concluded, and when the second philosopher perceived by all our looks that we longed to hear him speak in his turn: "men," said he, "seeing you are curious to instruct this little animal, (our like), in somewhat of the science which we profess, i am now dictating a treatise which i wish he might see, because of the light it gives to the understanding of our natural philosophy; it is an explication of the original[3] of the world: but seeing i am in haste to set my bellows at work, (for to morrow, without delay, the town departs;) i hope you'll excuse my want of time, and i promise to satisfie you as soon as the town is arrived at the place whither it is to go." [sidenote: towns in the moon] at these words, the landlord's son called his father, to know what it was a clock? who having answered him, that it was past eight, he asked him in a great rage, why he did not give him notice at seven, according as he had commanded him; that he knew well enough the houses were to be gone to morrow; and that the city walls were already upon their journey? "son," replyed the good man, "since you sate down to table, there is an order published, that no house shall budg before next day:" "that's all one," answered the young man; "you ought blindly to obey, not to examine my orders, and only remember what i commanded you. quick, go fetch me your effigies:" so soon as it was brought, he took hold on't by the arm, and whipt it a whole quarter of an hour: "away you ne'er be good," continued he; "as a punishment for your disobedience, it's my will and pleasure, that this day you serve for a laughing-stock to all people; and therefore i command you, not to walk but upon two legs, till night." the poor man went out in a very mournful condition, and the young man excused to us his passion. i had much ado, though i bit my lip, to forbear laughing at so pleasant a punishment; and therefore to take me off of this odd piece of pedantick discipline, which, without doubt, would have made, me burst out at last; i prayed my philosopher to tell me what he meant by that journey of the town he talked of, and if the houses and walls travelled? "dear stranger," answered he, "we have some ambulatory towns, and some sedentary; the ambulatory, as for instance this wherein now we are, are built in this manner: the architector, as you see, builds every palace of a very light sort of timber; supported by four wheels underneath; in the thickness of one of the walls he places ten large pair of bellows, whose snouts pass in a horizontal line through the upper story, from one pinacle to the other; so that when towns are to be removed from one place to another, (for according to the seasons they change the air) every one spreads a great many sails upon one side of the house, before the noses of the bellows; then having wound up a spring to make them play, in less than eight days time their houses, by the continual puffs which these windy monsters blow, are driven, if one pleases, an hundred leagues and more. "for those which we call sedentary, they are almost like to your towers; save that they are of timber, and that they have a great and strong skrew or vice in the middle, reaching from the top to the bottom; whereby they may be hoisted up or let down as people please. now the ground under neath is dugg as deep as the house is high; and it is so ordered, that so soon as the frosts begin to chill the air, they may sink their houses down under ground, where they keep themselves secure from the severity of the weather: but as soon as the gentle breathings of the spring begin to soften and qualifie the air; they raise them above ground again, by means of the great skrew i told you of." [1] this and the following paragraphs appear to be an anticipation of the microbe theory. [2] fr., "dont les séditieux se sont gorgés"--with which the rebels have filled their bellies. [3] cf. p. 95, n. 1. chapter xiv. _of the_ original _of all things; of atomes_; _and of the operation of the senses_. i prayed him, since he had shew'd so much goodness, and that the town was not to part[1] till next day, that he would tell me somewhat of that original of the world, which he had mentioned not long before; "and i promise you," said i, "that in requital, so soon as i am got back to the moon, from whence my governour (pointing to my spirit) will tell you that i am come, i'll spread your renown there, by relating the rare things you shall tell me: i perceive you laugh at that promise, because you do not believe that the moon i speak of is a world, and that i am an inhabitant of it; but i can assure you also, that the people of that world, who take this only for a moon, will laugh at me when i tell them that your moon is a world, and that there are fields and inhabitants in it:" he answered only with a smile, and spake in this manner: "since in ascending to the original of this great a l l, we are forced to run into three or four absurdities; it is but reasonable we should follow the way wherein we may be least apt to stumble. i say then, that the first obstacle that stops us short is the eternity of the world; and the minds of men, not being able enough to conceive it, and being no more able to imagine, that this great universe, so lovely and so well ordered, could have made it self, they have had their recourse to creation: but like to him that would leap into a river for fear of being wet with rain, they save themselves out of the clutches of a dwarf, by running into the arms of a giant; and yet they are not safe for all that: for that eternity which they deny the world, because they cannot comprehend it, they attribute it to god, as if he stood in need of that present, and as if it were easier to imagine it in the one than in the other; for tell me, pray, was it ever yet conceived in nature, how something can be made of nothing? alas! betwixt nothing and an atome only, there are such infinite disproportions, that the sharpest wit could never dive into them; therefore to get out of this inextricable labyrinth, you must admit of a matter eternal with god: but you'll say to me, grant i should allow you that eternal matter; how could that chaos dispose and order it self? that's the thing i am about to explain to you. "my little animal, after you have mentally divided every little visible body, into an infinite many little invisible bodies; you must imagine, that the infinite universe consists only of these atomes, which are most solid, most incorruptible, and most simple; whose figures are partly cubical, partly parallelograms, partly angular, partly round, partly sharp-pointed, partly pyramidal, partly six-cornered, and partly oval; which act all severally, according to their various figures: and to shew that it is so, put a very round ivory bowl upon a very smooth place, and with the least touch you give it will be half a quarter of an hour before it rest: now i say, that if it were perfectly round, as some of the atomes i speak of are, and the surface on which it is put perfectly smooth, it would never rest. if art then be capable of inclining a body to a perpetual motion, why may we not believe that nature can do it? it's the same with the other figures, of which the square requires a perpetual rest, others an oblique motion, others a half motion, as trepidation; and the round, whose nature is to move, joyning a pyramidal, makes that, perhaps, which we call fire; because not only fire is in continual agitation, but also because it easily penetrates: besides, the fire hath different effects, according to the openings and quality of the angles, when the round figure is joyned; for example, the fire of pepper is another thing than the fire of sugar, the fire of sugar differs from that of cinnamon; that of cinnamon, from that of the clove; and this from the fire of a faggot. now the fire, which is the architect of the parts and whole of the universe, hath driven together, and congregated into an oak, the quantity of figures which are necessary for the composition of that oak. "but you'll say, how could hazard congregate into one place all the figures that are necessary for the production of that oak? i answer, that it is no wonder that matter so disposed should form an oak, but the wonder would have been greater, if the matter being so disposed the oak had not been produced; had there been a few less of some figures, it would have been an elm, a poplar, a willow; and fewer of 'em still, it would have been the sensitive plant, an oyster, a worm, a flie, a frog, a sparrow, an ape, a man. if three dice being flung upon a table, there happen a raffle of two, or all;[2] a three, a four, and a five; or two sixes, and a third in the bottom;[3] would you say, o strange! that each die should turn up such a chance, when there were so many others. a sequence of three hath happened, o strange! two sixes turned up, and the bottom of the third, o strange! i am sure that being a man of sense, you'll never make such exclamations; for since there is but a certain quantity of numbers upon the dice, it's impossible but some of them must turn up; and you wonder, after that, how matter shuffled together pell-mell, as chance pleases, should make a man, seeing so many things were necessary for the construction of his being. you know not then, that this matter tending to the fabrick of a man hath been a million of times stopt in it's progress for forming sometimes a stone, sometimes lead, sometimes coral, sometimes flower, sometimes a comet; and all because of more or less figures, that were required for the framing of a man: so that it is no greater wonder, if amongst infinite matters, which incessantly change and stir, some have hit upon the construction of the few animals, vegetables, and minerals which we see, than if in a hundred casts of the dice, one should throw a raffle: nay, indeed, it is impossible, that in this hurling of things, nothing should be produced; and yet this will be always admired[4] by a blockhead, who little knows how small a matter would have made it to have been otherwise. when the great river of [illustration bar 3] makes a mill to grind, or guides the wheels of a clock, and the brook of [illustration: bar 4] only runs, and sometimes absconds, you will not say that that river hath a great deal of wit, because you know that it hath met with things disposed for producing such rare feats; for had not the mill stood in the way, it would not have ground the corn; had it not met the clock, it would not have marked the hours: and if the little rivulet i speak of had met with the same opportunities, it would have wrought the very same miracles. just so it is with the fire that moves of it self; for finding organs fit for the act of reasoning, it reasons; when it finds only such as are proper for sensation, it sensates; and when such as are fit for vegetation, it vegetates. and to prove it is so, put out but the eyes of a man, the fire of whose soul makes him to see, and he will cease to see; just as our great clock will leave off to make the hours, if the movements of it be broken. "in fine, these primary and indivisible atomes make a circle, whereon without difficulty move the most perplexed difficulties of natural philosophy; not so much as even the very operation of the senses, which no body hitherto hath been able to conceive, but i will easily explain by these little bodies. let us begin with the sight. it deserves, as being the most incomprehensible, our first essay. [sidenote: operation of the senses] [5]"it is performed then, as i imagine, when the tunicles of the eye, whose pores resemble those of glass, transmitting that fiery dust which is called visual rays, the same is stopt by some opacous matter which makes it recoil; and then, meeting in its retreat the image of the object that forced it back, and that image being but an infinite number of little bodies exhaled in an equal superfice from the object beheld, it pursues it to our eye: you'll not fail to object, i know, that glass is an opacous body, and very compact; and that nevertheless, instead of reflecting other bodies, it lets them pass through: but i answer, that the pores of glass are shaped in the same figure as those atomes are which pass through it; and as a wheat-sieve is not proper for sifting of oats, nor an oat-sieve to sift wheat; so a box of deal-board, though it be thin and lets a sound go through it, is impenetrable to the sight; and a piece of chrystal, though transparent and pervious to the eye, is not penetrable to the touch." i could not here forbear to interrupt him: "a great poet and philosopher[6] of our world," said i, "hath after _epicurus_ and _democritus_[7] spoken of these little bodies, in the same manner almost as you do; and therefore, you don't at all surprise me by that discourse: only tell me, i pray, as you proceed, how, according to your principles, you'll explain to me the manner of drawing your picture in a looking-glass." "that's very easie," replied he, "for imagine with your self, that those fires of our eyes, having passed through the glass and meeting behind it an opacous body that reverberates them, they come back the way they went; and finding those little bodies marching in equal superfices upon the glass, they repel them to our eyes; and our imagination, hotter than the other faculties of our soul, attracts the more subtile, wherewith it draws our picture in little. "it is as easie to conceive the act of hearing, and for _brevities_ sake, let us only consider it in the harmony of a lute, touched by the hand of a master. you'll ask me, how can it be, that i perceive at so great a distance a thing which i do not see? does there a sponge go out of my ears, that drinks up that musick, and brings it back with it again? or does the player beget in my head another little musician, with another little lute, who has orders like an eccho to sing over to me the same airs? no; but that miracle proceeds from this, that the string touched, striking those little bodies of which the air is composed, drives it gently into my brain, with those little corporeal nothings that sweetly pierce into it; and according as the string is stretched, the sound is high, because it more vigorously drives the atomes; and the organ being thus penetrated, furnisheth the fancy wherewith to make a representation; if too little, then our memory not having as yet finished its image, we are forced to repeat the same sound to it again; to the end it may take enough of materials, which, for instance, the measures of a _saraband_[8] furnish it with, for finishing the picture of that _saraband_; but that operation is nothing near so wonderful as those others, which by the help of the same organ excite us sometimes to joy, sometimes to anger. "and this happens, when in that motion these little bodies meet with other little bodies within us moving in the same manner, or whose figure renders them susceptible of the same agitation; for then these newcomers stir up their landlords to move as they do; &amp; thus, when a violent air meets with the fire of our blood, it inclines it to the same motion, and animates it to a sally, which is the thing we call heat of courage; if the sound be softer, and have only force enough to raise a less flame in greater agitation, by leading it along the nerves, membranes, and through the interstices of our flesh it excites that tickling which is called joy: and so it happens in the ebullition of the other passions, according as these little bodies are more or less violently tossed upon us, according to the motion they receive by the rencounter of other agitations, and according as they find dispositions in us for motion. so much for hearing. "now, i think the demonstration of touching will be every whit as easie, if we conceive that out of all palpable matter there is a perpetual emission of little bodies, and that the more we touch them, the more evaporates; because we press them out of the subject it self, as water out of a sponge when we squeez it. the hard make a report to the organ of their hardness; the soft, of their softness; the rough, &c. and since this is so, we are not so quaint in feeling with hands used to labour, because of the thickness of the skin, which being neither porous, nor animated, with difficulty transmits the evaporations of matter. some, perhaps, may desire to know where the organ of touching has its residence. for my part, i think it is spread over all the surface of the body, seeing in all parts it feels: yet i imagine, that the nearer the member, wherewith we touch, be to the head, the sooner we distinguish; which experience convinces us of, when with shut eyes we handle any thing, for then we'll more easily guess what it is; and if on the contrary we feel it with our hinder feet, it will be harder for us to know it: and the reason is, because our skin being all over perforated, our nerves, which are of no compacter matter, lose by the way a great many of those little atomes through the little holes of their contexture, before they reach the brain, which is their journeys end: it remains, that i speak of the smelling and tasting. "pray tell me, when i taste a fruit, is it not because the heat of my mouth melts it? confess to me then, that there being salts in a pear, and that they being separated by dissolution into little bodies of a different figure from those which make the taste of an apple, they must needs pierce our pallate in a very different manner: just so as the thrust of a pike, that passes through me, is not like the wound which a pistol-bullet makes me feel with a sudden start; and as that pistol bullet makes me suffer another sort of pain than that of a slug of steel. "i have nothing to say, as to the smelling, seeing the philosophers themselves confess, that it is performed by a continual emission of little bodies. "now upon the same principle will i explain to you the creation, harmony, and influence of the celestial globes, with the immutable variety of meteors." he was about to proceed; but the old landlord coming in, made our philosopher think of withdrawing: he brought in christals full of glow-worms, to light the parlour; but seeing those little fiery insects lose much of their light, when they are not fresh gathered, these which were ten days old had hardly any at all. my spirit stayed not till the company should complain of it, but went up to his chamber, and came immediately back again with two bowls of fire so sparkling that all wondred he burnt not his fingers. "these incombustible tapers," said he, "will serve us better than your week[9] of worms. they are rays of the sun, which i have purged from their heat; otherwise, the corrosive qualities of their fire would have dazzled and offended your eyes; i have fixed their light, and inclosed it within these transparent bowls.[10] that ought not to afford you any great cause of admiration; for it is not harder for me, who am a native of the sun, to condense his beams, which are the dust of that world, than it is for you to gather the atomes of the pulveriz'd earth of this world." thereupon our landlord sent a servant to wait upon the philosophers home, it being then night, with a dozen globes of glowworms hanging at his four legs. as for my preceptor and my self, we went to rest, by order of the phisiognomist. he laid me that night in a chamber of violets and lillies, [and] ordered me to be tickled after the usual manner. [1] _part_ and _depart_ were interchangeable in the seventeenth century. _cf_. shakspere, _two gentlemen of verona_: "but now he parted hence "; and, on the other hand, _king john_: "hath willingly departed with a part" (= _given up_ a part). [2] two alike, or all three alike. [3] two sixes and a one. [4] wondered at. [5] notice that the basis of this discussion is the supposition that the visual rays _start from the eye_. [6] lucretius. [7] democritus was the originator of the atomic theory. [8] a lively spanish dance-measure. [9] wick (_cf_. the standard dictionary). some modern french editions have "pelotons de verre," meaning "glass bulbs," but this is evidently a mistake, since the seventeenth-century editions have _verres_, which is their form, in all cases, for the modern _vers_. see also the first meaning of _peloton_ in littré. [10] the incandescent electric light? chapter xv. _of the books in the moon, and their fashion; of death, burial, and burning; of the manner of telling the time; and of_ noses. next morning about nine a clock, my spirit came in, and told me that he was come from court, where [illustration: bar 1] one of the queens maids of honour, had sent for him, and that she had enquired after me, protesting that she still persisted in her design to be as good as her word; that is, that with all her heart she would follow me, if i would take her along with me to the other world; "which exceedingly pleased me," said he, "when i understood that the chief motive which inclined her to the voyage, was to become christian: and therefore, i have promised to forward her design, what lies in me; and for that end to invent a machine that may hold three or four, wherein you may mount to day, both together, if you think fit. i'll go seriously set about the performance of my undertaking; and in the mean time, to entertain you, during my absence, i leave you here a book, which heretofore i brought with me from my native countrey; the title of it is, _the states and empires of the sun, with an addition of the history of the spark_.[1] i also give you this, which i esteem much more; it is the great work of the philosophers, composed by one of the greatest wits of the sun.[2] he proves in it that all things are true, and shews the way of uniting physically the truths of every contradiction; as, for example, that white is black, and black white; that one may be, and not be at the same time; that there may be a mountain without a valley; that nothing is something, and that all things that are, are not; but observe, that he proves all these unheard-of paradoxes without any captious or sophistical argument." [illustration: the author's flying machine.--from a 17th century engraving] "when you are weary of reading, you may walk, or converse with our landlord's son, he has a very charming wit; but that which i dislike in him is, that he is a little atheistical. if he chance to scandalize you, or by any argument shake your faith, fail not immediately to come and propose it to me, and i'll clear the difficulties of it; any other, but i, would enjoin you to break company with him; but since he is extreamly proud and conceited, i am certain he would take your flight for a defeat, and would believe your faith to be grounded on no reason, if you refused to hear his." having said so, he left me; and no sooner was his back turned, but i fell to consider attentively my books and their boxes, that's to say, their covers, which seemed to me to be wonderfully rich; the one was cut of a single diamond, incomparably more resplendent than ours; the second looked like a prodigious great pearl, cloven in two. my spirit had translated those books into the language of that world; but because i have none of their print, i'll now explain to you the fashion of these two volumes. [sidenote: books in the moon] as i opened the box, i found within somewhat of metal, almost like to our clocks, full of i know not what little springs and imperceptible engines: it was a book, indeed; but a strange and wonderful book, that had neither leaves nor letters: in fine, it was a book made wholly for the ears, and not the eyes. so that when any body has a mind to read in it, he winds up that machine with a great many strings; then he turns the hand to the chapter which he desires to hear, and straight, as from the mouth of a man, or a musical instrument, proceed all the distinct and different sounds,[3] which the _lunar_ grandees make use of for expressing their thoughts, instead of language. when i since reflected on this miraculous invention, i no longer wondred that the young--men of that country were more knowing at sixteen or eighteen years old, than the gray-beards of our climate; for knowing how to read as soon as speak, they are never without lectures,[4] in their chambers, their walks, the town, or travelling; they may have in their pockets, or at their girdles, thirty of these books, where they need but wind up a spring to hear a whole chapter, and so more, if they have a mind to hear the book quite through; so that you never want the company of all the great men, living and dead, who entertain you with living voices. this present employed me about an hour; and then hanging them to my ears, like a pair of pendants, i went a walking; but i was hardly at end of the street when i met a multitude of people very melancholy. four of them carried upon their shoulders a kind of a herse, covered with black: i asked a spectator, what that procession, like to a funeral in my country, meant? he made me answer, that that naughty [illustration bar 2] called so by the people because of a knock he had received upon the right knee, being convicted of envy and ingratitude, died the day before; and that twenty years ago, the parliament had condemned him to die in his bed, and then to be interred after his death. i fell a laughing at that answer. and he asking me, why? "you amaze me," said i, "that that which is counted a blessing in our world, as a long life, a peaceable death, and an honourable burial, should pass here for an exemplary punishment." "what, do you take a burial for a precious thing then," replyed that man? "and, in good earnest, can you conceive any thing more horrid than a corps crawling with worms, at the discretion of toads which feed on his cheeks; the plague it self clothed with the body of a man? good god! the very thought of having, even when i am dead, my face wrapt up in a shroud, and a pike-depth of earth upon my mouth, makes me i can hardly fetch breath. the wretch whom you see carried here, besides the disgrace of being thrown into a pit, hath been condemned to be attended by an hundred and fifty of his friends; who are strictly charged, as a punishment for their having loved an envious and ungrateful person, to appear with a sad countenance at his funeral; and had it not been that the judges took some compassion of him, imputing his crimes partly to his want of wit, they would have been commanded to weep there also. "all are burnt here, except malefactors: and, indeed, it is a most rational and decent custom: for we believe, that the fire having separated the pure from the impure, the heat by sympathy reassembles the natural heat which made the soul, and gives it force to mount up till it arrive at some star, the country of certain people more immaterial and intellectual than us; because their temper ought to suit with, and participate of the globe which they inhabit. "however, this is not our neatest way of burying neither; for when any one of our philosophers comes to an age, wherein he finds his wit begin to decay, and the ice of his years to numm the motions of his soul, he invites all his friends to a sumptuous banquet; then having declared to them the reasons that move him to bid farewel to nature, and the little hopes he has of adding any thing more to his worthy actions, they shew him favour; that's to say, they suffer him to dye; or otherwise are severe to him and command him to live. when then, by plurality of voices, they have put his life into his own hands, he acquaints his dearest friends with the day and place. these purge, and for four and twenty hours abstain from eating; then being come to the house of the sage, and having sacrificed to the sun, they enter the chamber where the generous philosopher waits for them on a bed of state; every one embraces him, and when it comes to his turn whom he loves best, having kissed him affectionately, leaning upon his bosom, and joyning mouth to mouth, with his right hand he sheaths a dagger in his heart." [sidenote: telling the time] i interrupted this discourse, saying to him that told me all, that this manner of acting much resembled the ways of some people of our world; and so pursued my walk, which was so long that when i came back dinner had been ready two hours. they asked me, why i came so late? it is not my fault, said i to the cook, who complained: i asked what it was a clock several times in the street, but they made me no answer but by opening their mouths, shutting their teeth, and turning their faces awry. "how," cried all the company, "did not you know by that, that they shewed you what it was a clock?" "faith," said i, "they might have held their great noses in the sun long enough, before i had understood what they meant." "it's a commodity," said they, "that saves them the trouble of a watch; for with their teeth they make so true a dial, that when they would tell any body the hour of the day, they do no more but open their lips, and the shadow of that nose, falling upon their teeth, like the gnomon of a sun-dial, makes the precise time. "now that you may know the reason, why all people in this country have great noses; as soon as a woman is brought to bed the midwife carries the child to the _master of the seminary_; and exactly at the years end, the skillful being assembled, if his nose prove shorter than the standing measure, which an alderman keeps, he is judged to be a _flat nose_, and delivered over to be gelt. you'll ask me, no doubt, the reason of that barbarous custom, and how it comes to pass that we, amongst whom virginity is a crime, should enjoyn continence by force; but know that we do so, because after thirty ages experience we have observed, that a great nose is the mark of a witty, courteous, affable, generous and liberal man; and that a little nose is a sign of the contrary:[5] wherefore of _flat noses_ we make eunuchs, because the republick had rather have no children at all than children like them." [sidenote: of noses] he was still a speaking, when i saw a man come in stark naked; i presently sat down and put on my hat to shew him honour, for these are the greatest marks of respect, that can be shew'd to any in that country. "the kingdom," said he, "desires you would give the magistrates notice, before you return to your own world; because a mathematician hath just now undertaken before the council, that provided when you are returned home, you would make a certain machine, that he'll teach you how to do; he'll attract your globe, and joyn it to this." during all this discourse we went on with our dinner; and as soon as we rose from table, we went to take the air in the garden; where taking occasion to speak of the generation and conception of things, he said to me, "you must know, that the earth, converting it self into a tree, from a tree into a hog, and from a hog into a man, is an argument that all things in nature aspire to be men; since that is the most perfect being, as being a quintessence, and the best devised mixture in the world; which alone unites the animal and rational life into one. none but a pedant will deny me this, when we see that a plumb-tree, by the heat of its germ, as by a mouth, sucks in and digests the earth that's about it; that a hog devours the fruit of this tree, and converts it into the substance of it self; and that a man feeding on that hog, reconcocts that dead flesh, unites it to himself, and makes that animal to revive under a more noble species. so the man whom you see, perhaps threescore years ago was no more but a tuft of grass in my garden; which is the more probable, that the opinion of the _pythagorean metamorphosis_, which so many great men maintain, in all likelyhood has only reached us to engage us into an enquiry after the truth of it; as, in reality, we have found that matter, and all that has a vegetative or sensitive life, when once it hath attained to the period of its perfection, wheels about again and descends into its inanity, that it may return upon the stage and act the same parts over and over." i went down extreamly satisfyed to the garden, and was beginning to rehearse to my companion what our master had taught me; when the physiognomist came to conduct us to supper, and afterwards to rest. [1] cyrano's own work. it is full of interesting matters, including a trip through the country of the birds, which offers many points of comparison with gulliver's voyage to the country of the houyhnhms. cyrano finally, under the guidance of campanella, arrives at the land of the philosophers of the sun (compare swift's laputa), where he meets descartes and gassendi, as gulliver does in the laputan province of glubbdubdrib (voyage to laputa, chap. viii.). cyrano's machine for reaching the sun, depicted in the illustration opposite, is best described in the words of m. rostand's play, and completes our parallels with all the six means of scaling the sky which cyrano there enumerates: "or else, i could have let the wind into a cedar coffer, then ratified the imprisoned element by means of cunningly adjusted burning glasses, and soared up with it." [2] probably campanella; cf. p. 78, n. 1. on his "great work," _cf_. also p. 79, n. 1. (see note 12 and 13 chap. vii.) [3] is this an anticipation of the phonograph? [4] _readings_. cf. sir thomas browne: "in the lecture of holy scripture, their apprehensions are commonly confined unto the literal sense of the text." [5] _cf_. m. rostand's _cyrano de bergerac_, act i. scene iv.: "_cyrano_. a great nose is properly the index of an affable, kindly, courteous man, witty, liberal, brave, such as i am! and such as you are forevermore precluded from supposing yourself, deplorable rogue!" chapter xvi. _of miracles; and of curing by the imagination._ next morning, so soon as i awoke, i went to call up my antagonist. "it is," said i, accosting him, "as great a miracle to find a great wit, like yours, buried in sleep, as to see fire without heat and action:" he bore with this ugly compliment; "but," (cryed he, with a cholerick kind of love) "will you never leave these fabulous terms? know, that these names defame the name of a philosopher; and that seeing the wise man sees nothing in the world, but what he conceives, and judges may be conceived, he ought to abhor all those expressions of prodigies, and extraordinary events of nature, which block heads have invented to excuse the weakness of their understanding." i thought my self then obliged in conscience, to endeavour to undeceive him; and therefore, said i, "though you be very stiff and obstinate in your opinions, yet i have plainly seen supernatural things happen:" "say you so," continued he; "you little know, that the force of imagination is able to cure all the diseases which you attribute to supernatural causes, by reason of a certain natural balsam, that contains qualities quite contrary to the qualities of the diseases that attack us; which happens, when our imagination informed by pain searches in that place for the specifick remedy, which it applies to the poison. that's the reason, why an able physician of your world advises the patient to make use of an ignorant doctor whom he esteems to be very knowing, rather than of a very skilful physician whom he may imagine to be ignorant; because he fancies, that our imagination labouring to recover our health, provided it be assisted by remedies, is able to cure us; but that the strongest medicines are too weak, when not applied by imagination. do you think it strange, that the first men of your world lived so many ages without the least knowledge of physick? no. and what might have been the cause of that, in your judgement; unless their nature was as yet in its force, and that natural balsam in vigour, before they were spoilt by the drugs wherewith physicians consume you; it being enough then for the recovery of ones health, earnestly to wish for it, and to imagine himself cured: so that their vigorous fancies, plunging into that vital oyl, extracted the elixir of it, and applying actives to passives, in almost the twinkling of an eye they found themselves as sound as before: which, notwithstanding the depravation of nature, happens even at this day, though somewhat rarely; and is by the multitude called a miracle: for my part, i believe not a jot on't, and have this to say for my self, that it is easier for all these doctors to be mistaken, than that the other may not easily come to pass: for i put the question to them; a patient recovered out of a feaver, heartily desired, during his sickness, as it is like, that he might be cured, and, may be, made vows for that effect; so that of necessity he must either have dyed, continued sick, or recovered: had he died, then would it have been said, kind heaven hath put an end to his pains; nay, and that according to his prayers, he was now cured of all diseases, praised be the lord: had his sickness continued, one would have said, he wanted faith; but because he is cured, it's a miracle forsooth. is it not far more likely, that his fancy, being excited by violent desires, hath done its duty and wrought the cure? for grant he hath escaped, what then? must it needs be a miracle? how many have we seen, pray, and after many solemn vows and protestations, go to pot with all their fair promises and resolutions." "but at least," replied i to him, "if what you say of that balsam be true, it is a mark of the rationality of our soul; seeing without the help of our reason, or the concurrence of our will, she acts of her self; as if being without us, she applied the active to the passive. now if being separated from us she is rational, it necessarily follows that she is spiritual; and if you acknowledge her to be spiritual, i conclude she is immortal; seeing death happens to animals, only by the changing of forms, of which matter alone is capable." the young man at that, decently sitting down upon his bed, and making me also to sit, discoursed, as i remember, in this manner: "as for the soul of beasts, which is corporeal, i do not wonder they die; seeing the best harmony of the four qualities may be dissolved, the greatest force of blood quelled, and the loveliest proportion of organs disconcerted; but i wonder very much, that our intellectual, incorporeal, and immortal soul should be constrained to dislodge and leave us, by the same cause that makes an ox to perish. hath she covenanted with our body, that as soon as he should receive a prick with a sword in the heart, a bullet in the brain, or a musket-shot through the chest, she should pack up and be gone? and if that soul were spiritual, and of her self so rational that being separated from our mass she understood as well as when clothed with a body; why cannot blind men, born with all the fair advantages of that intellectual soul, imagine what it is to see? is it because they are not as yet deprived of sight, by the death of all their senses? how! i cannot then make use of my right hand, because i have a left! "and in fine, to make a just comparison which will overthrow all that you have said; i shall only alledge to you a painter, who cannot work without his pencil: and i'll tell you, that it is just so with the soul, when she wants the use of the senses. yet they have the soul, which can only act imperfectly, because of the loss of one of her tools, in the course of life, to be able then to work to perfection, when after our death she hath lost them all. if they tell me, over and over again, that she needeth not these instruments for performing her functions, i'll tell them e'en so, that then all the blind about the streets ought to be whipt at a carts-arse, for playing the counterfeits in pretending not to see a bit." he would have gone on in such impertinent arguments, had not i stopt his mouth, by desiring him to forbear, as he did for fear of a quarrel; for he perceived i began to be in a heat: so that he departed, and left me admiring the people of that world, amongst whom even the meanest have naturally so much wit; whereas those of ours have so little, and yet so dearly bought. chapter xvii. _of the author's return to the earth._ at length my love for my country took me off of the desire and thoughts i had of staying there; i minded nothing now but to be gone; but i saw so much impossibility in the matter, that it made me quite peevish and melancholick. my spirit observed it, and having asked me, what was the reason that my humor was so much altered? i frankly told him the cause of my melancholy; but he made me such fair promises concerning my return, that i relied wholly upon him. i acquainted the council with my design; who sent for me, and made me take an oath, that i should relate in our world, all that i had seen in that. my passports then were expeded, and my spirit having made necessary provisions for so long a voyage, asked me, what part of my country i desired to light in? i told him, that since most of the rich youths of _paris_, once in their life time, made a journey to _rome_; imagining after that that there remained no more worth the doing or seeing; i prayed him to be so good as to let me imitate them. "but withal," said i, "in what machine shall we perform the voyage, and what orders do you think the mathematician, who talked t'other day of joyning this globe to ours, will give me?" "as to the mathematician," said he, "let that be no hinderance to you; for he is a man who promises much, and performs little or nothing. and as to the machine that's to carry you back, it shall be the same which brought you to court." "how," said i, "will the air become as solid as the earth, to bear your steps? i cannot believe that." "and it is strange," replied he, "that you should believe, and not believe. pray why should the witches of your world, who march in the air, and conduct whole armies of hail, snow, rain, and other meteors, from one province into another, have more power than we? pray have a little better opinion of me, than to think i would impose upon you." "the truth is," said i, "i have received so many good offices from you, as well as _socrates_, and the rest, for whom you have [had] so great kindness, that i dare trust my self in your hands, as now i do, resigning my self heartily up to you." i had no sooner said the word, but he rose like a whirlwind, and holding me between his arms, without the least uneasiness he made me pass that vast space which astronomers reckon betwixt the moon and us, in a day and a halfs time; which convinced me that they tell a lye who say that a millstone would be three hundred threescore, and i know not how many years more, in falling from heaven, since i was so short a while in dropping down from the globe of the moon upon this. at length, about the beginning of the second day, i perceived i was drawing near our world; since i could already distinguish europe from africa, and both from asia; when i smelt brimstone which i saw steaming out of a very high mountain,[1] that incommoded me so much that i fainted away upon it. i cannot tell what befel me afterwards; but coming to my self again, i found i was amongst briers on the side of a hill, amidst some shepherds, who spoke _italian_. i knew not what was become of my spirit, and i asked the shepherds if they had not seen him. at that word they made the sign of the cross, and looked upon me as if i had been a devil my self: but when i told them that i was a christian, and that i begg'd the charity of them, that they would lead me to some place where i might take a little rest; they conducted me into a village, about a mile off; where no sooner was i come but all the dogs of the place, from the least cur to the biggest mastiff, flew upon me, and had torn me to pieces, if i had not found a house wherein i saved my self: but that hindered them not to continue their barking and bawling, so that the master of the house began to look upon me with an evil eye; and really i think, as people are very apprehensive when accidents which they look upon to be ominous happen, that man could have delivered me up as a prey to these accursed beasts, had not i bethought my self that that which madded them so much at me, was the world from whence i came; because being accustomed to bark at the moon, they smelt i was come from thence, by the scent of my cloaths, which stuck to me as a sea-smell hangs about those who have been long on ship-board, for some time after they come ashore. to air myself then, i lay three or four hours in the sun, upon a terrass-walk; and being afterwards come down, the dogs, who smelt no more that influence which had made me their enemy, left barking, and peaceably went to their several homes. next day i parted for _rome_, where i saw the ruins of the triumphs of some great men, as well as of ages: i admired those lovely relicks; and the repairs of some of them made by the modern. at length, having stayed there a fortnight in company of _monsieur de cyrano_ my cousin, who advanced me money for my return, i went to _civita vecchia_, and embarked in a galley that carried me to _marseilles_. during all this voyage, my mind run upon nothing but the wonders of the last i made. at that time i began the memoires of it; and after my return, put them into as good order, as sickness, which confines me to bed, would permit. but foreseeing, that it will put an end to all my studies, and travels;[2] that i may be as good as my word to the council of that world; i have begg'd of _monsieur le bret_, my dearest and most constant friend, that he would publish them with the history of the _republick of the sun_, that of the _spark_, and some other pieces of my composing, if those who have stolen them from us restore them to him, as i earnestly adjure them to do.[3] [1] vesuvius. [2] fr., "travaux," _i.e._, old english _travails_. [3] the manuscript of the _bibliothèque nationale_ ends differently: "i enquired at the port when a ship would leave for france. and when i was embarked, my mind ran upon nothing but the wonders of my voyage. i admired a thousand times the providence of god who had set apart these naturally infidel men in a place by themselves where they could not corrupt his beloved; and had punished them for their pride by abandoning them to their own self-sufficiency. likewise i doubt not that he has put off till now the sending of any to preach the gospel to them, for the very reason that he knew they would receive it ill; and so, hardening their hearts, it would serve but to make them deserve the harsher punishment in the world to come." this is very likely the original ending of the work as it was circulated in manuscript between 1649 and 1655. in any case, the particular thrust-and-parry used here is a favorite stroke with the "libertins" of the epoch in their duels against "les préjugés." "these are not my opinions and arguments," they say; "heaven forbid!... they only express the ideas of my characters which of course i abhor." at the same time the arguments have been stated, which was the object in view. cyrano has several times used this method already, notably at the end of chapter xvi. the ending in the text above, that of all the editions, may have been substituted by cyrano himself during his last illness. finis. one against the moon donald a. wollheim the world publishing company cleveland and new york library of congress catalog card number: 56-9261 first edition hc856 copyright 1956 by donald a. wollheim. all rights reserved. no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher, except for brief passages included in a review appearing in a newspaper or magazine. manufactured in the united states of america. [transcriber's note: extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] to william balter a fixed star in a fickle sky donald a. wollheim has written the secret of saturn's rings the secret of the martian moons has edited terror in the modern vein every boy's book of science-fiction the portable novels of science flight into space adventures on other planets the pocket book of science-fiction contents 1. dream of stars 13 2. white sands or red? 23 3. up the space ladder 33 4. riding the atoms 51 5. fall without end 61 6. target: luna 71 7. the honeycomb place 81 8. robinson crusoe carew 92 9. from stone age to iron age 102 10. the incredible footprints 111 11. the glass man 121 12. the long trek 131 13. the sun and the trap 147 14. the man from lake baikal 157 15. getaway bomb 165 16. on the crater floor 175 17. moon calling earth 187 18. madman's battle 198 19. riding the tornado 208 one against the moon _1. to dream of stars_ that morning began like all the preceding mornings of the past two years with the tinny jangling of the little alarm clock on robin carew's bureau. opening his black eyes, he struggled into a sitting position on the narrow bed, reached out his hand and turned off the alarm. he yawned, swung his feet to the floor, rubbed his eyes. it was half past seven again of another workday morning. there was no inkling that this day would be any different from others. it was monday again, which meant the start of the next five and a half days' stretch of work. sunday had come and gone, now just a memory of a walk in the city's small park and sitting on a bench under the afternoon sun reading a library book on astronomy. well, there was no getting around it, robin thought. the stars, the glory of the heavens--for him perhaps they would always be just a daydream of his idle hours, never to be more than a vision of the imagination, a thrill to be shared only by the printed words of other men's observations and doings. he got up, yawned his entire five foot three, stared in the tarnished mirror over the worn bureau. he looked blankly at himself, then suddenly winked. ah, he thought, while there's life there's hope--and besides, he had to get to work. he ran a brush through his tousled brown hair, took off his pajamas, and climbed into his work clothes. grabbing his towel and his toothbrush, he opened the door and went out into the hall toward the washroom. the facilities at the y were always clean at least, and maybe in a few more months he would be promoted out of the apprentice class at the factory. then he could afford to get a bigger room on the floor above with his own washstand and shower. after he had returned and finished dressing, he glanced out the narrow window. he could just make out a slit of sky and spot the sidewalk below. it was a sunny day, he saw, and a warm one. putting on his jacket, he left his cap behind and went out, locking the door of his little room behind him. not waiting for the creaky elevator, he skipped down the iron stairs to the lobby. waving hello to a couple of his fellow boarders, he made his way over to the newsstand. there he paused to glance at the headlines, to scan the racks of magazines to see if there were any he might think of buying that he hadn't seen before. he didn't notice any. his eye, rapidly discarding the featured stories in the papers about the usual crimes and politics, was caught by a small heading: rocket program ahead of schedule--project chief reports tests are many months advanced! robin stopped, rapidly glanced over the story. he wished he had the time to read the whole story, but he knew he hadn't. anyway, he could probably borrow a copy during lunch hour from one of the fellows. but it was stories like that which fascinated him. as he went into the cafeteria at the y and sat eating a quick breakfast, he thought about the story. he'd always been fascinated by rockets and the stars. even when still a kid at the orphanage, he'd read everything he could get on the subject. he'd never stopped doing so. now that he was out of the school, out on his own the past three years, he still had the bug. the white sands and redstone rocket experiments were making headlines more and more. the first dozen little satellites had been thrilling reading--the discussions of the permanent artificial satellite program, now under way, was even more so, for it promised to be the beginning of the long-projected space platform, from which in turn would come the first real space flight. robin wished he knew more of the things that were going on. somewhere out there in the west, on the deserts and sands of new mexico a couple of thousand miles away, history was being made. many of the fellows working there couldn't be much older than he. but fate was a grim and arbitrary thing. for others, a college education could bring to a fine point the talent for mathematics and chemistry and physics that was needed for this work. for an orphan boy, however, the world reserved less glamorous and more immediately practical objectives. oh, sure, he'd had a chance at a scholarship, but somehow he just hadn't made it. the manual training programs stressed at the state home had just not allowed him the extra time to study for a scholarship. even though his instructors had given him the chance, he simply hadn't been able to make it. for him, the study of abstract science was to be a matter of home reading. he'd devoured all the books in the library on the stars. and he still dreamed, even while working in the carpentry shop of the factory here, of flying through space on wings of flame. perhaps, if he'd had a mother and father like most fellows, he'd have gone to college, might even now be on his way to help the rocket men conquer the universe. but his folks had died somewhere in the holocaust of war, back during the fall of hitler's germany, back when he was just a frightened and helpless kid of seven. as he had agreed a thousand times since then, robin reflected, as he spooned cereal to his mouth, he was lucky even so. for somehow the gi's had found a battered, dirty envelope sewn into his worn internment-camp jacket with identification that proved him the american-born son of american parents, who had been interned in the enemy country. but where his parents were ... well, there had been some terrible bombing in those days. there was never any trace of the carews. robin had only a vague memory of his people, somewhere lost amid a nightmare of terror. as most of the kids in the orphanage had, robin dreamed of someday finding his folks, of finding them rich. but it was, as always, a dream. the american army had brought him home, had sought to trace his folks, and had failed. well, robin still was lucky. it was no shame to be a workingman in a democratic country. time was passing. robin hastily gulped down the glass of milk he knew he needed for his daily labors, and, paying his check, dashed out. he caught the bus at the corner, crowding in with others on their way, and rode it for fifteen minutes out to the edge of town where the big plant stood. he jumped off and headed for the main gates. he noticed a large crowd of men standing in front of them. why were they standing, he thought, why didn't they go on in, punch their cards? he came up to them, saw them standing around talking uneasily, some milling around, holding their lunch pails idly in their hands. robin pushed through to the main gate. he saw a knot of men staring at a sign tacked on the post. he got closer and read it. it was a statement from the management. it seemed that the plant was closed for six weeks, due to a combination of circumstances. there was a shortage in the raw materials because of the heavy floods in the mining areas that spring, and so the management had decided to take advantage of that shortage to retool and recondition the works. men in several departments would be called in during the next few days, the rest would be laid off temporarily. another notice tacked below that stated that the company had arranged with the union for compensation during the period. robin stared at the notice numbly for a minute. he himself had not yet been admitted to the union, for he was only a learning apprentice. for him there would possibly be only a period of six barren, workless weeks. he wandered away from the gates, drifted around idly, listening to the groups of men talking. most of them seemed to be taking it calmly enough. several of them were talking with growing enthusiasm of organizing a hunting-and-fishing trip upstate for the next week or so. one was talking of going home to visit the old folks back at the farm. most of them seemed to be looking forward more or less to a period of loafing around at home with their families. suddenly robin felt more alone than usual. for him, there was no family. even at its best an orphanage has a certain coldness, a certain impersonal precision that can never make up for the warmth of family life. he had friends there, but surely by this time they, too, had left, having gone into business or into the armed forces. the cold halls of the y offered no particular relaxation. even utilizing the city library to burrow deep into his favorite imaginative studies of science seemed a barren prospect for six whole weeks. he wandered away from the men, walked along the great factory wall, hands in his pockets, strolling slowly away from the city, along the road to the open country, beyond the end of the bus lines. he thought about himself. he took stock of himself. nearly twenty now, he was a good mechanic, a pretty good carpenter, handy. he'd always be able to get a job somewhere in which he could work with his hands. he'd never thought too much though about the future. he would be taken sooner or later by the armed forces. they hadn't needed him and he hadn't thought about volunteering first. he was always a little sensitive about his height, for he was short for his age. this had probably operated subconsciously to keep him from joining up. i could sign up now, he thought. this might be the time. besides, he went on in his reasoning, if i volunteered i could pick my own branch of the service. i could pick the air force and maybe get to see some rockets and jets in action. i couldn't rate a pilot's commission because i'm no college man, but i bet i could qualify as a mechanic, get to work on the rocket planes. why, maybe i could even manage to get sent to white sands, work on the space platform and the artificial satellites. maybe someday i'll be one of the guys who help tool up the first rocket to the moon! he found himself growing excited at the thought. but, he reminded himself, my chances are slim of getting what i want. there are so many good guys in the air force, my own chance of being sent to one particular place is small, really small. somehow, he knew if he couldn't be around the rockets, he wouldn't be happy under discipline. he'd had enough barracks life in the orphanage, more didn't appeal to him without some special compensation--something like white sands. so--he had six weeks with nothing to do. he walked on, beyond the town now, alongside the highway, the morning sun shining down, the blue sky beaming overhead, and he began to feel himself swelling with energy, glowing with ambition. six weeks ... six weeks. he was young, he had no ties. maybe he could hitchhike to white sands in time to look around, maybe spot a rocket go winging off into the sky, then hitchhike back in time for the factory's reopening. the idea blazed into his mind, he felt his pulse beating uncontrollably. maybe, maybe, his mind added to the picture, maybe you could get a job in white sands, near the field. maybe they hire civilian workers? or--maybe if you enlist there they'll let you serve there? abruptly he turned around, started walking rapidly back to the city. he'd do it, he told himself excitedly. he'd do it. he'd go back to the y now, today, collect what he needed, take the few dollars he'd saved up, and go. his mind repeated a rhythm as he walked. do it now, if you don't do it now, you'll never do it. this is your chance. go. the west is calling. the rockets are calling. make a break for yourself. go! he reached the end of the bus line, hopped on the bus, vibrated in tune to his racing thoughts all the way back. but an hour and a half later, when he was standing in the bus terminal, the first flush of excitement had drained away. now he felt a cold chill running through him. he had made the break, packed a few necessities, drew his small reserve of cash from the bank, paid his room rent six weeks in advance, and bought a ticket on the bus going westward. he couldn't afford the entire trip to new mexico, so he bought passage for a few hundred miles. after that he'd hike and thumb rides the rest of the way. he didn't want to resort to charity so he had kept enough funds to keep him in food and lodgings if necessary and maybe take him part way home again. for a moment before boarding the bus, robin hesitated. was it after all but a daydream that he was pursuing? was the cold reality to prove too indifferent to the hopes of just an ordinary young fellow? would white sands prove a disappointment? was this a mistake he would regret? for just a second he hesitated and then, shaking his head angrily as if to drive out such thoughts, he stepped aboard the bus, slung his lightly packed valise onto the rack over an empty seat, and sat down. he would refuse to give up his vision. he would see this through. the horn honked, two or three more passengers swung aboard, the driver threw in the clutch, and the bus drove out of the terminal, along the long, dusty road west. _2. white sands or red?_ from missouri where the bus ride had ended, the time had passed with difficulty. there had been two hot days through kansas, standing by lonely roadsides while cars whizzed by without stopping, the strong sun beating down over the flat green plains, the insects alive with the fever of the endless wheat. robin had to keep heading south, south and west always, driving down when cars were going that way. down through oklahoma, thumbing his way, sometimes with an eastern tourist on his way to california, sometimes with a tired rancher or oil worker on a short haul to his home or town, sometimes with a bored truck driver anxious to have someone to talk to on the long trip. the closer he drew to his objective, the more excited he became. when the oil fields and gray lands of oklahoma began to turn to the green flatness of the texas panhandle he grew silent, more intense. and finally, one morning when he sped out of amarillo sharing the high front seat of a giant trailer truck bound for el paso, he was almost speechless for miles and miles. then, suddenly, as the road clicked across the invisible border of new mexico, he began to talk. a sudden calm invaded his nerves. he talked with the driver about things back home, exchanged comments on the affairs in the news, his eyes taking stock of this land all the time. it was barren--for vast stretches dry desert and flat rock with only sparse clumps of desert green--now and then a stretch of good grasslands where cattle could be seen grazing. in the distance, gaunt mountain chains rose and fell; and the air was getting clear and thin as the road gradually rose in altitude. after a bite in roswell, when he piled back into the truck, robin knew he was on his last stretch. after the next stop, alamogordo, he would reach his destination, las cruces. mention of alamogordo, though, set the driver talking about the atom bomb, for that had been the town that had first seen the birth of that eerie fire which seemed so destined to transform the world. "did you ever see one of those blasts?" asked robin quietly. "yeah," said the driver slowly. "guess you could say so. didn't actually see the thing itself, but i seen the glare one morning while putting over in alamogordo. quite a sight. you know the blast was plenty far away too; they don't fire them things off anywhere near where they can hurt anybody. wisht i'd get to see one of them rockets go up they're always firing off at white sands too. but i guess you gotta be on the grounds for that, and they don't let visitors hang around." "no visitors?" asked robin, a little uneasily. "nope. that's all top-secret stuff out there. now that they got those man-made satellite projects in operation, it's even more so. maybe they let a few reporters in on special occasions, or some high brass with clearance from washington, but nobody else can get in. can't even get the gi's who are out there to talk much about it. you'll see a lot of them around las cruces saturday nights on furlough but they just don't discuss it." "how far is white sands from las cruces?" asked robin. "oh, not too far, maybe thirty miles. the proving grounds are out on the desert though, part of the holloman air development center that is taking up a lot of this here tularosa basin these years. without a pass, you can't even get in sight of it. but, heck, you wouldn't want to, i hope. might get conked when one of those whacking big rockets come down. they're always shooting 'em up on tests, making them bigger and bigger. you can't tell me they always know where they're going to come down!" they passed alamogordo, drove an hour more through the stillness of the desert, and suddenly they were in las cruces. the truck drew to a halt, and robin dropped off, his valise in his hand. the city didn't seem aware of its unique position on the map of world history. robin trudged along the main street until he found a small hotel within his means. he got a room, washed from the trip, brushed his clothes. he had not taken any pants to spare, having put on a strong pair of khaki work trousers, figuring correctly that they were more the thing for hitchhiking than his one good sunday suit. by the time he went downstairs night had fallen. he got a bite to eat, walked around the town a bit, went back and to bed. he was dog-tired from the long day's ride. next day he walked the town, looking it over, asking questions about how to get to white sands. he found that the truck driver's advice had been right. there simply was no way a visitor could just go and watch. it was all top-secret stuff, barred to any but legitimate personnel. he found an air force recruiting office, went in, and talked with the sergeant in charge. robin had begun to dread the thought that in the end he might have to go back to his home city and back to work in the factory. he had so fixed his mind on the rockets, he couldn't bring himself to admit defeat now. the air force man confirmed the usual information. robin pressed him to say whether if he signed up for the service in las cruces he wouldn't stand a good chance of being assigned there. the sergeant laughed. "well, it's possible, but it might take a little doing. you get in the air force, let us train you for a good job, say you work to be a mechanic for jets and rockets, then maybe you might be assigned here. but there are lots of stations for men, and you might not. still, if you were to work for it, say after a year in service, you might apply for a transfer to white sands; it could be that you could get it. but there's no guarantee, none at all. if the force needs you more somewhere else, that'll have to be it. why not sign up and try for it?" but robin shook his head. "not yet. i want to see if maybe i can get a civilian job there first, or maybe just visit it once." the sergeant nodded. "you can try. after that, come around and see me again." robin nodded, and left. he thought about that as he walked the streets. it might be a good alternative. it did offer at least a chance at the work he dreamed of, at being near the rockets. yet--to be so near _now_ and be stopped. a year, even in the air force, still seemed a mighty long time to wait. he found the civilian employment office for the white sands proving grounds, but it was not only closed, it being saturday afternoon, but there was a sign saying, _no help wanted_. that night he began to notice men in air force dress blues, others in gi khaki, and even some in ordinary olive-drab fatigues appearing in the streets. he realized it was saturday night and the streets were beginning to show the signs of life for the men's one night a week in town. ranchers were driving in, their cars lining the curbs. buses bearing the name of white sands would come in, unload their pleasure-hungry men, and park somewhere or else go back. white-capped mp's were appearing at corners to augment the local police. nevertheless, there was mighty little disturbance. there weren't the noisy carryings-on that usually marked towns near army bases when soldiers had a night off. these were picked men, and they behaved themselves. robin was not a drinker and not a roisterer, yet that evening he wondered if he oughtn't to have been. for if he could have learned to hang around some of the livelier bars, he might have been able to strike up conversations with the men of white sands. after a while, he did indeed enter one, sat nursing a lone beer while listening to the men. but they did not talk business. they talked the talk that soldiers on leave talk everywhere. their girl friends, their pals, their latest jokes, gossip, but never a word about rockets, never a word about satellites, never a whisper about their work. robin drifted with the crowd in the streets for several hours, finally again found another corner in a dim tavern where he sat, by this time a little tired, a little confused, wondering whether he had not made a mistake in coming here at all. the whole day had been frustration and his spirits were at low ebb. two men in fatigue denims were seated near him, arguing. one was plainly far gone under the influence of liquor. he was bleary-eyed, nodding and mumbling. the other, trying to hold him, shaking him, was actually almost as far gone. he was mumbling something about getting up and going; they had to make the last truck to camp. finally the two got up, staggered to the men's room, and disappeared inside. robin resumed his meditations, noting that the place was nearly empty now, that the streets were silent. obviously time had run out for the men, and they were on their way back to camp. suddenly it occurred to him that the two soldiers had failed to come out of the lavatory. robin slipped out of his seat, opened the door of the washroom, and went in. the two men were there, together on the floor, sound asleep. hastily robin knelt down, shook them. "wake up, you got to go back to camp!" he called. but he couldn't budge them. one mumbled something without opening his eyes, slumped back, and began to snore. the other didn't even respond that much. for a moment robin stood beside them, thinking that he ought to go and tell the proprietor. then he heard a voice call loudly outside in the bar: "any of youse guys going back tonight better step on it! bus's leaving in two minutes!" an mp rounding up the stragglers, robin thought. and in that moment, a sudden chill ran through him, a sudden wild thought leaped into his head. he stood transfixed for an instant. for an instant which seemed to last an eternity, an instant in which all his training, all his instincts and ambitions fought and struggled together in a mad hysteria. here was an opportunity, here was a chance--yet a trickery, an illegality. if he borrowed one of the unconscious men's jackets, borrowed his pass, he could ride back to white sands that very night, and in the dark and confusion, who would know? nobody, he felt sure. the next day--well, he'd be surely found, arrested. but--in the meantime, for a blessed hour or so, he would see the rockets in their gaunt glory, in their towering eminences, see an assault against the skies, watch the hissing blue flame ascend to the heavens, see a sight he would remember with joy the rest of his life. what then if he spent some bad hours under arrest? what even if he went to jail? actually what could they do to him? he was no spy, he was no saboteur. no matter how exhaustive the investigation, it would prove nothing evil against him. he remembered a sermon that had once been given at the orphanage. he remembered the minister dwelling on the opportunities of life. he remembered that which had sparked his imagination then, the minister's depiction of the various roads each man must choose. "there comes a time," the speaker had said, "in every man's life when various roads open out before him, each leading in a different direction. if, at that moment, he makes his choice, then his entire life may be forever set upon a channel, and the other possible lives will vanish." was not this then such a crossroads? robin could go back, be a factory hand, be a contented mechanic or carpenter, marry, settle down, and live his life without ever seeing rockets. or he could take the road that now, for a brief flicker, seemed open to him. he bent down, removed the khaki work jacket the smaller of the two men was wearing, shrugged his own shoulders into it, felt in its pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, glanced at it. _pass_, it read. _seven hours. red sands station._ he shoved it into his pocket, pushed open the washroom door, and walked rapidly to the street, his head down. as he emerged onto the street, he was grabbed roughly by an mp. "hurry, feller," the man said. "what station?" "red sands," muttered robin in a low voice, and was instantly whirled around bodily and given a push. "up the street and around the corner. the second bus. run!" robin broke into a run, dashed around the corner. in the darkened side street, three buses were warming up, the first already beginning to roll. robin ran for the second, and just as it was pulling away from the curb, several hands reached out of the door, took hold of robin's hands, and heaved him aboard. he found a seat in the back of the crowded bus, kept his head down to avoid having anybody realize he was a stranger, and caught his breath. the bus gathered speed, roared down the quiet side streets, and turned onto the highway beyond the town. robin was on his way to the rockets, to the famous white sands proving grounds ... or was he? what was the red sands station anyway? _red_ sands? why had he never heard of it? _3. up the space ladder_ the bus roared on through the night, its cargo of men now mainly silent, dozing as their vehicle jolted along. the moon, which was full, shed a pale glow over the desolate landscape through which the road ran straight as an arrow. the vehicle had departed from the main highway fairly soon after leaving town, and had gone along another leading out into the wastes which was the government reserve. robin had caught a momentary glimpse of floodlighted signs warning casual motorists against the use of the road, warning all that it was u.s. property. the men in the bus talked little. most of them tired, and some a little the worse for a night's revels, were sleeping. two or three snored away, unmindful of the hard seats and the jolting along the road. seated in the back, shoulder to shoulder with several others, robin kept quiet, watching the scene through the open windows and seeing what could be seen of the terrain without making his observations too obvious. thus far the landscape was the familiar desert of new mexico, desolate and arid flatland with which robin had become familiar on the trip down. on the horizon he could see the humps of mountains, the peaks that bordered the vast proving grounds. near him, a couple of soldiers were conversing in low tones and robin caught snatches of their conversation. at first it was mainly talk of what they had seen and done that night, their girl friends, and so on. by and by they began to talk a bit about their work. robin strained his ears. "i was thinking of asking for a transfer back to white sands," said one of the men slowly. "some of that new fuel they're bringing in makes me real uneasy." "ahh," said the other, "you're just letting that extra security talk give you nerves. sure, it's supposed to be atomic stuff, new, maybe even untested as far as i know, but, nuts, you can't get blown up any worse than you can handling that liquid oxygen and peroxide they got at white sands. in fact, i understand that this stuff isn't half as tricky to pour as the old stuff." "yeah, i know. i seen some of it being poured yesterday into that new big fellow they're lining up for tomorrow. but the point is that even if it's easier to pour--none of that fizzing and spitting you get when you leak a drop or two--it's atomic. that's the thing, atomic. what would happen if a white sands rocket blew ... it'd be a big bang, sure enough, but it wouldn't blow the whole countryside to bits. but take this new stuff ... whew ... we'd all be one bikini if it went off all at once." the other soldier was silent a moment. "well," he said finally, "could be. on the other hand, i heard them say that it is really not half as explosive as the old stuff. that loxygen they use in the original vikings is really dangerous, will go off quick at any spark. but this new stuff, it won't actually go off until it's touched off after the rocket has gone up a few miles. it's actually hard to blast--and then i understand they ain't sure it'll work." the other one nodded. "uh uh, so they say, but you notice where they moved our outfit, didn't you? they don't want to blow the main fields out of existence by accident, just in case they might be a little wrong. so they invented this red sands layout. i don't even like the name." the soldiers fell silent awhile. robin turned these words over carefully. he had read nothing of any red sands operation, and he remembered nothing of any talk about atomic fuels. in fact he'd understood that the problem was still one they had failed to solve--though the idea was intriguing. chemical fuels, he knew, had definitely limited drive capacities. the most powerful chemical fuels possible even theoretically were those already in use, and were basically merely liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen. and he knew that the main obstacle that always had to be faced by rocket engineers was the tremendous quantities and weights of the fuels to be burned in order to lift even a single pound of cargo. atomic power, if liberated, had on the other hand almost unlimited possibilities as fuel. a mere pound or so of atomically liberated material could probably drive a spaceship a million miles with a full pay load too. but how to combine atomic explosions with controlled rocket fire? the problem had never been answered--at least not in the magazine and newspaper stories he had ever read. he thought about it awhile. then the bus honked its horn. robin craned his neck, looked forward. he saw they were paralleling a high wire fence and coming to a lighted area. a large sign on a wide road entrance branching off caught his eye and he read the magic words, _white sands_. for a moment he thought the bus was going to enter as the driver slowed down. they came abreast of the gateway but the driver merely honked and waved and passed it by, robin catching a glimpse of whitewashed barracks and low hangarlike structures beyond the gate. then they roared on into the moonlit night, on toward the empty reaches of the desert where the mountains loomed dark in the horizon. where was red sands? how far? robin speculated on it. he had evidently hit on something more than he'd reckoned. this was a development unknown to the public. this was something that must have combined the special nature of the los alamos atomic testing grounds with the rocket grounds. and it was obviously tucked far away from them all. suppose they caught him there, would he get off as lightly as he might at white sands? where atomics was concerned, secrecy was still enforced, despite the release of much information due to the installation of peaceful atomic plants in various parts of the world. but everyone knew that the world was still merely at the threshold of atomic glories and the nations were still anxiously vying with each other for leadership. he supposed that perhaps he might be sent to jail. he might perhaps be confined to the red sands grounds until such time as what he was to learn had become public property. that might take years! robin squirmed a little as he thought over this possibility. it didn't appeal to him. yet, the die was cast and there was now little he could do about it. he could, he thought, surrender now to the men in the bus. in that way, he'd be stopped from entering the forbidden area at all and might then merely get a bawling out and be released. but something in him absolutely rebelled at the thought. this far he had gone, this far he had moved toward the realization of a dream that had held him from childhood. he would go on, and if he were to pay the penalties for trespassing, he would at least see what he was paying for. maybe, maybe, he would yet see a rocket go off. what was it the soldier had said, "that big fellow ... for tomorrow." then robin would be in time. the bus roared on for what seemed at least another hour. finally it approached another fenced-in area, slowed down, and came to a halt briefly before a guarded gateway. the men stirred in their seats, the sleepers were nudged awake, everyone started to squirm around. the driver exchanged a few words with the guards, the bus shifted gears, rolled slowly through the gate, and came to a stop. stiffly the men began to climb out. robin waited until about half the men had preceded him, then, keeping his head low, followed. as the men jumped down from the bus, they stepped up to an mp standing by and showed him their passes. he examined each with a flashlight, took it, and waved the men on. robin's feet hit the ground. carefully keeping close to the man in front of him, he dug for the pass he'd found in his borrowed jacket. holding it out, he stepped up to the guard. the pass was seized, scrutinized, and with a tap of the hand, robin was waved on. the men were striding off in the direction of a group of low, long buildings of the standard army barracks type. robin took the same general direction, casting his eyes about trying to estimate where he was and what was around. the moon was high and its light was strong in the clear desert air. a few dim bulbs showed on posts and one or two lights were flashed in the windows of the barracks. the men were heading directly for their beds--and robin knew he had to head in the same direction if he did not wish to incur suspicion. it was a ticklish moment, for he did not dare do anything to arouse the suspicion that he was a stranger here. it was a long walk across the parade grounds and he allowed as much space as possible to drag out between himself and the other men. he came closer to the dark barracks buildings, walked along toward a dark doorway through which another man had gone. turning his head he saw no one near him who might be watching, and robin stepped into the dark doorway, then quickly side-stepped, slipped around the side of the building, and walked silently down the dark space between the two adjoining barracks. at the far end of the structures, remaining hidden in the shadow cast by the moon, he looked outward. he could see, stretching out beyond, the level ground of the desert. he could make out the structures of what looked like hangars and machine shops, and he could see a number of vehicles, trucks, and odd cranes parked around. far away he caught a glimpse of something white. was it a rocket? he crouched in the shadow and waited. after a while he heard no more footsteps, he saw the last lights in the barracks flicker out and silence descend on the station. he glanced at his watch. it was about two in the morning. silently he moved out of the barracks' shadow, walked fast and softly to the shadow of the nearest truck. reaching it, he paused, looked back. nothing stirred. proceeding in that fashion, robin moved from shadow to shadow, keeping as little in the bright moonlight as he could. he reached a building, clearly a tool house. he walked along it, went on beyond, passed through the shadowed side of a long hangar, found a narrow roadway leading out to where the mysterious white object rested. he walked alongside it, half stooping, but feeling sure that no one had seen him. the red sands station was silent. the white object proved to be a good deal farther away than he'd thought. he knew that distances in the desert were very deceptive, felt himself growing tired. why, this objective might be two or three miles away, he realized now, but only increased his pace as if in answer to his tiring frame. the cold, dry desert air was bracing, and nothing moved save the occasional scurry of some tiny rat or lizard. what he had seen was indeed a rocket. it was at first a dot of white. then it grew into a line of white like a snowy tree. as he neared it he realized its true dimensions. it was a tall giant rocket, as tall as an eight-story building, long and slim, towering in the desert like an obelisk left by some aztec ruler. it was held by a framework of metal girders, like that of a newly completed building whose outer skeleton had not yet been dismantled. near it stood a truck on high, thick wheels which bore a long, cranelike apparatus resembling the tentacles of some weird monster-insect. the rocket stood with its four wide-flanged fins jutting out near the base. robin stopped at its base and stared up. he studied it, saw that it was apparently segmented, having lines of cleavage that divided it into four parts, the one at the pointed top being the shortest. this was a four-step rocket, he recognized, and knew at that moment that here also was a step beyond what the public knew. he walked slowly around it, awed and silent. he noticed now that there was a thin metal ladder running up the standing framework. the crane in the truck was for loading the top, he knew, but he could use this ladder himself to climb up without trying to start the truck-driven lift. he reached the bottom rung of the skeleton ladder, saw a sign attached to the framework. he looked at it, saw a number, apparently the code designation of this rocket. glancing over it, the moonlight was not strong enough to allow him to read the words. he looked at the parked truck with the crane, walked over to it, looked inside. he found a flashlight in the dashboard compartment, took it. lying over the seat was a pea jacket. the air was cold and would become colder. robin borrowed it, shrugged into it. he saw a package lying beneath it, lifted it. a couple of candy bars it was. the driver must have had a sweet tooth. robin stuffed the candy into the pocket of the jacket, which had other things in it as well. he returned to the rocket, read the work sheet by his flashlight. most of it was incomprehensible. he saw that the sheet referred only to the fueling. steps two, three, and four were fueled. step one, the big one at the base was still empty and he saw that it was marked for fueling by five that morning. firing time, he noted, was set for six. robin glanced up. here was a chance to examine the rocket completely. glancing around again, he swung up the ladder, started the climb. the rocket's sides were welded metal, shiny and painted white. the various fuel sections were numbered in large black letters and the contents listed. he saw that the first and main fuel chamber occupied half of the length. the three upper sections, already loaded, he remembered, were marked in liters. the name of the fuel was meaningless to him. it must be, he thought, the atomic stuff the soldier had mentioned. this rocket could be a huge atomic bomb, he thought, chilled for a moment. but he continued climbing. at the very tip, he saw that two small, circular doors, like the escape hatches of submarines, were set flush in the side. one was closed, the upper and larger one was slightly ajar. he reached it, looked in. he flashed his light, peered around. it was a narrow, closetlike space, filling a section of the uppermost tip, just beneath the point of the top. it was padded and empty. robin looked out from his perch at the top of the ladder. he looked away across the desert to the distant buildings of the red sands station. he started suddenly. something was blinking in the distance. he strained his eyes. two tiny white lights were moving toward him from far away. he heard the distant purr of a motor. a jeep was coming to the rocket from the red sands station. had they seen his flashlight? were they coming to investigate? he glanced desperately downward. the ground seemed so far away. he could never climb down the ladder in time to escape detection. the jeep was approaching swiftly. what could he do? in a flash of inspiration, he saw the open port of the dark closet-space at the rocket's tip. he climbed into it, swinging out from the ladder, hovering over the abyss, swinging his legs into the dark, padded interior. he crammed himself into it, found he fitted it neatly with very little room to spare and, grasping the circular door, pulled it toward him. it swung shut on its oiled hinges, clicked tightly into place. robin crouched down, silent. for a while there was dead silence. robin wondered if he would be able to hear anything that went on outside, considering the padding of the little space. for once he was thankful for being so short. if he'd been a few inches taller, he'd have found his position very uncomfortable. it was cramped, but not unbearable. he strained his ears, finally heard the vibrations of the jeep draw up to the base of the rocket and stop. he heard faint sounds which must have been the muffled voices of the jeep's riders. he lay quietly, hoping he would not be discovered. outside, the jeep had come to a stop and the two men in the front seat stared around suspiciously. "i'd have sworn i saw a light for a moment out here," said the driver. the other scratched his head, looked around. "i'd better get out and look around, just to be certain." they both descended from the jeep. one went over and looked into the trucks and carriers, peering under them for possible hideaways. the other poked around the scaffolding at the base of the rocket. "this is the one they're firing off tomorrow, isn't it?" he asked when the other joined him after a moment. "yeah," answered his companion, "or rather this morning. in fact in only a few hours. they've only got to load the main fuel chambers and they're ready." he shined his flashlight on the operations chart, the same one that robin had examined earlier. "i wonder how come they loaded the other three earlier. that's odd. i thought that stuff couldn't hang around too long." "don't you know," said the other, "this is that big top-secret experimental job they were working so fast on this week? something to do with a new kind of fuel, fairly stable but loaded with radioactive elements. some type of new compound which is supposed to add an atomic disintegration impetus when it goes off. heard one of the engineers explain it as something like plutonium particles in suspension which get touched off atomically as they emerge in the rocket blast. they don't know for sure it will work." the other looked up at the towering structure. "i guess that's how come they're sending it up first with the regular loxygen fuel--so if the whole thing goes bang at once, it'll be high enough up not to blow the rest of us to kingdom come." he walked around the base a bit, stopped, flashed his light down, and picked up something. it was a cardboard sign that had been lying on the ground. he looked at it a moment. "hey, this must have fallen from the cargo chamber," he said, showing his comrade the sign. it read: _instruments in place. do not disturb._ he turned it over. on the back it read: _ready for loading._ "i better put this back where it fell from," he said, adding, "but which side is correct? did you say they were firing it at six?" at his companion's assent, he said, "well, i guess maybe they must have loaded the cameras and radio equipment this afternoon. i'll go up, put this back, and check it." the man started up the ladder, the same one that robin had climbed a short while before. when he had arrived before the section where robin lay hidden, he tried the circular door of that section. it was tightly shut. this signified to him that it was already loaded and without further thought he carefully attached the little sign reading _do not disturb_ to the door. after a few more minutes' search, the two men climbed back in their jeep and drove back to the barracks-grounds. inside the rocket, robin had been unable to hear what they had been saying. their voices came to him heavily muffled and distorted and he could not recognize the words. he heard the man come up the scaffolding ladder and try the door. but it had been tight and it had not budged. then he'd gone down and a little later robin had heard the jeep drive away. robin lay there quietly on the soft padding and wondered how long he should stay in hiding. they might have left a man on guard or they might be keeping an eye on the rocket. if he came out right away, they might spot him. better wait here a half hour, he said to himself, and then tried to make himself more comfortable. the day had been a long one and a tense one. he was more tired than he'd thought. the tiny, cramped cubby-hole in the nose of the rocket was pitch-dark, cushioned, and utterly quiet. robin rested his eyes. before he knew it, he was sound asleep. the air was close and became stale; robin's slumber slowly became deep and drugged. * * * * * the sun rose at five and with it there arrived the men who would load and launch the rocket--several truckloads in fact, with a couple of tanks of fuel. the volatile liquids were readied for pouring into the tanks and chambers of the first and main firing section. the engineers arrived. they began to check the loads and the preparations. "the instruments in place?" asked major bronck, who was in charge of this operation. his assistant, a civilian engineer, glanced up the ladder. "according to the notice up there, they are. i don't remember seeing them installed myself, though. may have been done after we left yesterday." "who was in charge of them?" the major asked. "jackson, sir," the answer came, "but he hasn't been in camp today. must have been left overnight in town." the major frowned. "well, i don't see the instruments around so i guess he loaded them all right. sloppy way of doing things, though. i don't like it. in fact, i don't particularly like this whole job. it's too hasty, too irregular." the other smiled, shrugged. "can't help it. big rush orders from washington. they wouldn't even let us put this shot off till monday. had to get a fast test on this atomic fuel. i guess it's another of those things they think the russians are up to." "ahh, that's always an excuse for rushing. but i still say haste makes waste. well, anyway we've got our orders so off it goes this morning. trackers on the job?" "sure, they're right on it. but we've still got to load the animals. this is going to be a high flier and the space-medicine people want in on it. here's their stuff now." a light truck rolled up and two men came out carrying a crate. one of the automatic rolling cranes lifted them all up to the nose of the rocket. there, just below the instrument compartment, they opened another port and installed their burden, shutting the compartment again and sealing it. the major glanced at his watch, looked around. the main chamber was loaded, the tank had departed. at his order, the rolling scaffolding was swiftly detached and driven away. now the rocket stood alone on its own fins, pointing skyward into the pink and orange dawn, its side a dazzling white, its nose a bright red, each section banded in green. "how far do you think it will go?" the major asked his assistant. "anybody's guess," was the reply. "the fuel is untested and unpredictable. if this trick fuel fails to work, the whole thing will go up maybe six miles and then drop. if the atomic stuff turns into a bomb they'll hear the bang in las vegas. if it works as they expect, it might go up several hundred miles, maybe even more. it could make a better satellite rocket than the ones we've got up already. in fact that's what they're hoping. they think they may be able to make this the start of a real space-platform program--for once carrying a pay load up worth the carrying. but who knows?" the two climbed into a car and drove to where the concrete dugout was located. entering it they nodded to the communications men and other engineers already gathered. the major took his place at the firing panel. he looked at his timer, waited a few minutes. gradually the small talk ceased and a hush fell over the little guiding post. the major reached for the firing button. * * * * * back in the rocket, robin opened his eyes. the first thing he noticed when his head cleared from the grogginess of his deep sleep was a slight hissing noise somewhere below him. the air felt different in his little compartment. somewhere a thin stream of oxygen was escaping into the chamber. he twisted around, felt about with his hands, located it. there was a thin line of holes along the seam of the padding underneath him. now he heard other noises. below him, a faint chattering, a scolding, the sound of something scratching. he put his ear down near the hole from where the air was issuing and listened. yes, he thought to himself, animals. somebody put some animals in the space just below me. sounds like monkeys' chattering. must be where the air is coming from. he had a headache. bad air in here, he thought, and realized that had it not been for the animals being placed below him, he might have suffocated in that space. it was then that he fully realized what had happened--that he'd fallen asleep. the animals hadn't been there when he had first climbed in. so he must have slept for several hours at least. he squirmed around, reflecting on it, still not quite gathering his drugged wits together. that meant that the men must have arrived and started work on this rocket again. he thought this over, and a great uneasiness came over him. he strove to remember something urgent, something he knew he had to bring back to mind. something about five o'clock and six o'clock. loading time, launching time. yes! they were firing this rocket at six! but what time was it now? how long had he slept? he looked at the luminous dial of his watch but was chagrined to find it had run down and he'd forgotten to wind it. he glanced rapidly around his little space, wondering how he could find out whether it was already day. several glimpses of light hit his eyes. he saw that in three or four places there were tiny glass openings no larger than would admit a thick wire. he tried to look through one, but all he could see was blue sky. it was morning then. he strained his ears for outside noises, truck engines, men talking. but there was not a sound from outside. only the faint squeakings of the animals below him. he twisted around again to face the little round door. it was padded on the inside, it had no handle there, nothing to get a grip on. he scrabbled in the padding with his fingers, reached the rim, and tried to push. there was no give. it was airtight, automatically sealed. he pushed against it, wondered what to do. he squirmed around against the padding, lay back with his head against the cushioning on the opposite side, his back resting on the floor padding, and put his feet against the side of the little door. thus braced he was all set to shove the strength of his legs against the door in an effort to push it outward. he was about to do so when the rocket went off. _4. riding the atoms_ suddenly it felt as if a giant had placed his huge palm squarely on robin's chest and was pushing him down. as he tried to exert pressure against the door, the counter pressure of the invisible hand increased. for an instant robin was thunderstruck. had he suddenly become weak? what was this? his first emotion, that of amazement, changed in a split second to one of terror at his newly discovered weakness, and again from that to a feeling of stunned shock. there was no invisible hand! it was the rocket itself moving! without thinking, robin struggled to rise, but his muscles could not obey him. in the first seconds the pressure on him was mild, he might have been able to move if he'd given some extra effort. but by the time his astonishment had worn off, the pressure had climbed beyond the limitations of the cramped space and his young muscles. the rocket had started slowly as these great towering constructions do. the first blasts barely served to push it away from its launching guides. it seemed to tremble in every plate as if precariously perched upon the short, furious blast of yellow. then the fiery tail lengthened as the tall, thin metal body rose slowly, lifted like a thin white pencil on the roaring cataract of burning gases. now it was its own length from the ground, now pushing up faster, giving in split seconds the curious impression that it might topple over at any instant. but the steady rise gained in speed, the rocket pushed away from its burning tail ever faster, the fire turned from yellow to blue, and within a few more blinks of the eye it was hurtling into the sky, vanishing into a dot, and then was beyond sight. to robin it seemed again as if a giant hand were pressing down. he felt it spreading over his body, felt himself being pushed relentlessly by superior weight against the matting of the compartment floor. his head was thrust down as if by a giant forefinger of this invisible monster leaning over him. now it seemed as if the giant, in maniacal malice, was leaning his weight on his hand, pressing on robin, trying to shove him through the floor if possible. he gasped for breath, could barely catch it against the growing pressure on his chest. his eyes sank into their sockets and he tried to close them but found the effort too much. all about him there was a roaring sound, a humming and thrumming, and now began a thin, piercing whistling, which was the air outside rushing past. the whistle rapidly increased to an ear-splitting shriek, then vanished, leaving eddies of unheard auditory vibrations. robin tried to close his mouth, which had been forced open by the prying finger of pressure. he felt as if in another moment he must cave in, be squashed flat. his brain reeled dizzily, then suddenly a merciful blackness fell over him and he knew no more. at that very moment, though he could no longer sense it, there was a click, audible through the length of the vibrating column of metal, and the first section snapped off. its great fuel tanks, so full of volatile gases an instant before, had emptied themselves in a fury of chemical combustion. the automatic releases had loosened the whole bottom half, the main fuel section, thrust it into space to fall and shatter upon the desert miles below. at that same split second, another series of relays touched off the second firing section. the new firing tubes blasted into action. of a design different from those that preceded it, of a design new to the world of man, the experimental jet burst forth. for an instant it seemed as if the pressure had vanished in the rocket, for a split second the rocket stopped accelerating as it waited for the new impact. then like a blast of lightning newly released from a storm, a shot of energy flashed through the racing metal body. the giant hand came down on everything within it with a firmness and power not sensed before. there was a blast now emerging from the tail of the flying rocket something like that of an atomic bomb, but not quite. it was not an explosion, but an atomic reaction. it was a rocket flare of an intensity and heat beyond all the potential of mere chemical reactions. it was atomic fire, chained and harnessed to the tail of a rocket. the thin white pencil, reduced in length, raced on into the dark stratospheric sky. * * * * * back at red sands there was intense excitement in the control dugout. major bronck was racing around, anxiously yelling into telephones, watching the checkers, trying to keep track of everything happening at once. at first the ascent had been neat and according to routine. the crew in the dugout, the radar crew at the main camp, and the one co-operating with them from white sands itself were checking all right. then in an instant all three almost lost touch as their objective nearly swooped out of range. the trackers fought to get it back in focus, and one by one finally caught it again, farther and faster than they had planned for. "it's running wild!" was the way one startled crew chief told the major. "going up and out like crazy!" the crew on the tracking telescopes racing around the desert were calling in their story. visually they had lost it completely. they had gotten a nice set of telescopic photos of the first phase, then they had failed to adjust quickly enough to the unexpected second phase. now they were sweeping the sky desperately hoping to pick it up again, but without success. major bronck called for a check on the last and surest guide. among the instruments loaded in the nose of the rocket was a radio tone-signal sender. as a last resort, they should be able to pick up that signal from the rocket itself, confirm the story they were getting from their radar men. but the men at the radio listening posts reported no sound. and when the major asked if they had had it in the first place, the men admitted that they had not. there had never been any buzz on the ether from the rocket at all! at that moment, the main red sands camp got on the phone. a voice from the commander's office wanted to know why the instruments had not been loaded. it seems that the man responsible for them had just turned up at camp. jackson had reported his jacket stolen, his pass along with it. therefore the instruments for whose installation he had been charged with were still reposing in the camp! there had been a series of bungles, the major thought, as he tried to explain the situation. obviously the rocket had not been checked as it should have been. obviously whoever had calculated the course and power of the new fuels had erred very considerably. "but we've still got it on radar. yes, sir. we'll hold it. we'll definitely see where it comes down, sir." the major listened, white-faced, to the commander's angry spluttering. "yes, i know, sir. top-secret stuff. but even if it lands a thousand miles away, we'll know, we'll spot it. even if it managed to assume a satellite orbit, we could keep track of it. it's still going straight up. it might make an orbit. if it did, there'd be no chance of it coming down intact for foreign examination. it would probably circle the earth a few times in a wild ellipse and then burn up in the atmosphere. we won't lose it." but lose it they did. the radars held it for two hours more, until finally it was beyond even the limits of their extended capacities. it was going up, up, and out, and even at the last there was no sign of it slowing down enough to form an orbit. when they finally checked it off as permanently lost, they knew they had witnessed the dawn of a new era. this rocket had assumed and passed the escape velocity. it was headed out into the trackless bounds of outer space. it would never return to earth. there was even speculation that its last known course might intersect the moon's orbit. opinion in washington, after all the reports were in, was divided on that. but, in spite of the bungling, the rocket had proved a valuable point. from that day onward, rocketry in the united states took a new tack. robin carew was dreaming. he was falling down an elevator shaft, falling swiftly floor after floor. looking down at him from the space at the top of the high shaft was a gigantic face, leering at him while stretching a giant arm down the shaft trying to reach him. in his dream he had the curious mixed-up feeling of wishing the giant could catch him and stop his fall and at the same time being afraid that the giant might be successful and crush him in his huge fingers. he was falling, falling, and squirm as he might, the bottom of this terrible shaft was nowhere in sight. robin thrashed around, trying to grab a cable, trying to catch one of the innumerable doors as they rushed past. he banged his hand against one, grabbed tight, jerked. his eyes snapped open, his mind struggled to gain a grasp of where he was. nothing seemed to make sense. it was dark and he was bumping around in a tiny, tight space. yet somehow he couldn't get his feet down, he still was falling. suddenly he felt dizzy and then became aware of the aches all over his body. he stopped thrashing, let himself rest. he bumped against the tight side again, took the opportunity to stretch his body out straight and found he could not. he was touching both sides of the narrow space. his eyes found the space not entirely dark. a faint trace of light showed from a couple of spots somewhere in the dark enclosure. he realized where he was. he remembered now the take-off, the pressure. why, he thought with a shock, the rocket went off. and i'm in it! we must be falling back to the sands now. in a few minutes we'll crash and that will be the end. he waited awhile, expecting to be snuffed out at any instant. but there was nothing. just silence. and now a faint rustling sound where something was stirring and squeaking below him. the animals, he thought, are alive in the space below me. then it occurred to him that he was not falling back, but perhaps falling away. his mind, which had been numbed from the pain and pressure, began to reassemble what he knew about rockets. and consciously the thought formed--the sensation of free fall is the same as the sensation of weightlessness found in space rockets. he thought he was falling, but was it not just as likely that instead he was simply beyond gravity? he felt himself over for broken spots, but somehow miraculously he had not been damaged. his eyes burned and he supposed they were bloodshot. a smear of stickiness around his face convinced him he'd suffered a nosebleed. but otherwise he was sound. he patted the jacket he wore and his hand encountered the cylindrical hardness of the flashlight he'd borrowed from the supply truck. he took it out, snapped it on. the little padded compartment was the same, the door still tightly wedged. he turned the light carefully around it, saw that the faint break in the total darkness before had come from two tiny openings--glass insets. probably, he thought, the openings for the instruments, possibly the lens spots for cameras. he switched off his flashlight, put an eye to an opening. the spot of glass was thick but amazingly clear. he caught a glimpse of blue-black sky and a jagged line of misty gray and white, beneath which stretched the edge of a great brown-and-green bowl. he stared at it in puzzlement, watching it as it swung slowly away. he realized that the rocket had developed a slow spin, that his viewing spot would gradually circle the region around him. and he realized that the great brownish bowl was the earth. from the darkness of the sky he realized that he must already be high in the stratosphere, possibly well beyond it. from the curvature of the horizon, he must be far up, several hundred miles, he guessed. and he could see that the curvature was increasing as he watched. the rocket was still traveling upward, traveling at an immense rate of speed. its last rockets had blasted away and had left it with a heritage of unparalleled speed. robin screwed up his eyes again, mentally calculated. he revised his estimate of his height, doubled it, redoubled it. why, he might be a thousand miles up, two thousand, perhaps many times that! how fast was he traveling? he didn't know. he couldn't tell. he remembered the talk about atomic fuels he had overheard. could it be that the inventors had miscalculated? could it be that he was already in outer space, heading for the void, never to return to earth? he screwed his eye again to the outlet. in the short time since he'd first looked the sky had darkened. it was black, jet-black, and the stars were fiery points of white. the earth now seemed like a ball, a vast ball whose fringes glowed with the pale mistiness of a sun-lit blanket of air. but where he was there was no air. he was beyond any atmosphere. no whistling of atmospheric friction was present in the length of the silent rocket. and then a blinding white glow poked a piercing beam through the tiny eye-spot. it was the sun, unshielded, brilliant. in a moment the tiny ray vanished as the rocket continued its slow turning, but robin in that instant had come to realize what had happened. he was in outer space, beyond earth, never to return. he was the first man to reach that untracked void that bounded on all the stars and suns of a universe. he was the first--but who would ever know? who could ever hear of him, whose helpless body, imprisoned in its shining airtight shell, now seemed doomed to float unsuspected forever on the cosmic tides of interplanetary space? _5. fall without end_ for a moment robin felt dizzy again, and the falling sensation wracked him. it was the weightlessness, he knew. the sensation of being without weight was the same as that of being in free fall. and he was operating beyond the effects of gravity. somehow the atomic rocket fuels had been far greater or far more effective than the inventors had calculated. he knew that they had never intended this rocket to be shot beyond earth's grip--for if they had, they would not have loaded it with the test animals and they would not have placed a parachute-release arrangement in the nose. however, it now occurred to him he might be wrong about this. he had seen the reference to the parachute on the loading chart, and he now remembered lettering indicating parachute on the body of the rocket just above the little entryway to the topmost cargo compartment. still, perhaps there was no parachute there. he squirmed around again, trying to get used to the nauseating sensation of free fall. he felt as if he had to exert conscious effort to keep his stomach from turning inside out. he felt an impulse to scream, to thrash his hands, and he had to remind himself that it was an illusion. for a while he just rested, floating in the little space, bumping steadily against one wall or another, with barely inches to spare. the tiny burning sunbeam pierced through again and vanished. robin looked through the peephole. it was the dead black of outer space now, a black beyond conception, black with nothing in it to reflect. and against it an inconceivable array of brilliant points of light--the stars in numbers beyond any seen through the blanket of atmosphere. white, with some yellows and reds, and a few bluish ones here and there. the earth moved again into sight and it was distinctly smaller--though still an impressively vast bowl--but beginning distinctly to resemble a monstrous globe in bas-relief, breathtakingly impressive with its living face, its shifting misty veil of air and water vapor. robin became aware that he was thirsty. yes, and hungry too. he took stock of his situation. he felt through his pockets, came up with one of the candy bars he had taken. he hefted it thoughtfully. should he eat it now or save it? that raised the question he had been unconsciously avoiding. save it for what? if he was indeed heading for the boundless regions of space, then he was a doomed man. if he ate now, it would mean that starvation would come sooner. if he delayed, doled it to himself in small bits, it could only prolong the agony awhile, but would not the result still be the same? there was the chance, the odd chance, that the rocket somehow might yet return to earth. it might describe a circle, an arc, finally begin to fall back. if it did so, the parachute would operate and perhaps land robin in safety. somehow it didn't seem likely to robin, yet that chance existed. if so, it would have to return to earth before a full starvation period could result in death. robin had read somewhere that one could go without food for as much as thirty days, but without water for not more than seven or eight. if the rocket were describing an arc or a parabola, then it would surely start its return within less than that week's leeway. with this in mind, robin unwrapped the candy bar and ate it. the second one he would save as long as possible. but what about water? the squeaking of the test animals broke in on his thoughts. surely they must have been supplied with some sort of food for their flight? robin switched himself around to face the floor and began to dig at the padding there. he managed to loosen it, pull it to one side, revealing the floor of the compartment. as he had hoped, it was not a metal plate. his own chamber, the one for the instruments, was not a section in itself but only part of a section paneled off by braced plasterboard. and what was more there were already holes drilled through it so that the air in both sections would be equalized. this answered another question robin had been trying to avoid. how was it the air was remaining fresh now, though it had gone stale while he was hiding? apparently there was a small supply of oxygen operating automatically in the animal section that seeped through into the upper compartment too. evidently once the rocket went into flight this started to work and would continue for the originally calculated period. robin dug his fingers into the openings and pulled. gradually the plasterboard bent away and opened a space into the section below. he looked down, using his flashlight. there were two cages below, well padded. in one, two little brown monkeys clung together floating just above the floor and looking terrified. they chattered when they saw him, but remained tightly locked in each other's arms. in the other, four small rabbits were placidly nibbling bits of lettuce, although one rabbit was upside down, another sideways on the side of the cage. there were a couple of small boxes set in each cage, and robin could see that they dispensed food and water to the animals at presumably regular intervals. robin reached down next to the monkeys' cage and started to work loose the small water holder there. he found it slid out of place once he turned the holding bolt. as he drew the little flask upward, one of the monkeys made an effort to nip his finger, but he withdrew it in time. the water flask drawn up into robin's compartment made him feel better. this would make his stay a little more comfortable for a while. he felt sorry for the monkeys, who might go thirsty now, but he had a suspicion that the two little beasts were probably too hysterically frightened to eat or drink anyway. robin wet his throat a little. he looked back down, reached out, and investigated the food compartment. sure enough, there were several bananas in the monkeys' food container. they would do also. he glanced around the space below again. there were the oxygen tanks, set up with a timer, one gently hissing away. there also was a small heating unit with a thermostat that evidently kept the temperature in the animal division at a level--and almost certainly was doing the same for the whole section. robin grimaced to himself as he worked the padding back into place on the floor. he might manage to be quite comfortable for a while longer--a day or so more. while there's life, there's hope, he said to himself. better check the parachute question, too, while i'm at it. he reversed himself in a neatly executed weightless somersault and making what had once been his roof the floor, worked the padding out there. but here he was thwarted, for he found the rounded metal side of the section's nose. if there were a parachute, it obviously occupied its own compartment at the very tip of the rocket's nose. he looked out the peephole from his upside-down perch, stared musingly at the panoply of the stars. he wondered if he could recognize a planet should one swing across his narrow field of vision, decided that perhaps he might not be able to do so, so vast were the number of stars present. he looked again at earth, noticing that it had visibly rotated on its axis. that meant that time had passed, a good deal of it. mentally he tried to calculate just how much. he was looking at the eastern hemisphere now, or a corner of it. at least half a day, or maybe a day and a half, or more. how could he tell how long he had been asleep, how long unconscious? he realized that he was tired, that his body still ached from the painful take-off. he closed his eyes, and without actually wanting to, fell asleep. his sleeping body swung slowly to and fro in the tiny space, bumping gently from one side to the other. as he slept he dreamed of falling, dreamed of falling over huge endless cliffs, of dropping down strange chasms, of being carried by huge birds and suddenly being dropped. his subconscious mind would never give up the insistent awareness that his body was falling. it was a certain thing that such would be the dreams of anyone in space flight. the built-in machinery of self-protection identifies a sense of loss of weight with the automatic warning of a fall. ten thousand thousand generations of climb from primeval arboreal ancestry found the warning valid--no conscious knowledge otherwise would ever shut off this instinctive alarm. he awoke again with a start and a convulsive grasp for a tree branch. but he shook off the sensation and rubbed his eyes. he took another sip from the water flask, reached into the compartment below and took one of the bananas. the monkeys were still in each other's arms, but now asleep. the rabbits were nosing the corners of their cage as if everything were perfectly normal. he looked through his peephole and saw the moon. it was large, it was vast, it took up most of the view in his range. it looked as close as the earth had looked before. he looked upon the stupendous moonscape with awe. it was the vision one strains to see through a telescope. he had often paid a dime to look at it through the six-inch telescope at the city science museum. this was the same vision, but bigger and clearer, so very, very clear. he could see only a small section of the moon, but that was impressive. a particularly rugged area of jagged mountains, huge craters, high walled and wide bottomed, with long rills and ridges running across the surfaces. it shone white under the sun, with immensely black shadows breaking it where the sun failed to penetrate. yet there were more than whites and grays and blacks here. he saw that without the atmosphere of earth there were other more delicate shadings. the sides of some mountains had bluish and greenish tinges, and more than one crater bottom showed a distinct faint tinge of pale green, or in other spots yellowish blotches. and in one small spot he distinctly saw a mistiness of the surface, saw that a faint fuzziness barred the clear sight of the crater bottom. he stared with wonder at the sight and the moon slowly turned out of his vision as the rocket turned. he looked away, deep in thought. he had read enough about the moon in his astronomical readings. he knew the various theories, the latest conjectures. he knew that mistiness, that evidences of clouding had been seen often by astronomers, but the sight was nevertheless rare. no two astronomers ever happened to be looking at the same place at the same time. it was always one man's word, and it was never possible to predict such a thing, nor to photograph it. he knew that those men who made a special study of the moon recognized these things and had come to accept them as evidence that what was once regarded as a dead world was not entirely dead. they had charted these color shifts in certain spots, one or two areas could be predicted well enough to occasionally be provable to others. pickering had seen many such color changes, had even attributed it to some sort of fast-growing vegetation. robin remembered that it was now largely believed that the moon had not quite ceased its volcanic internal action. he recalled that astronomers had begun to admit that the evidence of these bits of mist and the further evidence of actual mapped changes in the lunar topography had proved that something was still warm and boiling within the crust of old luna. then it occurred to robin that if the moon were that close to him, he might really be falling upon it! he peered out, saw again a section of luna in view. it was close. evidently the nose of the rocket had indeed been propelled far beyond earth's atmosphere, beyond its gravitational grip. if the moon had been elsewhere, perhaps the rocket nose would have swung about and eventually returned to fall upon the earth, as robin had originally surmised. but by chance his orbit, that of the rocket nose in free space, had cut too close to the body of the moon. the rocket was dangerously near to being seized in the grip of the moon's gravity and pulled down to it. robin mulled this thought over and realized that it was possibly the truth. he glued his eye to the peephole and tried to determine where he was. after a while, he saw that the moon was gradually increasing in size. the rocket nose was definitely approaching the lunar sphere. because the earth no longer swung into view, robin also realized that the rocket nose must have reversed itself, must be heading moonward, must be falling to the moon! it would fall faster and faster now, as its trip through space was ending. it was held in the grip of a new world and would speed to its final destruction like a meteoric bullet. it would be another meteor blasting into the surface to flash instantly into powder! _6. target: luna_ now that robin recognized the certainty that he would never return, that he was a doomed man, a curious sort of change came over him. up to this time, he had been carefully suppressing his inner thoughts, comforting himself with the hope that the trip would somehow end up safely. yet while his mind was dwelling on that thought to the exclusion of others, his nerves had been under tension. he had felt himself continually on the edge of breakdown, in proximity to screaming. but robin had been trained well. his life had never been a particularly easy one and the crying had almost certainly got out of his system during the days when as a little boy he had wandered through a war-torn land hungry and homeless. life in an orphanage, at best, lacks much of the careful comforts of parents' hands, and those who had come out of such upbringing learn strong self-control early, learn to hold their jumping nerves in check at moments of tension and crisis. now that the conscious realization that a crash into the moon was inevitable had forced itself into acceptance, robin felt a slipping away of this tension. the die had been cast, the doubt had been removed. he actually felt an easing of his mind, felt himself able to take cooler estimate of his situation. he curled himself up in his narrow, closetlike space as comfortably as possible and thought the matter over. he was hungry again and still thirsty and this time he ate the second candy bar without saving any. at the rate of speed he was traveling, it could not be many hours more before he flashed to a sudden, fiery, meteoric death. he turned that thought over in his mind, while he drank some more water. a meteoric end, he thought, to flash like a blazing firebolt, to crash with the violence of an explosion against the dry, dusty surface of the moon. it might have been spectacular to observe, but he would never know. he wondered if it would be seen from the earth. suddenly, like an automatic switch being thrown on an electronic relay, a memory shot into his thoughts. he was well-read in astronomy, particularly on the subject of the moon, and the thought that struck him was this: _astronomers did not see meteors crash into the moon!_ they just didn't! and moon observation under powerful telescopes was most exact; if even fair-sized meteors hit the moon with the same explosive impact that they hit earth, they would be seen beyond question. further, since the moon was a companion of the earth, and our home planet was bombarded with countless meteors daily, the moon must be a target of a like number. of course, the meteors that hit earth were almost entirely burned up by atmospheric friction long before reaching the surface. but the moon apparently had no atmosphere ... there should have been nothing to prevent them from constantly battering the face of the moon in a continuous, heavy rain of iron and rock. lunar meteors should be visible all the time. but they were not! so ... what would really happen when his rocket hit the moon? robin was tingling with strange excitement. facing death as he was, he knew that even at the moment of dying he would be rewarded with at least one secret of the universe now unknown to men. what was the secret? he wracked his brain trying to bring back to memory all that he had read on that problem. and he brought back the memory that during the past few years a growing number of astronomers had begun to believe that the moon was not entirely without an atmosphere. it wasn't believed to have much of one, but it had been pointed out that most meteors to hit earth burn up at least thirty miles high. and the atmosphere at that height on earth was very, very thin. so thin indeed that if the moon had a belt of air only that dense, it might not be particularly detectable from earth, might not make much difference from the surface--it was almost a vacuum so far as living matter would be concerned--but it would suffice to burn up meteors! so it seemed likely that his rocket nose would be heated to incandescence by the tenuous lunar atmosphere and burn to ash long before it touched the surface.... it wasn't a comforting thought--he rather preferred the original conception of crashing. robin smiled grimly to himself. a dismal prospect, indeed. he had somehow cherished the hope that at least some wreckage of his rocket would be scattered about the surface, to be discovered some day by the explorers of the future, perhaps hundreds of years later. they would speculate upon it, perhaps trace it and in that way know that one robin carew had, in death, been the first to reach the moon. but to burn up on high, even that faint honor would be denied him! he looked again through the peephole. the moon was close now, very close. he looked down upon a heaving and fearful view--a vast sea of glistening white, with streaks and patches of gray, and here and there great gaping clefts of black. huge ringed craters, their saw-toothed mountain walls soaring into the sky--and craters upon craters, big ones and little ones, broken ones, craters breaking into the boundaries of others, little ones dotting the bottom of big ones, cracks and clefts shooting from their bases; a ring of jagged mountains running across the moonscape; areas of apparently flat plains. the sun was directly overhead, for it was still full moon and the glare was great, the shadows that mark the setting or rising of a lunar day not too obvious, stunted patches of jet blackness. but the moon was not entirely whites and grays, for indeed it was gently tinted in spots with other colorations. he could see for himself that there were greenish tints in some flat spots, yellowish and purpling areas. and yes, there was even in one tiny patch in a crater floor a faint cloudy mass, a mere haziness that indicated some sort of gaseous mist. robin drank in the scene, the view of another world, that world which has dazzled the dreamers of earth for thousands of years. these might be his last moments, but he could not be denied the saturation of his senses. the rocket was fast heading down toward a point near the center. the moon was spreading out, filling the view, and the rocket's slow rotation no longer brought anything into view but moonscape, a constant shifting view, with wonders upon wonders moving into his eye's scope. robin drew back a moment, rubbed his arms, scratched his legs. he felt himself tingling, wondered if it were his nerves. he felt itchy, hoped his nerves would not give way. he thought to himself, i may have only minutes now. i shall watch till the end. then he heard a faint, faint noise. from somewhere there was a humming. the merest shadow of a hum, and robin listened to it, startled. the humming rose in pitch, it was no dream, and as he sat, mouth open, amazed, there was a thin, high-pitched screaming outside the rocket and he suddenly began to feel hot. robin had but a second in which to think to himself, there's an atmosphere and we're burning up, when there came a new sound. a sort of _bloop_ from over his head, a snapping noise, and something seemed to grab the rocket and jerk it upside down violently. robin was tossed in a sharp somersault, banging against the original floor of his compartment in a jumble of arms and legs. he sat up and realized that he was sitting--not floating--but actually sitting _against gravity's pull_! he scrambled onto his knees, peeped through his peephole. the sky was back in view, the moon was below the falling ship and he could see the edge of a huge, circular orange mass above him, straining and pulling. it was the parachute from the nose of the rocket. it was the orange parachute designed to land the instrument nose and the test animals safely in the new mexico desert. and it had been set to open automatically upon the pressure of air when falling. there was an atmosphere around the moon then ... a thin, thin one, but the delicate detonator of the chute had functioned. the great hemispheric mass of delicate nylon had opened, had found a purchase, and was dragging the rocket back from a disastrous burn-out. robin breathed a sigh of relief, strained his eyes to see the moonscape again. the rocket was still falling, mighty fast it seemed. he could see the moonscape rise out, expand to fill the view. the rocket was warm now, definitely still heating from the thin friction. it vibrated and whistled but it swung in no breeze. it was moving too fast. in that almost unnoticeable belt of tenuous air there would be no winds that could deflect it. the parachute was open, but the air was not thick enough to do more than slow it down too gradually for it to be saved. it would, he realized, still crash into the surface with a deadly force. it would hit like a shell from a cannon, and the explorers of the far future would have their mysterious fragments of tooled metal to speculate on. below him robin saw the jagged mountain peaks reaching up for him into the dark black sky. he scanned it, remembering his moon books, remembering the cold photos taken by distant terrestrial cameras and the careful diagrams and names given by men long dead. he was hitting near the center of the moon, a little above it, and the crater whose walls were reaching up ... why he could even name it. he grinned wryly. it would be theophilus, and it seemed he would miss it, hit somewhere near it in a bay of the so-called sea of tranquillity. rushing up toward him, theophilus was no peaceful greek ancient. it was a barren, toothed, rocky edge, miles up, without the snow that makes our mountains majestic, without a trace of the forests that conceal a mountain's jagged sides, without even the gentle weathering of rain and water. and the sea of tranquillity--a dark, wrinkled plain that looked as if it had gone through the agonies of torture ages past. the marks of almost-vanished volcanoes on it, pale circular rings like pocks of burst bubbles, rambling ridges, and ugly cracks, and here and there domes rising gray out of the surface, like the tops of giant bubbles working their way out of the dry and flaky crust. robin watched in dread fascination. he heard the whistling and shrieking of the rocket like a demon in torment. he himself was burning and itching as he was being baked, although he felt no fever. the rocket was warm but getting no warmer. the topmost peak of theophilus was rushing up into his sky like a fast-growing stone geyser. he watched it shoot up, saw it grow, saw the ground become clearer and clearer, each ghastly detail spreading out, assuming three-dimension reality. now the peak was on a level with his eyes, now it was beyond him, and he was in the last few seconds of his fall. the rocket seemed to be slowing slightly. the atmosphere was possibly getting a trifle thicker at the surface, enough to prolong the agony a minute or two or three longer. above him the parachute strained and twisted. but still the rocket was falling too fast. it rushed down, straining to complete its act of affinity with a new gravity, as if tired of its brief period of interplanetary freedom, and anxious to pledge allegiance to a new gravitational master. below, the moonscape was coming up fast. robin could see well enough to begin to speculate where exactly he would hit. there was a small circle that must have been a crater scar. there were several dark lines that might be a network of cracks. and there was a dome. he remembered those domes. they had been quite a recent discovery too. not easily seen until latter-day instruments showed the surface of the moon dotted with these odd bumps. their nature was still a mystery. it looked as if robin would find out the hard way what their construction was. for now he was clearly heading directly for the center of the one below him. a bubble-top pushing out from the plain, hard and shiny like lava, glistening in the sun against the gray and dusty surface of the plain around it. theophilus's wall was already on the horizon, high and towering. and now robin realized how terribly fast the rocket was still falling. the mountain was a measuring stick and it was fearful. there was a moment of dreadful suspense as the rocket raced to a bull's eye on the upthrust center of the dome. the rounded surface rushed up. robin flattened himself against the padding, clutched his head in his hands, and stiffened himself. the rocket hummed against the thin air, it vibrated against the parachute, there was a terrible split second of shock when the bullet-shaped structure of the rocket's cargo nose made its contact with its lunar target, and then a clap of sound in robin's ear like a blockbuster going off. _7. the honeycomb place_ robin had no time to wonder why he had not been instantly killed by the crash, because the explosion on hitting the surface of the dome was followed instantly by a tremendous roaring sound that surrounded the entire rocket nose. this was in turn accompanied by a powerful pressure on the rocket, which threw robin against the nose-end cushioning and held him there. the pressure was not steady, changing as the roaring itself changed, with sudden bursts of sound, convulsive shoves, and changes in pitch. the rocket was being slowed by a terrific outward burst of gases, gases that must have been imprisoned in a huge volcanic bubble whose outermost surface was the dome, so mysterious to terrestrial observers. by bursting through the thin lava shell, robin's rocket had released these pent-up gases and was boring its way down on its still rapid momentum against the pressure of this column of gas. robin did not know this at the time, though he figured it out later. at the time, he had all he could do to keep himself from being battered black-and-blue by the jolting rocket. he kept his head clutched tightly in his arms, rode with the bumps and roars, and tried to keep his breath from being knocked out of his lungs. there was another violent shock and crack and again the rocket bounced to a new flow of gases. it had slammed through one huge bubble, breaking through the bottom shell only to burst into a lower pocket of gas. the roaring subsided to a lower pitch as the new gases did not find the near-vacuum of the surface that the first gas bubble had opened upon. the rocket fell steadily, bursting through a third, and then a fourth such bubble. it was clear that the surface of the moon, at least in that area, was a mass of congealed gas pockets, a honeycomb of thin-walled lava bubbles, perhaps quite deep. the rocket was almost entirely devoid of its original space momentum by the time it hit the bottom of the last bubble, snapped the thin crust, and fell through it. this time there was a sudden hissing around the battered nose and a warmth began to flow through the body of the rocket. it was enveloped in a belt of hot steam through which it fell several hundred feet and then hit something with a loud splashing noise. the sound vanished as the rocket sank deep into the new substance, came to a halt, and bobbed back upward. robin had gotten hold of himself after the third bubble and was hanging on, mentally trying to estimate what had happened. this last sound had been familiar. it must have been water, and the bobbing back of the rocket to the surface confirmed his views. he felt the rocket bounce a couple of times and then subside to a gentle rocking and rolling. robin held on for a moment, getting his balance. in some ways the new motion was more disturbing than all that had gone before--the cylindrical body of the rocket, with its blunt end and its rounded nose, was twisting and turning as only can be done by a bottle tossed in a flowing stream. robin tried to get hold of himself, orient himself to the odd seasick motion, then managed to work his way to the peephole. he could see nothing. whatever was outside was without light. but it sounded like water lapping against the sides, it felt like water's forces, and the rocket seemed definitely to be afloat. robin used his flashlight, tried to direct its beam through the tiny camera outlet. after a little manipulation he succeeded in getting some reflection from outside. it was water, and the rocket seemed to be floating rapidly along on some sort of dark subterraneous tide. robin sat back, puzzled. water--under the moon? he held on, still feeling a little dizzy, feeling dirty and itchy, but suddenly beneath it all a little thrilled and pleased. he had survived the crash by some miracle--he was on the moon and alive! what next? next was quick to come. there was a sudden dip in the current and the rocket tilted forward as it shot down a spillway, down a violent decline on a raging torrent, sliding down an unseen waterfall for a surprisingly long time, leveling out at a fast clip, sliding down new tunnels through which the water raced, hitting the side of sharp turns with occasional glancing blows, down more dips and falls, spinning violently around in unseen whirlpools, and finally racing out on a fast stream to gradually slow down and finally come to rest, gently bobbing. robin had been knocked around during this breathless ride and only gradually did he realize it was over. warily he raised his head from where he was sprawled in his tiny closet-compartment and waited. but the gentle bobbing continued. he put his eye to the peephole and looked. there was a glow outside, a grayish, pale glow, but he could see that the nose of the rocket was somehow grounded on something dry while the tail was still in the water rocking to the current. he considered his next course of action for a few seconds. it seemed as if he had a chance to escape from his vehicle at last. but escape to what? was there air outside, wherever it was that he found himself? if there were air, was it enough to sustain him? might it not be poisonous or utterly lacking in oxygen? well, robin thought to himself, there isn't really any choice. if i stay here, i'll starve to death or suffocate. if i go out, i may die even sooner. but now or later, if it has to be, it won't make any difference. whatever the odds in favor of my being able to breathe here, i've got to take them. he twisted around, found the circular port through which he had originally entered the rocket. he worked at it with his fingers, realizing that it might be quite difficult to open. he worked away the padding that lined the interior, found that it had an arrangement that had automatically sealed it when closed. there was no handle on the inside, for it had never been planned to be opened from that side. however, there were several screws over a small plate, and robin set to work to unscrew them. he had a boy scout knife in his pants pocket--the kind with several blades--and with the back of the biggest blade he worked out the screws. the panel off, he saw how the sealed gimbals worked, clicked them open and pushed open the door. it held tight for a moment, then popped open. there was a sudden drop in the pressure, robin's ears popped, and he gasped for breath. the air outside was lower in pressure than that inside the cargo nose of the rocket, which had been sealed at earth level. but it was air and it was breathable. robin drew in several deep lungfuls, savoring it. it was oddly exhilarating, as if highly charged with oxygen. at the same time there was a smell of mold and dampness and a definite taste of sulfur and phosphorus like that just after a kitchen match has been lighted. even so, the air was breathable. robin worked his head and shoulders through the narrow opening, slid forward and landed on hands and knees on the rocky surface. he got to his feet, looked around. he was standing on the bank of a rushing stream of water, which was pouring out of a large gap in the side of a cliff. the cliff ran straight up, gently curving to form part of the ceiling several hundred feet overhead. the extent of this ceiling was impossible to determine--it was dark and obscure--but it seemed to robin almost at once that he was in some sort of gigantic enclosed space--a vast cavern beneath the surface of the moon, probably several miles beneath it. the water coming from the underground falls rushed out to form a wide, shallow river which flowed along one side of the cavern and widened out to a few hundred feet clear across to the farther wall. on robin's side the floor of the cavern rose in a slow slope until it reached its wall perhaps three hundred feet away. robin could not estimate the length of the cavern. looking along the river bank, the cave seemed to become veiled in a general mistiness and gathering darkness. the light itself came from no definite source, but seemed to emanate from the rocky walls and ceiling, from the clayey ground, and from the general atmosphere. robin supposed that the source was a natural phosphorescence which he knew was not too uncommon even in terrestrial caverns. all around on the soil bordering the flowing water was a forest, a forest with the weirdest vegetation robin had ever seen. plants growing in clumps and clusters, plants whose large treelike stalks resembled a whitish-blue bamboo, and which burst into globular blue bulbs which seemed to serve as leaves. among these tree-sized growths was a rich undergrowth of tight balls of varying yellow and green and purple, growing like thick, squat mushrooms. and everywhere else a thick, lush carpet of green, not grasslike but rather like some oversize moss. in this forest there were no sounds of birds or animals, but only that of plants swaying in the river breeze, the rushing of the waters, and from somewhere distant in the unseen end of the cavern a strange, steady hissing sound. the rocket, or what was left of it, lay wedged against a section of the bank, its nose up and its tail swaying in the current. robin looked at it, amazed to find it so small. all that was left of the rocket was the cargo nose, which was the only part sent off after the last of the rocket sections had discharged their forces and been dropped off. the whole affair was not more than about ten feet long, from the battered, blunted red nose, from which several long, straggling orange cords hung--all that was left of the parachute and its attachments--down to the scraped and battered white cylinder that was the cargo compartment. the compartment ended in a flat plate which bore only a few wires that had once connected it with the break-away mechanism of the last of the atomic blasting chambers. this alone was the load of the eight-story tower of energy which had been the red sands experimental rocket. robin, without further delay, bent down to the cylinder and began to haul and push it entirely out of the water to the dry ground. he knew he could not afford to risk its loss. to his surprise, moving the rocket head was an easy task. it was extremely light and he found himself possessed of tremendous strength, tired and bruised and sore as he was. it was, he thought, as he pulled the rocket along, the moon and its weak gravity. he would only weigh a sixth of his earth weight here, so would the cargo head, yet he would have the muscles necessary for much more than that weight. he would literally be a superman here--if he could survive. survival, he knew, would be the question. he didn't know whether even now he might be inhaling poison from the strange, thin sublunar air. he didn't know what mysterious radioactive rays might be bathing him with their baleful influence. he didn't know whether any of the vegetation in this cavern world would be edible. having brought the cargo cylinder to a safe spot many feet from the water, robin looked for the door that would open the animal compartment. he found it, forced it open. inside were the two cages. gently he reached in, unscrewed them from their holdings, and lifted them out. one of the monkeys was dead, probably killed by some of the jouncing the rocket had taken. the other, looking miserable, was clinging to the bars chattering. robin looked at it, and the monkey looked back. the young man unlatched the cage, reached in, and took the little brown animal by the back of the neck. but the monkey made no effort to bite. instead, it twisted around, grabbed robin's arm, and hung tight. when his grip was released, the monkey scurried up robin's arm and clung to his shoulder, recognizing the need for companionship after its frightening experiences. the rabbits had fared slightly better. one of them was dead, but the other three, while somewhat beaten around, were alive and sniffling their pink noses. robin saw that there was very little food or water left for the animals. here then was the means to test the moon's capacity to produce food and drink. first, however, robin decided he would build a pen for the rabbits. if he were lucky, he could breed them and have at least one source of food suited to his system. he went over to the nearest clump of ball-trees, looked them over, tested his strength on them. they broke easily and quickly when he grasped one by the trunk and pulled. he found that it could be splintered into shreds fairly rapidly and that inside the shell of the stalk was a mass of cottony matter. he shredded a number of the stalks, and then staked them out in the ground to make a small fenced pen, tying the whole together with one of the long cords hanging from the parachute nose. into this makeshift pen, he released the three rabbits. he filled the cup from their cage with water from the river, placed it in the pen. the rabbits hopped over, sniffed, and drank. they seemed to suffer no ill effects. robin broke open one of the ball-like growths from the tree, found it contained a substance resembling a combination of melon and potato. he offered some of this to the rabbits and after an interval they ate it and seemed to like it. the monkey was chattering away as robin did this and suddenly scampered down and snatched a piece of the ball-food, stuffing it into its mouth. robin had not wanted to use the little creature for a test but the damage was done. however, the monkey seemed to enjoy it. robin sat down on the ground and watched. he felt tired, now realized just how tired he was, how sorely he ached from his experience. he felt warm and headachy now that the strain was over. he knew he still had things to do. he wanted to try to make a fire and cook the rabbit that had been killed. he was thirsty as well. he wanted to tie a cord to the monkey so that the animal would not run away into the unknown and possibly dangerous regions of the cavern. he wanted to find a safe place to sleep and hide should there be some sort of animal life around. but he was growing terribly sleepy and feeling quite sick. he curled up, and before he could stop himself, he was asleep. the rabbits nibbled on. the monkey sat on a ball in one of the strange trees and watched in silence. far off, somewhere in the cavern, the mysterious hissing continued. _8. robinson crusoe carew_ when robin carew opened his eyes, he knew he was a very sick man. he felt warm, sticky, and he hurt all over. he tried to sit up, but everything spun dizzily around him. his arms, legs, and body were burning intolerably and there was an itch throughout him that he could do nothing about. he lay back, trying to gain strength. a little later he managed to crawl to the water's edge, fill the container he had used in the trip from earth, drag himself back. for a period whose length he could not determine he lay helpless in fever and pain, arousing himself only long enough to drink to soothe his tortured body. finally, the fever broke. he sat up, feeling weak but with his mind clear at long last. he dragged himself to his feet, blessing the light gravity, aware that if he were back home his body would not have responded. he felt that he was gaunt, he knew he had been through a terrible siege, and he could only guess at the time he had lain there, tossing about on the strange lunar ground, unprotected in the queer climate of this unknown cavern. it must, he felt, have been days--earth days, of course--that his attack had lasted. later on he decided that he had suffered from a severe case of space burn. having traveled through the emptiness of the void between the planets, the vessel had been nearly unprotected from the cosmic rays and the more penetrating of the sun's invisible rays. he considered himself lucky to have survived at all. he desperately needed food now to rebuild his body. he looked at the rabbit pen. the little animals were there and evidently prospering on the ball-food he had prepared for them before his sickness. it was almost all gone and he broke open and pared more at once. he wondered how long it would be before the animals bred--he knew that rabbits bred fast and abundantly, and hoped it would hold true on the moon. there was a sudden chattering in one of the strange trees and he looked up to see a little brown face peering at him. in a moment, the monkey leaped to the ground, then leaped in one tremendous jump to robin's shoulder and perched there happy at finding companionship again. the monkey looked none the worse for its experience and evidently was getting along nicely on the lunar vegetation. thus encouraged, robin fed himself, first carefully testing everything on the monkey, who objected to nothing. but somehow the food was not entirely satisfying to the man, who felt that he needed more than that to recover his full energy. he looked again at the rabbits, looked also for the carcass of the dead one. but he found that part of it had rotted and part had been consumed. he looked closely and saw his first glimpse of a lunar counterpart to animal life. there were many tiny creatures, a half inch to an inch in length, looking at first like ants but on closer inspection appearing more like three-segmented worms, for they lacked legs and moved in an inchworm's fashion. instead of antennae, each little worm-ant had on its front segment a single upstanding stalk ending in a little yellow ball. robin touched one of these and it glowed momentarily. an organ of light, he thought, something like the ones carried by deep-sea fishes. the tiny things were eating the dead rabbit. robbin went back and examined the three remaining rabbits. two were males and the female was evidently heavy with young. well, he could afford to dispense with one of the males, then, for he knew his body needed meat. he put the rabbit back though, realizing that first he must make a fire and determine how to cook his meal. he searched his pockets. he was wearing the gi jacket he'd taken from the soldier in las cruces. as he had hoped, he dug up a pack of matches in one pocket. he turned it over in thought. when this pack was used up, how could he make fire? he piled some trunks of dead tree stalks in a cleared spot; he lit them with one of his matches. they caught fire rapidly and soon he had a nice blaze going. he watched the smoke rise and saw that it drifted rapidly away in the same direction the current was flowing--evidence of more caverns somewhere beyond. he opened his scout knife, hesitated. he'd never cooked a rabbit before. in fact, he'd never had occasion to cook anything for himself. it was meat, he thought, and even if it were eaten raw--well, savages did, so he, too, could manage. he thought about boiling it in water, then realized that the light air pressure might allow water to boil without getting the necessary cooking effects. the best method therefore was to fry it where he could observe the progress. steeling himself, he seized the rabbit, killed and skinned it, the latter a process which he found thoroughly unpleasant. cleaning it of its entrails, another unpleasant task, he cut the meat up into sizable chunks, skewered a couple of pieces on a metal rod which had been part of one of the cages from the rocket, and sat down to cook it over the open fire. it turned out to be a longer job than he'd thought, and he burned the meat quite thoroughly in the process, but finally he made it edible and chewed it slowly. he needed salt, he realized, and wondered if he could find any. this would have priority when he began his explorations. he hung the balance of the meat on a ball-tree with a piece of cord. he had seen no evidence of flying insects or creatures, and hoped thereby to be able to preserve the rest of the meat. thus fed, he sat down and began to map out his course. i must do things systematically, he told himself. i must keep track of time, set up a regular pattern of living, find a permanent base of operations. i shall have to explore this cavern and those beyond it, find all possible enemies and invent ways and means of defending myself. i shall have to breed my rabbits in quantity, find a way of using their pelts and fur. i shall have to determine a use for everything left from the rocket's material--metals and the like. for, he continued telling himself, my one aim shall be to stay alive long enough to be found some day by exploring rockets from earth. i am a robinson crusoe of a new world. crusoe waited twenty-eight years for rescue, i must be as courageous. in his case, he had no evidence that any ship would ever bother to call on him. in my case i know that rockets are being made that will eventually lead to further moon trips. i know that men are planning to come here. i must wait it out, even for twenty-eight years. but it was not that simple and he knew it. but first things first, and the first task was to survive. with the monkey scampering on ahead, he set out to walk to the cavern wall. he found it to be dark and glistening, a lavalike sheet resembling the bubble it was. leaning against it and looking upward, he saw that it curved gradually up, and that indeed he was in a flaw within a very porous world. like the inside of a clark candy bar, he thought, with a wry smile. astronomers on earth had always been puzzled by the lightness of the moon. they had speculated on it as being mainly pumice. lately there had been much speculation and opinion holding forth the theory that the moon was porous, had these bubbles and air pockets all through it, that the moon's water and atmosphere had all gone underground to be sealed off in these hollow spaces. he now knew they were right. most of these moon bubbles, large enough to hold cities, must be entirely sealed off. but others were linked, sometimes broken into by quakes or the volcanic action which was still going on in the depths of what had once been considered a dead world. this particular cavern was such a bubble. robin walked along the outer wall and saw a dark black spot in it, and then others. he came to them, found they were breaks in the surface, pocks caused by smaller bubbles. he looked into one that opened at the base. using his flashlight, he could see that it was a small, almost entirely spherical cave. he found others pocking the walls of the cavern bubble. this then was the ideal spot for a permanent home. not that he needed shielding from the elements, for obviously there were no elements here--no rain, snow, clouds, or weather oddities. neither was there night or day. robin would move his possessions into this cave, simply to have them located and safe. besides, there might be some larger form of life, some carnivores around--he could not tell. better to be safe than sorry, he said to himself. he acted at once, carrying the rocket nose and its stuff to the cave, transferring his rabbits and their pen to a spot just outside the cave door. he would need a bowl for water and, using his screwdriver blade, he finally managed to detach the curved rocket nose and found himself in possession of a deep bowl. he took this down to the water, filled it and carried it back to his cave. already he began to feel cheerier. nothing like work, he thought, to take your mind off your other problems. suddenly he realized he was tired. how long had he been at this? he did not know. now he realized that with no sunrise or sunset visible in his underground world, he could not tell time. he looked at his wrist watch, but it had stopped running, of course. he decided to take a nap; he lay down and fell asleep. when he woke up, he set his watch at eight o'clock, decided to consider this the beginning of a day. he found the notebook he'd carried in his back pocket, opened it, and set up his new calendar. using the date of the rocket's take-off, he allowed five days as a probable estimate of the time passed since. he had no means of knowing how long he had been ill, he suspected it had been longer, but decided to let it stand. after arriving at the date, he made the time eight in the morning, laid out the times he expected to eat, to work, to sleep. he would try to live according to a full terrestrial day, checking the passage of time by his watch. he then listed all the things he expected would have to be done, and decided to check them off as he completed them. next he ate breakfast from the fruit of the ball-tree. he spent the rest of that morning trying to find a means of making fire. he had some bits of steel from the rocket, and he tried to strike sparks on everything that resembled rock. after a search, he found some fragments of rock near the water that gave off a spark. whether these were flints or not, he did not care, so long as they worked for him. with this discovery he knew he would be free from worry about the problem of matches. his next problem was to secure a weapon. this solved itself rather fast with a bow and arrow. a long, flexible metal tube from the rear connections of the rocket, bent to make a bow when tied with a string of nylon cord, made a satisfactory _twang_ when pulled. he made arrows out of the fibers of the moontree stalks, and practiced shooting. the next few days followed the same pattern. robin enlarged his area of exploration, finding several other kinds of lunar vegetation and a number of other insect-worms. he found several that were quite large, one as large as a squirrel. it was an odd thing, humping itself along in little bounds--a creature of a dozen ball-like segments, two of which had toothed mouths, although only the ball in front had an eye, a lidless orb set in the center of this ball. but the creature was fringed with the light-rod organs as the tiny worm-ants had been. robin tried to cook part of this creature but the monkey refused to touch it and he found it entirely unpalatable. on the other hand, he found that when he removed the little yellow balls from the top of the light stalks on the creature, they remained glowing--even as do the abdomens of fireflies. he therefore diligently set about catching a number of these moonrats, as he named them, and making a lantern for himself by filling a glass tube with the glow organs. this worked out quite nicely when he experimented in his dark cave-home, emitting a clear, though pale, yellow light. his rabbit had a nice litter at last, and robin carefully saw that they were kept well supplied with food and drink. he would eat no more meat until there were several dozen adults, all breeding. but he felt that now he was assured of a source of clothing when his own would give out. he knew that eventually he would have to dress himself entirely in the products of his own ingenuity. his earth clothes could last no more than a few years. he had already devised for himself an experimental pair of sandals from the rinds of the ball-tree fruit and the stalks of the moontrees. they would do, and he carefully removed his shoes and put them away. when he had heavy exploring to do, or if and when he might try to reach the surface, he would need his good heavy leather shoes. until then, the makeshift sandals would do. for he knew that someday he would have to reach the surface. if and when the first astronauts arrived, they would not go below. they would probably never suspect the presence of these unseen areas beneath the crust, possibly not for many dozens of years. it would be on the surface that robin would have to go to find rescue. that was the greatest problem he would have to solve. against that terrible trip, he would have to conserve and plan. meanwhile, he had a toehold on life here, if conditions within his sublunar cavern did not change. but they were changing ... and not for the better. _9. from stone age to iron age_ when he woke up one morning robin was vaguely aware of something different. he opened his eyes to the dark interior of his cave-home and lay there on his bed of padding from the cargo chamber. for a while he rested quietly in that pleasant half-sleep of awakening after a good rest. unconsciously his hand moved down searching for a blanket, but of course there was none. he'd never needed one before. he unconsciously groped again for the blanket, then opened his eyes wide and sat up. there was a slight chill in the air at that! now he noticed the monkey, asleep, curled up tightly against his leg. that was odd because previously the little fellow had slept outside. what had brought him in? robin got up and cheeky, as robin had named his friend, woke up instantly and leaped to his shoulder. "what's the trouble, fellow?" asked robin, patting him on the head. then the young man left the cave and looked around. at first nothing seemed greatly changed. the temperature had dropped a few degrees, no doubt about it. yet there was no special draft, no break in the bubble walls to account for it. he looked at the plants and then realized that some of them were beginning to change color. a grayness was creeping in subtly. the balls of moontree fruit, which had been his chief sustenance, were showing signs of wrinkling and had either already shriveled or were beginning to. robin glanced around sharply, looked into his notebook calendar. he calculated the days that had passed. when his rocket had crashed the moon had been full. this meant it was high noon of a lunar day on the surface above. but a lunar day lasted about a terrestrial month--twenty-eight days to be exact. when the sun was at its height, the temperature of the surface crust was to be measured as high as 240 degrees fahrenheit. by sunset it might be down to 160 degrees, but immediately after sunset it would drop with great speed and shortly begin to go as low as a hundred below zero and continue to drop for yet another hundred degrees. and robin had perhaps been in his sublunar cavern for ten or maybe twelve days. the sun had set above, the lunar night was there. though the cavern was insulated by the best sort of insulation in the universe--a honeycomb of several miles between the surface and itself--a honeycomb in many cases consisting of sealed bubbles, some near vacuums--there was bound to be a gradual loss of the stored-up heat from the long lunar day. it might take a while for this to become noticeable, especially in view of the obviously warm volcanic action from the unseen areas near the core of the moon below, yet there it was. so now robin knew that the lunar day did have a counterpart here, that there would be monthly seasons in his cavern and that he was facing a winter that might last ten days more. he looked around, pondering this. could he survive? he had probably only a short time to work this out. obviously he had to work fast and make good. "come, cheeky," he said, "no time for foolishness. no daily swim in the river this morning. harvest time is here." he glanced at his rabbits, but they did not seem to mind the temperature drop. he went into the clumps of moontrees and began to gather their fruit--the big balls--as fast as possible. they were still plump enough to hold food-pulp. he realized that if he waited, they would probably dry up on their trees, shrivel to seed as the increasing cold drew the moisture from them. he spent that day in gathering a harvest, in piling great masses of the fruit in a small cavern-wall bubble near his sleeping chamber. when he had amassed enough to see him through at least two weeks, he gathered the fallen trunks and dried-up old stalks and piled them in the narrow entrance to this storage cave. he built a fire there, paced it out, and spread it out to burn slowly. he would have to keep this fire going and another like it in front of his own sleeping cavern. he transferred the rabbits to his bubble-home also, rebuilding their pen. as he had expected, the temperature in his hidden world continued its fall. a few days later it was quite chilly and the moontrees had acted as he surmised. their fruits had withered quite rapidly, finally dropping off as small hard seeds. the tree stalks dried out, turned hard, and fell. robin gathered them as fuel for his fires, found that they were quite excellent, and also that the fresh-fallen ones could be woven into basketry. the river continued to flow, but was more sluggish, and its waters began to grow cold. on the other hand, the moonworms and other little creatures seemed to be having their heyday. they were out in quantities greater than he had ever seen and were busily gathering the fallen seeds, carrying them away, evidently preferring them to the fruit. robin made himself a jacket from an extra part of the padding, stitching it together with cord and thongs made from shell fibers. with a fire going at the door of his cave, he found he still wouldn't need blankets. during the balance of the lunar night robin was forced to remain close to his caves, tending his fires, conserving all his energies. outside, the temperature never actually reached freezing, or at least not that robin could estimate. but at its worst, it was definitely chilly and the river fairly cold. the view within the cavern cleared somewhat of its usual mugginess and he could see much more. he could now make out the walls on all sides, and discovered that the farthest distance, in the direction in which the river ran, was perhaps several miles off. the vegetation had mainly flattened, was drying up, and he could see everywhere the little ball-segmented insects humping and squirming about. he saw a number of varieties he had not noticed before. one day venturing out with his bow and arrow, he disturbed something working amid a pile of broken stalks. the thing rushed out, directly at him. it was large, as large as a dog, and it ran straight for him silently, its wide mouth gaping. he shot it, saw it fall over as it was about to leap at him. when he dug his arrow out, he saw that it was no wormlike insect, no segmented creature. it was a recognizable animal, a creature with two short stubby feet, two small extensions that were like hands on each side of an oval body. a definite head surmounted this, with one eerie eye set in the middle over its wide mouth. two little breathing holes in the side attested to its possession of lungs. a long, curving rod grew out of the top of its skull and held a large yellow light-ball over it. there was yet another peculiarity about this moonhound, as robin called it. it had no definite color. its skin was faintly transparent, and he could see its inner organs shadowy within. all this reminded robin that there must be vast cavern worlds totally without light, yet having flora and fauna. when there is no light, there is no need for pigmentation. hence, this creature had none. robin also surmised that it was probably the cold that drove this beast into the lighted cavern in search of food, for he had never seen evidence of anything that large during the warm period. robin brought the carcass back to his cave and went to work to skin and cook it. at first he was not going to, for the hairless, colorless nature of it was rather repellent. but one thing robin had learned long ago was not to let his emotions dictate to his needs. like it or not, he was going to make use of everything here he could. he had a task, and that was to survive. as a matter of fact, the meat cooked very nicely, turned brown in the fire, and tasted good. further, it had a bone structure, which the moonworms hadn't, and robin saved these bones, knowing that there were many things that they could be used for. he remembered museum exhibits of bone needles, bone knives, and bone implements, including arrowheads and buttons that the indians had made use of. after that, robin deliberately hunted for these moonhounds and caught several others before the winter was over. the warmth returned about when robin had figured, starting a day or so after the surface sunrise. it rose rapidly, faster than it had fallen, and just as fast, new moontrees were shooting up, new moonmushrooms were growing, and the river was becoming warmer. as time went on and month followed month, robin found himself working into a comfortable, if primitive, routine. he charted exactly what to do on what days. he could tell in advance what he would be eating, what he would be harvesting. his rabbits had become sufficient in number to permit slaughtering, and he began to acquire a pile of rabbit furs. he found it no longer possible to keep all his rabbits in one pen, and finally liberated the majority of them and left them to shift for themselves. this worked out fine, and he never lacked the sight of at least one or two bunnies anywhere he looked. during the two weeks of winter each month they simply holed up as they might have done on earth. it was an odd sight seeing the rabbits run wild, for their powerful leg muscles were many times stronger than was required by the weak gravity and, when they ran in a hurry, they would bounce many feet high in fantastic leaps. robin was now wearing a rabbit-fur outfit of coat, pants, and hat during the winter periods, equipped with bone buttons he'd carved from the moonhound skeletons. he was, if anything, beginning to gain weight, but he was also aware of the paleness of his skin. he wondered whether staying in this sunless world a sufficient number of years would not make him as palely transparent as the moonhounds. but all this time robin had not forgotten his ultimate mission--to reach the surface and signal for help. he had worked out the problem in his own mind. he had to make some sort of space suit, something that would permit him to venture out on the nearly airless surface long enough to set up a signal that astronomers might see. he knew he had the materials for part of this suit in the metal salvaged from the rocket nose. he could polish a section sufficiently to make a heliograph with which he could flash a code message to any high-powered telescope that might be pointed his way. but he had also to fashion the metal into an airtight space helmet, and that he did not know how to do. the suit itself he could probably fashion from cloth and tanned skins, sew and seal it tight enough with animal fats and bone glue to be airtight for a short period, but he needed the helmet. he had the glass for it too, the little peepholes for the camera outlets and a large circular plate that had been set in the very base of the cargo nose and evidently intended for a wide-vision camera shot of the earth. this plate would be his face plate. robin was aware of the hissing noise that he had first noticed on his arrival, but he had never investigated it. it was far off, somewhere along the wall of the cavern. one work period, when he found himself ahead of schedule, he set out to find the source of the noise. following the wall, with cheeky running ahead chattering, the hiss gradually grew in volume. robin made his way over a sharp cleft, skirted a large bubble-cave in the wall, and after about two miles of walking, came upon the source. issuing from a break in the outer cavern wall was a stream of blue flame. for several hundred feet around it no vegetation grew, the ground being covered with thin gray ash. robin looked at the loudly hissing lance of blue fire. it probably was a breakthrough from some adjoining bubble, one filled with a gas of some inflammable sort. somehow in the course of the breakthrough, this leakage had been set aflame. and there it was now, a burning gas jet, sharp and hot. at that moment, robin knew he had the answer to his metalworking problem. he'd tried to melt the metal of the rocket over his fires but he had been totally unsuccessful. but this jet, this hot blue flame, this surely would do the trick! for him the space helmet was now a certainty. it might take time, but now it could be done. that and more was possible, for he had enough metal to make a few necessities like a decent frying pan and a pot to use for boiling and perhaps a water container for a really long exploration trip. that was the end of robin's first "stone age" period and the beginning of his "iron age." _10. the incredible footprints_ using the gas jet proved to be considerably more difficult than might have been supposed. it was hard to approach too closely to the thing without running the danger of getting scorched. also, to hold metal in it long enough to allow it to melt or become pliable it was necessary to find a way of holding the object without getting burned. robin did get several blisters before he finally worked out a system. making himself a pair of thick rabbit-skin gloves lined with a thin coating of the ash from the area around the flame proved to be part of the solution. a pair of bone pliers proved to be another part, though the necessity of replacing these was continuous. working patiently then, robin managed to cut and work some of the sheets of metal from the rocket nose. he made himself a hammer of hard stone with which to pound some shape into his pieces and finally had fashioned for himself a serviceable, though crude, frying pan and other implements he needed. his next project was to be the space helmet, the first essential part of any space suit. he considered this a long time, planning just how to make it. he had a good sheet of metal for the job, but he didn't want to make any errors in working it, and he wanted to have as few seams as possible. welding had thus far proved a task he had not mastered. he considered making the joints airtight by means of some sort of vegetableor animal-fat product. robin sat in his cave watching the rebirth of life in the bubble-world after one of the winter half-months and thinking. he watched his monkey, cheeky, turning over rocks for moonworms--although the little brown pet had never been able to eat them, he seemed to enjoy the hunting of these odd creatures. he watched the rabbits bounding around, listened to those he kept penned up in the next cave. "what am i waiting for?" he asked himself, half aloud. the monkey stopped at the sound of his voice, looked at him. robin had developed the habit of talking to himself. he was aware of the danger that years of this hermit's life might well cause him to forget how to talk, and he did not want that. "i can't use a space suit until i can find a way to the surface--a safe way. and i've never even really explored this cavern itself. maybe there's a simpler way of communication with the surface." he sat and thought. the monkey dashed over to him, jumped on his knee, chattering. "i really ought to get about exploring this place," robin went on. "you know, cheeky, there might be some more things we can use. what do you say, shall we spend this next week playing columbus, looking for more bubble worlds to conquer?" the monkey chattered happily, jumped off his knee, and ran around. "guess you like the idea," said robin. "let's get about it, then." he got up and made his preparations. he filled a sack with enough food for several days. he took his homemade canteen, made from a hollowed-out moontree fruit rind, filled it with water and hung it around his neck. he took his flashlight and knife, his bow and arrow, and his lantern of light organs. he had discovered that the little light-giving bulbs the animals carried would glow for about two days after their removal, and therefore he constantly kept this lantern refilled with his latest catches. he looked to see whether his special lot of penned rabbits had enough food and water for the period and then, whistling to cheeky, robin set out. he went down to the bank of the flowing stream on which he had been originally carried and then set out to follow this rivulet its length into the distances of the bubble-world. he followed the flowing stream for about twelve miles. the bubble widened out and the water, which had originally brushed the other side of the cavern where robin had lived, had now narrowed as a bank of dry ground formed on the opposite side. robin found himself walking through an ever deepening thicket of growing moontrees which went on for many miles. the stream twisted and moved off at right angles finally rushing into a deep pool. robin went over and gazed into it. plainly the pool had some sort of underground opening, for the water was swirling around with no visible surface outlet. so this was where the stream ran to! doubtless it emptied into another bubble somewhere below, probably to fall like a waterfall into that space, there to become another stream and empty still again farther down until it ended in some vast reservoir of sublunar seas. but robin was not interested in going farther down, he sought a way upward toward the surface, toward the sight of earth. he turned away from the whirlpool, walked boundingly on to the farther wall of his home-bubble. he reached it in time for his sleep period. it seemed as solid and impregnable as the wall around his home region. robin and cheeky slept next to the wall and after their sleep resumed their search. robin walked along the wall, looking again for some break. he saw in the distance a jagged line of black against the shining brown-gray of the cliff. when he reached it, it was a crack, a break in the surface of the bubble, reaching up several hundred feet. he came up to it. it was wide, about ten feet wide, and dark. robin shone his flashlight in, but as far as its rays could reach it was a dark tunnel. "maybe this is what we're looking for," robin said to cheeky. "it seems to slant slightly upward. maybe it will take us to the next bubble." cheeky peered in, walked in slowly and out of sight. "hey," called robin, "wait for me!" he followed the scampering monkey. now his lantern proved handy. the glow it shed could barely be noticed in the light of the great bubble, but here in the darkness of the cleft, the pale glow was distinct and definitely illuminated the ground a few feet in front of him. on he walked, holding the lantern ahead of him, watching cheeky's long tail flick in and out of its circle of dim light, as the monkey would dash ahead and dash back. soon robin found himself walking in almost total darkness, save for the limited glow of his lantern. the floor of the cleft occasionally slanted sharply, sometimes breaking steeply downward, sometimes necessitating jumps upward into the darkness. in the moon's light gravity, robin was a fantastic jumper, but the darkness made the problem very disconcerting. it was a strange thing to have to leap upward into a black void in hopes that what seemed like a wall in front of you would turn out to have a top and be but a giant step upward. he soared in the darkness, not knowing how near or how far the roof of the tunnel was, feeling strangely disembodied, the monkey clinging to his neck in transit. he missed several such jumps, managed to avoid being bruised severely only by the feathery softness with which he fell afterward. when the going was straight, cheeky would leap down and go ahead. suddenly he heard a screeching from the monkey. he stopped, flashed his flashlight. the monkey was clutching the edge of a deep break, a pit cut sharply across the floor of the tunnel. robin quickly reached the spot, scooped up cheeky. his flashlight revealed the other side of the pit several yards away. turning its rays downward, he could see no bottom to this crack within the tunnel. he shuddered, thinking what might have happened had he gone into it. then, gathering cheeky, robin leaped. he soared lightly across the abyss and landed safely on the other side. he went on, slowly, carefully. a spot of light appeared before him. he stared at it and continued moving forward. the light widened, became the end of the tunnel, became the entrance to something new. he hastened on and burst at last into a new cavern-world, the world of the next bubble. it looked much like his old one, but it was definitely smaller. the rounded ceiling could be made out quite clearly and he estimated its diameter as not more than a half mile. the far side of the bubble could be seen clearly and this one, he noticed, even from where he stood, had many such clefts and cracks in the wall. it was, he supposed, either an older bubble, more cracked in the course of eons of moonquakes and heat changes, or else it was more tightly knitted in a close mass of such bubbles. a thick jungle of giant moontrees was growing here, stalklike plants resembling those he knew, but seemingly larger and more profuse. robin started to walk through it toward the farther wall of the bubble. cheeky had leaped into the stalks and was swinging through them ahead of him, when suddenly the monkey uttered a terrified shriek and there arose a strange high-pitched barking sound. robin pushed through and saw the monkey, high in the top of a moontree and a strange sort of moonhound leaping for him. this kind of moonhound was considerably bigger than the ones he had seen in his original bubble. it was uttering the eager bark of a hungry beast sighting its prey. robin unlimbered his bow and fitting an arrow into it, let fly. the sharp missile skewered the moonbeast and the animal twisted in mid-air and fell thrashing to the ground. robin dashed in and finished it off with a blow from the stone club he carried. cheeky came down from the tree cautiously, advanced to the dead animal, and prodded it. then the monkey uttered a shriek, bared its teeth, and began to pommel the dead body as if he had been the one to bring it down. robin examined the animal. it was similar in many ways to the moonhounds, yet different, and robin's private theory that the moonhound represented the equivalent of a mammal type seemed verified. whereas the moonhound was a wolf or dog, this creature corresponded more closely to a leopard or tiger. the flesh of this creature seemed as if it might possibly make a substitute for leather--although it, too, was eerily transparent and it, too, possessed but one central eye and a large light organ. robin trekked on through this jungle until at last he reached the opposite wall. he was aware as he walked that there was a good deal of native life here, much more than had been evident in his own cavern. evidently the first bubble was pretty much cut off from the general labyrinth of sublunar caverns. for as robin walked, he caught glimpses of other moonbeasts, slipping in and out, sometimes surprised and scurrying away. moonworms, the equivalent of earth's insect life, were here in plenty too, and there were many giant growths which were different from those in his own cave, and some fruits of considerable promise were growing on them. "we could do some farming now," said robin to cheeky. "i'll bring back some of the seeds from these bigger trees and plant them back home. it'll give us some variety." the monkey merely chattered and pushed on ahead. at the farther wall, the original observation of many cracks was confirmed. the wall was broken like an eggshell and robin could see that dozens of tunnels went out, probably leading to several other bubbles. he decided that the following day he would look for the ones that seemed to lead upward. but it was the time for sleep again. he found a little cave, similar to the ones in which he had made his home, and there he and cheeky ate their meal, cooking some of the meat from the moontiger over a small open fire. the meat looked strange in its almost glassy appearance, yet it browned and tasted very good. a thin stream of water meandered out of one of the cracks and from this robin drank and refilled his canteen. he and the monkey curled up, now fed and contented, and went to sleep. robin awoke suddenly. he opened his eyes, puzzled. the monkey was screeching somewhere. he sat up, called, "cheeky!" the little creature dashed back to him. it had been outside the cave and it was excited. it was chattering and complaining as never before. the monkey jumped up and down in a perfect ecstasy of fury. robin looked at it in wonder. he'd never seen cheeky so excited. he sat up, looked around. at first he saw nothing unusual. outside the cave all was quiet. then he noticed that his food pack had been moved. it had been dragged outside the cave, and its contents pulled out. robin got to his feet, went to it. something had come into the cave silently, had taken the sack, and had examined its contents. he looked about, amazed and wondering. now he saw that other things had been touched. his canteen had been rolled over and the stopper unplugged. the water that had been inside was a little puddle on the cave floor. alarmed, robin strung his bow, notched an arrow, and looked carefully around at the surrounding vegetation. something was there, something big and cunning. his eyes searched the ground and then he saw an outline in water from the canteen. whatever it was had stepped into the puddle and then walked out of the cave. robin saw a series of footprints. something that walked on two legs, something that took steps with a man-sized stride, something with three toes on each foot, that walked upright, was able to open bottles, look into sacks, and spy on sleeping strangers. something that might well be to the moontiger and the moonhound what earth man was to the earth tiger and the earth hound. moonman! _11. the glass man_ the situation was so astonishing that for a while robin did not do anything but sit down inside his cave and catch his breath. somehow he had assumed all along that he would not find anything on a human scale on the moon. his life had been mainly confined to the first cavern-bubble he'd arrived at and this, as he now realized, had been a rather isolated one. unconsciously, he had assumed that life in other protected airtight sublunar areas would be on a similarly low and limited level. now he realized that he had had no right to make such an assumption. the moon might harbor thousands and tens of thousands of bubbles; some might be hundreds of miles in scale; some, lower down, nearer the still-warm volcanic heart of the satellite, might even approach tropical climates and show little of the semi-monthly seasonal changes. in such places life might grow in profusion, might compel the kind of battle for existence as would bring out the evolution of a brain-carrying creature living on its wits. and, although he was probably a little farther away from the central caverns at this moment, he was actually on the outskirts of the linked bubbles. in such border regions he might indeed encounter rovers and wanderers from the more prolific areas. but the problem was now how to find this prowler. there was, he hoped, only one of them. the creature was probably hanging around somewhere, even now, keeping an eye on robin's doings. robin got to his feet, looked through his provisions. he found a bit of rabbit meat, took it out, and skewered it on a cooking stick. he then knelt inside his cave-refuge and built a fire, using his flint and steel. over this fire he hung the bit of meat and set it to roasting. he carefully began to fan the smoke out of the cave, knowing that it would carry the new and tongue-tempting odor of cooked meat to everything in the vicinity. robin slipped out of the cave and hid himself in a thick clump of growth nearby. cheeky clung to his shoulder, hushed to silence. they waited. after a few minutes robin saw a slight motion in the vegetation at the other side of the cave entrance. he watched, and a moment later saw a head thrust itself out, and then a figure emerge and silently stalk to the cave and look in. it was manlike, walking on two feet and it had two arms. it was oddly misty, seeming naked and semi-transparent like the other animal life. in one hand the creature carried a long stick to which something sharp and glassy was attached--clearly a type of spear. the creature paused at the cave mouth, then seeing no one within and unable to resist the tantalizing curiosity of cooking meat and a small fire, it went inside. immediately robin dashed out of hiding, ran across the small space and blocked the entrance of the cave with his body. the creature within was bending over the meat, but on hearing robin, it turned, and made a wild dash for the cave mouth. it collided with robin. for a moment there was a wild scramble of arms and legs and then robin's greatly superior earth muscles overpowered the other's and the creature was caught. robin held it tightly in his arms, carried it into the cave, and sat it down. the spear had been knocked aside in the tussle and robin looked at it with a glance. one glance was enough to make the young man realize that he had had a narrow escape. its tip was bright and as sharp as a piece of broken glass. if the creature had thought to jab that spear, it might have been deadly. but now the captured being was sitting quietly in a sort of resignation, merely looking at robin with the same curiosity that robin bestowed upon it. it was very much like a human being, perhaps some four feet tall. but its head was somewhat triangular in shape, having only one eye (robin never found any moon creatures with two), and was topped with a large yellow light bulb that extended a foot above. robin took the bit of meat, cut off a piece and held it out to the creature. the moonman looked at it, then reached out a hand and took it. it smelled it, then tasted it, and, finding the taste to its liking, swiftly gobbled it down. robin ate some too, and this gesture seemed to reconcile the other. a fairly universal gesture, robin thought. only friends would share a meal. probably would hold true anywhere in the universe. now robin picked up the other's spear and examined it. seeing this, the creature picked up one of robin's sacks and also looked at it. the sharp point of the spear was something that looked like glass but glistened far more, seemed sharper, harder, and heavier. robin turned it over, and the realization struck him that this spearhead was a diamond, a single six-inch-long shard of diamond! after the first shock of this discovery, robin realized that he should have expected it. on such a volcanic world as the moon had once been, there might well be lots of diamond in great masses. what could be easier to use for weapons and cutting edges than chunks broken from such masses. such a chunk brought back to earth might be worth an emperor's ransom--but who could think of such values here? getting the friendship of the moonman proved to be easy after that first effort. for the creature made no further effort to escape, seemed itself to desire robin's companionship. in fact, as it turned out, robin would have had a hard time getting rid of it. it seemed anxious now to stay close to the earthling, to share him with cheeky. the glass-skinned being had a language, for it soon began to jabber away at robin in a high-pitched squeaky tongue. after a little experimentation, robin was able to get it to repeat the name robin, and in turn, he found out that the glassie's own name was something nearly like korree. korree was evidently a very primitive sort of savage in spite of his ability to speak. as robin set out to re-cross this bubble and return to his own holdings, the creature wound in and out ahead of him, returning steadily to see if all was well. korree had no clothes and no understanding of them. he had only his spear, which robin had returned to him and he had apparently lost faith in that, the first time robin used his bow and arrow on a yapping moontiger. the trip through the dark tunnels back to robin's original bubble was comparatively easy, for no sooner did they get into the darkness than korree's light organ began to glow brightly enough to render robin's lantern dim. when they came to the cleft, robin had to pick the moonman up and jump with him, for korree's muscles were built only for moon gravity and that leap was beyond his normal ability. once back in what robin now thought of as the safety of his original bubble, the two settled down to work together. korree soon got the hang of the simple duties robin gave him--feeding the rabbits, slaughtering, skinning, and tanning. they spent the time trying to learn each other's languages. robin carefully jotted down each new sound or word he could identify in the glassie's speech and korree in turn seemed anxious to imitate the english. it took about four months before they had a working interchange of ideas. robin found that the glassie's language was quite limited in many ways, though having a great many variations of verb form--a typical characteristic of primitive tongues. finally, however, robin heard korree's story. his people lived many bubbles away, possibly many months of travel, though the glassie idea of time was very vague and seemed hedged around by all sorts of untranslatable mystic conditions. there were maybe several hundred of them and they formed one big tribe or family. there were many such tribes, usually one to a bubble-cavern. korree indicated that somewhere--he pointed downward--were greater caverns where many tribes lived, tribes of great strength or magic or knowledge. robin could not decide which was meant--probably all three. but korree had never been there. these downward regions were taboo to his people. robin's suspicion was that the glassies from korree's group had been forced to live in the less desirable outer areas by the stronger and more advanced races who had seized the better regions. korree indicated that there were many bubbles that were not inhabited because of great terrors, either by heat or cold. robin assumed he meant caverns of jungle and caverns more exposed to the surface temperatures. korree himself had broken some sort of tribal rule or magic and had been chased out of his home. he was a lonely outcast. that was why he had gone with robin when robin had given him food. this symbolized acceptance into robin's tribe. and though robin looked to him like a very strange sort of man indeed--a solid man, a "rock" man was the way korree explained robin's nontransparent flesh and his tremendous strength--korree had been glad to find acceptance anywhere. carefully questioning korree about the surface, robin found that the glassie had apparently no conception of what sort of a world the moon really was. to him it was a place of many enclosed spaces. the surface he had neither seen nor even dreamed of. that there could be a place where the enclosures ended and the world "dropped off" into nothing, this was something he could not imagine. robin then asked questions about the upward regions. korree indicated that these were less and less habitable, that his people strove always to go down, never up. robin twisted his questions around, trying to determine if the glassies had ever seen anything that might signify the surface. he described the sun and the earth to korree but the glassie seemed unable to understand. but when he spoke of the sun as being a bright glowing thing so bright that it hurt the eyes to look at it, korree seemed to remember something. carefully the glassie told robin that he had heard of a tribe that lived somewhere in the upper regions, where in one part of their bubble there sometimes came a terrible white-hot light that hurt when one looked upon it. this light was not always there, but shone through the top of the cavern, which korree explained was like the substance of his arm--that is, semi-transparent. robin became very excited when he heard this. it sounded to him as if somewhere up near the surface there must be an airtight cleft or bubble whose outer crust might be natural volcanic glass. through this the sun might sometimes penetrate to produce the phenomenon korree described. plainly then, this was the place robin must find. it looked like the ideal place to begin his projected signaling to earth. but whether it was or not, robin would have to make a visit there to see. korree did not like the idea, but indicated he would be willing to go along. "could you lead me there?" robin asked. "much hard," korree replied. "can make do. you-me not like. many-winter trip, many bubbles." but robin was determined. "we will go. first i must make a space suit. i may need it." korree spread out a hand in acceptance. it took about two months more to finish what robin hoped would be a workable space suit. the helmet he finally managed to weld into something like a practical shape. it fitted over his head snugly, the little glass plate in front of his eyes. its seams were closed as best as could be managed and sealed with melted animal fat. the bottom of the helmet fitted snugly over robin's shoulders and would be attached to baggy leather arm-and-hand coverings. the bottom of robin's body would be simply encased in several layers of clothing made as airtight as possible. to carry a supply of air, robin fashioned a large sack of moonhound skins, which, when filled with air and brought to the surface of the moon, would swell up like a huge balloon. he hoped that by breathing from this reserve he might be able to survive on the surface for perhaps twenty or thirty minutes. this would be all he would need, he estimated, to rush out, set up some sort of reflector or flare if he could contrive such, and dash back to safety. "safety" would, of course, be some previously sealed dome extending to the surface, through which he could cut a space narrow enough to leave, and yet, one which would not be entirely exhausted of its inner gases by the time robin got back to reseal it. this was a long-chance project, yet it was the only hope robin could think of. the matter could at least be examined at closer range if he could but find the cavern with the translucent roof. this would be an ideal base for his project. robin packed his equipment, liberated the last of his penned rabbits, and loaded as much food as he could in big sacks which he and korree carried. then, preceded again by cheeky's monkey bounds, robin turned his back on his "home" and headed back to the tunnel and the caverns beyond. it had been over a year and a half since he had been cast away on the moon, perhaps nearer two years. and now he was ready at long last to begin the long trek home. _12. the long trek_ as they progressed, robin queried korree as best he could as to the exact location of this fabled place from which the sun could be seen. "i not know from here," the glassie replied. "go from home place, yes. we go korree home place first." robin thought about that as they trudged along. he went easily and lightly in spite of his huge load--a collection of sacks and equipment tied together to make a bundle more than his own height. but bundle and all, robin was lighter and stronger by far than he would be on earth. "won't they kill you if you go back?" he asked the moonman. korree turned his head and robin almost imagined he could see his brains whirl. through the glassy skin, he could see the shadows of his skull structure and the pulsing of veins and arteries. "with robin they not do so. you make them give us free way." obviously he regarded the earthling as an all-powerful being to whom things like tribal death sentences would be mere nothings. robin smiled uneasily. without firearms and modern weapons he could still be overpowered if enough of the moonmen attacked him at once. he would have to think about his approach to the tribe before he got there. they reached the tunnel and made their way once more through its dark recesses to the jungle-bubble where he had encountered korree. they passed through this without incident. the glassie led the way to one of several cracks and tunnels at the far end. with robin following and the monkey cheeky perched on the huge pack, korree entered this tunnel. as before, it was dark and narrow and seemed to wind ahead. several times they stepped around breaks in the floor, or ducked under low passages where the ceiling had dipped. they walked on, korree's bobbing headlight casting a pale-yellowish glow a few feet ahead. robin was watching the floor carefully, straining his attention to keep his footing safe. his ears registered the echo of their motions and the changing pitch as the tunnel widened or receded, but he paid less and less attention to this. suddenly he looked up. and saw not the one glow of korree's light but a number of smaller ones around them, distant ones, bobbing slightly, one or two yellow, one small white one, and three verging on red. he started and stared but korree had said nothing. finally he reached out and tapped the glassie and whispered, "what are those lights?" korree said back in a normal tone, "animals. white light is hunting eater. i watch it." "here? in this tunnel?" asked robin, startled. "not in tunnel," said the glassie. "in new bubble-place." robin looked around. sure enough he had not noticed the echo of their feet in the last few minutes. the floor had changed from rock to sandy dirt and he realized that he had lost some of the enclosed-air feeling. it was indeed a new bubble-cavern--but a lightless one! now, as he looked carefully, he realized that there were many lights around. there were tiny ones bobbing on the ground that were probably moonworms. the others were almost certainly those of various animals. he took his flashlight out, suddenly clicked it on, and swung it around. they were in an open area, sandy with sparse clumps of mushroomlike vegetation growing here and there. he caught the scurrying flash of several translucent animal bodies dodging out of sight from the unexpected light of his flash. and when the beam was off, he noticed the headlights returning, augmented in number. "there are many bubble-places without light?" asked robin. "many," said korree. "glassies not live there, but many animals hunt there." robin wondered whether there might in fact be more bubbles without light than with. he realized that that was probably the case; it very likely explained the nearly complete lack of pigment in the flesh of the native animals, the presence of the light stalks on all of them. it had probably evolved originally in lightlessness, and the glassies had moved into the caverns fortunate enough to have natural phosphorescence only after they had discovered them much later in their history. this possibly also accounted for the single eye of moon creatures--the conditions for the use of two eyes to develop perspective and delicate differentiations of shading and coloring simply never existed. "are there animals here without eye or light?" asked robin thoughtfully. "yes," korree answered softly. "big eaters, they--" there was a sudden rush of sound ahead, a crashing of plants nearby, an instant winking out of all headlights, including korree's, and then robin felt himself thrown to the ground as something vast and huge and heavy seemed to envelop him. he felt himself being smothered under a pulsing blanket of warm flesh, a veritable wall that covered him from head to foot, crushing out his strength. robin recovered, ripped out with his hands, kicked with his feet. he felt his strong terrestrial muscles tearing into the tissue of the creature, and swinging wildly, he got to his knees and then to his feet, veritably lifting the entire bulk of the creature. he reached for his knife and as he got it open he felt the sharp edge of a jaw and the hot breath of a large mouth near his ear. he thrust out with the knife hard and furiously, cutting the mass to bits. there was a sharp screech and he felt the blanket of flesh pull away and struggle to withdraw. he got his flashlight with his other hand, flicked it on to see his opponent better. he saw a wall of gelatinous flesh rolling back before him. it rolled off the prostrate but unharmed body of korree, gathered itself in a mass and rolled rapidly away, uttering loud screeches. the thing was a ball of flesh, several yards across. it had a wide, many-toothed mouth. it had several flat flanged spots which were probably ears, and it was lacking an eye, lacking any light organ. it hardly needed them. obviously the thing simply rolled around in the darkness of the cavern, guided by the sounds of moving animals, rolling over them, flattening out, and devouring them. korree got to his feet. he said nothing, seemed to take it for granted that the great earthling would have bested this thing, of course, and started off again. robin frowned, decided he'd have to watch himself lest the glassie sometime really overestimate his capacities. they traversed the rest of the lightless cavern without incident, this time robin keeping his flashlight switching on and off regularly, long enough to sweep the moonscape sufficiently to gain warnings of future assaults. once they saw the ball-like bulk of a moonbowler, as robin mentally named it, in the distance, and they both carefully stopped and held their breath until it rolled away. at the far wall, korree searched the various breaks until he found the one through which he had originally come. they passed through another lightless cavern, this one less of a desert than the other, where giant mushrooms towered like great trees in the darkness and where little chittering moonmice ran about their feet, tiny green lights sparkling. the next cavern was a lighted one and this was now almost familiar to them. beyond that was another lighted one through which a channel of water flowed only to disappear into a tiny crack in the far wall. this water, however, was yellowish and evil-smelling and made the entire cavern malodorous. yet it too had its quota of strange vegetation. a series of rather small bubbles, not more than a couple of dozen yards across, came next, and then they arrived at a wide, deep one. the spot in the wall which let out on it was near the roof of this bubble, and they made their way delicately along a series of faults and ledges. looking down, robin could see that a lake of some bubbling oily substance filled the lower level of the bubble. along one side, tucked in a corner near a tunnel opening, many hundreds of feet down, he spotted something odd. he stopped. korree turned back, made his way along the narrow ledge and looked down to where he pointed. there was a small cleared space just before the opening, and there were several objects too far away to be seen clearly, but they looked for all the world like some sort of eggs. as they watched, robin saw what seemed a shadowy figure move near one. because of the curious glassy skins, that was probably an animal. robin softly asked korree what it was. "is glassie like korree," answered korree quietly. "a friend? one of your people? and what are they doing there?" asked robin. korree shook his head violently. "not korree people. that one is from down place. is mighty people from...." he pointed downward to the moon's core. "they come here to take...." he pointed now at the curious chemical lake. "they bring back down with them," he finished. robin gasped. here was evidence of his reasoning. the glassies that lived near the core of the moon were higher in civilization. here evidently was a place where something usable could be gathered--the fluid of that lake. possibly it might be fuel for burning, or substance usable as tar or cement. the beings down below came up for it, put it in tanks--the egg-shaped objects--and brought it back to their greater caverns. someday this would have to be investigated. if he ever returned to earth, this would have to be explored. but now--were these unknowns dangerous to him? he asked korree, who shrugged. in his halting fashion he conveyed to the earthling that if the glassies of the upper crust left those lower down alone, they were not bothered. the implication however was that korree's people were only too willing to stay out of the way of the powerful underlords. after several more caverns--the trip had already taken over a week--including one marvelous one in which several flaming gas jets made amazing patterns in an otherwise lightless world, korree finally led the way into a large lighted cavern many miles wide, stopped and announced, "korree home." robin looked around, adjusted his pack and called to cheeky to return. the monkey, which had scampered on ahead, obediently dashed back and to safety on the pack. this was an important moment to robin. he mustered his plans, and stepped out after korree who had started out again holding his spear high in the air in some sort of native signal. for a short while they walked without seeing anyone. they were in a forest of ball-trees when suddenly they found themselves quietly surrounded by glassies. evidently they had been trailed since entering the cavern and at a sufficient distance from the tunnel mouth the glassies had popped out of concealment. there were about twenty or so, all armed with the diamond spears and they effectively encircled the travelers. korree had apparently expected this, for he showed no surprise, but robin stopped short and cheeky started jumping up and down on the huge pack and shrieking at the pack of beings. it was odd seeing a mass of glassies. robin could see that they differed from each other as individuals. some were larger, some smaller, and the shadings within their bodies gave rather clear evidence of fatness, of recent eating, and such. like korree they wore no garments at all. one of the glassies said something sharply to korree, who answered promptly. the spokesman had a black circle painted on his chest--this was obviously a symbol of some sort of tribal authority. robin stepped forward, walked up to this glassie, who promptly withdrew, uneasy in the presence of this unknown. from his pocket robin took his pack of matches, the one that had been with him all the way from earth. there were still three matches left, saved for just some occasion as this, carefully conserved by the use of robin's flint and steel. robin walked up to a small ball-tree nearby, held the match aloft, then struck it, and rapidly held it to the stalklike trunk. after a second the plant caught fire and was a blazing mass. while the glassies were gazing in amazement at this unexpected display, robin drew in his breath, set his pack down, and gave a leap straight upward with all his strength. he soared some thirty feet high and then gently floated down to the ground again. this was a feat that anyone with earth muscles could do, but it was something that lunar muscles had never been developed for. when the glassies tore their eyes away from the burning tree it was to find robin apparently vanished. looking around, one of them discovered him in the air, floating gently back to the ground. with one accord the glassies shrieked and ran away. when robin hit the ground, he was alone with korree--who looked as nearly smug as it was possible for his unearthly features to look. the earthling picked up his sack, whistled to cheeky to come to him, and started off again. in a few minutes, korree led him to the tribal center, the "village" of his people. there were no houses or tents or any structures with roofs. each family group apparently fenced off their section of ground with a barrier of low, pointed sticks, their points diagonally outward. within this barrier, the family squatted with their few possessions. there was no such thing as privacy among this primitive group. the females of the tribe apparently stayed within their family plots, with the young, the extra spears and hunting sticks, the leftover supplies of food, and a pile in the center of each circle of what must have been some sort of blankets, apparently woven crudely from vegetable fibers. robin assumed that during the cold periods, these were used. the males of the tribe were gathered before a central circle, watching their visitors approach. korree went to them, stopped, and spoke at length. robin could not understand him, but he knew what he must be saying. his glassie friend was obviously first boasting of his friendship with the magical stranger, then warning them of terrible consequences if they failed to obey and honor the stranger, doubtless inserting a demand for his own full pardon of whatever tribal offense had brought about his own banishment, and demanding the aid of the tribal leaders in assisting them on their way. when he had finished, robin walked straight up to the glassie with the chest marking, reached out and extracted from the tip of his quivering light-organ stalk a copper cent which robin had first palmed in his hand. to the astonished native, he presented this token--one of the coins robin had had in his pocket on his unexpected trip from new mexico. the glassie took it, stared at it. the face on the coppery-yellow coin seemed to hypnotize him. no one had ever seen such a thing--a bit of bright rock with a face on it! but this additional evidence of robin's magic clinched the argument. robin and korree stayed in that cavern for about three days. in that time korree managed to obtain fairly specific directions from one old-timer as to the cavern they sought. he had also evidently repaired his tribal fences, for robin could not fail to notice that korree was always accompanied by a group of anxious and placating glassies. he imagined that when korree returned to stay, it would be as a chieftain. the nature of the tribe's culture remained much of a mystery. they were very primitive, yet they seemed to have a complicated series of taboos and ceremonies. there was clearly a very definite code of marriage and family relations, though its limitations were puzzling. robin discovered something about them, however. one of the circular enclosures was apparently a tribal storehouse, or temple, or arsenal, or magic circle--exactly what he could not tell--save that no family lived within and there were little piles of oddities carefully placed inside its magic circle. the penny robin had "pulled from the chief's head" reposed therein on a raised mound. the burnt match stick lay beside it. the rest of the contents seemed to be curiously shaped stones, odd bits of animal skin, a skeleton of something big and round which might perhaps have been that of a moonbowler slain by the hero of the tribe. several diamond spearheads were there, including some that had fractured in use. and something that glistened like metal. robin saw this latter, and, stepping boldly inside the magic circle, picked this object up and examined it. it was a knife blade! it was nothing of terrestrial manufacture. it was about nine inches long and a couple of inches wide at the hilt, tapering down to a point. it was edged on one side, and bore the marks of having been hammered down and shaped by a hand mallet rather than ever having felt the heat of a forge. engraved in its rather soft white metal were a series of odd hooks and lines that looked like writing of a sort. the hilt end was jagged as if the blade had been snapped off in careless usage. robin called to korree and asked him about the object. korree consulted with the chief and returned. "sharp thing, it come from down-there people," he said, pointing to the regions below. "glassie of those die in break of tunnel. we find, take this." well, robin thought, this adds to the evidence. there is some sort of higher civilization below. not yet at the fire-building stage, but advancing at the dawn of the iron age. i wonder if this is really writing or just a design? and i wonder what metal this is? not iron surely. he thought a while, then deciding that as a creature of magic he could get away with it, informed korree that he would take the knife blade away with him. the glassies seemed unconcerned. it was evident that robin was far outside their taboos. the question of time among the glassies was an odd one. the earthling had surmised as much in his observations of korree. there seemed to be no effort to divide the periods into rest and work. some hunted and worked when they felt like it, others slept at the same time. when the time came, robin and korree made their way out of the cavern upward along a ledge on one side of the bubble wall, through a fault higher up and began to climb a sloping tunnel. for several more days they traveled, always working upward, passing through bubbles of gradually diminishing diameter and sparser vegetation. at one point they waded through a shallow pond, at another they choked in a sulfury cloud of gas that hung about. they squeezed through ever tighter cracks, and the air began to get distinctly thinner and harder to breathe. they were both getting exhausted quite easily; robin knew they were nearing the surface and the spongy mass of the moon's interior was tightening. then at last they stood in a tiny spherical bubble and gazed at a pool of brackish water at one end. there were no cracks in this little cave, no further tunnel or means of progress. "what now?" asked robin, turning to his companion. had they taken the wrong turn and come to a dead end? korree went over to the water pool. he gestured at it, made motions of holding his breath. "we go down in here, move under and come up ... out." he waved a hand in a down-and-under gesture. robin looked into the water. maybe the glassie was right. it was possible that the water at the bottom passed into a fault and led into another cavern. but could he risk it? korree nodded and without another word, suddenly jumped into the water, spear and all, and vanished. robin waited. in a little while korree's head appeared again and the glassie climbed out. "tunnel over there," he said, waving beyond the wall of the bubble. "go up sharp." well, there was nothing to do but to try it. robin set down his pack and thought a moment. cheeky the monkey was scampering around the floor of the small bubble. robin took off his jacket and shoes, took out of his pocket anything that might be damaged by water, and leaped into the pool. it was an eerie sensation. the water was as dense as on earth but its weight was so much less. it seemed almost to lack substance as robin pushed through it, dived deep, and let himself come up again as far as possible. he broke water in total darkness. he was outside the cavern, but exactly where he could not tell. korree with his light organ had known and that was sufficient. robin reached for a bank, felt a sloping wall. he grabbed it, pulled himself up in the darkness. that much was right. there was a tunnel here running steeply upward. he sniffed the air. it was strange--breathable, but strange. this part of the moon enclosure was certainly cut off from the other sections, that was certain. robin let himself back into the water, swam for the cavern, and came up in it. he got hold of cheeky, opened his pack, and extracted his homemade space helmet. he stuffed the monkey into it, closed end upward, and got into the water again. moving swiftly under water, the terrified animal clutching the inside of the helmet, robin transferred him to the other side, found a small level section by probing around, and deposited the helmet. he returned for the rest of his pack by this method, and finally everything was complete again in the new passage. by the light of korree's head, he saw that they were in a narrow tunnel angling steeply upward. robin's clothes and the pack had dried with great speed in the thin air and the low gravity. they made their way up this passage with difficulty and at last found themselves facing a lighted opening. they emerged into a new cavern, but one quite different from those that had gone before. it was long, perhaps two or three miles long, but narrow, not more than a hundred feet or so at the widest. looking upward, the steep perpendicular walls seemed to come together and closed up tightly about a quarter of a mile high. a faint phosphorescence dimly lighted the new area. as they walked on, robin became aware that there was no vegetation here, that his feet were moving through light dust. he let it run through his fingers. it felt chalky as pumice. he looked around them again and then he realized that he had at last reached the surface of the moon. he was walking through the bottom of a long crack in the surface, a cleft that had somehow closed up again to preserve a cache of air. but this dust, this was the surface dust of luna, fallen to the bottom of the cleft! as they walked, the dimness seemed to diminish. a whitish glow began to envelop them. robin blinked at the strange light. things began to take on strange colorations that he had not noticed before. he looked upward and saw that the ceiling of the cleft no longer was bathed in blackness. instead there seemed a break there, a glassy glimmer through which poured a dazzling white light. somewhere up there the crack had been sealed by volcanic action into grayish natural glass. somewhere outside the sun was shining down upon the moon. its rays were bathing the surface above the concealed cleft and some were finding their way down. for the first time in many long and difficult months robin felt warmth and light together. he had reached the sunlight! _13. the sun and the trap_ there had been a distinct chill in the strange surface canyon, but from the moment that the white sunlight began to stream in, there was a definite warming effect. the rays were diffused by the substance above which sealed the cleft, yet the sun was strong while it lasted. robin felt good as he bathed in its rays. he looked at himself, at korree, in wonder. for the clear white light was the first normal lighting he had seen in all the time he had been marooned below. now he received the first true color visualization of himself and his companion. he saw from his hands that he had become very pale-skinned; all his normal tan had been lost in the cavern worlds. he unpacked the bright, gleaming space helmet and used it as a makeshift mirror. his hair had faded to a light blond, and there were several white hairs now visible, the result presumably of his period of exposure to the unshielded rays of the sun during his passage through space. in the clear light korree seemed even more transparent than ever, and indeed robin could make out the shadowy, pulsating shapes of his internal organs quite clearly--his skeleton standing out sharply. he realized how dim and abnormal the phosphorescence of the caverns had really been. reshouldering his pack, they continued up the deep canyon. in a little while, the gray ashy surface gave way to sandy soil and there was a dampness in the air that indicated the presence of one of the deposits of water. now the familiar lunar vegetation was making its presence known and before long they were wandering through a very dense thicket of huge ball-trees and plants. robin had never seen such a dense jungle growth on the moon before and he attributed it to the occasional bath of sunlight this one cavern received. it was like a hothouse, a natural one, more or less sealed with a high dampness, natural warmth augmented by screened sunlight. soon the two found themselves forcing their way single file through the growth, while cheeky swung into the tops and made his own way, happy in the sort of thick, warm forest his monkey nature demanded. robin pushed his way through first, with korree following in the path the earthling cleared. robin went on through the jungle, struggling in spite of his powerful earth muscles to push his pack along. after a while he stopped to rest, looked back. he saw behind him only the bruised and broken stalks of the ball-trees he'd passed through. there was no sign of korree. robin stared, but the forest was too thick to allow much vision. he set the pack down, called, "korree!" there was no answer. somewhere in the distance a stalk snapped. robin called again. still no answer. he started back a few steps, retracing his path, but there was still no sign of his glassie friend. he suddenly felt uneasy. what was going on here? how had his companion vanished? he went back to where he had left his pack, waited, again calling his friend's name. but still there was no answer. there were more crackling noises somewhere in the thick vegetation. perhaps korree was in trouble there? robin turned in that direction, started to push through the barrier of tree stalks. suddenly there was a rushing noise, a chorus of shrieks all around, and something heavy fell around him. he whirled, but something sticky and tight was encircling his body. he caught glimpses of glasslike, one-eyed faces jumping around him, hiding in the branches, shrieking. he struggled again to free himself but the encircling glassies threw more of the sticky ropes around him, more things like barrel staves that fell and tied him up. he struggled to use his full strength against them but his arms were pinned to his sides, he was tight amid the stalks and he could not brace himself. fight as he might, he was caught, and he saw that there were stalk-ropes attached to those that had trapped him and these were being further secured by the creatures around him. he stopped struggling, quieted. it was obviously no use to waste his strength. let's see what they intend to do next, he thought. for a while they did nothing. then his glassie captors--he still could see little of them so thick was the jungle--seemed to be working their way together so that all their attached ropes were soon leading off in the same direction. then they started to pull. had robin chosen to resist it might have become a fruitless tug of war, but he did not. he had decided that his best course was to go along with them. doubtless they would lead him to their village or at least to an open space where his great earth strength might then come into better play. for a while, therefore, he allowed himself to be led through the moontree forest, dragging himself enough to give his captors a workout. robin had cagily decided that the more tired they were when they finally arrived, the better for him. after a time the thicket of plants came to an end and robin found himself, as he had presumed, at the native settlement. unlike the ones he had seen in korree's home cavern, these glassies were cavemen. they evidently made their homes in a section of this narrow surface-cleft where one of the walls was greatly pocked with holes and openings. the cliff walls were apparently quite like pumice here. under the circumstances and because of the limited width of the area, it was quite logical that the inhabitants should have made use of these holes. there were several dozen such cave entrances and robin could see a fair number of glassies around them, including women and young ones. his captors, he now saw, numbered about fifteen, all male hunters like korree. they hustled him along to a central cave, whose entrance was decorated with blue circles, clearly the designation of their chief. korree was already there, tied, as was robin. he looked relieved to see the earthling, and also a little puzzled at seeing that robin too was a prisoner. "they catch me when robin not looking," he said, explaining the obvious. "i not like these glassies' ways. i think they mean kill." robin looked around at them. "we'll see. back in my land, we have a saying, 'there's many a slip between the cup and the lip.' i think we will get away. wait and watch." korree immediately showed relief. he had a profound faith in robin's magical abilities. to him, therefore, robin's lack of fright was enough evidence that all was really well. the band gathered before the chief's cave was waiting. presently a voice came from the cave darkness. it questioned one of the captors, who turned and repeated the query to korree. korree answered at length, and his answer in turn was repeated into the cave. at robin's query, korree said that he had just informed the hidden chief that robin was a great man-beast who would destroy them all if he was not immediately released and placated. more cave talk and interchange. there was a delay for a while and robin could faintly hear voices within the cave, as if the chief were discussing the matter with someone else. then a command was issued. the captors pulled on the ropes and urged korree and robin to the door of another cave. they pushed them into this and rolled a large boulder in front of the cave mouth to block their exit. it was dark inside the cave but not so dark that they could not see that it was about twenty feet long and that there were a number of piles of stuff around, food possibly, or remnants of things. korree and robin eased themselves down on the hard floor. robin studied the vegetable cords that bound him. he twisted his hands and pulled until he got his elbow up where he could exert pressure. then he strained against one of the bonds. in a few seconds it parted and broke. in this way he snapped bond after bond until he was free. he was sticky from them, for the stalks had been soaked in some sort of adhesive substance which had made them so effective. but the strength of earth muscles was more than they had ever held before. next robin went to work on korree's bonds and broke them off one by one. the two silently stretched their cramped bodies. korree glanced back at the dark end of the cave and his headlight organ glowed brightly for a moment. something among the bundles was stirring slightly. korree said quietly, "another prisoner or a listener?" robin looked. yes, there was something over there, apparently tied up also. it might be a glassie prisoner, or it might be some one of his captors trying to spy on them. he shrugged. let them try. they couldn't understand english. the two sat down near the entrance, conversed quietly. korree was of the opinion that the glassies would eventually kill them in some sort of ceremony. robin never had found out how different tribes of glassies acted toward each other. evidently they did not make war, but neither did they have much contact or exchange. in general, they treated each other like suspicious strangers, avoiding contact whenever possible. but it seemed now that when strangers did force their way into unwelcome tribal caverns, death was the result. this was fairly typical of the most primitive savages on earth and it was evidently a rule for that level of culture anywhere in the universe. for a while then they sat silently, thinking about their plight. robin, somehow, was not too worried. he had become so used to the superiority of his muscles that he felt that he could eventually manage his escape when the time came. the question was, where could he escape to? this particular region was not actually a part of the honeycomb of luna's interior--it was a cleft sealed in by a trick of volcanic fate on the very surface. probably it had no other exit than the one which led into it. again, escape though he might, could he save korree too? he thought about it in silence. korree broke the meditations. "have hunger. is food here?" "there must be some around," said robin, glancing back at the things in the rear of their prison-cave. the figure back there stirred a bit. and then there was a mumbling sound and a voice said something. the voice was deep and strong, unlike the sound of a glassie's tongue. but robin could not understand it. korree too looked and listened. "did you understand him?" robin asked his companion. korree shook his head. now at the sound of robin's words occurred the most astonishing surprise that robin had yet encountered. the unseen speaker spoke again: "who is that? is there someone here who speaks english?" it was a human voice! it spoke robin's language, though the intonation and accent were not quite right. robin and korree hastened back to the rear of their cave to the reclining figure of the speaker. in the light of korree's head-stalk, it was indeed a man, an earth man! he was lying, tied hand and foot, on a pile of scraps, but he was raising his head, staring at them eagerly. he was a young man, evidently not much older than robin. his blue eyes looked at them with relief and he smiled widely. "you are a human! i thought i was dreaming when i heard a voice i could understand. you must be an american ... then the americans must have beaten us here after all!" robin knelt down by the man, worked at his bonds. they were tight, real cord of nylon or some earth-made substance. it took the combined strength of the two of them to finally open the knots and free the man. "who are you?" robin asked, as he worked. "do you have a rocket on the surface?" the man got to his feet, rubbed his muscles. he was dressed in a simple blue one-piece flyer's coverall. he was taller and slimmer than robin, and his hair was tousled and reddish. "my name is piotr ivanovitch kareff," he said, bowing with a european gracefulness. "i regret to tell you that my rocket is indeed on the surface--but there it will stay forever. we crashed. but i am so glad to see you. you do not know how glad." robin shook hands. "i hate to disappoint you, but i must tell you that we are in the same predicament. i have no rocket here. i was hoping when i heard your voice that you might have one we could go back in." the other looked confused, shook his head. "no rocket? oh, that is too bad. very bad." the glassie, who had been watching them without understanding too much of the rapid-fire quality of normal speech, suddenly said, "have hunger much. is food here." he turned his back on the two men, pawed through the scraps on the cave floor, coming up with some of the provisions that robin had packed with him. "i'm hungry, also," said the russian. "they have not fed me since they threw me in here. is this stuff good to eat?" "try it," said robin and the three sat down and ate. robin sat munching and stared at the other man. the first human he had seen in almost two years. a real live man! but where did he come from? how did he get here? and how was it he was a prisoner? for a while after they had finished, they looked at each other. the russian spoke. "you must have a story to tell me, robin carew. how did you say you got here?" robin briefly outlined what had happened to him, the other listening attentively. when robin had finished, he asked, "now i want to know about you? it's your turn." "yes," said piotr, "i shall tell you." _14. the man from lake baikal_ "i was an orphan of world war ii," said piotr ivanovitch kareff in a quiet voice, speaking precise english with a fair fluency. "my family were all vanished, i know not what happened to them. i was brought back to russia by our soldiers and sent to a state school in the urals set up to take care of such as myself. "there i was a good scholar and i made myself good marks. when i was old enough, i qualified for study at a higher institute and was sent to a college for engineers. i was always interested in astronomy and rocket aviation and i was therefore trained along those lines. "when i was eighteen, i was allowed to continue my engineering education as a part of my military duty. i was in the army, yet still studying, only this time i was stationed at one of the big experimental centers we have deep in siberia. you probably do not know about them. they are very secret. "the one i was at was located near the shores of lake baikal, the big inland sea in central asia near mongolia. this was the biggest center for the study of liquid-fuel rockets. while i learned the theory, i also worked on the actual projects and helped fire many of our big rockets. these were designed after the german v-_2, the same designs you americans are also building on. we, too, had captured german scientists who had worked on these. they had much to show us, and one of the smartest of these men was the captain von borck who even became a member of the party or so he said. "i am not a political man, i am really interested in rockets, so i did not pay too much attention to these things. von borck may be truly believing what he desires, i do not know, but i think he is just what you call an opportunity seeker. "after my army service, i chose to remain at the lake baikal station as a regular engineer. i worked on the thousand-mile rockets, and finally on the satellite rockets, and i helped get them up there. it was a nice race with you americans. we knew a little of your plans--those you publish in the papers--and we always were urged to beat you. sometimes we did. sometimes you beat us. "at our centers we made a game of this. it was serious to our country, but to us, men of science, all discoveries by human beings are great things. we liked to think of our work as a great game of mental chess with you americans--with the pieces on the board carefully hidden from sight and reported only through guesswork and bad witnesses. "when the satellites were up and flying their orbits around the earth, yours and ours, the next game was obviously to race for the moon. should we plant the red flag there, or you the stars and stripes? so we worked at that. we did not this time know what you were doing. maybe you had different ideas. "so van borck discovered a means of using atomic explosions in a steady rocket stream and explained the principle. we worked on this motor a while and finally the ministry ordered the building of one rocket which could fly to the moon with this super-powerful engine. at first our commander at the base said it should be a robot-piloted model, but moscow did not want that. they wanted that men should go on that first trip. they wanted that a soviet man should be first to reach the moon. "they did not know about you, robin, and your stowaway trip! ha! but even the americans do not apparently know about you, alas for both of us!" piotr stopped a moment, got to his feet, went to the door of the cave and listened. he came back. "no one there watching us. i go on," he said. "so finally was built a big rocket with the first atomic explosive engine. von borck himself was going to go in it as its engineer. but von borck was not really a soviet man, and i do not think moscow was happy about it. so they allowed for the ship to have a three-man crew. i was selected, because i am young and quick and have a good record, and also maybe because i have no family to be sorry i not come back maybe. arkady pavlovitch zverin was the third, who was also an orphan. "came a day when the big rocket was complete and ready. we said good-by to our friends and at the right time we went up the ladder and into our big rocket. that day, which seems to me so long ago, must have been not even a week ago yet! "we took off perfectly, we blasted for ten minutes--i thought my head would burst--and we were on our way. von borck piloted it, but there was really little to do. when it came time to reverse the rockets and make our landing, we had trouble. our gyroscope control was stuck and we had to fight with it by hand to move it. this made a delay and when we did get our jets reversed and working, our timing was off. von borck struggled to slow us up and come to a real stop, but we were a little too fast. we came down blasting away, and we hit very hard. "the rocket was partly smashed. the engines and tubes all crushed. the nose was badly jarred and poor arkady was killed by the impact. von borck, too, was thrown from his seat, knocked unconscious on the floor of our little cabin. i was badly bruised, but i remained conscious. "fortunately for us, the little cabin remained airtight. when all was still, i looked over what happened. i looked outside. we were in a large crater, whose bottom was crisscrossed with cracks. one of these, running into the distance, was quite glassy and i saw that something like steam was issuing from a point near it. this meant to me that somewhere underneath the surface there might be a place with air and water. "i had at first thought all was lost and i would remain in the little cabin until the air was used up or the food gave out. this would be only a few days. but i thought that any chance, however little, was better than no chance. so i managed to get to the locker and get out two space suits. one i put on von borck who was still unconscious, but whom i could not leave behind. the other i got into myself. "i took the german over my shoulder and managed to get out of the ship through the lock which was still intact. carrying my companion--it was easy, he was so light on the moon--i explored the cracks near where the ship fell. i found a way leading down and even a series of very natural air locks--a most unusual development. "passing through many caves and tunnels i made my way and finally got to this one. von borck had regained consciousness but he was not in his right senses. he was talking nonsense. he believed--i do not know how to put it--he was the king of the trolls. he thought he was somewhere in--fairyland or hell or some supernatural place. he did not remember the trip. "when we first met these moon people--you call them glassies--von borck said they were his trolls. he killed four of them with his own hands and the rest became afraid of him, thought him a god or demon come to rule them. he let me alone a little while, then he seized me, tied me up himself, and put me here. "i am afraid that he plans to sacrifice us. he is completely crazy and he has these glassies obeying him. i am sorry for us." piotr stopped talking. he looked at korree appraisingly. robin understood his intention. "i'm afraid that korree won't have any influence with these glassies. they are a different tribe." robin rubbed his hands a bit. "i really think we should be able to escape, even so. we now outnumber von borck two to one and i think if we pick our time we could manage to make a getaway. we'll have to be careful. do you think you could get back to your rocket on the surface?" the russian nodded. "i guess we could. i was planning to go back from the start." "is there anything there we could use to signal the earth with?" asked robin. "a radio, flares, mirrors?" piotr nodded. "we had speaker-radio equipment, but it was smashed in the landing. it was the first thing i tried after we hit. but we do have flares. we could signal with them." "i imagine," said robin, "that both the americans and russians must be working on moon rockets now. if we can signal back there, the next rocket along might come to this crater and find us." "good," said the russian rocketeer. "only how do we get to the surface? i have a space suit, which is probably in von borck's cave. von borck must have a suit too, if we can find it, though i think it will be much too big for you." robin explained about his homemade space suit. piotr was quite impressed. the suit which was packed in robin's big sack was in the prison cave where it had been thrown and they unpacked it. piotr examined the helmet with interest. "very good. it might work. it seems airtight." "i tested it under water," said robin. "it didn't leak any bubbles." the russian nodded. "but i don't believe your big bag of air would work. how would you blow it up in the first place? i think you would have had a hard time anyway. but fortunately there are three oxygen tanks on my own suit. i can detach one for your use." he nodded, looking over the homemade helmet. in the half light of the cave robin looked at his new friend with interest. there was something about his face which struck an odd chord in robin's mind. something about him brought back faint, almost forgotten memories, dim frightening memories of bombs exploding, of falling buildings, of a frightened child, and great loss. robin suddenly asked, "how did you learn to speak english so well?" piotr looked up. "i was wondering when you would ask that. i always knew english, i spoke it as a little child. when i was found by the soldiers in dresden, i was but a little boy, maybe six or seven. i spoke some german, but mostly i spoke english. they could find no sign of my parents, my family, so they took me back to russia with them. i studied english too in school, but i always knew it." robin started, his heart pounding very strangely. "where did you get your name? that's russian." the other stared at him hard. "no, it's not. my name--piotr ivanovitch kareff--means peter the son of john kareff." robin was sure he knew now, but he doggedly insisted on his next question. "my father's name was also john. john carew. and how do you spell your last name?" "why," said peter, a curious smile beginning to force its way to his lips, "just like it's pronounced in russia--kareff--c-a-r-e-w--kareff." and at the same instant, tears of joy sprang uncontrollably to their eyes and the two brothers grabbed each other, laughing and pounding one another's back in wild reunion. korree stared uncomprehendingly at the curious sight of two earth men apparently taken leave of their senses. _15. getaway bomb_ after they had recovered from their outburst of enthusiasm the two let go of each other and sat down out of breath. "well, this is really amazing," said robin finally. "here i have to go to the moon to find my brother. you know i really do not remember very much." "of course not. you could not have been more than four years old when we parted. i was about three years older, i guess. perhaps we can put what we do know together and find out what did happen. i know that father and mother were interned in germany by the nazis. that when the war was nearing its end, the germans started to move them and other prisoners around. in the confusion, we were stranded somewhere and there was heavy bombardment going on. i lost you and mom and dad somewhere, wandered by myself for many days. i was with a band of russian people who had been taken to germany by the nazis to do slave labor. they were making their way back to their homes and i clung to them. so the soviet army simply counted me among its own orphans and took me back. but maybe you know more about our family?" peter looked expectantly at his younger brother. robin nodded. "i don't remember what happened. i was too young. i only remember being terribly frightened and alone and things going bang. when i was older i looked up the orphanage records. it seems that dad had been some sort of business agent in germany and when the u.s. got into the war he was interned along with mom and the two of us. evidently they were killed in some sort of bombardment at the war's end and i was the only one who survived. you are listed as having been killed with them, according to the american army report." korree was moving restlessly during this conversation, not understanding very much of it. now he pulled at robin's sleeve, pointed. "look. cheeky come." sure enough robin's simian pet had finally found them. evidently having easily avoided capture by the glassies, the little animal had been searching for his master. now his little head appeared around the edge of the big rock that sealed their cave. at a whistle from robin, cheeky pushed his way through the narrow gap and scampered to his friend. peter watched the monkey with interest. "i wonder if we can't make use of your pet to help us get out of here," he said. "we really ought to start thinking of escape. i don't know when von borck will take the notion to start something bad." "well, let's start planning it out," said robin. "first, we ought to see what we have to work with. i think that the glassies simply threw everything i had with me in here too. that should make things fairly simple. what did they have of yours?" they went over to the pile of things, with korree along to light the way, and examined it. everything was present. of peter's property, his space suit was there, intact, with its three shoulder oxygen tanks. robin picked up a gun belt that had evidently been part of the outfit, but the holster was empty. peter commented, "von borck took it when he turned on me. he is armed also." but robin noticed that the german rocket pilot had evidently not thought to take the pack of additional pistol ammunition that was clipped to the belt. he withdrew a clip and turned it over, then said: "we should be able to use these to start a diversion of some sort. if we can get their attention elsewhere, we can easily push aside the rock that seals our cave and make a run for it. we ought not to wait for von borck to make up his mind." "ah yes," said his brother. "there is good gunpowder in those bullets. we could make a small bomb for a fuse or a display." "i think a bomb will do the trick. let's get at it." robin suited his action to the words. he sat down, spread a clean piece of cloth he found among peter's property on the floor and began to pull the cartridges apart and gently shake out the powder. back on earth, such a job would have been hard without instruments and great force. here on the moon, it was not easy but their strength enabled them to twist off the metal rims. soon they had a neat little pile of explosive powder gathered together. this they packed into a small glass tube among peter's explorational equipment until it was tight and filled the space. they twisted a dry fiber until it was cordlike and rolled it in a little remaining powder till it was thoroughly blackened. this they inserted in the end of the tube as a fuse. "now we should get our stuff together and get ready," said robin. "i don't think it would be a good idea to go back the way i came in; we'd just be cutting ourselves off. the idea is to reach your rocket on the surface. which way did you come?" peter indicated the opposite direction. "i came in through a hole rather high in the wall, came down here along a narrow ledge. i can find it again, i think." "then let's get into our equipment and get ready," said robin. he began to load his huge pack again, but peter intervened. "you really can leave some of that behind now," he said. "make it easier to move fast. besides we've got some narrow places to squeeze through on our way to the surface. i'd suggest leaving most of the food behind. take enough for a couple of meals more. you'll only need your space helmet and space clothes." peter was climbing into his space suit, an airtight rubberized affair with electric heating grids. this on, he put on his space helmet for the sake of convenience, though he left the little panel of the face window open. robin slung his own helmet from his shoulder--its vision plate, being homemade, was fixed in place. when they were ready, they went over to the entrance and peeked through the narrow, open space. "why, it's dark outside!" said robin. where before the deep cleft had been lighted by the white light of the outside sun, now it was dark. it was not as dark as the bubble-caverns below had been, for a faint light still penetrated down from the ceiling. they could make out the darker shadows of the surrounding growth, and the glassies outside were moving figures each illuminated by a small circle of light from their head stalks. "evidently the sun is going down on the moon's surface," said peter. "it was low on the horizon when my rocket arrived. i wonder how cold it will get in this place?" "it seems to be a little colder already," said robin. "this may bring von borck out of his cave to see what's happening." robin called to korree, explained what they were about to do. then while korree kept a hand on cheeky, the two earthlings leaned their shoulders against the big boulder and pushed it aside easily--an effort which would have blocked moon muscles. korree had dimmed his headlight and the two men kneeled down and carefully lighted the fuse of their bomb with robin's flint and steel. the end of the fiber sputtering, robin took cheeky and pressed the glass vial into the monkey's paws. "over there," he whispered to the monkey urgently, and pointed a finger to the darkness opposite the direction in which they would be heading. "take it over there and leave it," he whispered. he'd often taught cheeky to fetch and carry, and he hoped the animal would obey. it did. grabbing the glass tube with its smoking fuse, the monkey dashed off into the darkness. "i hope he remembers to drop it and come back," said robin. peter nodded. "let's get started." the men and korree started slowly out of the cave. there was a very faint dimness about them, a starlight glow that was just enough to distinguish the presence of objects. they moved slowly, avoiding the telltale lights of passing glassies. korree kept his own stalklight dark. suddenly the peace and darkness were split by a sharp, violent explosion somewhere behind them. immediately following was a screeching, recognizable as the sound of an angry monkey and almost as frightening. for an instant there was stunned silence and then pandemonium broke loose. glassies came running in all directions, slamming into each other, not knowing what had happened. some were running away from the noise, some were running to investigate the terrible bang, and others were simply running for cover in the caves. in the mad helter-skelter, robin and peter and korree ran as fast as they could to the far end of the cleft. they dodged tree stalks, pushed through other patches, stumbled occasionally over obstacles, but carried on. robin noticed even as he ran that the vegetation was already drying up and dying rapidly. the cessation of sunlight had probably been quite abrupt as the sun had sunk behind whatever crater walls made up the horizon above them. evidently the growth here was geared to a short, heavy life and sudden death. over the frightened, high-pitched voices of the glassies, robin now heard another sound, the roaring voice of a man. von borck had been brought out. he was yelling something, shouting angrily. peter called to robin as they dashed along. "he's trying to get them to order. he knows we did it. but they don't understand him." on they ran. now behind them they heard some signs of pursuit. evidently peter was overoptimistic. somehow von borck must have managed to get the glassies to realize his meaning. hitting some and shoving others, he had clearly gotten a few, who were still in awe of his "magic," to follow him. they could hear the sounds of stalks cracking far behind them as they ran. but they had a good head start. robin had been hanging on to korree's arm, dragging him with him in huge, leaping steps. but as they dashed on, he realized that peter was slowing his own steps to accommodate and that the sounds of von borck's rush behind them were beginning to be louder. korree evidently realized this too. "leave me," he gasped. "i make out." with a twist he slipped out of robin's hand and ran into the darkness. "wait!" yelled robin after him, stopping. but peter turned back, grabbed his brother. "he's right. he'll be better off here. we couldn't get him to the surface anyway. come on! quick!" with a sudden lurch of his heart and lump in his throat robin recognized the truth of this. he grabbed peter's hand and the two of them started off faster than ever, heading for the far wall in huge earthborn leaps. it was an eerie experience dashing madly along in the near blackness of the cleft. the faint glow which came from above, probably only the light of a million million faraway stars, filtered through the curious translucent material of the cleft top, serving only to make patches of blackness against patches of even greater blackness. far behind them a faint flickering indicated the movements of the natives. now and then a startling flicker would prove the presence of some startled moonworm, uncovered as a stalk was thrown over in the rush. behind them they could hear a crashing and every now and then a shouted word. robin wondered what was being said, but peter, sensing his wonder, gasped out, "he's shouting ... the word for devils! when ... he came to ... he believed himself ... in some sort ... of troll kingdom ... with me ... as a ... devil." "crazy! stark raving mad!" shouted robin back. on they went. the helmet banging against robin's back made him feel clumsy and odd, yet he moved through the air with the agility of a phantom. now, suddenly, there loomed a dark wall before them and they caught themselves back just in time to keep from smashing headlong into it. "the wall!" shouted robin. peter pulled his arm, started hurrying along to one side. he gave a sharp cry of relief, pulled robin to him. "here we are, the ledge. go on up!" peter started off. robin followed as fast as was possible. there was evidently a thin ledge running up the side of the cave. in places it was a gentle slope angling upward, in other parts there was a sudden step. in their haste there was no time to pick and choose their steps. several times robin tripped, almost falling, but he had built up such a momentum that he simply slammed and banged over the obstacles, charging up the ledge with a luck and agility that would have made a mountain goat jealous. behind them, at the base of the cliff, they now heard von borck's roaring. "_teufel!_" he was calling. then suddenly from where the madman stood, there beamed out a flash of yellow light. a flashlight, thought robin, he had a flash. the beam passed rapidly over the cave wall seeking the escapers. once or twice they froze against the side as it passed over them, dashing on as soon as it was gone. then von borck's light caught them, held them. "keep running," yelled peter, "it's not far now!" the two kept up. then there was a sharp report below them and something went _spang_ on the rock wall near robin. a bullet ... the mad rocket pilot was firing at them. now they simply raced on, ignoring the german's wild shots. "here we are!" gasped peter and seemed to melt right into the cliff face. robin saw the black opening in the next second and tumbled into it, to be caught by his brother's arms. for an instant they stood there in the darkness, catching their breath. then a light appeared in peter's hand, and robin saw that he held an electric torch there, part of his space-suit equipment. the beam illuminated a narrow, dark tunnel leading steeply upward apparently through the solid rock. "this way!" said peter and started off. robin followed him on into the narrow path that would lead him at long last to the surface of the moon. _16. on the crater floor_ the tunnel was very narrow, a mere crack in the wall, and robin was hard put to squeeze through in a couple of spots. but it was not too long and, in a few minutes, robin felt from the change in air and echo that it had opened out into a wider area. peter's flash confirmed this. they were in a small air-pocket bubble several yards wide. they crossed this while peter searched along the floor. he stopped, pointed down. "we go down again, through this hole in the floor. there's a short drop of only a few feet, but be careful." peter stepped over to the hole, sat down, and eased himself out of sight. robin looked down, could see the floor of another cave just below. he dropped his pack through and squeezed down. here they were in a sort of shallow flaw running lengthwise, and they had to walk in a crouched position to keep their heads from bumping the low ceiling. robin wondered how peter knew which way to go, but looking carefully, he realized that his brother was only following the trail of his footsteps made on arriving--for there was a thin coating of dust on this floor that showed the trail. "how did you ever find this passage?" asked robin, his voice echoing flat and high in the passage. "saw the sealed cleft top running across the bottom of this crater. found a spot near it where some sort of gas was hissing out. went down it, and simply followed every lead that pointed in the direction of the cleft." robin knew that behind this reply undoubtedly lay a lot of sweat and agony. peter had made the trip carrying an unconscious body with him! the low passage ended in a small cave-bubble. a break at the top of this was the next line of direction. peter had simply dropped down on his arrival, but they waited to catch their breath. they would have to jump for it. "do you suppose von borck is following us?" asked robin while waiting. peter shook his head. "i doubt it. first, we'd probably have been able to hear him coming. second, he'd still know enough to go get his space suit before following us. third, he won't remember anything of this trip and will have to find his way." rested, robin gave peter a boost, hoisting him as high as he could to the top of the cave-bubble. peter jumped the short distance remaining, catching a grip on the edge of the hole in the cave ceiling. he pulled himself up, then dropped his nylon cord down for robin to grasp and help himself up. up above there was still another small bubble, broken on one side. a whole series of broken bubbles lay revealed, and they walked along this section gingerly. this area was greatly cracked and seamed. it was clear to them that there was a possibility of a fall-in. beyond that group they came to another break leading upward, and again they moved on. now robin found himself breathing very heavily. "i'm getting very tired," he gasped at last. peter stopped. they were still in the break and a severe slope was rising before them. "it's the air pressure. it's getting quite low already. you've been used to the low pressure of the bubbles below, as you tell me, but we are close to the surface and the limited amount of air sealed in this particular bubble-system is thinning beyond the safety point. we'll have to go slow and rest often. i don't want to have to use our oxygen supplies until we are at the limit of our natural abilities." robin finally caught his breath, felt power returning. now the two pushed on, going very carefully and slowly, with rests every few steps. the steep rise ended at a narrow opening. peter paused here, motioned to robin to join him. "this is the crisis point," he said. "listen." robin strained his ears. he was aware of the pounding of his heart struggling for oxygen. he was aware of a ringing in his ears from the low pressure. but now he heard over that a thin whistling, a high, steady rustling whistle coming from somewhere across the narrow, long cave he was looking in upon. "what is it?" he whispered. "a most unusual phenomenon," whispered peter back. "the only thing that keeps the air in all this subterranean region from being sucked away to the surface. it's a volcanic current of hot gas, racing through this long channel at tremendous speed. it must come up from somewhere in the still-warm interior; it must be rushing to some vast cold spot below. but it serves as an effective curtain cutting off the stale air on this side from the near-vacuum of the surface. its density, velocity, and heat perform the miracle." peter shone the lamp across and down the cave. the passage cleared a long, tunnellike channel which ran down into darkness on one side and away into equal darkness on the other. only a few yards across from them he could see the gray surface of the wall. there seemed to be nothing else except the whistling noise. "edge along the wall here carefully," said peter, and started off. he kept one shoulder rubbing the wall near them and walked carefully down the passage. robin edged out, following him closely. he felt no movement of air, yet he detected a faint trace of warmth on his outer side. somewhere, invisible to him, that cataract of volcanic air was flowing. was it a few feet or a fraction of an inch? he could not tell. the wall bellied wider a little, allowing a chance to get farther away from the unseen wind. peter was waiting here. "i think we'd better adjust our space equipment now. we have a short way to go, then we'll have to fight our way across that air blast. there's an opening to the surface at one point nearby. once we cross the wind and get to it, we'll be outside." robin let down his pack. peter examined robin's equipment again, looking worried. he shook his head once or twice. "i hope it works out all right, but some changes will have to be made." he took the big bladder robin had constructed as an air bag. "this won't work, but it will come in handy in a different way." he took robin's pocket knife and began to cut the big sack apart to make thin long strips of leather. when he had finished with that, he looked over at robin and said: "now you'll have to wind these strips around you as tight as you can. begin as high up on your chest as possible, and go on down. wind them around your arms and legs, around your fingers, if possible. don't undress, but wind the strips over your clothes. make them tight. i'll help you." as they worked to do so, peter explained further. "having an air helmet is not enough for space. the pressure of your blood and the gases in your system will make it impossible for you to breathe or move, if your body is not tightly encased. a real space suit like mine is pressurized, built with a layer of air pockets all over, which increase their pressure in proportion to the decrease outside. but if you don't have this pressure, even having air around your head will not help. so make those bandages tight, as tight as you can without stopping your breathing completely." they worked on, winding the leather around and around, until robin felt as if he were being encased in a strait jacket, felt like a living mummy. strips were wrapped around his fingers under his gloves, his gloves fitting over them and further strapped. next peter strapped one of his three oxygen tanks to robin's back. "i hope this will work well enough to keep you breathing until we reach the rocket. fortunately you made your helmet deep enough to come down far over your shoulders. i can work this air tube up high enough for you to grasp the end in your mouth. the air will force its way into your lungs. you'll have to struggle to force your exhalation out of your nose. it's difficult, especially the first time, but you'll have to cope with it." as he held the helmet preparatory to putting it over robin's head, he gave him some last-minute instructions. "we won't be able to communicate once i get this on you. you've no radio and your mouth will be full anyway. so listen carefully. "the rocket is about a hundred yards away. i'll lead the way, and i'll tie this cord around your waist so you won't lose me. follow me as close as you can. there's a possibility that your glass plate may fog up or ice over from the water vapor inside your helmet. if it does, hang on to the cord and keep moving after me! but don't stop ... and don't give up! all set?" robin's heart was beating fast, he felt strange and stifled in his bindings. this was the zero instant. he nodded, held out his hand. peter grasped it, shook it. "when you're all set, follow me across the wind stream. it's powerful--don't let it throw you." robin put the end of the air tube in his mouth. peter pushed the homemade helmet down over his head, secured it tightly, almost painfully, until no space was left for air to escape. then peter reached behind robin to the small tank strapped there and turned a petcock. instantly robin started to choke as he felt something being rammed down his lungs. he caught himself, recognizing that his lungs were being forcibly inflated. he struggled to get control of his diaphragm to expel the excess air pressure. he managed finally to do so, feeling a whiff of air rush through his nostrils. he fought a bit more with the unpleasant current, felt himself getting a grip on it. through the plate of his helmet he saw peter watching him anxiously. then peter rapidly tied the nylon cord around his own waist, let it out a few feet, and tied the other end around robin's. peter snapped shut the visor of his own helmet, touched the air controls of his own suit, and nodding to robin, stepped out into the tunnel. robin followed closely, conscious of the tight, restricting bands, still fighting the unpleasant pressure of the air tube blowing down his lungs. peter walked a few steps, pointed a gloved hand across the passage, shone his light. there was a narrow black gap across there. through it robin caught a glimpse of bright white specks--the stars! then peter made a dash, seemed to be picked up by a giant hand and whirled wildly across the passage. the cord tightened and robin jumped into the space to avoid being pulled off his feet. he was struck at once by a terrific onrush. a hot, violent blast slammed into him. he lost his footing, felt himself being hurled headlong into a furious tornado. the cord leaped out, and peter pulled on it hard. robin swung about, fetched up against the other side of the wall of the cave with a bang, was pulled to his feet before he had even started to fall, and was propelled right through the gap in the wall. suddenly all was still. the whistling of the wind, the roar of the current as it struck him, had vanished. only the sucking and rushing of the oxygen in his own helmet could be heard. he was outside, on the surface of the moon at last! the gap opened from the wall of a cliff. above him, the cliff soared to become a mountainous edge of a deep, wide crater. he turned his head, but peter was impatient. he felt the pull of the cord, turned and followed peter, who was moving away from the crater wall in long, low strides, strides that ate up distance like an earthly giant in seven-league boots. robin adjusted his pace, followed closely. for a while he forgot his personal danger and simply gazed around at the fabulous moonscape. the crater's other wall was maybe a dozen miles away, but the thin air--the almost indetectably tenuous air that clustered at the bottom of this crater made the distance seem nothing. he could even make out details of the far edge. and yet this section of the moon was in the night-time. the sun had passed it by. it should have been dark, pitch-dark, by the logic of the interplanetary space. yet it wasn't. everything instead was bathed in a cold greenish-blue light that covered the surface like the glow of a half-dozen full moons. he looked up. directly in the center of the sky overhead was the source of the radiation. a great glowing ball of green and blue and white, a ball with a misty aura surrounding it, a globe that struck robin instantly as familiar. it was the earth. the home world, seen in all its glory, a giant full-moon earth, continents and islands clearly outlined, a glory of pale colors, poles agleam with dazzling white ... it was a sight that momentarily stopped robin in his tracks, hypnotized with wonder. the cord pulled him out of it, and on he dashed, looking about him in the pale earthlight. the surface was thick with cosmic dust, here and there the rounded domelike surface of a congealed volcanic bubble. cracks crossed and crisscrossed the surface, and peter and he had to bound across many of them. he saw rising slightly above the surface a long rill of whitish substance, racing across the crater bottom. with a start he realized that that must be the glasslike roof of the great cleft he had so recently escaped from. above, the sky was nearly black and myriad stars shone bright from the distance. the outlines of the surrounding mountains walled in the two boys as if they were pygmy boxers in a gargantuan ring. robin was forcing the air from his nostrils, allowing the oxygen to rush into his lungs. he began now to feel the first faint chill of surrounding space. he realized that it must already be nearly a hundred and fifty below zero on the surface, probably even much more than that. he had to keep moving, keep moving. but it was getting colder. he felt the cold penetrate him as his suit radiated the warmth that was in it. now he wondered what was happening outside. something was obscuring his view. was it mist he was passing through? he had heard of mist on the moon's surface, but he had seen none when he had first emerged. yet his vision was being obscured more and more by a cloudiness. he strained his eyes, suddenly realized that the mist was not outside, it was inside! the slight amount of vapor inside his helmet was beginning to frost up on the inside of his face plate. what peter had feared was beginning to happen. robin missed his footing, stumbled, not having seen the little ridge they had passed. peter, now barely visible ahead of him, had not stopped. robin felt the cord tighten as he slowed down, uncertain of where his feet were landing. he began to feel groggy, realized that he was becoming frightened. he gritted his teeth on the unpleasant air tube, said to himself, _get a hold on, stay firm. only a few more steps to go. hang on! hang on!_ he conquered his panic. blind or not, he would keep on until he passed out. the face plate was now solid white, completely opaque. he stumbled on, allowing the tight cord to direct him, pull him. on and on, the journey seemed endless. running, jumping, and bouncing, his feet banging against unseen rocks, hitting into cracks, kicking out, flying through space in bounds of blind horror. it was a nightmare such as he'd never dreamed. then, as he came down hard and banged into something, he felt his helmet slip a little, jog slightly. there was a _whish_ and suddenly his face plate cleared completely. at the same instant he felt as if his eyes would pop, while something snatched at his nose and sucked the breath from him. through the clear plate he caught a wild glimpse of a large metallic structure sticking up out of the ground. the russian rocket, he thought wildly. it was big like a huge bullet, gleaming brightly and polished. he saw it nearing him, realized he was being dragged along by peter. he realized also that his helmet had slipped a gap, that the air within had been sucked out, that the water vapor clogging his face plate had been snatched out with it, and that his face was exposed. but the oxygen tube was still in his mouth, still forcing air into him, and his nostrils were having it sucked out almost as fast. somehow the thin stream of air rushing from the helmet kept his face from all the rigors of vacuum. his eyes were bulging and paining, he felt his nose spraying blood and a red film kept clogging the face plate and being snatched away by the escaping air. then as he realized he could no longer stand the agony, he felt himself grabbed under the shoulders, hoisted up, shoved into a small dark space and felt through his fingers the clang of a metal door. there came a hissing noise, and as consciousness at last oozed away from him, he knew that they had reached the air lock of the soviet rocket and that his ordeal was over. _17. moon calling earth_ the impression of a damp cloth moving gently over his face was robin's first sensation on recovering his senses. he opened his eyes to find peter leaning over him, carefully mopping away the soreness from his nose and face. robin's eyes hurt and he blinked several times, each time feeling their rawness. "easy does it," said peter, smiling. "your eyes are very bloodshot, but fortunately there's no real damage. you couldn't have been exposed to the outside for more than a few seconds. nosebleed's stopped, too." robin raised his head, feeling a little dizzy and weak at first. he was lying in a hammock slung across the narrow space of the rocket's tiny cabin. he took in the limited quarters slowly, while flexing his muscles to discover other points of sensitivity. his clothing had been removed, the tight bandaging unwrapped. he was wearing some sort of loose aviation coverall that his brother had dressed him in. "have i been out long?" robin asked, rising to a sitting position. "maybe a half-hour," said his brother. "mostly shock and overexertion, i guess. you've got some bruises on your shins and feet, but nothing that should stop you. feel like some hot food? real earth food?" robin was suddenly hungry and the memories of a hundred forgotten foods flooded his senses. he nodded, and greedily attacked the full mess kit that his brother had been heating. it contained merely some sort of frankfurter, some canned potato, a chunk of black bread, and a cup of something that must have been condensed cabbage soup ... but to robin it was the best banquet he'd had in many months. for the first time he ate meat that wasn't rabbit or a moon creature, vegetable that wasn't moontree fruit. his tongue reveled in the flavors. a glass of hot tea was the final sensation. refreshed, he looked around. the little cabin, occupying the entire nose of the rocket, must have been a tight squeeze indeed for a three-man crew. the controls and the pilot's seat occupied a good section of it. there was space for only two hammocks, which were obviously not to be spread out except when taking off or sleeping, and peter was rolling up the one in which robin had been resting. there was a built-in electric grid, a nozzle from which water was piped, a large number of observational and recording instruments, a couple of folding seats, nothing much else. several thick glass bull's-eye windows were set in a circle around the nose, at a level with the pilot's eyes. light came from one large electric bulb hanging in the nose of the ship. the whole cabin was tilted over at an angle, the result of the crash. "i'm surprised that everything is in such good condition," said robin. "i had expected to see a complete ruin." "well," said peter, "i've got to admit that von borck was definitely a good pilot. the crash was probably not his fault. we were actually not supposed to land. our orders were to try to circle the moon in a narrow orbit, then return. we were to land only if von borck was sure he could do it and get away again. "what happened though was that after we had crossed the dividing line in space where the moon's pull equaled the earth's pull, our gyroscopic controls jammed. von borck couldn't turn the rockets in our rear to the indicated direction. we struggled with the gyro for about forty minutes, even going outside to get at the airless tube section beneath this sealed cabin. when we finally got the controls operating, it was far too late to attempt to establish an orbit. instead, von borck did the next best thing--he decided to attempt a direct landing. he reversed the rocket entirely, slowed us down and came down in an effort to land on his jets. it's a very difficult balancing trick, especially on an unknown landing field with uncertain distances. "actually he almost succeeded. he came down just a little too fast, smashed up our tubes, rammed the whole rear down into the pumice-and-dust surface, leaving our nose cabin sticking out unharmed. von borck slammed his head against the metal paneling. i took a spill, and arkady who had volunteered to stand at the opposite observation port from the pilot in order to inform him of any dangers from that side was thrown across the room and killed." robin nodded slowly. "but why didn't you just stay here instead of going out?" peter went to a wall cabin, opened it. inside there were about a half-dozen small containers and cans. "that's the whole stock of food we have left," was the reply. "we couldn't have stayed here too long. when i looked around outside i saw mist issuing from that spot in the cliff we came through. obviously we'd die if we didn't find some place to stay. i went outside, buried arkady, explored a little, realized that that rill out there was a sealed cleft which probably held air. so i loaded von borck, who had been unconscious for hours, and set out to go underground." robin got up, walked around. he was already in better shape. he looked at the panels, found them complex and with the markings in russian. "what's the source of the electricity?" he asked. "there's an atomic pile somewhere in the rear of the rocket," peter replied. "that's something you don't smash easily. it's still operating." "can we send a message back to earth then?" asked robin. "if we've the power, and this ship must have a radio...." "we tried that, but the radio was smashed in the landing. however, there is an emergency wave sender which was designed for just such a thing. i don't know if that's working. let's see." peter opened a door set in the floor of the rocket which opened on an area jammed with equipment, wiring, and extra supplies. he reached around, extracted a small black box. he held it up, shook it gently. handing it to robin, he took out a roll of wire, and seating himself at the pilot's seat began to connect the box to the rocket. when it was plugged in to the electric system of the cabin, peter flicked a switch and turned a knob. a thin humming came from the box. "it works," he said. "this gives off a steady signal wave going on the general air-travel band. the radio buzz can be heard from earth if it's being sought. by following it, astronomers can trace exactly where this rocket is. all we have to do is leave this on--it will run for years on our atomic power source. eventually, rockets will locate us." "but surely there must be some way of calling their attention even sooner?" said robin. "do you have flares?" "you're right," peter said excitedly. "we've got them. and it is night outside. if we use our flares, they could be seen on any decent-sized telescope. shall we set them off?" robin nodded. "no time like now." peter reached again into the floor storages, opening another section, and began to pull out another space suit. "this was arkady's," he said. "it should fit you." it did. this time, robin felt none of the uneasiness that had assailed him on his previous experience on the outside. in a few minutes, he and peter were standing a short distance away from the rocket and setting out the flares. although the suit was cumbersome, it was not too uncomfortable. instead of tight bandaging, the fabric of the suit consisted of some sort of self-inflating air sacs, which maintained an equal and natural pressure on the surface of robin's body. the helmet, which was really airtight and warmed, was entirely comfortable, although again the breathing was a matter of a forced intake and a willful exhalation. they set up the flares, which were magnesium-burning giant candles, a safe distance from the rocket, wired them to a detonator powered from the ship. then, before going back, robin and peter simply stood and looked around. all about, the giant bare mountains ringed the crater. their gaunt, jagged outlines were a black ring against which was set the star-strewn wonder of the sky, in whose exact center slowly rotated the marvelous globe of mother earth. the eerie earthlight threw odd shadows and dark spots across the grayness of the plain. here and there the mysterious-looking domes rose, the tops of bubbles as robin had reason to know. in other places smaller craters and ringed ridges broke the surface. "it looks desolate and barren," commented peter on the helmet-radio. "yet, you know, when we landed in the sunlight of the moon's day, it wasn't all like this. there were patches of low scrubby plants growing in the lowest sections near spots where some air must have been seeping out. this crater is considerably lower than much of the surrounding areas on this central part of the moon. the air here may be almost unnoticeable, but it is still just a bit denser even than it must be on the 'seas' beyond these crater walls." "how did you spot that break in the wall we came through?" asked robin, turning to search for it. "as a matter of fact, it was quite obvious," said his brother. "in the sunlight, there's a distinct stream of vapor coming out of it and a lot of frozen water vapor all around. further, it was just there that the green vegetation was growing thickest. it was quite inviting to a man looking for refuge ... otherwise i'd probably never have thought of it." they trudged back to the rocket, climbed through the lock into the safety of the tiny cabin. robin set the firing pin of the detonator switch, looked out. "it's the western hemisphere that's facing the moon now," he said. "just coming into view. must be early morning around the new mexico belt. you know, your russian friends won't see this flare." peter looked up, shrugged. "we can fire another flare twelve hours later," he said. "i am not particular who rescues us. i am an american, you know. i owe something to the soviets too. when you look at the world from here, from another planet, these distinctions of nationality seem so--somehow--unimportant. we are all humans, all from the same ancestors. even if we were not brothers, we would feel ourselves such. our roots go to all parts of the world. if you add up all people's ancestors a hundred generations back, you will realize that there can't be anyone who is not distantly related to everyone else--that we all share somebody in our ancestry who lived in every country of the world, shared all the histories of the past and all the different politics and opinions." peter grew quiet, as if a little amazed at his own outburst. robin drew close to him, threw an arm around him. "i think when more men get out among the stars, people are going to realize that we can't afford to think of ourselves as anything other than citizens of mother earth. in the face of the universe, of moonmen, of the inhabitants of the millions of other planets that must exist, our national differences seem so small, so much a private family matter as not to be thrashed out in the public of our interstellar neighbors. i think it's good we are brothers. all men are brothers." robin threw the switch. outside, the crater suddenly lighted up in a blinding white glare, a blaze that threw wild, dancing black shadows several miles across the floor, that momentarily lighted the great crags and precipices of the mountains, that made an outburst of grandeur in a moonscape of unearthly terror and beauty. five minutes later, when the flares had died down, robin again threw the switch. the second set of magnesium bombs went off and again the crater was brilliantly lighted. "on earth that should stand out very sharply. it is nearly a new moon for them. this spot of light will be like a blinding diamond on a black velvet setting," said peter poetically. they rested now, taking their space suits off, lolling around on two hammocks, just talking, renewing acquaintance, exchanging experiences. they ate another meal, slept, finally donned their outfits again and set off the next set of flares a half earth-day later, when the massive area of eurasia was on the face of the globe in the lunar sky. "now the russian observers have had a chance to see us," said peter. "we ought to go back to the underground world again. our supplies here are not enough. in order to eat and breathe the next few months, we will have to live among the glassies. we have to go back to the great cleft again." "yes," said robin. "and that brings up the question of von borck. he'll be waiting for us, you know." his brother nodded. "ah, but this time we will be the ones who are armed and ready." he reached down, took out a second gun belt, handed it to robin. "use this. strap it around your space suit." robin looked at it, lifted the pistol in its holster. "it's an army automatic," said peter. "a tokarev .30, built much the same as an american colt. here, i'll show you how it works." he cautioned about the lack of a safety catch, showed how to load the clip of bullets. "be careful of it, though. it has a strong kickback on earth--here on the moon, it may be quite tricky to fire a gun." they dressed again in their outfits, loaded on other supplies that might come in handy, including a light carbine, hunting knife and axe, and waterproof pack of matches. they slung the gun belts around their waists, tied the nylon cord to each other as an added precaution, and made a last check of the rocket cabin. the little radio signal was still humming. some day it would bring a rescue ship. whether that would be a matter of months or a matter of years was the only question. robin gulped a bit at the prospect of spending more years away from his own world. sight of earth, the taste of real food had made him quite homesick. he thrust such thoughts away, snapped tight his helmet plate, and nodded to peter. they climbed out of the rocket, sealing the air-lock door. they stood for a moment outside the wreck, taking their bearings. they turned to head for the cliff wall, when something went _ping_ off a metal fixture on robin's helmet. he started, pulled back and something seemed to flick past his eyes and pop against the side of the rocket. he yelled and ducked for cover. "look out, peter! get down!" standing on the surface, just outside the narrow crack that led underground, was the figure of a man--a man wearing a space suit similar to theirs, with a small dark object in his hand which issued a little flash of red fire. "it's von borck," gasped robin, "and he's shooting at us!" _18. madman's battle_ robin lay flat against the ground, holding himself motionless. peter's voice came over his helmet-radio. "did you get hit?" "no," said robin. "something may have chipped my helmet but there's no leak, so i guess it wasn't a direct shot. how about you? where are you?" from his position he couldn't see his brother, who had obviously fallen somewhere near. "i'm down just behind you," came peter's voice. "we'll have to find better cover than this. there's a slight ridge about a foot high a couple of yards to your left. crawl over to it and get behind it." robin cautiously raised his head. it drew no fire and he realized that lying down in the darkness of the gray surface, the greenish earthlight was not sufficient to outline him to von borck's eyes. he eased up on his arms and crawled slowly to the ridge. behind this was a measure of protection. he was now free to twist his body around to look for peter. in the cumbersome helmet and suit, the only way he could look around was to move his whole body. peter was crawling after him slowly. there was a sudden spurt of dust from the ground just behind him, like a tiny geyser. "von's still shooting at you," said robin. "hurry!" peter slid quickly into refuge behind the ridge at robin's side. twisting his body, he unstrapped the light carbine rifle from his back, brought it around in front of him. "have you ever fired a rifle or a pistol, robin?" he asked. "i learned some target shooting at school," said robin. "i was a pretty fair shot. but i never handled a revolver." peter slid the rifle over to him. "then you use this. i'll use my pistol. we'll have to get him before he gets us." robin held the rifle awkwardly. he glanced at it, saw that it was loaded, slid the bolt action. "i don't like this," he said. "if there was only some way we could capture him and hold him until we're rescued. you said he's a good man with rockets. maybe he can be straightened out mentally if we can get him back to earth." peter shrugged, grunted. "don't waste time dreaming. sure he was a good engineer. but right now it's him or us. if he has his way, none of us will ever return to earth alive. just remember he's doing his very best to kill us--we cannot dare do any less. sure, if we get a break, we'll capture him. right now, though, we'd better shoot him or we'll never get out of this alive." peter suited his action to his words. he clumsily forced his thickly gloved finger through the trigger guard and grasped the pistol. he swiftly raised up, aimed, and pulled the trigger. there was a flash of red and simultaneously peter fell over backward and rolled over once with a yell of pain. robin turned, stricken with horror. "what happened! are you hit?" peter's voice came back. "no, i'm not hit, but i almost wrenched my arm off! it was the gun's recoil, the kick! i completely forgot what a terribly strong recoil a pistol would have on the moon. it was like holding a rocket engine in my hand for a split second. it simply hurled me right over." peter rolled himself over on his chest, resuming his position next to robin. "we'll have to be careful when we fire. remember the kick will be many times stronger than back on earth." there was another spurt of dust to one side of them. another evidence of von borck's shooting. possibly he had caught a glimpse of peter's scramble. robin slid the rifle out in front of him, cocked it for firing. he crawled to a break in the ridge, propped the butt of the gun against a small outcropping of rock along the surface, rolled himself clumsily into position. raising his head, he saw the figure of von borck still standing against the narrow entrance to the wall. he aimed the rifle as well as he was able under the handicaps, pressed it hard, and pulled the trigger. he felt a sharp shock as the rifle tried to kick out of his hands, but he had bolstered it well. he saw a chunk of rock split from the cliffside just over the german's head. von borck ducked as the dust began to fall upon him in its slow lunar fashion, then the german moved back into the break. robin again aimed the rifle, this time directly at the dark center of the break in the cliff. again he fired. this time the figure of the space-suited man backed out of sight entirely. "what now?" asked robin. "shall we wait for him to come back or shall we try to follow him?" "better take the chance and go after him," said his brother's voice. "must follow up every advantage." "then let's go," said robin and leaped to his feet. peter jumped up with him and they both started to sprint for the entrance in the cliff. they ran for it in low, swift leaps, and this time robin saw what ease and fun running on the moon's surface could be if you had the proper outfit for it. it was so light and easy, like running in a dream, gliding rapidly over the faintly lighted eerie moonscape in a world of absolute silence and motionlessness. for an instant, as they closed in on the cliff, robin saw von borck's figure appear, there was another flash of red and then the man vanished again. but the boys did not halt. together they charged the entrance. in a matter of seconds, they reached it, blocked it. there was no sign of the german. they shone their flashlamps into the channel behind the opening. there was nothing. robin could feel the faint rustling movement of the rushing air current, but he could see nothing in motion. again he was struck by the weirdness of the phenomenon. "where'd he go?" he whispered, even though his voice could not be heard outside of their helmets. "he's probably hiding somewhere. we'll have to follow him. get ready and then remember to throw yourself hard across that air blast. it's strong." peter checked the nylon that tied them together. "shall i untie this or shall we jump together?" "let's go together," said robin. they held hands, and, backing up, took a running start and threw themselves into the darkness of the break. there was again the buffeting of a powerful wind, and robin felt himself being caught off his feet by the force of a hurricane. before he could be swept away, a jerk at the cord around his waist threw him down, and he rolled over on the windless far side of the tunnel, safe with peter. he became aware of outside noises. he followed peter's example and opened the plate of his helmet. for an instant he gasped for air, then adjusted to the thin atmosphere. both brothers listened. but they heard nothing. "he must have headed back for the cleft," said peter. "we'll have to follow him." they started to retrace their tracks. partly down the wind tunnel they found the downward slope on which they had traveled before. robin flashed his lamp down its steep pitch. he saw nothing. gingerly he began to work his way cautiously down the sharp slope. peter followed behind. halfway down, robin stopped for breath. when he caught it, he whispered, "i just thought of something. how do we know von went down here? maybe he's gone farther up the tunnel, waiting to slip back and get behind us." "i don't think so," said peter. "i looked in the dust up along the tunnel for his footprints and saw none. he must be ahead of us." they slid on down the slope, found themselves at the beginning of the upper series of connected broken bubbles. along this they trekked, passing along the debris-strewn floor, picking their way carefully. shining their lamps ahead as they went, they saw no sign of motion. finally they came to the hole in the floor, through which they would have to drop several feet into the cave below. robin switched off his light as they approached it, whispered to peter to do the same. they stood silently in the pitch darkness. then robin nudged peter, pointed with his hand against peter's. the hole in the floor was faintly visible. there was a dim flickering coming from it. robin whispered, "it must be von's flashlamp. he's down there, waiting for us." peter nodded in the darkness. "it was the logical spot. he probably hopes to shoot us as we drop through the hole." the two stepped carefully up to the hole, not yet using their lights. they kneeled down, looked. the cave below was almost dark. but from just outside it, from the tunnel that led into it, was a flickering light. their crazed enemy was lurking there, waiting. "what do we do now?" muttered peter. robin looked carefully. "i think i have it. untie the cord and give it to me." peter untied his end of the nylon rope that linked them. robin undid his end, took his flashlamp, tied it to the cord. he whispered his plan to peter. robin lit the flash, backed away from the hole several feet, and then kicked some rocks and began to make a clattering noise. at the same time he began to talk loudly, as if conversing with peter. meanwhile, peter was crouched at the edge of the hole, his tokarev automatic firmly wedged against one side of the hole while it was pointing directly at the faint spot of light below which von borck was hiding. robin reached the hole, making sure he was creating enough noise for the rocket pilot to hear him. then he waved his lamp a few times, flickering it around the cave below, and kneeling down, began to lower it on the cord, trying to keep its beam pointed at the tunnel in which their foe waited. this was the bait on their trap. just as he had expected, as the swinging lamp was about halfway down, dangling presumably in the helpless hand of a man being lowered to the floor--as von borck was supposed to think--the figure of the german appeared in the cave, uttering a wild yell of triumph and aiming a big pistol at the moving light. two guns went off at the same instant. there were two flashes of fire, two deafening blasts of sound. von borck's bullet shattered the swinging flashlamp, blew it into a dozen fragments. peter's bullet struck von borck in the chest, hurling him against the wall to fall in a heap on the floor. without wasting time, peter simply stepped into the hole and drifted downward in the low force of moon gravity. robin followed suit. they leaned over the german's body. robin looked at the pale, mustached face, the staring eyes. "i think he's dead," he said. "though he could be only unconscious." he reached over, started to feel the man's face to find out whether he still breathed. "look out!" shouted peter suddenly and grabbed robin, pulling him to one side. robin looked up and back. above him, with maddening leisureliness, the entire ceiling of the underground bubble was dropping down, dropping in several giant chunks, several earth tons of rock falling toward them. with a mad scramble the two leaped to safety in the tunnel leading downward. there was a slow grinding crash as the shattered roof of the cave settled to the floor, crushing the body beneath it, blocking and sealing the tunnel. "come on!" peter grabbed robin's arm. "the rest of it is caving in! we'd better run!" they dashed down the tunnel, as it crashed behind them. on they ran, following the twisted trail through fault and cleft and bubble, with disaster following their steps. finally the ruin and destruction came to an end as they reached the last steep slope downward to the great sealed cleft. "what happened?" asked robin, as they paused at last to catch their breath. "the explosions!" gasped peter. "the concussions of our pistols shattered the delicate balance of the honeycomb undersurface here. we're lucky it didn't all come down at once, rather than in the form of a chain reaction. we're lucky to be alive, believe me!" "yes," said robin, beginning to make his way down the last tunnel that led to the open ledge of the great bubble-world where the glassies lived. "yes, we're lucky to be alive, but how will we ever get back to the surface now? we're sealed in. maybe forever." peter was silent as they reached the ledge, looked into the vastness of the cleft-world, saw the faint flickering lights of moonworm and moonman. "maybe we'll never get out. robinson crusoe lived twenty-eight years on his island before he was rescued. it may be fifty before they find us in here." robin shrugged. "when i first landed here, i said to myself that while there's life there's hope. now there are two of us. and that's an advance...." _19. riding the tornado_ they looked down from their point on the high ledge into the length of the cleft-world. a very faint light streak could be seen looking upward--this was the curious volcanic glass of the surface roof. through it penetrated just a hint of the full earthlight that bathed the outer moonscape. down were shadows and darkness, in the distance little bits of moving lights, flickering sparks, that may have been the glassies' head-stalks. the two men used their remaining flashlamp to light up the narrow ledge. carefully they made their way down the steep side of the cavern wall, their light swinging slowly back and forth. "suppose the glassies see the light?" said peter. "we may be in for trouble." "maybe," said robin, "but this time we'll be alert for it. we'll have to steer clear of overhanging spots, keep our light swinging about, but i have an idea we'll have no trouble. that bomb and the shooting will probably make them keep their distance." down they went until they reached the level surface. then they started off across the space to the faraway place where the lights could be seen. it was the winter half-month now for the sublunar world. the moon growths had fallen, shriveled, died. their seeds lay dormant for the next sun period. it was fairly chilly in the cavern, yet not as cold as it might have been. somewhere, thought robin, there is a warm volcanic current keeping this cavern from freezing over. they kept a good distance between each other, the long, thin, strong cord linking them being kept almost taut. the reasoning behind this was that if another lassoing attempt were made, it would be almost impossible to get both at once. as long as one were free to get at his firearms, they could overcome such an attack. on they went, with still no sign of meeting any opposition. then robin saw a sudden faint flicker in a clump of darkness to one side. he stopped, whispered into his helmet-radio what he had seen. rapidly his eyes swept the scene, and, yes, there was another suddenly doused flicker on the other side. the glassies must be watching them, waiting. now the two proceeded at a slow pace, widely swinging their light from side to side to prevent ambush. "somehow," said robin, "we are going to have to prove we're friendly. we may have to live here a long time." "yes," said peter, "but how?" they walked only a few steps farther before the answer was given them. something was standing directly in their path. as their light swung near it, this figure raised two hands high and its head-stalk light flashed into brilliant prominence. it was a glassie standing there, a transparent-bodied moonman whose odd face bore the equivalent of a broad smile and whose chest was decorated with a painted black circle. robin stared at the figure of this chief a moment. he saw something move on the glassie's shoulder--a tiny, dark, manlike creature no bigger than a doll. this creature opened its mouth, uttered a sharp shriek. "cheeky!" gasped robin. and at the sound of his voice the little monkey leaped from the glassie's shoulder in one monstrous lunar bound and arrived at robin's foot. another jump and it was in robin's arms, screeching with joy. the glassie chief came forward. it spoke, "robin! good see you. good see you." it was korree! now he too moved forward to grasp robin awkwardly but happily ... korree wearing the marking of the tribal head! now other glassies appeared around them, but they held no weapons in their hands, no sticky hoops or bindings. they stood around the newcomers with awe and uncertainty--willing to be guided by korree's actions but aware of the possible results of an encounter with space-suited earthlings. korree turned a moment, waved them on, speaking in their tongue. peter came up, nodding, shoving his pistol back into its holster. "i see your two friends have won the day while we were up above," he said. "they were indeed friends." the two brothers were escorted back to the site of the native settlement in a crowd of bobbing head-stalk lights and jabbering glassies. korree explained as they walked. it seemed that the explosion of the homemade bomb had completely disrupted the fear in which von borck had held the glassies. this was greater magic to them, and it was the mysterious little being--cheeky--who had accomplished it. in the first excitement, the glassies had fled and hid. that was when the german had come after peter and robin, leaving the glassies behind. this, too, was an indication that even the powerful stranger who had usurped the role of chief by the expedient of his mere existence and strength had bowed to the power of the little monkey. in moonman tribes, the chief never fled the scene of his authority. to do so was to abdicate it. von borck had unknowingly destroyed his authority by his abrupt chase after robin and peter. when korree made his way back to the cave-village after giving up his attempt to follow his earthling friends, he had arrived to find the glassies cowering in fear of the capering cheeky, who was unhurt by the blast. korree had gathered up cheeky in his arms and by so doing had made himself the master of the situation. that was how it came about that the two brothers had been met by a friendly admiring reception rather than a hostile one. "but what happened when von borck returned here to get his space suit?" asked robin. korree waved a hand as if the answer was obvious. "glassies hide," he said simply. "korree hide. cheeky hide. everyone hide." and so von borck arrived to find himself deserted and unwelcome. and he had promptly left to follow the trail to the surface. once back at the site of the caves, they found themselves honored guests. in the days that followed, they set up a cave for themselves, organized a home. cheeky seemed to have now attached himself to korree and went everywhere with the glassie. robin and peter rested, set up a regimen of native food, observed the glassies' way of life. the sun came up again on the surface and flooded the cleft with its light. the moontrees grew rapidly in dense profusion. the two brothers gradually explored the length and breadth of the little world, systematically working around it in search of some new path upward. but their search seemed fruitless. there were a number of holes and breaks in the walls and caves, but none promised a place of exit to the surface. they went back to the original ledge and tunnel, tried to work their way in, but it was blocked with fallen stone and jammed too tightly for passage. they discussed the possibility of making explosives, blasting through, but discarded this as they realized the basic fragility of the whole cleft setup. such blastings might do worse damage, might even crack a direct opening to the surface through which the air within the cleft-bubble would rush out, leaving it a sterile, cold, and dead region. finally after another lunar night and another lunar day, exhausting still one more earth month, they settled down to a slow steady picking and shoveling. they worked in the blocked tunnel in all their spare time, carefully picking away chips of rock, pushing others aside, burrowing around fallen slabs, slowly, gradually, painfully working their way along the old path. but it was hard and unrewarding work. it went slowly and they were always afraid of a cave-in. two or three times such an event did occur, and had it not been for the slowness with which things fell on the moon, one or the other brother would surely have been pinned down. on the third such disaster, the two quit the task, returned to their home in the glassie village discouraged. "this will not work," said robin. "we'll have to give up this entire approach. it would be months or even years before we could make our entire way and by that time one of us would surely be killed in the tunnels. they are still highly unsettled, still shifting." they sat down, looked at each other. "there must still be a way," said peter. "we must find a way to reach the surface. otherwise we will remain here forever." robin nodded, deep in thought. another night was coming over the cleft. the sun was passing swiftly from overhead. a chill began to touch the air, as darkness blacked out the cavern. it would be another two weeks before they could resume any work on their problem. robin started to build a fire in their cave, one they burned every moon winter's night. as he did so a thought struck him. he turned. "when we were first returning from the surface it occurred to me as we came out that there had to be some sort of volcanic current warming this cavern, sun or no sun. now it seems to me that if we could find that current, we would find some sort of air stream or water stream, that must go upward. we ought to look for the warmest spot in the cavern, trace it." peter turned, a sharp light in his eye. "and now that you say it, do you know what that current is? it's the one that passes the break in the crater wall--the constant hurricane that we broke through to get in here, which rushes by the break so hard and so fast that it seals this cavern's quiet inner air as perfectly as if it were an air lock. it has to be that very current which passes somewhere lower down and warms this cleft!" robin nodded, a sharp excitement stirring him. "i think we have hit on it. the night time is the time to hunt for it. find the spot or places in this cleft that stay warmest and they must be nearest the underground wind tunnel." so they set out on a new course of exploration, this time scouting the bubble in the dark of the night. it grew chillier, but in their space suits, which they had resumed for this expedition, they could keep warm. they found several areas along the ground where it seemed a bit warmer than in the cave generally, but after several days of search, this clue also seemed fruitless. the areas were such that no amount of digging short of high explosives would suffice. finally when the long lunar night was almost over, they awakened from sleep in the cave to face the thought that this too was a blind alley. korree entered, the monkey on his shoulder. he made his way to them, noticed their air of sadness, asked them why. tired, robin explained to him what they were looking for. his glassie friend cocked his head. "you come my home. i show you hot spot," he said. the two men looked up. "what?" asked peter. korree repeated his statement. peter looked at robin quizzically. without another word the two got up and followed the glassie. the deep cave where the chief made his home was only a short distance from their own. here, at the very back of the chief's home, they found what they sought. there was a thin, sharp crack in the rear wall. the stone around it was definitely warmer than that in the rest of the cave. putting their ears to the crack, they could hear the faint high whistling of the air current that must be roaring past only a foot or two beyond. "this is why it was picked as the chief's cave," said robin. "it's practically air-conditioned!" the next day, after the sun had finally made its appearance, the two started to work in the back of korree's cave. they worked carefully with axe and pick, enlarging the crack, chipping away at it. finally, they dislodged a sizable segment of rock, enough to allow one man to squeeze through. sure enough, there was a dark underground channel through whose center rushed the eternal current of hot volcanic air. this channel probably had its source somewhere in the still-mysterious depths of the moon's core. it wound and forced its way upward doubtless to dissipate somewhere, as the cold of the surface bore away its warmth, probably to wind up downward again as a mass of cold gas. there was barely enough room at the side of the tunnel for a man to stand flat against the wall, without touching the blast. robin, who had gone through to examine it, came back out into the light of korree's cave. "well," he asked peter, "what do we do now?" his brother nodded. "i think we can get to the surface all right. just get in the blast and let ourselves be blown along upward. when we find that break, we'll get out of the current and we'll be able to reach our rocket." "uh huh," said robin, "and then how do we get back down here again?" peter shrugged. "i don't know. there must be a way." the two returned to their own place and talked it over. but the opportunity was too good to pass up. "sooner or later," said robin, "we're going to do it. so we may as well face that. as for getting back, perhaps we could simply walk all the way down the channel, keeping carefully to the side of dead air just beyond the blast." peter frowned. "i don't think you'll find much of that. there can't be many places where such a dead air channel exists. on the other hand, if we attack the problem of returning by the old route, we may be able to find a way through it from that end--or make a new one. back at the rocket there are explosives, better tools than those we have. i think we should risk it." "yes," robin added, "i think so too. besides, we ought to fire off some more flares. our signals may never have been seen." that being settled, the two earthlings again donned their space suits, equipped themselves, tied themselves together with a length of cord. they returned to korree's cave, explained their project and gravely shook hands with their glassie friend. then robin carefully eased himself through the break into the dark channel. peter squeezed through after him, as robin flattened himself along the wall and moved aside. their helmets sealed, robin counted to three, and then both leaped forward. instantly the racing wind current caught them up, snatched them off their feet. they found themselves being blown madly along the darkness like leaves before a gale. the air was hot and robin felt himself almost scorched as he was hurled along, his elbows and legs occasionally scraping the wall, once feeling himself somersaulting upward, twisting and turning in the horrible blast. for a dreadful moment he felt panicky, out of control, utterly helpless in the grip of the underground tornado. he lighted the flash, saw it wildly flickering. he drew his legs up, ducked his head, and found he could get his equilibrium. ahead of him the tunnel was ascending. he felt himself rising, felt the slight drag occasionally at his belt as peter's bouncing body followed his. now the air began to cool and seemed to slow down slightly. the passage leveled off, he was whirling down a straight passage, and suddenly, in a split second of awareness, he saw a faint spot of bright light ahead of him. he rushed toward it, like a ball buoyed on a stream from a fire hose. it must be the exit to the surface, he thought, and in a second held out the axe he gripped in his hand. the handle caught at the opening as he went sailing by, jammed, swung his body against the wall with a smack. peter's body flashed past, caught up short by the cord, and also hit the body of airless space on the outer side of the channel. they climbed dazedly to their feet and struggled to the narrow break. they staggered out onto the surface, now bathed in the blindingly brilliant light of the sun rising over the peaks of the farther mountains ringing the crater. around them were the first shoots of the stubborn and hardy surface vegetation in this crater, dwarfed cousins of the plants below. they caught their breath. "better get moving," said peter finally. "this sun is dangerous." they started across the floor of the crater, the several hundred feet to where the nose of the wrecked russian rocket rested. both men knew they were bruised from the short, mad trip. there would be scraped shins and knees and elbows. but they had made it, that was the thing. they were about a hundred feet out, when suddenly robin stopped, stared into the sky. peter followed his glance. there was something up there. when they had first glanced up, there was the earth still in its place, though now but a crescent. there were the myriad stars, and the corona-encircled sun. and now there was another celestial object. a tiny spot of reddish orange was growing in the sky, growing as they watched it. "what is it?" asked robin in a half whisper, afraid to venture the thought that was rioting around in his head. peter simply stared, transfixed. the moving spot of fire grew rapidly, enlarged, took shape. it was a tiny stream of energy, like the tail of a tiny comet. it came still closer. now they could see a flash of white and silver at its core, and still it drew closer. now it took definite shape, a tiny body of metal and paint riding down on a long stream of atomic fire! then in mere seconds it hung over them, no longer tiny but a giant tower of polished metal hanging over the crater floor, falling ever more slowly, its great column of rocket fire reaching and scorching the surface of the rock. and suddenly, the fire was gone, there was a faint thud felt through the ground, and the two brothers stood staring. out there, not very distant, was standing a glorious, tall, slender rocket ship, fresh with paint, beautifully and delicately balanced on finely tapered fins, graceful as only a space craft can be. on its side, clearly visible in the sunlight, was a large blue circle on which was superimposed the white star of the united states air force. there were numbers and things and a small, black air lock now opening near the nose of the rocket, but robin and peter hardly noticed these through the tears of joy that sprang to their eyes as they ran and bounded over the moon's surface to greet their rescuers. waving their hands, shouting, heedless of whether they were being heard, they were robinson crusoes no longer. they were on their way home. _about the author_ donald a. wollheim, born in 1914, has lived in new york city all his life. at first a free-lance writer of stories and articles mainly for science-fiction magazines, he began his career as editor in 1940. he has edited all kinds of magazines, including detective, sports, and western periodicals. in 1952, mr. wollheim was invited to launch ace books and has since held the position of editor of these paperbacks. science fiction is mr. wollheim's chief interest and hobby. his collection of science-fiction books and magazines is one of the largest and his list of published books is a long one. many distinguished anthologies of fantasy and science fiction bear his name as editor. among his most recent books of original fiction are _the secret of saturn's rings_ and _the secret of the martian moons_. lost on the moon or in quest of the field of diamonds by roy rockwood chapter i. a wonderful story ii. something about our heroes iii. preparing for a voyage iv. an accident v. the work of an enemy vi. on the track vii. mark is captured viii. jack is puzzled ix. a daring plot x. "how strange mark acts" xi. ready for the moon xii. mark's escape xiii. a direful threat xiv. off at last xv. the shanghai makes trouble xvi. "will it hit us?" xvii. turning turtle xviii. at the moon xix. torches of life xx. on the edge of a crater xxi. washington sees a ghost xxii. a breakdown xxiii. lost on the moon xxiv. desolate wanderings xxv. the petrified city xxvi. seeking food xxvii. the black pool xxviii. the signal fails xxix. the field of diamonds xxx. back to earth--conclusion chapter i a wonderful story "well, what do you think of it, mark?" asked jack darrow, as he laid aside a portion of a newspaper, covered with strange printed characters. "great; isn't it?" "you don't mean to tell me that you believe that preposterous story, do you, jack?" and mark sampson looked across the table at his companion in some astonishment. "oh, i don't know; it may be true," went on jack, again picking up the paper and gazing thoughtfully at it. "i wish it was." "but think of it!" exclaimed mark. "why, if such a thing exists, and if we, or some one else, should attempt to bring all those precious stones to this earth, it would revolutionize the diamond industry of the world. it can't be true!" "well, here it is, in plain print. you can read it for yourself, as you know the martian language as well as i do. it states that a large field of 'reonaris' was discovered on the moon near mare tranquilitatis (or tranquil ocean, i suppose that could be translated), and that the men of mars brought back some of the reonaris with them. here, read it, if you don't believe me." "oh, i believe you, all right--that is, i think you have translated that article as well as you can. but suppose you have made some error? we didn't have much time to study the language of mars while we were there, and we might make some mistake in the words. that article might be an account of a dog-fight on the red planet, instead of an account of a trip to the moon and the discovery of a field of reonaris; eh, jack?" "of course, i'm likely to have made an error, for it isn't easy to translate this stuff." and jack gazed intently at the strangely printed page, which was covered with characters not unlike greek. "i may be wrong," went on the lad, "but you must remember that i translated some other articles in this paper, and professor henderson also translated them substantially as i did, and professor roumann agreed with him. there _is_ reonaris on the moon, and i wish we could go there and get some." "but maybe after you got the reonaris it would turn out to be only common crystals," objected mark. "no!" exclaimed jack. "reonaris is what the martians call it in their language, and that means diamonds. i'm sure of it!" "well, i don't agree with you," declared the other lad. "don't be cranky and contrary," begged jack. "i'm not; but what's the use of believing anything so wild and weird as that? it's a crazy yarn!" "it's nothing of the sort! there are diamonds on the moon; and i can prove it!" "well, don't get excited," suggested mark calmly. "i don't believe it; that's all. you're mistaken about what reonaris is; that's what you are." "i am not!" jack had arisen from his chair, and seemed much elated. in his hand he held clinched the paper which had caused the lively discussion. it was as near to a disagreement as jack darrow and mark sampson had come in some time. "sit down," begged mark. "i'll not!" retorted jack. "i'm going to prove to you that i'm right." "how are you going to do it?" "i'm going to get professor henderson and professor roumann to translate this article for you, and then you can ask them what reonaris is. guess that'll convince you; won't it?" "maybe; but why don't you ask andy sudds or washington white to give their opinion?" "don't get funny," advised the other lad sharply, and then, seeing that his chum was smiling, jack laughed, cooled down a bit, looked at the paper which he had crumpled in his hand, and said: "i guess i _was_ getting a little too excited. but i'm sure i'm right. here's the paper i brought from mars to prove it, and the only thing there's any doubt about is whether or not reonaris means diamonds. i'll ask----" at that moment the door of the library, in which jack and mark were seated, was cautiously opened, and a black, woolly head was thrust in. then two widely-opened eyes gazed at the boys. "what's the matter, washington?" asked jack, with a laugh. "'scuse me, massa jack," answered the colored man, "but did i done heah you' to promulgate some conversationess regarding de transmigatorability ob diamonds?" "do you mean, were we talking about diamonds?" inquired mark. "dat's what i done said, massa mark." "no, you _didn't_ say it, but you meant it, i guess," went on jack. "yes, we _were_ talking about diamonds, washington. i know a place that's full of them." "where?" inquired the colored man, thrusting his head farther into the room, and opening his eyes to their fullest extent. "ef it ain't violatin' no confidences, massa jack, would yo' jest kindly mention it to yo's truly," and professor henderson's faithful servant, who had followed him into many dangers, looked at the two boys, who, of late years, had shared the labors of the well-known scientist. "where am dose diamonds, massa jack?" "on the moon," was the answer. "on de moon? ha! ha! dat's a joke!" and washington began to laugh. "on de moon! ha! ho!" "well, you can read it for yourself," went on the lad, tossing the paper over to the colored man. the latter picked it up, gazed at it, first from one side, and then from the other. next he turned it upside down, but, as this did not make the article any clearer, he turned the paper back again. then he remarked, with a puzzled air: "well, i neber could read without mah glasses, massa jack, so i guess i'll hab t' let it go until annoder time. diamonds on de moon, eh? dat's wonderful! i wonder what dey'll be doin' next? but i'se got t' go. diamonds on de moon, eh? diamonds on de moon!" as washington turned to leave the room, for he had entered it when jack and mark were talking to aim, the latter lad asked: "did you want to see us about anything particular, wash?" "why, i suah did," was the reply, "i did come t' tell yo' dat perfesser henderson would be pleased to hold some conversations wid yo', but when massa jack done mentioned about dem diamonds, i clean fo'got it. diamonds on de moon, eh?" "well, if the professor wants us we'd better go," suggested mark. "come on, jack, and stop dreaming about reonaris and the moonbeams. get back to earth." "all right; laugh if you want to," said jack sturdily, "but the time will come, mark, when you'll find out that i'm right." "how?" asked mark. "i don't know, but i'm sure i can prove what i say." the two boys were to have the wonderful diamond story demonstrated to them sooner than either expected. following the colored man, the lads, jack carrying the paper, made their way to the laboratory of professor henderson. his door was open, and the aged man, whose hair and beard were now white with age, was bending over a table covered with papers, chemical apparatus, test tubes, alembecs, bunsen burners, globes, and various pieces of apparatus. another man, not quite so old as was mr. henderson, was on the point of leaving the apartment. "ah, boys," remarked the older professor, as he caught sight of them, "i hope i didn't disturb you by sending for you." "no; jack and i were only having a red-hot discussion about diamonds on the moon," said mark, with a laugh. "diamonds on the moon!" exclaimed professor henderson. "diamonds on the moon?" repeated his friend, prof. santell roumann. "is this a joke, boys?" "mark thinks so, but i don't!" cried jack, enthusiastically. "look here, professor henderson, and also mr. roumann. here is one of the newspapers that we brought back with us in our projectile, the _annihilator_, after our trip to mars. i have been translating some of the articles in it, and to-night i came across one that told of a trip made by some of the inhabitants of mars to the moon, in a sort of projectile, like ours, only more on the design of an aeroplane. "they landed on the moon, the article states, and found a big field, or deposit, of reonaris, which i claim are diamonds. mark says i'm wrong, but, professor henderson, isn't reonaris to the martians what diamonds are to us?" "it certainly is," agreed the older scientist, and he looked for confirmation to his scholarly companion. "reonaris is substantially a diamond," said professor roumann. "it has the same chemical constitution, and also the diamond's hardness and brilliancy. but i don't understand how any diamonds can be on the moon." "you can read this for yourself," suggested jack, passing over the paper, which was one of some souvenirs brought back from what was the longest journey on record, ever taken by human beings. mr. roumann adjusted his glasses, and carefully read the article that was printed in such strange characters. as he perused it, he nodded his head thoughtfully from time to time. then he passed the paper to professor henderson. the older scientist was somewhat longer in going over the article, but when he had finished, he looked at the two boys, and said: "jack is right! this is an account of a trip made to the moon by some of the martians, who have advanced much further in the art of air navigation than have we. some of the words i am not altogether familiar with, but in the main, that is what the paper states." "and doesn't it tell about them finding a field of reonaris?" asked jack eagerly, for he was anxious to prove to his chum that he was right. "yes, it does," replied mr. henderson. "and reonaris is diamonds, isn't it?" asked jack. "it is," answered professor roumann gravely. "then," cried jack, "what's to hinder us from going to the moon, and getting some of those diamonds? the martians must have left some! let's go to the moon and get them! we can do it in the projectile with which we made the journey to mars. let's start for the moon!" for a moment there was silence in the laboratory of the scientist. it was broken by washington white, who remarked: "good land a' massy! annodder ob dem trips through de air! well, i ain't goin' to no moon--no sah!! ef i went dere, i'd suah get looney, an' i has troubles enough now wid'out dat, i suah has!" and, shaking his head dubiously, the colored man shuffled from the room. chapter ii something about our heroes "are you in earnest in proposing this trip?" asked professor henderson of jack. the lad, with flushed face and bright eyes, stood in the centre of the apartment, holding the paper which the aged scientist had returned to him. "i certainly am," was the reply. "it ought not to be a difficult undertaking, after our trip to the north pole through the air, the one to the south pole under water, our journey to the centre of the earth, and our flight to mars. why, a trip to the moon ought to be a little pleasure jaunt, like an automobile tour. can't we go, professor?" "from the standpoint of possibility, i presume we could make a trip to the moon," the scientist admitted. "it would not take so long, nor would it be as dangerous, as was our trip to mars. and yet, i don't know that i care to go. i am getting along in years, and i have money enough to live on. even a field of diamonds hardly sounds attractive to me." jack's face showed the disappointment he felt. "and yet," went on the aged scientist with a smile, "there are certain attractions about another trip through space. i had hoped to settle down in life now, and devote my time to scientific study and the writing of books. but this is something new. we never have been to the moon, and----" "there are lots of problems about it that are still unsolved!" cried jack eagerly. "you will be able to discover if the moon has an atmosphere and moisture; and also what the other side--the one that is always turned away from us--looks like." "it does sound tempting," went on the aged scientist slowly. "and we could do it in our projectile, the _annihilator_. it is in good working order; isn't it, professor roumann?" "couldn't be better. if you ask me, i, for one, would like to make a trip to the moon. it would give me a better chance to test the powers of cardite, that wonderful red substance we brought from mars. i can use that in the etherium motor. if you left it to me, i'd say, 'go to the moon.'" "well, perhaps we will," spoke mr. henderson thoughtfully. "you'll go, too, won't you, mark?" asked jack. "oh, i'm not going to be left behind. i'll go if the rest do, but i don't believe you'll find any diamonds on the moon. if there ever were any, the martians took them." for mark had been partly convinced after the confirmation by the two professors of jack's translation. "i'll take a chance on the sparklers," said his chum. "but now, let's go into details, and figure out when we can start. it ought not to take very long to get ready." as has been explained in detail in the other books of this series, professor amos henderson and the two lads, mark sampson and jack darrow, had undertaken many strange voyages together. sometimes they were accompanied by friends and assistants, while washington white, a sort of servant, helper, and man-of-all-work, and andy sudds, an old hunter, always went with them. mark and jack were orphans, who had been adopted by professor henderson, who spent all his time making wonderful machines for transportation, or conducting strange experiments. the two boys had been rescued by professor henderson and washington white from a train wreck. although both boys were badly hurt, they were nursed back to health by the eminent scientist, who soon learned to care for the lads as though they had been his own sons. they aided the professor, as soon as they were able, in constructing an airship, called the _electric monarch_, in which professor henderson hoped to be able to reach the north pole. the boys thoroughly enjoyed the trip through the air, and had many thrills fighting the savage eskimos. finally, they succeeded in passing over the exact spot of the north pole during a violent snowstorm. not satisfied with their experiences after conquering the north, the adventurers set out for the antarctic regions in a submarine boat. this trip, even more remarkable than the first, took them to many strange places in the south atlantic. they were trapped for a time in the sargasso sea, and they walked on the ocean floor in new diving suits, one of the professor's marvelous inventions. it was on the voyage to the south that, coming to the surface one day, the adventurers saw a strange island in the atlantic ocean, far from the coast of south america. on it was a great whirlpool, into which the _porpoise_, their submarine boat, was nearly drawn by the powerful suction. the chasm might lead to the center of the earth, it was suggested, and, after thinking the matter over, on their return from the antarctic, professor henderson decided to build a craft in which they might solve the mystery. the details of the voyage they took in the _flying mermaid_, are told of in the third volume, entitled "five thousand miles underground." the _mermaid_ could sail on the water, or float in the air like a balloon. in this craft the travellers descended into the centre of the earth, and had many wonderful adventures. they nearly lost their lives, and had to escape, after running through danger of the spouting water, leaving their craft behind. for some time they undertook no further voyages, and the two boys, who lived with professor henderson in a small town on the coast of maine, were sent to attend the universal electrical and chemical college. washington remained at home to minister to the wants of the old professor, and andy sudds went off on occasional hunting trips. but the spirit of adventure was still strong in the hearts of the boys and the professor. one day, in the midst of some risky experiments at college, jack and mark, as related in "through space to mars," received a telegram from professor henderson, calling them home. there they found their friend entertaining as a guest professor santell roumann, who was almost as celebrated as was mr. henderson, in the matter of inventions. professor roumann made a strange proposition. he said if the old scientist and his young friends would build the proper kind of a projectile, they could make a trip to the planet mars, by means of a wonderful motor, operated by a power called etherium, of which mr. roumann held the secret. after some discussion, the projectile, called the _annihilator_, from the fact that it annihilated space, was begun. it was two hundred feet long, ten feet in diameter in the middle, and shaped like a cigar. it consisted of a double shell of strong metal, with a non-conducting gas between the two sides. within it were various machines, besides the etherium motor, which would send the projectile along at the rate of one hundred miles a second. this great speed was necessary in order to reach the planet mars, which, at the time our friends started for it, was about thirty-five millions of miles away from this earth. it has since receded some distance farther than this. finally all was in readiness for the start to mars. professor roumann wanted to prove that the planet was inhabited, and he also wanted to get some of a peculiar substance, which he believed gave the planet its rosy hue. he had an idea that it would prove of great value. but, though every precaution was taken, the adventurers were not to get away from the earth safely. almost at the last minute, a crazy machinist, named fred axtell, who was refused work on the projectile, tried to blow it up with a bomb. he partly succeeded, but the damage was repaired, and the start made. inside the projectile our friends shut themselves up, and the powerful motors were started. off it shot, at the rate of one hundred miles a second, but the travellers were as comfortable as in a pullman car. they had plenty to eat and drink, they manufactured their own air and water, and they slept when they so desired. but axtell, the crazy machinist, had hidden himself aboard, and, in mid-air, he tried to wreck the projectile. he was caught, and locked up in a spare room, but, when mars was reached, he escaped. the book tells how our friends were welcomed by the martians, how they learned the language, saw many strange sights, and finally got on the track of the cardite, or red substance, which the german professor, mr. roumann, had come so far to seek. this cardite was capable of great force, and, properly controlled, could move great weights and operate powerful machinery. our friends wanted to take some back to earth with them, but when they attempted to store it in their projectile, they met with objections, for the martians did not want them to take any. they had considerable trouble, and the crazy machinist led an attack of the soldiers of the red planet against our friends, the adventurers in the projectile. among the other curiosities brought away by our friends, was a newspaper printed in mars, for the inhabitants of that place where much further advanced along certain lines than we are on this earth, but in the matter of newspapers they had little to boast of, save that the sheets were printed by wireless electricity, no presses being needed. as told at the opening of this story, jack had noticed on one of the sheets they brought back, an account of how some of the martians made a trip to the moon, and discovered a field of reonaris. this trip was made shortly before our friends made their hasty departure, and it was undertaken by some martian adventurers on another part of the red planet than where the projectile landed, and so professor henderson and his friends did not hear of it at the time. "well, then, suppose we make the attempt to go to the moon," said professor roumann, after a long discussion in the laboratory. "it will not take long to get ready." "i'd like to go," said jack. "how about you, professor henderson? oh, by the way, washington said you wanted to see mark and me, but i was so interested in this news item, that i forgot to ask what it as about." "i merely wanted to inquire when you and mark thought of resuming your studies at college," said the aged man, "but, since this matter has come up, it will be just as well if you do not arrange to resume your lessons right away." "we can study while making the trip to the moon," suggested mark. "not much," declared jack, with a laugh. "there'll be too much to see." "well, we'll discuss that later," went on mr. henderson. "practically speaking, i think the voyage can be made, and, the more i think of it, the better i like the idea. we will look over the projectile in the morning, and see what needs to be done to it to get it ready for another trip through space." "not much will have to be done, i fancy," remarked the german scientist. "but i want to make a few improvements in the cardite motor, which i will use in place of the etherium one, that took us to mars." a little later there came a knock on the rear door of the rambling old house where the professor lived and did much of his experimental work. "i'll go," volunteered jack, and when he opened the portal there stood on the threshold a small boy, dick johnson, one of the village lads. "what is it you want, dick?" asked mark. "here's a note for you," went on the boy, passing over a slip of paper. "i met a man down the road, and he gave me a quarter to bring it here. he said it was very important, and he's waiting for you down by the white bridge over the creek." "waiting for who?" asked jack. "for mark, i guess; but i don't know. anyhow, the note's for him." "hum! this is rather strange," mused mark. "what is it?" asked jack. "why, this note. it says: 'it is important that i see you. i will wait for you at the white bridge.' that's all there is to it." "no name signed?" asked jack. "not a name. but i'll just take a run down and see what it is. i'll not be long. much obliged, dick." the boy who had brought the note turned to leave the house, and mark prepared to follow. jack said: "let me see that note." he scanned it closely, and, as mark was getting on his hat and coat, for the night was chilly, his chum went on: "mark, if i didn't know, that we had left axtell, the crazy machinist, up on mars, i'd say that this was his writing. but, of course, it's impossible." "of course--impossible," agreed mark. "but, there's one thing, though," continued jack. "what's that?" asked mark. "i don't like the idea of you going off alone in the dark, to meet a man who doesn't sign his name to the note he wrote. so, if you have no objections, i'll go with you. no use taking any chances." "i don't believe i run any risk," said mark, "but i'll be glad of your company. come along. maybe it's only a joke." and the two lads started off together in the darkness toward the white bridge. chapter iii preparing for a voyage "seems like rather an odd thing; doesn't it?" remarked jack, as he and his chum walked along. "what?" "this note." "oh, yes. but what made you think the writing looked like that of the crazy machinist who tried to wreck the projectile?" "because i once saw some of the crazy letters he sent us, and he wrote just like the man who gave dick this note. but come on, let's hustle, and see what's up." in a few minutes they came in sight of the white bridge, which was about a quarter of a mile down the road from the professor's house. the two boys kept well together, and they were watching for a first sight of the man in waiting. "see anything?" asked jack. "no; do you?" "not a thing. wait until we get closer. he may be in the shadow. it's dark now." almost as jack spoke, the moon, which had been hidden behind a bank of clouds, peeped out, making the scene comparatively bright. the boys peered once more toward the bridge, and, as they did so, they saw a figure step from the shadows, stand revealed for an instant in the middle of the structure, and then, seemingly after a swift glance toward the approaching chums, the person darted off in the darkness. "did you see that?" cried jack. "sure," assented mark. "guess he didn't want to wait for us. why, he's running to beat the band!" "let's take after him," suggested jack, and, nothing loath, mark assented. the two lads broke into a run, but, as they leaped forward, the man also increased his pace, and they could hear his feet pounding out a tattoo on the hard road. the two youths reached the bridge, and sped across it. they glanced hastily on either side, thinking possibly the man might have had some companions, but no one was in sight, and the stranger himself was now out of view around a bend in the highway. "no use going any farther," suggested jack, pulling up at the far side of the bridge. "there are two roads around the bend, and we couldn't tell which one he'd take. besides, it might not be altogether safe to risk it." mark and jack, on their return, told professor henderson and the german scientist something of their little excursion. "but who could he have been?" asked mr. roumann. "perhaps if you ask the boy who brought the note he can tell you." "we'll do it in the morning," decided mark. "it's peculiar that he wanted mark to meet him," spoke amos henderson. "have you any enemies that you know of, mark?" "not a one. but what makes you think this man was an enemy, professor?" "from the fact that he ran when he saw you and jack together. evidently he expected to get mark out alone." they discussed the matter for some time, and then the boys and the scientists retired to bed, ready to begin active preparations on the morrow, for their trip to the moon. there was much to be done, but their experience in making other wonderful trips, particularly the one to mars, stood the travellers in good stead. they knew just how to go to work. to washington was entrusted the task of preparing the food supply, since he was to act as cook. andy sudds was instructed to look after the clothing and other supplies, except those of a scientific nature, while the two young men were to act as general helpers to the two professors. as the _annihilator_ has been fully described in the volume entitled, "through space to mars," there is no need to dwell at any length on the construction of the projectile in which our friends hoped to travel to the moon. sufficient to say that it was a sort of enclosed airship, capable of travelling through space--that is, air or ether--at enormous speed, that there were contained within it many complicated machines, some for operating the projectile, some for offence or defence against enemies, such as electric guns, apparatus for making air or water, and scores of scientific instruments. the _annihilator_ was controlled either from the engine room, or from a pilot house forward. as for the motive power it was, for the trip to the moon, to be of that wonderful martian substance, cardite, which would operate the motors. the projectile moved through space by the throwing off of waves of energy, similar to wireless vibrations, from large plates of metal, and these plates were the invention of professor roumann. perhaps to some of my readers it may seem strange to speak so casually of a trip to the moon, but it must be remembered that our friends had already accomplished a much more difficult journey, namely, that to mars. so the moon voyage was not to daunt them. mars, as i have said, was thirty-five millions of miles away from the earth when the _annihilator_ was headed toward it. to reach the moon, however, but 252,972 miles, at the most, must be traversed--a little more than a quarter of a million miles. as the distance from the earth to the moon varies, being between the figures i have named, and 221,614 miles, with the average distance computed as being 238,840 miles, it can readily be seen that at no time was the voyage to be considered as comparing in distance with the one to mars. but there were other matters to be taken into consideration, and our friends began to ponder on them in the days during which they made their preparations. chapter iv an accident washington white was kept busy getting together the food for the voyage, and he had about completed his task, while andy sudds announced one morning that his department was ready for inspection, and that he thought he would go hunting until the projectile was ready to start. "well, if you see anything of that queer man who sent me the note, just ask him what he meant by it," suggested mark, for inquiry from the boy who had brought the message, developed the fact that dick did not know the man, nor had he ever seen him before. he was a stranger in the neighborhood. but, as nothing more resulted from it, the two lads gave the matter no further thought. "how soon before we will be ready to start?" asked jack one day, while he and his chum, with the two professors, were working over the projectile, which was soon to be shot through space. "in about two weeks," replied mr. roumann. "i want to make a few changes in the cardite plates, which will replace the ones used on the etherium motor. then i want to test them, and, if i find that they work all right, as i hope, we will seal ourselves up in the _annihilator_, and start for the moon." "are you going to try to go around it, and land on the side turned away from us?" asked mark, who had been studying astronomy lately. "what do you mean by that?" asked jack. "doesn't the moon turn around?" "not as the earth does," replied his chum; "or, rather, to be more exact, it rotates exactly as the earth does, on its axis; but, in doing this it occupies precisely the same time that it takes to make a revolution about our planet. so that, in the long run, to quote from my astronomy, it keeps the same side always toward the earth; and today, or, to be more correct, each night that the moon is visible, we see the same face and aspect that galileo did when he first looked at it through his telescope, and, unless something happens, the same thing will continue for thousands of years." "then we've never seen the other side of the moon?" asked jack. "never; and that's why i wondered if the professor was going to attempt to reach it. perhaps there are people there, and air and water, for it is practically certain that there is neither moisture nor atmosphere on this side of luna." "wow! then maybe we'd better not go," said jack, with a shiver. "what will we do, if we get thirsty?" "oh, i guess we can manage, with all the apparatus we have, to distill enough water," said professor henderson, with a smile. "then, too, we will take plenty with us, and, of course, tanks of oxygen to breathe. but it will be interesting to see if there are people on the moon." "if there are any, they must have a queer time," went on mark. "why?" asked jack, who wasn't very fond of study. "why? because the moon is only about one forty-ninth the size of the earth. its diameter is 2,163 miles--only a quarter of the earth's--and, comparing the force of gravity, ours is much greater. a body that weighs six pounds on the earth, would weigh only one pound on the moon, and a man on the moon could jump six times as high as he can on this earth, and throw a stone six times as far." "what's dat?" inquired washington white quickly, nearly dropping some packages he was carrying into the projectile. "what was yo' pleased t' saggasiate, in remarkin' concernin' de untranquility ob the densityness ob stones jumpin' ober a man what is six times high?" he asked. "do you mean what did i say?" asked mark solemnly. "dat's what i done asked yo'," spoke the colored man gravely. "well, you didn't, but perhaps you meant to," went on the youth, and he repeated his remarks. "'scuse me, i guess i'd better not go on dish yeah trip after all," came from washington. "why not?" demanded professor henderson. "'cause i ain't goin' t' no place whar ef yo' wants t' take a little jump yo' has t' go six times as far as yo' does when yo' is on dis yeah earth. an' s'posin' some ob dem moon men takes a notion t' throw a stone at me? whar'll i be, when a stone goes six times as far as it does on heah? no, sah, i ain't goin'!" "but perhaps there are no men on the moon," said mark quickly. "it is only a theory of astronomers that i'm talking about." "oh, only a theory; eh?" asked washington quickly. "that's all." "oh, if it's only a theory, den i reckons it's all right," came from the colored man. "i didn't know it were a theory. dat makes it all right. it's jest in theory, am it, massa mark, dat a stone goes six times as far?" "that's all." "oh, well, den, why didn't yo' say so fust, dat it was only a theory? i don't mind theories. i--i used t' eat 'em boiled an' roasted befo' de wah." and, with a contented smile on his face, washington went into the projectile, to finish stowing things away in his kitchen lockers. the big projectile was housed in the shed where it had been constructed, and the professor and the boys were working over it there, carefully guarded from curious eyes, for the german inventor did not want the secret of his cardite motor to become known. the work went on from day to day, good progress being made. the boys were of great assistance, for they were practical mechanics, and had had considerable experience. "well, i shall try the cardite motor to-morrow," announced professor roumann one night, after a hard day's work on the projectile. "do you think it will work?" asked mr. henderson. "i think so, yes. my experiments have made me hopeful." "and if it does work, when can we start?" asked jack. "two days later; that is, if everything else is in readiness, the food and other, supplies on board." "they are all ready to be stowed away," said andy sudds, who had been hunting all day. it was an anxious assemblage that gathered inside the big shed the next day, to watch professor roumann try the cardite motor. would it work as well as had the etherium one? would it send them along through space at enormous speed? true, they would not have to travel so far, nor so fast, but more power would be needed, since, as it was feared no food, water, nor air could be had on the moon, many more supplies were to be taken along than on the trip to mars, and this made the projectile heavier. "we will test the cardite in this small motor first," said mr. roumann, as he pointed to a machine in the projectile used for winding a cable around a windlass when there was necessity for hauling the _annihilator_ about, without sending it into the air. into the receptacle of the motor, the german professor placed some of the wonderful red substance he had secured from mars. then he closed the heavy metal box that held it, and, looking about to see if all was in readiness, he motioned to those watching him that he was about to shift the lever that would start the motor. "if it works as well as i hope it will," he said, "it ought to pull the projectile slowly across the shop--a task that would be impossible in a motor of this size, if operated by electricity, gasoline, or any other force at present in use. and, if this small motor will do that, i know the large ones will send us through space to the moon. all ready, now." slowly the professor shoved over the lever, while jack, mark and the others watched him carefully. they were standing back of him, in the engine room of the projectile. there was a clicking sound as the lever snapped into place. this was succeeded by a buzzing hum, as the motor began to absorb the great power from the red substance, which was not unlike radium in its action. there was a trembling to the great projectile. "she's moving!" cried jack. hardly had he spoken when there was a flash of red fire, a sound as of a bursting bomb, and everyone was knocked from his feet, over backward, while professor roumann was hurled the entire length of the engine room. "the cardite motor has exploded!" cried mark. "professor roumann is killed!" chapter v the work of an enemy jack's first act, on arising from amid a mass of tools, into which he had been tossed by the explosion, was to run to where professor roumann lay in a semi-conscious condition. an instant later mark slowly arose, and made his way to where professor henderson was rubbing his forehead in a dazed fashion. "are you hurt?" asked mark, of his aged friend. "i think not," answered mr. henderson slowly, "but i fear mr. roumann is. see to him; i'm all right." "he's breathing," cried jack, who had bent over the german. "he isn't dead, at any rate." "but he may be, unless he gets attention," said professor henderson. "get my medicine chest, mark, and we'll see what we can do for him." jack had raised the head of the injured man on his arm, and was giving him some water from a glass. this partially revived the german, and he opened his eyes. he looked around, into the faces of his friends, as if scarcely comprehending what had happened, and then, as his gaze wandered toward the disabled cardite motor, he exclaimed: "some enemy has done this! the motor was tampered with. the resistance block was loosened, and that caused the force of the cardite to shoot out at the rear. we must watch out for the work of this enemy!" "don't distress yourself about that now," urged mr. henderson. "are you badly hurt? do you need a doctor?" the german slowly drank the rest of the water which jack gave him, and then gradually arose to a standing position. "i am all right," he said faintly, "except that i feel a trifle dizzy. something hit me on the head, and the fumes from the cardite took away my breath for a moment. i think i shall be all right soon." "here is the medicine chest!" exclaimed mark, coming back into the engine room. mr. henderson poured out some aromatic spirits of ammonia into a graduated glass, added a little water, and gave it to his fellow, inventor, who, after drinking it, declared that he felt much better. there was a cut on his forehead, where a piece of the broken motor had struck him, but, otherwise, he did not seem injured externally. as for the boys, they were only stunned, nor was mr. henderson more than momentarily shocked. in a few minutes the german professor was almost himself again. "we must try to discover who our enemy is," he said earnestly, as he looked over the disabled motor. "he might have blown up the whole projectile by tampering as he did with the machinery. had i been testing the large, instead of the small motor, there would have been nothing left of the _annihilator_, or us, either. who could have done this? if that crazy machinist is around again----" "i don't believe he could get here from mars," interrupted jack, with a smile. "hardly," added mark. "no, i guess he is still on the red planet, so it couldn't have been him," went on mr. roumann. "but it was some one." jack and mark at once thought of the odd man who had sent mark the note, and then had run away. "could it have been him?" suggested jack. "it's possible," remarked professor henderson. "we must be on our guard. i wonder if washington----" at that moment there sounded a violent pounding on the exterior of the projectile, and the voice of the colored man could be heard calling: "am anything de mattah? andy sudds an' i is out heah, an' we heard suffin goin' on in dere. am anybody hurted?" "it's all over now, wash," replied jack, for the two boys, and the two professors, had shut themselves up in the projectile while they conducted the experiment. jack opened the door of the _annihilator_ and stepped out, being met by the colored man and the old hunter. "you haven't seen any suspicious characters around, have you, wash?" asked mark. "some one has been tampering with a motor, and it exploded." "nobody's been around since i've been here," announced andy sudds, with a significant glance at his gun. "maybe it's some ob dem moon-men, what don't laik de idea ob us goin' dere arter dere diamonds," volunteered the colored man. "perhaps," admitted jack, with a smile. "but certainly some one has been around here who had no business to be, and we must find out who it was. better take a look around, wash." "i'll help him," said andy, and, with his rifle in readiness for any intruders, the old hunter followed the colored man outside the big shed. meanwhile professor roumann and mr. henderson were carefully examining the exploded motor. "i should have looked at the breech plug before turning on the power," said the german, "but i had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong." he went on to explain that the explosion was something like that which occurs when the breech-block of a big navy gun is not properly in place. the force of the cardite, instead of being directed against the piston-heads of the motor, shot out backward, and almost into the face of the professor, who was operating the machine. "but what could be their object?" asked mark. "who would want to injure us, or damage the projectile?" "some enemy, of course," declared jack. "but who? the crazy machinist is out of it, and as for that man who sent the note to you, he seemed too big a coward to attempt anything like this." "some one evidently sneaked in here and loosened the breech-plug," went on mark, "and it was evidently done with the idea of delaying us. the enemy could not have desired to utterly disable the projectile, or else he would have tampered with the large motor, instead of the small one." "yes, the object seems to have been to delay us," admitted professor henderson; "yet, i can't understand why. whoever did it evidently knows something about machinery." "i hope they did not discover the secret of my cardite motor," said professor roumann quickly. "they hardly had time," declared mark. "we have been in or around the projectile nearly every minute of the day, and whoever it was, must have watched his chance, slipped in, stayed a few seconds, and then slipped out again." they went carefully over the entire projectile, but could find no further damage done. nor were there any traces of the person who had so nearly caused a tragedy. washington and andy, after a careful search outside the shed, had to admit that they had no clews. "well, the only thing to do is to go to work and build a new small motor," announced professor roumann, after once more looking over the _debris_ of the one that had exploded. "will it take long?" asked jack. "about two weeks. fortunately, i can use some of the parts of this one, or we would be delayed longer." "still two weeks is quite a while," suggested mark. "perhaps there'll be no diamonds left on the moon when we get there, jack," and he smiled jokingly. "oh, i fancy there will. the article in the paper from mars says there was a whole field of them." "this brings up another matter," said professor henderson. "what will happen if we bring back bushels and bushels of diamonds?--which, in view of what the paper says, may be possible. we will swamp the market, and the value of diamonds will drop." "then we must not throw them upon the market," decided professor roumann. "the scarcity of an article determines its value. if we do find plenty of diamonds, it will give me a chance to conduct some experiments i have long postponed because of a lack of the precious stones. we can use them for laboratory purposes, and need not sell them. in fact, with the cardite we brought back from mars, we have no lack of money, so we really do not need the diamonds." it was decided, in view of the shock and upset caused by the explosion, that no further work would be done that day, and so, after carefully locking the shed, and posting andy on guard with his gun, the boys and the professor went into the house to discuss matters, and plan for work the next day. "mark," said jack in a low voice, as they followed the two scientists, "i think it's up to us to try to find that mysterious man who sent the note. i think he did this mean trick!" "so do i, and we'll have a hunt for him. let's go now." chapter vi on the track the two boys gazed after professors henderson and roumann. the scientists were deep in a discussion of various technical matters, which discussion, it was evident, made them oblivious to everything else. "shall we ask them?" inquired jack in a whisper. "no; what's the use?" queried mark. "let's go off by ourselves, and perhaps we can discover something. if we could once get on the trail of the man who wrote the note, i think we could put our hands on the person responsible for the blowing up of the motor." "i agree with you. we won't bother them about our plans," and he waved his hand toward the scientists, who had, by this time, entered the house. "in the first place," said mark, as he and his chum turned from the yard, and walked along a quiet country road, "i think our best plan will be to find dick johnson, and ask him just where it was he met the man who gave him a quarter to bring the note to me." "what for?" asked jack. "why, then, we can tell where to start from. perhaps dick can give us a description of the man, or tell from what direction he came. then we'll know how to begin on the trail." "that's a good idea, i guess. we know where he disappeared to, or, rather, in nearly what direction, so that will help some." "sure. well, then, let's find dick." to the inquiries of the two lads from the projectile, dick johnson replied that, as he had asserted once before, that the man was a stranger to him. "he was tall, and had a big black mustache," dick described, "but he kept his hat pulled down over his eyes, so i couldn't see his face very well. anyhow, it was dark when i met him." "where did you meet him?" asked mark. "not far from your house. he was standing on the corner, where you turn down to go to the woollen mill, and, as i passed him, he asked me if i wanted to earn a quarter." "of course you said you did," suggested jack. "sure," replied dick. "then he gave me the note, and told me where to take it, and i did. that wasn't wrong, was it?" "no; only there seems to be something queer about the man, and we want to find out what it is," replied mark. "what was the man doing when you saw him?" asked jack. "standing, and sort of looking toward your house." "looking toward our house?" repeated jack. "was he anywhere near the big shed where we build the machines?" "well, i couldn't say. maybe he might have been." "i guess that's all you can tell us," put in mark, with a glance at his chum, to warn him not to go too much into details with dick, for they did not want it known that some enemy had tried to wreck the projectile. "yes, i can't tell you any more," admitted the small lad. "well, here's a quarter for what you did tell us," said jack, "and if you see that man again, and he gives you a note for us, just keep your eye on him, watch where he goes, and tell us. then you will get a half-dollar." "gee! i'll be on the watch," promised dick, his eyes shining at the prospect of so much money. "come on," suggested jack to his chum, after the small chap had departed. "let's go down by the white bridge and make some inquiries of people living in that vicinity. they may have seen a stranger hanging around, and, perhaps we can get on his trail that way." "all right," agreed mark, and they walked on together. they had gone quite a distance away from the bridge, and had made several inquiries, but had met with no success, and they were about to give up and go back home. "i know one person we haven't inquired of yet," said mark, as they tramped along. "who's that?" "old bascomb, who lives alone in a shack on the edge of the creek. you know the old codger who traps muskrats." "oh, sure; but i don't believe he'd know anything. if he did, he's so cranky he wouldn't tell you." "maybe he would, if we gave him a little money for some smoking tobacco. it's worth trying, anyhow. bascomb goes around a great deal, and he may have met a strange man in his travels." "well, go ahead; we'll ask him." the muskrat trapper did not prove to be in a very pleasant frame of mind, but, after mark had given him a quarter, bascomb consented to answer a few questions. the boys told him about looking for a strange man, describing him as best they could, though they did not tell why they wanted to find him. "wa'al, now, i shouldn't be surprised but what i know the very fellow you want," said the trapper. "i met him a couple of days back, an' i think he's still hanging around. fust i thought he was after some of my traps, but when i found he wa'ant, i didn't pay no more attention to him. he looked jest like you say." "where was he?" asked jack eagerly. "walkin' along the creek, sort of absent-minded like." "you don't know where he lives, or whether he is staying in this vicinity, do you?" inquired mark. "ya'as, i think i do," replied the trapper. "where?" cried jack eagerly. "wa'al, you know the old preakness homestead, down by the bend of the creek, about four mile below here?" "sure we know it," answered mark. "we used to go in swimming not far from there." "wa'al, the old house has been deserted now for quite a spell," went on the trapper, "and there ain't nobody lived in it but tramps. but the other night, when i was comin' past, with a lot of rats i'd jest taken out of my traps, i see a light in the old house. thinks i, to myself, that there's more tramps snoozin' in there, and i didn't reckon it was none of my business, so i kept on. but jest as i was walking past the main gate, some one come out of the house and hurried away. i had a good look at him, an'----" "who was it?" asked mark impatiently, for the old trapper was a slow talker. "it was the same man you're lookin' for," declared bascomb. "i'm sure of it, an' he's hangin' out in the old preakness house. if you want t' see him, why don't you go there?" "we will!" cried jack. "come on, mark. i think we're on the trail at last." chapter vii mark is captured eagerly the boys hurried forward, intent on making the best time possible to the old preakness homestead, which was a landmark for miles around, and which, in its day, had been a handsome house and estate. now it was fallen into ruins, for there was a dispute among the heirs, and the property was in the chancery court. "do you think we'll find him there?" asked mark, as they made their way along the dusty highway. "hard to tell. yet, if he's hanging out in this neighborhood, that would be as good a place as any, for him to hide in." "i wonder who he can be, anyhow? and how he knows me?" "give it up. evidently he isn't a tramp, though he stays in a place where there are plenty of the knights of the road." the boys increased their pace, and were soon on the main road leading to the preakness house, and about a mile away from it. "we'll soon be there now," remarked jack. "then we'll see if we can find that man." as he spoke, the lad put his hand in his pocket, and, a moment later, he uttered a startled cry. "what's the matter?" asked mark, in some alarm. "matter? why, gee whiz! if i haven't forgotten to send that telegram professor henderson gave me! it's to order some special tools to take along on our trip to the moon. they didn't come, and the professor wrote out a message urging the factory to hurry the shipment. he gave it to me to send, just before the accident to the motor, but when that happened it knocked it out of my mind, i guess. i stuck the telegram in my pocket, and here it is yet," and jack drew forth a crumpled paper. "wouldn't that make you tired?" he asked. "it's important, and ought to go at once. the professor won't like it." "i'll tell you what to do," suggested mark, after a moment's thought. "the telegraph office isn't so far away from here. you can cut across lots, and be there in fifteen or twenty minutes. tell 'em to rush the message, and it may be in time yet. anyhow, we're going to be delayed because of the accident to the motor, so it won't make so much difference. but come on, let's start, and we can hurry back." "i guess that's the best plan," remarked jack dubiously, for he did not fancy a half-hour's tramp across the fields and back again. then, as he thought of something else, he called out: "say, mark, there's no use of both of us going to the telegraph office. i'll go alone, as it's my fault, and you can stay here, and watch to see if that strange man appears on the scene. i'll not be long, and you can wait for me here." "how would it be if i went on a little nearer to the preakness house?" asked mark. "i can meet you there just as well as here, and something may develop." "good idea! you go on, and when i come back, i'll take the road that leads through the old slate quarry, and save some time that way. i'll meet you right near the old barn that stands on the gilbert property, just before you reach the preakness grounds." "all right; i'll be there, but don't run your legs off. we're out for all day, and there isn't anything that needs to be done at home, or around the projectile, so take your time." "oh, i'll not go to sleep," declared jack. "i want to see if we can't solve the mystery of the man who writes such queer notes." jack started off across the fields at a swift pace, while mark strolled on down the road, in the direction of the old preakness house. he was thinking of many things, chiefly of the wonderful journey that lay before them, and he was wondering what the moon would look like when they got to it. that it would be a wild, desolate place, he had no doubt, for the evidences of the telescopes of astronomers pointed that way, and, as is well known, the most powerful instruments can now bring the moon to within an apparent distance of one hundred miles of the earth. this is true of the lick telescope, which has a magnifying power of 2,500 and an object lens a yard across. but, with this powerful telescope, it has been impossible to distinguish any such objects as forests, cities, or any evidences of life on the moon--that is, on the side that has always been turned toward us. almost unconsciously, mark went on faster than he intended, and, before he knew it, he had arrived at the barn where he had promised to wait for his chum. mark looked at his watch, and found that he would still have some time to linger before he could expect jack to return. he sat down on a stone beside the fence, and looked about him. the day was warm for fall, and the last of the crickets were chirping away, while, in distant fields, men could be seen husking corn, or drawing in loads of yellow pumpkins. "i wonder if we'll have pumpkin pie on the moon," thought mark. "though, of course, we won't. i guess all we'll have to eat will be what washington takes along in the projectile--that is, unless we find people on the other side of the place." he sat on the stone for some minutes longer, and then, tiring of the inactivity, he arose and strolled about. something seemed to draw him in the direction of the old house, which he knew was just around the bend in the road. "i guess there wouldn't be any harm in my going along and taking a peep at it," mused the lad. "it will be some time before jack returns, and i may be able to catch a glimpse of our man. i think i'll go up where i can see the place, and i can come back in time to meet jack. i'll do it. maybe the fellow might escape while i'm waiting." mark thus tried to justify himself for his action in not keeping to his agreement with his chum. of course it was not an important matter, mark thought, though the results of his simple action were destined to be more far-reaching than he imagined. he thought he would be back in time to meet jack, and so he strolled on, going more cautiously now, for, in a few minutes he would come in sight of the old, deserted house, and he did not know what he might find there. mark's first sight of the preakness homestead was of two old stone posts, that had once formed a fine gateway. the posts were in ruins, now, and half fallen down, being covered with virginia creeper, the leaves of which were now a vivid red, mingled with green. "nothing very alarming there," said mark, half aloud. he could just catch a glimpse of the roof of the house over the tops of the trees, which had not yet shed all their leaves. "guess i'll go on a little farther. maybe our friend, the enemy, is sitting on the front porch, sunning himself." past the old gateway mark continued, intending to proceed along the highway until he got directly in front of the old mansion. there, he knew, he would have a good view, unobstructed by trees or shrubbery. when the lad got to this place in the road, he paused, and stooped over, as if tying the lace of his shoe, for it was his intention to pass himself off, if possible, as a casual passer-by, so that in case the mysterious man should be in the house, his suspicions would not be aroused by seeing the youth to whom he had written the note staring in at him. and, while he was apparently fussing with his shoe, mark was narrowly eying the old house. "not a very inviting place," thought mark. "i don't see why any man who could afford anything better, would stay there--unless he has some strong motive for lingering in this section. and that's probably what this fellow has, and i'd like to discover it. well, i don't see any signs of him, so i guess i might as well go back, and wait for jack. he'll be along soon." he stood up, took a good look at the house, and was about to retrace his steps down the highway, when he saw the sagging front door of the old mansion slowly open. it creaked on the rusty hinges, and mark stared with all his might as he saw a man emerge, a man who did not look like a tramp, for his clothes were of good material and cut, and fit him well. nor did he wear a stubbly growth of beard, but, on the contrary, his face was clean shaven. the man was about mark's size, perhaps a little taller, and nearly as stout. he stood on the sagging porch, and gazed off toward the road. "well, if that's the man dick johnson got the note from he's changed mightily in appearance," thought mark, as he looked at the fellow. "he isn't very tall, and he hasn't any black mustache. but of course he may have shaved that off, and i suppose in the dark, and when one is in a hurry to earn a quarter, it's hard to say whether a man is tall or short. i wonder if this can be the person we're looking for?" mark hardly knew what to do. he stood in the road, undecided, and fairly stared at the man, who had left the porch, and was walking down the weed-grown path. he was looking straight at mark, but if the stranger was the person who had written the note, and if he recognized the lad, he gave no sign to that effect. "good afternoon," said the man, as he paused at the gap in the front wall, where once a gate had been. "pleasant day, isn't it." "ye--yes," stammered mark, wondering what to say next. "live around here?" went on the man. "not very far off." "ah, then you know this old shack?" "well, i don't get over here, very often. do you live here?" ventured mark boldly, determining to do some questioning on his own account. "me live here?" cried the man, as if indignant "well, hardly! i was just passing, and, happening to see the old place, and having a fondness for antiques, i stepped in. but it is in bad shape. i should say tramps make it their hangout." "it has that name," said mark. there was a pause for a moment, and the lad was a trifle embarrassed. the man was gazing boldly at him. "i guess i've made a mistake," thought mark. "this can't be the man we want. he doesn't live here, and he doesn't look like him. i'd better be getting back to meet jack." "are you engaged at anything in particular?" questioned the man taking a few steps nearer the youth. "no, i'm not working, but i expect to take a trip, shortly, with some friends of mine," answered mark. "ah, is that so?" and there was polite inquiry in the man's voice. "are you going far?" "quite a distance." mark wondered what the man would say if he told him he was going to the moon. "i wonder if you would do me a favor?" went on the man. "as i was passing through this old house i saw, on one of the outer doors, an old-fashioned knocker. i am a collector of antiques, and i would very much like to have that. but i need help in getting it off. i do not intend to steal it, but if it is left here some tramp may destroy it, and that would be too bad. i intend to remove it, and then hunt up the owners of this place, and purchase it from them." "it will be hard to discover who are the owners," replied mark, "as the title is in dispute." "so much the better for me. will you help me remove the knocker? i will pay you for your time." mark hesitated. he did not like the man's manner, and there was a shifty, uneasy look about his eyes. still he might be all right. but mark did not like the idea of going into the old house with him alone. it might be safe, and, again, it might not. but the knocker was on an outside door. there could be no harm in helping him, as long as it was outside. the man saw the hesitation in the lad's manner. "it will not take us long," the stranger said. "i want you to help me pry off the knocker, as i have no screw-driver to remove it. i will pay you well." as he spoke he came nearer to mark, and the lad noticed that the man's right hand was held behind his back. this struck mark as rather suspicious. suddenly he became aware of a peculiar odor in the air--a sweet, sickish odor. he started back in alarm, all his former suspicions aroused. the man seemed to leap toward him. "look out!" suddenly cried the fellow. "look behind you!" involuntarily mark turned. he saw nothing alarming. the next instant he felt himself grasped in the strong arms of the man, and a cloth that smelled strongly of the strange, sweetly sickish odor was pressed over the lad's face. "here! stop! let me go! help! help!" cried mark. then his voice died out. he felt weak and sick, and sank back, an inert mass in the man's arms. "i guess i've got you this time," whispered the fellow, as he gazed down on mark's white face. "i'll put you where you won't get away, either," and, picking up the youth, he carried him a prisoner into the deserted house. chapter viii jack is puzzled whistling merrily, with his mind as much on the big field of diamonds he expected to discover on the moon, as it was on anything else, jack darrow crossed over the meadows toward the telegraph office. "by jinks! it certainly will be great to fly through space once more," he mused. "of course it isn't much of a trip, only a quarter of a million miles at most, but it will be a little outing for us, and then those diamonds!" a trip of a quarter of a million miles only a little outing! but then what can be expected of lads who had gone to mars and back again? jack lost no time in reaching the telegraph office, where he left the message to be sent, urging the operator to "rush" it, which that official promised to do. "'twon't be no great hardship on me, neither," he said with a cheerful grin, "seein' as how this is the only one i've had to send to-day. i'll get it right off for you, jack." jack meant to hurry back, but, just as he was turning out of the main village street, to cut across lots, and join mark at the place agreed upon, jack saw two dogs fighting. it was with the best intentions in the world that he ran toward them, for he wanted to separate them. however a man was ahead of him, and soon had the two beasts apart. but jack lingered several moments to see if there would be a renewal of the hostilities. there wasn't, and he hurried on. in a short time he was within sight of the barn, where his chum had agreed to meet him. "mark!" cried jack, when he came within hailing distance. there was no response. "maybe he's hiding to fool me," thought the lad, "i'll give him another call." neither was there a reply to this shout, and jack, with a vague feeling of fear in his heart, hurried forward, climbed the fence that separated the field from the highway, and fairly ran toward the barn. a glance sufficed to show that mark was not in sight, and, thinking that his chum might be on the other side, jack went around the structure. "oh, you mark!" he called. "i'm back! let's get a move on and go to the old house." silence was the only answer. "that's queer," murmured jack, when he had made a circuit of the place, and had seen no sight of his friend. "i wonder if anything could have happened to him? perhaps he went inside, and has fallen down the hay mow. i'll take a look." he made a thorough inspection of the ramshackle old structure, but there was no evidence that mark had entered it, and jack was soon quite assured that no harm had befallen his friend in there. then a sudden thought came to him. "why, of course!" he exclaimed aloud. "i should have thought of that before. mark got tired of waiting, and went on to the preakness house. i might have known. i'll go on and catch up to him there." jack had reasoned correctly, but he could not know, what had taken place with only the old, grim, deserted mansion for a witness. with a lighter heart he set off down the road. it did not take him long, at the pace he kept up, to come within sight of the old gateway, with the creeper twining over the pillars. then he caught a glimpse of the house, and he at once slackened his footsteps. "no use rushing into this thing," he reasoned in a whisper. "mark may be in hiding, taking an observation of the mysterious man, and i don't want to spoil it, by butting in. guess i'll lie low for a while, and see what develops." crouching down beside some bushes that lined the roadway jack looked toward the silent, tumbled-down house and waited. all was still. occasionally a shutter flapped in the wind, the hinges creaking dismally, or some of the loose window-panes rattled as the sash was blown to and fro. it was not a pleasant aspect, and as the afternoon was waning, and the sun was going down, while a cool wind sprang up, jack was anything but comfortable in his place of observation. and the one objection to it was that there was nothing to observe. not a sign of life was to be seen about the place, and the broken windows, like so many unblinking eyes, stared out on the fields and road. "oh pshaw!" exclaimed jack at length, "i'm not going to sit here this way! i'm going up and take a look. it can't bite me, and if that man's in there i can give him some sort of a talk that will make it look all right. i'm going closer. maybe mark's inside there, waiting for me, though it's queer why he didn't keep his agreement and wait for me at the barn. well, here goes." though he spoke bravely, it was not without a little feeling of apprehension that jack started toward the old mansion. he kept a close watch for the advent of any person or persons who might be in the house, but, when he reached the front porch, and had seen no one, he felt more at ease. "hello, mark!" he cried boldly. "are you inside?" he paused for an answer. none came. "this is getting rather strange," murmured jack, who was now quite puzzled as to what to make of the whole matter. "mark must be here, yet why doesn't he answer me? oh, you mark!" he shouted at the top of his voice. there was only silence, and, after waiting a few moments jack made up his mind that the best plan would be to enter the house and look around. he made a hasty search through the lower rooms, but saw no sign of mark. it was the same upstairs, and on the third floor there was no evidence of his chum. jack called again, but got no reply. "the garret next, and then the cellar," he told himself, and these two places, darker and more dismal than any other parts of the old mansion, were soon explored. "well, if mark came here he's not here now," thought jack, "and there's no use in my staying any longer. maybe something happened that he had to go back home. perhaps he's trailing the man. we should have made up some plan to be followed in case anything like that happened." deciding that the best thing he could do would be to go back home jack came out of the old house. as he did so he gave a final call: "mark! oh, you mark! are you anywhere about?" what was that? was it an answer, or merely the echo of his own voice? jack started, and then, as he heard another sound, he said: "only the wind squeaking a shutter. mark isn't here." if jack had only known! through the quickly-gathering darkness jack turned his steps toward home. on the way along the country road he kept a sharp lookout for any sign of his chum, and, also, he looked to see if he could catch a glimpse of any person who might answer the description of the man they suspected of tampering with the cardite motor. but the road was deserted, save for an occasional farmer urging his horses along, that he might the more quickly get home to supper. "it's mighty strange," mused jack, as he kept on. "i don't think mark did just right, and yet, perhaps, when it's all explained, he may have good reasons for what he did. maybe i'm wrong to worry about him, and, just as likely as not, he's safe home, wondering what kept me. but he might have known that i'd come back to the barn where i said i'd meet him. of course that dog-fight delayed me a little, but not much." it was quite dark when jack reached the house where he and his chum lived with the two professors. there was a cheerful light glowing from many windows, and jack also noticed an illumination in the shed where the projectile was housed. "guess they're working on it, to get it in shape for the trip, sooner than they expected," he mused. jack was met at the door by washington white. "hello, wash!" greeted the lad. "good land a' massy! where hab yo' been transmigatorying yo'se'f during de period when the conglomeration of carbohydrates and protoids hab been projected on to de interplanetary plane ob de rectangle?" "do you mean where have i been while supper was getting ready?" asked jack. "dat's 'zackly what i means, massa jack." "then why don't you say it?" "i done did. dat's what i done. supper's cold. but where am massa mark?" "what! isn't mark home?" cried jack, starting back in alarm. "no, massa jack, we ain't seed him sence yo' two went off togedder. where yo' all been?" "mark not home!" gasped mark. "where is professor henderson, wash? i must speak to him at once." "he am out in de shed wif massa roumann." with fear in his heart jack dashed out toward the big shed. "ain't yo' goin' t' hab some supper?" called washington. "i don't want any supper--yet," flung back jack over his shoulder. chapter ix a daring plot mark sampson lay an inert mass in the arms of the man who had attacked him. through the sagging door of the old, deserted house the captive lad was carried, and up creaking stairs. "i guess no one saw me," whispered the man. "i'm safe, so far, and i can work my scheme to perfection. everything turned out well for me. i was just wondering how i could get this youth in my power, and he fairly walked into my hands! now to keep him safe until i can take his place in the projectile, and have my revenge. i have waited a long time for it, but it has come at last!" pausing at the head of the creaking stairs the man looked behind him, to make sure that he was not being followed, but not a sound broke the stillness of the old house, save the rattle and bang of the ruined shutters. "i'm safe! safe!" exulted the man, with a cruel chuckle. "now to bind him, and hide him in the secret chamber." he laid mark down on a pile of bagging in a corner of a room at the head of the stairs. then, still glancing behind him, as if fearful of being observed, the man walked over to a mantlepiece, fumbled about a bit of carving that adorned the centre, and pressed on a certain spot. a moment later the mantle seemed to swing out, and there was revealed a secret room, the existence of which would never have been suspected by the casual observer. taking some of the bags from the pile where the unconscious lad was, the man made a rude bed in the secret room. then he carried mark in, and placed him in a fairly comfortable position, first taking the precaution, however, of binding his hands and feet. "there," whispered the man, when he had finished, "i guess you'll not get away in a hurry. now i'll wait until dark, and then i'll give you something to eat, for i don't want you to starve. but i must keep in hiding, for, very likely, there'll be a search made for him. guess i'd better stay here, and see what happens," and the mysterious man pressed the spring that sent the mantle back into place again, hiding all traces of the secret room. "it's a good thing i stumbled upon this hiding place," he said to himself. "it couldn't be better for what i want. now to see what happens next." he did not have long to wait, for in a short time jack, as we have seen, appeared on the scene, and began his search. at the sound of his voice, calling for mark, the man started in his hiding place, and glanced uneasily at mark. "he may hear, and wake up," he whispered. jack came upstairs in the deserted house, and continued his search there, calling from time to time. he gave one loud shout at the head of the stairs, and the very thing that the man feared would happen came to pass. the effect of the drug having worn off, mark stirred uneasily, and started up. he heard jack's cry, and uttered a half-articulate answer. in an instant the man was at his side, and had quickly gagged him. this had the further effect of awakening the unfortunate lad; and he struggled to loosen his bonds, but they were too strongly tied. he endeavored to answer jack, but only a meaningless mumble resulted, for the gag was effective. "all you have to do is to keep quiet," urged the man, as he knelt beside mark in the darkness. "as soon as your chum goes, i'll take that thing out of your mouth, and give you something to eat." jack's voice died away, and presently, as the ears of the man told him, the boy left the old house. waiting some time, to make sure that he would not return, the man removed the knot of rags from mark's mouth, and slightly loosened his bonds, first warning him, however, that if he attempted to escape he would be harshly dealt with. "but what right have you to keep me here?" demanded the youth. "who are you, and what have i done to you, that you should treat me this way? are you crazy? don't you know that you are liable to arrest for this?" "no one can arrest me," boasted the fellow. "but why have you made me a prisoner?" demanded mark. "for reasons of my own. you'll see very soon." "but what have i done to you?" persisted the lad. "i never saw you before, that i know of, unless you are the man who sent me the note, and who ran when my chum and i came to the bridge to meet you." "i'm the man," was the answer, with a chuckle. "then you must be the one who tried to wreck our projectile," went on mark. "yes, i did that, and now i am sorry for it, for i have thought of a much better scheme for getting even, and having my revenge on you." "but why do you want to be revenged on us?" "because of what you have done!" and the man's voice took on an ugly tone. "but what did we do?" begged mark. "you'll know soon enough," was the answer, with a cunning laugh, and then mark was sure he had to deal with a lunatic. he ceased his struggles to loosen the bonds, and resolved to meet cunning with cunning. he would bide his time. "will you promise to be quiet, and not kick up a fuss if i get you something to eat?" asked the man. "yes; but i'd rather have a drink of water first. i feel sick." "very well, you shall have some water. i'll have to go out and get it, but i must first blindfold you, so that you will not discover the secret of this room." mark could not help himself, for he was bound, and when the man had tied a handkerchief over his eyes, mark heard his captor moving about. next there came a sound as of some heavy body, or object, being pushed across the room. mark felt a draught of wind on his face, but it ceased instantly, and he knew that he was alone. he tried to work the bandage from over his eyes, and he endeavored to loosen his bonds, for he did not consider that this violated his promise. but it was of no effect. presently he heard the moving, shoving sound again, and once more felt the wind on his face. then he heard the voice of his captor speaking. "here is food and drink. i'm going to untie your hands so you can eat, but mind, no fighting, for i'm a desperate man, and i won't stand any nonsense!" he fumbled about the bonds, and soon mark was free to stand up and use his hands. the bandage was taken from his eyes, and he was able to peer about his prison by the light of a candle which his captor had brought. mark's first glance was at the man. he was the same one who had emerged from the house to attack and drug him, but as for recognizing in him the person who had been at the bridge, this was impossible. as far as mark could tell he had never seen the man before, nor did he answer the description given by dick johnson. there was little danger that mark would attempt violence. he was too weak, and his jailer seemed a powerful fellow. then, too, the lad felt ill from the effects of the drug. "drink some water, and eat a bit, and you'll feel better," urged the man, which advice mark followed, though, his appetite was not of the best, and he was much worried as to what his friends would think about his strange disappearance. "what do you intend to do with me?" asked mark, when he felt a little better from the effects of the food and drink. the man had sat on an old soap box, and watched his captive while he ate. "do with you? why, i'm going to keep you here until your friends have left in the projectile," was the answer. "but why don't you want me to go with them?" "oh, i have my reasons. you'll find out soon enough. you can't go, that's all." "but why do you take such an interest in me? why didn't you capture my chum jack, too, while you were about it?" "two reasons. one was that jack wouldn't answer my purpose, and the other was that i didn't have a chance to get him. you walked right into my trap, just when i was doing my best to think of another plan to get hold of you, since my first one failed." "but what is your purpose?" insisted the lad. "what do you want with me?" he thought perhaps if he questioned the man closely enough he might discover something that would give him a clew, or might aid him to escape. "you'll learn soon enough," was the answer. "will you tell me your name?" asked marie quietly. "no--why should i?" was the quick reply. "if i told you who i was you would at once know why i have made you a captive here. no; you shall hear all in good time, but that will not be until i am ready. "now," went on his captor, after a period of silence, "i shall have to bind and blindfold you again." "why?" asked mark, in some alarm. "because i don't want you to see how i get in and out of this room, and that's the only way i can guard my secret. though if you promise not to remove the bandage from your eyes within five minutes from the time i leave you, i will not have to tie your hands and feet. after i am gone you may take the handkerchief off, but when you hear me rap on the wall, ready to come back again, you must once more blindfold yourself. otherwise i shall have to tie you up." mark considered a moment. it was not pleasant to be tied with the cruel ropes, and he felt that in time he could penetrate the mystery of how the room opened, even if he did not see his jailer enter and leave. "i promise," he said finally. "that's good. it simplifies matters. now you can blindfold yourself, and i trust to your honor. you may remove the bandage in five minutes, but when you hear me knock, you must replace it until i am in the apartment. then you can take it off again." there was little choice but to obey, and mark tied the handkerchief over his eyes. he listened intently, heard the man moving about the room, felt the wind on his cheeks, and then came silence. he waited until he thought five minutes had passed, and then took off the bandage. the candle was burning where the man had set it, but the fellow himself was gone. he had taken with him the broken dishes, and remains of the food mark had not eaten. the glass and a pitcher of water stood on a broken table, and mark took a big drink. "now to see if i can't get out of this place," he murmured to himself. mark had invented many pieces of apparatus, and he was considered a good mechanician. consequently he went about his task in a systematic manner. he examined the walls carefully by the candle, which he carried in his hand, but no opening was apparent. "of course, there must be some secret spring to press," said the lad. "that's how he gets in and out. a section of the wall moves, but where it is i can't see. it will take time. i must look at every inch." he was in the midst of his investigations when there sounded on the wall back of him three raps. "ha! at least, that tells me where the opening is," thought the lad. "it's on that side, but now i have to put that blamed bandage on. well, i may be able to escape yet." true to his promise, he blindfolded himself well, and presently he heard a noise, felt a draught of air, and he knew his captor was in the room. "you can now take off the handkerchief," said the man. "i have brought you some more bags for bed clothing. it isn't much, but it is all i have. they will keep you warm tonight." "are you going to imprison me over night?" asked mark. "yes, and i'll stay here with you. no one can find us here. the secret room is well hidden. but first i have another matter that needs attention. i am going to ask you a question." "what?" asked the captive, wondering what strange request the mentally unbalanced man would make now. the man leaned forward and whispered something in mark's ear, as if he was afraid the very walls would hear. "i'll not do it!" cried the youth. "i'll never aid you to deceive my friends, for that is your object. i'll never do it!" "then i shall have to use force," was the determined response. "you may take your choice!" poor mark did not know what to do, yet there was little he could choose between. the man had him in his power, yet the lad was terribly afraid of the result of the daring scheme which he knew was in the mind of the lunatic, for such he believed the man to be. "will you not give up this plan?" begged mark. "i know professor henderson will pay you any sum in reason to let me go. you can become a rich man." "i don't want riches--i want revenge!" exclaimed the man. and he glared at mark, while throughout the dismal, deserted house there sounded the rattle and bang of the flapping shutters. chapter x mark's strange actions jack darrow fairly burst into the big shed where the two scientists were at work over the ruined motor. they looked up at his excitable entrance, and mr. henderson called out: "why, jack, what's the matter?" "quite a lot, i'm afraid," answered the lad, and there was that in his voice which alarmed the professors. "what do you mean?" inquired mr. roumann, laying aside some of the damaged motor plates. "mark's gone!" gasped jack. "gone! where?" exclaimed mr. henderson. "i don't know, but he went to the deserted house, where we thought the mysterious man was hiding, and since then i can't find him." then the frightened lad proceeded to explain what he and mark had undertaken, and the outcome of it; how his chum had failed to meet him at the rendezvous, and how jack had searched through the old house without result. "there's but one thing to do," declared professor henderson, when he had listened to the story. "we must go back there and make a more thorough search." "what--to-night?" exclaimed the german. "surely. why not? we can't leave mark there all alone. he may be hurt, or in trouble." "that's what i think," said jack. "i'll tell washington and andy, and we'll go back and hunt for him. poor mark! if he had only waited for me, perhaps this would never have happened, and if i hadn't stopped at the dog-fight maybe mark would have waited for me. well, it's too late to worry about that now. the thing is to find him; and i guess we can." jack would not stop longer than to snatch a hasty bite of supper before he joined the searching party. washington and he carried lanterns, while andy sudds had his trusty rifle, and the two professors brought up in the rear, armed with stout clubs, for jack's account of the affair made them think that perhaps they might have to deal with a violent man. "hadn't you better notify the police?" suggested andy. "a couple of constables would be some help." "not very much," declared jack. "besides, there are only two in bayside, and it's hard to locate either one when you want them. i guess we can manage alone." "yes, i would rather not notify the police if it can be avoided," said professor henderson. the searching party hurried along the country highway, which was now deserted, as it was quite dark. their lanterns flashed from side to side, but they had no hope of getting any trace of mark until they came to the old barn, at least, though jack wished several times that he might meet his chum running toward them along the road. they reached the barn in due course, and while washington, jack and andy began a search of it, the two scientists went up to the house of the man who owned it and enlisted his aid. they asked him if he had seen mark around that afternoon, but the farmer had not. "but me an' my hired man'll come out and help you hunt through the barn," he said. "i remember once, when i was a lad, that my brother fell off the hay mow and lay unconscious in a manger for five hours before we found him. maybe that's what's happened to this young man," suggested mr. hampton, which was the farmer's name. "i looked around pretty well this afternoon," explained jack, when the farmer and his man had reached the barn, "but, of course, i didn't know all the nooks and corners." a thorough search of the structure, however, failed to reveal the presence of mark, and then the farmer volunteered to accompany the party on to the old preakness house. his offer was received with thanks, and, bringing two more lanterns with them, mr. hampton and his man added considerable to the illumination. they went through the old mansion from garret to cellar, and called repeatedly, but there was no answer. and good reason, for in the secret room, with his captive, the mysterious man heard the first approach of the searching party; and he quickly bound mark and gagged him, so that he could not answer. there was nothing to do but to leave, and it was with sad hearts that jack and his friends departed, their search having been unavailing. they turned toward home, which they reached quite late, but found nothing disturbed. no one in professor henderson's house slept much that night, and in the morning pale and wan faces looked at each other, all asking the same question: "where is mark?" but no one could answer. they talked over the matter, and decided that jack, with andy and washington, should form a searching party to scour the surrounding country. the two scientists were too old for such work, and, as the aid of the police was not desired, it was felt that the three could do all that was necessary. accordingly, while professor henderson and his german friend went to work on the damaged motor, which did not need as much repairing as at first was thought to put it in working shape again, jack and the two men started off to hunt for mark. they were gone all that day, returning very much discouraged at dusk, saying that they could get no trace of him. "i don't see where he can be!" exclaimed jack desperately, for, though the two lads were not related, they had been friends so long, and had shared so many pleasures and dangers together, that they were like brothers. "you won't start for the moon until you find him, will you, professor?" asked jack. "no, indeed; though we could start to-morrow if he was here," replied the aged scientist. "the special tools came to-day, and the motor has been repaired. we have tested it, and the cardite power works even better than did the etherium apparatus." "then we can start as soon as mark is found?" asked andy sudds. "yes, for everything has been put inside the projectile, and all that remains is to haul it out of the shed, point it at the moon, and start the motor." "then i guess i'll give my gun a final cleaning, and get ready. there may be good hunting on the moon," said the old hunter. jack was tired from his long tramp that day, searching for his missing chum, but before he went to bed he wanted to go out and take a look at the big projectile, which was now ready to start for the moon. as he turned around the corner of the immense shed to enter the door, he was startled by seeing a figure coming toward him. jack started, rubbed his eyes, and peered again. "is it possible? can i be mistaken?" he whispered. the figure came nearer. jack, who had come to a halt, broke into a run. "mark! mark!" he cried joyously. "oh, you've come back! where have you been?" jack was about to clasp his chum in his arms when he saw that mark's arm was in a sling, and that his face was all bandaged up, so that scarcely any of his features showed. had it not been for the clothes, and a certain stoutness of which mark never could seem to get rid, jack would scarcely have known his friend. "why, mark, what happened?" cried jack. "have you met with an accident? where have you been? in a hospital? what became of you? why didn't you wait for me?" "i can't answer all those questions at once," was the reply, and jack thought mark's voice was curiously muffled and hoarse, entirely unlike his usual tones. but he ascribed that to the bandages around the mouth. "well, answer one at a time then," said jack, and there was an undefinable, strange air about his chum which cooled jack's first impulse of gladness. "whatever happened to you, mark? are you hurt?" "i was--yes," came the reply, in short, jerky tones. "i had an accident, and i've been in a hospital. that's why i couldn't send you word. but i'm all right now. when does the projectile start?" "to-morrow, now that you're here. but tell me more about it. where were you hurt?" "on my head and arm." "no; i mean where did the accident occur?" "oh, in the old house where i went to--to look for that man." "did you find him?" asked jack eagerly. "no. he's not there now." "well, never mind. we won't bother about him. come on to the house. my, but i'm glad to see you again! and so will the others be." in his enthusiasm at seeing his chum again jack wanted to hug him. he approached mark, but the latter cried out: "look out! don't come too close!" "why not? have you caught some disease?" "no, but you might hurt my broken arm!" "oh, is it broken? that's tough luck. did you fall?" "yes--in the old house. i fell down stairs." "and your head is all bandaged up, too," went on jack, trying to peer into his friend's face through the roll of bandages. "look out! don't come too near!" again warned the other. "you might jostle against me, and knock off some of the bandages." "did you lose some of your teeth, the reason your voice sounds so funny?" asked jack. "yes, i did knock out a few when i tumbled. but don't bother about me. i'll be all right soon. let's go in the house. i want to go to bed." "but they'll all want to see you, and hear about the accident, mark," insisted jack. "my, but we've been all worked up about you. how did you happen to be taken to a hospital?" "a farmer came along, and i hailed him. then i lost consciousness, and couldn't let you know where i was. but never mind the details. i'm anxious to get started on the trip to the moon. couldn't we start to-night?" "i don't believe so. you need rest. but come on in the house." then jack hurried on ahead, calling: "mark's found! mark is back!" his cries brought all of the others out on the porch, and at first they could scarcely believe the good news, but soon jack and the new arrival came in sight. as jack had been, the two professors and the others were startled when they saw how mark was bundled up in bandages. "he fell down stairs," explained jack. "come over here where it's light, so i can see you," suggested professor henderson. "perhaps some of the bandages have slipped off since you came from the hospital. why did you come alone? why didn't you send us word where you were as soon as you were conscious, and we would have come for you." "oh, i didn't want to bother you," explained the bundled-up figure. "i managed to walk it all right." "but your injuries may need attention," insisted mr. henderson. "i know something about doctoring. come here where i can see." "no--no--the--light hurts my eyes," was the hasty reply. "i guess i'll go to bed, so as to be all ready to start in the morning. why don't you leave for the moon to-night, professor?" "there are still a few little details to look after. but are you sure you are well enough to go with us? we may meet with hardships up on the moon." "oh, i'm all ready to go," was the answer. "i'd start to-night if i could. but now i must get to bed." "don't you want supper?" asked jack. "no, i had some just before i left the hospital." "what hospital was it?" inquired andy sudds. "i was in one once, and i didn't like it. there wa'nt enough air for me." "i forget the name of the place," came the reply. "i can't think clearly. i need sleep." the newcomer kept in the shadows of the room, as if the light hurt his eyes, and appeared restless and ill at ease. with the hand that was not in a sling he pulled the bandages closer about his face. "can't you tell us more about what happened?" asked jack, for mark was not usually so reticent, and his chum noticed it. "there isn't much to tell," was the response. "i went to the old house, and i was looking around when i happened to tumble down stairs. i must have been knocked unconscious, but when i came to i crawled outside. a farmer was driving past, and i asked him to take me to a hospital." "why didn't you come home?" asked mr. henderson. "oh, i didn't want to make any trouble and delay work on the projectile. i figured that i could be with you in a few hours, and you wouldn't worry. but they insisted that i must stay in the hospital when they got me there. then i lost consciousness again, and couldn't manage to let you know where i was. but i'm all right now." "why didn't you wait for me at the barn, when i went to send the telegram, as you promised you would?" asked jack, who felt a little hurt at his chum's neglect. "did i promise to wait for you at some barn?" "yes; don't you remember?" and jack gazed at the bandaged figure in surprise. "oh, yes--i--i guess i do. but i want to go to bed now," and pulling the cloths closer about his face the injured one started from the apartment. "here. that's not the way up to your room. the stairs are over here," called jack, for he saw the newcomer taking the wrong direction. "oh, yes. guess my mind must be wandering," and with an uneasy laugh the injured one turned about. they heard him going up stairs, and a little later jack followed. he found that mark's room was not occupied. "hi, mark! where are you?" he called, in some alarm. "here," was the answer, and the voice came from jack's own apartment. "well, you're in the wrong bunk." "am i? well, i must have made another mistake. my head can't be right," and with that the other came out and hastily went into the adjoining apartment. for a moment jack stood in the hall. he looked at the door that had closed behind the bandaged figure. "there's something wrong," said jack in a low voice. "how strange mark acts! i wonder what can be the matter?" chapter xi ready for the moon there were busy times for the moon-voyagers the next day. they were up early, for at the last moment many little details needed to be settled. the cardite motor had been thoroughly repaired, for the damage caused by the unknown enemy had done no permanent harm. when the injured one appeared the bandage on his head seemed larger than ever, and his features were almost hidden. he still wore his arm in a sling. "well, how do you feel?" asked jack, looking narrowly at the figure. he could not get rid of a suspicion that something was wrong with mark. "oh, i'm feeling pretty fair," was the mumbled answer. "i didn't sleep much, though." "well, take care of yourself," advised jack. "we are about ready to start. we'll get off about noon, professor henderson says. don't try to do anything and injure your broken arm. you certainly had a tough time of it." "yes, i guess i did. i can't do much to help you." "you don't need to. we're all but finished. just hang around and watch me work. there isn't much to do." but though jack gave an invitation to remain near him, the other seemed to prefer being off by himself. he wandered in and out of the projectile, now and then helping andy or washington to carry light objects into the _annihilator_. but all the while he was careful not to disturb the bandage on his face, and several times he stopped to readjust it. nor did he talk much, which jack ascribed to his statement that his teeth hurt him. and when the bandaged figure did speak, it was in mumbling tones, very different from mark's usually cheerful ones. "well," remarked professor roumann, after a final inspection of the big cardite motor--the one that was to be depended on to carry them to the moon--"i think we are about ready to leave this earth. how about it, professor henderson?" "yes, i think so. have you made any calculation as to speed?" "yes, we will not have to move nearly as fast as we did when we went to mars. we only have to cover a quarter of a million of miles at the most, and probably less than that. the motor will send us along at the rate of about a mile a second, which is three thousand six hundred miles an hour, or eighty-six thousand four hundred miles a--day. at that rate we would be at the moon in less than three days. "but i don't want to travel as fast as that," the german went on. "i want time to make some scientific observations on the way, and so i have reduced the speed of the cardite motor by half, though should we need to hasten our trip we can do so." "then we'll be about a week on the way?" asked jack. "about that, yes," assented mr. roumann. "and could we go farther than to the moon if we wanted to?" inquired the bandaged figure mumblingly. "farther? what do you mean?" asked professor henderson quickly. "i mean could we go to mars if we wanted to?" "you don't mean to say you want to go back there, and run the chance of being attacked by the savage martians, do you?" asked jack. "no, i was only asking," and the other seemed confused. "well, of course, we _could_ go there, as we have plenty of supplies and enough of the cardite," said mr. roumann. "but i think the moon will be the limit of our trip this time." the work went on, the last things to be put aboard the projectile being a number of scientific instruments. the injured one wandered in and out, now being in the house and again in the big shed. he seemed restless and ill at ease, and frequently he walked to the front gate and gazed down the road. "you seem to be looking for some one," spoke jack. "are you expecting your girl to come along and bid you good-by, mark?" "who--me? no, i--i was just looking to see if--if it was going to rain." "rain? well, rain won't make much difference to us soon. we will be outside of the earth's atmosphere in a jiffy after we have started, and then rain won't worry us. is your stateroom all fixed up?" "no, i didn't think of that. guess i'd better look after it." the two started together for the projectile. the stout one entered first, and made his way through the engine room and main cabin to the compartment off which the staterooms opened. he entered one. "here, that's not yours," cried jack. "that's where professor henderson sleeps. yours is next to mine." "that's right; i forgot," mumbled the other. "i must be getting absent minded since my accident. but i'll be all right soon. i'll get my room to rights, and then probably we'll start." "i guess so," answered jack, but he shook his head as he gazed after his chum. "mark has certainly changed," he murmured. "i wish he'd take those bandages off, so i could get a look at his face." the last details were completed. the big _annihilator_ had been run out on trucks into the yard surrounding the shed, ready to be hurled through the air. the shop, shed and house had been locked up and given in charge of a caretaker, who would remain on guard until our friends returned. "are we all ready?" asked professor henderson, as he stood ready to close the main entrance door and seal it hermetically. "all ready, i guess," answered jack. the stout one had gone to his stateroom, where he could be heard moving about. "i'm ready," announced professor roumann. "say the word and i'll start the motor." he was in the engine room, looking over the machinery. at that moment there came a loud yell from the galley where washington white was. "heah, heah! come back!" cried the colored man. "my shanghai rooster is got loose!" he yelled, and, an instant later, the fowl came sailing out of the projectile, with washington in full chase after him. "i'll help you catch him," volunteered jack, springing to the cook's aid, while professor henderson laughed, and a bandaged figure, looking from a stateroom port, wondered at the delay in starting the projectile. chapter xii mark's escape mark sampson was alone in the deserted house. bound hand and foot, stripped of his clothing, and attired in some old garments that the tramps who made a hanging-out place of the old mansion had cast aside, the unfortunate lad was stretched on a pile of bagging, his heart beating partly with fear and partly with rage over a desire to escape and punish the scoundrel responsible for his plight. the man who had captured him, after taking away mark's clothes, had chuckled, as though at some joke. "you may think this is funny," spoke the lad bitterly, "but you won't be so pleased when my friends get after you." "they'll never get after me," boasted the man. "this is a good joke. to think that i can pass myself off as you; that i can join them in the projectile, and they never will be the wiser!" "they'll soon discover that you are disguised as me," declared mark, "and when they do they'll have you arrested." "yes, but they'll not discover it until we have left the earth, and are on our way to the moon. then it will be too late to turn back, and my object will have been accomplished. i will be with them in the _annihilator_, and i'll have my revenge! the projectile is due to sail to-morrow, and i'll be on hand. i'm going to leave you now. i have left orders with a friend of mine that you are to be released to-morrow night. in the meanwhile you will have to be as comfortable as you can. i wish you no harm, but i must keep you here. "i will feed you well before i go, and put some water where you can get it. but i must leave you tied. i'll not gag you, for, no matter how you yell, no one will hear you. i have posted a notice in front of this place that it is under the watch of the police, so no tramps will venture in, and your friends will not come back. "now, just make yourself comfortable here, and i'll go to the moon in your place. i think i shall enjoy the trip. as i said, you will be released to-morrow night, several hours after the projectile has left the earth." "how do you know it is to start to-morrow morning?" asked mark. "oh, i have been spying around, and i overheard the professors talking. i know a thing or two, and i'll be on hand, on time, in your place! now, i have to leave you. i've left ten dollars to pay for your suit, which i need to disguise myself with." then the man was gone, and mark was left with his bitter thoughts to keep him company. the whole daring scheme of the man had been revealed. he did look something like mark, and, attired in the lad's clothes, and by keeping his face concealed, he might pass himself off as jack's chum; at least, until after the projectile had started. "and then, as he says, it will be too late to return to earth and get me," thought mark bitterly. "oh, why did i ever try to learn this man's secret? who is he, anyhow? why didn't i wait for jack at the barn, as i promised? it's all my fault. i wonder if i can't get loose?" mark struggled several hours desperately and at last he felt the ropes giving slightly. he redoubled his efforts. strand by strand the cords parted. he put all his efforts into one last attempt, and to his great joy he felt his hands separate. he was partly free! but scarcely half his task was accomplished. he had yet to discover the secret of the hidden room--a room, as he afterward learned, which had been built during slavery days to conceal the poor black men who were escaping from the south. "but now i have my hands to work with!" exulted mark. resting a bit after his strenuous labors, he took a long drink of water and attacked the ropes on his feet. they were comparatively easy to loosen, and soon he stood up unbound. "now for the secret panel!" he exclaimed, for he was convinced that it was by some such means that his captor had entered and left. as has already been explained, mark knew on which side of his prison the opening was likely to be--it would be where the warning knocks had sounded. he began a minute inspection of that wall. but if mark hoped to speedily discover the secret he was doomed to disappointment. he went over every inch of the surface, seemingly, and pressed on every depression or projection that met his eye, as he passed the candle flame along the wall. success did not reward him, and, as hour after hour passed, and the candle burned lower and lower, mark began to despair. "i must escape before the projectile leaves," he murmured. "it will never do to let them take that man with them under the impression that they have me. i must escape! i will!" once more he began the tiresome task of seeking the secret spring. the candle was spluttering in the socket now. it would burn hardly another minute. desperately mark sought. at last, just as the candle gave a dying gasp and flared brightly up prior to going out, the lad saw a small screw head he had not noticed before. it was sunk deep in a board. "i'll press that and see what happens!" he exclaimed. with a suddenness that was startling, he found himself in total darkness. the candle had burned out, but he had his finger on the screw. he pressed it with all his force. there was a rumbling sound in the darkness, a movement as if some heavy body had slid out of the way, and mark felt a breath of air on his cheeks. then he saw a dim light. "oh, i'm out! i'm out!" he cried joyously, breathing a prayer of thankfulness at his deliverance. "i'm free! i pushed on the right spring, and the panel slid back!" he fairly leaped forward. the morning light was streaming in through the broken windows. he saw himself in the old hall of the mansion, at the head of the stairs, in a sort of anteroom, the mantle of which apartment had swung aside to give him egress from the secret chamber through a hole in the wall. he was free! "but am i in time?" he cried. "it is morning--and about ten o'clock, i should judge. i've been working to get free all night. will i be in time?" he gave one last look behind at his prison and sprang down the rickety stairs. he had but one thought--to reach home in time to unmask the villain who was impersonating him--to be in time to make the journey to the moon. "but it's several miles, and i can't walk very fast," murmured mark. "i'm too stiff and weak. how can i do it?" he thought of making his way to the nearest farm house, and asking for the loan of a horse and carriage, but he looked so much like a tramp that no farmer would lend him a horse. "and i need to make speed," he murmured. at that moment he heard a noise down the road. it was a steady "chug-chug," like some distant motor-boat, but there was no water near at hand. "a motorcycle!" exclaimed mark. "some one is coming on a motorcycle. oh, if i could only borrow it!" he ran down into the road. he could see the rider now. to his joy it was dick johnson--the lad who had brought him the mysterious note. "hi dick! dick! hold on!" cried mark. the lad on the motor gave one glance at the ragged figure that had hailed him. then he turned on more power to escape from what he thought was a savage tramp. "wait! stop! i want that motorcycle!" cried mark. "well, you're not going to get it!" yelled back dick. "i'll send the police after you." mark couldn't understand. then a glance down at his ragged garments showed him what was the matter. "wait! hold on, dick!" he cried, running forward. "i'm mark sampson! i've had a terrible time! i was captured by that mysterious man, and he's got my clothes. i must get home quick!" dick heard, but scarcely understood. however, he comprehended that his friend was in trouble, and he wanted to help him. he slowed up, and mark reached him. "lend me your motorcycle, dick," begged mark. "i must get home in a hurry to unmask a scoundrel. i'll leave your machine for you at our house. i won't hurt it. i'm in a hurry! get off!" somewhat dazed, dick dismounted, and mark climbed into the saddle. he began to pedal, and then threw in the gasolene and spark. the cycle chugged off. "i'll leave it for you at our house," mark called back. "i'm going on a trip to the moon, and i don't want to be late." he was fast disappearing in a cloud of dust, while dick, gazing after him, remarked: "well, i always thought those fellows were crazy to go off in projectiles and things like that, and now i'm sure of it. going to the moon! well, i only hope he doesn't take my motorcycle there!" mark sped on, turning the handle levers to get the last notch of speed out of the cycle. would he be in time? chapter xiii a direful threat perhaps washington white's shanghai rooster did not care to make the trip to the moon, or perhaps the fowl had not yet seen enough of this earth. at any rate, when he flew from the projectile, uttering loud crows, and landed some distance away, he began to run back toward the coop in the rear of the yard. "cotch him, cotch him!" yelled the colored man. "dat's a valuable bird!" "we'll get him when he goes in the coop," said jack, who found it difficult to run and laugh at the same time. "shall i fire my rifle off and scare him?" asked andy sudds. "no, you might kill him or scare him t' death," objected washington. "come on, mark, and help," cried jack, looking toward the projectile, where a figure was peering from the glass-covered port of the main cabin. but the figure, whose hand was done up in voluminous bandages, did not come out, and jack wondered the more at what he thought was a growing strangeness on the part of his chum. jack, followed by andy and washington, raced off after the rooster, while the two professors, somewhat amused, rather chaffed at the delay. but afterward they were glad of it. "just my luck!" muttered the bandaged one. "this delay comes at the wrong time. why don't they go on without that confounded rooster? if we stay here too long, that fellow mark may get loose and spoil the whole thing, or jenkins may go and release him before the time set. it would be just like jenkins! i've a good notion to start the projectile myself. i know how to operate the cardite motor. only i suppose those two professors are on guard in the engine room. i'll have to wait until they catch that rooster, i guess, but i'd like to wring his neck!" the chase after the fowl was kept up. "i've got him now!" cried jack a little later, as the fowl, evidently now much exhausted, ran into another fence corner, where jack caught him, and shut him up in the coop in the projectile. "yo' suttinly am de mos' contrary-minded specimen ob de chicken fambly dat i eber seed," observed washington, breathing heavily, for his run had winded him. "well, are we all ready to start now?" asked professor henderson. "no more live stock loose, is there, jack?" "i think not." "where's mark? wasn't he helping you catch the rooster?" "no, he's inside. shall i seal the door?" "yes, and i'll tell professor roumann that we're about to start. all ready for the moon trip!" jack was pulling the steel portal toward him. an eager face, peering from a port, waited anxiously for the tremor which would indicate that the projectile had left the earth. in another moment they would be off. but what was that sound coming from down the highway. a steady chug-chug--a sort of roar, as of a battery of rapid-fire guns going off in double relays! and, mingled with the explosions, there was a voice shouting: "wait! hold on! don't go without me! i'm mark sampson! don't start the projectile!" "somebody must be in a mighty hurry on a motorcycle," thought jack, as he paused a moment before fastening the door. then the shouts came to his ears. "mark sampson!" he cried. again came the cry: "wait! wait! don't go without me! you've got that mysterious man on board!" "mark sampson!" murmured jack again. "that's his voice sure enough! i wonder--can it be possible--that man--with his head all bandaged up--his queer actions--i--i----" words failed the youth. throwing wide open the door, he sprang out of the projectile. a moment later there dashed into the yard, where the great projectile rested, a strange figure astride of a puffing motorcycle. the figure was torn and, ragged, and the nondescript garments were covered with dust, for mark had had a fall. but there was no mistaking the face that peered eagerly forward. "jack!" cried the youth on the machine. "mark!" ejaculated the lad who had sprung from the projectile. "what has happened? who is the fellow who has been masquerading as you?" "a scoundrel and a villain! let me get at him!" and, slamming on the brakes, as he shut off the power, mark leaped from the motorcycle, stood it up against the projectile, and clasped his chum by the hand. "what's the matter?" asked professor henderson, as he, too, ran out of the _annihilator_. "what does that tramp want, jack? give him some money, and get back in here; we ought to have started long ago." he looked at the ragged figure. "this isn't a tramp," cried jack. "it's mark!" "mark! i thought----" "there have been strange doings," gasped the lad in tramp's garments. "i have just escaped from being kept a prisoner. where is the mysterious man? oh, i'm glad i arrived in time! were you about to start?" "that's what we were," replied jack. "oh, mark, but i'm glad to see you again! i didn't know what to think. you acted so strange--or, rather, the fellow we thought was you had me guessing!" "good land a' massy!" exclaimed washington white, as he stood in the doorway, with andy sudds behind him. "am dere two marks? what's up, anyhow?" "don't let that fellow get away--the fellow who passed himself off as me!" shouted mark. "lock him up! there's some mystery about him that must be explained. he's a dangerous man to be at large." professor henderson turned back to enter the projectile. jack advised andy to get his gun ready, with which to threaten the scoundrel in case of necessity. at that instant there sounded a crash of glass, and the whole front of the big observation window in the side of the _annihilator_ was smashed to atoms. a figure leaped--a figure which no longer had its head bandaged, and whose arm was no longer in a sling--the figure of a man--the mysterious man who had held mark a prisoner! "there he goes!" shouted jack. "catch him, somebody! andy, where's your gun?" "i'll have it in a jiffy!" cried the hunter, as he dashed back to get it. but the man did not linger. scrambling to his feet after his fall, caused by his leap from the broken window, which he had smashed with a sledge hammer as soon as he understood that his game was up, he raced out of the yard. he turned long enough to shake his fist at the group assembled around the projectile, and then leaped away, calling out some words which they could not hear. "let's take after him," proposed mark. "come on," seconded jack. "no, let him go; he's a desperate man, and you came just in time to unmask him," said professor henderson. "he might harm you if you took after him. let him go. he has not done much damage. we can easily replace the broken window. but i can't understand what his object was in disguising himself as mark. he certainly looked like you, mark, especially when he kept his face concealed. why did he do it?" "he wanted to go to the moon in my place," answered the former prisoner of the deserted house. "but why?" insisted jack. "because, i think, he's crazy, and he didn't really know what he did want. but he certainly had me well concealed," spoke mark. "i'm free now, however, and as soon as i get some decent clothes on i'll go with you to the moon. i wouldn't want the moon people to see me dressed this way." "how did it happen?" asked jack. "tell us all about it. my! but i certainly have been puzzled since you--or rather since the person we thought was you--came back last night all bunged up. give us the story." "i will; give me a chance. i guess that villain is gone for good." andy sudds came out with his gun, and insisted on taking a look down the road and around the premises. the man was nowhere in sight. "now we're in for another delay," remarked jack ruefully, as he gazed at the smashed window. "it seems as if we'd never get started for the moon." "oh, yes, we will," declared professor henderson. "we have some extra heavy plate glass in the shop, and we can soon put in another observation window." "let's get right to work then," proposed jack. "that man may come back. did you learn who he was, mark?" "no, he wouldn't tell his name, and he said he was doing this to get revenge on us for some fancied wrong. i can't imagine who he is. but let's work and talk at the same time. i'll tell you all that happened to me," which he did briefly. mark soon got rid of the tramp clothes, and donned an extra suit which had been packed in his trunk in the projectile. then he helped replace the broken window, which, in spite of their haste, took nearly all the rest of the day to put in place. "shall we wait and start to-morrow?" asked jack, when four o'clock came. "it will soon be dark." "darkness will make no difference to us," announced professor roumann. "our cardite motor will soon take us out of the shadow of the earth, and we will be in perpetual sunshine until we reach the moon. as we are all ready, we might as well start now." they all agreed with this, and, after a final inspection of the projectile, the travellers entered it, and jack was once more about to seal the big door. before he could do so there came riding into the yard, on his motorcycle, which he had claimed that afternoon, dick johnson. "wait a minute," he cried. "i've got a letter for you. it's from that man!" "what--another thing to delay us?" cried jack, but he called to professor roumann not to start the motor, and ran to take from dick the letter which the lad held out. "that same man who gave me the one for mark gave me this, and he paid me a half a dollar to bring it here," said the boy. "all right," answered jack impatiently. he looked at the note. it was addressed to the "moon travellers," and, considering that he was one, the youth tore open the envelope. in the dim light of the fading day he read the bold handwriting. "i have fixed you," the letter began. "you will never get to the moon. i shall have my revenge. you took my brother fred axtell to mars and left him there. i determined to get him back, and to that end i disguised myself as one of the boys, and got aboard. when we were safely away from the earth, i would have compelled you to go to mars and rescue my brother. but my plan has failed. i will have my revenge, though. you will never reach the moon, even if you do get started. beware! george, the brother of fred axtell, will avenge his fate!" "the brother of the crazy machinist!" gasped jack. "now i understand his strange actions. he's crazy, too--he wanted to go to mars--he says we will never reach the moon! say, look here!" cried jack, raising his voice. "here's bad news! that scoundrel has put some game up on us! maybe he's tampered with the machinery! it won't be safe to start for the moon until we've looked over everything carefully! he says he's fixed us, and perhaps he has!" from the projectile came hurrying the would-be moon travellers, a vague fear in their hearts. chapter xiv off at last in the gathering twilight professor henderson read slowly the note dick had brought. then he passed it to professor roumann. the latter shook his shaggy gray hair, and murmured something in german. "where did you meet the man?" asked jack of the young motorcyclist. "about two miles down the road. he was walking along, sort of talking to himself, and i was afraid of him. he called to me, and offered me a half a dollar to deliver this message. i didn't want to at first, but he said if i didn't he'd hurt me, so i took it. is it anything bad?" "we don't know yet," replied mark. "no, that is the worst of it," added professor roumann. "he has made a threat, but we can't tell whether or not he will accomplish it. we are in the dark. he may have done some secret damage to our machinery, and it will take a careful inspection to show it." "and will the inspection have to be made now?" asked jack. "i think so," answered professor henderson gravely. "it would not be safe to start for the moon and have a breakdown before we got there. we must wait until morning to begin our trip." "it will be the safest," spoke the german, and the boys, in spite of the fact that they were anxious to get under way, were forced to the same conclusion. "then if we're going to camp here for the night," proposed old andy, "what's the matter with me and the boys having a hunt for that man? we've put up with enough from him, and it's time he was punished. if we let him go on, he'll annoy us all the while, if not now, then after we get back from the moon. i'm for giving him a chase and having him arrested." "he certainly deserves some punishment, if only for the way he treated mark," was jack's opinion, his chum having related how he was drugged and kept a prisoner in the secret room, and how he escaped in time to unmask the villain. "well," said professor henderson, after some thought, "it might not be a bad plan to see if you could get that scoundrel put in some safe place, where he could make no more trouble for us. i guess the lunatic asylum is where he belongs, though i can sympathize with him on account of his brother. but it was not our fault that the crazy machinist went with us to mars. he was a stowaway, and went against our wishes, and when he got there he tried to injure us." "then may mark, andy and i see if we can find this man?" asked jack. "yes, but be careful not to get separated; and don't run any risks," cautioned the professor. "mr. roumann and i, with the help of washington, will go carefully over all the machinery, and every part of the projectile, to see if any hidden damage has been done. but don't stay out too late. you had better notify the police. they may be able to give you some aid, and i don't mind letting them know about it now, as we will soon be away from here, because, no matter if they do send detectives or constables spying about now, they can learn none of our secrets." waiting only to partake of a hasty meal, the two boys and the veteran hunter set out, andy with his gun over his shoulder and his sharp eyes on the lookout for any sign of axtell, though they hardly expected to find him in the vicinity of the projectile. taking the road, on which dick johnson said he had encountered the man, the two lads and andy proceeded, making inquiries from time to time of persons they met. but no one had seen axtell, and the insane man, for such he seemed to be, appeared to have dropped out of sight. on into the village the searchers went, and there they reported matters to the chief of police, telling him only so much as was necessary to give him an understanding of the situation. "i'll send a couple of my best constables right out on the case," said the chief. "we've just appointed two new ones, and i guess they'll be glad to arrest somebody." "let them look out that this fellow doesn't drug them and carry them away," cautioned mark. "oh, i guess my constables can look out for theirselves," spoke the chief proudly. once more the trailers sallied forth to renew their search. they thought perhaps they might find their man lingering in the town, but a search through the principal streets did not disclose him, and mark proposed that they return to their home for the night, as he was tired and weary from his experience in the deserted house. as they were turning out of the town, their attention was attracted by a disturbance on the street just ahead of them. a woman screamed, and men's voices were heard. then came cries of: "police! police!" "some one's in trouble!" exclaimed jack. "let's go see what it is." they broke into a run, and, as they approached, they saw a crowd quickly collect. it seemed to center about a man who was being held by two others, though he struggled to get away. "here, what's the trouble?" the boys heard a constable ask as he shouldered his way into the throng. "this fellow tried to snatch this lady's purse and run away with it," explained one of the men who had grabbed the scoundrel. "stand still, you brute!" he shouted at him, "or i'll shake you to pieces! such fellows as you ought to go to the whipping-post!" "i'll take charge of him," announced the officer. "who is he? does any one know?" "stranger in town, i guess," volunteered the other man, who had helped capture him. "need any help, officer?" "no, i guess i can manage him. come along now, and behave yourself, or i'll use my club. it hasn't been tried on any one yet." "that's one of the new constables, i guess," said mark, and jack nodded. the crowd separated to allow the officer to take out his prisoner. as the latter walked forward in the grip of the constable, he remarked in a mild voice totally at variance with his bold act: "why, i only wanted a little change to pay my fare to the moon. i'm going there to look for my brother." "crazy as a loon," said one of the men. "or pretending that he is," added the officer. "mark!" cried jack, pointing at the prisoner, "look!" "the man who held me captive!" gasped mark. "and he's wearing my clothes yet! but he's in custody now, and we needn't fear any more from him." "unless he gets away," said jack. "we'll go tell the chief who he is, and he'll keep him safe," suggested mark, and they hurried to headquarters, reaching there just before the prisoner was brought in. the boys were assured by the chief that the man, who was evidently a dangerous lunatic, would be kept where he could do no harm. he would be arraigned later on the serious charge of attempted highway robbery, as well as of being a dangerous lunatic at large. when the boys and andy got back, they found the two professors and washington still going over the machinery in detail. "find anything wrong?" asked jack, after they had told of the arrest of axtell. "no, but we will have another look in the morning," said mr. henderson. "then, if we find nothing out of order, i think we will take a chance and start." a thorough inspection by all hands the next day did not disclose anything wrong, and, a test of the motors and other machinery having shown that it was in good working shape, it was decided to leave the earth. "at last, i think, we are really going to get under way to the moon," said jack, as he closed the big main door. this time it was not reopened. all the stores and supplies were in place. the two professors were in the engine room. washington white was in his galley, getting ready to serve the first meal in the air. jack and mark were in the pilot house, ready to do whatever was necessary and anxious to feel the thrill that would tell them the projectile had left the earth. "all ready?" asked professor henderson. "all ready," replied his german assistant. "then here we go!" announced the aged scientist. he pulled toward him the main starting lever of the cardite motor, while professor roumann opened the valve which admitted to the plates and cylinders the mysterious force that was to send them on their way. "elevate the bow!" called professor henderson. "elevated it is," answered the german, as he turned a wheel which directed the negative gravity force against the surface of the ground and tilted up the nose of the _annihilator_, as a skyrocket is slanted in a trough before the fuse is ignited. "throw over the switch," directed mr. henderson, and the other scientist, with a quick motion, snapped it into place, amid a shower of vicious electric sparks that hissed as when hot iron is thrust into water. "steer straight ahead!" called professor henderson to mark and jack, who were in the pilot house. "we'll head for the moon later." "straight ahead it is," answered jack. there was a trembling to the great projectile. up rose her sharp-pointed bow. she swayed slightly in the air. the trembling increased. the great cardite motor hummed and throbbed. there was a crackling as from a wireless apparatus. then, with a rush and a roar, the big steel car, resembling an enormous cigar, soared away from the earth, like some gigantic piece of fireworks, and shot toward the sky. "we're off!" shouted mark. "for the moon!" added jack. and the _annihilator_ soared upward and onward, while those in her never dreamed of the fearful adventures that were to befall them ere they would again be headed toward the earth. chapter xv the shanghai makes trouble remaining in the engine room long enough to see that all the motors and apparatus were working smoothly, professor henderson made his way to the pilot house forward, where mark and jack were in charge of the steering gears. the projectile could be started and stopped from there, as well as from the engine room, once the motor was set going. "well, boys, how does it feel to be in space once more?" asked the scientist. "fine," answered mark. "but while i was shut up in that old house i feared i'd never have this chance again." "it seems like old times again, to be flying through space," remarked jack. "my! but we aren't making half the speed of which the projectile is capable. why, we're only going about twenty miles a second," and he spoke as if that was a mere nothing. "twenty miles is some speed," observed mark. "the earth goes around the sun at the rate of nineteen miles a second, or about seventy-five times as fast as the swiftest cannon-ball, so you see, jack, you are 'going some,' as the boys say." "yes, but we went much faster when we went to mars. still, no matter how fast we travel, you'd never realize it inside here." this was true. so well balanced was the projectile, and so delicately poised was the machinery, that the terrifically fast rate of travel, rivalling that of the earth, was no more noticed than we, on this globe, notice our pace of nineteen miles a second around the sun. "everything seems to be all right," observed professor henderson, as he looked out of the plate-glass window of the pilot house into a sea of rolling mist, which represented the ether, for they had soon passed through the atmosphere of the earth, which scientists estimate to be two hundred miles in thickness. "are we going to move any faster than this?" asked jack, who seemed possessed of a speed mania. "not right away," replied mr. henderson. "professor roumann wants to thoroughly test the cardite motor first. then, when he finds that it works all right, we may go faster. but we will be at the moon soon enough as it is. it is time we headed more directly on our proper way, though, so i think i will ask mr. roumann to step here and aid me in getting the projectile on the right course. you boys had better remain also and learn how it is done. you may need to know some time." "i'll call the professor here, if he can leave the engine room," said mark, and he found the german bending over some complicated apparatus. the scientist announced that the machines would run themselves automatically for a while, so he accompanied the lad back to the pilot-house. there, consulting big charts of the heavens, and by making some intricate calculations, which the boys partly understood, the german and mr. henderson were able to locate the exact position of the moon, though that body was not then in sight, being behind the earth. "that ought to bring us there inside of a week," announced mr. henderson, as he fastened the automatic steering apparatus in place. "the projectile will now be held on a straight course, and i hope we shall not have to change it." "could anything cause us to swerve to one side?" asked jack. "sure," replied mark. "don't you remember how, in the trip to mars, we nearly collided with the comet? if we are in danger of hitting another one of those things, or even a meteor, we'll steer out of the way, won't we?" "of course. i forgot about that," admitted jack. "yes," declared professor roumann, "we'll have to be on the lookout for wandering meteors or other stray heavenly bodies. but our instruments will give us timely warning of them. now, i think we can leave the projectile to herself while i make sure that all the machinery is running smoothly. you boys may stay here if you like, though there isn't much to see." there wasn't. it was totally unlike taking a trip on earth, where the ever-varying scenery makes a journey pleasant. there was no landscape to greet the eye now. it was even unlike a trip in a balloon, for in that sort of air-craft, at least for a time, a glimpse of the earth can be had. now there was nothing but a white blanket of mist to be seen, which rolled this way and that. occasionally it was dispelled, and the full, golden sunlight bathed the projectile. the earth had long since dropped out of sight, for it required only a few seconds to put the _annihilator_ high up in a position where even the most intrepid balloonist had never ventured. mark and jack sat for a few minutes in the pilot-house, looking out into the ether. but they soon tired of seeing absolutely nothing. "i wonder what we'll do when we get to the moon?" asked jack of his chum. "why, i suppose you'll make a dive for a hatful of diamonds, won't you? that is, if you still believe that martian newspaper account." "i sure do." the boys found the two professors busy adjusting some of the delicate scientific instruments with which they expected to make observations on the trip, and after they reached the moon. "what is your opinion, professor roumann, of the temperature at the moon's surface?" asked mr. henderson. "i am in two minds about it," was the reply. "a few years ago, i see by an astronomy, lord rosse inferred from his observations that the temperature rose at its maximum (or about three days after full moon) far above that of boiling water." "boiling water!" ejaculated mark. "wow! that won't be very nice. i don't want to be boiled like a lobster!" "wait a moment," cautioned mr. roumann, with a smile. "later, lord rosse's own investigations, and those of langley, threw some doubts on this. there is said to be no air blanket about the moon, as there is about the earth, so that the moon loses heat as fast as it receives it; and it now seems more probable that the temperature never rises above the freezing point of water, just as is the case on our highest mountains." "that's better," came from jack. "we can stand a low temperature more easily than we can to be boiled; eh, jack?" "sure. but i don't want to be frozen or boiled either, if i can help it. guess i'll wear my fur suit that we brought back from the north pole with us." "i agree with you, professor roumann, about the temperature," announced mr. henderson, "so we must make up our minds to shiver, rather than melt. but we are prepared for that." "what about there being no air on the moon?" asked jack. "oh, we can manufacture our own oxygen," said mark. "we can walk around with an air tank on our shoulders, as we did when we went beneath the surface of the ocean. now, i guess----" "dinner am served in de dining car!" interrupted washington white, his black face grinning cheerfully. he used to be a waiter in a pullman, and he was proud of it. "first call fo' dinner!" he went on. "part ob it am boiled, part am roasted, laik i done heah yo' talkin' 'bout jest now, an' part am frozed--dat's de ice cream," he added hastily, lest there be a mistake about it. "well, that sounds good," observed mark. "come on, everybody," and he led the way to the dining cabin. they had not been at the table more than a few minutes, and had begun on the "boiled" part of the meal, which was the soup, when from the engine room there came a curious, whining noise, as when an electric motor slows up. "what's that?" cried professor henderson, jumping up from his seat in alarm. "something wrong in the engine room," cried mr. roumann. the two scientists, followed by the boys, hurried to where the various pieces of apparatus were sending the projectile forward through space. already there was an appreciable slackening of speed. "the cardite motor has stopped!" cried mr. roumann. "something has happened to it!" "can it be the result of the damage which that lunatic did?" asked mr. henderson. "perhaps," spoke jack. "if i had him here----" "we are falling!" shouted mark, looking at an indicator which marked their speed and motion. "can't we start some other motor?" asked jack. at that instant from beneath the now silent cardite machine there came a prolonged crow. "my shanghai rooster!" shouted washington. "he am in dar!" a second later the rooster scrambled out, scratching vigorously. grains of corn were scattered about. the motor started up again, and the projectile resumed its onward way. "the rooster stopped it!" cried jack. "he went under it to get some corn, and he must have deranged one of the levers. oh, you old shanghai, you nearly gave us all heart disease!" and the rooster crowed louder than before, while his colored owner "shooed" him out of the engine room. the trouble was over speedily, and the _annihilator_ was once more speeding toward the moon. chapter xvi "will it hit us?" "well, for a trouble-maker, give me a rooster every time," spoke jack, as, after an examination of the machinery, it was found that nothing was out of order. "how do you think it happened, professor henderson?" "it never could have happened except in just that way," was the reply of mr. roumann. "underneath the motor, where they are supposed to be out of all reach, are several self-adjusting levers. they control the speed, and also, by being moved in a certain direction, they will shut down the apparatus. the rooster crawled beneath the machine, an act that i never figured on, for i knew it was too small for any of us to reach with our hands or arms, even had we so desired. but the shanghai's feathers must have brushed against the levers, and that stopped the action of the cardite motor. however, i'm glad it was no worse." "yes, let's finish dinner now, if everything is all right," proposed mark. "how did the rooster get in here?" asked jack. "i 'spects dat's my fault," answered washington. "i took him out ob his coop fo' a little exercise dis mawnin', an' he run in heah." "that explains it, i think," said mr. roumann. "well, washington, don't let it happen again. we don't want to be dashed downward through space all on account of a rooster." "no, indeedy; i'll lock him up good an' tight arter dis," promised the colored man. they resumed the interrupted dinner, discussing the possibility of what might have happened, and congratulating themselves that it did not take place. "it certainly seems like old times to be eating while travelling along like a cannon-ball," remarked jack. "i declare, it gives me an appetite!" "you didn't need any," retorted his chum. "but say! maybe things don't taste good to me, after what i got while that fellow axtell had me a prisoner! jack, i'll have a little more of that cocoanut pie, if you don't mind." jack passed over the pastry, and mark took a liberal piece. then washington brought in the ice cream, which was frozen on board by means of an ammonia gas apparatus, the invention of professor henderson. the novelty of dining as comfortably as at home, yet being thousands of miles above the earth, and, at the same time, speeding along like a cannon-ball, did not impress our friends as much as it had during their trip to mars. "well, we're making a little better time now," observed mark, as he and the others rose from the table and went to the engine room. "the gauge shows that we're making twenty-five miles a second." "we will soon go much faster," announced professor roumann. "i have not yet had a chance to test my cardite motor to its fullest speed, and i think i will do so. i wish to see if it will equal my etherium machine. i'll turn on the power gradually now, and we'll see what happens." "how fast do you think it ought to send us along?" asked jack. "oh, perhaps one hundred and twenty-five miles a second. you know we went a hundred miles a second when we headed for mars. i would not be surprised if we made even one hundred and thirty miles a second with the cardite." "whew! if we ever hit anything going like that!" exclaimed old andy sudds. "we'd go right through it," finished jack fervently. the professor was soon ready for the test. slowly he shoved over the controlling lever. the cardite motor hummed more loudly, like some great cat purring. louder snapped the electrical waves. the air vibrated with the enormous speed of the valve wheels, and there was a prickling sensation as the power flowed into the positive and negative plates, by which the projectile was moved through space. "watch the hand of the speed indicator, boys," directed professor roumann, "while professor henderson and i manipulate the motor. call out the figures to us, for we must keep our eyes on the valves." slowly the speed indicator hand, which was like that of an automobile speedometer, swept over the dial. "fifty miles a second," read off mark. the two professors shoved the levers over still more. "seventy-five," called jack. "give it a little more of the positive current," directed mr. roumann. "ninety miles a second," read mark a few moments later. "we are creeping up, but we have not yet equalled our former speed," spoke mr. henderson. the motor was fairly whining now, as if in protest. "one hundred and five miles," announced jack. "ha! that's some better!" ejaculated the german. "i think we shall do it." once more he advanced the speed lever a notch. "one hundred and thirty!" fairly shouted mark. "we are beating all records!" "and we will go still farther beyond them!" cried mr. roumann. "watch the gauge, boys!" to the last notch went the speed handle. there was a sharp crackling, snapping sound, as if the metal of which the motor was composed was strained to the utmost. yet it held together. the hand of the dial quivered. it hung on the one hundred and thirty mark for a second, as if not wanting to leave it, and then the steel pointer swept slowly on in a circle, past point after point. "one hundred and thirty-five--one hundred and forty," whispered jack, as if afraid to speak aloud. the two professors did not look up from the motor. they looked at the oil and lubricating cups. already the main shaft was smoking with the heat of friction. "look! look!" whispered mark hoarsely. "one hundred and fifty-three miles a second!" exclaimed jack. "you've done it, professor roumann!" "yes, i have," spoke the german, with a sigh of satisfaction. "that is faster than mortal man ever travelled before, and i think no one will ever equal our speed. we have broken all records--even our own. now i will slow down, but we must do it gradually, so as not to strain the machinery." he slipped back the speed lever, notch by notch. the hand of the dial began receding, but it still marked one hundred and twenty miles a second. suddenly, above the roar and hum of the motor, there sounded the voice of andy. "professor!" he shouted. "we're heading right toward a big, black stone! is that the moon?" "the moon? no, we are not half way there," said mr. henderson. "are you sure, andy?" "sure? yes! i saw it from the window in the pilot-house. we are shooting right toward it." "look to the motor, and i'll see what it is," directed mr. henderson to his friend. followed by the boys, he hurried to the steering tower. his worst fears were confirmed. speeding along with a swiftness unrivalled even by some stars, the projectile was lurching toward a great, black heavenly body. "it's a meteor! an immense meteor!" cried professor henderson, "and it's coming right toward us." "will it hit us?" gasped mark and jack together. "i don't know. we must try to avoid it. boys, notify professor roumann at once. we are in grave danger!" chapter xvii turning turtle together mark and jack leaped for the engine room. their faces showed the fear they felt. even before they reached it, they realized that, at the awful speed at which they were travelling, and the fearful velocity of the meteor, there might be a crash in mid-air which would destroy the projectile and end their lives. "i wonder if we can steer clear of it?" gasped jack. "if it's possible the professor will do it," responded his chum. the next instant they were in the engine room, where mr. roumann was bending over the cardite motor. "shut off the power!" yelled jack. "we are going to hit a meteor!" gasped mark. the german looked up with a startled glance. "slow down?" he repeated. "it is impossible to slow down at once! we are going ninety miles a second!" he pointed to the speed gauge. "then there's going to be a fearful collision!" cried jack, and he blurted out the fact of the nearness of the heavenly wanderer. "so!" exclaimed professor roumann. "dot is bat! ferry bat!" and he lapsed into the broken language that seldom marked his almost perfect english. then, murmuring something in his own tongue, he leaped away from the motor, calling to the boys: "slow it down gradually! keep pulling the speed lever toward you! i will set in motion the repelling apparatus and go to help professor henderson steer out of the way. it is our only chance!" mark and jack took their places beside the cardite motor, which was still keeping up a fearful speed, though not so fast as at first. to stop it suddenly would mean that the cessation of strain could not all be diffused at once, and serious damage might result. the only way was to come gradually down to the former speed, and, while mark kept his eyes on the indicator, jack pulled the lever toward him, notch by notch. "she's down to seventy-five miles a second," whispered mark. they were as anxious now to reduce speed as they had been before to increase it. meanwhile professor roumann had set in motion a curious bit of apparatus, designed to repel stray meteors or detached bits of comets. as is well known, bodies floating in space, away from the attraction of gravitation, attract or repel each other as does a magnet or an electrically charged object. acting on this law of nature, professor roumann had, with the aid of mr. henderson, constructed a machine which, when a negative current of electricity was sent into it, would force away any object that was approaching the _annihilator_. in a few moments the boys at the cardite motor heard the hum, the throb and crackling that told them that the repelling apparatus was at work. but would it act in time? or would the meteor prove too powerful for it? and, if it did, would the two scientists be able to steer the swiftly moving projectile out of the way of the big, black stone, as the old hunter called it? these were questions that showed on the faces of the two lads as they bent over the motor. "we're only going fifty miles a second now," whispered jack. mark nodded his head. "can't you pull the lever over faster?" he asked. "i don't dare," replied his chum. there was nothing to do but to wait and gradually slow up the projectile as much as possible. the boys could hear the professors in the pilothouse shifting gears, valves and levers to change the course of the projectile. andy sudds and washington white, with fear on their faces, looked into the engine room, waiting anxiously for the outcome. "hab--hab we hit it yet?" asked washington, moving his hands nervously. "i reckon not, or we'd know it," said the hunter. "no, not yet," answered jack, in a low voice. "how much are we making now, mark?" "only thirty a second." "good! she's coming down." hardly had he spoken than there sounded a noise like thunder, or the rushing of some mighty wind. the projectile, which was trembling throughout her length from the force of the motor, shivered as though she had plunged into the unknown depths of some mighty sea. the roaring increased. mark and jack looked at each other. washington white fell upon his knees and began praying in a loud voice. old andy grasped his gun, as though to say that, even though on the brink of eternity, he was ready. then, with a scream as of some gigantic shell from a thousand-inch rifle, something passed over the _annihilator_; something that shook the great projectile like a leaf in the wind. and then the scream died away, and there was silence. for a moment no one spoke, and then jack whispered hoarsely: "we've passed it." "yes," added mark, "we're safe now." "by golly! i knowed we would!" fairly yelled washington, leaping to his feet. "i knowed dat no old meteor could kerflumox us! perfesser henderson he done jumped our boat ober it laik a hunter jumps his boss ober a fence. golly! i'se feelin' better now!" "how did you avoid it?" asked mark of the professor. "with the help of the repelling machine and by changing our course. but we did it only just in time. it was an immense meteor, much larger than at first appeared, and it was blazing hot. had it struck us, there would have been nothing left of us or the projectile either but star dust. but we managed to pass beneath it, and now we are safe." they congratulated each other on their lucky escape, and then busied themselves about various duties aboard the air-craft. the rest of the day was spent in making minor adjustments to some of the machines, oiling others, and in planning what they would do when they reached the moon. in this way three days and nights passed, mainly without incident. they slept well on board the _annihilator_, which was speeding so swiftly through space--slept as comfortably as they had on earth. each hour brought them nearer the moon, and they figured on landing on the surface of that wonderful and weird body in about three days more. it was on the morning of the fourth day when, as mark and jack were taking their shift in the engine room, that jack happened to glance from the side observation window, which was near the cardite motor. what he saw caused him to cry out in surprise. "i say, mark, look here! there's the moon over there. we're not heading for it at all!" "by jove! you're right!" agreed his chum. "we're off our course!" "we must tell professor henderson!" cried jack. "i'll do it. you stay here and watch things." a few seconds later a very much alarmed youth was rapidly talking to the two scientists, who were in the pilot-house. "some unknown force must have pulled us off our course," jack was saying. "the moon is away off to one side of us." to his surprise, instead of being alarmed, mr. roumann only smiled. "it's true," insisted jack. "of course, it is," agreed mr. henderson. "we can see it from here, jack," and he pointed to the observation window, from which could be noticed the moon floating in the sky at the same time the sun was shining, a phenomenon which is often visible on the earth early in the morning at certain of the moon's phases. "will we ever get there?" asked jack. "of course," replied mr. roumann. "you must remember, jack, that the moon is moving at the same time we are. had i headed the projectile for luna, and kept it on that course, she would, by the time we reached her, been in another part of the firmament, and we would have overshot our mark. so, instead, i aimed the _annihilator_ at a spot in the heavens where i calculated the moon would be when we arrived there. and, if i am not mistaken, we will reach there at the same time, and drop gently down on luna." "oh, is that it?" asked the lad, much relieved. "that's it," replied mr. henderson. "and that's why we seem to be headed away from the moon. her motion will bring her into the right position for us to land on when the time comes." "then i'd better go tell mark," said the lad. "he's quite worried." he soon explained matters to his chum, and together they discussed the many things necessary to keep in mind when one navigates the heavens. that day saw several thousand more miles reeled off on the journey to the moon, and that evening (or rather what corresponded to evening, for it was perpetual daylight) they began to make their preparations for landing. their wonderful journey through space was nearing an end. "i guess that crazy axtell fellow was only joking when he said we'd never reach the moon," ventured jack. "nothing has happened yet." "only the meteor," said mark, "and he couldn't know about that. i guess he didn't get a chance to damage any of the machinery." "no, we seem to be making good time," went on his chum. "i think i'll go and----" jack did not finish his sentence. instead he stared at one of the instruments hanging from the walls of the engine room. it was a sort of barometer to tell their distance from the earth, and it swung to and fro like a pendulum. now the instrument was swinging out away from the wall to which it was attached. further and further over it inclined. jack felt a curious sensation. mark put his hand to his head. "i feel--feel dizzy!" he exclaimed. "what is the matter?" "something has happened," cried jack. the instrument swung over still more. some tools fell from a work bench, and landed on the steel floor with a crash. the boys were staggering about the engine room, unable to maintain their balance. there came cries of fear from the galley, where washington white was rattling away amid his pots and pans. andy sudds was calling to some one, and from the pilot-house came the excited exclamations of professors henderson and roumann. "we're turning turtle!" suddenly yelled jack. "the projectile is turning over in the air! something has gone wrong! perhaps this is the revenge of that crazy man!" and, as he spoke, he fell over backward, mark following him, while the _annihilator_ was turned completely over and seemed to be falling down into unfathomable depths. chapter xviii at the moon confusion reigned aboard the _annihilator_. it had turned completely over, and was now moving through space apparently bottom side up. of course, being cigar shaped, this did not make any difference as far as the exterior was concerned, but it did make a great difference to those within. the occupants of the great shell had fallen and slid down the rounded sides of the projectile, and were now standing on what had been the ceiling. objects that were not fast had also followed them, scattering all about, some narrowly missing hitting our friends. of course, the machinery was now in the air, over the heads of the travellers. this was one of the most serious phases of the accident, for the great cardite motor was built to run while in the other position, and when it was turned upside down it immediately stopped, and the projectile, deprived of its motive power, at once began falling through space. "what has happened? what caused it?" cried mark, as he crawled over to where jack sat on the ceiling, with a dazed look on his face. "i don't know. something went wrong. here comes professor henderson and mr. roumann. we'll ask them." the two scientists were observed approaching from the pilot-house. they walked along what had been the ceiling, and when they came to the engine room they had to climb over the top part of the door frame. "what's wrong?" asked jack. "our center of gravity has become displaced," answered mr. henderson. "the gravity machine has either broken, or some one has been tampering with it. did either of you boys touch it?" "no, indeed!" cried mark, and his chum echoed his words. "i wonder if washington could have meddled with it?" went on the scientist. at that moment the colored cook came along, making his way cautiously into the engine room. he was an odd sight. bits of carrots, turnips and potatoes were in his hair, while from one ear dangled a bunch of macaroni, and his clothes were dripping wet. "my kitchen done turned upside down on me!" wailed washington, "an' a whole kettle ob soup emptied on my head! oh, golly! what happened?" the aged scientist looked toward the german. the latter was gazing up at the motionless cardite motor over his head. "there is but one way," he answered. "we must restore our centre of gravity to where it was before. then the projectile will right herself." "can it be done?" asked mark. "it will be quite an undertaking, but we must attempt it. bring some tables and chairs, so i can stand up and reach the equilibrium machine." from where they had fallen to the ceiling, which was now the floor, jack and mark brought tables and chairs, and made a sort of stepladder. on this professor roumann mounted, and at once began the readjusting of the centre of gravity. it was hard work, for he had to labor with his arms stretched up in the air, and any one who has even put up pictures knows what that means. the muscles are unaccustomed to the strain. the german scientist, though a strong man, had to rest at frequent intervals. "we're falling rapidly," announced jack, in a low voice, as he looked at the height gauge. "i am doing all i can," answered mr. roumann. "i think i will soon be able to right the craft." he labored desperately, but he was at a disadvantage, for the _annihilator_ was not now moving smoothly through space. with the stopping of the motor she was falling like some wobbly balloon, swaying hither and thither in the ether currents. but professor roumann was not one to give up easily. he kept at his task, aided occasionally by professor henderson and by the boys whenever they could do anything. finally the german cried out: "ah, i have discovered the trouble. it is that scoundrel axtell! see!" and reaching into the interior of the machine he pulled out a small magnet. to it was attached a card, on which was written: "i told you i would have my revenge!" it was signed with axtell's name. "this was the dastardly plot he evolved," said professor roumann. "he slipped this magnet into the equilibrium machine, knowing that in time it would cause a deflection of the delicate needles, and so shift the centre of gravity. he must have done this as a last resort, and to provide for his revenge in case we discovered him on board after we started. it was a cruel revenge, for had i not discovered it we would soon all be killed." "is the machine all right now?" asked jack. "it will be in a few minutes. here, take this magnet and put it as far away from the engine room as possible." it was the work of but a few minutes, now that the disturbing element was removed, to readjust the gravity machine, and mr. roumann called: "look out, now, everybody! we're going to turn right side up again!" as he spoke he turned a small valve wheel. there was a clanging of heavy ballast weights, which slid down their rods to the proper places. then, like some great fish turning over in the water, the _annihilator_ turned over in the ether, and was once more on her proper keel, if such a shaped craft can be said to have a keel. of course, the occupants of the space ship went slipping and sliding back, even as they had fallen ceilingward before, but they were prepared for it, and no one was hurt. from the galley came a chorus of cries, as pots and pans once more scattered about washington, but there was no more soup to spill. as soon as the _annihilator_ was righted, the cardite motor began to work automatically, and once more the projectile, with the seekers of the moon, was shooting through space at their former speed. they had lost considerable distance, but it was easy to make it up. "well, that _was_ an experience," remarked jack, as he and his chum began picking up the tools and other objects that were scattered all about by the change in equilibrium. "i should say yes," agreed mark. "i'm glad it didn't happen at dinner time. that fellow axtell is a fiend to think of such a thing." "indeed, he is! but we're all right now, though it did feel funny to be turned upside down." an inspection of the projectile was made, but they could discover no particular damage done. she seemed to be moving along the same as before, and, except for the upsetting of things in the store-room, it would hardly have been known, an hour later, that a dreadful accident was narrowly averted. washington made more soup, and soon had a fine meal ready, over which the travellers discussed their recent experience. "and when do you think we will arrive?" asked jack of mr. henderson. "we ought to be at the moon inside of two days now. we have not made quite the speed we calculated on, but that does not matter. i think we will go even more slowly on the remainder of the trip, as i wish to take some scientific observations." "yes, and so do i," added mr. roumann. "i think if we make fifteen miles a second from now on we will be moving fast enough." accordingly the cardite motor was slowed down, and the projectile shot through space at slightly reduced speed, while the two scientists made several observations, and did some intricate calculating about ether pressure, the distance of heavenly bodies and other matters of interest only to themselves. it was on the afternoon of the third day following the turning turtle of the _annihilator_ that mark, who was looking through a telescope in the pilot-house, called out: "i say, jack, look here!" "what's the matter?" asked his chum. "why, we're rushing right at the moon! i can see the mountains and craters on it as plain as though we were but five miles away!" "then we must be nearly there," observed jack. "let's tell the others, mark." they hurried to inform the two professors, who at once left their tables of figures and entered the steering chamber. then, after gazing through the glass, mr. henderson announced: "friends, we will land on the moon in half an hour. get ready." "are we really going to be walking around the moon inside of thirty minutes?" asked mark. "i don't know about walking around on it," answered the german. "we first have to see if there is an atmosphere there for us to breathe, and whether the temperature is such as we can stand. but the annihilator will soon be there." the speed of the cardite motor was increased, and so rapidly did the projectile approach luna that glasses were no longer needed to distinguish the surface of the moon. there she floated in space, a great, silent ball, but not like the earth, pleasantly green, with lakes and rivers scattered about in verdant forests. no, for the moon presented a desolate surface to the gaze of the travellers. great, rugged mountain peaks arose all about immense caverns that seemed hundreds of miles deep. the surface was cracked and seamed, as if by a moonquake. silence and terrible loneliness seemed to confront them. "maybe it's better on some other part of the surface," said jack, in a low voice. "perhaps," agreed mark. "it's certainly not inviting there." nearer and nearer they came to the moon. it no longer looked like a great sphere, for they were so close that their vision could only take in part of the surface, and it began to flatten out, as the earth does to a balloonist. and the nearer they came to it the more rugged, the more terrible, the more desolate did it appear. would they be able to find a place to land, or would they go hurtling down into some awful crater, or be dashed upon the sharp peak of some mountain of the moon? it was a momentous question, and anxious were the faces of the two professors. "mr. henderson, if you will undertake to steer to some level place, i will take charge of the motor," suggested mr. roumann. "i will gradually reduce the speed, and get the repelling machine in readiness, so as to render our landing gentle." "very well," responded the aged scientist, as he grasped the steering wheel. the progress of the _annihilator_ was gradually checked. more and more slowly it approached the moon. the mountains seemed even higher now, and the craters deeper. "what a terrible place," murmured jack. "i shouldn't want to live there." "me either," said mark. "can you see a place to land?" called professor roumann through the speaking-tube from the engine room to the steering tower. "yes, we seem to be approaching a fairly level plateau," was mr. henderson's reply. "very well, then, i'll start the repelling machine." the cardite motor was stopped. the projectile was now being drawn toward the moon by the gravity force of the dead ball that once had been a world like ours. slowly and more slowly moved the great projectile. there was a moment of suspense. mr. henderson threw over the steering wheel. the _annihilator_ moved more slowly. then came a gentle shock. the dishes in the galley rattled, and there was the clank of machinery. the shanghai rooster crowed. "we're on the moon at last!" cried jack, peering from an observation window at the rugged surface outside. "yes; and now to see what it's like," added mark. "we'll go outside, and----" "wait," cautioned professor roumann. "first we must see if we can breathe on the moon, and whether the temperature will support life. i must make some tests before we venture out of the projectile." chapter xix torches of life the natural inclination of the boys to rush out on the surface of the moon to see what it was like was checked by the words of caution from professor roumann. "do you think it would be dangerous to venture outside the projectile?" asked jack, as he looked from the window and noted the rugged, uneven surface of the moon. "very much so," was the answer. "according to most astronomers, there is absolutely no air on the moon, also no moisture, and the temperature is either very high or around the freezing point. we must find out what it is." "how can we?" inquired mark. "i'll soon show you," went on the german. "professor henderson, will you kindly assist me." when it had been decided to come to the moon in quest for the field of diamonds, certain changes had been made in the _annihilator_ to fit it for new conditions that might be met. one of these consisted of an aperture in the two sides of the projectile permitting certain delicate instruments to be thrust out, so that the conditions they indicated could be read on dials or graduated scales from within. "we will first make a test of the temperature," said mr. roumann, "as that will be the easiest." accordingly a thermometer was put outside, and those in the air-craft anxiously watched the red column of spirits. the temperature was marked as seventy-five inside the _annihilator_, but the thermometer had not been outside more than a second before it began falling. "good!" exclaimed mr. henderson, as he noted it. "the temperature is going down. i'd rather have it too cold than too hot. we can stand a minus fifty of cold better than two hundred and twelve of heat. we have fur garments with us." "it is still going down," remarked jack, as he saw the red column drop down past the thirty mark. "below freezing," added mark. the spirits fell in the tube until they touched twenty-eight degrees, and there they remained. "twenty-eight degrees," remarked professor henderson. "that isn't so bad. at least, we can stand that if we are warmly clad." "yes, but it will be colder to-night," said jack. for they had landed on the moon in bright sunlight. "to-night?" questioned the german scientist, with a smile. "yes, it's always colder when the sun goes down," went on the lad. "you have forgotten one thing," said mr. henderson, with a smile at his young protã©gã©. "you must remember, jack, that the nights and days here are each fourteen days long--that is, fourteen of our days." "how's that?" asked jack. "why," broke in mark, who was a trifle better student than was his chum, "don't you remember that the moon rotates on its axis once a month, or in about twenty-eight days, to be exact, and so half of that time is day and half night, just as on our earth, when it revolves on its axis in twenty-four hours, half the time is day and half the time is night." "sure, i ought to have remembered," declared jack. "mark is right," added mr. henderson. "and, as we have most fortunately arrived on the moon at the beginning of the long day, we will have fourteen days of sunshine, during which we may expect the temperature to remain at about twenty-eight degrees. but now about the atmosphere." "we will test that directly," went on the german. "it will take some time longer, though." various instruments were brought forth and thrust out of the opening in the side of the projectile, which opening was so arranged that it was closed hermetically while the instruments were put forth. then the readings of the dials or scales were taken, and computations made. in fact, some of what corresponded to the moon's atmosphere was secured in a hollow steel cup and brought inside the _annihilator_ for analysis. "well," remarked professor roumann, as he bent over a test tube, the contents of which he had put through several processes, "i am afraid we cannot breathe on the moon." "can't breathe on it?" gasped jack. "then we can't go out and walk around it." "i didn't say that," resumed the german, with a smile. "i said we couldn't breathe the moon's atmosphere. in fact there is nothing there that we would call atmosphere. there is absolutely no oxygen, and there are a number of poisonous gases that would instantly cause death if inhaled." "then how are we to get out and hunt for those diamonds, professor?" went on jack. "gee whiz! if i'd known that, i wouldn't have come. this is tough luck!" "maybe the professor can suggest a way out of the difficulty, boys," spoke mr. henderson. "it certainly would be too bad if, after our perilous trip, we couldn't get out of our cage and walk around the moon." "i think perhaps i can discover a way so that it will be safe to venture forth," said mr. roumann. "but i must first conduct some further experiments. in the meanwhile suppose you boys get out some fur-lined garments, for, though it is only twenty-eight degrees, we will need to be well clad after the time spent inside this warm projectile." "it does look as if he expected to get us out," remarked jack, as he and his chum went to where andy sudds was. "yes, you'll get a chance to pick up diamonds after all, jack. that is, if there are any here." "of course there are diamonds. you wait and see," and then, with the help of the old hunter, they took from the store-room their fur garments. it was half an hour before the warm clothes were sorted out, and then the boys went back to where the two professors were. "well," asked jack cautiously, "can we go outside?" "i think so," answered the german cheerfully. "but you must always be careful to carry one of these with you," and he handed to each of the boys a steel rod about two feet long, at the end of which was a small iron box, with perforations in the sides and top. "what is this?" asked jack. "it looks like a magician's wand." "and that is exactly what it is," said mr. henderson. "as there is no atmosphere fit to breathe on the moon, we have been forced to make our own, boys. you each hold what may be called torches of life. to venture out without them would mean instant death by suffocation or poison." "and will these save our lives?" asked mark. "yes," said mr. roumann. "in the iron boxes on those rods are certain chemicals, rich in oxygen and other elements, which, when brought in contact with the gases on the moon, will dispel a cloud of air about whoever carries them--air such as we find on our earth. so, boys, be careful never to venture out without the torches of life. i had them prepared in anticipation of some such emergency as this, and all that was necessary was to put in the chemicals. this i have done, and now, if you wish, you may go out and stroll about the moon." chapter xx on the edge of a crater there was a little hesitation after professor roumann had spoken. even though he assured them all that it would be safe to venture out on the surface of the moon, with its chilling temperature and its poisonous "atmosphere" (if such it can be termed), there was an uncanny feeling about stepping forth into the midst of the desolation that was on every side. for it was desolate--terribly so! not a sound broke the stillness. there was no life--no motion--as far as could be seen. not a tree or shrub relieved the rugged monotony of the landscape. it was like a dead world. "and to think that people may have once lived here," observed jack, in a low voice. "yes, and to think that there may be people on the other side of the moon even now," added mark. "we must take a look if it's possible." "well," remarked mr. henderson, after a while, "are we going out and see what it's like or not." "of course, we are," said jack. "come on, mark, i'm not afraid." "me either. do we have to do anything to the torches to make them operate, professor roumann?" "merely press this lever," and the scientist showed them where there was one in the handle of the steel rod. "as soon as that is pressed, it admits a liquid to the chemicals and the oxygen gas is formed, rising all around you, like a protecting vapor. after that it is automatic." "how long will the supply of chemical last?" inquired jack. "each one is calculated to give out gas for nearly two weeks," was the reply; "possibly for a little longer. but come, i want to see how they work. here is your life-torch, professor henderson, and there is one for you, too, andy, and washington." "'scuse me!" exclaimed the colored man hastily, as he started back toward the kitchen. "why, what's the matter?" asked jack. "don't you want to go out, and walk around the moon, and pick up diamonds?" "diamonds am all right," answered washington, "but i jest done fo'got dat i ain't fed my shanghai rooster to-day, an' i 'spects he's mighty hungry. you folks go on out an' pick up a few obde sparklers, an' when i gits de shanghai fed i'll prognosticate myse'f inter conjunction wif yo' all." "you mean you'll join us?" asked mark. "dat's what i means, suah." "why, i do believe washington's afraid!" cried jack jokingly. "askeered! who's afraid?" retorted the colored man boldly. "didn't i done tole yo' dat i got t' feed my rooster? heah him crowin' now? yo' all go 'long, an' i'll meet yo' later," and with that washington disappeared quickly. "well, he'll soon pluck up courage and come out," declared professor henderson. "let him go now, and we'll go out and see what it is like on the moon." "i hope we find those diamonds," murmured jack, and mark smiled. in order not to admit the poisonous gases into the projectile, it was decided to leave the annihilator and return to it by means of a double door, forming a sort of air lock. it was similar to the water lock used on the submarine. that is, the adventurers entered a chamber built in between the two steel walls of their craft. the interior door was then sealed shut automatically. next the outer door was opened, and they could step directly to the surface of the moon and into the deadly atmosphere. "well, are we all ready?" asked mr. roumann, as he picked up one of the chemical torches. "i guess so," responded andy sudds, who had his gun with him. "i hope i see some game. i haven't had a shot in a long while." "you're not likely to up here," spoke mr. henderson. "game is scarce on the moon, unless it's some of that green cheese washington talked about." they entered the air lock and fastened the door behind them. then professor roumann pressed on the lever that swung open the outer portal. "hold your torches close to your head," he called. "the moon atmosphere may be too strong for us at first until we create a mist of oxygen about us." out upon the surface of the moon they stepped, probably the first earth beings so to do, though they had evidence that the inhabitants of mars had preceded them. for a moment they all gasped for breath, but only for a moment. then the gas began to flow from the life-torches, and they could breathe as well as they had done while in the projectile, or while on the earth. "well, if this isn't great!" cried jack, gazing about him. "it certainly beats anything i ever saw," came from mark. "wonderful, wonderful," murmured professor henderson. "we will be able to gain much valuable scientific knowledge here, professor roumann. we must at once begin our observations." "i agree with you," spoke the german. andy sudds said nothing. he was looking around for a sight of game, with his rifle in readiness. but not a sign of life met his eager eyes. once they were outside the projectile it was even more desolate than it had seemed when they looked from the observation windows. it was absolutely still. not a breath of wind fanned their cheeks, for where there is no air to be heated and cooled there could be no wind which is caused by the differences of temperature of the air, the cold rushing in to fill the vacuum caused by the rising of the hot vapors. clad in their fur-lined garments, which effectually defied the cold, the adventurers stepped out. over the rugged ground they went, gazing curiously about them. it was like being in the wildest part of the canadian rocky mountains of our earth, and, in fact, the surface of the moon was not unlike the mountainous and hilly sections of the earth. there were no long ranges of rugged peaks, though, but rather scattered pinnacles and deep hollows, great craters adjoining immense, towering steeples of rocks, with comparatively level ground in between. the life-torches worked to perfection. as our friends carried them, there arose about their bodies a cloud of invisible vapor, which, however, was as great a protection from the poisonous gases as a coat of mail would have been. "this is great!" exclaimed jack. "it's much better than to have to put on a diving-suit and carry a cylinder of oxygen or compressed air about on our shoulders." they strolled away from the projectile and gazed back at it. nothing moved--not a sound broke the stillness. there was only the blazing sunlight, which, however, did not seem to warm the atmosphere much, for it was very chilly. on every side were great rocks, rugged and broken, with here and there immense fissures in the surface of the moon, fissures that seemed miles and miles long. "well, here's where i look for diamonds," called jack, as he stepped boldly out, followed by mark. "let's see who'll find the first sparkler." "all right," agreed his chum, and they strolled away together, slightly in advance of the two professors and andy, who remained together, the scientist discussing the phenomena on every side and the hunter looking in vain for something to shoot. but he had come to a dead world. almost before they knew it jack and mark had gone on quite some distance. though they were not aware of it at that moment, it was much easier to walk on the moon than it was on the earth, for they weighed only one sixth as much, and the attraction of gravitation was so much less. but suddenly jack remembered that curious fact, and, stooping, he picked up a stone. he cast it from him, at the same time uttering a yell. "what's the matter?" called mark. "look how far i fired that rock!" shouted jack. "talk about it being easy! why, i believe i could throw a mile if i tried hard!" "it goes six times as far as it would on the earth," spoke his chum, "and we can also jump six times as far." "then let's try that!" proposed jack. "there's a nice level place over there. come on, i'll wager that i can beat you." "done!" agreed mark, and they hurried to the spot, their very walking being much faster than usual. "i'll go first," proposed jack, "and you see if you can come up to me." he poised himself on a little hummock of rock, balanced himself for a moment, and then hurled himself through space. prepared as he was, in a measure, for something strange, he never bargained for what happened. it was as if he had been fired from some catapult of the ancient romans. through the air he hurtled, like some great flying animal, covering fifty feet from a standing jump. "say, that's great!" yelled mark. "here i come, and i'll beat----" he did not finish, for a cry of horror came from jack. "i'm going to fall into a crater--a bottomless pit! i'm on the edge of it!" yelled the lad who had jumped. and, with horror-stricken eyes, mark saw his chum disappear from sight beyond a pile of rugged rocks, toward which he had leaped. the last glimpse mark had was of the life-torch, which jack held up in the air, close to his head. "jack--in a crater!" gasped mark, as he ran forward, holding his own life-torch close to his mouth and nose. chapter xxi washington sees a ghost advancing by leaps and bounds, and getting over the ground in a manner most surprising, mark soon found himself on the edge of the great, yawning crater, into which his chum jack had started to slide. i say started, for, fortunately, the lad had been saved from death but by a narrow margin. as mark gazed down into the depths, which seemed fathomless, and which were as black as night, he saw his friend clinging to a rocky projection on the side of the extinct volcano. jack had managed to grasp a part of the rough surface as he slid down it after his reckless jump. he looked up and saw mark. "oh, mark, can't you save me?" he gasped. "call professor henderson!" "i'll get you up, don't worry!" called mark, as confidently as he could. "hold tight, jack. what has become of your life-torch?" "i have it here by me. i didn't drop it, and it's on a piece of the rock near my head. otherwise i couldn't breathe. oh, this place is fearfully deep. i guess it hasn't any bottom." "now, keep still, and don't think about that. save your strength, hold fast, and i'll get you up." but, having said that much, mark was not so sure how next to proceed. it was going to be no easy task to haul up jack, and that without ropes or other apparatus. another matter that added to the danger was the necessity of keeping the life-torch close to one's face in order to prevent death by the poisonous gases. mark's first impulse was to hasten back and call the two professors, but he looked over the desolate landscape, and could not see them, and he feared that if he went away jack might slip and fall into the unknown depths of the crater. "i've got to get him out alone," decided mark. "but how can i do it?" he crawled cautiously nearer to the edge of the extinct volcano and looked down. a few loose stones, dislodged by his weight, rattled down the sides. "look out!" cried jack quickly, "or you'll fall, too!" "i'll be careful," answered mark, and then he drew away out of danger, with a queer feeling about his heart, which was beating furiously. mark had hoped to be able to make his way down the side of the crater to where his chum was and help him up. but a look at the steep sides and the uncertain footing afforded by the loose rocks of lava-like formation showed that this could not be done. "i've got to think of a different scheme," decided mark, and, spurred on by the necessity of acting quickly if he was to save jack, he fairly forced his brain to work. for he saw by the strained look on his chum's face that jack could not hold out much longer. "i have it!" cried mark at length. "my fur coat! i can cut it into strips of hide and make a rope. then i can lower it down to jack and haul him up." he did not think, for the moment, of the cold he would feel when he stripped off the fur garment, and when it did come to him in a flash he never hesitated. "after all, i've often been out without an overcoat on cold days," he said to himself. "i guess i can stand it for a while, and when jack is up i can run back to the projectile and keep warm that way." to think was to act, and mark laid down his life-torch to take off the big fur coat. the next instant he had toppled over, almost in a faint, and, had he not fallen so that his head was near the small perforated box on the end of the steel rod, whence came the life-giving gas, the lad might have died. he had forgotten, for the instant, the necessity of always keeping the torch close to his face to prevent the poisonous gases of the moon from overpowering him. mark soon revived while lying on the ground, and, rising, with his torch in his hand, he looked about him. "i've got to have my two hands to work with," he mused, "and yet i've got to hold this torch close to my face. say, a fellow ought to have three hands if he's going to visit the moon. what can i do?" in an instant a plan came to him. he thrust the pointed end of the steel rod in the crevice of some rocks, and it stood upright, so that the perforated box of chemicals was on a level with his face. "there," said mark aloud, "i guess that will work. i can use both my hands now." the plan was a good one. next, taking off his coat, the lad proceeded to cut it into strips, working rapidly. he called to jack occasionally, bidding him keep up his courage. "i'll soon have you out," he said cheeringly. in a few minutes mark had a long, stout strip of hide, and, taking his life-torch with him, he advanced once more to the edge of the crater. he stuck the torch in between some rocks, as before, and looked down at jack. "i--i can't hold on much longer," gasped the unfortunate lad. "hurry, mark!" "all right. i'm going to haul you up now. can you hold on with one hand long enough to slip the loop of this rope over your shoulders?" "i guess so. but where did you get a rope?" "i made it--cut up my fur coat." "but you'll freeze!" "oh, i guess not. here it comes, jack. get ready!" mark lowered the hide rope to his chum. the latter, who managed to get one toe on a small, projecting rock, while he held on with his right hand, used his left to adjust the loop over his shoulders and under his arms. "are you all ready?" asked mark. "yes, but can you pull me up?" "sure. i'm six times as strong as when on the earth. hold steady now, and keep the torch close to your face." mark had placed some pieces of his fur coat under the rope where it passed over the edge of the mouth of the crater to prevent the jagged rocks from cutting the strips of hide. "here you come!" he cried to jack, and he began to haul, taking care to keep his own head near his torch, which was stuck upright. mark had spoken truly when he said he possessed much more than his usual strength. any one who has tried to haul up a person with a rope from a hole, and with no pulleys to adjust the strain of the cable, knows what a task it is. but to mark, on the moon, it was comparatively easy. hand over hand he pulled on the hide rope until, with a final heave, he had jack out of his perilous position. he had pulled him up from the mouth of the crater, and the thick fur coat jack wore had prevented the sharp rocks from injuring him. in another moment he stood beside mark, a trifle weak and shaky from his experience, but otherwise unhurt. "how did you happen to go down there?" asked mark. "not from choice, i assure you," answered jack. "i couldn't see the crater when i jumped, as it was hidden by some rocks, and i was into it before i knew it. but don't stand talking here. put on my coat. i don't need it. i'm warm." "i will not. i'm not a bit cold. but we may as well get back to the projectile, for they'll be worrying about us." thereupon mark broke into a run, for, now that the exertion of hauling up jack was over, he began to feel cool, and the chilling atmosphere of the moon struck through to his bones. in a short time the two lads were back at the _annihilator_, where they found professors roumann and henderson getting a bit anxious about them. their adventure was quickly related, and the boys were cautioned to be more careful in the future. "this moon is a curious, desolate place," said mr. henderson, "and you can't behave on it as you would on the earth. we have discovered some curious facts regarding it, and when we get back i am going to write a book on them. but i think we have seen enough for the present, so we'll stay in the rest of the day and plan for farther trips." "aren't we going to look for those diamonds?" asked jack, who had almost fully recovered from his recent experience. "oh, yes, we will look around for them," assented mr. roumann. "i think, after a day or so, we will move our projectile to another part of the moon. we want to see as much of it as possible." they sat discussing various matters, and, while doing so, washington white peered into the living cabin. "has yo' got one ob dem torch-light processions t' spare?" he asked. "torch-light processions?" queried mark. "what do you think this is, an election, wash?" "i guess he means a life-torch," suggested jack. "are you going out, wash?" "yais, sah, i did think i'd take a stroll around. maybe i kin find a diamond fo' my tie." laughing, jack provided the colored man with one of the torches, instructing him how to use it, and presently washington was seen outside, walking gingerly around, as though he expected to go through the crust of the moon any moment. pretty soon, however, he got more courage and tramped boldly along, peering about on the ground for all the world, as mark said, as if he was looking for chestnuts. they paid no attention to the cook for some little time until, when the boys and the two professors were in the midst of a discussion as to where would be the best place to move the projectile next, they heard him running along the corridor toward the cabin. "wash is in a hurry," observed jack. the next instant they sprang to their feet at the sight of the frightened face of the colored man peering in on them. he was as near white as a negro can ever be, which is a sort of chalk color, and his eyes were wide open with fear. "what's the matter?" asked jack. "a ghost! i done seen de ghost ob a dead man!" gasped the colored man. "a ghost?" repeated mark. "yais, sah, right out yeah! he's lyin' down in a hole--a dead man. golly! but i'se a scared coon, i is!" and washington looked over his shoulder as though he feared the "ghost" had followed him. chapter xxii a breakdown at first they were inclined to regard the announcement of washington lightly, but the too evident fright of the colored man showed that there was some basis for his fear. "tell us just what you saw, and where it was," said mr. henderson. "was the man alive, washington?" "no, sah. how could a ghost be alive? dey is all dead ones, ghosts am!" "there are no such things as ghosts," said mr. henderson sternly. "den how could i see one?" demanded the cook triumphantly, as if there was no further argument. "well, tell us about it," suggested jack. "it were jest dis way," began washington earnestly, and with occasional glances over his shoulder, "i were walkin' along, sort ob lookin' fer dem sparklin' diamonds, an' i didn't see none, when all on a suddint i looked down in a hole, and dere i seen him!" and he brought out the word with a jerk. "saw what--who?" asked mr. roumann. "de ghost--de dead man. he were lyin' all curled up, laik he were asleep, an' when i seed him, i didn't stop t' call him t' dinner, yo' can make up yo' minds t' dat all." "can you show us the place?" inquired jack. "yais, sah, massa jack, dat's what i kin. i'll point it out from dish yeah winder, but i ain't g'wine dar ag'in; no, sah, 'scuse me!" "well, show us then," suggested mark. "i wonder what it can be?" he went on. "maybe one of the people who came from mars after the diamonds, who was forgotten and left here, and who died," said jack. "it's possible," murmured mr. henderson. "however, we'll go take a look. get on your fur coats, boys, and take the life-torches. will you come, andy?" "sure. it's got to be more than a ghost to scare me," said the hunter. they emerged from the projectile and walked in the direction washington had pointed, holding their gas torches near their heads and talking of what they might see. "this will be evidence in favor of my diamond theory," declared jack. "it shows that the martians were here." "wait and see what it is," suggested his chum. they walked along a short distance farther, and then mark spoke. "that ought to be the place over there," he said, pointing to a depression between two tall pinnacles of black rock. jack sprang forward, and a moment later uttered a cry of astonishment. "here it is!" he called. "a dead man!" "a dead man?" echoed professor henderson. "a petrified man," added jack, in awe-struck tones. "he's turned to stone." a few seconds later they were all grouped around the strange object--it was a man no longer, but had once been one. it was a petrified human being, a full-grown man, to judge by the size, and it was a solid image in stone, even the garments with which he had been clothed being turned to rock. for a moment no one spoke, and they gazed in silence at what was an evidence of former life on the moon. the man was huddled up, with the knees drawn toward the stomach and the arms bent around the body, as if the man had died in agony. the features were scarcely distinguishable. "that man was never an inhabitant of mars," spoke professor henderson, in a low voice. "he is much too large, and he has none of the characteristics of the martians." "i agree with you," came from mr. roumann. "then who is he?" asked jack. "i think," said the aged scientist, "that we are now gazing on all that was once mortal of one of the inhabitants of the moon." "an inhabitant of the moon?" gasped mark. "yes; why not?" went on mr. henderson. "i believe the moon was once a planet like our earth--perhaps even a part of it, and i think that it was inhabited. in time it cooled so that life could no longer be supported, or, at least, this side of the moon presents that indication. the people were killed--frozen to death, and by reason of the chemical action of the gases, or perhaps from the moon being covered with water in which was a large percentage of lime, they were turned to stone. that is what happened to this poor man." "such a thing is possible," admitted professor roumann gravely. and, indeed, it is, as the writer can testify, for in the metropolitan museum in new york there are the remains of an ancient south american miner, whose body has been turned into solid copper. the corpse, of which the features are partly distinguishable, was found four hundred feet down in an old copper mine, where the dripping from hidden springs, the waters of which were rich in copper sulphate, had converted the man's body into a block of metal, retaining its natural shape. the body is drawn up in agony, and there is every indication that the man was killed by a cave-in of the mine. some of his tools were found near him. they remained gazing at the weird sight of the petrified man for some time. "then the moon was once inhabited?" asked jack at length. "i believe so--yes," answered professor henderson. "then where are the other people?" asked mark. "there must be more than one left. why was this man off here alone?" "we don't know," responded the german scientist. "perhaps he was off alone in the mountains when death overtook him, or perhaps all his companions were buried under an upheaval of rock. we can only theorize." "it will be something else to put in the book i am to write," said mr. henderson. "but, now that we have evidence of former life on the moon, we must investigate further. we will make an attempt to go to the other side of the country, and to that end i suggest that we set our projectile in motion and travel a bit. there is little more to see here." this plan met with general approval, and, after some photographs had been taken of the petrified man, and the professors had made notes, and set down data regarding him, and had tried to guess how long he had been dead, they went back to the _annihilator_. "well, did yo' all see him?" asked washington. "we sure did," answered jack. "you weren't mistaken that time." they got ready to move the projectile, but decided to remain over night where they were. "over night" being the way they spoke of it, though, as i have said, there was perpetual daylight for fourteen days at a time on the moon. professors roumann and henderson made a few more observations for scientific purposes. they found traces of some vegetation, but it was of little value for food, even to the lower forms of animal life, they decided. there was also a little moisture; noticed at certain hours of the day. but, in the main, the place where they had landed was most desolate. "i hope we get to a better place soon," said jack, just before they sealed themselves up in the projectile to travel to a new spot. as distance was comparatively small on the moon, for her diameter is only a little over two thousand miles and the circumference only about six thousand six hundred miles, the _annihilator_ could not be speeded up. if it went too fast, it would soon be off the moon and into space again. accordingly the cardite motor was geared to send the big craft along at about forty miles an hour, and at times they went even slower than that, when they were passing over some part of the surface which the professors wished to photograph or observe closely. they did not rise high into the air, but flew along at an elevation of about two hundred feet, steering in and out to avoid the towering peaks scattered here and there. occasionally they found themselves over immense craters that seemed to have no bottom. for two days they moved here and there, finding no further signs of life, neither petrified nor natural, though they saw many strange sights, and some valuable pictures and scientific data was obtained. it was on the third day, when they were approaching the side of the moon which from time immemorial has been hidden from view of the inhabitants of the earth, that jack, who was with mark in the engine room, while the two professors were in the pilot-house, remarked to his chum: "mark, doesn't it strike you that the water pump and the air apparatus aren't working just right?" "they don't seem to be operating very smoothly," admitted mark, after an examination. "that's what i thought. let's call mr. henderson. the machinery may need adjusting." jack started from the engine room to do this, and as he paused on the threshold there was a sudden crash. part of the air pump seemed to fly off at a tangent, and a second later had smashed down on the cardite motor. this stopped in an instant, and the projectile began falling. fortunately it was but a short distance above the moon's surface, and came down with a jar, which did not injure the travellers. but there was sufficient damage done to the machinery, for with the breaking of the air pump the water apparatus also went out of commission, and together with the breakdown of the cardite motor had fairly stalled the _annihilator_. "what's the matter?" cried professor henderson, running in from the pilot-house, for an automatic signal there had apprised him that something was wrong. "there's a bad break," said jack ruefully. "a bad break! i should say there was," remarked the scientist. "i think we'll have to lay up for repairs." and he called mr. roumann. chapter xxiii lost on the moon notwithstanding that they were somewhat accustomed to having accidents happen, it was not with the most pleasant feelings in the world that the moon travellers contemplated this one. it meant a delay, and a delay was the one thing they did not want just now. they desired to get to the other side of the moon while the long period of sunshine gave them an opportunity for observation. true there was some time yet ere the long night of fourteen days would settle down, but they felt that they would need every hour of sunshine. "well, it's tough luck, but it can't be helped," said mark. "no, let's get right to work," suggested jack. they got out their tools and started to repair the two pumps. it was found that the cardite motor was not badly damaged, one of the negative electrical plates merely having been smashed by a piece of the broken connecting rod of the air pump. it was only a short time before the motor was ready to run again. but it could not be successfully operated without the air and water pumps, and it was necessary to fix them next. new gaskets were needed, while an extra valve and some sliding gears had to be replaced. "it's an all day's job," remarked professor henderson. but many hands made light work, and even washington and andy were called upon to do their share. by dinner time the work was more than half done, and professor roumann, announced that he and mr. henderson would finish it if jack and mark would take a look at the exterior of the projectile, to see if any repairs were needed to that. the boys found that some of the exterior piping had become loosed at the joints, because of the jar of the sudden descent, and, taking the necessary tools outside, while they stuck their life-torches upright near them, they labored away. at four o'clock the two lads had their task completed, and at the same time professor henderson announced that the air and water pumps were now in good shape again. "then let's get under way at once," suggested mr. roumann. "we have lost enough time as it is. hurry inside, boys, and we'll start." the two chums were glad enough to do so, and in a few minutes they were again moving through the air toward the unknown portion of the moon. below the travellers, as they could see by looking down through a plate-glass window in the floor of the projectile, were the same rugged peaks, the same large and small craters that had marked the surface of the moon from the time they had first had a glimpse of it. there was an uninteresting monotony about it, unrelieved by any save the very sparest vegetation. "i am beginning to think more and more that we will find people on the other side of this globe," remarked mr. roumann, as he made an observation through a telescope. "what strengthens your belief?" inquired mr. henderson. "the fact that the vegetation is growing thicker. there are many more plants below us now than there were before. this part of the moon is better able to support life than the portion we have just come from." this seemed to be so, but they were still some distance from the opposite side of the moon. "i don't see anything of those diamonds you talked so much about, jack," said mark, with a smile, a little later. "i guess all the reonaris you get you can put in a hollow tooth." "you wait," was all jack replied. the projectile was slowed up to permit the two professors to make some notes regarding a particularly large and deep crater, and a few minutes later when mark, who was in the engine room, attempted to speed up the cordite motor it would not respond. "humph! i wonder what's wrong?" he asked of jack. "better call mr. roumann, and not try to fix it yourself," suggested his chum, when, in response to various movements of the lever, the machine seemed to go slower and slower. the german came in answer to the summons. "ha!" he exclaimed, "that motor is broken again. we shall have to stop once more for repairs. i shall need to take it all apart, i fear. get me the negative plate remover, will you, mark?" the lad went to the tool chest for it. he opened the lid and fumbled about inside. "it doesn't seem to be here," he announced. "what! the negative plate remover not there?" cried the professor. "why, it must be. it is one of the new tools we got, and it has not been used for anything; has it?". "oh, by jinks!" cried jack suddenly. "what's the matter?" asked his chum. "that plate remover! don't you remember you and i had it when we were fixing the pipes outside the projectile, when we had the other breakdown? we must have left it back there on the ground." jack and his chum gazed blankly at each other. "i guess we did," admitted mark dubiously. "and it is the only one we have," said mr. roumann. "we need it very much, too, for the projectile can't very well be moved without it." "how can we get it?" asked jack. "i'm sorry. it was my fault." "it was as much mine as yours," asserted mark. "i guess it's up to us to go back after it. it isn't far. we can easily walk it." there seemed to be nothing else to do, and, after some discussion, it was decided to have the two boys walk back after the missing tool, which was a very valuable one. "take fresh life-torches with you," advised mr. henderson, "and you had better carry some food with you. it may be farther back than you think, and you may get hungry." "i guess it will be a good thing to take some lunch along," admitted jack. "and some water, too. we can't get a drink here unless we come to a spring, and we haven't seen any since we arrived." "i'll go with you, if you don't mind," said andy. "i may see something to shoot." the three of them, each one carrying a freshly charged vapor-torch, a basket of food and a bottle of water, started off, well wrapped in their fur coats. andy had a compass to enable them to make their way back to where the tool was left, for, amid the towering peaks and the valley-like depressions, very little of the level surface of the moon could be seen at a time. they walked on for several hours, every now and then hoping that they had reached the place where the projectile had been halted, and where they expected to find the tool. but so many places looked alike that they were deceived a number of times. at length, however, they reached the spot and found the instrument where jack had carelessly dropped it. they picked it up and turned to go back, when andy sudds saw a large crater off to one side. "boys, i'm going to have a look down that," he said. "it may contain a bear or wildcat, and i can get a shot." "guess there isn't much danger of a bear being on the moon," said mark, but the old hunter leaned as far over the edge of the crater as he dared. "no, there's nothing here," he announced, with almost a sigh, and he straightened up. as he did so there came a tinkling sound, as if some one had dropped a piece of money. "what's that?" asked jack. "by heck! it's the compass!" cried andy. "it slipped from my pocket when i stooped over. now it's gone!" there was no question of that. they could hear the instrument tinkling far down in the unfathomable depths, striking from side to side of the crater as it went down and down. "we'll never see that again," spoke mark dubiously. "can we get back to the projectile without it?" asked jack. "oh, i fancy i can pick my trail back," answered the hunter. "it isn't going to be easy, for there are no landmarks to guide me, but i'll do my best. i ought to have known better than to put a compass in that pocket." it was not with very light hearts that they started back, and for a time they went cautiously. then, as they seemed to get on familiar ground, they increased their pace and covered several miles. "say," remarked. jack, as he sat down on a big stone. "i don't know how the rest of you feel, but i'm tired. we've come quite a distance since we picked up that tool." "yes, farther than it took us to find it after we left the projectile," added mark. "i wonder if we're going right?" the two boys looked at andy. he scratched his head in perplexity. "i can't be sure, but it seems to me that we came past here," he said. "i seem to remember that big rock." "there are lots like it," observed jack. "suppose we try over to the left," spoke mark, after they had rested for ten minutes. they swerved in that direction, and, after keeping on that trail for some time, and becoming more and more convinced that it was the wrong one, they turned to the right. that did not bring them to familiar ground, and there was no sight of the projectile. "let's go straight ahead," suggested andy, after a puzzled pause. "i think that will be best." "well, which way is straight ahead?" asked mark. "that's so, it is hard to tell," admitted the hunter. "i wish i hadn't lost that compass." they wandered about for an hour longer. they could seem to make no progress, though they covered much ground. suddenly jack called out: "say, we've been going around in a circle!" "in a circle?" asked mark. "yes," went on his chum. "here's the very rock i sat down on a while ago. i remember it, for i scratched my initials on it." jack pointed out the letters. there was no disputing it. they had made a complete circle. for a moment they maintained silence in the face of this alarming fact. then mark exclaimed: "i guess we're lost!" "lost on the moon!" added jack, in an awestruck voice, and he gazed on the chill and desolate scene all about them; the great pinnacles of rocks, in fantastic form; the immense black caverns of craters on either hand; the sickly green vegetation. "lost on the moon!" whispered mark, and there was not even an echo of his voice to keep them company. only a chill, desolate silence! chapter xxiv desolate wanderings for a moment the three stood helplessly there and stared at each other. they could scarcely comprehend their situation at first. then, with a glance at the cold and quiet scene all about them, a look up at the sun, which was the only cheerful object in the whole landscape, jack observed: "oh, i say, come on now, don't let's give up this way! we have only taken a wrong turn, and i'll wager that the projectile will be just around the corner. come on," and he started off. "yes," said mark, "that's the trouble. there are so many corners, and we have taken so many wrong turns, that we're all confused. i think the best thing to do will be to stay here a while and pull ourselves together." "that's right," spoke old andy. "many a time in the woods i've got all confused-like, and then i'd sit down and think, and i'd get on the right path in a few minutes after." "the trouble here is," said jack, "that there are no woods. if there were we might know how to get out of them. but think of it! lost on the moon, in the midst of a whole lot of queer mountain peaks, and big holes that would hold half a dozen cities of the united states at the same time, and never know it! this is a fearful place to be lost in!" "i'm not going to admit that we're lost," declared mark stoutly. "hu! you're like the indian," spoke jack. "the indian who got lost in the woods. he insisted that it wasn't he who was lost, that it was his wigwam that couldn't be found. he knew where he himself was all the while. that's our case, i suppose. we're here, but the projectile is lost." "ha! ha!" laughed andy sudds. "that's a pretty good joke!" "but not being able to find the projectile is no joke," went on mark, who always took matters more seriously than did his chum. "what are we going to do?" he added. "we can't stay here like this." "maybe we'll have to," declared jack. "we certainly can't get off the moon--at least, not until we reach the projectile, and i'd like to discover those diamonds before we go back." "hu! those diamonds!" exploded mark. "i think this whole thing is a wild-goose chase, anyhow! if it hadn't been for those diamonds we wouldn't have come to the moon. i don't believe there are any diamonds here, anyhow." "well, i can't prove it to you now, but i will before we get back," asserted jack. "we'll be wearing diamonds, as the song says." "diamonds aren't going to keep us warm when we're freezing," went on mark, who seemed bound to look on the dark side, "and we can't eat 'em when we're hungry. a lot of good they'll do us if we do find them!" "oh, cheer up!" suggested jack cheerfully. "and, speaking of eating, what's the matter with having some lunch? what did we bring it along for if we're not going to eat? let's begin." his good spirits were contagious, not that andy needed any special cheering up, but mark did. in a few minutes they were seated on some rugged rocks, and, with their life-torches stuck in cracks, so that the perforated metal boxes of chemicals would be on a level with their faces, they opened the baskets they had been fore-sighted enough to bring with them. "why, i feel better already," asserted jack, as he munched some sandwiches which washington white had made. "as soon as we've finished we'll have another hunt for the projectile, and i'll wager that we'll find it." "i wouldn't finish if i were you," suggested andy, who was eating sparingly. "finish what?" asked jack. "all your lunch. you see," the old hunter went on, "we may find the projectile, and, again, we may not. i'm inclined to think we're not so very far from it, but we may be some time locating it in among all these peaks and craters. so it will be the best plan to save some of our lunch and drinking water until--well, until we're hungry again," and he carefully put back into his basket the remains of the food. "you don't mean to say you think we'll be all day finding the annihilator, do you?" jack paused, with a sandwich half way to his mouth as he asked this question. "well, it's best to be on the safe side," spoke andy guardedly. "we may find it, and, again, we may not. save your powder against the time of need, i say--by powder meaning victuals and drink. we can't drop in a restaurant up here, and i don't see much game to shoot, and i should hate to eat such fodder as this," and he poked with his foot some sickly green vines, growing on the ground. the boys' faces, which had become more cheerful, assumed a serious look. jack stopped eating at once and placed back in the basket his remaining sandwiches. he also corked up the bottle of water, which was kept from freezing by means of a fur pouch in which it was carried. "if there's a possibility of being lost some time," spoke mark, "we'd better figure out just how long our food will last," and he examined the contents of his basket. fortunately washington white, with a knowledge of the appetites of the chums, had filled the baskets with lavish hands. there was, they found, food enough to last them three days, if they ate sparingly, and there was enough water for half that time, providing they only took small sips when thirsty. but they had noticed, in one or two places, little pools of liquid, which they had not tasted, but which might prove to be drinking water. certainly they would need more if they were destined to remain away from the projectile for very long. "well, then," observed mark, when the food calculation was over, "it appears that we can remain lost for about three days, at the most." "oh, but we'll be back home--i mean in the projectile--long before that," declared jack. "i wish i was sure of that," murmured andy with a dubious shake of his head. "well, let's move on again," suggested jack. "we feel better now, and maybe we'll have better luck." they started off, tramping over the rugged surface of the moon, while the sun shone with tepid heat down on them. they had to go this way and that to avoid the immense fissures in the ground or the yawning craters, which loomed deep, and in awful silence, in their path. sometimes they climbed small mountains or crawled in and out of small craters, slipping and stumbling. they were not cold, for their fur garments kept them comfortably warm, and there was no wind to make the freezing temperature search through the crevices of their clothing. but it was the desolate silence, the utter absence of any form of life save the pale green vegetation that got on their nerves. it was like being in a dead world--on a planet that seemed about to dissolve into space. they began their further search for the projectile with hope in their hearts, but this gradually gave way to despair as they wandered on over the desolate surface, and saw nothing but the same rugged peaks, the same yawning caverns and the innumerable craters, large and small. on they wandered, looking on all sides for the missing projectile, but they had no glimpse of it. even climbing to one of the high peaks, whence they had a view of the surrounding country, afforded them no trace of the _annihilator_, they were utterly lost. old andy, who, by reason of his experience as a trapper and hunter, had taken the lead, came to a halt. he looked around helplessly. he did not know what to do. "well, boys," he remarked at length, "i don't like to say it, but i can't seem to get anywhere. i give up." "give up?" murmured jack, in blank dismay. "yes, for the time being," said the old man. "i'm all played out. i guess we all are. we must have a rest. here's a sort of cave. let's crawl in and have a sleep. then maybe we can do something to-morrow--no, not to-morrow, for they don't have that on the moon, where the day is fourteen days long--but after we sleep we may be able to find our way back. anyhow, i've got to get some sleep," and without another word the old hunter went into the cave, and, fixing his life-torch near his head, where the fumes from it would dissipate the poisonous gases of the moon, he closed his eyes, and was soon in slumber. "i--i guess we'd better do the same," said jack, and mark nodded. they were both sick at heart. chapter xxv the petrified city for a time, after they had entered the cave, which was in the side of a rugged mountain, the boys talked in low tones of their perilous situation. for that it was perilous they both knew. had they been on the earth, lost in some desolate part of it, away from civilization, their plight, would have been bad enough with what little food they possessed. but on the far-off moon--the dead moon, which contained no living creatures save themselves, as far as they could tell--with no form of animal life that might serve to keep them from starving, with only the scantiest of vegetation, their situation was most deplorable. "and then there's another thing," said mark, as if he was cataloguing a list of their troubles. "what is it?" asked jack. "i guess we have all the troubles that belong to us, and more, too." "well, what are we going to do when the life-torches give out, and we can't breathe any more?" asked mark dubiously. "well, i guess it'll be all up with us then, if we don't starve to death in the meanwhile," answered jack. "but i'm afraid we will get out of food before the torches are exhausted. they were freshly filled before we started out after that tool, and they'll last for two weeks. so we don't have to worry about that. "by jinks! this is all my fault, anyhow, it seems. if i hadn't seen that item in the martian paper about the diamonds, we never would have come here, and if i hadn't left that tool on the ground outside of the projectile we wouldn't have had to come back after it, and we wouldn't have become lost. so i guess it's up to me, as the boys say." "oh, nonsense!" exclaimed mark, who, as soon as he heard his chum blaming his own actions, was ready to shoulder part of the responsibility himself. "we all wanted to come to the moon," he went on, "and, as for leaving the tool and forgetting it, i'm as much at fault as you are. let's go to sleep, and maybe we'll feel better when we wake up." it was a new role for mark--to be cheerful in the face of difficulties--and jack appreciated it. they stretched out on the hard, rocky floor of the cavern, taking care to fix their life-torches so that the fumes would dispel the poisonous gases. then the two lads joined andy in slumberland. meanwhile, as may be imagined, those aboard the projectile were very anxious about the fate of the two boys and the hunter. they could not understand what delayed them, and, though they guessed the real cause, after several hours had passed, there was nothing the two scientists could do. they could not move the projectile until it had been repaired, and this could not be done, without the tool--at least, they did not believe so then. nor did mr. henderson and the german think it would be safe to start out in search of the wanderers. "for," said mr. henderson, "if we went we would easily get lost amid these peaks ourselves, and they are so much alike and in such numbers that there is no distinguishing feature about them. we had better stay here in charge of the _annihilator_ until the boys and andy come back. they can't be away much longer now." so worn out and exhausted were the boys and the hunter that they slept for several hours in the cave, and the rest did them good. they awoke in better spirits, and, after a frugal meal and a sip of the fast-dwindling water, they started off once more to locate the projectile. "i'm a regular amateur hunter to go and lose my compass," complained old andy. "i ought to have it fastened to me, like a baby does the rattle-box. i ought to kick myself," and he accepted all the blame for their misadventure. but the boys would not suffer him to thus accuse himself, and they insisted that they would shortly be with the two professors and washington in the _annihilator_ once more. "well, it can't come any too soon," said jack, "for i am beginning to feel the need of a square meal and a big drink of water." "so am i," said mark, "but let's not think of it." all that day they wandered on, crossing the rugged mountains, climbing towering peaks, and descending into deep valleys. at times they skirted the lips of craters, to look shudderingly into the depths of which made them dizzy, for the bottoms were lost to sight in the black gloom that enshrouded the yawning holes. their food was getting less and less, and what there was of it was most unpalatable, for the bread was stale and dry, though the meat kept perfectly in that freezing temperature. how they longed for a hot cup of coffee, such as washington used to make! and how they would have even exchanged their chance of filling their pockets with the moon diamonds for a good meal, such as was so often served in the projectile! on and on they went. once, as they were crossing the lip of a great crater, mark became dizzy, and would have fallen had not jack caught him. mark had forgotten, for the moment, and had lowered his life-torch, so that his mouth and nose were not enclosed in the film of vapor that emanated from the perforated box. "you must be careful," andy warned them. "what's the use?" asked mark despondently. "i don't believe we'll ever find the projectile." "of course we will!" exclaimed jack. "i know we can't be far from it, only we can't see it because of the mountains. if we only had some way of letting them know where we are, they could signal to us." "by gum!" suddenly exclaimed andy. "what's the matter?" asked jack, for the old hunter was capering about like a boy. "matter? why, the matter is that i'm a double-barrelled dunce," was the answer. "look here; do you see that?" and he held up his rifle. "sure," replied jack, wondering if their sufferings and worry had made the old hunter simple-minded. "what is it?" asked andy, shaking it in the air. "your rifle," answered mark, looking at jack in surprise. "of course," answered the hunter, "and a rifle is made to be fired off, and here i've been carrying mine for nearly three days now, and i haven't shot it once. you wanted a signal to make the folks in the projectile hear us. well, here it is i i guess they can hear this, and when they do they can come and get us, for we don't seem able to reach them. i'll just fire some signal shots." "that's the stuff!" cried jack, and andy proceeded to discharge his rifle. the report the gun made in that quiet place was tremendous, and the effect was curious, for, there being no air in the ordinary acceptance of the word, there was no echo. it was as if one had hit two shingles together. merely a loud, sharp sound, and then an utter silence, the vibrations being swallowed up instantly. "do you think they can hear that?" asked andy. "it sounds loud enough," answered jack. "shoot some more," which the old hunter did. they wandered on still farther, firing at intervals all that day, but there came no answering report or calls to direct them to the projectile. they climbed once more to the tops of towering peaks, but there they found their range of vision limited by peaks still higher, while there were great valleys, in one of which, whether near or far they could not tell, they knew, the _annihilator_ was hidden. they had almost lost track of time now, and they did not know how far they had wandered. they had sought out lonely caves to sleep in when they were so weary they could go no farther, and they had sat about on bleak rocks shivering, and had eaten their scanty meals--shivering because in spite of their fur garments they were cold, as they did not eat enough to keep their blood properly circulating. they could not when they did not have the food to eat! andy used up all but a few of his cartridges in firing signals, but to no purpose. their water was all but gone, and of their food only enough remained for a day longer, though their life-torches still gave forth plenty of vapor. "well, what's to be done?" asked jack, as they sat about, looking helplessly at one another. "might as well give up," suggested mark bitterly. "give up? not a bit of it!" cried andy, as cheerfully as he could. "let's keep on. we'll find the projectile sooner or later." so they kept on. it was while making their way between two great mountain peaks that towered above their heads on either side, thousands of feet up, making a sort of natural gateway, that jack, who was in the lead, cried out in astonishment at the sight that met his gaze when he had passed the pinnacles. "look!" he shouted, pointing forward. what he indicated was a great crater--larger and deeper than any they had yet met with. it seemed a mile across, and, if gloom and darkness were any indications, it was a hundred miles deep. but it was not the size of the great hole in the ground, not its fearful gloom, that attracted their attention. what did was a great natural or artificial bridge of stone that was thrown across the middle of it from edge to edge. a bridge of stone that spanned the abyss; a roadway, fifty feet wide, which reached into some unknown land, connecting it with the desolate country in which our friends had been wandering. "a bridge of stone across the cavern," said jack, "but see. here is a house of stone. this was the guard-house, i'll wager--the guardhouse at the entrance to some city, and that bridge is the means by which the inhabitants entered and left. maybe we are at the edge of the inhabited part of the moon!" his words thrilled them. they pressed forward to the beginning of the bridge across the crater. they looked into the stone hut. clearly it had been made by hands, for it was composed of blocks of stone, neatly fitted together. jack's theory seemed confirmed. mark peered into the house, and uttered a cry of alarm. "there's a petrified man in there!" he gasped. jack and andy looked in at the open window. they saw, sitting at a table, which was also of rock, a man, evidently a soldier, or rather he had been, for he was nothing but stone now, like the hut in which he dwelt. the wanderers looked at each other with fear on their faces. what dreadful mystery were they about to penetrate? "let's cross the bridge," suggested jack, in a low voice. "maybe this marks the end of desolation. perhaps we may find life and food across the crater." "but--but the petrified man!" gasped mark. "what of it? he won't hurt us. maybe there are live men, who will take care of us, beyond there," and jack pointed across the bridge of stone. there was nothing to keep them where they were--in the land of desolation. they could not live much longer there, with no food and water. to pass on over the crater seemed the only thing to do. "come ahead," called jack boldly. they followed him. they kept in the middle of the road, for to approach the edge, where there was a sheer descent of so many feet that it made them dizzy to think of it, filled them with terror. on they hurried until, in a short time, they had crossed the great chasm. the road over the crater came to an end between two peaks, similar to those at the beginning. jack was the first to pass them, and as he emerged he once more uttered a cry--a cry of fear and wonder. and well he might, for in a valley below the wanderers there was a city. a great city, with wonderful buildings, with wide streets well laid out--a city in which figures of many men and women could be seen--little children too! a fair city, teeming with life, it seemed! but then, as they looked again, struck by the curious quiet that prevailed, they knew that they were gazing down on a city of the dead--a city where the inhabitants had been turned to stone, even as had the soldier on guard in his lonely hut. they had come upon a petrified city of the moon! chapter xxvi seeking food "well, if this isn't the limit!" burst out jack, when he had stood and contemplated the silent city for several moments, which also his companions did. "after all our wanderings and troubles, when we do find a place, it isn't any good to us. i don't suppose there is a square meal in the whole town! isn't it wonderful, though--every person turned to stone!" "wonderful!" gasped old andy. "i never saw anything like it in all my life! what do you reckon did it, boys?" "the same thing that turned the man in the hut, and the one washington thought was a ghost, into stone," answered mark. "there was a rain of some lime-water, or a liquid charged with similar chemicals, and the people were turned to rocks." it was uncanny, and for a moment they hesitated on the edge of the city, which lay in a sort of cup-like valley, surrounded on all sides by towering peaks of the moon mountains. the bridge over which they had come afforded the only entrance to the city, and in times of war (provided the inhabitants of the moon ever fought) the passage must have been well guarded. it was evidently a time of peace when the calamity that turned the inhabitants to stone came upon them, for only one soldier was in the guard hut--doubtless being there merely to give an alarm, or possibly to keep out undesirable strangers. "well, are we going to stand here all day?" asked jack of his companions, when they had contemplated the silent city for five minutes longer. "i say, let's go down there and see what we can find. i'm getting hungry." "there'll be nothing there to eat," declared mark. "if there ever was anything, it's now stone. think of a loaf of bread like a brick, and a chunk of meat like some great rock!" "let's go down, anyhow," added andy, and they advanced. as they got down into the streets, the weird effect came over them more strongly. it was as if they had suddenly entered some large town, and at their advent every living person had been turned into an image. "wonderful, wonderful!" murmured jack. "i've read of the uncovering of the ancient buried cities, and how they found women in the kitchen baking bread, and men at their work, but this goes ahead of that, for here the people are not dust--they are statues!" "it certainly is wonderful," agreed mark. "i only wish the two professors could see this. they could write several books about it. this proves that the moon was once inhabited, though it is dead now. the projectile should have come to this part of the moon." "maybe they'll bring it here, when we get back and tell them what we've seen," suggested jack. "yes, if we ever do get back," went on his chum, with a return of his gloomy thoughts. the strangeness of the scenes all about them can scarcely be imagined. think of looking at a city street teeming with life, men and women hurrying here and there, dogs running about, children at their play, and then suddenly seeing that same street become as dead as some mountain, with the people represented as stones on that same mountain, and you can get some idea of what our friends looked upon. here was a woman, looking in a store window, probably at some bargains, though even the very window and store itself was now stone, and the woman was like a block of marble. near her was a little child, also turned to stone, and there were a number of men, standing together on a street corner as if they had been talking politics when the calamity overtook them. there were shops where the workers had been turned to stone at their benches, there were houses at the windows of which stone faces peered out, and there were parks on the benches of which sat men, women and children, stiff and solid--creatures of stone! truly it was a city of the dead! the wanderers walked about, seeing new wonders on every side. they spoke in whispers at times, as though at the sound of a loud voice the silent ones would awaken and resume the occupations or pleasures they had left off centuries ago. another strange part of it was that the people were not so very different from those of the earth. they were exactly the same in size and feature, but their clothing, as nearly as could be told from the stone garments, seemed of a bygone fashion, such as was in vogue hundreds of years ago. there were no horses observed, though there were stone dogs and cats, and the shops given over to the sale of food contained in the windows what seemed to be chunks of meat, loaves of bread, and pies and cakes, though now they were only pieces of rock. "it's just as if one of our cities and the people in it should be suddenly petrified," said mark. "it's almost like the earth up here; only they don't seem to have gotten to trolley cars yet." "maybe they would if the moon hadn't cooled off when it did, and killed them all," suggested jack. "but, i say, let's get down to something more practical than theorizing." "what, for instance?" asked mark. "looking for something to eat," went on jack. "i'm nearly starved, and i have only half a sandwich left. i want to eat it, yet, if i do, i don't know where i'm going to get more. and as for water, i'd give a handful of diamonds, if i had them, for half a glass of even warm water." "yes, we do need food and water badly," said andy. "then let's look for it," suggested jack. "if we can find food in any of these houses or shops, i don't believe the people will care if we take it." "find food here?" cried mark. "why, you must be crazy! all the food is turned to stone, and what isn't would be spoiled! why, no one has been alive here for thousands and thousands of years!" "that's nothing," asserted jack. "don't you remember reading how, in the arctic regions, they have found the bodies of prehistoric elephants and mastodons encased in blocks of ice, where they have been for centuries. the meat is perfectly preserved because of the cold. and what of the grains of wheat they find in the coffins of egyptian mummies? some of that is three thousand years old, yet it grows when they plant it, and they can make bread of it. "now, maybe we can find some wheat or something to eat in some of these houses. if there's meat, it will be perfectly preserved, for the temperature is below freezing." "that may be," admitted mark, convinced, in spite of himself, "but it's turned to stone, i tell you." "the outside part may be," said jack, "but if we can crack off the outside layer of stone we may find some good meat inside. i'm going to look, anyhow." "that's not a bad idea!" cried andy with enthusiasm. "think of having a loaf of bread and some beefsteak thousands of years old. i suppose they had beefsteak here," he added cautiously. "some kind of meat, anyhow," agreed jack. "well, let's look for a place that was once a restaurant or hotel, and we'll see what luck we have. come on." they walked along the silent streets, with their silent occupants, and finally jack found what he was seeking. it was an eating place, to judge by the appearance, and at tables inside were seated stone men and women. "back to the kitchen!" cried jack with enthusiasm. "there's where we'll find food, if there is any!" "it'll be all stone," declared mark, but he and andy followed jack. they came to the place where was what appeared to be a stove. it was more like a brick oven, however, than a modern range, though in dishes that were now stone something was being cooked when the catastrophe occurred. "there's meat, i'll wager!" cried jack, pointing to several objects on a table. they looked like chunks of beef, but when mark struck them with the end of his life-torch they gave forth a sound as if a rock had been tapped. "what did i tell you?" mark asked, "nothing but rocks. and the bread is also a stone," he added bitterly. "you're right," admitted jack, with a sigh. "and i'm getting hungrier than ever." they all were. for days they had been without sufficient food, and now, when it was almost within their reach, they were denied it by this curious trick of nature. with pale and wan faces they gazed at each other, wetting their parched lips, for they had some time since taken the last of their scant supply of water, and they were very thirsty. "i guess it's all up with us," murmured mark. "we'll soon be like these poor people here--blocks of stone." "if we only could change this meat back into it's original shape," spoke jack musingly, smiting his fist against a block of beef. suddenly andy uttered a cry. "i have it!" he fairly shouted. "what?" asked jack. "i have a plan to get meat out of this hunk of stone!" the two boys gazed at the old hunter as though they thought he had lost his reason, but, chuckling gleefully, andy took from his pouch several cartridges, and proceeded to remove the wads, and pour the powder from the paper shells out on the stone table. "i'll have some meat for us," he muttered. "we shan't starve now!" chapter xxvii the black pool "what are you going to do, andy?" asked jack, as he watched the old hunter. "what am i going to do? why, i'm going to blast out some of this meat, that's what i'm going to do! i heard you boys talking about elephants and other things being preserved for centuries in a cake of ice, and, if that's true, why won't the meat in this petrified city be preserved just as well? it's always below freezing here, and that's cold enough." "but the meat has turned to stone," objected mark. "only the outside part of it, to my thinking," answered andy. "i believe that inside these lumps of rock we'll find good, fresh meat!" "but how are you going to get it?" asked jack. "just as i told you--blast it out with some of the powder from my cartridges. i used to be a miner before i turned hunter, and when we wanted gold we used to fire a charge in some rocks. now we want meat, and i'm going to do the same thing. i'll put some powder underneath this block of stone that looks as if it was a chunk of roast beef, and we'll see what happens. it's lucky i saved some of my cartridges." while he was talking the old hunter had taken some of the powder and put it back in one of the paper shells. then, making a fuse by twisting some powder grains in a piece of paper he happened to have in his pocket, he inserted it in the improvised bomb, using some dirt and small stones with which to tamp down the charge. he discovered a crack in the big stone, which they hoped would prove to be a chunk of roast beef, and andy put the cartridge in that. "look out now, boys," he called, "i'm going to light the fuse. i didn't make a heavy charge, but it might do some damage, so we'll go outside." they hurried from the place, with its silent guests and waiters, and reached the street. a moment later there sounded a dull explosion. "now, let's see what we've got!" called jack. back to the kitchen they ran, the two boys in the lead. "why--why--the stone has disappeared!" cried jack, in disappointment, as he glanced all around. "yes, but look here," added mark. "here are bits of meat," and he picked up from the stone table some scraps of meat. "is it really roast beef?" cried jack. "good to eat?" mark smelled of it. then he put the morsel cautiously to his lips. the next instant it had disappeared. it was proof enough. "good! i should say it was good!" exclaimed mark. "i wish there was more of it! what happened to the rock of meat, andy?" "i used too heavy a charge, and it blew all to pieces. i'll know better next time. there are lots more chunks of meat, and we'll soon have a feast. i'll make another bombshell." he worked rapidly while jack sampled some of the shreds of meat that had been scattered about by the explosion. the beef was perfectly cooked, and in spite of its great age it was as fresh and palatable as frozen meat ever is. besides the heat generated by the explosion had partly thawed it, so that there was no trouble in chewing it. once more came the explosion, a slight one this time, and when the adventurers re-entered the kitchen they found that what had been a lump of stone had been broken open, and the middle part, like the kernel of a nut, was sweet and good. it was cooked, so they did not have to eat it raw. "say, maybe this isn't good!" exclaimed jack, chewing away. "it's the best ever!" "and there's enough in this city to keep us alive for months, if we can't find the projectile in that time," declared andy. "don't you think we will?" asked mark. "of course, but i was only just mentioning it. now, eat all you want, boys, i have quite a few cartridges left. i didn't fire away as many as i thought i did, and we can blast out a dinner any time we want it. so eat hearty!" they needed no second invitation, and for the first time in several days they had enough to eat. it was comfortable in the petrified restaurant, too, for they could move about without carrying their life-torches constantly in their hand. the gases from the perforated boxes filled the rooms, and were not quickly dispelled by the poisonous vapors as they were outside, so they could walk around in comparative freedom. "now, if we could only blast out a loaf of bread, we'd be all right," said jack. they found some petrified loaves, but on breaking one open it was found to be stone all the way through. spurred on by an overwhelming thirst, they wandered about the dead city, but found no moisture. they tried to chew some of the pale green vegetation that grew more plentiful on this side of the moon, but it was exceedingly bitter, and they could not stand it, though there was some juice in it. they crossed the city, and wandered out into the country beyond. it appeared to have been a fertile land before the stone death settled down on it. they saw farmers in the fields, turned into images, beside the oxen with which they had been plowing. but nowhere was there a sign of water. had it not been for a frozen rice pudding, they would have perished that first day in the stone city. as it was, they dragged out a miserable existence, eating from time to time of the blasted meat. but even this palled on them after a while, for their lips were parched and cracked, and their tongues were swollen in their mouths. "i can't stand this any longer!" cried jack. "what are you going to do?" asked mark. "go out and look for water. there must be some in the country outside if there isn't any in this city. i'm going to have a look. besides, if i'm going to die, i might as well die while i'm busy. i'm not going to sit here in this dreadful place and give up." his words urged them to follow him, and, with lagging steps, for they were weak and faint, they went from the restaurant, which they had made their home since coming to the petrified city. out into the open fields they went, but their search seemed likely to be in vain. between times of looking for the water they scanned the sky for a sight of the projectile, which, hoping against hope, they thought they might see hovering over them. but there was no sight of it. they came to a vast, level plain, girt with mountains, a lonesome place, where there was no sign of life. listlessly they walked over it. suddenly andy, who was in the lead, uttered a cry and sprang forward. the boys ran to him, and found the old hunter gazing into the depths of a great black pool, which filled a depression in the surface of the moon. it was a small crater, and was filled, nearly to the top, with some black liquid, which gloomily reflected back the light of the sun. "i'm going to have a drink!" cried andy, and before the boys could stop him he threw himself face downward at the edge of the black pool. chapter xxviii the signal fails "stop! don't drink that! it may be poison!" yelled jack. "pull him back!" shouted mark, and together they advanced on the old hunter. they tried to drag him away from the black pool, but andy shook them off. "let--me--alone!" he gasped, as he bent over the uninviting liquid and drank deeply. "it's water, i tell you--good water--and i'm almost--dead--from--thirst!" "water? is that water?" cried jack. "well, it's the nearest thing to it that i've tasted since i've been lost on the moon," spoke andy, as he slowly arose. "my, but that was good!" he added fervently. "but--water?" gasped mark. "how can there be water here?" "taste and see," invited the old hunter. they hesitated a moment, and then followed his example. the liquid--water it evidently had once been--had a peculiar taste, but it was not bad. by some curious chemical action, which they never understood, the liquid had been prevented from evaporating, nor was it frozen or petrified as was everything else on the moon. what gave the liquid its peculiar black color they could not learn. sufficient for them that it was capable of quenching their thirst, and they all drank deeply and refilled their bottles. "now, i feel like eating again," spoke andy, "we can take some of this back with us, and have a good meal on blasted meat. whenever we get thirsty we'll have to make a trip back here for water." the boys agreed with him. they examined the black pool. it appeared to be filled by hidden springs, though there was no bubbling, and the surface was as unruffled as a mirror. the liquid was not very inviting, being as black as ink, but the color appeared to be a sort of reflection, for when the water, if such it was, had been put into bottles it at once became clear, nor did it stain their faces or hands. "well, it's another queer thing in this queer moon," said jack. "i wish the two professors could see this place. they'd have lots to write about." "i wonder if we'll ever see them again?" asked mark. "sure," replied jack hopefully. "we'll fill our lunch baskets, take a lot of water along, and have another hunt for the projectile soon." they did, but with no success. for several days more they lived in the petrified city, the meat encased in its block of stone, which andy blasted from time to time, and the black water keeping them alive. from time to time they went out in the surrounding country, looking for the projectile. but they could not find the place where they had left it, nor could they find even the place where they had picked up the lost tool that had cost them so much suffering. they were more completely lost than ever. they crossed back and forth on the bridge over the crater chasm, and penetrated for many miles in a radius from that, marking their way by chipping off pieces of the rocky pinnacles, as they did not want to leave the petrified city behind. from some peaks they caught glimpses of other towns that had fallen under the strange spell of the petrification. some were larger and some smaller than the one they called "home." jack proposed visiting some of them, thinking they might find better food, but mark and andy decided it was best to stay where they were, as they were nearer the supposed location of the projectile. "i think they'll manage to fix it up somehow, so it will move," said andy, "and then they'll come to look for us. i hope it will be soon, though." "why?" asked jack, struck by something in the tone of the old hunter. "because," replied andy, "i am afraid our life-torches won't last much longer. mine seems to be weakening. i have to hold it very close to my face now to breathe in comfort, while at first the oxygen from it was so strong that i could hold it two feet off and never notice the poisonous moon vapors." this was a new danger, and, thinking of it, the faces of the boys became graver than ever. death seemed bound to get them somehow. two more days went by. they had now been lost on the moon over a week. each one now noticed that his life-torch was weakening. how much longer would they last? they dared not answer that question. they could only hope. the sun, too, was moving away from them. soon the long night would set in. by mark's computation there was only three more days of daylight left. what would happen in the desolate darkness? as they were returning from the black pool, with their water bottles filled, and put inside the fur bags to prevent the frost from reaching them, mark happened to gaze over across a line of towering peaks. what he saw caused him to gasp in astonishment. "jack! andy! see!" he whispered hoarsely, pointing a trembling finger at the sky. there, outlined against the cloudless heavens, was a long, black shape, floating through the air about two miles distant. "the projectile! the _annihilator!_" yelled jack. "shout! call to them! wave your hands! andy, fire your gun! they have started off, and they can't see us. we must make them hear!" together they raised their voices in a mighty shout. the old hunter fired his gun several times. they waved their hands frantically. but the projectile never swerved from its course. on it moved slowly, those in it paying no heed to the wanderers, for they did not hear them. andy fired his gun again, but the signal failed, and a few minutes later the _annihilator_ was lost to sight behind a great peak. chapter xxix the field of diamonds dumbly the wanderers gazed at each other. they could not comprehend it at first. that the projectile, on which their very lives depended in this dead world of the moon, should float away and leave them seemed incredible. yet they had witnessed it. "do--do you really think we saw it--saw the _annihilator_, mark?" asked jack in a low voice, after several minutes had passed. "saw it? of course, we saw it. we've seen the last of it, i'm afraid. but what do you mean?" "i--i thought maybe i was out of my head, and i only saw a vision," answered jack. "you know--a sort of mirage. it was real, then?" "altogether too real," spoke andy sudds grimly. "they didn't see us nor hear us. we're left behind!" "but can't we do something?" demanded mark. "let's start off and try to catch them. they were going slow." "the wonder to me is how they moved at all," said jack. "i thought the machinery wouldn't work until we got back with the lost tool." "probably the two professors found some way of patching up the motor," was mark's opinion, and later they found that this was so. for some time they remained staring in the direction in which the projectile had vanished, as if they might see it reappear, but the great steel shell did not poke its sharp nose in among the towering peaks which hid it from view. probably it was many miles away now. "well," remarked old andy at length, "we've got to make the best of it. we won't have many more days of light, and we must gather what food we can, put it where we can find it in the dark, and also bring in some water from the black pool. we can store that in some of the stone tables. by turning them upside down they will make good troughs, and it won't freeze. we must work while we have light, for soon the long night will come." the sight of the projectile going away seemed to take the heart out of all of them, and they did not know what to do. for some time they remained there idly, until andy roused the boys to a sense of their responsibility by urging upon them the necessity of getting together a store of meat and water. as they had about exhausted the limited food supply in the ancient restaurant, they sought and found another and larger one. there they had the good fortune to come upon some whole sides of beef and lamb, which were petrified on the outside, but which, when they had blasted off the outer shell of stone, gave them good food. they made several trips to the black pool, and brought in all the liquid they could, for they did not want to have to go outside the petrified city into the wild and desolate country beyond, after the dismal night had settled down. they feared they would become lost again. their lonely situation seemed to grow upon them. the appalling silence all about terrified them. the weird sight of the petrified men and women in the petrified city got on their nerves. they had done all they could. a store of meat had been blasted out and put away. it would keep outside of the stone shell now, for the weather was getting colder with the advent of the long night. this fact worried them. with the temperature at twenty-eight when the sun was shining, what might it not fall to in the darkness? the terrible cold of the arctic regions might be nothing compared to the frostiness of the dead moon in the shadow. their fur garments, thick as they were, might be no more protection than so much paper. and they had no means of making a fire, nor anything to burn on one had they been capable of kindling it, for andy had used the last of his cartridges to blast with, and where everything was petrified there was no wood. then, too, their life-torches were giving out. the emanations of oxygen were weaker, and they had to hold them almost under their noses to breathe the vital vapor. one day, or rather what corresponded to a day, for they had lost all track of time, andy sudds arose from the stone bench on which their meager meal had been served. he started from the restaurant where they had taken up their abode. "where are you going?" asked jack. "i'm going to make one last attempt to find the projectile before it gets too dark," answered the hunter. "we can go out, look around for several hours, and get back before darkness sets in. we might as well do it as sit here doing nothing. then, too, we can bring in some more water. we'll need all we can store away." "i'll go with you," volunteered jack, and mark, not wanting to be left alone in the dead city, followed. carrying their life-torches and wrapping their fur garments closely about them, for it had grown much colder, they sallied forth. they found a thin film of ice on the black pool, showing that it would probably freeze when it got cold enough, though the ordinary temperature of thirty-two degrees had not affected it. they filled their water bottles, and then andy proposed that they take a new path--one they had not tried before. they hardly knew where they were going, but ever as they tramped on they cast anxious looks upward to see if they might descry the projectile hovering over them. but they did not see it. jack had taken the lead, and was walking along, glancing idly about. he came to a place where two peaks were so close together that it was all he could do to squeeze through. but the moment he had passed the defile and looked out on a broad, level field, he came to a sudden stop. his companions, who pressed after him, saw him rub his eyes and shake his head, as if disbelieving the evidence of what lay before him. then jack murmured: "it can't be true! it can't be true!" "what?" called mark. "there! those," answered his chum. "see, the field is covered with diamonds! we have found the diamonds of the moon--the field of reonaris that the men of mars discovered! there are the diamonds--millions of them!" "diamonds!" exclaimed mark. he squeezed through the defile, and stood beside jack. before him in the fading light of the sun was a broad field, girt around with towering cliffs, and the surface of the field was covered with white stones. jack sprang forward and gathered up a double handful. he let them run through his fingers in a sparkling stream. old andy came up to the boys. "they're only glass or crystals," he said. "they are _not_ glass or crystals!" declared mark, who had made a study of gems. "i should say they were diamonds, probably meteoric diamonds, very rare and valuable. why, there is the ransom of a thousand kings spread out before us!" he fell upon his knees and began to scoop up the gems. his chum was making a little heap of the stones. "the ransom of a thousand kings!" murmured jack. "more diamonds than in all the world--and i'd give my share for a good ham sandwich!" chapter xxx back to earth--conclusion at any other time the discovery of such a vast store of wealth would have set the wanderers half wild with joy. now they only accepted the fact dully, for the perils of their situation overburdened them. as jack had said, they needed food more than the gems, for at best the supply they had blasted out could not last long, and when that was gone where were they to get more, for there were no more cartridges, and the rending force of powder was needed to open the rocky meat. "i knew we'd find the diamonds," murmured jack, as he began to fill the pockets of his fur coat. "i'm right, after all, mark, you see." "yes, but what good will it do us? what's the good of even carrying any away. we can never use them." "that's so," agreed jack, in a low voice. "i might as well leave them here." but somehow the desire to pick up gems which, when they were cut and polished, would rival many of the famous diamonds of history was too strong to be resisted. though he was afraid he would never get back to earth to enjoy them, jack could not help putting in his pockets a goodly supply of the largest of the precious stones. andy did the same, and mark, in spite of his gloomy feelings, stuffed his pockets. they worked with their torches held close to their faces, and in the search for the better stones they literally walked over millions of dollars' worth of the gems. for there, stretched out before them, was an actual field of diamonds. as mark had said, they were of meteoric origin, that is, a meteor had burst over that particular portion of the moon, and the chemical action had created the diamonds, which had fallen in a shower in the field. "if you boys have all you want, then let's get back to the city," suggested andy. "no telling when it will be night now." they followed his advice, and soon were going back by way of the black pool. it seemed more lonesome than ever, after the excitement of discovering the field of diamonds, and even jack, glad as he was to have his theory vindicated, got tired of referring to it. his triumph meant little to him now. they were at the entrance to the petrified city. as they were about to go in, ready to hide themselves in the deepest part of the restaurant, away from the terrible cold and appalling darkness they felt would soon be upon them, mark came to a sudden halt. he glanced quickly up into the air and cried out: "hark!" "what's the matter?" asked jack, as they stood in a listening attitude. "i heard a noise," whispered mark. "it sounded--i'm sure it sounded--like the crackling of the wireless motor waves of the projectile. listen!" faintly through the silence came a sound as if there was a discharge of an electric current. it increased in volume, and there was a faint roaring in the atmosphere. "it's her--it's the _annihilator!_" shouted jack, leaping about. "wait," counselled andy, who dreaded the terrible disappointment should the boys be mistaken. the sound came nearer. the crackling could plainly be made out now. the sun was out of sight, but there was still the glow which follows sunset. the boys were eagerly scanning the heavens, their hearts beat high with hope. suddenly, in the olive-tinted sky just above a range of rugged peaks, a black shape loomed. a black shape, as of a great cigar, pointed at both ends. it shot into full view. "the projectile!" yelled jack. "the _annihilator!_" gasped mark. "thank heaven, they have found us in time!" exclaimed andy fervently, and the three stretched out their arms toward the craft from which they had been parted so long. it was as if they tried to pull it down to them. "do they see us?" "will they pass us by?" "make a noise so they'll hear us!" "wave to them!" "oh, if they leave us now!" questions, ejaculations and entreaties came rapidly from the lips of the wanderers. they raised their voices in a shout. they leaped up and down. they wildly waved their hands and life-torches. then, to their inexpressible joy, they saw the course of the projectile change. it was headed toward them, and a few minutes later it settled slowly to the ground about half a mile away. "come on!" cried jack! "we must hurry to them, or soon it will be too dark to see them, or for them to find us. it's our last chance; don't let's lose it!" he sprang forward, the others after him, and together they ran toward the projectile. they could see the two professors and washington white emerging from the steel car, waving their hands. on rushed the lost wanderers, over the rough stones, skirting the great cliffs, falling into small craters, crawling out again, just missing several times being precipitated into yawning caverns, and stumbling over petrified bodies that strewed the ground. ever did they hasten onward though, increasing their speed. they came to a great crater that lay between them and the projectile, but fortunately there was across the middle of it a natural bridge of stone. but it was narrow--scarcely wide enough for one at a time. "we can never cross on that!" cried mark, halting. "we've got to!" shouted jack, and he sprang fearlessly forward, fairly running over the narrow path, which had a sheer descent of thousands of feet on either side. mark, though fearful that he would become dizzy and fall, followed andy. they were soon across the narrow bridge, and speeding on toward the _annihilator_. five minutes later they had reached it, and were being wildly welcomed by the two professors and washington white, who had advanced to meet them. "i 'clar t' goodness-gladness!" exclaimed the colored man, "i am suttinly constrained t' espress my approbation ob de deleterous manner in which yo' all has come back t' dis continuous territory." "do you mean you're glad to see us, wash?" asked jack. "dat's what i done said," was the answer, with a cheerful grin, "an' i might also remark dat dinner am serbed in de dinin' car." "hurrah!" cried jack. "that's the best news i've heard in a week. no more blasted beef for mine! give me ham and eggs!" "but what happened to you? where have you been? we have searched all over for you, and were just giving you up for dead, and going back to the earth," said professor henderson. "we caught sight of you at the last minute." "oh, you mustn't go back until you go to the field of diamonds!" cried jack, and then by turns he and mark and andy told of their terrible adventures while they were lost on the moon. on their part professors roumann and henderson stated how they had waited in vain for the return of the wanderers, and had then, by strenuous work, managed to make the necessary repairs without the missing tool. then they set out to discover the lost ones, but succeeded only just in time, for it was now quite dusk. "an' did yo' all really discober dem sparklers?" asked washington, as he served what the boys thought was the finest dinner they had ever tasted. "we sure did," replied jack. "here are a couple for that red necktie of yours," and he passed over two big diamonds. it did not take long to move the projectile to the field of the sparkling gems, and by means of a powerful search-light enough were soon gathered up to satisfy even washington white, who declared that he would be the best decorated colored man in bayside when they got back. the two professors made what observations they could in the petrified city in the fast-gathering darkness, and then, having taken a petrified man into the projectile with them to deposit in a scientific museum in which professor roumann was interested, the _annihilator_ was sealed shut. and it was only just in time, for with the suddenness of an eclipse intense darkness settled down, and the temperature, as indicated by a thermometer thrust outside, showed a drop of a hundred degrees. "we never could have lived out there," said jack. "well, we'll soon be back on earth," observed mark, and a little later the cardite motor was out in operation, and the journey back to this world begun. little of moment happened on the return trip. the boys went more into detail about their wanderings, and told how they had managed to live during the time they were lost. the two professors and washington spoke of their worry and anxiety, and their vain search for the wanderers. as they were anxious to get back home, the motor was speeded to the limit, and in much less time than they had made the trip to the moon they had arrived in sight of the earth again. as they did not want to create too much excitement, they hovered about in the air over bayside until dark, when they gently descended almost in the very spot from which they had started. "well," remarked jack, as he stepped out on the earth once more, "it was quite an experience to go to the moon, and i suppose being lost there wasn't the worst thing that could happen to us, but all the same i'm glad to be back." "so am i," declared mark. "it was worth while going," and he felt of his pocketful of diamonds. "we certainly made some very valuable scientific observations," asserted mr. henderson, "and we will be able to prove that the moon was once inhabited." washington white was carefully lifting out his shanghai rooster, which was uttering loud crows. as soon as he had set the fowl on the ground, the colored man started off. "where are you going?" asked mark. "i'm going t' a jewelery shop t' hab my diamonds made inter a stick-pin fo' my red necktie," was the answer. "oh, you'd better wait until morning," suggested professor henderson. they gathered about the table in the cozy dining room of their home, while washington got a meal ready. every one was talking about what a wonderful trip they had had. "the only trouble is," said jack, "that we've been to about all the interesting places in this universe now. i wonder where we can go next?" "i'm going to bed right after supper," announced mark. "maybe i'll discover a new land in my dreams." the moon voyagers had a great store of gems, and, as they did not wish to bring down values by disposing of them, they only sold a few, which, because of their great size and brilliancy, brought a large price. several jewelers wanted to know where the diamonds came from, but the secret was well kept. most of the gems were used for scientific purposes, but mark and jack gave some to certain of their friends. the petrified man proved a great curiosity, and a history of it, in two large volumes, can be seen in the museum where the body is exhibited. professor henderson wrote the account, and also published quite an extensive history of the trip to the moon, which was considered by scientists and laymen to be a most remarkable journey. but, though our friends had been to many strange places, it was reserved for them to have yet still more wonderful adventures, though for a time after returning from the moon they remained at home, the two professors busy over their scientific work, and the boys engaged with their studies, while andy occasionally went hunting, and washington got the meals and, between times, fed his rooster and admired the diamonds in his red necktie. and now we will bid our friends good-by. the end first on the moon by jeff sutton ace books, inc. 1120 avenue of the americas new york 36, n.y. first on the moon copyright ©, 1958, by ace books, inc. all rights reserved printed in u. s. a. to sandy suicide race to luna the four men had been scrutinized, watched, investigated, and intensively trained for more than a year. they were the best men to be found for that first, all-important flight to the moon--the pioneer manned rocket that would give either the east or the west control over the earth. yet when the race started, adam crag found that he had a saboteur among his crew ... a traitor! such a man could give the reds possession of luna, and thereby dominate the world it circled. any one of the other three could be the hidden enemy, and if he didn't discover the agent soon--even while they were roaring on rocket jets through outer space--then adam crag, his expedition, and his country would be destroyed! prologue one of the rockets was silver; three were ashen gray. each nested in a different spot on the great western desert. all were long, tapered, sisters except for color. in a way they represented the first, and last, of an era, with exotic propellants, a high mass ratio and three-stage design. yet they were not quite alike. one of the sisters had within her the artifacts the human kind needed for life--a space cabin high in the nose. the remaining sisters were drones, beasts of burden, but beasts which carried scant payloads considering their bulk. one thing they had in common--destination. they rested on their launch pads, with scaffolds almost cleared, heads high and proud. soon they would flash skyward, one by one, seeking a relatively small haven on a strange bleak world. the world was the moon; the bleak place was called arzachel, a crater--stark, alien, with tall cliffs brooding over an ashy plain. out on the west coast a successor to the sisters was shaping up--a great ship of a new age, with nuclear drive and a single stage. but the sisters could not wait for their successor. time was running out. chapter i the room was like a prison--at least to adam crag. it was a square with a narrow bunk, a battered desk, two straight-back chairs and little else. its one small window overlooked the myriad quonsets and buildings of burning sands base from the second floor of a nearly empty dormitory. there was a sentry at the front of the building, another at the rear. silent alert men who never spoke to crag--seldom acknowledged his movements to and from the building--yet never let a stranger approach the weathered dorm without sharp challenge. night and day they were there. from his window he could see the distant launch site and, by night, the batteries of floodlights illumining the metal monster on the pad. but now he wasn't thinking of the rocket. he was fretting; fuming because of a call from colonel michael gotch. "don't stir from the room," gotch had crisply ordered on the phone. he had hung up without explanation. that had been two hours before. crag had finished dressing--he had a date--idly wondering what was in the colonel's mind. the fretting had only set in when, after more than an hour, gotch had failed to show. greg's liberty had been restricted to one night a month. one measly night, he thought. now he was wasting it, tossing away the precious hours. waiting. waiting for what? "i'm a slave," he told himself viciously; "slave to a damned bird colonel." his date wouldn't wait--wasn't the waiting kind. but he couldn't leave. he stopped pacing long enough to look at himself in the cracked mirror above his desk. the face that stared back was lean, hard, unlined--skin that told of wind and sun, not brown nor bronze but more of a mahogany red. just now the face was frowning. the eyes were wide-spaced, hazel, the nose arrogant and hawkish. a thin white scar ran over one cheek ending. his mind registered movement behind him. he swiveled around, flexing his body, balanced on his toes, then relaxed, slightly mortified. gotch--colonel michael gotch--stood just inside the door eyeing him tolerantly. a flush crept over crag's face. damn gotch and his velvet feet, he thought. but he kept the thought concealed. the expression on gotch's face was replaced by a wooden mask. he studied the lean man by the mirror for a moment, then flipped his cap on the bed and sat down without switching his eyes. he said succinctly. "you're it." "i've got it?" crag gave an audible sigh of relief. gotch nodded without speaking. "what about temple?" "killed last night--flattened by a truck that came over the center-line. on an almost deserted highway just outside the base," gotch added. he spoke casually but his eyes were not casual. they were unfathomable black pools. opaque and hard. crag wrinkled his brow inquiringly. "accident?" "you know better than that. the truck was hot, a semi with bum plates, and no driver when the cops got there." his voice turned harsh. "no ... it was no accident." "i'm sorry," crag said quietly. he hadn't known temple personally. he had been just a name--a whispered name. one of three names, to be exact: romer, temple, crag. each had been hand-picked as possible pilots of the aztec, a modified missile being rushed to completion in a last ditch effort to beat the eastern world in the race for the moon. they had been separately indoctrinated, tested, trained; each had virtually lived in one of the scale-size simulators of the aztec's space cabin, and had been rigorously schooled for the operation secretly referred to as "step one." but they had been kept carefully apart. there had been a time when no one--unless it were the grim-faced gotch--knew which of the three was first choice. romer had died first--killed as a bystander in a brawl. so the police said. crag had suspected differently. now temple. the choice, after all, had not been the swarthy colonel's to make. somehow the knowledge pleased him. gotch interrupted his thoughts. "things are happening. the chips are down. time has run out, adam." while he clipped the words out he weighed crag, as if seeking some clue to his thoughts. his face said that everything now depended upon the lean man with the hairline scar across his cheek. his eyes momentarily wondered if the lean man could perform what man never before had done. but his lips didn't voice the doubt. after a moment he said: "we know the east is behind us in developing an atomic spaceship. quite a bit behind. we picked up a lot from some of our atomic sub work--that and our big missiles. but maybe the knowledge made us lax." he added stridently: "now ... they're ready to launch." "now?" "now!" "i didn't think they were that close." "intelligence tells us they've modified a couple of t-3's--the big icbm model. we just got a line on it ... almost too late." gotch smiled bleakly. "so we've jumped our schedule, at great risk. it's your baby," he added. crag said simply; "i'm glad of the chance." "you should be. you've hung around long enough," gotch said dryly. his eyes probed crag. "i only hope you've learned enough ... are ready." "plenty ready," snapped crag. "i hope so." gotch got to his feet, a square fiftyish man with cropped iron-gray hair, thick shoulders and weather-roughened skin. clearly he wasn't a desk colonel. "you've got a job, adam." his voice was unexpectedly soft but he continued to weigh crag for a long moment before he picked up his cap and turned toward the door. "wait," he said. he paused, listening for a moment before he opened it, then slipped quietly into the hall, closing the door carefully behind him. he's like a cat, crag thought for the thousandth time, watching the closed door. he was a man who seemed forever listening; a heavy hulking man who walked on velvet feet; a man with opaque eyes who saw everything and told nothing. gotch would return. despite the fact the grizzled colonel had been his mentor for over a year he felt he hardly knew the man. he was high up in the missile program--missile security, crag had supposed--yet he seemed to hold power far greater than that of a security officer. he seemed, in fact, to have full charge of the aztec project--step one--even though dr. kenneth walmsbelt was its official director. the difference was, the nation knew walmsbelt. he talked with congressmen, pleaded for money, carried his program to the newspapers and was a familiar figure on the country's tv screens. he was the leading exponent of the space-can't-wait philosophy. but few people knew gotch; and fewer yet his connections. he was capable, competent, and to crag's way of thinking, a tough monkey, which pretty well summarized his knowledge of the man. he felt the elation welling inside him, growing until it was almost a painful pleasure. it had been born of months and months of hope, over a year during which he had scarcely dared hope. now, because a man had died.... he sat looking at the ceiling, thinking, trying to still the inner tumult. only outwardly was he calm. he heard footsteps returning. gotch opened the door and entered, followed by a second man. crag started involuntarily, half-rising from his chair. he was looking at himself! "crag, meet adam crag." the colonel's voice and face were expressionless. crag extended his hand, feeling a little silly. "glad to know you." the newcomer acknowledged the introduction with a grin--the same kind of lopsided grin the real crag wore. more startling was the selfsame hairline scar traversing his cheek; the same touch of cockiness in the set of his face. gotch said, "i just wanted you to get a good look at yourself. crag here"--he motioned his hand toward the newcomer--"is your official double. what were you planning for tonight, your last night on earth?" "i have a date with ann. or had," he added sourly. he twisted his head toward gotch as the colonel's words sunk home. "last night?" gotch disregarded the question. "for what?" "supper and dancing at the blue door." "then?" "take her home, if it's any of your damned business," snapped crag. "i wasn't planning on staying, if that's what you mean." "i know ... i know, we have you on a chart," gotch said amiably. "we know every move you've made since you wet your first diapers. like that curvy little brunette secretary out in san diego, or that blonde night club warbler you were rushing in las vegas." crag flushed. the colonel eyed him tolerantly. "and plenty more," he added. he glanced at crag's double. "i'm sure your twin will be happy to fill in for you tonight." "like hell he will," gritted crag. the room was quiet for a moment. "as i said, he'll fill in for you." crag grinned crookedly. "ann won't go for it. she's used to the real article." "we're not giving her a chance to snafu the works," gotch said grimly. "she's in protective custody. we have a double for her, too." "mind explaining?" "not a bit. let's face the facts and admit both romer and temple were murdered. that leaves only you. the enemy isn't about to let us get the aztec into space. you're the only pilot left who's been trained for the big jump--the only man with the specialized know-how. that's why you're on someone's list. perhaps, even, someone here at the base ... or on the highway ... or in town. i don't know when or how but i do know this: you're a marked monkey." gotch added flatly: "i don't propose to let you get murdered." "how about him?" crag nodded toward his double. the man smiled faintly. "that's what he's paid for," gotch said unfeelingly. his lips curled sardonically. "all the heroes aren't in space." crag flushed. gotch had a way of making him uncomfortable as no other man ever had. the gentle needle. but it was true. the aztec was his baby. gotch's role was to see that he lived long enough to get it into space. the rest was up to him. something about the situation struck him as humorous. he looked at his double with a wry grin. "home and to bed early," he cautioned. "don't forget you've got my reputation to uphold." "go to hell," his double said amiably. "okay, let's get down to business," gotch growled. "i've got a little to say." * * * * * long after they left crag stood at the small window, looking out over the desert. somewhere out there was the aztec, a silver arrow crouched in its cradle, its nose pointed toward the stars. he drew the picture in his mind. she stood on her tail fins; a six-story-tall needle braced by metal catwalks and guard rails; a cousin twice-removed to the great nuclear weapons which guarded fortress america. he had seen her at night, under the batteries of floor lights, agleam with a milky radiance; a virgin looking skyward, which, in fact, she was. midway along her length her diameter tapered abruptly, tapered again beyond the three-quarters point. her nose looked slender compared with her body, yet it contained a space cabin with all the panoply needed to sustain life beyond the atmosphere. his thoughts were reverent, if not loving. save for occasional too-brief intervals with ann, the ship had dominated his life for over a year. he knew her more intimately, he thought, than a long-married man knows his wife. he had never ceased to marvel at the aztec's complexity. everything about the rocket spoke of the future. she was clearly designed to perform in a time not yet come, at a place not yet known. she would fly, watching the stars, continuously measuring the angle between them, computing her way through the abyss of space. like a woman she would understand the deep currents within her, the introspective sensing of every force which had an effect upon her life. she would measure gravitation, acceleration and angular velocity with infinite precision. she would count these as units of time, perform complex mathematical equations, translate them into course data, and find her way unerringly across the purple-black night which separated her from her assignation with destiny. she would move with the certainty of a woman fleeing to her lover. yes, he thought, he would put his life in the lady's hands. he would ride with her on swift wings. but he would be her master. * * * * * his mood changed. he turned from the window thinking it was a hell of a way to spend his last night. last night on earth, he corrected wryly. he couldn't leave the room, couldn't budge, didn't know where ann was. no telephone. he went to bed wondering how he'd ever let himself get snookered into the deal. here he was, young, with a zest for life and a stacked-up gal on the string. and what was he doing about it? going to the moon, that's what. going to some damned hell-hole called arzachel, all because a smooth bird colonel had pitched him a few soft words. sucker! his lips twisted in a crooked grin. gotch had seduced him by describing his mission as an "out-of-this-world opportunity." those had been gotch's words. well, that was arzachel. and pretty quick it would be adam crag. out-of-this-world crag. just now the thought wasn't so appealing. * * * * * sleep didn't come easy. at gotch's orders he had turned in early, at the unheard hour of seven. getting to sleep was another matter. it's strange, he thought, he didn't have any of the feelings doc weldon, the psychiatrist, had warned him of. he wasn't nervous, wasn't afraid. yet before another sun had set he'd be driving the aztec up from earth, into the loneliness of space, to a bleak crater named arzachel. he would face the dangers of intense cosmic radiation, chance meteor swarms, and human errors in calculation which could spell disaster. it would be the first step in the world race for control of the solar system--a crucial race with the small nations of the world watching for the winner. watching and waiting to see which way to lean. he was already cut off from mankind, imprisoned in a small room with the momentous zero hour drawing steadily nearer. strange, he thought, there had been a time when his career had seemed ended, washed up, finished, the magic of the stratosphere behind him for good. sure, he'd resigned from the air force at his own free will, even if his c. o. had made the pointed suggestion. because he hadn't blindly followed orders. because he'd believed in making his own decisions when the chips were down. "lack of _esprit de corps_," his c. o. had termed it. he'd been surprised that night--it was over a year ago now--that colonel gotch had contacted him. (just when he was wondering where he might get a job. he hadn't liked the prosaic prospects of pushing passengers around the country in some jet job.) sure, he'd jumped at the offer. but the question had never left his mind. _why had gotch selected him?_ the aztec, a silver needle plunging through space followed by her drones, all in his tender care. he was planning the step-by-step procedure of take-off when sleep came. chapter 2 crag woke with a start, sensing he was not alone. the sound came again--a key being fitted into a lock. he started from bed as the door swung open. "easy. it's me--gotch." crag relaxed. a square solid figure took form. "don't turn on the light." "okay. what gives?" "one moment." gotch turned back toward the door and beckoned. another figure glided into the room--a shadow in the dim light. crag caught the glint of a uniform. air force officer, he thought. gotch said crisply; "out of bed." he climbed out, standing alongside the bed in his shorts, wondering at the colonel's cloak-and-dagger approach. "okay, major, it's your turn," gotch said. the newcomer--crag saw he was a major--methodically stripped down to his shorts and got into bed without a word. crag grinned, wondering how the major liked his part in step one. it was scarcely a lead role. gotch cut into his thoughts. "get dressed." he indicated the major's uniform. crag donned the garments silently. when he had finished the colonel walked around him in the dark, studying him from all angles. "seems to fit very well," he said finally. "all right, let's go." crag followed him from the room wondering what the unknown major must be thinking. he wanted to ask about his double but refrained. long ago he had learned there was a time to talk, and a time to keep quiet. this was the quiet time. at the outer door four soldiers sprang from the darkness and boxed them in. a chauffeur jumped from a waiting car and opened the rear door. at the last moment crag stepped aside and made a mock bow. "after you, colonel." his voice held a touch of sarcasm. gotch grunted and climbed into the rear seat and he followed. the chauffeur blinked his lights twice before starting the engine. somewhere ahead a car pulled away from the curb. they followed, leaving the four soldiers behind. crag twisted his body and looked curiously out the rear window. another car dogged their wake. precautions, always precautions, he thought. gotch had entered with an air force officer and had ostensibly left with one; ergo, it must be the same officer. he chuckled, thinking he had more doubles than a movie star. they sped through the night with the escorts fore and aft. gotch was a silent hulking form on the seat beside him. it's his zero hour, too, crag thought. the colonel had tossed the dice. now he was waiting for their fall, with his career in the pot. after a while gotch said conversationally: "you'll report in at albrook, major. i imagine you'll be getting in a bit of flying from here on out." talking for the chauffeur's benefit, crag thought. good lord, did every move have to be cloak and dagger? aloud he said: "be good to get back in the air again. perhaps anti-sub patrol, eh?" "very likely." they fell silent again. the car skimmed west on highway 80, leaving the silver rocket farther behind with every mile. where to and what next? he gave up trying to figure the colonel's strategy. one thing he was sure of. the hard-faced man next to him knew exactly what he was doing. if it was secret agent stuff, then that's the way it had to be played. * * * * * he leaned back and thought of the task ahead--the rocket he had lived with for over a year. now the marriage would be consummated. every detail of the aztec was vivid in his mind. like the three great motors tucked triangularly between her tail fins, each a tank equipped with a flaring nozzle to feed in hot gases under pressure. he pictured the fuel tanks just forward of the engines; the way the fuels were mixed, vaporized, forced into the fireports where they would ignite and react explosively, generating the enormous volumes of flaming hot gas to drive out through the jet tubes and provide the tremendous thrust needed to boost her into the skies. between the engines and fuel tanks was a maze of machinery--fuel lines, speed controllers, electric motors. he let his mind rove over the rocket thinking that before many hours had passed he would need every morsel of the knowledge he had so carefully gathered. midway where the hull tapered was a joint, the separation point between the first and second stages. the second stage had one engine fed by two tanks. the exterior of the second stage was smooth, finless, for it was designed to operate at the fringe of space where the air molecules were widely spaced; but it could be steered by small deflectors mounted in its blast stream. the third stage was little more than a space cabin riding between the tapered nose cone and a single relatively low-thrust engine. between the engine and tanks was a maze of turbines, pumps, meters, motors, wires. a generator provided electricity for the ship's electric and electronic equipment; this in turn was spun by a turbine driven by the explosive decomposition of hydrogen peroxide. forward of this was the brain, a complex guidance mechanism which monitored engine performance, kept track of speed, computed course. all that was needed was the human hand. his hand. * * * * * they traveled several hours with only occasional words, purring across the flat sandy wastes at a steady seventy. the cars boxing them in kept at a steady distance. crag watched the yellow headlights sweep across the sage lining the highway, giving an odd illusion of movement. light and shadow danced in eerie patterns. the chauffeur turned onto a two-lane road heading north. alpine base, crag thought. he had been stationed there several years before. now it was reputed to be the launch site of one of the three drones slated to cross the gulfs of space. the chauffeur drove past a housing area and turned in the direction he knew the strip to be. * * * * * somewhere in the darkness ahead a drone brooded on its pad, one of the children of the silver missile they'd left behind. but why the drone? the question bothered him. they were stopped several times in the next half mile. each time gotch gave his name and rank and extended his credentials. each time they were waved on by silent sharp-eyed sentries, but only after an exacting scrutiny. crag was groping for answers when the chauffeur pulled to one side of the road and stopped. he leaped out and opened the rear door, standing silently to one side. when they emerged, he got back into the car and drove away. no word had been spoken. figures moved toward them, coming out of the blackness. "stand where you are and be recognized." the figures took shape--soldiers with leveled rifles. they stood very still until one wearing a captain's bars approached, flashing a light in their faces. "identity?" crag's companion extended his credentials. "colonel michael gotch," he monotoned. the captain turned the light on gotch's face to compare it with the picture on the identification card. he paid scant attention to crag. finally he looked up. "proceed, sir." it was evident the colonel's guest was very much expected. gotch struck off through the darkness with crag at his heels. the stars shone with icy brilliance. overhead antares stared down from its lair in scorpio, blinking with fearful venom. the smell of sage filled the air, and some sweet elusive odor crag couldn't identify. a warmth stole upward as the furnace of the desert gave up its stored heat. he strained his eyes into the darkness; stars, the black desert ... and the hulking form of gotch, moving with certain steps. he saw the rocket with startling suddenness--a great black silhouette blotting out a segment of the stars. it stood gigantic, towering, graceful, a taper-nosed monster crouched to spring, its finned haunches squatted against the launch pad. they were stopped, challenged, allowed to proceed. crag pondered the reason for their visit to the drone. gotch, he knew, had a good reason for every move he made. they drew nearer and he saw that most of the catwalks, guardrails and metal supports had been removed--a certain sign that the giant before them was near its zero hour. another sentry gave challenge at the base of the behemoth. crag whistled to himself. this one wore the silver leaf of a lieutenant colonel! the ritual of identification was exacting before the sentry moved aside. a ladder zigzagged upward through what skeletal framework still remained. crag lifted his eyes. it terminated high up, near the nose. this was the aztec! the real aztec! the truth came in a rush. the huge silver ship at burning sands, which bore the name aztec, was merely a fake, a subterfuge, a pawn in the complex game of agents and counter-agents. he knew he was right. "after you," gotch said. he indicated the ladder and stepped aside. crag started up. he paused at the third platform. the floor of the desert was a sea of darkness. off in the distance the lights of alpine base gleamed, stark against the night. gotch reached his level and laid a restraining hand on his arm. crag turned and waited. the colonel's massive form was a black shadow interposed between him and the lights of alpine base. "this is the aztec," he said simply. "so i guessed. and the silver job at burning sands?" "drone able," gotch explained. "the deception was necessary--a part of the cat and mouse game we've been playing the last couple of decades. we couldn't take a single chance." crag remained silent. the colonel turned toward the lights of the base. he had become quiet, reflective. when he spoke, his voice was soft, almost like a man talking to himself. "out there are hundreds of men who have given a large part of their lives to the dream of space flight. now we are at the eve of making that dream live. if we gain the moon, we gain the planets. that's the destiny of man. the aztec is the first step." he turned back and faced crag. "this is but one base. there are many others. beyond them are the factories, laboratories, colleges, scientists and engineers, right down to joe the riveter. every one of them has had a part in the dream. you're another part, adam, but you happen to have the lead role." he swiveled around and looked silently at the distant lights. the moment was solemn. a slight shiver ran through crag's body. "you know and i know that the aztec is a development from the icbm's guarding fortress america. you also know, or have heard, that out in san diego the first atom-powered spaceship is nearing completion." he looked sharply at crag. "i've heard," crag said noncommittally. gotch eyed him steadily. "that's the point. so have others. our space program is no secret. but we've suspected--feared--that the first stab at deep space would be made before the atom job was completed. not satellites but deep space rockets. that's why the aztec was pushed through so fast." he fell silent. crag waited. "well, the worst has happened. the enemy is ready to launch--may have launched this very night. that's how close it is. fortunately our gamble with the aztec is paying off. we're ready, too, adam. "we're going to get that moon. get it now!" he reached into a pocket and extracted his pipe, then thought better of lighting it. crag waited. the colonel was in a rare introspective mood, a quiet moment in which he mentally tied together and weighed his nation's prospects in the frightening days ahead. finally he spoke: "we put a rocket around the moon, adam." he smiled faintly, noting crag's involuntary start of surprise. "naturally it was fully instrumented. there's uranium there--one big load located in the most inaccessible spot imaginable." "arzachel," crag said simply. "the south side of arzachel, to be exact. that's why we didn't pick a soft touch like mare imbrium, in case you've wondered." "i've wondered." "adam," the colonel hesitated a long moment, "does the name pickering mean anything to you?" "ken pickering who--" "what have you heard?" snapped gotch. his eyes became sharp drills. crag spoke slowly: "nothing ... for a long time. he just seemed to drop out of sight after he broke the altitude record in the x-34." he looked up questioningly. "frankly, i've always wondered why he hadn't been selected for this job. i thought he was a better pilot than i am," he added almost humbly. gotch said bluntly: "you're right. he is better." he smiled tolerantly. "we picked our men for particular jobs," he said finally. "pickering ... we hope ... will be in orbit before the aztec blasts off." "satelloid?" "the first true satelloid," the colonel agreed. "one that can ride the fringes of space around the earth. a satelloid with fantastic altitude and speed. i'm telling you this because he'll be a link in step one, a communication and observation link. he won't be up long, of course, but long enough--we hope." silence fell between them. crag looked past the colonel's shoulder. all at once the lights of alpine base seemed warm and near, almost personal. gotch lifted his eyes skyward, symbolic of his dreams. the light of distant stars reflected off his brow. "we don't know whether the aztec can make it," he said humbly. "we don't know whether our space-lift system will work, whether the drones can be monitored down to such a precise point on the moon, or the dangers of meteorite bombardment. we don't know whether our safeguards for human life are adequate. we don't know whether the opposition can stop us.... "we don't know lots of things, adam. all we know is that we need the moon. it's a matter of survival of western man, his culture, his way of life, his political integrity. we need the moon to conquer the planets ... and some day the stars." his voice became a harsh clang. "so does the enemy. that's why we have to establish a proprietory ownership, a claim that the u.n. will recognize. the little nations represent the balance of power, adam. but they sway with the political winds. they are the reeds of power politics ... swaying between the sputniks and explorers, riding with the ebb and flow of power ... always trying to anticipate the ultimate winner. right now they're watching to see where that power lies. the nation that wins the moon will tilt the balance in its favor. at a critical time, i might add. that's why we have to protect ourselves every inch of the way." he tapped his cold pipe moodily against his hand. "we won't be here to see the end results, of course. that won't be in our time. but we're the starters. the aztec is the pioneer ship. and in the future our economy can use that load of uranium up there." he smiled faintly at crag. "when you step through the hatch you've left earth, perhaps for all time. that's your part in the plan. step one is your baby and i have confidence in you." he gripped crag's arm warmly. it was the closest he had ever come to showing his feelings toward the man he was sending into space. "come on, let's go." crag started upward. gotch followed more slowly, climbing like a man bearing a heavy weight. * * * * * the aztec's crew, max prochaska, gordon nagel and martin larkwell, came aboard the rocket in the last hour before take-off. gotch escorted them up the ladder and introduced them to their new commander. prochaska acknowledged the introduction with a cheerful smile. "glad to know you, skipper." his thin warm face said he was glad to be there. gordon nagel gave a perfunctory handshake, taking in the space cabin with quick ferret-like head movements. martin larkwell smiled genially, pumping crag's hand. "i've been looking forward to this." crag said dryly. "we all have." he acknowledged the introductions with the distinct feeling that he already knew each member of his crew. it was the odd feeling of meeting old acquaintances after long years of separation. as part of his indoctrination he had studied the personnel records of the men he might be so dependent on. now, seeing them in the flesh, was merely an act of giving life to those selfsame records. he studied them with casual eyes while gotch rambled toward an awkward farewell. max prochaska, his electronics chief, was a slender man with sparse brown hair, a thin acquiline nose and pointed jaw. his pale blue eyes, thin lips and alabaster skin gave him a delicate look--one belied by his record. his chief asset--if one was to believe the record--was that he was a genius in electronics. gordon nagel, too, was, thin-faced and pallid skinned. his black hair, normally long and wavy, had been close-cropped. his eyes were small, shifting, agate-black, giving crag the feeling that he was uneasy--an impression he was to hold. his record had described him as nervous in manner but his psychograph was smooth. he was an expert in oxygen systems. martin larkwell, the mechanical maintenance and construction boss, in many ways appeared the antithesis of his two companions. he was moon-faced, dark, with short brown hair and a deceptively sleepy look. his round body was well-muscled, his hands big and square. crag thought of a sleek drowsy cat, until he saw his eyes. they were sparkling brown pools, glittering, moving with some strange inner fire. they were the eyes of a dreamer ... or a fanatic, he thought. in the cabin's soft light they glowed, flickered. no, there was nothing sleepy about him, he decided. all of the men were short, light, in their early thirties. in contrast crag, at 5' 10" and 165 pounds, seemed a veritable giant. a small physique, he knew, was almost an essential in space, where every ounce was bought at tremendous added weight in fuel. his own weight had been a serious strike against him. colonel gotch made one final trip to the space cabin. this time he brought the _moon code manual_ (stamped top secret), the crew personnel records (crag wondered why) and a newly printed pamphlet titled "moon survival." crag grinned when he saw it. "does it tell us how to get there, too?" "we'll write that chapter later," gotch grunted. he shook each man's hand and gruffly wished them luck before turning abruptly toward the hatch. he started down the ladder. a moment later his head reappeared. he looked sharply at crag and said, "by the way, that twosome at the blue door got it last night." "you mean...?" "burp gun. no finesse. just sheer desperation. well, i just wanted to let you know we weren't altogether crazy." "i didn't think you were." the colonel's lips wrinkled in a curious smile. "no?" he looked at crag for a long moment. "good luck." his head disappeared from view and crag heard his footsteps descending the ladder. then they were alone, four men alone. crag turned toward his companions. chapter 3 the great red sun was just breaking over the desert horizon when crag got his last good look at earth. its rays slanted upward, shadows fled from the sage; the obsidian sky with its strewn diamonds became slate gray and, in moments, a pale washed blue. daybreak over the desert became a thunder of light. tiny ants had removed the last of the metal framework encompassing the rocket. other ants were visible making last minute cheeks. he returned his attention to the space cabin. despite long months of training in the cabin simulator--an exact replica of the aztec quarters--he was appalled at the lack of outside vision. one narrow rectangular quartz window above the control panel, a circular port on each side bulkhead and one on the floor--he had to look between his knees to see through it when seated at the controls--provided the sole visual access to the outside world. a single large radarscope, a radar altimeter and other electronic equipment provided analogs of the outside world; the reconstruction of the exterior environment painted on the scopes by electromagnetic impulses. the cabin was little more than a long flat-floored cylinder with most of the instrumentation in the nose section. with the rocket in launch position, what normally was the rear wall formed the floor. the seats had been swiveled out to operational position. now they were seated, strapped down, waiting. it was, crag thought, like sitting in a large automobile which had been balanced on its rear bumper. during launch and climb their backs would be horizontal to the earth's surface. he was thankful they were not required to wear their heavy pressure suits until well into the moon's gravisphere. normally pressure suits and helmets were the order of the day. he was used to stratospheric flight where heavy pressure suits and helmets were standard equipment; gear to protect the fragile human form until the lower oxygen-rich regions of the air ocean could be reached in event of trouble. but the aztec was an all-or-nothing affair. there were no escape provisions, no ejection seats, for ejection would be impossible at the rocket's speeds during its critical climb through the atmosphere. either everything went according to the book or ... or else, he concluded grimly. but it had one good aspect. aside from the heavy safety harnessing, he would be free of the intolerably clumsy suit until moonfall. if anything went wrong, well ... he bit the thought off, feeling the tension building inside him. he had never considered himself the hero type. he had prided himself that his ability to handle hot planes was a reflection of his competence rather than courage. courage, to him, meant capable performance in the face of fear. he had never known fear in any type of aircraft, hence never before had courage been a requisite of his job. it was that simple to him. his thorough knowledge of the aztec's theoretical flight characteristics had given him extreme confidence, thus the feeling of tension was distracting. he held his hand out. it seemed steady enough. prochaska caught the gesture and said, "i'm a little shaky myself." crag grinned. "they tell me the first thousand miles are the hardest." "amen. after that i won't worry." the countdown had begun. crag looked out the side port. tiny figures were withdrawing from the base of the rocket. the engine of a fuel truck sounded faintly, then died away. everything seemed unhurried, routine. he found himself admiring the men who went so matter-of-factly about the job of hurling a rocket into the gulfs between planets. once, during his indoctrination, he had watched a thor firing ... had seen the missile climb into the sky, building up to orbital speed. its launchers had been the same sort of men--unhurried, methodical, checking the minutiae that went into such an effort. only this time there was a difference. the missile contained men. off to one side he saw the launch crew moving into an instrumented dugout. colonel gotch would be there, puffing on his pipe, his face expressionless, watching the work of many years come to ... what? he looked around the cabin for the hundredth time. larkwell and nagel were strapped in their seats, backs horizontal to the floor, looking up at him. the tremendous forces of acceleration applied at right angles to the spine--transverse g--was far more tolerable than in any other position. or so the space medicine men said. he hoped they were right, that in this position the body could withstand the hell ahead. he gave a last look at the two men behind him. larkwell wore an owlish expression. his teeth were clamped tight, cording his jaws. nagel's face was intent, its lines rigid. it gave crag the odd impression of an alabaster sculpture. prochaska, who occupied the seat next to him facing the control panels, was testing his safety belts. crag gave him a quick sidelong glance. prochaska's job was in many respects as difficult as his own. perhaps more so. the sallow-faced electronics chief bore the responsibility of monitoring the drones--shepherding, first drone able, then its sisters to follow--across the vacuum gulfs and, finally, into arzachel, a pinpoint cavity in the rocky wastelands of the moon. in addition, he was charged with monitoring, repairing and installing all the communication and electronic equipment, no small job in itself. yes, a lot depended on the almost fragile man sitting alongside him. he looked at his own harnessing, testing its fit. colonel gotch came on the communicator. "pickering's in orbit," he said briefly. "no details yet." crag sighed in relief. somehow pickering's success augured well for their own attempt. he gave a last check of the communication gear. the main speaker was set just above the instrument panel, between him and prochaska. in addition, both he and the chief--the title he had conferred on prochaska as his special assistant--were supplied with insert earphones and lip microphones for use during high noise spectrums, or when privacy was desired. crag, as commander, could limit all communications to his own personal headgear by merely flipping a switch. gotch had been the architect of that one. he was a man who liked private lines. "five minutes to zero, commander." commander! crag liked that. he struggled against his harnessing to glance back over his shoulder. nagel's body, scrunched deep into his bucket seat, seemed pitifully thin under the heavy harnessing. his face was bloodless, taut. crag momentarily wondered what strange course of events had brought him to the rocket. he didn't look like crag's picture of a spaceman. not at all. but then, none of them looked like supermen. still, courage wasn't a matter of looks, he told himself. it was a matter of action. he swiveled his head around farther. larkwell reclined next to nagel with eyes closed. only the fast rise and fall of his chest told of his inner tensions--that and the hawk-like grip of his fingers around the arm rests. worried, crag thought. but we're all worried. he cast a sidelong glance at prochaska. the man's face held enormous calm. he reached over and picked up the console mike, then sat for what seemed an eternity before the countdown reached minus one minute. he plugged in his ear-insert microphone. "thirty seconds...." the voice over the speaker boomed. prochaska suddenly became busy checking his instruments. jittery despite his seeming calm, crag thought. "twenty seconds...." he caught himself checking his controls, as if he could gain some last moment's knowledge from the banks of levers and dials and knobs. "ten ... nine ... eight...." he experimentally pulled at his harnessing, feeling somewhat hypnotized by the magic of the numbers coming over the communicator. "three ... two...." crag said, "ready on one." he punched a button. a muted roar drifted up from the stem. he listened for a moment. satisfied, he moved the cut-in switch. the roar increased, becoming almost deafening in the cabin despite its soundproofing. he tested the radio and steering rockets and gave a last sidelong glance at prochaska. the chief winked. the act made him feel better. i should be nervous, he thought, or just plain damned scared. but things were happening too fast. he adjusted his lip mike and reached for the controls, studying his hand as he did so. still steady. he stirred the controls a bit and the roar became hellish. he chewed his lip and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. he said, "off to the moon." prochaska nodded. crag moved the controls. the cabin seemed to bob, wobble, vibrate. a high hum came from somewhere. he glanced downward through the side port. the aztec seemed to be hanging in mid-air just above the desert floor. off to one side he could see the concrete controls dugout. the tiny figures had vanished. he thought: _gotch is sweating it out now_. in the past rockets had burned on the pad ... blown up in mid-air ... plunged off course and had to be destroyed. the idea brought his head up with a snap. was there a safety officer down there with a finger on a button ... prepared to destroy the aztec if it wavered in flight? he cut the thought off and moved the main power switch, bringing the control full over. the ship bucked, and the desert dropped away with a suddenness that brought a siege of nausea. he tightened his stomach muscles like the space medicine doctors had instructed. the first moment was bad. there was unbelievable thunder, a fraction of a second when his brain seemed to blank, a quick surge of fear. up ... up. the aztec's rate of acceleration climbed sharply. at a prescribed point in time the nose of the rocket moved slightly toward the east. it climbed at an impossibly steep slant, rushing up from the earth. crag swept his eyes over the banks of instruments, noted the positions of the controls, tried to follow what the faint voice in his earphone was telling him. dials with wavering needles ... knobs with blurry numerals ... a cacophony of noise, light and movement--all this and more was crowded into seconds. the rocket hurtled upward, driven by the tidal kinetic energy generated by the combustion of high velocity exhaust, born in an inferno of thousands of degrees. behind him giant thrust chambers hungrily consumed the volatile fuel, spewing the high-pressure gases forth at more than nine thousand miles per hour. the crushing increased, driving him against the back of his seat. his heart began laboring ... became a sledge hammer inside his chest wall. he lost all sense of motion. only the almost unendurable weight crushing his body downward mattered. he managed a glimpse of the desert through the side port. it lay far below, its salient details erased. the roar of the giant motors became muted. there was a singing in his ears, a high whine he didn't like. the aztec began to tilt, falling off to the right. he cast a quick glance at the engine instruments. a red light blinked. number three was delivering slightly less thrust than the others. somewhere in the complex of machinery a mechanical sensing device reacted. engines one and two were throttled back and the rocket straightened. a second device shifted the mix on engine three, bringing thrust into balance. all three engines resumed full power. "twenty-five thousand feet," prochaska chattered. his voice was tinny over the small insert earphone provided for communications, especially for those first few hellish moments when the whole universe seemed collapsed into one huge noise spectrum. noise and pressure. "forty-five thousand...." they were moving up fast now--three g, four g, five g. crag's body weight was equal to 680 pounds. the dense reaches of the troposphere--the weather belt where storms are born--dropped below them. they hurtled through the rarefied, bitterly cold and utterly calm stratosphere. "eighty thousand feet...." crag struggled to move his body. his hand was leaden on the controls, as if all life had been choked from it. a hot metal ball filled his chest. he couldn't breathe. panic ... until he remembered to breathe at the top of his lungs. at eighteen miles a gale of wind drove west. rudders on the aztec compensated, she leaned slightly into the blast, negating its drift. the winds ceased ... rudders shifted ... the rocket slanted skyward. faster ... faster. prochaska called off altitudes almost continuously, the chattering gone from his voice. crag was still struggling against the pinning weight when it decreased, vanished. the firestream from the tail pipe gave a burst of smoke and died. _brennschluss_--burnout. the aztec hurtled toward the cosmic-ray laden ionosphere, driven only by the inertial forces generated in the now silent thrust chambers. the hard components of cosmic rays--fast mesons, high energy protons and neutrons--would rip through the ship. _if dogs and monkeys can take it, so can man._ that's what gotch had said. he hoped gotch was right. somewhere, now, the first stage would fall away. it would follow them, at ever greater distances, until finally its trajectory would send it plunging homeward. "cut in." prochaska's voice was a loud boom in the silence. a strident voice from the communicator was trying to tell them they were right on the button. crag moved a second switch. the resultant acceleration drove him against the back of his seat, violently expelling the air from his lungs. he fought against the increasing gravities, conscious of pressure and noise in his ears; pressure and noise mixed with fragments of voice. his lips pulled tight against his teeth. the thudding was his heart. he tightened his stomach muscles, trying to ease the weight on his chest. a mighty hand was gripped around his lungs, squeezing out the air. but it wasn't as bad as the first time. they were piercing the thermosphere where the outside temperature gradient would zoom upward toward the 2,000 degree mark. prochaska spoke matter-of-factly into his lip mike, "fifty miles." crag marveled at his control ... his calm. no, he didn't have to worry about the chief. the little runt had it. crag tried to grin. the effort was a pain. the aztec gave a lurch, altering the direction of forces on their bodies again as a servo control kicked the ship into the long shallow spiral of escape. it moved upward and more easterly, its nose slanted toward the stars, seeking its new course. crag became momentarily dizzy. his vision blurred ... the instrument panel became a kaleidoscope of dancing, merging patterns. then it was past, all except the three g force nailing him to the seat. he spoke into the communicator. "how we doing?" "fine, commander, just fine," gotch rasped. "the toughest part's over." over like hell, crag thought. a one-way rocket to the moon and he tells me the toughest part's over. lord, i should work in a drugstore! "seventy-five miles and two hundred miles east," the chief intoned. crag made a visual instrument check. everything looked okay. no red lights. just greens. wonderful greens that meant everything was hunky-dory. he liked green. he wanted to see how larkwell and nagel were making out but couldn't turn his head. it's rougher on them, he thought. they can't see the instruments, can't hear the small voice from alpine. they just have to sit and take it. sit and feel the unearthly pressures and weights and hope everything's okay. "ninety-six miles ... speed 3.1 miles per second," prochaska chanted a short while later. it's as easy as that, crag thought. years and years of planning and training; then you just step in and go. not that they were there yet. he remembered the rockets that had burned ... exploded ... the drifting hulks that still orbited around the earth. no, it wasn't over yet. not by a long shot. the quiet came again. the earth, seen through the side port, seemed tremendously far away. it was a study in greens and yellow-browns and whitish ragged areas where the eye was blocked by cloud formations. straight out the sky was black, starry. prochaska reached up and swung the glare shield over the forward port. the sun, looked at even indirectly, was a blinding orb, intolerable to the unprotected eye. night above ... day below. a sun that blazed without breaking the ebon skies. strange, crag mused. he had been prepared for this, prepared by long hours of instruction. but now, confronted with a day that was night, he could only wonder. for a moment he felt small, insignificant, and wondered at brazen man. who dared come here? i dared, he thought. a feeling of pride grew within him. i dared. the stars are mine. * * * * * stage three was easy by comparison. it began with the muted roar of thrust chambers almost behind them, a noise spectrum almost solely confined to the interior of the rocket. outside there was no longer sufficient air molecules to convey even a whisper of sound. nor was there a pressure build-up. the stage three engine was designed for extremely low thrust extended over a correspondingly longer time. it would drive them through the escape spiral--an orbital path around the earth during which time they would slowly increase both altitude and speed. crag's body felt light; not total weightlessness, but extremely light. his instruments told him they were breaching the exosphere, where molecular matter had almost ceased to exist. the atoms of the exosphere were lonely, uncrowded, isolated particles. it was the top of the air ocean where, heretofore, only monkeys, dogs and smaller test animals had gone. it was the realm of sputniks ... explorers ... vanguards--all the test rockets which had made the aztec possible. they still sped their silent orbits, borne on the space tides of velocity; eternal tombs of dogs and monkeys. and after monkey--man. the communicator gave a burp. a voice came through the static. drone able was aloft. it had blasted off from its blasting pad at burning sands just moments after the aztec. prochaska bent over the radarscope and fiddled with some knobs. the tube glowed and dimmed, then it was there--a tiny pip. alpine came in with more data. they watched its course. somewhere far below them and hundreds of miles to the west human minds were guiding the drone by telemeter control, vectoring it through space to meet the aztec. it was, crag thought, applied mathematics. he marveled at the science which enabled them to do it. one moment the drone was just a pip on the scope, climbing up from the sere earth, riding a firestream to the skies; the next it was tons of metal scorching through space, cutting into their flight path--a giant screaming up from its cradle. it was prochaska's turn to sweat. the job of taking it over was his. he bent over his instruments, ears tuned to the communicator fingers nervous on the drone controls. the drone hurtled toward them at a frightening speed. crag kept his fingers on the steering controls just in case, his mind following the chief's hands. they began moving more certainly. prochaska tossed his head impatiently, bending lower over the instrument console. crag strained against his harnessing to see out of the side port. the drone was visible now, a silver shaft growing larger with appalling rapidity. a thin skein of vapor trailed from its trail, fluffing into nothingness. _if angle of closure remains constant, you're on collision course._ the words from the flying safety manual popped into his mind. he studied the drone. angle of closure was constant! crag hesitated. even a touch on the steering rockets could be bad. very bad. the slightest change in course at their present speed would impose tremendous g forces on their bodies, perhaps greater than they could stand. he looked at the chief and licked his lips. the man was intent on his instruments, seemingly lost to the world. his fingers had ceased all random movement. every motion had precise meaning. he was hooked onto drone able's steering rockets now, manipulating the controls with extreme precision. he was a concert pianist playing the strident music of space, an overture written in metal and flaming gas. tiny corrections occurred in the drone's flight path. "got her lined up," prochaska announced without moving his eyes from the scope. he gradually narrowed the distance between the rockets until they were hurtling through space on parallel courses scant miles apart. he gave a final check and looked at crag. they simultaneously emitted big sighs. "had me worried for a moment," crag confessed. "me, too." the chief looked out of the side port "man, it looks like a battle wagon." crag squinted through the port. drone able was a silver bullet in space, a twin of the aztec except in color. a drone with view ports. he smiled thoughtfully. every exterior of the drone had been planned to make it appear like a manned vehicle. gotch was the architect of that bit of deception, he thought. the colonel hadn't missed a bet. he looked at the earth. it was a behemoth in space; a huge curved surface falling away in all directions; a mosaic of grays punctuated by swaths of blue-green tints and splotches of white where fleecy clouds rode the top of the troposphere. his momentary elation vanished, replaced by an odd depression. the world was far away, retreating into the cosmic mists. the aftermath, he thought. a chill presentiment crept into his mind--a premonition of impending disaster. chapter 4 the communicator came to life with data on pickering. the satelloid was moving higher, faster than the aztec, riding the rim of the exosphere where the atmosphere is indistinguishable from absolute space. crag felt thankful he hadn't been tabbed for the job. the satelloid was a fragile thing compared to the aztec--a moth compared to a hawk. it was a relative handful of light metals and delicate electronic components, yet it moved at frightful speeds over the course the armchair astronauts had dubbed "sputnik avenue." it was a piloted vehicle, a mite with small stubby wings to enable it to glide through the air ocean to safe sanctuary after orbiting the earth. pickering would be crouched in its scant belly, a space hardly larger than his body, cramped in a pressure suit that made movement all but impossible. his smallest misjudgment would spell instant death. crag marveled at pickering's audacity. clearly he had the roughest mission. while he thought about it, he kept one part of his mind centered on the communicator absorbing the data on the satelloid's position and speed. the northern tip of africa came up fast. the dark continent of history seen from the borders of space was a yellow-green splotch hemmed by blue. the satelloid was still beyond the aztec's radar range but a data link analog painted in the relationship between the two space vehicles. the instrument's automatic grid measured the distance between them in hundreds of miles. pickering, aloft before them, had fled into the east and already was beginning to overtake them from the west. the ships were seen on the analog as two pips, two mites aloft in the air ocean. crag marveled at the satelloid's tremendous speed. it was a ray of metal flashing along the fringes of space, a rapier coming out of the west. the middle east passed under them, receding, a mass of yellow-green and occasional smoke-blue splotches. the earth was a giant curvature, not yet an orb, passing into the shadow of night. it was a night of fantastic shortness, broken by daylight over the pacific. the ocean was an incredible blue, blue-black he decided. the harsh sound of the communicator came to life. someone wanted a confab with crag. a private confab. prochaska wrinkled his brow questioningly. crag switched to his ear insert phone and acknowledged. "a moment," a voice said. he waited. "commander, we've bad news for you." it was gotch's voice, a rasp coming over a great distance. "the s-two reports a rocket being tracked by radar. comsopac's picked it up. it's on intercept course." crag's thoughts raced. the s-two was the satelloid's code name. "any idea what kind?" "probably a sub-launched missile--riding a beam right to you. or the drone," he added. he was silent for a second. "well, we sort of expected this might happen, commander. it's a tough complication." a helluva lot of good that does, crag thought. what next? another set of pilots, more indoctrination, new rockets, another zero hour. gotch would win the moon if he had to use the whole air force. he said, "well, it's been a nice trip, so far." "get prochaska on the scope." "he's on and ... hold it." the chief was making motions toward the scope. "no, it's the satelloid. he's--" gotch broke in with more data. then it was there. "he's got it," crag announced. gotch was silent. he watched the analog. all three pips were visible. the satelloid was still above them, rushing in, fast. the interceptor was lower to the northwest, cutting into their path. he thought it was the drone able story all over again. only this time it wasn't a supply rocket. it was a warhead, a situation they couldn't control. _couldn't control? or could they?_ he debated the question, then quickly briefed prochaska and cut him in on the com circuit. "we can use drone able as an intercept," he told gotch. "no!" the word came explosively. crag snapped, "drone able won't be a damn bit of good without the aztec." "no, this is ground control, commander." gotch abruptly cut off. crag cursed. "calling step one.... calling step one. s-two calling step one. are you receiving? over." the voice came faint over the communicator, rising and falling. "step one," crag said, adjusting his lip mike. he acknowledged the code call while his mind registered the fact it wasn't alpine base. there was a burst of static. he waited a moment, puzzled. "s-two calling...." pickering! he had been slow in recognizing the satelloid's code call. the voice faded--was lost. his thought raced. pickering was up there in the satelloid moving higher, faster than the aztec, hurtling along the rim of space in a great circle around the earth. the stubby-winged rocket ship was a minute particle in infinity, yet it represented a part in the great adventure. it was the hand of michael gotch reaching toward them. for the instant, the knowledge gave him a ray of hope--hope as quickly dashed. the s-two was just a high-speed observation and relay platform; a manned vehicle traveling the communication orbit established by the army's earlier explorer missiles. he turned back to prochaska and sketched in his plan of using drone able as an intercept. "could be." the chief bit his lip reflectively. "we could control her through her steering rockets, but we'd have to be plenty sharp. we'd only get one crack." "chances are the intercept is working on a proximity fuse," crag reasoned. "all we'd have to do is work the drone into its flight path. we could use our own steering rockets to give us a bigger margin of safety." "what would the loss of able mean?" crag shrugged. "i'm more concerned with what the loss of the aztec would mean." "might work." the chief looked sharply at him. "what does alpine say?" "they say nuts." crag looked at the scope. the intercept was much nearer. so was the s-two. pickering's probably coming in for an eye-witness report, he thought sourly. probably got an automatic camera so gotch can watch the show. he looked quizzically at prochaska. the chief wore a frozen mask. he got back on the communicator and repeated his request. when he finished, there was a dead silence in the void. the colonel's answer was unprintable. he looked thoughtfully at prochaska. last time he'd broken ground orders he'd been invited to leave the air force. but gotch had taken him despite that. he glanced over his shoulder trying to formulate a plan. larkwell was lying back in his seat, eyes closed. lucky dog, he thought. he doesn't know what he's in for. he twisted his head further. nagel watched him with a narrow look. he pushed the oxygen man from his mind and turned back to the analog. the pip that was pickering had moved a long way across the grid. the altitude needle tied into the grid showed that the satelloid was dropping fast. the intercept was nearer, too. much nearer. prochaska watched the scene on his radarscope. "she's coming fast," he murmured. his face had paled. "too fast," crag gritted. he got on the communicator and called alpine. gotch came on immediately. crag said defiantly. "we're going to use drone able as an intercept. it's the only chance." "commander, i ordered ground control." the colonel's voice was icy, biting. "ground has no control over this situation," crag snapped angrily. "i said ground control, commander. that's final." "i'm using drone able." "commander crag, you'll wind up cleaning the heads at alpine," gotch raged. "don't move that drone." for a moment the situation struck him as humorous. just now he'd like to be guaranteed the chance to clear the heads at alpine base. it sounded good--real good. there was another burst of static. pickering's voice came in--louder, clearer, a snap through the ether. "don't sacrifice the drone, commander!" "do you know a better way?" pickering's voice dropped to a laconic drawl. "reckon so." crag glanced at the analog and gave a visible start. the satelloid was lower, moving in faster along a course which would take it obliquely through the space path being traversed by the aztec. if there was such a thing as a wake in space, that's where the satelloid would chop through, cutting down toward the intercept. he's using his power, he thought, the scant amount of fuel he would need for landing. but if he used it up.... he slashed the thought off and swung to the communicator. "step one to s-two ... step one to s-two ..." "s-two." pickering came in immediately. crag barked, "you can't--" "that's my job," pickering cut in. "you gotta get that bucket to the moon." crag looked thoughtfully at the communicator. "okay," he said finally. "thanks, fellow." "don't mention it. the air force is always ready to serve," pickering said. "adios." he cut off. crag stared at the analog, biting his lip, feeling the emotion surge inside him. it grew to a tumult. "skipper!" prochaska's voice was startled. "for god's sake ... look!" crag swung his eyes to the scope. the blip representing pickering had cut their flight path, slicing obliquely through their wake. at its tremendous speed only the almost total absence of air molecules kept the satelloid from turning into a blazing torch. down ... down ... plunging to meet the death roaring up from the pacific. they followed it silently. a brief flare showed on the scope. they looked at the screen for a long moment. "he was a brave man," prochaska said simply. "a pile of guts." crag got on the communicator. gotch listened. when he had finished, gotch said: "after this, commander, follow ground orders. you damned near fouled up the works. i don't want to see that happen again." "yes, sir, but i couldn't have expected that move." "what do you think pickering was up there for?" gotch asked softly. "he knew what he was doing. that was his job. just like the couple that got bumped at the blue door. it's tough, commander, but some people have to die. a lot have, already, and there'll be a lot more." he added brusquely, "you'll get your chance." the communicator was silent for a moment. "well, carry on." "aye, aye, sir," crag said. he glanced over his shoulder. larkwell was leaning over in his seat, twisting his body to see out the side port. his face was filled with the wonder of space. nagel didn't stir. his eyes were big saucers in his white, thin face. crag half expected to see his lips quiver, and wondered briefly at the courage it must have taken for him to volunteer. he didn't seem at all like the hero type. still, look at napoleon. you could never tell what a man had until the chips were down. well, the chips _were_ down. nagel better have it. he turned reflectively back to the forward port thinking that the next two days would be humdrum. nothing would ever seem tough again. not after what they had just been through. prochaska fell into the routine of calling out altitude and speed. crag listened with one part of his mind occupied with pickering's sacrifice. would he have had the courage to drive the satelloid into the warhead? did it take more guts to do that than to double for a man slated to be murdered? he mulled the questions. plainly, step one was jammed with heroes. "altitude, 1,000 miles, speed, 22,300." prochaska whispered the words, awe in his voice. they looked at each other wordlessly. "we've made it," crag exulted. "we're on that old moon trajectory." the chiefs face reflected his wonder. crag studied his instruments. speed slightly over 22,300 miles per hour. the radar altimeter showed the aztec slightly more than one thousand miles above the earth's surface. he hesitated, then cut off the third stage engine. the fuel gauge indicated a bare few gallons left. this small amount, he knew, represented error in the precise computations of escape. well, the extra weight was negligible. at the same time, they couldn't afford added acceleration. he became aware that the last vestige of weight had vanished. he moved his hand. no effort. no effort at all. space, he thought, the first successful manned space ship. elation swept him. he, adam crag, was in space. not just the top of the atmosphere but absolute space--the big vacuum that surrounded the world. this had been the aim ... the dream ... the goal. and so quick! he flicked his mind back. it seemed almost no time at all since the germans had electrified the world with the v-2, a primitive rocket that scarcely reached seventy miles above the earth, creeping at a mere 3,000 miles per hour. the americans had strapped a second stage to the german prototype, creating the two-stage v-2-wac corporal and sending it 250 miles into the tall blue at speeds better than 5,000 miles per hour. it had been a battle even then, he thought, remembering the dark day the russians beat the west with sputnik i ... seemingly demolished it with sputnik ii--until the u. s. army came through with explorer i. that had been the real beginning. irbm's and icbm's had been born. missiles and counter-missiles. dogs, monkeys and mice had ridden the fringes of space. but never man. a deep sense of satisfaction flooded him. the aztec had been the first. the aztec under commander adam crag. the full sense of the accomplishment was just beginning to strike him. we've beaten the enemy, he thought. we've won. it had been a grim battle waged on a technological front; a battle between nations in which, ironically, each victory by either side took mankind a step nearer emancipation from the world. man could look forward now, to a bright shiny path leading to the stars. this was the final step. the big step. the step that would tie together two worlds. in a few short days the aztec would reach her lonely destination, arzachel, a bleak spot in the universe. adam crag, the man in the moon. he hoped. he turned toward the others, trying to wipe the smug look from his face. the oddity of weightlessness was totally unlike anything he had expected despite the fact its symptoms had been carefully explained during the indoctrination program. he was sitting in the pilot's seat, yet he wasn't. he felt no sense of pressure against the seat, or against anything else, for that matter. it was, he thought, like sitting on air, as light as a mote of dust drifting in a breeze. sure, he'd experienced weightlessness before, when pushing a research stratojet through a high-speed trajectory to counter the pull of gravity, for example. but those occasions had lasted only brief moments. he moved his hand experimentally upward--a move that ended like the strike of a snake. yeah, it was going to take some doing to learn control of his movements. he looked at prochaska. the chief was feeding data to alpine base. he finished and grinned broadly at crag. his eyes were elated. "sort of startling, isn't it?" "amen," crag agreed. "i'm almost afraid to loosen my harnessing. "alpine says we're right on the button--schedule, course and speed. there's a gal operator on now." "that's good. that means we're back to routine." crag loosened his harnesses and twisted around in his seat. larkwell was moving his hands experimentally. he saw crag and grinned foolishly. nagel looked ill. his face was pinched, bloodless, his eyes red-rimmed. he caught crag's look and nodded, without expression. "pretty rough," crag said sympathetically. his voice, in the new-born silence, possessed a curious muffled effect. "we're past the worst." nagel's lips twisted derisively. "yeah?" the querulous tone grated crag and he turned back to the controls. _every minor irritant will assume major proportions._ that's what doc weldon had warned. well, damnit, he wouldn't let nagel get him down. besides, what was his gripe? they were all in the same boat. he turned to the instrument console, checking the myriad of dials, gauges and scopes. everything seemed normal, if there was such a thing as normalcy in space. he said reflectively, speaking to no one in particular: "maybe i should have been more truthful with the colonel before taking on this damned job of moon pilot. there's something i didn't tell him." "what?" prochaska's face was startled. "i've never been to the moon before." chapter 5 "alpine wants a private confab," prochaska said. his voice was ominous. "probably another stinker." "again?" crag plugged in his ear insert microphone thinking he wasn't going to like what he'd hear. just when things had started looking smooth too. he cut prochaska out of the system and acknowledged. "crag?" gotch's voice was brittle, hard. he looked sideways at prochaska, who was studiously examining one of the instruments, trying to give him the privacy demanded. he shifted his head. larkwell was standing at the side port with his back toward him. nagel lay back in his seat, eyes closed. crag answered softly. "shoot." "more bad news," gotch reported somberly. "burning sands picked a package out of drone able just before launch time. it's just been identified." "check," he replied, trying to assimilate what gotch was telling him. gotch stated flatly. "it was a time bomb. here's a description. bomb was packaged in a flat black plastic case about one by four inches. probably not big enough to wreck the drone but big enough to destroy the controls. it was found tucked in the wiring of the main panel. got that?" "check." "the bomb squad hasn't come through with full details yet. if you find a mate, don't try to disarm it. dump it, pronto!" "can't. it'll stay with us." "it's size indicates it wouldn't be fatal if it exploded outside the hull," gotch rasped. "it was designed to wreck controls. if you find one, dump it. that's an order." the earphones were silent. crag was swiveling toward prochaska when they came to life again. "one other thing." gotch was silent for a moment. crag pictured him carefully framing his words. "it means that the situation is worse than we thought," he said finally. "they haven't left anything to chance. if you have a bomb, it was carried there after the final security check. do you follow me?" "yeah," crag answered thoughtfully. he sat for a moment, debating what to do. prochaska didn't ask any questions. gotch was telling him that the aztec might be mined. wait, what else had he said? _the bomb was carried there after the security check._ that spelled traitor. the aztec had been shaken down too often and too thoroughly for intelligence to have muffed. it would have to have been planted at the last moment. if there was a bomb, he'd better keep quiet until gotch's suspicions were proven false--or verified. he turned toward prochaska, keeping his voice low. "search the console panels--every inch of them." he looked around. nagel and larkwell were back in their seats. nagel seemed asleep, but larkwell's face was speculative. crag's eyes swept the cabin. spare oxygen tanks, packaged pressure suits, water vents, chemical commode, the algae chamber and spare chemicals to absorb carbon dioxide in case the algae system failed--these and more items filled every wall, cupboard, occupied every cubic inch of space beyond the bare room needed for human movement. where was the most sensitive spot? the controls. he sighed and turned back to the panels. prochaska was methodically running his hands through the complex of wiring under the instrument panels. his face was a question, the face of a man who didn't know what he was looking for. he decided not to tell him ... yet. his earphones gave a burst of static followed by the colonel's hurried voice. "burning sands reports packaged timed for 0815," he snapped. "that's eight minutes away. get on the ball. if you've got one there, it's probably a twin." "okay," crag acknowledged. "adios, we've got work to do." he swung toward nagel. "break out the pressure suits," he barked. "lend him a hand, larkwell." nagel's eyes opened. "pressure suits?" "check. we may need them in a couple of minutes." "but--" "get to it," crag rasped. "it may be a matter of life or death." he turned. prochaska was still examining the wiring. no time to search the rest of the cabin, he thought. it might be anywhere. it would have to be the panels or nothing. besides, that was the most logical place. he went to the chief's assistance, searching the panels on his side of the board, pushing his fingers gently between the maze of wiring. nothing below the analog, the engine instruments, the radar altimeter. he glanced at the chronometer and began to sweat. the hands on the dial seemed to be racing. prochaska finished his side of the console and looked sideways at him. better tell him, crag thought. he said calmly, "time bomb. burning sands says, if we have one, it may blow in--" he glanced hurriedly at the chronometer--"five minutes." prochaska looked hurriedly at the array of gear lining the bulkheads. "probably in the controls, if we have one." crag finished the panels on his side without any luck. prochaska hastily started re-examining the wiring. crag followed after him. a moment later his fingers found it, a smooth flat case deeply imbedded between the wiring. prochaska had gone over that panel a moment before! the thought struck him even as he moved it out, handling it gingerly. prochaska showed his surprise. crag glanced at nagel and larkwell. they had the suits free. he laid the bomb on the console. larkwell saw it. his face showed understanding. he heaved one of the suits to prochaska and a second one to crag. they hurriedly donned them. space limitations made it an awkward task. crag kept his eyes on the chronometer. the hand seemed to whiz across the dial. he began to sweat, conscious that he was breathing heavily. "short exposure," he rapped out. "minimum pressure." he slipped on his helmet, secured it to the neck ring and snapped on the face plate. he turned the oxygen valve and felt the pressure build up within the suit and helmet. the chronometer showed two minutes to go. he snapped a glance around. nagel peered at him through his thick face plate with a worried expression. larkwell's lips were compressed against his teeth. his jaws worked spasmodically. both were waiting, tense, watching him. prochaska was the last to finish. crag waited impatiently for him to switch on his oxygen valve before picking up the bomb. he motioned the others to stand back and began opening the dogs which secured the escape hatch. he hesitated on the last one. the escaping air could whisk him into space in a flash. the same thing had happened to crewmen riding in bubbles that broke at high altitude. whoosh! he'd be gone! conceivably, it could suck the cabin clean. fortunately their gear had been secured as protection against the high g forces of escape. too late to lash himself with the seat harnessing. time was running out. panic touched his mind. calm down, crag, he told himself. play it cool, boy. prochaska saw his dilemma at the same instant. he squatted on the deck and thrust his legs straight out from the hips, straddling one of the seat supports. larkwell and nagel hurriedly followed suit. crag cast a backward glance at the chronometer--a minute and ten seconds to go! he threw himself to one side of the hatch, squatted and hooked an arm into a panel console, hoping it was strong enough. he laid the bomb on the deck next to the hatch and reached up with his free hand, held his breath, hesitated, and jarred the last dog loose. the hatch exploded open. a giant claw seemed to grab his body, pulling him toward the opening. it passed as quickly as it came, leaving him weak, breathless. the bomb had been whisked into space. he got to his feet and grasped the hatch combing, looking out. it was a giddy, vertiginous moment. before him yawned a great purple-black maw, a blacker purple than that seen through the view ports. it was studded with unbelievably brilliant stars agleam with the hard luster of diamonds--white diamonds and blue sapphires. _something bright blinked in space._ he hesitated. the cold was already coming through his suit. he remembered he hadn't turned on either the heating element or interphone system. he drew the hatch shut and dogged it down, then switched both on. the others saw his movements and followed suit. "see anything?" prochaska was the first to ask. his voice sounded tinny and far away. crag adjusted his amplifier and said grimly: "it blew." "how ... how did it get here?" he identified the voice as nagel's. he snapped brusquely, "that's what i'm going to find out." larkwell was silent. nagel began fiddling with the oxygen valves. they waited, quietly, each absorbed in his thoughts until nagel indicated it was safe to remove their suits. crag's thoughts raced while he shucked the heavy garments. it's past, he thought, but the saboteur's still here. who? he flicked his eyes over the men. who? that's what he had to find out--soon! when the suit was off, he hurriedly put through a call to gotch, reporting what had happened. the colonel listened without comment. when crag finished, he was silent for a moment. finally he replied: "here's where we stand. we will immediately comb the record of every intelligence agent involved in the last shakedown. we'll also recomb the records of the aztec crew, including yours. i've got to tell you this because it's serious. if there's a saboteur aboard--and i think there is--then the whole operation's in jeopardy. it'll be up to you to keep your eyes open and analyze your men. we've tried to be careful. we've checked everyone involved back to birth. but there's always the sleeper. it's happened before." "check," crag said. "i only hope you don't catch up with all my early peccadillos." "this is no time to be funny. now, some more news for you. washington reports that the enemy launched another missile this morning." "another one?" crag sighed softly. this time there would be no satelloid, no pickering to give his life. the colonel continued grimly. "radar indicates this is a different kind of rocket. its rate of climb ... its trajectory ... indicates it's manned. now it's a race." crag thought a moment. "any sign of a drone with it?" "no, that's the surprising part, if this is a full-scale attempt at establishing a moon base. and we believe it is." crag asked sharply. "it couldn't be their atom-powered job?" the possibility filled him with alarm. "positively not. we've got our finger squarely on that one and it's a good year from launch-date. no, this is a conventional rocket ... perhaps more advanced than we had believed...." his voice dropped off. "we'll keep you posted," he added after a minute. "roger." crag sighed. he removed the earphone reflectively. he wouldn't tell the others yet. now that they were in space maybe ... just maybe ... he could find time to catch his breath. damn, they hadn't anticipated all this during indoctrination. the intercept-missile ... time bomb ... possible traitor in the crew. what more could go wrong? for just a second he felt an intense hostility toward gotch. an air force full of pilots and he had to pick him--and he wasn't even in the air force at the time. lord, he should have contented himself with jockeying a jet airliner on some nice quiet hop. like between l. a. and pearl ... with a girl at each end of the run. he thought wistfully about the prospect while he made a routine check of the instruments. cabin pressure normal ... temperature 78 degrees f. ... nothing alarming in the radiation and meteor impact readings. carbon dioxide content normal. things might get routine after all, he thought moodily. except for one thing. the new rocket flashing skyward from east of the caspian. one thing he was sure of. it spelled trouble. chapter 6 the u. s. navy's space scan radar station no. 5 picked up the new rocket before it was fairly into space. it clung to it with an electromagnetic train, bleeding it of data. the information was fed into computers, digested, analyzed and transferred to alpine base, and thence telemetered to the aztec where it appeared as a pip on the analog display. the grid had automatically adjusted to a 500-mile scale with the positions of the intruder and aztec separated by almost the width of the instrument face. the aztec seemed to have a clear edge in the race for the moon. prochaska became aware of the newcomer but refrained from questions, nor did crag volunteer any information. just now he wasn't worrying about the east world rocket. not at this point. with drone able riding to starboard, the aztec was moving at an ever slower rate of speed. it would continue to decelerate, slowed by the earth's pull as it moved outward, traveling on inertial force since the silencing of its engines. by the time it reached the neutral zone where the moon and earth gravispheres canceled each other, the aztec would have just enough speed left to coast into the moon's field of influence. then it would accelerate again, picking up speed until slowed by its braking rockets. that was the hour that occupied his thoughts--a time when he would be called upon for split-second decisions coming in waves. he tried to anticipate every contingency. the mass ratio necessary to inject the aztec into its moon trajectory had precluded fuel beyond the absolute minimum needed. the rocket would approach the moon in an elliptical path, correct its heading to a north-south line relative to the planet and decelerate in a tight spiral. at a precise point in space he would have to start using the braking rockets, slow the ship until they occupied an exact point in the infinite space-time continuum, then let down into cliff-brimmed arzachel, a bleak, airless, utterly alien wasteland with but one virtue: uranium. that and the fact that it represented the gateway to the solar system. he mentally reviewed the scene a hundred times. he would do this and this and that. he rehearsed each step, each operation, each fleeting second in which all the long years of planning would summate in victory or disaster. he was the x in the equation in which the y-scale was represented by the radar altimeter. he would juggle speed, deceleration, altitude, mass and a dozen other variables, keeping them in delicate balance. nor could he forget for one second the hostile architecture of their destination. for all practical purposes arzachel was a huge hole sunk in the moon--a vast depression undoubtedly broken by rocks, rills, rough lava outcrops. the task struck him as similar to trying to land a high-speed jet in a well shaft. well, almost as bad. he tried to anticipate possible contingencies, formulating his responses to each. he was, he thought, like an actor preparing for his first night. only this time there would be no repeat performance. the critics were the gods of chance in a strictly one-night stand. gotch was the man who had placed him here. but the responsibility was all his. gotch! all he gave a damn about was the moon--a chunk of real estate scorned by its maker. crag bit his lip ruefully. stop feeling sorry for yourself, boy, he thought. you asked for it--practically begged for it. now you've got it. * * * * * by the end of the second day the novelty of space had worn off. crag and prochaska routinely checked the myriad of instruments jammed into the faces of the consoles: meteorite impact counters, erosion counters, radiation counters--counters of all kinds. little numbers on dials and gauges that told man how he was faring in the wastelands of the universe. nagel kept a special watch on the oxygen pressure gauge. meteorite damage had been one of gotch's fears. a hole the size of a pinhead could mean eventual death through oxygen loss, hence nagel seldom let a half-hour pass without checking the readings. crag and prochaska spelled each other in brief catnaps. larkwell, with no duties to perform, was restless. at first he had passed long hours at the viewports, uttering exclamations of surprise and delight from time to time. but sight of the ebony sky with its fields of strewn jewels had, in the end, tended to make him moody. he spent most of the second day dozing. nagel kept busy prowling through the oxygen gear, testing connections and making minor adjustments. his seeming concern with the equipment bothered crag. the narrow escape with the time bomb had robbed him of his confidence in the crew. he told himself the bomb could have been planted during the last security shakedown. but a "sleeper" in security seemed highly unlikely. so did a "sleeper" in the aztec. everyone of them, he knew, had been scanned under the finest security microscope almost from birth to the moment each had climbed the tall ladder leading to the space cabin. he covertly watched nagel, wondering if his prowling was a form of escape, an effort to forget his fears. he was beginning to understand the stark reality of nagel's terror. it had been mirrored in his face, a naked, horrible dread, during the recent emergency. no ... he wasn't the saboteur type. larkwell, maybe. perhaps prochaska. but not nagel. a saboteur would have iron nerves, a cold, icy fanaticism that never considered danger. but supposing the man were a consummate actor, his fear a mask to conceal his purpose? he debated the pros and cons. in the end he decided it would not be politic to forbid nagel to handle the gear during flight. he was, after all, their oxygen equipment specialist. he contented himself with keeping a sharp watch on nagel's activities--a situation nagel seemed unmindful of. he seemed to have lost some of his earlier fear. his face was alert, almost cheerful at times; yet it held the attitude of watchful waiting. despite his liking for prochaska, crag couldn't forget that he had failed to find the time bomb in a panel he had twice searched. still, the console's complex maze of wiring and tubes had made an excellent hiding place. he had to admit he was lucky to have found it himself. he tried to push his suspicions from his mind without relaxing his vigilance. it was a hard job. by the third day the enemy missile had become a prime factor in the things he found to worry about. the intruder rocket had drawn closer. alpine warned that the race was neck and neck. it had either escaped earth at a higher speed or had continued to accelerate beyond the escape point. crag regarded the reason as purely academic. the hard fact was that it would eventually overtake the still decelerating aztec. just now it was a pip on the analog, a pip which before long would loom as large as drone able, perhaps as close. he tried to assess its meaning, vexed that alpine seemed to be doing so little to help in the matter. later larkwell spotted the pip made by the east's rocket on the scope. that let the cat out of the bag as far as crag was concerned. soberly he informed them of its origin. larkwell bit his lip thoughtfully. nagel furrowed his brow, seemingly lost in contemplation. prochaska's expression never changed. crag assessed each reaction. in fairness, he also assessed his own feeling toward each of the men. he felt a positive dislike of nagel and a positive liking for prochaska. larkwell was a neutral. he seemed to be a congenial, open-faced man who wore his feelings in plain sight. but there was a quality about him which, try as he would, he could not put his finger on. nagel, he told himself, must have plenty on the ball. after all, he had passed through a tough selection board. just because the man's personality conflicted with his own was no grounds for suspicion. but the same reasoning could apply to the others. the fact remained--at least gotch seemed certain--that his crew numbered a ringer among them. he was mulling it over when the communicator came to life. the message was in moon code. it came slowly, widely spaced, as if gotch realized crag's limitations in handling the intricate cipher system evolved especially for this one operation. learning it had caused him many a sleepless night. he copied the message letter by letter, his understanding blanked by the effort to decipher it. he finished, then quickly read the two scant lines: "_blank channel to alp unless survival need._" he studied the message for a long moment. gotch was telling him not to contact alpine base unless it were a life or death matter. not that everything connected with the operation wasn't a life or death matter, he thought grimly. he decided the message was connected with the presence of the rocket now riding astern and to one side of the aztec and her drone. he guessed the moon code had been used to prevent possible pickup by the intruder rather than any secrecy involving his own crew. he quietly passed the information to prochaska. the chief listened, nodding, his eyes going to the analog. according to his computations, the enemy rocket--prochaska had dubbed it bandit--would pass abeam of drone able slightly after they entered the moon's gravitational field, about 24,000 miles above the planet's surface. then what? he pursed his lips vexedly. bandit was a factor that had to be considered, but just how he didn't know. one thing was certain. the east knew about the load of uranium in crater arzachel. that, then, was the destination of the other rocket. among the many x unknowns he had to solve, a new x had been added; the rocket from behind the iron curtain. something told him this would be the biggest x of all. chapter 7 if colonel michael gotch were worried, he didn't show it. he puffed complacently on his black briar pipe watching and listening to the leathery-faced man across from him. his visitor was angular, about sixty, with gray-black hair and hard-squinted eyes. a livid scar bit deep into his forehead; his mouth was a cold thin slash in his face. he wore the uniform of a major general in the united states air force. the uniform did not denote the fact that its wearer was m.i.--military intelligence. his name was leonard telford. "so that's the way it looks," general telford was saying. "the enemy is out to get arzachel at all costs. failing that, they'll act to keep us from it." "they wouldn't risk war," gotch stated calmly. "no, but neither would we. that's the damnable part of it," the general agreed. "the next war spells total annihilation. but for that very reason they can engage in sabotage and hostile acts with security of knowledge that we won't go to war. look at them now--the missile attack on the aztec, the time bomb plant, the way they operate their networks right in our midst. pure audacity. hell, they've even got an agent _en route_ to the moon. on our rocket at that." the colonel nodded uncomfortably. the presence of a saboteur on the aztec represented a bungle in his department. the general was telling him so in a not too gentle way. "i seem to recall i was in astrakhan myself a few years back," he reminded. "oh, sure, we build pretty fair networks ourselves," the general said blandly. he looked at gotch and a rare smile crossed his face. "how did you like the dancing girls in gorik's, over by the shore?" gotch looked startled, then grinned. "didn't know you'd ever been that far in, general." "uh-huh, same time you were." "well, i'll be damned," gotch breathed softly. there was a note of respect in his voice. the general was silent for a moment. "but the caspian's hot now." "meaning?" "warheads--with the name arzachel writ large across the nose cones." he eyed gotch obliquely. "if we secure arzachel first, they'll blow it off the face of the moon." they looked at each other silently. outside a jet engine roared to life. * * * * * the moon filled the sky. it was gigantic, breath-taking, a monstrous sphere of cratered rock moving in the eternal silence of space with ghostly-radiance, heedless that a minute mote bearing alien life had entered its gravitational field. it moved in majesty along its orbit some 2,300 miles every hour, alternately approaching to within 222,000 miles of its earth mother, retreating to over 252,000 miles measuring its strides by some strange cosmic clock. the apennines, a rugged mountain range jutting 20,000 feet above the planet's surface, was clearly visible. it rose near the crater eratosthenes, running northwest some 200 miles to form the southwest boundary of mare imbrium. the towering leibnitz and dorfel mountains were visible near the edge of the disc. south along the terminator, the border between night and day, lay ptolemaeus, alphons, and arzachel. crag and prochaska studied its surface, picking out the flat areas which early astronomers had mistaken for seas and which still bore the names of seas. the giant enclosure clavius, the lagoon-like plato and ash-strewn copernicus held their attention. crag studied the north-south line along which arzachel lay, wondering again if they could seek out such a relatively small area in the jumbled, broken, twisted land beneath them. at some 210,000 miles from earth the aztec had decelerated to a little over 300 miles per hour. shortly after entering the moon's gravisphere it began to accelerate again. crag studied the enemy rocket riding astern. it would be almost abreast them in short time, off to one side of the silver drone. it, too, was accelerating. "going to be nip and tuck," he told prochaska. the chief nodded. "don't like the looks of that stinker," he grunted. crag watched the analog a moment longer before turning to the quartz viewport. his eyes filled with wonder. for untold ages lovers had sung of the moon, philosophers had pondered its mysteries, astronomers had scanned and mapped every visible mile of its surface until selenography had achieved an exactness comparable to earth cartography. scientists had proved beyond doubt that the moon wasn't made of green cheese. but no human eye had ever beheld its surface as crag was doing now--crag, prochaska, larkwell and nagel. the latter two were peering through the side ports. prochaska and crag shared the forward panel. it was a tribute to the event that no word was spoken. aside from the chief's occasional checks on drone able and bandit--the name stuck--the four pairs of eyes seldom left the satellite's surface. the landing plan called for circling the moon during which they were to maneuver drone able into independent orbit. it was crag's job to bring the aztec down at a precise point in crater arzachel and the chief's job to handle the drone landings, a task as ticklish as landing the aztec itself. the spot chosen for landing was in an area where the crater's floor was broken by a series of rills--wide, shallow cracks the earth scientists hoped would give protection against the fall of meteorites. due to lack of atmosphere the particles in space, ranging from dust grains to huge chunks of rock, were more lethal than bullets. they were another unknown in the gamble for the moon. a direct hit by even a grain-sized particle could puncture a space suit and bring instant death. a large one could utterly destroy the rocket itself. larkwell's job was to construct an airlock in one of the rills from durable lightweight prefabricated plastiblocks carried in the drones. such an airlock would protect them from all but vertically falling meteorites. crag felt almost humble in the face of the task they were undertaking. he knew his mind alone could grasp but a minute part of the knowledge that went into making the expedition possible. their saving lay in the fact they were but agents, protoplasmic extensions of a complex of computers, scientists, plans which had taken years to formulate, and a man named michael gotch who had said: "_you will land on arzachel._" he initiated the zero phase by ordering the crew into their pressure suits. prochaska took over while he donned his own bulky garment, grimacing as he pulled the heavy helmet over his shoulders. later, in the last moments of descent, he would snap down the face plate and pressurize the suit. until then he wanted all the freedom the bulky garments would allow. "might as well get used to it." prochaska grinned. he flexed his arms experimentally. larkwell grunted. "wait till they're pressurized. you'll think rigor mortis has set in." crag grinned. "that's a condition i'm opposed to." "amen." larkwell gave a weak experimental jump and promptly smacked his head against the low overhead. he was smiling foolishly when nagel snapped at him: "one more of those and you'll be walking around the moon without a pressure suit." he peevishly insisted on examining the top of the helmet for damage. crag fervently hoped they wouldn't need the suits for landing. any damage that would allow the aztec's oxygen to escape would in itself be a death sentence, even though death might be dragged over the long period of time it would take to die for lack of food. an intact space cabin represented the only haven in which they could escape from the cumbersome garments long enough to tend their biological needs. imperceptibly the sensation of weight returned, but it was not the body weight of earth. even on the moon's surface they would weigh but one-sixth their normal weight. "skipper, look." prochaska's startled exclamation drew crag's eyes to the radarscope. bandit had made minute corrections in its course. "they're using steering rockets," crag mused, trying to assess its meaning. "doesn't make sense," said prochaska. "they can't have that kind of power to spare. they'll need every bit they have for landing." "what's up?" larkwell peered over their shoulders, eyeing the radarscope. crag bit off an angry retort. larkwell sensed the rebuff and returned away. they kept their eyes glued to the scope. bandit maneuvered to a position slightly behind and to one side of the silver drone. crag looked out the side port. bandit was clearly visible, a monstrous cylinder boring through the void with cold precision. there was something ominous about it. he felt the hair prickle at the nape of his neck. larkwell moved alongside him. bandit made another minute correction. white vapor shot from its tail and it began to move ahead. "using rocket power," crag grunted. "damn if i can figure that one out." "looks crazy to me. i should think--" prochaska's voice froze. a minute pip broke off from bandit, boring through space toward the silver drone. "warhead!" crag roared the word with cold anger. prochaska cursed softly. one second drone able was there, riding serenely through space. the next it disintegrated, blasted apart by internal explosions. seconds later only fragments of the drone were visible. prochaska stared at crag, his face bleak. crag's brain reeled. he mentally examined what had happened, culling his thoughts until one cold fact remained. "mistaken identity," he said softly. "they thought it was the aztec." "now what?" "now we hope they haven't any more warheads." crag mulled the possibility. "considering weight factors, i'd guess they haven't. besides, there's no profit in wasting a warhead on a drone." "we hope." prochaska studied bandit through the port, and licked his lips nervously. "think we ought to contact alpine?" crag weighed the question. despite the tight beam, any communication could be a dead giveaway. on the other hand, bandit either had the capacity to destroy them or it didn't. if it did, well, there wasn't much they could do about it. he reached a decision and nodded to prochaska, then began coding his thoughts. he had trouble getting through on the communicator. finally he got a weak return signal, then sent a brief report. alpine acknowledged and cut off the air. "what now?" prochaska asked, when crag had finished. he shrugged and turned to the side port without answering. bandit loomed large, a long thick rocket with an oddly blunted nose. a monster that was as deadly as it looked. "big," he surmised. "much bigger than this chunk of hardware." "yeah, a regular battleship," prochaska assented. he grinned crookedly. "in more ways than one." crag sensed movement at his shoulder and turned his head. nagel was studying the radarscope over his shoulder. surprise lit his narrow face. "the drone?" "destroyed," crag said bruskly. "bandit had a warhead." nagel looked startled, then retreated to his seat without a word. crag returned his attention to the enemy rocket. "what do you think?" he asked prochaska. his answer was solemn. "it spells trouble." chapter 8 at a precise point in space spelled out by the alpine computers crag applied the first braking rockets. he realized that the act had been an immediate tip-off to the occupants of the other rocket. no matter, he thought. sooner or later they had to discover it was the drone they had destroyed. slowly, almost imperceptibly, their headlong flight was slowed. he nursed the rockets with care. there was no fuel to spare, no energy to waste, no room for error. everything had been worked out long beforehand; he was merely the agent of execution. the sensation of weight gradually increased. he ordered larkwell and nagel into their seats in strapdown position. he and prochaska shortly followed, but he left his shoulder harnessing loose to give his arms the vital freedom he needed for the intricate maneuvers ahead. the moon rushed toward them at an appalling rate. its surface was a harsh grille work of black and white, a nightmarish scape of pocks and twisted mountains of rock rimming the flat lunar plains. it was, he thought, the geometry of a maniac. there was no softness, no blend of light and shadow, only terrible cleavages between black and white. yet there was a beauty that gripped his imagination; the raw, stark beauty of a nature undefiled by life. no eye had ever seen the canopy of the heavens from the bleak surface below; no flower had ever wafted in a lunar breeze. prochaska nudged his arm and indicated the scope. bandit was almost abreast them. crag nodded understandingly. "no more warheads." "guess we're just loaded with luck," prochaska agreed wryly. they watched ... waited ... mindless of time. crag felt the tension building inside him. occasionally he glanced at the chronometer, itching for action. the wait seemed interminable. minutes or hours? he lost track of time. all at once his hands and mind were busy with the braking rockets, dials, meters. first the moon had been a pallid giant in the sky; next it filled the horizon. the effect was startling. the limb of the moon, seen as a shallow curved horizon, no longer was smooth. it appeared as a rugged saw-toothed arc, somehow reminding him of the devil's golf course in california's death valley. it was weird and wonderful, and slightly terrifying. prochaska manned the automatic camera to record the orbital and landing phases. he spotted the crater of ptolemaeus first, near the center-line of the disc. crag made a minute correction with the steering rockets. the enemy rocket followed suit. prochaska gave a short harsh laugh without humor. "looks like we're piloting them in. jeepers, you'd think they could do their own navigation." "shows the confidence they have in us," crag retorted. they flashed high above ptolemaeus, a crater ninety miles in diameter rimmed by walls three thousand feet high. the crater fled by below them. south lay alphons; and farther south, arzachel, with walls ten thousand feet high rimming its vast depressed interior. prochaska observed quietly: "nice rugged spot. it's going to take some doing." "amen." "i'm beginning to get that what-the-hell-am-i-doing-here feeling." "i've had it right along," crag confided. they caught only a fleeting look at arzachel before it rushed into the background. crag touched the braking rockets from time to time, gently, precisely, keeping his eyes moving between the radar altimeter and speed indicator while the chief fed him the course data. the back side of the moon was spinning into view--the side of the moon never before seen by human eyes. prochaska whistled softly. a huge mountain range interlaced with valleys and chasms pushed some thirty thousand feet into the lunar skies. long streaks of ochre and brown marked its sides, the first color they had seen on the moon. flat highland plains crested between the peaks were dotted with strange monolithic structures almost geometrical in their distribution. prochaska was shooting the scene with the automatic camera. crag twisted around several times to nod reassuringly to nagel and larkwell but each time they were occupied with the side ports, oblivious of his gesture. to his surprise nagel's face was rapt, almost dreamy, completely absorbed by the stark lands below. larkwell, too, was quiet with wonder. the jagged mountains fell away to a great sea, larger even than mare imbrium, and like mare imbrium, devoid of life. a huge crater rose from its center, towering over twenty thousand feet. beyond lay more mountains. the land between was a wild tangle of rock, a place of unutterable desolation. crag was fascinated and depressed at the same time. the aztec was closing around the moon in a tight spiral. the alien landscape drew visibly nearer. he switched his attention between the braking rockets and instruments, trying to manage a quick glance at the scope. prochaska caught his look. "bandit's up on us," he confirmed. crag uttered a vile epithet and prochaska grinned. he liked to hear him growl, taking it as a good sign. crag glanced worriedly at the radar altimeter and hit the braking rockets harder. the quick deceleration gave the impression of added weight, pushing them hard against their chest harnesses. he found it difficult to make the precise hand movements required. the aztec was dropping with frightening rapidity. they crossed more mountains, seas, craters, great chasms. time had become meaningless--had ceased to exist. the sheer bleakness of the face of the moon gripped his imagination. he saw it as the supreme challenge, the magnitude of which took his breath. he was cortez scanning the land of the aztecs. more, for this stark lonely terrain had never felt the stir of life. no benevolent maker had created this chaos. it was an inferno without fire--a hell of a kind never known on earth. it was the handiwork of a nature on a rampage--a maddened nature whose molding clay had been molten lava. he stirred the controls, moved them further, holding hard. the braking rockets shook the ship, coming through the bulkheads as a faint roar. the ground came up fast. still the landscape fled by--fled past for seeming days. prochaska announced wonderingly. "we've cleared the back side. you're on the landing run, skipper." crag nodded grimly, thinking it was going to be rough. each second, each split second had to be considered. there was no margin for error. no second chance. he checked and re-checked his instruments, juggling speed against altitude. ninety-mile wide ptolemaeus was coming around again--fast. he caught a glimpse through the floor port. it was a huge saucer, level at the bottom, rimmed by low cliffs which looked as though they had been carved from obsidian. the floor was split by irregular chasms, punctuated by sharp high pinnacles. it receded and alphons rushed to meet them. the aztec was dropping fast. too fast? crag looked worriedly at the radar altimeter and hit the braking rockets harder. alphons passed more slowly. they fled south, a slim needle in the lunar skies. "arzachel...." he breathed the name almost reverently. prochaska glanced out the side port before hurriedly consulting the instruments. thirty thousand feet! he glanced worriedly at crag. the ground passed below them at a fantastic speed. they seemed to be dropping faster. the stark face of the planet hurtled to meet them. "fifteen thousand feet," prochaska half-whispered. crag nodded. "twelve thousand ... ten ... eight...." the chief continued to chant the altitude readings in a strained voice. up until then the face of the moon had seemed to rush toward the aztec. all at once it changed. now it was the aztec that rushed across the hostile land--rushing and dropping. "three thousand ... two thousand...." they flashed high above a great cliff which fell away for some ten thousand feet. at its base began the plain of arzachel. out of the corner of his eye crag saw that bandit was leading them. but higher ... much higher. now it was needling into the purple-black--straight up. he gave a quick, automatic instrument check. the braking rockets were blasting hard. he switched one hand to the steering rockets. zero minute was coming up. bandit was ahead, but higher. it could, he thought, be a photo finish. suddenly he remembered his face plate and snapped it shut, opening the oxygen valve. the suit grew rigid on his body and hampered his arms. he cursed softly and looked sideways at prochaska. he was having the same difficulty. crag managed a quick over-the-shoulder glance at larkwell and nagel. everything seemed okay. he took a deep breath and applied full deceleration with the braking jets and simultaneously began manipulating the steering rockets. the ship vibrated from stem to stern. the forward port moved upward; the face of the moon swished past and disappeared. bandit was lost to sight. the ship trembled, shuddered and gave a violent wrench. crag was thrown forward. the aztec began letting down, tail first. it was a sickening moment. the braking rockets astern, heavy with smoke, thundered through the hull. the smoke blanketed out the ports. the cabin vibrated. he straightened the nose with the steering rockets, letting the ship fall in a vertical attitude, tail first. he snapped a glance at the radar altimeter and punched a button. a servo mechanism somewhere in the ship started a small motor. a tubular spidery metal framework was projected out from the tail, extending some twenty feet before it locked into position. it was a failing device intended to absorb the energy generated by the landing impact. prochaska looked worriedly out the side port. crag followed his eyes. small details on the plain of arzachel loomed large--pits, cracks, low ridges of rock. suddenly the plain was an appalling reality. rocky fingers reached to grip them. he twisted his head until he caught sight of bandit. it was moving down, tail first, but it was still high in the sky. too high, he thought. he took a fast look at the radar altimeter and punched the full battery of braking rockets again. the force on his body seemed unbearable. blood was forced into his head, blurring his vision. his ears buzzed and his spine seemed to be supporting some gigantic weight. the pressure eased and the ground began moving up more slowly. the rockets were blasting steadily. for a split-second the ship seemed to hang in mid-air followed by a violent shock. the cabin teetered, then smashed onto the plain, swaying as the framework projecting from the tail crumpled. the shock drove them hard into their seats. they sat for a moment before full realization dawned. they were down--alive! crag and prochaska simultaneously began shucking their safety belts. crag was first. he sprang to the side port just in time to see the last seconds of bandit's landing. it came down fast, a perpendicular needle stabbing toward the lunar surface. flame spewed from its braking rockets; white smoke enveloped its nose. fast ... too fast, he thought. suddenly the flame licked out. fuel error. the thought flashed through his mind. the fuel bandit had wasted in space maneuvering to destroy the drone had left it short. the rocket seemed to hang in the sky for a scant second before it plummeted straight down, smashing into the stark lunar landscape. the chief had reached his side just in time to witness the crash. "that's all for them," he said. "can't say i'm sorry." "serves 'em damn well right," growled crag. he became conscious of nagel and larkwell crowding to get a look and obligingly moved to one side without taking his eyes from the scene. he tried to judge bandit's distance. "little over two miles," he estimated aloud. "you can't tell in this vacuum," prochaska advised. "your eyes play you tricks. wait'll i try the scope." a moment later he turned admiringly from the instrument. "closer to three miles. pretty good for a green hand." crag laughed, a quiet laugh of self-satisfaction, and said, "i could use a little elbow room. any volunteers?" "liberty call," prochaska sang out. "all ashore who's going ashore. the gals are waiting." "i'm a little tired of this sardine can, myself," larkwell put in. "let's get on our sunday duds and blow. i'd like to do the town." there was a murmur of assent. nagel, who was monitoring the oxygen pressure gauge, spoke affirmatively. "no leaks." "good," crag said with relief. he took a moment off to feel exultant but the mood quickly vanished. there was work ahead--sheer drudgery. "check suit pressure," he ordered. they waited a moment longer while they tested pressure, the interphones, and adjusted to the lack of body weight before crag moved toward the hatch. prochaska prompted them to actuate their temperature controls: "it's going to be hot out there." crag nodded, checked his temperature dial and started to open the hatch. the lock-lever resisted his efforts for a moment. he tested the dogs securing the door. several of them appeared jammed. panic touched his mind. he braced his body, moving against one of the lock levers with all his strength. it gave, then another. he loosened the last lock braced against the blast of escaping air. the hatch exploded open. he stood for a moment looking at the ground, some twenty feet below. the metal framework now crumpled below the tail had done its work. it had struck, failing, and in doing so had absorbed a large amount of impact energy which otherwise would have been absorbed by the body of the rocket with possible damage to the space cabin. the aztec's tail fins were buried in what appeared to be a powdery ash. the rocket was canted slightly but, he thought, not dangerously so. larkwell broke out the rope ladder provided for descent and was looking busy. now it was his turn to shine. he hooked the ladder over two pegs and let the other end fall to the ground. he tested it then straightened up and turned to crag. "you may depart, sire." crag grinned and started down the ladder. it was clumsy work. the bulk and rigidity of his suit made his movements uncertain, difficult. he descended slowly, testing each step. he hesitated at the last rung, thinking: _this is it!_ he let his foot dangle above the surface for a moment before plunging it down into the soft ash mantle, then walked a few feet, ankle deep in a fine gray powder. first human foot to touch the moon, he thought. the first human foot ever to step beyond the world. yeah, the human race was on the way--led by adam philip crag. he felt good. it occurred to him then that he was not the real victor. that honor belonged to a man 240,000 miles away. gotch had won the moon. it had been the opaque-eyed colonel who had directed the conquest. he, crag, was merely a foot soldier. just one of the troops. all at once he felt humble. prochaska came down next, followed by nagel. larkwell was last. they stood in a half-circle looking at each other, awed by the thing they had done. no one spoke. they shifted their eyes outward, hungrily over the plain, marveling at the world they had inherited. it was a bleak, hostile world encompassed in a bowl whose vast depressed interior alternately was burned and frozen by turn. to their north the rim of arzachel towered ten thousand feet, falling away as it curved over the horizon to the east and west. the plain to the south was a flat expanse of gray punctuated by occasional rocky knolls and weird, needle-sharp pinnacles, some of which towered to awesome heights. southeast a long narrow spur of rock rose and crawled over the floor of the crater for several miles before it dipped again into its ashy bed. crag calculated that a beeline to bandit would just about skirt the southeast end of the spur. another rock formation dominated the middle-expanse of the plain to the south. it rose, curving over the crater floor like the spinal column of some gigantic lizard--a great crescent with its horns pointed toward their present position. prochaska promptly dubbed it "backbone ridge," a name that stuck. crag suddenly remembered what he had to do, and coughed meaningfully into his lip mike. the group fell silent. he faced the distant northern cliffs and began to speak: "i, adam crag, by the authority vested in me by the government of the united states of america, do hereby claim this land, and all the lands of the moon, as legal territory of the united states of america, to be a dominion of the united states of america, subject to its government and laws." when he finished, he was quiet for a minute. "for the record, this is pickering field. i think he'd like that," he added. there was a lump in his throat. prochaska said quietly, "gotch will like it, too. hadn't we better record that and transmit it to alpine?" "it's already recorded." crag grinned. "all but the pickering field part. gotch wrote it out himself." "confident bastard." larkwell smiled. "he had a lot more faith than i did." "especially the way you brought that stovepipe down," nagel interjected. there was a moment of startled silence. prochaska said coldly. "i hope you do your job as well." nagel looked provocatively at him but didn't reply. larkwell had been studying the terrain. "wish able had made it," he said wistfully. "i'd like to get started on that airlock. it's going to be a honey to build." "amen." crag swept his eyes over the ashy surface. "the scientists figure that falling meteorites may be our biggest hazard." "not if we follow the plan of building our airlock in a rill," larkwell interjected. "then the only danger would be from stuff coming straight down." "agreed. but the fact remains that we lost able. we'll have to chance living in the aztec until drone baker arrives." "if it makes it." "it'll make it," crag answered with certainty. their safe landing had boosted his confidence. they'd land baker and charlie, in that order, he thought. they'd locate a shallow rill; then they'd build an airlock to protect them against chance meteorites. that's the way they'd do it; one ... two ... three.... "we've got it whipped," prochaska observed, but his voice didn't hold the certainty of his words. crag said, "i was wondering if we couldn't assess the danger. it might not be so great...." "how?" prochaska asked curiously. "no wind, no air, no external forces to disturb the ash mantle, except for meteorites. any strike would leave a trace. we might smooth off a given area and check for hits after a couple of days. that would give some idea of the danger." he faced prochaska. "what do you think?" "but the ash itself is meteorite dust," he protested. "we could at least chart the big hits--those large enough to damage the rocket." "we'll know if any hit," larkwell prophesied grimly. "maybe not;" nagel cut in. "supposing it's pinhole size? the air could seep out and we wouldn't know it until too late." crag said decisively. "that means we'll have to maintain a watch over the pressure gauge." "that won't help if it's a big chunk." prochaska scraped his toe through the ash. "the possibility's sort of disconcerting." "too damned many occupational hazards for me," larkwell ventured. "i must have had rocks in my head when i volunteered for this one." "all brawn and no brain." crag gave a wry smile. "that's the kind of fodder that's needed for deep space." prochaska said, "we ought to let gotch know he's just acquired a few more acres." "right." crag hesitated a moment. "then we'll check out on bandit." "why?" larkwell asked. "there might be some survivors." "let them rot," nagel growled. "that's for me to decide," crag said coldly. he stared hard at the oxygen man. "we're still human." nagel snapped, "they're damned murderers." "that's no reason we should be." crag turned back toward the ladder. when he reached it, he paused and looked skyward. the sun was a precise circle of intolerable white light set amid the ebony of space. the stars seemed very close. the space cabin was a vacuum. at nagel's suggestion they kept pressure to a minimum to preserve oxygen. when they were out of their suits, prochaska got on the radio. he had difficulty raising alpine base, working for several minutes before he got an answering signal. when the connection was made, crag moved into prochaska's place and switched to his ear insert microphone. he listened to the faint slightly metallic voice for a moment before he identified it as gotch's. he thought: _the old man must be living in the radio shack._ he adjusted his headset and sent a lengthy report. if gotch were jubilant over the fruition of his dream, he carefully concealed it. he congratulated crag and the crew, speaking in precise formal terms, and almost immediately launched into a barrage of questions regarding their next step. the colonel's reaction nettled him. lord, he should be jubilant ... jumping with joy ... waltzing the telephone gal. instead he was speaking with a business-as-usual manner. gotch left it up to crag on whether or not to attempt a rescue expedition. "but not if it endangers the expedition in any way," he added. he informed him that drone baker had been launched without mishap. "just be ready for her," he cautioned. "and again--congratulations, commander." there was a pause.... "i think pickering field is a fitting name." the voice in the earphones died away and crag found himself listening to the static of space. he pulled the sets off and turned to nagel. "how much oxygen would a man need for a round trip to bandit, assuming a total distance of seven miles." "it's not that far," prochaska reminded. "there might be detours." nagel calculated rapidly. "an extra cylinder would do it." "okay, larkwell and i'll go. you and prochaska stand by." crag caught the surprised look on the chief's face. "there might be communication problems," he explained. privately, he had decided that no man would be left alone until the mystery of the time bomb was cleared up. prochaska nodded. the arrangement made sense. nagel appeared pleased that he didn't have to make the long trek. larkwell, on the other hand, seemed glad to have been chosen. chapter 9 there is no dawn on the moon, no dusk, no atmosphere to catch and spread the light of the sun. when the lunar night ends--a night two earth weeks long--the sun simply pops over the horizon, bringing its intolerable heat. but the sky remains black--black and sprinkled with stars agleam with a light unknown on earth. at night the temperature is 250 degrees below zero; by day it is the heat of boiling water. yet the sun is but an intense circle of white aloft in a nigrescent sky. it was a world such as crag had scarcely dreamed of--alien, hostile, fantastic in its architecture--a bizarre world spawned by a nature in revolt. crag stopped to adjust the temperature control on his suit. he started to mop his brow before he remembered the helmet. larkwell saw the gesture, and behind his thick face plate his lips wrinkled in a grin. "go on, scratch it," he challenged. "this moon's going to take a lot of getting used to." crag swept his eyes over the bleak plain. "and they send four men to conquer this." "it ain't conquered yet," larkwell spat. crag's answer was a sober reflection. "no, it isn't," he said quietly. he contemplated the soot-filled sky, its magic lanterns, then looked down again at the plain. "let's get moving." * * * * * it was dawn--dawn in the sense that the sun had climbed above the horizon. the landing had been planned for sunup--the line which divided night from day--to give them the benefit of a two-week day before another instantaneous onslaught of night. they moved slowly across the ashy floor of the crater, occasionally circling small knolls or jagged rock outcroppings. despite the cumbersome suits and the burden of the extra oxygen cylinder each carried, they made good time. crag led the way with larkwell close behind, threading his way toward the spot where the enemy rocket had fallen from the sky. they had to stop several times to rest and regulate their temperature controls. despite the protective garments they were soon sweating and panting, gasping for breath with the feeling of suffocation. crag felt the water trickling down his body in rivulets and began to itch, a sensation that was almost a pain. "it's not going to be a picnic," larkwell complained. his voice sounded exhausted in the earphones. crag grunted without answering. his feet ploughed up little spurts of dust which fell as quickly as they rose. like water dropping, he thought. he wondered how long they would be able to endure the heat. could they possibly adapt their bodies to such an environment? what of the cold of night? the questions bothered him. he tried to visualize what it would be like to plunge from boiling day to the bitterly cold night within the space of moments. would they be able to take it? he grinned to himself. they'd find out! at the next halt they looked back at the aztec. "we don't seem to be getting anywhere," larkwell observed. crag contemplated the rocket. he was right. the ship seemed almost as large and clear as ever. "your eyes trick you," he said. "it's just another thing we'll have to get used to." he let his eyes linger on the plain. it was washed with a brilliant light which even their glare shields didn't diminish. each rock, each outcrop cast long black shadows--black silhouettes against the white ash. there were no grays, no intermediate shades. everything was either black or white. his eyes began to ache and he turned them from the scene. he nodded at larkwell and resumed his trek. he was trudging head down when he suddenly stopped. a chasm yawned at his feet. "mighty wide," larkwell observed, coming up. "yeah," said crag, indecisively. the rift was about twenty feet wide, its bottom lost in black shadows. larkwell studied the chasm carefully. "might be just the rill we need for an airlock. if it's not too deep," he added. he picked up a boulder and dropped it over the edge, waiting expectantly. crag chuckled. the construction man had forgotten that sound couldn't be transmitted through a vacuum. larkwell caught the laugh in his earphones and smiled weakly. he said sheepishly, "something else to learn." "we've plenty to learn." crag looked both ways. to the right the chasm seemed to narrow and, although he wasn't sure, end. "let's try it," he suggested. larkwell nodded agreement. they trudged along the edge of the fissure, walking slowly to conserve their energy. the plain became more uneven. small outcroppings of black glassy rock punctured the ash, becoming more numerous as they progressed. occasional saw-toothed needles pierced the sky. several times they stopped and looked back at the aztec. it was a black cylinder, smaller yet seemingly close. crag's guess was right. the chasm narrowed abruptly and terminated at the base of a small knoll. both rockets were now hidden by intervening rocks. he hesitated before striking out, keeping backbone ridge to his right. the ground became progressively more uneven. they trudged onward for over a mile before he caught sight of the aztec again. he paused, with the feeling something was wrong. larkwell put it into words. "lost." "not lost, but off course." crag took a moment to get his bearings and then struck out again thinking their oxygen supply couldn't stand many of these mistakes. "how you doing, skipper?" crag gave a start before remembering that prochaska and nagel were cut into their intercom. "lousy," he told them. he gave a brief run-down. "just happened to think that i could help guide you. i'll work you with the scope," prochaska said. "of course," crag exclaimed, wondering why they hadn't thought of it before. one thing was certain: they'd have to start remembering a lot of things. thereafter, they checked with prochaska every few minutes. the ground constantly changed as they progressed. one moment it was level, dusty with ash; the next it was broken by low rocky ridges and interlacing chasms. minutes extended into seeming hours and they had to stop for rest from time to time. crag was leading the way across a small ravine when larkwell's voice brought him up short: "commander, we're forgetting something." "what?" "radcounters. mine's whispering a tune i didn't like." "not a thing to worry about," crag assured him. "the raw ores aren't that potent." nevertheless he unhooked his counter and studied it. larkwell was right. they were on hot ground but the count was low. "won't bother us a bit," he affirmed cheerfully. larkwell's answer was a grunt. crag checked the instrument several times thinking that before long--when they were settled--they would mark off the boundaries of the lode. gotch would want that. the count rose slightly. once he caught larkwell nervously consulting his meter. clearly the construction boss wasn't too happy over their position. crag wanted to tell him he had been reading too many sunday supplements but didn't. prochaska broke in, "you're getting close." his voice was a faint whisper over the phones. "maybe you'd better make a cautious approach." crag remembered the fate of drone able and silently agreed. thereafter he kept his eyes peeled. they climbed a small knoll and saw bandit. he abruptly halted, waiting until larkwell reached his side. the rocket lay at the base of the slope, which fell away before them. it was careened at a crazy angle with its base crumpled. a wide cleft running half way to its nose was visible. crag studied the rocket carefully. "might still be oxygen in the space cabin," he ventured finally. "the break in the hull might not reach that far." "it does," larkwell corrected. his eyes, trained in construction work, had noted small cracks in the metal extending up alongside the hatch. "no survivors in there," he grunted. crag said thoughtfully: "might be, if they had on their pressure suits. and they would have," he added. he hesitated before striking across the clearing, then began moving down the slope. larkwell followed slowly. as he neared the rocket crag saw that it lacked any type of failing device to absorb the landing impact. that, at least, had been one secret kept, he thought. he was wondering how to get into the space cabin when larkwell solved the problem. he drew a thin hemp line from a leg pocket and began uncoiling it. crag smiled approval. "never without one in the construction business," he explained. he studied bandit. "maybe i can hook it over the top of that busted tail fin, then work my way up the break in the hull." "let me try," crag offered. the climb looked hazardous. "this is my province." larkwell snorted. he ran his eye over the ship before casting the line. he looked surprised when it shot high above the intended target point. "keep forgetting the low gravity," he apologized. he tried again. on the third throw he hooked the line over the torn tailfin. he rubbed his hands against his suit then started upward, climbing clumsily, each movement exaggerated by the bulky suit. he progressed slowly, testing each step. crag held his breath. larkwell gripped the line with his body swung outward, his feet planted against the vertical metal, reminding crag of a human fly. he stopped to rest just below the level of the space cabin. "thought a man was supposed to be able to jump thirty feet on the moon," he panted. "you can if you peel those duds off," crag replied cheerfully. he ran his eye over the break noting the splintered metal. "be careful of your suit." larkwell didn't answer. he was busy again trying to pull his body upward, using the break in the hull to obtain finger grips. only the moon's low gravity allowed him to perform what looked like an impossible task. he finally reached a point alongside the hatch and paused, breathing heavily. he rested a moment, then carefully inserted his hand into the break in the hull. after a moment he withdrew it, and fumbled in his leg pocket withdrawing a switchblade knife. "got to cut through the lining," he explained. he worked the knife around inside the break for several minutes, then closed the blade and reinserted his hand, feeling around until he located the lockbar. he tugged. it didn't give. he braced his body and exerted all of his strength. this time it moved. he rested a moment then turned his attention to the remaining doglocks. in short time he had the hatch open. carefully, then, he pulled his body across to the black rectangle and disappeared inside. "see anything?" crag shifted his feet restlessly. "dead men." larkwell's voice sounded relieved over the phones. "smashed face plates." there was a long moment of silence. crag waited impatiently. "just a second," he finally reported. "looks like a live one." there was another interval of silence while crag stewed. finally he appeared in the opening with a hemp ladder. "knew they had to have some way of getting out of this trap," he announced triumphantly. he knelt and secured one end to the hatch combing and let the other end drop to the ground. crag climbed to meet him. larkwell extended a hand and helped him through the hatch. one glance at the interior of the cabin told him that any life left was little short of a miracle. the man in the pilot's seat lay with his faceplate smashed against the instrument panel. the top of his fiberglass helmet had shattered and the top of his head was a bloody mess. a second crewman was sprawled over the communication console with his face smashed into the radarscope. his suit had been ripped from shoulder to waist and one leg was twisted at a crazy angle. crag turned his eyes away. "here," larkwell grunted. he was bent over the third and last crewman, who had been strapped in a bucket seat immediately behind the pilot. crag moved to his side and looked down at the recumbent figure. the man's suit seemed to have withstood the terrible impact. his helmet looked intact, and his faceplate was clouded. prochaska nodded affirmatively. "breathing," he said. crag knelt and checked the unconscious man as best he could before finally getting back to his feet. "it's going to be a helluva job getting him back." larkwell's eyes opened with surprise. "you mean we're going to lug that bastard back to the aztec?" "we are." larkwell didn't reply. crag loosened the unconscious man from his harnessing. larkwell watched for a while before stooping to help. when the last straps were free they pulled him close to the edge of the hatch opening. crag made a mental inventory of the cabin while larkwell unscrewed two metal strips from a bulkhead and laced straps from the safety harnessing between them, making a crude stretcher. crag opened a narrow panel built into the rear bulkhead and involuntarily whistled into his lip mike. it contained two short-barreled automatic rifles and a supply of ammunition. larkwell eyed the arms speculatively. "looks like they expected good hunting," he observed. "yeah," crag grimly agreed. he slammed the metal panel shut and looked distastefully at the unconscious man. "i've a damned good notion to leave him here." "that's what i was thinking." crag debated, and finally shrugged his shoulders. "guess we're elected as angels of mercy. well, let's go." "yeah, florence nightingale larkwell," the construction boss spat. he looped a line under the unconscious man's arms and rolled him to the brink of the opening. "ought to shove him out and let him bounce a while," he growled. crag didn't answer. he ran the other end of the line around a metal stanchion and signaled larkwell to edge the inert figure through the hatch. crag let the line out slowly until it became slack. larkwell straightened up and leaned against the hatch combing with a foolish look on his face. crag took one look at his gaping expression. "oxygen," he snapped. larkwell looked blank. he seized the extra cylinder from his belt and hooked it into larkwell's suit, turning the valve. larkwell started to sway, and almost fell through the hatch combing before crag managed to pull him to safety. within moments comprehension dawned on larkwell's face. crag quickly checked his own oxygen. it was low. too low. the time they had lost taking the wrong route ... the time taken to open bandit's hatch ... had upset nagel's oxygen calculations. it was something else to remember in the future. he switched cylinders, then made a rapid calculation. it was evident they couldn't carry the injured man back with the amount of oxygen remaining. he got on the interphones and outlined the problem to nagel. "try one of bandit's cylinders," he suggested. "they just might fit." "no go. i've already looked them over." he kicked the problem around in his mind. "here's the routine," he told him. "you start out to meet us with a couple of extra cylinders. we'll take along a couple of bandit's spares to last this critter until you can modify the valves on his suit to fit our equipment. prochaska can guide the works. okay?" "roger," prochaska cut in. nagel gave an affirmative grunt. crag lowered two of bandit's cylinders and the stretcher to the floor of the crater, then took a last look around the cabin. gotch, he knew, would ask him a thousand technical questions regarding the rocket's construction, equipment, and provisioning. he filed the mental pictures away for later analysis and turned to larkwell. "let's go." they descended to the plain and rolled the unconscious crewman onto the stretcher. crag grunted as he hoisted his end. it wasn't going to be easy. the return trip proved a nightmare. despite the moon's low surface gravity--one-sixth that of earth--the stretcher seemed an intolerable weight pulling at their arms. they trudged slowly toward the aztec with crag in the lead, their feet kicking up little fountains of dust. before they had gone half a mile, they were sweating profusely and their arms and shoulders ached under their burden. larkwell walked silently, steadily, but his breath was becoming a hoarse pant in crag's earphones. the thought came to crag that they wouldn't make it if, by any chance, nagel failed to meet them. but he can't fail--not with prochaska guiding them, he thought. they reached the end of the rill and stopped to rest. crag checked his oxygen meter. not good. not good at all, but he didn't say anything to larkwell. the construction boss swung his eyes morosely over the plain and cursed. "nine planets and thirty-one satellites in the solar system and we had to pick this dog," he grumbled. "gotch must be near-sighted." crag sighed and picked up his end of the stretcher. when larkwell had followed suit they resumed their trek. they were moving around the base of a small knoll when larkwell's foot struck a pothole in the ash and he stumbled. he dropped the end of the stretcher in trying to regain his balance. it struck hard against the ground, transmitting the jolt to crag's aching shoulders. he lowered his end of the stretcher, fearful the plow had damaged the injured man's helmet. larkwell watched unsympathetically while he examined it. "won't make much difference," he said. crag managed a weak grin. "remember, we're angels of mercy." "yeah, carrying lucifer." the helmet proved intact. crag sighed and signaled to move on. they hoisted the stretcher and resumed their slow trek toward the aztec. crag's body itched from perspiration. his face was hot, flushed and his heart thudded in his ears. larkwell's breathing became a harsh rasp in the interphones. occasionally prochaska checked their progress. crag thought nagel was making damned poor time. he looked at his oxygen meter several times, finally beginning to worry. larkwell put his fears into words. "we'd better drop this character and light out for the aztec," he growled. "we're not going to make it this way." "nagel should reach us soon." "soon won't be soon enough." "nagel! get on the ball," crag snapped curtly into the interphones. "moving right along." the oxygen man's voice was a flat imperturbed twang. crag fought to keep his temper under control. nagel's calm was maddening. but it was their necks that were in danger. he repressed his anger, wondering again at the wisdom of trying to save the enemy crewman. if he lived? in short time larkwell was grumbling again. he was on the point of telling him to shut up when nagel appeared in the distance. he was moving slowly, stooped under the weight of the spare oxygen cylinders. he appeared somewhat like an ungainly robot, moving with mechanical steps--the movements of a machine rather than a man. crag kept his eyes on him. nagel never faltered, never changed pace. his figure grew steadily nearer, a dark mechanical blob against the gray ash. crag suddenly realized that nagel wasn't stalling; he simply lacked the strength for what was expected of him. somehow the knowledge added to his despair. they met a short time later. nagel dropped his burden in the ash and squirmed to straighten his body. he looked curiously at the figure in the stretcher, then at crag. "doesn't make much sense to me," he said critically. "where are we going to get the oxygen to keep this bird alive?" "that's my worry," crag snapped shortly. "seems to me it's mine," nagel pointed out. "i'm the oxygen man." crag probed the voice for defiance. there was none. nagel was merely stating a fact--an honest worry. his temper was subsiding when larkwell spoke. "he's right. this bird's a parasite. we ought to heave him in the rill. hell, we've got worries enough without...." "knock it off," crag snarled harshly. there was a short silence during which the others looked defiantly at him. "stop the bickering and let's get going," crag ordered. he felt on the verge of an explosion, wanted to lash out. take it easy, he told himself. with fresh oxygen and three men the remainder of the trip was easier. prochaska was waiting for them. he helped haul the bandit crewman to the safety of the space cabin. when it was pressurized they removed their suits and crag began to strip the heavy space garments from the injured man's body. he finished and stepped back, letting him lie on the deck. they stood in a tight half-circle, silently studying the inert figure. it was that of an extremely short man, about five feet, crag judged, and thin. a thinness without emaciation. his face was pale, haggard and, like the aztec crewmen's, covered with stubbly beard. he appeared in his late thirties or early forties but crag surmised he was much younger. his chest rose and fell irregularly and his breathing was harsh. crag knelt and checked his pulse. it was shallow, fast. "i don't know." he got to his feet. "he may have internal injuries ... or just a bad concussion." "to hell with him," spat larkwell. prochaska said, "he'll either live or die. in either case there's not much we can do about it." his voice wasn't callous, just matter-of-fact. crag nodded agreement. the chief turned his back. crag was brooding over the possible complications of having an enemy in their midst when his nostrils caught a familiar whiff. he turned, startled. the chief was holding a pot of coffee. "i did smuggle one small helping," he confessed. crag looked thoughtfully at the pot. "i should cite you for a court-martial. however ..." he reached for the cup the chief was extending. they drank the coffee slowly, savoring each drop, while larkwell outlined their next step. it was one crag had been worrying about. "as you know, the plans call for living in the aztec until we can get a sheltered airlock into operation," larkwell explained. "to do that we gotta lower this baby to the horizontal so i can loosen the afterburner section and clear out the gunk. then we can get the prime airlock installed and working. that should give us ample quarters until we can build the permanent lock--maybe in that rill we passed." "we got to rush that," nagel cut in. "right now we lose total cabin pressure every time we stir out of this trap. we can't keep it up for long." crag nodded. nagel was right. the airlock had to be the first order of business. the plans called for just such a move and, accordingly, the rocket had been designed with such a conversion in mind. only it had been planned as a short-term stopgap--one to be used only until a below-surface airlock could be constructed. now that drone able had been lost-"golly, what'll we do with all the room?" prochaska broke in humorously. he flicked his eyes around the cabin. "just imagine, we'll be able to sleep stretched out instead of doubled up in a bucket seat." larkwell took up the conversation and they listened while he outlined the step-by-step procedure. it was his show and they gave him full stage. he suggested they might be able to use one of aztec's now useless servo motors in the task. when he finished, crag glanced down at the bandit crewman. pale blue eyes stared back at him. ice-blue, calm, yet tinged with mockery. they exchanged a long look. "feel better?" crag finally asked, wondering if by any chance he spoke english. "yes, thank you." the voice held the barest suggestion of an accent. "we brought you to our ship ..." crag stopped, wondering how to proceed. after all the man was an enemy. a dangerous one at that. "so i see." the voice was laconic. "why?" "we're human," snapped crag brutally. the pale blue eyes regarded him intently. "i'm adam crag, commander," he added. the bandit crewman tried to push himself up on his elbow. his face blanched and he fell back. "i seem to be a trifle weak," he apologized. he looked at the circle of faces before his eyes settled back on crag. "my name is richter. otto richter." prochaska said, "that's a german name." "i am german." "on an iron curtain rocket?" nagel asked sarcastically. richter gave the oxygen man a long cool look. "that seems to be the case," he said finally. the group fell silent. it was crag's move. he hesitated. when he spoke his tone was decisive. "we're stuck with you. for the time being you may regard yourself as confined. you will not be allowed any freedom ... until we decide what to do with you." "i understand." "as soon as we modify the valves on your suit to fit our cylinders we're going to move you outside." he instructed nagel to get busy on the valves, then turned to larkwell. "let's get along with lowering this baby." chapter 10 "gordon nagel?" the professor turned the name over in his mind. "yes, i believe i recall him. let's see, that would have been about...." he paused, looking thoughtfully into space. the agent said, "graduated in '55. one of your honor students." "ah, yes, how could i have forgotten?" the professor folded his hands across his plump stomach and settled back in his chair. "i seem to recall him as sort of an intense, nervous type," he said at last. "sort of withdrawn but, as you mentioned, quite brilliant. now that i think of it--" he abruptly stopped speaking and looked at the agent with a startled face. "you mean the man in the moon?" he blurted. "yes, that's the one." "ah, no wonder the name sounded so familiar. but, of course, we have so many famous alumni. ruthill university prides itself--" "of course," the agent cut in. the professor gave him a hurt look before he began talking again. he rambled at length. every word he uttered was taped on the agent's pocket recorder. * * * * * "gordon nagel, the young man on the moon flight? why certainly i recall young nagel," the high school principal said. "a fine student ... one of the best." he looked archly at the agent down a long thin nose. "braxton high school is extremely proud of gordon nagel. extremely proud. if i say so myself he has set a mark for other young men to strive for." "of course," the agent agreed. "this is a case which well vindicates the stress we've put on the physical and life sciences," the principal continued. "it is the objective of braxton high school to give every qualified student the groundwork he needs for later academic success. that is, students with sufficiently high i.q.," he added. "certainly, but about gordon nagel...?" "yes, of course." the principal began to speak again. the agent relaxed, listening. he didn't give a damn about the moon but he was extremely interested in the thirty some years of nagel's life preceding that trip. very much so. he left the school thinking that nagel owed quite a lot to braxton high. at least the principal had inferred as much. * * * * * "yes, i did go with gordon for a while," mrs. leroy farwell said. "but of course it was never serious. just an occasional school dance or something. he might be famous but, well, frankly he wasn't my type. he was an awful drip." her eyes brushed the agent's face meaningfully. "i like 'em live, if you know what i mean." "certainly, mrs. farwell," the agent said gravely. "but about nagel...?" there were many people representing three decades of contact with gordon nagel. some of them recalled him only fleetingly. others rambled at length. odd little entries came to life to fit into the dossier. photographs and records were exhumed. gordon nagel ... gordon nagel.... the file on gordon nagel grew. * * * * * colonel michael gotch didn't like the idea of an addition to the aztec crew. didn't like it at all. he informed crag that the rescue had been entirely unnecessary. unrealistic, was the word he had used. he was extremely interested in the fact that bandit housed an arsenal. he suggested, in view of drone able's loss, they shouldn't overlook bandit's supplies. "especially as you have another mouth to feed," he said blandly. crag agreed. he didn't say so but he had already planned just such a move. the colonel immediately launched into a barrage of questions concerning the crashed rocket. he seemed grieved when crag couldn't supply answers down to the last detail. "look," crag finally exploded, "give us time ... time. we just got here. remember?" "yes ... yes, i know. but the information is vital," gotch said firmly. "i would appreciate it if you would try...." crag cursed and snapped the communicator off. "what's wrong? the bird colonel heckling you?" "hounding is the word," crag corrected. he fixed the chief with a baleful eye and uttered an epithet with regard to the colonel's ancestry. prochaska chuckled. larkwell quickly demonstrated that he knew the aztec inside and out far better than did any of the others. aside from several large cables supplied expressly for the purpose of lowering the rocket, he obtained the rest of the equipment needed from the ship. under his direction two winches were set up about thirty yards from the ship and a cable run to each to form a v-line. a second line ran from each winch to a nearby shallow gully. heavy weights--now useless parts of the ship's engines--were fastened to these and buried. the lines were intended to anchor the winches during the critical period of lowering the rocket. finally larkwell ran a guide line from the aztec's nose to a third winch. this one was powered by an electric motor which was powered by the ship's batteries. while larkwell and nagel prepared to lower the rocket crag smoothed off an area of the plain's surface and marked off a twenty-foot square. he finished and looked at his handiwork with satisfaction. richter's eyes were filled with interest. "using it to chart the frequency of meteorite falls," crag explained. "we'd like to get an idea of the hazard." "plenty," richter said succinctly. he started to add more and stopped. crag felt the urge to pump him but refrained. the least he became involved the better, he thought. it didn't escape him that the german seemed to have recovered to a remarkable extent. well, that was something else to remember. richter injured was one thing. but richter recovered ... he snapped the thought off and turned toward the base of the rocket, indicating that the german should follow. larkwell was testing the winches and checking the cables when they arrived. "about ready," he told crag. "then let her go." the construction boss nodded and barked a command to prochaska and nagel, who were manning the restraining winches. when they acknowledged they were ready he strode to the power winch. "okay." his voice was a terse crack in the interphones. the aztec shuddered on its base, teetering, then its nose began to cant downward. it moved slowly in an arc across the sky. "take up," larkwell barked into the mike. the guide lines tautened. "okay." this time prochaska and nagel fed line through the winches more slowly. the nose of the rocket had passed through sixty degrees of arc when its tail began to inch backward, biting into the plain. "hold up!" larkwell circled the rocket and approached the tailfins from one side. he looked up at the body of the ship, then back at the base. satisfied it would hold he ordered the winches started. the nose moved slowly toward the ground, swaying slightly from side to side. in another moment it lay on its belly on the plain. "now the real work begins," larkwell told crag. "we gotta clean everything out of that stovepipe and get the airlock rigged." his voice was complaining but his face indicated the importance he attached to the job. "how long do you figure it'll take?" larkwell rubbed his faceplate thoughtfully. "about two days, with some catnaps and some help." "good." crag looked thoughtfully at richter. "any reason you can't help?" he asked sharply. "none at all," richter answered solemnly. while larkwell and nagel labored in the tail section, crag and prochaska rearranged the space cabin. the chemical commode was placed in one corner and a nylon curtain rigged around it--their one concession to civilization. crag was conscious of richter's eyes following them--weighing, analyzing, speculating. he caught himself swiveling around at odd times to check on him, but richter seemed unconcerned. electric power from the batteries was limited. for the most part they would be living on space rations--food concentrates supplemented with vitamin pills--and a square of chocolate daily per man. later, when the airlock was installed in the area now occupied by the afterburners and machinery, they would be able to appreciably extend their living quarters. until then, crag thought wryly, they would live like sardines--with an enemy in their midst. an enemy and a saboteur, he mentally corrected. aside from that there was the constant danger from meteorite falls. he shook his head despairingly. life on the moon wasn't all it could be. not by a damn sight. nagel was becoming perturbed over their oxygen consumption. he had set up the small tanks containing algae in a nutrient solution, tending them like a mother hen. in time, if the cultivation were successful, the small algae farm would convert the carbon dioxide from their respiration into oxygen. at the present time the carbon dioxide was being absorbed by chemical means. as things stood, it was necessary for the entire crew to don spacesuits every time one of them left the cabin. each time the cabin air was lost in the vacuum of the moon. crag pointed out there was no alternative until the airlock was completed, a fact which didn't keep nagel from complaining. * * * * * otto richter recovered fast. before another day had passed--the aztec continued to operate by earth clock--he seemed to have completely recovered. it was evident that concussion and shock had been the extent of his injuries. crag didn't know whether to be sorry or glad, he didn't, in fact, know what to do with the man. he gave firm orders that richter was never to be left alone--not for a moment. he told him: "you will not be allowed in the area of any of the electronic equipment. first time you do ..." he looked meaningfully at him. "i understand," the german said. thereafter, except for occasional trips to the commode, or to help with work, he kept to the corner of the space cabin allotted him. larkwell came up for the evening meal wearing a grim look. he extended his hand toward crag, holding a jagged chunk of rock nearly the size of a baseball. crag took the hunk and hefted it thoughtfully. "meteorite?" the others clustered around. "yeah. i saw a hole in that cleared off section and reached down. there she was, big as life." "if that had hit this pipe we'd be dead ducks," prochaska observed. "but it didn't hit," crag corrected, trying to allay any gathering nervousness. "it just means that we're going to have to get going on the rill airlock as soon as possible." "how will loss of able affect that?" nagel asked curiously. "only in the matter of size," crag explained. "the possible loss of a drone was taken into account. the plastiblocks are constructed to make any size shelter possible. we'll start immediately when baker lands." he looked thoughtfully at the men. "let's not borrow any trouble." "yeah, there's plenty without borrowing any more," prochaska agreed. he smiled cheerfully. "i vote we all stop worrying and eat." another complication arose. drone baker would be in orbit the following morning. prochaska had to be prepared to bring it down. he was busy moving his equipment into one compact corner opposite the commode. he rigged a curtain around it, partly for privacy but mainly to mark off a definite area prohibited to richter. the communicator was becoming another problem that harried crag. a government geologist wanted a complete description of arzachel's rock structure. a space medicine doctor had a lot of questions about the working of the oxygen-carbon dioxide exchange system. someone else--crag was never quite sure who--wanted an exact description of how the aztec had handled during letdown. in the end he got on the communicator and curtly asked for gotch. "keep these people off our backs until we land drone baker," he told him. "it's not headquarters for some damned quiz program." "you're big news," gotch placated. "what you tell us will help with future rockets." "like a mineral description of the terrain?" "even that. but cheer up, commander. the worst is yet to come." he broke off before crag could snap a reply. prochaska grinned at his discomfiture. "that's what comes of being famous," he said. "we're wheels." "a wheel on the moon." crag looked questioningly at him. "is that good?" "damned if i know. i haven't been here long enough." * * * * * crag was surprised to see how rapidly work in the tail section was progressing. larkwell had loosened the giant engines and fuel tanks and pulled them from the ship with power from one of the rocket's servo motors. they lay on the dusty floor of the plain, incongruous in their new setting. he thought it a harbinger of things to come. a rocket garage on the floor of barren arzachel. four men attempting to build an empire from the hull of a space ship. in time it would be replaced by an airlock in a rill ... a military base ... a domed city. pickering field would become a transportation center, perhaps the hub of the solar system's transportation empire. first single freighters, then ore trains, would travel the highways of space between earth mother and her long separated child. he sighed. the ore trains were a long way in the future. larkwell crawled out from the cavern he had hollowed in the hull and stretched. "time for chow," he grunted. his voice over the interphones sounded tired. nagel followed him looking morose. he didn't acknowledge crag's presence. at evening by earth clock they ate their scant fare. they were unusually silent. the chief seemed weary from his long vigil on the scope. larkwell's face was sweaty, smudged with grease. he ate quickly, with the air of a man preoccupied with weighty problems. nagel was clearly bushed. larkwell's fast pace had been too much for him. he wore a cross, irritable expression and avoided all conversation. richter sat alone, seemingly unconcerned that he was a virtual prisoner, confined to one small corner of the cabin barely large enough to provide sleeping space. crag had no feelings where he was concerned, neither resentment nor sympathy. the german was just a happenstance, a castaway in the war for arzachel. or, more probable, he thought, the war for the moon. after chow the men took turns shaving with the single razor. it had been supplied only because of the need to keep the oxygen ports in the helmets free and to keep the lip mikes clear. "pure luxury," prochaska said when his turn came. "nothing's too good for the spaceman." "amen," crag agreed. "i hope the next crew is going to get a bar of soap." "for their sake i hope they pick something better than this crummy planet," larkwell grunted. * * * * * drone baker had entered the moon's gravisphere at the precise time spelled out by the earth computers. its speed had dropped to a mere two hundred miles per hour. it began to accelerate, pulled by the moon, moving in a vast trajectory calculated to put it into a closing orbit around the barren satellite. prochaska picked it up and followed it on the scope. telemeter control from alpine fired the first braking rockets. the blast countered the moon's pull. drone baker was still a speck on the scope--a solitary traveler rushing toward them through the void. "seems incredible it took us that long," crag mused, studying the instrument panel. he reached over and activated the analog. back on earth saucers with faces lifted to the skies were tracking the drone's flight. their information was channeled into computer batteries, integrated, analyzed, and sent back into space. the wave train ended in a gridded scope--the analog crag was viewing. "seemed a damned lot shorter when we were up there," he speculated aloud. "that's one experience that really telescopes time," the chief agreed. "i'd hate to have to sweat it out again." "when do we take over?" prochaska glanced at the master chrono. "not till 0810, give or take a few minutes. it depends on the final computations from alpine." "better catch some sleep," crag suggested. "it's going to be touchy once we get hold of it." "we'll be damn lucky if we get it down in arzachel." "we'd better." crag grinned. "muff this and we might as well take out lunar citizenship." "no thanks. not interested." "what's the matter, max, no pioneer spirit?" "go to hell," prochaska answered amiably. "now, mr. prochaska, that's no way to speak to your commanding officer," crag reproved with mock severity. "okay. go to hell, sir," he joked. richter was a problem. someone had to be awake at all times. crag decided to break the crew into watches, and laid out a tentative schedule. he would take the first watch, larkwell would relieve him at midnight, and nagel would take over at 0300. that way prochaska would get a full night's sleep. he would need steady nerves come morning. he outlined the schedule to the crew. neither larkwell nor nagel appeared enthusiastic over the prospect of initiating a watch regime, but neither protested openly. when the others were asleep, crag cut off the light to preserve battery power. he studied the lunar landscape out the port, thinking it must be the bleakest spot in the universe. he twisted his head and looked starward. the sky was a grab bag of suns. off to one side giant orion looked across the gulf of space at taurus and the pleiades, the seven daughters of atlas. chapter 11 "commander!" crag came to with a start prochaska was leaning over him. urgency was written across his face. "come quick!" the chief stepped back and motioned with his head toward the instrument corner. crag sprang to his feet with a sense of alarm. richter and larkwell were still asleep. he glanced at the master chrono, 0610, and followed him into the electronics corner. nagel was standing by the scope, a frightened look on his face. "what's up?" "nagel woke me at six. i came in to get ready for drone baker ...." "get to the point," crag snapped irritably. "sabotage." he indicated under the panel. "all the wiring under the main console's been slashed." crag felt a sense of dread. "how long will it take to make repairs?" "i don't know--don't know the full extent of the damage." "find out," crag barked. "how about the communicator?" "haven't tried it," prochaska admitted. "i woke you up as soon as i found what had happened." he reached over and turned a knob. after a few seconds a hum came from the console. "works," he said. "see how quickly you can make repairs," crag ordered. "we've got to hook onto the drone pretty quick." he swung impatiently toward nagel. "was anyone up during your watch? did anyone go to the commode?" nagel said defensively: "no, and i was awake all the time." too defensive, crag thought. but no one had stirred during his watch. therefore, the sabotage had occurred between midnight and the time nagel wakened prochaska. but, wait ... prochaska could have done the sabotage in the few moments he was at the console after nagel woke him. it would have taken just one quick slash--the work of seconds. that left him in the same spot he'd been in with regard to the time bomb. he grated harshly at nagel: "wake larkwell and get on with the airlock. and don't chatter about what's happened," he added. "i won't," nagel promised nervously. he retreated as if glad to be rid of crag's scrutiny. "a lousy mess," prochaska grunted. crag didn't answer. "if we don't solve this, we're going to wind up dead," he pursued. crag turned and faced him. "it could be anybody. you ... me." "yeah, i know." the chief's face got a hard tight look. "only it isn't ... it isn't me." "i don't know that," crag countered. prochaska said bitterly: "you'd better find out." "i will," crag said shortly. he got on the communicator. it took several minutes to raise alpine. he wasn't surprised when gotch answered, and briefly related what had happened. "is there any possibility of telemetering her all the way in?" he knew there wasn't, but he asked anyway. "impossible." "okay, well try and make it from here." the colonel added a few comments. they were colorful but definitely not complimentary. he got the distinct impression the colonel wasn't pleased with events on the moon. when his cold voice faded from the communicator, crag tried the analog. the grid scope came to life but it was blank. of course, he thought, drone baker was cut off from earth by the body of the moon. it could not be simulated on the analog until it came from behind the blind side where the earth saucers could track its flight. "morning," larkwell said, sticking his head around the curtain. "how about climbing into your suits so we can get out of this can?" crag studied his face. it seemed void of any guile. nagel stood nervously behind him. "okay," crag said shortly. he hated to have prochaska lose the precious moments. they hurriedly donned their suits and nagel decompressed the cabin, larkwell opened the hatch and they left. crag closed it after them and released fresh oxygen into the cabin. richter took off his suit and returned to his corner. his eyes were bright with interest. he knows, crag thought. at 0630 the communicator came to life. a voice at the other end gave drone baker's position and velocity as if nothing had happened. the drone, on the far side of the moon, was decelerating, dropping as servo mechanisms operating on timers activated its blasters. it was guided solely by the radio controlled servos, following a flight path previously determined by banks of computers. everything was in apple-pie order, except for the snafu in arzachel, crag thought bitterly. prochaska worked silently, swiftly. crag watched with a helpless feeling. there wasn't room for both of them to work at one time. the chief's head and arms literally filled the opening of the sabotaged console. once he snapped for more light and crag beamed a torch over his shoulder, fretting from the inaction. sounds came through the rear bulkhead where larkwell and nagel were working in the tail section. strange, crag thought, to all appearances each crew member was a dedicated man. but one was a traitor. which one? that's what he had to find out. richter would have been the logical suspect were it not for the episode of the time bomb. no, it hadn't been the german. it was either the competent prochaska, the sullen nagel or the somehow cheerful but inscrutable larkwell. but there should be a clue. if only he knew what to look for. well, he'd find it. when he did ... he clenched his fists savagely. at 0715 alpine simulated the drone on the analog. fifteen minutes later prochaska pulled his head from the console and asked crag to try the scope. it worked. "now if i can get those damn wires that control the steering and braking rockets ..." he dived back into the console. crag looked at the chrono, then swung his eyes to the instruments. drone baker was coming in fast. the minutes ticked off. the communicator came to life with more data. baker was approaching ptolemaeus on its final leg. the voice cut off and gotch came on. "we're ready to transfer control." prochaska shook his head negatively without looking up. "what's the maximum deadline?" crag asked. "0812, exactly three minutes, ten seconds," gotch rasped. prochaska moved his head to indicate maybe. the communicator was silent. crag watched the master chrono. at 0812 prochaska was still buried in the panel. crag's dismay grew--dismay and a sense of guilt over the sabotage. gotch had warned him against the possibility innumerable times. now it had happened. the loss of drone able had been a bad blow; the loss of baker could be fatal, not only to the success of their mission but to their survival. survival meant an airlock and the ability to live on their scant supplies until arzachel was equipped to handle incoming rockets on a better-than-chance basis. well, one thing at a time, he thought. he suppressed the worry nagging at his mind. just now it was drone baker's turn at bat. at 0813 prochaska sprang to his feet and nodded. crag barked an okay into the communicator while the chief got his bearings on the instruments. crag hoped the lost minute wouldn't be fatal. by 0814 prochaska had the drone under control. it was 90,000 feet over alphons traveling at slightly better than a thousand miles per hour. he hit the braking rockets hard. "we're not going to make it," he gritted. he squinted his eyes. his face was set, grim. "hold it with full braking power." "not sufficient fuel allowance." "then crash it as close as possible." prochaska nodded and moved a control full over. the drone's braking rockets were blasting continuously. crag studied the instruments. it was going to be close. by the instrument data they couldn't make it. drone baker seemed doomed. it was too high, moving too fast despite the lavish waste of braking power. his hand clenched the back of prochaska's seat. he couldn't tear his eyes from the scope. baker thundered down. suddenly the drone was on them. it cleared the north rim of arzachel at 3,000 feet. too high, crag half-whispered. the difference lay in the lost minute. prochaska pushed and held the controls. crag pictured the rocket, bucking, vibrating, torn by the conflict of energies within its fragile body. prochaska fingered the steering rockets and pushed the drone's nose upward. crag saw it through the port. it rushed through space in a skidding fashion before it began to move upward from the face of the moon. prochaska hit the braking jets with full power. crag craned his head to follow its flight. out of one corner of his eye he saw nagel and larkwell on the plain, their helmeted heads turned skyward. he scrunched his face hard against the port and caught the drone at the top of its climb. it was a slender needle with light glinting on its tail--the sword of damocles hanging above their heads. it hung ... suspended in space ... then began backing down, dropping stern first with flame and white vapor pouring from its tail jets. it came fast. occasional spurts from radial jets around its nose kept its body perpendicular to the plain. vapor from the trail fluffed out hiding the body of the rocket. the flame licked out while the rocket was still over a hundred feet in the air. prochaska cursed softly. the rocket seemed riveted to the black sky for a fraction of a second before it began to fall. faster ... faster. it smashed into the lunar surface, lost from sight. "exit baker," prochaska said woodenly. quietly crag got on the communicator and reported to gotch. there was a brief silence when he had finished. finally gotch said, "drone charlie will be launched on schedule. we'll have to reassess our logistics, though. maybe we'd better knock off the idea of the airlock-in-the-gully idea and shoot along extra oxygen and supplies instead. how does the meteorite problem look?" "lousy," said crag irritably. "we've had a scary near miss. i wouldn't bet on being able to survive too long in the open. again there was a silence. "you'll have to," gotch said slowly, "unless you can salvage baker's cargo." "we'll check that." "you might investigate the possibility of covering the aztec with ash." "sure ... sure," crag broke in. "good idea. i'll have the boys break out the road grader immediately." "don't be facetious," gotch reprimanded. "we have a problem to work out." "you're telling me!" "in the meantime, try and clean up that other situation." by "other situation" crag knew he was referring to the sabotage. sure, be an engineer, intelligence agent, spaceman and superman, all rolled into one. he wrinkled his face bitterly. still he had to admire the colonel's tenacity. he was a man determined to conquer the moon. "will do," crag said finally. "in the meantime we'll look baker over. there might be some salvage." "do that," the colonel said crisply. he cut off. chapter 12 "max prochaska was a real well-liked boy," mrs. arthur bingham said firmly, "friendly with everyone in town. of course, vista was just a small place then," she added reminiscently. "not like now, especially since the helicopter factory moved in. i do declare, a soul wouldn't recognize the place any longer, with all the housing tracts and the new supermarket--" "certainly," the agent interjected, "but about max prochaska." "yes, of course." mrs. bingham bit her lip reflectively. "my husband always said max would go places. i wish he could have lived to see it." for just a moment her eyes brimmed wetly, then she blew her nose, wiping them in the process. the agent waited until she had composed herself. "little max--i always think of him as little max," she explained--"was smart and pleasant, real well liked at school. and he _always_ attended church." she stressed the word always. "just think, now they say he's on the moon." her eyes fixed the agent with interest "you'd think he'd get dizzy." * * * * * the agent almost enjoyed tracing max prochaska's history, it was a neat, wrapped-up job, one that moved through a regular sequence. teacher ... minister ... family doctor ... druggist ... scoutmaster ... athletic director--all the ties a small-town boy makes and retains. everything was clear-cut, compact. records, deeds, acquaintances--all in one handy package. the memory of a man who grew up in a small town persisted, borne in the minds of people whose worlds were small. the vista paper had obligingly carried prochaska's biography, right on the front page, under the headline: vistan lands on moon. the leading local drugstore was featuring a prochaska sundae and the mayor of the town had proclaimed max prochaska week. clearly, vista was proud of its native son, but not nearly as proud as the elderly couple who still tended a chicken ranch on the outskirts of town. "max is a good boy," mrs. prochaska said simply. her husband beamed agreement. on the surface, prochaska's record seemed clean--a good student, well-liked, the usual array of girls, and nothing much in the way of peccadillos you could hang a hat on. the agent's last view of the town was a sign at the city limits: vista--the home of max prochaska. * * * * * drone baker looked a complete loss. it had smashed tail down onto the ash covered plain about four miles to the southeast of the aztec, off the eastern lip of the curved crescent prochaska had dubbed "backbone ridge." crag calculated that the positions of bandit, the drone and their own rocket roughly formed an equilateral triangle on the floor of the crater. the lower section of the rocket was crushed, its hull split lengthwise. crag and larkwell studied the scene from a small knoll. the drone lay in a comparatively level area about thirty feet from the edge of a deep fissure, careened at a steep angle from the vertical. only its tail imbedded into the ground kept it from toppling. "might as well have a closer look," larkwell said finally. crag nodded and beckoned richter, who was waiting at the bottom of the knoll. since the sabotage incident he had split the crew into two sections which varied according to task. richter was used by either section as needed. it wasn't an arrangement that crag liked but he didn't feel it wise, or safe, to allow anyone the privilege of privacy. richter circled the base of the knoll and met them. when they reached the rocket, larkwell circled it several times, studying it from all angles. "we might come out pretty well," he said finally. his voice carried a dubious note. he lifted his head and contemplated the rocket again. "maybe some of the cargo rode through." "we hope," crag said. "i wouldn't bank too much on it." "think we might get inside?" larkwell said decisively: "not this boy. not until we pull the nose down. this baby's ready to topple." they were discussing their next move when prochaska came in on the interphone: "alpine wants the dope on baker." damn alpine, crag thought moodily. he contemplated the rocket. "tell 'em it's still here." all at once he felt depressed. strain, he told himself. since blast-off his life had been a succession of climaxes, each a little rougher than the one preceding. not that he was alone in his reactions. his mind switched to nagel. the oxygen man had become sullen, irritable, almost completely withdrawn from the group. he was, crag thought, a lonely, miserable man. even larkwell was beginning to show the affects of their struggle to survive. his normal easygoing manner was broken by periods of surliness. only prochaska had managed to maintain his calm approach to life, but the effects were telling physically. his face was a mask of parchment drawn tightly over bone, accentuating his tired hollow eyes. but richter seemed to be thriving. why not? he was a doomed man given a fresh reprieve on life, with no responsibilities to burden his existence. he was on a gravy train for the time being. still, richter was in an unenviable spot. nagel was openly hostile toward him. his demeanor and looks were calculated to tell the german he was an undesirable intruder. larkwell's attitude was one of avoidance. he simply acted as if the german were not on the moon. when in the course of work it became necessary to give richter an order, he did it with a short surly bark. prochaska concealed whatever feeling he had toward the german. no, he thought, richter's lot wasn't easy. he tried to push the mood aside. it wouldn't push. he checked his oxygen, and decided to swing over to bandit before returning. the sooner they got started on the salvage job, the better. he communicated his plan to the others. larkwell protested, "getting ready to open this baby's more important. we'll never get started on the airlock fooling around this god forsaken desert." "well get to that, too," crag promised, fighting to keep his temper under control. "by going from here we'll save a couple of miles over having to make a special trip." "suit yourself," the construction boss said truculently. crag nodded stiffly and started toward the enemy rocket, now lost to view behind intervening rock formations. by unspoken agreement larkwell fell in at the rear, leaving richter sandwiched between them. the german lived constantly under the scrutiny of one or another of the crew. crag intended to keep it that way. the trip was more difficult than he had anticipated. twice they were forced to detour around deep fissures. before they had gone very far crag's radiation counter came to life. he made a note of the spot thinking that later they would map the boundaries of the radioactive area. once or twice he checked his course with prochaska. his oxygen meter told him they would have to hurry when they topped a low knoll of glazed rock and came upon the ship. he stopped and turned, watching richter. if he had expected any show of emotion he was disappointed. his face was impassive. it gave crag the feeling that he wasn't really seeing the rocket--that he was looking far beyond, into nothingness. his eyes behind the face plate were vacuous pools. "we didn't have time to bury your companions," crag said matter-of-factly. he indicated the rocket with a motion of his head and his voice turned cruel: "they're still in there." richter's expression remained unchanged. "it doesn't make much difference here," he said finally. he turned and faced crag. "one thing you should understand. they," he swept his arm toward bandit, "were the military." "and you?" richter said stiffly: "i am a scientist." "who destroyed our drone thinking it was us." they faced each other across the bleak lunar desert. the german's eyes had become blue fires--azure coals leaping into flame. "it makes no difference what you think," he said after a moment. "my conscience is clear." "nuts." larkwell spat the word with disgust. richter shrugged and turned back toward the rocket. crag looked at him with varying emotions. one thing was sure, he thought. richter was a cool customer. he had seen new depths in his blue eyes when they had faced each other. they were hard eyes, ablaze with ice ... the eyes of a fanatic--or a saint. he pushed the thought aside. prochaska came in on the phones to inquire about their oxygen. crag checked, chagrined to find that it was too low to spend more than a few minutes at the rocket. he opened the arms locker, thinking he would have to get rid of the weapons. they could be dangerous in the wrong hands. he had been unable to carry them back the first trip. then he had regarded them as something totally useless on the moon. now he wasn't so sure. he hurriedly studied the space cabin, seeking the information gotch had requested. the floor and walls were heavily padded with some foam material--standard procedure to absorb vibration and attenuate noise. aside from the controls, there were no projecting metal surfaces or hard corners ... the view ports were larger ... acceleration pads smaller, thicker. all in all, the cabins of the two rockets were quite similar. he was examining the contents of the supply cabinets when larkwell reminded him of their diminishing oxygen supply. they hurriedly plundered bandit of six oxygen cylinders and started back across arzachel's desolate plain. * * * * * crag arbitrarily broke the lunar day into twenty-four hour periods to correspond with earth time. twelve hours were considered as "day," the remaining time as "night." he set up regular communication periods in order to schedule their activities. under the arrangement alpine came in promptly at exactly a half-hour before breakfast--0500 by earth clock--and again following the evening meal. prochaska monitored the channel during the workday to cover possible urgent messages. the schedule allowed a twelve-hour work period during the day and a three-hour work period following the evening meal, from 7:00 to 10:00. the communication periods quickly deteriorated into routine sessions--a good omen to crag--but gotch kept his finger in the pie. crag had the satisfaction of knowing he was available around the clock. consequently, when the communicator came to life midway through the regular twelve-hour work period, he knew something was brewing--something he wasn't going to like. so did prochaska. his voice, when he called crag to the communicator, spelled trouble. crag used the ear microphones for privacy and acknowledged the call with a distinct feeling of unease. as he had expected, the caller was gotch. "drone charlie was launched at 0600," he told crag. "we'll feed you the data on the regular channels." there was a brief silence. "this one's got to make it," he added significantly. crag said stonily: "we'll do our best." "i know you will, commander. i have absolutely no fear on that score. how's everything going?" the twangy voice across the abyss of space took on a solicitous tone that set his nerves on edge. something's wrong--something bad, he thought. the colonel sounded like a doctor asking a dying patient how he felt. "okay, everything seems in hand. we've got the ship in good shape and larkwell thinks we might fare pretty well with the drone. it might be in better shape than we first thought." "good, good, glad to hear it. we need a silver lining once in a while, eh?" "yeah, but i'm fairly certain you didn't call just to cheer me up," crag said dryly. "what's on your mind?" the silence came again, a little longer this time. chapter 13 "you're in trouble." gotch spoke like a man carefully choosing his words. "intelligence informs us that another rocket's been fired from east of the caspian. bunav's got a track on it." crag waited. "there are two possibilities," gotch continued. "the first and most logical assumption is that it's manned. we surmise that from the fact that their first manned rocket was successful--that is, as far as reaching the moon is concerned. the assumption is further borne out by its trajectory and rate of acceleration." his voice fell off. "and the second possibility?" crag prompted. "warhead," gotch said succinctly. "intelligence informs us that the enemy is prepared to blow arzachel off the face of the moon if they fail to take it over. and they have failed--so far." crag tossed the idea around in his mind. he said fretfully, "i doubt if they could put a warhead down on arzachel. that takes some doing. hell, it's tough enough to monitor one in from here, let alone smack from earth." "i think you're right, but they can try." gotch's voice became brisk. "here's the dope as we see it. we think the rocket contains a landing party for the purpose of establishing a moon base. in arzachel, naturally, because that's where the lode is." "more to the point, you expect an attack on pickering base," crag interjected. "well, yes, i think that is a reasonable assumption...." crag weighed the information. gotch was probably right. a nuclear explosion on the moon would be detected on earth. that was the dangerous course--the shot that could usher in world war iii and perhaps a new cave era. attack by a landing party seemed more logical. they batted ideas back and forth. the colonel suggested that just before the landing phase of red dog--the code name assigned the new rocket--crag post armed guards at some point covering the aztec. "might as well get some use out of bandit's automatic weapons," gotch dryly concluded. crag disagreed. he didn't think it likely that any attack would take the form of a simple armed assault. "that would give us time to get off a message," he argued. "they can't afford that." gotch pointed out that neither could they launch a missile while still in space. "a homing weapon couldn't differentiate between aztec, baker and bandit," he said. "but they'd still have to have some sure fire quick-kill method," crag insisted. "you may be right. have you a better plan?" crag did, and outlined it in some detail. gotch listened without comment until he had finished. "could work," he said finally. "however, it's going to shoot your schedule, even if you could do it." "why can't we?" "you're not supermen, commander," he said tersely. "the psychiatrists here inform us that your crew--as individuals--should be near the breaking point. we know the cumulative strain. to be truthful with you, we've been getting gray hair over that prospect." "nuts to the psychiatrists," crag declared with a certainty he didn't feel. "men don't break when their survival depends on their sanity." "no?" the single word came across the void, soft and low. "we can do it," crag persisted. "all right, i agree with the plan. i think you're wrong but you're the commander in the field." his voice was flat. "good luck." he cut off abruptly. crag looked at the silent panel for a moment. another problem, another solution required. maybe gotch was right. maybe they'd all wind up as candidates for the laughing academy--if they lived long enough. the thought didn't cheer him. well, he'd better get moving. there was a lot to be done. he looked up and saw the question in prochaska's eyes. might as well tell him, he thought. he repeated the information gotch had given, together with his plan. prochaska listened quietly, nodding from time to time. when he finished, they discussed the pros and cons of crag's proposed course of action. prochaska thought it would work. in the end they decided to pursue the plan without telling the others the full story. it might be the breaking point, especially for nagel, and they would be needing a good oxygen man in the coming days. crag got on the interphone and called larkwell, who was working in the tail section with the others. "judging from what you've seen of bandit, how long would it take to make it livable as crew quarters?" "why?" he asked querulously. "i haven't time to go into that now," crag said evenly. "just give me your best estimate." "you can't make it livable. it's hot." "not that hot. you've just got the radiation creeps. let's have the estimate." larkwell considered a moment. "there's quite a weld job on the hull, assuming we could get the necessary patch metal from bandit. we'd have to haul one helluva lot of gear across that damned desert--" "how long?" crag cut in. "well, three days, at least. but that's a minimum figure." "that's the figure you'll have to meet," crag promised grimly. "start now. use nagel and richter. load up the gear you'll need and get in a trip before chow." "now?" larkwell's voice was incredulous. "what about winding up this job first? the airlock is damned important." "drop it," crag said briefly. there was silence at the other end of the interphone. "okay," the construction boss grumbled finally. crag suggested that prochaska make the first trip with them to look over bandit's electronic gear. he would need to know what repairs and modifications would be necessary to make it usable. the chief was delighted. it would mark the first time he'd been out of the space cabin since the day of their landing. * * * * * crag watched them leave through the port. it was impossible to tell the crew members apart in their bulky garments. the extra oxygen and the tools larkwell had selected gave them an odd shambling gait, despite the low gravity. they plodded in single file, winding slowly across the plain. the thought struck him that they resembled grotesque life forms from some alien planet. for just a moment he felt sorry, and a trifle guilty, over assigning nagel to the trip. the oxygen man was already in a state of perpetual fatigue. still, he couldn't allow anyone the luxury of rest. work was in the cards--grueling, slavish toil if they were to survive. it struck crag that this was a moment of great risk. of the four figures plodding toward bandit, one was an enemy ... one a saboteur. yet, what could either accomplish by striking now? nothing! _not while i live_, he thought. strangely enough, richter bothered him more than the saboteur. there was a quality about the man he couldn't decipher, an armor he couldn't penetrate. it occurred to him that, outwardly at least, richter was much like prochaska--quiet, calm, steady. he performed the tasks assigned him without question ... evinced no hostility, no resentment. he was seemingly oblivious to nagel's barbs and larkwell's occasional surly rebuffs. on the face of the record he was an asset--a work horse who performed far more labor than nagel. he decided he couldn't write the german off as a factor to be continually weighed--weighed and watched. he was no ordinary man. of that he was sure. richter's presence on the enemy's first moon rocket was ample testimony of his stature. what were his thoughts? his plans? what fires burned behind his placid countenance? crag wished he knew. one thing was certain. he could never lower his guard. not for a second. he sighed and turned away from the viewport. a lot of data had piled up. he'd give alpine a little work to do to get gotch off his neck. he reached for the communicator thinking of ann. probably got someone else lined up by now, he thought sourly. * * * * * work on bandit progressed slowly. nagel dragged through each successive work shift on the verge of exhaustion. crag expected him to collapse momentarily. his disintegration took him further and further from the group. he ate silently, with eyes averted. he didn't protest the arduous hours, but the amount of work he performed was negligible. larkwell maintained his stamina but had become more quiet in the process. he seldom smiled ... never joked. occasionally he was truculent or derisive, referring to bandit as the "commander's hot box." richter remained impersonal and aloof, but performed his assigned tasks without apparent resentment. crag noticed that he stayed as far from larkwell as possible, perhaps fearing violence from the burly construction boss. prochaska, alone, maintained a cheerful exterior--for which crag was thankful. he was watching them now--the evening of the last day of larkwell's three-day estimate--returning from the bandit. the four figures were strung out over half a mile. he regarded that as a bad omen. they no longer worked as a crew, but as separate individuals, each in his separate world, with exception of prochaska. he turned away from the port with the familiar feeling that time was running out, and mentally reviewed what remained to be done. making bandit habitable was a must. there still remained the arduous task of transferring their belongings and gear to bandit. drone baker had to be toppled and her cargo salvaged. then there was drone charlie, at present just a minute speck somewhere in the great void between earth and her moon; but in somewhat less than forty-eight hours it would represent tons of metal hurtling over the rim of arzachel. this time they couldn't fumble the ball. the building of the airlock in the rill loomed in the immediate future--an oppressive shadow that caused him no end of worry. there were other problems, too--like the item of red dog ... the possible battle for control of the moon. red dog, in particular, had become the prime shadow darkening arzachel's ashy plains. he thought about the emotional deterioration which had laid an iron grip over the expedition and wondered if they could hang on through the rough days ahead. all in all, the task of colonizing the moon appeared an extremely formidable one. he shook off his apprehensions and began planning his next step. * * * * * that evening crag knocked off the usual three hour work period following evening chow. nagel tumbled onto his pad and was asleep almost instantly. his breathing was a harsh rasp. at crag's suggestion prochaska took the watch until midnight. crag stood guard the remainder of the night to allow nagel and larkwell a full night's rest. while the others slept, crag brooded at the port. once he ran his hand over his face, surprised at the hardness. all bone and no flesh, he thought. he looked toward the north wall of arzachel. in a few short hours drone charlie would come blazing over the rim, and red dog snapping at its heels. chapter 14 "adam crag was not a god-fearing man," the minister stated. his tone implied that crag had been just the opposite. "not a bit like his parents. the best family guidance in the world, yet he quit sunday school almost before he got started. i doubt that he's ever been to church since." he looked archly at the agent. "perhaps a godless world like the moon is just retribution." a garage mechanic, a junk dealer and the proprietor of a tool shop had a lot to say about adam crag. so did the owner of a small private airport. they remembered him as a boy with an insatiable appetite for tearing cars apart and converting them to what the junk dealer termed "supersonic jalopies." many people in el cajon remembered adam crag. strangely enough, his teachers all the way back through grade school had little difficulty in recalling his antics and attitudes. an elementary teacher explained it by saying, "he was that kind of a boy." the family doctor had the most to say about adam. he had long since retired, a placid seventyish man who had elected to pass his last years in the same house, in an older section of the town, in which he'd been born. he sat swinging and talking, reminiscing about "the growing up of young adam," as he put it. the agent had made himself at home on the front steps, listening. the doctor's comments were little short of being an eulogy. he finished and was silent, tapping a black briar pipe against his hand while he contemplated the agent with eyes which had long since ceased to see. "one other thing," he added finally. "adam was sure a heller with the girls." the agent started to comment that crag's dossier looked like the roll call of a girl's dormitory but refrained. he didn't want to prejudice the testimony. * * * * * zero hour on the plains of arzachel. the sun, an intolerably brilliant ball pasted against the ebony sky, had started its drop toward the horizon. the shadows on the plain were lengthening, harbingers of the bitter two-weeks-long night to come. they crept out from the sheer wall of the crater, reaching to engulf pickering base with icy fingers. crag and prochaska were alone, now, in the stripped cabin of the aztec. nagel and richter, under larkwell's command, had departed for bandit an hour earlier with the last of their supplies. crag disliked splitting the crew but saw no alternative. he had to gamble. the element of certainty, the ability to predict, the expectations of logic--all these had vanished, swept away by the vagaries of chance. they could do only so much. beyond that their fate was pawn to the chaotic cross fires of human elements pitted against the architecture of the cosmos. they were puppets in the last lottery of probability. prochaska broke the silence: "it's going to be close." crag's eyes remained riveted to the instruments. drone charlie and red dog were plunging through space separated by a scant half-hour's flight time. despite the drone's long launch lead, the gap between the two rockets had been narrowed to a perilous point. drone charlie was decelerating rapidly, her braking rockets flaring spasmodically to slow her headlong flight. "we'd better get into our suits," crag said finally. "we want to get out of this baby the second charlie lets down." prochaska nodded. they left their suits unpressurized for the time being to allow full mobility. in the moments ahead prochaska, in particular, couldn't afford to be hampered by the rigidity the suit possessed when under pressure. they turned back to the control panel. charlie was hurtling over alphons, dropping toward the bleak lunar landscape with incredible speed. the mechanical voice from alpine droned a stream of data. there was a rapid exchange of information between prochaska and alpine. at its conclusion he began taking over control of the drone. crag watched tensely. prochaska's fingers, even though encased in the heavy suit material, moved with certainty. in a little while he spoke without looking up. "got it," he said laconically. he studied the instruments, then his fingers sought the buttons controlling charlie's forward braking rockets. crag thought: _this is it._ within scant moments the drone had covered the sky over the tangled land lying between alphons and arzachel. it swept over the brimming cliffs at a scant two thousand feet. he saw the rocket through the forward ports. white vapor flared from its nose rockets. the chief had it under full deceleration. the cloud of vapor covered its body. prochaska moved the steering control and the rocket slanted upward at ever-increasing angle of climb. crag strained his neck to keep it in sight. he thought its rate of climb was too rapid but prochaska seemed unperturbed. his calm approach to the problem of landing the drone gave crag renewed confidence. all at once, it seemed, drone charlie was hanging high in the sky, a tapered needle miraculously suspended in the heavens. then it began dropping ... dropping. bursts of smoke and white vapor shot from its tail jets, becoming continuous as the rocket hurtled toward the plain. the drone was lost to sight in its own clouds, but he charted its progress by the vapor spurts at its lower edge. prochaska was draining the tail braking jets of every ounce of energy. suddenly the rocket gave the illusion of hanging in mid-air. the gap between it and the stark terrain below seemed to have stopped closing. crag half expected the blasting stern tubes to begin pushing the drone back into the sky. but ... no! it was moving down again, slowly. prochaska moved another control. a servo-mechanism within the rocket stirred to life and a spidery metal network moved out from its tail housing. the drone dropped steadily, ever slower, and finally settled. the shock-absorbing frame folded, was crushed. at the same instant prochaska silenced its rockets. it settled down, its tail tubes pushed into the plain's powdery ash scarcely a mile from the aztec. "perfect." prochaska sounded pleased with himself. his thin face broke into a satisfied smile. "nice going," crag agreed. "now let's get out of this trap." his eyes lingered for an instant on the analog. red dog had already cleared ptolemaeus. he snapped his face plate shut, clicked on the interphone and turned the oxygen valve. his suit began to swell and grow rigid against his body. when they were pressurized, he opened the hatch and they clambered out onto the plain. he closed the hatch behind them and struck off in the direction of bandit with the chief at his heels. they moved as rapidly as possible. their feet in the heavy insulated space boots kicked up small fountains of dust which dropped as quickly as they rose. from time to time crag looked back toward the brimming cliffs. prochaska plodded head down. his quickened breathing in the interphones sounded harsh to crag. plainly the long hours of monitoring the aztec's instruments had made him soft. the microphone in his helmet came to life. it was larkwell. "red dog's cleared the rim," he told them. crag glanced back. his eyes caught the wispish trail of white vapor high above the cliffs before he saw the rocket itself. it was already in vertical attitude, letting down amid a cloud of white vapor from its stern braking rockets. "all hands disconnect their interphones," he commanded. "from here on out we operate in silence." the red dog interphone system might or might not be on the same band they used. he wasn't about to take that risk. "okay," larkwell acknowledged. "we're shutting off." crag remembered that the german's interphones were still connected. slip one. he decided to leave his own open--at least he'd be forewarned if anyone tried to alert the red dog crew. he turned back toward the rocket. red dog was dropping about two or three miles from the aztec in the direction of the wrecked baker. white smoke and flame poured from its stern tubes. it slowed visibly as it neared the lunar surface. he thought that a plumb bob dropped through the long axis of the rocket would form a right angle with the surface of arzachel. pilot's good, he thought. he watched until it touched down teetering on its stern tubes for a moment before coming to rest; then he turned and hurried to overtake prochaska. the chief's face behind his mask was covered with perspiration. he panted heavily. crag beckoned him to follow and moved behind a low swale of rock where they would be safe from detection. the nose of bandit jutted into the sky about a mile ahead of them. he motioned toward it, gesturing for prochaska to go on. the chief nodded understanding and struck off. crag turned and began climbing a low rocky ridge that now lay between him and red dog. he stopped just below its crest and searched for a safe vantage point. to his right a serrated rock structure extended up over the backbone of the ridge. he angled toward it, then followed the outcropping to a point where he could see the plain beyond. red dog had its tail planted in the ash about three miles distant. minute figures milled at its base, small blobs of movement against the crater floor. no sounds broke the silence of crag's open interphones. he took this as a sign that the red dog sets operated on a different band. but he couldn't be sure. the tremendous advantage of having communication with his own men must be discarded. his vigil was rewarded a few moments later when the blobs around red dog's base began moving in the direction of the aztec. it struck him that they couldn't see the rocket from their present position due to small intervening hillocks, although both baker and charlie were clearly visible. he decided the aztec's horizontal position had tipped them to its identity while they were still space-borne. one of the red dog crewmen, obviously the leader, drew ahead of his companions. the other two seemed to be struggling with some object they carried between them. they moved close together, halting from time to time. he returned his gaze to the rocket, conjecturing that another crewman would have remained behind. if so, he was in the space cabin. the ship seemed lifeless. the landing party approached a small ridge overlooking the aztec, bringing them closer to his lookout. he saw that the two men following the leader were having difficulty with their burden. they walked slowly, uncertainly, pausing from time to time. the lead man started up the rocky knoll overlooking the aztec. his movements were slow, wary. he crouched near the top of the ridge, scanning the plain beyond before waving to his companions to follow. the gesture told crag that their interphones were disconnected. the crewmen near the base of the knoll started climbing, moving with extreme difficulty. he watched them, wondering, until they reached the leader. they stood for a moment scouting the plain, then two of the men crouched over the burden they had lugged up the knoll. a weapon, crag guessed. he tried to discern its shape but failed. a few moments later one of the men stepped back. a puff of white rose from the knoll. a trail of vapor shot toward the aztec. a portable rocket launcher! his eyes tracked the missile's flight. the vapor trail terminated at its target. an instant later the aztec disintegrated. black chunks of the rocket hurtled into the lunar skies, becoming lost to sight. within seconds only a jagged few feet of broken torn metal marked the site of man's first successful landing on the moon. _wow, what a weapon_, he thought. it didn't merely push a hole in the aztec. it disintegrated it, completely. that was one for gotch. he filed the thought away and watched. the figures on the knoll searched the scene for a long time. finally they turned and started back, carrying the rocket launcher with them. the act of saving the weapon told him that red dog carried more rockets than just the single shot fired--a disconcerting thought. he cautiously withdrew from his post and picked his way down the ridge toward bandit, moving as rapidly as the rough terrain permitted. everything now depended on the next move of the red dog's crew, he thought. one thing was certain--there would be no quarter shown. the ruthless destruction of the aztec had set the pattern for the coming battle of arzachel. it was a declaration of war with all rules of human warfare discarded. well, that was okay with him. he was breathing heavily by the time he reached a spot overlooking bandit. nagel had decompressed the cabin and they were waiting for him with the hatch open. he crossed the clearing and a moment later was in the space cabin. he watched the gauge until it was safe to cut off his suit pressure and open his face plate. he looked at richter; his face was blank. tersely, then, he related what had happened. "i sort of expected that," prochaska said quietly when he had finished. "it was the logical way." "logical to attempt to murder men?" nagel asked bitterly. "entirely logical," crag interjected. "the stakes are too big for a few human lives to matter. at least we've been warned." he turned to prochaska. "disconnect richter's mikes until this show's over." the chief nodded. richter stood quietly by while his lip microphone was disconnected and withdrawn from the helmet. nagel's face showed satisfaction at the act, but larkwell's expression was wooden. crag said, "defense of bandit will be under prochaska's command." he looked grimly at his second-in-command. "your fort has one automatic rifle. make it count if you have to use it." the chief nodded. larkwell spoke up, "how about you?" "i'll be scouting with the other automatic rifle. stay in your suits and keep ready. if they start to bring up the rocket launcher i'll signal. if that happens you'll have to get out of here, pronto. you'd better check your oxygen," he added as an afterthought. "if they think we're dead ducks they won't be toting the launcher," prochaska said. "we hope." crag exchanged his oxygen cylinder for a fresh one, then checked one of the automatic rifles, slipping two extra clips in his belt. on second thought he hooked a spare oxygen cylinder to the back straps. he nodded to nagel, snapped his face plate shut and pressurized his suit. when the cabin was decompressed, he opened the hatch, scanning the knoll carefully before descending to the plain. he struck off toward the ridge overlooking red dog. the ground on this side of the spur was fairly flat and he made good time, but was panting heavily by the time he reached his lookout point on the crest. chapter 15 crag sighted the red dog party immediately--three figures plodding in single file toward drone baker. he saw with satisfaction that they had discarded the rocket launcher. he took that as a sign they believed the aztec crew dead. he found a halfway comfortable sitting position, and settled back to await developments. the distant figures moved across the plain with maddening slowness. from time to time he returned his eyes to the enemy rocket. it showed no signs of life. once he debated taking the gamble of trying to reach it, but as quickly discarded the idea. caught on the open plain and he'd be a gone gosling. he waited. after what seemed a long while, the invaders reached a point overlooking drone baker. one of the figures remained on a small rise overlooking the drone while the other two separated and approached it from different directions. the tactic disquieted him. it indicated that the newcomers were not entirely convinced that they were alone in crater arzachel. after another interminably long time, the two figures approaching the rocket met at its base. they walked around the rocket several times, then struck out, this time toward drone charlie. their companion left his lookout point and cut across the plain to join them. crag squirmed uncomfortably. he was tired and hungry; his muscles ached from the constriction of the suit. his body was hot and clammy, and perspiration from his brow stung his eyes. he sighed, wishing he had a cigarette. strange, he hadn't smoked in over a year but all at once the need for tobacco seemed overwhelming. he pushed the thought aside. the invaders were strung out in single file, moving in a direction which brought them closer to his position. he shifted to a point below the crest, moving slowly to avoid detection. their path crossed his field of vision at a distance of about half a mile. at the closest point he saw they carried rifles in shoulder slings. he took this as another indication they suspected the presence of survivors. the invaders stopped and rested at a point almost opposite him. he fidgeted, trying to get his body into a more comfortable position. finally they resumed their trek. before they reached the drone they halted. one man remained in the cover of a spur of rock while the other two separated and advanced on the drone from different directions. crag cursed under his breath. they certainly weren't going to be sitting ducks. perhaps it was just a precaution. simply good infantry tactics, he told himself, but it still raised a complication. he waited. the two invaders closed on the drone, meeting at its base. they evidently decided it was abandoned, for they left within a few minutes walking to join their waiting companion. after a short huddle they struck out in the direction of bandit. this was the move he had waited for. he withdrew to the lee side of the ridge and picked his way toward bandit as rapidly as possible, taking care not to brush against the sharp slivers of rock. he drew near the rocket, thinking that the open hatch would be a dead giveaway. still, there was no alternative. a fort without a gunport was no fort at all. he climbed to a spot close to the crest of the ridge and peered back in the direction of the invaders, startled to find they were nearer than he had supposed. he hastily withdrew his head, deciding it was too late to warn the others to abandon the rocket. if the invaders climbed straight up the opposite side of the ridge, they conceivably could catch his crew on the open plain. that made another complication. he scanned the ridge. off to his right a series of granite spurs jutted from the base rock in finger formation. he picked his way toward them, then descended until he found shelter between two rock outcroppings which gave him a clear view of bandit. he checked his automatic rifle, moving the control lever to the semi-automatic position. the black rectangle that marked bandit's hatch seemed lifeless. he waited. long minutes passed. he cursed the eternal silence of the moon which robbed him of the use of his ears. a cannon could fire within an inch of his back and he'd never know it, he thought. he moved his head slightly forward from time to time in an effort to see the slope behind him. nothing happened. his body itched intolerably from perspiration. he readjusted the suit temperature setting, gaining a slight respite from the heat. all at once he caught movement out of the corner of his face plate and involuntarily jerked his head back. he waited a moment, aware that his heart was pounding heavily, then cautiously moved forward. one of the invaders was picking his way down the slope in a path that would take him within thirty yards of his position. the man moved slowly, half-crouched, keeping his rifle cradled across his arm. they know, he thought. the open hatch was the giveaway. he anxiously searched bandit. no sign of life was visible. he gave silent thanks that the invaders had not lugged their rocket launcher with them. prochaska, he knew, would be watching, crouched in the shadow of the hatch opening behind the heavy automatic rifle. he estimated the distance between the base of the slope and the rocket at 400 yards--close enough for prochaska to pick off anyone who ventured onto the plain. he waited while the invader passed abreast of him and descended to the base of the plain, taking cover in the rocks. he halted there and looked back. a few moments later crag saw the second of the invaders moving down the slope about a hundred yards beyond his companion. he, too, stopped near the base of the rocks. where was the third man? the same technique they used before, crag decided. he would be covering his companions' advance from the ridge. that made it more difficult. he studied the two men at the edge of the plain. it looked like a stalemate. they either had to advance or retreat. their time was governed by oxygen. if they advanced, they'd be dead pigeons. prochaska couldn't miss if they chose to cross the clearing. as it was, neither side could get a clear shot at the distance separating them, although the invaders could pour a stream of shells into the open hatch. but prochaska would be aware of that danger and would have taken refuge to one side of the opening, he decided. there was another complication. the shells were heavy enough to perforate the rocket. well, he'd worry about that later. he moved his head for a better view of the invaders. the man nearest him had gotten into a prone position and was doing something with the end of his rifle. crag watched, puzzled. suddenly the man brought the rifle to his shoulder, and he saw that the end of the muzzle was bulged. rifle grenade! damn, they'd brought a regular arsenal. if he managed to place one in the open hatch, the bandit crew was doomed. heedless of the other two red dog crewmen, he stepped out between the shoulders of rock to gain freedom of movement and snapped his own weapon to his shoulder. he had trouble fitting his finger into the trigger guard. the enemy was spraddled on his stomach, legs apart, adjusting his body to steady his weapon. crag moved his weapon up, bringing the prone man squarely into his sights. he squeezed the trigger, feeling the weapon jump against his padded shoulder, and leaped back into the protective cover of rock. something struck his face plate. splinter of rock, he thought. the watcher on the ridge hadn't been asleep. he dropped to his knees and crawled between the rock spurs to gain a new position. the sharp needle fragments under his hands and knees troubled him. one small rip and he'd be the late adam crag. he finally reached a place where he could see the lower end of the ridge. the man he'd shot was a motionless blob on the rocky floor, his arms and legs pulled up in a grotesque fetal position. the vulnerability of human life on the moon struck crag forcibly. a bullet hole anywhere meant sudden violent death. a hit on the finger was as fatal as a shot through the heart. once air pressure in a suit was lost a man was dead--horribly dying within seconds. a pinhole in the suit was enough to do it. his eyes searched for the dead man's companions. the ridge and plain seemed utterly lifeless. bandit was a black canted monolith rising above the plain, seeming to symbolize the utter desolation and silence of crater arzachel. for a moment he was fascinated. the very scene portended death. it was an eery feeling. he shook it off and waited. he was finally rewarded by movement. a portion of rock near the edge of the plain seemed to rise--took shape. the dead man's companion had risen to a kneeling position, holding his rifle to his shoulder. crag raised his gun, wondering if he could hold the man in his sights. a hundred and fifty yards to a rifleman clothed in a cumbersome space suit seemed a long way. before he could pull the trigger, the man flung his arms outward, clawing at his throat for an instant before slumping to the rocks. it took crag a second to comprehend what had happened. prochaska had been ready. a figure suddenly filled the dark rectangle of bandit, pointing toward the ridge behind crag. he apparently was trying to tell him something. crag scanned the ridge. it seemed deserted. he turned toward bandit and motioned toward his faceplate. the other understood. his interphones crackled to life. prochaska's voice was welcome. "i see him," he broke in. "he's moving up the slope to your right, trying to reach the top of the ridge. too far for a shot," he added. crag scrambled into a clearing and scanned the ridge, just in time to see a figure disappear over the skyline. he started up the slope in a beeline for the crest. if he could reach it in time, he might prevent the sniper from crossing the open plain which lay between the ridge and red dog. cops and robbers, he thought. another childhood game had suddenly been recreated, this time on the bleak plain of an airless alien crater 240,000 miles from the sunny southern california lands of his youth. crag reached the ridge. the plain on the other side seemed devoid of life. in the distance the squat needle that was red dog jutted above the ashy plain, an incongruous human artifact lost on the wastelands of the moon. only its symmetry distinguished it from the jagged monolithic structures that dotted this end of the crater floor. he searched the slope. movement far down the knoll to his right caught his eye. the fugitive was trying to reach a point beyond range of crag's weapon before cutting across the plain. he studied the terrain. far ahead and to the left of the invader the crater floor became broken by bizarre rock formations of backbone ridge--a great half-circle which arced back toward red dog. he guessed that the fantastic land ahead was the fugitive's goal. he cut recklessly down the opposite slope and gained the floor of the crater before turning in the direction he had last seen the invader. he cursed himself for having lost sight of him. momentarily, he slowed his pace, thinking he was ripe for a bushwhacking job. his eyes roved the terrain. no movement, no sign of his quarry. he moved quickly, but warily, attempting to search every inch of the twisted rock formations covering the slope ahead. his eye detected movement off to one side. at the same instant a warning sounded in his brain and he flung himself downward and to the side, hitting the rough ground with a sickening thud. he sensed that the action had saved his life. he crawled between some rock outcroppings, hugging the ground until he reached a vantage point overlooking the area ahead. he waited, trying to search the slope without exposing his position. minutes passed. he tossed his head restlessly. his eyes roved the plain, searching, attempting to discern movement. no movement--only a world of still life-forms. the plain--its rocks and rills--stretched before him, barren and endless. strange, he thought, there should be vultures in the sky. and on the plain creosote bushes, purple sage, cactus ... coyotes and rattlesnakes. but ... no! this was an other-world desert, one spawned in the fires of hell--a never-never land of scalding heat and unbelievable cold. he thought it was like a painting by some mad artist. first he had sketched in the plain with infinite care--a white-black, monotonous, unbroken expanse. afterward he had splashed in the rocks, painting with wild abandon, heedless of design, form or structure, until the plain was a hodgepodge of bizarre formations. they towered, squatted, pierced the sky, crawled along the plain like giant serpents--an orgy in rock without rhyme or reason. somewhere in the lithic jungle his quarry waited. he would flush him out. he thought that the sniper must be getting low on oxygen. he couldn't afford to waste time. he had to reach red dog soon--if he were to live. crag checked his oxygen meter and began moving forward, conscious that the chase would be governed by his oxygen supply. he'd have to remember that. he reached a clearing on the slope just as the sniper disappeared into the rock shadows on the opposite side. he hesitated. would the pursued man be waiting ... covering the trail behind him? he decided not to chance crossing it and began skirting around its edge, fretting at the minutes wasted. his earphones crackled and prochaska's voice came, a warning through the vacuum: "nagel says your oxygen must be low." he glanced at the indicator on his cylinder. still safe. he studied the rocks ahead and told prochaska: "i've got to keep this baby from reaching red dog." "watch yourself. don't go beyond the point of no return." prochaska's voice held concern. "stop worrying." crag pushed around the edge of the clearing with reckless haste. it was hard going and he was panting heavily long before he reached the spot where he had last seen the sniper. he paused to catch his breath. the slope fell away beneath him, a miniature kingdom of jagged needle-sharp rock. there was no sign of the fugitive. the plain, too, was devoid of life. he descended to the edge of the clearing and picked his way through the debris of some eon-old geologic catastrophe. ahead and to the left of the ridge, the plain was broken by shallow rills and weird rock outcroppings. farther out backbone ridge began as low mounds of stone, becoming twisted black stalagmites hunched incongruously against the floor of the crater, ending as jagged sharp needles of rock curving over the plain in a huge arc. a moment later he caught sight of his quarry. the invader had cut down to the edge of the plain, abandoning the protection of the ridge, making a beeline for the nearest rock extrusion on the floor of the crater. too far away for a shot. crag cursed and made a quick judgment, deciding to risk the open terrain in hopes of gaining shelter before the sniper was aware of his strategy. he abandoned the protection of the slope and struck out in a straight line toward the distant mounds on the floor of the crater, keeping his eyes on the fugitive. they raced across the clearing in parallel paths, several hundred yards apart. the sniper had almost reached the first rocks when he glanced back. he saw crag and put on an extra burst of speed, reaching the first rocks while crag was still a hundred yards from the nearest mound. crag dropped to the ground, thankful that it was slightly uneven. at best he'd make a poor target. he crawled, keeping his body low, tossing his head in an effort to shake the perspiration from his eyes. "how you doing, skipper?" it was prochaska. lousy, crag thought. he briefed him without slowing his pace. the ashy plain just in front of him spurted in little fountains of white dust. he dropped flat on his belly with a gasp. "you all right?" "okay," crag gritted. "this boy's just using me for target practice." prochaska's voice became alarmed. he urged him to retreat. "we can get them some other way," he said. "not if they once get that launcher in operation. i'm moving on." there was a moment of silence. "okay, skipper, but watch yourself." his voice was reluctant. "and watch your oxygen." "roger." he checked his gauge and hurriedly switched to the second cylinder. now he was on the last one. the trick would be to stretch his oxygen out until the chase was ended--until the man ahead was a corpse. he clung to the floor of the crater, searching for shelter. the ground rose slightly to his right. he crawled toward the rise, noting that the terrain crested high enough to cut his view of the base of the rocks. satisfied that he was no longer visible, he began inching his way toward the nearest mounds. chapter 16 crag studied the scene. he lay at one end of the great crescent of rock forming backbone ridge, the other end of which ended about half a mile from red dog. the floor of the crater between the rocket and the nearest rock formations was fairly level and unbroken. the arced formation itself was a veritable jungle of rocks of every type--gnarled, twisted rock that hugged the ground, jutting black pinnacles piercing the sky, bizarre bubble formations which appeared like weird ebony eskimo cities, and great fantastic ledges which extruded from the earth at varying angles, forming black caves against their bases. whole armies could hide there, he thought. only the fugitive couldn't hide. oxygen was still the paramount issue. he'd have to thread his way through the terrible rock jungle to the distant tip of the crescent, then plunge across the open plain to the rocket if he hoped to survive. the distance between the horns of the crescent appeared about three miles. he pondered it thoughtfully, then got on the interphones and outlined his plan to prochaska. "okay, i know better than to argue," the chief said dolefully when he had finished. "but watch your oxygen." damn the oxygen, crag thought irritably. he studied the labyrinth of rock into which his quarry had vanished, then rose and started across the plain in a direct line for the opposite tip of the crescent. the first moments were the hardest. after that he knew he must be almost out of range of the sniper's weapon. perhaps, even, the other had not seen his maneuver. he forced himself into a slow trot, his breath whistling in his ears and his body sodden inside his suit. perspiration stung his eyes, his leg muscles ached almost intolerably, and every movement seemed made on sheer will power. the whimsical thought crossed his mind that gotch had never painted this side of the picture. nor was it mentioned in the manual of space survival. he was thankful that the plain between the two tips of the crescent was fairly even. he moved quickly, but it was a long time before he reached the further tip of the crescent. he wondered if he had been observed from red dog. well, no matter, he thought. he had cut the sniper's sole avenue of escape. victory over his quarry was just a matter of time, a matter of waiting for him to appear. he picked a vantage point, a high rocky ledge which commanded all approaches to his position. after briefing prochaska, he settled back to wait, thinking that the fugitive must be extremely low on oxygen. long minutes passed. once or twice he thought he saw movement among the rocks and started to lift his rifle; but there was no movement. illusions, he told himself. his eyes were playing him tricks. the bizarre sea of rocks confronting him was a study in black and white--the intolerable light of sun-struck surfaces contrasting with the stygian blackness of the shadows. his eyes began to ache and he shifted them from time to time to shut out the glare. he was sweating again and there was a dull ache at the back of his head. precious time was fleeing. he'd have to resolve the chase--soon. all at once he saw movement that was not an illusion. he half rose, raising his rifle when dust spurted from the ground a few feet to his left. he cursed and threw himself to the ground, rolling until he was well below the ridge. one thing was certain: the sniper had the ridge well under control. the red dog watcher must have warned him, he thought. he looked around. off to one side a small rill cut through the rocks running in the sniper's general direction. he looked back toward the ridge, hesitated, then decided to gamble on the rill. he moved crablike along the side of the slope until he reached its edge and peered over. the bottom was a pool of darkness. he lowered himself over the edge with some misgivings, searching for holds with his hands and feet. his boot unexpectedly touched bottom. crag stood for a moment on the floor of the rill. his body was clothed in black velvet shadows but it was shallow enough to leave his head in the sunlight. he moved cautiously forward, half expecting the sniper to appear in front of him. his nerves were taut, edgy. _relax, boy, you're strung like a violin_, he told himself. _take it easy._ a bend in the rill cut off the sun leaving him in a well of blackness. he hadn't counted on that. before he'd moved another dozen steps he realized the rill wasn't the answer. he'd have to chance getting back into the open. more time was lost. he felt the steep sides until he located a series of breaks in the wall, then slung his rifle over his shoulder and inched upward until his head cleared the edge. the sun's sudden glare blinded him. involuntarily he jerked his head sideways, almost losing his hold in the process. he clung to the wall for a moment before laboriously pulling his body over the edge. he lay prone against the rocks, half-expecting to be greeted by a hail of bullets. he waited quietly, without moving, then carefully raised his head. off to one side was a series of mounds. he crawled toward them without moving his belly from the ground. when he reached the first one, he half rose and scuttled forward until he found a view of the twisted rocks where he had last seen the sniper. the scene ahead was a still-life painting. it seemed incongruous that somewhere among the quiet rocks death moved in the form of a man. he decided against penetrating further into the tangle of rocks. he'd wait. he settled back, conscious that time was fleeing. "skipper, are you checking your oxygen?" the chief's voice rattled against his eardrums. it was filled with alarm. "listen, i have no time--" crag started to growl. his words were clipped short as his eyes involuntarily took the reading of his oxygen gauge. low ... low. he calculated quickly. he was well past the point of no return--too low to make the long trip back to bandit. he was done, gone, a plucked gosling. he had bought himself a coffin and he'd rest there for all eternity--boxed in by the weird tombstones of crater arzachel. adam crag--the man in the moon. he grinned wryly. well, at least his quarry was going with him. he wouldn't greet his maker empty handed. he tersely informed prochaska of his predicament, then recklessly moved to a high vantage point and scanned the rocks beyond. he had to make every second count. light and shadow ... light and shadow. somewhere in the crisscross of light and shadow was a man-form, a blob of protoplasm like himself, a living thing that had to be stamped out before the last of his precious oxygen was gone. he was the executioner. somewhere ahead a doomed man waited in the docks ... waited for him to come. they were two men from opposite sides of the world, battling to death in hell's own backyard. only he'd win ... win before he died. he was scanning the rocky tableau when the sniper moved into his field of vision, far to one side of crag's position. he was running with short choppy steps, threading between the rocks toward red dog. his haste and apparent disregard of exposing himself puzzled crag for a moment, then he smiled grimly. almost out of oxygen, he thought. well, that makes two of us. but he still had to make sure his quarry died. the thought spurred him to action. he turned and scrambled back toward the tip of backbone ridge to cut the sniper's escape route. he reached the end rocks and waited. a few moments later he sighted a figure scrambling toward him. he raised his rifle thinking it was too far for a shot, then lowered it again. the sniper began moving more slowly and cautiously, then became lost to sight in a maze of rock outcroppings. crag waited impatiently, aware that precious moments were fleeing. he was afraid to look at his gauge, plagued by the sense of vanishing moments. time was running out and eternity was drawing near--near to adam crag as well as the sniper. the rocks extended before him, a kaleidoscopic pattern of black and white. somewhere in the tortuous labyrinth was the man he had to kill before he himself died. he watched nervously, trying to suppress the tension pulling at his muscles. a nerve in his cheek twitched and he shook his head without removing his eyes from the rocks ahead. still there was no sign of the other. who was the stalker and who was the stalked? the question bothered him. perhaps even at that instant the sniper was drawing bead. then he'd be free to reach red dog--safety. crag decided he couldn't wait. he'd have to seek the other out, somehow flush him from cover. he looked around. off to one side a shelf of black rock angled incongruously into the sky. its sides were steep but its top would command all approaches to the tip of the crescent. he made his way to the base of the shelf and began scrambling up its steep sides, finding it difficult to manage toe and hand holds. he slipped from time to time, hanging desperately on to keep himself from rolling back to the rocks below. just below the top he rested, panting, fighting for breath, conscious of his heart thudding in his ears. he had to hurry! slowly, laboriously he pulled himself up the last few feet and lay panting atop the shelf, none too soon. the sniper scrambled out of the rocks a scant hundred yards from crag's position. he raised his rifle, then hesitated. the red dog crewman had fallen to his hands and knees and was fighting to rise. he pushed his hands against the plain in an attempt to get his feet under him. crag lowered his rifle and watched curiously. the sniper finally succeeded in getting to his feet. he stood for a moment, weaving, before moving toward crag's shelf with a faltering zigzag gait. crag raised the rifle and tried to line the sights. he had difficulty holding the weapon steady. he started to pull the trigger when the man fell again. crag hesitated. the sniper floundered in the ash, managed to pull himself half-erect. he weaved with a few faltering steps and plunged forward on his face. crag watched for a moment. there was no movement. the black blob of the suit lay with the stillness of the rocks in the brazen heat of the crater. so that's the way a man dies when his oxygen runs out, he thought. he just plops down, jerks a little and departs, with as little ceremony as that. he grinned crookedly, thinking he had just watched a rehearsal of his own demise. he watched for a moment longer before turning his face back toward the plain. red dog was a bare half-mile away--a clear level half-mile from the tip of backbone ridge. that's how close the sniper had come to living. he mulled the thought with a momentary surge of hope. red dog? why not? if he could shoot his way into the space cabin he'd live ... live. the thought galvanized him to action. he slung his rifle over his shoulder and scrambled down the slope heedless of the danger of ripping his suit. he could make it. he had to make it! he gained the bottom and paused to catch his breath before starting toward the rocket. a glance at his oxygen meter told him that the race was futile. still, he forced his legs into a run, threading through the rocks toward the floor of the crater. he reached the tip of the crescent panting heavily and plunged across the level floor of the plain. his legs were leaden, his lungs burned and sweat filled his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision. still he ran. the rocket rose from the crater floor, growing larger, larger. he tried to keep in a straight path, aware that he was moving in a crazy zigzag course. the rocket loomed bigger ... bigger. it appeared immense. caution, he told himself, there's an hombre up there with a rifle. he halted, feeling his body weave, and tried to steady himself. high up in the nose of red dog the hatch was a dancing black shadow--black with movement. he pulled the rifle from his shoulder and moved the control to full automatic, falling to his knees as he did so. strange, the ashy floor of the crater was erupting in small fountains just to his side. danger, he thought, take cover. the warning bells were still ringing in his brain as he slid forward on his stomach and tried to steady his weapon. dust spurted across his face plate. the black rectangle of the hatch danced crazily in his sights. he pulled back on the trigger, feeling the heavy weapon buck against his shoulder, firing until the clip was empty. his fingers hurriedly searched his belt for the spare clips. gone. somehow he'd lost them. he'd have to rush the rocket. he got to his feet, weaving dizzily, and forced his legs to move. once or twice he fell, regaining his feet with difficulty. he heard a voice. it took him a minute to realize it was his own. he was babbling to prochaska, trying to tell him ... the sky was black. no, it was white, dazzling white, white with heat, red with flame. he saw red dog with difficulty. the rocket was a hotel, complete with room clerk. he laughed inanely. a single, please. no, i'll only be staying for the night. he fell again. this time it took him longer to regain his feet. he stumbled ... walked ... stumbled. his eyes sought the rocket. it was weaving, swaying back and forth. foolish, he thought, there was no wind in crater arzachel. no air, no wind, no nothing. nothing but death. wait, there was someone sitting on top of the rocket--a giant of a man with a long white beard. he watched crag and smiled. he reached out a hand and beckoned. crag ran. the sky exploded within his brain, his legs buckled and he felt his face plate smash against the ashy floor. for all eternity, he thought. the blackness came. * * * * * adam crag opened his eyes. he was lying on his back. above him the dome of the sky formed a great black canopy sprinkled with brilliant stars. his thoughts, chaotic memories, gradually stabilized and he remembered his mad flight toward red dog. this couldn't be death, he thought. spirits didn't wear space suits. he sensed movement and twisted his head to one side. gordon nagel! the oxygen man's face behind the heavy plate was thin, gaunt, but he was smiling. crag thought that he had never seen such a wonderful smile. nagel's lips crinkled into speech: "i was beginning to wonder when you'd make it." even his voice was different, crag thought. the nasal twang was gone. it was soft, mellow, deep with concern. he thought it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. "thanks, gordon," he said simply. he spoke the words thinking it was the first time he'd ever addressed the other by his first name. "how'd you ever locate me?" "started early," nagel said. "i was pretty sure you'd push yourself past the point of no return. you seemed pretty set on getting that critter." "it's a wonder you located me." he managed to push himself to a sitting position. "prochaska didn't think i could. but i did. matter of fact, i was pretty close to you when you broke from the rocks heading for red dog." red dog! crag twisted his head and looked toward the rocket. "he's lying at the base of the rocket," nagel said, in answer to his unspoken question. "your last volley sprayed him." "skipper!" prochaska's voice broke impatiently into his earphones. "still alive," crag answered. "yeah--just." prochaska's voice was peevish. "you were lucky with that last burst of fire." "thanks to my good marksmanship," crag quipped weakly. "i wish you'd quit acting like a company of marines and get back here." "okay, colonel." prochaska cursed and crag grinned happily. it was good to be alive, even in crater arzachel. nagel helped him to his feet and crag stood for a moment, feeling the strength surge back into his body. he breathed deeply, luxuriating in the plentiful oxygen. fresh oxygen. fresh as a maiden's kiss, he thought oxygen was gold. more than gold. it was life. "ready, now?" "ready as i ever will be," crag answered. "lead on, gordon." they had almost reached bandit when crag broke the silence. "why did you come ... to the moon, gordon?" nagel slowed his steps, then stopped and turned. "why did you come, commander?" "because ... because ..." crag floundered. "because someone had to come," he blurted. "because i was supposed to be good in my field." his eyes met nagel's. the oxygen man was smiling, faintly. "i'm good in mine, too," he said. he chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. "i could give the same reasons as you," he said finally. "truthfully, though, there's more to it." he looked at crag defiantly. "i was a misfit on earth, commander. a square peg in a round hole. i had dreams ... dreams, but they were not the dreams of earth. they were dreams of places in which there were no people." he gave an odd half-smile. "of course i didn't tell the psych doctors that." "there's plenty i didn't tell 'em, myself," crag said. "commander, you might not understand this but ... i like the moon." he looked away, staring into the bleakness of arzachel. crag's eyes followed his. the plain beyond was an ash-filled bowl broken by weird ledges, spires, grotesque rocks. in the distance backbone ridge crawled along the floor of the basin, forming its fantastic labyrinths. yet ... yet there was something fascinating, almost beautiful about the crater. it was the kind of a place a man might cross the gulfs of space to see. nagel had crossed those gulfs. yes, he could understand. "i'll never return to earth," he said, almost dreamily. "nonsense." "not nonsense, commander. but i'm not unhappy at the prospect. do you remember the lines: _under the wide and starry sky oh, dig the grave and let me lie ..._ well, that's the way i feel about the moon." "you'll be happy enough to get back to earth," crag predicted. "i won't get back, commander. don't want to get back." he turned broodingly toward bandit. "maybe we'd better move on," crag said gently. "i crave to get out of this suit." chapter 17 "martin larkwell was a good boy," the superintendent said reminiscently, "and of course we're highly pleased he's made his mark in the world." he looked at the agent and beamed. "or should i say the moon?" the agent smiled dutifully. "young martin was particularly good with his hands. not that he wasn't smart," he added hurriedly. "he was very bright, in fact, but he was fortunate in that he coupled it with an almost uncanny knack of using his hands." the superintendent rambled at length. the agent listened, thinking it was the same old story. the men in the moon were all great men. they had been fine, upstanding boys, all bright with spotless records. well, of course that was to be expected in view of the rigorous weeding out program which had resulted in their selections. only one of them was a traitor. which one? the question drummed against his mind. "martin wasn't just a study drudge," the superintendent was saying. "he was a fine athlete. the star forward of the maple hill orphanage basketball team for three years," he added proudly. he leaned forward and lowered his voice as if taking the agent into his confidence. "we're conducting a drive to build the orphanage a new gym. maybe you can guess the name we've selected for it?" "the martin larkwell gymnasium," the agent said drily. "right." the superintendent beamed. "that's how much we think of martin larkwell." as it turned out, the superintendent wasn't the only one who remembered martin larkwell with fondness. a druggist, a grocer, a gas station operator and a little gray lady who ran a pet shop remembered the orphan boy with surprising affection. they and many others. that's the way the chips fall, the agent thought philosophically. let a man become famous and the whole world remembers him. well, his job was to separate the wheat from the chaff. in the days to follow he painstakingly traced martin larkwell's trail from the maple hill orphanage to new york, to various construction jobs along the east coast and, finally, through other agents, to a two-year stint in argentina as construction boss for an american equipment firm. later the trail led back to america and, finally, to construction foreman on project step one. his selection as a member of the aztec crew stemmed from his excellent work and construction ability displayed during building of the drones. all in all, the agent thought, the record was clear and shiny bright. martin larkwell, gordon nagel, max prochaska, adam crag--four eager scrub-faced american boys, each outstanding in his field. there was only one hitch. who was the traitor? * * * * * crag filled gotch in on the latest developments in crater arzachel. the colonel listened without interruption until he was through, then retaliated with a barrage of questions. what was the extent of the radioactive field? what were the dimensions of red dog? had any progress been made toward salvaging the cargo of drone baker? how was the airlock in the rill progressing? would he please describe the rocket launcher the enemy had used to destroy the aztec? crag gritted his teeth to keep from exploding, barely managing civil replies. finally he could hold it no longer. "listen," he grated, "this is a four-man crew, not a damn army." "certainly," gotch interrupted, "i appreciate your difficulties. i was just--in a manner of speaking--outlining what has to be done." "as if i didn't know." the colonel pressed for his future plans. crag told him what he thought in no uncertain terms. when he finished he thought he heard a soft chuckle over the earphones. damn gotch, he thought, the man is a sadist. the colonel gave him another morsel of information--a tidbit that mollified him. pickering field, gotch informed him, was now the official name of the landing site in crater arzachel. furthermore, the air force was petitioning the joint chiefs to make it an official part of the u.s. air force defense system. a fact which had been announced to the world. furthermore, the united states had petitioned the u.n. to recognize its sovereignty over the moon. before cutting off he added one last bit of information, switching to moon code to give it. "_atom job near completion_," he spelled out. for the moment crag felt jubilant. an atom-powered space ship spelled complete victory over the eastern world. it also meant venus ... mars ... magical names in his mind. man was on his way to the stars. man--the peripatetic quester. for just an instant he felt a pang of jealousy. he'd be pinned to his vacuum while men were conquering the planets. or would he? but the mood passed. pickering field, he realized, would play an important role in the future of space flight. if it weren't the stars, at least it was the jump-off. in time it would be a vast air force base housing rockets instead of stratojets. pickering base--the jump-off--the road to the stars. pretty soon the place would be filled with rank so high that the bird colonels would be doing mess duty. but right now, he was mr. pickering field, the man with the brass eyeballs. while the others caught up on their sleep, crag and prochaska reviewed their homework, as the chief had dubbed their planning sessions. the area in which bandit rested was too far from the nearest rill to use as a base of operation, and it was also vulnerable to meteorite damage. bandit had to be abandoned, and soon. red dog would be their next home. there was also the problem of salvaging the contents of drone baker and removing the contents of drone charlie. last, there was the problem of building the airlock in one of the rills. when they had laid out the problems, they exchanged quizzical glances. the chief smiled weakly. "seems like a pretty big order." "a very big order," crag amended. "the first move is to secure red dog." they talked about it until crag found his eyelids growing heavy. prochaska, although tired, volunteered to take the watch. crag nodded gratefully--a little sleep was something he could use. * * * * * red dog was squat, ebony, taper-nosed, distinguishable from the lithic structures dotting this section of crater arzachel only by its symmetry. the grotesque rock ledges, needle-sharp pinnacles and twisted formations of the plain clearly were the handiwork of a nature in the throes of birth, when volcanoes burst and the floor of the crater was an uneasy sea of white-hot magmatic rock. red dog was just as clearly the creation of some other-world artificer, a creature born of the intelligence and patience of man, structured to cross the planetary voids. yet it seemed a part of the plain, as ancient as the brooding dolomites and diorites which made the floor of arzachel a lithic wonderland. the tail of red dog was buried in the ash of the plain. its body reached upward, canted slightly from the vertical, as if it were ready to spring again to the stars. the rocket launcher had been removed. now it stood on the plain off to one side of the rocket, small and portable, like some deadly insect. the launcher bothered crag. he wanted to destroy it--or the single missile that remained--but was deterred by its possible use if the enemy should land another manned ship. in the end he left it where it was. one of the numerous rills which crisscrossed the floor of the crater cut near the base of the rocket at a distance of about ten yards. it was a shallow rill, about twelve feet wide and ten feet deep, with a bottom of soft ash. adam crag studied the rocket and rill in turn, a plan gradually forming in his mind. the rocket could be toppled, its engines removed and an airlock installed in the tail section, as had been done with the aztec. it could be lowered into the rill and its body, all except the airlock, covered with ash. materials salvaged from the drones could be used to construct extensions running along the floor of the rill and these, in turn, covered with ash. this, then, would be the first moonlock, a place where man could live, safe from the constant danger of destruction by chance meteorites. he looked thoughtfully at the sun. it was an unbearable circle of white light hanging in the purple-black sky just above the horizon. giant black shadows crept out from the towering walls of the crater. within another twenty-four hours they would engulf the rocket. during the lunar night--two weeks long--the crater floor would be gripped in the cold of absolute space; the rocket would lie in a stygian night broken only by the brilliance of the stars and the reflected light of an earth which would seem to fill the sky. but they couldn't wait for the advent of a new day. they would have to get started immediately. larkwell opposed the idea of working through the long lunar night. he argued that the suits would not offer sufficient protection against the cold, they needed light to work, and that the slow progress they would make wouldn't warrant the risks and discomfort they would have to undergo. nagel unexpectedly sided with crag. he cited the waste of oxygen which resulted by having to decompress bandit every time someone left or entered the ship. "we need an airlock, and soon," he said. crag listened and weighed the arguments. larkwell was right. the space suits weren't made to withstand prolonged exposure during the bitter hours of the lunar night. but nagel was right, too. "i doubt if we could live cooped up in bandit for two weeks without murdering one another," prochaska observed quietly. "i vote we go ahead." "sure, you sit on your fanny and monitor the radio," larkwell growled. "i'm the guy who has to carry the load." prochaska reddened and started to answer when crag cut in: "cut the damned bickering," he snapped. "max handles the communication because that's his job." he looked sharply at larkwell. the construction boss grunted but didn't reply. * * * * * night and bitter cold came to crater arzachel with a staggering blow. instantly the plain became a black pit lighted only by the stars and the enormous crescent of the earth--an airless pit in which the temperature plunged until metal became as brittle as glass and the materials of the space suits stiffened until crag feared they would crack. larkwell warned against continuing their work. "one misstep in lowering red dog and it'll shatter like an egg." crag realized he was right. lowering the rocket in the bitter cold and blackness would be a superhuman job. loss of the rocket would be disastrous. against this was the necessity of obtaining shelter from the meteor falls. his determination was fortified by the discovery that a stray meteorite had smashed the nose of drone charlie. he decided to go on. the cold seeped through their suits, chilled their bones, touched their arms and legs like a thousand pin pricks and lay like needles in their lungs until every movement was sheer agony. yet their survival depended upon movement, hence every moment away from bandit was filled with forced activity. but even the space cabin of bandit was more like an outsized icebox than a place designed for human habitation. the rocket's insulated walls were ice to the touch, their breaths were frosty streams--sleep was possible only because of utter fatigue. at the end of each work shift the body simply rebelled against the task of retaining consciousness. thus a few hours of merciful respite against the cold was obtained. crag assigned prochaska the task of monitoring the radio despite his plea to share in the more arduous work. the knowledge that one of his crew was a saboteur lay constantly in his mind. he had risked leaving prochaska alone before, he could risk it again, but he wasn't willing to risk leaving any of the others alone in bandit. yet, prochaska hadn't found the bomb! larkwell had worked superhumanly at the task of rebuilding the aztec--nagel had saved his life when he could just as easily have let him die. neither seemed the work of a saboteur. yet the cold fact remained--there was a saboteur! richter, too, preyed on his mind. the self-styled eastern scientist was noncommittal, speaking only when spoken to. yet he performed his assigned duties without hesitation. he had, in fact, made himself so useful that he almost seemed one of the crew. that, crag told himself, was the danger. the tendency was to stop watching richter, to trust him farther and farther. was he planning, biding his time, preparing to strike? how? when? he wished he knew. * * * * * they toppled red dog in the dark of the moon. larkwell had run two cables to manually operated winches set about twenty-five yards from the rocket. a second line extended from each winch to the ravine. the ends of these were weighted with rocks. they served to anchor the winches during the lowering of the rocket. finally a guide line ran from the nose of the rocket to a third winch. richter and nagel manned the lowering winches while larkwell worked with the guide line, with only small hand torches to aid them. it was approximately the same setup used on the aztec--they were getting good at it. crag helped until the moment came to lower the rocket, then there was little for him to do. he contented himself with watching the operation, playing his torch over the scene as he felt it was needed. it was an eery feeling. the rocket was a black monster bathed in the puny yellow rays of their hand torches. the pale light gave the illusion of movement until the rocket, the rocks, and the very floor of the crater seemed to writhe and squirm, playing tricks on the eyes. it was, he knew, a dangerous moment, one ripe for a saboteur to strike--or ripe for richter. it was dark. not an ebony dark but one, rather, with the odd color of milky velvet. the earth was almost full, a gigantic globe whose reflected light washed out the brilliance of the stars and gave a milky sheen to crater arzachel. it was a light in which the eye detected form as if it were looking through a murky sea. it detected form but missed detail. only the gross structures of the plain were visible: the blackness of the rocket reaching upward into the night; fantastic twisted rocks which blotted out segments of the stars; the black blobs of men moving in heavy space suits, dark shadows against the still darker night. the eery almost futile beams of the hand torches seemed worse than useless. "all set." larkwell's voice was grim. "let her come." crag fastened his eyes on the nose of red dog, a tapered indistinct silhouette. "start letting out line at the count of three." there was a pause before larkwell began the countdown. "one ... two ... three...." the nose moved, swinging slowly across the sky, then began falling. "slack off!" the lines jerked, snapped taut, and the nose hung suspended in space, then began swinging to one side. "take up on your line, richter." the sideward movement stopped, leaving the rocket canted at an angle of about forty-five degrees. "okay...." the nose moved down again, slower this time. crag began to breathe easier. suddenly the nose skidded to the rear, falling, then the rocket was a motionless blob on the plain. "that did it." larkwell's voice was ominous, yet tinged with disgust. "what happened?" crag found himself shouting into the lip mike. "the tail slipped. that's what we get for trying to lower it under these conditions," larkwell snarled. "the damn thing's probably smashed." crag didn't answer. he moved slowly toward the rocket, playing his torch over its hull in an attempt to discern its details. he was conscious that the others had come up and were doing the same thing, but even when he stood next to it red dog was no more than a black shadow. "feel it," larkwell barked, "that's the only way to tell. the torches are useless." they followed his advice. crag walked alongside the rocket, moving his hand over the smooth surface. he had reached the tail and started back on the opposite side when larkwell's voice rang in his ears. "smashed!" "where?" "the under side--where she hit the deck. looks like she came down on a rock." crag hurried back around the rocket, nearly stumbling over larkwell's legs. the construction boss was lying on his stomach. "under here." crag dropped to his knees, then to his stomach and moved alongside larkwell, playing his beam over the hull. he saw the break immediately, a ragged, gaping hole where the metal had shattered against a small rock outcropping. too big for a weld? larkwell answered his unspoken thought. "you'll play hell getting that welded." "it might be possible." "there may be more breaks." they lay there for a moment playing their beams along the visible underside of red dog until they were satisfied that, in this section at least, there was no more damage. "what now?" larkwell asked, when they had crawled back from under the rocket. "the plans haven't changed," crag said stonily. "we repair it ... fix it up ... move in. that's all there is to it." "you can't fix it by just saying so," larkwell growled. "first it's got to be fixable. it looks like a cooked duck, to me." "we gotta start back," nagel said urgently, "oxygen's getting low." crag looked at his gauge. nagel was right. they'd have to get moving. he was about to give the signal to return to bandit when richter spoke up. "it can be repaired." for a moment there was a startled silence. "how?" "the inside of the cabin is lined with foam rubber, the same as in bandit--a self-sealing type designed for protection against meteorite damage." "so...?" larkwell asked belligerently. richter explained, "it's not porous. if the break were covered with metal and lined with the foam, it would do a pretty good job of sealing the cabin." "you can't patch a leak that big with rubber and expect it to hold," larkwell argued. "hell, the pressure would blow right through." "not if you lined the break with metal first," richter persisted. the suggestion startled crag, coming as it did from a man whom he regarded as an enemy. for a moment he wondered if the german's instinct for survival were greater than his patriotism. but the plan sounded plausible. he asked larkwell: "what do you think?" "could be," he replied noncommittally. he didn't seem pleased that richter was intruding in a sphere which he considered his own. crag gave a last look at the silhouette of the fallen giant on the plain and announced: "we'll try it." "if it doesn't work, we're in the soup," larkwell insisted. "suppose there are more breaks?" "we'll patch those, too," crag snapped. he felt an unreasonable surge of anger toward the construction boss. he sucked his lip, vexedly, then turned his torch on his oxygen meter. "we'd better get moving." chapter 18 colonel michael gotch looked at the agent across the narrow expanse of his battered desk, then his eyes fell again to the dockets. four dockets, four small sheaves of paper, each the capsuled story of a man's life. the names on the dockets were literally burned into his mind: adam philip crag, martin leroy larkwell, gordon wells nagel, max edward prochaska. four names, four men, four separate egos who, by the magic of man, had been transported to a bleak haven on another world. four men whose task was to survive an alien hell until the u.n. officially recognized the united states' claim to sovereignty over the stark lands of the moon. but one of the men was a saboteur, an agent whose task was to destroy the western claim to ownership by destroying its occupancy of the moon. that would leave the east free to claim at least equal sovereignty on the basis that it, too, had established occupancy in a lunar base. the agent broke into his thoughts. "i'd almost stake my professional reputation he's your man." he reached over and tapped one of the dockets significantly. "the word, the single word, that's what you used to tell me to watch for. well, the single word is there--the word that spells traitor. i'd gone over his record a dozen times before i stumbled on it." he ceased speaking and watched the colonel. "you may be right," gotch said at last. "that's the kind of slip i'd pounce on myself." he hesitated. "go on," the agent said, as if reading his thoughts. "there's one thing i didn't tell you because i didn't want to prejudice your thinking. the psychiatrists agree with you." "the psychiatrists?" the agent's brow furrowed in a question. "they've restudied the records exhaustively, ever since we first knew there was a saboteur in the crew. "they've weighed their egos, dissected their personalities, analyzed their capabilities, literally taken them apart and put them together again. i got their report just this morning." gotch looked speculatively at the agent. "your suspect is also their choice. only there is no traitor." "no traitor?" the agent started visibly. "i don't get you." "no traitor," gotch echoed. "this is a tougher nut than that. the personality profile of one man shows a distinct break." he looked expectantly at the agent. "a plant." the agent muttered, the words thoughtfully. "a ringer--a spy who has adopted the life role of another. that indicates careful planning, long preparation." he muttered the words aloud, talking to himself. "he would have had to cover every contingency--friends, relatives, acquaintances, skills, hobbies--then, at an exact time and place, our man was whisked away and he merely stepped in." he shook his head. "that's the kind of nut that's really tough to crack." "crack it," gotch said. the agent got to his feet "i'll dig him out," he promised savagely. * * * * * the drive to rehabilitate red dog became a frenzy in crag's mind. he drove his crew mercilessly, beset by a terrible sense of urgency. nor did he spare himself. they rigged lines in the dark of the moon and rotated the rocket on its long axis until the break in the hull was accessible. crag viewed it with dismay. it was far longer than he had feared--a splintered jagged hole whose raw torn edges were bent into the belly of the ship. they finally solved the problem by using the hatch door of drone charlie as a seal, lining it with sheets of foam from bandit, whose interior temperature immediately plummeted to a point where it was scarcely livable. prochaska bore the brunt of this new discomfort. confined as he was to the cabin and with little opportunity for physical activity, he nearly froze until he took to living in his space suit. crag began planning the provisioning of red dog even before he knew it could be repaired. during each trip from bandit he burdened the men with supplies. between times he managed to remove the spare oxygen cylinders carried in drone charlie. there was still a scant supply in drone baker, but he decided to leave those until later. the problems confronting him gnawed at his mind until each small difficulty assumed giant proportions. each time he managed to fit the work into a proper mental perspective a new problem or disaster cropped up. he grew nervous and irritable. in his frantic haste to complete the work on red dog he found himself begrudging the crew the few hours they took off each day for sleep. _take it easy_, he finally told himself. _slow down_, adam. yet despite his almost hourly resolves to slow down, he found himself pushing at an ever faster pace. complete red dog ... complete red dog ... became a refrain in his mind. larkwell grew sullen and surly, snapping at richter at the slightest provocation. nagel became completely indifferent, and in the process, completely ineffectual. crag had long realized that the oxygen man had reached his physical limits. now, he knew, nagel had passed them. maybe he was right ... maybe he wouldn't leave the moon. when the break in red dog was repaired, crag waited, tense and jittery, while nagel entered the rocket and pressurized it. it'll work, he told himself. it's got to work. the short period nagel remained in the rocket seemed to extend into hours before he opened the hatch. "one or two small leaks," he reported wearily. he looked disconsolately at crag. "maybe we can locate them--with a little time." "good." crag nodded, relieved. another crisis past. he ordered larkwell to start pulling the engines. if things went right.... the work didn't progress nearly as fast as he had hoped. for one thing, the engines weren't designed for removal. they were welded fast against cross beams spread between the hull. consequently, the metal sides of the ship were punctured numerous times before the job was completed. each hole required another weld, another patch, and increased the danger of later disaster. crag grew steadily moodier. larkwell seemed to take a vicious satisfaction out of each successive disaster. he had adopted an i-told-you-so attitude that grated crag's nerves raw. surprisingly enough, richter proved to be a steadying influence, at least to crag. he worked quietly, efficiently, seeming to anticipate problems and find solutions before even crag recognized them. despite the fact that he found himself depending on the german more and more, he was determined never to relax his surveillance over the man. richter was an enemy--a man to be watched. larkwell and nagel were lackadaisically beginning work on the ship's airlock when prochaska came on the interphones with an emergency call. "gotch calling," he told crag. "he's hot to get you on the line." crag hesitated. "tell him to go to hell," he said finally. "i'll call him on the regular hour." "he said you'd say that," prochaska informed him amiably, "but he wants you now." another emergency--another hair-raiser. _gotch is a damn ulcer-maker_, crag thought savagely. "okay, i'm on my way," he said wearily. "anything to keep him off my back." "can i tell him that?" "tell him anything you want," crag snapped. he debated taking the crew with him but finally decided against it. they couldn't afford the time. reluctantly he put the work party in larkwell's charge and started back across the bowl of the crater, each step a deliberate weighted effort. so much to do. so little time. he trudged through the night, cursing the fate that had made him gotch's pawn. gotch was crisp and to the point. "another rocket was launched from east of the caspian this morning," he told him. "jesus, we need a company of marines." "not this time, adam." "oh ..." crag muttered the word. "that's right ... a warhead," gotch confirmed. crag kicked the information around in his mind for a moment. "what do the computers say?" "too early to say for sure, but it looks like it's on the right track." "unless it's a direct hit it's no go. we got ten thousand foot walls rimming this hell-hole." the colonel was silent for a moment. "it's not quite that pat," he said finally. "why not?" "because of the low gravity. thousands of tons of rock will be lifted. some will escape but the majority will fall back like rain. they'll smash down over a tremendously large area, adam. at least that's what the scientists tell us." "okay, in four days we'll be underground," he said with exaggerated cheerfulness, "as safe as bunnies in their burrows." "can you make it that fast?" "we'll have to. that means well have to use prochaska. that'll keep you off the lines except for the regular broadcast hour," he said with satisfaction. gotch snorted: "go to hell." "been on the verge of it ever since we left earth." "one other thing," gotch said. "baby's almost ready to try its wings." the atomic spaceship! crag suppressed his excitement with difficulty. he held down his voice. "about time," he said laconically. "don't give me that blasé crap," the colonel said cheerfully. "i know exactly how you feel." he informed him that the enemy was proclaiming to the world they had established a colony on the moon, and had formally requested the united nations to recognize their sovereignty over the lunar world. "how's that for a stack of hogwash?" he ended. "pretty good," crag agreed. "what are we claiming?" "the same thing. only we happen to be telling the truth." "how will the u.n. know that?" "we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, adam. just keep alive and let us worry about the u.n." "i'm not going to commit suicide if that's what you're thinking." "you can--if you don't keep on your toes." "meaning...?" "the saboteur...." his voice fell off for a moment. "i've been wanting to talk with you about that, adam. we have a lead. i can't name the man yet because it's pretty thin evidence. just keep on your toes." "i am. i'm a grown boy, remember?" "more than usual," gotch persisted. "the enemy is making an all-out drive to destroy pickering base. you can be sure the saboteur will do his share. the stage is set, adam." "for what?" "for murder." "not this lad." "don't be too cocky. remember the blue door episode? you're the key man ... and that makes you the key target. without you the rest would be a cinch." "i'll be careful," crag promised. "doubly careful," gotch cautioned. "don't be a sitting duck. i think maybe we'll have a report for you before long," he added enigmatically. "if the warhead doesn't get us," crag reminded him. "and thanks for all the good news." he laughed mirthlessly. they exchanged a few more words and cut off. he turned to prochaska, weighing his gaunt face. "you get your wish, max. climb into your spaceman duds and i'll take you for a stroll. as of now you're a working man." "yippee," prochaska clowned, "i've joined the international ranks of workers." crag's answering grin was bleak. "you'll be sorry," he said quietly. chapter 19 the earth was no longer a round full ball. it was a gibbous mass of milk-white light, humpbacked, a twisted giant in the sky whose reflected radiance swept the lunar night and dimmed even the brightest of the stars. its beacon swept out through space, falling in crater arzachel with a soft creamy sheen, outlining the structures of the plain with its dim glow. larkwell and nagel had finished the airlock. the rocket had been tested and, despite a few minute leaks they had failed to locate, the space cabin was sufficiently airtight to serve their purpose. but the rocket had still to be lowered into the rill. larkwell favored waiting for the coming sun. "it's only a few more days," he told crag. "we can't wait." "we smashed this baby once by not waiting." "well have to risk it," crag said firmly. "why? we're not that short of oxygen." crag debated. sooner or later the others would have to be told about the new threat from the sides. that morning gotch had given him ominous news. the computers indicated it was going to be close. very close. he looked around. they were watching him, waiting for him to give answer to larkwell's question. he said softly: "okay, i'll tell you why. there's a rocket homing in with the name arzachel on its nose." "more visitors?" the plaintive query came from nagel. crag shook his head negatively. "we've got arms," prochaska broke in confidently. he grinned "we'll elect you commander of the first arzachel infantry company." "this rocket isn't manned." "no?" "it's a warhead," crag said grimly, "a nuclear warhead. if we're not underground when it hits...." he left the sentence dangling and looked around. the masked faces were blank, expressionless. it was a moment of silence, of weighing, before larkwell spoke. "okay," he said, "we drop her into the hole." he turned back and gazed at red dog. nagel didn't move. he kept his eyes on crag, seemingly rooted to the spot until prochaska touched his arm. "come on, gordon," he said kindly. "we've got work to do." only then did the oxygen man turn away. crag had the feeling he was in a daze. they worked four hours beyond the regular shift before crag gave the signal to stop. the cables had been fastened to red dog--the winches set. now it was poised on the brink of the rill, ready for lowering into the black depths. crag was impatient to push ahead but he knew the men were too tired. even the iron-bodied larkwell was faltering. it would be too risky. yet he only reluctantly gave the signal to start back toward bandit. they trudged across the plain--five black blobs, five shadows plodding through a midnight pit. crag led the way. the earth overhead gleamed with a yellow-green light. the stars against the purple-black sky were washed to a million glimmering pinpoints. the sky, the crater, the black shadows etched against the blacker night bespoke the alienage of the universe. arzachel was the forgotten world. more, a world that never was. it was solid matter created of nothingness, floating in nothingness, a minute speck adrift in the terrible emptiness of the cosmos. he shivered. it was an eery feeling. he reached bandit and waited for the others to arrive. prochaska, fresher than the others, was first on the scene. he threw a mock salute to crag and started up the ladder. larkwell and richter arrived moments later. he watched them approach. they seemed stooped--like old men, he thought--but they gave him a short nod before climbing to the space cabin. he was beginning to worry before nagel finally appeared. the oxygen man was staggering with weariness, barely able to stand erect. crag stepped aside. "after you, gordon." "thanks, skipper." crag anxiously watched while gordon pulled his way up the rope ladder. he paused halfway and rested his head on his arms. after a moment he resumed the climb. crag waited until he reached the cabin before following. could nagel hold out? could a man die of sheer exhaustion? the worry nibbled at his mind. maybe he should give him a day's rest--let him monitor the communicator. or just sleep. as it was his contribution to their work was nil. he did little more than go through the motions. crag debated the problem while they pressurized the cabin and removed their suits. what would gotch do? gotch would drive him till he died. that's what gotch would expect him to do. no, he couldn't be soft. even nagel's slight contribution might make the difference between success or failure. life or death. he would have to ride it out. crag set his lips grimly. he had felt kinder toward the oxygen man since that brief period when nagel had let him peer into his mind. now ... now he felt like his executioner. just when he was beginning to understand the vistas of nagel's being. but understanding and sympathizing with nagel made his task all the more difficult. impatiently he pushed the problem from his mind. there were other, bigger things he had to consider. like the warhead. larkwell was getting out their rations when prochaska slumped wordlessly to the floor. crag leaped to his side. the chief's face was white, drawn, twisted in a curious way. crag felt bewildered. odd but his brain refused to function. he was struggling to make himself think when he saw nagel leap for his pressure suit. understanding came. he shouted to the others and grabbed for his own garments. he fought a wave of dizziness while he struggled to get them on. his fingers were heavy, awkward. he fumbled with the face plate for long precious seconds before he managed to pull it shut and snap on the oxygen. nagel had finished and was trying to dress prochaska. crag sprang to help him. together they managed to get him into his suit and turn on his oxygen. only then did he speak. "how did we lose oxygen, gordon?" "i don't know." he sounded frightened. "a slow leak." he got out his test equipment and fumbled with it. the others watched, waiting nervously until he finally spoke. "a very slow leak. must have been a meteorite strike." "can you locate it?" nagel shrugged in his suit "it'll take time--and cost some oxygen." crag looked at him and decided he was past the point of work. past, even, the point of caring. "we'll take care of it," he said gently. "get a little rest, gordon." "thanks, skipper." nagel slumped down in one of the seats and buried his head in his arms. before long prochaska began to stir. he opened his eyes and looked blankly at crag for a long moment before comprehension came to his face. "oxygen?" "probably a meteorite strike. but it's okay ... now." prochaska struggled to his feet "well, i needed the rest," he joked feebly. the leak put an end to all thoughts of rations. they would have to remain in their suits until it was found and repaired. at crag's suggestion nagel and larkwell went to sleep. more properly, they simply collapsed in their suits. richter, however, insisted on helping search for the break in the hull. crag didn't protest; he was, in fact, thankful. it was prochaska who found it--a small rupture hardly larger than a pea in one corner of the cabin. "meteorite," he affirmed, examining the hole. "we're lucky it hasn't happened before." they patched the break and repressurized the cabin, then tested it. pressure remained constant. crag gave a sigh of relief and started to shuck his suit. richter followed his example but prochaska hesitated, standing uncertainly. "makes you leery," he said. "the chances of another strike are fairly low," crag encouraged. "i feel the same way but we can't live in these duds." he finished peeling off his garments and prochaska followed suit. despite his fatigue sleep didn't come easy to crag. he tossed restlessly, trying to push the problems out of his mind. just before he finally fell asleep thought of the saboteur popped into his mind. i'll be a sitting duck, he told himself. he was trying to pull himself back to wakefulness when his body rebelled. he slept. * * * * * they prepared to lower red dog into the rill. earth was humpbacked in the sky, almost a crescent, with a bright cone of zodiacal light in the east. the light was a herald of the coming sun, a sun whose rays would not reach the depths of crater arzachel for another forty-eight hours. in the black pit of the crater the yellow torches of the work crew played over the body of the rocket, making it appear like some gargantuan monster pulled from the depths of the sea. it was poised on the brink of the rill with cables encircling its body, running to winches anchored nearby. the cables would be let out, slowly, allowing the rocket to descend into the depths of the crevice. larkwell on the opposite side of the rill manned a power winch rigged to pull the rocket over the lip of the crevice. "ready on winch one?" his voice was a brittle bark, edgy with strain. nagel spoke up. "ready on winch one." "ready on winch two?" "ready on winch two," prochaska answered. "here we go." the line from red dog to larkwell's winch tautened, jerked, then tautened once more. red dog seemed to quiver, and began rolling slowly toward the brink of the rill. crag watched from a nearby spur of rock. he smiled wryly. lowering rockets on the moon was getting to be an old story. the cables and winches all seemed familiar. well, this would be the last one they'd have to lower. he hoped. richter stood beside him, silent. the rocket hung on the lip of the crevice for a moment before starting over. "take up slack." the lines to the anchor winches became taut and the rocket hung, half-suspended in space. "okay." larkwell's line tightened again and the rocket jerked clear of the edge, held in space by the anchor winches. "lower away--slowly." crag moved to the edge of the rill, conscious of richter at his heels. the man's constant presence jarred him; yet, he was there by his orders. he played his torch over the rocket. it was moving into the rill in a series of jerks. its tail struck the ashy floor. in another moment it rested at the bottom of the crevice. they would make it. a wave of exultation swept him. the biggest problems could be whipped if you just got aboard and rode them. well, he'd ridden this one--ridden it through a night of stygian blackness and unbelievable cold. ridden it to victory despite damnable odds. he felt jubilant. but they would have to hurry if they were to get all their supplies and gear moved from bandit before the warhead struck. they still had to cover red dog, burying it beneath a thick coat of ash. would that be enough? it was designed to protect them from the dangers of meteorite dust, but would it withstand the rain of hell to come when the warhead struck? wearily he pushed the thought from his mind. when the others had secured their gear, he gave the signal to return to bandit. they struck out, trudging through the blackness in single file, following a serpentine path between the occasional rills and knolls scattered between the two ships. crag swung his arms in an effort to keep warm. tiny needles of pain stabbed at his hands and feet, and the cold in his lungs was an agony. even in the darkness the path between the rockets had become a familiar thing. despite the discomfort and weariness he rather liked the long trek between the rockets. it gave him time to think and plan, a time when nothing was demanded of him except that he follow a reasonably straight course. there was no warhead, no east world menace, no gotch. there was only the blackness and the solitude of crater arzachel. he even liked the blackness of the lunar night, despite its attendant cold. the mantle of darkness hid the crater's ugliness, erasing its menacing profile and softening its features. he turned his eyes skyward as he walked. the earth was huge, many times the size of the full moon as seen from its mother planet, yet it seemed fragile, delicate, a pale ethereal wanderer of the heavens. crag did not think of himself as an imaginative man. yet when he beheld the earth something stirred deep within him. the earth became not a thing of rock and sea water and air, but a living being. he thought of earth as _she_. at times she was a ghost treading among the stars, a waif lost in the immensity of the universe. and at times she was a wanton woman, walking in solitary splendor, her head high and proud. the stars were her lovers. crag walked through the night, head up, wondering if ever again he would answer her call. he had almost reached bandit when nagel's voice broke excitedly into his earphones. "something's wrong with prochaska!" crag stopped in his tracks, gripped by a sudden fear. "what?" "he was somewhere ahead of me. i just caught up to him...." "what's wrong with him?" crag snapped irritably. damn, wouldn't the man stop beating around the bush? "he's collapsed." "coming," crag said. he hurried back through the darkness, cursing himself for having let the party get strung out. "too late, commander." it was richter's voice. "his suit's deflated. must have been a meteorite strike." "stay there," crag ordered. "larkwell...?" "i'm backtracking too...." they were all there when he arrived, gathered around prochaska's huddled form. the yellow lights of their torches pinned his body against the ashy plain. larkwell, on his knees, was running his hands over the electronic chief's body. crag dropped to his side. "here it is!" larkwell's fingers had found the hole, a tiny rip just under the shoulder. crag examined it, conscious that something was wrong. it didn't look like the kind of hole a meteorite would make. it looked, he thought, like, a small rip. the kind of a rip a knife point might make. he stared up at larkwell. the construction boss's eyes met his and he nodded his head affirmatively. crag got to his feet and faced the german. "where were you when this happened?" "ahead of him," richter answered. "we were strung out. i think i was next in line behind you." larkwell said softly: "you got here before i did. that would put you behind me." "i was ahead of you when we started." the german contemplated larkwell calmly. "i didn't see you pass me." crag turned to nagel. "where were you, gordon?" "at the rear, as usual." his voice was bitter. "how far was prochaska ahead of you?" "i wouldn't know." he looked away into the blackness, then back to crag. "would you expect me to?" crag debated. clearly he wasn't getting anywhere with the interrogation. he looked at nagel. the man seemed on the verge of collapse. "we'll carry max back. lend a hand, richter." his voice turned cold. "i want to examine that rip in the light." the german nodded calmly. "stay together," crag barked. "no stringing out larkwell, you lead the way." "okay." the construction boss started toward bandit. nagel fell in at his heels. crag and richter, carrying prochaska's body between them, brought up at the rear. it took the last of crag's strength before they managed to get the body into the space cabin. the men were silent while he conducted his examination. he removed the dead man's space suit, then stripped the clothing from the upper portion of his body, examining the flesh in the area where the suit had been punctured. the skin was unmarked. he studied the rip carefully. it was a clean slit. "no meteorite," he said, getting to his feet. his voice was cold, dangerously low. larkwell's face was grim. nagel wore a dazed, almost uncomprehending expression. richter looked thoughtful. crag's face was an icy mask but his thoughts were chaotic. fear crept into his mind. this was the danger gotch had warned him of. richter? the saboteur? his eyes swung from man to man, coming finally to rest on the german. while he weighed the problem, one part of his mind told him a warhead was scorching down from the sides. time was running out. he came to a decision. he ordered larkwell and richter to strip the pressure gear from prochaska's body and carry it down to the plain. "well bury him later--after the warhead." "if we're here," larkwell observed. "i have every intention of being here," crag said evenly. chapter 20 the day of the warhead arrived. the earth was a thin crescent in the sky whose light no longer paled the stars. they gleamed, hard and brittle against the purple-black of space, the reds and yellows and brilliant hot blues of suns lying at unimaginable distances in the vast box of the universe. night still gripped crater arzachel with its intolerable cold, but a zodiacal light in the sky whispered of a lunar dawn to come. measured against the incalculable scale of space distances the rocket had but a relative inch to cross. that inch was almost crossed. the rocket's speed had dropped to a mere crawl before it entered the moon's gravitational field; then it had picked up again, moving ever faster toward its rendezvous with destruction. now it was storming down into the face of the land. they buried red dog. larkwell had improvised a crude scraper made of metal strips from the interior of drone baker to aid in the task. he attached loops of cable to pull it. crag, larkwell and richter wearily dragged the scraper across the plain, heaping the ash into piles, while nagel handled the easier job of pushing them over the edge of the rill. the unevenness of the plain and occasional rock outcroppings made the work exasperatingly slow. crag fumed but there was little he could do to rectify the situation. it took the better part of eight hours before the rill was filled level with the plain, with only the extreme end of the tail containing the airlock being left accessible. "won't do a damn bit of good if anything big comes down," larkwell observed when they had finished. "there's not much chance of a major hit," crag conjectured. "it's the small stuff that worries me." "bandit would be just as safe," larkwell persisted. "perhaps." he turned away from the construction boss. richter was swinging his arms and stamping his feet in an effort to keep warm. nagel sat dejectedly on a rock, head buried in his arms. crag felt a momentary pity for him--a pity tinged with resentment. nagel was the weak link in their armor--a threat to their safety. for all practical purposes two men--he didn't include richter--were doing the work of three. yet, he thought, he couldn't exclude the german. the oxygen and supplies he consumed were less than those they had obtained from bandit and red dog. and richter worked--worked with a calm, relentless purpose--more than made up for nagel's inability to shoulder his share. maybe richter was a blessing in disguise. he smiled grimly at the thought. but we're all shot, he told himself--all damned tired. someone had to be the first to cave in. so why not nagel? he looked skyward. the stars reminded him of glittering chunks of ice in some celestial freezebox. he moved his arms vigorously, conscious of the bitter cold gnawing at his bones--sharp needles stabbing his arms and legs. he was cold, yet his body felt clammy. he became conscious of a dull ache at the nape of his neck. thought of the warhead stirred him to action. "we gotta fill this baby," he said, speaking to no one in particular. "oxygen ... food ... gear. there's not much time left." larkwell snickered. "you can say that again." crag said thinly: "well make it." he looked sympathetically at nagel. "come on, gordon. we gotta move." crag kept the men close together, in single file, with larkwell leading. he was followed by nagel. crag brought up at the rear. memory of prochaska's fate burned in his mind and he kept his attention riveted on the men ahead of him. they trudged through the night, slowly; wearily following the serpentine path toward bandit. he occasionally flicked on his torch, splaying it over the column, checking the positions of the men ahead of him. they rounded the end of a rill, half-circled the base of a small knoll, winding their way toward bandit. overhead altair formed a great triangle with deneb and vega. antares gleamed red from the heart of scorpius. off to one side lay sagittarius, the archer. he thought that the giant hollow of arzachel must be the loneliest spot in all the universe. he felt numbed, drained of all motion. "commander." the single imperative call snapped him to attention. "come quick. something's wrong with nagel!" crag leaped ahead, flashing his torch. he saw richter's form bent over a recumbent figure while his mind registered the fact that it was the german's voice he had heard. he leaped to his side, keeping his eyes pinned on richter until he saw the man's hands were empty. he knelt by nagel--his suit was inflated! crag breathed easier. he said briefly: "exhaustion." richter nodded. an odd rumble sounded in crag's earphones, rising and falling. it took him a moment to realize it was nagel snoring. he rose, in a secret sweat of mingled relief and apprehension, and looked down at the recumbent form, thankful they were near bandit. larkwell grunted, "gets tougher all the time." it took the three of them to get nagel back to the rocket. crag pressurized the cabin and opened the sleeping man's face plate. he continued to snore, his lips vibrating with each exhalation. while he slept they gulped down food and freshened up. when they were ready to start transferring oxygen to red dog, nagel was still out. crag hesitated, reluctant to leave him alone. the move could be fatal--if nagel were the saboteur. but if it were larkwell, he might find himself pitted against two men. the outlook wasn't encouraging. he cast one more glance at the recumbent figure and made up his mind. "he'll be out for a long time," larkwell commented, as if reading his mind. "yeah." crag replaced nagel's oxygen cylinder with a fresh one, closed his face plate and opened the pressure valve on his suit he waited until the others were ready and depressurized the cabin. he climbed down the ladder thinking he would have to return before the oxygen in nagel's cylinder was exhausted. each man carried three cylinders. when they reached red dog, larkwell scrambled down into the rill and moved the oxygen cylinders, which crag and richter lowered, into the rocket through the new airlock. they increased the load to four cylinders each on the following trip, a decision crag regretted long before they reached red dog. it was a nightmarish, body-breaking trek that left him staggering with sheer fatigue. he marveled at larkwell and richter. both were small men physically. small but tough, he thought. tough and durable. nagel was awake, waiting for them when they returned for another load. he greeted them with a slightly sheepish look. "guess i caved in." "that you did," crag affirmed. "not that i can blame you. i'm just about at that point myself." nagel spoke listlessly. "alpine sent a message." "oh?" crag waited expectantly. "colonel gotch. he said the latest figures indicated the rocket would strike south of alphons at 1350 hours." south of alphons? how far south? it would be close, crag thought maybe too close. maybe by south of alphons gotch meant arzachel. well, in that case his worries would be over. he looked at the master chrono. time for two more trips--if they hurried. * * * * * they were making their last trip to bandit. larkwell led the way with crag bringing up the rear. they trudged slowly, tiredly, haunted by the shortness of time, yet they had pushed themselves to their limit. they simply couldn't move faster. strange, crag thought, there's a rocket in the sky--a warhead, a nuclear bomb hurtling down from the vastness of space--slanting in on its target the target: adam crag and crew. if we survive this ... what next? the question haunted him. how much could they take? specifically, how much could _he_ take? he shook the mood off. he'd take what he had to take. he thought: _one more load and we'll hole up._ the prospect of ending their toil perked up his spirits. during the time of the bomb they'd sleep--sleep. sleep and eat and rest and sleep some more. halfway to bandit he suddenly sensed something wrong. richter's form, ahead, was a black shadow. beyond him, nagel was a blob of movement. he flicked his torch on, shooting its beams into the darkness beyond the oxygen man. larkwell--there was no sign of larkwell. he quickened his pace, weaving the light back and forth on both sides of their path. "larkwell?" his voice was imperative. no answer. "larkwell?" silence mocked him. richter stopped short. nagel turned, coming toward him in the night. "where's larkwell?" "he was ahead of me." it was nagel. richter shrugged. "can't see that far ahead." crag's thoughts came in a jumbled train. had larkwell been hit by a meteorite? no, they would have seen him fall. "must have drawn ahead," richter observed quietly. there was something in his voice that disturbed crag. "why doesn't he answer?" nagel cut in. "why? why?" "larkwell! larkwell, answer me!" silence. a great silence. a suspicion struck his mind. crag caught his breath, horrified at the thought. "let's get moving--fast." he struck out in the direction of bandit, forcing his tired legs into a trot. his boots struck against the plain, shooting needles of pain up his legs. his body grew sweaty and clammy, hot and cold by turn. a chill foreboding gripped him. he tried to light the way with his torch. the rocks made elusive shadows--shadows that danced, receded, grew and shortened by turn, until he couldn't discriminate between shadow and rock. he stumbled--fell heavily--holding his breath fearfully until he was re-assured his suit hadn't ripped. after that he slowed his pace, moving more carefully. his torch was a yellow eye preceding him across the plain. bandit rose before him, jutting against the stars, an ominous black shadow. he moved his light, playing it over the plain. larkwell--where was larkwell? the yellow beam caressed the rocket, wandering over its base. something was wrong--dreadfully wrong. it took him an instant to realize that the rope ladder had vanished. he swung the torch upward. its yellow beams framed larkwell's body against the hatch. "larkwell." crag called imperiously. the figure in the hatch didn't move. richter came up and stood beside him. crag cast a helpless glance at him. the german was silent, motionless, his face turned upward toward the space cabin as if he were lost in contemplation. crag called again, anger in his voice. there was a moment of silence before a voice tinkled in his earphones. "larkwell? there's no larkwell here." the words were spoken slowly, tauntingly. crag snapped wrathfully: "this is no time to be joking. toss that ladder down and make it quick." the silence mocked him for a long moment before larkwell answered. "i'm not joking, mister crag." he emphasized the word _mister_. "there is no larkwell. at least, not here." a fearful premonition came to crag. he turned toward richter. the german hadn't moved. he touched his arm and began edging back until he was well clear of the base of the rocket. nagel stood off to one side, seeming helpless and forlorn in the drama being enacted. crag marshaled his thoughts. "larkwell?" "my name is malin ... if it interest you, mister crag. igor malin." the words were spoken in a jeer. crag felt the anger well inside him. all the pent-up emotion he had suppressed since leaving earth boiled volcanically until his body shook like a leaf. the scar on his face tingled, burned, and he involuntarily reached to rub it before remembering his helmet. he waited until the first tremors had passed, then spoke, trying to keep his voice calm. "you're disturbed, larkwell. you don't know what you're doing." "no? you think not?" crag bit his lip vexedly. he spoke again: "so, you're our saboteur?" "call me that, if you wish." "and a damned traitor!" "not a traitor, mister crag. to the contrary, i have been very faithful to my country." "you're a traitor," crag stated coldly. "come, be reasonable. a traitor is one who betrays his country. you work for your side ... i work for mine. it's as simple as that." he spoke languidly but crag knew he was laughing at him. he made an effort to control his his temper. "you were born in the united states," crag pursued. "wrong again." "raised in the maple hill orphanage. i have your personnel record." "ah, that _was_ your martin larkwell." the voice taunted. "but i became martin larkwell one sunny day in buenos aires. part of, shall we say, a well planned tactic? no, i am not your martin larkwell, mister crag. and i'm happy enough to be able to shed his miserable identity." "what do you expect to gain?" crag asked. he kept his voice reasonable, hedging for time. "come, now, mister crag, you know the stakes. the moon goes to the country whose living representative is based here when the u.n. makes its decision--which should be soon. note that i said _living_." "most of the supplies are in red dog," crag pointed out. "there's enough here for one man." the voice was maddeningly bland in crag's earphones. "you won't live through the rockstorm," crag promised savagely. "the chances of a direct hit are pretty remote. you said that yourself." "maybe...." "that's good enough for me." "damn you, larkwell, you can't do this. throw that ladder down." it was nagel. again the scream came over the earphones: "throw it down, i say." "you've made a mistake," crag cut in calmly. "we can survive. there's enough oxygen in red dog." "i opened each cylinder you handed down," the man in the hatch stated matter-of-factly. "in fact, i opened all of the cylinders in red dog. sorry, mister crag, but the oxygen's all gone. soon you'll follow prochaska." "you did that?" crag's voice was a savage growl. "this is war, mister crag. prochaska was an enemy." he spoke almost conversationally. crag had the feeling that everyone was crazy. it was a fantastic mixed-up dream, a nightmare. soon he'd awaken.... "coward!" nagel screamed. "coward--damned coward!" the figure in the hatch vanished into the rocket. he's armed! crag's mind seized on die knowledge that two automatic rifles were still in bandit. he ordered the men back, alarmed. nagel stood his ground screaming maledictions. "come back, gordon," crag snapped. malin reappeared a few seconds later holding a rifle. crag snapped his torch off, leaving the plain in darkness. "move back," he ordered again. "i won't. i'm going to get into that rocket," nagel babbled. he lunged forward and was lost in the darkness before crag could stop him. "nagel, get back here! that's an order." "i won't ... i won't!" his scream was painful in crag's ears. a yellow beam flashed down from the hatch and ran over the ground at the base of the rocket. it stopped, pinning nagel in a circle of light. his face was turned up. he was cursing wildly, violently. "nagel!" crag shouted a warning. nagel shook his fist toward the hatch still screaming. flame spurted from the black rectangle and he fell, crumpled on the plain. "move further back," richter said quietly. crag stood indecisively. richter spoke more imperatively. "he's gone. move back--while you can." "happy dreams, mister crag ... and a long sleep." the hatch closed. chapter 21 nagel was dead. he lay sprawled in the ash, a pitifully small limp bundle in a deflated suit. he had gotten his wish--he would never see earth again. _under the wide and starry sky_ ... now he was asleep with his dream. asleep in the fantastically bizarre world he had come to love. but the fact still remained: nagel had been murdered. murdered in cold blood. murdered by the killer of little max prochaska. and now the killer was in command! crag looked down at the crumpled body, reliving the scene, feeling it burn in his brain. finally he rose, filled with a terrible cold anger. "there's one thing he forgot...." "what?" richter asked. "the cylinders in drone baker. we didn't move them." he looked at his oxygen gauge. low. baker lay almost four miles to the east on a trail seldom used. they had never traversed it by night. baker, in fact, had become the forgotten drone. he probed his mind. there was a spur of intervening rock ... rills ... a twisty trail threading between lofty pinnacles.... "well have to hurry," richter urged. "let's move...." they started toward the east, walking silently, side by side, their former relationship forgotten. crag accepted the fact that their survival, the success of his mission--gotch's well-laid plans--could very well depend upon what richter did. or didn't do. he had suddenly become an integral part in the complex machine labeled step one. they reached the ridge which lay between them and the drone and started upward, climbing slowly, silently, measuring distance against time in which time represented life-sustaining oxygen. the climb over the ridge proved extremely hazardous. despite their torches they more than once brushed sharp needles of rock and stumbled over low jagged extrusions. they were panting heavily before they reached the crest and started down the opposite side. they reached the plain and crag checked his oxygen gauge. the reading alarmed him. he didn't say anything to richter but speeded his pace. the german's breath became a hoarse rumble in the earphones. "stop!" there was consternation in richter's warning cry. crag simultaneously saw the chasm yawning almost at their feet. richter said quietly: "which way?" "damned if i know." crag flashed his torch into the rill. it was wide and deep, a cleft with almost vertical sides. they would have to go around it. he flashed the light in both directions along the plain. there was no visible end to the fissure. he studied the stars briefly and said, "east is to our right. we'll have to work along the rill and gamble that it ends soon." it did. they rounded its end and resumed their way toward the east. crag had to stop several times to get his bearings. the shadows danced before the torch beams confusing him, causing odd illusions. he fell to navigating by the stars. it occurred to him that baker, measured against the expanse of the plain, would be but a speck of dust. richter's voice broke reflectively into his earphones, "oxygen's about gone. looks like this place is going to wind up a graveyard." crag said stubbornly: "we'll make it." "it better be soon...." "we should be about there." they topped a small rise and dropped back to the plain. the needle of drone baker punctuated the sky--blotted out the stars. oxygen ... oxygen. the word was sweet music. he broke into a run, reached its base and clawed at the ladder leading to its hold. he got inside panting heavily, conscious of a slightly dizzy feeling, and grabbed the first cylinder he saw. he hooked it into his suit system before looking down toward the plain. richter was not in sight. filled with alarm he grabbed another cylinder and hurried down the ladder. his torch picked up richter's form near the base of the rocket. he hooked the cylinder into his suit system and turned the valve, hoping he was in time, then flashed his torch on the german's face. he seemed to be breathing. crag called experimentally into the earphone, without answer. he finally snapped off the torch to conserve the battery and waited, his mind a jumble of thoughts. "commander...?" "good. i was scared for a moment." he flashed the torch down. richter's eyes were open; he was smiling faintly. "not a bad way to go," he managed to say. "nice and easy." "the only place you're going is red dog." "i'll be okay in a minute." "sure you will." richter struggled to his feet breathing deeply. "i'm okay." "we'd better get some more oxygen--enough to last through the fireworks," crag suggested. they returned to the drone and procured eight cylinders, lowering them with a piece of line supplied for the purpose. they climbed down to the plain, packed the cylinders and started for red dog. "going to be close but we'll make it," crag said, thinking of the warhead. richter answered confidently: "we'll make it." strange, crag thought, i wind up fighting with the enemy to keep one of my own crew from murdering me. enemy? no, he could no longer brand richter an enemy. he felt a pang of regret over the way he'd mistrusted him. still, there had been no other course. a thought jolted him. he spoke casually, aware he might be stepping on richter's toes: "there's one thing i don't understand...." "what?" "larkwell's an enemy agent...." he hesitated. "and...?" "why didn't he attempt to solicit your aid?" crag finished bluntly. "you're a spaceman, commander, not an intelligence agent." "i don't get the connection." "an agent trusts no one. and a saboteur is the lone wolf of the agents. trust me? ha! he'd just as soon trust your good colonel gotch. no, larkwell wouldn't have trusted me. never." crag was silent. an agent who couldn't trust a soldier of his own country, even when the chips were down? it was a philosophy he couldn't understand. as for larkwell! he vowed he'd live long enough to see him dead. more, he'd kill him himself. he was planning how he'd accomplish it when they reached the rill where red dog was buried. he switched his torch on and ran it along the edge of the chasm until he located the rope ladder leading down to the airlock. "you lower 'em and i'll pack 'em." crag ordered. he descended into the rill and began moving the cylinders richter lowered to him. finished, he examined the cylinders they had brought earlier. empty! his lips set in a thin line as he examined the cylinders which the rocket had brought from earth. empty ... all empty. larkwell had done a thorough job. he gritted his teeth. before he was through he'd ram the empty cylinders down larkwell's throat. yeah, and that wasn't all. he contemplated the step-by-step procedure. larkwell would die. die horribly. he looked toward the hatch wondering what was detaining richter. he waited a moment, then climbed back to the plain. the german was nowhere in sight. "richter?" there was no answer. he checked his interphone to make sure it was working and called again. silence. he swept his torch over the plain. no richter. the german had vanished ... disappeared into the black maw of the crater. "richter! richter, answer me...!" silence. apprehension swept him. he called again, desperately: "richter!" "i'm all right, commander." richter's voice was low, seeming to have come from a distance. "you'd better get back into red dog." "where are you?" crag demanded. "i have a job to do." "come back." the german didn't answer. crag was about to start in pursuit when he realized he didn't have the faintest idea what direction richter had taken. he hesitated, baffled and fearful by turn. periodically he called his name without receiving an answer. he fumed, wondering what the german had in mind. he couldn't get into bandit and, besides, he was unarmed. he popped back into red dog and looked at the chrono. if gotch's figures were right the warhead would strike in four minutes. he climbed out of the rill. "warhead due in less than four minutes," he called into his mike. "get back into red dog, commander," richter insisted. crag snapped irritably: "what the hell are you trying to do." "commander, many people have crossed the frontier--from east to west. many others have wanted to." "i don't get you." "i had to come all the way to arzachel to find my frontier, commander." "richter, come back," crag ordered, his voice level. "there's nothing you can do. you didn't know it but when i landed here i crossed the frontier, commander. i went from east to west, on the moon." "richter...?" "now i am free." "i don't know what you're talking about, but you'd better get back here--and pronto. you'll get massacred if you're on the plain when the rocket hits." inwardly he was shaken. "there's not a damn thing you can do about larkwell." "ah, but there is. he forgot two things, commander. the oxygen in baker was only the first." "and the second?" richter did not answer. crag called again. no answer. he waited, uncertain what to do next. the ground twisted violently under his feet. the warhead! a series of diminishing quakes rolled the plain in sharp jolts. missed arzachel, he thought jubilantly. it missed ... missed. he twisted his head upward. the sky was black, black, a great black spread that reached to infinity, broken only by the brilliance of the stars. off to one side betelgeuse was a baleful red eye in the shoulder of orion. a picture of what was happening flashed through his mind. somewhere between alphons and arzachel thousands of tons of rock were hurtling upward in great ballistic trajectories, parabolic courses which would bring them crashing back onto the lunar surface. many would escape, would hurtle through space until infinity ended. some would be caught in the gravisphere of planets, would crash down into strange worlds. but most would smash back on the moon. rocks ranging in size from grains of dust to giants capable of smashing skyscrapers would fall like rain. "richter! richter!" he repeated the call several times. no answer. he swept his torch futilely over the plain. richter was a dedicated man. if the coming rain of death held any fears for him he failed to show it. he looked up again, fancying that he saw movement against the stars. somewhere up there mountains were hurtling through the void. he hurriedly descended into the rill, hesitated, then moved into the rocket. he again hesitated before leaving the airlock open. richter might return. after a while he felt the first thud, a jolt that shook the rocket and traveled through his body like a wave. the floor danced under his feet. he held his breath expectantly, suppressing an instant of panic. the rocket vibrated several times but none of the jolts was as severe as the first. he waited, aware of the stillness, a silence so deep it was like a great thunder. the big stuff must all be down. the thought bolstered his courage. the idea of being squashed like a bug was not appealing. he waited, wondering if richter had survived. he thought of larkwell and involuntarily clenched his fists. larkwell, or igor malin--if he lived--would be his first order of business. he remembered nagel and prochaska and began planning how he would kill the man in bandit. he waited a while longer. the absolute silence grated his ears. now, he thought. he slipped on a fresh oxygen cylinder, and hooked a spare into his belt, then pawed through the supplies until he found fresh batteries for his torch. finally he got one of the automatic rifles from red dog's arsenal. after that he climbed up to the plain. he called richter's name several times over the phones, with little hope of answer. he looked at the sky, then swept his torch over the moonscape. a feeling of solitude assailed him. for the first time since leaving earth he was totally alone. the last time he had experienced such a feeling was when he'd pushed an experimental rocket ship almost to the edge of space. he shook off the feeling and debated what to do. richter undoubtedly was dead. had larkwell--or was it malin?--survived the rock storm? spurred to action, he turned toward bandit. nothing seemed changed, he thought, or almost nothing. here and there the smooth ash was pitted. once he came to a jagged rock which lay almost astride his path. he was sure it hadn't been there before. he moved more cautiously as he drew near bandit, remembering that the occupant of the rocket was armed. he climbed a familiar knoll, searching the plain ahead with his torch. he stopped, puzzled, flashing the light to check his bearings. satisfied he was on the right knoll he played the light ahead again while moving down to the plain. he walked slowly forward. once he dropped to the ground to see if he could discern the bulk of bandit against the stars. finally he walked faster, sweeping the torch over the plain in wide arcs. suddenly he stopped. gone! bandit was gone! it couldn't be. it might be demolished, smashed flat, but it couldn't disappear. he wondered if he were having hallucinations. no, he was sane ... completely sane. he began calling richter's name. the silence mocked him. finally he turned back toward red dog. crag slept. he slept with the airlock closed and the cabin flooded with oxygen. he slept the sleep of the dead, a luxurious sleep without thought or dream. when he awakened, he ate and donned the pressure suit, thinking he would have to get more oxygen from the drone. he opened the hatch and scrambled out. the plain was light. the sun was an intolerable circle hanging at the very edge of the horizon. he blinked his eyes to get them used to the glare. he studied the plain for a long time, then hefted the rifle and started toward bandit before he remembered there was no bandit. no bandit? when he reached the top of the knoll, he knew he was right. bandit unaccountably was gone. he searched the area in wide circles. the question grew in his mind. he found several twisted pieces of metal--a jagged piece of engine. abruptly he found richter. he was dead. his suit hung limp, airless against his body. he stared at the object next to richter. it was a moment before he recognized it as the rocket launcher. "_he forgot two things, commander...._" now he understood richter's words. now he knew the motive that had driven him onto the plain in the face of the rock storm. richter had used the launcher to destroy bandit, to destroy the murderer of prochaska and nagel. he marveled that richter could have carried the heavy weapon. once, before, he had watched two men struggle under its weight richter must have mustered every ounce of his strength. he looked at the fallen form for a long time. richter had crossed his frontier. at last he turned and started toward red dog. adam crag, the man in the moon. now he was really the man in the moon. the only man. colonel crag, commanding officer, pickering field. general crag of the first moon expeditionary force. adam crag, emperor of luna. he laughed--a mirthless laugh. damned if he couldn't be anything he wanted to be--on the moon. * * * * * the sun climbed above the rim of arzachel transforming the vast depressed interior of the crater into a caldron of heat and glare. in the morning of the lunar day the rock structures rising from the plain cast lengthy black shadows over the ashy floor--a mosaic in black and white. crag kept busy. he stripped the drones of their scant amount of usable supplies--mainly oxygen cylinders from baker--and set up a new communication post in red dog. in the first hours of the new morning gotch named the saboteur. crag listened, wearily. just then he wasn't interested in the fact that an alert intelligence agent had doubted that a man of 5' 5" could have been a star basketball player, as the superintendent of the maple hill orphanage had said. he expressed his feelings by shutting off the communicator in the middle of the colonel's explanation. the sun climbed, slowly, until it hung overhead, ending a morning which had lasted seven earth days in length. at midday the shadows had all but vanished. he finished marking the last of three crosses and stepped back to survey his work. he read the names at the head of the mounds: max prochaska, gordon nagel, otto richter. each was followed by a date. out on the plain were other graves, those of the crewmen of bandit and red dog. he had marked each mound with a small pile of stones. later it struck him that someday there might be peace. someday, someone might want to look at one of those piles of stone. he returned and added a notation to each. * * * * * the sun moved imperceptibly across the sky. it seemed to hover above the horizon for a long while before slipping beyond the rim. night seemed eternal. crag worked and slept and waited. he measured his oxygen, rationed his food, and planned. he was tough. he'd survive. if only to read gotch off, he promised himself savagely. the sun came up again. in time it set. rose and set. crag waited. * * * * * he watched the silvery ship let down. it backed down slowly, gracefully, coming to rest on the ashy plain with scarcely a jar. somehow he didn't feel jubilant. he waited, gravely, watching the figures that came from the ship. he wasn't surprised that the first one was colonel michael gotch. * * * * * later they gathered in the small crew room of the astronaut, the name of the first atom-powered spaceship. they waited solemnly--gotch and crag, the pilot, and two crewmen--waiting for the thin man to speak. just now he was sitting at the small pulldown chow table peering at some papers, records of the moon expedition. finally he looked up. "it seems to me that your nation's claim to the moon is justified," he said. the words were fateful. the thin man's name was fredrick gunter. he was also secretary-general of the united nations. * * * * * jeff sutton, although experienced in journalistic and technical writings, has only recently turned his hand to novels with the result that _first on the moon_ is also his first novel. a native californian, and a marine veteran, he is presently employed as a research engineer for convair-san diego, specializing appropriately enough for this novel in problems of high altitude survival. he says of himself: "i have long been a science-fiction reader (a common ailment among scientists and engineers). on the personal side, a number of factors have coalesced to pin me to the typewriter. i am living in--and working in--a world of missiles, rockets, and far-reaching dreams. in many areas the border between science-fiction and science suddenly has become a lace curtain. it is a world i have some acquaintance with--and fits very nicely into my desire to write." * * * * * science-fiction at its best luna was the goal, earth the prize it was a top secret, and yet the enemy knew. they knew that the americans were about to send a manned rocket to the moon and thereby claim it for old glory. they knew also that whoever held the moon would command the earth ... and they were determined to stop us at all costs! when assassination and sabotage failed to stop the take-off, they'd have to use even more drastic measures. there might be an h-bomb loaded rocket missile, there could be a red spaceship with a suicide crew, and there was always the possibility of their placing a spy aboard the u.s. rocket. first on the moon is a thrilling adventure of the very near future. written with up-to-the-minute accuracy by a professional aviation research engineer, it is a top-notch novel that is science-fiction only by the thinnest margin! an ace book the consolidator: or, memoirs of sundry transactions from the world in the moon. translated from the lunar language, by the author of the true-born english man. it cannot be unknown to any that have travell'd into the dominions of the czar of muscovy, that this famous rising monarch, having studied all methods for the encrease of his power, and the enriching as well as polishing his subjects, has travell'd through most part of europe, and visited the courts of the greatest princes; from whence, by his own observation, as well as by carrying with him artists in most useful knowledge, he has transmitted most of our general practice, especially in war and trade, to his own unpolite people; and the effects of this curiosity of his are exceeding visible in his present proceedings; for by the improvements he obtained in his european travels, he has modell'd his armies, form'd new fleets, settled foreign negoce in several remote parts of the world; and we now see his forces besieging strong towns, with regular approaches; and his engineers raising batteries, throwing bombs, &c. like other nations; whereas before, they had nothing of order among them, but carried all by ouslaught and scalado, wherein they either prevailed by the force of irresistible multitude, or were slaughter'd by heaps, and left the ditches of their enemies fill'd with their dead bodies. we see their armies now form'd into regular battalions; and their strelitz musqueteers, a people equivalent to the turks janizaries, cloath'd like our guards, firing in platoons, and behaving themselves with extraordinary bravery and order. we see their ships now compleatly fitted, built and furnish'd, by the english and dutch artists, and their men of war cruize in the baltick. their new city of petersburgh built by the present czar, begins now to look like our portsmouth, fitted with wet and dry docks, storehouses, and magazines of naval preparations, vast and incredible; which may serve to remind us, how we once taught the french to build ships, till they are grown able to teach us how to use them. as to trade, our large fleets to arch-angel may speak for it, where we now send 100 sail yearly, instead of 8 or 9, which were the greatest number we ever sent before; and the importation of tobaccoes from england into his dominions, would still increase the trade thither, was not the covetousness of our own merchants the obstruction of their advantages. but all this by the by. as this great monarch has improved his country, by introducing the manners and customs of the politer nations of europe; so, with indefatigable industry, he has settled a new, but constant trade, between his country and china, by land; where his carravans go twice or thrice a year, as numerous almost, and as strong, as those from egypt to persia: nor is the way shorter, or the desarts they pass over less wild and uninhabitable, only that they are not so subject to flouds of sand, if that term be proper, or to troops of arabs, to destroy them by the way; for this powerful prince, to make this terrible journey feazible to his subjects, has built forts, planted collonies and garisons at proper distances; where, though they are seated in countries intirely barren, and among uninhabited rocks and sands; yet, by his continual furnishing them from his own stores, the merchants travelling are reliev'd on good terms, and meet both with convoy and refreshment. more might be said of the admirable decorations of this journey, and how so prodigious an attempt is made easy; so that now they have an exact correspondence, and drive a prodigious trade between muscow and tonquin; but having a longer voyage in hand, i shall not detain the reader, nor keep him till he grows too big with expectation. now, as all men know the chineses are an ancient, wise, polite, and most ingenious people; so the muscovites begun to reap the benefit of this open trade; and not only to grow exceeding rich by the bartering for all the wealth of those eastern countries; but to polish and refine their customs and manners, as much on that side as they have from their european improvements on this. and as the chineses have many sorts of learning which these parts of the world never heard of, so all those useful inventions which we admire ourselves so much for, are vulgar and common with them, and were in use long before our parts of the world were inhabited. thus gun-powder, printing, and the use of the magnet and compass, which we call modern inventions, are not only far from being inventions, but fall so far short of the perfection of art they have attained to, that it is hardly credible, what wonderful things we are told of from thence, and all the voyages the author has made thither being imploy'd another way, have not yet furnish'd him with the particulars fully enough to transmit them to view; not but that he is preparing a scheme of all those excellent arts those nations are masters of, for publick view, by way of detection of the monstrous ignorance and deficiencies of european science; which may serve as a lexicon technicum for this present age, with useful diagrams for that purpose; wherein i shall not fail to acqaint the world, 1. with the art of gunnery, as practis'd in china long before the war of the giants, and by which those presumptuous animals fired red-hot bullets right up into heaven, and made a breach sufficient to encourage them to a general storm; but being repulsed with great slaughter, they gave over the siege for that time. this memorable part of history shall be a faithful abridgement of ibra chizra-le-peglizar, historiagrapher-royal to the emperor of china, who wrote anno mundi 114. his volumes extant, in the publick library at tonquin, printed in leaves of vitrify'd diamond, by an admirable dexterity, struck all at an oblique motion, the engine remaining intire, and still fit for use, in the chamber of the emperor's rarities. and here i shall give you a draft of the engine it self, and a plan of its operation, and the wonderful dexterity of its performance. if these labours of mine shall prove successful, i may in my next journey that way, take an abstract of their most admirable tracts in navigation, and the mysteries of chinese mathematicks; which out-do all modern invention at that rate, that 'tis inconceivable: in this elaborate work i must run thro' the 365 volumes of augro-machi-lanquaro-zi, the most ancient mathematician in all china: from thence i shall give a description of a fleet of ships of 100000 sail, built at the expence of the emperor tangro the 15th; who having notice of the general deluge, prepar'd these vessels, to every city and town in his dominions one, and in bulk proportion'd to the number of its inhabitants; into which vessel all the people, with such moveables as they thought fit to save, and with 120 days provisions, were receiv'd at the time of the floud; and the rest of their goods being put into great vessels made of china ware, and fast luted down on the top, were preserv'd unhurt by the water: these ships they furnish'd with 600 fathom of chain instead of cables; which being fastned by wonderful arts to the earth, every vessel rid out the deluge just at the town's end; so that when the waters abated, the people had nothing to do, but to open the doors made in the ship-sides, and come out, repair their houses, open the great china pots their goods were in, and so put themselves in statu quo. the draft of one of these ships i may perhaps obtain by my interest in the present emperor's court, as it has been preserv'd ever since, and constantly repair'd, riding at anchor in a great lake, about 100 miles from tonquin; in which all the people of that city were preferv'd, amounting by their computation to about a million and half. and as these things must be very useful in these parts, to abate the pride and arrogance of our modern undertakers of great enterprizes, authors of strange foreign accounts, philosophical transactions, and the like; if time and opportunity permit, i may let them know, how infinitely we are out-done by those refined nations, in all manner of mechanick improvements and arts; and in discoursing of this, it will necessarily come in my way to speak of a most noble invention, being an engine i would recommend to all people to whom 'tis necessary to have a good memory; and which i design, if possible, to obtain a draft of, that it may be erected in our royal societies laboratory: it has the wonderfullest operations in the world: one part of it furnishes a man of business to dispatch his affairs strangely; for if he be a merchant, he shall write his letters with one hand, and copy them with the other; if he is posting his books, he shall post the debtor side with one hand, and the creditor with the other; if he be a lawyer, he draws his drafts with one hand, and ingrosses them with the other. another part of it furnishes him with such an expeditious way of writing, or transcribing, that a man cannot speak so fast, but he that hears shall have it down in writing before 'tis spoken; and a preacher shall deliver himself to his auditory, and having this engine before him, shall put down every thing he says in writing at the same time; and so exactly is this engine squar'd by lines and rules, that it does not require him that writes to keep his eye upon it. i am told, in some parts of china, they had arriv'd to such a perfection of knowledge, as to understand one anothers thoughts; and that it was found to be an excellent preservative to humane society, against all sorts of frauds, cheats, sharping, and many thousand european inventions of that nature, at which only we can be said to out-do those nations. i confess, i have not yet had leisure to travel those parts, having been diverted by an accidental opportunity of a new voyage i had occasion to make for farther discoveries, and which the pleasure and usefulness thereof having been very great, i have omitted the other for the present, but shall not fail to make a visit to those parts the first opportunity, and shall give my country-men the best account i can of those things; for i doubt not in time to bring our nation, so fam'd for improving other people's discoveries, to be as wise as any of those heathen nations; i wish i had the same prospect of making them half so honest. i had spent but a few months in this country, but my search after the prodigy of humane knowledge the people abounds with, led me into acquaintance with some of their principal artists, engineers, and men of letters; and i was astonish'd at every day's discovery of new and of unheard-of worlds of learning; but i improv'd in the superficial knowledge of their general, by no body so much as by my conversation with the library-keeper of tonquin, by whom i had admission into the vast collection of books, which the emperors of that country have treasur'd up. it would be endless to give you a catalogue, and they admit of no strangers to write any thing down, but what the memory can retain, you are welcome to carry away with you; and amongst the wonderful volumes of antient and modern learning, i could not but take notice of a few; which, besides those i mentioned before, i saw, when i lookt over this vast collection; and a larger account may be given in our next. it would be needless to transcribe the chinese character, or to put their alphabet into our letters, because the words would be both unintelligible, and very hard to pronounce; and therefore, to avoid hard words, and hyroglyphicks, i'll translate them as well as i can. the first class i came to of books, was the constitutions of the empire; these are vast great volumes, and have a sort of engine like our magna charta, to remove 'em, and with placing them in a frame, by turning a screw, open'd the leaves, and folded them this way, or that, as the reader desires. it was present death for the library-keeper to refuse the meanest chinese subject to come in and read them; for 'tis their maxim, that all people ought to know the laws by which they are to be govern'd; and as above all people, we find no fools in this country, so the emperors, though they seem to be arbitrary, enjoy the greatest authority in the world, by always observing, with the greatest exactness, the pacta conventa of their government: from these principles it is impossible we should ever hear, either of the tyranny of princes, or rebellion of subjects, in all their histories. at the entrance into this class, you find some ancient comments, upon the constitution of the empire, written many ages before we pretend the world began; but above all, one i took particular notice of, which might bear this title, natural right prov'd superior to temporal power; wherein the old author proves, the chinese emperors were originally made so, by nature's directing the people, to place the power of government in the most worthy person they could find; and the author giving a most exact history of 2000 emperors, brings them into about 35 or 36 periods of lines when the race ended; and when a collective assembly of the nobles, cities, and people, nominated a new family to the goverment. this being an heretical book as to european politicks, and our learned authors having long since exploded this doctrine, and prov'd that kings and emperors came down from heaven with crowns on their heads, and all their subjects were born with saddles on their backs; i thought fit to leave it where i found it, least our excellent tracts of sir robert filmer, dr. hammond l...y, s....l, and others, who have so learnedly treated of the more useful doctrine of passive obedience, divine right, &c. should be blasphem'd by the mob, grow into contempt of the people; and they should take upon them to question their superiors for the blood of algernon sidney, and argyle. for i take the doctrines of passive obedience, &c. among the states-men, to be like the copernican system of the earths motion among philosophers; which, though it be contrary to all antient knowledge, and not capable of demonstration, yet is adher'd to in general, because by this they can better solve, and give a more rational account of several dark phanomena in nature, than they could before. thus our modern states-men approve of this scheme of government; not that it admits of any rational defence, much less of demonstration, but because by this method they can the better explain, as well as defend, all coertion in cases invasive of natural right, than they could before. here i found two famous volumes in chyrurgery, being an exact description of the circulation of the blood, discovered long before king solomon's allegory of the bucket's going to the well; with several curious methods by which the demonstration was to be made so plain, as would make even the worthy doctor b-----himself become a convert to his own eye-sight, make him damn his own elaborate book, and think it worse nonsence than ever the town had the freedom to imagine. all our philosophers are fools, and their transactions a parcel of empty stuff, to the experiments of the royal societies in this country. here i came to a learned tract of winds, which outdoes even the sacred text, and would make us believe it was not wrote to those people; for they tell folks whence it comes, and whither it goes. there you have an account how to make glasses of hogs eyes, that can see the wind; and they give strange accounts both of its regular and irregular motions, its compositions and quantities; from whence, by a sort of algebra, they can cast up its duration, violence, and extent: in these calculations, some say, those authors have been so exact, that they can, as our philosophers say of comets, state their revolutions, and tell us how many storms there shall happen to any period of time, and when; and perhaps this may be with much about the same truth. it was a certain sign aristotle had never been at china; for, had he seen the 216th volume of the chinese navigation, in the library i am speaking of, a large book in double folio, wrote by the famous mira-cho-cho-lasmo, vice-admiral of china, and said to be printed there about 2000 years before the deluge, in the chapter of tides he would have seen the reason of all the certain and uncertain fluxes and refluxes of that element, how the exact pace is kept between the moon and the tides, with a most elaborate discourse there, of the power of sympathy, and the manner how the heavenly bodies influence the earthly: had he seen this, the stagyrite would never have drowned himself, because he could not comprehend this mystery. 'tis farther related of this famous author, that he was no native of this world, but was born in the moon, and coming hither to make discoveries, by a strange invention arrived to by the virtuosoes of that habitable world, the emperor of china prevailed with him to stay and improve his subjects, in the most exquisite accomplishments of those lunar regions; and no wonder the chinese are such exquisite artists, and masters of such sublime knowledge, when this famous author has blest them with such unaccountable methods of improvement. there was abundance of vast classes full of the works of this wonderful philosopher: he gave the how, the modus of all the secret operations of nature; and told us, how sensation is convey'd to and from the brain; why respiration preserves life; and how locomotion is directed to, as well as perform'd by the parts. there are some anatomical dissections of thought, and a mathematical description of nature's strong box, the memory, with all its locks and keys. there you have that part of the head turn'd in-side outward, in which nature has placed the materials of reflecting; and like a glass bee-hive, represents to you all the several cells in which are lodg'd things past, even back to infancy and conception. there you have the repository, with all its cells, classically, annually, numerically, and alphabetically dispos'd. there you may see how, when the perplext animal, on the loss of a thought or word, scratches his pole: every attack of his invading fingers knocks at nature's door, allarms all the register-keepers, and away they run, unlock all the classes, search diligently for what he calls for, and immediately deliver it up to the brain; if it cannot be found, they intreat a little patience, till they step into the revolvary, where they run over little catalogues of the minutest passages of life, and so in time never fail to hand on the thing; if not just when he calls for it, yet at some other time. and thus, when a thing lyes very abstruse, and all the rumaging of the whole house cannot find it; nay, when all the people in the house have given it over, they very often find one thing when they are looking for another. next you have the retentive in the remotest part of the place, which, like the records in the tower, takes possession of all matters, as they are removed from the classes in the repository, for want of room. these are carefully lockt, and kept safe, never to be open'd but upon solemn occasions, and have swinging great bars and bolts upon them; so that what is kept here, is seldom lost. here conscience has one large ware-house, and the devil another; the first is very seldom open'd, but has a chink or till, where all the follies and crimes of life being minuted are dropt in; but as the man seldom cares to look in, the locks are very rusty, and not open'd but with great difficulty, and on extraordinary occasions, as sickness, afflictions, jails, casualties, and death; and then the bars all give way at once; and being prest from within with a more than ordinary weight, burst as a cask of wine upon the fret, which for want of vent, makes all the hoops fly. as for the devil's ware-house, he has two constant warehouse-keepers, pride and conceit, and these are always at the door, showing their wares, and exposing the pretended vertues and accomplishments of the man, by way of ostentation. in the middle of this curious part of nature, there is a clear thorough-fare, representing the world, through which so many thousand people pass so easily, and do so little worth taking notice of, that 'tis for no manner of signification to leave word they have been here. thro' this opening pass millions of things not worth remembring, and which the register-keepers, who stand at the doors of the classes, as they go by, take no notice of; such as friendships, helps in distress, kindnesses in affliction, voluntary services, and all sorts of importunate merit; things which being but trifles in their own nature, are made to be forgotten. in another angle is to be seen the memory's garden, in which her most pleasant things are not only deposited, but planted, transplanted, grafted, inoculated, and obtain all possible propagation and encrease; these are the most pleasant, delightful, and agreeable things, call'd envy, slander, revenge, strife and malice, with the additions of ill-turns, reproaches, and all manner of wrong; these are caressed in the cabinet of the memory, with a world of pleasure never let pass, and carefully cultivated with all imaginable art. there are multitudes of weeds, toys, chat, story, fiction, and lying, which in the great throng of passant affairs, stop by the way, and crowding up the place, leave no room for their betters that come behind, which makes many a good guess be put by, and left to go clear thro' for want of entertainment. there are a multitude of things very curious and observable, concerning this little, but very accurate thing, called memory; but above all, i see nothing so very curious, as the wonderful art of wilful forgetfulness; and as 'tis a thing, indeed, i never could find any person compleatly master of, it pleased me very much, to find this author has made a large essay, to prove there is really no such power in nature; and that the pretenders to it are all impostors, and put a banter upon the world; for that it is impossible for any man to oblige himself to forget a thing, since he that can remember to forget, and at the same time forget to remember, has an art above the devil. in his laboratory you see a fancy preserv'd a la mummy, several thousand years old; by examining which you may perfectly discern, how nature makes a poet: another you have taken from a meer natural, which discovers the reasons of nature's negative in the case of humane understanding; what deprivation of parts she suffers, in the composition of a coxcomb; and with what wonderful art she prepares a man to be a fool. here being the product of this author's wonderful skill, you have the skeleton of a wit, with all the readings of philosophy and chyrurgery upon the parts: here you see all the lines nature has drawn to form a genius, how it performs, and from what principles. also you are instructed to know the true reason of the affinity between poetry and poverty; and that it is equally derived from what's natural and intrinsick, as from accident and circumstance; how the world being always full of fools and knaves, wit is sure to miss of a good market; especially, if wit and truth happen to come in company; for the fools don't understand it, and the knaves can't bear it. but still 'tis own'd, and is most apparent, there is something also natural in the case too, since there are some particular vessels nature thinks necessary, to the more exact composition of this nice thing call'd a wit, which as they are, or are not interrupted in the peculiar offices for which they are appointed, are subject to various distempers, and more particularly to effluxions and vapour, diliriums giddiness of the brain, and lapsa, or looseness of the tongue; and as these distempers, occasion'd by the exceeding quantity of volatiles, nature is obliged to make use of in the composition, are hardly to be avoided, the disasters which generally they push the animal into, are as necessarily consequent to them as night is to the setting of the sun; and these are very many, as disobliging parents, who have frequently in this country whipt their sons for making verses; and here i could not but reflect how useful a discipline early correction must be to a poet; and how easy the town had been had n---t, e---w, t. b--p---s, d-s-d---fy, and an hundred more of the jingling train of our modern rhymers, been whipt young, very young, for poetasting, they had never perhaps suckt in that venome of ribaldry, which all the satyr of the age has never been able to scourge out of them to this day. the further fatal consequences of these unhappy defects in nature, where she has damn'd a man to wit and rhyme, has been loss of inheritance, parents being aggravated by the obstinate young beaus, resolving to be wits in spight of nature, the wiser head has been obliged to confederate with nature, and with-hold the birth-right of brains, which otherwise the young gentleman might have enjoy'd, to the great support of his family and posterity. thus the famous waller, denham, dryden, and sundry others, were oblig'd to condemn their race to lunacy and blockheadism, only to prevent the fatal destruction of their families, and entailing the plague of wit and weathercocks upon their posterity. the yet farther extravagancies which naturally attend the mischief of wit, are beau-ism, dogmaticality, whimsification, impudensity, and various kinds of fopperosities (according to mr. boyl,) which issuing out of the brain, descend into all the faculties, and branch themselves by infinite variety, into all the actions of life. these by conseqence, beggar the head, the tail, the purse, and the whole man, till he becomes as poor and despicable as negative nature can leave him, abandon'd of his sense, his manners, his modesty, and what's worse, his money, having nothing left but his poetry, dies in a ditch, or a garret, a-la-mode de tom brown, uttering rhymes and nonsence to the last moment. in pity to all my unhappy brethren, who suffer under these inconveniencies, i cannot but leave it on record, that they may not be reproached with being agents of their own misfortunes, since i assure them, nature has form'd them with the very necessity of acting like coxcombs, fixt upon them by the force of organick consequences, and placed down at the very original effusion of that fatal thing call'd wit. nor is the discovery less wonderful than edifying, and no humane art on our side the world ever found out such a sympathetick influence, between the extreams of wit and folly, till this great lunarian naturalist furnisht us with such unheard-of demonstrations. nor is this all i learnt from him, tho' i cannot part with this, till i have publisht a memento mori, and told 'em what i had discovered of nature in these remote parts of the world, from whence i take the freedom to tell these gentlemen, that if they please to travel to these distant parts, and examine this great master of nature's secrets, they may every man see what cross strokes nature has struck, to finish and form every extravagant species of that heterogenious kind we call wit. there c--s--may be inform'd how he comes to be very witty, and a mad-man all at once; and p---r may see, that with less brains and more p--x he is more a wit and more a mad-man than the coll. ad---son may tell his master my lord ---the reason from nature, why he would not take the court's word, nor write the poem call'd, the campaign, till he had 200 l. per annum secur'd to him; since 'tis known they have but one author in the nation that writes for 'em for nothing, and he is labouring very hard to obtain the title of blockhead, and not be paid for it: here d. might understand, how he came to be able to banter all mankind, and yet all mankind be able to banter him; at the fame time our numerous throng of parnassians may see reasons for the variety of the negative and positive blessings they enjoy; some for having wit and no verse, some verse and no wit, some mirth without jest, some jest without fore-cast, some rhyme and no jingle, some all jingle and no rhyme, some language without measure; some all quantity and no cudence, some all wit and no sence, some all sence and no flame, some preach in rhyme, some sing when they preach, some all song and no tune, some all tune and no song; all these unaccountables have their originals, and can be answer'd for in unerring nature, tho' in our out-side guesses we can say little to it. here is to be seen, why some are all nature, some all art; some beat verse out of the twenty-four rough letters, with ten hammers and anvils to every line, and maul the language as a swede beats stock-fish; others buff nature, and bully her out of whole stanza's of ready-made lines at a time, carry all before them, and rumble like distant thunder in a black cloud: thus degrees and capacities are fitted by nature, according to organick efficacy; and the reason and nature of things are found in themselves: had d---y seen his own draft by this light of chinese knowledge, he might have known he should be a coxcomb without writing twenty-two plays, to stand as so many records against him. dryden might have told his fate, that having his extraordinary genius flung and pitcht upon a swivle, it would certainly turn round as fast as the times, and instruct him how to write elegies to o. c. and king c. the second, with all the coherence imaginable; how to write religio laicy, and the hind and panther, and yet be the same man, every day to change his principle, change his religion, change his coat, change his master, and yet never change his nature. there are abundance of other secrets in nature discover'd in relation to these things, too many to repeat, and yet too useful to omit, as the reason why phisicians are generally atheists; and why atheists are universally fools, and generally live to know it themselves, the real obstructions, which prevent fools being mad, all the natural causes of love, abundance of demonstrations of the synonimous nature of love and leachery, especially consider'd a la modern, with an absolute specifick for the frenzy of love, found out in the constitution, anglice, a halter. it would be endless to reckon up the numerous improvements, and wonderful discoveries this extraordinary person has brought down, and which are to be seen in his curious chamber of rarities. particularly, a map of parnassus, with an exact delineation of all the cells, apartments, palaces and dungeons, of that most famous mountain; with a description of its heighth, and a learned dissertation, proving it to be the properest place next to the p---e house to take a rise at, for a flight to the world in the moon. also some enquiries, whether noah's ark did not first rest upon it; and this might be one of the summits of ararat, with some confutations of the gross and palpable errors, which place this extraordinary skill among the mountains of the moon in africa. also you have here a muse calcin'd, a little of the powder of which given to a woman big with child, if it be a boy it will be a poet, if a girl she'll be a whore, if an hermaphrodite it will be lunatick. strange things, they tell us, have been done with this calcin'd womb of imagination; if the body it came from was a lyrick poet, the child will be a beau, or a beauty; if an heroick poet, he will be a bulley; if his talent was satyr, he'll be a philosopher. another muse they tell us, they have dissolv'd into a liquid, and kept with wondrous art, the vertues of which are soveraign against ideotism, dullness, and all sorts of lethargick diseases; but if given in too great a quantity, creates poesy, poverty, lunacy, and the devil in the head ever after. i confess, i always thought these muses strange intoxicating things, and have heard much talk of their original, but never was acquainted with their vertue a la simple before; however, i would always advise people against too large a dose of wit, and think the physician must be a mad-man that will venture to prescribe it. as all these noble acquirements came down with this wonderful man from the world in the moon, it furnisht me with these useful observations. 1. that country must needs be a place of strange perfection, in all parts of extraordinary knowledge. 2. how useful a thing it would be for most sorts of our people, especially statesmen, p----t-men, convocation-men, phylosophers, physicians, quacks, mountebanks, stock-jobbers, and all the mob of the nation's civil or ecclesiastical bone-setters, together with some men of the law, some of the sword, and all of the pen: i say, how useful and improving a thing it must be to them, to take a journey up to the world in the moon; but above all, how much more beneficial it would be to them that stay'd behind. 3. that it is not to be wonder'd at, why the chinese excell so much all these parts of the world, since but for that knowledge which comes down to them from the world in the moon, they would be like other people. 4. no man need to wonder at my exceeding desire to go up to the world in the moon, having heard of such extraordinary knowledge to be obtained there, since in the search of knowledge and truth, wiser men than i have taken as unwarrantable flights, and gone a great deal higher than the moon, into a strange abbyss of dark phanomena, which they neither could make other people understand, nor ever rightly understood themselves, witness malbranch, mr. lock, hobbs, the honourable boyle and a great many others, besides messieurs norris, asgil, coward, and the tale of a tub. this great searcher into nature has, besides all this, left wonderful discoveries and experiments behind him; but i was with nothing more exceedingly diverted, than with his various engines, and curious contrivances, to go to and from his own native country the moon. all our mechanick motions of bishop wilkins, or the artificial wings of the learned spaniard, who could have taught god almighty how to have mended the creation, are fools to this gentleman; and because no man in china has made more voyages up into the moon than my self, i cannot but give you some account of the easyness of the passage, as well as of the country. nor are his wonderful tellescopes of a mean quality, by which such plain discoveries are made, of the lands and seas in the moon, and in all the habitable planets, that one may as plainly fee what a clock it is by one of the dials in the moon, as if it were no farther off than windsor-castle; and had he liv'd to finish the speaking-trumpet which he had contriv'd to convey sound thither, harlequin's mock-trumpet had been a fool to it; and it had no doubt been an admirable experiment, to have given us a general advantage from all their acquir'd knowledge in those regions, where no doubt several useful discoveries are daily made by the men of thought for the improvement of all sorts of humane understanding, and to have discoursed with them on those things, must have been very pleasant, besides, its being very much to our particular advantage. i confess, i have thought it might have been very useful to this nation, to have brought so wonderful an invention hither, and i was once very desirous to have set up my rest here, and for the benefit of my native country, have made my self master of these engines, that i might in due time have convey'd them to our royal society, that once in 40 years they might have been said to do something for publick good; and that the reputation and usefulness of the so so's might be recover'd in england; but being told that in the moon there were many of these glasses to be had very cheap, and i having declar'd my resolution of undertaking a voyage thither, i deferred my design, and shall defer my treating of them, till i give some account of my arrival there. but above all his inventions for making this voyage, i saw none more pleasant or profitable, than a certain engine formed in the shape of a chariot, on the backs of two vast bodies with extended wings, which spread about 50 yards in breadth, compos'd of feathers so nicely put together, that no air could pass; and as the bodies were made of lunar earth which would bear the fire, the cavities were fill'd with an ambient flame, which fed on a certain spirit deposited in a proper quantity, to last out the voyage; and this fire so order'd as to move about such springs and wheels as kept the wings in a most exact and regular motion, always ascendant; thus the person being placed in this airy chariot, drinks a certain dozing draught, that throws him into a gentle slumber, and dreaming all the way, never wakes till he comes to his journey's end. of the consolidator. these engines are call'd in their country language, dupekasses; and according to the ancient chinese, or tartarian, apezolanthukanistes; in english, a consolidator. the composition of this engine is very admirable; for, as is before noted, 'tis all made up of feathers, and the quality of the feathers, is no less wonderful than their composition; and therefore, i hope the reader will bear with the description for the sake of the novelty, since i assure him such things as these are not to be seen in every country. the number of feathers are just 513, they are all of a length and breadth exactly, which is absolutely necessary to the floating figure, or else one side or any one part being wider or longer than the rest, it would interrupt the motion of the whole engine; only there is one extraordinary feather which, as there is an odd one in the number, is placed in the center, and is the handle, or rather rudder to the whole machine: this feather is every way larger than its fellows, 'tis almost as long and broad again; but above all, its quill or head is much larger, and it has as it were several small bushing feathers round the bottom of it, which all make but one presiding or superintendent feather, to guide, regulate, and pilot the whole body. nor are these common feathers, but they are pickt and cull'd out of all parts of the lunar country, by the command of the prince; and every province sends up the best they can find, or ought to do so at least, or else they are very much to blame; for the employment they are put to being of so great use to the publick, and the voyage or flight so exceeding high, it would be very ill done if, when the king sends his letters about the nation, to pick him up the best feathers they can lay their hands on, they should send weak, decay'd, or half-grown feathers, and yet sometimes it happens so; and once there was such rotten feathers collected, whether it was a bad year for feathers, or whether the people that gather'd them had a mind to abuse their king; but the feathers were so bad, the engine was good for nothing, but broke before it was got half way; and by a double misfortune, this happen'd to be at an unlucky time, when the king himself had resolv'd on a voyage, or flight to to the moon; but being deceiv'd, by the unhappy miscarriage of the deficient feathers, he fell down from so great a height, that he struck himself against his own palace, and beat his head off. nor had the sons of this prince much better success, tho' the first of them was a prince mightily belov'd by his subjects; but his misfortunes chiefly proceeded from his having made use of one of the engines so very long, that the feathers were quite worn out, and good for nothing: he used to make a great many voyages and flights into the moon, and then would make his subjects give him great sums of money to come down to them again; and yet they were so fond of him, that they always complyed with him, and would give him every thing he askt, rather than to be without him: but they grew wiser since. at last, this prince used his engine so long, it could hold together no longer; and being obliged to write to his subjects to pick him out some new feathers, they did so; but withall sent him such strong feathers, and so stiff, that when he had placed 'em in their proper places, and made a very beautiful engine, it was too heavy for him to manage: he made a great many essays at it, and had it placed on the top of an old idol chappel, dedicated to an old bramyn saint of those countries, called, phantosteinaschap; in latin, chap. de saint stephano; or in english, st. stephen's: here the prince try'd all possible contrivances, and a vast deal of money it cost him; but the feathers were so stiff they would not work, and the fire within was so choaked and smother'd with its own smoak, for want of due vent and circulation, that it would not burn; so he was oblig'd to take it down again; and from thence he carried it to his college of bramyn priests, and set it up in one of their publick buildings: there he drew circles of ethicks and politicks, and fell to casting of figures and conjuring, but all would not do, the feathers could not be brought to move; and, indeed, i have observ'd, that these engines are seldom helpt by art and contrivance; there is no way with them, but to have the people spoke to, to get good feathers; and they are easily placed, and perform all the several motions with the greatest ease and accuracy imaginable; but it must be all nature; any thing of force distorts and dislocates them, and the whole order is spoiled; and if there be but one feather out of place, or pincht, or stands wrong, the d---l would not ride in the chariot. the prince thus finding his labour in vain, broke the engine to pieces, and sent his subjects word what bad feathers they had sent him: but the people, who knew it was his own want of management, and that the feathers were good enough, only a little stiff at first, and with good usage would have been brought to be fit for use, took it ill, and never would send him any other as long as he liv'd: however, it had this good effect upon him, that he never made any more voyages to the moon as long as he reign'd. his brother succeeded him; and truly he was resolved upon a voyage to the moon, as soon as ever he came to the crown. he had met with some unkind usage from the religious lunesses of his own country; and he turn'd abogratziarian, a zealous fiery sect something like our anti-every-body-arians in england. 'tis confest, some of the bramyns of his country were very false to him, put him upon several ways of extending his power over his subjects, contrary to the customs of the people, and contrary to his own interest; and when the people expressed their dislike of it, he thought to have been supported by those clergy-men; but they failed him, and made good, that old english verse; that priests of all religions are the same. he took this so hainously, that he conceiv'd a just hatred against those that had deceiv'd him; and as resentments seldom keep rules, unhappily entertain'd prejudices against all the rest; and not finding it easy to bring all his designs to pass better, he resolved upon a voyage to the moon. accordingly, he sends a summons to all his people according to custom, to collect the usual quantity of feathers for that purpose; and because he would be sure not be used as his brother and father had been, he took care to send certain cunning-men express, all over the country, to bespeak the people's care, in collecting, picking and culling them out, these were call'd in their language, tsopablesdetoo; which being translated may signify in english, men of zeal, or booted apostles: nor was this the only caution this prince used; for he took care, as the feathers were sent up to him, to search and examine them one by one in his own closet, to see if they were fit for his purpose; but, alas! he found himself in his brother's case exactly; and perceived, that his subjects were generally disgusted at his former conduct, about abrogratzianism, and such things, and particularly set in a flame by some of their priests, call'd, dullobardians, or passive-obedience-men, who had lately turn'd their tale, and their tail too upon their own princes; and upon this, he laid aside any more thoughts of the engine, but took up a desperate and implacable resolution, viz. to fly up to the moon without it; in order to this, abundance of his cunning-men were summon'd together to assist him, strange engines contriv'd, and methods propos'd; and a great many came from all parts, to furnish him with inventions and equivalent for their journey; but all were so preposterous and ridiculous, that his subjects seeing him going on to ruin himself, and by consequence them too, unanimously took arms; and if their prince had not made his escape into a foreign country, 'tis thought they would have secur'd him for a mad-man. and here 'tis observable, that as it is in most such cases, the mad councellors of this prince, when the people begun to gather about him, fled; and every one shifted for themselves; nay, and some of them plunder'd him first of his jewels and treasure, and never were heard of since. from this prince none of the kings or government of that country have ever seem'd to incline to the hazardous attempt of the voyage to the moon, at least not in such a hair-brain'd manner. however, the engine has been very accurately re-built and finish'd; and the people are now oblig'd by a law, to send up new feathers every three years, to prevent the mischiefs which happen'd by that prince aforesaid, keeping one set so long that it was dangerous to venture with them; and thus the engine is preserved fit for use. and yet has not this engine been without its continual disasters, and often out of repair; for though the kings of the country, as has been noted, have done riding on the back of it, yet the restless courtiers and ministers of state have frequently obtained the management of it, from the too easy goodness of their masters, or the evils of the times. to cure this, the princes frequently chang'd hands, turn'd one set of men out and put another in: but this made things still worse; for it divided the people into parties and factions in the state, and still the strife was, who should ride in this engine; and no sooner were these skaet-riders got into it, but they were for driving all the nation up to the moon: but of this by it self. authors differ concerning the original of these feathers, and by what most exact hand they were first appointed to this particular use; and as their original is hard to be found, so it seems a difficulty to resolve from what sort of bird these feathers are obtained: some have nam'd one, some another; but the most learned in those climates call it by a hard word, which the printer having no letters to express, and being in that place hierogliphical, i can translate no better, than by the name of a collective: this must be a strange bird without doubt; it has heads, claws, eyes and teeth innumerable; and if i should go about to describe it to you, the history would be so romantick, it would spoil the credit of these more authentick relations which are yet behind. 'tis sufficient, therefore, for the present, only to leave you this short abridgement of the story, as follows: this great monstrous bird, call'd the collective, is very seldom seen, and indeed never, but upon great revolutions, and portending terrible desolations and destructions to a country. but he frequently sheds his feathers; and they are carefully pickt up, by the proprietors of those lands where they fall; for none but those proprietors may meddle with them; and they no sooner pick them up but they are sent to court, where they obtain a new name, and are called in a word equally difficult to pronounce as the other, but very like our english word, representative; and being placed in their proper rows, with the great feather in the center, and fitted for use, they lately obtained the venerable title of, the consolidators; and the machine it self, the consolidator; and by that name the reader is desir'd for the future to let it be dignified and distinguish'd. i cannot, however, forbear to descant a little here, on the dignity and beauty of these feathers, being such as are hardly to be seen in any part of the world, but just in these remote climates. and first, every feather has various colours, and according to the variety of the weather, are apt to look brighter and clearer, or paler and fainter, as the sun happens to look on them with a stronger or weaker aspect. the quill or head of every feather is or ought to be full of a vigorous substance, which gives spirit, and supports the brightness and colour of the feather; and as this is more or less in quantity, the bright colour of the feather is increased, or turns languid and pale. tis true, some of those quills are exceeding empty and dry; and the humid being totally exhal'd, those feathers grow very useless and insignificant in a short time. some again are so full of wind, and puft up with the vapour of the climate, that there's not humid enough to condence the steam; and these are so fleet, so light, and so continually fluttering and troublesome, that they greatly serve to disturb and keep the motion unsteddy. others either placed too near the inward concealed fire, or the head of the quill being thin, the fire causes too great a fermentation; and the consequence of this is so fatal, that sometimes it mounts the engine up too fast, and indangers precipitation: but 'tis happily observed, that these ill feathers are but a very few, compar'd to the whole number; at the most, i never heard they were above 134 of the whole number: as for the empty ones, they are not very dangerous, but a sort of good-for-nothing feathers, that will fly when the greatest number of the rest fly, or stand still when they stand still. the fluttering hot-headed feathers are the most dangerous, and frequently struggle hard to mount the engine to extravagant heights; but still the greater number of the feathers being stanch, and well fixt, as well as well furnisht, they always prevail, and check the disorders the other would bring upon the motion; so that upon the whole matter, tho' there has sometims been oblique motions, variations, and sometimes great wandrings out of the way, which may make the passage tedious, yet it has always been a certain and safe voyage; and no engine was ever known to miscarry or overthrow, but that one mentioned before, and that was very much owing to the precipitate methods the prince took in guiding it; and tho' all the fault was laid in the feathers, and they were to blame enough, yet i never heard any wise man, but what blam'd his discretion, and particularly, a certain great man has wrote three large tracts of those affairs, and call'd them, the history of the opposition of the feathers; wherein, tho' it was expected he would have curst the engine it self and all the feathers to the devil, on the contrary, he lays equal blame on the prince, who guided the chariot with so unsteddy a hand, now as much too slack, as then too hard, turning them this way and that so hastily, that the feathers could not move in their proper order; and this at last put the fire in the center quite out, and so the engine over-set at once. this impartiality has done great justice to the feathers, and set things in a clearer light: but of this i shall say more, when i come to treat of the works of the learned in this lunar world. this is hinted here only to inform the reader, that this engine is the safest passage that ever was found out; and that saving that one time, it never miscarried; nor if the common order of things be observed, cannot miscarry; for the good feathers are always negatives, when any precipitant motion is felt, and immediately suppress it by their number; and these negative feathers are indeed the travellers safety; the other are always upon the flutter, and upon every occasion hey for the moon, up in the clouds presently; but these negative feathers are never for going up, but when there is occasion for it; and from hence these fluttering fermented feathers were called by the antients high-flying feathers, and the blustering things seem'd proud of the name. but to come to their general character, the feathers, speaking of them all together, are generally very comely, strong, large, beautiful things, their quills or heads well fixt, and the cavities fill'd with a solid substantial matter, which tho' it is full of spirit, has a great deal of temperament, and full of suitable well-dispos'd powers, to the operation for which they are design'd. these placed, as i noted before, in an extended form like two great wings, and operated by that sublime flame; which being concealed in proper receptacles, obtains its vent at the cavities appointed, are supplied from thence with life and motion; and as fire it fell, in the opinion of some learned men, is nothing but motion, and motion tends to fire: it can no more be a wonder, if exalted in the center of this famous engine, a whole nation should be carried up to the world in the moon. 'tis true, this engine is frequently assaulted with fierce winds, and furious storms, which sometimes drive it a great way out of its way; and indeed, considering the length of the passage, and the various regions it goes through, it would be strange if it should meet with no obstructions: these are oblique gales, and cannot be said to blow from any of the thirty-two points, but retrograde and thwart: some of these are call'd in their language, pensionazima, which is as much as to say, being interpreted, a court-breeze; another sort of wind, which generally blows directly contrary to the pensionazima, is the clamorio, or in english, a country gale; this is generally tempestuous, full of gusts and disgusts, squauls and sudden blasts, not without claps of thunder, and not a little flashing of heat and party-fires. there are a great many other internal blasts, which proceed from the fire within, which sometimes not circulating right, breaks out in little gusts of wind and heat, and is apt to indanger setting fire to the feathers, and this is more or less dangerous, according as among which of the feathers it happens; for some of the feathers are more apt to take fire than others, as their quills or heads are more or less full of that solid matter mention'd before. the engine suffers frequent convulsions and disorders from these several winds; and which if they chance to overblow very much, hinder the passage; but the negative feathers always apply temper and moderation; and this brings all to rights again. for a body like this, what can it not do? what cannot such an extension perform in the air? and when one thing is tackt to another, and properly cosolidated into one mighty consolidator, no question but whoever shall go up to the moon, will find himself so improv'd in this wonderful experiment, that not a man ever perform'd that wonderful flight, but he certainly came back again as wise as he went. well, gentlemen, and what if we are called high-flyers now, and an hundred names of contempt and distinction, what is this to the purpose? who would not be a high-flyer, to be tackt and consolidated in an engine of such sublime elevation, and which lifts men, monarchs, members, yea, and whole nations, up into the clouds; and performs with such wondrous art, the long expected experiment of a voyage to the moon? and thus much for the description of the consolidator. the first voyage i ever made to this country, was in one of these engines; and i can safely affirm, i never wak'd all the way; and now having been as often there as most that have us'd that trade, it may be expected i should give some account of the country; for it appears, i can give but little of the road. only this i understand, that when this engine, by help of these artificial wings, has raised it self up to a certain height, the wings are as useful to keep it from falling into the moon, as they were before to raise it, and keep it from falling back into this region again. this may happen from an alteration of centers, and gravity having past a certain line, the equipoise changes its tendency, the magnetick quality being beyond it, it inclines of course, and pursues a center, which it finds in the lunar world, and lands us safe upon the surface. i was told, i need take no bills of exchange with me, nor letters of credit; for that upon my first arrival, the inhabitants would be very civil to me: that they never suffered any of our world to want any thing when they came there: that they were very free to show them any thing, and inform them in all needful cases; and that whatever rarities the country afforded, should be expos'd immediately. i shall not enter into the customs, geography, or history of the place, only acquaint the reader, that i found no manner of difference in any thing natural, except as hereafter excepted, but all was exactly as is here, an elementary world, peopled with folks, as like us as if they were only inhabitants of the same continent, but in a remote climate. the inhabitants were men, women, beasts, birds, fishes, and insects, of the same individual species as ours, the latter excepted: the men no wiser, better, nor bigger than here; the women no handsomer or honester than ours: there were knaves and honest men, honest women and whores of all sorts, countries, nations and kindreds, as on this side the skies. they had the same sun to shine, the planets were equally visible as to us, and their astrologers were as busily impertinent as ours, only that those wonderful glasses hinted before made strange discoveries that we were unacquainted with; by them they could plainly discover, that this world was their moon, and their world our moon; and when i came first among them, the people that flockt about me, distinguisht me by the name of, the man that came out of the moon. i cannot, however, but acquaint the reader, with some remarks i made in this new world, before i come to any thing historical. i have heard, that among the generallity of our people, who being not much addicted to revelation, have much concern'd themselves about demonstrations, a generation have risen up, who to solve the difficulties of supernatural systems, imagine a mighty vast something, who has no form but what represents him to them as one great eye: this infinite optick they imagine to be natura naturans, or power-forming; and that as we pretend the soul of man has a similitude in quality to its original, according to a notion some people have, who read that so much ridicul'd old legend, call'd bible, that man was made in the image of his maker: the soul of man, therefore, in the opinion of these naturallists, is one vast optick power diffus'd through him into all his parts, but seated principally in his head. from hence they resolve all beings to eyes, some more capable of sight and receptive of objects than others; and as to things invisible, they reckon nothing so, only so far as our sight is deficient, contracted or darkened by accidents from without, as distance of place, interposition of vapours, clouds, liquid air, exhalations, &c. or from within, as wandring errors, wild notions, cloudy understandings, and empty fancies, with a thousand other interposing obstacles to the sight, which darken it, and prevent its operation; and particularly obstruct the perceptive faculties, weaken the head, and bring mankind in general to stand in need of the spectacles of education as soon as ever they are born: nay, and as soon as they have made use of these artificial eyes, all they can do is but to clear the sight so far as to see that they can't see; the utmost wisdom of mankind, and the highest improvement a man ought to wish for, being but to be able to see that he was born blind; this pushes him upon search after mediums for the recovery of his sight, and away he runs to school to art and science, and there he is furnisht with horoscopes, microscopes, tellescopes, caliscopes, money-scopes, and the d---l and and all of glasses, to help and assist his moon-blind understanding; these with wonderful skill and ages of application, after wandring thro' bogs and wildernesses of guess, conjectures, supposes, calculations, and he knows not what, which he meets with in physicks, politicks, ethicks, astronomy, mathematicks, and such sort of bewildring things, bring him with vast difficulty to a little minute-spot, call'd demonstration; and as not one in ten thousand ever finds the way thither, but are lost in the tiresome uncouth journey, so they that do, 'tis so long before they come there, that they are grown old and good for little in the journey; and no sooner have they obtained a glimering of this universal eye-sight, this eclaricissment general, but they die, and have hardly time to show the way to those that come after. now, as the earnest search after this thing call'd demonstration fill'd me with desires of seeing every thing, so my observations of the strange multitude of mysteries i met with in all men's actions here, spurr'd my curiosity to examine, if the great eye of the world had no people to whom he had given a clearer eye-sight, or at least, that made a better use of it than we had here. if pursuing this search i was much delighted at my arrival into china, it cannot be thought strange, since there we find knowledge as much advanc'd beyond our common pitch, as it was pretended to be deriv'd from a more ancient original. we are told, that in the early age of the world, the strength of invention exceeded all that ever has been arrived to since: that we in these latter ages, having lost all that pristine strength of reason and invention, which died with the ancients in the flood, and receiving no helps from that age, have by long search arriv'd at several remote parts of knowledge, by the helps of reading conversation and experience; but that all amounts to no more than faint imitations, apings, and resemblances of what was known in those masterly ages. now, if it be true as is hinted before, that the chinese empire was peopled long before the flood; and that they were not destroyed in the general deluge in the days of noah; 'tis no such strange thing, that they should so much out-do us in this sort of eye-sight we call general knowledge, since the perfections bestow'd on nature, when in her youth and prime met with no general suffocation by that calamity. but if i was extreamly delighted with the extraordinary things i saw in those countries, you cannot but imagine i was exceedingly mov'd, when i heard of a lunar world; and that the way was passable from these parts. i had heard of a world in the moon among some of our learned philosophers, and moor, as i have been told, had a moon in his head; but none of the fine pretenders, no not bishop wilkins, ever found mechanick engines, whose motion was sufficient to attempt the passage. a late happy author indeed, among his mechanick operations of the spirit, had found out an enthusiasm, which if he could have pursued to its proper extream, without doubt might, either in the body or out of the body, have landed him somewhere hereabout; but that he form'd his system wholly upon the mistaken notion of wind, which learned hypothesis being directly contrary to the nature of things in this climate, where the elasticity of the air is quite different and where the pressure of the atmosphere has for want of vapour no force, all his notion dissolv'd in its native vapour call'd wind, and flew upward in blew strakes of a livid flame call'd blasphemy, which burnt up all the wit and fancy of the author, and left a strange stench behind it, that has this unhappy quality in it, that every body that reads the book, smells the author, tho' he be never so far off; nay, tho' he took shipping to dublin, to secure his friends from the least danger of a conjecture. but to return, to the happy regions of the lunar continent, i was no sooner landed there, and had lookt about me, but i was surpriz'd with the strange alteration of the climate and country; and particularly a strange salubrity and fragrancy in the air, which i felt so nourishing, so pleasant and delightful, that tho' i could perceive some small respiration, it was hardly discernable, and the least requisite for life, supplied so long that the bellows of nature were hardly imployed. but as i shall take occasion to consider this in a critical examination into the nature, uses and advantages of good lungs, of which by it self, so i think fit to confine my present observations to things more particularly concerning the eye-sight. i was, you may be sure, not a little surprized, when being upon an eminence i found my self capable by common observation, to see and distinguish things at the distance of 100 miles and more, and seeking some information on this point, i was acquainted by the people, that there was a certain grave philosopher hard by, that could give me a very good account of things. it is not worth while to tell you this man's lunar name, of whether he had a name, or no; 'tis plain, 'twas a man in the moon; but all the conference i had with him was very strange: at my first coming to him, he askt me if i came from the world in the moon? i told him, no: at which he began to be angry, told me i ly'd, he knew whence i came as well as i did; for he saw me all the way. i told him, i came to the world in the moon, and began to be as surly as he. it was a long time before we could agree about it, he would have it, that i came down from the moon; and i, that i came up to the moon: from this, we came to explications, demonstrations, spheres, globes, regions, atmospheres, and a thousand odd diagrams, to make the thing out to one another. i insisted on my part, as that my experiment qualified me to know, and challeng'd him to go back with me to prove it. he, like a true philosopher, raised a thousand scruples, conjectures, and spherical problems, to confront me; and as for demonstrations, he call'd 'em fancies of my own. thus we differ'd a great many ways; both of us were certain, and both uncertain; both right, and yet both directly contrary; how to reconcile this jangle was very hard, till at last this demonstration happen'd, the moon as he call'd it, turning her blind-side upon us three days after the change, by which, with the help of his extraordinary glasses, i that knew the country, perceived that side the sun lookt upon was all moon, and the other was all world; and either i fancy'd i saw or else really saw all the lofty towers of the immense cities of china: upon this, and a little more debate, we came to this conclusion, and there the old man and i agreed, that they were both moons and both worlds, this a moon to that, and that a moon to this, like the sun between two looking-glasses, and shone upon one another by reflection, according to the oblique or direct position of each other. this afforded us a great deal of pleasure; for all the world covet to be found in the right, and are pleas'd when their notions are acknowledg'd by their antagonists: it also afforded us many very useful speculations, such as these; 1. how easy it is for men to fall out, and yet all sides to be in the right? 2. how natural it is for opinion to despise demonstration? 3. how proper mutual enquiry is to mutual satisfaction? from the observation of these glasses, we also drew some puns, crotchets and conclusions. 1st, that the whole world has a blind-side, a dark-side, and a bright-side, and consequently so has every body in it. 2dly, that the dark-side of affairs to day, may be the bright-side to morrow; from whence abundance of useful morals were also raised; such as, 1. no man's fate is so dark, but when the sun shines upon it, it will return its rays, and shine for it self. 2. all things turn like the moon, up to day, down to morrow, full and change, flux and reflux. 3. humane understanding is like the moon at the first quarter, half dark. 3dly, the changing-sides ought not to be thought so strange, or so much condemn'd by mankind, having its original from the lunar influence, and govern'd by the powerful operation of heavenly motion. 4thly, if there be any such thing as destiny in the world, i know nothing man is so predestinated to, as to be eternally turning round; and but that i purpose to entertain the reader with at least a whole chapter or section of the philosophy of humane motion, spherically and hypocritically examin'd and calculated, i should inlarge upon that thought in this place. having thus jumpt in our opinions, and perfectly satisfied our selves with demonstration, that these worlds were sisters, both in form, function, and all their capacities; in short, a pair of moons, and a pair of worlds, equally magnetical, sympathetical, and influential, we set up our rest as to that affair, and went forward. i desir'd no better acquaintance in my new travels, than this new sociate; never was there such a couple of people met; he was the man in the moon to me, and i the man in the moon to him; he wrote down all i said, and made a book of it, and call'd it, news from the world in the moon; and all the town is like to see my minutes under the same title; nay, and i have been told, he published some such bold truths there, from the allegorical relations he had of me from our world: that he was call'd before the publick authority, who could not bear the just reflections of his damn'd satyrical way of writing; and there they punisht the poor man, put him in prison, ruin'd his family; and not only fin'd him ultra tenementum, but expos'd him in the high places of their capital city, for the mob to laugh at him for a fool: this is a punishment not unlike our pillory, and was appointed for mean criminals, fellows that cheat and couzen people, forge writings, forswear themselves, and the like; and the people, that it was expected would have treated this man very ill, on the contrary pitied him, wisht those that set him there placed in his room, and exprest their affections, by loud shouts and acclamations, when he was taken down. but as this happen'd before my first visit to that world, when i came there all was over with him, his particular enemies were disgrac'd and turn'd out, and the man was not at all the worse receiv'd by his country-folks than he was before; and so much for the man in the moon. after we had settled the debate between us, about the nature and quality, i desir'd him to show me some plan or draft of this new world of his; upon which, he brought me out a pair of very beautiful globes, and there i had an immediate geographical description of the place. i found it less by degrees than our terrestial globe, but more land and less water; and as i was particularly concern'd to see something in or near the same climate with our selves, i observ'd a large extended country to the north, about the latitude of 50 to 56 northern distance; and enquiring of that country, he told me it was one of the best countries in all their world: that it was his native climate, and he was just a going to it, and would take me with him. he told me in general, the country was good, wholsome, fruitful, rarely scituate for trade, extraordinarily accommodated with harbours, rivers and bays for shipping; full of inhabitants; for it had been peopled from all parts, and had in it some of the blood of all the nations in the moon. he told me, as the inhabitants were the most numerous, so they were the strangest people that liv'd; both their natures, tempers, qualities, actions, and way of living, was made up of innumerable contradictions: that they were the wisest fools, and the foolishest wise men in the world; the weakest strongest, richest poorest, most generous covetous, bold cowardly, false faithful, sober dissolute, surly civil, slothful diligent, peaceable quarrelling, loyal seditious nation that ever was known. besides my observations which i made my self, and which could only furnish me with what was present, and which i shall take time to inform my reader with as much care and conciseness as possible; i was beholding to this old lunarian, for every thing that was historical or particular. and first, he inform'd me, that in this new country they had very seldom any clouds at all, and consequently no extraordinary storms, but a constant serenity, moderate breezes cooled the air, and constant evening exhalations kept the earth moist and fruitful; and as the winds they had were various and strong enough to assist their navigation, so they were without the terrors, dangers, ship-wrecks and destructions, which he knew we were troubled with in this our lunar world, as he call'd it. the first just observation i made of this was, that i suppos'd from hence the wonderful clearness of the air, and the advantage of so vast optick capacities they enjoy'd, was obtained: alas! says the old fellow, you see nothing to what some of our great eyes see in some parts of this world, nor do you see any thing compar'd to what you may see by the help of some new invented glasses, of which i may in time let you see the experiment; and perhaps you may find this to be the reason why we do not so abound in books as in your lunar world; and that except it be some extraordinary translations out of your country, you will find but little in our libraries, worth giving you a great deal of trouble. we immediately quitted the philosophical discourse of winds, and i began to be mighty inquisitive after these glasses and translations, and 1st, i understood here was a strange sort of glass that did not so much bring to the eye, as by i know not what wonderful operation carried out the eye to the object, and quite varies from all our doctrine of opticks, by forming several strange phanomena in sight, which we are utterly unacquainted with; nor could vision, rarification, or any of our school-mens fine terms, stand me in any stead in this case; but here was such additions of piercing organs, particles of transparence, emission, transmission, mediums, contraction of rays, and a thousand applications of things prepar'd for the wondrous operation, that you may be sure are requisite for the bringing to pass something yet unheard of on this side the moon. first we were inform'd, by the help of these glasses, strange things, which pass in our world for non-entities, is to be seen, and very perceptible; for example: state polity, in all its meanders, shifts, turns, tricks, and contraries, are so exactly delineated and describ'd, that they are in hopes in time to draw a pair of globes out, to bring all those things to a certainty. not but that it made some puzzle, even among these clear-sighted nations, to determine what figure the plans and drafts of this undiscover'd world of mysteries ought to be describ'd in: some were of opinion, it ought, to be an irregular centagon, a figure with an hundred cones or angles: since the unaccountables of this state-science, are hid in a million of undiscover'd corners; as the craft, subtilty and hypocrisy of knaves and courtiers have concealed them, never to be found out, but by this wonderful d---l-scope, which seem'd to threaten a perfect discovery of all those nudities, which have lain hid in the embrio, and false conceptions of abortive policy, ever since the foundation of the world. some were of opinion, this plan ought to be circular, and in a globular form, since it was on all sides alike, full of dark spots, untrod mazes, waking mischiefs, and sleeping mysteries; and being delineated like the globes display'd, would discover all the lines of wickedness to the eye at one view: besides, they fancied some sort of analogy in the rotundity of the figure, with the continued circular motion of all court-policies, in the stated round of universal knavery. others would have had it hyrogliphical as by a hand in hand, the form representing the affinity between state policy here, and state policy in the infernal regions, with some unkind similies between the oeconomy of satan's kingdom, and those of most of the temporal powers on earth; but this was thought too unkind. at last it was determin'd, that neither of these schemes were capable of the vast description; and that, therefore, the drafts must be made single, tho' not dividing the governments, yet dividing the arts of governing into proper distinct schemes, viz. 1. a particular plan of publick faith; and here we had the experiment immediately made: the representation is quallified for the meridian of any country, as well in our world as theirs; and turning it to'ards our own world, there i saw plainly an exchequer shut up, and 20000 mourning families selling their coaches, horses, whores, equipages, &c. for bread, the government standing by laughing, and looking on: hard by i saw the chamber of a great city shut up, and forty thousand orphans turn'd adrift in the world; some had no cloaths, some no shoes, some no money; and still the city magistrates calling upon other orphans, to pay their money in. these things put me in mind of the prophet ezekiel, and methoughts i heard the same voice that spoke to him, calling me, and telling me, come hither, and i'll show thee greater abominations than these: so looking still on that vast map, by the help of these magnifying glasses, i saw huge fleets hir'd for transport-service, but never paid; vast taxes anticipated, that were never collected; others collected and appropriated, but misapplied: millions of talleys struck to be discounted, and the poor paying 40 per cent, to receive their money. i saw huge quantities of money drawn in, and little or none issued out; vast prizes taken from the enemy, and then taken away again at home by friends; ships sav'd on the sea, and sunk in the prize offices; merchants escaping from enemies at sea, and be pirated by sham embargoes, counterfeit claims, confiscations, &c a-shoar: there we saw turkey-fleets taken into convoys, and guarded to the very mouth of the enemy, and then abandon'd for their better security: here we saw mons. pouchartrain shutting up the town-house of paris, and plundring the bank of lyons. 2. here we law the state of the war among nations; here was the french giving sham-thanks for victories they never got, and some body else adressing and congratulating the sublime glory of running away: here was te deum for sham-victories by land; and there was thanksgiving for ditto by sea: here we might see two armies fight, both run away, and both come and thank god for nothing: here we saw a plan of a late war like that in ireland; there was all the officers cursing a dutch general, because the damn'd rogue would fight, and spoil a good war, that with decent management and good husbandry, might have been eek't out this twenty years; there was whole armies hunting two cows to one irishman, and driving of black cattle declar'd the noble end of the the war: here we saw a country full of stone walls and strong towns, where every campaign, the trade of war was carried on by the soldiers, with the same intriguing as it was carried on in the council chambers; there was millions of contributions raised, and vast sums collected, but no taxes lessen'd; whole plate fleets surpriz'd, but no treasure found; vaft sums lost by enemies, and yet never found by friends, ships loaded with volatile silver, that came away full, and gat home empty; whole voyages made to beat no body, and plunder every body; two millions robb'd from the honest merchants, and not a groat sav'd for the honest subjects: there we saw captains lifting men with the governments money, and letting them go again for their own; ships fitted out at the rates of two millions a year, to fight but once in three years, and then run away for want of powder and shot. there we saw partition treaties damned, and the whole given away, confederations without allies, allies without quota's, princes without armies, armies without men, and men without money, crowns without kings, kings without subjects, more kings than countries, and more countries than were worth fighting for. here we could see the king of france upbraiding his neighbours with dishonourably assisting his rebels, though the mischief was, they did it not neither; and in the same breath, assisting the hungarian rebels against the emperor; m. ld n. refusing so dishonourable an action, as to aid the rebellious camisars, but leaguing with the admirant de castile, to invade the dominions of his master to whom he swore allegiance: here we saw protestants fight against protestants, to help papists, papists against papists to help protestants, protestants call in turks, to keep faith against christians that break it: here we could see swedes fighting for revenge, and call it religion; cardinals deposing their catholick prince, to introduce the tyranny of a lutheran and call it liberty; armies electing kings, and call it free choice; french conquering savoy, to secure the liberty of italy. 3. the map of state policy contains abundance of civil transactions, no where to be discover'd but in this wonderful country, and by this prodigious invention: as first, it shows an eminent prelate running in every body's debt to relieve the poor, and bring to god robbery for burnt-offering: it opens a door to the fate of nations; and there we might see the duke of s--y bought three times, and his subjects sold every time; portugal bought twice, and neither time worth the earnest; spain bought once, but loth to go with the bidder; venice willing to be bought, if there had been any buyers; bavaria bought, and run away with the money; the emperor bought and sold, but bilkt the chapman; the french buying kingdoms he can't keep, the dutch keep kingdoms they never bought; and the english paying their money without purchase. in matters of civil concerns, here was to be seen religion with no out-side, and much out-side with no religion, much strife about peace, and no peace in the design: here was plunder without violence, violence without persecution, conscience without good works, and good works without charity; parties cutting one anothers throats for god's sake, pulling down churches de propoganda fide, and making divisions by way of association. here we have peace and union brought to pass the shortest way, extirpation and destruction prov'd to be the road to plenty and pleasure: here all the wise nations, a learned author would have quoted, if he could have found them, are to be seen, who carry on exclusive laws to the general safety and satisfaction of their subjects. occasional bills may have here a particular historical, categorical description: but of them by themselves. here you might have the rise, original, lawfulness, usefulness, and necessity of passive obedience, as fairly represented as a system of divinity, and as clearly demonstrated as by a geographical description; and which exceeds our mean understanding here, 'tis by the wonderful assistance of these glasses, plainly discerned to be coherent with resistance, taking arms, calling in foreign powers, and the like. --here you have a plain discovery of c. of e. politicks, and a map of loyalty: here 'tis as plainly demonstrated as the nose in a man's face, provided he has one, that a man may abdicate, drive away, and dethrone his prince, and yet be absolutely and intirely free from, and innocent of the least fracture, breach, incroachment, or intrenchment, upon the doctrine of non-resistance: can shoot at his prince without any design to kill him, fight against him without raising rebellion, and take up arms, without leaving war against his prince. here they can persecute dissenters, without desiring they should conform, conform to the church they would overthrow; pray for the prince they dare not name, and name the prince they do not pray for. by the help of these glasses strange insights are made, into the vast mysterious dark world of state policy; but that which is yet more strange, and requires vast volumes to descend to the particulars of, and huge diagrams, spheres, charts, and a thousand nice things to display is, that in this vast intelligent discovery it is not only made plain, that those things are so, but all the vast contradictions are made rational, reconciled to practice, and brought down to demonstration. german clock-work, the perpetual motions, the prim mobilies of our short-sighted world, are trifles to these nicer disquisitions. here it would be plain and rational, why a parliament-man will spend 5000 l. to be chosen, that cannot get a groat honestly by setting there: it would be easily made out to be rational, why he that rails most at a court is soonest receiv'd into it: here it would be very plain, how great estates are got in little places, and double in none at all. 'tis easy to be prov'd honest and faithful to victual the french fleet out of english stores, and let our own navy want them; a long sight, or a large lunar perspective, will make all these things not only plain in fact, but rational and justifiable to all the world. 'tis a strange thing to any body without doubt, that has not been in that clear-sighted region, to comprehend, that those we call high-flyers in england are the only friends to the dissenters, and have been the most diligent and faithful in their interest, of any people in the nation; and yet so it is, gentlemen, and they ought to have the thanks of the whole body for it. in this advanc'd station, we see it plainly by reflexion, that the dissenters, like a parcel of knaves, have retained all the high-church-men in their pay; they are certainly all in their pension-roll: indeed, i could not see the money paid them there, it was too remote; but i could plainly see the thing; all the deep lines of the project are laid as true, they are so tackt and consolidated together, that if any one will give themselves leave to consider, they will be most effectually convinced, that the high-church and the dissenters here, are all in a caball, a meer knot, a piece of clock-work; the dissenters are the dial-plate, and the high-church the movement, the wheel within the wheels, the spring and the screw to bring all things to motion, and make the hand on the dial-plate point which way the dissenters please. for what else have been all the shams they have put upon the governments, kings, states, and people they have been concern'd with? what schemes have they laid on purpose to be broken? what vast contrivances, on purpose to be ridicul'd and expos'd? the men are not fools, they had never v---d to consolidate a b--but that they were willing to save the dissenters, and put it into a posture, in which they were sure it would miscarry. i defy all the wise men of the moon to show another good reason for it. methinks i begin to pity my brethren, the moderate men of the church, that they cannot see into this new plot, and to wish they would but get up into our consolidator, and take a journey to the moon, and there, by the help of these glasses, they would see the allegorical, symbollical, hetrodoxicallity of all this matter; it would make immediate converts of them; they would see plainly, that to tack and consolidate, to make exclusive laws, to persecute for conscience, disturb, and distress parties; these are all phanatick plots, meer combinations against the church, to bring her into contempt, and to fix and establish the dissenters to the end of the chapter: but of this i shall find occasion to speak occasionally, when an occasion presents it self, to examine a certain occasional bill, transacting in these lunar regions, some time before i had the happiness to arrive there. in examining the multitude and variety of these most admirable glasses for the assisting the opticks, or indeed the formation of a new perceptive faculty; it was you may be sure most surprizing to find there, that art had exceeded nature; and the power of vision was assisted to that prodigious degree, as even to distinguish non-entity it self; and in these strange engines of light it could not but be very pleasing, to distinguish plainly betwixt being and matter, and to come to a determination, in the so long canvast dispute of substance, vel materialis, vel spiritualis; and i can solidly affirm, that in all our contention between entity and non-entity, there is so little worth meddling with, that had we had these glasses some ages ago, we should have left troubling our heads with it. i take upon me, therefore, to assure my reader, that whoever pleases to take a journey, or voyage, or flight up to these lunar regions, as soon as ever he comes ashoar there, will presently be convinc'd, of the reasonableness of immaterial substance, and the immortality, as well as immateriality of the soul: he will no sooner look into these explicating glasses, but he will be-able to know the separate meaning of body, soul, spirit, life, motion, death, and a thousand things that wise-men puzzle themselves about here, because they are not fools enough to understand. here too i find glasses for the second sight, as our old women call it. this second sight has been often pretended to in our regions, and some famous old wives have told us, they can see death, the soul, futurity, and the neighbourhood of them, in the countenance: by this wonderful art, these good people unfold strange mysteries, as under some irrecoverable disease, to foretell death; under hypocondriack melancholy, to presage trouble of mind; in pining youth, to predict contagious love; and an hundred other infallibilities, which never fail to be true as soon as ever they come to pass, and are all grounded upon the same infallibility, by which a shepherd may always know when any one of his sheep is rotten, viz. when he shakes himself to pieces. but all this guess and uncertainty is a trifle, to the vast discoveries of these explicatory optick-glasses; for here are seen the nature and consequences of secret mysteries: here are read strange mysteries relating to predestination, eternal decrees, and the like: here 'tis plainly prov'd, that predestination is, in spight of all enthusiastick pretences, so intirely committed into man's power, that whoever pleases to hang himself to day, won't live till to morrow: no, though forty predestination prophets were to tell him, his time was not yet come. there abstruse points are commonly and solemnly discuss'd here; and these people are such hereticks, that they say god's decrees are all subservient to the means of his providence; that what we call providence is a subjecting all things to the great chain of causes and consequences, by which that one grand decree, that all effects shall obey, without reserve to their proper moving causes, supercedes all subsequent doctrines, or pretended decrees, or predestination in the world: that by this rule, he that will kill himself, god, nature, providence, or decree, will not be concern'd to hinder him, but he shall die; any decrees, predestination, or fore-knowledge of infinite power, to the contrary in any wise, notwithstanding that it is in a man's power to throw himself into the water, and be drown'd; and to kill another man, and he shall die, and to say, god appointed it, is to make him the author of murther, and to injure the murtherer in putting him to death for what he could not help doing. all these things are received truths here, and no doubt would be so every where else, if the eyes of reason were opened to the testimony of nature, or if they had the helps of these most incomparable glasses. some pretended, by the help of these second-sight glasses, to see the common periods of life; and others said, they could see a great way beyond the leap in the dark: i confess, all i could see of the first was, that holding up the glass against the sea, i plainly saw, as it were on the edge of the horizon, these words, the verge of life and death is here. 'tis best to know where 'tis, but not how far. as to seeing beyond death, all the glasses i lookt into for that purpose, made but little of it; and these were the only tubes that i found defective; for here i could discern nothing but clouds, mists, and thick dark hazy weather; but revolving in my mind, that i had read a certain book in our own country, called, nature; it presently occurr'd, that the conclusion of it, to all such as gave themselves the trouble of making out those foolish things call'd inferences, was always look up; upon which, turning one of their glasses up, and erecting the point of it towards the zenith, i saw these words in the air, revelation, in large capital letters. i had like to have rais'd the mob upon me for looking upright with this glass; for this, they said, was prying into the mysteries of the great eye of the world; that we ought to enquire no farther than he has inform'd us, and to believe what he had left us more obscure: upon this, i laid down the glasses, and concluded, that we had moses and the prophets, and should be never the likelier to be taught by one come from the moon. in short, i found, indeed, they had a great deal more knowledge of things than we in this world; and that nature, science, and reason, had obtained great improvements in the lunar world; but as to religion, it was the same equally resign'd to and concluded in faith and redemption; so i shall give the world no great information of these things. i come next to some other strange acquirements obtained by the helps of these glasses; and particularly for the discerning the imperceptibles of nature; such as, the soul, thought, honesty, religion, virginity, and an hundred other nice things, too small for humane discerning. the discoveries made by these glasses, as to the soul, are of a very diverting variety; some hieroglyphical, and emblematical, and some demonstrative. the hieroglyphical discoveries of the soul make it appear in the image of its maker; and the analogy is remarkable, even in the very simily; for as they represent the original of nature as one great eye, illuminating as well as discerning all things; so the soul, in its allegorical, or hieroglyphical resemblance, appears as a great eye, embracing the man, enveloping, operating, and informing every part; from whence those sort of people who we falsly call politicians, acting so much to put out this great eye, by acting against their common understandings, are very aptly represented by a great eye, with six or seven pair of spectacles on; not but that the eye of their souls may be clear enough of it self, as to the common understanding; but that they happen to have occasion to look sometimes so many ways at once, and to judge, conclude, and understand so many contrary ways upon one and the same thing; that they are fain to put double glasses upon their understanding, as we look at the solar ecclipses, to represent 'em in different lights, least their judgments should not be wheadled into a compliance with the hellish resolutions of their wills; and this is what i call the emblematick representation of the soul. as for the demonstrations of the soul's existence, 'tis a plain case, by these explicative glasses, that it is, some have pretended to give us the parts; and we have heard of chyrurgeons, that could read an anatomical lecture on the parts of the soul; and these pretend it to be a creature in form, whether camelion or salamandar, authors have not determin'd; nor is it compleatly discover'd when it comes into the body, or how it goes out, or where its locality or habitation is, while 'tis a resident. but they very aptly show it, like a prince, in his seat, in the middle of his palace the brain, issuing out his incessant orders to innumerable troops of nerves, sinews, muscles, tendons, veins, arteries, fibres, capilaris, and useful officers, call'd organici, who faithfully execute all the parts of sensation, locomotion, concoction, &c. and in the hundred thousandth part of a moment, return with particular messages for information, and demand new instructions. if any part of his kingdom, the body, suffers a depredation, or an invasion of the enemy, the expresses fly to the seat of the soul, the brain, and immediately are order'd back to smart, that the body may of course send more messengers to complain; immediately other expresses are dispatcht to the tongue, with orders to cry out, that the neighbours may come in and help, or friends send for the chyrurgeon: upon the application, and a cure, all is quiet, and the same expresses are dispatcht to the tongue to be hush, and say no more of it till farther orders: all this is as plain to be seen in these engines, as the moon of our world from the world in the moon. as the being, nature, and scituation of humane soul is thus spherically and mathematically discover'd, i could not find any second thoughts about it in all their books, whether of their own composition or by translation; for it was a general received notion, that there could not be a greater absurdity in humane knowledge, than to imploy the thoughts in questioning, what is as plainly known by its consequences, as if seen with the eye; and that to doubt the being or extent of the soul's operation, is to imploy her against her self; and therefore, when i began to argue with my old philosopher, against the materiality and immortality of this mystery we call soul, he laught at me, and told me, he found we had none of their glasses in our world; and bid me send all our scepticks, soul-sleepers, our cowards, bakers, kings and bakewells, up to him into the moon, if they wanted demonstrations; where, by the help of their engines, they would make it plain to them, that the great eye being one vast intellect, infinite and eternal, all inferior life is a degree of himself, and as exactly represents him as one little flame the whole mass of fire; that it is therefore uncapable of dissolution, being like its original in duration, as well as in its powers and faculties, but that it goes and returns by emission, regression, as the great eye governs and determines; and this was plainly made out, by the figure i had seen it in, viz. an eye, the exact image of its maker: 'tis true, it was darkened by ignorance, folly and crime, and therefore oblig'd to wear spectacles; but tho' these were defects or interruptions in its operation, they were none in its nature; which as it had its immediate efflux from the great eye, and its return to him must partake of himself, and could not but be of a quality uncomatable, by casualty or death. from this discourse we the more willingly adjourned our present thoughts, i being clearly convinced of the matter; and as for our learned doctors, with their second and third thoughts, i told him i would recommend them to the man in the moon for their farther illumination, which if they refuse to accept, it was but just they should remain in a wood, where they are, and are like to be, puzzling themselves about demonstrations, squaring of circles, and converting oblique into right angles, to bring out a mathematical clock-work soul, that will go till the weight is down, and then stand still till they know not who must wind it up again. however, i cannot pass over a very strange and extraordinary piece of art which this old gentleman inform'd me of, and that was an engine to screw a man into himself: perhaps our country-men may be at some difficulty to comprehend these things by my dull description; and to such i cannot but recommend, a journey in my engine to the moon. this machine that i am speaking of, contains a multitude of strange springs and screws, and a man that puts himself into it, is very insensibly carried into vast speculations, reflexions, and regular debates with himself: they have a very hard name for it in those parts; but if i were to give it an english name, it should be call'd, the cogitator, or the chair of reflection. and first, the person that is seated here feels some pain in passing some negative springs, that are wound up, effectually to shut out all injecting, disturbing thoughts; and the better to prepare him for the operation that is to follow, and this is without doubt a very rational way; for when a man can absolutely shut out all manner of thinking, but what he is upon, he shall think the more intensly upon the one object before him. this operation past, here are certain screws that draw direct lines from every angle of the engine to the brain of the man, and at the same time, other direct lines to his eyes; at the other end of which lines, there are glasses which convey or reflect the objects the person is desirous to think upon. then the main wheels are turn'd, which wind up according to their several offices; this the memory, that the understanding; a third the will, a fourth the thinking faculty; and these being put all into regular motions, pointed by direct lines to their proper objects, and perfectly uninterrupted by the intervention of whimsy, chimera, and a thousand fluttering damons that gender in the fancy, but are effectually lockt out as before, assist one another to receive right notions, and form just ideas of the things they are directed to, and from thence the man is impower'd to make right conclusions, to think and act like himself, suitable to the sublime qualities his soul was originally blest with. there never was a man went into one of these thinking engines, but he came wiser out than he was before; and i am persuaded, it would be a more effectual cure to our deism, atheism, scepticism, and all other scisms, than ever the italian's engine, for curing the gout by cutting off the toe. this is a most wonderful engine, and performs admirably, and my author gave me extraordinary accounts of the good effects of it; and i cannot but tell my reader, that our sublunar world suffers millions of inconveniencies, for want of this thinking engine: i have had a great many projects in my head, how to bring our people to regular thinking, but 'tis in vain without this engin; and how to get the model of it i know not; how to screw up the will, the understanding, and the rest of the powers; how to bring the eye, the thought, the fancy, and the memory, into mathematical order, and obedient to mechanick operation; help boyl, norris, newton, manton, hammond, tillotson, and all the learned race, help phylosophy, divinity, physicks, oeconomicks, all's in vain, a mechanick chair of reflection is the only remedy that ever i found in my life for this work. as to the effects of mathematical thinking, what volumes might be writ of it will more easily appear, if we consider the wondrous usefulness of this engine in all humane affairs; as of war, peace, justice, injuries, passion, love, marriage, trade, policy, and religion. when a man has been screw'd into himself, and brought by this art to a regularity of thought, he never commits any absurdity after it; his actions are squared by the same lines, for action is but the consequence of thinking; and he that acts before he thinks, sets humane nature with the bottom upward. m. would never have made his speech, nor the famous b----ly wrote a book, if ever they had been in this thinking engine: one would have never told us of nations he never saw, nor the other told us, he had seen a great many, and was never the wiser. h. had never ruin'd his family to marry whore, thief and beggar-woman, in one salliant lady, after having been told so honestly, and so often of it by the very woman her self. our late unhappy monarch had never trusted the english clergy, when they preacht up that non-resistance, which he must needs see they could never practice; had his majesty been screw'd up into this cogitator, he had presently reflected, that it was against nature to expect they should stand still, and let him tread upon them: that they should, whatever they had preacht or pretended to, hold open their throats to have them be cut, and tye their own hands from resisting the lord's anointed. had some of our clergy been screw'd in this engine, they had never turned martyrs for their allegiance to the late king, only for the lechery of having dr. s------in their company. had our merchants been manag'd in this engine, they had never trusted their turkey fleet with a famous squadron, that took a great deal of care to convoy them safe into the enemies hands. had some people been in this engine, when they had made a certain league in the world, in order to make amends for a better made before, they would certainly have consider'd farther, before they had embarkt with a nation, that are neither fit to go abroad nor stay at home. as for the thinking practis'd in noble speeches, occasional bills, addressings about prerogative, convocation disputes, turnings in and turnings out at ours, and all the courts of christendom, i have nothing to say to it. had the duke of bavaria been in our engine, he would never have begun a quarrel, which he knew all the powers of europe were concern'd to suppress, and lay all other business down till it was done. had the elector of saxony past the operation of this engine, he would never have beggar'd a rich electorate, to ruin a beggar'd crown, nor sold himself for a kingdom hardly worth any man's taking: he would never have made himself less than he was, in hopes of being really no greater; and stept down from a protestant duke, and imperial elector, to be a nominal mock king with a shadow of power, and a name without honour, dignity or strength. had mons. tallard been in our engine, he would not only not have attackt the confederates when they past the morass and rivulet in his front, but not have attackt them at all, nor have suffer'd them to have attackt him, it being his business not to have fought at all, but have linger'd out the war, till the duke of savoy having been reduced, the confederate army must have been forced to have divided themselves of course, in order to defend their own. some that have been very forward to have us proceed the shortest way with the scots, may be said to stand in great need of this chair of reflection, to find out a just cause for such a war, and to make a neighbour-nation making themselves secure, a sufficient reason for another neighbour-nation to fall upon them: our engine would presently show it them in a clear sight, by way of paralel, that 'tis just with the fame right as a man may break open a house, because the people bar and bolt the windows. if some-body has chang'd hands there from bad to worse, and open'd instead of closing differences in those cases, the cogitator migyt have brought them, by more regular thinking, to have known that was not at all the method of bringing the s---s to reason. our cogitator would be a very necessary thing to show some people, that poverty and weakness is not a sufficient ground to oppress a nation, and their having but little trade, cannot be a sufficient ground to equip fleets to take away what they have. i cannot deny, that i have often thought they have had something of this engine in our neighbouring antient kingdom, since no man, however we pretend to be angry, but will own they are in the right of it, as to themselves, to vote and procure bills for their own security, and not to do as others demand without conditions fit to be accepted: but of that by it self. there are abundance of people in our world, of all sorts and conditions, that stand in need of our thinking engines, and to be screw'd into themselves a little, that they might think as directly as they speak absurdly: but of these also in a class by it self. this engine has a great deal of philosophy in it; and particularly, 'tis a wonderful remedy against poreing; and as it was said of mons. jurieu at amsterdam, that he us'd to lose himself in himself; by the assistance of this piece of regularity, a man is most effectually secur'd against bewildring thoughts, and by direct thinking, he prevents all manner of dangerous wandring, since nothing can come to more speedy conclusions, than that which in right lines, points to the proper subject of debate. all sorts of confusion of thoughts are perfectly avoided and prevented in this case, and a man is never troubled with spleen, hyppo, or mute madness, when once he has been thus under the operation of the screw: it prevents abundance of capital disasters in men, in private affairs; it prevents hasty marriages, rash vows, duels, quarrels, suits at law, and most sorts of repentance. in the state, it saves a government from many inconveniences; it checks immoderate ambition, stops wars, navies and expeditions; especially it prevents members making long speeches when they have nothing to say; it keeps back rebellions, insurrections, clashings of houses, occasional bills, tacking, &c. it has a wonderful property in our affairs at sea, and has prevented many a bloody fight, in which a great many honest men might have lost their lives that are now useful fellows, and help to man and manage her majesty's navy. what if some people are apt to charge cowardice upon some people in those cases? 'tis plain that cannot be it, for he that dare incur the resentment of the english mob, shows more courage than would be able to carry him through forty sea-fights. 'tis therefore for want of being in this engine, that we censure people, because they don't be knocking one another on the head, like the people at the bear-garden; where, if they do not see the blood run about, they always cry out, a cheat; and the poor fellows are fain to cut one another, that they may not be pull'd a pieces; where the case is plain, they are bold for fear, and pull up courage enough to fight, because they are afraid of the people. this engine prevents all sorts of lunacies, love-frenzies, and melancholy-madness, for preserving the thought in right lines to direct objects, it is impossible any deliriums, whimsies, or fluttering air of ideas, can interrupt the man, he can never be mad; for which reason i cannot but recommend it to my lord s---, my lord n---, and my lord h-----, as absolutely necesssary to defend them from the state-madness, which for some ages has possest their families, and which runs too much in the blood. it is also an excellent introduction to thought, and therefore very well adapted to those people whose peculiar talent and praise is, that they never think at all. of these, if his grace of b---d would please to accept advice from the man in the moon, it should be to put himself into this engine, as a soveraign cure to the known disease call'd the thoughtless evil. but above all, it is an excellent remedy, and very useful to a sort of people, who are always travelling in thought, but never deliver'd into action; who are so exceeding busy at thinking, they have no leisure for action; of whom the late poet sung well to the purpose; ---some modern coxcombs, who retire to think, 'cause they have nought to do; for thoughts were giv'n for actions government, where action ceases, thought impertinent: the sphere of action is life's happiness, and he that thinks beyond, thinks like an ass. rochest. poems, p. 9. these gentlemen would make excellent use of this engine, for it would teach 'em to dispatch one thing before they begin another; and therefore is of singular use to honest s----, whose peculiar it was, to be always beginning projects, but never finish any. the variety of this engine, its uses, and improvements, are innumerable, and the reader must not expect i can give any thing like a perfect description of it. there are yet another sort of machine, which i never obtained a sight of, till the last voyage i made to this lunar orb, and these are called elevators: the mechanick operations of these are wonderful, and helpt by fire; by which the sences are raised to all the strange extreames we can imagine, and whereby the intelligent soul is made to converse with its own species, whether embody'd or not. those that are rais'd to a due pitch in this wondrous frame, have a clear prospect into the world of spirits, and converse with visions, guardian-angels, spirits departed, and what not: and as this is a wonderful knowledge, and not to be obtained, but by the help of this fire; so those that have try'd the experiment, give strange accounts of sympathy, prexistence of souls, dreams, and the like. i confess, i always believ'd a converse of spirits, and have heard of some who have experienced so much of it, as they could obtain upon no body else to believe. i never saw any reason to doubt the existent state of the spirit before embody'd, any more than i did of its immortality after it shall be uncas'd, and the scriptures saying, the spirit returns to god that gave it, implies a coming from, or how could it be call'd a return. nor can i see a reason why embodying a spirit should altogether interrupt its converse with the world of spirits, from whence it was taken; and to what else shall we ascribe guardian angels, in which the scripture is also plain; and from whence come secret notices, impulse of thought, pressing urgencies of inclination, to or from this or that altogether involuntary; but from some waking kind assistant wandring spirit, which gives secret hints to its fellow-creature, of some approaching evil or good, which it was not able to foresee. for spirits without the helps of voice converse. i know we have supplied much of this with enthusiasm and conceited revelation; but the people of this world convince us, that it may be all natural, by obtaining it in a mechanick way, viz. by forming something suitable to the sublime nature, which working by art, shall only rectify the more vigorous particles of the soul, and work it up to a suitable elevation. this engine is wholly applied to the head, and works by injection; the chief influence being on what we call fancy, or imagination, which by the heat of strong ideas, is fermented to a strange heighth, and is thus brought to see backward and forward every way, beyond it self: by this a man fancies himself in the moon, and realizes things there as distinctly, as if he was actually talking to my old phylosopher. this indeed is an admirable engine, 'tis compos'd of an hundred thousand rational consequences, five times the number of conjectures, supposes, and probabilities, besides an innumerable company of fluttering suggestions, and injections, which hover round the imagination, and are all taken in as fast as they can be concocted and digested there: these are form'd into ideas, and some of those so well put together, so exactly shap'd, so well drest and set out by the additional fire of fancy, that it is no uncommon thing for the person to be intirely deceived by himself, not knowing the brat of his own begetting, nor be able to distinguish between reality and representation: from hence we have some people talking to images of their own forming, and seeing more devils and spectres than ever appear'd: from hence we have weaker heads not able to bear the operation, seeing imperfect visions, as of horses and men without heads or arms, light without fire, hearing voices without sound, and noises without shapes, as their own fears or fancies broke the phanomena before the intire formation. but the more genuine and perfect use of these vast elevations of the fancy, which are perform'd, as i said, by the mechanick operation of innate fire, is to guide mankind to as much fore-sight of things, as either by nature, or by the aid of any thing extranatural, may be obtain'd; and by this exceeding knowledge, a man shall forebode to himself approaching evil or good, so as to avoid this, or be in the way of that; and what if i should say, that the notices of these things are not only frequent, but constant, and require nothing of us, but to make use of this elevator, to keep our eyes, our ears, and our fancies open to the hints; and observe them; you may suppose me, if you please, come by this time into those northern kingdoms i mention'd before, where my old philosopher was a native, and not to trouble you with any of the needful observations, learned inscriptions, &c. on the way, according to the laudable practices of the famous mr. br---mly, 'tis sufficient to tell you i found there an opulent, populous, potent and terrible people. i found them at war with one of the greatest monarchs of the lunar world, and at the same time miserably rent and torn, mangl'd and disorder'd among themselves. as soon as i observ'd the political posture of their affairs, (for here a man sees things mighty soon by the helps of such a masterly eye-sight as i have mention'd) and remembring what is said for our instruction, that a kingdom divided against its self cannot stand; i ask'd the old gentleman if he had any estate in that country? he told me, no great matter; but ask'd me why i put that question to him? because, said i, if this people go on fighting and snarling at all the world, and one among another in this manner, they will certainly be ruin'd and undone, either subdu'd by some more powerful neighbour; whilst one party will stand still and see the t'others throat cut, tho' their own turn immediately follows, or else they will destroy and devour one another. therefore i told him i would have him turn his estate into money, and go some where else; or go back to the other world with me. no, no, reply'd the old man, i am in no such fear at this time, the scale of affairs is very lately chang'd here, says he, in but a very few years. i know nothing of that, said i, but i am sure there never was but one spot of ground in that world which i came from, that was divided like them, and that's that very country i liv'd in. here are three kingdoms of you in one spot, said i, one has already been conquer'd and subdu'd, the t'other suppres'd its native lnhabitants, and planted it with her own, and now carries it with so high a hand over them of her own breed, that she limits their trade, stops their ports, when the inhabitants have made their manufactures, these wont give them leave to send them abroad, impose laws upon them, refuse to alter and amend those they would make for themselves, make them pay customs, excises, and taxes, and yet pay the garrisons and guards that defend them, themselves; press their inhabitants to their fleets, and carry away their old veteran troops that should defend them, and leave them to raise more to be serv'd in the same manner, will let none of their mony be carry'd over thither, nor let them coin any of their own; and a great many such hardships they suffer under the hand of this nation as meer slaves and conquer'd people, tho' the greatest part of the traders are the people of the very nation that treats 'em thus. on the other hand, this creates eternal murmurs, heart-burnings and regret, both in the natives and the transplanted inhabitants; the first have shewn their uneasiness by frequent insurrections and rebellions, for nature prompts the meanest animal to struggle for liberty; and these struggles have often been attended with great cruelty, ravages, death, massacres, and ruin both of families and the country it self: as to the transplanted inhabitants, they run into clandestine trade, into corresponding with their masters enemies, victualling their navies, colonies and the like, receiving and importing their goods in spight of all the orders and directions to the contrary. these are the effects of divisions, and feuds on that side; on the other hand there is a kingdom entire unconquer'd and independent, and for the present, under the same monarch with the rest.---but here their feuds are greater than with the other, and more dangerous by far because national: this kingdom joins to the north part of the first kingdom, and terrible divisions ly among the two nations. the people of these two kingdoms are call'd if you please for distinction sake, for i cannot well make you understand their hard names, solunarians and nolunarians, these to the south and those to the north, the solunarians were divided in their articles of religion; the governing party, or the establish'd church, i shall call the solunarian church; but the whole kingdom was full of a sort of religious people call'd crolians, who like our dissenters in england profess divers sub-divided opinions by themselves, and cou'd not, or wou'd not, let it go which way it will, joyn with the establish'd church. on the other hand, the establish'd church in the northern kingdom was all crolians, but full of solunarians in opinions, who were dissenters there, as the crolians were dissenters in the south, and this unhappy mixture occasion'd endless feuds, divisions, sub-divisions and animosities without number, of which hereafter. the northern men are bold, terrible numerous and brave, to the last degree, but poor, and by the encroachments of their neighbours, growing poorer every day. the southern are equally brave, more numerous and terrible, but wealthy and care not for wars, had rather stay at home and quarrel with one another, than go abroad to fight, making good an old maxim, too poor t'agree, and yet too rich to fight. between these the feud is great, and every day growing greater; and those people who pretend to have been in the cogitator or thinking engine tell us, all the lines of consequences in that affair point at a fatal period between the kingdoms. the complaints also are great, and back'd with fiery arguments on both sides; the northern men say, the solunarians have dealt unjustly and unkindly by them in several articles; but the southern men reply with a most powerful argument, viz. they are poor, and therefore ought to be oppress'd, suppress'd, or any thing. but the main debate is like to lye upon the article of choosing a king; both the nations being under one government at present, but the settlement ending in the reigning line, the northern men refuse to joyn in government again, unless they have a rectification of some conditions in which, they say, they have the worst of it. in this case, even the southern men themselves, say, they believe the nolunarians have been in the chair of reflection, the thinking engine, and that having screw'd their understandings into a direct position to that matter before them, they have made a right judgment of their own affairs, and with all their poverty stand on the best foot as to right. but as the matter of this northern quarrel comes under a second head, and is more properly the subject of a second voyage to the moon; the reader may have it more at large consider'd in another class, and some farther enlightnings in that affair than perhaps can be reasonably expected of me here. but of all the feuds and brangles that ever poor nation was embroild in, of all the quarrels, the factions and parties that ever the people of any nation thought worth while to fall out for, none were ever in reality so light, in effect so heavy, in appearance so great, in substance so small, in name so terrible, in nature so trifling, as those for which this southern country was altogether by the ears among themselves. and this was one reason why i so earnestly enquir'd of my lunarian philosopher, whether he had an estate in that country or no. but having told him the cause of that enquiry, he reply'd, there was one thing in the nature of his country-men which secur'd them from the ruin which usually attended divided nations, viz. that if any foreign nation thinking to take the advantage of their intestine divisions fell upon them in the highest of all their feuds, they'd lay aside their parties and quarrels and presently fall in together to beat out the common enemy; and then no sooner had they obtain'd peace abroad, by their conduct and bravery, but they would fall to cutting one anothers throats again at home as naturally as if it had been their proper calling, and that for trifles too, meer trifles. very well, said i to my learned self, pretty like my own country still, that whatever peace they have abroad, are sure to have none at home. to come at the historical account of these lunarian dissentions, it will be absolutely necessary to enter a little into the story of the place, at least as far as relates to the present constitution, both of the people, the government, and the subject of their present quarrels. and first we are to understand, that there has for some ages been carry'd on in these countries, a private feud or quarrel among the people, about a thing call'd by them upogyla, with us very vulgarly call'd religion. this difference, as in its original it was not great, nor indeed upon points accounted among themselves essential, so it had never been a difference of any height, if there had not always been some one thing, or other, hapning in the state which made the court-polititians think it necessary to keep the people busy and embroil'd, to prevent their more narrow inspection into depredations and encroachments on their liberties, which was always making on them by the court. 'tis not deny'd but there might be a native want of charity in the inhabitant, adapting them to feud, and particularly qualifying them to be alwavs piquing one another; and some of their own nation, who by the help of the famous perspectives before-mentioned, pretend to have seen farther into the insides of nature and constitution than other people, tell us the cross lines of nature which appear in the make of those particular people, signify a direct negative as to the article of charity and good neighbour-hood. 'twas particularly unhappy to this wrangling people, that reasons of state should always fall in, to make that uncharitableness and continual quarrelling humour necessary to carry on the publick affairs of the nation, and may pass for a certain proof, that the state was under some diseases and convulsions, which, like a body that digests nothing so well as what is hurtful to its constitution, makes use of those things for its support, which are in their very nature, fatal to its being, and must at last tend to its destruction. but as this however enclin'd them to be continually snarling at one another, so as in all quarrels it generally appears one side must go down. the prevailing party therefore always kept the power in their hands, and as the under were always subject to the lash they soon took care to hook their quarrel into the affairs of state, and so join religious differences, and civil differences together. these things had long embroil'd the nation, and frequently involv'd them in bitter enmities, feuds, and quarrels, and once in a tedious, ruinous, and bloody war in their own bowels, in which, contrary to all expectation, this lesser party prevail'd. and since the allegorick relation may bear great similitude with our european affairs on this side the moon: i shall for the ease of expression, and the better understanding of the reader, frequently call them by the same names our unhappy parties are call'd by in england, as solunnarian churchmen, and crolian dissenters, at the same time desiring my reader to observe, that he is always to remember who it is we are talking of, and that he is by no means to understand me of any person, party, people, nation, or place on this side the moon, any expression, circumstance, similitude, or appearance to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding. this premis'd, i am to tell the reader that the last civil war in this lunar country ended in the victors confounding their own conquests by their intestine broils, they being as is already noted a most eternally quarrelling nation; upon this new breach, they that first began the war, turn'd about, and pleading that they took up arms to regulate the government, not to overthrow it, fell in with the family of their kings, who had been banish'd, and one of them destroy'd, and restor'd the crown to the family, and the nation to the crown, just for all the world as the presbyterians in england did, in the case of king charles the second. the party that was thus restor'd, accepted the return the others made to their duty, and their assistance in restoring the family of their monarch, but abated not a tittle of the old rancour against them as a party which they entertain'd at their first taking arms, not allowing the return they had made to be any attonement at all for the crimes they had been guilty of before. 'tis true they pass'd an act or grant of general pardon, and oblivion, as in all such cases is usual, and as without which the other would never ha' come in, or have join'd powers to form the restoration they were bringing to pass, but the old feud of religion continu'd with this addition, that the dissenters were rebels, murtherers, king-killers, enemies to monarchy and civil government, lovers of confusion, popular, anarchial governments, and movers of sedition; that this was in their very nature and principles, and the like. in this condition, and under these mortifications this party of people liv'd just an egyptian servitude, viz. of 40 years, in which time they were frequently vex'd with persecution, harass'd, plunder'd, fin'd, imprisoned, and very hardly treated, insomuch that they pretend to be able to give an account of vast sums of their country-mony, levy'd upon them on these occasions, amounting as i take it to 2 millions of lunatians, a coin they keep their accounts by there, and much about the value of our pound sterling; besides this they were hook't into a great many sham plots, and sworn out of their lives and estates in such a manner, that in the very next reign the government was so sensible of their hard treatment, that they revers'd several sentences by the same authority that had executed them; a most undeniable proof they were asham'd of what had been done; at last, the prince who was restor'd as abovesaid, dyed, and his brother mounted the throne; and now began a third scene of affairs, for this prince was neither church-man, nor dissenter, but of a different religion from them all, known in that country by the name of abrogratzianism, and this religion of his had this one absolutely necessary consequence in it, that a man could not be sincerely and heartily of this, but he must be an implacable hater of both the other. as this is laid down as a previous supposition, we are with the same reason to imagine this prince to be entirely bent upon the suppression and destruction of both the other, if not absolutely as to life and estate, yet entirely as to religion. to bring this the more readily to pass like a true polititian, had his methods and particulars been equally politick with his generals, he began at the right end, viz. to make the breach between the solunnarian church, and the crolian dissenters as wide as possible, and to do this it was resolv'd to shift sides, and as the crown had always took part with the church, crush'd, humbl'd, persecuted, and by all means possible mortify'd the dissenters, as is noted in the reign of his predecessor. this prince resolv'd to caress, cherish, and encourage the crolians by all possible arts and outward endearments, not so much that they purpos'd them any real favour, for the destruction of both was equally determin'd, nor so much that they expected to draw them over to abrogratzianism, but two reasons may be suppos'd to give rise to this project. 1. the lunarian church party had all along preach'd up for a part of their religion, that absolute undisputed obedience, was due from every subject to their prince without any reserve, reluctance or repining; that as to resistance, it was fatal to body, soul, religion, justice and government; and tho' the doctrine was repugnant to nature, and to the very supreme command it self, yet he that resisted, receiv'd to himself damnation, just for all the world like our doctrine of passive obedience. now tho' these solunarian church-men did not absolutely believe all they said themselves to be true, yet they found it necessary to push these things to the uttermost extremities, because they might the better fix upon the crolian dissenters, the charge of professing less loyal principles than they. for as to the crolians, they profess'd openly they would pay obedience to the prince, as far as the laws directed, but no farther. these things were run up to strange heights, and the people were always falling out about what they would do, or wou'd not do, if things were so or so, as they were not, and were never likely to be; and the hot men on both sides were every now and then going together by the ears about chimeras, shadows, may-be's and supposes. the hot men of the solunarian church were for knocking the crolians in the head, because as they said they were rebels, their fathers were rebels, and they would certainly turn rebels again upon occasion. the crolians insisted upon it, that they had nothing to do with what was done before they were born, that if they were criminal, because their fathers were so, then a great many who were now of the solunarian church were as guilty as they, several of the best members of that church having been born of crolian parents. in the matter of loyalty they insisted upon it, they were as loyal as the solunarians, for that they were as loyal as nature, reason and the laws both of god and man requir'd, and what the other talk'd of more, was but a meer pretence, and so it would be found if ever their prince should have occasion to put them to the tryal, that he that pretended to go beyond the power of nature and reason, must indeed go beyond them, and they never desir'd to be brought into the extream, but they were ready at any time to shew such proofs, and give such demonstrations of their loyalty, as would satisfy any reasonable prince, and for more they had nothing to say. in this posture of affairs, this new prince found his subjects when he came to the crown, the solunarian church caress'd him, and notwithstanding his being devoted to the abrogratzian faith, they crown'd him with extraordinary acclamations. they were the rather enclin'd to push this forward by how much they thought it would singularly mortify the crolians, and all the sorts of dissenters, for they had all along declar'd their abhorrence of the abrogratzians to such a degree that they publickly endeavour'd to have got a general concurrence of the whole nation in the publick cortez, or dyet of the kingdom, to have joyn'd with them in excluding this very prince by name, and all other princes that should ever embrace the abrogratzian faith. and it wanted but a very little of bringing it to pass, for almost all the great men of the nation, tho' solunarians, yet that were men of temper, moderation, and fore-sight, were for this exclusive law. but the high priests and patriarchs of the solunarian church prevented it, and upon pretence of this passive obedience principle, made their interest and gave their voices for crowning, or entailing the crown and government on the head of one of the most implacable enemies both to their religion and civil right that ever the nation saw; but they liv'd to repent it too late. this conquest over the crolians and the moderate solunarians, if it did not suppress them entirely, it yet gave the other part such an ascendant over them, that they made no doubt when that prince came to the crown, they had done so much to oblige him, that he could deny them nothing, and therefore in expectation they swallow'd up the whole body of the crolians at once, and began to talk of nothing less than banishing them to the northern part of the country, or to certain islands, and countries a vast way off, where formerly great numbers of them had fled for shelter in like cases. and this was the more probable by an unhappy stroke these crolians attempted to strike, but miscarry'd in at the very beginning of this prince's reign: for as they had always profest an aversion to this prince on account of his religion, as soon as their other king was dead, they set up one of his natural sons against this king, which the solunarians had so joyfully crown'd. this young prince invaded his dominions, and great numbers of the most zealous crolians joyn'd him---but to cut the story short, he was entirely routed by the forces of the new prince, for all the solunarian church joyn'd with him against the crolians without any respect to the interest of religion, so they overthrew their brethren: the young invaded prince was taken and put to death openly, and great cruelties were exercis'd in cold blood upon the poor unhappy people that were taken in the defeat! thus a second time these loyal solunarian church-men establish'd their enemy, and built up what they were glad afterwards to pull down again, and to beg the assistance of those crolians whom they had so rudely handled, to help them demolish the power they had erected themselves, and which now began to set its foot upon the throat of those that nourish'd and supported it. upon this exceeding loyalty and blind assistance given to their prince, the solunarians made no question but they had so eternally bound him to them, that it would be in their power to pull down the very name of crolianism, and utterly destroy it from the nation. but the time came on to undeceive them, for this prince, whose principle as an abrogratzian, was to destroy them both, as it happened, was furnish'd with counsellors and ecclesiasticks of his own profession, ten thousand times more bent for their general ruin, than himself. for abstracted from the venom and rancour of his profession as an abrogratzian, and from the furious zeal of his bramin, priests, and religious people, that continually hung about him, and that prompted him to act against his temper and inclination, by which he ruin'd all, he was else a forward and generous prince, and likely to have made his people great and flourishing. but his furious church-men ruin'd all his good designs, and turn'd all his projects to compass the introduction of his own religion into his dominions. nay, and had he not fatally been push'd on by such as really design'd his ruin, to drive this deep design on too hastily and turn the scale of his management from a close and conceal'd, to an open and profess'd design, he might have gone a great way with it.--------had he been content to have let that have been twenty year a doing, which he impatiently as well as preposterously attempted all at once.------wise men have thought he might in time have supprest the solunarian religion, and have set up his own. to give a short scheme of his proceedings, and with them of the reason of his miscarriage. 1. having defeated the rebellious crolians, as is before noted, and reflecting on the danger he was in upon the sudden progress of that rebellion, for indeed he was within a trifle of ruin in that affair; and had not the crolians been deceiv'd by the darkness of the night and led to a large ditch of water, which they could not pass over, they had certainly surpriz'd and overthrown his army, and cut them in pieces, before they had known who had hurt them. upon the sense of this danger, he takes up a pretence of necessity for the being always ready to resist the factious crolians, as he call'd them, and by that insinuation hooks himself into a standing army in time of peace; ----nay, and so easy were the solunarian church to yield up any point, which they did but imagin would help to crush their brethren the crolians, that they not only consented to this unusual invasion of their antient liberties, but sent up several testimonials of their free consent, nay, and of their joy of having arriv'd to so great a happiness, as to have a prince that setting aside the formality of laws would vouchsafe to govern them by the glorious method of a standing army.-----these testimonials were things not much unlike our addresses in england, and which when i heard i could not but remember our case, in the time of the late king james, when the city of carlisle in their address, thankt his majesty for the establishing a standing army in england in time of peace, calling it the strength, and glory of the kingdom. so strong is the ambition and envy of parties, these solunarian gentlemen not grudging to put out one of their own eyes, so they might at the same time put out both the eyes of their enemies; the crolians rather consented to this badge of their own slavery, and brought themselves who were a free people before, under the power and slavery of the sword. the ease with which this prince got over so considerable a point as this, made him begin to be too credulous and to perswade himself that the solunarian church-men were really in earnest, as to their pageant-doctrin of non-resistance, and that as he had seen them bear with strange extravagancies on the crolian part, they were real and in earnest when they preach'd that men ought to obey for conscience's sake, whatever hardship were impos'd upon them, and however unjust, or contrary to the laws of god, nature, reason, or their country; what principle in the world could more readily prompt a prince to attempt what he so earnestly coveted, as this zealous prince did the restoring the abrogratzian faith, for since he had but two sorts of people to do with; one he had crush'd by force, and had brought the other to profess it their religion, their duty, and their resolution to bear every thing he thought fit to impose upon them, and that they should be damn'd if they resisted, the work seem'd half done to his hand. and indeed when i reflected on the coherence of things, i could not so much blame this prince for his venturing upon the probability, for whoever was but to go up to this lunar world and read the stories of that time, with what fury the hot men of the solunarian church acted against the dissenting crolians, and with what warmth they assisted their prince against them, and how cruelly they insulted them after they were defeated in their attempt of dethroning him, how zealously they preach'd up the doctrine of absolute undisputed resignation to his will, how frequently they obey'd several of his encroachments upon their liberties, and what solemn protestations they made to submit to him in any thing, and to stand by and assist him in whatever he commanded them to the last drop, much with the same zeal and forwardness, as our life-and-fortune men did here in england. i say, when all this was consider'd, i could not so much condemn his credulity, nor blame him for believing them, for no man could have doubted their sincerity, but he that at the same time must have taxt them with most unexampled hipocrisie. for the solunarians now began to discern their prince was not really on their side, that neither in state matters any more than religion, he had any affection for them, and the first absolute shock he gave them, was in publishing a general liberty to the crolians. 'tis true this was not out of respect to the crolian religion any more than the solunarian, but purely because by that means he made way for an introduction of the abrogratzian religion which now began to appear publickly in the country. but however, as this was directly contrary to the expectation of the solunarians, it gave them such a disgust against their prince, that from that very time being disappointed in the soveraign authority they expected, they entred into the deepest and blackest conspiracy against their prince and his government that ever was heard of. many of the crolians were deluded by the new favour and liberty they receiv'd from the prince to believe him real, and were glad of the mortification of their brethren; but the more judicious seeing plainly the prince's design, declar'd against their own liberty, because given them by an illegal authority, without the assent of the whole body legally assembled. when the solunarians saw this they easily reconcil'd themselves to the crolians, at least from the outside of the face, for the carrying on their design, and so here was a nation full of plots, here was the prince and his abrogratzians plotting to introduce their religion, here was a parcel of blind short-sighted crolians plotting to ruin the solunarian establishment, and weakly joining with the abrogratzians to satisfy their private resentments; and here was the wiser crolians joining heartily with the solunarians of all sorts, laying aside private resentments, and forgetting old grudges about religion, in order to ruin the invading projects of the prince and his party. there was indeed some verbal conditions past between them, and the solunarians willing to bring them into their party promised them upon the faith of their nation, and the honour of the solunarian religion, that there should be no more hatred, disturbance or persecution for the sake of religion between them, but that they would come to a temper with them, and always be brethren for the future. they declared that persecution ran contrary to their religion in general, and to their doctrin in particular; and backt their allegations with some truths they have not since thought fit to like, nor much to regard. however by this artifice, and on these conditions, they brought the crolians to join with them in their resolutions to countermine their designing prince; these indeed were for doing it by the old way down-right, and to oppose oppression with force, a doctrin they acknowledg'd, and profest to join with all the lunar part of mankind in the practice, and began to tell their brethren how they had impos'd upon themselves and the world, in pretending to absolute submission against nature and universal lunarian practice. but a cunning fellow personating a solunarian, and who was in the plot, gravely answer'd them thus, 'look ye, gentlemen, we own with you that nature, reason, law, justice, and custom of nations is on your side, and that all power derives from, centers in, and on all recesses or demises of power returns to its great original the party governed: nay we own our great eye from whom all the habitable parts of this globe are inlightned, has always directed us to practice what nature thus dictates, always approv'd and generally succeeded the attempt of dethroning tyrants. but our case differs, we have always pretended to this absolute undisputed obedience, which we did indeed to gain the power of your party; and if we should turn round at once to your opinion, tho' never so right, we should so fly in the face of our own doctrin, sermons, innumerable pamphlets and pretensions, as would give all our enemies too great a power over us in argument, and we should never be able to look mankind in the face: but we have laid our measures so that by prompting the king to run upon us in all sorts of bare-fac'd extreams and violences, we shall bring him to exasperate the whole nation; then we may underhand foment the breach on this side, raise the mob upon him, and by acting on both sides seem to suffer a force in falling in with the people, and preserve our reputation. 'thus we shall bring the thing to pass, betray our prince, take arms against his power, call in foreign force to do the work, and even then keep our hands seemingly out of the broil, by being pretended sticklers for our former prince; so save our reputation, and bring all to pass with ease and calmness; while the eager party of the abrogratzians will do their own work by expecting we will do it for them. the crolians astonish'd both at the policy, the depth, the knavery and the hypocrisy of the design, left them to carry it on, owning it was a masterpiece of craft, and so stood still to observe the issue, which every way answer'd the exactness of its contrivance. when i saw into the bottom of all this deceit, i began to take up new resolutions of returning back into our old world again, and going home to england, where tho' i had conceiv'd great indignation at the treatment our passive obedience men gave their prince here, and was in hopes in these my remote travels to have found out some nations of honour and principles. i was fill'd with amazement to see our moderate knaves so much out-done, and i was inform'd that all these things were meer amusements, vizors, and shams, to bring an innocent prince into the snare. would any mortal imagin who has read this short part of the story, that all this was a solunarian church plot, a meer conspiracy between these gentlemen and the crolian dissenters, only to wheedle in the unhappy prince to his own destruction, and bring the popular advantage of the mob, to a greater ascendant on the crown. of all the richlieus, mazarines, gondamours, oliver cromwels, and the whole train of polititians that our world has produc'd, the greatest of their arts are follies to the unfathomable depth of these lunarian policies; and for wheedle, lying, swearing, preaching, printing, &c. what is said in our world by priests and polititans, we thank god may be believ'd; but if ever i believe a solunarian priest preaching non-resistance of monarchs, or a solunarian polititian turning abrogratzian, i ought to be mark'd down for a fool; nor will ever any prince in that country take their word again, if ever they have their senses about 'em, but as this is a most extraordinary scene, so i cannot omit a more particular and sufficient relation of some parts of it, than i us'd to give. the solunarian clergy had carry'd on their non-resistance doctrin to such extremities, and had given this new prince such unusual demonstrations of it, that he fell absolutely into the snare, and entirely believ'd them; he had try'd them with such impositions as they would never have born from any prince in the world, nor from him neither, had they not had a deep design, and consequently stood in need of the deepest disguise imaginable; they had yielded to a standing army, and applauded it as a thing they had desir'd; they had submitted to levying taxes upon them by new methods, and illegal practices; they had yielded to the abrogation or suspension at least of their laws, when the king's absolute will requir'd it; not that they were blind, and did not see what their prince was doing, but that the black design was so deeply laid, they found it was the only way to ruin him, to push him upon the highest extreams, and then they should have their turn serv'd.---thus if he desir'd one illegal thing of them, they would immediately grant two; one would have thought they had read our bible, and the command, when a man takes away the cloak, to give him the coat also. nor was this enough, but they seem'd willing to admit of the publick exercise of the abrogratzian religion in all parts; and when the prince set it up in his own chappel, they suffered it to be set up in their cities, and towns, and the abrogratzian clergy began to be seen up and down in their very habits; a thing which had never been permitted before in that country, and which the common people began to be very uneasy at. but still the solunarian clergy, and all such of the gentry, especially as were in the plot, by their sermons, printed books, and publick discourses, carry'd on this high topping notion of absolute submission, so that the people were kept under, and began to submit to all the impositions of the prince. these things were so acted to the life, that not only the prince, but none of his abrogratzian counsellors could see the snare, the hook was so finely covered by the church-artificers, and the bait so delicious, that they all swallow'd it with eagerness and delight. but the conspirators willing to make a sure game of it, and not thinking the king, or all his counsellors would drive on so fast as they would have them, tho' they had already made a fair progress for the time, resolv'd to play home, and accordingly they persuade their prince, that they will not only submit to his arbitrary will, in matters of state, and government, but in matters of religion; and in order to carry this jest on, one of the heads of their politicks, and a person of great estem for his abilities in matters of state, being without question one of the ablest heads of all the solunarian nobility, pretended to be converted, and turn'd abrogratzian. this immediately took as they desir'd, for the prince caress'd him, and entertain'd him with all possible endearments, proferr'd him to several posts of honour and advantage, always kept him near him, consulted him in all emergencies, took him with him to the abrogian sacrifices, and he made no scruple publickly to appear there, and by these degrees and a super-achitophalian hypocrisie, so insinuated himself into the credulous prince's favour, that he became his only confident, and absolute master of all his designs. now the plot had its desir'd effect, for he push'd the king upon all manner of precipitations; and if even the abrogratzians themselves who were about the king, interpos'd for more temperate proceedings, he would call them cowards, strangers, ignorant of the temper of the lunarians, who when they were a going, might be driven, but if they were suffered to cool and consider, would face about and fall off. indeed the men of prudence and estates among his own party, i mean the abrogratzians in the country, frequently warn'd him to take more moderate measures, and to proceed with more caution; told him he would certainly ruin them all, and himself, and that there must be some body about his majesty that push'd him upon these extremes, on purpose to set all the nation in a flame, and to overthrow all the good designs, which with temper and good conduct, might be brought to perfection. had these wary councils been observ'd, and a prudence and policy agreeable to the mighty consequence of things been practis'd, the solunarian church had run a great risque of being over thrown, and to have sunk gradually in the abrogian errors, the people began to be drawn off gradually, and the familiarity of the thing made it appear less frightful to unthinking people, who had entertain'd strange notions of the monstrous things that were to be seen in it, so that common vogue had fill'd the peoples minds with ignorant aversions, that 'tis no absurdity to say, i believe there was 200000 people who would have spent the last drop of their blood against abrogratzianism, that did not know whether it was a man or a horse. this thing consider'd well, would of it self have been sufficient to have made the prince and his friends wary, and to have taught them to suit their measures to the nature and circumstances of things before them; but success in their beginnings blinded their eyes, and they fell into this church snare with the most unpitied willingness that could be imagin'd. the first thing therefore this new counsellor put his master upon, in order to the beginning his more certain ruin, was to introduce several of his abrograzians into places of all kinds, both in the army, navy, treasure, and civil affairs, tho' contrary to some of the general constitutions of government; he had done it into the army before, tho' it had disgusted several of his military men, but now he push'd him upon making it universal, and still the passive solunarians bore it with patience. from this tameness and submission, his next step was to argue that he might depend upon it the solunarian church had so sincerely embrac'd the doctrine of non-resistance, that they were now ripen'd not only to sit still, and see their brethren the crolians suppress'd, but to stand still and be opprest themselves, and he might assure himself the matter was now ripe, he might do just what he wou'd himself with them, they were prepar'd to bare any thing. this was the fatal stroke, for having possest the prince with the belief of this, he let loose the reins to all his long conceal'd desires. down went their laws, their liberties, their corporations, their churches, their colleges, all went to wreck, and the eager abrograzians thought the day their own. the solunarians made no opposition, but what was contain'd within the narrow circumference of petitions, addresses, prayers, and tears; and these the prince was prepar'd to reject, and upon all occasions to let them know he was resolv'd to be obey'd. thus he drove on by the treacherous advice of his new counsels, till he ripen'd all the nation for the general defection which afterward follow'd. for as the encroachments of the prince push'd especially at their church liberties, and threatened the overthrow of all their ecclesiastical privileges, the clergy no sooner began to feel that they were like to be the first sacrifice, but they immediately threw off the vizor, and beat the concionazimir; this is a certain ecclesiastick engine which is usual in cases of general alarm, as the churches signal of universal tumult. this is truly a strange engine, and when a clergy-man gets into the inside of it, and beats it, it roars, and makes such a terrible noise from the several cavities, that 'tis heard a long way; and there are always a competent number of them plac'd in all parts so conveniently, that the alarm is heard all over the kingdom in one day. i had some thoughts to have given the reader a diagram of this piece of art, but as i am but a bad drafts man, i have not yet been able so exactly to describe it, as that a scheme can be drawn, but to the best of my skill, take it as follows. 'tis a hollow vessel, large enough to hold the biggest clergy-man in the nation; it is generally an octagon in figure, open before, from the wast upward, but whole at the back, with a flat extended over it for reverberation, or doubling the sound; doubling and redoubling, being frequently thought necessary to be made use of on these occasions; 'tis very mathematically contriv'd, erected on a pedestal of wood like a windmil, and has a pair of winding stairs up to it, like those at the great tun at hiedlebergh. i could make some hierogliphical discourses upon it, from these references, thus. 1. that as it is erected on a pedestal like a wind-mill, so it is no new thing for the clergy, who are the only persons permitted to make use of it, to make it turn round with the wind, and serve to all the points of the compass. 2. as the flat over it assists to encrease the sound, by forming a kind of hollow, or cavity proper to that purpose, so there is a certain natural hollowness, or emptiness, made use of sometimes in it, by the gentlemen of the gown, which serves exceedingly to the propogation of all sorts of clamour, noise, railing, and disturbance. 3. as the stairs to it go winding up like those by which one mounts to the vast tun of wine at hiedleburgh, which has no equal in our world, so the use made of these ascending steps, is not altogether different, being frequently employ'd to raise people up to all sorts of enthusiasms, spiritual intoxications, mad and extravagant action, high exalted flights, precipitations, and all kinds of ecclesiastick drunkenness and excesses. the sound of this emblem of emptiness, the concionazimir, was no sooner heard over the nation, but all the people discover'd their readiness to join in with the summons, and as the thing had been concerted before, they send over their messengers to demand assistance from a powerful prince beyond the sea, one of their own religion, and who was allied by marriage to the crown. they made their story out so plain, and their king had by the contrivance of their achitophel rendred himself so suspected to all his neighbours, that this prince, without any hesitation, resolv'd to join with them, and accordingly makes vast preparations to invade their king. during this interval their behaviour was quite altred at home, the doctrin of absolute submission and non-resistance was heard no more among them, the concionazimir beat daily to tell all the people they should stand up to defend the rights of the church, and that it was time to look about them for the abrograzians were upon them. the eager clergy made this ecclesiastick engine sound as loud and make all the noise they could, and no men in the nation were so forward as they to acknowledge that it was a state-trick, and they were drawn in to make such a stir about the pretended doctrins of absolute submission, that they did not see the snare which lay under it, that now their eyes were opened, and they had learnt to see the power and superiority of natural right, and would be deceiv'd no longer. others were so honest to tell the truth, that they knew the emptiness and weakness of the pretence all along, and knew what they did when they preacht it up, viz. to suppress and pull down the crolians: but they thought their prince who they always serv'd in crying up that doctrin, and whose exclusion was prevented by it, would ha' had more gratitude, or at least more sense, than to try the experiment upon them, since whatever to serve his designs and their own, which they always thought well united, they were willing to pretend, he could not but see they always knew better than to suffer the practice of it in their own case. that since he had turn'd the tables upon them, 'tis true he had them at an advantage and might pretend they were knaves, and perhaps had an opportunity to call them so with some reason; but they were resolv'd, since he had drove them to the necessity of being one or t'other, tho' he might call them knaves, they would take care he should have no reason to call them fools too. thus the vapour of absolute subjection was lost on a suddain, and as if it had been preparatory to what was coming after, the experiment was quickly made; for the king persuing his encroachments upon the church, and being possest with a belief that pursuant to their open professions they would submit to any thing, he made a beginning with them, in sending his positive command to one of his superintendent priests, or patriarchs, to forbid a certain ecclesiastick to officiate any more till his royal pleasure was known. now it happen'd very unluckily that this patriarch, tho' none of the most learned of his fraternity, yet had always been a mighty zealous promoter of this blind doctrin of non-resistance, and had not a little triumph'd over and insulted the crolian dissenters upon the notion of rebellion, antimonarchical principles and obedience, with a reserve for the laws, and the like, as a scandalous practice, and comprehensive of faction, sedition, dangerous to the church and state, and the like. this reverend father was singl'd out as the first mark of the king's design; the deluded prince believ'd he could not but comply, having so publickly profest his being all submission and absolute subjection; but as this was all conceit, he was pusht on to make the assault where he was most certain to meet a repulse; and this gentleman had long since thrown off the mask, so his first order was disobey'd. the patriarch pretended to make humble remonstrances, and to offer his reasons why he could not in conscience, as he call'd it, comply. the king, who was now made but a meer engine, or machine, screw'd up or down by this false counsellor to act his approaching destruction with his own hand, was prompted to resent this repulse with the utmost indignation, to reject all manner of submissions, excuses or arguments, or any thing but an immediate, absolute compliance, according to the doctrin so often inculcated; and this he run on so high, as to put the patriarch in prison for contumacy. the patriarch as absolutely refus'd to submit, and offer'd himself to the decision of the law. now it was always a sacred rule in these lunar countries, that both king and people are bound to stand by the arbitrimnet of the law in all cases of right or claim, whether publick or private; and this has been the reason that all the princes have endeavour'd to cover their actions with pretences of law, whatever really has been in their design; for this reason the king could not refuse to bring the patriarch to a tryal, where the humour of the people first discover'd it self, for here passive obedience was try'd and cast, the law prov'd to be superior to the king, the patriarch was acquitted, his disobedience to the king justify'd, and the king's command prov'd unjust. the applause of the patriarch, the acclamations of the people, and the general rejoycings of the whole nation at this transaction, gave a black prospect to the abrograzians; and a great many of them came very honestly and humbly to the king and told him, if he continued to go on by these measures he would ruin them all; they told him what general alarm had been over the whole nation by the clamours of the clergy; and the beating of the concionazimir in all parts, inform'd him how the doctrin of absolute obedience was ridicul'd in all places, and how the clergy began to preach it back again like a witches prayer, and that it would infallibly raise the devil of rebellion in all the nation, they besought him to content himself with the liberty of their religion, and the freedom they enjoy'd of being let into places and offices of trust and honour, and to wait all reasonable occasions to encrease their advantages, and gradually to gain ground; they entreated him to consider the impossibility of reducing so mighty, so obstinate, and so resolute a nation all at once. they pleaded how rational a thing it was to expect that by degrees and good management, which by precipitate measures would be endanger'd and overthrown. had these wholsome counsels taken place in the king's mind he had been king to his last hour, and the solunarians and crolians too had been all undone, for he had certainly incroach'd upon them gradually, and brought that to pass in time which by precipitant measures he was not likely to effect. it was therefore a master-piece of policy in the solunarian church-men to place a feign'd convert near their prince, who shou'd always biass him with contrary advices, puff him up with vast prospect of success, prompt him to all extreams, and always fool him with the certainty of bringing things to pass his own way. these arts made him set light by the repulse he met with in the matter of the patriarch, and now he proceeds to make two attacks more upon the church; one was by putting some of his abrograzian priests into a college among some of the solunarian clergy; and the other was to oblige all the solunarian clergy to read a certain act of his council, in which his majesty admitted all the abrograzians, crolians, and all sorts of dissenters, to a freedom of their religious exercises, sacrifices, exorcisms, dippings, preachings, &c. and to prohibit the solunarians to molest or disturb them. now as this last was a bitter reproach to the solunarian church for all the ill treatment the dissenting crolians had receiv'd from them, and as it was exprest in the act that all such treatment was unjust and unchristian, so for them to read it in their temples, was to acknowledge that they had been guilty of most unjust and irreligious dealings to the crolians, and that their prince had taken care to do them justice. the matter of introducing the abrograzians into the colleges or seminaries of the solunarian priests, was actually against the sacred constitutions and foundation laws of those seminaries. wherefore in both these articles they not only disobey'd their prince, but they oppos'd him with those trifling things call'd laws, which they had before declar'd had no defensive force against their prince; these they had recourse to now, insisted upon the justice and right devolv'd upon them by the laws, and absolutely refus'd their compliance with his commands. the prince, pusht upon the tenters before, receiv'd their denial with exceeding resentment, and was heard with deep regret, to break out in exclamations at their unexpected faithless proceedings, and sometimes to express himself thus: horrid hypocrisy! surprizing treachery! is this the absolute subjection which in such numerous testimonials or addresses you profest, and for which you so often and so constantly branded the poor crolians, and told me that your church was wholly made up of principles of loyalty and obedience! but i'll be fully satisfied for this treatment. in the minute of one of those excursions of his passion, came into his presence the seemingly revolted lunarian noble man, and falling in with his present passions, prompts him to a speedy revenge; and propos'd his erecting a court of searches, something like the spanish inquisition, giving them plenipotentiary authority to hear and determine all ecclesiastical causes absolutely, and without appeal. he empower'd these judges to place by his absolute will, all the abrograzian students in the solunarian college, and tho' they might make a formal hearing for the sake of the form, yet that by force it should be done. he gave them power to displace all those solunarian clergy-men that had refus'd to read his act of demission to the abrograzian, and crolian dissenters, and 'twas thought he design'd to keep their revenues in petto, till he might in time fill them up to some of his own religion. the commission accordingly began to act, and discovering a full resolution to fulfil his command, they by force proceeded with the students of the solunarian college; and it was very remarkable, that even some of the solunarian patriarchs were of this number, who turn'd out their brethren the solunarian students, to place abrograzians in their room. this indeed they are said to have repented of since, but however, these it seems were not of the plot, and therefore did not foresee what was at hand. the rest of the patriarchs who were all in the grand design, and saw things ripening for its execution, upon the apprehension of this court of searches beginning with them, make an humble address to their prince, containing the reasons why they could not comply with his royal command.-----the incens'd king upbraided them with his having been told by them of their absolute and unreserv'd obedience, and refusing their submissions or their reasons, sent them all to jail, and resolv'd to have brought them before his new high court of searches, in order, as was believ'd, to have them all displac'd. and now all began to be in a flame, the sollicitations of the solunarian party, having obtain'd powerful relief abroad, they began to make suitable preparations at home. the gentry and nobility who the clergy had brought to join with them, furnish'd themselves with horses and arms, and prepar'd with their tenants and dependants to join the succours as soon as they should arrive. in short, the forreign troops they had procur'd, arriv'd, landed, and publish'd a long declaration of all the grievances which they came to redress. no sooner was this forreign army arriv'd with the prince at the head of them, but the face of affairs altred on a suddain. the king indeed, like a brave prince, drew all his forces together, and marching out of his capital city, advanced above 500 stages, things they measure land with in those countries, and much about our furlong, to meet his enemy. he had a gallant army well appointed and furnish'd, and all things much superior to his adversary, but alas the poison of disobedience was gotten in there, and upon the first march he offer'd to make towards the enemy one of his great captains with a strong party of his men went over and revolted. this example was applauded all over the nation, and by this time one of the patriarchs, even the same mention'd before that had so often preacht non-resistance of princes, lays by his sacred vestments, mitre, and staff, and exchanging his robes for a soldier's coat, mounts on horseback, and in short, appears in arms against his lord.----nor was this all, but the treacherous prelate takes along with him several solunarian lords, and persons of the highest figure, and of the houshold, and family of the king, and with him went the king's own daughter, his principle favourites and friends. at the news of this, the poor deserted prince lost all courage, and abandoning himself to despair, he causes his army to retreat without fighting a stroke, quits them and the kingdom at once, and takes sanctuary with such as could escape with him, in the court of a neighbouring prince. i have heard this prince exceedingly blam'd, for giving himself up to despair so soon. ----that he thereby abandon'd the best and faithfullest of his friends, and servants, and left them to the mercy of the solunarians; that when all these that would have forsaken him were gone, he had forces equal to his enemies; that his men were in heart, fresh and forward; that he should have stood to the last; retreated to a strong town, where his ships rod, and which was over against the territories of his great allie, to whom he might have deliver'd up the ships which were there, and have thereby made him superior at sea to his enemies, and he was already much superior at land; that there he might have been reliev'd with forces too strong for them to match, and at least might have put it to the issue of a fair battle.-----others, that he might have retreated to his own court, and capital city, and taking possession of the citadel, which was his own, might so have aw'd the citizens who were infinitely rich, and numerous, with the apprehensions of having their houses burnt, they would not have dar'd to have declar'd for his enemies, for fear of being reduc'd to heaps and ruins; and that at last he might have set the city on fire in 500 places, and left the solunarian church-men a token to remember their non-resisting doctrine by, and yet have made an easy retreat down the harbour, to other forts he had below, and might with ease have destroy'd all the shipping, as he went. 'tis confess'd had he done either, or both these things, he had left them a dear bought victory, but he was depriv'd of his counsellor, for as soon as things came to this height, the achitophel we have so often mention'd, left him also, and went away; all his abrograzian priests too fosook him, and he was so bereft of counsel that he fell into the hands of his enemies as he was making his escape, but he got away again, not without the connivance of the enemy, who were willing enough he should go; so he got a vessel to carry him over to the neighbouring kingdom, and all his armies, ships, forts, castles, magazines, and treasure, fell into his enemies hands. the neighbouring prince entertain'd him very kindly, cherish'd him, succour'd him, and furnish'd him with armies and fleets for the recovery of his dominions, which has occasion'd a tedious war with that prince, which continues to this day. thus far passive doctrins, and absolute submission serv'd a turn, bubl'd the prince, wheedled him in to take their word who profess'd it, 'till he laid his finger upon the men themselves, and that unravell'd all the cheat; they were the first that call'd in forreign power, and took up arms against their prince. nor did they end here, but all this scene being over, and the forreign prince having thus deliver'd them, and their own king being thus chas'd away, the people call themselves together, and as reason good, having been deliver'd by him from the miseries, brangles, oppressions, and divisions of the former reign, they thought they could do no less than to crown their deliverer; and having summon'd a general assembly of all their capital men, they gave the crown to this prince who had so generously sav'd them. and here again i heard the first king exceedingly blam'd for quitting his dominions, for had he staid here, tho' he had actually been in their hands, unless they wou'd have murther'd him, they could never have proceeded to the extremeties they did reach to, nor cou'd they ever have crown'd the other prince, he being yet alive and in his own dominions. but by quitting the country, they fix'd a legal period to their obedience, he having deserted their protection, and defence, and openly laid down the administration. but as these sort of politicks cannot be decided by us, unless we know the constitutions of those lunar regions, so we cannot pretend to make a decision of what might, or might not have happen'd. it remains to examine how those solunarians behav'd themselves, who had so earnedly cryed up the principles of obedience, and absolute submission. nothing was so ridiculous, now they saw what they had done, they began to repent, and upon recollection of thoughts some were so asham'd of themselves, that having broken their doctrin, and being now call'd upon to tranfpose their allegiance, truly they stopt in the mid-way, and so became martyrs on both sides. i can liken these to nothing so well as to those gentlemen of our english church, who tho' they broke into the principles of passive obedience by joining, and calling over the p. of o. yet suffer'd deprivations of benefices, and loss of their livings, for not taking the oath; as if they had not as effectually perjur'd themselves by taking up arms against their king, and joyning a forreign power, as they could possibly do afterward, by swearing to live quietly under the next king. but these nice gentlemen are infinitely outdone in these countries, for these solunarians by a true church turn, not only refuse to transpose their allegiance, but pretend to wipe their mouths as to former taking arms, and return to their old doctrins of absolute submission, boast of martyrdom, and boldly reconcile the contraries of taking up arms, and non-resistance, charging all their brethren with schism, rebellion, perjury, and the damnable sin of resistance. nor is this all, for as a great many of these solunarian church-men had no affection to this new prince, but were not equally furnished, or qualify'd for martyrdom with their brethren; they went to certain wise men, who being cunning at splitting hairs, and making distinctions, might perhaps furnish them with some mediums between loyalty and disloyalty; they apply'd themselves with great dilligence to these men, and they by deep study, and long search, either found or made the quaintest device for them that ever was heard of. by this unheard of discovery, to their great joy and satisfaction, they have arriv'd at a power, which all the wise men in our world could never pretend to, and which 'tis thought, could the description of it be regularly made, and brought down hither, would serve for the satisfaction and repose of a great many tender consciences, who are very uneasy at swearing to save their benefices. these great makers of distinction, have learn't to distinguish between active swearing, and passive swearing, between de facto loyalty, and de jure loyalty, and by this decent acquirement they obtain'd the art of reconciling swearing allegiance without loyalty, and loyalty without swearing, so that native and original loyalty may be preserv'd pure and uninterrupted, in spight of all subsequent oaths, to prevailing usurpations. many are the mysteries, and vast the advantages of this new invented method, mental reservations, inuendoes, and double meanings are toys to this, for they may be provided for in the litteral terms of an oath, but no provision can be made against this; for these men after they have taken the oath, make no scruple to declare, they only swear to be quiet, as long as they can make no disturbance; that they are left liberty still to espouse the interest and cause of their former prince, they nicely distinguish between obedience and submission, and tell you a slave taken into captivity, tho' he swears to live peaceably, does not thereby renounce his allegiance to his natural prince, nor abridge himself of a right to attempt his own liberty if ever opportunity present. had these neat distinctions been found out before, none of our solunarian clergy, no not the patriarchs themselves surely would have stood out, and suffer'd such depredations on their fortunes and characters as they did; they wou'd never have been such fools to have been turn'd out of their livings for not swearing, when they might have learnt here that they might have swore to one prince, and yet have retain'd their allegiance to another; might have taken an oath to the new, without impeachment of their old oaths to the absent prince.------it is great pity these gentlemen had not gone up to the moon for instruction in this difficult case. there they might have met with excellent logicians, men of most sublime reasons, dr. overall, dr. sherlock, and all our nice examiners of these things wou'd appear to be no body to them; for as the people in these regions have an extraordinary eye-sight, and the clearness of the air contributs much to the help of their opticks, so they have without doubt a proportion'd clearness of discerning, by which they see as far into mill-stones, and all sorts of solids, as the nature of things will permit, but above all, their faculties are blest with two exceeding advantages. 1. with an extraordinary distinguishing power, by which they can distinguish even indivisibles, part unity it self, divide principles, and distinguish truth into such and so many minute particles, till they dwindle it away into a very nose of wax, and mould it into any form they have occasion for, by which means they can distinguish themselves into or out of any opinion, either in religion, politicks or civil right, that their present emergencies may call for. 2. their reasoning faculties have this further advantage, that upon occasion they can see clearly for themselves, and prevent others from the same discovery, so that when they have occasion to see any thing which presents for their own advantage, they can search into the particulars, make it clear to themselves, and yet let it remain dark and mysterious to all the world besides. whether this is perform'd by their exceeding penetration, or by casting an artificial veil over the understandings of the vulgar, authors have not yet determin'd; but that the fact is true, admits of no dispute. and the wonderful benefit of these things in point of dispute is extraordinary, for they can see clearly they have the better of an argument, when all the rest of the world think they have not a word to say for themselves: 'tis plain to them that this or that proves a thing, when nature, by common reasoning, knows no such consequences. i confess i have seen some weak attempts at this extraordinary talent, particularly in the disputes in england between the church and the dissenter, and between the high and low church, wherein people have tollerably well convinc'd themselves when no body else could see any thing of the matter, as particularly the famous mr. w---ly about the antimonarchical principles taught in the dissenters accademies; ditto in l----sly, about the dissenters burning the city, and setting fire to their own houses to destroy their neighbours; and another famous author, who prov'd that christopher love lost his head for attempting to pull down monarchy by restoring king charles the second. these indeed are some faint resemblances of what i am upon; but alas! these are tender sort of people, that han't obtain'd a compleat victory over their consciences, but suffer that trifle to reproach them all the while they are doing it, to rebel against their resolv'd wills, and check them in the middle of the design; from which interruptions arise palpitations of the heart, sickness and squeamishness of stomach; and these have proceeded to castings and vomit, whereby they have been forc'd sometimes to throw up some such unhappy truths as have confounded all the rest, and flown in their own faces so violently, as in spight of custom has made them blush and look downward; and tho' in kindness to one another they have carefully lickt up one anothers filth, yet this unhappy squeamishness of stomach has spoil'd all the design, and turn'd the appetites of their party, to the no small prejudice of a cause that stood in need of more art and more face to carry it on as it shou'd be with a thoro'-pac'd case-harden'd policy, such as i have been relating, is compleatly obtain'd in these regions, where the arts and excellencies of sublime reasonings are carried up to all the extraordinaries of banishing scruples, reconciling contradictions, uniting opposites, and all the necessary circumstances requir'd in a compleat casuist. 'tis not easily conceivable to what extraordinary flights they have carry'd this strength of reasoning, for besides the distinguishing nicely between truth and error, they obtain a most refin'd method of distinguishing truth it self into seasons and circumstances, and so can bring any thing to be truth, when it serves the turn that happens just then to be needful, and make the same thing to be false at another time. and this method of circumstantiating matters of fact into truth or falshood, suited to occasion, is found admirably useful to the solving the most difficult phanomena of state, for by this art the solunarian church made persecution be against their principles at one time, and reducible to practice at another. they made taking up arms, and calling in foreign power to depose their prince, consistent with non-resistance, and passive obedience; nay they went farther, they distinguisht between a crolian's taking arms, and a solunarians, and fairly prov'd this to be rebellion and that to be non-resistance. nay, and which exceeded all the power of human art in the highest degrees of attainment that ever it arriv'd to on our side the moon; they turn'd the tables so dexterously, as to argument upon one sort of crolians, call'd prestarians; that tho' they repented of the war they had rais'd in former times, and protested against the violence offer'd their prince; and after another party had in spight of them beheaded him, took arms against the other party, and never left contriving their ruin, till they had brought in his son, and set him upon the throne again. yet by this most dextrous way of twisting, extending, contracting, and distinguishing of phrases and reasoning, they presently made it as plain as the sun at noon day; that these prestarians were king-killers, common-wealths men, rebels, traytors, and enemies to monarchy; that they restor'd the monarchy only in order to destroy it, and that they preach'd up sedition, rebellion and the like: this was prov'd so plain by these sublime distinctions, that they convinc'd themselves and their posterity of it, by a rare and newly acquir'd art, found out by extraordinary study, which proves the wonderful power of custom, insomuch, that let any man by this method, tell a lye over a certain number of times, he shall arrive to a satisfaction of its certainty, tho' he knew it to be a fiction before, and shall freely tell it for a truth all his life after. thus the prestarians were call'd the murtherers of the father, tho' they restor'd the son, and all the testimonials of their sufferings, protests and insurrections to prevent his death, signify'd nothing, for this method of distinguishing has that powerful charm in it, that all those trifles we call proofs and demonstration were of no use in that case. custom brought the story up to a truth, and in an instant all the crolians were hookt in under the general name of prestarians, at the same time to hook all parties in the crime. now as it happen'd at last that these solunarian gentlemen found it necessary to do the same thing themselves, viz. to lay aside their loyalty, depose, fight against, shoot bullets at, and throw bombs at their king till they frighted him away, and sent him abroad to beg his bread. the crolians began to take heart and tell them, now they ought to be friends with them, and tell them no more of rebellion and disloyalty; nay, they carry'd it so far as to challenge them to bring their loyalty to the test, and compare crolian loyalty and solunarian loyalty together, and see who had rais'd more wars, taken up arms oftenest, or appear'd in most rebellions against their kings; nay, who had kill'd most kings, the crolians or the solunarians, for there having been then newly fought a great battle between the solunarian church-men under their new prince, and the armies of foreign succours under their old king, in which their old king was beaten and forc'd to flie a second time, the crolians told them that every bullet they shot at the battle was as much a murthering their king, as cutting off the head with a hatchet was a killing his father. these arguments in our world would have been unanswerable, but when they came to be brought to the test of lunar reasoning, alas they signify'd nothing; they distinguisht and distinguisht till they brought the prestarian war to be meer rebellion, king-killing, bloody and unnatural; and the solunarian fighting against their king, and turning him adrift to seek his fortune, no prejudice at all to their loyalty, no, nor to the famous doctrine of passive obedience and absolute subjection. when i saw this, i really bewail'd the unhappiness of some of our gentlemen in england, who standing exceedingly in need of such a wonderful dexterity of argument to defend their share in our late revolution, and to reconcile it to their anticedent and subsequent conduct, should not be furnish'd from this more accurate world with the suitable powers, in order the better to defend them against the banter and just raillery of their ill-natur'd enemies the whigs. by this they might have attained suitable reserves of argument to distinguish themselves out of their loyalty, and into their loyalty, as occasion presented to dismiss this prince, and entertain that, as they found it to their purpose; but above all, they might have learnt a way how to justify swearing to one king and praying for another, eating one prince's bread and doing another prince's work, serving one king they don't love and loving another they don't serve; they might easily reconcile the schisms of the church, and prove they are still loyal subjects to king james, while they are only forc'd bonds-men to the act of settlement, for the sake of that comfortable importance, call'd food and rainment; and thus their reputation might have been sav'd, which is most unhappily tarnish'd and blur'd, with the malicious attacks of the whigs on one hand, and the non-jurants on the other. these tax them as above with rebellion by their own principles, and contradicting the doctrin of passive submission and non-resistance, by taking up arms against their prince, calling in a foreign power, and deposing him: they charge them with killing the lord's anointed, by shooting at him at the boyn, where if he was not kill'd it was his own fault, at least 'tis plain 'twas none of theirs. on the other hand, the non jurant clergy charge them with schism, declare the whole church of england schismaticks, and breakers off from the general union of the church, in renouncing their allegiance, and swearing to another power, their former prince being yet alive. 'tis confest all the answers they have been able to make to these things, are very weak and mean, unworthy men of their rank and capacities, and 'tis pity they should not be assisted by some kind communication of these lunar arguments and distinctions, without which, and till they can obtain which, a conforming jacobite must be the absurdest contradiction in nature; a thing that admits of no manner of defence, no, not by the people themselves, and which they would willingly abandon, but that they can find no side to join with them. the dissenting jacobites have some plea for themselves, for let their opinion be never so repugnant to their own interest, or general vogue, they are faithful to some thing, and they wont joyn with these people, because they have perjur'd their faith, and yet pretend to adhere to it at the same time. the conforming whigs won't receive them, because they pretend to rail at the government they have sworn to, and espouse the interest they have sworn against; so that these poor creatures have but one way left them, which is to go along with me, next time i travel to the moon, and that will most certainly do their business, for when they come down again, they will be quite another sort of men, the distinctions, the power of argument, the way of reasoning, they will be then furnish'd with will quite change the scene of the world with them, they'll certainly be able to prove they are the only people, both in justice, in politicks and in prudence; that the extremities of every side are in the wrong, they'll prove their loyalty preserv'd, untainted, thro' all the swearings, fightings, shootings and the like, and no body will be able to come to the test with them; so that upon the whole, they are all distracted if they don't go up to the moon for illumination, and that they may easily do in the next consolidator. but as this is a very long digression, and for which i am to beg my reader's pardon, being an error i slipt into from my abundant respect to these gentlemen, and for their particular instruction, i shall endeavour to make my reader amends, by keeping more close to my subject. to return therefore to the historical part of the solunarian church-men, in the world in the moon. having as is related depos'd their king, and plac'd the crown upon the head of the prince that came to their assistance, a new scene began all over the kingdom. 1. a terrible and bloody war began thro' all the parts of the lunar world, where their banish'd prince and his new allie had any interest; and the new king having a universal character over all the northern kingdoms of the moon, he brought in a great many potent kings, princes, emperors and states, to take part with him, and so it became the most general war that had happen'd in those ages. i did not trouble my self to enquire into the particular successes of this war, but at what had a more particular regard to the country from whence i came, and for whose instruction i have design'd these sheets, the strife of parties, the internal feuds at home, and their analogy to ours; and whatever is instructively to be deduced from them, was the subject of immediate inquiry. no sooner was this prince plac'd on the throne, but according to his promises to them that invited him over, he conven'd the estates of the realm, and giving them free liberty to make, alter, add or repeal, all such laws as they thought fit, it must be their own fault if they did not establish themselves upon such foundation of liberty, and right, as they desir'd; for he gave them their full swing, never interpos'd one negative upon them for several years, and let them do almost every thing they pleas'd. this full liberty had like to have spoil'd all, for as is before noted, this nation had one unhappy quality they could never be broke of, always to be falling out one among another. the crolians, according to capitulation, demanded the full liberty and toleration of religion, which the solunarians had condition'd with them for, when they drew them off from joyning with the old king, and when they promis'd to come to a temper, and to be brethren in peace and love ever after. nor were the solunarian church-men backward, either to remember, or perform the conditions but by the consent of the king, who had been by agreement made guarantee of their former stipulations, an act was drawn up in full form, and as compleat, as both satisfy'd the desires of the crolians, and testify'd the honesty and probity of the solunarians, as they were abstractedly and moderately consider'd. during the whole reign of this king, this union of parties continu'd without any considerable interruption, there was indeed brooding mischiefs which hovered over every accident, in order to generate strife, but the candor of the prince, and the prudence of his ministers, kept it under for a long time. at last an occasion offer'd it self, which gave an unhappy stroke to the nation's peace. the king thro' innumerable hazards, terrible battles and a twelve years war, had reduc'd his powerful adversary to such a necessity of peace, that he became content to abandon the fugitive king, and to own the title of this warlike prince; and upon these, among various other conditions, very honourable for him, and his allies, and by which vast conquests were surrendred, and disgorg'd to the losers, a peace was made to the universal satisfaction of all those parts of the moon that had been involv'd in a tiresome and expensive war. this peace was no sooner made, but the inhabitants of this unhappy country, according to the constant practice of the place, fell out in the most horrid manner among themselves, and with the very prince that had done all these great things for them; and i cannot forget how the old gentleman i had these relations from, being once deeply engag'd in discourse with some senators of that country, and hearing them reproach the memory of that prince from whom they receiv'd so much, and on the foot of whose gallantry and merit the constitution then subsisted, it put him into some heat, and he told them to their faces that they were guilty both of murther and ingratitude. i thought the charge was very high, but as they return'd upon him, and challeng'd him to make it out, he answer'd he was ready to do it, and went on thus. his majesty, said he, left a quiet, retir'd, compleatly happy condition, full of honour, belov'd of his country, vallu'd and esteem'd, as well as fear'd by his enemies, to come over hither at your own request, to deliver you from the encroachments and tyranny as you call'd it, of your prince. ever since he came hither, he has been your meer journy-man, your servant, your souldier of fortune, he has fought for you, fatigu'd and harras'd his person, and rob'd himself of all his peace for you; he has been in a constant hurry, and run thro' a million of hazards for you; he has convers'd with fire and blood, storms at sea, camps and trenches ashore, and given himself no rest for twelve years, and all for your use, safety and repose: in requital of which, he has been always treated with jealousies, and suspitions, with reproaches, and abuses of all sorts, and on all occasions, till the ungrateful treatment of the solunarians eat into his very soul, tir'd it with serving an unthankful nation, and absolutely broke his heart; for which reason i think him as much murther'd as his predecessor was, whose head was cut off by his subjects. i could not when this was over, but ask the old gentlemen, what was the reason of his exclamation, and how it was the people treated their prince upon this occasion? he told me it was a grievous subject, and a long one, and too long to rehearse, but he would give me a short abridgment of it; and not to look back into his wars, in which he was abominably ill serv'd, his subjects constantly ill treated him in giving him supplies too late, that he cou'd not get into the field, nor forward his preparations in time to be ready for his enemies, who frequently were ready to insult him in his quarters. by giving him sham taxes and funds, that raised little or no mony, by which he having borrow'd mony of his people by anticipation, the funds not answering, he contracted such vast debts as the nation could never pay which brought the war into disrepute, sunk the credit of his exchequer, and fill'd the nation with murmurs and complaint. by betraying his counsel and well laid designs to his enemies, selling their native country to foreigners, retarding their navies and expeditions, till the enemies were provided to receive them, betraying their merchants and trade, spending vast sums to fit out fleets, just time enough to go abroad, and do nothing, and then get home again. but as these were too numerous evils, and too long to repeat, the particular things he related to in his discourse, were these that follow. there had been a hasty peace concluded with a furious and powerful enemy, the king foresaw it would be of no continnuace, and that the demise of a neighbouring king, who by all appearance could not live long, would certainly embroil them again.----he saw that prince keep up numerous legions of forces, in order to be in a posture to break the peace with advantage. this the king fairly represented to them, and told them the necessity of keeping up such a force, and for such a time, at least as might be necessary to awe the enemy from putting any affront upon them in case of the death of that prince, which they daily expected. the party who had all along malign'd the prosperity of this prince, took fire at the offer, and here began another state plot, which tho' it hookt in two or three sets of men for different ends, yet altogether join'd in affronting and ill treating their prince, upon this article of the army. the nation had been in danger enough from the designs of former princes invading their priviledges, and putting themselves in a posture to tyrannize by the help of standing forces, and the party that first took fire at this proposal tho' the very same men who in the time of an abrogratzian prince, were for caressing him, and giving him thanks for his standing army, as has been noted before, were the very people that began the outcry against this demand, and so specious were the pretences they made, that they drew in the very crolians themselves upon the pretence of liberty, and exemption from arbitrary methods of government to oppose their king. it griev'd this good prince to be suspected of tyrannick designs, and that by a nation who he had done so much, and ventur'd so far to save from tyranny, and standing armies; 'twas in vain he represented to them the pressing occasion; in vain he gave them a description of approaching dangers, and the threatning posture of the enemies armies; in vain he told them of the probabilities of renewing the war, and how keeping but a needful force might be a means of preventing it; in vain he propos'd the subjecting what force should be necessary to the absolute power, both as to time and number of their own cortez or national assembly. it was all one, the design being form'd in the breasts of those who were neither friends to the nation, nor the king, those reasons which would have been of force in another case, made them the more eager; bitter reflections were made on the king, and scurrilous lampoons publish'd upon the subject of tyrants, and governing by armies. nothing could be more ungrateful to a generous prince, nor could any thing more deeply affect this king, than whom none ever had a more genuine, single-hearted design for the peoples good, but above all, like casar in the case of brutus, it heartily mov'd him to find himself push'd at by those very people whom he had all along seen, pretending to adhere to his interest, and the publick benefit, which he had always taken care should never be parted, and to find these people join against this proposal, as a design against their liberties, and as a foundation of tyranny heartily and sensibly afflicted him. it was a strange mistery, and not easily unriddled, that those men who had always a known aversion to the interest of the depos'd king should fall in with this party, and those that were friends to the general good, never forgave it them. all that could be said to excuse them, was the plot i am speaking of, that by carrying this point for that party, they hookt in those forward people to join in a popular cry of liberty and property, things they were never fond of before, and to make some settlement of the peoples claims which they always had oppos'd, and which they would since have been very glad to have repeal'd. so great an ascendant had the personal spleen of this party over their other principles, that they were content to let the liberties of the people be declar'd in their highest claims, rather than not obtain this one article, which they knew would so exceedingly mortify their prince, and strengthen the nations enemies. they freely join'd in acts of succession, abjuration, declaration of the power and claims of the people, and the superiority of their right to the princes prerogative, and abundance of such things, which they could never be otherwise brought to. 'tis true these were great things, but 'twas thought all this might have been obtain'd in conjunction with their prince, rather than by putting affronts and mortifications upon the man that had next to the influence of heaven been the only agent of restoring them to a power and capacity of enjoying, as well as procuring, such things as national priviledges. 'twas vigorosly alledg'd that standing armies in times of peace, were inconsistent with the publick safety, the laws and constitutions of all the nations in the moon. but these allegations were strenuously answer'd, that it was true without the consent of the great national council, it was so, but that being obtain'd, it was not illegal, and publick necessities might make that consent, not only legal, but convenient. 'twas all to no purpose, the whole was carry'd with a torrent of clamour and reflection against the good prince, who consented, because he would in nothing oppose the current of the people; but withal, told them plainly what would be the consequences of their heat, which they have effectually found true since to their cost, and to the loss of some millions of treasure. for no sooner was this army broke, which was the best ever that nation saw, and was justly the terror of the enemy, but the great monarch we mention'd before, broke all measures with this prince and the confederate nations, a proof what just apprehensions they had of his conduct, at the head of such an army. for they broke with contempt, a treaty which the prince upon a prospect of this unkindness of his people had entred into with the enemy, and which he engag'd in, if possible, to prevent a new war, which he foresaw he should be very unfit to begin, or carry on, and which they would never have dar'd to break had not this feud happen'd. it was but a little before i came into this country, when such repeated accounts came, of the incroachments, insults and preparations of their great powerful neighbour, that all the world saw the necessity of a war, and the very people who were to feel it most apply'd to the prince to begin it. he was forward enough to begin it, and in compliance with his people, resolv'd on it; but the grief of the usage he had receiv'd, the unkind treatment he had met with from those very people that brought him thither, had sunk so deep upon his spirits, that he could never recover it; but being very weak in body and mind, and join'd to a slight hurt he receiv'd by a fall from his horse, he dyed, to the unspeakable grief of all his subjects that wish'd well to their native country. this was the melancholly account of this great prince's end, and i have been told that at once every year, there is a kind of fast, or solemn commemoration kept up for the murther of that former prince, who, as i noted, was beheaded by his subjects; so it seems some of the people, who are of opinion this prince was murther'd by the ill treatment of his friends, a way which i must own, is the cruellest of deaths, keep the same day, to commemorate his death, and this is a day, in which it seems both parties are very free with one another, as to rallery and ill language. but the friends of this last prince have a double advantage, for they also commemorate the birth day of this prince, and are generally very merry on that day; and the custom is at their feast on that day, just like our drinking healths, they pledge one another to the immortal memory of their deliverer; as the historical part of this matter was absolutely necessary to introduce the following remarks, and to instruct the ignorant in those things, i hope it shall not be thought a barren digression, especially when i shall tell you that it is a most exact representation of what is yet to come in a scene of affairs, of which i must make a short abstract, by way of introduction. the deceas'd prince we have heard of, was succeeded by his sister in-law, the second daughter of the banish'd prince, a lady of an extraordinary character, of the old race of their kings, a native by birth, a solunarian by profession; exceeding pious, just and good, of an honesty peculiar to her self, and for which she was justly belov'd of all sorts and degrees of her subjects. this princess having the experience of her father and grand-father before her, join'd to her own prudence and honesty of design; it was no wonder if she prudently shun'd all manner of rash counsels, and endeavour'd to carry it with a steady hand between her contending parties. at her first coming to the crown, she made a solemn declaration of her resolutions for peace and just government; she gave the crolians her royal word, that she would inviolably preserve the toleration of their religion and worship, and always afford them her protection, and by this she hop'd they would be easy. but to the solunarians, as those among whom she had been educated, and whose religion she had always profess'd, been train'd up in, and piously persued; she express'd her self with an uncommon tenderness, told them they should be the men of her favour, and those that were most zealous for that church should have most of her countenance; and she back'd this soon after with an unparallel'd act of royal bounty to them, freely parting with a considerable branch of her royal revenue, for the poor priests of that religion, of which there were many in the remote parts of her kingdom. what vast consequences, and prodigiously differing from the design, may words have when mistaken and misayplyed by the hearers. never were significant expressions spoken from a sincere, honest and generous principle, with a single design to ingage all the subjects in the moon, to peace and union, so perverted, misapply'd and turn'd by a party, to a meaning directly contrary to the royal thoughts of the queen: for from this very expression, most zealous, grew all the divisions and subdivisions in the solunarian church, to the ruin of their own cause, and the vast advantage of the crolian interest. the eager men of the church, especially those we have been talking of, hastily catch'd at this expression of the queen, most zealous, and millions of fatal constructions, and unhappy consequences they made of it, some of which are as follows. 1. they took it to imply that the queen whatever she had said to the crolians, really design'd their destruction, and that those that were of that opinion, must be meant by the most zealous members of the solunarian church, and they could understand zeal no otherwise than their own way. 2. from this speech, and their mistaking the words most zealous, arose an unhappy distinction among the solunarians themselves, some zealous, some more zealous, which afterwards divided them into two most opposite parties, being fomented by an accident of a book publish'd on an occasion, of which presently. the consequences of this mistake, appear'd presently in the most zealous, in their offering all possible insults to the crolian dissenters, preaching them down, printing them down, and talking them down, as a people not fit to be suffer'd in the nation, and now they thought they had the game sure. down with the crolians began to be all the cry, and truly the crolians themselves began to be uneasy, and had nothing to rely upon but the queens promise, which however her majesty always made good to them. the other party proceeded so far, that they begun to insult the very queen her self, upon the matter of her word, and one of her college-priests told her plainly in print, she could not be a true friend to the solunarian church, if she did not declare war against, and root out all the crolians in her dominions. but these proceedings met with a check, by a very odd accident: a certain author of those countries, a very mean, obscure and despicable fellow, of no great share of wit, but that had a very unlucky way of telling his story, seeing which way things were a going, writes a book, and personating this high solunarian zeal, musters up all their arguments, as if they were his own, and strenuously pretends to prove that all the crolians ought to be destroy'd, hang'd, banish'd, and the d----l and all. as this book was a perfect surprize to all the country, so the proceedings about it on all sides were as extraordinary. the crolians themselves were surpriz'd at it, and so closely had the author couch'd his design, that they never saw the irony of the stile, but began to look about them, to see which way they should fly to save themselves. the men of zeal we talk'd of, were so blinded with the notion which suited so exactly with their real design, that they hugg'd the book, applauded the unknown author, and plac'd the book next their oraclar writings, or laws of religion. the author was all this while conceal'd, and the paper had all the effect he wish'd for. for as it caus'd these first gentlemen to caress, applaud and approve it, and thereby discover'd their real intention, so it met with abhorrence and detestation in all the men of principles, prudence and moderation in the kingdom, who tho' they were solunarians in religion, yet were not for blood, desolation and persecution of their brethren, but with the queen were willing they should enjoy their liberties and estates, they behaving themselves quietly and peaceably to the government. at last it came out that it was writ by a crolian; but good god! what a clamour was rais'd at the poor man, the crolians flew at him like lightning, ignorantly and blindly, not seeing that he had sacrific'd himself and his fortunes in their behalf; they rumag'd his character for reproaches, tho' they could find little that way to hurt him; they plentifully loaded him with ill language and railing, and took a great deal of pains to let the world see their own ignorance and ingratitude. the ministers of state, tho' at that time of the fiery party, yet seeing the general detestation of such a proposal, and how ill it would go down with the nation, tho' they approv'd the thing, yet began to scent the design, and were also oblig'd to declare against it, for fear of being thought of the same mind. thus the author was proscrib'd by proclamation, and a reward of 50000 hecato's, a small imaginary coin in those parts, put upon his head. the cortez of the nation being at the same time assembled join'd in censuring the book, and thus the party blindly damn'd their own principles for meer shame of the practice, not daring to own the thing in publick which they had underhand profest, and the fury of all parties fell upon the poor author. the man fled the first popular fury, but at last being betraid fell into the hands of the publick ministry. when they had him they hardly knew what to do with him; they could not proceed against him as author of a proposal for the destruction of the crolians because it appear'd he was a crolian himself; they were loth to charge him with suggesting that the solunarian church-men were guilty of such a design, least he should bring their own writings to prove it true; so they fell to wheadling him with good words to throw himself into their hands and submit, giving him that geu-gau the publick faith for a civil and gentleman-like treatment; the man, believing like a coxcomb that they spoke as they meant, quitted his own defence, and threw himself on the mercy of the queen as he thought; but they abusing their queen with false representations, perjur'd all their promises with him, and treated him in a most barbarous manner, on pretence that there were no such promises made, tho' he prov'd it upon them by the oath of the persons to whom they were made. thus they laid him under a heavy sentence, fin'd him more than they thought him able to pay, and order'd him to be expos'd to the mob in the streets. having him at this advantage they set upon him with their emissaries to discover to them his adherents, as they call'd them, and promis'd him great things on one hand, threatning him with his utter ruin on the other; and the great scribe of the country, with another of their great courtiers, took such a low step as to go to him to the dungeon where they had put him, to see if they could tempt him to betray his friends. the comical dialogue between them there the author of this has seen in manuscript, exceeding diverting, but having not time to translate it 'tis omitted for the present; tho' he promises to publish it in its proper season for publick instruction. however for the present it may suffice to tell the world, that neither by promises of reward or fear of punishment they could prevail upon him to discover any thing, and so it remains a secret to this day. the title of this unhappy book was the shortest way with the crolians. the effects of it were various, as will be seen in our ensuing discourse: as to the author nothing was more unaccountable than the circumstances of his treatment; for he met with all that fate which they must expect who attempt to open the eyes of a nation wilfully blind. the hot men of the solunarian church damn'd him without bell, book, or candle; the more moderate pitied him, but lookt on as unconcern'd: but the crolians, for whom he had run this venture, us'd him worst of all; for they not only abandon'd him, but reproacht him as an enemy that would ha' them destroy'd: so one side rail'd at him because they did understand him, and the other because they did not. thus the man sunk under the general neglect, was ruin'd and undone, and left a monument of what every man must expect that serves a good cause, profest by an unthankful people. and here it was i found out that my lunar philosopher was only so in disguise, and that he was no philosopher, but the very man i have been talking of. from this book, and the treatment its author receiv'd, for they us'd him with all possible rigour, a new scene of parties came upon the stage, and this queen's reign began to be fill'd with more divisions and feuds than any before her. these parties began to be so numerous and violent that it endanger'd the publick good, and gave great disadvantages to the general affairs abroad. the queen invited them all to peace and union, but 'twas in vain; nay, one had the impudence to publish that to procure peace and union it was necessary to suppress all the crolians, and have no party but one, and then all must be of a mind. from this heat of parties all the moderate men fell in with their queen, and were heartily for peace and union: the other, who were now distinguish'd by the title of high solunarians, call'd these all crolians and low solunarians, and began to treat them with more inveteracy than they us'd to do the crolians themselves, calling them traytors to their country, betrayers of their mother, serpents harbour'd in the bosom, who bite, sting and hiss at the hand that succour'd them; and in short the enmity grew so violent, that from hence proceeded one of the subtilest, foolishest, deep, shallow contrivances and plots that ever was hatcht or set on foot by any party of men in the whole moon, at least who pretended to any brains, or to half a degree of common understanding. there had always been dislikes and distasts between even the most moderate solunarians and the crolians, as i have noted in the beginning of this relation, and these were deriv'd from dissenting in opinions of religion, ancient feuds, private interest, education, and the like; and the solunarians had frequently, on pretence of securing the government, made laws to exclude the crolians from any part of the administration, unless they submitted to some religious tests and ceremonies which were prescrib'd them. now as the keeping them out of offices was more the design than the conversion of the crolians to the solunarian church, the crolians, at least many of them, submitted to the test, and frequently conform'd to qualify themselves for publick employments. the most moderate of the solunarians were in their opinion against this practice, and the high men taking advantage of them, drew them in to concur in making a law with yet more severity against them, effectually to keep them out of employment. the low solunarians were easy to be drawn into this project, as it was only a confirming former laws of their own making, and all things run fair for the design; but as the high men had further ends in it than barely reducing the crolians to conformity, they coucht so many gross clauses into their law, that even the grandees of the solunarians themselves could not comply with; nay even the patriarchs of the solunarian church declar'd against it, as tending to persecution and confusion. this disappointment enrag'd the party, and that very rage entirely ruin'd their project; for now the nobility, the patriarchs, and all the wise men of the nation, joining together against these men of heat and fury, the queen began to see into their designs, and as she was of a most pious and peaceable temper, she conceiv'd a just hatred of so wicked and barbarous a design, and immediately dismiss'd from her council and favour the great scribe, and several others who were leaders in the design, to the great mortification of the whole party, and utter ruin of the intended law against the crolians. here i could not but observe, as i have done before in the case of the banish'd king, how impolitick these high solunarian church-men acted in all their proceedings, for had they contented themselves by little and little to ha' done their work, they had done it effectually; but pushing at extremities they overshot themselves, and ruin'd all. for the grandees and patriarchs made but a few trifling objections at first, nay and came off, and yielded some of them too; and if these would ha' consented to ha' parted with some clauses which they have willingly left out since, they had had it pass'd; but these were as hot men always are, too eager and sure of their game, they thought all was their own, and so they lost themselves. if they rail'd at the low solunarian church-men before, they doubled their clamors at them now, all the patriarchs, and all the nobility and grandees, nay even the queen her self came under their censure, and every body who was not of their mind were prestarians and crolians. as this rage of theirs was implacable, so, as i hinted before, it drove them into another subdivision of parties, and now began the mysterious plot to be laid which i mention'd before; for the cortez being summon'd, and the law being proposed, some of these high solunarians appear'd in confederacy with the crolians, in perfect confederacy with them, a thing no body would have imagin'd could ever ha' been brought to pass. now as these sorts of plots must always be carry'd very nicely, so these high gentlemen who confederated with the crolians, having, to spight the other, resolv'd effectually to prevent the passing the law against the qualification of the crolians, it was not their business immediately to declare themselves against it as a law, but by still loading it with some extravagance or other, and pushing it on to some intolerable extreme, secure its miscarriage. in the managing this plot, one of their authors was specially employ'd, and that all that was really true of the crolian dissenters might be ridicul'd, his work was to draw monstrous pictures of them, which no body could believe; this took immediately, for now people began to look at their shooes to see if they were not cloven footed as they went a long streets; and at last finding they were really shap'd like the rest of the lunar inhabitants, they went back to the author, who was a learned member of a certain seminary, or brother-hood of the solunarian clergy, and enquir'd if he were not mad, distracted and raving, or moon-blind, and in want of the thinking engine; but finding all things right there, and that he was in his senses, especially in a morning when he was a little free from, &c. that he was a good, honest, jolly, solunarian priest, and no room could be found for an objection there. upon all these searches it presently appear'd, and all men concluded it was a meer fanatick crolian plot; that this high party of all were but pretenders, and meer traytors to the true high solunarian church-men, that wearing the same cloth had herded among them in disguise, only to wheedle them into such wild extravagancies as must of necessity confuse their councils, expose their persons, and ruin their cause. ---according to the like practice, put upon their abrograzian prince, and of which i have spoken before. and since i am upon the detection of this most refin'd practice, i crave leave to descend to some particular instances, which will the better evince the truth of this matter, and make it appear that either this was really a crolian plot, or else all these people were perfectly distracted; and as their wits in that lunar world, are much higher strain'd than ours, so their lunacy, where it happens, must according to the rules of mathematical nature, bear an extream equal in proportion. this college fury of a man was the first on whom this useful discovery was made, and having writ several learned tracts wherein he invited the people to murther and destroy all the crolians, branded all the solunarian patriarchs, clergy and gentry that would not come into his proposal, with the name of cowards, traytors and betrayers of lunar religion; having beat the concionazimir at a great assembly of the cadirs, or judges, and told them all the crolians were devils, and they were all perjur'd that did not use them as such: he carry'd on matters so dexterously, and with such surprizing success, that he fill'd even the solunarians themselves with horror at his proposals.----and as i happen'd to be in one of their publick halls where all such writings as are new are laid a certain time to be read by every comer, i saw a little knot of men round a table, where one was reading this book. there were two solunarian high priests in their proper vestments, one privy councellor of the state, one other noble man, and one who had in his hat a token, to signifie that he possest one of the fine feathers of the consolidator, of which i have given the description already. the book being read by one of the habited priests, he starts up with some warmth, by the moon, says he, i have found this fellow out, he is certainly a crolian, a meer prestarian crolian, and is crept into our church only in disguise, for 'tis certain all this is but meer banter and irony to expose us, and to ridicule the solunarian interest. the privy councellor took it presently, whether he is a crolian or no, says he, i cannot tell, but he has certainly done the crolians so much service, that if they had hir'd him to act for them, they could not have desir'd he should serve them better. truly, says the man of the feather, i was always for pulling down the crolians, for i thought them dangerous to the state; but this man has brought the matter nearer to my view, and shown me what destroying them is, for he put me upon examining the consequences, and now i find it would be lopping off the limbs of the government, and laying it at the mercy of the enemy that they might lop off its head; i assure you he has done the crolians great service, for whereas abundance of our men of the feather were for routing the crolians, they lately fell down to 134 or thereabouts. all this confirm'd the first man's opinion that he was a crolian in disguise, or an emissary employ'd by them to ruin the project of their enemies; for these crolians are damn'd cunning people in their way, and they have mony enough to engage hirelings to their side. another party concern'd in this plot was an old cast-out solunarian priest, who, tho' professing himself a solunarian, was turn'd out for adhering to the abrograzian king, a mighty stickler for the doctrin of absolute subjection. this man draws the most monstrous picture of a crolian that could be invented, he put him in a wolf's skin with long asses ears, and hung him all over full of associations, massacres, persecutions, rebellions, and blood. here the people began to stare again, and a crolian cou'd not go along the street but they were alway's looking for the long ears, the wolf's claws, and the like; 'till at last nothing of these things appearing, but the crolians looking and acting like other folks, they begun to examine the matter, and found this was a meer crolian plot too, and this man was hir'd to run these extravagant lengths to point out the right meaning. the discovery being made, people ever since understand him that when he talks of the dissenters associations, murthers, persecutions, and the like, he means that his readers should look back to the murthers, oppressions and persecutions they had suffered for several past years, and the associations that were now forming to bring them into the same condition again. from this famous author i could not but proceed to observe the farther progress of this most refin'd piece of cunning, among the very great ones, grandees, feathers, and consolidators of the country. for these cunning crolians manag'd their intriegues so nicely, that they brought about a famous division even among the high solunarian party themselves; and whereas the law of qualification was reviv'd again, and in great danger of being compleated; these subtle crolians brought over one hundred and thirty four of the feathers in the famous consolidator to be of their side, and to contrive the utter destruction of it; and thus fell the design which the high solunarian church men had laid for the ruin of the crolians interest, by their own friends first joyning in all the extremes they had proposed, and then pushing it so much farther, and to such mad periods that the very highest of them stood amaz'd at the design, startled, flew back and made a full stop; they were willing to ruin the crolians, but they were not willing to ruin the whole nation. the more these men began to consider, the more furiously these plotters carry'd on their extravagances; at last they made a general push at a thing in which they knew if the other high men joyn'd, they must throw all into confusion, bring a foreign enemy on their backs, unravel all the thread of the war, fight all their victories back again, and involve the whole nation in blood and confusion. they knew well enough that most of the high men would hesitate at this, they knew if they did not the grandees and patriarchs would reject it, and so they plaid the surest game to blast and overthrow this law, that could possibly be plaid. if any man, in the whole world in the moon, will pretend this was not a plot, a crolian design, a meer conspiracy to destroy the law, let him tell me for what other end could these men offer such extreams as they needs must know would meet with immediate opposition, things that they knew all the honest men, all the grandees, all the patriarchs, and almost all the feathers would oppose. from hence all the men of any fore-sight brought it to this pass, as is before noted, that either these one hundred and thirty four were fools or mad-men, or that it was a phanatick crolian plot and conspiracy to ruin the makeing this law, which the rest of the solunarian church men were very forward to carry on. i heard indeed some men argue that this could not be, the breach was too wide between the crolians and these gentlemen ever to come to such an agreement; but the wiser heads who argu'd the other way, always brought them, as is noted above, to this pinch of argument; that either it must be so, be a fanatick crolian plot, or else the men of fury were all fools, madmen, and fitter for an hospital, than a state-house, or a pulpit. it must be allow'd, these crolians were cunning people, thus to wheedle in these high flying solunarians to break the neck of their dear project. but upon the whole, for ought i cou'd see, whether it went one way or t'other, all the nation esteem'd the other people fools -----fools of the most extraordinary size in all the moon, for either way they pull'd down what they had been many years a building. i cannot say that this was in kindness to the crolians, but in meer malice to the low solunarian party, who had the government in their hands, for malice always carries men on to monstrous extremes. some indeed have thought it hard to call this a plot, and a confederacy with the crolians.-----but i cannot but think it the kindest thing that can be said of them, and that 'tis impossible those people who push'd at some imaginary things in that law could but be in a plot as aforesaid, or be perfectly lunatick, down right mad-men, or traytors to their country, and let them choose which character they like. i cannot in charity but spare them their honesty, and their senses, and attribute it all to their policy. when i had understood all things at large, and found the exceeding depth of the design; i must confess the discovery of these things was very diverting, and the more so, when i made the proper reflections upon the analogy there seem'd to be between these solunarian high church-men in the moon, and ours here in england; our high church-men are no more to compare to these, than the hundred and thirty four, are to the consolidators. ours can plot now and then a little among themselves, but then 'tis all gross and plain sailing, down right taking arms, calling in foreign forces, assassinations and the like; but these are nothing to the more exquisite heads in the moon. for they have the subtillest ways with them, that ever were heard of. they can make war with a prince, on purpose to bring him to the crown; fit out vast navies against him, that he may have the more leisure to take their merchant men; make descents upon him, on purpose to come home and do nothing; if they have a mind to a sea fight, they carefully send out admirals that care not to come within half a mile of the enemy, that coming off safe they may have the boasting part of the victory, and the beaten part both together. 'twould be endless to call over the roll of their sublime politicks. they damn moderation in order to peace and union, set the house on fire to save it from desolation, plunder to avoid persecution, and consolidate things in order to their more immediate dissolution. had our high church-men been masters of these excellent arts, they had long ago brought their designs to pass. the exquisite plot of these high solunarians answer'd the crolians end, for it broke all their enemies measures, the law vanish'd, the grandees could hardly be perswaded to read it, and when it was propos'd to be read again, they hist at it, and threw it by with contempt. nor was this all; for it not only lost them their design as to this law, but it also absolutely broke the party, and just as it was with adam and eve, as soon as they sinn'd they quarrell'd, and fell out with one another; so, as soon as things came to this height, the party fell out one among another, and even the high men themselves were divided, some were for consolidating, and some not for consolidating, some were for tacking, and some not for tacking, as they were, or were not let into the secret. if this confusion of languages, or interest, lost them the real design, it cannot be a wonder; have we not always seen it in our world, that dividing an interest, weakens and exposes it? has not a great many both good and bad designs been render'd abortive in this our lower world, for want of the harmony of parties, and the unanimity of those concern'd in the design? how had the knot of rebellion been dissolv'd in england, if it had not been untied by the very hands of those that knit it? all the contrary force had been entirely broken and subdu'd, and the restoration of monarchy had never happen'd in england, if union and agreement had been found among the managers of that age. the enemies of the present establishment have shown sufficiently that they perfectly understand the shortest way to our infallible destruction, when they bend their principle force at dividing us into parties, and keeping those parties at the utmost variance. but this is not all, the author of this cannot but observe here that as england is unhappily divided among parties, so it has this one felicity even to be found in the very matter of her misfortunes, that those parties are all again subdivided among themselves. how easily might the church have crusht and subdu'd the dissenters if they had been all as mad as one party, if they had not been some high and some low church-men. and what mischief might not that one party ha' done in this nation, had not they been divided again into jurant jacobites and non-jurant, into consolidators and non-consolidators? from whence 'tis plain to me, that just as it is in the moon these consolidating church-men are meer confederates with the whigs; and it must be so, unless we should suppose them meer mad men that don't know what they are a doing, and who are the drudges of their enemies, and kno' nothing of the matter. and from this lunar observation it presently occur'd to my understanding, that my masters the dissenters may come in for a share among the moon-blind men of this generation, since had they done for their own interest what the laws fairly admits to be done, had they been united among themselves, had they form'd themselves into a politick body to have acted in a publick, united capacity by general concert, and as persons that had but one interest and understood it, they had never been so often insulted by every rising party, they had never had so many machines and intrigues to ruin and suppress them, they had never been so often tackt and consolidated to oppression and persecution, and yet never have rebell'd or broke the peace, incurr'd the displeasure of their princes, or have been upbraided with plots, insurrections and antimonarchical principles; when they had made treaties and capitulations with the church for temper and toleration, the articles would have been kept, and these would have demanded justice with an authority that would upon all occasions be respected. were they united in civil polity in trade and interest, would they buy and sell with one another, abstract their stocks, erect banks and companies in trade of their own, lend their cash to the government in a body, and as a body. if i were to tell them what advantages the crolians in the moon make of this sort of management, how the government finds it their interest to treat them civilly, and use them like subjects of consideration; how upon all occasions some of the grandees and nobility appear as protectors of the crolians, and treat with their princes in their names, present their petitions, and make demands from the prince of such loans and sums of mony as the publick occasions require; and what abundance of advantages are reapt from such a union, both to their own body as a party, and to the government also they would be convinc'd; wherefore i cannot but very earnestly desire of the dissenters and whigs in my own country that they would take a journy in my consolidator up to the moon, they would certainly see there what vast advantages they lose for want of a spirit of union, and a concert of measures among themselves. the crolians in the moon are men of large souls, and generously stand by one another on all occasions; it was never known that they deserted any body that suffer'd for them, my old philosopher excepted, and that was a surprize upon them. the reason of the difference is plain, our dissenters here have not the advantage of a cogitator, or thinking engine, as they have in the moon.----we have the elevator here and are lifted up pretty much, but in the moon they always go into the thinking engine upon every emergency, and in this they out-do us of this world on every occasion. in general therefore i must note that the wisest men i found in the moon, when they understood the notes i had made as above, of the sub-divisions of our parties, told me that it was the greatest happiness that could ha' been obtained to our country, for that if our parties had not been thus divided, the nation had been undone. they own'd that had not their solunarian party been divided among themselves, the crolians had been undone, and all the moon had been involv'd in persecution, and been very probably subjected to the gallunarian monarch. thus the fatal errors of men have their advantages, the seperate ends they serve are not foreseen by their authors and they do good against the very design of the people, and the nature of the evil it self. and now that i may encourage our people to that peace and good understanding among themselves, which can alone produce their safety and deliverance; i shall give a brief account how the crolians in the moon came to open their eyes to their own interest, how they came to unite; and how the fruits of that union secur'd them from ever being insulted again by the solunarian party, who in time gave over the vain and fruitless attempt, and so a universal lunar calm has spread the whole moon ever since. if our people will not listen to their own advantages, nor do their own business, let them take the consequences to themselves, they cannot blame the man in the moon. to endeavour to bring this to pass, as these memoirs have run thro' the general history of the feuds and unhappy breaches between the solunarian church and the crolian dissenters in the world of the moon, it would seem an imperfect and abrupt relation, if i should not tell you how, and by what method, tho' long hid from their eyes, the crolians came to understand their own interest and know their own strength. 'tis true, it seem'd a wonder to me when i consider'd the excellence and variety of those perspective glasses i have mentioned, the clearness of the air, and consequently of the head, in this lunar world. i say it was very strange the crolians should ha' been moon blind so long as they were, that they could not see it was always in their power if they had but pursued their own interest, and made use of those, legal opportunities which lay before them, to put themselves in a posture, as that the government it self should think them a body too big to be insulted, and find it their interest to keep measures with them. it was indeed a long time before they open'd their eyes to these advantages, but bore the insults of the hair-brain'd party, with a weakness and negligence that was as unjustifiable in them, as unaccountable to all the nations of the moon. but at last, as all violent extremes rouze their contrary extremeties, the folly and extravagance of the high solunarians drove the crolians into their senses, and rouz'd them to their own interest, the occasion was among a great many others as follows. the eager solunarian could not on all occasions forbear to show their deep regret at the dissenting crolians enjoying the tolleration of their religion, by a law ---. and when all their legal attempts to lessen that liberty had prov'd abortive, her solunarian majesty on all occasions repeating her assurances of the continuance of her protection, and particularly the maintaining this tolleration inviolable. they proceeded then to show the remains of their mallice, in little insults, mean and illegal methods, and continual private disturbances upon particular persons, in which, however the crolians having recourse to the law, always found justice on their side, and had redress with advantage, of which the following instance is more than ordinarily remarkable. there had been a law made by the men of the feather, that all the meaner idle sort of people, who had no settel'd way of living should go to the wars, and the lazognians, a sort of magistrates there, in the nature of our justices of the peace, were to send them away by force. now it happen'd in a certain solunarian island, that for want of a better, one of their high priests was put into the civil administration, and made a lazognian.----in the neighbourhood of this man's jurisdiction, one of their own solunarian priests had turn'd crolian, and whether he had a better tallent at performance, or rather was more diligent in his office is not material, but he set up a kind of a crolian temple in an old barn, or some such mechanick building, and all the people flock'd after him. this so provok'd his neighbours of the black girdle, an order of priests, of which he had been one, that they resolv'd to suppress him let it cost what it would. they run strange lengths to bring this to pass. they forg'd strange stories of him, defam'd him, run him into jayl upon frivolous and groundless occasions, represented him as a monster of a man, told their story so plain, and made it so specious, that even the crolians themselves to their shame, believ'd it, and took up prejudices against the poor man, which had like to ha' been his ruin. they proscrib'd him in print for crimes they could never prove, they branded him with forgery, adultery, drunkenness, swearing, breaking jayl, and abundance of crimes; but when matters were examin'd and things came to the test, they could never prove the least thing upon him.----in this manner however they continually worryed the poor man, till they ruin'd his family and reduc'd him to beggary; and tho' he came out of the prison they cast him into by the meer force of innocence, yet they never left persuing him with all sorts of violence.-----at last they made use of their brother of the girdle who was in commission as above, and this man being high priest and lazonian too, by the first was a party, and by the last had a power to act the tragedy they had plotted against the poor man. in short, they seiz'd him without any crime alledg'd, took violently from him his licence, as a crolian priest, by which the law justify'd what he had done, pretending it was forg'd, and after very ill treating him, condemn'd him to the wars, delivers him up for a souldier, and accordingly carry'd him away. but it happen'd, to their great mortification, that this man found more mercy from the men of the sword, than from those of the word, and so found means to get out of their hands, and afterwards to undeceive all the moon, both as to his own character, and as to what he had suffer'd. for some of the crolians, who began to be made sensible of the injury done the poor man, advis'd him to have recourse to the law, and to bring his adversaries before the criminal bar. but as soon as this was done, good god! what a scene of villainy was here opened: the poor man brought up such a cloud of witnesses to confront every article of their charge, and to vindicate his own character, that when the very judges heard it, tho' they were all solunarians themselves, they held up their hands, and declar'd in open court it was the deepest track of villany that ever came before them, and that the actors ought to be made examples to all the moon. the persons concern'd, us'd all possible arts to avoid, or at least to delay the shame, and adjourn the punishment, thinking still to weary the poor man out.-----but now his brethren the crolians began to see themselves wounded thro' his sides, and above all, finding his innocence clear'd up beyond all manner of dispute, they espous'd his cause, and assisted him to prosecute his enemies, which he did, till he brought them all to justice, expos'd them to the last degree, obtain'd the reparation of all his losses, and a publick decree of the judges of his justification and future repose. indeed when i saw the proceedings against this poor man run to a heighth so extravagant and monstrous, when i found malice, forgery, subornation, perjury, and a thousand unjustifiable things which their own sense, if they had any, might ha' been their protection against, and which any child in the moon might ha' told them must one time or other come upon the stage and expose them; i began to think these people were all in the crolian plot too. for really such proceedings as these were the greatest pieces of service to the crolians as could possibly be done; for as it generally proves in other places as well as in the moon, that mischief unjustly contriv'd falls upon the head of the authors, and redounds to their treble dishonour, so it was here; the barbarity and inhumane treatment of this man, made the sober and honest part even of the solanarians themselves blush for their brethren, and own that the punishment awarded on them was just. thus the crolians got ground by the folly and madness of their enemies, and the very engines and plots laid to injure them, serv'd to bring their enemies on the stage, and expose both them and their cause. but this was not all, by these incessant attacks on them as a party, they began to come to their senses out of a 50 year slumber, they found the law on their side, and the government moderate and just; they found they might oppose violence with law, and that when they did fly to the refuge of justice, they always had the better of their enemy; flusht with this success, it put them upon considering what fools they had been all along to bear the insolence of a few hot-headed men, who contrary to the true intent and meaning of the queen, or of the government, had resolv'd their destruction. it put them upon revolving the state of their own case, and comparing it with their enemies; upon examining on what foot they stood, and tho' establish'd upon a firm law, yet a violent party pushing at the overthrow of that establishment, and dissolving the legal right they had to their liberty and religion; it put them upon duly weighing the nearness of their approaching ruin and destruction, and finding things run so hard against them, reflecting upon the extremity of their affairs, and how if they had not drawn in the high church-champions to damn the projects of their own party, by running at such desperate extremes as all men of any temper must of course abhor, they had been undone; truly now they began to consider, and to consult with one another what was to be done. abundance of projects were laid before them, some too dangerous, some too foolish to be put in practice; at last they resolv'd to consult with my philosopher. he had been but scurvily treated by them in his troubles, and so universally abandon'd by the crolians, that even the solunarians themselves insulted them on that head, and laugh'd at them for expecting any body should venture for them again.----but he forgetting their unkindness, ask'd them what it was they desir'd of him? they told him, they had heard that he had reported he could put the crolians in a way to secure themselves from any possibility of being insulted again by the solunarians, and yet not disturb the publick tranquility, nor break the laws; and they desir'd him, if he knew such a secret, he would communicate it to them, and they would be sure to remember to forget him for it as long as he liv'd. he frankly told them he had said so, and it was true, he could put them in a way to do all this if they would follow his directions. what's that, says one of the most earnest enquirers? ----'tis included in one word, says he, unite. this most significant word, deeply and solidly reflected upon, put them upon strange and various conjectures, and many long debates they had with themselves about it; at last they came again to him, and ask'd him what he mean't by it? he told them he knew they were strangers to the meaning of the thing, and therefore if they would meet him the next day he would come prepar'd to explain himself; accordingly they meet, when instead of a long speech they expected from him what sort of union he mean't, and with who, he brings them a thinking press, or cogitator, and setting it down, goes away without speaking one word. this hyerogliphical admonition was too plain not to let them all into his meaning; but still as they are an obstinate people, and not a little valuing themselves upon their own knowledge and penetration, they slighted the engine and fell to off-hand-surmises, guesses and supposes. 1. some concluded he mean't unite with the solunarian church, and they reflected upon his understanding, that not being the question in hand, and something remote from their intention, or the high solunarians desire. 2. some mean't unite to the moderate party of the solunarians, and this they said they had done already. at last some being very cunning, found it out, that it must be his meaning unite one among another; and even there again they misunderstood him too; and some imagin'd he mean't down right rebellion, uniting power, and mobbing the whole moon, but he soon convinc'd them of that too. at last they took the hint, that his advice directed them to unite their subdivided parties into one general interest, and to act in concert upon one bottom, to lay aside the selfish, narrow, suspicious spirit; three qualifications the crolians were but too justly charg'd with, and begin to act with courage, unanimity and largeness of soul, to open their eyes to their own interest, maintain a regular and constant correspondence with one another in all parts of the kingdom, and to bring their civil interest into a form. the author of this advice having thus brought them to understand, and approve his proposal, they demanded his assistance for making the essay, and 'tis a most wonderful thing to consider what a strange effect the alteration of their measures had upon the whole solunarian nation. as soon as ever they had settled the methods they resolv'd to act in, they form'd a general council of the heads of their party, to be always sitting, to reconcile differences, to unite parties, to suppress feuds in their beginning. they appointed 3 general meetings in 3 of the most remote parts of the kingdom, to be half yearly, and one universal meeting of persons deputed to concert matters among them in general. by that time these meetings had sat but once, and the conduct of the council of 12 began to appear, 'twas a wonder to see the prodigious alteration it made all over the country. immediately a crolian would never buy any thing but of a crolian; would hire no servants, employ neither porter nor carman, but what were crolians. the crolians in the country that wrought and manag'd the manufactures, would employ no body but crolian spinners, crolian weavers, and the like. in their capital city the merchandizing crolians would freight no ships but of which the owners and commanders were crolians. they call'd all their cash out of the solunarian bank; and as the act of the cortez confirming the bank then in being seem'd to be their support, they made it plain that cash and credit will make a bank without a publick settlement of law; and without these all the laws in the moon will never be able to support it. they brought all their running cash into one bank, and settled a sub-cash depending upon the grand-bank in every province of the kingdom; in which, by a strict correspondence and crediting their bills, they might be able to settle a paper credit over the whole nation. they went on to settle themselves in all sorts of trade in open companies, and sold off their interests in the publick stocks then in trade. if the government wanted a million of mony upon any emergency, they were ready to lend it as a body, not by different sums and private hands blended together with their enemies, but as will appear at large presently, it was only crolian mony, and pass'd as such. nor were the consequences of this new model less considerable than the proposer expected, for the crolians being generally of the trading manufacturing part of the world, and very rich; the influence this method had upon the common people, upon trade, and upon the publick was very considerable every way. 1. all the solunarian trades-men and shop-keepers were at their wits end, they sat in their shops and had little or nothing to do, while the shops of the crolians were full of customers, and their people over head and ears in business; this turn'd many of the solunarian trades-men quite off of the hooks, and they began to break and decay strangely, till at last a great many of them to prevent their utter ruin, turn'd crolians on purpose to get a trade; and what forwarded that part of it was, that when a solunarian, who had little or no trade before, came but over to the crolians, immediately every body come to trade with him, and his shop would be full of customers, so that this presently encreas'd the number of the crolians. 2. the poor people in the countries, carders, spinners, weavers, knitters, and all sorts of manufacturers, run in crowds to the crolian temples for fear of being starv'd, for the crolians were two thirds of the masters or employers in the manufactures all over the country, and the poor would ha' been starv'd and undone if they had cast them out of work. thus infenfibly the crolians encreas'd their number. 3. the crolians being men of vast cash, they no sooner withdrew their mony from the general bank but the bank languisht, credit sunk, and in a short time they had little to do, but dissolv'd of course. one thing remain'd which people expected would ha' put a check to this undertaking, and that was a way of trading in classes, or societies, much like our east-india companies in england; and these depending upon publick privileges granted by the queen of the country, or her predecessors, no body could trade to those parts but the persons who had those priviledges: the cunning crolians, who had great stocks in those trades, and foresaw they could not trade by themselves without the publick grant or charter, contriv'd a way to get almost all that capital trade into their hands as follows. they concerted matters, and all at once fell to selling off their stock, giving out daily reports that they would be no longer concern'd, that it was a losing trade, that the fund at bottom was good for nothing, and that of two societies the old one had not 20 per cent. to divide, all their debts being paid; that the new society had traded several years, but if they were dissolv'd could not say that they had got any thing; and that this must be a cheat at last, and so they resolv'd to sell. by this artifice, they daily offering to sale, and yet in all their discourse discouraging the thing they were to sell no body could be found to buy. the offering a thing to sale and no bidders, is a certain never-failing prospect of a lowring the price; from this method therefore the value of all the banks, companies, societies and stocks in the country fell to be little or nothing worth; and that was to be bought for 40 or 45 lunarians that was formerly sold at 150, and so in proportion of all the rest. all this while the crolians employ'd their emissaries to buy up privately all the interest or shares in these things that any of the solunarian party would sell. this plot took readily, for these gentlemen exposing the weakness of these societies, and running down the value of their stocks, and at the same time warily buying at the lowest prices, not only in time got possession of the whole trade, with their grants, privileges and stocks, but got into them at a prodigiously low and despicable price. they had no sooner thus worm'd them out of the trade, and got the greatest part of the effects in their own hands, and consequently the whole management, but they run up the price of the funds again as high as ever, and laught at the folly of those that sold out. nor could the other people make any reflections upon the honesty of the practice, for it was no original, but had its birth among the solunarians themselves, of whom 3 or 4 had frequently made a trade of raising and lowring the funds of the societies by all the clandestine contrivances in the world, and had ruin'd abundance of families to raise their own fortunes and estates. one of the greatest merchants in the moon rais'd himself by this method to such a heighth of wealth, that he left all his children married to grandees, dukes, and great folks; and from a mechanick original, they are now rankt among the lunarian nobility, while multitudes of ruin'd families helpt to build his fortune, by sinking under the knavery of his contrivance. his brother in the same iniquity, being at this time a man of the feather, has carry'd on the same intrieguing trade with all the face and front imaginable; it has been nothing with him to persuade his most intimate friends to sell, or buy, just as he had occasion for his own interest to have it rise, or fall, and so to make his own market of their misfortune. thus he has twice rais'd his fortunes, for the house of feathers demolisht him once, and yet he has by the same clandestine management work'd himself up again. this civil way of robbing houses, for i can esteem it no better, was carry'd on by a middle sort of people, call'd in the moon bloutegondegours, which which signifies men with two tongues, or in english, stock-jobbing brokers. these had formerly such an unlimited power and were so numerous, that indeed they govern'd the whole trade of the country; no man knew when he bought or sold, for tho' they pretended to buy and sell, and manage for other men whose stocks they had very much at command, yet nothing was more frequent than when they bought a thing cheap, to buy it for themselves; if dear, for their employer; if they were to sell, if the price rise, it was sold, if it fell, it was unsold; and by this art no body got any mony but themselves, that at last, excepting the two capital men we spoke of before, these govern'd the prizes of all things, and nothing could be bought or sold to advantage but thro' their hands; and as the profit was prodigious, their number encreas'd accordingly, so that business seem'd engross'd by these men, and they govern'd the main articles of trade. this success, and the imprudence of their conduct, brought great complaints against them to the government, and a law was made to restrain them, both in practice and number. this law has in some measure had its effect, the number is not only lessen'd, but by chance some honester men than usual are got in among them, but they are so very, very, very few, hardly enough to save a man's credit that shall vouch for them. nay, some people that pretend to understand their business better than i do, having been of their number, have affirm'd, it is impossible to be honest in the employment. i confess when i began to search into the conduct of these men, at least of some of them, i found there were abundance of black stories to be told of them, a great deal known, and a great deal more unknown; for they were from the beginning continually encroaching into all sorts of people and societies, and in conjunction with some that were not qualify'd by law, but meerly voluntarily, call'd in the moon by a hard long word, in english signifying projectors these erected stocks in shadows, societies in nubibus, and bought and sold meer vapour, wind, emptiness and bluster for mony, till they drew people in to lay out their cash, and then laught at them. thus they erected paper societies, linnen societies, sulphur societies, copper societies, glass societies, sham banks, and a thousand mock whimsies to hook unwary people in; at last sold themselves out, left the bubble to float a little in the air, and then vanish of it self. the other sort of people go on after all this; and tho' these projectors began to be out of fashion, they always found one thing or other to amuse and deceive the ignorant, and went jobbing on into all manner of things, publick as well as private, whether the revenue, the publick funds, loans, annuities, bear-skins, or any thing. nay they were once grown to that extravagant highth, that they began to stock-job the very feathers of the consolidator, and in time the king's employing those people might have had what feathers they had occasion for, without concerning the proprietors of the lands much about them. 'tis true this began to be notorious, and receiv'd some check in a former meeting of the feathers; but even now, when i came away, the three years expiring, and by course a new consolidator being to be built, they were as busie as ever. bidding, offering, procuring, buying, selling, and jobbing of feathers to who bid most; and notwithstanding several late wholesome and strict laws against all manner of collusion, bribery and clandestine methods, in the countries procuring these feathers; never was the moon in such an uproar about picking and culling the feathers, such bribery, such drunkenness, such caballing, especially among the high solunarian clergy and the lazognians, such feasting, fighting and distraction, as the like has never been known. and that which is very remarkable, all this not only before the old consolidator was broke up, but even while it was actually whole and in use. had this hurry been to send up good feathers, there had been the less to say, but that which made it very strange to me was, that where the very worst of all the feathers were to be found, there was the most of this wicked work; and tho' it was bad enough every where, yet the greatest bustle and contrivance was in order to send up the worst feathers they could get. and indeed some places such sorry, scoundrel, empty, husky, wither'd, decay'd feathers were offer'd to the proprietors, that i have sometimes wonder'd any one could have the impudence to send up such ridiculous feathers to make a consolidator, which, as is before observ'd, is an engine of such beauty, usefulness and necessity. and still in all my observation, this note came in my way, there was always the most bustle and disturbance about the worst feathers. it was really a melancholly thing to consider, and had this lunar world been my native country, i should ha' been full of concern to see that one thing, on which the welfare of the whole nation so much depended, put in so ill a method, and gotten into the management of such men, who for mony would certainly ha' set up such feathers, that wherever the consolidator should be form'd, it would certainly over-set the first voyage; and if the whole nation should happen to be embarkt in it, on the dangerous voyage to the moon, the fall would certainly give them such a shock, as would put them all into confusion, and open the door to the gallunarian, or any foreign enemy to destroy them. it was really strange that this should be the case, after so many laws, and so lately made, against it; but in this, those people are too like our people in england, who have the best laws the worst executed of any nation under heaven. for in the moon this hurry about choosing of feathers was grown to the greatest heighth imaginable, as if it encreast by the very laws that were made to suppress it; for now at a certain publick place where the bloutegondegours us'd to meet every day, any body that had but mony enough might buy a feather at a reasonable rate, and never go down into the country to fetch it; nay, the trade grew so hot, that of a sudden as if no other business was in hand, all people were upon it, and the whole market was chang'd from selling of bear-skins, to buying of feathers. some gave this for a reason why all the stocks of the societies fell so fast, but there were other reasons to be given for that, such as clubs, cabals, stock-jobbers, knights, merchants and thie---s. i mean a private sort, not such as are frequently hang'd there, but of a worse sort, by how much they merit that punishment more, but are out of the reach of the law, can rob and pick pockets in the face of the sun, and laugh at the families they ruin, bidding defiance to all legal resentment. to this height things were come under the growing evil of this sort of people. and yet in the very moon where, as i have noted, the people are so exceeding clear sighted, and have such vast helps to their perceptive faculties, such mists are sometimes cast before the publick understanding, that they cannot see the general interest. this was manifest, in that just as i came away from that country, the great council of their wise men, the men of the feather, were a going to repeal the old law of restraining the number of these people; and tho' as it was, there was not employment for half of them, there being 100 in all, and not above 5 honest ones; yet when i came away they were going to encrease their number. i have nothing to say to this here, only that all wise men that understand trade were very much concern'd at it, and lookt upon it as a most destructive thing to the publick, and forboding the same mischiefs that trade suffer'd before. it was the particular misfortune to these lunar people that this country had a better stock of governors in all articles of their well-fare, than in their trade; their law affairs had good judges, their church good patriarchs, except, as might be excepted; their state good ministers, their army good generals, and their consolidator good feathers; but in matters relating to trade, they had this particular misfortune, that those cases always came before people that did not understand them. even the judges themselves were often found at a loss to determine causes of negoce, such as protests, charter-parties, avarages, baratry, demorage of ships, right of detaining vessels on demorage, and the like; nay, the very laws themselves are fain to be silent and yield in many things a superiority to the custom of merchants. and here i began to congratulate my native country, where the prudence of the government has provided for these things, by establishing in a commission of trade some of the most experienc'd gentlemen in the nation, to regulate, settle, improve, and revive trade in general, by their unwearyed labours, and most consummate understanding; and this made me pity these countries, and think it would be an action worthy of this nation, and be spoken of for ages to come to their glory, if in meer charity they would appoint or depute these gentlemen to go a voyage to those countries of the moon, and bless those regions with the schemes of their sublime undertakings, and discoveries in trade. but when i was expressing my self thus, my philosopher interrupted me, and told me i should see they were already furnisht for that purpose, when i came to examine the publick libraries, of which by it self. but i was farther confirm'd in my observation of the weakness of the publick heads of that country, as to trade, when i saw another most preposterous law going forward among them, the title of which was specious, and contain'd something relating to employing the poor, but the substance of it absolutely destructive to the very nature of their trade, tending to transposing, confounding and destroying their manufactures, and to the ruin of all their home-commerce; never was nation so blind to their own interest as these lunarian law makers, and the people who were the contrivers of this law were so vainly conceited, so fond of the guilded title, and so positively dogmatick, that they would not hear the frequent applications of persons better acquainted with those things than themselves, but pusht it on meerly by the strength of their party, for the vanity of being authors of such a contrivance. but to return to the new model of the crolians. the advice of the lunarian philosopher run now thro' all their affairs, unite was the word thro' all the nation, in trade, in cash, in stocks, as i noted before. if a solunarian ship was bound to any out port, no crolian would load any goods aboard; if any ship came to seek freight abroad, none of the crolians correspondents would ship any thing unless they knew the owners were crolians; the crolian merchants turn'd out all their solunarian masters, sailors and captains from their ships; and thus, as the solunarians would have them be separated in respect of the government, profits, honours and offices, they resolv'd to separate in every thing else too, and to stand by themselves. at last, upon some publick occasion, the publick treasurers of the land sent to the capital city, to borrow 500000 lunarians upon very good security of establisht funds; truly no body would lend any mony, or at least they could not raise above a 5th part of that sum, enquiring at the bank, at their general societies cash, and other places, all was languid and dull, and no mony to be had; but being inform'd that the crolians had erected a bank of their own, they sent thither, and were answered readily, that whatever sum the government wanted, was at their service, only it was to be lent not by particular persons, but such a grandee being one of the prime nobility, and who the crolians now call'd their protector, was to be treated with about it. the government saw no harm in all this; here was no law broken, here was nothing but oppression answered with policy, and mischief fenc'd against with reason. the government therefore took no notice of it, nor made any scruple when they wanted any mony to treat with this nobleman, and borrow any sum of the crolians, as crolians; on the contrary in the name of the crolians; their head or protector presented their addresses and petitions, procur'd favours on one hand, and assistance on the other; and thus by degrees and insensibly the crolians became a politick body, settled and establish'd by orders and rules among themselves; and while a spirit of unanimity thus run thro' all their proceedings, their enemies could never hurt them, their princes always saw it was their interest to keep measures with them, and they were sure to have justice upon any complaint whatsoever. when i saw this, it forc'd me to reflect upon affairs in our own country; well, said i, 'tis happy for england that our dissenters have not this spirit of union and largeness of heart among them; for if they were not a narrow, mean-spirited, short-sighted, self-preserving, friend-betraying, poor-neglecting people, they might ha' been every way as safe, as considerable, as regarded and as numerous as the crolians in the moon; but it is not in their souls to do themselves good, nor to espouse, or stand by those that would do it for them; and 'tis well for the church-men that it is so, for many attempts have been made to save them, but their own narrowness of soul, and dividedness in interest has always prevented its being effectual, and discourag'd all the instruments that ever attempted to serve them. 'tis confest the case was thus at first among the crolians, they were full of divisions among themselves, as i have noted already of the solunarians, and the unhappy feuds among them, had always not only expos'd them to the censure, reproach and banter of their solunarian enemies, but it had serv'd to keep them under, prevent their being valued in the government, and given the other party vast advantages against. but the solunarians driving thus furiously at their destruction and entire ruin, open'd their eyes to the following measures for their preservation: and here again the high solunarians may see, and doubtless whenever they made use of the lunar-glasses they must see it, that nothing could ha' driven the crolians to make use of such methods for their defence, but the rash proceedings of their own warm men, in order to suppressing the whole crolian interest. and this might inform our country-men of the church of england, that it cannot but be their interest to treat their brethren with moderation and temper, least their extravagances should one time or other drive the other as it were by force into their senses, and open their eyes to do only all those things which by law they may do, and which they are laught at by all the world for not doing. this was the very case in the moon: the philosopher, or pretended-such as before, had often publish'd, that it was their interest to unite; but their eyes not being open to the true causes and necessity of it, their ears were shut against the council, till oppression and necessities drove them to it. accordingly they entred into a serious debate, of the state of their own affairs, and finding the advice given, very reasonable; they set about it, and the author gave them a model, entitl'd an enquiry into what the crolians may lawfully do, to prevent the certain ruin of their interest, and bring their enemies to peace. i will not pretend to examine the contents of this sublime tract; but from this very day, we found the crolians in the moon, acting quite on a different foot from all their former conduct, putting on a new temper, and a new face, as you have hear'd. all this while the hot solunarians cried out plots, associations, confederacies, and rebellions, when indeed here was nothing done but what the laws justify'd, what reason directed, and what had the crolians but made use of the cogitator, they would ha' done 40 year before. the truth is, the other people had no remedy, but to cry murther, and make a noise; for the crolians went on with their affairs, and establisht themselves so, that when i came away, they were become a most solid, and well united body, made a considerable figure in the nation, and yet the government was easy; for the solunarians found when they had attain'd the utmost end of their wishes, her solunarian majesty was as safe as before, and the crolians property being secur'd, they were as loyal subjects as the solunarians, as consistent with monarchy, as useful to it, and as pleas'd with it. i cannot but remark here, that this union of the crolians among themselves had another consequence, which made it appear it was not only to their own advantage, but to the general good of all the natien. for, by little, and little, the feuds of the parties cool'd, and the solunarians began to be better reconcil'd to them; the government was easy and safe, and the private quarrels, as i have been told since, begin to be quite forgot. what blindness, said i to my self, has possest the dissenters in our unhappy country of england, where by eternal discords, feuds, distrusts and disgusts among themselves, they always fill their enemies with hopes, that by pushing at them, they may one time or other compleat their ruin; which expectation has always serv'd as a means to keep open the quarrel; whereas had the dissenters been united in interest, affection and mannagement among themselves, all this heat had long ago been over, and the nation, tho' there had been two opinions had retain'd but one interest, been joyn'd in affection, and peace at home been rais'd up to that degree that all wise men wish, as it is now among the inhabitants of the world in the moon. tis true, in all the observations i made in this lunar country, the vast deference paid to the persons of princes began to lessen, and whatever respect they had for the office, they found it necessary frequently to tell the world that on occasion, they could treat them with less respect than they pretended to owe them. for about this time, the divine right of kings, and the inheritances of princes in the moon, met with a terrible shock, and that by the solunarian party themselves; and insomuch that even my philosopher, and he was none of the jure divino men, neither declar'd, against it. they made crowns perfect foot-balls, set up what kings they would, and pull'd down such as they did not like, ratitione voluntas, right or wrong, as they thought best, of which some examples shall be given by and by. after i had thus enquir'd into the historical affairs of this lunar nation, which for its similitude to my native country, i could not but be inquisitive in; i wav'd a great many material things, which at least i cannot enter upon the relation of here, and began to enquire into their affairs abroad. i think i took notice in the beginning of my account of these parts, that i found them engag'd in a tedious and bloody war, with one of the most mighty monarchs of all the moon. i must therefore hint, that among the multitude of things, which for brevity sake i omit, the reader may observe these were some. 1. that this was the same monarch who harbour'd and entertain'd the abrogratzian prince, who was fled as before, and who we are to call the king of gallunaria. 2. i have omitted the account of a long and bloody war, which lasted a great many years, and which the present queens predecessor, mannag'd with a great deal of bravery and conduct, and finisht very much to his own glory, and the nations advantage. 3. i have too much omitted to note, how barbarously the high solunarian church men treated him for all his services, upbraided him with the expence of the war; and tho' he sav'd them all from ruin and abrogratzianism, yet had not one good word for him, and indeed 'tis with some difficulty that i pass this over, because it might be necessary to observe, besides what is said before, that ingratitude is a vice in nature, and practis'd every where, as well as in england. so that we need not upbraid the party among us with their ill treatment of the late king, for these people us'd their good king every jot as bad, till their unkindness perfectly broke his heart. here also i am oblig'd to omit the historical part of the war, and of the peace that follow'd; only i must observe that this peace was very precarious, short and unhappy, and in a few months the war broke out again, with as much fury as ever. in this war happen'd one of the strangest, unaccountable and most preposterous actions, that ever a people in their national capacity could be guilty of. certainly if our people in england, who pretend that kingship is jure divino, did but know the story of which i speak, they would be quite of another mind; wherefore i crave leave to relate part of the history, or original of this last war, as a necessary introduction to the proper observations i shall make upon it. there was a king of a certain country in the moon, call'd in their language, ebronia, who was formerly a confederate with the solunarians. this prince dying without issue, the great monarch we speak of, seiz'd upon all his dominions as his right.----tho' if i remember right, he had formerly sworn never to lay claim to it, and after that by a subsequent treaty had agreed with the solunarian prince, that another monarch who claim'd a right as well as he, should divide it between them. the breach of this agreement, and seizing this kingdom, put almost all the lunar world into a flame, and war hung over the heads of all the northern nations of the moon, for several claims were made to the succession by other princes, and particularly by a certain potent prince call'd the eagle, of an ancient family, whose lunar name i cannot well express, but in english it signifies the men of the great lip; whether it was originally a sort of a nick name, or whether they had any such thing as a great lip hereditary to the family, by which they were distinguisht, is not worth my while to examine. 'tis without question that the successive right, if their lunar successions, are govern'd as ours are in this world, devolv'd upon this man with the lip and his families; but the gallunarian monarch brought things so to pass, by his extraordinary conduct, that the ebronian king was drawn in by some of his nobility, who this prince had bought and brib'd to betray their country to his interest, and particularly a certain high priest of that country, to make an assignment, or deed of gift of all his dominions to the grandson of this gallunarian monarch. by vertue of this gift, or legacy, as soon as the king dyed, who was then languishing, and as the other parry alledg'd, not in a very good capacity to make a will; the gallunarian king sent his grandson to seize upon the crown, and backing him with suitable forces, took possession of all his strong fortifications and frontiers. nor was this all, the man with the lip indeed talkt big, and threatned war immediately, but the solunarians were so unsettl'd at home, so unprepar'd for war, having but just dismist their auxiliar troops, and disbanded their own, and the prince was so ill serv'd by his subjects, that both he and a powerful neighbour, nations in the same interest, were meerly bullyed by this gallunarian; and as he threatned immediately to invade them, which they were then in no condition to prevent, he forc'd them both to submit to his demand, tacitely allow what he had done in breaking the treaty with him, and at last openly acknowledge his new king. this was indeed a most unaccountable step, but there was a necessity to plead, for he was at their very doors with his forces; and this neighbouring people, who they call mogenites, could not resist him without help from the solunarians, which they were very backward in, notwithstanding the earnest sollicitations of their prince, and notwithstanding they were oblig'd to do it by a solemn treaty. these delays oblig'd them to this strange step of acknowledging the invasion of their enemy, and pulling off the hat to the new king he had set up. 'tis true, the policy of these lunar nations was very remarkable in this case, and they out-witted the gallunarian monarch in it; for by the owning this prince, whom they immediately after declar'd a usurper, and made war against; they stopt the mouth of the gallunarian his grandfather, took from him all pretence of invading them, and making him believe they were sincere, wheedl'd him to restore several thousands of their men who he had taken prisoners in the frontier towns of the ebronians. had the gallunarian prince had but the forecast to ha' seen, that this was but a forc'd pretence to gain time, and that as soon as they had their troops clear and time to raise more, they would certainly turn upon him again, he would never ha' been put by with so weak a trifle as the ceremony of congratulation; whereas had he immediately pusht at them with all his forces, they must ha' been ruin'd, and he had carry'd his point without much interruption. but here he lost his opportunity, which he never retriev'd; for 'tis in the moon, just as 'tis here, when an occasion is lost, it is not easy to be recover'd, for both the solunarians and the mogenites quickly threw off the mask, and declaring this new prince an usurper, and his grandfather an unjust breaker of treaties, they prepar'd for war against them both. as to the honesty of this matter, my philosopher and i differ'd extremely, he exclaim'd against the honour of acknowledging a king, with a design to depose him, and pretending peace when war is design'd; tho' 'tis true, they are too customary in our world; but however, as to him i insisted upon the lawfulness of it, from the universal custom of nations, who generally do things ten times more preposterous and inconsistent, when they suit their occasions. yet i hope no body will think i am recommending them by this relation to the practice of our own nations, but rather exposing them as unaccountable things never to be put in practice, without quitting all pretences to justice and national honesty. the case was this. as upon the progress of matters before related, the solunarians and mogenites had made a formal acknowledgment of this new monarch, the grandson of the gallunarian king, so as i have hinted already, they had no other design than to depose him, and pull him down. accordingly, as soon as by the aforesaid wile they had gain'd breath, and furnisht themselves with forces, they declar'd war against both the gallunarian king, and his grandson, and entred into strict confederacy with the man of the great lip, who was the monarch of the eagle, and who by right of succession, had the true claim to the ebronian crowns. in these declarations they alledge that crowns do not descend by gift, nor are kingdoms given away by legacy, like a gold ring at a funeral, and therefore this young prince could have no right, the former deceas'd king having no right to dispose it by gift. i must allow, that judging by our reason, and the practice in our countries here, on this side the moon; this seem'd plain, and i saw no difference in matters of truth there, or here, but right and liberty both of princes and people seems to be the same in that world, as it is in this, and upon this account i thought the reasons of this war very just, and that the claim of right to the succession of the ebronian crown, was undoubtedly in the man with the lip, and his heirs, and so far the war was most just, and the design reasonable. and thus far my lunar companion agreed with me, and had they gone on so, says he, they had my good wishes, and my judgment had been witness to my pretences, that they were in the right. but in the prosecution of this war, says he, they went on to one of the most impolitick, ridiculous, dishonest, and inconsistent actions, that ever any nation in the moon was guilty of; the fact was thus. having agreed among themselves that the ebronian crown should not be possest by the gallunarian king's grandson, they in the next place began to consider who should have it. the man with the lip had the title, but he had a great government of his own, powerful, happy and remote, being as is noted, the lord of the great eagle, and he told them he could not pretend to come to ebronia to be a king there; his eldest son truly was not only declar'd heir apparent to his father, but had another lunarian kingdom of his own still more remote than that, and he would not quit all this for the crown of ebronia, so it was concerted by all the confederated parties, that the second son of this prince, the man with the lip, should be declar'd king, and here lay the injustice of all the case. i confess at my first examining this matter, i did not see far into it, nor could i reach the dishonesty of it, and perhaps the reader of these sheets may be in the same case; but my old lunarian friend being continually exclaiming against the matter, and blaming his country-men the solunarians for the dishonesty of it, but especially the mogenites, he began to be something peevish with me that i should be so dull as not to reach it, and askt me if he should screw me into the thinking-press for the clearing up my understanding. at last he told me he would write his particular sentiments of this whole affair in a letter to me, which he would so order as it should effectually open mine eyes; which indeed it did, and so i believe it will the eyes of all that read it; to which purpose i have obtain'd of the author to assist me in the translation of it, he having some knowledge also in our sublunar languages. the sustance of a letter, wrote to the author of these sheets, while he was in the regions of the moon. 'friend from the moon, 'according to my promise, i hereby give you a scheme of solunarian honesty, join'd with mogenite policy, and my opinion of the action of my country-men and their confederates, in declaring their new made ebronian king. 'the mogenites and solunarians are look'd upon here to be the original contrivers of this ridiculous piece of pageantry, and tho' some of their neighbours are suppos'd to have a hand in it, yet we all lay it at the door of their politicks, and for the honesty of it let them answer it if they can. ''tis observ'd here, that as soon as the king of gallunaria had declar'd that he accepted the will and disposition of the crown of ebronia, in favour of his grandson, and that according to the said disposition, he had own'd him for king; and in order to make it effectual, had put him into immediate possession of the kingdom. the mogenites and their confederates made wonderful clamours at the injustice of his proceedings, and particularly on account of his breaking the treaty then lately entred into with the king of the solunarians and the mogenites, for the settling the matter of right and possession, in case of the demise of the ebronian king. 'however, the king of gallunaria had no sooner plac'd his grandson on the throne, but the mogenites and other nations, and to all our wonder, the king of solunaria himself acknowledg'd him, own'd him, sent their ministers, and compliments of congratulation, and the like, giving him the title of king of ebronia. 'tho' this proceeding had something of surprize in it, and all men expected to see something more than ordinary politick in the effect of it, yet it did not give half the astonishment to the lunar world, as this unaccountable monster of politicks begins to do. 'we have here two unlucky fellows, call'd pasquin and marforio, these had a long dialogue about this very matter, and pasquin as he always lov'd mischief, told a very unlucky story to his comrade, of a high mogenite skipper, as follows. 'a mogenite ship coming from a far country, the custom house officers found some goods on board, which were controband, and for which they pretended the ship and goods were all confiscated; the skipper, or captain in a great fright, comes up to the custom-house, and being told he must swear to something relating to his taking in those goods, reply'd in his country jargon, ya, dat sall ick doen myn heer; or in english, ay, ay, i'll swear.----but finding they did not assure him that it would clear his ship he scruples the oath again, at which they told him it would clear his ship immediately. hael, well myn heer, says the mogen man, vat mot ick sagen, ick sall all swear myn skip to salvare, i.e. i shall swear any thing to save my skip. 'we apply this story thus. 'if the mogenites did acknowledge the king of ebronia, we did believe it was done to save the skip; and when they reproacht the gallunarian king, with breaking the treaty of division, we us'd to say we would all break thro' twice as many engagements for half as much advantage. 'this setting up a new king, against a king on the throne, acknowledg'd and congratulated by them, is not only look'd on in the lunar world, as a thing ridiculous, but particularly infamous, that they should first acknowledge a king, and then set up the title of another. if the title of the first ebronian king be good, this must be an impostor, an usurper of another man's right; if it was not good, why did they acknowledge him, and give him the full title of all the ebronian dominions? caress and congratulate him, and make a publick action of it to his ambassador. 'will they tell us they were bully'd, and frighted into it? that is to own they may be hufft into an ill action; for owing a man in the posession of what is none of his own, is an ill thing, and he that may be hufft into one ill action, may by consequence be hufft into another, and so into any thing. 'what will they say for doing it? we have heard there has been in the world you came from, a way found out to own kings de facto, but not de jure; if they will fly to that ridiculous shift, let them tell the world so, that we may know what they mean, for those foolish things are not known here. 'if they own'd the king of ebronia voluntarily, and acknowledg'd his right as we thought they had; how then can this young gentleman have a title, unless they have found out a new division, and so will have two kings of ebronia, make them partners, and have a gallunarian king of ebronia, and a mogenite king of ebronia, both together? 'our lunar nations, princes and states, whatever they may do in your world, always seek for some pretences at least to make their actions seem honest, whither they are so or no; and therefore they generally publish memorials, manifesto's and declarations, of their reasons why, and on what account they do so, or so; that those who have any grounds to charge them with unjustice, may be answer'd, and silenc'd; 'tis for the people in your country, to fall upon their neighbours, only because they will do it, and make probability of conquest, a sufficient reason of conquest; the lunarian nations are seldom so destitute of modesty, but that they will make a shew of justice, and make out the reasons of their proceedings; and tho' sometimes we find even the reasons given for some actions are weak enough; yet it is a bad cause indeed, that can neither have a true reason, nor a pretended one. the custom of the moon has oblig'd us to show so much respect to honesty, that when our actions have the least colour of honesty, yet we will make reasons to look like a defence, whether it be so or no. 'but here is an action that has neither reality, nor pretence, here is not face enough upon it to bear an apology. first, they acknowledge one king, and then set up another king against him; either they first acknowledg'd a wrong king, and thereby became parties to a usurper, or they act now against all the rules of common justice in the world, to set up a sham king, to pull down a true one, only because 'tis their interest to have it so. 'this makes the very name of a solunarian scandalous to all the moon, and mankind look upon them with the utmost prejudice, as if they were a nation who had sold all their honesty to their interest; and who could act this way to day, and that way to morrow, without any regard to truth, or the rule of honour, equity or conscience; this is swearing any thing to save the skip; and never let any man reproach the gallunarian king with breaking the treaty of division, and disregarding the faith and stipulations of leagues; for this is an action so inconsistent with it self, so incongruous to common justice, to the reason and nature of things, that no history of any of these latter times can parallel it, and 'tis past the power of art to make any reasonable defence for it. 'indeed some lame reasons are given for it by our polititians. first, they say the prince with the great lip was extremely prest by the gallunarians at home in his own country, and not without apprehensions of seeing them e'er long, under the walls of his capital city. 'from this circumstance of the man with the lip, 'twas not irrational to expect that he might be induc'd to make a separate peace with the gallunarians, and serve them as he did once the prince of berlindia at the treaty of peace in a former war, where he deserted him after the solemnest engagements never to make peace without him; but his pressing occasions requiring it, concluded a peace without him, and left him to come out of the war, as well as he could, tho' he had come into it only for his assistance. now finding him in danger of being ruin'd by the gallunarian power, and judging from former practice in like cases, that he might be hurry'd into a peace, and leave them in the lurch; they have drawn him into this labrinth, as into a step, which can never be receded from without the utmost affront and disgrace, either to the family of the gallunarian, or of the lip; an action which in its own nature, is a defiance of the whole gallunarian power, and without any other manifesto, may be taken as a declaration from the house of the lip, to the gallunarian, that this war shall never end, till one of those two families are ruin'd and reduc'd. 'what condition the prince with the lip's power is in, to make such a huff at this time, shall come under examination by and by; in the mean time the solunarians have clench'd the nail, and secur'd the war to last as long as they think convenient. 'if the gallunarians should get the better, and reduce the man with the lip to terms never so disadvantageous, he cannot now make a peace without leave from the solunarians and the mogenites, least his son should be ruin'd also.----or if he should make articles for himself, it must be with ten times the dishonour that he might have done before. 'politicians say, 'tis never good for a prince to put himself into a case of desperation. this is drawing the sword, and throwing away the scabbard; if a disaster should befal him, his retreat is impossible, and this must have been done only to secure the man with the lip from being hufft, or frighted into a separate peace. 'the second reason people here give, why the solunarians are concerning themselves in this matter, is drawn from trade. 'the continuing of ebronia in the hands of the gallunarians, will most certainly be the destruction of the solunarian and mogenites trade, both to that kingdom, and the whole seas on that side of the moon; as this article includes a fifth part of all the trade of the moon, and would in conjunction with the gallunarians at last bring the mastership of the sea, out of the hands of the other, so it would in effect be more detriment to those two nations, than ten kingdoms lost, if they had them to part with. 'this the solunarians foreseeing, and being extremely sensible of the entire ruin of their trade, have left no stone unturn'd to bring this piece of pageantry on the stage, by which they have hook'd in the old black eagle to plunge himself over head and ears in the quarrel, in such a manner, as he can never go back with any tolerable honour; he can never quit his son and the crown of ebronia, without the greatest reproach and disgrace of all the world in the moon. 'now whether one, or both of these reasons are true in this case, as most believe both of them to be true; the policy of my country-men, the solunarians is visible indeed, but as for their honesty, it is past finding out. 'but it is objected here, this son of the lip has an undoubted right to the crown of ebronia. we do not fight now to set up an usurper, but to pull down an usurper, and it has been made plain by the manifesto, that the giving a kingdom by will, is no conveyance of right; the prince of the eagle has an undoubted right, and they fight to maintain it. 'if this be true, then we must ask these high and mighty gentlemen how came they to recognize and acknowledge the present king on the throne? why did they own an usurper if he be such? either one or other must be an act of cowardize and injustice, and all the politicks of the moon cannot clear them of one of these two charges; either they were cowardly knaves before, or else they must be cunning knaves now. 'if the young eagle has an undoubted title now, so he had before, and they knew it as well before, as they do now; what can they say for themselves, why they should own a king, who they knew had no title, or what can they say for going to pull down one that has a title? 'i must be allow'd to distinguish between fighting with a nation, and fighting with the king. for example. our quarrel with the gallunarians is with the whole nation, as they are grown too strong for their neighbours. but our quarrel with ebronia is not with the nation, but with their king, and this quarrel seems to be unjust in this particular, at least in them who own'd him to be king, for that put an end to the controversy. ''tis true, the justice of publick actions, either in princes, or in states, is no such nice thing, that any body should be surpriz'd, to see the government forfeit their faith, and it seems the solunarians are no more careful this way, than their neighbours. but then those people should in especial manner forbear to reproach other nations and princes, with the breaches which they themselves are subject too. 'as to the eagle, we have nothing to say to the honesty of his declaring his son king of ebronia, for as is hinted before, he never acknowledg'd the title of the usurper, but always declar'd, and insisted on his own undoubted right, and that he would recover it if he could. 'without doubt the eagle has a title by proximity of blood, founded on the renunciation of the king of gallunaria formerly mention'd, and if the will of the late king be invalid, or he had no right to give the soveraignty of his kingdoms away, then the eagle is next heir. 'but as we quit his morals, and justify the honesty of his proceedings in the war, against the present king of ebronia, so in this action of declaring his second son. we must begin to question his understanding, and saying a respect of decency, it looks as if his musical head was out of tune, to illus tratellus. i crave leave to tell you a story out of your own country, which we have heard of hither. a french man that could speak but broken english, was at the court of england, when on some occasion he happen'd to hear the title of the king of england read thus, charles the ii. king of england, scotland france and ireland. 'vat is dat you say? says monsieur, being a little affronted, the man reads it again, as before. charles the second, king of england, scotland, france and ireland.-----charles the second, king of france! ma foy, says the french man, you can no read, charles the second, king of france, ha! ha! ha! charles the second, king of france, when he can catch. any one may apply the story, whether it was a true one or no. 'all the lunar world looks on it, therefore, as a most ridiculous, senseless thing, to make a man a king of a country he has not one foot of land in, nor can have a foot there, but what he must fight for. as to the probability of gaining it, i have nothing to say to it, but if we may guess at his success there, by what has been done in other parts of the moon, we find he has fought three campaigns, to lose every foot he had got. 'it had been much more to the honour of the eagle's conduct, and of the young hero himself, first to ha' let him ha' fac'd his enemy in the field, and as soon as he had beaten him, the ebronians would have acknowledg'd him fast enough; or his own victorious troops might have proclaim'd him at the gate of their capital city; and if after all, the success of the war had deny'd him the crown he had fought for, he had the honour to have shown his bravery, and he had been where he was, a prince of the great lip. a son of the eagle is a title much more honourable than a king without a crown, without subjects, without a kingdom, and another man upon his throne; but by this declaring him king, the old eagle has put him under a necessity of gaining the kingdom of ebronia, which at best is a great hazard, or if he fails to be miserably despicable, and to bear all his life the constant chagrin of a great title and no possession. 'how ridiculous will this poor young gentleman look, if at last he should be forc'd to come home again without his kingdom? what a king of clouts will he pass for, and what will this king-making old gentlemen, his father say, when the young hero shall tell him, your majesty has made me mock king for all the world to laugh at. ''twas certainly the weakest thing that could be, for the eagle thus to make him a king of that, which, were the probability greater than it is, he may easily, without the help of a miracle, be disappointed of. ''tis true, the confederates talk big, and have lately had a great victory, and if talk will beat the king of ebronia out of his kingdom, he is certainly undone, but we do not find the gallunarians part with any thing they can keep, nor that they quit any thing without blows; it must cost a great deal of blood and treasure before this war can be ended; if absolute conquest on one side must be the matter, and if the design on ebronia should miscarry, as one voyage thither has done already, where are we then? let any man but look back, and consider what a sorry figure your confederate fleet in your world had made, after their andalusian expedition, if they had not more by fate than conduct, chopt upon a booty at vigo as they came back. 'in the like condition, will this new king come back, if he should go for a kingdom and should not catch, as the french man call'd it. 'tis in the sense of the probability of this miscarriage, that most men wonder at these unaccountable measures, and think the eagles councils look a little wildish, as if some of his great men were grown dilirious and whymsical, that fancy'd crowns and kingdoms were to come and go, just as the great divan at their court should direct. this confusion of circumstances has occasion'd a certain copy of verses to appear about the moon, which in our characters may be read as follows. wondelis idulasin na perixola metartos, strigunia crolias xerin hytale fylos; farnicos galvare orpto sonamel egonsberch, sih lona sipos gullia ropta tylos. 'which may be english'd thus. casar you trifle with the world in vain, think rather now of germany than spain; he's hardly fit to fill th' eagle's throne, who gives new crowns, and can't protect his own. 'but after all to come closer to the point, if i can now make it out that whatever it was before, this very practice of declaring a second son to be king of ebronia, has publickly own'd the proceedings of the king of gallunaria to be just, and the title of his grandson to be much better than the title of the now declar'd king, what shall we call it then? 'in order to this, 'tis first necessary to examine the title of the present king, and to enter into the history of his coming to the crown, in which i shall be very brief. 'the last king of ebronia dying without issue, and a former renunciation taking place, the succession devolves on the house of the eagle as before, of whom the present eagle is the eldest branch. 'but the late king of ebronia, to prevent the succession of the eagle's line, makes a will, and supplies the proviso of renunciation by devising, giving or bequeathing the crown to the grandson of his sister. 'the king of gallunaria insists that this is a lawful title to the crown, and seizes it accordingly, inflating his grandson in the possession. 'the eagle alledges the renunciation to confirm his title as heir; and as to the will of the late king, he says crowns cannot descend by gift, and tho' the late king had an undoubted right to enjoy it himself, he had none to give it away. 'to make the application of this history as short as may be, i demand then what right has the eagle to give it to his second son? if crowns are not to descend by gift, he may have a right to enjoy it, but can have none to give it away, but if he has a right to give it away; so had the former king, and then the present king has a better title to it than the new one, because his gift was prior to this of the eagle. 'i would be glad to see this answer'd; and if it can't, then i query whether the eagle's senses ought not to be question'd, for setting up a title very foundation for which he quarrels at him that is in possession, and so confirm the honesty of the possessor's title by his own practice.? 'from the whole, i make no scruple to say that either the eagle's second son has no title to the kingdom of ebronia, or else giving of crowns is a legal practice; and if crowns may descend by gift, then has the other king a better title than he, because it was given him first, and the eagle has only given away what he had no right to, because 'twas given away before he had any title to it himself. 'further, the posterity of the eagle's eldest son are manifestly injur'd in this action, for kings can no more give away their crowns from their posterity, than from themselves; if the right be in the eagle, 'tis his, as he's the eldest male branch of the house of the great lip, not as he is eagle, and from him the crown of ebronia by the same right of devolution descends to his posterity, and rests on the male line of every eldest branch. if so, no act of renunciation can alter this succession, for that is a gift, and the gift is exploded, or else the whole house of the great lip is excluded; so that let the argument be turn'd and twisted never so many ways, it all centers in this, that the present person can have no title to the crown of ebronia. 'if he has any title, 'tis from the gift of his father and elder brother; if the gift of a crown is no good title, then his title cannot be good; if the gift of a crown is a good title, then the crown was given away before, and so neither he nor his father has any title. 'let him that can answer these paradoxes defend his title if he can; and what shall we now say to the war in ebronia, only this, that they are going to fight for the crown of ebronia? and to take it away from one that has no right to it, to give it to one that has a less right than he, and 'tis to be fear'd that if heaven be righteous, 'twill succeed accordingly. 'the gentlemen of letters who have wrote of this in our lunar world, on the subject of the gallunarians title, have took a great deal of liberty in the eagle's behalf, to banter and ridicule the gallunarian sham of a title, as if it were a pretence too weak for any prince to make use of, to talk of kings giving their crowns by will. kingdoms and governments, says a learned lunar author, are not things of such indifferent value to be given away, like a token left for a legacy. if any prince has ever given or transferr'd his government, it has been done by solemn act, and the people have been call'd to assent and confirm such concessions. 'then the same author goes on, to treat the king of gallunaria with a great deal of severity, and exposes his politicks, that he should think to put upon the moon with so empty, so weak, so ridiculous a pretence, as the will of a weak headed prince, who neither had a right to give his crown, nor a brain to know what he was doing, and he laughs to think what the king of gallunaria would have said to have such a dull trick as that, put upon him in any such case. 'now when we have been so witty upon this very article, of giving away the crown to the king of gallunaria's grandson, as an incongruous and ridiculous thing, shall we come to make the same incongruity be the foundation of a war? 'with what justice can we make a war for a prince who has only a good title, by vertue of the self same action which makes the grandson of his enemy have a bad title. 'i always thought we had a just ground to make war on ebronia, as we were bound by former alliances to assist the eagle in the recovery of it in case of the death of the late king of that country. 'but now the eagle has refus'd the succession, and his eldest son has refus'd it, i would be glad to see it prov'd how the second son can have a title, and yet the other king have no title. 'what a strange sort of a thing is the crown of ebronia, that two of the greatest princes of the lunar world should fight, not who shall have it, for neither of them will accept of it, but who shall have the power of giving it away. 'here are four princes refuse it; the king of gallunaria's sons had a title in right of their mother, and 'twas not the former renunciations that would have barr'd them, if this softer way had not been found out; for time was it has been pleaded on behalf of the eldest son of the gallunarian king, that his mother could not give away his right before he was born. 'then the eagle has a right, and under him his eldest son; and none of all these four will accept of the crown; i believe all the moon can't find four more that would refuse it. 'now, tho' none of these think it worth accepting themselves, yet they fall out about the right of giving it away. the king of gallunaria will not accept of it himself, but he gets a gift from the last incumbent. this, says the eagle, can't be a good title, for the late king had no right to make a deed of gift of the crown, since a king is only tennant for life, and succession of crowns either must descend by a lineal progression in the right of primogeniture, or else they lose the tenure, and devolve on the people. 'now as this argument holds good the eagle has an undoubted title to the crown of ebronia: but then, says his eaglish majesty, i cannot accept of the crown my self for i am the eagle, and my eldest son has two kingdoms already, and is in a fair way to be eagle after me, and 'tis not worth while for him, but i have a second son, and we will give it him. 'now may the king of gallunaria say, if one gift is good, another is good, and ours is the first gift, and therefore we will keep it; and tho' i solemnly declare i should be very sorry to see the crown of ebronia rest in the house of the gallunarian, because our trade will suffer exceedingly; yet if never so much damage were to come of it, we ought to do justice in the world; if neither the eagle nor his eldest son will be king of ebronia, but a deed of gift shall be made, the first gift has the right, for nothing can be given away to two people at once, and 'tis apparent that the late king had as much right to give it away as any body. 'the poor ebronians are in a fine condition all this while, that no body concerns them in the matter; neither party has so much as thought it worth while to ask them who they would have to reign over them, here has been no assembly, no cortez, no meeting of the people of ebronia, neither collectively or representatively, no general convention of the nobility, no house of feathers, but ebronia lies as the spoil of the victor wholly passive, and her people and princes, as if they were wholly unconcern'd, lie by and look on, whoever is like to be king, they are like to suffer deeply by the strife, and yet neither side has thought fit to consult them about it. 'the conclusion of the whole matter is in short this, here is certainly a false step taken, how it shall be rectify'd is not the present business, nor am i wise enough to prescribe. one man may do in a moment what all the lunar world cannot undo in an age. 'tis not be thought the eagle will be prevail'd on to undo it, nay he has sworn not to alter it. 'i am not concern'd to prove the title of the present king of ebronia, no, nor of the eagles neither; but i think i can never be answer'd in this, that this gift of the eagles to his second son is preposterous, inconsistent with all his claim to the crown, and the greatest confirmation of the title of his enemy that it was possible to give, and no doubt the gallunarians will lay hold of the argument. 'if this prince was the eagle's eldest son, he might have a just right from the concession of his father, because the right being inherent, he only receiv'd from him an investiture of time, but as this young gentleman is a second son he has no more right, his elder brother being alive, than your grand seignior, or czar of muscovy in your world. 'let them fight then for such a cause, who valuing only the pay, make war a trade, and fight for any thing they are bid to fight for, and as such value not the justice of the war, nor trouble their heads about causes and consequences, so they have their pay, 'tis well enough for them. 'but were the justice of the war examin'd, i can see none, this declaring a new king who has no right but by a gift, and pulling down one that had it by a gift before, has so much contradiction in it, that i am afraid no wise man, or honest man will embark in it. your humble servant, the man in the moon. i wou'd have no body now pretend to scandalize the writer of this letter, which being for the gallunarians, for no man in the moon had more aversion for them than he, but he would have had the war carry'd on upon a right bottom, justice and honesty regarded in it, and as he said often, they had no need to go out of the road of justice, for had they made war in the great eagle's name all had been well. nor was he a false prophet, for as this was ill grounded, so it was as ill carry'd on, met with shocks, rubs and disappointments every way. the very first voyage the new king made, he had like to ha' been drown'd by a very violent tempest, things not very usual in those countries; and all the progress that had been made in his behalf when i came away from that lunar world, had not brought him so much as to be able to set his foot upon his new kingdom of ebronia, but his adversary by wonderful dexterity, and the assistance of his old grandfather the gallunarian monarch, beat his troops upon all occasions, invaded his ally that pretended to assist him, and kept a quiet possession of all the vast ebronian monarchy; and but at last by the powerful diversion of the solunarian fleet, a shock was given them on another side, which if it had not happen'd, it was thought the new king had been sent home again re infecta. being very much shockt in my judgment of this affair, by these unanswerable reasons; i enquir'd of my author who were the directors of this matter? he told me plainly it was done by those great states men, which the solunarian queen had lately very justly turn'd out, whose politicks were very unaccountable in a great many other things, as well as in that. 'tis true, the war was carry'd on under the new ministry, and no war in the world can be juster, on account of the injustice and encroachment of the gallunarian monarch. the queen therefore and her present ministers, go on with the war on principles of confederacy; 'tis the business of the solunarians to beat the invader out, and then let the people come and make a fair decision who they will have to reign over them. this indeed justifies the war in ebronia to be right, but for the personal proceedure as before, 'tis all contradiction and can never be answer'd. i hope no man will be so malicious, as to say i am hereby reflecting on our war with spain. i am very forward to say, it is a most just and reasonable war, as to paralels between the case of the princes, in defending the matter of personal right, hic labor, hoc opus. thus however you see humanum eft errare, whether in this world or in the moon, 'tis all one, infallibility of councels any more than of doctrine, is not in man. the reader may observe, i have formerly noted there was a new consolidator to be built, and observ'd what struggle there was in the moon about choosing the feathers. i cannot omit some further remarks here, as 1. it is to be observ'd, that this last consolidator was in a manner quite worn out.----it had indeed continu'd but 3 year, which was the stated time by law, but it had been so hurry'd, so party rid, so often had been up in the moon, and made so many such extravagant flights, and unnecessary voyages thither, that it began to be exceedingly worn and defective. 2. this occasion'd that the light fluttering feathers, and the fermented feathers made strange work of it; nay, sometimes they were so hot, they were like to ha' ruin'd the whole fabrick, and had it not been for the great feather in the center, and a few negative feathers who were wiser than the rest, all the machines had been broke to pieces, and the whole nation put into a most strange confusion. sometimes their motion was so violent an precipitant, that there was great apprehensions of its being set on fire by its own velocity, for swiftness of motion is allow'd by the sages and so so's to produce fire as in wheels, mills and several sorts of mechanick engines which are frequently fir'd, and so in thoughts, brains, assemblies, consolidators, and all such combustible things. indeed these things were of great consequence, and therefore require some more nice examination than ordinary, and the following story will in part explain it. among the rest of the broils they had with the grandees, one happen'd on this occasion. one of the tacking feathers being accidentally met by a grandee's footman, whom it seems wanted some manners, the slave began to haloo him in the street, with a tacker, a tacker, a feather-fool, a tacker, &c. and so brought the mob about him, and had not the grandee himself come in the very interim, and rescu'd the feather, the mob had demolisht him, they were so enrag'd. as this gentleman-feather was rescu'd with great courtesie by the grandee, taken into his coach and carry'd home to his house, he desir'd to speak with the footman. the fellow being call'd in, was ask't by him who employ'd him, or set him on to offer him this insult? the footman being a ready bold fellow, told him no body sir, but you are all grown so ridiculous to the whole nation, that if the 134 of you were left but to us footmen, and it was not in more respect to our masters, than you, we should cure you of ever coming into the consolidator again, and all the people in the moon are of our mind. but says the feather, why do you call me fool too? why sir, says he, because no body could ever tell us what it was you drove at, and we ha' been told you never knew your selves; now if one of you tacking feathers would but tell the world what your real design was, they would be satisfy'd, but to be leaders in the consolidator, and to act without meaning, without thought or design, must argue your' fools, or worse, and you will find all the moon of my mind. but what if we had a meaning, says the feather-man? why then, says the footman, we shall leave calling you fools, and call you knaves, for it could never be an honest one, so that you had better stand as you do: and i make it out thus. you knew, that upon your tacking the crolians to the tribute bill, the grandees must reject both, they having declar'd against reading any bills tackt together, as being against their priviledges. now if you had any design, it must be to have the bill of tribute lost, and that must be to disappoint all the publick affairs, expose the queen, break all measures, discourage the confederates, and putting all things backward, bring the gallunarian forces upon them, and put all solunaria into confusion. now sir, says he, we cannot have such course thoughts of you, as to believe you could design such dark, mischievous things as these, and therefore we chose to believe you all fools, and not fit to be put into a consolidator again; than knaves and traytors to your country, and consequently fit for a worse place. the plainness of the footman was such, and so unanswerable, that his master was fain to check him, and so the discourse broke off, and we shall leave it there, and proceed to the story. the men of the feather as i have noted, who are represented here by the consolidator, fell all together by the ears, and all the moon was in a combustion. the case was as follows. they had three times lost their quallifying law, and particularly they observ'd the grandees were the men that threw it out, and notwithstanding the plot of the tackers, as they call'd them, who were as i noted, observ'd to be in conjunction with the crolians, yet the law always past the feathers, but still the grandees quasht it. to show their resentment at the grandees, they had often made attempts to mortify them, sometimes arraigning them in general, sometimes impeaching private members of their house, but still all wou'd not do, the grandees had the better of them, and going on with regularity and temper, the consolidators or feather-men always had the worst, the grandees had the applause of all the moon, had the last blow on every occasion, and the other sunk in their reputation exceedingly. it is necessary to understand here, that the men of the feather serve in several capacities, and under several denominations, and act by themselves, singly consider'd, they are call'd the consolidator, and the feathers we mention'd abstracted from their persons, make the glorious engine we speak of, and in which, when any suddain motion takes them, they can all shut themselves up, and away for the moon. but when these are joyn'd with the grandees, and the queen, so united, they make a great cortez, or general collection of all the governing authority of the nation. when this last fraction happen'd, the men of the feather were under an exceeding ferment, they had in some passion taken into their custody, some good honest lunar country-men, for an offence, which indeed few but themselves ever immagin'd was a crime, for the poor men did nothing but pursue their own right by the law. 'tis thought the men of the feather soon saw they were in the wrong, but acted like some men in our world, that when they make a mistake, being too proud to own themselves in the wrong, run themselves into worse errors to mend it. so these lunar gentlemen disdaining to have it said they could be mistaken, committed two errors to conceal one, 'till at last they came to be laught at by all the moon. these poor men having lain a long while in prison, for little or no crime, at last were advis'd to apply themselves to the law for discharge; the law would fairly have discharg'd them; for in that country, no man may be imprison'd, but he must in a certain time be tryed, or let go upon pledges of his friends, much like our giving bail on a writ of habeas corpus; but the judges, whether over-aw'd by the feathers, or what was the cause, authors have not determin'd, did not care to venture discharging them. the poor men thus remanded, apply'd themselves to the grandees who were then sitting, and who are the soveraign judicature of the country, and before whom appeals lie from all courts of justice. the grandees as in duty bound, appear'd ready to do them justice, but the queen was to be apply'd to, first to grant a writ, or a warrant for a writ, call'd in their country a writ of follies, which is as much as to say mistakes. the consolidators foreseeing the consequence, immediately apply'd themselves to the queen with an address, the terms of which were so undu----l and unman--ly, that had she not been a queen of unusual candor and goodness, she would have treated them as they deserv'd, for they upbraided her with their freedom and readiness in granting her supplies, and therefore as good as told her they expected she should do as they desir'd. these people that knew the supplies given, were from necessity, legal, and for their own defence, while the granting their request, must have been illegal, arbitrary, a dispensing with the laws, and denying justice to her subjects, the very thing they ruin'd her father for, were justly provok'd to see their good queen so barbarously treated. the queen full of goodness and calmness, gave them a gentle kind answer, but told them she must be careful to act with due regard to the laws, and could not interrupt the course of judicial proceedings; and at the same time granted the writ, having first consulted with her council, and receiv'd the opinion of all the judges, that it was not only safe, but just and reasonable, and a right to her people which she could not deny. this proceeding gall'd the feathers to the quick, and finding the grandees resolv'd to proceed judicially upon the said writ of follies, which if they did, the prisoners would be deliver'd and the follies fixt upon the feathers, they sent their poursuivants took them out of the common prison, and convey'd them separately and privately into prisons of their own. this rash and unprecedented proceedings, pusht them farther into a labrinth, from whence it was impossible they could ever find their way out, but with infinite loss to their reputation, like a sheep in a thick wood, that at every briar pulls some of the wool from her back, till she comes out in a most scandalous pickle of nakedness and scratches. the grandees immediately publisht six articles in vindication of the peoples right, against the assum'd priviledges of the feathers, the abstract of which is as follows. 1. that the feathers had no right to claim, or make any new priviledges for themselves, other than they had before. 2. that every freeman of the moon had a right to repel injury with law. 3. that imprisoning the 5 countrymen by the feathers, was assuming a new priviledge they had no right to, and a subjecting the subjects right to their arbitrary votes. 4. that a writ of deliverance, or removing the body, is the legal right of every subject in the moon, in order to his liberty, in case of imprisonment. 5. that to punish any person for assisting the subjects, in procuring or prosecuting the said writ of deliverance, is a breach of the laws, and a thing of dangerous consequence. 6. that a writ of follies is not a grace, but a right, and ought not to be deny'd to the subject. these resolves struck the languishing reputation of the feathers with the dead palsie, and they began to stink in the nostrils of all the nations in the moon. but besides this, they had one strange effect, which was a prodigious disappointment to the men of the feather. i had observ'd before, that there was to be a new set of feathers, provided in order to building another consolidator, according to a late law for a new engine every three years. now several of these men of the feather, who thought their feathers capable of serving again, had made great interest, and been at great cost to have their old feathers chosen again, but the people had entertain'd such scoundrel opinions of these proceedings, such as tacking, consolidating, imprisoning electors, impeaching without tryal, writs of follies and the like, that if any one was known to be concern'd in any of these things, no body would vote for him. the gentlemen were so mortify'd at this, that even the hottest high-church solunarian of them all, if he put in any where to be re-chosen, the first thing he had to do, was to assure the people he was no tacker, none of the 134, and a vast deal of difficulty they had to purge themselves of this blessed action, which they us'd to value themselves on before, as their glory and merit. thus they grew asham'd of it as a crime, got men to go about to vouch for them to the country people, that they were no tackers, nay, one of them to clear himself loudly forswore it, and taking a glass of wine wisht it might never pass thro' him, if he was a tacker, tho' all men suspected him to be of that number too, he having been one of the forwardest that way on all occasions, of any person among the south folk of the moon. in like manner, one of the feathers for the middle province of the country, who us'd to think it his honour to be for the qualifying law, seeing which way the humour of the country ran, took as much pains now to tell the people he was no tacker, as he did before, to promise them that he would do his utmost to have the crolians reduc'd, and that bill to pass, the reason of which was plain, that he saw if it should be known he was a tacker, he should never have his feather return'd to be put into the consolidator. the heats and feuds that the feathers and the grandees were now run into, began to make the latter very uneasie, and they sent to the grandees to hasten them, and put them in mind of passing some laws they had sent up to them for raising mony, and which lay before them, knowing that as soon as those laws were past, the queen would break 'em up, and they being very willing to be gone, before these things came too far upon the stage, urg'd them to dispatch. but the grandees resolving to go thoro' with the matter, sent to them to come to a treaty on the foot of the six articles, and to bring any reasons they could, to prove the power they had to act as they had done with the country-men, and with the lawyers they had put in prison for assisting them. the feathers were very backward and stiff about this conference, or treaty, 'till at last the grandees having sufficiently expos'd them to all the nation, the bills were past, the grandees caus'd the particulars to be printed, and a representation of their proceedings, and the feathers foul dealings to the queen of the country, and so her majesty sent them home. but if they were asham'd of being call'd tackers before, they were doubly mortify'd at this now, nay the country resented it so exceedingly, that some of them began to consider whether they should venture to go home or no; printed lists of their names were publish'd, tho' we do not say they were true lists, for it was a hard thing to know which were true lists, and which were not, nor indeed could a true list be made, no man being able to retain the exact account of who were the men in his memory. for as there were 134 tackers, so there were 141 of these, who by a name of distinction, were call'd lebusyraneim, in english ailesbury-men. the people were so exasperated against these, that they express'd their resentment upon all occasions, and least the queen should think that the nation approv'd the proceedings, they drew up a representation or complaint, full of most dutiful expressions to their queen, and full of resentment against the feathers, the copy of which being handed about the moon the last time i was there, i shall take the pains to put it into english in the best manner i can, keeping as near the originial as possible. if any man shall now wickedly suggest, that this relation has any retrospect to the affairs of england, the author declares them malitious misconstruers of his honest relation of matters from this remote country, and offers his positive oath for their satisfaction, that the very last journy he made into those lunar regions, this matter was upon the stage, of which, if this treatise was not so near its conclusion, the reader might expect a more particular account. if there is any analogy or similitude between the transactions of either world, he cannot account for that, 'tis application makes the ass. and yet sometimes he has thought, as some people fable of the platonick year, that after such a certain revolution of time, all things are transacted over again, and the same people live again, are the fame fools, knaves, philosophers and mad-men they were before, tho' without any knowledge of, or retrospect to what they acted before; so why should it be impossible, that as the moon and this world are noted before to be twins and sisters, equal in motion and in influence, and perhaps in qualities, the same secret power should so act them, as that like actions and circumstances should happen in all parts of both worlds at the same time. i leave this thought to the improvement of our royal learned societies of the anticacofanums, opposotians, periodicarians, antepredestinarians, universal soulians, and such like unfathomable people, who, without question, upon mature enquiry will find out the truth of this matter. but if any one shall scruple the matter of fact as i have here related it, i freely give him leave to do as i did, and go up to the moon for a demonstration; and if upon his return he does not give ample testimony to the case in every part of it, as here related, i am content to pass for the contriver of it my self, and be punish'd as the law shall say i deserve. nor was this all the publick matters, in which this nation of solunarians took wrong measures, for about this time, the misunderstandings between the southern and northern men began again, and the solunarians made several laws, as they call'd them, to secure themselves against the dangers they pretended might accrue from the new measures the nolunarians had taken; but so unhappily were they blinded by the strife among themselves, and by-set by opinion and interest, that every law they made, or so much as attempted to make, was really to the advantage, and to the interest of the northern-men, and to their own loss; so ignorantly and weak-headed was these high solunarian church-men in the true interest of their country, led by their implacable malice at crolianism, which as is before noted, was the establisht religion of that country. but as this matter was but transacting when i took the other remarks, and that i did not obtain a full understanding of it, 'till my second voyage, i refer it to a more full relation of my farther travels that way, when i shall not fail to give a clear state of the debate of the two kingdoms, in which the southern men had the least reason, and the worst success that ever they had in any affair of that nature for many years before. it was always my opinion in affairs on this side the moon, that tho' sometimes a foolish bolt may hit the point, and a random shot kill the enemy, yet that generally discretion and prudence of mannagement, had the advantage, and met with a proportion'd success, find things were, or were not happy, in their conclusion as they were, more or less wisely contriv'd and directed. and tho' it may not be allow'd to be so here, yet i found it more constantly so there, effects were true to their causes, and confusion of councils never fail'd in the moon to be follow'd by distracted and destructive consequences. this appear'd more eminently in the dispute between these two lunar nations we are speaking of; never were people in the moon, whatever they might be in other places, so divided in their opinions about a matter of such consequence. some were for declaring war immediately upon the northern men, tho' they could show no reason at all why, only because they would not do as they would have 'em; a parcel of poor scoundrel, scabby rogues, they ought to be made submit, what! won't they declare the same king as we do! hang them rogues! a pack of crolian prestarian devils, we must make them do it, down with them the shortest way, declare war immediately, and down with them.-----nay some were for falling on them directly, without the formality of declaring war. others, more afraid than hurt, cry'd out invasions, depredation, fire and sword, the northern men would be upon them immediately, and propos'd to fortify their frontiers, and file off their forces to the borders; nay, so apprehensive did those men of prudence pretend to be, that they order'd towns to be fortify'd 100 mile off of the place, when all this while the poor northern men did nothing but tell them, that unless they would come to terms, they would not have the same king as they, and they took some measures to let them see they did not purpose to be forc'd to it. another sort of wiser men than these, propos'd to unite with them, hear their reasons, and do them right. these indeed were the only men that were in the right method of concluding this unhappy broil, and for that reason, were the most unlikely to succeed. but the wildest notion of all, was, when some of the grandees made a grave address to the queen of the country, to desire the northern men to settle matters first, and to tell them, that when that was done, they should see what these would do for them. this was a home stroke, if it had but hit, and the misfortune only lay in this, that the northern men were not fools enough; the clearness of the air in those cold climates generally clearing the head so early, that those people see much farther into a mill-stone than any blind man in all the southern nations of the moon. there was an another unhappiness in this case, which made the matter yet more confus'd, and that was, that the souldiers had generally no gust to this war.--this was an odd case; for those sort of gentlemen, especially in the world in the moon, don't use to enquire into the justice of the case they fight for, but they reckon 'tis their business to go where they are sent, and kill any body they are order'd to kill, leaving their governors to answer for the justice of it; but there was another reason to be given why the men of the sword were so averse, and always talk't coldly of the fighting part, and tho' the northern men call'd it fear, yet i cannot joyn with them in that, for to fear requires thinking; and some of our solunarians are absolutely protected from the first, because they never meddle with the last, except when they come to the engine, and therefore 'tis plain it could not proceed from fear. it has puzzl'd the most discerning heads of the age, to give a reason from whence this aversion proceeded, and various judgments have been given of it. the nolunarians jested with them, and when they talk't of fighting, bad them look back into history, and examine what they ever made of a nolunarian war, and whether they had not been often well beaten, and sent short home, bid them have a care of catching a tartar, as we call it, and always made themselves merry with it. they banter'd the solunarians too, about the fears and terrors they were under, from their arming themselves, and putting themselves in a posture of defence,----when it was easy to see by the nature of the thing, that their design was not a war, but a union upon just conditions, that it was a plain token that they design'd either to put some affront upon the nolunarians, to deny them some just claims, or to impose something very provoking upon them more than they had yet done, that they were so exceeding fearful of an invasion from them. tho' these were sufficient to pass for reasons in other cases, yet it could not be so here, but i saw there must be something else in it. as i was thus wondering at this unusual backwardness of the souldiers, i enquir'd a little farther into the meaning of it, and quickly found the reason was plain, there was nothing to be got by it, that people were brave, desperate and poor, the country barren, mountainous and empty, so that in short there would be nothing but blows, and souldiers fellows to be had, and i always observ'd that souldiers never care to be knockt on the head, and get nothing by the bargain. in short, i saw plainly the reasons that prompted the solunarians to insult their neighbours of the north, were more deriv'd from the regret at their establishing crolianism, than at any real causes they had given, or indeed were in a condition to give them. these, and abundance more particular observations i made, but as i left the thing still in agitation, and undetermin'd, i shall refer it to another voyage which i purpose to make thither, and at my return, may perhaps set that case in a clearer light than our sight can yet bear to look at it in. if in my second vovage i should undeceive people in the notions they entertain'd of those northern people, and convince them that the solunarians were really the aggressors, and had put great hardships upon them, i might possibly do a work, that if it met with encouragement, might bring the solunarians to do them justice, and that would set all to rights, the two nations might easily become one, and unite for ever, or at least become friends, and give mutual assistance to each other; and i cannot but own such an agreement would make them both very formidable, but this i refer to another time.----at the same time i cannot leave it without a remark that this jealousy between the two nations, may perhaps in future ages be necessary to be maintain'd, in order to find some better reasons for fortifications, standing armies, guards and garisons than could be given in the reign of the great prince i speak of, the queen's predecessor, tho' his was against forreign insulting enemy. but the temper of the solunarian high party was always such, that they would with much more case give thanks for a standing army against the nolunarians and crolians, than agree to one legion against the abrogratzians and gallunarians. but of these things i am also promis'd a more particular account upon my journy into that country. i cannot however conclude this matter, without giving some account of my private observations, upon what was farther to be seen in this country. and had not my remarks on their state matters taken up more of my thoughts than i expected, i might have entred a little upon their other affairs, such as their companies, their commerce, their publick offices, their stock-jobbers, their temper, their conversation, their women, their stages, universities, their courtiers, their clergy, and the characters of the severals under all these denominations, but these must be referr'd to time, and my more perfect observations. but i cannot omit, that tho' i have very little knowledge of books, and had obtain'd less upon their language, yet i could not but be very inquisitive after their libraries and men of letters. among their libraries i found not abundance of their own books, their learning having so much of demonstration, and being very hieroglyphical, but i found to my great admiration vast quantities of translated books out of all languages of our world. as i thought my self one of the first, at least of our nation, that ever came thus far; it was, you may be sure no small surprize to me to find all the most valluable parts of modern learning, especially of politicks, translated from our tongue, into the lunar dialect, and stor'd up in their libraries with the remarks, notes and observations of the learned men of that climate upon the subject. here, among a vast croud of french authors condemn'd in this polite world for trifling, came a huge volume containing, les oevres de scavans, which has 19 small bells painted upon the book of several disproportion'd sizes. i enquir'd the meaning of that hieroglyphick, which the master of the books told me, was to signify that the substance was all jingle and noise, and that of 30 volumes which that one book contains, 29 of them have neither substance, musick, harmony nor value in them. the history of the fulsoms, or a collection of 300 fine speeches made in the french accademy at paris, and 1500 gay flourishes out of monsieur boileau, all in praise of the invincible monarch of france. the duke of bavaria's manifesto, shewing the right of making war against our sovereigns, from whence the people of that lunar world have noted that the same reasons which made it lawful to him to attempt the imperial power, entitle him to lose his own, viz. conquest, and the longest sword. jack a both sides, or a dialogue between pasquin and marforio, upon the subject matter of the pope's sincerity in case of the war in italy. written by a citizen of ferrara. one side arguing upon the occasion of the pope's general wheedling the imperialists to quit that country. the other bantering imperial policy, or the germains pretending they were trickt out of italy, when they could stay there no longer. lewis the invincible, by monsieur boileau. a poem, on the glory of his most christian majesties arms at hochstedt, and verue. all these translations have innumerable hyerogliphical notes, and emblems painted on them, which pass as comments, and are readily understood in that climate. for example, on the vol. of dialogues are two cardinals washing the pope's hands under a cloud that often bespatters them with blood, signifying that in spight of all his pretensions he has a hand in the broils of italy. and before him the sun setting in a cloud, and a blind ballad-singer making sonnets upon the brightness of its lustre. the three kings of brentford, being some historical observations on three mighty monarchs in our world, whose heroick actions may be the subject of future ages, being like to do little in this, the king of england, king of poland, and king of spain. these are describ'd by a figure, representing a castle in the air, and three knights pointing at it, but they could not catch. i omit abundance of very excellent pieces, because remote, as three great volumes of european misteries, among the vast varieties of which, and very entertaining, i observ'd but a few, such as these: 1. why prince ragotski will make no peace with the emperor.--but more particularly why the emperor won't make peace with him. 2. where the policy of the king of sweden lies, to persue the king of poland, and let the muscovites ravage and destroy his own subjects. 3. what the duke of bavaria propos'd to himself in declaring for france. 4. why the protestants of the confederacy never reliev'd the camisars. 5. why there are no cowards found in the english service, but among their sea captains. 6. why the king of portugal did not take madrid, why the english did not take cadiz, and why the spaniards did not take gibraltar, viz. because the first were fools, the second knaves, and the last spaniards. 7. what became of all the silver taken at vigo. 8. who will be the next king of scotland. 9. if england should ever want a king, who would think it worth while to accept of it. 10. what specifick difference can be produc'd between a knave, a coward, and a traytor. abundance of these mysteries are hieroglyphically describ'd in this ample collection, and without doubt our great collection of annals, and historical observations, particularly the learned mr. walker, would make great improvements there. but to come nearer home, there, to my great amasement, i found several new tracts out of our own language, which i could hardly have imagin'd it possible should have reacht so far. as first, sundry transactions of our royal society about winds, and a valuable desertation of dr. b.....'s about wind in the brain. a discourse of poisons, by the learned dr. m..... with lunar notes upon it, wherein it appears that dr. c....d had more poison in his tongue, than all the adders the moon have in their teeth. nec non, or lawyers latin turn'd into lunar burlesque. the hyerogliphick was the queens mony tost in a blanket, dedicated to the attorney general, and five false latin councellors. mandamus, as it was acted at abb...ton assizes, by mr. so....r general, where the qu..n had her own so...r against her for a bad cause, and never a counsel for her in a good one. lunar reflections, being a list of about 2000 ridiculous errors in history, palpable falsities, and scandalous omissions in mr. collier's geographical dictionary; with a subsequent enquiry by way of appendix, into which are his own, and which he has ignorantly deduc'd from ancient authors. assassination and killing of kings, prov'd to be a church of england doctrin; humbly dedicated to the prince of wales, by mr. collier and mr. snat; wherein their absolving sir john friend and sir william parkins without repentance, and while they both own'd and justify'd the fact, is vindicated and defended. les bagatelles, or brom..ys travels into italy, a choice book, and by great accident preserv'd from the malitious design of the author, who diligently bought up the whole impression, for fear they should be seen, as a thing of which this ungrateful age was not worthy. killing no murther, being an account of the severe justice design'd to be inflicted on the barbarous murtherers of the honest constable at bow, but unhappily prevented by my lord n.....m being turn'd out of his office. de modo belli, or an account of the best method of making conquests and invasion a la mode de port st. mary, 3 volumes in 80. dedicated to sir hen. bell...s. king charles the first prov'd a t...t. by edward earl of clarendon, 3 vol. in fol. dedicated to the university of oxford. the bawdy poets, or new and accurate editions of catullus, propertius, and tibullus, being the maiden-head of the new printing press at cambridge, dedicated by the editor mr. ann...y to the university, and in consideration of which, and some disorders near casterton, the university thought him fit to represent them in p......t. alms no charity, or the skeleton of sir humphry mackworth's bill for relief of the poor: being an excellent new contrivance to find employment for all the poor in the nation, viz. by setting them at work, to make all the rest of the people as poor as themselves. synodicum superlativum, being sixteen large volumes of the vigorous proceedings of the english convocation, digested into years, one volume to every year. -wherein are several large lists of the heretical, atheistical, deistical and other pernitious errors which have been condemn'd in that venerable assembly, the various services done, and weighty matters dispatcht, for the honour of the english church, for sixteen years last past, with their formal proceedings against asgil, coward, toland and others, for reviving old antiquated errors in doctrine, and publishing them to the world as their own. new worlds in trade, being a vast collection out of the journals of the proceedings of the right honourable the commissioners of trade, with several eminent improvements in general negoce, vast schemes of business, and new discoveries of settlements and correspondences in forreign parts, for the honour and advantage of the english merchants, being 12 volumes in fol. and very scarce and valluable books. legal rebellion, or an argument proving that all sorts of insurrections of subjects against their princes, are lawful, and to be supported whenever they suit with our occasions, made good from the practice of france with the hungarians, the english with the camisars, the swede with the poles, the emperor with the subjects of naples, and all the princes of the world as they find occasion, a large volume in folio, with a poem upon the sacred right of kingly power. ignis fatuus or the occasional bill in minature, a farce, as it was acted by his excellency the lord gr...il's servants in carolina. running away the shortest way to victory, being a large dissertation, shewing to save the queens ships, is the best way to beat the french. the tookites, a poem upon the 134. a new tract upon trade, being a demonstration that to be always putting the people upon customary mourning, and wearing black upon every state occasion, is an excellent encouragement to trade, and a means to employ the poor. city gratitude, being a poem on the statue erected by the court of aldermen at the upper end of cheapside, to the immortal memory of king william. there were many more tracts to be found in this place; but these may suffice for a specimen, and to excite all men that would encrease their understandings in humane mysteries, to take a voyage to this enlightned country. where their memories, thinking faculties and penetration, will no question be so tackt and consolidated, that when they return, they all write memoirs of the place, and communicate to their country the advantages they have reapt by their voyage, according to the laudable example of their most humble servant, the man in the moon. the moon a full description and map of its principal physical features by thomas gwyn elger, f.r.a.s. director of the lunar section of the british astronomical association ex-president liverpool astronomical society "altri fiumi, altri laghi, altre campagne sono la su che non son qui tra noi, altri piani, altre valli, altre montagne." orlando furioso, canto xxxii. london george philip & son, 32 fleet street, e.c. liverpool: 45 to 51 south castle street 1895 preface this book and the accompanying map is chiefly intended for the use of lunar observers, but it is hoped it may be acceptable to many who, though they cannot strictly be thus described, take a general interest in astronomy. the increasing number of those who possess astronomical telescopes, and devote more or less of their leisure in following some particular line of research, is shown by the great success in recent years of societies, such as the british astronomical association with its several branches, the astronomical society of the pacific, and similar institutions in various parts of the world. these societies are not only doing much in popularising the sublimest of the sciences, but are the means of developing and organising the capabilities of their members by discouraging aimless and desultory observations, and by pointing out how individual effort may be utilised and made of permanent value in almost every department of astronomy. the work of the astronomer, like that of the votary of almost every other science, is becoming every year more and more specialised; and among its manifold subdivisions, the study of the physical features of the moon is undoubtedly increasing in popularity and importance. to those who are pursuing such observations, it is believed that this book will be a useful companion to the telescope, and convenient for reference. great care has been taken in the preparation of the map, which, so far as the positions of the various objects represented are concerned, is based on the last edition of beer and madler's chart, and on the more recent and much larger and elaborate map of schmidt; while as regards the shape and details of most of the formations, the author's drawings and a large number of photographs have been utilised. even on so small a scale as eighteen inches to the moon's diameter, more detail might have been inserted, but this, at the expense of distinctness, would have detracted from the value of the map for handy reference in the usually dim light of the observatory, without adding to its utility in other ways. every named formation is prominently shown; and most other features of interest, including the principal rill-systems, are represented, though, as regards these, no attempt is made to indicate all their manifold details and ramifications, which, to do effectually, would in very many instances require a map on a much larger scale than any that has yet appeared. the insertion of meridian lines and parallels of latitude at every ten degrees, and the substitution of names for reference numbers, will add to the usefulness of the map. with respect to the text, a large proportion of the objects in the catalogue and in the appendix have been observed and drawn by the author many times during the last thirty years, and described in _the observatory_ and other publications. he has had, besides, the advantage of consulting excellent sketches by mr w.h. maw, f.r.a.s., dr. sheldon, f.r.a.s., mr. a. mee, f.r.a.s., mr. g.p. hallowes, f.r.a.s., dr. smart, f.r.a.s., mr. t. gordon, f.r.a.s., mr. g.t. davis, herr brenner, herr krieger, mr. h. corder, and other members of the british astronomical association. through the courtesy of professor holden, director of the lick observatory, and m. prinz, of the royal observatory of brussels, many beautiful photographs and direct photographic enlargements have been available, as have also the exquisite heliogravures received by the author from dr. l. weinek, director of the imperial observatory of prague, and the admirable examples of the photographic work of mm. paul and prosper henry of the paris observatory, which are occasionally published in _knowledge_. the numerous representations of lunar objects which have appeared from time to time in that storehouse of astronomical information, _the english mechanic_, and the invaluable notes in "celestial objects for common telescopes," and in various periodicals, by the late rev. prebendary webb, to whom selenography and astronomy generally owe so much, have also been consulted. as a rule, all the more prominent and important features are described, though very frequently interesting details are referred to which, from their minuteness, could not be shown in the map. the measurements (given in round numbers) are derived in most instances from neison's (nevill) "moon," though occasionally those in the introduction to schmidt's chart are adopted. thomas gywn elger. bedford, 1895. contents introduction maria, or plains, termed "seas" ridges ring-mountains, craters, &c. walled plains mountain rings ring-plains craters crater cones craterlets, crater pits mountain ranges, isolated mountains, &c. clefts, or rills faults valleys bright ray-systems the moon's albedo, surface brightness, &c. temperature of the moon's surface lunar observation progress of selenography, lunar photography catalogue of lunar formations first quadrant- west longitude 90 deg. to 60 deg. west longitude 60 deg. to 40 deg. west longitude 40 deg. to 20 deg. west longitude 20 deg. to 0 deg. second quadrant- east longitude 0 deg. to 20 deg. east longitude 20 deg. to 40 deg. east longitude 40 deg. to 60 deg. east longitude 60 deg. to 90 deg. third quadrant- east longitude 0 deg. to 20 deg. east longitude 20 deg. to 40 deg. east longitude 40 deg. to 60 deg. east longitude 60 deg. to 90 deg. fourth quadrant- west longitude 90 deg. to 60 deg. west longitude 60 deg. to 40 deg. west longitude 40 deg. to 20 deg. west longitude 20 deg. to 0 deg. map of the moon first quadrant second quadrant third quadrant fourth quadrant appendix description of map list of the maria, or grey plains, termed "seas," &c. list of some of the most prominent mountain ranges, promontories, isolated mountains, and remarkable hills list of the principal ray-systems, light-surrounded craters, and light spots position of the lunar terminator lunar elements alphabetical list of formations introduction we know, both by tradition and published records, that from the earliest times the faint grey and light spots which diversify the face of our satellite excited the wonder and stimulated the curiosity of mankind, giving rise to suppositions more or less crude and erroneous as to their actual nature and significance. it is true that anaxagoras, five centuries before our era, and probably other philosophers preceding him, --certainly plutarch at a much later date--taught that these delicate markings and differences of tint, obvious to every one with normal vision, point to the existence of hills and valleys on her surface; the latter maintaining that the irregularities of outline presented by the "terminator," or line of demarcation between the illumined and unillumined portion of her spherical superficies, are due to mountains and their shadows; but more than fifteen centuries elapsed before the truth of this sagacious conjecture was unquestionably demonstrated. selenography, as a branch of observational astronomy, dates from the spring of 1609, when galileo directed his "optic tube" to the moon, and in the following year, in the _sidereus nuncius_, or "the intelligencer of the stars," gave to an astonished and incredulous world an account of the unsuspected marvels it revealed. in this remarkable little book we have the first attempt to represent the telescopic aspect of the moon's visible surface in the five rude woodcuts representing the curious features he perceived thereon, whose form and arrangement, he tells us, reminded him of the "ocelli" on the feathers of a peacock's tail,--a quaint but not altogether inappropriate simile to describe the appearance of groups of the larger ring-mountains partially illuminated by the sun, when seen in a small telescope. the bright and dusky areas, so obvious to the unaided sight, were found by galileo to be due to a very manifest difference in the character of the lunar surface, a large portion of the northern hemisphere, and no inconsiderable part of the south-eastern quadrant, being seen to consist of large grey monotonous tracts, often bordered by lofty mountains, while the remainder of the superficies was much more conspicuously brilliant, and, moreover, included by far the greater number of those curious ringmountains and other extraordinary features whose remarkable aspect and peculiar arrangement first attracted his attention. struck by the analogy which these contrasted regions present to the land and water surfaces of our globe, he suspected that the former are represented on the moon by the brighter and more rugged, and the latter by the smoother and more level areas; a view, however, which kepler more distinctly formulated in the dictum, "do maculas esse maria, do lucidas esse terras." besides making a rude lunar chart, he estimated the heights of some of the ringmountains by measuring the distance from the terminator of their bright summit peaks, when they were either coming into or passing out of sunlight; and though his method was incapable of accuracy, and his results consequently untrustworthy, it served to demonstrate the immense altitude of these circumvallations, and to show how greatly they exceed any mountains on the earth if the relative dimensions of the two globes are taken into consideration. before the close of the century when selenography first became possible, hevel of dantzig, scheiner, langrenus (cosmographer to the king of spain), riccioli, the jesuit astronomer of bologna, and dominic cassini, the celebrated french astronomer, greatly extended the knowledge of the moon's surface, and published drawings of various phases, and charts, which, though very rude and incomplete, were a clear advance upon what galileo, with his inferior optical means, had been able to accomplish. langrenus, and after him hevel, gave distinctive names to the various formations, mainly derived from terrestrial physical features, for which riccioli subsequently substituted those of philosophers, mathematicians, and other celebrities; and cassini determined by actual measurement the relative position of many of the principal objects on the disc, thus laying the foundation of an accurate system of lunar topography; while the labours of t. mayer and schroter in the last century, and of lohrmann, madler, neison (nevill), schmidt, and other observers in the present, have been mainly devoted to the study of the minuter detail of the moon and its physical characteristics. as was manifest to the earliest telescopic observers, its visible surface is clearly divisible into strongly contrasted areas, differing both in colour and structural character. somewhat less than half of what we see of it consists of comparatively level dark tracts, some of them very many thousands of square miles in extent, the monotony of whose dusky superficies is often unrelieved for great distances by any prominent object; while the remainder, everywhere manifestly brighter, is not only more rugged and uneven, but is covered to a much greater extent with numbers of quasi-circular formations, differing widely in size, classed as walled-plains, ring-plains, craters, craterlets, crater-cones, &c. (the latter bearing a great outward resemblance to some terrestrial volcanoes), and mountain ranges of vast proportions, isolated hills, and other features. though nothing resembling sheets of water, either of small or large extent, have ever been detected on the surface, the superficial resemblance, in small telescopes, of the large grey tracts to the appearance which we may suppose our terrestrial lakes and oceans would present to an observer on the moon, naturally induced the early selenographers to term them maria, or "seas"--a convenient name, which is still maintained, without, however, implying that these areas, as we now see them, are, or ever were, covered with water. some, however, regard them as old sea-beds, from which every trace of fluid, owing to some unknown cause, has vanished, and that the folds and wrinkles, the ridges, swellings, and other peculiarities of structure observed upon them, represent some of the results of alluvial action. it is, of course, possible, and even probable, that at a remote epoch in the evolution of our satellite these lower regions were occupied by water, but that their surface, as it now appears, is actually this old sea-bottom, seems to be less likely than that it represents the consolidated crust of some semifluid or viscous material (possibly of a basaltic type) which has welled forth from orifices or rents communicating with the interior, and overspread and partially filled up these immense hollows, more or less overwhelming and destroying many formations which stood upon them before this catastrophe took place. though this, like many other speculations of a similar character relating to lunar "geology," must remain, at least for the present, as a mere hypothesis; indications of this partial destruction by some agency or other is almost everywhere apparent in those formations which border the so-called seas, as, for example, fracastorius in the mare nectaris; le monnier in the mare serenitatis; pitatus and hesiodus, on the south side of the mare nubium; doppelmayer in the mare humorum, and in many other situations; while no observer can fail to notice innumerable instances of more or less complete obliteration and ruin among objects within these areas, in the form of obscure rings (mere scars on the surface), dusky craters, circular arrangements of isolated hills, reminding one of the monoliths of a druidical temple; all of which we are justified in concluding were at one time formations of a normal type. it has been held by some selenologists --and schmidt appears to be of the number,--that, seeing the comparative scarcity of large ring-plains and other massive formations on the maria, these grey plains represent, as it were, a picture of the primitive surface of the moon before it was disturbed by the operations of interior forces; but this view affords no explanation of the undoubted existence of the relics of an earlier lunar world beneath their smooth superficies. maria.--leaving, however, these considerations for a more particular description of the maria, it is clearly impossible, in referring to their level relatively to the higher and brighter land surface of the moon, to appeal to any hypsometrical standard. all that is known in this respect is, that they are invariably lower than the latter, and that some sink to a greater depth than others, or, in other words, that they do not all form a part of the same sphere. though they are more or less of a greyish-slaty hue--some of them approximating very closely to that of the pigment known as "payne's grey"--the tone, of course, depends upon the angle at which the solar rays impinge on that particular portion of the surface under observation. speaking generally, they are, as would follow from optical considerations, conspicuously darker when viewed near the terminator, or when the sun is either rising or setting upon them, than under a more vertical angle of illumination. but even when it is possible to compare their colour by eye-estimation under similar solar altitudes, it is found that not only are some of the maria, as a whole, notably darker than others, but nearly all of them exhibit _local_ inequalities of hue, which, under good atmospheric and instrumental conditions, are especially remarkable. under such circumstances i have frequently seen the surface, in many places covered with minute glittering points of light, shining with a silvery lustre, intermingled with darker spots and a network of streaks far too delicate and ethereal to represent in a drawing. in addition to these contrasts and differences in the sombre tone of these extended plains, many observers have remarked traces of a yellow or green tint on the surface of some of them. for example, the mare imbrium and the mare frigoris appear under certain conditions to be of a dirty yellow-green hue, the central parts of the mare humorum dusky green, and part of the mare serenitatis and the mare crisium light green, while the palus somnii has been noted a golden-brown yellow. to these may be added the district round taruntius in the mare foecunditatis, and portions of other regions referred to in the catalogue, where i have remarked a very decided sepia colour under a low sun. it has been attempted to account for these phenomena by supposing the existence of some kind of vegetation; but as this involves the presence of an atmosphere, the idea hardly finds favour at the present time, though perhaps the possibility of plant growth in the low-lying districts, where a gaseous medium may prevail, is not altogether so chimerical a notion as to be unworthy of consideration. nasmyth and others suggest that these tints may be due to broad expanses of coloured volcanic material, an hypothesis which, if we believe the maria to be overspread with such matter, and knowing how it varies in colour in terrestrial volcanic regions, is more probable than the first. anyway, whether we consider these appearances to be objective, or, after all, only due to purely physiological causes, they undoubtedly merit closer study and investigation than they have hitherto received. there are twenty-three of these dusky areas which have received distinctive names; seventeen of them are wholly, or in great part, confined to the northern, and to the south-eastern quarter of the southern hemisphere--the south-western quadrant being to a great extent devoid of them. by far the largest is the vast oceanus procellarum, extending from a high northern latitude to beyond latitude 10 deg. in the south-eastern quadrant, and, according to schmidt, with its bays and inflections, occupying an area of nearly two million square miles, or more than that of all the remaining maria put together. next in order of size come the mare nubium, of about one-fifth the superficies, covering a large portion of the south-eastern quadrant, and extending considerably north of the equator, and the mare imbrium, wholly confined to the northeastern quadrant, and including an area of about 340,000 square miles. these are by far the largest lunar "seas." the mare foecunditatis, in the western hemisphere, the greater part of it lying in the southwestern quadrant, is scarcely half so big as the mare imbrium; while the maria serenitatis and tranquilitatis, about equal in area (the former situated wholly north of the equator, and the latter only partially extending south of it), are still smaller. the arctic mare frigoris, some 100,000 square miles in extent, is the only remaining large sea,--the rest, such as the mare vaporum, the sinus medii, the mare crisium, the mare humorum, and the mare humboldtianum, are of comparatively small dimensions, the mare crisium not greatly exceeding 70,000 square miles, the mare humorum (about the size of england) 50,000 square miles, while the mare humboldtianum, according to schmidt, includes only about 42,000 square miles, an area which is approached by some formations not classed with the maria. this distinction, speaking generally, prevails among the maria,--those of larger size, such as the oceanus procellarum, the mare nubium, and the mare foecunditatis, are less definitely enclosed, and, like terrestrial oceans, communicate with one another; while their borders, or, if the term may be allowed, their coast-line, is often comparatively low and ill-defined, exhibiting many inlets and irregularities in outline. others, again, of considerable area, as, for example, the mare serenitatis and the mare imbrium, are bounded more or less completely by curved borders, consisting of towering mountain ranges, descending with a very steep escarpment to their surface: thus in form and other characteristics they resemble immense wall-surrounded plains. among the best examples of enclosed maria is the mare crisium, which is considered by neison to be the deepest of all, and the mare humboldtianum. though these great plains are described as level, this term must only be taken in a comparative sense. no one who observes them when their surface is thrown into relief by the oblique rays of the rising or setting sun can fail to remark many low bubble-shaped swellings with gently rounded outlines, shallow trough-like hollows, and, in the majority of them, long sinuous ridges, either running concentrically with their borders or traversing them from side to side. though none of these features are of any great altitude or depth, some of the ridges are as much as 700 feet in height, and probably in many instances the other elevations often rise to 150 feet or more above the low-lying parts of the plains on which they stand. hence we may say that the maria are only level in the sense that many districts in the english midland counties are level, and not that their surface is absolutely flat. the same may be said as to their apparent smoothness, which, as is evident when they are viewed close to the terminator, is an expression needing qualification, for under these conditions they often appear to be covered with wrinkles, flexures, and little asperities, which, to be visible at all, must be of considerable size. in fact, were it possible to examine them from a distance of a few miles, instead of from a standpoint which, under the most favourable circumstances, cannot be reckoned at less than 300, and this through an interposed aerial medium always more or less perturbed, they would probably be described as rugged and uneven, as some modern lava sheets. ridges.--among the maria which exhibit the most remarkable arrangement of ridges is the mare humorum, in the south-eastern quadrant. here, if it be observed under a rising sun, a number of these objects will be seen extending from the region north of the ring-mountain vitello in long undulating lines, roughly concentric with the western border of the "sea," and gradually diminishing in altitude as they spread out, with many ramifications, to a distance of 200 miles or more towards the north. at this stage of illumination they are strikingly beautiful in a good telescope, reminding one of the ripple-marks left by the tide on a soft sandy beach. like most other objects of their class, they are very evanescent, gradually disappearing as the sun rises higher in the lunar firmament, and ultimately leaving nothing to indicate their presence beyond here and there a ghostly streak or vein of a somewhat lighter hue than that of the neighbouring surface. the mare nectaris, again, in the south-western quadrant, presents some fine examples of concentric ridges, which are seen to the best advantage when the morning sun is rising on rosse, a prominent crater north of fracastorius. this "sea" is evidently concave in cross-section, the central portion being considerably lower than the margin, and these ridges appear to mark the successive stages of the change of level from the coast-line to the centre. they suggest the "caving in" of the surface, similar to that observed on a frozen pond or river, where the "cat's ice" at the edge, through the sinking of the water beneath, is rent and tilted to a greater or less degree. the mare serenitatis and the mare imbrium, in the northern hemisphere, are also remarkable for the number of these peculiar features. they are very plentifully distributed round the margin and in other parts of the former, which includes besides one of the longest and loftiest on the moon's visible surface--the great serpentine ridge, first drawn and described nearly a hundred years ago by the famous selenographer, schroter of lilienthal. originating at a little crater under the northeast wall of great ring-plain posidonius, it follows a winding course across the mare toward the south, throwing out many minor branches, and ultimately dies out under a great rocky promontory--the promontory acherusia, at the western termination of the haemus range. a comparatively low power serves to show the curious structural character of this immense ridge, which appears to consist of a number of corrugations and folds massed together, rising in places, according to neison, to a height of 700 feet and more. the mare imbrium also affords an example of a ridge, which, though shorter, is nearly as prominent, in that which runs from the bright little ring-plain piazzi smyth towards the west side of plato. the region round timocharis and other quarters of the mare are likewise traversed by very noteworthy features of a similar class. the oceanus procellarum also presents good instances of ridges in the marvellous ramifications round encke, kepler, and marius, and in the region north of aristarchus and herodotus. perhaps the most perfect examples of surface swellings are those in the mare tranquilitatis, a little east of the ring-plain arago, where there are two nearly equal circular mounds, at least ten miles in diameter, resembling tumuli seen from above. similar, but more irregular, objects of a like kind are very plentiful in many other quarters. it is a suggestive peculiarity of many of the lunar ridges, both on the maria and elsewhere, that they are very generally found in association with craters of every size. illustrations of this fact occur almost everywhere. frequently small craters are found on the summits of these elevations, but more often on their flanks and near their base. where a ridge suddenly changes its direction, a crater of some prominence generally marks the point, often forming a node, or crossing-place of other ridges, which thus appear to radiate from it as a centre. sometimes they intrude within the smaller ring-mountains, passing through gaps in their walls as, for example, in the cases of madler, lassell, &c. various hypotheses have been advanced to account for them. the late professor phillips, the geologist, who devoted much attention to the telescopic examination of the physical features of the moon, compared the lunar ridges to long, low, undulating mounds, of somewhat doubtful origin, called "kames" in scotland, and "eskers" in ireland, where on the low central plain they are commonly found in the form of extended banks (mainly of gravel), with more or less steep sides, rising to heights of from 20 to 70 feet. they are sometimes only a few yards wide at the top, while in other places they spread out into large humps, having circular or oval cavities on their summits, 50 or 60 yards across, and as much as 40 feet deep. like the lunar ridges, they throw out branches and exhibit many breaches of continuity. by some geologists they are supposed to represent old submarine banks formed by tidal currents, like harbour bars, and by others to be glacial deposits; in either case, to be either directly or indirectly due to alluvial action. their outward resemblance to some of the ridges on the moon is unquestionable; and if we could believe that the maria, as we now see them, are dried-up sea-beds, it might be concluded that these ridges had a similar origin; but their close connection with centres of volcanic disturbance, and the numbers of little craters on or near their track, point to the supposition that they consist rather of material exuded from long-extending fissures in the crust of the "seas," and in other surfaces where they are superimposed. this conjecture is rendered still more probable by the fact that we sometimes find the direction of clefts (which are undoubted surface cracks) prolonged in the form of long narrow ridges or of rows of little hillocks. we are, however, not bound to assume that all the manifold corrugations observed on the lunar plains are due to one and the same cause; indeed, it is clear that some are merely the outward indications of sudden drops in the surface, as in the case of the ridges round the western margin of the mare nectaris, and in other situations, where subsidence is manifested by features assuming the outward aspect of ordinary ridges, but which are in reality of a very different structural character. the maria, like almost every other part of the visible surface, abound in craters of a minute type, which are scattered here and there without any apparent law or ascertained principle of arrangement. seeing how imperfect is our acquaintance with even the larger objects of this class, it is rash to insist on the antiquity or permanence of such diminutive objects, or to dogmatise about the cessation of lunar activity in connection with features where the volcanic history of our globe, if it is of any value as an analogue, teaches us it is most likely to prevail. most observers will agree with schmidt, that observations and drawings of objects on the sombre depressed plains of the moon are easier and pleasanter to make than on the dazzling highlands, and that the lunar "sea" is to the working selenographer like an oasis in the desert to the traveller--a relief in this case, however, not to an exhausted body, but to a weary eye. ring-mountains, craters, &c.--it is these objects, in their almost endless variety and bewildering number, which, more than any others, give to our satellite that marvellous appearance in the telescope which since the days of galileo has never failed to evoke the astonishment of the beholder. however familiar we may be with the lunar surface, we can never gaze on these extraordinary formations, whether massed together apparently in inextricable confusion, or standing in isolated grandeur, like copernicus, on the grey surface of the plains, without experiencing, in a scarcely diminished degree, the same sensation of wonder and admiration with which they were beheld for the first time. although the attempt to bring all these _bizarre_ forms under a rigid scheme of classification has not been wholly successful, their structural peculiarities, the hypsometrical relation between their interior and the surrounding district, their size, and the character of their circumvallation, the dimensions of their cavernous opening as compared with that of the more or less truncated conical mass of matter surrounding it, all afford a basis for grouping them under distinctive titles, that are not only convenient to the selenographer, but which undoubtedly represent, as a rule, actual diversities in their origin and physical character. these distinguishing titles, as adopted by schroter, lohrmann, and madler, and accepted by subsequent observers, are walled-plains, mountain rings, ring-plains, craters, crater-cones, craterlets, crater-pits, depressions. walled-plains.--these formations, approximating more or less to the circular form, though frequently deviating considerably from it, are among the largest enclosures on the moon. they vary from upwards of 150 to 60 miles or under in diameter, and are often encircled by a complex rampart of considerable breadth, rising in some instances to a height of 12,000 feet or more above the enclosed plain. this rampart is rarely continuous, but is generally interrupted by gaps, crossed by transverse valleys and passes, and broken by more recent craters and depressions. as a rule, the area within the circumvallation (usually termed "the floor") is only slightly, if at all, lower than the region outside: it is very generally of a dusky hue, similar to that of the grey plains or maria, and, like them, is usually variegated by the presence of hills, ridges, and craters, and is sometimes traversed by delicate furrows, termed clefts or rills. _ptolemaeus_, in the third quadrant, and not far removed from the centre of the disc, may be taken as a typical example of the class. here we have a vast plain, 115 miles from side to side, encircled by a massive but much broken wall, which at one peak towers more than 9000 feet above a level floor, which includes details of a very remarkable character. the adjoining _alphonsus_ is another, but somewhat smaller, object of the same type, as are also _albategnius_, and _arzachel_; and _plato_, in a high northern latitude, with its noble many-peaked rampart and its variable steel-grey interior. _grimaldi_, near the eastern limb (perhaps the darkest area on the moon), _schickard_, nearly as big, on the southeastern limb, and _bailly_, larger than either (still farther south in the same quadrant), although they approach some of the smaller "seas" in size, are placed in the same category. the conspicuous central mountain, so frequently associated with other types of ringed enclosures, is by no means invariably found within the walled-plains; though, as in the case of _petavius_, _langrenus_, _gassendi_, and several other noteworthy examples, it is very prominently displayed. the progress of sunrise on all these objects affords a magnificent spectacle. very often when the rays impinge on their apparently level floor at an angle of from 1 deg. to 2 deg., it is seen to be coarse, rough grained, and covered with minute elevations, although an hour or so afterwards it appears as smooth as glass. although it is a distinguishing characteristic that there is no great difference in level between the outside and the inside of a walled-plain, there are some very interesting exceptions to this rule, which are termed by schmidt "transitional forms." among these he places some of the most colossal formations, such as _clavius_, _maurolycus_, _stofler_, _janssen_, and _longomontanus_. the first, which may be taken as representative of the class (well known to observers as one of the grandest of lunar objects), has a deeply sunken floor, fringed with mountains rising some 12,000 feet above it, though they scarcely stand a fourth of this height above the plain on the west, which ascends with a very gentle gradient to the summit of the wall. hence the contrast between the shadows of the peaks of the western wall on the floor at sunrise, and of the same peaks on the region west of the border at sunset is very marked. in _gassendi_, _phocylides_, and _wargentin_ we have similar notable departures from the normal type. the floor of the former on the north stands 2000 feet _above_ the mare humorum. in _phocylides_, probably through "faulting," one portion of the interior suddenly sinks to a considerable depth below the remainder; while the very abnormal _wargentin_ has such an elevated floor, that, when viewed under favourable conditions, it reminds one of a shallow oval tray or dish filled with fluid to the point of overflowing. these examples, very far from being exhaustive, will be sufficient to show that the walled-plains exhibit noteworthy differences in other respects than size, height of rampart, or included detail. still another peculiarity, confined, it is believed, to a very few, may be mentioned, viz., convexity of floor, prominently displayed in petavius, mersenius, and hevel. mountain rings.--these objects, usually encircled by a low and broken border, seldom more than a few hundred feet in height, are closely allied to the walled-plains. they are more frequently found on the maria than elsewhere. in some cases the ring consists of isolated dark sections, with here and there a bright mass of rock interposed; in others, of low curvilinear ridges, forming a more or less complete circumvallation. they vary in size from 60 or 70 miles to 15 miles and less. the great ring north of flamsteed, 60 miles across, is a notable example; another lies west of it on the north of wichmann; while a third will be found southeast of encke;--indeed, the mare procellarum abounds in objects of this type. the curious formation on the mare imbrium immediately south of plato (called "newton" by schroter), may be placed in this category, as may also many of the low dusky rings of much smaller dimensions found in many quarters of the maria. as has been stated elsewhere, these features have the appearance of having once been formations of a much more prominent and important character, which have suffered destruction, more or less complete, through being partially overwhelmed by the material of the "seas." ring-plains.--these are by far the most numerous of the ramparted enclosures of the moon, and though it is occasionally difficult to decide in which class, walled-plain or ring-plain, some objects should be placed, yet, as a rule, the difference between the structural character of the two is abundantly obvious. the ring-plains vary in diameter from sixty to less than ten miles, and are far more regular in outline than the walled-plains. their ramparts, often very massive, are more continuous, and fall with a steep declivity to a floor almost always greatly depressed below the outside region. the inner slopes generally display subordinate heights, called terraces, arranged more or less concentrically, and often extending in successive stages nearly down to the interior foot of the wall. with the intervening valleys, these features are very striking objects when viewed under good conditions with high powers. in some cases they may possibly represent the effects of the slipping of the upper portions of the wall, from a want of cohesiveness in the material of which it is composed; but this hardly explains why the highest terrace often stands nearly as high as the rampart. nasmyth, in his eruption hypothesis, suggests that in such a case there may have been two eruptions from the same vent; one powerful, which formed the exterior circle, and a second, rather less powerful, which has formed the interior circle. ultimately, however, coming to the conclusion that terraces, as a rule, are not due to any such freaks of the eruption, he ascribes them to landslips. in any case, we can hardly imagine that material standing at such a high angle of inclination as that forming the summit ridge of many of the ring-plains would not frequently slide down in great masses, and thus form irregular plateaus on the lower and flatter portions of the slope; but this fails to explain the symmetrical arrangement of the concentric terraces and intermediate valleys. the inner declivity of the north-eastern wall of plato exhibits what to all appearance is an undoubted landslip, as does also that of hercules on the northern side, and numerous other cases might be adduced; but in all of them the appearance is very different from that of the true terrace. the _glacis_, or outer slope of a ring-plain, is invariably of a much gentler inclination than that which characterises the inner declivity: while the latter very frequently descends at an angle varying from 60 deg. to 50 deg. at the crest of the wall, to from 10 deg. to 2 deg. at the bottom, where it meets the floor; the former extends for a great distance at a very flat gradient before it sinks to the general level of the surrounding country. it differs likewise from the inner descent, in the fact that, though often traversed by valleys, intersected by deep gullies and irregular depressions, and covered with humpy excrescences and craters, it is only rarely that any features comparable to the terraces, usually present on the inner escarpment, can be traced upon it. elongated depressions of irregular outline, and very variable in size and depth, are frequently found on the outer slopes of the border. some of them consist of great elliptical or sub-circular cavities, displaying many expansions and contractions, called "pockets," and suggesting the idea that they were originally distinct cup-shaped hollows, which from some cause or other have coalesced like rows of inosculating craters. while many of these features are so deep that they remain visible for a considerable time under a low sun, others, though perhaps of greater extent, vanish in an hour or so. as in the case of the walled-plains, the ramparts of the ring-plains exhibit gaps and are broken by craters and depressions, but to a much less extent. often the lofty crest, surmounted by _aiguilles_ or by blunter peaks, towering in some cases to nearly double its altitude above the interior, is perfectly continuous (like copernicus), or only interrupted by narrow passes. it is a suggestive circumstance that gaps, other than valleys, are almost invariably found either in the north or south walls, or in both, and seldom in other positions. the buttress, or long-extending spur, is a feature frequently associated with the ringplain rampart, as are also numbers of what, for the lack of a better name, must be termed little hillocks, which generally radiate in long rows from the outer foot of the slope. the spurs usually abut on the wall, and, either spreading out like the sticks of a fan or running roughly parallel to each other, extend for long distances, gradually diminishing in height and width till they die out on the surrounding surface. they have been compared to lava streams, which those round aristillus, aristoteles, and on the flank of clavius _a_, certainly somewhat resemble, though, in the two former instances, they are rather comparable to immense ridges. in addition to the above, the spurs radiating from the south-eastern rampart of condamine and the long undulating ridges and rows of hillocks running from cyrillus over the eastern _glacis_ of theophilus, may be named as very interesting examples. neison and some other selenographers place in a distinct class certain of the smaller ring-plains which usually have a steeper outer slope, and are supposed to present clearer indications of a volcanic origin than the ring-plains, terming them "crater-plains." craters.--under this generic name is placed a vast number of formations exhibiting a great difference in size and outward characteristics, though generally (under moderate magnification) of a circular or sub-circular shape. their diameter varies from 15 miles or more to 3, and even less, and their flanks rise much more steeply to the summit, which is seldom very lofty, than those of the ring-plains, and fall more gradually to the floor. there is no portion of the moon in which they do not abound, whether it be on the ramparts, floors, and outer slopes of walled and ring plains, the summits and escarpments of mountain ranges, amid the intricacies of the highlands, or on the grey surface of the maria. in many instances they have a brighter and newer aspect than the larger formations, often being the most brilliant points on their walls, when they are found in this position. very frequently too they are not only very bright themselves, but stand on bright areas, whose borders are generally concentric with them, which shine with a glistening lustre, and form a kind of halo of light around them. euclides and bessarion a, and the craters east of landsberg, are especially interesting examples. it seems not improbable that these areas may represent deposits formed by some kind of matter ejected from the craters, but whether of ancient or modern date, it is, of course, impossible to determine. future observers will perhaps be in a better position to decide the question without cavil, if such eruptions should again take place. like the larger enclosures, these smaller objects frequently encroach upon each other-crater-ring overlapping crater-ring, as in the case of thebit, where a large crater, which has interfered with the continuity of the east wall, has, in its turn, been disturbed by a smaller crater on its own east wall. the craters in many cases, possibly in the majority if we could detect them, have central mountains, some of them being excellent tests for telescopic definition--as, for example, the central peaks of hortensius, bessarion, and that of the small crater just mentioned on the east wall of thebit a. a tendency to a linear arrangement is often displayed, especially among the smaller class, as is also their occurrence in pairs. crater-cones.--these objects, plentifully distributed on the lunar surface, are especially interesting from their outward resemblance to the parasitic cones found on the flanks of terrestrial volcanoes (etna, for instance). in the larger examples it is occasionally possible to see that the interiors are either inverted cones without a floor, or cup-shaped depressions on the summit of the object. frequently, however, they are so small that the orifice can only be detected under oblique illumination. under a high sun they generally appear as white spots, more or less illdefined, as on the floors of archimedes, fracastorius, plato, and many other formations, which include a great number, all of which are probably crater cones, although only a few have been seen as such. it is a significant fact that in these situations they are always found to be closely associated with the light streaks which traverse the interior of the formations, standing either on their surface or close to their edges. the instrumental and meteorological requirements necessary for a successful scrutiny of the smallest type of these features, are beyond the reach of the ordinary observer in this country, as they demand direct observation in large telescopes under the best atmospheric conditions. some years ago dr. klein of cologne called attention to some very interesting types of crater-cones, which may be found on certain dark or smoky-grey areas on the moon. these, he considers, may probably represent active volcanic vents, and urges that they should be diligently examined and watched by observers who possess telescopes adequate to the task. the most noteworthy examples of these objects are in the following positions:--(1) west of a prominent ridge running from beaumont to the west side of theophilus, and about midway between these formations; (2) in the mare vaporum, south of hyginus; (3) on the floor of werner, near the foot of the north wall; (4) under the east wall of alphonsus, on the dusky patch in the interior; (5) on the south side of the floor of atlas. i have frequently described elsewhere with considerable detail the telescopic appearance of these features under various phases, and have pointed out that though large apertures and high powers are needed to see these cones to advantage, the dusky areas, easily traced on photograms, might be usefully studied by observers with smaller instruments, as if they represent the _ejecta_ from the crater-cones which stand upon them, changes in their form and extent could very possibly be detected. in addition to those already referred to, a number of mysterious dark spots were discovered by schmidt in the dusky region about midway between copernicus and gambart, which klein describes as perforated like a sieve with minute craters. a short distance south-west of copernicus stands a bright crater-cone surrounded by a grey nimbus, which may be classed with these objects. it is well seen under a high light, as indeed is the case with most of these features. craterlets, crater-pits.--to a great extent the former term is needless and misleading, as the so-called craters merge by imperceptible gradations into very minute objects, as small as half a mile in diameter, and most probably, if we could more accurately estimate their size, still less. the crater-pit, however, has well-marked peculiarities which distinguish it from all other types, such as the absence of a distinguishable rim and extreme shallowness. they appear to be most numerous on the high-level plains and plateaus in the south-western quadrant, and may be counted by hundreds under good atmospheric conditions on the outer slopes of walter, clavius, and other large enclosures. in these positions they are often so closely aggregated that, as nasmyth remarks, they remind one of an accumulation of froth. even in an 8 1/2 inch reflector i have frequently seen the outer slope of the large ring-plain on the north-western side of vendelinus, so perforated with these objects that it resembled pumice or vesicular lava, many of the little holes being evidently not circular, but square shaped and very irregular. the interior of stadius and the region outside abounds in these minute features, but the well-known crater-row between this formation and copernicus seems rather to consist of a number of inosculating crater-cones, as they stand very evidently on a raised bank of some altitude. mountain ranges, isolated mountains, &c.--the more massive and extended mountain ranges of the moon are found in the northern hemisphere, and (what is significant) in that portion of it which exhibits few indications of other superficial disturbances. the most prominently developed systems, the _alps_, the _caucasus_, and the _apennines_, forming a mighty western rampart to the mare imbrium and giving it all the appearance of a vast walled plain, present few points of resemblance to any terrestrial chain. the former include many hundred peaks, among which, mont blanc rises to a height of 12,000 feet, and a second, some distance west of plato, to nearly as great an altitude; while others, ranging from 5000 to 8000 feet, are common. they extend in a south-west direction from plato to the caucasus, terminating somewhat abruptly, a little west of the central meridian, in about n. lat. 42 deg. one of the most interesting features associated with this range is the so-called great alpine valley, which cuts through it west of plato. the _caucasus_ consist of a massive wedge-shaped mountain land, projecting southwards, and partially dividing the mare imbrium from the mare serenitatis, both of which they flank. though without peaks so lofty as those pertaining to the alps, there is one, immediately east of the ring-plain calippus, which, towering to 19,000 feet, surpasses any of which the latter system can boast. the _apennines_, however, are by far the most magnificent range on the visible surface, including as they do some 3000 peaks, and extending in an almost continuous curve of more than 400 miles in length from mount hadley, on the north, to the fine ring-plain eratosthenes, which forms a fitting termination, on the south. the great headland mount hadley rises more than 15,000 feet, while a neighbouring promontory on the south-east of it is fully 14,000 feet, and another, close by, is still higher above the mare. mount huygens, again, in n. lat. 20 deg., and the square-shaped mass mount wolf, near the southern end of the chain, include peaks standing 18,000 and 12,000 feet respectively above the plain, to which their flanks descend with a steep declivity. the counterscarp of the apennines, in places 160 miles in width from east to west, runs down to the mare vaporum with a comparatively gentle inclination. it is everywhere traversed by winding valleys of a very intricate type, all trending towards the south-west, and includes some bright craters and mountain-rings. the _carpathians_, forming in part the southern border of the mare imbrium, extend for a length of more than 180 miles eastward of e., long. 16 deg., and, embracing the ring-plain gaylussac, terminate west of mayer. they present a less definite front to the mare than the apennines, and are broken up and divided by irregular valleys and gaps; their loftiest peak, situated on a very projecting promontory north-west of mayer, rising to a height of 7000 feet. notwithstanding their comparatively low altitude, the region they occupy forms a fine telescopic picture at lunar sunrise. the _sinus iridum highlands_, bordering the beautiful bay on the north-east side of the mare imbrium, rank among the loftiest and most intricate systems on the moon, and, like the apennines, present a steep face to the grey plain from which they rise, though differing from them in other respects. they include many high peaks, the loftiest, in the neighbourhood of the ringplain sharp, rising 15,000 feet. there are probably some still higher mountains in the vicinity, but the difficulties attending their measurement render it impossible to determine their altitude with any approach to accuracy. _the taurus mountains_ extend from the west side of the mare serenitatis, near le monnier and littrow, in a north-westerly direction towards geminus and berselius, bordering the west side of the lacus somniorum. they are a far less remarkable system than any of the preceding, and consist rather of a wild irregular mountain region than a range. in the neighbourhood of berselius are some peaks which, according to neison, cannot be less than 10,000 feet in height. on the north side of the mare imbrium, east of plato, there is a beautiful narrow range of bright outlying heights, called the _teneriffe mountains_, which include many isolated objects of considerable altitude, one of the loftiest rising about 8000 feet. farther towards the east lies another group of a very similar character, called the _straight range_, from its linear regularity. it extends from west to east for a distance of about 60 miles, being a few miles shorter than the last, and includes a peak of 6000 feet. _the harbinger mountains_.--a remarkable group, north-west of aristarchus, including some peaks as high as 7000 feet, and other details noticed in the catalogue. the above comprise all the mountain ranges in the northern hemisphere of any prominence, or which have received distinctive names, except the _hercynian mountains_, on the north-east limb, east of the walled plain otto struve. these are too near the edge to be well observed, but, from what can be seen of them, they appear to abound in lofty peaks, and to bear more resemblance to a terrestrial chain than any which have yet been referred to. the mountain systems of the southern hemisphere, except the ranges visible on the limb, are far less imposing and remarkable than those just described. the _pyrenees_, on the western side of the mare nectaris, extend in a meridional direction for nearly 190 miles, and include a peak east of guttemberg of nearly 12,000 feet, and are traversed in many places by fine valleys. _the altai mountains_ form a magnificent chain, 275 miles in length, commencing on the outer eastern slope of piccolomini, and following a tolerably direct north-east course, with a few minor bendings, to the west side of fermat, where they turn more towards the north, ultimately terminating about midway between tacitus and catherina. the region situated on the south-east is a great table-land, without any prominent features, rising gently towards the mountains, which shelve steeply down to an equally barren expanse on the north-west, to which they present a lofty face, having an average altitude of about 6000 feet. the loftiest peak, over 13,000 feet, rises west of fermat. _the riphaean mountains_, a remarkably bright group, occupying an isolated position in the mare procellarum south of landsberg, and extending for more than 100 miles in a meridional direction. they are most closely aggregated at a point nearly due west of euclides, from which they throw off long-branching arms to the north and south, those on the north bifurcating and gradually sinking to the level of the plain. the loftiest peaks are near the extremity of this section, one of them rising to 3000 feet. two bright craters are associated with these mountains, one nearly central, and the other south of it. _the percy mountains_.--this name is given to the bright highlands extending east of gassendi towards mersenius, forming the north-eastern border of the mare humorum. they abound in minute detail--bright little mountains and ridges--and include some clefts pertaining to the mersenius rill-system; but their most noteworthy feature is the long bright mountain-arm, branching out from the eastern wall of gassendi, and extending for more than 50 miles towards the south-east. the principal ranges on the limb are the _leibnitz mountains_, extending from s. lat. 70 deg. on the west to s. lat. 80 deg. on the east limb. they include some giant peaks and plateaus, noteworthy objects in profile, some of which, according to schroter and madler, rise to 26,000 feet. the _dorfel mountains_, between s. lat. 80 deg. and 57 deg. on the eastern limb, include, if schroter's estimate is correct, three peaks which exceed 26,000 feet. on the eastern limb, between s. lat. 35 deg. and 18 deg., extend the _rook mountains_, which have peaks, according to schroter, as high as 25,000 feet. next in order come the _cordilleras_, which extend to s. lat. 8 deg., and the _d'alembert mountains_, lying east of rocca and grimaldi, closely associated with them, and probably part of the same system. some of the peaks approach 20,000 feet. in addition to these mountain ranges there are others less prominent on the limb in the northern hemisphere, which have not been named. isolated mountains are very numerous in different parts of the moon, the most remarkable are referred to in the appendix. many remain unnamed. clefts or rills.--though fontenelle, in his _entretiens sur la pluralite des mondes_, informs his pupil, the marchioness, that "m. cassini discovered in the moon something which separates, then reunites, and finally loses itself in a cavity, which from its appearance seemed to be a river," it can hardly be supposed that what the french astronomer saw, or fancied he saw, with the imperfect telescopes of that day, was one of the remarkable and enigmatical furrows termed clefts or rills, first detected by the hanoverian selenographer schroter; who, on october 7, 1787, discovered the very curious serpentine cleft near herodotus, having a few nights before noted for the first time the great alpine valley west of plato, once classed with the clefts, though it is an object of a very different kind. between 1787 and 1797 schroter found ten rills; but twenty years elapsed before an addition was made to this number by the discoveries of gruithuisen, and, a short time after, by those of lohrmann, who in twelve months (1823-24) detected seventy. kinau, madler, and finally schmidt, followed, till, in 1866, when the latter published his work, _ueber rillen auf dem monde_, the list was thus summarised:-in the 1st or n.w. quadrant 127 rills in the 2nd or n.e. quadrant 75 rills in the 3rd or s.e. quadrant 141 rills in the 4th or s.w. quadrant 82 rills or 425 in all. since the date of this book the number of known rills has been more than doubled; in fact, scarcely a lunation passes without new discoveries being made. the significance of the word _rille_ in german, a groove or furrow, describes with considerable accuracy the usual appearance of the objects to which it is applied, consisting as they do of long narrow channels, with sides more or less steep, and sometimes vertical. they often extend for hundreds of miles in approximately straight lines over portions of the moon's surface, frequently traversing in their course ridges, craters, and even more formidable obstacles, without any apparent check or interruption, though their ends are sometimes marked by a mound or crater. their length ranges from ten or twelve to three hundred miles or more (as in the great sirsalis rill), their breadth, which is very variable within certain limits, from less than half a mile to more than two, and their depth (which must necessarily remain to a great extent problematical) from 100 to 400 yards. they exhibit in the telescope a gradation from somewhat coarse grooves, easily visible at suitable times in very moderately sized instruments, to striae so delicate as to require the largest and most perfect optical means and the best atmospheric conditions to be glimpsed at all. viewed under moderate amplification, the majority of rills resemble deep canal-like channels with roughly parallel sides, displaying occasionally local irregularities, and fining off to invisibility at one or both ends. but, if critically scrutinised in the best observing weather with high powers, the apparent evenness of their edges entirely disappears, and we find that the latter exhibit indentations, projections, and little flexures, like the banks of an ordinary stream or rivulet, or, to use a very homely simile, the serrated edges and little jagged irregularities of a biscuit broken across. in some cases we remark crateriform hollows or sudden expansions in their course, and deep sinuous ravines, which render them still more unsymmetrical and variable in breadth. with regard to their distribution on the lunar surface; they are found in almost every region, but perhaps not so frequently on the surface of the maria as elsewhere, though, as in the case of the triesnecker and other systems, they often abound in the neighbourhood of disturbed regions in these plains, and in many cases along their margins, as, for example, the gassendi-mersenius and the sabine-ritter groups. the interior of walled plains are frequently intersected by them, as in gassendi, where nearly forty, more or less delicate examples, have been seen; in hevel, where there is a very interesting system of crossed clefts, and within posidonius. if we study any good modern lunar map, it is evident how constantly they appear near the borders of mountain ranges, walled-plains, and ring-plains; as, for instance, at the foot of the apennines; near archimedes, aristarchus, ramsden, and in many other similar positions. rugged highlands also are often traversed by them, as in the case of those lying west of le monnier and chacornac, and in the region west of the mare humorum. it may be here remarked, however, as a notable fact, that the neighbourhood of the grandest ring-mountain on the moon, copernicus, is, strange to say, devoid of any features which can be classed as true clefts, though it abounds in crater-rows. the intricate network of rills on the west of triesnecker, when observed with a low power, reminds one of the wrinkles on the rind of an orange or on the skin of a withered apple. gruithuisen, describing the rill-traversed region between agrippa and hyginus, says that "it has quite the look of a dutch canal map." in the subjoined catalogue many detailed examples will be given relating to the course of these mysterious furrows; how they occasionally traverse mountain arms, cut through, either completely or partially (as in ramsden), the borders of ring-plains and other enclosures, while not unfrequently a small mound or similar feature appears to have caused them to swerve suddenly from their path, as in the case of the ariadaeus cleft, and in that of one member of the mercator-campanus system. of the actual nature of the lunar rills we are, it must be confessed, supremely ignorant. with some of the early observers it was a very favourite notion that they are artificial works, constructed presumably by kepler's _sub-volvani_, or by other intelligences. there is perhaps some excuse to be made for the freaks of an exuberant fancy in regard to objects which, if we ignore for a moment their enormous dimensions, judged by a terrestrial standard, certainly have, in their apparent absence of any physical relation to neighbouring objects, all the appearance of being works of art rather than of nature. the keen-sighted and very imaginative gruithuisen believed that in some instances they represent roads cut through interminable forests, and in others the dried-up beds of once mighty rivers. his description of the triesnecker rill-system reads like a page from a geographical primer. a portion of it is compared to the river po, and he traces its course mile by mile up to the "delta" at its place of disemboguement into the mare vaporum. from the position of some rills with respect to the contour of the surrounding country, it is evident that if water were now present on the moon, they, being situated at the lowest level, would form natural channels for its reception; but the exceptions to this arrangement are so numerous and obvious, that the idea may be at once dismissed that there is any analogy between them and our rivers. the eminent selenographer, the late w.k. birt, compared many of them to "inverted river-beds" from the fact that, as often as not, they become broader and deeper as they attain a higher level. the branches resemble rivers more frequently than the main channels; for they generally commence as very fine grooves, and, becoming broader and broader, join them at an acute angle. an attempt again has been made to compare the lunar clefts with those vast gorges, the marvellous results of aqueous action, called canyons, which attain their greatest dimensions in north america; such as the great canyon of the colorado, which is at least 300 miles in length, and in places 2000 yards in depth, with perpendicular or even overhanging sides; but the analogy, at first sight specious, utterly breaks down under closer examination. some selenographers consider them to consist of long-extending rows of confluent craters, too minute to be separately distinguished, and to be thus due to some kind of volcanic action. this is undoubtedly true in many instances, for almost every lunar region affords examples of craterrows merging by almost imperceptible gradations into cleft-like features, and crater-rows of considerable size resemble clefts under low powers. still it seems probable that the greater number of these features are immense furrows or cracks in the surface and nothing more; for the higher the magnifying power employed in their examination, the less reason there is to object to this description. dr. klein of cologne believes that rills of this class are due to the shrinkage of parts of the moon's crust, and that they are not as a rule the result of volcanic causes, though he admits that there may be some which have a seismic origin. no good reason has as yet been given for the fact that they so frequently cross small craters and other objects in their course, though it has been suggested that the route followed by a rill from crater to crater in these instances may be a line of least surface resistance, an explanation far from being satisfactory. whether variations in the visibility of lunar details, when observed under apparently similar conditions, actually occur from time to time from some unknown cause, is one of those vexed questions which will only be determined when the moon is systematically studied by experienced observers using the finest instruments at exceptionally good stations; but no one who examines existing records of observations of rills by gruithuisen, lohrmann, madler, schmidt, and other observers, can well avoid the conclusion that the anomalies brought to light therein point strongly to the probability of the existence of some agency which occasionally modifies their appearance or entirely conceals them from view. the following is one illustration out of many which might be quoted. at a point in its course, nearly due north of the ring-plain agrippa, the great ariadaeus cleft sends out a branch which runs into the well-known hyginus cleft, reminding one, as dr. klein remarks, of two rivers connected in the shortest way by a canal. this uniting furrow was detected by gruithuisen, who observed it several times. on some occasions it appeared perfectly straight, at others very irregular; but, what is very remarkable, although two such accurate observers as lohrmann and madler frequently scrutinised the region, neither of them saw a trace of this object; and but for its rediscovery by schmidt in 1862, its existence would certainly have been ignored by selenographers as a mere figment of gruithuisen's too lively imagination. dr. klein has frequently seen this rill with great distinctness, and at other times sought for it in vain; though on each occasion the conditions of illumination, libration, and definition were practically similar. i have sometimes found this cleft an easy object with a 4 inch achromatic. again, many rills described by madler as very delicate and difficult to trace, may now be easily followed in "common telescopes." in short, the more direct telescopic observations accumulate, and the more the study of minute detail is extended, the stronger becomes the conviction, that in spite of the absence of an appreciable atmosphere, there may be something resembling low-lying exhalations from some parts of the surface which from time to time are sufficiently dense to obscure, or even obliterate, the region beneath them. if, as seems most probable, these gigantic cracks are due to contractions of the moon's surface, it is not impossible, in spite of the assertions of the text-books to the effect that our satellite is now "a changeless world," that emanations may proceed from these fissures, even if, under the monthly alternations of extreme temperatures, surface changes do not now occasionally take place from this cause also. should this be so, the appearance of new rills and the extension and modification of those already existing may reasonably be looked for. many instances might be adduced tending to confirm this supposition, to one of which, as coming under my notice, i will briefly refer. on the evening of november 11, 1883, when examining the interior of the great ring-plain mersenius with a power of 350 on an 8 1/2 inch reflector; in addition to the two closely parallel clefts discovered by schmidt, running from the inner foot of the north-eastern rampart towards the centre, i remarked another distinct cleft crossing the northern part of the floor from side to side. shortly afterwards, m. gaudibert, one of our most experienced selenographers, who has discovered many hitherto unrecorded clefts, having seen my drawing, searched for this object, and, though the night was far from favourable, had distinct though brief glimpses of it with the moderate magnifying power of 100. mersenius is a formation about 40 miles in diameter, with a prominently convex interior, containing much detail which has received more than ordinary attention from observers. it has, moreover, been specially mapped by schmidt and others, yet no trace of this rill was noted, though objects much more minute and difficult have not been overlooked. does not an instance of this kind raise a well-grounded suspicion of recent change which it is difficult to explain away? to see the lunar clefts to the best advantage, they must be looked for when not very far removed from the terminator, as when so situated the black shadow of one side, contrasted with the usually brightlyilluminated opposite flank, renders them more conspicuous than when they are viewed under a higher sun. though, as a rule, invisible at full moon, some of the coarser clefts--as, for example, a portion of the hyginus furrow, and that north of birt--may be traced as delicate white lines under a nearly vertical light. for properly observing these objects, a power of not less than 300 on telescopes of large aperture is needed; and in studying their minute and delicate details, we are perhaps more dependent on atmospheric conditions than in following up any other branch of observational astronomy. few indeed are the nights, in our climate at any rate, when the rough, irregular character of the steep interior of even the coarser examples of these immense chasms can be steadily seen. we can only hope to obtain a more perfect insight into their actual structural peculiarities when they are scrutinised under more perfect climatic circumstances than they have been hitherto. when observing the hyginus cleft, dr. klein noticed that at one place the declivities of the interior displayed decided differences of tint. at many points the reflected sunlight was of a distinctly yellow hue, while in other places it was white, as if the cliffs were covered with snow. he compares this portion of the rill to the rhine valley between bingen and coblentz, but adds that the latter, if viewed from the moon, would probably not present so fresh an appearance, and would, of course, be frequently obscured by clouds. since the erection of the great lick telescope on mount hamilton, our knowledge of the details of some of the lunar clefts has been greatly increased, as in the case of the ariadaeus cleft, and many others. professor w.h. pickering, also, at arequipa, has made at that ideal astronomical site many observations which, when published, will throw more light upon their peculiar characteristics. a few years ago m.e.l. trouvelot of meudon drew attention to a curious appearance which he noted in connection with certain rills when near the terminator, viz., extremely attenuated threads of light on their sites and their apparent prolongations. he observed it in the ring-plain eudoxus, crossing the southern side of the floor from wall to wall; and also in connection with the prominent cleft running from the north side of burg to the west of alexander, and in some other situations. he terms these phenomena _murs enigmatiques_. apparent prolongations of clefts in the form of rows of hillocks or small mounds are very common. faults.--these sudden drops in the surface, representing local dislocations, are far from unusual: the best examples being the straight wall, or "railroad," west of birt; that which strikes obliquely across plato; another which traverses phocylides; and a fourth that has manifestly modified the mountain arm north of cichus. they differ from the terrestrial phenomena so designated in the fact that the surface indications of these are destroyed by denudation or masked by deposits of subsequent date. in many cases on the moon, though its course cannot be traced in its entirety by its shadow, yet the existence of a fault may be inferred by the displacement and fracture of neighbouring objects. valleys.--features thus designated, differing greatly both in size and character, are met with in almost every part of the surface, except on the grey plains. while the smallest examples, from their delicacy, tenuity, and superficial resemblance to rills, are termed rill-valleys, the larger and more conspicuous assume the appearance of coarse chasms, gorges, or trough-like depressions. between these two extremes, are many objects of moderate dimensions--winding or straight ravines and defiles bounded by steep mountains, and shallow dales flanked by low rounded heights. the rill valleys are very numerous, only differing in many instances from the true rills in size, and are probably due to the same cause. among the most noteworthy valleys of the largest class must, of course, be placed the great valley of the alps, one of the most striking objects in the northern hemisphere, which also includes the great valley south-east of ukert. the rheita valley, the very similar chasm west of reichenbach, and the gorge west of herschel, are also notable examples in the southern hemisphere. the borders of some of the maria (especially that of the mare crisium) and of many of the depressed rimless formations, furnish instances of winding valleys intersecting their borders: the hilly regions likewise often abound in long branching defiles. bright ray-systems.--reference has already been made to the faint light streaks and markings often found on the floors of the ring-mountains and in other situations, and to the brilliant _nimbi_ surrounding some of the smaller craters; but, in addition to these, many objects on the moon's visible surface are associated with a much more remarkable and conspicuous phenomenon--the bright rays which, under a high sun, are seen either to radiate from them as apparent centres to great distances, or, in the form of irregular light areas, to environ them, and to throw out wide-spreading lucid beams, extending occasionally many hundreds of miles from their origin. the more striking of these systems were recognised and drawn at a very early stage of telescopic observation, as may be seen if we consult the quaint old charts of hevel, riccioli, fontana, and other observers of the seventeenth century, where they are always prominently, though very inaccurately, portrayed. the principal ray-systems are those of tycho, copernicus, kepler, anaxagoras, aristarchus, olbers, byrgius a, and zuchius; while autolycus, aristillus, proclus, timocharis, furnerius a, and menelaus are grouped as constituting minor systems. many additional centres exist, a list of which will be found in the appendix. the rays emanating from tycho surpass in extent and interest any of the others. hundreds of distinct light streaks originate round the grey margin of this magnificent object, some of them extending over a greater part of the moon's visible superficies, and "radiating," in the words of professor phillips, "like false meridians, or like meridians true to an earlier pole of rotation." no systematic attempt has yet been made to map them accurately as a whole on a large scale, for their extreme intricacy and delicacy would render the task a very difficult one, and, moreover, would demand a long course of observation with a powerful telescope in an ideal situation; but professor w.h. pickering, observing under these conditions at arequipa, has recently devoted considerable attention both to the tycho and other rays, with especially suggestive and important results, which may be briefly summarised as follows:-(1.) that the tycho streaks do not radiate from the apparent centre of this formation, but point towards a multitude of minute craterlets on its south-eastern or northern rims. similar craterlets occur on the rims of other great craters, forming ray-centres. (2.) speaking generally, a very minute and brilliant crater is located at the end of the streak nearest the radiant point, the streak spreading out and becoming fainter towards the other end. the majority of the streaks appear to issue from one or more of these minute craters, which rarely exceed a mile in diameter. (3.) the streaks which do not issue from minute craters, usually lie upon or across ridges, or in other similar exposed situations, sometimes apparently coming through notches in the mountain walls. (4.) many of the copernicus streaks start from craterlets within the rim, flow up the inside and down the outside of the walls. kepler includes two such craterlets, but here the flow seems to have been more uniform over the edges of the whole crater, and is not distinctly divided up into separate streams. (5.) though there are similar craters within tycho, the streaks from them do not extend far beyond the walls. all the conspicuous tycho streaks originate outside the rim. (6.) the streaks of copernicus, kepler, and aristarchus are greyish in colour, and much less white than those associated with tycho: some white lines extending south-east from aristarchus do not apparently belong to the system. in the case of craterlets lying between aristarchus and copernicus the streaks point away from the latter. (7.) there are no very long streaks; they vary from ten to fifty miles in length, and are rarely more than a quarter of a mile broad at the crater. from this point they gradually widen out and become fainter. their width, however, at the end farthest from the crater, seldom exceeds five miles. these statements, especially those relating to the length of the streaks, are utterly opposed to prevailing notions, but professor pickering specifies the case of the two familiar parallel rays extending from the north-east of tycho to the region east of bullialdus. his observations show that these streaks, originating at a number of little craters situated from thirty to sixty miles beyond the confines of tycho, "enter a couple of broad slightly depressed valleys. in these valleys are found numerous minute craters of the kind above described, with intensely brilliant interiors. when the streaks issuing from those craters near tycho are nearly exhausted, they are reinforced by streaks from other craters which they encounter upon the way, the streaks becoming more pronounced at these points. these streaks are again reinforced farther out. these parallel rays must therefore not be considered as two streaks, but as two series of streaks, the components of which are placed end to end." thus, according to professor pickering, we must no longer regard the rays emanating from the tycho region and other centres as continuous, but as consisting of a succession of short lengths, diminishing in brilliancy but increasing in width, till they reach the next crater lying in their direction, when they are reinforced; and the same process of gradual diminution in brightness and reinforcement goes on from one end to the other. the following explanation is suggested to account for the origin of the rays:--"the earth and her satellite may differ not so much as regards volcanic action as in the densities of their atmospheres. thus if the craterlets on the rim of tycho were constantly giving out large quantities of gas or steam, which in other regions was being constantly absorbed or condensed, we should have a wind uniformly blowing away from that summit in all directions. should other summits in its vicinity occasionally give out gases, mixed with any fine white powder, such as pumice, this powder would be carried away from tycho, forming streaks." the difficulty surrounding this very ingenious hypothesis is, that though, assuming the existence of pumice-emitting craters and regions of condensation, there might be a more or less lineal and streaky deposition of this white material over large areas of the moon, why should this deposit be so definitely arranged, and why should these active little craters happen to lie on these particular lines? the confused network of streaks round copernicus seem to respond more happily to the requirements of professor pickering's hypothesis, for here there is an absence of that definiteness of direction so manifestly displayed in the case of the tycho rays, and we can well imagine that with an area of condensation surrounding this magnificent object beyond the limits of the streaks, and a number of active little craters on and about its rim, the white material ejected might be drawn outwards in every direction by wind currents, which possibly once existed, and, settling down, assume forms such as we see. nasmyth's well-known hypothesis attributes the radiating streaks to cracks in the lunar globe caused by the action of an upheaving force, and accounts for their whiteness by the outwelling of lava from them which has spread to a greater or less distance on either side. if the moon has been fractured in this way, we can easily suppose that the craters formed on these fissures, being in communication with the interior, might eject some pulverulent white matter long after the rest of the surface with its other types of craters had attained a quiescent stage. the tycho rays, when viewed under ordinary conditions, appear to extend in unbroken bands to immense distances. one of the most remarkable, strikes along the eastern side of fracastorius, across the mare nectaris to guttemberg, while another, more central, extends, with local variations in brightness, through menelaus, over the mare serenitatis nearly to the north-west limb. this is the ray that figures so prominently in rude woodcuts of the moon, in which the mare serenitatis traversed by it is made to resemble the greek letter phi. the kepler, aristarchus, and copernicus systems, though of much smaller extent, are very noteworthy from the crossing and apparent interference of the rays; while those near byrgius, round aristarchus, and the rays from proclus, are equally remarkable. [nichol found that the rays from kepler cut through rays from copernicus and aristarchus, while rays from the latter cut through rays from the former. he therefore inferred that their relative ages stand in the order,--copernicus, aristarchus, kepler.] as no branch of selenography has been more neglected than the observation of these interesting but enigmatical features, one may hope that, in spite of the exacting conditions as to situation and instrumental requirements necessary for their successful scrutiny, the fairly equipped amateur in this less favoured country will not be deterred from attempting to clear up some of the doubts and difficulties which at present exist as to their actual nature. the moon's albedo, surface brightness, &c.--sir john herschel maintained that "the actual illumination of the lunar surface is not much superior to that of weathered sandstone rock in full sunshine." "i have," he says, "frequently compared the moon setting behind the grey perpendicular facade of the table mountain, illuminated by the sun just risen in the opposite quarter of the horizon, when it has been scarcely distinguishable in brightness from the rock in contact with it. the sun and moon being at nearly equal altitudes, and the atmosphere perfectly free from cloud or vapour, its effect is alike on both luminaries." zollner's elaborate researches on this question are closely in accord with the above observational result. though he considers that the brightest parts of the surface are as white as the whitest objects with which we are acquainted, yet, taking the reflected light as a whole, he finds that the moon is more nearly black than white. the most brilliant object on the surface is the central peak of the ring-plain aristarchus, the darkest the floor of grimaldi, or perhaps a portion of that of the neighbouring riccioli. between these extremes, there is every gradation of tone. proctor, discussing this question on the basis of zollner's experiments respecting the light reflected by various substances, concludes that the dark area just mentioned must be notably darker than the dark grey syenite which figures in his tables, while the floor of aristarchus is as white as newly fallen snow. the estimation of lunar tints in the usual way, by eye observations at the telescope, involving as it does physiological errors which cannot be eliminated, is a method far too crude and ambiguous to form the basis of a scientific scale or for the detection of slight variations. an instrument on the principle of dawes' solar eyepiece has been suggested; this, if used with an invariable and absolute scale of tints, would remove many difficulties attending these investigations. the scale which was adopted by schroter, and which has been used by selenographers up to the present time, is as follows:- 0 deg. = black. 1 deg. = greyish black. 2 deg. = dark grey. 3 deg. = medium grey. 4 deg. = yellowish grey. 5 deg. = pure light grey. 6 deg. = light whitish grey. 7 deg. = greyish white. 8 deg. = pure white. 9 deg. = glittering white. 10 deg. = dazzling white. the following is a list of lunar objects published in the _selenographical journal_, classed in accordance with this scale:-0 deg. black shadows. 1 deg. darkest portions of the floors of grimaldi and riccioli. 1 1/2 deg. interiors of boscovich, billy, and zupus. 2 deg. floors of endymion, le monnier, julius caesar, cruger, and fourier _a_. 2 1/2 deg. interiors of azout, vitruvius, pitatus, hippalus, and marius. 3 deg. interiors of taruntius, plinius, theophilus, parrot, flamsteed, and mercator. 3 1/2 deg. interiors of hansen, archimedes, and mersenius. 4 deg. interiors of manilius, ptolemaeus, and guerike. 4 1/2 deg. surface round aristillus, sinus medii. 5 deg. walls of arago, landsberg, and bullialdus. surface round kepler and archimedes. 5 1/2 deg. walls of picard and timocharis. rays from copernicus. 6 deg. walls of macrobius, kant, bessel, mosting, and flamsteed. 6 1/2 deg. walls of langrenus, theaetetus, and lahire. 7 deg. theon, ariadaeus, bode b, wichmann, and kepler. 7 1/2 deg. ukert, hortensius, euclides. 8 deg. walls of godin, bode, and copernicus. 8 1/2 deg. walls of proclus, bode a, and hipparchus c. 9 deg. censorinus, dionysius, mosting a, and mersenius b and c. 9 1/2 deg. interior of aristarchus, la peyrouse delta. 10 deg. central peak of aristarchus. temperature of the moon's surface.--till the subject was undertaken some years ago by lord rosse, no approach was made to a satisfactory determination of the surface temperature of the moon. from his experiments he inferred that the maximum temperature attained, at or near the equator, about three days after full moon, does not exceed 200 deg. c., while the minimum is not much under zero c. subsequent experiments, however, both by himself and professor langley, render these results more than doubtful, without it is admitted that the moon has an atmospheric covering. langley's results make it probable that the temperature never rises above the freezing-point of water, and that at the end of the prolonged lunar night of fourteen days it must sink to at least 200 deg. below zero. mr. f.w. verey of the alleghany observatory has recently conducted, by means of the bolometer, similar researches as to the distribution of the moon's heat and its variation with the phase, by which he has deduced the varying radiation from the surface in different localities of the moon under various solar altitudes. lunar observation.--in observing the moon, we enjoy an advantage of which we cannot boast when most other planetary bodies are scrutinised; for we see the actual surface of another world undimmed by palpable clouds or exhalations, except such as exist in the air above us; and can gaze on the marvellous variety of objects it presents much as we contemplate a relief map of our own globe. but inasmuch as the manifold details of the relief map require to be placed in a certain light to be seen to the best advantage, so the ring-mountains, rugged highlands, and wide-extending plains of our satellite, as they pass in review under the sun, must be observed when suitable conditions of illumination prevail, if we wish to appreciate their true character and significance. as a general rule, lunar objects are best seen when they are at no great distance from "the terminator," or the line dividing the illumined from the unillumined portion of the spherical surface. this line is constantly changing its position with the sun, advancing slowly onwards towards the east at a rate which, roughly speaking, amounts to about 30.5 min. in an hour, or passing over 10 deg. of lunar longitude in about 19 hrs. 40 mins. when an object is situated on this line, the sun is either rising or setting on the neighbouring region, and every inequality of the surface is rendered prominent by its shadow; so that trifling variations in level and minor asperities assume for the time being an importance to which they have no claim. if we are observing an object at lunar sunrise, a very short time, often only a few minutes, elapses before the confusion caused by the presence of the shadows of these generally unimportant features ceases to interfere with the observation, and we can distinguish between those details which are really noteworthy and others which are trivial and evanescent. every formation we are studying should be observed, and drawn if possible, under many different conditions of illumination. it ought, in fact, to be examined from the time when its loftiest heights are first illumined by the rising sun till they disappear at sunset. this is, of course, practically impossible in the course of one lunation, but by utilising available opportunities, a number of observations may be obtained under various phases which will be more or less exhaustive. it cannot be said that much is known about any object until an attempt has been made to carry out this plan. features which assume a certain appearance at one phase frequently turn out to be altogether different when viewed under another; important details obscured by shadows, craters masked by those of neighbouring objects, or by the shadows of their own rims, are often only revealed when the sun has attained an altitude of ten degrees or more. in short, there is scarcely a formation on the moon which does not exemplify the necessity of noting its aspect from sunrise to sunset. regard must also be had to libration, which affects to a greater or less degree every object; carrying out of the range of observation regions near the limb at one time, and at another bringing into view others beyond the limits of the maps, which represent the moon in the mean state of libration. the area, in fact, thus brought into view, or taken out of it, is between 1/12th and 1/13th of the entire area of the moon, or about the 1/6th part of the hemisphere turned away from the earth. it is convenient to bear in mind that we see an object under nearly the same conditions every 59 d. 1 h. 28 m., or still more accurately, after the lapse of fifteen lunations, or 442 d. 23 h. many observers avoid the observation of objects under a high light. this, however, should never be neglected when practicable, though in some cases it is not easy to carry out, owing to the difficulty in tracing details under these circumstances. although to observe successfully the minuter features, such as the rills and the smaller craterlets, requires instruments of large aperture located in favourable situations, yet work of permanent value may be accomplished with comparatively humble telescopic means. a 4 inch achromatic, or a silver-on-glass reflector of 6 or 6 1/2 inches aperture, will reveal on a good night many details which have not yet been recorded, and the possessor of instruments of this size will not be long in discovering that the moon, despite of what is often said, has not been so exhaustively surveyed that nothing remains for him to do. only experience and actual trial will teach the observer to choose the particular eyepiece suitable for a given night or a given object. it will be found that it is only on very rare occasions that he can accomplish much with powers which, perhaps only on two or three nights in a year in this climate, tell to great advantage; though it sometimes happens that the employment of an eyepiece, otherwise unsuitable for the night, will, during a short spell of good definition, afford a fleeting glimpse of some difficult feature, and thus solve a doubtful point. it has often been said that the efficiency of a telescope depends to a great extent on "the man at the eye end." this is as true in the case of the moon as it is in other branches of observational astronomy. observers, especially beginners, frequently fall into great error in failing to appreciate the true character of what they see. in this way a shallow surface depression, possibly only a few feet below the general level of the neighbouring country, is often described as a "vast gorge," because, under very oblique light, it is filled with black shadow; or an insignificant hillock is magnified into a mountain when similarly viewed. hence the importance, just insisted on, of studying lunar features under as many conditions as possible before finally attempting to describe them. however indifferent a draughtsman an observer may be, if he endeavours to portray what he sees to the best of his ability, he will ultimately attain sufficient skill to make his work useful for future reference: in any case, it will be of more value than a mere verbal description without a sketch. doubt and uncertainty invariably attend to a greater or less extent written notes unaccompanied by drawings, as some recent controversies, respecting changes in linne and elsewhere, testify. now that photographs are generally available to form the basis of a more complete sketch, much of the difficulty formerly attending the correct representation of the outline and grosser features of a formation has been removed, and the observer can devote his time and attention to the insertion and description of less obvious objects. progress of selenography.--till within recent years, the systematic study of the lunar surface may be said to have been confined, in this country at any rate, to a very limited number of observers, and, except in rare instances, those who possessed astronomical telescopes only directed them to the moon as a show object to excite the wonder of casual visitors. the publication of webb's "celestial objects" in 1859, the supposed physical change in the crater linne, announced in 1866, and the appearance of an unrecorded black spot near hyginus some ten years later, had the effect of awakening a more lively interest in selenography, and undoubtedly combined to bring about a change in this respect, which ultimately resulted in the number of amateurs devoting much of their time to this branch of observational astronomy being notably increased. still, large telescopes, as a rule, held aloof for some unexplained reason, or were only employed in a desultory and spasmodic fashion, without any very definite object. when the council of the british association for the advancement of science, stimulated by the linne controversy, deemed the moon to be worthy of passing attention, observations, directed to objects suspected of change (the phenomena on the floor of plato) were left to three or four observers, under the able direction of mr. birt, the largest instruments available being an 8 1/4 inch reflector and the crossley refractor of 9 inches aperture! during the last decade, however, all this has been changed, and we not only have societies, such as the british astronomical association, setting apart a distinct section for the systematic investigation of lunar detail, but some of the largest and most perfect instruments in the world, among them the noble refractor on mount hamilton, employed in photographing the moon or in scrutinising her manifold features by direct observation. hence, it may be said that selenography has taken a new and more promising departure, which, among other results, must lead to a more accurate knowledge of lunar topography, and settle possibly, ere long, the vexed question of change, without any residuum of doubt. lunar photography as exemplified by the marvellous and beautiful pictures produced at the lick observatory under the auspices of dr. holden, and the exquisite enlargements of them by dr. weinek of prague; at paris by the brothers henry; and at brussels by m. prinz; point to the not far distant time when we shall possess complete photographic maps on a large scale of the whole visible disc under various phases of illumination, which will be of inestimable value as topographical charts. when this is accomplished, the observer will have at his command faithful representations of any formation, or of any given region he may require, to utilise for the study of the smaller details by direct observation. desultory and objectless drawings and notes have hitherto been more or less characteristic of the work done, even by those who have given more than ordinary attention to the moon. though these, if duly recorded, are valuable as illustrating the physical structure, the estimated brightness under various phases, and other peculiarities of lunar features, they do not materially forward investigations relating to the discovery of present lunar activity or to the detection of actual change. it is reiterated _ad nauseam_ in many popular books that the moon is a changeless world, and it is implied that, having attained a state when no further manifestations of internal or external forces are possible, it revolves round the earth in the condition, for the most part, of a globular mass of vesicular lava or slag, possessing no interest except as a notable example of a "burnt-out planet." in answer to these dogmatic assertions, it may be said that, notwithstanding the multiplication of monographs and photographs, the knowledge we possess, even of the larger and more prominent objects, is far too slight to justify us in maintaining that changes, which on earth we should use a strong adjective to describe, have not taken place in connection with some of them in recent years. would the most assiduous observer assert that his knowledge of any one of the great formations, in the south-west quadrant, for example, is so complete that, if a chasm as big as the val del bove was blown out from its flanks, or formed by a landslip, he would detect the change in the appearance of an area (some three miles by four) thus brought about, unless he had previously made a very prolonged and exhaustive study of the object? or, again, among formations of a different class, the craters and crater-cones; might not objects as large as monte nuovo or jorullo come into existence in many regions without any one being the wiser? it would certainly have needed a persistent lunar astronomer, and one furnished with a very perfect telescope, to have noted the changes that have occurred within the old crater-ring of somma or among the santorin group during the past thirty years, or even to have detected the effects resulting from the great catastrophe in a.d. 79, at vesuvius; yet these objects are no larger than many which, if they were situated on our satellite, would be termed comparatively small, if not insignificant. one of the principal aims of lunar research is to learn as much as possible as to the present condition of the surface. every one qualified to give an opinion will admit that this cannot be accomplished by roaming at large over the whole visible superficies, but only by confining attention to selected areas of limited extent, and recording and describing every object visible thereon, under various conditions of illumination, with the greatest accuracy attainable. this plan was suggested and inaugurated nearly thirty years ago by mr. birt, under the patronage of the british association; but as he proposed to deal with the entire disc in this way, the magnitude and ambitious character of the scheme soon damped the ardour of those who at first supported it, and it was ultimately abandoned. it was, however, based on the only feasible principle which, as it seems to the writer, will not result in doubt and confusion. now that photography has come to the assistance of the observer, mr. birt's proposal, if confined within narrower limits, would be far less arduous an undertaking than before, and might be easily carried out. a complete photographic survey of a few selected regions, as a basis for an equally thorough and exhaustive scrutiny by direct observation, would, it is believed, lead to a much more satisfactory and hopeful method for ultimately furnishing irrefragable testimony as to permanency or change than any that has yet been undertaken. catalogue of lunar formations first quadrant west longitude 90 deg. to 60 deg. schubert.--this ring-plain, about 46 miles in diameter, situated on the n.e. side of the mare smythii, is too near the limb to be well observed. neper.--though still nearer the limb, this walled-plain, 74 miles in diameter, is a much more conspicuous object. it has a lofty border and a prominent central mountain, the highest portion of a range of hills which traverses the interior from n. to s. apollonius.--a ring-plain, 30 miles in diameter, standing in the mountainous region s. of the mare crisium. there is a large crater on the s.w. wall, and another, somewhat smaller, adjoining it on the n. there are many brilliant craters in the vicinity. firmicus.--a somewhat larger, more regular, but, in other respects, very similar ring-plain, n.w. of the last. some distance on the w., madler noted a number of dark-grey streaks which apparently undergo periodical changes, suggestive of something akin to vegetation. they are situated near a prominent mountain situated in a level region. azout.--a small ring-plain, connected with the last by a lofty ridge. it is the apparent centre of many other ridges and valleys which radiate from it towards the n.w. and the mare crisium. there is a central mountain, not an easy telescopic object, on its dusky floor. condorcet.--a very prominent ring-plain, 45 miles in diameter, situated on the mountainous s.w. margin of the mare crisium. it is encircled by a lofty wall about 8000 feet in height. the dark interior of this and of the three preceding formations render them easily traceable under a high angle of illumination. hansen.--a ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, on the w. border of the mare crisium n. of condorcet. schmidt shows a central mountain and a terraced wall. alhazen.--this ring-plain, rather smaller than the last, is the most northerly of the linear chain of formations, associated with the highlands bordering the s.w. and the w. flanks of the mare crisium. it has a central mountain and other minor elevations on the floor. there is a little ring between alhazen and hansen, never very conspicuous in the telescope, which is plainly traceable in good photographs. eimmart.--a conspicuous ring-plain with bright walls on the n.w. margin of the mare crisium. the e. border attains a height of 10,000 feet above the interior, which, according to schmidt, has a small central mountain. there is a rill-like valley on the e. of the formation. oriani.--an irregular object, 32 miles in diameter, somewhat difficult to identify, n.w. of the last. there is a conspicuous crater on the n. of it, with which it is connected by a prominent ridge. plutarch.--a fine ring-plain w. of oriani, with regular walls, and, according to neison, with two central mountains, only one of which i have seen. both this formation and the last are beautifully shown in a photograph taken august 19, 1891, at the lick observatory, when the moon's age was 15 d. 10 hrs. seneca.--rather smaller than plutarch. too near the limb for satisfactory observation. schmidt shows two considerable mountains in the interior. the position of this object in schmidt's chart is not accordant with its place in beer and madler's map, nor in that of neison. hahn.--a ring-plain, 46 miles in diameter, with a fine central mountain and lofty peaks on the border, which is not continuous on the s. there is a large and prominent crater on the e. berosus.--a somewhat smaller object of a similar type, n. of hahn, but with a loftier wall. there is a want of continuity also in the border, the eastern and western sections of which, instead of joining, extend for some distance towards the s., forming a narrow gorge or valley. outside the s.e. wall there is a small crater, and some irregular depressions on the e. the minute central mountain is only seen with difficulty under a low evening sun. the bright region between hahn and berosus and the western flank of cleomedes is an extensive plain, devoid of prominent detail, and which, according to neison, includes an area of 40,000 square miles. gauss.--a large, and nearly circular walled-plain, 111 miles in diameter, situated close to the n.w. limb, and consequently always foreshortened into a more or less elongated ellipse. but for this it would be one of the grandest objects in the first quadrant. under the designation of "mercurius falsus" it received great attention from schroter, who gives several representations of it in his _selenotopographische fragmente_, which, though drawn in his usual conventional style, convey a juster idea of its salient features than many subsequent drawings made under far better optical conditions. the border, especially on the w., is very complex, and is discontinuous on the s., where it is intersected by more than one pass, and is prolonged far beyond the apparent limits of the formation. the most noteworthy feature is the magnificent mountain chain which traverses the floor from n. to s. it is interesting to watch the progress of sunset thereon, and see peak after peak disappear, till only the great central boss and a few minute glittering points of light, representing the loftier portions of the chain, remain to indicate its position. madler expatiates on the sublime view which would be obtained by any one standing on the highest peak and observing the setting sun on one side of him and the nearly "full" earth on the other; while beneath him would lie a vast plain, shrouded in darkness, surrounded by the brilliantly illuminated peaks on the lofty border, gradually passing out of sunlight. in addition to the central mountain range, there are some large rings, craters, hillocks, &c., on the floor; and on the inner slope of the w. border there is a very large circular enclosure resembling a ring-plain, not recorded in the maps. schmidt shows a row of large craters on the outer slope of the e. border. of these, one is very conspicuous under a low evening sun, by reason of its brilliant walls and interior. in the region between gauss and berosus is a number of narrow steep ridges which follow the curvature of the e. wall. struve.--a small irregularly-shaped formation, open towards the s., forming one of the curious group of unsymmetrical enclosures associated with messala. its dark floor and a small dusky area on the n. indicate its position under a high sun. carrington.--a small ring-plain, belonging to the messala group, adjoining schumacher on the n.w. mercurius.--this formation is 25 miles in diameter. a small crater stands on the s.e. section of the wall. there is a longitudinal range in the interior, and on the w. and n.w. the remains of two large walled-plains, the more westerly of which is a noteworthy object under suitable conditions. a short distance s. is a large, irregular, and very dark marking. on the n., lies an immense bright plain, extending nearly to the border of endymion. west longitude 60 deg. to 40 deg. taruntius.--notwithstanding its comparatively low walls, this ring-plain, 44 miles in diameter, is a very conspicuous object under a rising sun. like vitello and a few other formations, it has an inner ring on the floor, concentric with the outer rampart, which i have often seen nearly complete under evening illumination. there is a small bright crater on the s.e. wall, and a larger one on the crest of the n.e. wall, with a much more minute depression on the w. of it, the intervening space exhibiting signs of disturbance. the upper portion of the wall is very steep, contrasting in this respect with the very gentle inclination of the _glacis_, which on the s. extends to a distance of at least 30 miles before it sinks to the level of the surrounding country, the gradient probably being as slight as 1 in 45. two low dusky rings and a long narrow valley with brilliant flanks are prominent objects on the plain e. of taruntius under a low evening sun. secchi.--a partially enclosed little ring-plain s. of taruntius, with a prominent central mountain and bright walls. there is a short cleft running in a n.e. direction from a point near the e. wall. schmidt represents it as a row of inosculating craters. picard.--the largest of the craters on the surface of the mare crisium, 21 miles in diameter. the floor, which includes a central mountain, is depressed about 2000 feet below the outer surface, and is surrounded by walls rising some 3000 feet above the mare. a small but lofty ring-plain, picard e, on the e., near the border of the mare, is remarkable for its change of aspect under different angles of illumination. a long curved ridge running s. from this, with a lower ridge on the west, sometimes resemble a large enclosure with a central mountain. still farther s., there is another bright deep crater, _a_, with a large low ring adjoining it on the s., abutting on the s.e. border of the mare. schroter bestowed much attention on these and other formations on the mare crisium, and attributed certain changes which he observed to a lunar atmosphere. peirce.--this formation, smaller than picard, is also prominent, its border being very bright. there is a central peak, which, though not an easy object, i once glimpsed with a 4 inch cook achromatic, and have seen it two or three times since with an 8 1/2 inch calver reflector. a small crater, detected by schmidt, which i once saw very distinctly under evening illumination, stands on the floor at the foot of the w. wall. peirce a, a deeper formation, lies a little n. of peirce, and has also, according to neison, a very slight central hill, which is only just perceptible under the most favourable conditions. schmidt appears to have overlooked it. proclus.--one of the most brilliant objects on the moon's visible surface, and hence extremely difficult to observe satisfactorily. it is about 18 miles in diameter, with very steep walls, and, according to schmidt, has a small crater on its east border, where madler shows a break. it is questionable whether there is a central mountain. it is the centre of a number of radiating light streaks which partly traverse the mare crisium, and with those emanating from picard, peirce, and other objects thereon, form a very complicated system. macrobius.--this, with a companion ring on the w., is a very beautiful object under a low sun. it is 42 miles in diameter, and is encircled by a bright, regular, but complex border, some 13,000 feet in height above the floor. its crest is broken on the e. by a large brilliant crater, and its continuity is interrupted on the n. by a formation resembling a large double crater, which is associated with a number of low rounded banks and ridges extending some distance towards the n.w., and breaking the continuity of the _glacis_. the w. wall is much terraced, and on the n.w. includes a row of prominent depressions, well seen when the interior is about half illuminated under a rising sun. the central mountain is of the compound type, but not at all prominent. the companion ring, macrobius c, is terraced internally on the w., and the continuity of its n. border broken by two depressions. there is a rill-valley between its n.e. side and macrobius. cleomedes.--a large oblong enclosure, 78 miles in diameter, with massive walls, varying in altitude from 8000 to 10,000 feet above the interior. the most noteworthy features in connection with the circumvallation are the prominent depressions on the w. wall. under a rising sun, when about one-fourth of the floor is in shadow, three of these can be easily distinguished, each resembling in form the analemma figure. there are two other curious depressions at the s.w. end of the formation. on the dark steel-grey floor are two irregular dusky areas, and a narrow but bright central mountain, on which, according to schmidt, stand two little craters. there are two ring-plains on the s.w. quarter, and a group of three associated craters on the n. side, one of which (a) schroter believed came into existence after he commenced to observe the formation, a supposition that has been shown by birt and others to be very improbable. tralles.--a large irregular crater, one of the deepest on the visible surface of the moon, situated on the n.e. wall of cleomedes. there is a crater on its n. wall, and, according to schmidt, some ridges and three closely associated craters on the floor. burckhardt.--this object, situated on an apparent extension of the w. wall of cleomedes, is 35 miles in diameter, with a lofty border, rising on the e. to an altitude of nearly 13,000 feet. it has a prominent central mountain and some low ridges on the floor, which, together with two minute craters on the s.w. wall, i have seen under a low angle of morning illumination. it is flanked both on the e. and w. by deep irregular depressions, which present the appearance of having once been complete formations. geminus.--a fine regular ring-plain, 54 miles in diameter, nearly circular, with bright walls, rising on the e. to a height of more than 12,000 feet, and on the opposite side to nearly 16,000 feet above the floor. their crest is everywhere very steep, and the inner slope is much terraced. there is a small but conspicuous mountain in the interior; n. of which i have seen a long ridge, where schmidt shows some hillocks. two fine clefts are easily visible within the ring, one running for some distance on the s.e. side of the floor, mounting the inner slope of the s.w. border to the summit ridge (where it is apparently interrupted), and then striking across the plain in a s.w. direction. here it is accompanied for a short distance by a somewhat coarser companion, running parallel to it on the n. the other cleft occupies a very similar position on the n.w. side of the floor at the inner foot of the wall. on several occasions, when observing this formation and the vicinity, i have been struck by its peculiar colour under a low evening sun. at this time the whole region appears to be of a warm light brown or sepia tone. bernouilli.--a very deep ring-plain on the w. side of geminus. under evening illumination its lofty w. wall, which rises to a height of nearly 13,000 feet above the floor, is conspicuously brilliant. this formation exhibits a marked departure from the circular type, being bounded by rectilineal sides. the inner slope of the w. wall is slightly terraced. the border on the s. is much lower than elsewhere, as is evident when the formation is on the evening terminator. on the n. is the deep crater messala _a_. newcomb.--the most prominent of a group of formations standing in the midst of the haemus mountains. its crest is nearly 12,000 feet above the floor, on which there are some hills. messala.--this fine walled-plain, nearly 70 miles in diameter, is, with its surroundings, an especially interesting object when observed under a low angle of illumination. its complex border, though roughly circular, displays many irregularities in outline, due mainly to rows of depressions. the best view of it is obtained when the w. wall is on the evening terminator. at this phase, if libration is favourable, the manifold details of its very uneven and apparently convex floor are best seen. on the s.w. side is a group of large craters associated with a number of low hills, of which schmidt shows five; but i have seen many more, together with several ridges between them and the e. wall. i noted also a cleft, or it may be a narrow valley, running from the foot of the n.w. wall towards the centre. on the floor, abutting on the n.e. border, is a semicircular ridge of considerable height, and beyond the border on the n.e. there is another curved ridge, completing the circle, the wall forming the diameter. this formation is clearly of more ancient date than messala, as the n.e. wall of the latter has cut through it. where messala joins schumacher there is a break in the border, occupied by three deep depressions. schumacher.--a large irregular ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, associated with the n. wall of messala, and having other smaller rings adjoining it on the e. and n. the interior seems to be devoid of detail. hooke.--another irregular ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, on the n.e. of messala. there is a bright crater of considerable size on the s.w., which is said to be more than 6000 feet in depth, and, according to neison, is visible as a white spot at full. there is a smaller crater on the slope of the n.w. wall. shuckburgh.--a square-shaped enclosure on the n. of the last, with a comparatively low border. it has a conspicuous crater at its n.w. corner. berzelius.--a considerable ring-plain of regular form, with low walls and dark interior, on which there is a central peak, difficult to detect. franklin.--a ring-plain, 33 miles in diameter, which displays a considerable departure from the circular type, as the border is in great part made up of rectilineal sections. both the w. and n.e. wall is much terraced, and rises about 8000 feet above the dark floor, on the s. part of which there is a long ridge. there is a bright little isolated mountain on the plain e. of the formation, and a conspicuous craterlet on the n.w. an incomplete ring, with a very attenuated border, abuts on the s. side of franklin. cepheus.--a peculiarly shaped ring-plain, 27 miles in diameter. the e. border is nearly rectilineal, while on the w., the wall forms a bold curve. there is a very brilliant crater on the summit of this section, and a central mountain on the floor. the w. wall is much terraced. w. of cepheus, close to the brilliant crater, there is a cleft or narrow valley running n. towards oersted. oersted.--an oblong formation with very low walls, scarcely traceable on the s.e., except when near the terminator. there is a conspicuous crater on the n.w. side of the floor, and a curious square enclosure, with a crater on its w. border, abutting on the n.e. wall. chevallier.--an inconspicuous object enclosed by slightly curved ridges. it includes a deep bright crater. on the n. is a low square formation and a long ridge running n. from it. just beyond the n.e. wall is the fine large crater, atlas a, with a much smaller but equally conspicuous crater beyond. a has a central hill, which, in spite of the bright interior, is not a difficult feature. atlas.--this, and its companion hercules on the e., form under oblique illumination a very beautiful pair, scarcely surpassed by any other similar objects on the first quadrant. its lofty rampart, 55 miles in diameter, is surmounted by peaks, which on the n. tower to an altitude of nearly 11,000 feet. it exhibits an approach to a polygonal outline, the lineal character of the border being especially well marked on the n. the detail on the somewhat dark interior will repay careful scrutiny with high powers. there is a small but distinct central mountain, south of which stands a number of smaller hills, forming with the first a circular arrangement, suggestive of the idea that they represent the relics of a large central crater. several clefts may be seen on the floor under suitable illumination, among them a forked cleft on the n.e. quarter, and two others, originating at a dusky pit of irregular form situated near the foot of the s.e. wall, one of which runs w. of the central hills, and the other on the opposite side. a ridge, at times resembling a light marking, extends from the central mountain to the n. border. during the years 1870 and 1871 i bestowed some attention on the dusky pit, and was led to suspect that both it and the surrounding area vary considerably in tone from time to time. professor w.h. pickering, observing the formation in 1891 with a 13 inch telescope under the favourable atmospheric conditions which prevail at arequipa, peru, confirmed this supposition, and has discovered some very interesting and suggestive facts relating to these variations, which, it is hoped, will soon be made public. on the plain a short distance beyond the foot of the _glacis_ of the s.e. wall, i have frequently noted a second dusky spot, from which proceeds, towards the e., a long rill-like marking. on the n. there is a large formation enclosed by rectilineal ridges. the outer slopes of the rampart of atlas are very noteworthy under a low sun. hercules.--the eastern companion of atlas, a fine ring-plain, about 46 miles in diameter, with a complex border, rising some 11,000 feet above a depressed floor. there are few formations of its class and size which display so much detail in the shape of terraces, apparent landslips, and variation in brightness. in the interior, s.e. of the centre, is a very conspicuous crater, which is visible as a bright spot when the formation itself is hardly traceable, two large craterlets slightly n. of the centre, and several faint little spots on the east of them. the latter, detected some years ago by herr hackel of stuttgart, are arranged in the form of a horse-shoe. there are two small contiguous craters on the s.e. wall, one of which, a difficult object, was recently detected by mr. w.h. maw, f.r.a.s. the well-known wedge-shaped protuberance on the s. wall is due to a large irregular depression. on the bright inner slope of the n. wall are manifest indications of a landslip. endymion.--a large walled-plain, 78 miles in diameter, enclosed by a lofty, broad, bright border, surmounted in places by peaks which attain a height of more than 10,000 feet above the interior, one on the w. measuring more than 15,000 feet. the walls are much terraced and exhibit two or three breaks. the dark floor appears to be devoid of detail. schmidt, however, draws two large irregular mounds e. of the centre, and shows four narrow light streaks crossing the interior nearly parallel to the longer axis of the formation. de la rue.--notwithstanding its great extent, this formation hardly deserves a distinctive name, as from the lowness of its border it is scarcely traceable in its entirety except under very oblique light. schmidt, nevertheless, draws it with very definite walls, and shows several ridges and small rings in the interior. among these objects, a little e. of the centre, there is a prominent peak. strabo.--a small walled-plain, 32 miles in diameter, connected with the n. border of the last. thales.--a bright formation, also associated with the n. side of de la rue, adjoining strabo on the n.e. schmidt shows a minute hill in the interior. there are several unnamed formations, large and small, between de la rue and the limb, some of which are well worthy of examination. west longitude 40 deg. to 20 deg. maskelyne.--a regular ring-plain, 19 miles in diameter, standing almost isolated in the mare tranquilitatis. the floor, which includes a central mountain, is depressed some 3000 feet below the surrounding surface. there are prominent terraces on the inner slope of the walls. schmidt shows no craters upon them, but madler draws a small one on the e., the existence of which i can confirm. manners.--a brilliant little ring-plain, 11 miles in diameter, on the s.e. side of the mare tranquilitatis. there appears to be no detail whatever in connection with its wall. it has a distinct central mountain. about three diameters distant on the s.w. there is a bright crater, omitted by madler and neison. arago.--a much larger formation, 18 miles in diameter, n. of the last, with a small crater on its n. border, and exhibiting two or three spurs from the wall on the opposite side. the inner slopes are terraced, and there is a small central mountain. there are two curious circular protuberances on the mare e. of arago, which are well seen when the w. longitude of the morning terminator is about 19 deg., and a long cleft, passing about midway between them, and extending from the foot of the e. wall to a small crater on the edge of the mare near sosigenes. another cleft, also terminating at this crater, runs towards arago and the more northerly of the protuberances. cauchy.--a bright little crater, not more than 7 or 8 miles in diameter, on the w. side of the mare tranquilitatis, n.e. of taruntius. it has a peak on its w. rim considerably loftier than the rest of the wall, which is visible as a brilliant spot at sunrise long before the rest of the rampart is illuminated. on the s. there are two bright longitudinal ridges ranging from n.e. to s.w. these stand in the position where neison draws two straight clefts. the cauchy cleft, however, lies n. of these, and terminates, as shown by schmidt, among the mountains n.e. of taruntius. i have seen it thus on many occasions, and it is so represented in a drawing by m.e. stuvaert (_dessins de la lune_). there is a number of minute craters and mounds standing on the s. side of this cleft, and many others in the vicinity. jansen.--owing to its comparatively low border, this is not a very conspicuous object. it is chiefly remarkable for the curious arrangement of the mountains and ridges on the s. and w. of it. there is a bright little crater on the s. side of the floor, and many noteworthy objects of the same class in the neighbourhood. the mountain arm running s., and ultimately bending e., forms a large incomplete hook-shaped formation terminating at a ring-plain, jansen b. the ridges in the mare tranquilitatis between jansen b. and the region e. of maskelyne display under a low sun foldings and wrinklings of a very extraordinary kind. maclear.--a conspicuous ring-plain about 16 miles in diameter. the dark floor includes, according to madler, a delicate central hill which schmidt does not show. neison, however, saw a faint greyish mark, and an undoubted peak has been subsequently recorded. i have not succeeded in seeing any detail within the border, which in shape resembles a triangle with curved sides. ross.--a somewhat larger ring-plain of irregular form, on the n.w. of the last. there are gaps on the bright s.w. border and a crater on the s.e. wall. the central mountain is an easy feature. plinius.--this magnificent object reminds one at sunrise of a great fortress or redoubt erected to command the passage between the mare tranquilitatis and the mare serenitatis. it is 32 miles in diameter, and is encompassed by a very massive rampart, rising at one peak on the e. to more than 6000 feet above the interior, and displaying, especially on the s.e., and n., many spurs and buttresses. the exterior slopes at sunrise, and even when the sun is more than 10 deg. above the horizon, are seen to be traversed by wide and deep valleys. the s. _glacis_ is especially broad, extending to a distance of 10 or 12 miles before it runs down to the level of the plain. the shape of the circumvallation, when it is fully illuminated, approximates very closely to that of an equilateral triangle with curved sides. there are two bright little craters on the outer slope, just below the summit ridge on the s.e., and another, larger, on the n. wall, in which it makes a prominent gap. the interior is considerably brighter than the surface of the surrounding mare, and, a little s. of the centre, includes two crater-like objects with broken rims. these assume different aspects under different conditions of illumination, and it is only when the floor is lighted by a comparatively low morning sun, that their true character is apparent. on the n.w. quarter of the interior are two smaller distinct craters, and a square arrangement of ridges. on the n.e. there are some hillocks and minor elevations. the plinius rills form an especially interesting system, and under favourable conditions may be seen in their entirety with a good 4 inch refractor, about the time when the morning terminator passes through julius caesar. they consist of three long fissures, originating amid the haemus highlands, on the s. side of the mare serenitatis, and diverging towards the w. the most southerly commences s.s.e. of the acherusian promontory (a great headland, 5000 feet high, at the w. termination of the haemus range), and, following a somewhat undulating course, runs up to the n. side of dawes. under a low evening sun, i have remarked many inequalities in the width of that portion of it immediately n. of plinius, which appear to indicate that it is here made up of rows of inosculating craters. the cleft north of this originates very near it, passes a little s. of the promontory, and runs to the e. edge of the plateau surrounding dawes. the third and most northerly cleft begins at a point immediately n. of the promontory, cuts through the s. end of the well-known serpentine ridge on the mare serenitatis, and, after following a course slightly concave to the n., dies out on the n. side of the plateau. this cleft forms the line of demarcation between the dark tone of the mare serenitatis and the light hue of the mare tranquilitatis, traceable under nearly every condition of illumination, and prominent in all good photographs. dawes.--a ring-plain 14 miles in diameter, situated n.w. of plinius, on a nearly circular light area. its bright border rises to a height of 2000 feet above the mare, and includes a central mountain, a white marking on the e., and a ridge running from the mountain to the s. wall. there are two closely parallel clefts on the n. side of the plateau running from e. to w., that nearer dawes being the longer, and having a craterlet standing upon it about midway between its extremities. at its w. termination there is a crater-row running at right angles to it. the light area appears to be bounded on the e. by a low curved bank. vitruvius.--a ring-plain 19 miles in diameter with bright but not very lofty walls, situated among the mountains near the s.w. side of the mare serenitatis. it is surrounded by a region remarkable for its great variability in brightness. there is a large bright ring-plain on the w., with a less conspicuous companion on the s. of it. maraldi.--a deep but rather inconspicuous formation, bounded on the w. by a polygonal border. a small ring-plain with a central mountain is connected with the s.w. wall; and, running in a n. direction from this, is a short mountain arm which joins a large circular enclosure with a low broken border standing on the n. side of the mare tranquilitatis. littrow.--a peculiar ring-plain, rather smaller than the last, some distance n. of vitruvius, on the rocky w. border of the mare serenitatis. it is shaped like the letter d, the straight side facing the w. there is a distinct crater on the n. wall. on the n.w. it is flanked by three irregular ring-plains, and on the s.e. by a fourth. neison shows two small mountains on the floor, but schmidt, whose drawing is very true to nature, has no detail whatever. a fine cleft may be traced from near the foot of the e. wall to mount argaeus, passing s. of a bright crater on the mare e. of littrow. it extends towards the plinius system, and is probably connected with it. mount argaeus.--there are few objects on the moon's visible surface which afford a more striking and beautiful picture than this mountain and its surrounding heights with their shadows a few hours after sunrise. it attains an altitude of more than 8000 feet above the mare, and at a certain phase resembles a bright spear-head or dagger. there is a welldefined rimmed depression abutting on its southern point. romer.--a prominent formation of irregular outline, 24 miles in diameter, situated in the midst of the taurus highlands. it has a very large central mountain, a crater on the n. side of the floor, and terraced inner slopes. some distance on the n. is another ring, nearly as large, with a crater on its s. rim, and between this and posidonius is another with a wide gap on the s. and a crater on its n. border. one of the most remarkable crater-rills on the moon runs from the e. side of romer through this latter ring, and then northwards on to the plain w. of posidonius. under suitable conditions, it can be seen as such in a 4 inch achromatic. it is easily traceable as a rill in a photograph of the n. polar region of the moon taken by mm. henry at the paris observatory, and recently published in _knowledge_. le monnier.--a great inflection or bay on the w. border of the mare serenitatis s. of posidonius. like many other similar formations on the edges of the maria, it appears at one time or other to have had a continuous rampart, which on the side facing the "sea" has been destroyed. in this, as in most of the other cases, relics of the ruin are traceable under oblique light. a fine crescent-shaped mountain, 3000 feet high, stands near the s. side of the gap, and probably represents a portion of a once lofty wall. it will repay the observer to watch the progress of sunrise on the whole of the w. coast-line of the mare up to mount argaeus. posidonius.--this magnificent ring-plain is justly regarded as one of the finest telescopic objects in the first quadrant. its narrow bright wall with its serrated shadow, the conspicuous crater, the clefts and ridges and other details on the floor, together with the beautiful group of objects on the neighbouring plain, and the great serpentine ridge on the e., never fail to excite the interest of the observer. the circumvallation, which is far from being perfectly regular, is about 62 miles in diameter, and, considering its size, is not remarkable for its altitude, as it nowhere exceeds 6000 feet above the interior, which is depressed about 2000 feet below the surrounding plain. its continuity, especially on the e., is interrupted by gaps. on the n., the wall is notably deformed. it is broader and more regular on the w., where it includes a large longitudinal depression, and on the n.w. section stand two bright little ring-plains. on the floor, which shines with a glittering lustre, are the well-marked remains of a second ring, nearly concentric with the principal rampart, and separated from it by an interval of nine or ten miles. the most prominent object, however, is the bright crater a little e. of the centre. this is partially surrounded on the w. by three or four small bright mountains, through which runs in a meridional direction a rill-valley, not easily traced as a whole, except under a low sun. there is another cleft on the n.e. side of the interior, which is an apparent extension of part of the inner ring, a transverse rill-valley on the n., a fourth _quasi_ rill on the n.w., and a fifth short cleft on the s. part of the floor. between the principal crater and the s.e. wall are two smaller craters, which are easy objects. beyond the border on the n., in addition to daniell, are four conspicuous craters and many ridges. chacornac.--this object, connected with posidonius on the s.w., is remarkable for the brilliancy of its border and the peculiarity of its shape, which is very clearly that of an irregular pentagon with linear sides. i always find the detail within very difficult to make out. two or more low ridges, traversing the floor from n. to s., and a small crater, are, however, clearly visible under oblique illumination. schmidt draws a crater-rill, and neison two parallel rills on the floor,--the former extends in a southerly direction to the w. side of le monnier. daniell.--a bright little ring-plain n. of posidonius. it is connected with a smaller ring-plain on the n.w. wall of the latter by a low ridge. bond, g.p.--a small bright ring-plain 12 miles in diameter, w. of posidonius. neison shows a crater both on the n. and s. rim. schmidt omits these. maury.--a bright deep little ring-plain, about 12 miles in diameter, on the w. border of the lacus somniorum. it is the centre of four prominent hill ranges. grove.--a bright deep ring-plain, 15 miles in diameter, in the lacus somniorum, with a border rising 7000 feet above a greatly depressed floor, which includes a prominent mountain. mason.--the more westerly of two remarkable ring-plains, situated in the highlands on the s. side of the lacus mortis. it is 14 miles in diameter, has a distinct crater on its s. wall, and, according to schmidt, a crater on the e. side of the floor. plana.--a formation 23 miles in diameter, closely associated with the last. neison states that the floor is convex and higher than the surrounding region. it has a triangular-shaped central mountain, a crater, and at least three other depressions on the s.w. wall where it joins mason. burg.--a noteworthy formation, 28 miles in diameter, on the mare, n. of plana. the floor is concave, and includes a very large bright mountain, which occupies a great portion of it. the interior slopes are prominently terraced, and there are several spurs associated with the _glacis_ on the s. and n.e. a distinct cleft runs from the n. side of the formation to the s.e. border of the lacus somniorum, which is crossed by another winding cleft running from a crater e. of plana towards the n.e. baily.--a small ring-plain, n. of burg, flanked by mountains, with a large bright crater on the w. the group of mountains standing about midway between it and burg are very noteworthy. gartner.--a very large walled-plain with a low incomplete border on the e., but defined on the w. by a lofty wall. schmidt shows a curved craterrow on the w. side of the floor. democritus.--a deep regular ring-plain, about 25 miles in diameter, with a bright central mountain and lofty terraced walls. arnold.--a great enclosure, bounded, like so many other formations hereabouts, by straight parallel walls. there is a somewhat smaller walled-plain adjoining it on the w. moigno.--a ring-plain with a dark floor, adjoining the last on the n.e. there is a conspicuous little crater in the interior. euctemon.--this object is so close to the limb that very little can be made of its details under the most favourable conditions. according to neison, there is a peak on the n. wall 11,000 feet in height. meton.--a peculiarly-shaped walled-plain of great size, exhibiting considerable parallelism. the floor is seen to be very rugged under oblique illumination. west longitude 20 deg. to 0 deg. sabine.--the more westerly of a remarkable pair of ring-plains, of which ritter is the other member, situated on the e. side of the mare tranquilitatis a little n. of the lunar equator. it is about 18 miles in diameter, and has a low continuous border, which includes a central mountain on a bright floor. from a mountain arm extending from the s. wall, run in a westerly direction two nearly parallel clefts skirting the edge of the mare. the more southerly of these terminates near a depression on a rocky headland projecting from the coast-line, and the other stops a few miles short of this. a third cleft, commencing at a point n.e. of the headland, runs in the same direction up to a small crater near the n. end of another cape-like projection. at 8 h. on april 9, 1886, when the morning terminator bisected sabine, i traced it still farther in the same direction. all these clefts exhibit considerable variations in width, but become narrower as they proceed westwards. ritter.--is very similar in every respect to the last. a curved rill mentioned by neison is on the n.e. side of the floor and is concentric with the wall. on the n. side of this ring-plain are three conspicuous craters, the two nearer being equal in size and the third much smaller. schmidt.--a bright crater at the foot of the s. slope of ritter. dionysius.--this crater, 13 miles in diameter, is one of the brightest spots on the lunar surface. it stands on the e. border of the mare, about 30 miles e.n.e. of ritter. a distinct crater-row runs round its outer border on the w., and ultimately, as a delicate cleft, strikes across the mare to the e. side of ritter. both crater-row and cleft are easy objects in a 4 inch achromatic under morning illumination. ariadaeus.--a bright little crater of polygonal shape, with another crater of about one-third the area adjoining it on the n.w., situated on the rocky e. margin of the mare tranquilitatis, n.e. of ritter. a short cleft runs from it towards the latter, but dies out about midway. a second cleft begins near its termination, and runs up to the n.e. wall of ritter. e. of this pair a third distinct cleft, originating at a point on the coast-line about midway between ariadaeus and dionysius, ends near the same place on the border. there is a fourth cleft extending from the n. side of a little bay n. of ariadaeus across the mare to a point n.w. of the more northerly of the three craters n. of ritter. at a small crater on the s. flank of the mountains bordering the little bay n. of ariadaeus originates one of the longest and most noteworthy clefts on the moon's visible surface, discovered more than a century ago by schroter of lilienthal. it varies considerably in breadth and depth, but throughout its course over the plain, between ariadaeus and silberschlag, it can be followed without difficulty in a very small telescope. e. of the latter formation, towards hyginus (with which rill-system it is connected), it is generally more difficult. a few miles e. of ariadaeus it sends out a short branch, running in a s.w. direction, which can be traced as a fine white line under a moderately high sun. it is interesting to follow the course of the principal cleft across the plain, and to note its progress through the ridges and mountain groups it encounters. in the great lick telescope it is seen to traverse some old crater-rings which have not been revealed in smaller instruments. about midway between ariadaeus and silberschlag it exhibits a duplication for a short distance, first detected by webb. de morgan.--a brilliant little crater, 4 miles in diameter, on the plain s. of the ariadaeus cleft. cayley.--a very deep bright crater, with a dark interior, n. of the last, and more than double its diameter. there is a second crater between this and the cleft. whewell.--another bright little ring, about 3 miles in diameter, some distance to the e. of de morgan and cayley. sosigenes.--a small circular ring-plain, 14 miles in diameter, with narrow walls, a central mountain, and a minute crater outside the wall on the e.; situated on the e. side of the mare tranquilitatis, w. of julius caesar. there is another crater, about half its diameter, on the s., connected with it by a low mound. this has a still smaller crater on the w. of it. julius caesar.--a large incomplete formation of irregular shape. the wall on the e. is much terraced, and forms a flat "s" curve. the summit ridge is especially bright, and has a conspicuous little crater upon it. on the w. is a number of narrow longitudinal valleys trending from n. to s., included by a wide valley which constitutes the boundary on this side. the border on the s. consists of a number of low rounded banks, those immediately e. of sosigenes being traversed by several shallow valleys, which look as if they had been shaped by alluvial action. there is a brilliant little hill at the end of one of these valleys, a few miles e. of sosigenes. the floor of julius caesar is uneven in tone, becoming gradually duskier from s. to n., the northern end ranking among the darkest areas on the lunar surface. there are at least three large circular swellings in the interior. a long low mound, with two or three depressions upon it, bounds the wide valley on the e. side. godin.--a square-shaped ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, with rounded corners. the bright rampart is everywhere lofty, except on the s., is much terraced, and includes a central mountain. on the s. a curious trumpet-shaped valley, extending some distance towards the s.w., and bounded by bright walls, is a noteworthy feature at sunrise. there are other longitudinal valleys with associated ridges on this side of the formation, all running in the same direction. there is a large bright crater outside the border on the n.e., and, between it and the wall, another, smaller, which is readily seen under a high sun. agrippa.--a ring-plain 28 miles in diameter on the n. of the last, with a terraced border rising to a height of between 7000 and 8000 feet above the floor, which contains a large bright central mountain and two craters on the s. the shape of this formation deviates very considerably from circularity, the n. wall, on which stands a small crater, being almost lineal. on the w., at a distance of a few miles, runs the prominent mountain range, extending northwards nearly up to the e. flank of julius caesar, which bounds the e. side of the great ariadaeus plain. between this rocky barrier and agrippa is a very noteworthy enclosure containing much minute detail and a long straight ridge resembling a cleft. a few miles n. of agrippa stands a small crater; at a point w. of which the hyginus cleft originates. silberschlag.--a very brilliant crater, 8 or 9 miles in diameter, connected with the great mountain range just referred to. the ariadaeus cleft cuts through the range a few miles n. of it. this neighbourhood at sunrise presents a grand spectacle. with high powers under good atmospheric conditions, the plain e. of the mountains is seen to be traversed by a number of shallow winding valleys, trending towards agrippa, and separated by low rounded hills which have all the appearance of having been moulded by the action of water. boscovich.--this is not a very striking telescopic object under any phase, on account of its broken, irregular, and generally ill-defined border. it is, however, remarkable as being one of the darkest spots on the visible surface: in this respect a fit companion to julius caesar, its neighbour on the w. schmidt shows some ridges within it. rhaeticus.--a very interesting formation, about 25 miles in diameter, situated near the lunar equator, with a border intersected by many passes. a deep rill-like valley winds round its eastern _glacis_, commencing on the s. at a small circular enclosure standing at the end of a spur from the wall; and, after crossing a ridge w. of a bright little crater on the n. of the formation, apparently joins the most easterly cleft of the triesnecker system. a cleft traverses the n. side of the floor of rhaeticus, and extends across the plain on the e. as far as the n. side of reaumur. triesnecker.--apart from being the centre of one of the most remarkable rill-systems on the moon, this ring-plain, though only about 14 miles in diameter, is an object especially worthy of examination under every phase. at sunrise, and for some time afterwards, owing to the superior altitude of the n.w. section of the wall, a considerable portion of the border on the n. and n.e. is masked by its shadow, which thus appears to destroy its continuity. on more than one occasion, friends, to whom i have shown this object under these conditions, have likened it to a breached volcanic cone, a comparison which at a later stage is seen to be very inappropriate. the rampart is terraced within, and exhibits many spurs and buttresses without, especially on the n.w. the central mountain is small and not conspicuous. the rill-system is far too complicated to be intelligibly described in words. it lies on the w. side of the meridian passing through the formation, and extends from the n. side of rhaeticus to the mountain-land lying between ukert and hyginus on the n. birt likened these rills to "an inverted river system," a comparison which will commend itself to most observers who have seen them on a good night, for in many instances they appear to become wider and deeper as they approach higher ground. published maps are all more or less defective in their representations of them, especially as regards that portion of the system lying n. of triesnecker. hyginus.--a deep depression, rather less than 4 miles across, with a low rim of varying altitude, having a crater on its n. edge. this formation is remarkable for the great cleft which traverses it, discovered by schroter in 1788. the coarser parts of this object are easily visible in small telescopes, and may be glimpsed under suitable conditions with a 2 inch achromatic. commencing a little w. of a small crater n. of agrippa, it crosses, as a very delicate object, a plain abounding in low ridges and shallow valleys, and runs nearly parallel to the eastern extension of the ariadaeus rill. as it approaches hyginus it becomes gradually coarser, and exhibits many expansions and contractions, the former in many cases evidently representing craters. when the phase is favourable, it can be followed across the floor of hyginus, and i have frequently seen the banks with which it appears to be bounded (at any rate within the formation), standing out as fine bright parallel lines amid the shadow. on reaching the e. wall, it turns somewhat more to the n., becomes still coarser and more irregular in breadth, and ultimately expands into a wide valley on the n.e. it is connected with the ariadaeus cleft by a branch which leaves the latter at an acute angle on the plain e. of silberschlag, and joins it about midway between its origin n. of agrippa and hyginus. it is also probably joined to the triesnecker system by one or more branches e. of hyginus. on may 27, 1877, dr. hermann klein of cologne discovered, with a 5 1/2 inch plosel dialyte telescope, a dark apparent depression without a rim in the mare vaporum, a few miles n.w. of hyginus, which, from twelve years' acquaintance with the region, he was certain had not been visible during that period. on the announcement of this discovery in the _wochenschrift fur astronomie_ in march of the following year, the existence of the object described by dr. klein was confirmed, and it was sedulously scrutinised under various solar altitudes. to most observers it appeared as an ill-defined object with a somewhat nebulous border, standing on an irregularly-shaped dusky area, with two or more small dark craters and many low ridges in its vicinity. a little e. of it stands a curious spiral mountain called the schneckenberg. the question as to whether hyginus n. (as the dusky spot is called) is a new object or not, cannot be definitely determined, as, in spite of a strong case in favour of it being so, there remains a residuum of doubt and uncertainty that can never be entirely cleared away. after weighing, however, all that can be said "for and against," the hypothesis of change seems to be the most probable. ukert.--this bright crater, 14 miles in diameter, situated in the region n.e. of triesnecker, is surrounded by a very complicated arrangement of mountains; and on the n. and w. is flanked by other enclosures. it has a distinct central mountain. its most noteworthy feature is the great valley, more than 80 miles long, which extends from n.e. to s.w. on the e. side of it. this gorge is at least six miles in breadth, of great depth, and is only comparable in magnitude with the well-known valley which cuts through the alps, w. of plato. a delicate cleft, not very clearly traceable as a whole, begins near its n. end, and terminates amid the ramifications of the apennines s. of marco polo. taquet.--a conspicuous little crater on the s. border of the mare serenitatis at the foot of the haemus mountains. a branch of the great serpentine ridge, which traverses the w. side of this plain and other lesser elevations, runs towards it. menelaus.--a conspicuously bright regular ring-plain, about 20 miles in diameter, situated on the s. coast-line of the mare serenitatis, and closely associated with the haemus range. it has a brilliant central mountain, but no visible detail on the walls. on the edge of the mare, s.w. of it, there is a curious square formation. the bright streak traversing the mare from n. to s., which is so prominently displayed in old maps of the moon, passes through this formation. sulpicius gallus.--another brilliant object on the south edge of the mare serenitatis, some distance e. of the last. it is a deep circular crater about 8 miles in diameter, rising to a considerable height above the surface. its shadow under a low morning sun is prominently jagged. on the e. are two bright mounds, and s. of that which is nearer the border of the mare, commences a cleft which, following the curvature of the coastline, terminates at a point in w. long. 9 deg. this object varies considerably in width and depth. another shorter and coarser cleft runs s. of this across an irregularly shaped bay or inflexion in the border of the mare. manilius.--this, one of the most brilliant objects in the first quadrant, is about 25 miles in diameter, with walls nearly 8000 feet above the floor, which includes a bright central mountain. the inner slope of the border on the e. is much terraced and contains some depressions. there is a small isolated bright mountain 2000 feet high on the mare vaporum, some distance to the e. bessel.--a bright circular crater, 14 miles in diameter, on the s. half of the mare serenitatis, and the largest object of its class thereon. its floor is depressed some 2000 feet below the surrounding surface, while the walls, rising nearly 1600 feet above the plain, have peaks both on the n. and s. about 200 feet higher. the shadows of these features, noted by schroter in 1797, and by many subsequent observers, are very noteworthy. i have seen the shadow of a third peak about midway between the two. one may faintly imagine the magnificent prospect of the coastline of the mare with the haemus range, which would be obtained were it possible to stand on the summit of one of these elevations. it is doubtful whether bessel has a central mountain. neither madler nor schmidt have seen one, though webb noted a peak on two occasions. i fail to see anything within the crater. the bright streak crossing the mare from n. to s. passes through bessel. linne.--a formation on the e. side of the mare serenitatis, described by lohrmann and madler as a deep crater, but which in 1866 was found by schmidt to have lost all the appearance of one. the announcement of this apparent change led to a critical examination of the object by most of the leading observers, and to a controversy which, if it had no other result, tended to awaken an interest in selenography that has been maintained ever since. according to madler, the crater was more than 6 miles in diameter in his time, and very conspicuous under a low sun, a description to which it certainly did not answer in 1867 or at any subsequent epoch. it is anything but an easy object to see well, as there is a want of definiteness about it under the best conditions, though the minute crater, the low ridges, and the nebulous whiteness described by schmidt and noted by webb and others, are traceable at the proper phase. as in the case of hyginus n, there are still many sceptics as regards actual change, despite the records of lohrmann and madler; but the evidence in favour of it seems to preponderate. conon.--a bright little crater, 11 miles in diameter, situated among the intricacies of the apennines, s. of mount bradley. it has a central hill, which is not a difficult object. aratus.--one of the most brilliant objects on the visible surface of the moon, a crater 7 miles in diameter, s. of mount hadley, surrounded by the lofty mountain arms and towering heights of the apennines. a peak close by on the n. is more than 10,000 feet, and another farther removed towards the n.w. is over 14,000 feet in altitude. autolycus.--a ring-plain 23 miles in diameter, deviating considerably from circularity, w. of archimedes, on the mare imbrium, or rather on that part of it termed the palus putredinis. its floor, which contains an inconspicuous central mountain, is depressed some 4000 feet below the surrounding country. with a power of 150 on a 4 5/8 achromatic, dr. sheldon of macclesfield has seen two shallow crateriform depressions in the interior, one nearly central, and the other about midway between it and the n. wall. the wall is terraced within, and has a crater just below its crest on the w., which, when the opposite border is on the morning terminator, is seen as a distinct notch. autolycus is the centre of a minor ray-system. aristillus.--a larger and much more elaborate ring-plain, 34 miles in diameter, n. of autolycus. its complex wall, with its terraces within, and its buttresses, radiating spurs, and gullies without, forms a grand telescopic object under a low sun on a good night. it rises on the east 11,000 feet above the mare, and is about 2000 feet lower on the w., while the interior is depressed some 3000 feet. its massive central mountain, surmounted by many peaks, occupies a considerable area on the floor, and exhibits a digitated outline at the base. on the s. and w. a number of deep valleys radiate from the foot of the border, some of them extending nearly as far as autolycus. shallower but more numerous and regular features of the same class radiate towards the n.e. from the foot of the opposite wall. on the n.w. are several curved ridges, all trending towards theaetetus. on the s.e. the surface is trenched by a number of crossed gullies, well seen when the e. wall is on the morning terminator. just beyond the n. _glacis_ is a large irregular dusky enclosure with a central mound, and another smaller low ring adjoining it on the s.e. the visibility of these objects is very ephemeral, as they disappear soon after sunrise. aristillus is also the centre of a bright ray system. theaetetus.--a conspicuous ring-plain, about 16 miles in diameter, in the palus nebularum, n.w. of aristillus. it is remarkable for its great depth, the floor sinking nearly 5000 feet below the surface. its walls, 7000 feet high on the w., are devoid of detail. the _glacis_ on the s.w. has a gentle slope, and extends for a great distance before it runs down to the level of the plain. not far from the foot of the wall on the n. is a row of seven or eight bright little hills, near the eastern side of which originates a distinct cleft that crosses the palus in a n.w. direction, and terminates among mountains between cassini and calippus. i have seen this object easily with a 4 inch achromatic. calippus.--a bright ring-plain 17 miles in diameter, situated in the midst of the intricate caucasus mountain range. on the e. is a brilliant peak rising more than 13,000 feet above the palus nebularum, and nearer the border, on the n.e., is a second, more than 500 feet higher, with many others nearly as lofty in the vicinity. calippus has not apparently a central peak or any other features on the floor. cassini.--this remarkable ring-plain, about 36 miles in diameter, is very similar in character to posidonius. it has a very narrow wall, nowhere more than 4000 feet in height, and falling on the e. to 1500 feet. though a prominent and beautiful object under a low sun, its attenuated border and the tone of the floor, which scarcely differs from that of the surrounding surface, render it difficult to trace under a high angle of illumination, and perhaps accounts for the fact that it escaped the notice of hevel and riccioli; though it is certainly strange that a formation which is thrown into such strong relief at sunrise and sunset should have been overlooked, while others hardly more prominent at these times have been drawn and described. the outline of cassini is clearly polygonal, being made up of several rectilineal sections. the interior, nearly at the same level as the outside country, includes a large bright ring-plain, a, 9 miles in diameter and 2600 feet in depth, which has a good-sized crater on the s. edge of a great bank which extends from the s.w. side of this ring-plain to the wall. on the e. side of the floor, close to the inner foot of the border, is a bright deep crater about twothirds of the diameter of a, and between it and the latter brenner has seen three small hills. the outer slope of cassini includes much detail. on the s.w. is a row of shallow depressions just below the crest of the wall, and near the foot of the slope is a large circular shallow depression associated with a valley which runs partly round it. the shape of the _glacis_ on the w. is especially noteworthy, the s.w. and n.w. sides meeting at a slightly acute angle at a point 10 or 12 miles w. of the summit of the ring. on the outer e. slope is a curious elongated depression, and on the n. slope two large dusky rings, well shown by schmidt, but omitted in other maps. most of these details are well within the scope of moderate apertures. perhaps the most striking view of cassini and its surroundings is obtained when the morning terminator is on the central meridian. alexander.--a large irregularly shaped plain, at least 60 miles in longest diameter, enclosed by the caucasus mountains. on the s.w. and n.w. the border is lineal. it has a dark level floor on which there is a great number of low hills. eudoxus.--a bright deep ring-plain, about 40 miles in diameter, in the hilly region between the mare serenitatis and the mare frigoris, with a border much broken by passes, and deviating considerably from circularity. its massive walls, rising more than 11,000 feet above the floor on the w., and about 10,000 feet on the opposite side, are prominently terraced, and include crater-rows in the intervening valleys, while their outer slopes present a complicated system of spurs and buttresses. there is a bright crater on the n. _glacis_, and some distance beyond the wall on the n.w. is a small ring-plain, and on the s.e. another, with a conspicuous crater between it and the wall. neison draws attention to an area of about 1400 square miles on the n.e. which is covered with a great multitude of low hills. e. of eudoxus are two short crossed clefts, and on the n. a long cleft of considerable delicacy running from n.e. to s.w. it was in connection with this formation that trouvelot, on february 20, 1877, when the terminator passed through aristillus and alphonsus, saw a very narrow thread of light crossing the s. part of the interior and extending from border to border. he noted also similar appearances elsewhere, and termed them _murs enigmatiques_. aristoteles.--a magnificent ring-plain, 60 miles in diameter, with a complex border, surmounted by peaks, rising to nearly 11,000 feet above the floor, one of which on the w., pertaining to a terrace, stands out as a brilliant spot in the midst of shadow when the interior is filled with shadow. the formation presents its most striking aspect at sunrise, when the shadow of the w. wall just covers the floor, and the brilliant inner slope of the e. wall with the little crater on its crest is fully illuminated. at this phase the details of the terraces are seen to the best advantage. the arrangement of the parallel ridges and rows of hills on the n.e. and s.w. is likewise better seen at this time than under an evening sun. a bright and deep ring-plain, about 10 miles in diameter, with a distinct central mountain, is connected with the w. wall. egede.--a lozenge-shaped formation, about 18 miles from corner to corner, bounded by walls scarcely more than 400 feet in height. it is consequently only traceable under very oblique illumination. the great alpine valley.--a great wedge-shaped depression, cutting through the alps w. of plato, from w.n.w. to e.s.e. it is more than 80 miles in length, and varies in breadth from 6 miles on the s. to less than 4 miles on the n., where it approaches the s. border of the mare frigoris. for a greater part of its extent it is bounded on the s.w. side by a precipitous linear cliff, which, under a low evening sun, is seen to be fringed by a row of bright little hills. these are traceable up to one of the great mountain masses of the alps, forming the s.w. side of the great oval-shaped expansion of the valley, whose shape has been appropriately compared to that of a florence oil-flask, and which webb terms "a grand amphitheatre." on the opposite or n.e. side, the boundary of the valley is less regular, following a more or less undulating line up to a point opposite, and a little n. of, the great mountain mass, where it abuts on a shallow _quasi_ enclosure with lofty walls, which, projecting westwards, considerably diminish the width of the valley. south of this lies another curved mountain ring, which still farther narrows it. this curtailment in width represents the neck of the flask, and is apparently about 16 or 17 miles in length, and from 3 to 4 miles in breadth, forming a gorge, bordered on the w. by nearly vertical cliffs, towering thousands of feet above the bottom of the valley; and on the e. by many peaked mountains of still greater altitude. at the entrance to the "amphitheatre," the actual distance between the colossal rocks which flank the defile is certainly not much more than 2 miles. from this standpoint the view across the level interior of the elliptical plain would be of extraordinary magnificence. towards the s., but more than 12 miles distant, the outlook of an observer would be limited by some of the loftiest peaks of the alps, whose flanks form the boundary of the enclosure, through which, however, by at least three narrow passes he might perchance get a glimpse of the mare imbrium beyond. the broadest of these aligns with the axis of the valley. it is hardly more than a mile wide at its commencement on the s. border of the "amphitheatre," but expands rapidly into a trumpet-shaped gorge, flanked on either side by the towering heights of the alps as it opens out on to the mare. the bottom, both of the "amphitheatre" and of the long wedge-shaped valley, appears to be perfectly level, and, as regards the central portion of the latter, without visible detail. under morning illumination i have, however, frequently seen something resembling a ridge partially crossing "the neck," and, near sunset, a tongue of rock jutting out from the e. flank of the constriction, and extending nearly from side to side. at the base of the cliff bordering the valley on the s.w., five or six little circular pits have been noted, some of which appear to have rims. they were seen very perfectly with powers of 350 and 400 on an 8 1/2 inch calver reflector at 8 h. on january 25, 1885, and have been observed, but less perfectly, on subsequent occasions. the most northerly is about 10 miles from the n.w. end of the formation, and the rest occur at nearly regular intervals between it and "the neck." in the neighbourhood of the valley, on either side, there are several bright craters. three stand near the n.e. edge, and one of considerable size near the n.w. end on the opposite side. a winding cleft crosses the valley about midway, which, strange to say, is not shown in the maps, though it may be seen in a 4 inch achromatic. it originates apparently at a bright triangular mountain on the plain s.w. of the valley, and, after crossing the latter somewhat obliquely, is lost amid the mountains on the opposite side. that portion of it on the bottom of the valley is easily traceable under a high light as a white line. the region n. of the alps on the s.w. side of the valley presents many details worthy of examination. among them, parallel rows of little hills, all extending from n.w. to s.e. there is also a number of still smaller objects of the same type on the e. side. the great alpine valley, though first described by schroter, is said to have been discovered on september 22, 1727, by bianchini, but it is very unlikely that an object which is so prominent when near the terminator was not often remarked before this. archytas.--a bright ring-plain, 21 miles in diameter, on the edge of the mare frigoris, due n. of the alpine valley, with regular walls rising about 5000 feet above the interior on the n.w., and about 4000 feet on the opposite side. it has a very bright central mountain. several spurs radiate from the wall on the s., and a wide valley, flanked by lofty heights, forming the s.w. boundary of w.c. bond, originates on the n side. there is also a crater-rill running towards the n.w. on the mare, s.w. of archytas, is a somewhat smaller ring-plain, archytas a (called by schmidt, protagoras), with lofty walls and a central hill. christian mayer.--a prominent rhomboidal-shaped ring-plain, 18 miles in diameter, associated on every side, except the n., with a number of irregular inconspicuous enclosures. it has a central peak. madler discovered two delicate short clefts, both running from n.w. to s.e., one on the w. and the other on the e. of this formation. w.c. bond.--a great enclosed plain of rhomboidal shape on the n. of archytas, the bright ring-plain timaeus standing near its e. corner, and another conspicuous but much smaller enclosure with a smaller crater w. of it on the floor at the opposite angle. the interior, which is covered with rows of hillocks, is very noteworthy at sunrise. barrow.--there are few more striking or beautiful objects at sunrise than this, mainly because of the peculiar shape of its brilliant border and the remarkable shadows of the lofty peaks on its western wall. there is a notable narrow gap in the rampart on the w., which appears to extend to the level of the floor. the walls, especially on the s., are very irregular, and include two large deep craters and some minor depressions. if the formation is observed when its e. wall is on the morning terminator, a fine view is obtained of the remarkable crater-row which winds round the n. side of goldschmidt. barrow is about 40 miles in diameter. according to schmidt, there is one crater in the interior, a little s.e. of the centre. scoresby.--a much fore-shortened deep ring-plain, 36 miles in diameter, between barrow and the limb. it has a central mountain with two peaks, which are very difficult to detect. challis.--a ring-plain adjoining scoresby on the n.e. it is of about the same size and shape. main.--a very similar formation, on the n. of the last, much too near the limb to be well observed. second quadrant east longitude 0 deg. to 20 deg. murchison.--a considerable ring-plain about 35 miles across on the e., where it abuts on pallas. it is a pear-shaped formation, bounded on the n. by a mountainous region, and gradually diminishes in width towards the s.e., on which side it is open to the plain. the walls are of no great altitude, but, except on the n.w., are very bright. at the s. termination of the w. wall there is an exceedingly brilliant crater, murchison a, five miles in diameter and some 3000 feet deep; adjoining which on the n.w. is an oval depression and a curious forked projection from the border. the only objects visible in the interior are a few low ridges on the e. side, and a number of long spurs running out from the wall on the n. towards the centre of the floor. murchison a is named chladni by lohrmann. pallas.--a fine ring-plain, about 32 miles in diameter, forming with murchison an especially beautiful telescopic object under suitable illumination. its brilliant border, broken by gaps on the w., where it abuts on murchison, has a bright crater on the n.e., from which, following the curvature of the wall, and just below its crest, runs a valley in an easterly direction. there is a large bright central mountain on the floor, with a smaller elevation to the s. of it, and a ridge extending from the n. wall to near the centre. on the w., a section of the border is continued in a n. direction far beyond the limits of the formation; and on the s. it is connected with a small incomplete ring; on the e. of which, near the foot of the wall, is a somewhat smaller and much duskier enclosure. bode.--a brilliant ring-plain, 9 miles in diameter, situated on the n. side of pallas. its walls rise about 5000 feet above the interior, which is considerably depressed, and includes, according to schmidt and webb, a mountain or ridge. there are two parallel valleys on the w., which are well worth examination. sommering.--an incomplete ring-plain, 17 miles in diameter, situated on the lunar equator. it has rather low broken walls and a dark interior. schroter.--a somewhat larger formation, with a border wanting on the s. schmidt draws a considerable crater on the s.w. side of the floor. it was in the region north of this object, which abounds in little hills and low ridges, that in the year 1822 gruithuisen discovered a very remarkable formation consisting of a number of parallel rows of hills branching out (like the veins of a leaf from the midrib) from a central valley at an angle of 45 deg., represented by a depression between two long ridges running from north to south. the regularly arranged hollows between the hills and the longitudinal valley suggested to his fertile imagination that he had at last found a veritable city in the moon--possibly the metropolis of kepler's _subvolvani_, who were supposed to dwell on that hemisphere of our satellite which faces the earth. at any rate, he was firmly convinced that it was the work of intelligent beings, and not due to natural causes. this curious arrangement of ridges and furrows, which, according to webb, measures about 23 miles both in length and breadth, is, owing to the shallowness of the component hills and valleys, a very difficult object to see in its entirety, as it must be viewed when close to the terminator, and even then the sun's azimuth and good definition do not always combine to afford a satisfactory glimpse of its ramifications. m. gaudibert has given a drawing of it in the _english mechanic_, vol. xviii. p. 638. gambart.--a regular ring-plain, 16 miles in diameter, with a low border and without visible detail within; situated nearly on the lunar equator, about 130 miles s.s.w. of copernicus, at the n.w. edge of a very hilly region. a prominent pear-shaped mountain, with a small crater upon it, stands a short distance on the s.w., and further in the same direction, a large bright crater with two much smaller craters on the n. of it. the rough hilly district about midway between copernicus and gambart is remarkable for its peculiar dusky tone and for certain small dark spots, first seen by schmidt, and subsequently carefully observed by dr. klein. the noteworthy region where these peculiar features are found represents an area of many thousand square miles, and must resemble a veritable _malpais_, covered probably with an incalculable number of craters, vents, cones, and pits, filled with volcanic _debris_. it is among details of this character that the true analogues of some terrestrial volcanoes must be looked for. under a low angle of illumination the surface presents an extraordinarily rough aspect, well worthy of examination, but the dusky areas and the black spots can only be satisfactorily distinguished under a somewhat high sun. i have, however, seen them fairly well when the w. wall of reinhold was on the morning terminator. marco polo.--a small and very irregularly-shaped enclosure (difficult to see satisfactorily) on the s. flank of the apennines. it is hemmed in on every side by mountains. eratosthenes.--a noble ring-plain, 38 miles in diameter; a worthy termination of the apennines. the best view of it is obtained under morning illumination when the interior is about half-filled with shadow. at this phase the many irregular terraces on the inner slope of the e. wall (which rises at one peak 16,000 feet above an interior depressed 8000 feet below the mare imbrium) are seen to the best advantage. the central mountain is made up of two principal peaks, nearly central, from which two bright curved hills extend nearly up to the n.w. wall,--the whole forming a v-shaped arrangement. on the s. there is a narrow break in the wall, and the s.w. section of it seems to overlap and extend some distance beyond the s.e. section. the border on the s.w. is remarkable for the great width of its _glacis_. eratosthenes exhibits a marked departure from circularity, especially on the e., where the wall consists of two well-marked linear sections, with an intermediate portion where the crest for 20 miles or more bends inwards or towards the centre. from the s.e. flank of this formation extends towards the w. side of stadius one of the grandest mountain arms on the moon's visible surface, rising at one place 9000 feet, and in two others 5000 and 3000 feet respectively above the mare imbrium. if this magnificent object is observed when the morning terminator falls a little e. of stadius, it affords a spectacle not easily forgotten. i have often seen it at this phase when its broad mass of shadow extended across the well-known crater-row w. of copernicus, some of the component craters appearing between the spires of shade representing the loftiest peaks on the mountain arm. there is a prominent little crater on the crest of the arm between two of the peaks, and another on the plain to the west. stadius.--an inconspicuous though a very interesting formation, 43 miles in diameter, w. of copernicus, with a border scarcely exceeding 200 feet in height. hence it is not surprising that it was for a long time altogether overlooked by madler. except as a known object, it is only traceable under very oblique illumination, and even then some attention is required before its very attenuated wall can be followed all round. it is most prominent on the w., where it apparently consists of a s. extension of the eratosthenes mountain-arm, and is associated with a number of little craters and pits. this is succeeded on the s.w. by a narrow strip of bright wall, and on the s. by a section made up of a piece of straight wall and a strip curving inwards, forming the s. side. on the e. the border assumes a very ghostly character, and appears to be mainly defined by rows of small depressions and mounds. on the n.e., n., and n.w. it is still lower and narrower; so much so, that it is only for an hour or so after sunrise or before sunset that it can be traced at all. on every side, with the exception of the curved piece on the s., the wall consists of linear sections. the interior contains a great number of little craters and very low longitudinal mounds. ten craters are shown in beer and madler's map. schmidt only draws fifteen, though in the text accompanying his chart he says that he once counted fifty. in the monograph published in the _journal_ of the liverpool astronomical society (vol. v. part 8), forty-one are represented. they appear to be rather more numerous on the s. half of the floor than elsewhere. just beyond the limits of the border on the n., is a bright crater with a much larger obscure depression on the w. of it. the former is surrounded by a multitude of minute craters and crater-cones, which are easily seen under a low sun. though almost every trace of stadius disappears under a high light, i have had little difficulty in seeing portions of the border and some of the included details when the morning terminator had advanced as far as the e. wall of herodotus, and the site was traversed by innumerable light streaks radiating from copernicus. at this phase the bright crater, just mentioned, on the n. edge of the border was tolerably distinct. copernicus.--this is without question the grandest object, not only on the second quadrant, but on the whole visible superficies of the moon. it undoubtedly owes its supremacy partly to its comparative isolation on the surface of a vast plain, where there are no neighbouring formations to vie with it in size and magnificence, but partly also to its favourable position, which is such, that, though not central, is sufficiently removed from the limb to allow all its manifold details to be critically examined without much foreshortening. there are some other formations, langrenus and petavius, for example, which, if they were equally well situated, would probably be fully as striking; but, as we see it copernicus is _par excellence_ the monarch of the lunar ring-mountains. schmidt remarks that this incomparable object combines nearly all the characteristics of the other ring-plains, and that careful study directed to its unequalled beauties and magnificent form is of much more value than that devoted to a hundred other objects of the same class. it is fully 56 miles in diameter, and, though generally described as nearly circular, exhibits very distinctly under high powers a polygonal outline, approximating very closely to an equilateral hexagon. there are, however, two sections of the crest of the border on the n.e. which are inflected slightly towards the centre, a peculiarity already noticed in the case of eratosthenes. the walls, tolerably uniform in height, are surmounted by a great number of peaks, one of which on the w., according to neison, stands 11,000 feet above the floor, and a second on the opposite side is nearly as high. both the inner and outer slopes of this gigantic rampart are very broad, each being fully 10 miles in width. the outer slope, especially on the e., is a fine object at sunrise, when its rugged surface, traversed by deep gullies, is seen to the best advantage. the terraces and other features on the bright inner declivities on this side may be well observed when the sun's altitude is about 6 deg. schmidt, whose measures differ from those of neison, estimates the height of the wall on the e. to be 12,000 feet, and states that the interior slopes vary from 60 deg. to 50 deg. above, to from 10 deg. to 2 deg. at the base. the first inclination of 50 deg., and in some cases of 60 deg., is confined to the loftiest steep crests and to the flanks of the terraces. there are apparently five bright little mountains on the floor, the most easterly being rather the largest, and a great number of minute hillocks on the s.e. quarter. s.w. of the centre is a little crater, and on the same side of the interior a curious hook-shaped ridge, projecting from the foot of the wall, and extending nearly halfway across the floor. the region surrounding copernicus is one of the most remarkable on the moon, being everywhere traversed by low ridges, enclosing irregular areas, which are covered with innumerable craterlets, hillocks, and other minute features, and by a labyrinth of bright streaks, extending for hundreds of miles on every side, and varying considerably both in width and brilliancy. the notable crater-row on the w., often utilised by observers for testing the steadiness of the air and the definition of their telescopes, should be examined when it is on the morning terminator, at which time webb's homely comparison, "a mole-run with holes in it," will be appreciated, and its evident connection with the e. side of stadius clearly made out. there is another much more delicate row running closely parallel to this object; it lies a little w. of it, and extends farther in a northerly direction. archimedes.--next to plato the finest object on the mare imbrium. it is about 50 miles in diameter. the average height of its massive border is about 4000 feet above the interior, which is only depressed some 500 or 600 feet below the mare, the highest peak (about 7000 feet) being on the s.e. the walls are terraced, and include much detail, both within and without. the most noteworthy features in connection with this formation are the crater-cones, craterlets, pits, white spots, and light streaks which figure on the otherwise smooth interior. mr. t.p. gray, f.r.a.s., of bedford, who, with praiseworthy assiduity, has devoted more than ten years to the close scrutiny of these features, mr. stanley williams, and others, have detected four crater-cones on the e. half of the floor, and about fifty minute craters and white spots, also probably volcanic vents, and a very curious and interesting series of light streaks, mostly traversing the formation from e. to w. a little e. of the centre is a dusky oval area about 6 miles across, and s.w. of this is another, much smaller. under some conditions of illumination the two principal light markings may be traced over the w. wall, and for some distance on the plain beyond. on the southern side of archimedes is a very rugged mountain region, extending for more than 100 miles towards the south: on the w. of this originates a remarkable rill-system, best seen under evening illumination. the two principal clefts follow a nearly parallel course up to the face of the apennines near mount bradley, crossing in their way, almost at right angles, other clefts which run at no great distance from the e. foot of this range and ramify among the outlying hills. archimedes a is a brilliant little ring-plain on the s.e. of archimedes. it casts an extraordinary shadow at sunrise, and has a well-marked crater-row on the e. of it, and two long narrow valleys, one of which appears to be a southerly extension of the row. beer.--a very bright little crater, with an unnamed formation of about the same size adjoining it on the n., with which is associated a curious winding ridge that appears to traverse a gap in its n. wall. timocharis.--a fine ring-plain, 23 miles in diameter (the centre of a minor ray-system). it stands isolated on the mare imbrium (below the level of which it is depressed some 3000 feet), about midway between archimedes and lambert. its walls, rising about 7000 feet above the floor, are conspicuously terraced, and on their w. outer slopes exhibit some remarkable depressions. there is a distinct break on the n., and a bright little crater on the n.w., connected with the foot of the _glacis_ by a prominent ridge. on the bright central mountain, schmidt, in 1842, detected a crater, which is easily seen under a moderately high light. timocharis and the neighbourhood, especially the peculiar shape of the terminator on the e. of the formation, is well worth examination at sunrise. piazzi smyth.--a conspicuous little ring-plain, 5 or 6 miles in diameter, depressed about 1500 feet below the mare imbrium, with a border rising about 2000 feet above it. with the curious arrangement of ridges, of which it is the apparent centre, it is a striking object under a low sun. kirch.--a rather smaller object of the same class on the s.e. plato.--this beautiful walled-plain, 60 miles in diameter, with its bright border and dark steel-grey floor, has, from the time of hevelius to the present, been one of the most familiar objects to lunar observers. in the rude maps of the seventeenth century it figures as the "lacus niger major," an appellation which not inaptly describes its appearance under a high sun, when the sombre tone of its apparently smooth interior is in striking contrast to that of the isthmus on which the formation stands. it will repay observation under every phase, and though during the last thirty years no portion of the moon has been more diligently scrutinised than the floor; the neighbourhood includes a very great number of objects of every kind, which, not having received so much attention, will afford ample employment to the possessor of a good telescope during many lunations. the border of plato, varying in height from 3000 to 4000 feet above the interior, is crowned by several lofty peaks, the highest (7400 feet) standing on the n. side of the curious little triangular formation on the e. wall. those on the w., three in number, reckoning from n. to s., are respectively about 5000, 6000, and 7000 feet in altitude above the floor. the circumvallation being very much broken and intersected by passes, exhibits many distinct breaches of continuity, especially on the s. there is a remarkable valley on the s.w., which, cutting through the border at a wide angle, suddenly turns towards the s.e., and descends the slope of the _glacis_ in a more attenuated form. another but shorter valley is traceable at sunrise on the w. on the n.w., the rampart is visibly dislocated, and the gap occupied by an intrusive mountain mass. this dislocation is not confined to the wall, but, under favourable conditions, may be traced across the floor to the broken s.e. border. it is probably a true "fault." on the n.e., the inner slope of the wall is very broad, and affords a fine example of a vast landslip. the spots and faint light markings on the floor are of a particularly interesting character. during the years 1869 to 1871 they were systematically observed and discussed under the auspices of the lunar committee of the british association. among the forty or more spots recorded, six were found to be crater-cones. the remainder--or at least most of them--are extremely delicate objects, which vary in visibility in a way that is clearly independent of libration or solar altitude; and, what is also very suggestive, they are always found closely associated with the light markings,--standing either upon the surface of these features or close to their edges. recent observations of these spots with a 13 inch telescope by professor w.h. pickering, under the exceptionally good conditions which prevail at arequipa, peru, have revived interest in the subject, for they tend to show that visible changes have taken place in the aspect of the principal crater-cones and of some of the other spots since they were so carefully and zealously scrutinised nearly a quarter of a century ago. the gradual darkening of the floor of plato as the sun's altitude increases from 20 deg. till after full moon may be regarded as an established fact, though no feasible hypothesis has been advanced to account for it. on the n.e. of plato is a large bright crater, a; and, extending in a line from this towards the e., is a number of smaller rings, the whole group being well worth examination. on the n. there is a winding cleft, and some short crossed clefts in the rugged surface just beyond the foot of the wall, which i have seen with a 4 inch achromatic. the region on the w., imperfectly shown in the maps, includes much unrecorded detail. on the mare imbrium s. of plato is a large area enclosed by low ridges, to which schroter gave the name "newton." it suggests the idea that it represents the ruin of a once imposing enclosure, of which the conspicuous mountain pico formed a part. timaeus.--a very bright ring-plain, 22 miles in diameter, with walls about 4500 feet in height, on the coast-line of the mare frigoris, and associated with the e. side of the great enclosed plain w.c. bond. schmidt shows a double hill, nearly central, and neison a crater on the s.w. wall. birmingham.--a large rhomboidal-shaped enclosure, defined by mountain chains and traversed by a number of very remarkable parallel ridges. it is situated nearly due n. of plato on the n. edge of the mare frigoris, and lies on the s.e. side of w.c. bond, to which it bears a certain resemblance. this region is characterised by the parallelism displayed by many formations, large and small. it is more apparent hereabouts than in any other part of the moon's visible surface. when favourably placed under a low morning sun, birmingham is a striking telescopic object. fontinelle.--a fine ring-plain, 23 miles in diameter, on the n. margin of the mare frigoris, n.n.e. of plato, with a wall rising on the e., 6000 feet above a bright interior. i find its border indistinct and nebulous, excepting under very oblique light, though three of the little craters upon it are bright and prominent. one stands on the s., another on the n.w., and a third on the e. schmidt shows only the first of these, and neison none of them. fontinelle has a low central mountain which is easily distinguished. fontinelle a, an isolated mountain on the s., is more than 3000 feet high. on the n. there is a curious mountain group, also of considerable altitude, and on the w. an irregular depression surrounded by a dusky area. north of fontinelle, extending towards goldschmidt and the limb, schroter discovered a very wide irregular valley which he named "j.j. cassini." it is really nothing more than a great plain bounded by ridges. at 9 h. october 15, 1888, when philolaus was on the morning terminator, i had a fine view of it, and, as regards its general shape, found that it agreed very closely with schroter's drawing. epigenes.--a remarkable ring-plain, about 26 miles in diameter, abutting on a mountain ridge running parallel to the e. flank of w.c. bond. it is a notable object under a low morning sun. there are several elevations on the floor. goldschmidt.--a great abnormally-shaped enclosure with lofty walls between epigenes and the limb. neison mentions only two crater-pits within. i have seen the rimmed crater shown by schmidt on the w. side and three or four other objects of a doubtful kind. anaxagoras.--a brilliant ring-plain of regular form, 32 miles in diameter, adjoining goldschmidt on the e. it is a prominent centre of light streaks, some of which traverse the interior of goldschmidt. on the north a peak rises to the height of 10,000 feet. there is a long ridge on the floor, running from e. to w. gioja.--a ring-plain about 26 miles in diameter, near the north pole. east longitude 20 deg. to 40 deg. reinhold.--a prominent ring-plain, 31 miles in diameter, with a lofty border, rising at a peak on the w. to more than 9000 feet above the floor. its shape on the w. is clearly polygonal, the wall consisting of three rectilineal sections, and on the e. it is made up of two straight sections connected by a curved section. the inner slope includes a remarkably distinct and regular terrace, the e. portion of which is well seen when the interior is about half illuminated by the rising sun. at this phase also the great extent of the _glacis_ on the s.w., and the deep wide gullies traversing it on the e. are observed to the best advantage. the central mountain, though of considerable size, is not prominent. close to reinhold on the n.w. stands a noteworthy little formation with a low and partially lineal wall, exhibiting a gap on the north. there is a distinct crater on the s. side of its floor. gay-lussac.--a very interesting ring-plain, 15 miles in diameter, situated in the midst of the carpathian highlands n. of copernicus, with a smaller but brighter and deeper formation (gay-lussac a) on the s.w. of it, and a conspicuous little crater, not more than 2 or 3 miles in diameter, between the two. the interior of gay-lussac is traversed by two coarse clefts, lying nearly in a meridional direction. the more easterly runs from the foot of the s. wall, near the little crater just mentioned, across the floor to the low n. border, which it apparently cuts through, and extends for some distance beyond, terminating in a great oval expansion. the other, which is not shown in the maps, is closely parallel to it, and can be traced up to the n. border, but not farther. schmidt represents the first as a crater-row, which it probably is, as it varies considerably in width. from the s.e. side of the formation extends a long cleft, terminating at the end of a prominent spur from the s. side of the carpathians. there are also two remarkable rill-like valleys, commencing on the n. of gay-lussac a, which curve round the w. side of gay-lussac. hortensius.--this brilliant crater, about 10 miles in diameter, is remarkable for its depth, and as being a ray-centre surrounded by a nimbus of light. it has a central mountain, and schmidt shows a minute crater on the outer slope of the s. wall. the former is a test object. milichius.--is situated on the n.n.e. of hortensius. it is fully as bright, but rather smaller. its floor, apparently devoid of detail, is considerably depressed below the surrounding surface. tobias mayer.--like gay-lussac, a noteworthy ring-plain associated with the carpathian mountains. it is 22 miles in diameter, and has a wall which rises on the w. to a height of nearly 10,000 feet above the floor; on the latter there is a conspicuous central mountain, and on the e. side a crater, and some little hills. schmidt shows a smaller crater on the w. side, which i have not seen. adjoining the formation on the w. is a ringplain of about one-fourth its area, which is a bright object. tobias mayer and the neighbouring carpathians form an especially beautiful telescopic picture at sunrise. kunowsky.--an inconspicuous ring-plain, about 11 miles in diameter, standing in a barren region in the mare procellarum, w.s.w. of encke. the central mountain is tolerably distinct. encke.--a regular ring-plain, 20 miles in diameter, with a comparatively low border, nowhere rising more than 1800 feet above the interior, which is depressed some 1000 feet below the surrounding oceanus procellarum. a lofty ridge traverses the floor from s. to n., bifurcating before it reaches the n. wall. there is a bright crater on the w. wall, and a depression on the opposite wall, neither of which, strange to say, is shown on the maps. encke is encircled by ridges, which, when it is on the morning terminator, combine to make it resemble a large crater surrounded by a vast mountain ring. kepler.--one of the most brilliant objects in the second quadrant,--a ring-plain about 22 miles in diameter, with a lofty border; a peak on the e. attaining an altitude of 10,000 feet above the surface. the wall is much terraced, especially the outer slope on the w., where a narrow valley is easily traceable. though omitted from the maps, there is a prominent circular depression on the w. border, which forms a distinct notch thereon at sunrise. on the n., the wall exhibits a conspicuous gap. there is a central hill on the floor. immediately e. of kepler is a bright plateau, bounded on the n. by a very straight border, with two small craters on its edge. both these objects are incomplete on the n., as if they had been deformed by a "fault," which has apparently affected the n. end of kepler also. kepler is the centre of one of the most extended systems of bright streaks on the moon's visible surface. bessarion.--a bright little ring-plain, about 6 miles in diameter, in the oceanus procellarum n. of kepler. there is a smaller and still brighter companion on the n. (bessarion e), standing on a light area. bessarion has a minute central hill, difficult to detect. pytheas.--a small rhomboidal-shaped ring-plain, 12 miles in diameter, standing in an isolated position on the mare imbrium between lambert and gay-lussac. its bright walls, rising about 2500 feet above the mare, are much terraced within, especially on the e. there is a bright little crater on the n. outer slope, with a short serpentine ridge running up to it from the region s. of lambert, and another winding ridge extending from the s. wall to the e. of two conspicuous craters, standing about midway between pytheas and gay-lussac. the former bears a great resemblance to the ridge n. of madler, and, like this, appears to traverse the n. border. the interior of pytheas, which is depressed more than 2000 feet below the mare, includes a brilliant central peak. lambert.--a ring-plain, 17 miles in diameter, presenting many noteworthy features. the crest of its border stands about 2000 feet above the mare imbrium, and more than double this height above the interior. the wall is prominently terraced both within and without; the outer slope on the w. exhibiting at sunrise a nearly continuous valley running round it. when near the morning terminator, the region on the n. is seen to be traversed by some very remarkable ridges and markings; one cutting across the n. wall appears to represent a "fault." on the s. is a large polygonal enclosure formed by low ridges. on the w., towards timocharis, is a brilliant mountain 3000 feet high, a beautiful little object under a low sun. leverrier.--the more westerly of a pair of little ring-plains on the n. side of the mare imbrium, and s.w. of the laplace promontory. it is about 10 miles in diameter, with walls rising some 1500 feet above the mare, and more than 6000 feet above the interior, which seems to be without a central mountain or other features. schmidt shows the crater on the n. rim and another on the s.e. slope, both of which are omitted by neison, though they are easy objects when helicon is on the morning terminator. about 20 miles on the s.e. there is a very bright little crater on a faint light area. helicon.--the companion ring-plain on the e. it is 13 miles in diameter, and is very similar, though not quite so deep. there is a crater on the s.e. wall, and, according to neison, another on the outer slope of the n. border. webb records a central crater. if helicon is observed when on the morning terminator, it will be seen to be traversed by a curved ridge which cuts through the walls, and runs up to a bright crater s.e. of leverrier. it appears to be a "fault," whose "downthrow," though slight, is clearly indicated by an area of lower ground on the e. there is a great number of small craters in the neighbourhood of this formation. euler.--the most easterly of the row of great ring-plains, which, beginning on the w. with autolycus, and followed by archimedes, timocharis, and lambert, extends almost in a great circle from the n.w. to the s.e. side of the mare imbrium. it is about 19 miles in diameter, and is surrounded by terraced walls, which, though of no great height above the mare, rise 6000 feet above the floor. there is a distinct little gap in the s. wall, easily glimpsed when it is close to the morning terminator, which probably represents a small crater. euler has a bright central mountain, and is a centre of white silvery streaks. brayley.--a very conspicuous little ring-plain e.s.e. of euler, with two smaller but equally brilliant objects of the same class situated respectively e. and w. of it. diophantus.--forms with delisle, its companion on the n., a noteworthy object. it is about 13 miles in diameter, with a wall, which has a distinct break in its continuity on the n., rising about 2500 feet above the mare. a rill-valley runs from the e. side of the ring towards the w. face of a triangular-shaped mountain on the e. of a line joining the formation with delisle. north are three bright little craters in a line, the middle one being much the largest. from the most easterly of these objects a light streak may be traced under a high sun, extending for many miles to another small crater on the n.w. of diophantus, and expanding at a point due n. of the formation into a spindle-shaped marking. at sunrise, the w. portion of the streak has all the appearance of a cleft, with a branch about midway running to the s. side of delisle. under the same phase a broad band of shadow extends from the n.e. wall to the triangular mountain just mentioned, representing a very sudden drop in the surface--resembling on a small scale the well-known "railroad" e. of thebit. diophantus has no central mountain. delisle.--a larger and more irregularly-shaped object than the last, 16 miles in diameter, with loftier and more massive walls, and an extensive but ill-defined central hill. there is an evident break in the northern border. a triangular mountain on the s.e. and a winding ridge running up to the n. wall are prominent features at sunrise, as are also the brilliant summits of a group of hills some distance to the e.n.e. carlini.--a small but prominent and deep little crater about 5 miles in diameter on the mare imbrium about midway between lambert and the sinus iridum. there are many faint light streaks in the vicinity, one of which extends from carlini to bianchini, on the edge of the sinus,--a distance of 300 miles. schmidt shows a central peak. caroline herschel.--a bright and very deep ring-plain about 8 miles in diameter on the mare imbrium, some distance e.n.e. of the last. on the s.e. lies a larger crater, delisle b, which has a small but obvious crater on its n. rim, and casts a very prominent shadow at sunrise. caroline herschel stands on a long curved ridge running n.e. from lambert towards the region e. of helicon, and, according to schmidt, has a central peak. on the e. is a bright mountain with two peaks; some distance n. of which is a large ill-defined white spot, with another spot of a similar kind on the w. of it, nearly due n. of caroline herschel. gruithuisen.--this ring-plain, 10 miles in diameter, is situated on the mare imbrium on the n.e. of delisle. it is associated with a number of ridges trending towards the region n. of aristarchus and herodotus. the laplace promontory.--a magnificent headland marking the extreme western extremity of the finest bay on the moon's visible surface, the sinus iridum; above which it towers to a height of 9000 feet or more, projecting considerably in front of the line of massive cliffs which define the border of the sinus, and presenting a long straight face to the s.e. near its summit are two large but shallow depressions, the more easterly having a very bright interior. at a lower level, almost directly below the last, is a third depression. all three are easy objects under a low sun. the best view of the promontory and its surroundings is obtained when the e. side of the bay is on the morning terminator. its prominent shadow is traceable for many days after sunrise. the heraclides promontory.--the less lofty but still very imposing headland at the e. end of the sinus iridum, rising more than 4000 feet above it. it consists of a number of distinct mountains, forming a triangular-shaped group running out to a point at the s.w. extremity of the bay, and projecting considerably beyond the shore-line. there is a considerable crater on the e. side of the headland, not visible till a late stage of sunrise. it is among the mountains composing this promontory that some ingenuity and imagination have been expended in endeavouring to trace the lineaments of a female face, termed the "moonmaiden." bianchini.--a fine ring-plain, about 18 miles in diameter, on the n.e. side of the sinus iridum, surrounded by the lofty mountains defining the border of the bay. its walls, which are prominently terraced within, rise about 7000 feet on the e., and about 8000 feet on the w. above the floor, which includes a prominent ridge and a conspicuous central mountain. there is a distinct crater on the s. wall, not shown in the maps. between this side of the formation and the bay is a number of hills running parallel to the shore-line: these, with the intervening valleys, will repay examination at sunrise. maupertuis.--a great mountain enclosure of irregular shape, about 20 miles in diameter, in the midst of the sinus iridum highlands, n. of laplace. the walls are much broken by passes, and the interior includes many hills and ridges. condamine.--a rhomboidal-shaped ring-plain, about 23 miles in diameter, n. of maupertuis, with lofty walls, especially on the e., where they rise some 4000 feet above the interior. there are three large depressions on the outer n.w. slope, and at least three minute craters on the crest of the wall just above. though neither neison nor schmidt draw any detail thereon, there is a prominent ridge on the n. side of the floor, and a low circular hill on the s. on the s.e. four long ridges or spurs radiate from the wall, and on the n.e. are three remarkable square-shaped enclosures. on the edge of the mare frigoris, n.w. of condamine, are many little craters with bright rims and a distinct short cleft, running parallel to the coast-line. the winding valleys in the region bordering the sinus iridum, and other curious details, render this portion of the moon's surface almost unique. bouguer.--a bright regular little ring-plain, about 8 miles in diameter, n. of bianchini. j.f.w. herschel.--a vast enclosed plain, about 90 miles across, bounded on the w. by a mountain range, which here defines the e. side of the mare frigoris, on the s. by massive mountains, and on the other sides by a lofty but much broken wall, intersected by many passes. within is a large ring-plain, nearly central, and a large number of little craters and crater-pits. the floor is traversed longitudinally by many low ridges, lying very close together, which at sunrise resemble fine grooves or scratches of irregular width and depth. horrebow.--a ring-plain of remarkable shape, resembling the analemma figure, standing at the s. end of the mountain range bounding j.f.w. herschel on the w. schmidt shows a crater on the w. wall, near the constriction on this side, and a second at the foot of the slope of the e. wall. philolaus.--a ring-plain 46 miles in diameter, on the n.e. of fontinelle. its bright walls rise on the w. to a height of nearly 12,000 feet above the floor (on which there is a conspicuous central mountain), and exhibit many prominent terraces. philolaus is partially encircled, at no great distance, by a curved ridge, on which will be found a number of small craters. anaximines.--a much foreshortened ring-plain, about 66 miles in diameter, on the e. of philolaus. one peak on the e. is nearly 8000 feet in height. schmidt shows four craters on the w. side of the floor, and a fifth on the s.e. side. there is a bright streak in the interior, which extends southwards for some distance across the mare frigoris. east longitude 40 deg. to 60 deg. reiner.--a regular ring-plain, 21 miles in diameter, in the mare procellarum, s.s.e. of marius, with a very lofty border terraced without and within, and a minute but conspicuous mountain standing at the n. end of a ridge which traverses the uniformly dark floor in a meridional direction. a long ridge extends some way towards the s. from the foot of the s. wall, and at some distance in the same direction lie six illdefined white spots of doubtful nature. on the e.n.e. there is a large white marking, resembling a "jew's harp" in shape, and farther on, towards the e., a number of very remarkable ridges. on the w. will be found many bright little craterlets. a ray from kepler extends almost up to the w. wall of reiner. marius.--a very noteworthy ring-plain, 27 miles in diameter, in the oceanus procellarum, e.n.e. of kepler, with a bright border rising about 4000 feet above the interior, which is of an uneven tone. the rampart exhibits some breaks, especially on the s. the outer slope on the w. is traversed by a fine deep valley, distinctly marked when the opposite side is on the morning terminator. it originates on the s.w. at a prominent crater situated a little below the crest of the wall, and, following its curvature, runs out on to the plain near a large mountain just beyond the foot of the n. border. in addition to the crater just mentioned, there are two smaller ones below the summit of the s. wall, and a small circular depression on the s.e. wall. mr. w.h. maw, f.r.a.s., has seen, with a 6 inch cooke refractor, a bright marking at the n. extremity of the ring, which, when examined with a dawes' eyepiece, resembled an imperfect crater. the floor includes at least four objects--(1) a crater on the n.w., standing on a circular light area; (2) a white spot a little s. of the centre; (3) a smaller white spot s.e. of this; (4) another, near the inner foot of the s.w. wall. marius is an imposing object under oblique illumination, mainly because of the number of ridges by which it is surrounded. i have frequently remarked at sunrise that the surface on the w., and especially the outer slope of the rampart, is of a decided brown or sepia tint, similar to that which has already been noticed with respect to geminus and its vicinity, viewed under like conditions. schmidt in 1862 discovered a long serpentine cleft some distance n. of marius, which has not been seen since. aristarchus.--the brightest object on the moon, forming with herodotus (a companion ring-plain on the e.), and its remarkable surroundings, one of the most striking objects which the telescope has revealed on the visible surface, and one requiring much patient observation before its manifold details can be fully noted and duly appreciated. its border rises 2000 feet above the outer surface on the w., but towers to more than double this height above the glistening floor. no lunar object of its moderate dimensions (it is only about 29 miles in diameter) has such conspicuously terraced walls, or a greater number of spurs and buttresses; which are especially prominent on the s. a valley runs round the outer slope of the w. wall, very similar to that found in a similar position round marius. there is also a distinct valley on the brilliant inner slope of the e. wall, below its crest. it originates at a bright little crater, and is traceable round the greater portion of the declivity. under a moderately high sun, an oval area, nearly as large and fully as brilliant as the central mountain, is seen on this inner slope. it is bordered on either side by bands of a duskier hue, which probably represent shallow transverse valleys. from its dazzling brilliancy it is very difficult to observe the interior satisfactorily. in addition, however, to the central mountain, there is a crater on the n.w. side of the floor. on the s. side of aristarchus is a large dusky ring some 10 miles in diameter, connected by ridges with the spurs from the wall, and on the s.e., close to the foot of the slope, is another smaller ring of a like kind. herodotus.--this far less brilliant but equally interesting object is about 23 miles in diameter, and is not so regular in shape as aristarchus. its w. wall rises at one point more than 4000 feet above the very dusky floor. except on the s.w. and n.e., the border is devoid of detail. on the s.w. three little notches may be detected on its summit, which probably represent small craters, while on the opposite side, on the inner slope, a little below the crest, is a large crater, easily seen. both the e. and w. sections of the wall are prolonged towards the s. far beyond the limits of the formation. these rocky masses, with an intermediate wall, are very conspicuous under oblique illumination, that on the s.w. being especially brilliant. on the n. there is a gap through which the well-known serpentine cleft passes on to the floor. between the n.w. side of herodotus and aristarchus is a large plateau, seen to the best advantage when the morning terminator lies a little distance e. of the former. it is traversed by a t-shaped cleft which communicates with the great serpentine cleft and extends towards the s. end of aristarchus, till it meets a second cleft (forming the upper part of the t) running from the s.e. side of this formation along the w. side of herodotus. the great serpentine cleft, discovered by schroter, october 7, 1787, is in many respects the most interesting object of its class. it commences at the n. end of a short wide valley, traversing mountains some distance n.e. of herodotus, as a comparatively delicate cleft. after following a somewhat irregular course towards the n.w. for about 50 miles, and becoming gradually wider and deeper, it makes a sudden turn and runs for about 10 miles in a s.w. direction. it then changes its course as abruptly to the n.w. again for 3 or 4 miles, once more turns to the s.w., and, as a much coarser chasm, maintains this direction for about 20 miles, till it reaches the s.e. edge of a great mountain plateau n. of aristarchus, when it swerves slightly towards the s., becoming wider and wider, up to a place a few miles n. of herodotus, where it expands into a broad valley; and then, somewhat suddenly contracting in width, and becoming less coarse, enters the ring-plain through a gap in the n. wall, as before mentioned. i always find that portion of the valley in the neighbourhood of herodotus more or less indistinct, though it is broad and deep. this part of it, unless it is observed at a late stage of sunrise, is obscured by the shadow of the mountains on the border of the plateau. gruithuisen suspected a cleft crossing the region embraced by the serpentine valley, forming a connection between its coarse southern extremity and the long straight section. this has been often searched for, but never found. it may exist, nevertheless, for in many instances gruithuisen's discoveries, though for a long time discredited, have been confirmed. the mountain plateau n. of aristarchus deserves careful scrutiny, as it abounds in detail and includes many short clefts. harbinger, mountains.--a remarkable group of moderate height, mostly extending from the n.w. towards aristarchus. they include a large incomplete walled-plain about 30 miles in diameter, defined on the w. by a lofty border, forming part of a mountain chain, and open to the south. this curious formation has many depressions in connection with its n.w. edge. on the n. of it there is a crater-row and a very peculiar zig-zag cleft. the region should be observed when the e. longitude of the morning terminator is about 45 deg. schiaparelli.--a conspicuous formation, about 16 miles in diameter, between herodotus and the n.e. limb, with a border rising nearly 2000 feet above the mare, and about 1000 more above the floor, on which schmidt shows a central hill. wollaston.--a small bright crater on the mare n. of the harbinger mountains, surpassed in interest by a remarkable formation a few miles s. of it, wollaston b, an object of about the same size, but which is associated with a much larger enclosure, resembling a walled-plain, lying on the n. side of it. this formation has a lofty border on the w., surmounted by two small craters. the wall is lower on the e. and exhibits a gap. there is a central hill, only visible under a low sun. about midway between wollaston and this enclosure stands a small isolated triangular mountain. from a hill on the e. runs a rill valley to the more westerly of a pair of craters, connected by a ridge, on the s.e. of wollaston b. mairan.--a bright ring-plain of irregular shape, 25 miles in diameter, on the e. of the heraclides promontory. the border, especially on the e., varies considerably in altitude, as is evident from its shadow at sunrise; at one peak on the w. it is said to attain a height of more than 15,000 feet above the interior. there is a very minute crater on the crest of the s. wall, down the inner slope of which runs a rill-like valley. about halfway down the inner face of the e. wall are two other small craters, connected together by a winding valley. these features may be seen under morning illumination, when about one-fourth of the floor is in sunlight. schroter is the only selenographer who gives mairan a central mountain. in this he is right. i have seen without difficulty on several occasions a low hill near the centre. the formation is surrounded by a number of conspicuous craters and crater-pits. on the n. there is a short rill-like valley, and another, much coarser, on the s. sharp.--a ring-plain somewhat smaller than the last, on the e. of the sinus iridum, from the coast-line of which it is separated by lofty mountains. there is a distinct crater at the foot of its n.e. wall, and a bright central mountain on the floor. on the n. is a prominent enclosure, nearly as large as sharp itself; and on the n.e. a brilliant little ringplain, a, about 8 miles in diameter, connected with sharp, as madler shows, by a wide valley. louville.--a triangular-shaped formation on the e. of a line joining mairan and sharp. it is hemmed in by mountains, one of which towers 5000 feet above its dusky floor. foucault.--a bright deep ring-plain, about 10 miles in diameter, lying e. of the mountains fringing the sinus iridum, between bianchini and harpalus. a very lofty peak rises near its n. border, and, according to neison, it has a distinct central mountain, though neither madler or schmidt show any detail within. harpalus.--a conspicuous ring-plain, about 14 miles in diameter, on the n.e. of the last, with a floor sinking 13,000 feet below the surrounding surface. as the cubic contents of the border and _glacis_ are quite inadequate to account for it, we may ask, what has become of the material which presumably once filled this vast depression? harpalus has a bright central mountain. south.--on the w. and s., the boundaries of this extensive enclosure are merely indicated by ridges, which nowhere attain the dignity of a wall. on the n., the edge of a tableland intersected by a number of valleys define its limits, and on the e. a border forming also the w. side of babbage. the interior is traversed by a number of longitudinal hills, and includes two bright little heights, drawn by schmidt as craters. babbage.--a still larger enclosed area, adjoining south on the e., and containing a considerable ring-plain near its w. border. it is a fine telescopic object at sunrise, the interior being crossed by a number of transverse markings representing ridges. these are very similar in character (but much coarser) to those found on the floor of j.f.w. herschel. the curious detail on the e. wall is also worth examination at this phase. robinson.--a bright and very deep little ring-plain, about 12 miles in diameter, on a plateau n. of south. schmidt shows a crater on the w. border, and two others at the foot of the n. and e. borders respectively. anaximander.--a fine but much foreshortened ring-plain, 39 miles in diameter, abutting on the e. side of j.f.w. herschel. it has a large crater on its w. border, which is common to the two formations, and a very prominent crater, both on the s. and n. the barrier on the s.w. rises to a height of nearly 10,000 feet. schmidt shows a crater and other details on the floor. east longitude 60 deg. to 90 deg. lohrmann.--this ring-plain, with hevel and cavalerius on the n. of it, is a member of a linear group, which, but for its propinquity to the limb, would be one of the most imposing on the moon's surface. lohrmann, about 28 miles in diameter, is surrounded by a bright wall, which, to all appearance, is devoid of detail. two prominent ridges, with a fine intervening valley, connect it with the n. end of grimaldi. it has a large but not conspicuous central mountain. on the rugged surface, between the ring-plain and the e. edge of the oceanus procellarum, lies a very interesting group of crossed clefts, some of which run from n.e. to s.w., and others from n.w. to s.e. three of the latter proceed from different points in a coarse valley extending from w. to e., and cross the ridges just mentioned. they follow a parallel course, and terminate on the s. side of a crater-row, consisting of three bright craters ranging in a line parallel to the coarse valley. on the n. side of these objects, and tangential to them, is another cleft, which traverses the w. and e. walls of lohrmann, and, crossing the region between it and riccioli, terminates apparently at the w. wall of the latter formation. no map shows this cleft, though it is obvious enough; and, when the e. wall of hevel is on the morning terminator, the notches made by it in the border of lohrmann are easily detected. capt. noble, f.r.a.s., aptly compares two of the crossed clefts to a pair of scissors, the craters at which they terminate representing the oval handles. on the grey surface of the mare w. of lohrmann is the bright crater lohrmann a, from which, running n., proceeds a rill-like valley ending at a large white spot, which has a glistening lustre under a high light. hevel.--a great walled-plain, 71 miles in diameter, adjoining lohrmann on the n., with a broad western rampart, rising at one peak to a height above the interior of nearly 6000 feet, and presenting a steep bright face to the oceanus procellarum. there are three prominent craters near its crest, and one or two breaks in its continuity. it is not so lofty and is more broken on the e., where three conspicuous craters stand on its inner slope. the floor is slightly convex, and includes a triangular central mountain, on which there is a small crater. the s. half of the interior is crossed by four clefts: (l) running from a little crater n. of the central mountain, on the w. side of it, to a hill at the foot of the s.w. wall; (2) originating near the most southerly of the three craters on the inner slope of the e. wall, and crossing 1, terminates at the foot of the w. wall; (3) has the same origin as 2, crosses 1, and, passing over a craterlet w. of the central mountain, also runs up to the w. wall at a point considerably n. of that where 2 joins the latter; (4) runs from the craterlet just mentioned to the w. end of 2. cavalerius.--the most northerly member of the linear chain, a ring-plain, 41 miles in diameter, with terraced walls rising about 10,000 feet above the floor. within there is a long central mountain with three peaks. under a high light the region on the w. is seen to be crossed by broad light streaks. olbers.--a large ring-plain, 41 miles in diameter, near the limb, n.e. of cavalerius. though a very distinct formation, it is difficult to see its details except under favourable conditions of libration. it has a large crater on its w. wall, a smaller one on the e., and a third on the n. the floor includes a central mountain, and, according to schmidt, four craters. he also shows a crater-rill on the w. wall, n. of the large crater thereon. olbers is the origin of a fine system of light rays. galileo.--a ring-plain, about 9 miles in diameter, n.e. of reiner, associated with ridges, some of which extend to the "jew's harp" marking referred to under this formation. cardanus.--a fine regular ring-plain, about 32 miles in diameter, near the limb n. of olbers. its bright walls, rising about 4000 feet above the light grey floor, are clearly terraced, and exhibit, especially on the s.e., several spurs and buttresses. there is a fine valley on the outer w. slope, a large bright crater on the mare just beyond its foot, and a conspicuous mountain in the same position farther north. i have not succeeded in seeing the faint central hill nor the crater n. of it shown by schmidt, but there is a brilliant white circular spot on the floor at the inner foot of the n.e. wall which he does not show. krafft.--a very similar object on the n., of about the same dimensions; with a central peak, and a large crater on the dark floor abutting on the s.w. wall, and another of about half the size on the outer side of the w. border. from this crater a very remarkable cleft runs to the n. wall of cardanus: it is bordered on either side by a bright bank, and cuts through the n.w. border of the latter formation. it is best seen when the e. wall of cardanus is on the morning terminator. vasco de gama.--a bright enclosure, 51 miles in diameter, with a small central mountain. it is associated on the n. with a number of enclosed areas of a similar class, all too near the limb to be well seen. seleucus.--a considerable ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, with lofty terraced walls, rising 10,000 feet above a dark floor which includes an inconspicuous central hill. this formation stands on a ridge extending from near briggs to the w. side of cardanus. otto struve.--an enormous enclosure, bounded on the e. by the hercynian mountains, and on the w. by a mountain chain of considerable altitude, surmounted by three or more bright little rings. on the w. side of the uneven-toned interior, which, according to madler, includes an area of more than 26,000 square miles, stand four craters, several little hills, and light spots. on the w. is the much more regular and almost as large formation, otto struve a, the w. border of otto struve forming its e. wall. this enclosure is bounded elsewhere by a very low, broken, and attenuated barrier. at sunrise the e. and w. walls, with the mountain mass at the n. end, which they join, resemble a pair of partially-opened calipers. there is one conspicuous little crater on the w. side of the floor; and, at or near full moon, four or five white spots, nearly central, are prominently visible. briggs.--this bright regular ring-plain, 33 miles in diameter, is situated a short distance n. of otto struve a. a long ridge traverses the interior from n. to s. on the e. is another large enclosure, communicating with otto struve on the s., and really forming a n. extension of this formation. it has a large and very deep crater, 12 miles in diameter, on its w. border. lichtenberg.--a conspicuous little ring-plain, about 12 miles in diameter, in an isolated position on the mare, some distance n. of briggs. it was here that madler records having occasionally noticed a pale reddish tint, which, though often searched for, has not been subsequently seen. ulugh beigh.--a good-sized ring-plain, e. of the last, with a bright border and central mountain. too near the limb for observation. lavoisier.--a small bright walled-plain n. of ulugh beigh. it has a somewhat dark interior. west of it is lavoisier a, a ring-plain about 14 miles in diameter. both are too near the limb for useful observation. gerard.--a large enclosure close to the limb, still farther n., containing a long ridge and a crater. harding.--a small ring-plain w. of gerard, remarkable for the peculiar form of its shadow at sunrise, and for the ridges in its vicinity. repsold.--the largest of a group of walled enclosures, close to the limb, on the e. side of the sinus roris. xenophanes.--but for its position, this deep walled-plain, 185 miles in diameter, would be a fine telescopic object, with its lofty walls, large central mountain, and other details. oenopides.--a large and tolerably regular walled-plain, 43 miles in diameter, on the w. of the last. the depressions on the w. wall are worth examination at sunrise. there is apparently no detail whatever on the floor. cleostratus.--a small ring-plain, n. of xenophanes, surrounded by a number of similar objects, all too near the limb for observation. pythagoras.--a noble walled-plain, 95 miles in diameter, which no one who observes it fails to lament is not nearer the centre of the disc, as it would then undoubtedly rank among the most imposing objects of its class. even under all the disadvantages of position, it is by far the most striking formation in the neighbourhood. its rampart rises, at one point on the n., to a height of nearly 17,000 feet above the floor, on which stands a magnificent central mountain, familiar to most observers. third quadrant east longitude 0 deg. to 20 deg. mosting.--a very deep ring-plain, 15 miles in diameter, near the moon's equator, and about 6 deg. e. of the first meridian. there is a crater on the n. side of its otherwise unbroken bright border, an inconspicuous central mountain, and, according to neison, a dark spot on the s. side of the floor. at some distance on the s.s.w., stands the bright crater, mosting a, one of the most brilliant objects on the moon's visible surface. reaumur.--a large pentagonal enclosure, about 30 miles in diameter, with a greatly broken border, exhibiting many wide gaps, situated on the e. side of the sinus medii, n.w. of herschel. the walls are loftiest on the s. and s.w., where several small craters are associated with them. a ridge connects the formation with the great deep crater reaumur a, and a second large enclosure lying on the w. side of the well-known valley w. of herschel. at the end of a spur on the s. side of the great crater originates a cleft, which i have often traced to the n.w. wall of ptolemaeus, and across the n. side of the floor of this formation to a crater on the n.e. quarter of it, ptolemaeus _d_. there is a short cleft on the w. side of the floor of reaumur, running from n. to s. herschel.--a typical ring-plain, situated just outside the n. border of ptolemaeus, with a lofty wall rising nearly 10,000 feet above a somewhat dusky floor, which includes a prominent central mountain. its bright border is clearly terraced both within and without, the terraces on the inner slope of the w. wall being beautifully distinct even under a high light, and on the outer slope are some curious irregular depressions. on the s.s.e. is a large oblong deep crater, close to the rocky margin of ptolemaeus, and a little beyond the foot of the wall on the n.w. is a smaller and more regular rimmed depression, _b_, standing near the e. border of the great valley, more than 80 miles long, and in places fully 10 miles wide, which runs from s.s.w. to n.n.e. on the w. side of herschel, and bears a close resemblance to the well-known ukert valley. herschel _d_ is a large but shallow ring-plain on the e. of herschel, with a brilliant but smaller crater on the w. of it. north of herschel, on a plateau concentric with its outline, stands the large polygonal ring-plain herschel _a_, a formation of a very interesting character, with a low broken wall, exhibiting many gaps, and including some craters of a minute class. the largest of these stands on the s.w. wall. mr. w.h. maw has detected some of these objects on the n. side, both in connection with the border and beyond it. flammarion.--a large incomplete walled-plain n.e. of herschel, open towards the n., with a border rising about 3000 feet above the floor. the brilliant crater, mosting a, stands just outside the wall on the e. ptolemaeus.--taking its very favourable position into account, this is undoubtedly the most perfect example of a walled-plain on the moon's visible superficies. it is the largest and most northerly component of the fine linear chain of great enclosures, which extend southwards, in a nearly unbroken line, to walter. it exhibits a very marked departure from circularity, the outline of the border approximating in form to a hexagon with nearly straight sides. it includes an area of about 9000 square miles, the greatest distance from side to side being about 115 miles. it is, in fact, about equal in size to the counties of york, lancashire, and westmorland combined; and were it possible for one to stand near the centre of its vast floor, he might easily suppose that he was stationed on a boundless plain; for, except towards the west, not a peak, or other indication of the existence of the massive rampart would be discernible; and even in this direction he would only see the upper portion of a great mountain on the wall. the border is much broken by gaps and intersected by passes, especially e. and s., where there are several valleys connecting the interior with that of alphonsus. the loftiest portion of the wall, which includes many crateriform depressions, is on the w., where one peak rises to nearly 9000 feet. another on the n.e. is about 6000 feet above the interior. on the n.w. is a remarkable crater-row, called, from its discoverer, "webb's furrow," running from a point a little n. of a depression on the border to a larger crateriform depression on the s. of hipparchus k. birt terms it "a very fugitive and delicate lunar feature." as regards the vast superficies enclosed by this irregular border, it is chiefly remarkable for the number of large saucer-shaped hollows which are revealed on its surface under a low sun. they are mostly found on the eastern quarter of the floor. some of them appear to have very slight rims, and in two or three instances small craters may be detected within them. owing to their shallowness, they are very evanescent, and can only be glimpsed for an hour or so about sunrise or sunset. the large bright crater a, about 4 miles in diameter on the n.w. side of the interior, is by far the most conspicuous object upon it. adjoining it on the n. is a large ring with a low border, and n. of this again is another, extending to the wall. mr. maw and mr. mee have seen minute craters on the borders of these obscure formations. in addition to the objects just specified, there is a fairly conspicuous crater, _d_, on the n.e. quarter of the floor, and a very large number of others distributed on its surface, which is also traversed by a network of light streaks, that have recently been carefully recorded by mr. a.s. williams. a cleft, from near reaumur a, traverses the n. side of the floor, and runs up to ptolemaeus _d_. alphonsus.--a large walled-plain, 83 miles in diameter, with a massive irregular border abutting on the s.s.e. side of ptolemaeus, and rising at one place on the n.w. to a height of 7000 feet above the interior. the floor presents many features of interest. it includes a bright central peak, forming part of a longitudinal ridge, on either side of which runs a winding cleft, originating at a crater-row on the n. side of the interior. there is a third cleft on the n.w. side, and a fourth near the foot of the e. wall. there are also three peculiar dark areas within the circumvallation; two, some distance apart, abutting on the w. wall, and a third, triangular in shape, at the foot of the e. wall. the lastmentioned cleft traverses this patch. these dusky spots are easily recognised in good photographs of the moon. alpetragius.--a fine object, 27 miles in diameter, closely connected with the s.e. side of alphonsus. it has peaks on the w. towering 12,000 feet above the floor, on which there is an immense central mountain, which in extent, complexity, and altitude surpasses many terrestrial mountain systems--as, for example, the snowdonian group. the massive barrier between alpetragius and alphonsus deserves careful scrutiny, and should be examined under a moderately low morning sun. on the e., towards lassell, stands a brilliant light-surrounded crater. arzachel.--another magnificent object, associated on the n. with alphonsus, about 66 miles in diameter, and encircled by a massive complex rampart, rising at one point more than 13,000 feet above a depressed floor. it presents some very suggestive examples of terraces and large depressions, the latter especially well seen on the s.e. the bright interior includes a large central mountain with a digitated base on the s.e., some smaller hills on the s. of it, a deep crater w. of it (with small craters n. and s.), and, between the crater and the foot of the w. wall, a very curious winding cleft. lassell.--this ring-plain, some 14 miles in diameter, is irregular both as regards its outline and the width of its rampart. there is a crater on the crest of the n.w. wall, just above a notable break in its continuity through which a ridge from the n.w. passes. there is another crater on the opposite side. the central mountain is small and difficult to see. about 20 miles n.e. of lassell is a remarkable mountain group associated with a bright crater, and further on in the same direction is a light oval area, about 10 miles across, with a crater (alpetragius _d_) on its s. edge. madler described this area as a bright crater, 5 miles in diameter, which now it certainly is not. lalande.--a very deep ring-plain, about 14 miles in diameter, n.e. of ptolemaeus, with bright terraced walls, some 6000 feet above the floor, which contains a low central mountain. on the n. is the long cleft running, with some interruptions, in a w.n.w. direction towards reaumur. davy.--a deep irregular ring-plain, 23 miles across, on the mare e. of alphonsus. there is a deep crater with a bright rim on its s.w. wall, and e. of this a notable gap. there is also a wide opening on the n. the e. wall is of the linear type. a cleft crosses the interior. guerike.--the most southerly member of a remarkable group of partially destroyed walled-plains, standing in an isolated position in the mare nubium. its border, on the w. and n. especially, is much broken, and never rises much more than 2000 feet above the mare, except at one place on the n., where there is a mountain about 1000 feet higher. the e. wall is tolerably continuous, but is of a very abnormal shape. on the s. there is a peculiar lambda-shaped gap (with a bright crater, and another less prominent on the e. side of it), the narrowest part of which opens into a long wide winding valley, bounded by low hills, extending to the w. side of a bright ring-plain, guerike b, on the s.e. a crater-chain occupies the centre of this valley. there is much detail within guerike. a large deep bright crater stands under the e. border on a mound, which, gradually narrowing in width, extends to the n. wall; and a rill-like valley runs from the n. border towards the e. side of the lambda-shaped gap. in addition to these features, there is a shallow rimmed crater, about midway between the extremities of the rill-valley, and several minor elevations on the floor. on the broken n. flank of guerike is a number of incomplete little rings, all open to the n.; and e. of these commences a linear group of lofty isolated mountain masses extending towards the w. side of parry, and prolonged for 30 miles or more towards the north. they are arranged in parallel rows, and remind one of a druidical avenue of gigantic monoliths viewed from above. they terminate on the s. side of a large bright incomplete ring (with a lofty w. wall), connected with the w. side of parry. parry.--a more complete formation than guerike. it is about 25 miles in diameter, and is encompassed by a bright border, which, at a point on the e., is nearly 5000 feet in height. it is intersected on the n. by passes communicating with the interior of fra mauro. there is a crater, nearly central, on the dusky interior, which, under a low sun, when the shadows of the serrated crest of the w. wall reach about half-way across the floor, appears to be the centre of three or four concentric ridges, which at this phase are traceable on the e. side of it. there is a conspicuous crater on the e. wall, below which originates a distinct cleft. this object skirts the inner foot of the e. border, and after traversing the n. wall, strikes across the wide expanse of fra mauro, and is ultimately lost in the region n. of this formation. parry a, s. of parry, is a very deep brilliant crater with a central hill and surrounded by a glistening halo. a cleft, originating at a mountain arm connected with the e. side of guerike, runs to the s. flank of this object, and is probably connected with that which skirts the floor of parry on the e. bonpland.--a ruined walled-plain with a low and much broken wall, which on the s.w. appears to be an attenuated prolongation of that of parry. it is of the linear type, the formation approximating in shape to that of a pentagon. the floor is crossed from n. to s. by a fine cleft which originates at a crater beyond the s. wall, and is visible as a light streak under a high light. schmidt shows a short cleft on the w. of this. fra mauro.--a large enclosure of irregular shape, at least 50 miles from side to side, abutting on parry and bonpland. in addition to the cleft which crosses it, the floor is traversed by a great number of ridges, and includes at least seven craters. thebit.--a fine ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, on the mountainous w. margin of the mare nubium, n.e. of purbach. its irregular rampart is prominently terraced, and its continuity on the n.e. interrupted by a large deep crater (thebit a), at least 9 miles in diameter, which has in its turn a smaller crater, of about half this size, on its margin, and a small central mountain within, which was once considered a good optical test, though it is not a difficult object in a 4 inch achromatic, if it is looked for at a favourable phase. the border of thebit rises at one place on the n.w. to a height of nearly 10,000 feet above the interior, which includes much detail. the e. wall of thebit a attains the same height above its floor, which is depressed more than 5000 feet below the mare. birt.--this ring-plain, about 12 miles in diameter, is situated on the mare nubium, some distance due e. of thebit. it has a brilliant border, surmounted by peaks rising more than 2000 feet above the mare, and a very depressed floor, which does not appear to contain any visible detail. a bright crater adjoins it on the s.w., the wall of which at the point of junction is clearly very low, so that under oblique light the two interiors appear to communicate by a narrow pass or neck filled with shadow. i have frequently seen a break in the n.w. wall of birt, which seems to indicate the presence of a crater. there is a noteworthy cleft on the e., which can be traced from the foot of the e. wall to the hills on the n.e. it is a fine telescopic object, and, under some conditions, the wider portion of it resembles a railway cutting traversing rising ground, seen from above. it is visible as a white line under a high light. the straight wall.--sometimes called "the railroad," is a remarkable and almost unique formation on the w. side of birt, extending for about 65 miles from n.e. to s.w. in a nearly straight line, terminating on the south at a very peculiar mountain group, the shape of which has been compared to a stag's horn, but which perhaps more closely resembles a sword-handle,--the wall representing the blade. when examined under suitable conditions, the latter is seen to be slightly curved, the s. half bending to the west, and the remainder the opposite way. the formation is not a ridge, but is clearly due to a sudden change in the level of the surface, and thus has the outward characteristics of a "fault" along the upper edge of this gigantic cliff (which, though measures differ, cannot be anywhere much less than 500 feet high) i have seen at different times many small craterlets and mounds. near its n. end is a large crater, and on the w. is a row of hillocks, running at right angles to the cliff. no observer should fail to examine the wall under a setting sun when the nearly perpendicular e. face of the cliff is brilliantly illuminated. nicollet.--a conspicuous little ring-plain on the e. of birt, and somewhat smaller. between the two is a still smaller crater, from near which runs a low mountain range, nearly parallel to the straight wall, to the region s.e. of the stag's horn mountains. here will be found three small light-surrounded craters arranged in a triangle, with a somewhat larger crater in the middle. purbach.--an immense enclosure of irregular shape, approximating to that of a rhomboid with slightly curved sides. it is fully 60 miles across, and the walls in places exceed 8000 feet in altitude, and include many depressions, large and small. on the e. inner slope are some fine terraces and several craters. the continuity of the circumvallation is broken on the n. by a great ring-plain, on the floor of which i have seen a prominent cleft and a crater near the s. side. there is a large bright crater in the interior of purbach, s. of the centre, two others on the w. half of the floor, and a few ridges. regiomontanus.--a still more irregular walled-plain, of about the same area, closely associated with the s. flank of purbach, having a rampart of a similar complex type, traversed by passes, longitudinal valleys, and other depressions. schmidt alone shows the especially fine example of a crater-row, which is not a difficult object, in connection with the s.e. wall. excepting one crater, nearly central, and some inconspicuous ridges, i have seen no detail on the floor. schmidt, however, records many features. walter.--a great rhomboidal walled-plain, 100 miles in diameter, with a considerably depressed floor, enclosed by a rampart of a very complex kind, crowned by numerous peaks, one of which, on the w., rises 10,000 feet above the interior. if the formation is observed when it is close to the morning terminator, say, when the latter lies from l deg. to 2 deg. e. of the centre of the floor, it is one of the most striking and beautiful objects which the lunar observer can scrutinize. the inner slope of the border which abuts on regiomontanus, examined at this phase under a high power, is seen to be pitted with an inconceivable number of minute craters; and the summit ridge, and the region towards werner, scalloped in a very extraordinary way, the engrailing (to use an heraldic term) being due to the presence of a row of big depressions. the floor at this phase is sufficiently illuminated to disclose some of its most noteworthy features. taking its area to be about 8000 square miles, at least 1200 square miles of it is occupied by the central mountain group and its adjuncts, the highest peak rising to a height of nearly 5000 feet (or nearly 600 feet higher than ben nevis), above the interior, and throwing a fine spire of shadow thereon. in the midst of this central boss are two deep craters, one being about 10 miles in diameter, and a number of shallower depressions. in association with the loftiest peak, i noted at 8 h., march 9, 1889, two brilliant little craters, which presumably are not far from the summit. near the e. corner of the floor there is another large deep crater, and, ranging in a line from the centre to the s.e. wall, three smaller craters. lexell.--on the e. of walter extends an immense plain of irregular outline, which is at least equal to it in area. though no large formation is found thereon; many ridges, short crater-rows, and ordinary craters figure on its rugged superficies; and on its borders stand some very noteworthy objects, among them, on the s., the walled-plain lexell, about 32 miles in diameter, which presents many points of interest. its irregular wall, rising, at one point on the s.w., to a height of nearly 8000 feet, is on the n.w. almost completely wanting, only very faint indications of its site being traceable, even under a low morning sun. on the opposite side it is boldly terraced, and has a large crater on its summit. the interior, the tone of which is conspicuously darker than that of the region outside, contains a small central hill, with two craters connected with it. the low n.w. margin is traversed by a delicate valley, which, originating on the n. side of the great plain, crosses the w. quarter of lexell and terminates apparently on the s.w. side of the floor. hell.--a prominent ring-plain, about 18 miles in diameter, on the e. side of the great plain. there is a central mountain and many ridges within. ball.--a somewhat smaller ring-plain on the s.e. edge of the great plain, with a lofty terraced border and a central mountain more than 2000 feet high. there are two large irregular depressions on the w. of the formation, a crater on the s., and a smaller one on the n. wall. pitatus.--this remarkable object, 58 miles in diameter, with hesiodus, its companion on the e., situated at the extreme s. end of the mare nubium, afford good examples of a class of formations which exhibit undoubted signs of partial destruction, from some unknown cause, on that side of them which faces the mare. on every side but the n., pitatus is a walled plain of an especially massive type, the border on the s.e. furnishing one of the finest examples of terraces to be found on the visible surface. on the s.w., two parallel rows of large crateriform depressions, perhaps the most remarkable of their kind, extend for 60 miles or more to the w. flank of gauricus. on the n.w., the rampart includes many curious irregular depressions and craters, and gradually diminishes in height, till, for a space of about 12 miles on the n., there can hardly be said to be any border at all, its site being marked by some inconsiderable mounds and shallow hollows. there is a small bright central mountain on the floor, and, s. of it, two larger but lower elevations. a distinct straight cleft traverses the n.w. side of the interior very near the wall, to which it forms an apparent chord, and a second cleft occupies a similar position with respect to the bright n.e. border. a narrow pass forms a communication with the interior of hesiodus. hesiodus.--this walled-plain, little more than half the diameter of the last, has an irregular outline, and for the most part linear walls, which on the s. are massive and lofty (4000 feet), but on the n. very low, and broken by gaps. there is a fine deep crater on the s. border, and a small but distinct crater on the floor, nearly central, the only object thereon which i have seen, though schmidt draws a smaller one on the w. of it. a mountain abutting on the n.e. side of hesiodus is the w. origin of one of the longest clefts on the moon. running in an e.s.e. direction, it traverses the mare to a crater near the w. face of the cichus mountain arm, reappears on the e. side of this object, and is finally lost amid the hills on the n. of capuanus. the w. section of this cleft is coarser and much more distinct than that lying e. of the mountain arm. gauricus.--a large walled-plain s. of pitatus, about 40 miles in diameter. the border is very irregular, and, according to neison, consists on the e. of a precipitous cliff more than 9000 feet high. it is surrounded by a number of large rings on the s., and has several considerable small depressions on its n. border. there is apparently no prominent detail on the floor. schmidt shows some ridges and craterlets. wurzelbauer.--another irregular walled-plain, about 50 miles in diameter, on the s.e. of pitatus, with a very complex border, in connection with which, on the s.w., is a group of fine depressions, and on the s.e. a large crater. there is much detail on the very uneven floor. miller.--one of a group of three moderately large ring-plains, of which nasireddin is a member, near the central meridian in s. latitude 39 deg. its massive border rises nearly 11,000 feet above the floor, on which stands a central peak. miller is about 36 miles in diameter. nasireddin.--a somewhat smaller ring-plain on the s. of the last, and of a very similar type. it contains a central peak and several minor elevations. between its n.w. border and the s.w. flank of miller is a smaller ring-plain of about half the size of nasireddin, and on the s.e. a large enclosure named huggins. orontius.--huggins has encroached on the w. side of this irregular ringplain and overlaps it. it is of considerable size. the floor includes much detail and a prominent crater. sasserides.--a formation of irregular shape, with very lofty walls, situated amid the confusion of ring-plains, craters, crater-pits, &c., in the region n. of tycho, some of which are fully as deserving of a distinct name. heinsius.--a very curious formation on the n.e. of tycho: a fine telescopic object under oblique illumination. it has an irregular but continuous border, except on the s., where two large ring-plains have encroached upon it, and a third, n. of a line joining their centres, occupies no inconsiderable portion of the floor. heinsius is nearly 50 miles across, and the border on the w., is nearly 9000 feet above the interior, which includes, at least, three small craters. the walls of the intrusive ring-plains have craters on their summits; the more westerly has two on the w., and its companion, one on the s.w. the ring-plain on the floor has a crater on its e. wall. schmidt shows a small crater between the ring-plains on the s. border. saussure.--a ring-plain w. of tycho, 28 miles in diameter, with bright lofty terraced walls and a somewhat dark interior, on which there is a crater, w. of the centre, and some crater-pits. there are several large depressions on the s.w. wall. it is surrounded by formations which, though nearly as prominent as itself, have not, with the exception of pictet on the e., and one on the n.w., called huggins by schmidt, received distinctive names. the region w. of saussure abounds in craterlets, some of which are of the minutest type. one of the tycho streaks is manifestly deflected from its course by this formation, and another is faintly traceable on the floor. pictet.--a walled-plain of irregular shape, about 30 miles across, between saussure and tycho, with a border broken on the s. by a large conspicuous ring-plain, which is at least 10 miles in diameter, and, according to schmidt, has a central mountain. schmidt draws the s.e. border of pictet as broken by ridges extending on to the floor. he also shows several craters and minor elevations thereon. tycho.--as the centre from which the principal bright ray-system of the moon radiates, and the most conspicuous object in the southern hemisphere, this noble ring-plain may justly claim the pre-eminent title of "the metropolitan crater." it is more than 54 miles in diameter, and its massive border, everywhere traversed by terraces and variegated by depressions within and without, is surmounted by peaks rising both on the e. and w. to a height of about 17,000 feet above the bright interior, on which stands a magnificent central mountain at least 5000 feet in altitude. were it not somewhat foreshortened, tycho would be seen to deviate considerably from what is deemed to be the normal shape. on the s. and w. especially, the wall approximates to the linear type, no signs of curvature being apparent where these sections meet. the crest on the s. and s.e. exhibits many breaks and irregularities; and it is through a narrow gap on the s. that a rill-like valley, originating at a small depression near the foot of the s.w. _glacis_, passes, and, descending the inner slope of the s.e. wall obliquely, terminates near its foot. there is a distinct crater on the summit ridge on the s.e., and another below the crest on the outer s.w. slope. on the s. inner slope i have often remarked a number of bright oval objects, which, for the lack of a better word, may be termed "mounds" though they represent masses of material many miles in length and breadth. the outer slope of tycho, exhibiting under a high light a grey nimbus encircling the wall, includes--craters, crater-pits, shallow valleys, spurs and buttresses--in short, almost every variety of lunar feature is represented. excepting the central mountain and a crater on the w. of it, i have not seen any object on the floor, which, for some unexplained reason, is never very distinct. schmidt shows several low ridges on the n.e. side. in a paper recently published in the _astronomische nachrichten_, professor w.h. pickering, describing his observations of the tycho streaks made at arequipa, peru, with a 13 inch achromatic, asserts that they do not radiate from the centre of tycho, but from a multitude of minute craters on its s.e. or n. rim. (see introduction.) maginus.--an immense partially ruined enclosure, at least 100 miles from side to side, on the s.w. of tycho, from which it is separated by a region covered with a confused mass of ring-plains and craters. on almost every part of its broken border stand large ring-plains, many of which, if they were isolated, or situated in a less disturbed region, would rank as objects of importance; but among such a multitude of features they pass unnoticed. the largest of them occupies no inconsiderable part of the s.e. wall, and is quite 30 miles in diameter, its own border being also much broken by depressions, as, indeed, are those of almost all the six or more large ring-plains which define the n. limits of maginus. the loftiest portion of what remains of a true border rises at one place to more than 14,000 feet. on the floor, which is traversed by some of the tycho rays, there is a mountain group associated with a crater, nearly central, and several large rings on the n. side. though the formation is very difficult to detect under a high sun, madler's dictum that "the full moon knows no maginus" is not strictly true. street.--a walled-plain between tycho and maginus, about 28 miles in diameter, with a border of moderate height, broken by depressions on the n. there are some small craters and ridges within; but the surrounding region, with its almost endless variety of abnormally shaped formations, is far more worthy of the observer's attention. deluc.--the largest and most prominent member of a curious group of ringplains on the s.w. of maginus. it is about 28 miles in diameter, and is encircled by a wall some 7000 feet above the interior, which includes a crater. a large ring with a central mountain encroaches on the n. wall, and a smaller object of the same class on the s. wall. clavius.--there are few lunar observers who have not devoted more or less attention to this beautiful formation, one of the most striking of telescopic objects. however familiar we may consider ourselves to be with its features, there is always something fresh to note and to admire as often as we examine its apparently inexhaustible details. it is 142 miles from side to side, and includes an area of at least 16,000 square miles within its irregular circumvallation, which is only comparatively slightly elevated above the bright plateau on the w., though it stands at least 12,000 feet above the depressed floor. at a point on the s.w. a peak rises nearly 17,000 feet above the interior, while on the e. the cliffs are almost as lofty. there are two remarkable ring-plains, each about 25 miles in diameter, associated, one with the n., and the other with the s. wall, the floors of both abounding in detail. the latter, however, is the most noteworthy on account of the curious corrugations visible soon after sunrise on the outer n. slope of its wall, resembling the ribbed flanks of some of the java volcanoes. there are five large craters on the floor of clavius, following a curve convex to the n., and diminishing in size from w. to e. the most westerly stands nearly midway between the two large ring-plains on the walls, the second (about twothirds its area) is associated with a complex group of hills and smaller craters. both these objects have central mountains. in addition to this prominent chain, there are innumerable craters of a smaller type on the floor, but they are more plentiful on the s. half than elsewhere. on the s.e. wall are three very large depressions. on the broad massive n.e. border, the bright summit ridge and the many transverse valleys running down from it to the floor, are especially interesting features. there are very clear indications of "faulting" on a vast scale where this broad section of the wall abuts on the n. side of the formation. cysatus.--a regular walled-plain, apparently about 28 miles in diameter, forming the most northerly member of a chain of formations, of which newton, short, and moretus, extending towards the s. limb, form a part. its border rises nearly 13,000 feet above a floor devoid of prominent detail. gruemberger.--a much larger and more irregular ring-plain, nearly 40 miles from wall to wall, on the e. side of cysatus. its w. border rises nearly 14,000 feet above the interior, which includes an abnormally deep crater, the bottom of which is 20,000 feet below the crest of the w. wall, and several small depressions and ridges. the inner e. slope is finely terraced. moretus.--a magnificent object, 78 miles in diameter, but foreshortened into a flat ellipse. its beautifully terraced walls and magnificent central mountain, nearly 7000 feet high, are very conspicuous under suitable conditions. the rampart on the e. is more than 15,000 feet above the floor, while on the opposite side it is about 5000 feet lower. short.--a fine but foreshortened ring-plain of oblong shape, squeezed in between moretus and newton. it is about 30 miles in diameter, and on the s.e., where its border and that of newton are in common, it rises nearly 17,000 feet above the interior, which includes, according to neison, a small central hill. schmidt shows a crater on the n. side of the floor. newton.--is situated on the s.e. side of short, and is the deepest walled-plain on the visible surface. it is of irregular form and about 143 miles in extreme length. one gigantic peak on the e. rises to nearly 24,000 feet above the floor, the greater part of which is always immersed in shadow, so that neither the earth or sun can at any time be seen from it. malapert.--a ring-plain situated far too near the limb for useful observation. between it and newton is a number of abnormally shaped enclosures. cabeus.--another object out of the range of satisfactory scrutiny. madler considered that it is as deep as newton. according to neison, a central peak and two craters can be seen within under favourable conditions. schmidt draws a long row of great depressions on the n. side of it. east longitude 20 deg. to 40 deg. landsberg.--a ring-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, situated in mare nubium, s.e. of reinhold, which in many respects it resembles. its regular massive border is everywhere continuous. only a solitary crater breaks the uniformity of its crest, that rises on the w. to nearly 10,000 feet, and on the e. to about 7000 feet above the floor, which is depressed about 7000 feet below the surrounding surface. the inner slopes exhibit some fine terraces, and on the broad w. _glacis_ is a curious winding valley, which runs up the slope from the s.w. side to the crater just mentioned, then, bending downwards, joins the plain at the foot of the n. wall. neither this nor the crater is shown in the maps. the large compound central peak is apparently the sole object in the interior. at 8 h. 25 m. on january 23, 1888, when observing the progress of sunrise on this formation with a 8 1/2 inch calver-reflector charged with different eyepieces, i noticed, when about three-fourths of the floor was in shadow, that the illuminated portion of it was of a dark chocolate hue, strongly contrasting with the grey tone of the surrounding district. this appearance lasted till the interior was more than half illuminated, gradually becoming less pronounced as the sun rose higher on the ring. e. and s.e. of landsberg is a number of ring-plains and craters well worthy of careful examination. five of the largest are surrounded by a glistening halo, and one (that nearest to the formation) and another (the largest of the group) have each a minute crater on their n. wall. euclides.--one of the most brilliant objects on the moon; a crater 7 miles in diameter, standing on a large bright area in the mare procellarum, e. of the riphaean mountains. its e. rim rises nearly 2000 feet above the bright depressed floor; on the w. there is a bright little unrecorded crater. wichmann.--this bright crater, about 5 miles in diameter, stands on a light area in oceanus procellarum, n.n.w. of letronne and nearly due e. of euclides. some distance on the n.e. are the relics of what appears once to have been a large enclosure, represented now by a few isolated mountains. herigonius.--a ring-plain, about 7 miles in diameter, in the mare procellarum, n.w. of gassendi. there is a small crater a few miles s.e. of it, among the bright little mountains which flank this formation. herigonius has a small central mountain, which is a good test for moderate apertures. gassendi.--one of the most beautiful telescopic objects on the moon's visible surface, and structurally one of the most interesting and suggestive. it is a walled-plain, 55 miles in diameter, of a distinctly polygonal type, the n.w. and s.w. sections being practically straight, while the intermediate w. section exhibits a slightly convex curvature, or bulging in towards the interior. there is also much angularity about the e. side, which is evident at an early stage of sunrise. the wall on the n. is broken through and almost completely wrecked by the great ringplain gassendi a. the bright eastern section of the border is in places very lofty, rising at one peak, n. of the well-known triangular depression upon it, to 9000 feet, and at other peaks on the same side still higher. it is very low on the s., being only about 500 feet above the surface. the floor, however, on the n. stands 2000 feet above the mare humorum. on the w. there is a peak towering 4000 feet above the wall, which is here about 5000 feet above the floor, and 8000 feet above the mare nubium. a very notable feature in connection with this formation is the little bright plain bounding it on the n.w., and separated from it by merely a narrow strip of wall. this enclosure is flanked on the n.e. by gassendi a, and on the s.w. and n.w. by a coarse winding ridge, running from the w. wall and terminating at a large irregular dusky depression. gaudibert has detected a crater near the s.e. edge of this bright plain, which includes also some oval mounds. the interior of gassendi is without question unrivalled for the variety of its details, and, after plato, has perhaps received more attention from observers than any other object. the bright central mountain, or rather mountains, for it consists of a number of grouped masses crowned by peaks, of which the loftiest is about 4000 feet, is one of the finest on the moon. it was carefully studied with a 6 1/4 inch cooke-achromatic by the late professor phillips, the geologist, who compared it to the dolomitic or trachytic mountains of the earth. the buttresses and spurs which it throws out give its base a digitated outline, easily seen under suitable illumination. there are between 30 and 40 clefts in the interior, the majority being confined to the s.w. quarter of the floor. those most easily seen pertain to the group which radiates from the central mountain towards the s.w. wall. they are all more or less difficult objects, requiring exceptionally favourable weather and high powers. a fine mountain range, the percy mountains, is connected with the e. flank of gassendi, extending in a s.e. direction towards mersenius, and defining the n.e. side of the mare humorum. bullialdus.--a noble object, 38 miles in diameter, forming with its surroundings by far the most notable formation on the surface of the mare nubium, and one of the most characteristic ring-plains on the moon. it should be observed about the time when the morning terminator lies on the w. border of the mare humorum, as at this phase the best view is obtained of the two deep parallel terrace valleys which run round the bright inner slope of the e. wall, of the crater-row against which they abut on the s.e., and of the massive w. _glacis_, with its spurs and depressions. the s. border of bullialdus has been manifestly modified by the presence of the great ring-plain a, a deep irregular formation with linear walls, which is connected with it by a shallow valley. the rampart of bullialdus rises about 8000 feet above a concave floor, which sinks some 4000 feet below the mare on the e. with the exception of the fine compound central mountain, 3000 feet high, there are few details in the interior. on the s., is the fine ring-plain b, connected with the s.e. wall near the crater-row by a well-marked valley, and nearly due e. of b is another, a square-shaped enclosure, c, with a very lofty little mountain on the e. side of it, and a crater on its s. wall. in addition to these features, there are many ridges and surface inequalities, very prominent under oblique illumination. lubiniezky.--a regular enclosure, about 23 miles in diameter, n.e. of bullialdus, with a low attenuated border, which is nowhere more than 1000 feet in height. it is tolerably continuous, except on the s., where there are two or three breaks. its level dark interior presents no details to vary its monotony. close under the n.w. wall is a small crater connected with it by a ridge, and e. of this a very rugged area, traversed in every direction by narrow shallow valleys, which are well worth looking at when close to the morning terminator. a bright spur projects from the n. wall of lubiniezky. kies.--a somewhat similar formation, s. of bullialdus, about 25 miles in diameter, also encircled by a border of insignificant dimensions, attaining an altitude of 2400 feet at only one point on the s.e., while elsewhere it is scarcely higher than that of lubiniezky. it is clearly polygonal, approximating to the hexagonal type. on the more distinct s. section a bright spur projects from it. on the n. its continuity is broken by a distinct little crater. it is traversed by a remarkable white streak, extending in a s.w. direction from bullialdus c (where it is very wide), across the interior, to the more westerly of two craters s.w. of mercator. another streak branches out from it near the centre of the floor, and runs to the w. wall. the principal streak, so far as the portion within kies is concerned, represents a cleft. on the mare e. of kies is a curious circular mound, and farther towards campanus two prominent little mountains. on the n.w. is a large obscure ring and a wide shallow valley bordered by ridges. agatharchides.--a very irregular complex ring-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, forming part of the n.w. side of the mare humorum. it must be observed under many phases before one can clearly comprehend its distinctive features. the wall is very deficient on the n., but is represented in places by bright mountain masses. the formation is flanked on the e. by a double rampart, which is at one place more than 5000 feet in height, with a deep intervening valley. the s. wall is traversed by a number of parallel valleys, all trending towards hippalus. these are included in a much wider and longer chasm, which, gradually diminishing in breadth, extends up to the n. wall of the latter. hippalus.--a partially ruined walled-plain, about 38 miles in diameter, on the w. side of the mare humorum, s. of agatharchides. at least onethird of the border is wanting on the s.e., but under a low sun its site can be distinguished by a faint marking and the obvious difference in tone between the dark interior and the lighter-coloured plain. the rest of the wall is bright and continuous, except at a place on the w., where what appears to be the segment of a large ring has encroached upon it. there are two craters in the interior of hippalus, and a row of parallel ridges, running obliquely from the s.w. wall up to a cleft which traverses the floor from n. to s. w. of hippalus stands a bright crater, hippalus a, with an incomplete little ring-plain adjoining it on the n.w.; and n.e. of it a much larger obscure ring containing two little hills. the hippalus rill-system is a very interesting one, and the greater part of it can, moreover, be easily traced in a good 4 inch achromatic. it originates in the rugged region e. of campanus, from which five nearly parallel curved clefts extend up to the rocky barrier, connecting the n. side of this formation with the s.w. side of hippalus. the most westerly of these furrows is interrupted by a crater on this wall, but reappears on the n. side of it, and, after making a detour towards the w. to avoid a little mountain in its path, runs partially round the e. flank of hippalus a, and then, continuing its northerly course, terminates amid the mountains w. of agatharchides. (a short parallel cleft runs e. of this from the little mountain to the e. side of a.) the most easterly member of the system, originating n. of ramsden, enters hippalus at the s. side of the great gap in the border, and, after traversing the floor at the w. foot of a ridge thereon, also extends towards the mountains w. of agatharchides. between these clefts are three intermediate furrows, one of which runs n. from the n. side of the encroaching ring already referred to, on the w. wall of hippalus. campanus.--a ring-plain, 30 miles in diameter, on the rocky barrier, extending in nearly a straight line from hippalus to cichus. its terraced walls, which rise on the e. more than 6000 feet above the floor, are broken on the s. by a narrow valley, and on the e. by a small crater. a small central mountain is apparently the only object on a very dark interior. mercator.--a more irregular ring-plain of about the same area, adjoining campanus on the s.w. its rampart is somewhat lower, and is partially broken on the n. by two semi-rings, and on the s. by a gap. the e. wall extends on the s. far beyond the limits of the formation, and terminates in a brilliant mountain mass 6000 feet in height. there is a bright crater on the crest of both the e. and w. border. on the plain e. of mercator is a remarkable little crater standing on a light area, and, just under the wall, a dusky pit connected with it by a rill-like marking. these objects are of a very doubtful nature, and should be carefully observed. the floor of mercator is much lighter than that of campanus, and appears to be devoid of detail. cichus.--a conspicuous ring-plain, about 20 miles in diameter, with a prominent deep crater about 6 miles across on its e. rim. it is situated on a curious boot-shaped plateau, near the s. end of the rocky mountain barrier associated with the last two formations. its walls rise about 9000 feet above a sunken floor, on which there is some faint detail, but apparently nothing deserving the distinction of a central mountain. the plateau on the n. is cut through by a fine broad valley, which has obviously interfered with a large crateriform depression on its southern edge. a cleft runs from a small crater w. of the plateau up to this valley, and extends beyond to the w. wall of capuanus. there is also a delicate cleft crossing the region s. of cichus to the group of complicated formations s.w. of capuanus. as already mentioned, the great hesiodus cleft is associated with the cichus plateau. capuanus.--a large ring-plain, about 34 miles in diameter, e. of cichus, with a border especially remarkable on the e., where it rises more than 8000 feet above the outside country, and includes a large brilliant shallow crater. it is broken on the n.w. by a small but noteworthy double crater; and on the s. its continuity is destroyed for many miles by a number of big circular and sub-circular depressions and prominent deep valleys, far too numerous and complicated to describe. the level dusky interior contains only a low mound on the s., but is crossed by some light streaks running from n. to s. ramsden.--this ring-plain, 12 miles in diameter, derives its importance from the remarkable rill-system with which it is so closely associated. its border, about 1800 feet on the w. above the outside surface, is slightly terraced within on the e., where there is an unrecorded bright crater on the slope. the two principal clefts on the s. originate among the hills e. of capuanus. the more easterly begins at a crater on the n. edge of these objects, and runs n. to the e. side of ramsden; the other originates at a larger crater, and proceeds in a n. direction up to a bright little mountain s.w. of ramsden; when, swerving to the n.e., it ends at the w. wall of this formation. this mountain is a centre or node from which three other more delicate branches radiate. on the n., three of the shortest clefts pertaining to the system are easily traceable from neighbouring mountains up to the n. wall, which they apparently partially cut through. the e. pair have a common origin, but open out as they approach the border of ramsden. vitello.--a very peculiar ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, on the s. side of the mare humorum, remarkable for having another nearly concentric ring-plain, of considerably less altitude within it, and a large bright central boss, overlooking the inner wall, 1700 feet in height. the outer wall is somewhat irregular, and is broken by gaps and valleys on the s. and n.w. it rises on the e. about 5000 feet above the mare, but only about 2000 above the interior, which includes a crater on its n. side, and some low ridges. hainzel.--this remarkable formation, which is about 55 miles in greatest length, but is hardly half so broad, derives its abnormal shape from the partial coalescence of two nearly equal ring-plains, the walls of both being very lofty,--more than 10,000 feet. it ought to be observed under a morning sun when the floor is about half illuminated. at this phase the extension of the broad bright terraced e. border across a portion of the interior is very apparent, and the true structural character of the formation clearly revealed. the floor abounds in detail, among which, on the s., are some large craters and a bright longitudinal ridge. hainzel is flanked on the w. and s.w. by a broad plateau, w. of which stand two ring-plains about 15 miles in diameter, both having prominent central mountains and bright interiors. wilhelm i.--a large irregular formation, about 50 miles across, s.e. of heinsius, with walls varying very considerably in height, rising more than 11,000 feet on the e., but only about 7000 feet on the opposite side. the border is everywhere crowded with depressions, large and small. three ring-plains, not less than 6 miles in diameter, stand upon the s. wall, the most westerly overlapping its shallower neighbour on the e., which projects beyond the wall on to the floor. the interior has a very rugged and uneven surface, upon the n. side of which are two very distinct craters, and a short crater-row on the w. of them. it is traversed from w. to e. by three bright streaks from tycho, two on the n. being very prominent under a high light. longomontanus.--a much larger walled-plain, s. of the last. it is 90 miles in diameter, with a border much broken by depressions, especially on the n.e. at one peak on this side it rises to the tremendous altitude of 13,000 feet above the floor, and at peaks on the w. more than 1000 feet higher. there is a crowd of ring-plains on the n.e. quarter of the interior, and some hills and craterlets in other parts of it. it is also crossed by rays from tycho. schiller.--a fine lozenge-shaped enclosure, with a continuous but somewhat irregular border. it is about 112 miles in extreme length, and rather more than half this in breadth. the loftiest section of the wall is on the w., where it rises 13,000 feet above a considerably depressed interior. there is a bright crater on this side and some terraces. on the broad inner slope of the e. border, the summit ridge of which is especially well-marked, there is a large shallow depression. the floor contains scarcely any detail, except some ridges on the n. side and a few craterlets. the great bright plain e. of schiller and the region on the s.e. are especially worthy of scrutiny under a low morning sun. bayer.--this object, 29 miles in diameter, with a terraced border rising on the w. to a height of 8000 feet above the floor, is so closely associated with schiller, that it may almost be regarded as forming part of it. a long lofty mountain arm, apparently connected with the w. wall of the latter, runs from the e. side of bayer towards the n.w. there is a crater on the e. side of the interior. rost.--an oblong-shaped ring-plain, 30 miles in diameter, on the s.w. of schiller, with moderately high walls, and, according to neison, a shallow depression within, nearly central. i have seen a crater shown by schmidt on the e. side of the floor. a valley runs from the e. side of rost to the s. of schiller. weigel.--a not very conspicuous ring-plain on the s. of schiller, with a crater on its n.w. rim, and a larger ring adjoining it on the s.e. a prominent curved mountain arm from the e. wall of schiller runs towards the n. side of this formation. blancanus.--a formation, 50 miles in diameter, on the s.e. side of clavius, whose surpassing beauties tend to render the less remarkable features of this magnificent ring-plain and those of its neighbour scheiner less attractive than they otherwise would be. the crest of its finely terraced wall, which at one peak on the e. rises to 18,000 feet, is at least 12,000 feet above the interior. krieger saw twenty craters on the floor (1894, sept. 21, 13h.), most of them situated on the s. quarter. scheiner.--a still larger object, being nearly 70 miles in diameter, with a prominently terraced wall, fully as lofty as that of blancanus. there is a large crater, nearly central, two others on the n.e. side of the floor, and a fourth at the inner foot of the e. wall. there is also a shallow ring on the n.e. slope. schmidt shows, but far too prominently, two straight ridges crossing each other on the s. side of the central crater. casatus.--a large walled-plain, about 50 miles in diameter, s.e. of blancanus, near the limb, remarkable for having one of the loftiest ramparts of all known lunar objects; it rises at one peak on the s.w. to the great height of 22,285 feet above the floor, while there are other peaks nearly as high on the n. and s. the wall is broken on the e. by a fine crater. there is also a crater on the n.w. side of the very depressed floor, together with some craterlets. klaproth.--casatus partially overlaps this still larger but less massive formation on its s.e. flank. the walls of klaproth are much lower and very irregular and broken, especially on the w. there are some ridges on the floor. the neighbouring region is covered with unnamed objects, large and small. east longitude 40 deg. to 60 deg. flamsteed.--a bright ring-plain, 9 miles in diameter, in a barren region in the oceanus procellarum, n.e. of wichmann. it has a regular border (broken at one place on the n. by a gap, which probably represents a crater), rising to a height of about 1400 feet above the surrounding plain. a great enclosure, 60 miles in diameter, lies on the n. of flamsteed. it is defined by low ridges which exhibit many breaks, though under a high light the ring is apparently continuous. within are several small craters and two considerable hills, nearly central. hermann.--a ring-plain, about 10 miles in diameter, in the oceanus procellarum, w. of lohrmann. it is associated with a group of long ridges, running in a meridional direction and roughly parallel to the coast-line. letronne.--a magnificent bay or inflexion in the coast-line of the oceanus procellarum, n.n.e. of gassendi, presenting an opening towards the n. of nearly 50 miles, and bounded on the s. and s.w. by the lofty gassendi highlands. its border on the w., about 3000 feet high, is crowned with innumerable small depressions. the interior includes four bright little mountains, nearly central (three of them forming a triangle), a bright crater on the w. side, and several minor elevations and ridges. on the plain n. of the bay, is a large bright crater, from which a fine curved ridge runs to the central mountains. if letronne is observed under oblique illumination, the low mounds and ridges on the mare outside impress one with the idea that they represent the remains of a once complete n. wall. billy.--a ring-plain, 31 miles in diameter, s.e. of letronne, with a very dark floor, depressed about 1000 feet below the grey surface on the w., and a regular border, rising more than 3000 feet above it. there is a narrow gap on the s., and indications of a crater on the n.w. rim. two small craters stand on the s. half of the interior. the formation is flanked on the s.w. by highlands. hansteen.--a somewhat larger ring-plain, with a lower and more irregular rampart, rising on the w. to nearly 3000 feet above the floor, which is depressed to about the same extent as that of billy. both the inner and outer slopes are terraced on the e., where the _glacis_ is traversed by a short, delicate, rill-like valley. there are some bright curved ridges on the floor. on the w. of billy and hansteen is a wide inlet of the oceanus procellarum, bounded by the letronne region on the w., and on the s. by lofty highlands. on the surface, not far from the s.w. border of hansteen, is a curious triangular-shaped mountain mass, with a digitated outline on the s., and including a small bright crater on its area. between this and the ringplain is a large but somewhat obscure depression, n. of which lies a rill-like object extending from the n. point of the triangular mountain to the w. wall. at the bottom of a gently sloping valley between billy and hansteen is a delicate marking, which seems to represent a cleft connecting the two formations. zupus.--a formation about 12 miles in diameter with a dark floor, situated in the hilly region n.e. of mersenius. fontana.--a noteworthy ring-plain, about 20 miles in diameter, e.n.e. of zupus, with a bright border, exhibiting a narrow gap on the s. and two large contiguous craters on the n.w. the faint central mountain stands on a dusky interior. on the n. is a large peculiar depressed plain with a gently sloping wall, within which are three short rill-like valleys and a crater. mersenius.--with its extensive rill-system and interesting surroundings, one of the most notable ring-plains in the third quadrant. it is 41 miles in diameter, and is encircled by a fine rampart, which on the side fronting the mare humorum rises 7000 feet above the floor, which is distinctly convex, and is depressed 3000 feet below the region on the e., though it stands considerably above the level of the mare. the prominently terraced border is tolerably regular on the n.w., but on the s. and s.e. is much broken by craters and depressions, the largest and most conspicuous interrupting the continuity of its summit-ridge on the latter side. a fine crater-row traverses the central part of the interior, nearly axially, and a delicate cleft crosses the n. half of the floor from the inner foot of the n.e. wall to a crater not far from the opposite side. i detected another cleft on november 11, 1883, also crossing the n. side of the floor. south of mersenius is the fine ring-plain mersenius _d_, about 20 miles in diameter, situated on the border of the mare; and, extending in a line from this towards vieta are two others (_a_, and cavendish _d_,), somewhat larger, but otherwise similar; the more easterly being connected with cavendish by a mountain arm. one of the principal clefts of the system (all of which run roughly parallel to the n.e. side of the mare, and extend to the percy mountains e. of gassendi) crosses the floor of _d_, and, i believe, partially cuts into its w. wall. another, the coarsest, abuts on a mountain arm connecting _d_ with mersenius, and, reappearing on the e. side, runs up to the n.w. wall of the other ringplain, _a_, and, again reappearing on the e. of this, strikes across the rugged ground between _a_ and cavendish _d_, traversing its floor and border, as does also another cleft to the n. of it. cavendish _d_ includes a coarse cleft on its floor, running from n. to s., which i have frequently glimpsed with a 4 inch achromatic. there are two other delicate clefts running from the gassendi region to the s.w. side of mersenius, which are in part crater-rills. cavendish.--a notable ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, s.e. of mersenius, with a prominently terraced border, rising at one point on the s. to a height of 6000 feet above the interior, on which are a few low ridges. a large bright ring-plain (_e_), about 12 miles in diameter, breaks the continuity of the s.e. wall, and adjoining this, but beyond the limits of the formation, is another smaller ring with a central hill. there is also a bright crater on the n.w. border. the w. _glacis_ is very broad, and includes two large shallow depressions. an especially fine valley runs up to the n. wall, to the w. side of _e_. vieta.--one of the finest objects in the third quadrant; a ring-plain 51 miles in diameter, with broad lofty walls, a peak on the west rising to nearly 11,000 feet, and another n. of it to considerably more than 14,000 feet above the interior. it is bounded by a linear border, approximating very closely to an hexagonal shape, which is broken by many gaps and cross-valleys. on the s., the s.w. and s.e. sections of the wall do not meet, being separated by a wide valley flanked on the w. by a fine crater, which has broken down the rampart at this place. the n. border is likewise intersected by valleys and by a crater-row. the inner slopes are conspicuously terraced. there is a very inconspicuous central mountain and several large craters on the floor, some of them double. ten have been counted on the n. half of the interior. on the s.e. of vieta are two fine overlapping ring-plains, with a crater on the wall common to both. de vico.--a conspicuous little ring-plain, about 9 miles in diameter, with a lofty border, some distance e. of mersenius. lee.--an incomplete walled-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, on the s. side of the mare humorum, e. of vitello, from which it is separated by another partial enclosure, with a striking valley, not shown in the published maps, running round its w. side. if viewed when its e. wall is on the morning terminator, some isolated relics of the wrecked n.w. wall of lee are prominent, in the shape of a number of attenuated bright elevations separated by gaps. within are three or four conspicuous hills. doppelmayer.--under a high sun this large ring-plain, 40 miles in diameter, resembles a great bay open to the n.w., without a trace of detail to break the monotony of the surface on the side facing the mare humorum. when, however, it is viewed under oblique morning illumination, a low broad ridge is easily traceable, extending across the opening, indicating the site of a ruined wall. there is an isolated mountain at the s.w. end of this, which casts a fine spire of shadow across the floor at sunrise. the interior contains a massive bright central mountain and several little hills. the crest of the wall on the e. is much broken. fourier.--a large ring-plain, 30 miles in diameter, s.w. of vieta, with a border rising at a peak on the w. more than 9000 feet above the floor, there are two craters on the outer slope of the n.w. wall, a prominent crater on the s. wall, and (according to schmidt) a small central crater on the floor, which i have not seen. in the region between fourier and vieta there are three ring-plains, two (the more westerly) standing side by side, and on the w., towards the mare, are two others much larger, that nearer to fourier being traversed by one cleft, and the other by two clefts, crossing near the centre of the floor. clausius.--a small bright ring-plain in an isolated position n.w. of schickard, with a crater both on its n. and s. rim, and a faint central hill. lacroix.--a ring-plain 20 miles in diameter, n. of schickard. it has a prominent central mountain. schickard.--one of the largest wall-surrounded plains on the visible surface of the moon, extending about 134 miles from n. to s., and about the same from e. to w., enclosing a nearly level area, abounding in detail. its border, to a great extent linear, is very irregular, and much broken by the interposition of small ring-plains and craters, and on the n. by cross-valleys. its general height is about 4000 feet, the loftiest peak on the w. wall rising to more than 9000 feet above the floor. the inner slopes of this vast rampart are very complex, especially on the e., where many terraces and depressions may be seen under suitable illumination. there are three large ring-plains in the interior, all of them s. of the centre; and at least five smaller ones near the inner foot of the e. wall, which can only be well observed when libration is favourable. the two more easterly of the large ring-plains are connected by a cleft, and there are several short clefts and crater-rows associated with the smaller ring-plains. on the n. side of the area is a number of minute craters. the floor is diversified by two large dark markings--an oblong patch on the s.w. side, abutting on the wall, being the more remarkable; and a dusky area, occupying a great portion of the n. part of the floor, and extending up to the n. border. this is traversed by a light streak running from n. to s., which is the site of a row of minute craters. lehmann.--a ring-plain, about 28 miles in length, on the n. of schickard, with which it is connected by a number of cross-valleys. drebbel.--a bright ring-plain, 18 miles in diameter, on the n.w. of schickard, with a lofty irregular border (especially on the w.), exhibiting a well-marked terrace on the e., a distinct gap on the n., and a small crater on the s.e. rim. on a dusky area between it and schickard stand three prominent deep craters. phocylides.--this extraordinary walled plain, with its neighbouring enclosures, is structurally very remarkable and suggestive. it consists of a large irregular formation, with a lofty wall, flanked on the n. by a smaller and still more irregular enclosure (_b_), the floor of which is 1500 feet above that of phocylides, the line of partition being a high cliff, probably representing a "fault," whose shadow under a low sun is very striking. phocylides is about 80 miles in maximum length, or, if we reckon the small enclosure _b_ to form a part of it, more than 120 miles. the loftiest peak, nearly 9000 feet, is on the w. border, near the partition wall. the continuity of the rampart is broken on the s. by a large crater. there is a bright ring-plain on the w. side of the floor, and a few small craters. phocylides _b_ has only a solitary crater within it. phocylides c, abutting on the w. flank of phocylides, is about 26 miles in diameter. its somewhat dusky interior is devoid of detail, but the outer slope of its w. wall is crowded with a number of minute craters, which, under good conditions, may be utilised as tests of the defining power of the telescope used. phocylides a, on the bright s.w. plain, is a large deep crater with a fine crater-row flanking it on the w. wargentin.--a most remarkable member of the phocylides group, flanking the s.e. side of schickard. unlike the majority of lunar formations, its floor is raised considerably above the surrounding region, so that it resembles a shallow oval dish turned upside down. it is 54 miles in diameter, and, except on the s.w. (where it abuts on phocylides _b_, and for some distance is bounded by its wall), it has only a border of very moderate dimensions. on the n.e. slope of this ghostly rampart i have seen a distinct little crater, and two much larger depressions on the n.w. slope. there are some low ridges on the floor, radiating from a nearly central point, which have been aptly compared to a bird's foot. segner.--a fine ring-plain, 46 miles in diameter, on the s.e. side of schiller, with a linear border on every side except the n. at a peak on the w., whose shadow is very remarkable, it rises to a height of more than 8000 feet above the outer surface. there is a crater on the s.w. wall, another on the n.w. wall, and several depressions on the outer slope on this side. the central mountain is small but conspicuous. a large unnamed enclosure extends n. of segner: it is larger than schiller, and is surrounded by a lofty barrier. the bright plain between this and the latter is worth examination under a low sun. zuchius.--is situated on the s.e. of segner, which it slightly overlaps. it is very similar in size and general character, and has a lofty terraced wall, rising at one place on the w. to nearly 11,000 feet above the floor. a very fine chain of craters, well seen when the opposite border is on the morning terminator, runs round the outer w. slope of the wall. there is a bright crater beyond this on the s.w. zuchius has a central peak. bettinus.--another ring-plain of the same type and size, some distance s. of the last, with a massive border, terraced within, and rising on the w. more than 13,000 feet above the floor, on which stands a grand central mountain, whose brilliant summit is in sunlight a long time before a ray reaches any part of the deep interior. kircher.--a ring-plain, about 45 miles in diameter, s. of bettinus, remarkable also for its very lofty rampart, which on the s. attains the tremendous height of nearly 18,000 feet above the floor, which appears to be devoid of detail. wilson.--the most southerly of the chain of five massive ring-plains, extending in an almost unbroken line from segner and differing only very slightly in size. it is about 40 miles in diameter, and has a somewhat irregular border, both as regards shape and height, rising at one peak on the s.w. to nearly 14,000 feet above a level interior, which apparently contains no conspicuous features. east longitude 60 deg. to 90 deg. grimaldi.--this ranks among the largest wall-surrounded plains on the moon, and is perhaps the darkest. it extends 148 miles from n. to s. and 129 miles from e. to w., enclosing an area of some 14,000 square miles, or nearly double that of the principality of wales. this vast dusky surface is bounded on the e. by a tolerably regular border, having an average height of about 4000 feet, while on the opposite side it is much broken, and in places considerably loftier, rising at one peak on the s.w. to an altitude of 9000 feet. about midway, also, this western rampart attains a great height, as may be seen by any one who observes at sunrise the magnificent shadow of it, and its many peaks thrown across the bluish-grey interior. on the s. the wall is broken by a large irregular depression, on the w. of which is a very curious v-shaped rill valley. on the n.w. it is comparatively low, and in places discontinuous; and even to a greater extent than on the s.w., intersected by passes. at the extreme n. end, a number of wide valleys cut through the wall and trend towards lohrmann. there is a considerable ring-plain at the inner foot of the n.e. wall, but, except this and a few longitudinal ridges, just visible under a very low sun, there is apparently no other object to vary the monotony of this great expanse. damoiseau.--consists of a complex arrangement of rings, an enclosure 23 miles in diameter, with a somewhat smaller enclosure placed excentrically within it (the n. side of both abutting on a bright plateau), with two large depressions intervening between their w. borders. this peculiarity, almost unique, renders the formation an especially interesting object. damoiseau is situated on the w. side of grimaldi, on the e. coast-line of the oceanus procellarum, from which the s.w. border rises at a gentle inclination. on the n.w. there is a curious curved inflexion of the mare, bounded by a bright cliff, representing probably the e. side of a destroyed ring, a supposition which is strengthened by the existence of a faint scar on the surface of the sea, extending in a curve from one extremity of the bay to the other, and thus indicating the position of the remainder of the ring. a conspicuous little crater stands at the s. end of it, and two others some distance to the w. the smaller component of damoiseau contains a low central ridge. riccioli.--an immense enclosure, near the limb, n.e. of grimaldi, bounded by a rampart which is very irregular both in form and height, though nowhere of great altitude, and much broken by narrow gaps. it is especially low and attenuated on the n., where a number of ridges with intervening valleys traverse it. on the s. also a wide valley cuts through it. with the exception of a few low rounded hills and ridges, a short crater-row under the s.e. wall, and two small craters on the s.w., there are no details on the floor, which, however, is otherwise remarkable for the dusky tone of its surface, especially on the n. this dark patch occupies the whole of the n.e. side of the interior, and is bounded on the s. by an irregular outline, extending at one point nearly to the centre, and on the w. by a curved edge. the w. side is much darker than the rest. it is, in fact, as dark, if not darker, than any part of the floor of grimaldi. riccioli extends 106 miles from n. to s., and is nearly as broad. it includes an area of 9000 square miles. rocca.--an irregular formation, 60 miles in length, near the limb s.e. of grimaldi, consisting of a depression partially enclosed by mountain arms. sirsalis.--the more westerly of a conspicuous pair of ring-plains about 20 miles in diameter, in the disturbed mountain region some distance s.w. of grimaldi. it has lofty bright walls, rising to a great height above a depressed floor, on which there is a prominent central mountain. the e. border encroaches considerably on the somewhat larger companion, which is, however, scarcely a third so deep. one of the longest clefts on the visible surface runs immediately w. of this formation. commencing at a minute crater on the n. of it, it grazes the foot of the w. _glacis_; then, passing a pair of small overlapping craters (resembling sirsalis and its companion in miniature), it runs through a very rugged country to a ring-plain e. of de vico (de vico _a_), which it traverses, and, still following a southerly course, extends towards byrgius, in the neighbourhood of which it is apparently lost at a ridge, though schmidt and gaudibert have traced it still farther in the same direction. it is at least 300 miles in length, and varies much in width and character, consisting in places of distinct crater-rows. cruger.--a regular ring-plain e. of fontana, 30 miles in diameter, with a dark floor, without detail, and comparatively low bright walls. there is a smaller but very conspicuous ring-plain (cruger _a_) on the w. of it, to which runs a branch of the great sirsalis cleft. eichstadt.--a ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, near the e. limb, s. of rocca. it is the largest and most southerly of three nearly circular enclosures, without central mountains or any other details of interest. on the w. lies a great walled-plain with a very irregular border, containing several ring-plains and craters, and a crater-rill. schmidt has named this formation darwin. byrgius.--a very irregular enclosure, about 40 miles in diameter, between cavendish and the e. limb, with a lofty and discontinuous border, rising at one point on the e. to a height of 7000 feet above the floor. there are wide openings both in the n. and s. wall, and some ridges within. the border is broken on the e. by a crater, and on the w. by the well-known crater byrgius a, from which a number of bright streaks radiate, mostly towards the e. one on the w. extends to cavendish, and another to mersenius, traversing the ring-plain cavendish c. north-east of byrgius there is a mountain arm which includes a peak 13,000 feet in height. piazzi.--a walled-plain, about 90 miles in length, some distance s.e. of vieta, with a complex broken border, including several depressions on the n.w., rising to about 7000 feet above a rather dark interior, on which there is a prominent central mountain. lagrange.--a larger but similar formation, 100 miles in diameter, associated with the last on the n.e., with a complex terraced border, including peaks of 9000 feet, a bright crater on the w., and a ring-plain on the n.w. the inner slope of the e. wall is a fine object at sunrise, when libration is favourable. the floor is dark and devoid of detail. bouvard.--a great irregular enclosure, which appears to be still larger than lagrange, s.e. of piazzi, and close to the limb. it is bounded by a very lofty rampart, rising at a peak on the w. to 10,000 feet. it has a fine central mountain. inghirami.--a very remarkable ring-plain, 60 miles in diameter, e. of schickard, with a bright, broad, and nearly continuous border, terraced within, and intersected on the n.e. by narrow valleys, one of which is prolonged over the floor and extends to the central mountain. there are two curious dark spots on the n. side of the interior. beyond the foot of the _glacis_ on the s. a distinct cleft runs from a dusky spot to a group of small craters e. of wargentin. there is a fine regular ring-plain with a small central mount w. of inghirami. pingre.--a ring-plain, about 18 miles in diameter, between phocylides and the limb. hausen.--a ring-plain, close to the limb, n. of bailly, which, but for its position, would be a fine object. it is, however, never sufficiently well placed for observation. bailly.--one of the largest wall-surrounded plains on the moon, almost a "sea" in miniature, extending 150 miles from n. to s., and fully as much from w. to e. when caught at a favourable phase, it is, despite its position, especially worthy of scrutiny. the rampart on the w., of the linear type, is broken by several bright craters. on the s.w. two considerable overlapping ring-plains interfere with its continuity. on the s.e. several very remarkable parallel curved valleys traverse the border. the e. wall, which at one point attains a height of nearly 15,000 feet, is beautifully terraced. the floor on the eastern side includes several ring-plains (some of which are of a very abnormal type), many ridges, and two delicate dark lines, crossing each other near the s. end, probably representing clefts. legentil.--a large walled-plain, close to the limb, s. of bailly. fourth quadrant west longitude 90 deg. to 60 deg. kastner.--a large walled-plain at the s. end of the mare smythii, too near the limb for satisfactory observation. maclaurin.--the principal member of a group of irregular ring-plains on the w. side of the mare foecunditatis, a little s. of the lunar equator. schmidt shows no details within it, except a small crater on the e. side of the floor. webb.--a ring-plain e. of maclaurin, about 14 miles in diameter, with a dusky floor, enclosed by a bright rim, on the n.e. side of which there is a small crater. schmidt seems to have overlooked the central hill. langrenus.--this noble circumvallation, the most northerly of the meridional chain of immense walled-plains, extending for more than 600 miles from near the equator to s. lat. 40 deg., would, but for its propinquity to the limb, rank with copernicus (which in many respects it resembles) among the most striking objects on the surface of the moon. its length is about 90 miles from n. to s., and its breadth fully as much. in shape it approximates very closely to that of a foreshortened regular hexagon. the walls, which at one point on the e. rise to an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet, are continuous, except on this side, where they are broken by the interference of an irregular depression, and on the extreme s., where they are intersected by cross-valleys. within, the terraces are remarkably distinct, and the intervening valleys strongly marked. the brilliant compound central mountain rises at its loftiest peak to a height of more than 3000 feet. on the n. of it is an obscure circular ring, which may possibly merely represent a fortuitous combination of ridges, though it has all the appearance of a modified ring-plain. on the mare, some distance n.e. of the formation, is a group of three ring-plains, with two small craters (associated with a ridge) on the n. of them. two of the more westerly of these objects have prominent central mountains, and the third a very dark interior. at least three bright streaks originate on the e. flank of langrenus, which, diverging widely, traverse the mare foecunditatis. [flattenings on the moon's western limb.--about thirty years ago, the rev. henry cooper key drew attention to certain flattenings which he had noted on the w. limb, which are very apparent under favourable conditions of libration. their position cannot be closely defined, but the principal deviation from circularity extends from about s. lat. 10 deg. to the region on the limb opposite the s. border of the mare crisium.] vendelinus.--the second great enclosure pertaining to the meridional chain--a magnificent walled-plain of about the same dimensions as the last. it is bounded by a very irregular rampart, which, under evening illumination, is especially noteworthy, though nowhere approaching the altitude of that of langrenus. its continuity on the w. is broken by the great ring-plain vendelinus c, about 50 miles in diameter, a formation resembling langrenus in miniature. this is hexagonal in shape, and has many rings and depressions on its w. wall. south of vendelinus c, the wall of vendelinus runs up in a bold curve to the fine terraced ringplain vendelinus b, and is surmounted by a bright serpentine crest, and traversed by several valleys running down the slope to the floor. b has a small crater on its n. wall, and another in the interior. there is a wide gap in the s. border of vendelinus, which is partially occupied by another somewhat smaller ring-plain, bounded by a southerly extension of the e. wall, which includes on its outer slope many craters and other depressions, and abuts near its n. end on the large ring-plain vendelinus a, which has a prominently terraced wall and a large bright central mountain. between a and c extends a plateau that may be regarded as the n. limit of the formation, including, among other minor details, a fine cleft, which traverses it from n. to s., and ultimately extends to a group of craters on the floor. on the s. side of the interior is one large ring-plain, flanked on the w. by two small craters. near the n. end are many bright little craters, many of them unrecorded. vendelinus c is bordered on the e. by two large semicircular formations with low walls extending on to the floor. mr. w.h. maw and others have detected many minute depressions in connection with these curious objects; and n. of them, on the outer slope of c, where it runs out to the level of the plateau, i have seen the surface at sunset riddled like a sieve with craterlets and little pits. there is an irregular ring-plain n. of a, with linear walls, and another, much smaller and brighter, on the n. of this, standing a little beyond the n. limits of langrenus. la peyrouse.--a much foreshortened walled-plain, 41 miles in diameter, close to the limb, s.w. of langrenus. there is a longitudinal ridge on the floor. between it and langrenus are two large ring-plains with central mountains, and on the n.e., la peyrouse a, a bright crater, adjoining which is la peyrouse delta, one of the most brilliant spots on the moon. ansgarius.--a ring-plain, 50 miles in diameter, still nearer to the limb than the last. behaim.--a great ring-plain, 65 miles in diameter, s. of ansgarius, and connected with it by ridges. it has lofty walls and a central mountain. hecataeus.--an immense walled-plain, 115 miles in length, on the s.w. of vendelinus, with a very irregular rampart and a conspicuous central mountain. it is flanked e. and w. by other large enclosures, which can only be seen to advantage when libration is favourable. w. humboldt.--though close to the limb, this enormous wall-surrounded plain, some 130 miles in extreme length, and estimated to have an area of 12,000 square miles, is well worth observing under suitable conditions. it ranks among the largest formations of its class, and in many respects resembles bailly on the s.e. limb. at one point on the e. a peak rises to 16,000 feet, and on the opposite side there are peaks nearly as high. the floor contains some detail--a crater, nearly central, associated with ridges, and two dark spots, one at the s. and the other at the n. end. phillips.--abuts on the e. side of w. humboldt. it is a walled-plain, about 80 miles in length, with a border much broken on the e., and terraced within on the opposite side. there are many hills and ridges on the floor. legendre.--a fine ring-plain, 46 miles in diameter, on the s.e. of the last. according to schmidt, there is a crater on the s. side of the floor. there is a small ring-plain, adams, on the s. petavius.--the third member of the great meridional chain: a noble walled-plain, with a complex rampart, extending nearly 100 miles from n. to s., which encloses a very rugged convex floor, traversed by many shallow valleys, and includes a massive central mountain and one of the most remarkable clefts on the visible surface. to observe these features to the best advantage, the formation should be viewed when its w. wall is on the evening terminator. at this phase a considerable portion of the interior on the n. is obscured by the shadow of the rampart, but the principal features on the s. half of the floor, and on the broad gentlyshelving slope of the w. wall, are seen better than under any other conditions. the border is loftiest on the e., where the ring-plain wrottesley abuts on it. it rises at this point to nearly 11,000 feet, while on the opposite side it nowhere greatly exceeds 6000 feet above the interior. the terraces, however, on the w. are much more numerous, and, with the associated valleys, render this section of the wall one of the most striking objects of its class. the n. border is conspicuously broken by the many valleys from the region s. of vendelinus, which run up to and traverse it. on the s., also, it is intersected by gaps, and in one place interrupted by a large crater. there is a remarkable bifurcation of the border s. of wrottesley. a lower section separates from the main rampart and, extending to a considerable distance s.e. of it, encloses a wide and comparatively level area which is crossed by two short clefts. the central mountains of petavius, rising at one peak to a height of nearly 6000 feet above the floor, form a noble group, exceeding in height those in gassendi by more than 2000 feet. the convexity of the interior is such that the centre of it is about 800 feet higher than the margin, under the walls; a protuberance which would, nevertheless, be scarcely remarked _in situ_, as it represents no steeper gradient than about 1 in 300 on any portion of its superficies. the great cleft, extending from the central mountains to the s.e. wall, and perhaps beyond, was discovered by schroter on september 16, 1788, and can be seen in a 2 inch achromatic. in larger instruments it is found to be in places bordered by raised banks. wrottesley.--a formation, about 25 miles in diameter, closely associated with the e. wall of petavius, the shape of which it has clearly modified. its border on the e., of the linear type, rises nearly 9000 feet above a light interior, where there is a small bright central mountain and some mounds. there is a prominent valley running along the inner slope of the w. wall. palitzsch.--if this extraordinary formation is observed when the moon is about three days old, it resembles a great trough, or deep elongated gorge flanking the w. wall of petavius, though it is a true ring-plain, albeit of a very abnormal type, about 60 miles in length and 20 miles in breadth, with a somewhat dusky interior. on the outer slope of its w. wall is a bright ring-plain with a lofty border and a central mountain. hase.--an irregular formation, about 50 miles in diameter, on the s.w. of petavius, with which it is connected by extensions of the w. and e. walls of the latter. its rampart, some 7000 feet above the floor, is broken by depressions on the w.; and on the s. is bounded by a smaller ring-plain with still loftier walls. schmidt shows a large crater and three smaller ones on the w. side of the floor. marinus.--a ring-plain on the n.e. side of the mare australe, between furnerius and the limb. furnerius.--the fourth and most southerly component of the great meridional chain of walled-plains, commencing on the n. with langrenus: a fine but irregular enclosure, about 80 miles in extreme length and much more in breadth. its rampart is very lofty, and tolerably continuous on the n. and w., but on the other sides is interrupted by small craters and depressions. at peaks on the e. it attains a height of more than 11,000 feet above the interior, and there are other peaks rising nearly as high. there is a ring-plain (furnerius b) with a central hill, on the e. side of the floor, and numerous craters and crater-pits in other parts of it. on the n.w. side of b there is a short cleft, on the w., a well-marked crater-row, and on the e. a long rill-valley. the very brilliant crater (furnerius a) on the n.e. _glacis_ is the origin of two fine light streaks, one extending s. for more than 100 miles, and the other in the opposite direction for a great distance. fraunhofer.--a ring-plain, s. of furnerius, about 30 miles in diameter, with a regular border rising about 5000 feet above the floor. a smaller ring-plain abuts on the n.e. side of it, which has slightly disturbed its wall. oken.--a large enclosure in s. lat. 43 deg. with broken irregular walls. it is too near the limb for observation. vega.--schmidt represents this peculiar formation, situated s.e. of oken, as having a regular curved unbroken rampart on the e., while the opposite border is occupied by four large partially overlapping ring-plains, two of which contain small craters. the floor is devoid of detail. pontecoulant.--a great irregular walled plain, about 100 miles in length, near the s.w. limb, with a border rising in places to a height of 6000 feet above the floor. hanno.--a smaller and more regular enclosure, adjoining pontecoulant on the n.w., and still nearer the limb. west longitude 60 deg. to 40 deg. messier.--the more westerly of a remarkable pair of bright craters, about 9 miles in diameter, standing in an isolated position in the mare foecunditatis just s. of the equator. madler represents them as similar in every respect, but webb, observing them in 1855 and 1856 with a 3 7/10 achromatic, found them very distinctly different,--messier, the more westerly, being not only clearly smaller than its companion, but longer from w. to e. than from n. to s., as it undoubtedly is at the present time. messier a, however, as the companion is termed, though larger, is certainly not circular, as sometimes shown, but triangular with curved sides. it is just possible that change may have occurred here, for madler carefully observed these objects more than three hundred times, and, it may be presumed, under very different phases. messier a is the origin of two slightly divergent light streaks, resembling a comet's tail, which extend over the mare towards its e. border n. of lubbock, and are crossed obliquely by a narrower streak. messier and messier a stand near the s. and narrowest end of a tapering curved light area. there is a number of craterlets and minute pits in the neighbourhood, and under a high light two round dusky spots are traceable in connection with the "comet" marking, one just beyond its northern, and the other beyond its southern border, near its e. extremity. lubbock.--a brilliant little crater, about 4 or 5 miles in diameter, near the e. coast-line of the mare foecunditatis. the region e. of this object is particularly well worthy of scrutiny under a low sun, on account of the variety of detail it includes. on the s.e. run three fine parallel clefts, originating near the n. end of the pyrenees. guttemberg.--a very fine ring-plain of peculiar shape, about 45 miles in width, with a lofty wall, broken on the n.w. by another ring-plain some 14 miles in diameter, and on the s.e. by a small but distinct crater. the border presents a wide opening towards the s., which is traversed by a number of longitudinal valleys, both the e. and w. sections of the wall being prolonged in this direction. a fine crater-row runs round the outer slope of the e. wall, from the crater just mentioned to the n. side of the formation. it is best seen when the w. wall is on the evening terminator. there is also a broad valley on the s. prolongation of the w. wall. the central mountain is bright but not large. a cleft crosses the n.w. side of the floor. north of guttemberg there is a curious oblong formation with low walls, connected with the n.e. border by a ridge, and with the n. border by a remarkable row of depressions, situated on a mound; and beyond this object on the e. are three parallel clefts running towards the n.e. on the w. will be found some of the clefts belonging to the goclenius rill-system. in the rugged region s.e. of the formation is a peculiar low ring with a very uneven floor and a large central hill. the e. wall of guttemberg may be regarded as forming a portion of the pyrenees mountains. goclenius.--a ring-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, bearing much resemblance to plinius in form and size, and, like this formation, associated with a fine system of clefts. the lofty rampart, tolerably continuous on the w., is broken on the s.w. by a bright crater, and on the n.w. by a remarkable triangular depression. it is also traversed by a delicate valley extending from the crater on the s.w. to another on the n.w. border; and at a point a little w. of the first crater is dislocated by an intrusive mass of rock. there are several gaps on the e. and many spurs and irregularities in outline both within and without. a great portion of the n. wall is linear, and joins the e. section nearly at right angles. west of the triangular depression it appears to be partially wrecked, indications of the destruction being very evident if it be observed when the e. wall is near the morning terminator. the small bright central mountain is remarkable for its curious oblong shadow. two clefts traverse the interior of goclenius. (1) originates at the s. wall, e. of the crater, and runs e. of the central mountain to the n. wall; (2) crosses the _debris_ of the ruined n.w. border, runs parallel to the first, and extends nearly to the centre of the floor, (1) re-appears at the foot of a mound outside the n. wall, and, after crossing the outer w. slope of the great ring-plain on the n.w. wall of guttemberg, runs to the w. side of an oblong formation n. of it. there are two other clefts, closely parallel and w. of this, traversing the mare, and terminating among the mountains on the n.w. these are crossed at right angles by what appears to be a "fault," running in a n.w. direction from the w. side of guttemberg. macclure.--one of a curious group of formations situated in the mare foecunditatis some distance s.w. of goclenius. it is a bright ring-plain, about 15 miles in diameter, with a narrow gap in the n.e. wall and a small central hill. a prominent ridge runs up to the n. border; and on the s.w. a rill-valley may be traced, extending s. to a bright deep little crater w. of cook. crozier.--a conspicuous ring-plain a few miles n.n.w. of macclure, and of about the same size. it has a faint central hill. neison refers to two long straight streaks extending from crozier towards messier. bellot.--a brilliant little ring-plain n.e. of crozier. cook.--a ring-plain, about 25 miles in diameter, on the e. side of the mare foecunditatis in s. lat. 17 deg., with low and (except on the s.e.) very narrow walls. there is a small circular depression on the s. border, and a prominent crater on the w. side of the dark interior. on the s.s.e. is the curiously shaped enclosure cook _d_, with very bright broad lofty walls and a fine central mountain. on the plain w. of cook is a conspicuous crater-row, consisting of six or seven craters, diminishing in size in both directions from the centre. colombo.--a fine ring-plain, about 50 miles in diameter, situated in the highlands separating the mare foecunditatis and the mare nectaris. the wall, rising at one place to a height of 8000 feet above the floor, is very complicated and irregular, being traversed within by many terraces, and almost everywhere by cross-valleys. its shape is greatly distorted by the large ring-plain _a_, which abuts on its n.e. flank. it loses its individuality altogether on the s., its place being occupied by two large depressions, and lofty mountains trending towards the s.e. in the centre there are several distinct bright elevations. magelhaens.--the more northerly and the larger of a pair of ring-plains between colombo and goclenius, with a bright and somewhat irregular though continuous border. the dark interior includes a small central mountain. its companion on the s.w., magelhaens _a_, slightly overlaps it. this also has a central hill, and a crater on the outer slope of its e. wall. santbech.--a very prominent ring-plain, 46 miles in diameter, on the s.e. side of the mare foecunditatis, w. of fracastorius. the continuity of its fine lofty rampart is broken on the w., where it rises nearly 10,000 feet above the floor, by a brilliant little crater just below the crest, and by a narrow gap on the s. the wall on the e. towers to a height of 15,000 feet above the interior. on its broad outer slope, near the summit, there is a fine crater, and s. of this running obliquely down the slope a distinct valley. on the n.e., where the _glacis_ runs down to the level of the surrounding plain, there is a large crateriform object with a broken n. border, and a small crater opposite the opening. a long coarse valley runs from this latter object in a n.e. direction to the region w. of bohnenberger. santbech contains a prominent central peak. biot.--a brilliant little ring-plain, scarcely more than 7 miles in diameter, standing in an isolated position in the mare foecunditatis n.e. of wrottesley. there is a number of bright streaks in its neighbourhood; and a few miles e. of it, in the hilly region w. of santbech, another conspicuous crater of about the same size. borda.--a ring-plain about 25 miles in diameter, s.s.w. of santbech, with a rampart low on the n. and s., but elsewhere of considerable height, and a very conspicuous central mountain. a wide deep valley flanked by lofty mountains extends from the n. wall for many miles towards the n.w. it is an especially noteworthy object when the w. wall of santbech is on the evening terminator, as its somewhat winding course, indicated by the bright summit-ridges of the bordering mountains, can be followed some hours before either the interior of the valley or the region between it and santbech are in sunlight. among the mountains w. of borda there is a peak more than 11,000 feet in height. snellius.--a very fine ring-plain, 50 miles in diameter, s.e. of petavius, with terraced walls, considerably broken on the s.e. by craters, &c. it rises on the e. nearly 7000 feet above a dark floor, which contains a central mountain. n.e. of snellius is a smaller ringplain (snellius _a_), and due e. a curious rough plateau, bordered on the n. and s. by a number of small craters. stevinus.--a somewhat larger ring-plain, s. of snellius, with a border rising on the s. to more than 11,000 feet above a dark interior, which includes a bright central mountain. reichenbach.--a very abnormally-shaped ring-plain, about 30 miles in diameter, with a rampart nearly 12,000 feet high. the border is broken on the w., s., and e. by craters and depressions, and on the n. is flanked by two overlapping ring-plains, _a_ and _b_. on the s.w. lies a magnificent serpentine valley, fully 100 miles in length and about 12 miles in breadth at the n. end, but gradually diminishing as it runs southwards, till it reaches a depression n. of rheita, where it terminates: here is scarcely more than 4 miles wide. rheita.--a formation, about 35 miles in diameter, s. of reichenbach, with regular lofty walls, rising at a peak on the n.e. to a height of more than 14,000 feet above the interior, on which there is a small but prominent central mountain, a smaller elevation w. of the centre, and two adjoining craters at the foot of the s. wall. on the e. originates another fine valley, very similar to that already mentioned in connection with reichenbach. it runs in a s.s.w. direction, is about 100 miles in length, and, in its widest part, is about 12 miles across. like the reichenbach valley, it terminates at a small crater-like object, which has a border broken down on the side facing the valley, and a small central hill. about midway between its extremities, this great gorge is crossed by a wall of rock, like a narrow bridge. janssen.--an immense irregular enclosure, reminding one of the very similar area, bordered by walter, lexell, hell, &c., in the third quadrant. it extends about 150 miles from e. to w., and more than 100 from n. to s., its limits on the n. being rather indefinite. its very rugged humpy surface includes one great central mountain, and innumerable minor hills and ridges, craters, and crater-pits; but the principal feature is the magnificent curved rill-valley running from the s. side of fabricius across the rough expanse to the s. side. this fine object, very coarse on the n., passes the central mountain on the e. side, and becomes gradually narrower as it approaches the border; before reaching which, another finer cleft branches from it on the w., and also runs to the s. side of the plain. lockyer.--a prominent deep ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, with massive bright lofty walls, standing just outside the s.e. border of janssen. schmidt shows a minute crater on the s. rim. i have seen a crater within, at the inner foot of the w. wall, and a central peak. fabricius.--a ring-plain, 55 miles in diameter, with a lofty terraced border, rising on the s.w. to a height of nearly 10,000 feet above the interior. it is partially included by the rampart of janssen, and the great rill-valley on the floor of the latter appears to cut through its s. wall. there is a long central mountain on the floor, with a prominent ridge extending along the e. side of it. w. of fabricius (between it and the border of janssen) lies a very irregular enclosure, with three distinct craters within it; and on the e., running from the wall to the e. side of janssen, is a straight narrow valley. both fabricius and janssen should be viewed under a low morning sun. steinheil.--a double ring-plain, w. of janssen, 27 miles in diameter. the more easterly formation sinks to a depth of nearly 12,000 feet below the summit of the border. metius.--this ring-plain, of about the same size as fabricius, but with a still loftier barrier, abuts on the n. wall of this formation, and has caused a very obvious deformation in its contour. it is prominently terraced internally, and on the w. the wall rises at one peak to a height of 13,000 feet above the floor, which contains a deep crater on the w. of the centre, and many ridges. biela.--a considerable ring-plain, about 55 miles in diameter, s.w. of janssen, with a wall broken on the n.w., s., and e. by rings and large enclosures. there is a central mountain, but apparently no other details on the floor. rosenberger.--this formation, about 50 miles in diameter, is one of the remarkable group of large rings to which vlacq, hommel, pitiscus, &c., belong. its walls, though of only moderate altitude, are distinctly terraced. in addition to a prominent central mountain (e. of which schmidt shows two craters), there is a large crater on the s. side of the floor, and many smaller craters and crater-pits. hagecius.--the most westerly member of the vlacq group of formations. it is situated on the s.w. of rosenberger, and is about 50 miles in diameter. the rampart on the e. is continuous and of the normal type, but on the opposite side is broken by a number of smaller rings. west longitude 40 deg. to 20 deg. censorinus.--a brilliant little crater, with very bright surroundings, in the mare tranquilitatis, nearly on the moon's equator, in w. long. 32 deg. 22 min. another smaller but less conspicuous crater adjoins it on the w. on the mare to the s. extends a delicate cleft which trends towards the sabine and ritter rill system. capella.--forms with isodorus, its companion on the e. (which it partially overlaps), a very noteworthy object. it is about 30 miles in diameter, with finely terraced walls, broken on the s.w. by broad intrusive rill-valleys. the rampart on the n.e. is also cut through by a magnificent valley, which extends for many miles beyond the limits of the formation. there is a fine central mountain, on which m. gaudibert discovered a crater, the existence of which has been subsequently verified by professor weinek on a lick observatory negative. isodorus.--the rampart of this fine ring-plain, which is of about the same size as capella, rises at a peak on the w. to a height of more than 13,000 feet above the interior, which, except a small bright crater at the foot of the e. wall and a smaller one adjoining it on the n., contains no detail. the region between isodorus and the equator includes many interesting objects, among them isodorus _b_, an irregular formation open towards the n., and containing several craters. bohnenberger.--a ring-plain about 22 miles in diameter, situated on the w. side of the mare nectaris, under the precipitous flanks of the pyrenees, whose prominent shadows partially conceal it for many hours after sunrise. the circular border is comparatively low, and, except on the n., continuous. here there is a gap, and on the w. of it an intrusive mass of rock. from its very peculiar shadow at sunrise, the wall on the e. appears to be very irregular. the club-shaped central mountain is of considerable size, but not conspicuous. s. of bohnenberger stands the very attenuated ring, bohnenberger a. it is of about the same diameter, has a large deep crater on its n. rim, and a smaller one, distinguished with difficulty, on its s.e. rim. on the n. of bohnenberger there is a bright little ring-plain connected with the formation by a lofty ridge, under the e. flank of which schmidt shows a crater-chain. an especially fine cleft originates on the e. side of this crater, which, following an undulating course over the mare nectaris, terminates at rosse, n. of fracastorius. torricelli.--a remarkable little formation in the mare tranquilitatis, n. of theophilus, consisting of two unequal contiguous craters ranging from w. to e., whose partition wall has nearly disappeared, so that, under a low sun, when the interior of both is filled with shadow, the pair resemble the head of a javelin. the larger, western, ring is about 10 miles in diameter, and the other about half this size. there is a gap in the w. wall of the first, and a long spur projecting from its s. side; and a minute crater on the s. border of the smaller object. torricelli is partially enclosed on the s. by a circular arrangement of ridges. there is a delicate cleft running in a meridional direction on the mare, e. of the formation, and another on the n., running from w. to e. hypatia.--a ring-plain, about 30 miles in extreme length, of very abnormal shape, on the e. side of the mare, n.n.e. of theophilus, with a wall rising at a peak on the e. to a height of more than 7000 feet above a dusky floor, which does not apparently contain any detail. a small crater breaks the uniformity of the border on the w. beyond the wall on the s.e. lies the fine bright crater hypatia a, with another less prominent adjoining it on the s.w. theophilus.--the most northerly of three of the noblest ring-mountains on the visible surface of the moon, situated on the n.e. side of the mare nectaris. it is nearly 64 miles in diameter, and is enclosed by a mighty rampart towering above the floor at one peak on the w. to the height of 18,000 feet, and at two other peaks on the opposite side to nearly 16,000 and 14,000. the border, though appearing nearly circular with low powers, is seen, under greater magnification, to be made up of several more or less linear sections, which give it a polygonal outline. it is prominently terraced within, the loftier terraces on the w. rising nearly to the height of the crest of the wall, and including several craters and elongated depressions. on the w. _glacis_ is a row of large inosculating craters; and near its foot, s.e. of madler, a short unrecorded rillvalley. the magnificent bright central mountain is composed of many distinct masses surmounted by lofty peaks, one of which is about 6000 feet above the floor, and covers an area of at least 300 square miles. except a distinct crater on the s.w. quarter, this appears to be the only object within the ring. cyrillus.--the massive border of theophilus partially overlaps the n.w. side of this great walled-plain, which is even more complex than that of its neighbour, and far more irregular in form, exhibiting many linear sections. its crest on the s.e. is clearly inflected towards the interior, a peculiarity that has already been noticed in connection with copernicus and some other objects. on the inner slope of this wall there is a large bright crater, in connection with which have been detected two delicate rills extending to the summit. i have not seen these, but one of the crater-rows shown by schmidt, between this crater and the crest, has often been noted. the n.e. wall is very remarkable. it appears to be partially wrecked. if observed at an early stage of sunrise, a great number of undulating ridges and rows of hillocks will be seen crossing the region e. of theophilus. they resemble a consolidated stream of "ropy" lava which has flowed through and over the wall and down the _glacis_. the arrangement of the ridges within cyrillus is very noteworthy, as is also the triple mountain near the centre of the floor. the fine curved cleft thereon traverses the w. side, sweeping round the central mountains, and then turning to the south. i have only occasionally seen it in its entirety. there are also two oblong dark patches on the s. side of the interior. the s. wall of cyrillus is broken by a narrow pass opening out into a valley situated on the plateau which bounds the w. side of the oblong formation lying between it and catherina, and overlooking a curious shallow square-shaped enclosure abutting on the s.w. side of cyrillus. catherina.--the largest of the three great formations: a ring-plain with a very irregular outline, extending more than 70 miles in a meridional direction, and of still greater width. the wall is comparatively narrow and low on the n.e. (8000 feet above the floor), but on the n.w. it rises to more than double this height, and is broken by some large depressions. the inner slope on the s.e. is very gentle, and includes two bright craters, but exhibits only slight indications of terraces. the most remarkable features on an otherwise even interior are the large low narrow ring (with a crater within it), occupying fully a third of the area of the floor, and a large ring-plain on the s. side. madler.--the interest attaching to this formation is not to be measured by its size, for it is only about 20 miles in diameter, but by the remarkable character of its surroundings. its bright regular wall, rising 6000 feet on the e. and only about half as much on the w., above a rather dark interior, is everywhere continuous, except at one place on the n. here there is a narrow gap (flanked on the e. by a somewhat obscure little crater) through which a curious bent ridge coming up from the n. passes, and, extending on to the floor, expands into something resembling a central mountain. under a high sun madler has a very peculiar appearance. the lofty e. wall is barely perceptible, while the much lower w. border is conspicuously brilliant; and the e. half of the floor is dark, while the remainder, with two objects representing the loftier portions of the intrusive ridge, is prominently white. under an evening sun, with the terminator lying some distance to the w., a very remarkable obscure ring with a low border, a valley running round it on the w. side, and two large central mounds, may be easily traced. this object is connected with madler by what appears to be under a higher sun a bright elbow-shaped marking, in connection with which i have often suspected a delicate cleft. between the obtuse-angled bend of this object and the w. wall of madler, two large circular dark spots may be seen under a high sun; and on the surface of the mare n. of it, a great number of delicate white spots. beaumont.--a ring-plain about 30 miles in diameter, on the s.e. side of the mare nectaris, midway between theophilus and fracastorius, with the n.e. side of which it is connected by a chain of large depressions. its border is lofty, regular, and continuous on the s. and e., but on the w. it is low, and on the n. sinks to such a very inconsiderable height that it is often scarcely traceable. it exhibits two breaks on the s.w., through one of which passes a coarse valley that ultimately runs on the e. side of the depressions just referred to. the interior is pitted with many craters, one on the w. side being shallow but of considerable size. i once counted twenty with a 4 inch cooke achromatic, and dr. sheldon of macclesfield subsequently noted many more. a ridge, prominent under oblique light, follows a winding course from the n.w. side of beaumont to the w. side of theophilus, and there is another lower ridge e. of it. between them is included a region covered with minute hillocks and asperities. among these objects are certain dusky little crater-cones, which dr. klein of cologne regards as true analogues of some terrestrial volcanoes. they are very similar in character to those, already alluded to, in the dusky area between copernicus and gambart. kant.--a conspicuous ring-plain, 23 miles in diameter, situated in a mountainous district e. of theophilus, with lofty terraced walls and a bright central peak. adjoining it on the w. is a mountain mass, projecting from the coast-line of the mare, on which there is a peak rising to more than 14,000 feet above the surface. fracastorius.--this great bay or inflexion at the extreme s. end of the mare nectaris, about 60 miles in diameter, is one of the largest and most suggestive examples of a partially destroyed formation to be found on the visible surface. the w. section of the rampart is practically complete and unbroken, rising at one peak to a height of 6000 feet above the interior. it is very broad at its s. end, and its inner slope descends with a gentle gradient to the floor. towards the n., however, it rapidly decreases in width, but apparently not in altitude, till near its bright pointed n. extremity. under a low sun, some long deformed crateriform depressions may be seen on the slope, and a bright little crater on the crest of the border near its n. end. the southern rampart is broken by three large craters, and a fine valley, running some distance in a s. direction, which diminishes gradually in width till it ultimately resembles a cleft, and terminates at a small crater. the e. border is very lofty and irregular, rising at the n. corner of the large triangular formation, which is such a prominent feature upon it, to a height of 7000 feet, and at a point on the s.e. to considerably more than 8000 feet above the floor. n. of the former peak it becomes much lower and narrower, and is finally only represented by a very attenuated strip of wall, hardly more prominent than the brighter portions of the border of stadius at sunrise, terminating at an obscure semi-ring-plain. between this and the pointed n. termination of the w. border there is a wide gap, open to the north for a space of about 30 miles, appearing, except under very oblique illumination, as smooth and as devoid of detail as the grey surface of the mare nectaris itself. if, however, this interval is observed at sunrise or sunset, it is seen to be not quite so structureless as it appears under different conditions, for a number of mounds and large humpy swellings, with low hills and craterlets, extend across it, and occupy a position which we are justified in regarding as the site of a section of the rampart, which, from some cause or other, has been completely destroyed and overlaid with the material, whatever this may be, of the mare nectaris. the floor of fracastorius is, as regards the light streaks and other features upon it, only second in interest to those of plato and archimedes, and will repay systematic observation. between thirty and forty light spots and craters have been recorded on its surface, most of them, as in these formations, being situated either on or at the edges of the light streaks. on the higher portion of the interior (near the centre) is a curious object consisting apparently of four light spots, arranged in a square, with a craterlet in the middle, all of which undergo (as i have pointed out elsewhere) notable changes of aspect under different phases. there are at least two distinct clefts on the floor, one running from the w. wall towards the centre, and another on the s.e. side of the interior. the last throws out two branches towards the s.w. rosse.--a fine bright deep crater in the mare nectaris, n. of the pointed termination of the w. wall of fracastorius, with which it is connected by a bold curved ridge, with a crater upon it. a ray from tycho, striking along the e. wall of fracastorius passes near this object. a rill from near bohnenberger terminates at this crater. polybius.--a ring-plain, about 17 miles in diameter, in the hilly region s.e. of fracastorius. the border is unbroken, except on the n., where it is interrupted by a group of depressions. there is a long valley on the s.w., at the bottom of which schmidt shows a crater-chain. neander.--this ring-plain, 34 miles in diameter, a short distance w.s.w. of piccolomini, has a somewhat deformed rampart, which, however, except on the n., where there is a narrow gap occupied by a small crater, is continuous. it rises on the e. nearly 8000 feet above the floor, on which there is a central mountain about 2500 feet high. schmidt shows some minor hills, a large crater on the n.e. side, and three smaller craters in the interior. piccolomini.--a ring-plain of a very massive type, about 57 miles in diameter, s. of fracastorius, with complex and prominently terraced walls, surmounted by very many peaks; one of which on the e. attains a height of 14,000 feet, and another, n. of it, on the same side, an altitude of 15,000 feet above the interior. the crest of this grand rampart is tolerably continuous, except on the s.w., where, for a distance of twenty miles or more, its character as regards form and brightness is entirely changed. under a low sun, instead of a continuous bright border, we note a wide gap occupied by a dusky rugged plateau, which falls with a gentle gradient to the floor, and is traversed by three or four parallel shallow valleys running towards the s. i can recall no lunar formation which presents an appearance at all like this: one is impressed with the idea that it has resulted from the collapse of the upper portion of the wall, and the flow of some viscous material over the wreck and down the inner slope. the difference between the reflective power of this matter, whatever may be its nature, and the broad bright declivities of the inner slopes, are beautifully displayed at sunset. the cross-valleys are more easily traced under low morning illumination; but to appreciate the actual structure of the wall, it should be observed under both phases. the n.w. section of the border includes many "pockets," or long elliptical depressions, which at an early stage of sunrise give a scalloped appearance to the crest. except the great bright central mountain with its numerous peaks, there does not appear to be any prominent detail on the floor. there is a large ring-plain beyond the foot of the _glacis_ on the w. with two craters on the e. side of it, another on the s., and a fine rill-valley running up to its n. side from near the crest of the w. wall. on the n. side of piccolomini is a remarkable group of deformed and overlapping enclosures, mingled with numberless craters and little depressions. the plain on the n.e. is crossed by a fine cleft. pons.--a complete formation of irregular shape, about 20 miles in greatest diameter, on the s.e. side of the altai range, in w. long. 21 deg. it consists of a crowd of rings and craters enclosed by a narrow wall. stiborius.--an elongated ring-plain, about 22 miles in diameter, s. of piccolomini, with a lofty wall, broken in one place on the n. by a very conspicuous crater. schmidt shows a distinct crater in the centre of the floor. i have only seen a central mountain in this position. there is a large crater on the n.w., a ring-plain on the s.w. side, and a multitude of little craters on the surrounding plain. riccius.--a ring-plain, 51 miles in diameter, of a very irregular type, s.e. of the last. it is enclosed by a complex wall (which is in places double), broken by large rings on the s. the very conspicuous little ring-plain riccius a is situated on the n. of it, and other less prominent features. the interior includes a bright crater and some smaller objects of the same class. zagut.--the most easterly of a group of closely associated irregular walled-plains, of which lindenau and rabbi levi are the other members, all evidently deformed and modified in shape by their proximity. it is about 45 miles in diameter, and is enclosed by a wall which on the s.w. attains a height of about 9500 feet, and is much broken on the n. by a number of depressions. a large ring-plain, some 20 miles in diameter, occupies a considerable portion of the w. side of the interior; e. of which, and nearly central, there is a large bright crater, but apparently no other conspicuous details. on the s.e. side of zagut lies an elliptical ring-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, named by schmidt celsius. the border of this is open on the n., the gap being occupied by a large crater, whose s. wall is wanting, so that the interiors of both formations are in communication. lindenau.--this formation, about 35 miles in diameter, is bounded on the w. by a regular unbroken wall nearly 8600 feet in height; but which on the e. and n.e. is far loftier and more complex, rising to about 12,000 feet above the floor, consisting of four or more distinct ramparts, separated by deep valleys, and extending towards rabbi levi. neison points out that under a high light lindenau appears to have a bright uniform single wall. there is a small central mountain and some minor inequalities in the interior. rabbi levi.--a larger but less obvious formation than either of its neighbours, zagut and lindenau, abutting on the s. side of them. it is about 55 miles in diameter, and is enclosed by a border somewhat difficult to trace in its entirety, except under oblique light. there are some large craters within it, of which one on the n. side of the floor is especially prominent. nicolai.--a tolerably regular ring-plain, 18 miles in diameter, s. of riccius, with a border, rising more than 6000 feet above a level floor, on the n. side of which schmidt shows a minute crater. the bright plain surrounding this formation abounds in small craters; and on the w. is a number of curious enclosures, many of them overlapping. vlacq.--a member of a magnificent group of closely associated formations situated on the greatly disturbed area between w. long. 30 deg. and 45 deg. and s. lat. 50 deg. and 60 deg. it is 57 miles in diameter, and is enclosed by terraced walls, rising on the w. about 8000 feet, and on the e. more than 10,000 feet above the floor. they are broken on the s. by a fine crater. in addition to a conspicuous central peak, there are several small craters, and low short ridges in the interior. hommel.--adjoins vlacq on the s. it is a somewhat larger and a far more irregular formation. on every side except the w., where the border is unbroken, and descends with a gentle slope to the dark interior; ringplains and smaller depressions encroach on its outline, perhaps the most remarkable being hommel _a_ on the n., which has an especially brilliant wall, that includes a conspicuous central mountain, a large crater, and other details. the best phase for observing hommel and its surroundings is when the w. wall is just within the evening terminator. pitiscus.--the most regular of the vlacq group. it is situated on the n.e. of hommel (a curious oblong-shaped enclosure, hommel _h_, with a very attenuated e. wall, and a large crater on a floor, standing at a higher level than that of pitiscus, intervening). it is 52 miles in diameter, and is surrounded by an apparently continuous rampart, except on the e., where there is a crater, and on the s.w., where it abuts on hommel _h_. here there is a wide gap crossed by what has every appearance of being a "fault," resembling that in phocylides on a smaller scale. there is a fine crater on the n. side of the interior connected with the s. wall by a bright ridge. just beyond the e. border there is a shallow ring-plain of a very extraordinary shape. nearch.--a ring-plain, about 35 miles in diameter, on the s.w. of hommel, forming part of the vlacq group. tannerus.--a ring-plain, about 19 miles in diameter, between mutus and bacon. it has a central mountain. mutus.--a fine but foreshortened walled plain, 51 miles in diameter. there are two ring-plains of about equal size on the floor, one on the n., and the other on the s. side. the wall on the w. rises to nearly 14,000 feet above the interior. manzinus.--a walled plain, nearly 62 miles in diameter, with a terraced rampart rising to a height of more than 14,500 feet above the interior. schmidt shows three craterlets on the floor, but no traces of the small central peak which is said to stand thereon, but to be only visible in large telescopes. schomberger.--a large walled-plain adjoining simpelius on the s.w. too near the limb for satisfactory observation. west longitude 20 deg. to 0 deg. delambre.--a conspicuous ring-plain, 32 miles in diameter, a little s. of the equator, in w. long. 17 deg. 30 min., with a massive polygonal border, terraced within, rising on the w. to the great height of 15,000 feet above the interior, but to little more than half this on the opposite side. its outline approximates to that of a pentagon with slightly curved sides. a section on the s.e. exhibits an inflexion towards the centre. the crest is everywhere continuous except on the n., where it is broken by a deep crater with a bright rim. the north-easterly trend of the ridges and hillocks on the e. is especially noteworthy. the central peak is not prominent, but close under it on the e. is a deep fissure, extending from near the centre, and dying out before it reaches the s. border. at the foot of the n.e. _glacis_ there are traces of a ring with low walls. theon, sen.--a brilliant little ring-plain, e.n.e. of delambre, 11 miles in diameter, and of great depth, with a regular and perfectly unbroken wall. north of it is a bright little crater. theon, jun.--a ring-plain similar in size and in other respects to the last, situated about 23 miles s. of it on a somewhat dusky surface. between the pair is a curious oblong-shaped mountain mass; and on the e. a long cliff (of no great altitude, but falling steeply on the e. side) extending s. towards taylor _a_. just below the escarpment, i find a brilliant little pair of craterlets, of which neison only shows one. alfraganus.--a large bright crater, about 9 miles in diameter, with very steep walls, some distance s.s.w. of delambre, and standing on the w. edge of a large but very shallow and irregular depression w. of taylor. there is a remarkable chain of craters on the w. of it. alfraganus is the centre of a system of light streaks radiating in all directions, one ray extending through cyrillus to fracastorius. taylor.--a deep spindle-shaped ring-plain, s. of delambre, about 22 miles in length. the wall appears to be everywhere continuous, except at the extreme n. and s. ends, where there are small craters. the outer slopes, both on the e. and w., are very broad and prominent, but apparently not terraced. there is an inconspicuous central hill. on the w. is the irregular enclosure, already referred to under alfraganus. three or four short winding valleys traverse the n. edge of this formation, and descend to the dark floor. on the n.e. is the remarkable ring-plain taylor _a_, 18 miles in diameter, rising, at an almost isolated mountain mass on the e. border, to a height of 7000 feet above the interior. the more regular and w. section of this formation is not so lofty, and falls with a gentle slope to the dark uneven floor, on which there is some detail in the shape of small bright ridges and mounds. on the surface, n.w. of taylor _a_, is a curious linear row of bright little hills. taylor and the vicinity is better seen under low evening illumination than under morning light. hipparchus.--except under a low sun, this immense walled-plain is by no means so striking an object as a glance at its representation on a chart of the moon would lead one to expect; for the border, in nearly every part of it, bears unmistakable evidence of wreck and ruin, its continuity being interrupted by depressions, transverse valleys, and gaps, and it nowhere attains a great altitude. this imperfect enclosure extends 97 miles from n. to s., and about 88 miles from e. to w., and in shape approximates to that of a rhombus with curved sides. one of the most prominent bright craters on its border is hipparchus g, on the w. another, of about the same size, is hipparchus e, on the n. of horrocks. on the e. there is a moderately bright crater, hipparchus f; and s. of this, on the same side, two others, k and i. the interior is crossed by many ridges, and near the centre includes the relics of a low ring, traversed by a narrow rill-like valley. schmidt shows a cleft running from f across the floor to the s. border. [a valuable monograph of hipparchus, by mr. w.b. birt, was published in 1870.] horrocks.--this fine ring-plain, 18 miles in diameter, stands on the n. side of the interior of hipparchus, close to the border. it has a continuous wall, rising on the e. to a height of nearly 8000 feet above the interior, and a distinct central mountain. halley.--a ring-plain, 21 miles in diameter, on the s.w. border of hipparchus, with a bright wall, rising at one point on the e. to a height of 7500 feet above the floor, which is depressed about 4000 feet below the surface. two craterlets on the floor, one discovered by birt on rutherfurd's photogram of 1865, and the other by gaudibert, raised a suspicion of recent lunar activity within this ring. a magnificent valley, shown in part by schmidt as a crater-row, runs from the s. of halley to the w. side of albategnius. hind.--a ring-plain, 16 miles in diameter, a few miles w. of halley, with a peak on its e. wall 10,000 feet above the floor. the border is broken both on the s.e. and n.e. by small craters. [horrocks, halley, and hind may be regarded as strictly belonging to hipparchus.] albategnius.--a magnificent walled-plain, 65 miles in diameter, adjoining hipparchus on the s., surrounded by a massive complex rampart, prominently terraced, including many depressions, and crossed by several valleys. it is surmounted by very lofty peaks, one of which on the n.e. stands nearly 15,000 feet above the floor. the great ring-plain albategnius a, 28 miles in diameter, intrudes far within the limits of the formation on the e., and its towering crest rises more than 10,000 feet above its floor, on which there is a small central mountain. the central mountain of albategnius is more than 4000 feet high, and, with the exception of a few minor elevations, is the only prominent feature in the interior, though there are many small craters. schmidt counted forty with the berlin refractor, among them 12 on the e. side, arranged like a string of pearls. parrot.--an irregularly-shaped formation, 41 miles in diameter, s. of albategnius, with a very discontinuous margin, interrupted on every side by gaps and depressions, large and small; the most considerable of which is the regular ring-plain parrot _a_, on the e. an especially fine valley, shown by schmidt to consist in part of large inosculating craters, cuts through the wall on the s.w., and runs on the e. side of argelander towards airy. the floor of parrot is very rugged. descartes.--this object, about 30 miles in diameter, situated n.w. of abulfeda, is bounded by ill-defined, broken, and comparatively low walls; interrupted on the s.e. by a fine crater, descartes a, and on the s.w. by another, smaller. there is also a brilliant crater outside on the n.w. schmidt shows a crater-row on the floor, which i have seen as a cleft. dollond.--a bright crater, about 6 miles in diameter, on the n.e. side of descartes. between it and the latter there is a rill-valley. tacitus.--a bright ring-plain, about 28 miles in diameter, a few miles e. of catherina, with a lofty wall rising both on the e. and w. to more than 11,000 feet above the floor. its continuity is broken on the n. by a gap occupied by a depression, and there is a conspicuous crater below the crest on the s.w. the central mountain is connected with the n. wall by a ridge, recalling the same arrangement within madler. a range of lofty hills, an offshoot of the altai range, extends from tacitus towards fermat. almanon.--this ring-plain, with its companion abulfeda on the n.e., is a very interesting telescopic object. it is about 36 miles in diameter, and is surrounded by an irregular border of polygonal shape, the greatest altitude of which is about 6000 feet above the floor on the w. it is slightly terraced, and is broken on the s. by a deep crater pertaining to the bright and large formation tacitus _b_, the e. border of which casts a fine double-peaked shadow at sunrise. on the n.w. there is another bright crater, the largest of the row, running in a w.s.w. direction, and forming a w. extension of the remarkable crater-chain tangential to the borders of almanon and abulfeda. the only objects on the floor are three little hills, in a line, near the centre, a winding ridge on the w. side of it, and two or three other low elevations. abulfeda.--a larger and more massive formation than almanon, 39 miles in diameter, the e. wall rising about 10,000 feet above the interior, which is depressed more than 3000 feet. it is continuous on the w., but much broken by transverse valleys on the s.e., and by little depressions on the n. on the s.e. originates the very curious bright crater-row which runs in a straight line to the n.w. wall of almanon, crossing for the first few miles the lofty table-land lying on the s.e. side of the border. with the exception of a low central mountain, the interior of abulfeda contains no visible detail. the rampart is finely terraced on the e. and w. the e. _glacis_ is very rugged. argelander.--this conspicuous ring-plain, about 20 miles in diameter, is, if we except two smaller inosculating rings on the s.w. flank of albategnius, the most northerly of a remarkable serpentine chain of seven moderately-sized formations, extending for nearly 180 miles from the s.w. of parrot to the n. side of blanchinus. its border is lofty, slightly terraced within, and includes a central peak. airy.--about 22 miles in diameter, connected with argelander by a depression bounded by linear walls. its border, double on the s.e., is broken on the s. by a prominent crater, with a smaller companion on the w. of it; and again on the n.e. by another not so conspicuous. it has a central peak. the next link in the chain of ring-plains is airy _c_, a very irregular object, somewhat larger, and with, for the most part, linear walls. donati.--a ring-plain on the s. of airy _c_, about 22 miles in greatest length. it is very irregular in outline, with a lofty broken border, especially on the n. and s., where there are wide gaps. there is another ring on the s.e. faye.--the direction of the chain swerves considerably towards the e. at this formation, which resembles donati both in size and in irregularity of outline. the wall, where it is not broken, is slightly terraced. there is a craterlet on the s. rim and a central crater in the interior. delaunay.--adjoins faye on the s.e., and is a larger and more complex object, of irregular form, with very lofty peaks on its border. a prominent ridge of great height traverses the formation from n. to s., abutting on the w. border of lacaille. delaunay is the last link in the chain commencing with argelander. lacaille.--an oblong enclosure situated on the n. side of blanchinus, and apparently about 30 miles in greatest diameter. the border is to a great extent linear and continuous on the n., but elsewhere abounds in depressions. two large inosculating ring-plains are associated with the n.e. wall. blanchinus.--a large walled-plain on the w. of purbach and abutting on the s. side of lacaille. it much resembles purbach in shape, but has lower walls. schmidt shows a crater on the n. side of the floor, which i have seen, and a number of parallel ridges which have not been noted, probably because they are only visible under very oblique light. geber.--a bright ring-plain, 25 miles in diameter, s. of almanon, with a regular border, rising to a height on the w. of nearly 9000 feet above the floor. there is a small crater on the crest of the s. wall, and another on the n. a ring-plain about 8 miles in diameter adjoins the formation on the n.e. according to neison, there is a feeble central hill, which, however, is not shown by schmidt. sacrobosco.--this is one of those extremely abnormal formations which are almost peculiar to certain regions in the fourth quadrant. it is about 50 miles in greatest diameter, and is enclosed by a rampart of unequal height, rising on the e. to 12,000 feet above the floor, but sinking in places to a very moderate altitude. on the n. its contour is, if possible, rendered still more irregular by the intrusion of a smaller ring-plain. on the n.e. side of the floor stands a very bright little crater and two others on the s. of the centre, each with central mountains. fermat.--an irregular ring-plain 25 miles in diameter on the w. of sacrobosco. its partially terraced wall is broken on the n. by a gap which communicates with the interior of a smaller formation. there are some low hills on the floor, which is depressed 6000 feet below the crest of the border. azophi.--a prominent ring-plain, 30 miles in diameter, e.n.e. of sacrobosco, its lofty barrier towering nearly 11,000 feet above a somewhat dusky interior, which includes some light spots. a massive curved mountain arm runs from the s. side of this formation to a small ring-plain w. of playfair. abenezra.--when observed near the morning terminator, this noteworthy ring-plain, 27 miles in diameter, seems to be divided into two by a curved ridge which traverses the formation from n. to s., and extends beyond its limits. the irregular border rises on the w. to a height of more than 14,000 feet above the deeply-sunken floor, which includes several craters, hills, and ridges. apianus.--a magnificent ring-plain, 38 miles in diameter, n.w. of aliacensis, with lofty terraced walls, rising on the n.e. to about 9000 feet above the interior, and crowned on the w. by three large conspicuous craters. the border is broken on the n. by a smaller depression and a large ring with low walls. the dark-grey floor appears to be devoid of conspicuous detail. playfair.--a ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, with massive walls. it is situated on the n. of apianus, and is connected with it by a mountain arm. the rampart is tolerably continuous, but varies considerably in altitude, rising on the s. to a height of more than 8000 feet above the interior. on the e., extending towards blanchinus, is a magnificent unnamed formation, bounded on the e. by a broad lofty rampart flanking blanchinus, lacaille, delaunay, and faye; and on the w. by playfair and the mountain arm just mentioned. it is fully 60 miles in length from n. to s. sunrise on this region affords a fine spectacle to the observer with a large telescope. the best phase is when the morning terminator intersects aliacensis, as at this time the long jagged shadows of the e. wall of playfair and of the mountain arm are very prominent on the smooth, greyish-blue surface of this immense enclosure. pontanus.--an irregular ring-plain, 28 miles in diameter, s.s.w. of azophi, with a low broken border, interrupted on the s.w. by a smaller ring-plain, which forms one of a group extending towards the s.w. the dark floor includes a central mountain. aliacensis.--this ring-plain, 53 miles in diameter, with its neighbour werner on the n.e., are beautiful telescopic objects under a low sun. its lofty terraced border rises at one peak on the e. to the tremendous height of 16,500 feet, and at another on the opposite side to nearly 12,000 feet above the floor. the wall on the s. is broken by a crater, and on the w. traversed by narrow passes. there is also a prominent crater on the inner slope of the n.e. wall. the floor includes a small mountain, several little hills, and a crater. werner.--a ring-plain, 45 miles in diameter, with a massive rampart crowned by peaks almost as lofty as any on that of aliacensis, and with terraces fully as conspicuous. it has a magnificent central mountain, 4500 feet high. at the foot of the n.e. wall madler observed a small area, which he describes as rivalling the central peak of aristarchus in brilliancy. webb, however, was unable to confirm this estimate, though he noted it as very bright, and saw a minute black pit and narrow ravine within it. neison subsequently found that the black pit is a crater-cone. it would perhaps be rash, with our limited knowledge of minute lunar detail, to assert that madler over-estimated the brightness of this area, which may have been due to a _recent_ deposit round the orifice of the crater-cone. poisson.--an irregular formation on the w. of aliacensis, extending about 50 miles from w. to e., but much less in a meridional direction. its n. limits are marked by a number of overlapping ring-plains and craters, and it is much broken elsewhere by smaller depressions. the e. wall is about 7000 feet in height. gemma frisius.--a great composite walled-plain, 80 miles or more in length from n. to s., with a wall rising at one place nearly 14,000 feet above the floor. it is broken on the n. by two fine ring-plains, each about 20 miles in diameter, and on the e. by a third open to the e. there is a central mountain, and several small craters on the floor, especially on the w. side. busching.--a ring-plain s. of zagut, about 36 miles in diameter, with a moderately high but irregular wall. there are several craterlets within and some low hills. buch.--adjoins busching on the s.e. it is about 31 miles in diameter, and has a less broken barrier. there is a large crater on the e. wall, and another smaller one on the s.w. schmidt shows nothing on the floor, but neison noted two minute crater-cones. maurolycus.--this unquestionably ranks as one of the grandest walledplains on the moon's visible surface, and when viewed under a low sun presents a spectacle which is not easily effaced from the mind. like so many of the great enclosures in the fourth quadrant, it impresses one with the notion that we have here the result of the crowding together of a number of large rings which, when they were in a semi-fluid or viscous condition, mutually deformed each other. it extends fully 150 miles from e. to w., and more from n. to s.; so it may be taken to include an area on the lunar globe which is, roughly speaking, equal to half the superficies of ireland. this vast space, bounded by one of the loftiest, most massive, and prominently-terraced ramparts, includes ring-plains, craters, crater-rows, and valleys,--in short, almost every type of lunar formation. it towers on the e. to a height of nearly 14,000 feet above the interior, and on the w., according to schmidt, to a still greater altitude. a fine rill-valley curves round the outer slope of the w. wall, just below its crest, which is an easy object in a 8 1/2 inch reflector when the opposite border is on the morning terminator, and could doubtless be seen in a smaller instrument; and there is an especially brilliant crater on the s. border, which is not visible till a somewhat later stage of sunrise. the central mountain is of great altitude, its loftiest peaks standing out amid the shadow long before a ray of sunlight has reached the lower slopes of the walls. it is associated with a number of smaller elevations. i have seen three considerable craters and several smaller ones in the interior. barocius.--a massive formation, about 50 miles in diameter, on the s.w. side of maurolycus, whose border it overlaps and considerably deforms. its wall rises on the e. to a height of 12,000 feet above the floor, and is broken on the n.w. by two great ring-plains. on the inner slope of the s.e. border is a curious oblong enclosure. there is nothing remarkable in the interior. on the dusky grey plain w. of maurolycus and barocius there is a number of little formations, many of them being of a very abnormal shape, which are well worthy of examination. i have seen two short unrecorded clefts in connection with these objects. stofler.--a grand object, very similar in size and general character to maurolycus, its neighbour on the w. to view it and its surroundings at the most striking phase, it should be observed when the morning terminator lies a little e. of the w. wall. at this time the jagged, clean-cut, shadows of the peaks on faraday and the w. border, the fine terraces, depressions, and other features on the illuminated section of the gigantic rampart, and the smooth bluish-grey floor, combine to make a most beautiful telescopic picture. at a peak on the n.e., the wall attains a height of nearly 12,000 feet, but sinks to a little more than a third of this height on the e. it is apparently loftiest on the n. the most conspicuous of the many craters upon it is the bright deep circular depression e. on the s. wall, and another, rather larger and less regular, on the n.w., which has a very low rim on the side facing the floor, and a craterlet on either side of the apparent gap. a large lozenge-shaped enclosure abuts on the wall, near the crater e., with a border crowned by a number of little peaks, which at an early stage of sunrise resemble a chaplet of pearls. the floor of stofler is apparently very level, and in colour recalls the beautiful steel-grey tone of plato seen under certain conditions. i have noted several distinct little craters on its surface, mostly on the n.e. side; and on the e. side a triangular dark patch, close to the foot of the wall, very similar in size and appearance to those within alphonsus. faraday.--a large ring-plain, about 35 miles in diameter, overlapping the s.w. border of stofler; its own rampart being overlapped in its turn by two smaller ring-plains on the s.e., and by two still smaller formations (one of which is square-shaped) on the n.w. the wall is broad and very massive on the e. and n.e., prominently terraced, and includes many brilliant little craters. schmidt shows a ridge and several craters in the interior. licetus.--an irregular formation, about 50 miles in maximum width, on the s. of stofler, with the flanks of which it is connected by a coarse valley. neison points out that it consists of a group of ring-plains united into one, owing to the separating walls having been partially destroyed. this seems to be clearly the case, if licetus is examined under a low sun. on the e. side of the n. portion of the formation, the wall rises to nearly 13,000 feet. fernelius.--a ring-plain, about 30 miles in diameter, abutting on the n. wall of stofler. it is overlapped on the e. by another similar formation of about half its size. there are many craters and depressions on the borders of both, and a large crater between the smaller enclosure and the n.e. outer slope of stofler. schmidt shows eight craters on the floor of fernelius. nonius.--a ring-plain, about 20 miles in diameter, abutting on the n. wall of fernelius. there is a prominent bright crater on the w. of it, and another on the n., from which a delicate valley runs towards the w. side of walter. clairaut.--a very peculiar formation, about 40 miles in diameter, s. of maurolycus, affording another good example of interference and overlapping. the continuity of its border, nowhere very regular, has been entirely destroyed on the s. by the subsequent formation of two large rings, some 10 or 12 miles in diameter, the more easterly of which has, in its turn, been partially wrecked on the n. by a smaller object of the same class. there is also a ring-plain n.e. of clairaut, which has very clearly modified the shape of the border on this side. two craters on the floor of clairaut are easy objects. bacon.--a very fine ring-plain, 40 miles in diameter, s.w. of clairaut. at one peak on the e. the terraced wall rises to nearly 14,000 feet above the interior. it is broken on the s. by three or four craters. on the w. there is an irregular inconspicuous enclosure, whose contiguity has apparently modified the shape of the border. there are two large rings on the n. (the more easterly having a central peak), and a third on the e. the floor appears to be devoid of prominent detail. cuvier.--a walled-plain, about 50 miles in diameter, on the s.e. of clairaut. the border on the e. rises to 12,000 feet; and on the n.w. is much broken by depressions. neison has seen a mound, with a minute crater w. of it, on the otherwise undisturbed interior. jacobi.--a ring-plain s. of cuvier, about 40 miles in diameter, with walls much broken on the n. and s., but rising on the e. to nearly 10,000 feet. there is a group of craters (nearly central) on the floor. the region s. of this formation abounds in large unnamed objects. lilius.--an irregular ring-plain, 39 miles in diameter, with a rampart on the e. nearly 10,000 feet above the floor. a smaller ring between it and jacobi has considerably inflected the wall towards the interior. it has a conspicuous central mountain. zach.--a massive formation, 46 miles in diameter, on the s. of lilius, with prominently terraced walls, rising on the e. to 13,000 feet above the interior. a small ring-plain, whose wall stands 6000 feet above the floor, is associated with the n. border. two other rings, on the s.w. and n.e. respectively, have craters on their ramparts and central hills. pentland.--a fine conspicuous formation under a low sun, even in a region abounding in such objects. it is about 50 miles in diameter, with a border exceeding in places 10,000 feet in height above the floor, which includes an especially fine central mountain. kinau.--one of the group of remarkable ring-plains extending in a n.w. direction from pentland. simpelius.--another grand circumvallation, almost as large as pentland, but unfortunately much foreshortened. one of its peaks on the e. rises to a height of more than 12,000 feet above the floor, on which there is a small central mountain. between simpelius and pentland are several ringplains, most of which appear to have been squeezed and deformed into abnormal shapes. curtius.--a magnificent formation, about 50 miles in diameter, with one of the loftiest ramparts on the visible surface, rising at a mountain mass on the n.e. to more than 22,000 feet, an altitude which is only surpassed by peaks on the walls of newton and casatus. there is a bright crater on the s.e. border and another on the w. the formation is too near the s. limb for satisfactory scrutiny. between curtius and zach is a fine group of unnamed enclosures. appendix description of the map the accompanying map, eighteen inches in diameter, represents the moon under mean libration. meridian lines and parallels of latitude are drawn at every 10 deg., except in the case of the meridians of 80 deg. e. and w. longitude, which are omitted to avoid confusion, and as being practically needless. these lines will enable the observer, with the aid of the tables in the appendix, to find the position of the terminator at any time required. as astronomical telescopes exhibit objects inverted, maps of the moon are always drawn upside down, and with the right and left interchanged, as in the diagram above, which also shows how the quadrants are numbered. this circle [drawing of circle], intended to be .15708 in diameter, represents a circle of one degree in diameter at the centre of the map, and as the length of one selenographical degree is 18.871 miles, it represents an area of nearly 280 square miles. the catalogue is so arranged that, beginning with the w. limb, and referring to the lists under the first and fourth, and the second and third quadrants, all the formations falling within the meridians 90 deg. to 60 deg., 60 deg. to 40 deg., 40 deg. to 20 deg., 20 deg. to 0 deg. (the central meridian), and from 0 deg. to 20 deg., and so on, to the e. limb, will be found in convenient proximity in the text. in the catalogue, n. s. e. w. are used as abbreviations for the cardinal points. list of the maria, or grey plains, termed "seas," &c. first quadrant. mare tranquilitatis (nearly the whole), page 5. ,, foecunditatis (the n. portion), 5. ,, serenitatis, 5. ,, crisium, 6. ,, frigoris (a portion), 5. ,, vaporum (nearly the whole), 6. ,, humboldtianum, 6. ,, smythii (a portion), 39. lacus mortis, 53. ,, somniorum. palus somnii. ,, nebularum (a portion), 62. ,, putredinis, 61. sinus medii (a portion), 6. second quadrant. mare imbrium, 5. ,, nubium (the n. portion), 5. ,, frigoris (a portion), 5. ,, vaporum (a portion), 6. oceanus procellarum (the n. portion), 5. palus nebularum (a portion), 62. sinus iridum, 80. ,, medii (a portion), 6. ,, roris, 90. ,, aestuum. third quadrant. mare nubium (the greater portion), 5. ,, humorum, 6. oceanus procellarum (the s. portion), 5. sinus medii (a small portion), 6. fourth quadrant. mare foecunditatis (the greater portion), 5. ,, nectaris, 7. ,, tranquilitatis (a small portion), 5. ,, australe, 127. ,, smythii (a portion), 39. sinus medii (a portion), 6. list of some of the most prominent mountain ranges, promontories, isolated mountains, and remarkable hills. first quadrant. the alps. the western portion of the range. the apennines. the extreme northern part of the range. the caucasus. the haemus. the taurus. the north polar range. on the limb extending from n. lat. 81 deg. towards the e. the humboldt mountains. on the limb from n. lat. 72 deg. to n. lat. 53 deg. mount argaeus. a mountain mass rising some 8000 feet above the mare serenitatis in n. lat. 20 deg., w. long. 28 deg., n.w. of dawes. prom. acherusia. a bright promontory at the w. extremity of the haemus range, rising nearly 5000 feet above the mare serenitatis. n. lat. 17 deg., w. long. 22 deg. cape agarum. the n. end of a projecting headland on the s.w. side of the mare crisium, in n. lat. 14 deg., w. long. 66 deg., rising nearly 11,000 feet above the mare. le monnier a. an isolated mountain more than 3000 feet high, standing about midway between the extremities of the bay: probably a relic of a once complete ring. secchi. south of this formation there is a lofty prominent isolated mountain. manilius a and beta. two conspicuous mountains n. of manilius; a, the more westerly, being more than 5000 feet, and beta about 2000 feet in height. autolycus a. a mountain of considerable altitude, s. of this formation. mont blanc. principal peak, n. lat. 46 deg., w. long. 0 deg. 30 min., nearly 12,000 feet in height. cassini epsilon and delta. two adjoining mountain masses n. of cassini, more than 5000 feet high. eudoxus. s.e. of this formation, in n. lat. 43 deg., w. long. 10 deg., are two bright mountain masses, the more southerly rising 7000, and the other 4000 feet above the surface. mount hadley. the northern extremity of the apennines, in n. lat. 27 deg. w. long. 5 deg., rising more than 15,000 feet above the mare. mount bradley. a promontory of the apennines, in n, lat. 23 deg., w. long. 1 deg., nearly 14,000 feet above the mare imbrium. the silberschlag range, running from near the s.e. side of julius caesar to the region w. of agrippa. second quadrant. the alps. the eastern and greater portion. the apennines. nearly the whole of the range. the carpathians. the teneriffe mountains. s.e. of plato. highest peak, 8000 feet. the straight range. east of the last, in n. lat. 48 deg., e. long. 20 deg. the harbinger mountains. n.w. of aristarchus. the hercynian mountains. near the n.e. limb, e. of otto struve, n. lat. 25 deg. mount huygens. a mountain mass projecting from the escarpment of the apennines, in n. lat. 20 deg., e. long. 3 deg., one peak rising to 18,000 feet above the mare imbrium. mount wolf. a great square-shaped mountain mass, near the s.e. extremity of the apennines, in n. lat. 17 deg., e. long. 9 deg., the loftiest peak rising to nearly 12,000 feet above the mare imbrium. eratosthenes i and x. two isolated mountains n. of this formation, in n. lat. 20 deg.; x is 1800 feet in height. pico. a magnificent isolated mountain, s. of plato, in n. lat. 45 deg., e. long. 9 deg., rising some 8000 feet above the mare imbrium. pico b. a triple-peaked mountain a few miles s. of pico. piton. a bright isolated mountain 7000 feet high, in n. lat. 1 deg., e. long. 1 deg. fontinelle a. a conspicuous isolated mountain about 3000 feet high, s. of fontinelle. archimedes z. a triangular-shaped group e. of archimedes, in n. lat. 31 deg., e. long. 8 deg., the highest of the peaks rising more than 2000 feet. caroline herschel. e. of this formation is a double-peaked mountain rising to 1300 feet. gruithuisen delta and gamma. on the n. of this bright crater, in n. lat. 36 deg., e. long. 40 deg., rises a fine mountain, delta, nearly 6000 feet in height, and on the n.e. of it the larger mass gamma, almost as lofty. mairan. there is a group of three bright little mountains, the loftiest about 800 feet above the mare, some distance e. of this formation. euler beta. a fine but small mountain group, more than 3600 feet high, on the mare imbrium, s.e. of euler. the laplace promontory. a magnificent headland on the n. side of the sinus iridum, rising about 9000 feet above the latter, and about 7000 feet above the mare imbrium. cape heraclides. a fine but less prominent headland on the opposite side of the bay, rising more than 4000 feet above it. lahire. a large bright isolated mountain in the mare imbrium, n.e. of lambert, in n. lat. 27 deg., e. long. 25 deg. it is, according to schroter, nearly 5000 feet high. delisle beta. a curious club-shaped mountain on the s.e. of this formation, nearly 4000 feet in height. pytheas beta. an isolated mountain, 900 feet high, in n. lat. 20 deg., e. long. 23 deg. kirch. there is a small isolated hill a few miles n. of this formation. kirch gamma. a bright mountain about 700 feet high, in n. lat. 39 deg., e. long. 3 deg. piazzi smyth beta. a small bright isolated mountain on a ridge s. of this, is a noteworthy object under a low sun. lambert gamma. in n. lat. 26 deg., e. long. 18 deg.; a remarkable curved mountain about 3000 feet in height, a brilliant object under a low sun. d'alembert mountains. a range on the e. limb running s. from n. lat. 12 deg. wollaston. an isolated triangular mountain about midway between this and wollaston b. third quadrant. the riphaean mountains. an isolated range s. of landsberg in s. lat. 7 deg., e. long. 28 deg. they run in a meridional direction, and rise at one peak to nearly 3000 feet above the oceanus procellarum. the percy mountains extend from the eastern flank of gassendi towards mersenius, forming the north-eastern border of the mare humorum. prom. aenarium. a steep bluff situated at the northern end of a plateau, some distance e. of arzachel, in s. lat. 18 deg., e. long. 9 deg. it rises some 2000 feet above the mare nubium. euclides zeta and chi. two mountain masses n. of this formation in s. lat. 5 deg.; zeta rises about 1700 feet above the mare; both are evidently offshoots from the riphaean range. landsberg h. an isolated hill in s. lat. 4 deg., e. long. 25 deg. nicollet c. s.e. of nicollet, in s. lat. 22 deg., e. long. 17 deg.; is hemmed in by a mountain mass rising to more than 2000 feet above the mare nubium. the stag's-horn mountains. at the s. end of the straight wall, or "railroad," in s. lat. 24 deg., e. long. 8 deg., a curious mountain mass rising about 2000 feet above the mare nubium. lacroix delta. a mountain more than 7000 feet high, n. of lacroix. flamsteed e. a mountain of more than 3000 feet in s. lat. 4 deg., e. long. 51 deg. d'alembert mountains. a very lofty range on the e. limb, extending to s. lat. 11 deg. the cordilleras. close to the e. limb; they lie between s. lat. 8 deg. and s. lat. 23 deg. rook mountains. on the e. limb, extending from about s. lat. 18 deg. to s. lat. 35 deg. according to schroter, they attain a height of 25,000 feet. dorfel mountains. on the s.e. limb between s. lat. 57 deg. and s. lat. 80 deg. leibnitz mountains. on the s. limb extending w. from s. lat. 80 deg. beyond the pole on to the fourth quadrant. perhaps the loftiest range on the limb. madler's measures give more than 27,000 feet as the height of one peak, and there are several others nearly as high. fourth quadrant. the altai mountains. a fine conspicuous serpentine range, extending from the e. side of piccolomini in a north-easterly direction to the region between tacitus and catherina, a length of about 275 miles. the loftiest peak is over 13,000 feet. the average height of the southern portion is about 6000 feet. the region lying on the s.e. of this range is a vast tableland, devoid of prominent objects, rising gradually towards the mountains, which shelve rapidly down to an equally barren expanse on the n.w. the pyrenees. these mountains, on the e. of guttemberg, border the western side of the mare nectaris. their loftiest peak, rising nearly to 12,000 feet, is on the s.e. of guttemberg. list of the principal ray-systems, light-surrounded craters, and lightspots. [in this list, which does claim to be exhaustive, most of the objects noted by schmidt are incorporated.] first quadrant. autolycus. encircled by a delicate nimbus, throwing out four or five prominent rays extending towards archimedes. seen best under evening illumination. aristillus. the centre of a noteworthy system of delicate rays extending w. towards the caucasus; and on the s. disappearing among the rays of autolycus. they are traceable on the mare nubium near kirch. theaetetus. a very brilliant group of little hills e. of this formation. eudoxus a. a light-surrounded crater w. of eudoxus, with distinct long streaks, one of which extends to the s. wall of aristoteles. aristoteles a. a light-surrounded crater in the mare frigoris, n.e. of aristoteles. aratus. a very conspicuously brilliant crater in the apennines, with a smaller light-surrounded crater w. of it. sulpicius gallus. a light spot near. manilius. surrounded by a light halo and streaks. taquet. has a prominent nimbus, and indications of very delicate streaks. plinius a. is surrounded by a well-marked halo. posidonius gamma. among the hills e. of this formation a light spot resembling linne, according to schmidt. he first saw it in 1867, when it had a delicate black spot in the centre. dr. vogel observed and drew it in 1871 with the great refractor at bothkamp. these observations were confirmed by schmidt in 1875 with the 14-feet refractor at berlin. littrow. a very bright light-spot with streaks, on the site of a little crater and well-known cleft e. of this ring-plain. romer. a light-surrounded mountain on the e. macrobius. two light-surrounded craters on the e. of this formation, the more northerly being the brighter. cleomedes a. (on the floor.) surrounded by a nimbus and rays. large crater, a, on the e. has also a nimbus and rays. agrippa. exhibits faint rays. godin. exhibits faint rays. proclus. a well-known ray-centre, some of the rays prominent on part of the mare crisium. taruntius. has a very faint nimbus, with rays, on a dark surface. dionysius. a brilliant crater with a prominent, bright, excentrically placed nimbus on a dark surface, on which distinct rays are displayed. hypatia b. a very small bright crater on a dark surface: surrounded by a faint nimbus. apollonius. among the hills s. of this, there is a small bright streak system. eimmart. there is a large white spot n.w. of this. geminus is associated with a system of very delicate rays. menelaus. a brilliant object. it is traversed by a long ray from tycho. second quadrant. anaxagoras. the centre of an important ray-system. timocharis is surrounded by a pale irregular nimbus and faint rays, most prominently developed on the w. side of the formation. copernicus. next to tycho, the most extended ray-centre on the visible surface. some distance on the e., in e. long. 25 deg., n. lat. 11 deg., lies a very small but conspicuous system, and in e. long. 22 deg., n. lat. 8 deg. a bright light spot among little hills. gambart a. a bright crater with large nimbus and rays. landsberg a. a light-surrounded crater on a dark surface, with companions, referred to under the third quadrant. encke. there is a light-surrounded crater s. of this. kepler. a noted ray-centre. it is surrounded by an extensive halo, especially well developed on the e., across the mare procellarum. bessarion. two bright craters: the more northerly is prominently light-surrounded, while its companion is less conspicuously so. aristarchus.--the most conspicuous bright centre on the moon, the origin of a complicated ray-system. delisle. s. of this formation there is a tolerably bright spot on the site of some hills. timaeus. a ray-centre. euler. feeble halo with streaks. galileo. between this and reiner is a curious bright formation with short rays, referred to in the catalogue, under reiner. cavalerius. a light streak originating in the w. wall, and extending on to the oceanus procellarum. olbers. a considerable ray-system, but seldom distinctly visible. lichtenberg. faintly light-surrounded. third quadrant. tycho. the largest and best known system on the visible surface. zuchius. a remarkable ray-system, but one which is only well seen when libration is favourable. bailly. n. of the centre of this great enclosure are two very distinct radiating streaks. schickard. four conspicuous light spots, probably craters, on the s.e. byrgius a. a brilliant ray-centre, most of the rays trending eastward from a nimbus. hainzel. there are several bright spots e. of this formation. mersenius. two or three light-rays originate from a point on the w. rampart. mersenius c. a light-surrounded crater with short rays. grimaldi. there are three bright spots on the w. wall. damoiseau. a light-surrounded crater w. of damoiseau, e. long. 58 deg., s. lat. 6 deg. flamsteed c. a light-surrounded crater on a dark surface. lubieniezky a. crater with halo on a dark surface. lubieniezky f. crater with halo on a dark surface. lubieniezky g. crater with halo on a dark surface. birt _a_. a light-surrounded crater. landsberg. e. of landsberg, four light-surrounded craters, forming with landsberg a (in the second quadrant) an interesting group. lohrmann a. a light-surrounded crater, with a light area a few miles n. of it. s. lat. 1 deg., e. long. 61 deg. euclides. has a conspicuous nimbus with traces of rays, a typical example. guerike. there is a crater, with nimbus, w. of this, in e. long. 12 deg., s. lat. 11 deg. 5 min. parry. a very brilliant light-spot in the s. wall. parry a. surrounded by a bright nimbus. alpetragius b. a conspicuous light-surrounded crater, one of the most remarkable on the moon. alpetragius _d_ (e. long. 11 deg., s. lat. 13 deg. 8 min.). a bright spot, seen by madler as a crater, but which, as schmidt found in 1868, no longer answers to this description. mosting c. a light-surrounded crater. lalande. has a large nimbus and distinct rays. hell. a large ill-defined spot in e. long. 4 deg., s. lat. 33 deg. this is most probably the site of the white cloud seen by cassini. mercator. there is a brilliant crater and light area under e. wall. fourth quadrant. stevinus _a_. a crater e. of stevinus; it is a centre of wide extending rays. furnerius a. prominently light-surrounded, with bright streaks, radiating for a long distance n. and s. messier a. the well-known "comet" rays, extending e. of this. langrenus. has a large but very pale ray-system. it is best seen under a low evening sun. three long streaks radiate towards the e. from the foot of the _glacis_ of the s.e. wall. censorinus. a very brilliant crater with faint rays. theophilus. the central mountain is faintly light-surrounded. madler. this ring-plain and the neighbourhood on the n. and n.w., include many bright areas and curious streaks. almanon. about midway between this and argelander is a very brilliant little crater. beaumont. between this and cyrillus stand three considerable craters with nimbi. cyrillus a. a prominent light-surrounded crater. alfraganus. a light-surrounded crater with rays. position of the lunar terminator though the position of the lunar terminator is given for mean midnight throughout the year in that very useful publication the companion to the observatory, it is frequently important in examining or comparing former drawings and observations to ascertain its position at the times when they were made. for this purpose the subjoined tables (which first appeared in the selenographical journal) will be found useful, as they give for any day between a.d. 1780 and a.d. 1900 the selenographical longitude of the point where the terminator crosses the moon's equator, which it does very nearly at right angles. [tables and examples] lunar elements moon's mean apparent diameter 31 min. 8 sec. moon's maximum apparent diameter 33 min. 33.20 sec. moon's minimum apparent diameter 29 min. 23.65 sec. moon's diameter, in miles 2163 miles. volume (earth's = 1) 1/49.20 or 0.02033. mass (earth's = 1) 1/81.40 or 0.0128. density (earth's = 1) 0.60419, or 3.444 the density of water (water being unity). surface area, about 14,600,000 square miles (earth's surface area, 196,870,000 miles) earth's surface area = 1, moon's about 2/27 or 0.07407. action of gravity at surface 0.16489 or 1/6.065 of the earth's. surface of moon never seen 0.4100. surface of moon seen at one time or another 0.5900. synodical revolution, or interval from new moon to new moon (commonly called a lunation) 29 d. 12 h. 44 m. 2.684 s. 29.5305887 days. sidereal revolution, or time taken in passing from one star to the same star again 27 d. 7 h. 43 m. 11.545 s. 27.3216614 days. tropical revolution, or time taken in passing from "the first point of aries" to the same point again 27 d. 7 h. 43 m. 4.68 s. 27.321582 days. anomalistic revolution, or time taken in passing from perigee to perigee 27 d. 13 h. 18 m. 37.44 s. 27.55460 days. nodical revolution, or time taken in passing from rising node to rising node 27 d. 5h. 5m. 35.81 s. 27.21222 days. distance (mean) in terms of the equatorial radius of the earth 60.27. distance in miles (mean) 238,840 miles. distance, maximum 252,972 miles. distance, minimum 221,614 miles. mean excentricity of moon's orbit 0.05490807. inclination of moon's orbit to the ecliptic (mean) 5 deg. 8 min. 39.96 sec. inclination of moon's axis to the ecliptic 87 deg. 27 min. 51 sec. inclination of moon's equator to the ecliptic 1 deg. 32 min. 9 sec. maximum libration in latitude 6 deg. 44 min. maximum libration in longitude 7 deg. 45 min. maximum total libration from earth's centre 10 deg. 16 min. maximum diurnal libration 1 deg. 1 min. 28.8 sec. angle subtended by one degree of selenographical latitude and longitude at the centre of the moon's disc, when at its mean distance 16.566 sec. length of a degree under these conditions 18.871 miles. selenographical arc at the centre of the moon's surface, subtending an angle of one second of arc 3 min. 37.31 sec. miles at the centre of the moon's disc, subtending an angle of one second of arc 1.139 [it must be remembered that this value is _increased_, in departing from the centre, in the proportion of the secants of the angular distance from the centre.] period of similar phase 59 d. 1h. 28m. = 2 lunations. or, more accurately 442 d. 23 h. = 15 lunations. [note: the original text had two footnotes 160 and two footnotes 396. i have indicated these by naming them 160a and b, and 396a and b. in the index, i changed the spelling of "aglonquins" to "algonquins". all other spelling remains the same.] [illustration: moon01] voyaging to the moon _from domingo gonsales [a.d. 1638]_ _see page_ 46. moon lore by the rev. timothy harley, f.r.a.s. "and when the clear moon, with its soothing influences, rises full in my view,--from the wall-like rocks, out of the damp underwood, the silvery forms of past ages hover up to me, and soften the austere pleasure of contemplation." _goethe's "faust." hayward's translation, london_, 1855, _p_. 100. london: swan sonnenschein, le bas & lowrey, paternoster square 1885 butler & taylor the selwood printing works frome, and london "i beheld the moon walking in brightness."--_job_ xxxi. 26. "the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained."--_psalm_ viii. 3. "who is she that looketh forth, fair as the moon?"--_solomon's song_ vi. 10. "the precious things put forth by the moon."--_deuteronomy_ xxxiii. 14. "soon as the evening shades prevail, the moon takes up the wondrous tale."--addison's _ode_. "in fall-orbed glory, yonder moon divine rolls through the dark-blue depths."--southey's _thalaba_. "queen of the silver bow! by thy pale beam, alone and pensive, i delight to stray, and watch thy shadow trembling in the stream, or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way; and while i gaze, thy mild and placid light sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast: and oft i think-fair planet of the night- that in thy orb the wretched may have rest; the sufferers of the earth perhaps may go- released by death-to thy benignant sphere; and the sad children of despair and woe forget in thee their cup of sorrow here. oh that i soon may reach thy world serene, poor wearied pilgrim in this toiling scene!" --_charlotte smith_. preface this work is a contribution to light literature, and to the literature of light. though a monograph, it is also a medley. the first part is mythological and mirthsome. it is the original nucleus around which the other parts have gathered. some years since, the writer was led to investigate the world-wide myth of the man in the moon, in its legendary and ludicrous aspects; and one study being a stepping-stone to another, the ball was enlarged as it rolled. the second part, dealing with moon-worship, is designed to show that anthropomorphism and sexuality have been the principal factors in that idolatry which in all ages has paid homage to the hosts of heaven, as _heaved_ above the aspiring worshipper. man adores what he regards as higher than he. and if the moon is supposed to affect his tides, that body becomes his water-god. the third part treats of lunar superstitions, many of which yet live in the vagaries which sour and shade our modern sweetness and light. the fourth and final part is a literary essay on lunar inhabitation, presenting _in nuce_ the present state of the enigma of "the plurality of worlds." of the imperfections of his production the author is partly conscious. not _wholly_ so; for others see us often more advantageously than we see ourselves. but a hope is cherished that this work--a compendium of lunar literature in its least scientific branches--may win a welcome which shall constitute the worker's richest reward. to the innumerable writers who are quoted, the indebtedness felt is inexpressible. contents. i _moon spots_ 1 introduction 1 2 the man in the moon 5 3 the woman in the moon 53 4 the hare in the moon 60 5 the toad in the moon 69 6 other moon myths 71 ii _moon worship_ 1 introduction 77 2 the moon mostly a male deity 82 3 the moon a world-wide deity 87 4 the moon a water deity 132 iii _moon superstitions_ 1 introduction 145 2 lunar fancies 152 3 lunar influences 175 iv _moon inhabitation_ _appendix_ 259 _notes_ 263 _index_ 285 list of illustrations. 1 voyaging to the moon _frontispiece_ from domingo gonsales, 1638 2 the man in the moon 9 from hone's _facetiae and miscellanies_, 1821. drawn by george cruikshank. 3 "the man in the moon drinks claret" 12 (from the _bagford ballads_, ii, 119, brit. mus.) 4 "who'll smoak with the man in the moon?" 13 (banks collection in brit. mus.) 5 the man in the moon 22 from ludwig richter's _der familienshatz_, leipzig, p. 25 6 seal 28 in the _archaeological journal_ for march, 1848, p. 68 7 representation of the sabbath-breaker in gyffyn church, near conway 32 from baring-gould's _curious myths_ 8 the hare in the moon 63 from colin de plancy's _dictionnaire infernal_ moon spots. i. introduction. with the invention of the telescope came an epoch in human history. to hans lippershey, a dutch optician, is accorded the honour of having constructed the first astronomical telescope, which he made so early as the 2nd of october, 1608. galileo, hearing of this new wonder, set to work, and produced and improved instrument, which he carried in triumph to venice, where it occasioned the intensest delight. sir david brewster tells us that "the interest which the exhibition of the telescope excited at venice did not soon subside: sirturi describes it as amounting to frenzy. when he himself had succeeded in making one of these instruments, he ascended the tower of st. mark, where he might use it without molestation. he was recognised, however, by a crowd in the street, and such was the eagerness of their curiosity, that they took possession of the wondrous tube, and detained the impatient philosopher for several hours till they had successively witnessed its effects." [1] it was in may, 1609, that galileo turned his telescope on the moon. "the first observations of galileo," says flammarion, "did not make less noise than the discovery of america; many saw in them another discovery of a new world much more interesting than america, as it was beyond the earth. it is one of the most curious episodes of history, that of the prodigious excitement which was caused by the unveiling of the world of the moon." [2] nor are we astonished at their astonishment when they beheld mountains which have since been found to be from 15,000 to 26,000 feet in height--highlands of the moon indeed--far higher in proportion to the moon's diameter than any elevations on the earth; when they saw the surface of the satellite scooped out into deep valleys, or spread over with vast walled plains from 130 to 140 miles across. no wonder that the followers of aristotle resented the explosion of their preconceived beliefs; for their master had taught that the moon was perfectly spherical and smooth, and that the spots were merely reflections of our own mountains. other ancient philosophers had said that these patches were shadows of opaque bodies floating between the sun and the moon. but to the credit of democritus be it remembered that he propounded the opinion that the spots were diversities or inequalities upon the lunar surface; and thus anticipated by twenty centuries the disclosures of the telescope. the invention of this invaluable appliance we have regarded as marking a great modern epoch; and what is usually written on the moon is mainly a summary of results obtained through telescopic observation, aided by other apparatus, and conducted by learned men. we now purpose to go back to the ages when there were neither reflectors nor refractors in existence; and to travel beyond the bounds of ascertained fact into the regions of fiction, where abide the shades of superstition and the dreamy forms of myth. having promised a contribution to light literature, we shall give to fancy a free rein, and levy taxes upon poets and story-tellers, wits and humorists wherever they may be of service. much will have to be said, in the first place, of the man in the moon, whom we must view as he has been manifested in the mask of mirth, and also in the mirror of mythology. then we shall present the woman in the moon, who is less known than the immortal man. next a hare will be started; afterwards a frog, and other objects; and when we reach the end of our excursion, if we mistake not, it will be confessed that the moon has created more merriment, more marvel, and more mystery, than all of the other orbs taken together. but before we forget the fair moon in the society of its famous man, let us soothe our spirits in sweet oblivion of discussions and dissertations, while we survey its argentine glories with poetic rapture. like shelley, we are all in love with "that orbèd maiden, with white fire laden, whom mortals call the moon." (_the cloud_.) our little loves, who take the lowest seats in the domestic synagogue, if they cannot have the moon by crying for it, will rush out, when they ought to be in bed, and chant, "boys and girls come out to play, the moon doth shine as bright as day." the young ladies of the family, without a tincture of affectation, will languish as they gaze on the lovely luna. not, as a grumpy, grisly old bear of a bachelor once said, "because there's a man in it!" no; the precious pets are fond of moonlight rather because they are the daughters of eve. they are in sympathy with all that is bright and beautiful in the heavens above, and in the earth beneath; and it has even been suspected that the only reason why they ever assume that invisible round-about called crinoline is that, like the moon, they may move in a circle. our greatest men, likewise, are susceptible to luna's blandishments. in proof of this we may produce a story told by mark lemon, at one time the able editor of punch. by the way, an irrepressible propensity to play upon words has reminded some one that punch is always improved by the essence of lemon. but this we leave to the bibulous, and go on with the story. lord brougham, speaking of the salary attached to a new judgeship, said it was all moonshine. lord lyndhurst, in his dry and waggish way, remarked, "may be so, my lord harry; but i have a strong notion that, moonshine though it be, you would like to see the _first quarter_ of it." [3] that hibernian was a discriminating admirer of the moon who said that the sun was a coward, because he always went away as soon as it began to grow dark, and never came back till it was light again; while the blessed moon stayed with us through the forsaken night. and now, feeling refreshed with these exhilarating meditations, we, for awhile, leave this lovable orb to those astronomical stars who have studied the heavens from their earliest history; and hasten to make ourselves acquainted with the proper study of mankind, the ludicrous and legendary lunar man. ii. the man in the moon. we must not be misunderstood. by the man in the moon we do not mean any public tavern, or gin-palace, displaying that singular sign. the last inn of that name known to us in london stands in a narrow passage of that fashionable promenade called regent street, close to piccadilly. nor do we intend by the man in the moon the silvery individual who pays the election expenses, so long as the elector votes his ticket. neither do we mean the mooney, or mad fellow who is too fond of the cup which cheers and then inebriates; nor even one who goes mooning round the world without a plan or purpose. no; if we are not too scientific, we are too straightforward to be allured by any such false lights as these. by the man in the moon we mean none other than that illustrious personage, whose shining countenance may be beheld many a night, clouds and fogs permitting, beaming good-naturedly on the dark earth, and singing, in the language of a lyric bard, "the moon is out to-night, love, meet me with a smile." but some sceptic may assail us with a note of interrogation, saying, "is there a man in the moon?" "why, of course, there is!" those who have misgivings should ask a sailor; he knows, for the punsters assure us that he has been to _sea_. or let them ask any _lunatic_; he should know, for he has been so _struck_ with his acquaintance, that he has adopted the man's name. or ask any little girl in the nursery, and she will recite, with sweet simplicity, how "the man in the moon came down too soon, and asked the way to norwich." the darling may not understand why he sought that venerable city, nor whether he ever arrived there, but she knows very well that "he went by the south, and burnt his mouth with eating hot pease porridge." but it is useless to inquire of any stupid joker, for he will idly say that there is no such man there, because, forsooth, a certain single woman who was sent to the moon came back again, which she would never have done if a man had been there with whom she could have married and remained, nor should any one be misled by those blind guides who darkly hint that it is all moonshine. there is not an indian moonshee, nor a citizen of the celestial empire, some of whose ancestors came from the nocturnal orb, who does not know better than that. perhaps the wisest course is to inquire within. have not we all frequently affirmed that we knew no more about certain inscrutable matters than the man in the moon? now we would never have committed ourselves to such a comparison had we not been sure that the said man was a veritable and creditable, though somewhat uninstructed person. but our feelings ought not to be wrought upon in this way. we "had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, than such a roman" as is not at least distantly acquainted with that brilliant character in high life who careers so conspicuously amid the constellations which constitute the upper ten thousand of super-mundane society. and now some inquisitive individual may be impatient to interrupt our eloquence with the question, "what are you going to make of the man in the moon?" well, we are not going to make anything of him. for, first, he is a man; therefore incapable of improvement. secondly, he is in the moon, and that is out of our reach. [*] all that we can promise just now is, to furnish a few particulars of the man himself; some account of calls which he is reported to have made to his friends here below; and also some account of visits which his friends on earth have paid him in return. [*] besides, as old john lilly says in the prologue to his _endymion_ (1591), "there liveth none under the sunne, that knows what to make of the man in the moone." we know something of his residence, whenever he is at home: what do we know of the man? we have been annoyed at finding his lofty name desecrated to base uses. if "imagination may trace the noble dust of alexander, till he find it stopping a bung-hole," literature traces the man in the moon, and discovers him pressed into the meanest services. our readers need not be disquieted with details; though our own equanimity has been sorely disturbed as we have seen scribblers dragging from the skies a "name at which the world grows pale, to point a moral, or adorn a tale." political squibs, paltry chapbooks, puny satires, and penny imbecilities, too numerous for mention here, with an occasional publication of merit, have been printed and sold at the expense of the man in the moon. for the sake of the curious we place the titles and dates of some of these in an appendix and pass on. we have not learned very many particulars relating to the domestic habits or personal character of the man in the moon, consequently our smallest biographical contributions will be thankfully received. we must not be pressed for his photograph, at present. we certainly wish it could have been procured; but though photography has taken some splendid views of the [illustration: moon02] _geo. cruikshank_. hone's "_facetiae_," 1821. the man in the moon "if caesar can hide the sun with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light" (_cymbeline_). face of the moon, it has not yet produced any perfect picture of the physiognomy of the man. it should always be borne in mind that, as stilpo says in the old play of _timon_, written about 1600, "the man in the moone is not in the moone superficially, although he bee in the moone (as the greekes will have it) catapodially, specificatively, and quidditatively." [4] this beautiful language, let us explain for the behoof of any foreign reader, simply means that he is not always where we can get at him; and therefore his venerable visage is missing from our celestial portrait gallery. one fact we have found out, which we fear will ripple the pure water placidity of some of our best friends; but the truth must be told. "our man in the moon drinks clarret, with powder-beef, turnep, and carret. if he doth so, why should not you drink until the sky looks blew?" [5] another old ballad runs: "the man in the moon drinks claret, but he is a dull jack-a-dandy; would he know a sheep's head from a carrot, he should learn to drink cyder and brandy." in a _jest book of the seventeenth century_ we came across the following story: "a company of gentlemen coming into a tavern, whose signe was the moone, called for a quart of sacke. the drawer told them they had none; whereat the gentlemen wondring were told by the drawer that the man in the moon always drunke claret." [6] several astronomers assert the absence of water in the moon; if this be the case, what is the poor man to drink? still, it is an unsatisfactory announcement to us all; for we are afraid that it is the claret which makes him look so red in the face sometimes when he is full, and gets a little fogged. we have ourselves seen [illustration: moon03] "the man in the moon drinks claret." "_bagford ballads_," ii. 119. him actually what sailors call "half-seas over," when we have been in mid-atlantic. we only hope that he imbibes nothing stronger, though it is said that moonlight is but another name for smuggled spirits. the lord of cynthia must not be too hastily suspected, for, at most, the moon fills her horn but once a month. still, the earth itself being so invariably sober, its satellite, like caesar's wife, should be above suspicion. we therefore hope that our lunar hero may yet take a ribbon of sky-blue from the milky way, and become a staunch abstainer; if only for example's sake. some old authors and artists have represented the [illustration: moon04] banks' collection of shop bills. man in the moon as an inveterate smoker, which habit surprises us, who supposed him to be "above the smoke and stir of this dim spot which men call earth," as the magnificent milton has it. his tobacco must be bird's-eye, as he takes a bird's-eye view of things; and his pipe is presumably a meer-sham, whence his "sable clouds turn forth their silver lining on the night." smoking, without doubt, is a bad practice, especially when the clay is choked or the weed is worthless; but fuming against smokers we take to be infinitely worse. we are better pleased to learn that the man in the moon is a poet. possibly some uninspired groveller, who has never climbed parnassus, nor drunk of the castalian spring, may murmur that this is very likely, for that all poetry is "moonstruck madness." alas if such an antediluvian barbarian be permitted to "revisit thus the glimpses of the moon, making night hideous" as he mutters his horrid blasphemy! we, however, take a nobler view of the matter. to us the music of the spheres is exalting as it is exalted; and the music of earth is a "sphere-descended maid, friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid." we are therefore disposed to hear the following lines, which have been handed down for publication. their title is autobiographical, and, for that reason, they are slightly egotistical. "a shrewd old fellow's the man in the moon." "from my palace of light i look down upon earth, when the tiny stars are twinkling round me; though centuries old, i am now as bright as when at my birth old adam found me. oh! the strange sights that i have seen, since earth first wore her garment of green! king after king has been toppled down, and red-handed anarchy's worn the crown! from the world that's beneath me i crave not a boon, for a shrewd old fellow's the man in the moon. and i looked on 'mid the watery strife, when the world was deluged and all was lost save one blessed vessel, preserver of life, which rode on through safety, though tempest tost. i have seen crime clothed in ermine and gold, and virtue shuddering in winter's cold. i have seen the hypocrite blandly smile, while straightforward honesty starved the while. oh! the strange sights that i have seen, since earth first wore her garment of green! i have gazed on the coronet decking the brow of the villain who, breathing affection's vow, hath poisoned the ear of the credulous maiden, then left her to pine with heart grief laden. oh! oh! if this, then, be the world, say i, i'll keep to my home in the clear blue sky; still to dwell in my planet i crave as a boon, for the earth ne'er will do for the man in the moon." [7] this effusion is not excessively flattering to our "great globe," and "all which it inherit"; and we surmise that the author was in a misanthropic mood when it was written. yet it is serviceable sometimes to see ourselves as others see us. on the other hand, we have but little liking for those who "hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell," in any sense. we prefer to believe that the tide is rising though the waves recede, and that our dark world is waxing towards the full-orbed glory "to which the whole creation moves." here for the present we part company with the man in the moon as material for amusement, that we may track him through the mythic maze, where, in well-nigh every language, he has left some traces of his existence. as there is a side of the moon which we have never seen, and according to laplace never shall see, there is also an aspect of the matter in hand that remains to be traversed, if we would circumambulate its entire extent. our subject must now be viewed in the magic mirror of mythology. the antiquarian ritson shall state the question to be brought before our honourable house of inquiry. he denominates the man in the moon "an imaginary being, the subject of perhaps one of the most ancient, as well as one of the most popular, superstitions of the world." [8] and as we must explore the vestiges of antiquity, asiatic and european, african and american, and even polynesian, we bespeak patient forbearance and attention. one little particular we may partly clear up at once, though it will meet us again in another connection. it will serve as a sidelight to our legendary scenes. in english, french, italian, latin, and greek, the moon is feminine; but in all the teutonic tongues the moon is masculine. which of the twain is its true gender? we go back to the sanskrit for an answer. professor max müller rightly says, "it is no longer denied that for throwing light on some of the darkest problems that have to be solved by the student of language, nothing is so useful as a critical study of sanskrit." [9] here the word for the moon is _mâs_, which is masculine. mark how even what hamlet calls "words, words, words" lend their weight and value to the adjustment of this great argument. the very moon is masculine, and, like wordsworth's child, is "father of the man." if a bisexous moon seem an anomaly, perhaps the suggestion of jamieson will account for the hermaphrodism: "the moon, it has been said, was viewed as of the masculine gender in respect of the earth, whose husband he was supposed to be; but as a female in relation to the sun, as being his spouse." [10] here, also, we find a clue to the origin of this myth. if modern science, discovering the moon's inferiority to the sun, call the former feminine, ancient nescience, supposing the sun to be inferior to the moon, called the latter masculine. the sun, incomparable in splendour, invariable in aspect and motion, to the unaided eye immaculate in surface, too dazzling to permit prolonged observation, and shining in the daytime, when the mind was occupied with the duties of pastoral, agricultural, or commercial life, was to the ancient simply an object of wonder as a glory, and of worship as a god. the moon, on the contrary, whose mildness of lustre enticed attention, whose phases were an embodiment of change, whose strange spots seemed shadowy pictures of things and beings terrestrial, whose appearance amid the darkness of night was so welcome, and who came to men susceptible, from the influences of quiet and gloom, of superstitious imaginings, from the very beginning grew into a familiar spirit of kindred form with their own, and though regarded as the subordinate and wife of the sun, was reverenced as the superior and husband of the earth. with the transmission of this myth began its transmutation. from the moon being a man, it became a man's abode: with some it was the world whence human spirits came; with others it was the final home whither human spirits returned. then it grew into a penal colony, to which egregious offenders were transported; or prison cage, in which, behind bars of light, miserable sinners were to be exposed to all eternity, as a warning to the excellent of the earth. one thing is certain, namely, that, during some phases, the moon's surface strikingly resembles a man's countenance. we usually represent the sun and the moon with the faces of men; and in the latter case the task is not difficult. some would say that the moon is so drawn to reproduce some lunar deity: it would be more correct to say that the lunar deity was created through this human likeness. sir thomas browne remarks, "the sun and moon are usually described with human faces: whether herein there be not a pagan imitation, and those visages at first implied apollo and diana, we may make some doubt." [11] brand, in quoting browne, adds, "butler asks a shrewd question on this head, which i do not remember to have seen solved:- "tell me but what's the natural cause, why on a sign no painter draws the _full moon_ ever, but the _half_?" (hudibras, b. ii., c. iii.) [12] another factor in the formation of our moon-myth was the anthropomorphism which sees something manlike in everything, not only in the anthropoid apes, where we may find a resemblance more faithful than flattering, but also in the mountains and hills, rivers and seas of earth, and in the planets and constellations of heaven. anthropomorphism was but a species of personification, which also metamorphosed the firmament into a menagerie of lions and bears, with a variety of birds, beasts, and fishes. dr. wagner writes: "the sun, moon, and stars, clouds and mists, storms and tempests, appeared to be higher powers, and took distinct forms in the imagination of man. as the phenomena of nature seemed to resemble animals either in outward form or in action, they were represented under the figure of animals." [13] sir george w. cox points out how phrases ascribing to things so named the actions or feelings of living beings, "would grow into stories which might afterwards be woven together, and so furnish the groundwork of what we call a legend or a romance. this will become plain, if we take the greek sayings or myths about endymion and selênê. here, besides these two names, we have the names protogenia and asterodia. but every greek knew that selênê was a name for the moon, which was also described as asterodia because she has her path among the stars, and that protogenia denoted the first or early born morning. now protogenia was the mother of endymion, while asterodia was his wife; and so far the names were transparent. had all the names remained so, no myth, in the strict sense of the word, could have sprung up; but as it so happened, the meaning of the name endymion, as denoting the sun, when he is about to plunge or dive into the sea, had been forgotten, and thus endymion became a beautiful youth with whom the moon fell in love, and whom she came to look upon as he lay in profound sleep in the cave of latmos." [14] to this growth and transformation of myths we may return after awhile; meanwhile we will follow closely our man in the moon, who, among the greeks, was the young endymion, the beloved of diana, who held the shepherd passionately in her embrace. this fable probably arose from endymion's love of astronomy, a predilection common in ancient pastors. he was, no doubt, an ardent admirer of the moon; and soon it was reported that selênê courted and caressed him in return. may such chaste enjoyment be ours also! we may remark, in passing, that classic tales are pure or impure, very much according to the taste of the reader. "to the jaundiced all things seem yellow," say the french; and paul said, "to the pure all things are pure: but unto them that are defiled is nothing pure." according to serapion, as quoted by clemens alexandrinus, the tradition was that the face which appears in the moon is the soul of a sibyl. plutarch, in his treatise, _of the face appearing in the roundle of the moone_, cites the poet agesinax as saying of that orb, "all roundabout environed with fire she is illumined: and in the middes there doth appeere, like to some boy, a visage cleere; whose eies to us doe seem in view, of colour grayish more than blew: the browes and forehead tender seeme, the cheeks all reddish one would deeme." [15] the story of the man in the moon as told in our british nurseries is supposed to be founded on biblical fact. but though the jews have a talmudic tradition that jacob is in the moon, and though they believe that his face is plainly visible, the hebrew scriptures make no mention of the myth. yet to our fireside auditors it is related that a man was found by moses gathering sticks on the sabbath, and that for this crime he was transferred to the moon, there to remain till the end of all things. the passage cited in support of this tale is _numbers_ xv. 32-36. upon referring to the sacred text, we certainly find a man gathering sticks upon the sabbath day, and the congregation gathering stones for his merciless punishment, but we look in vain for any mention of the moon. _non est inventus_. of many an ancient story-teller we may say, as sheridan said of dundas, "the right honourable gentleman is indebted to his memory for his jests and to his imagination for his facts." mr. proctor reminds us that "according to german nurses, the day was not the sabbath, but sunday. their tale runs as follows: ages ago there went one sunday an old man into the woods to hew sticks. he cut a faggot and slung it on a stout staff, cast it over his shoulder, and began to trudge home with his burthen. on his way he met a handsome man in sunday suit, walking towards the church. the man stopped, and asked the faggot-bearer, 'do you know that this is sunday on earth, when all must rest from their labours?' 'sunday on earth, or monday in heaven, it's all one to me!' laughed the woodcutter. 'then bear your bundle for ever!' answered the stranger. 'and as you value not sunday on earth, yours shall [illustration: moon05] be a perpetual moon-day in heaven; you shall stand for eternity in the moon, a warning to all sabbath-breakers.' thereupon the stranger vanished, and the man was caught up with his staff and faggot into the moon, where he stands yet." [16] in tobler's account the man was given the choice of burning in the sun, or of freezing in the moon; and preferring a lunar frost to a solar furnace, he is to be seen at full moon seated with his bundle of sticks on his back. if "the cold in clime are cold in blood," we may be thankful that we do not hibernate eternally in the moon and in the nights of winter, when the cold north winds blow, "we may look up through the casement and "pity the sorrows of this poor old man." mr. baring-gould finds that "in schaumberg-lippe, the story goes, that a man and a woman stand in the moon: the man because he strewed brambles and thorns on the church path, so as to hinder people from attending mass on sunday morning; the woman because she made butter on that day. the man carries his bundle of thorns, the woman her butter tub. a similar tale is told in swabia and in marken. fischart says that there 'is to be seen in the moon a mannikin who stole wood'; and praetorius, in his description of the world, that 'superstitious people assert that the black flecks in the moon are a man who gathered wood on a sabbath, and is therefore turned into stone.'" [17] the north frisians, among the most ancient and pure of all the german tribes, tell the tale differently. "at the time when wishing was of avail, a man, one christmas eve, stole cabbages from his neighbour's garden. when just in the act of walking off with his load, he was perceived by the people, who conjured (wished) him up in the moon. there he stands in the full moon, to be seen by everybody, bearing his load of cabbages to all eternity. every christmas eve he is said to turn round once. others say that he stole willow-boughs, which he must bear for ever. in sylt the story goes that he was a sheep-stealer, that enticed sheep to him with a bundle of cabbages, until, as an everlasting warning to others, he was placed in the moon, where he constantly holds in his hand a bundle of cabbages. the people of rantum say that he is a giant, who at the time of the flow stands in a stooping posture, because he is then taking up water, which he pours out on the earth, and thereby causes the flow; but at the time of the ebb he stands erect and rests from his labour, when the water can subside again." [18] crossing the sea into scandinavia, we obtain some valuable information. first, we find that in the old norse, or language of the ancient scandinavians, the sun is always feminine, and the moon masculine. in the _völu-spá_, a grand, prophetic poem, it is written- "but the sun had not yet learned to trace the path that conducts to her dwelling-place to the moon arrived was not the hour when he should exert his mystic power nor to the stars was the knowledge given, to marshal their ranks o'er the fields of heaven." [19] we also learn that "the moon and the sun are brother and sister; they are the children of mundilföri, who, on account of their beauty, called his son mâni, and his daughter sôl." here again we observe that the moon is masculine. "mâni directs the course of the moon, and regulates nyi (the new moon) and nithi (the waning moon). he once took up two children from the earth, bil and hiuki, as they were going from the well of byrgir, bearing on their shoulders the bucket soeg, and the pole simul." [20] these two children, with their pole and bucket, were placed in the moon, "where they could be seen from earth"; which phrase must refer to the lunar spots. thorpe, speaking of the allusion in the _edda_ to these spots, says that they "require but little illustration. here they are children carrying water in a bucket, a superstition still preserved in the popular belief of the swedes." [21] we are all reminded at once of the nursery rhyme- "jack and jill went up the hill, to fetch a pail of water; jack fell down and broke his crown, and jill came tumbling after." little have we thought, when rehearsing this jingle in our juvenile hours, that we should some day discover its roots in one of the oldest mythologies of the world. but such is the case. mr. baring-gould has evolved the argument in a manner which, if not absolutely conclusive in each point, is extremely cogent and clear. "this verse, which to us seems at first sight nonsense, i have no hesitation in saying has a high antiquity, and refers to the eddaic hjuki and bil. the names indicate as much. hjuki, in norse, would be pronounced juki, which would readily become jack; and bil, for the sake of euphony and in order to give a female name to one of the children, would become jill. the fall of jack, and the subsequent fall of jill, simply represent the vanishing of one moon spot after another, as the moon wanes. but the old norse myth had a deeper signification than merely an explanation of the moon spots. hjuki is derived from the verb jakka, to heap or pile together, to assemble and increase; and bil, from bila, to break up or dissolve. hjuki and bil, therefore, signify nothing more than the waxing and waning of the moon, and the water they are represented as bearing signifies the fact that the rainfall depends on the phases of the moon. waxing and waning were individualized, and the meteorological fact of the connection of the rain with the moon was represented by the children as water-bearers. but though jack and jill became by degrees dissevered in the popular mind from the moon, the original myth went through a fresh phase, and exists still under a new form. the norse superstition attributed _theft_ to the moon, and the vulgar soon began to believe that the figure they saw in the moon was the thief. the lunar specks certainly may be made to resemble one figure, but only a lively imagination can discern two. the girl soon dropped out of popular mythology, the boy oldened into a venerable man, he retained his pole, and the bucket was transformed into the thing he had stolen--sticks or vegetables. the theft was in some places exchanged for sabbath-breaking, especially among those in protestant countries who were acquainted with the bible story of the stick-gatherer." [22] the german grimm, who was by no means a grim german, but a very genial story-teller, also maintains this transformation of the original myth. "plainly enough the water-pole of the heathen story has been transformed into the axe's shaft, and the carried pail into the thornbush; the general idea of theft was retained, but special stress laid on the keeping of the christian holiday, the man suffers punishment not so much for cutting firewood, as because he did it on a sunday." [23] manifestly "jack and jill went up the hill" is more than a runic rhyme, and like many more of our popular strains might supply us with a most interesting and instructive entertainment; but we must hasten on with the moon-man. we come next to britain. alexander neckam, a learned english abbot, poet, and scholar, born in st. albans, in 1157, in commenting on the dispersed shadow in the moon, thus alluded to the vulgar belief: "nonne novisti quid vulgus vocet rusticum in luna portantem spinas? unde quidam vulgariter loquens ait, rusticus in luna quem sarcina deprimit una monstrat per spinas nulli prodesse rapinas." [24] this may be rendered, "do you not know what the people call the rustic in the moon who carries the thorns? whence one vulgarly speaking says, the rustic in the moon, whose burden weighs him down, this changeless truth reveals, he profits not who steals." thomas wright considers neckam's latin version of this popular distich "very curious, as being the earliest allusion we have to the popular legend of the man in the moon." we are specially struck with the reference to theft; while no less noteworthy is the absence of that sabbatarianism, which is the "moral" of the nursery tale. in the british museum there is a manuscript of english poetry of the thirteenth century, containing an old song composed probably about the middle of that century. it was first printed by ritson in his _ancient songs_, the earliest edition of which was published in london, in 1790. the first lines are as follows: "mon in the mone stond ant strit, on is bot-forke is burthen he bereth hit is muche wonder that he na down slyt, for doute leste he valle he shoddreth and shereth." [25] [illustration: moon06] in the _archaeological journal_ we are presented with a relic from the fourteenth century. "mr. hudson taylor submitted to the committee a drawing of an impression of a very remarkable personal seal, here represented of the full size. it is appended to a deed (preserved in the public record office) dated in the ninth year of edward the third, whereby walter de grendene, clerk, sold to margaret, his mother, one messuage, a barn and four acres of ground in the parish of kingston-on-thames. the device appears to be founded on the ancient popular legend that a husbandman who had stolen a bundle of thorns from a hedge was, in punishment of his theft, carried up to the moon. the legend reading _te waltere docebo cur spinas phebo gero_, 'i will teach you, walter, why i carry thorns in the moon,' seems to be an enigmatical mode of expressing the maxim that honesty is the best policy." [26] about fifty years later, in the same century, geoffrey chaucer, in his _troylus and creseide_ adverts to the subject in these lines: "(quod pandarus) thou hast a full great care lest the chorl may fall out of the moone." (book i. stanza 147.) and in another place he says of lady cynthia, or the moon: "her gite was gray, and full of spottis blake, and on her brest a chorl painted ful even, bering a bush of thornis on his backe, whiche for his theft might clime so ner the heaven." whether chaucer wrote the _testament and complaint of creseide_, in which these latter lines occur, is doubted, though it is frequently ascribed to him. [27] dr. reginald peacock, bishop of chichester, in his _repressor_, written about 1449, combats "this opinioun, that a man which stale sumtyme a birthan of thornis was sett in to the moone, there for to abide for euere." thomas dekker, a british dramatist, wrote in 1630: "a starre? nay, thou art more than the moone, for thou hast neither changing quarters, nor a man standing in thy circle with a bush of thornes." [28] and last, but not least, amid the tuneful train, william shakespeare, without whom no review of english literature or of poetic lore could be complete, twice mentions the man in the moon. first, in the _midsummer night's dream_, act iii. scene 1, quince the carpenter gives directions for the performance of pyramus and thisby, who "meet by moonlight," and says, "one must come in with a bush of thorns and a lanthorn, and say he comes to disfigure, or to present, the person of moonshine." then in act v. the player of that part says, "all that i have to say is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; i, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog." and, secondly, in the _tempest_, act ii., scene 2, caliban and stephano in dialogue: "_cal_. hast thou not dropp'd from heaven? _ste_. out o' the moon, i do assure thee. i was the man i' the moon, when time was. _cal_. i have seen thee in her, and i do adore thee: my mistress show'd me thee, thy dog, and bush." robert chambers refers the following singular lines to the man in the moon: adding, "the allusion to jerusalem pipes is curious; jerusalem is often applied, in scottish popular fiction, to things of a nature above this world": "i sat upon my houtie croutie (hams), i lookit owre my rumple routie (haunch), and saw john heezlum peezlum playing on jerusalem pipes." [29] here is an old-fashioned couplet belonging probably to our northern borders: "the man in the moon sups his sowins with a cutty spoon." halliwell explains _sowins_ to be a northumberland dish of coarse oatmeal and milk, and a _cutty_ spoon to be a very _small_ spoon. [30] wales is not without a memorial of this myth, for mr. baring-gould tells us that "there is an ancient pictorial representation of our friend the sabbath-breaker in gyffyn church, near conway. the roof of the chancel is divided into compartments, in four of which are the evangelistic symbols, rudely, yet effectively painted. besides these symbols is delineated in each compartment an orb of heaven. the sun, the moon, and two stars, are placed at the feet of the angel, the bull, the lion, and the eagle. the representation of the moon is as follows: in the disk is the conventional man with his bundle of sticks, but without the dog." [31] mr. gould says, "our friend the sabbath-breaker" perhaps the artist would have said "the thief," for stealing appears to be more antique. [illustration: moon07] representation in gyffyn church, near conway. a french superstition, lingering to the present day, regards the man in the moon as judas iscariot, transported to the moon for his treason. this plainly is a christian invention. some say the figure is isaac bearing a burthen of wood for the sacrifice of himself on mount moriah. others that it is cain carrying a bundle of thorns on his shoulder, and offering to the lord the cheapest gift from the field. [32] this was dante's view, as the succeeding passages will show: "for now doth cain with fork of thorns confine on either hemisphere, touching the wave beneath the towers of seville. yesternight the moon was round." (_hell_. canto xx., line 123.) "but tell, i pray thee, whence the gloomy spots upon this body, which below on earth give rise to talk of cain in fabling quaint?" (_paradise_, ii. 50.) [33] when we leave europe, and look for the man in the moon under other skies, we find him, but with an altogether new aspect. he is the same, and yet another; another, yet the same. in china he plays a pleasing part in connubial affairs. "the chinese 'old man in the moon' is known as _yue-lao_, and is reputed to hold in his hands the power of predestining the marriages of mortals--so that marriages, if not, according to the native idea, exactly made in heaven, are made somewhere beyond the bounds of earth. he is supposed to tie together the future husband and wife with an invisible silken cord, which never parts so long as life exists." [34] this must be the man of the honey-moon, and we shall not meet his superior in any part of the world. among the khasias of the himalaya mountains "the changes of the moon are accounted for by the theory that this orb, who is a man, monthly falls in love with his wife's mother, who throws ashes in his face. the sun is female." [35] the slavonic legend, following the himalayan, says that "the moon, king of night and husband of the sun, faithlessly loves the morning star, wherefore he was cloven through in punishment, as we see him in the sky." [36] "one man in his time plays many parts," and the man in the moon is no exception to the rule. in africa his _rôle_ is a trying one; for "in bushman astrological mythology the moon is looked upon as a man who incurs the wrath of the sun, and is consequently pierced by the knife (_i.e._ rays) of the latter. this process is repeated until almost the whole of the moon is cut away, and only a little piece left; which the moon piteously implores the sun to spare for his (the moon's) children. (the moon is in bushman mythology a male being.) from this little piece, the moon gradually grows again until it becomes a full moon, when the sun's stabbing and cutting processes recommence." [37] we cross the atlantic, and among the greenlanders discover a myth, which is _sui generis_. "the sun and moon are nothing else than two mortals, brother and sister. they were playing with others at children's games in the dark, when _malina_, being teased in a shameful manner by her brother _anninga_, smeared her hands with the soot of the lamp, and rubbed them over the face and hands of her persecutor, that she might recognise him by daylight. hence arise the spots in the moon. malina wished to save herself by flight, but her brother followed at her heels. at length she flew upwards, and became the sun. anninga followed her, and became the moon; but being unable to mount so high, he runs continually round the sun, in hopes of some time surprising her. when he is tired and hungry in his last quarter, he leaves his house on a sledge harnessed to four huge dogs, to hunt seals, and continues abroad for several days. he now fattens so prodigiously on the spoils of the chase, that he soon grows into the full moon. he rejoices on the death of women, and the sun has her revenge on the death of men; all males therefore keep within doors during an eclipse of the sun, and females during that of the moon." [38] this esquimaux story, which has some interesting features, is told differently by dr. hayes, the arctic explorer, who puts a lighted taper into the sun's hands, with which she discovered her brother, and which now causes her bright light, "while the moon, having lost his taper, is cold, and could not be seen but for his sister's light." [39] this belief prevails as far south as panama, for the inhabitants of the isthmus of darien have a tradition that the man in the moon was guilty of gross misconduct towards his elder sister, the sun. [40] the creek indians say that the moon is inhabited by a man and a dog. the native tribes of british columbia, too, have their myth. mr. william duncan writes to the church missionary society: "one very dark night i was told that there was a moon to be seen on the beach. on going to see, there was an illuminated disk, with the figure of a man upon it. the water was then very low, and one of the conjuring parties had lit up this disk at the water's edge. they had made it to wax with great exactness, and presently it was at full. it was an imposing sight. nothing could be seen around it; but the indians suppose that the medicine party are then holding converse with the man in the moon." [41] mr. duncan was at another time led to the ancestral village of a tribe of indians, whose chief said to him: "this is the place where our fore fathers lived, and they told us something we want to tell you. the story is as follows: 'one night a child of the chief class awoke and cried for water. its cries were very affecting--"mother, give me to drink!" but the mother heeded not. the moon was affected, and came down, entered the house, and approached the child, saying, "here is water from heaven: drink." the child anxiously laid hold of the pot and drank the draught, and was enticed to go away with the moon, its benefactor. they took an underground passage till they got quite clear of the village, and then ascended to heaven.' and," said the chief, "our forefathers tell us that the figure we now see in the moon is that very child; and also the little round basket which it had in its hand when it went to sleep appears there." [42] the aborigines of new zealand have a suggestive version of this superstition. it is quoted from d'urville by de rougemont in his _le peuple primitif_ (tom. ii. p. 245), and is as follows:--"before the moon gave light, a new zealander named rona went out in the night to fetch some water from the well. but he stumbled and unfortunately sprained his ankle, and was unable to return home. all at once, as he cried out for very anguish, he beheld with fear and horror that the moon, suddenly becoming visible, descended towards him. he seized hold of a tree, and clung to it for safety; but it gave way, and fell with rona upon the moon; and he remains there to this day." [43] another account of rona varies in that he escapes falling into the well by seizing a tree, and both he and the tree were caught up to the moon. the variation indicates that the legend has a living root. here we terminate our somewhat wearisome wanderings about the world and through the mazes of mythology in quest of the man in the moon. as we do so, we are constrained to emphasize the striking similarity between the scandinavian myth of jack and jill, that exquisite tradition of the british columbian chief, and the new zealand story of rona. when three traditions, among peoples so far apart geographically, so essentially agree in one, the lessons to be learned from comparative mythology ought not to be lost upon the philosophical student of human history. to the believer in the unity of our race such a comparison of legends is of the greatest importance. as mr. tylor tells us, "the number of myths recorded as found in different countries, where it is hardly conceivable that they should have grown independently, goes on steadily increasing from year to year, each one furnishing a new clue by which common descent or intercourse is to be traced." [44] the same writer says on another page of his valuable work, "the mythmaking faculty belongs to mankind in general, and manifests itself in the most distant regions, where its unity of principle develops itself in endless variety of form." [45] take, for example, china and england, representing two distinct races, two languages, two forms of religion, and two degrees of civilization yet, as w. f. mayers remarks, "no one can compare the chinese legend with the popular european belief in the 'man in the moon,' without feeling convinced of the certainty that the chinese superstition and the english nursery tale are both derived from kindred parentage, and are linked in this relationship by numerous subsidiary ties. in all the range of chinese mythology there is, perhaps, no stronger instance of identity with the traditions that have taken root in europe than in the case of the legends relating to the moon." [46] this being the case, our present endeavour to establish the consanguinity of the nations, on the ground of agreement in myths and modes of faith and worship, cannot be labour thrown away. the recognition of friends in heaven is an interesting speculation; but far more good must result, as concerns this life at least, from directing our attention to the recognition of friends on earth. if we duly estimate the worth of any comparative science, whether of anatomy or philology, mythology or religion, this is the grand generalization to be attained, essential unity consistent and concurrent with endless multiformity; many structures, but one life; many creeds, but one faith; many beings and becomings, but all emanating from one paternity, cohering through one presence, and converging to one perfection, in him who is the author and former and finisher of all things which exist. let no man therefore ridicule a myth as puerile if it be an aid to belief in that commonweal of humanity for which the founder of the purest religion was a witness and a martyr. we have sought out the man in the moon mainly because it was one out of many scattered stories which, as max müller nobly says, "though they may be pronounced childish and tedious by some critics, seem to me to glitter with the brightest dew of nature's own poetry, and to contain those very touches that make us feel akin, not only with homer or shakespeare, but even with lapps, and finns, and kaffirs." [47] vico discovered the value of myths, as an addition to our knowledge of the mental and moral life of the men of the myth-producing period. professor flint tells us that mythology, as viewed by the contemporaries of vico, "appeared to be merely a rubbish-heap, composed of waste, worthless, and foul products of mind; but he perceived that it contained the materials for a science which would reflect the mind and history of humanity, and even asserted some general principles as to how these materials were to be interpreted and utilised, which have since been established, or at least endorsed, by heyne, creuzer, c o müller, and others." [48] let us cease to call that common which god has cleansed, and with thankfulness recognise the solidarity of the human race, to which testimony is borne by even a lunar myth. we now return to the point whence we deflected, and rejoin the chief actor in the selenographic comedy. it is a relief to get away from the legendary man in the moon, and to have the real man once more in sight. we are like the little boy, whom the obliging visitor, anxious to show that he was passionately fond of children, and never annoyed by them in the least, treated to a ride upon his knee. "trot, trot, trot; how do you enjoy that, my little man? isn't that nice?" "yes, sir," replied the child, "but not so nice as on the real donkey, the one with the four legs." it is true, the mythical character has redeeming traits; but then he breaks the sabbath, obstructs people going to mass, steals cabbages, and is undergoing sentence of transportation for life. while the real man, who lives in a well-lighted crescent, thoroughly ventilated; whose noble profile is sometimes seen distinctly when he passes by on the shady side of the way; whose beaming countenance is at other times turned full upon us, reflecting nothing but sunshine as he winks at his many admirers: he is a being of quite another order. we do not forget that he has been represented with a claret jug in one hand, and a claret cup in the other; that he frequently takes half and half; that he is a smoker; that he sometimes gets up when other people are going to bed; that he often stops out all the night; and is too familiar with the low song- "we won't go home till morning." but these are mere eccentricities of greatness, and with all such irregularities he is "a very delectable, highly respectable" young fellow; in short, "a most intense young man, a soul-full-eyed young man, an ultra-poetical, super-aesthetical, out-of-the-way young man." why, he has been known to take the shine out of old sol himself; though from his partiality to us it always makes him look black in the face when we, alexander-like, stand between him and that luminary. we, too, are the only people by whom he ever allows himself to be eclipsed. illustrious man in the moon i he has lifted our thoughts from earth to heaven, and we are reluctant to leave him. but the best of friends must part; especially as other lunar inhabitants await attention. "other inhabitants!" some one may exclaim. surely! we reply; and though it will necessitate a digression, we touch upon the question _en passant_. cicero informs us that "xenophanes says that the moon is inhabited, and a country having several towns and mountains in it." [49] this single dictum will be sufficient for those who bow to the influence of authority in matters of opinion. settlement of questions by "texts" is a saving of endless pains. for that there are such lunar inhabitants must need little proof. every astronomer is aware that the moon is full of craters; and every linguist is aware that "cratur" is the irish word for creature. or, to state the argument syllogistically, as our old friend aristotle would have done: "craturs" are inhabitants; the moon is full of craters; therefore the moon is full of inhabitants. we appeal to any unbiased mind whether such argumentation is not as sound as much of our modern reasoning, conducted with every pretence to logic and lucidity. besides, who has not heard of that astounding publication, issued fifty years since, and entitled _great astronomical discoveries lately made by sir john herschel, ll.d., f.r.s., etc., at the cape of good hope_? one writer dares to designate it a singular satire; stigmatizes it as the once celebrated _moon hoax_, and attributes it to one richard alton locke, of the united states. what an insinuation! that a man born under the star-spangled banner could trifle with astronomy. but if a few incredulous persons doubted, a larger number of the credulous believed. when the first number appeared in the new york sun, in september, 1835, the excitement aroused was intense. the paper sold daily by thousands; and when the articles came out as a pamphlet, twenty thousand went off at once. not only in young america, but also in old england, france, and throughout europe, the wildest enthusiasm prevailed. could anybody reasonably doubt that sir john had seen wonders, when it was known that his telescope contained a prodigious lens, weighing nearly seven tons, and possessing a magnifying power estimated at 42,000 times? a reverend astronomer tells us that sir frederick beaufort, having occasion to write to sir john herschel at the cape, asked if he had heard of the report current in england that he (sir john) had discovered sheep, oxen, and flying _men_ in the moon. sir john had heard the report; and had further heard that an american divine had "improved" the revelations. the said divine had told his congregation that, on account of the wonderful discoveries of the present age, lie lived in expectation of one day calling upon them for a subscription to buy bibles for the benighted inhabitants of the moon. [50] what more needs to be said? give our astronomical mechanicians a little time, and they will produce an instrument for full verification of these statements regarding the lunar inhabitants; and we may realize more than we have imagined or dreamed. we may obtain observations as satisfactory as those of a son of the emerald isle, who was one day boasting to a friend of his excellent telescope. "do you see yonder church?" said he. "although it is scarcely discernible with the naked eye, when i look at it through my telescope, it brings it so close that i can hear the organ playing." two hundred years ago, a wise man witnessed a wonderful phenomenon in the moon: he actually beheld a live elephant there. but the unbelieving have ever since made all manner of fun at the good knight's expense. take the following burlesque of this celebrated discovery as an instance. "sir paul neal, a conceited virtuoso of the seventeenth century, gave out that he had discovered 'an elephant in the moon.' it turned out that a mouse had crept into his telescope, which had been mistaken for an elephant in the moon." [51] well, we concede that an elephant and a mouse are very much alike; but surely sir paul was too sagacious to be deceived by resemblances. if we had more faith, which is indispensable in such matters, the revelations of science, however extraordinary or extravagant, would be received without a murmur of distrust. we should not then meet with such sarcasm as we found in the seventeenth century _jest book_ before quoted: "one asked why men should thinke there was a world in the moone? it was answered, because they were lunatique." according to promise, we must make mention of at least one visit paid by our hero to this lower world. we do this in the classic language of a student of that grand old university which stands in the city of oxford. may the horns of oxford be exalted, and the shadow of the university never grow less, while the moon endureth! "the man in the moon! why came he down from his peaceful realm on high; where sorrowful moan is all unknown, and nothing is born to die? the man in the moon was tired, it seems, of living so long in the land of dreams; 'twas a beautiful sphere, but nevertheless its lunar life was passionless; unchequered by sorrow, undimmed by crime, untouched by the wizard wand of time; 'twas all too grand, there was no scope for dread, and of course no room for hope to him the future had no fear, to make the present doubly dear; the day no cast of coming night, to make the borrowed ray more bright; and life itself no thought of death, to sanctify the boon of breath:- in short, as we world-people say, the man in the moon was _ennuyé_." [52] poor man in the moon! what a way he must have been in! we hope that he found improving fellowship, say among the fellows of some royal astronomical society; and that when e returned to his skylight, or lighthouse on the coast of immensity's wide sea, he returned a wiser and much happier man. it is for us, too, to remember with spenser, "the noblest mind the best contentment has." and now we record a few visits which men of this sublunary sphere are said to have paid to the moon. the chronicles are unfortunately very incomplete. aiming at historical fulness and fidelity, we turned to our national bibliotheca at the british museum, where we fished out of the vasty deep of treasures a ms. without date or name. we wish the irish orator's advice were oftener followed by literary authors. said he, "never write an anonymous letter without signing your name to it." this ms. is entitled "_selenographia_, or news from the world in the moon to the lunatics of this world. by lucas lunanimus of lunenberge." [53] we are here told how the author, "making himself a kite of ye hight(?) of a large sheet, and tying himself to the tayle of it, by the help of some trusty friends, to whom he promised mountains of land in this his new-found world; being furnished also with a tube, horoscope, and other instruments of discovery, he set saile the first of aprill, a day alwaies esteemed prosperous for such adventures." fearing, however, lest the date of departure should make some suspicious that the author was desirous of making his readers april fools, we leave this aërial tourist to pursue his explorations without our company, and listen to a learned bishop, who ought to be a canonical authority, for the man in the moon himself is an overseer of men. dr. francis godwin, first of llandaff, afterwards of hereford, wrote about the year 1600 _the man in the moone_, or a discourse of a voyage thither. this was published in 1638, under the pseudonym of domingo gonsales. the enterprising aeronaut went up from the island of el pico, carried by wild swans. _swans_, be it observed. it was not a wild-goose chase. the author is careful to tell us what we believe so soon as it is declared. "the further we went, the lesser the globe of the earth appeared to us; whereas still on the contrary side the moone showed herselfe more and more monstrously huge." after eleven days' passage, the exact time that arago allowed for a cannon ball to reach the moon, "another earth" was approached. "i perceived that it was covered for the most part with a huge and mighty sea, those parts only being drie land, which show unto us here somewhat darker than the rest of her body; that i mean which the country people call _el hombre della luna_, the man of the moone." this last clause demands a protest. the bishop knocks the country-people's man out of the moon, to make room for his own man, which episcopal creation is twenty-eight feet high, and weighs twenty-five or thirty of any of us. besides ordinary men, of extraordinary measurement, the bishop finds in the moon princes and queens. the females, or lunar ladies, as a matter of course, are of absolute beauty. their language has "no affinity with any other i ever heard." this is a poor look-out for the american divine who expects to send english bibles to the moon. "food groweth everywhere without labour": this is a cheering prospect for our working classes who may some day go there. "they need no lawyers": oh what a country! "and as little need is there of physicians." why, the moon must be paradise regained. but, alas! "they die, or rather (i should say) cease to live." well, my lord bishop, is not that how we die on earth? perhaps we need to be learned bishops to appreciate the difference. if so, we might accept episcopal distinction. lucian, the greek satirist, in his _voyage to the globe of the moon_, sailed through the sky for the space of seven days and nights and on the eighth "arrived in a great round and shining island which hung in the air and yet was inhabited. these inhabitants were hippogypians, and their king was endymion." [54] some of the ancients thought the lunarians were fifteen times larger than we are, and our oaks but bushes compared with their trees. so natural is it to magnify prophets not of our own country. william hone tells us that a mr. wilson, formerly curate of halton gill, near skipton-in-craven, yorkshire, in the last century wrote a tract entitled _the man in the moon_, which was seriously meant to convey the knowledge of common astronomy in the following strange vehicle: a cobbler, israel jobson by name, is supposed to ascend first to the top of penniguit; and thence, as a second stage equally practicable, to the moon; after which he makes the grand tour of the whole solar system. from this excursion, however, the traveller brings back little information which might not have been had upon earth, excepting that the inhabitants of one of the planets, i forget which, were made of "pot metal." [55] this curious tract, full of other extravagances, is rarely if ever met with, it having been zealously bought up by its writer's family. we must not be detained with any detailed account of m. jules verne's captivating books, entitled _from the earth to the moon_, and _around the moon_. they are accessible to all, at a trifling cost. besides, they reveal nothing new relating to the hamlet of our present play. nor need we more than mention "the surprising adventures of the renowned baron munchausen." his lunarians being over thirty-six feet high, and "a common flea being much larger than one of our sheep," [56] munchausen's moon must be declined, with thanks. "certain travellers, like the author of the _voyage au monde de descartes_, have found, on visiting these different lunar countries, that the great men whose names they had arbitrarily received took possession of them in the course of the sixteenth century, and there fixed their residence. these immortal souls, it seems, continued their works and systems inaugurated on earth. thus it is, that on mount aristotle a real greek city has risen, peopled with peripatetic philosophers, and guarded by sentinels armed with propositions, antitheses, and sophisms, the master himself living in the centre of the town in a magnificent palace. thus also in plato's circle live souls continually occupied in the study of the prototype of ideas. two years ago a fresh division of lunar property was made, some astronomers being generously enriched." [57] that the moon is an abode of the departed spirits of men, an upper hades, has been believed for ages. in the egyptian _book of respirations_, which m. p. j. de horrack has translated from the ms. in the louvre in paris, isis breathes the wish for her brother osiris "that his soul may rise to heaven in the disk of the moon." [58] plutarch says, "of these soules the moon is the element, because soules doe resolve into her, like as the bodies of the dead into the earth." [59] to this ancient theory mr. tylor refers when he writes, "and when in south america the saliva indians have pointed out the moon, their paradise where no mosquitoes are, and the guaycurus have shown it as the home of chiefs and medicine-men deceased, and the polynesians of tokelau in like manner have claimed it as the abode of departed kings and chiefs, then these pleasant fancies may be compared with that ancient theory mentioned by plutarch, that hell is in the air and elysium in the moon, and again with the mediaeval conception of the moon as the seat of hell, a thought elaborated in profoundest bathos by mr. m. f. tupper: 'i know thee well, o moon, thou cavern'd realm, sad satellite, thou giant ash of death, blot on god's firmament, pale home of crime, scarr'd prison house of sin, where damnèd souls feed upon punishment. oh, thought sublime, that amid night's black deeds, when evil prowls through the broad world, thou, watching sinners well, glarest o'er all, the wakeful eye of--hell!' skin for skin, the brown savage is not ill-matched in such speculative lore with the white philosopher." [60] the last journey to the moon on our list we introduce for the sake of its sacred lesson. pure religion is an attic salt, which wise men use in all of their entertainments: a condiment which seasons what is otherwise insipid, and assists healthy digestion in the compound organism of man's mental and moral constitution. about seventy years since, a little tract was published, in which the writer imagined himself on _luna firma_. after giving the inhabitants of the moon an account of our terrestrial race, of its fall and redemption, and of the unhappiness of those who neglect the great salvation, he says, "the secret is this, that nothing but an infinite god, revealing himself by his spirit to their minds, and enabling them to believe and trust in him, can give perfect and lasting satisfaction." he then adds, "my last observation received the most marked approbation of the lunar inhabitants: they truly pitied the ignorant triflers of our sinful world, who prefer drunkenness, debauchery, sinful amusements, exorbitant riches, flattery, and other things that are highly esteemed amongst men, to the pleasures of godliness, to the life of god in the soul of man, to the animating hope of future bliss." [61] here the man in the moon and we must part. hitherto some may have supposed their thoughts occupied with a mere creature of imagination, or gratuitous creation of an old-world mythology. perhaps the man in the moon is nothing more: perhaps he is very much more. possibly we have information of every being in the universe; and possibly there are beings in every existing world of which we know nothing whatever. the latter possibility we deem much the more probable. remembering our littleness as contrasted with the magnitude of the whole creation, we prefer to believe that there are rational creatures in other worlds besides this small-sized sphere in, it may be, a small-sized system. therefore, till we acquire more conclusive evidence than has yet been adduced, we will not regard even the moon as an empty abode, but as the home of beings whom, in the absence of accurate definition, we denominate men. whether the man in the moon have a body like our own, whether his breathing apparatus, his digestive functions, and his cerebral organs, be identical with ours, are matters of secondary moment. the fabricator of terrestrial organizations has limited himself to no one type or form, why then should man be the model of beings in distant worlds? be the man in the moon a biped or quadruped; see he through two eyes as we do, or a hundred like argus; hold he with two hands as we do, or a hundred like briarius; walk he with two feet as we do, or a hundred like the centipede, "the mind's the standard of the man" everywhere. if he have but a wise head and a warm heart; if he be not shut up, diogenes--like, within his own little tub of a world, but take an interest in the inhabitants of kindred spheres; and if he be a worshipper of the one god who made the heavens with all their glittering hosts;--then, in the highest sense, he is a _man_, to whom we would fain extend the hand of fellowship, claiming him as a brother in that universal family which is confined to no bone or blood, no colour or creed, and, so far as we can conjecture, to no world, but is co-extensive with the household of the infinite father, who cares for all of his children, and will ultimately blend them in the blessed bonds of an endless confraternity. whether we or our posterity will ever become better acquainted in this life with the man in the moon is problematical; but in the ages to come, "when the manifold wisdom of god" shall be developed among "the principalities and powers in heavenly places," he may be something more than a myth or topic of amusement. he may be visible among the first who will declare every man in his own tongue wherein he was born the wonderful works of god, and he may be audible among the first who will lift their hallelujahs of undivided praise when every satellite shall be a chorister to laud the universal king. let us, brothers of earth, by high and holy living, learn the music of eternity; and then, when the discord of "life's little day" is hushed, and we are called to join in the everlasting song, we may solve in one beatific moment the problem of the plurality of worlds, and in that solution we shall see more than we have been able to see at present of the man in the moon. iii. the woman in the moon. "o woman! lovely woman! nature made thee to temper man; we had been brutes without you. angels are painted fair, to look like you: there's in you all that we believe of heaven amazing brightness, purity, and truth, eternal joy, and everlasting love." (otway's _venice preserved_, 1682.) it is not good that the man in the moon should be alone; therefore creative imagination has supplied him with a companion. the woman in the moon as a myth does not obtain to any extent in europe; she is to be found chiefly in polynesia, and among the native races of north america. the _middle kingdom_ furnishes the following allusion: "the universal legend of the man in the moon takes in china a form that is at least as interesting as the ruder legends of more barbarous people. the 'goddess of the palace of the moon,' chang-o, appeals as much to our sympathies as, and rather more so than, the ancient beldame who, in european folk-lore, picks up perpetual sticks to satisfy the vengeful ideas of an ultra-sabbatical sect. mr. g. c. stent has aptly seized the idea of the chinese versifier whom he translates "on a gold throne, whose radiating brightness dazzles the eyes--enhaloing the scene, sits a fair form, arrayed in snowy whiteness. she is chang-o, the beauteous fairy queen. rainbow-winged angels softly hover o'er her, forming a canopy above the throne; a host of fairy beings stand before her, each robed in light, and girt with meteor zone.'" [62] a touching tradition is handed down by berthold that the moon is mary magdalene, and the spots her tears of repentance. [63] fontenelle, the french poet and philosopher, saw a woman in the moon's changes. "everything," he says, "is in perpetual motion; even including a certain young lady in the moon, who was seen with a telescope about forty years ago, everything has considerably aged. she had a pretty good face, but her cheeks are now sunken, her nose is lengthened, her forehead and chin are now prominent to such an extent, that all her charms have vanished, and i fear for her days." "what are you relating to me now?" interrupted the marchioness. "this is no jest," replied fontenelle. "astronomers perceived in the moon a particular figure which had the aspect of a woman's head, which came forth from between the rocks, and then occurred some changes in this region. some pieces of mountain fell, and disclosed three points which could only serve to compose a forehead, a nose, and an old woman's chin." [64] doubtless the face and the disfigurements were fictions of the author's lively imagination, and his words savour less of science than of satire; but fontenelle was neither the first nor the last of those to whom "the inconstant moon that monthly changes" has been an impersonation of the fickle and the feminine. the following illustration is from plutarch: "cleobulus said, as touching fooles, i will tell you a tale which i heard my mother once relate unto a brother of mine. the time was (quoth she) that the moone praied her mother to make her a peticoate fit and proportionate for her body. why, how is it possible (quoth her mother) that i should knit or weave one to fit well about thee considering that i see thee one while full, another while croissant or in the wane and pointed with tips of horns, and sometime again halfe rounde?" [65] old john lilly, one of our sixteenth-century dramatists, likewise supports this ungallant theory. in the _prologus_ to one of his very rare dramas he writes: "our poet slumb'ring in the muses laps, hath seen a woman seated in the moone." [66] this woman is pandora, the mischief-maker among the utopian shepherds. in act v. she receives her commission to conform the moon to her own mutability: "now rule _pandora_ in fayre _cynthia's_ steede, and make the moone inconstant like thyselfe, raigne thou at women's nuptials, and their birth, let them be mutable in all their loves. fantasticall, childish, and folish, in their desires demanding toyes; and stark madde when they cannot have their will." in north america the woman in the moon is a cosmological myth. take, for example, the tale told by the esquimaux, which word is the french form of the algonquin indian _eskimantsic_, "raw-flesh eaters." "their tradition of the formation of the sun and moon is, that not long after the world was formed, a great conjuror or angikak became so powerful that he could ascend into the heavens when he pleased, and on one occasion took with him a beautiful sister whom he loved very much, and also some fire, to which he added great quantities of fuel, and thus formed the sun. for a time the conjuror treated his sister with great kindness, and they lived happily together; but at last he became cruel, ill-used her in many ways, and, as a climax, burnt one side of her face with fire. after this last indignity she ran away from him and became the moon. her brother in the sun has been in chase of her ever since; but although he sometimes gets near, will never overtake her. when new moon, the burnt side of her face is towards the earth; when full moon, the reverse is the case." [67] the likeness between this tradition and the greenlanders' myth of malina and anninga is very close, the difference consisting chiefly in the change of sex; here the moon is feminine, there the moon is masculine. [68] in brazil the story is further varied, in that it is the sister who falls in love, and receives a discoloured face for her offence. professor hartt says that dr. silva de coutinho found on the rio branco and sr. barbosa has reported from the jamundá a myth "in which the moon is represented as a maiden who fell in love with her brother and visited him at night, but who was finally betrayed by his passing his blackened hand over her face." [69] the ottawa tale of indian cosmogony, called iosco, narrates the adventures of two indians who "found themselves in a beautiful country, lighted by the moon, which shed around a mild and pleasant light. they could see the moon approaching as if it were from behind a hill. they advanced, and the aged woman spoke to them; she had a white face and pleasing air, and looked rather old, though she spoke to them very kindly. they knew from her first appearance that she was the moon. she asked them several questions. she informed them that they were halfway to her brother's (the sun), and that from the earth to her abode was half the distance." [70] other american indians have a tradition of an old woman who lived with her grand-daughter, the most beautiful girl that ever was seen in the country. coming of age, she wondered that only herself and her grandmother were in the world. the grandam explained that an evil spirit had destroyed all others; but that she by her power had preserved herself and her grand-daughter. this did not satisfy the young girl, who thought that surely some survivors might be found. she accordingly travelled in search, till on the tenth day she found a lodge inhabited by eleven brothers, who were hunters. the eleventh took her to wife, and died after a son was born. the widow then wedded each of the others, beginning with the youngest. when she took the eldest, she soon grew tired of him, and fled away by the western portal of the hunter's lodge. tearing up one of the stakes which supported the door, she disappeared in the earth with her little dog. soon all trace of the fugitive was lost. then she emerged from the earth in the east, where she met an old man fishing in the sea. this person was he who made the earth. he bade her pass into the air toward the west. meanwhile the deserted husband pursued his wife into the earth on the west, and out again on the east, where the tantalizing old fisherman cried out to him, "go, go; you will run after your wife as long as the earth lasts without ever overtaking her, and the nations who will one day be upon the earth will call you _gizhigooke_, he who makes the day." from this is derived _gizis_, the sun. some of the indians count only eleven moons, which represent the eleven brothers, dying one after another. [71] passing on to polynesia, we reach samoa, where "we are told that the moon came down one evening, and picked up a woman, called sina, and her child. it was during a time of famine. she was working in the evening twilight, beating out some bark with which to make native cloth. the moon was just rising, and it reminded her of a great bread-fruit. looking up to it, she said, 'why cannot you come down and let my child have a bit of you?' the moon was indignant at the idea of being eaten, came down forthwith, and took her up, child, board, mallet, and all. the popular superstition is not yet forgotten in samoa of the _woman_ in the moon. 'yonder is sina,' they say, 'and her child, and her mallet, and board.'" [72] the same belief is held in the adjacent tonga group, or friendly islands, as they were named by captain cook, on account of the supposed friendliness of the natives. "as to the spots in the moon, they are compared to the figure of a woman sitting down and beating _gnatoo_" (bark used for clothing). [73] in mangaia, the southernmost island of the hervey cluster, the woman in the moon is ina, the pattern wife, who is always busy, and indefatigable in the preparation of resplendent cloth, _i.e. white clouds_. at atiu it is said that ina took to her celestial abode a mortal husband, whom, after many happy years, she sent back to the earth on a beautiful rainbow, lest her fair home should be defiled by death. [74] professor max müller is reminded by this story of selênê and endymion, of eos and tithonos. iv. the hare in the moon. when the moon is waxing, from about the eighth day to the full, it requires no very vivid imagination to descry on the westward side of the lunar disk a large patch very strikingly resembling a rabbit or hare. the oriental noticing this figure, his poetical fancy developed the myth-making faculty, which in process of time elaborated the legend of the hare in the moon, which has left its marks in every quarter of the globe. in asia it is indigenous, and is an article of religious belief. "to the common people in india the spots look like a hare, _i.e._ chandras, the god of the moon, carries a hare (sasa), hence the moon is called sasin or sasanka, hare mark or spot." [75] max müller also writes, "as a curious coincidence it may be mentioned that in sanskrit the moon is called sasanka,_i.e._ 'having the marks of a hare,' the black marks in the moon being taken for the likeness of the hare." [76] this allusion to the sacred language of the hindus affords a convenient opportunity of introducing one of the most beautiful legends of the east. it is a buddhist tract; but in the lesson which it embodies it will compare very favourably with many a tract more ostensibly christian. "in former days, a hare, a monkey, a coot, and a fox, became hermits, and lived in a wilderness together, after having sworn not to kill any living thing. the god sakkria having seen this through his divine power, thought to try their faith, and accordingly took upon him the form of a brahmin, and appearing before the monkey begged of him alms, who immediately brought to him a bunch of mangoes, and presented it to him. the pretended brahmin, having left the monkey, went to the coot and made the same request, who presented him a row of fish which he had just found on the bank of a river, evidently forgotten by a fisherman. the brahmin then went to the fox, who immediately went in search of food, and soon returned with a pot of milk and a dried liguan, which he had found in a plain, where apparently they had been left by a herdsman. the brahmin at last went to the hare and begged alms of him. the hare said, 'friend, i eat nothing but grass, which i think is of no use to you.' then the pretended brahmin replied, 'why, friend, if you are a true hermit, you can give me your own flesh in hope of future happiness.' the hare directly consented to it, and said to the supposed brahmin, 'i have granted your request, and you may do whatever you please with me.' the brahmin then replied, 'since you are willing to grant my request, i will kindle a fire at the foot of the rock, from which you may jump into the fire, which will save me the trouble of killing you and dressing your flesh.' the hare readily agreed to it, and jumped from the top of the rock into the fire which the supposed brahmin had kindled; but before he reached the fire, it was extinguished; and the brahmin appearing in his natural shape of the god sakkria, took the hare in his arms and immediately drew its figure in the moon, in order that every living thing of every part of the world might see it." [77] all will acknowledge that this is a very beautiful allegory. how many in england, as well as in ceylon, are described by the monkey, the coot, and the fox--willing to bring their god any oblation which costs them nothing; but how few are like the hare--ready to present themselves as a living sacrifice, to be consumed as a burnt offering in the divine service! those, however, who lose their lives in such self-sacrifice, shall find them, and be caught up to "shine as the brightness of the firmament and as the stars for ever and ever." another version of this legend is slightly variant. grimm says: "the people of ceylon relate as follows: while buddha the great god sojourned upon earth as a hermit, he one day lost his way in a wood. he had wandered long, when a _hare_ accosted him: 'cannot i help thee? strike into the path on thy right. i will guide thee out of the wilderness.' buddha replied: 'thank thee, but i am poor and hungry, and unable to repay thy kindness.' 'if thou art hungry,' said the hare, 'light a fire, and kill, roast, and eat me.' buddha made a fire, and the hare immediately jumped in. then did buddha manifest his divine power; he snatched the beast out of the flames, and set him in the moon, where he may be seen to this day." [78] francis douce, the antiquary, relates this myth, and adds, "this is from the information of a learned and intelligent french gentleman recently arrived from ceylon, who adds that the cingalese would often request of him to permit them to look for the hare through his telescope, and exclaim in raptures that they saw it. it is remarkable that the chinese represent the moon by a rabbit pounding rice in a mortar. their mythological moon jut-ho is figured by a beautiful young woman with a double sphere behind her head, and a rabbit at her feet. the period of this animal's gestation is thirty days; may it not therefore typify the moon's revolution round the earth." [79] [illustration: moon08] sâkyamuni as a hare in the moon. _collin de plancy's_ "_dictionnaire infernal_." in this same apologue we have doubtless a duplicate, the original or a copy, of another buddhist legend found among the kalmucks of tartary; in which sâkyamuni himself, in an early stage of existence, had inhabited the body of a hare. giving himself as food to feed the hunger of a starving creature, he was immediately placed in the moon, where he is still to be seen. [80] the mongolian also sees a hare in the lunar shadows. we are told by a chinese scholar that "tradition earlier than the period of the han dynasty asserted that a hare inhabited the surface of the moon, and later taoist fable depicted this animal, called the gemmeous hare, as the servitor of the genii, who employ it in pounding the drugs which compose the elixir of life. the connection established in chinese legend between the hare and the moon is probably traceable to an indian original. in sanskrit inscriptions the moon is called sason, from a fancied resemblance of its spots to a leveret; and pandits, to whom maps of the moon's service have been shown, have fixed on _loca paludosa_, and _mons porphyrites_ or _keplerus_ and _aristarchus_, for the spots which they think exhibit the similitude of a hare." [81] on another page of the same work we read: "during the t'ang dynasty it was recounted that a cassia tree grows in the moon, this notion being derived apparently from an indian source. the _sal_ tree (_shorea robusta_), one of the sacred trees of the buddhists, was said during the sung dynasty to be identical with the cassia tree in the moon. the lunar hare is said to squat at the foot of the cassia tree, pounding its drugs for the genii. the cassia tree in the moon is said to be especially visible at mid-autumn, and hence to take a degree at the examinations which are held at this period is described as plucking a leaf from the cassia." [82] this hare myth, attended with the usual transformation, has travelled to the hottentots of south africa. the fable which follows is entitled "from an original manuscript in english, by mr. john priestly, in sir g. grey's library." "the moon, on one occasion, sent the hare to the earth to inform men that as she (the moon) died away and rose again, so mankind should die and rise again. instead, however, of delivering this message as given, the hare, either out of forgetfulness or malice, told mankind that as the moon rose and died away, so man should die and rise no more. the hare, having returned to the moon, was questioned as to the message delivered, and the moon, having heard the true state of the case, became so enraged with him that she took up a hatchet to split his head; falling short, however, of that, the hatchet fell upon the upper lip of the hare, and cut it severely. hence it is that we see the 'hare-lip.' the hare, being duly incensed at having received such treatment, raised his claws, and scratched the moon's face; and the dark parts which we now see on the surface of the moon are the scars which she received on that occasion." [83] in an account of the hottentot myth of the "origin of death," the angered moon heats a stone and burns the hare's mouth, causing the hare-lip. [84] dr. marshall may tell us, with all the authority of an eminent physiologist, that hare-lip is occasioned by an arrest in the development of certain frontal and nasal processes, [85] and we may receive his explanation as a sweetly simple solution of the question; but who that suffers from this leporine-labial deformity would not prefer a supernatural to a natural cause? better far that the lip should be cleft by shakespeare's "foul fiend flibbertigibbet," than that an abnormal condition should be accounted for by science, or comprised within the reign of physical law. even europe is somewhat hare-brained: for caesar tells us that the britons did not regard it lawful to eat the hare, though he does not say why; and in swabia still, children are forbidden to make shadows on the wall to represent the sacred hare of the moon. we may pursue this matter even in mexico, whose deities and myths a recent hibbert lecturer brought into clearer light, showing that the mexicans "possessed beliefs, institutions, and a developed mythology which would bear comparison with anything known to antiquity in the old world." [86] the tezcucans, as they are usually called, are described by prescott as "a nation of the same great family with the aztecs, whom they rivalled in power, and surpassed in intellectual culture and the arts of social refinement." [87] their account of the creation is that "the sun and moon came out equally bright, but this not seeming good to the gods, one of them took a rabbit by the heels and slung it into the face of the moon, dimming its lustre with a blotch, whose mark may be seen to this day." [88] we have now seen that the fancy of a hare in the moon is universal; but not so much importance is to be attached to this, as to some other aspects of moon mythology. the hare-like patch is visible in every land, and suggested the animal to all observers. that the rabbit's period of gestation is thirty days is a singular coincidence; but that is all--nay, it is not even that, for "the moon's revolution round the earth," which douce supposed the chinese myth to typify, is accomplished in a little more than _twenty-seven_ days. neither is much weight due to the fanciful comparison of gubernatis: "the moon is the watcher of the sky, that is to say, she sleeps with her eyes open; so also does the hare, whence the _somnus leporinus_ became a proverb." [89] the same author says on another page, and here we follow him: "the mythical hare is undoubtedly the moon. in the first story of the third book of the _pancatantram_, the hares dwell upon the shore of the lake candrasaras, or lake of the moon, and their king has for his palace the lunar disk." [90] it is this story, which mr. baring-gould relates in outline; and which we are compelled still further to condense. in a certain forest there once lived a herd of elephants. long drought having dried up the lakes and swamps, an exploring party was sent out in search of a fresh supply of water. an extensive lake was discovered, called the moon lake. the elephants with their king eagerly marched to the spot, and found their thirsty hopes fully realized. all round the lake were in numerable hare warrens, which the tread of the mighty monsters crushed unmercifully, maiming and mangling the helpless inhabitants. when the elephants had withdrawn, the poor hares met together in terrible plight, to consult upon the course which they should take when their enemies returned. one wise hare undertook the task of driving the ponderous herd away. this he did by going alone to the elephant king, and representing himself as the hare which lived in the moon. he stated that he was deputed by his excellency the moon to say that if the elephants came any more to the lake, the beams of night would be withheld, and their bodies would be burned up with perpetual sunshine. the king of the elephants thinking that "the better part of valour is discretion," decided to offer an apology for his offence. he was conducted to the lake, where the moon was reflected in the water, apparently meditating his revenge. the elephant thrust his proboscis into the lake, which disturbed the reflection. whereupon the elephant, judging the moon to be enraged, hurried with his apology, and then went off vowing never to return. the wise hare had proven that "wisdom is better than strength"; and the hares suffered no more molestation. "we may also remark, in this event, the truth of that saying of euripides, 'that one wise counsel is better than the strength of many'" (_polybius_, i. 35). v. the toad in the moon. we owe an immense debt of gratitude and honour to the many enterprising and cultivated men who have gone into all parts of the earth and among all peoples to investigate human history and habit, mythology and religion, and thus enrich the stores of our national literature. with such a host of travellers gathering up the fragments, nothing of value is likely to be lost. we have to thank intelligent explorers for all we know of the mythical frog or toad in the moon: an addition to our information which is not unworthy of thoughtful notice. the selish race of north-west american indians, who inhabit the country between the cascade and rocky mountains, have a tradition, which captain wilson relates as follows: "the expression of 'a toad in the moon,' equivalent to our 'man in the moon,' is explained by a very pretty story relating how the little wolf, being desperately in love with the toad, went a-wooing one night and prayed that the moon might shine brightly on his adventure; his prayer was granted, and by the clear light of a full moon he was pursuing the toad, and had nearly caught her, when, as a last chance of escape, she made a desperate spring on to the face of the moon, where she remains to this day." [91] another writer says that "the cowichan tribes think that the moon has a frog in it." [92] from the great western we turn to the great eastern world, and in china find the frog in the moon. "the famous astronomer chang hêng was avowedly a disciple of indian teachers. the statement given by chang hêng is to the effect that 'how i, the fabled inventor of arrows in the days of yao and shun,[*] obtained the drug of immortality from si wang mu (the fairy 'royal mother' of the west); and chang ngo (his wife) having stolen it, fled to the moon, and became the frog--_chang-chu_--which is seen there.' the lady _chang-ngo_ is still pointed out among the shadows in the surface of the moon." [93] dr. wells williams also tells us that in china "the sun is symbolized by the figure of a raven in a circle, and the moon by a rabbit on his hind legs pounding rice in a mortar, or by a three-legged toad. the last refers to the legend of an ancient beauty, chang-ngo, who drank the liquor of immortality, and straightway ascended to the moon, where she was transformed into a toad, still to be traced in its face. it is a special object of worship in autumn, and moon cakes dedicated to it are sold at this season." [94] we have little doubt that what the chinese look for they see. we in the west characterize and colour objects which we behold, as we see them through the painted windows of our predisposition or prejudice. as a great novelist writes: "from the same object different conclusions are drawn; the most common externals of nature, the wind and the wave, the stars and the heavens, the very earth on which we tread, never excite in different bosoms the same ideas; and it is from our own hearts, and not from an outward source, that we draw the hues which colour the web of our existence. it is true, answered clarence. you remember that in two specks of the moon the enamoured maiden perceived two unfortunate lovers, while the ambitious curate conjectured that they were the spires of a cathedral." [95] besides, it must be confessed that the particular moon-patch that has awakened so much interest in every age and nation is quite as much like a frog or toad as it is like a rabbit or hare. [*] mr. herbert a. giles says that how i was a legendary chieftain, who "flourished about 2,500 b.c." _strange stories from a chinese studio_, london, 1880, i. 19, _note_. vi. other moon myths. it is almost time that we should leave this lunar zoology; we will therefore merely present a few creatures which may be of service in a comparative anatomy of the whole subject, and then close the account. there is a story told in the fiji islands which so nearly approaches the hottentot legend of the hare, that they both seem but variations of a common original. in the one case the opponent of the moon's benevolent purpose affecting man's hereafter was a hare, in the other a rat. the story thus runs: there was "a contest between two gods as to how man should die. ra vula (the moon) contended that man should be like himself--disappear awhile, and then live again. ra kalavo (the rat) would not listen to this kind proposal, but said, 'let man die as a rat dies.' and he prevailed." [96] mr. tylor, who quotes this rat story, adds: "the dates of the versions seem to show that the presence of these myths among the hottentots and fijians, at the two opposite sides of the globe, is at any rate not due to transmission in modern times." [97] from the rat to one of its mortal enemies is an easy transition. the australian story is that mityan, the moon, was a native cat, who fell in love with another's wife, and while trying to induce her to run away with him, was discovered by the husband, when a fight took place. mityan was beaten and ran away, and has been wandering ever since. [98] we are indebted for another suggestion to bishop wilkins, who wrote over two centuries ago: "as for the form of those spots, _albertus_ thinks that it represents a lion, with his tail towards the east, and his head the west; and some others have thought it to be very much like a fox, and certainly 'tis as much like a lion as that in the _zodiac_, or as _ursa major_ is like a bear." [99] this last remark of the old mathematician is "a hit, a very palpable hit," at those unpoetical people who catalogue the constellations under all sorts of living creatures' names, implying resemblances, and then "sap with solemn sneer" our myths of the moon. we have now seen that the moon is populated with men, women, and children,--hares and rabbits, toads and frogs, cats and dogs, and sundry small "cattle"; we observe in making our exit that it is also planted with a variety of trees; in short, is a zoological garden of a high order. even among the ancients some said the lunar spots were forests where diana hunted, and that the bright patches were plains. captain cook tells us that in the south pacific "the spots observed in the moon are supposed to be groves of a sort of trees which once grew in otaheite, and, being destroyed by some accident, their seeds were carried up thither by doves, where they now flourish." [100] ellis also tells of these tahitians that "their ideas of the moon, which they called _avae_ or _marama_, were as fabulous as those they entertained of the sun. some supposed the moon was the wife of the sun; others that it was a beautiful country in which the aoa grew." [101] these arborary fancies derive additional interest, if not a species of verisimilitude, from the record of a missionary that "a stately tree, clothed with dark shining leaves, and loaded with many hundreds of large green or yellowish-coloured fruit, is one of the most splendid and beautiful objects to be met with among the rich and diversified scenery of a tahitian landscape." our collection of lunar legends is now on exhibition. no thoughtful person will be likely to dispute the dictum of sir john lubbock that "traditions and myths are of great importance, and indirectly throw much light on the condition of man in ancient times." [102] but they serve far more purposes than this. they are the raw material, out of which many of our goodly garments of modern science and religion are made up. the illiterate negroes on the cotton plantation, and the rude hunters in the jungle or seal fishery, produce the staple, or procure the skins, which after long labour afford comfort and adornment to proud philosophers and peers. the golden cross on the saintly bosom and the glittering crown on the sovereign brow were embedded as rough ore in primeval rocks ages before their wearers were born to boast of them. we shall esteem our treasures none the less because their origin is known, as we love "the best of men" none the less because he was born of a woman. we closed our series of moon myths with a vision of a beautiful country, ornamented with groves of fruitful trees, whose seeds had been carried thither by white-winged doves; and carried thither because "some accident" had destroyed the trees in their native isles on earth. thus the lunar world had become a desirable scene of superior and surpassing loveliness. who can reflect upon this dream of human childhood, and not recall some dreams of later years? who can fail to discern slight touches of the same hand which we see displayed in other designs? "happily for historic truth," says mr. tylor, "mythic tradition tells its tales without expurgating the episodes which betray its real character to more critical observation." [103] who is not led on from tahiti to greece, and to the isles of the blessed, the elysium which abounds in every charm of life, and to the garden of the hesperides, with its apples of gold; thence to the meru of the hindoos, the sacred mountain which is perpetually clothed in the rays of the sun, and adorned with every variety of plants and trees; thence again to the heden of the persians, of matchless beauty, where ever flourishes the tree hom with its wonderful fruit; on to the chinese garden, near the gate of heaven, whose noblest spring is the fountain of life, and whose delightful trees bear fruits which preserve and prolong the existence of man? [104] thence an easy entrance is gained to the hebrew paradise, with its abounding trees "pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden"; and finally arises a sight of the "better land" of the christian poetess, the incorruptible and undefiled inheritance of the christian preacher, the prospect which is "ever vernal and blooming,--and, best of all, amid those trees of life there lurks no serpent to destroy,--the country, through whose vast region we shall traverse with untired footsteps, while every fresh revelation of beauty will augment our knowledge, and holiness, and joy." [105] who will travel on such a pilgrimage of enlarged thought, and not come to the conclusion that if one course of development has been followed by all scientific and spiritual truth, then "almost the whole of the mythology and theology of civilized nations maybe traced, without arrangement or co-ordination, and in forms that are undeveloped and original rather than degenerate, in the traditions and ideas of savages"? [106] such a conclusion may diminish our self-esteem, if we have supposed ourselves the sole depositaries of divine knowledge; but it will exalt our conception of the generosity of the father of all men, who never left a human soul without a witness of his invisible presence and ineffable love. moon worship. i. introduction. we have now to show that the moon has been in every age, and remains still, one of the principal objects of human worship. even among certain nations credited with pure monotheism, it will be manifested that there was the practice of that primitive polytheism which adored the hosts of heaven. and, however humiliating or disappointing the disclosure may prove, it will be established that some of the foremost christian peoples of the world maintain luniolatry to this day, notwithstanding that they have the reproving light of the latest civilization. we are so prone to talk of heathenism as abroad, that we forget or neglect the gross heathenism which abounds at home; and while we complacently speak of the march of the world's progress with which we identify ourselves, we are oblivious of the fact that much ancient falsehood survives and blends with the truth in which our superior minds, or minds with superior facilities, have been trained. how few of us reflect that the signs and symbols of rejected theories have passed into the nomenclature of received systems! nay, we plume ourselves upon the new translation or revision as if we were the favoured recipients of some fresh revelation. not only in the names of our days and months, but also in some of our most cherished dogmas, we are but the "liberal-conservatives" in religion, who retain the old, while we congratulate ourselves upon being the apostles of the new. that the past must always run into the present, and the present proceed from the past, we readily enough allow as a natural and necessary law; yet baptized heathenism is often heathenism still, under another name. again, we are sometimes so short-sighted that we deny to former periods the paternity of their own more fortunate offspring, and behave like prosperous children who ungratefully ignore their poorer parents, to whom they owe their breath and being. such treatment of history is to be emphatically deprecated, whether it arises from ignorance or ingratitude. we ought to know, if we do not, and we ought also to acknowledge, that our perfect day grew out of primeval darkness, and that the progress was a lingering dawn. this we hold to be the clearest view of the divine causation. our modern method in philosophy, largely owing to the _novum organum_ of bacon, is evolution, the _novum organum_ of the nineteenth century; and this process recognises no abrupt or interruptive creations, but gradual transformations from pre-existent types, "variations under domestication," and the passing away of the old by its absorption into the new. our religion, like our language, is a garden not only for indigenous vegetation, but also for acclimatisation, in which we improve under cultivation exotic plants whose roots are drawn from every soil on the earth. and, as paul preached in athens the god whom the greeks worshipped in ignorance, so our missionaries carry back to less enlightened peoples the fruit of that life-giving tree whose germs exist among themselves, undeveloped and often unknown. no religion has fallen from heaven, like the fabled image of athene, in full-grown beauty. all spiritual life is primordially an inspiration or intuition from the father of spirits, whose offspring all men are, and who is not far from every one of them. this intuition prompts men to "seek the lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him." thus prayer becomes an instinct; and to worship is as natural as to breathe. but man is a being with five senses, and as his contact with his fellow-creatures and with the whole creation is at one or other of those five points, he is necessarily sensuous. endowed with native intelligence, the _intellectus ipse_ of leibnitz, he nevertheless receives his impressions on _sensitive_ nerves, his emotions are _sentiments_, his words become _sentences_, and his stock of wisdom is his common _sense_. a few, very few, words express his sensations, a few more his perceptions, and so on; but he is conscious of _objects_ at first, he deals with _subjects_ afterwards. soon the sun, moon, and stars, as bright lights attract his eyes, as we have all seen an infant of a few days fix its gaze upon a candle or lamp. these heavenly orbs are found to be in motion, to be far away, to be the glory of day and night: what wonder if _ideas_ of these _images_ are formed in the religious mind, if the worshipper imagines the sun and moon to be reflections of the god of light, and pays homage to the creature which renders the creator visible? thus in the childhood of man religion grows, and with the multiplication of intellect and sensation, endless diversity of language, conception and faith is the result. another result, of course, is the endless diversity of deities. every race, every nation, every tribe, every household, every heart, has had its own god. and yet, with all this multiplicity in religious literature and dogma, subject and object, a unity co-exists which the student of the science notes with profound interest. all nations of men are of one blood; and all forms of god embody the one eternal spirit. to this unity mythology tends. as one writer says: "we must ever bear in mind that the course of mythology is from many gods toward one, that it is a synthesis, not an analysis, and that in this process the tendency is to blend in one the traits and stories of originally separate divinities." [107] the ancient hebrew worshipped god as "the eternal, our righteousness"; the greek worshipped him as wisdom and beauty; the roman as power and government; the persian as light and goodness; and so forth. few hymns have surpassed the beauty of pope's _universal prayer_. it is the _te deum laudamus_ of that catholic church which embraces god-loved humanity. "father of all! in every age, in every clime, adored, by saint, by savage, and by sage, jehovah, jove, or lord!" the christian, believing his to be the "one religion," as a recent bampton lecturer termed it, too often forgets that his system is a recomposition of rays of a religious light which was decomposed in the prismatic minds of earlier men. and further, with a change of metaphor, if christianity has flourished and fructified through eighteen centuries, it must not be denied that it is a graft upon an old stock which through fifteen previous centuries had borne abundant fruit. the same course must be adopted still. we find men everywhere holding some truth; we add further truth; until, as a chemist would say, we saturate the solution, which upon evaporation produces a crystallized life of entirely new colour and quality and form. thus professor nilsson writes: "every religious _change_ in a people is, in fact, only an intermixture of religions; because the new religion, whether received by means of convincing arguments, or enforced by the eloquence of fire and sword, cannot _at once_ tear up all the wide-spreading roots by which its forerunner has grown in the heart of the people; this must be the work of many years, perhaps of many generations." [108] we cannot better close this lengthy introduction than by reminding christians of the saying of their great and good teacher, "i am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." ii. the moon mostly a male deity. we have already in part pointed out that the moon has been considered as of the masculine gender; and have therefore but to travel a little farther afield to show that in the aryan of india, in egyptian, arabian, slavonian, latin, lithuanian, gothic, teutonic, swedish, anglo-saxon, and south american, the moon is a male god. to do this, in addition to former quotations, it will be sufficient to adduce a few authorities. "moon," says max müller, "is a very old word. it was _móna_ in anglo-saxon, and was used there, not as a feminine, but as a masculine for the moon was originally a masculine, and the sun a feminine, in all teutonic languages; and it is only through the influence of classical models that in english moon has been changed into a feminine, and sun into a masculine. it was a most unlucky assertion which mr. harris made in his _hermes_, that all nations ascribe to the sun a masculine, and to the moon a feminine gender." [109] grimm says, "down to recent times, our people were fond of calling the sun and moon _frau sonne_ and _herr mond_." [110] sir gardner wilkinson writes: "another reason that the moon in the egyptian mythology could not be related to bubastis is, that it was a male and not a female deity, personified in the god thoth. this was also the case in some religions of the west. the romans recognised the god lunus; and the germans, like the arabs, to this day, consider the moon masculine, and not feminine, as were the selênê and luna of the greeks and latins." [111] again, "the egyptians represented their moon as a male deity, like the german _mond_ and _monat_, or the _lunus_ of the latins; and it is worthy of remark, that the same custom of calling it male is retained in the east to the present day, while the sun is considered female, as in the language of the germans." [112] "in slavonic," sir george cox tells us, "as in the teutonic mythology, the moon is male. his wedding with the sun brings on him the wrath of perkunas [the thunder-god], as the song tells us 'the moon wedded the sun in the first spring. the sun rose early the moon departed from her. the moon wandered alone; courted the morning star. perkunas, greatly wroth, cleft him with a sword. 'wherefore dost thou depart from the sun, wandering by night alone, courting the morning star?'" [113] "in a servian song a girl cries to the sun- 'o brilliant sun! i am fairer than thou than thy brother, the bright moon.'" in south slavonian poetry the sun often figures as a radiant youth. but among the northern slavonians, as well as the lithuanians, the sun was regarded as a female being, the bride of the moon. 'thou askest me of what race, of what family i am,' says the fair maiden of a song preserved in the tambof government- 'my mother is--the beauteous sun, and my father--the bright moon.'" [114] "among the mbocobis of south america the moon is a man and the sun his wife." [115] the ahts of north america take the same view; and we know that in sanskrit and in hebrew the word for moon is masculine. this may seem to many a matter of no importance; but if mythology throws much light upon ancient history and religion, its importance may be considerable, especially as it lies at the root of that sexuality which has been the most prolific parent of both good and evil in human life. the sexual relation has existed from the very birth of animated nature; and it is remarkable that a man of learning and piety in germany has made the strange if not absurd statement that in the beginning "adam was externally sexless." [116] another idea, more excusable, but equally preposterous, is, that grammatical gender has been the cause of the male and female personation of deities, when really it has been the result. the cause, no doubt, was inherent in man's constitution; and was the inevitable effect of thought and expression. the same necessity of natural language which led the hebrew prophets to speak of their land as married, of their nation as a wife in prosperity and a widow in calamity, of their maker as their husband, who rejoices over them as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride: [117] this same necessity, becoming a habit like that of our own country folks in hampshire, of whom cobbett speaks, who call almost everything _he_ or _she_; led the sensuous and imaginative ancients, as it leads simple and poetical peoples still, to call the moon a man and to worship him as a god. objects of fear and reverence would be usually masculines; and objects of love and desire feminines. we may thus find light thrown upon the honours paid to such goddesses as astarte and aphrodite: which will also help us to understand the deification by a celibate priesthood of the virgin mary. we may, moreover, account partly for the fact that to the sailor his ship is always she; to the swain the flowers which resemble his idol, as the lily and the rose, are always feminine, and used as female names; while to the patriot the mother country is nearly always of the tender sex. [118] prof. max müller thinks that the distinction between males and females began, "not with the introduction of masculine nouns, but with the introduction of feminines, _i.e._ with the setting apart of certain derivative suffixes for females. by this all other words became masculine." [119] thus the sexual emotions of men created that grammatical gender which has contributed so powerfully to our later mythology, and has therefore been mistaken for the author of our male and female personations. what beside sexuality suggested the thought of the chevalier marini? "he introduces the god _pan_, who boasts that the spots which are seen in the moon are impressions of the kisses he gave it." [120] that grammar is very much younger than sexual relations is proven by the curious fact mentioned by max müller that _pater_ is not a masculine, nor _mater_ a feminine. gender, we must not forget, is from _genus_, a kind or class; and that the classification in various languages has been arranged on no fixed plan. we in our modern english, with much still to do, have improved in this respect, since, in anglo-saxon, _wif_ = wife, was neuter, and _wif-mann_ = woman, was masculine. in german still _die frau_, the woman, is feminine; but _das weib_, the wife, is neuter. [121] dr. farrar finds the root of gender in the imagination: which we admit if associated with sex. otherwise, we cannot understand how an _unfelt_ distinction of this sort could be mentally _seen_. but dr. farrar means more than imagination, for he says, "from this source is derived the whole system of genders for inanimate things, which was perhaps inevitable at that early childish stage of the human intelligence, when the actively working soul attributed to everything around it some portion of its own life. hence, well-nigh everything is spoken of as masculine or feminine." [122] we are surprised that dr. farrar seems to think german an exception, in making a masculine noun of the moon. he has failed to apply to this point his usual learned and laborious investigation. [123] diogenes laertius describes the theology of the jews as an offshoot from that of the chaldees, and says that the former affirm of the latter "that they condemn images, and especially those persons who say that the gods are male and female." [124] which condemnation implies the prevalence of this sexual distinction between their deities. in concluding this chapter we think that it will be granted that gender in the personification of inanimate objects was the result of sex in the animate subject: that primitive men saw the moon as a most conspicuous object, whose spots at periods had the semblance of a man's face, whose waxing and waning increased their wonder: whose coming and going amid the still and solemn night added to the mystery: until from being viewed as a man, it was feared, especially when apparently angry in a mist or an eclipse, and so reverenced and worshipped as the heaven-man, the monthly god. iii. the moon a world-wide deity. anthropomorphism, or the representation of outward objects in the _form_ of _man_, wrought largely, as we have seen, in the manufacture of the man in the moon; it entered no less into the composition of the moon-god. the twenty-first verse of the fiftieth psalm contains its recognition and rebuke. "thou thoughtest that i was altogether as thyself"; or, still more literally, "thou hast thought that being, i shall be like thee." as dr. delitzsch says, "because man in god's likeness has a bodily form, some have presumed to infer backwards therefrom that god also has a bodily form like to man, which is related by way of prototype to the human form." [125] as well might we say that because a watchmaker constructs a chronometer with a movement somewhat like that of his own heart, therefore he is mechanical, metallic, and round. against this anthropomorphic materialism science lifts up its voice; for what modern philosopher, worthy of the name, fails to distinguish between phenomenon and fact, inert matter and active force? says a recent writer, "we infer that as our own master of the mint is neither a sovereign nor a half-sovereign, so the force which coins and recoins this ulh, or matter, must be altogether in the god-part and none of it in the metal or paste in which it works." [126] with the progress of man's intelligence we shall observe improvement in this anthropomorphism, but it will still survive. as mr. baring-gould tells us: "the savage invests god with bodily attributes; in a more civilized state man withdraws the bodily attributes, but imposes the limitations of his own mental nature; and in his philosophic elevation he recognises in god intelligence only, though still with anthropomorphic conditions." [127] xenophanes said that if horses, oxen, and lions could paint, they would make gods like themselves. and ralph waldo emerson says: "the gods of fable are the shining moments of great men. we run all our vessels into one mould. our colossal theologies of judaism, christism, buddhism, mahometism, are the necessary and structural action of the human mind. the student of history is like a man going into a warehouse to buy clothes or carpets. he fancies he has a new article. if he go to the factory, he shall find that his new stuff still repeats the scrolls and rosettes which are found on the interior walls of the pyramids of thebes. our theism is the purification of the human mind. man can paint, or make, or think nothing but man. he believes that the great material elements had their origin from his thought. and our philosophy finds one essence collected or distributed." [128] and a devout author, whose orthodoxy --whatever that may mean--is unquestioned, acknowledges that man adored the unknown power in the sun, and "in the moon, which bathes the night with its serene splendours. under this latter form, completed by a very simple anthropomorphism which applies to the gods the law of the sexes, the religions of nature weighed during long ages upon western asia." [129] a volume might be written upon this subject; but we have other work in hand. it seems to be generally admitted that no form of idolatry is older than the worship of the moon. lord kames says, "it is probable that the sun and moon were early held to be deities, and that they were the first visible objects of worship." [130] dr. inman says, "that the sun and moon were at a very early period worshipped, none who has studied antiquity can deny." [131] and goldziher maintains that "the lunar worship is older than the solar." [132] maimonides, "the light of israel," says that the zabaists not only worshipped the moon themselves, but they also asserted that adam led mankind to that species of worship. no doubt luniolatry is as old as the human race. in some parts the moon is still the superior god. mr. tylor writes: "moon worship, naturally ranking below sun worship in importance, ranges through nearly the same district of culture. there are remarkable cases in which the moon is recognised as a great deity by tribes who take less account, or none at all, of the sun. an old account of the caribs describes them as esteeming the moon more than the sun, and at new moon coming out of their houses crying, behold the moon!" [133] this deity, then, is ancient and modern: also a chief of the gods: let us now show that he is a god whose empire is the world. we begin in asia, and with the assyrian monuments, which display many religious types and emblems. "representations of the heavenly bodies, as sacred symbols, are of constant occurrence in the most ancient sculptures. in the bas-reliefs we find figures of the sun, moon, and stars, suspended round the neck of the king when engaged in the performance of religious ceremonies." [134] in chaldaea "the moon was named sin and hur. hurki, hur, and ur was the chief place of his worship, for the satellite was then considered as being masculine. the name for the moon in armenian was _khaldi_, which has been considered by some to be the origin of the word chaldee, as signifying moon worshippers." [135] with this chaldaean deity may be connected "the akkadian moon god, who corresponds with the semitic sin," and who "is aku, 'the seated-father,' as chief supporter of kosmic order, styled 'the maker of brightness,' en-zuna, 'the lord of growth,' and idu, 'the measuring lord,' the aïdês of hesychios." [136] "with respect to the name of chaldaean, perhaps the most probable account of the origin of the word is, that it designates properly the inhabitants of the ancient capital, ur or hur,--_kkaldi_ being in the burbur dialect the exact equivalent of _hur_, which was the proper name of the moon god, and chaldaeans being thus either 'moon worshippers,' or simply, inhabitants of the town dedicated to, and called after, the moon." [137] again: "the first god of the second triad is sin or hurki, the moon deity. it is in condescension to greek notions that berosus inverts the true chaldaean order, and places the sun before the moon in his enumeration of the heavenly bodies. chaldaean mythology gives a very decided preference to the lesser luminary, perhaps because the nights are more pleasant than the clays in hot countries. with respect to the names of the god, we may observe that sin, the assyrian or semitic term, is a word of quite uncertain etymology, which, however, is found applied to the moon in many semitic languages." [138] "_sin_ is used for the moon in mendaean and syriac at the present day. it is the name given to the moon god in st. james of seruj's list of the idols of harran; and it was the term used for monday by the sabaeans as late as the ninth century." [139] another author writes: "the babylonian and assyrian moon god is sin, whose name probably appears in sinai. the expression, 'from the origin of the god sin,' was used by the assyrians to mark remote antiquity; because, as chaos preceded order, so night preceded day, and the enthronement of the moon as the night-king marks the commencement of the annals of kosmic order." [140] when we search the hebrew scriptures, we find too many allusions to the queen of heaven, to astarte and the groves, for us to doubt that the israelites adored "--moonèd ashtaroth, heaven's queen and mother both." (milton's _odes_.) dr. goldziher is an incontestable authority, and thus writes: "queen or princess of heaven is a very frequent name for the moon." [141] again, "even in the latest times the hebrews called the moon the 'queen of heaven' (jer. vii. 18), and paid her divine honours in this character at the time of the captivity." [142] and, to complete this author's witness, he again says: "what was the antiquity of this lunar worship among the hebrews, is testified (as has long been known) by the part played by mount sinai in the history of hebrew religion. for this geographical name is doubtless related to _sin_, one of the semitic names of the moon. the mountain must in ancient times have been consecrated to the moon. the beginning of the hebrew religion, which was connected with the phenomena of the night-sky, germinated first during the residence in egypt on the foundation of an ancient myth. the recollection of this occasioned them to call the part of egypt which they had long inhabited, eres sînîm, 'moonland' (isa. xlix. 12)." [143] it is but just that we should hear the other side, when there is a difference of opinion. the above mentioned 'queen of heaven' is beyond question the ashtoreth or astarte (identical with our _star_), which was the principal goddess of the phoenicians; and we believe she was originally the goddess of the moon. this is doubted by a modern writer, who says, "baal is constantly coupled with astarte; and the more philosophical opinion is that this national god and goddess were the lord and lady of phoenicia, rather than the sun and moon: for to a people full of political life the sun and moon would have been themselves representatives, while a divine king and queen were the realities. and if so, the habitual inclination of the israelites, an essentially political people, for this worship becomes the more easily understood." [144] professor f. d. maurice, in his _moral and metaphysical philosophy_, also takes this view. the question here is not whether the jews worshipped astarte, but whether astarte was the moon. this we cannot hesitate to answer in the affirmative. kenrick writes: "ashtoreth or astarte appears physically to represent the moon. she was the chief local deity of sidon; but her worship must have been extensively diffused, not only in palestine, but in the countries east of the jordan, as we find ashtaroth-karnaim (ashtaroth of two horns) mentioned in the book of genesis (xiv. 5). this goddess, like other lunar deities, appears to have been symbolized by a heifer, or a figure with a heifer's head, whose horns resembled the crescent moon. the children of israel renounced her worship at the persuasion of samuel; and we do not read again of her idolatry till the reign of solomon (1 kings xi. 5), after which it appears never to have been permanently banished, though put down for a time by josiah (2 kings xxiii. 13). she is the queen of heaven, to whom, according to the reproaches of jeremiah (vii. 18, xliv. 25), the women of israel poured out their drink-offerings, and burnt incense, and offered cakes, regarding her as the author of their national prosperity. this epithet accords well with the supposition that she represented the moon, as some ancient authors inform us." [145] dr. gotch, an eminent hebrew scholar, says that there is no doubt that the moon is the symbol of productive power and must be identified with astarte. "that this goddess was so typified can scarcely be doubted. the ancient name of the city, ashtaroth-karnaim, already referred to, seems to indicate a horned astarte, that is an image with a crescent moon on her head like the egyptian athor. at any rate, it is certain that she was by some ancient writers identified with the moon, as lucian and herodian. on these grounds movers, winer, keil, and others maintain that originally ashtoreth was the moon goddess." [146] clearly, then, the hebrews worshipped the moon. but, even apart from astarte, this worship may be proven on other evidence. dr. jamieson says that the word _mena_ (moon: anglo-saxon, _mona_) "approaches most nearly to a word used by the prophet isaiah, which has been understood by the most learned interpreters as denoting the moon. 'ye are they that prepare a table for _gad_, and that furnish the offering unto _meni_.' (isa. lxv. 11). as _gad_ is understood of the _sun_, we learn from diodor sicul that _meni_ is to be viewed as a designation of the _moon_." [147] this is bishop lowth's view. "the disquisitions and conjectures of the learned concerning gad and meni are infinite and uncertain: perhaps the most probable may be, that gad means good fortune, and meni the moon." [148] one point is worthy of notice. in our english version _meni_ is rendered "number"; and we know very well that by the courses of the moon ancient months and years were numbered. in isaiah iii. 18 we find the daughters of zion ornamented with feet-rings, and networks, and _crescents_: or, as our translation reads, "round tires like the moon." and, once more, in ezekiel xlvi., we read that the gate of the inner court of the sanctuary that "looketh toward the east, shall be opened on the day of the new moon"; and the meat offering on "the day of the new moon shall be a young bullock without blemish, and six lambs, and a ram." if there was no sacred significance in the observance of these lunar changes, why did the writer of the new testament epistle to the colossians say, "let no man judge you in respect of the new moon"? a competent scholar, in recognising this consociation of hebrew religion with the moon's phases, rightly ascribes to it an earlier origin. says ewald: "to connect the annual festivals with the full moon, and to commence them in the evening, as though greeting her with a glad shout, was certainly a primitive custom, both among other races and in the circle of nations from which in the earliest times israel sprang." [149] and the bishop of derry remarks: "to a religious hebrew it was rather the moon than the sun which marked the seasons, as the calendar of the church was regulated by it." [150] we have sought to place this hebrew luniolatry beyond dispute, because so many christians have supposed that "the chosen people" lived in unclouded light, and "the uncovenanted heathen" in outer and utter darkness. passing on we find that "in pontus and phrygia were temples to _meen_, and homer says _meen_ presides over the months, whilst in the sanskrit _mina_, we see her connected with the fish and virgin. it is not improbable that the great akaimenian race, as worshipping and upholding sun and moon faiths, were called after _meni_, the moon." [151] among the arabians the moon was the great divinity, as may be learned from pocock's _specimen historiae arabum_; prideaux's _connection_; gibbon's _decline and fall of the roman empire_; and sale's _preliminary discourse_ to his translation of the _koran_. tiele says: "the ancient religion of the arabs rises little higher than animistic polydaemonism. the names itah and shamsh, the sun god, occur among all the semitic peoples; allât, or alilât, and al-uzza, as well as the triad of moon goddesses to which these last belong, are common to several, and the deities which bear them are reckoned among the chief." [152] the saracens called the moon _cabar_, the great; and its crescent is the religious symbol of the turks to this day. tradition says that "philip, the father of alexander, meeting with great difficulties in the siege of byzantium, set the workmen to undermine the walls, but a crescent moon discovered the design, which miscarried; consequently the byzantines erected a statue to diana, and the crescent became the symbol of the state." dr. brewer, who cites this story, adds: "another legend is that othman, the sultan, saw in a vision a crescent moon, which kept increasing till its horns extended from east to west, and he adopted the crescent of his dream for his standard, adding the motto, _donec repleat orbem_." [153] schlegel mentions the story that mahomet "wished to pass with his disciples as a person transfigured in a supernatural light, and that the credulity of his followers saw the moon, or the moon's light, descend upon him, pierce his garments, and replenish him. that veneration for the moon which still forms a national or rather religious characteristic of the mahometans, may perhaps have its foundation in the elder superstition, or pagan idolatry of the arabs." [154] no doubt this last sentence contains the true elucidation of the crescent. for astrolatry lives in the east still. the _koran_ may expressly forbid the practice, saying: "bend not in adoration to the sun or moon"; [155] yet, "monotheist as he is, the moslem still claps his hands at sight of the new moon, and says a prayer." [156] we come next to the persians, whom herodotus accuses of adoring the sun and moon. but, as gibbon says, "the persians of every age have denied the charge, and explained the equivocal conduct, which might appear to give colour to it." [157] it will certainly require considerable explanation to free from lunar idolatry the following passage, which we find in the _zend avesta_: "we sacrifice unto the new moon, the holy and master of holiness: we sacrifice unto the full moon, the holy and master of holiness." [158] unquestionably the persian recognised the lord of light _in_ the ordinances of heaven; and therefore his was superior to many forms of blind idol-worship. so far we may accept hegel's interpretation of the _zend_ doctrine. "light is the _body of ormuzd_; thence the worship of fire, because ormuzd is present in all light; but he is not the sun or moon itself in these the persians venerate only the light, which is ormuzd." [159] in fact, we owe to the persians a valuable testimony to the god in whom is no darkness at all. "the prayer of ajax was for light"; and we too little feel the fire which burns and shines beyond the stars. in central india the sun and moon are worshipped by many tribes, as the khonds, korkús, tunguses, and buraets. the korkús adore the powers of nature, as the gods of the tiger, bison, the hill, the cholera, etc., "but these are all secondary to the sun and the moon, which among this branch of the kolarian stock, as among the kols in the far east, are the principal objects of adoration." [160a] "although the tongusy in general worship the sun and moon, there are many exceptions to this observation. i have found intelligent people among them, who believed that there was a being superior to both sun and moon; and who created them and all the world." [160b] this last sentence we read with gratitude, but not with surprise. there is some good in all, if there seem to be all good in some. "the aboriginal tribes in the dekkan of india also acknowledge the presence of the sun and moon by an act of reverence." [161] the inhabitants of the island of celebes, in the east indian archipelago, "formerly acknowledged no gods but the sun and the moon, which were held to be eternal. ambition for superiority made them fall out." [162] according to milton, ambition created unpleasantness in the hebrew heaven. in northern asia the moon had adoring admirers among the samoyedes, the morduans, the tschuwasches, and other tribes. this is stated by sir john lubbock. [163] lord kames says: "the people of borneo worship the sun and moon as real divinities. the samoides worship both, bowing to them morning and evening in the persian manner." [164] the _samoides_ are the "salmon-eaters" of asia. moon-worship in china is of ancient origin, and exists in our own time. professor legge tells us that the primitive _shih_ "is the symbol for manifestation and revelation. the upper part of it is the same as that in the older form of tî, indicating 'what is above'; but of the three lines below i have not found a satisfactory account. hsü shan says they represent 'the sun, moon, and stars,' and that the whole symbolizes 'the indications by these bodies of the will of heaven! shih therefore tells us that the chinese fathers believed that there was communication between heaven and men. the idea of revelation did not shock them. the special interpretation of the strokes below, however, if it were established, would lead us to think that even then, so far back, there was the commencement of astrological superstition, and also, perhaps, of sabian worship." [165] sabianism, as most readers are aware, is the adoration of the armies of heaven: the word being derived from the hebrew _tzaba_, a host. dr. legge leaves chinese sabianism in some doubt, in the above quotation; but later on he speaks of the spirits associated with the solstitial worship, whose intercession was thus secured, "i, the emperor of the great illustrious dynasty, have respectfully prepared this paper, to inform the spirit of the sun, the spirit of the moon, the spirits of the five planets, of the constellations of the zodiac, and of all the stars in all the sky," and so on: and the professor adds: "this paper shows how there had grown up around the primitive monotheism of china the recognition and worship of a multitude of celestial and terrestrial spirits." [166] this is ample evidence to prove moon-worship. true, these celestial beings were "but ministering spirits," and the "monotheism remained." there was no _henotheism_, no worship of several _single_ supreme deities: _one only_ was supreme. so among the hebrews, persians, hindoos, there was one only god; and yet they offered prayers and sacrifices to heaven's visible and innumerable host. when we come to modern china we shall find some very remarkable celebrations taking place, which throw sunlight upon these ancient mists. meanwhile to strengthen our position, we may draw additional support from each of the three great stages reached in the progress of chinese religion: namely, confucianism, taoism, and buddhism. dr. edkins describes them as the moral, materialistic, and metaphysical systems, standing at the three corners of a great triangle. [167] the god of confucianism is _shang-tî_ or _shang-te_. and with the universal anthropomorphism "shang-te is the great father of gods and men: shang-te is a gigantic man." [168] again "heaven is a great man, and man is a little heaven." [169] and now what does confucianism say of moon-worship? "the sun and moon being the chief objects of veneration to the most ancient ancestors of the chinese, they translated the soul of their great father heaven or the first man (shang-te) to the sun, and the soul of their great mother earth or the first woman (the female half of the first man) to the moon." [170] in taoism there is no room for question. dr. legge says that it had its chang and liû, and "many more gods, supreme gods, celestial gods, great gods, and divine rulers." [171] and dr. edkins writes: "the taouist mythology resembles, in several points, that of many heathen nations. some of its divinities personate those beings that are supposed to reside in the various departments of nature. many of the stars are worshipped as gods." [172] buddhism not only supplies further evidence, it also furnishes a noteworthy instance of mythic transformation. sakchi or sasi, the moon, is literally one who made a sacrifice. this refers to the legend of the hare who gave himself to feed the god. the wife of indra adopted the hare's name, and was herself called sasi. "the tantra school gave every deity its sakti or consort, and speculation enlarged the meaning of the term still further, making it designate female energy or the female principle." [173] buddhism, then, the popular religion in china at the present day, the religion which dr. farrar ventures to call "atheism fast merging into idolatry," [174] is not free from the nature worship which deifies the moon. but buddhism, like most other imperfect systems, has precious gold mixed with its dross; and at the expense of a digression we delight to quote the statement of a recent writer, who says: "there is no record, known to me, in the whole of the long history of buddhism, throughout the many countries where its followers have been for such lengthened periods supreme, of any persecution by the buddhists of the followers of any other faith." [175] how glad we should feel if we could assert the same of the christian church! we come at once to those celebrations which still take place in china, and illustrate the worship of the moon. the festival of _yue-ping_--which is held annually during the eighth month, from the first day when the moon is new, to the fifteenth, when it is full--is of high antiquity and of deep interest. dr. morrison says that "the custom of civil and military officers going on the first and fifteenth of every moon to the civil and military temples to burn incense, began in the time of the luh chaon," which would be not far from a.d. 550. also that the "eighth month, fifteenth day, is called chung-tsew-tsëë. it is said that the emperor ming-hwang, of the dynasty tang, was one night led to the palace of the moon, where he saw a large assembly of chang-go-sëën-neu--female divinities playing on instruments of music. persons now, from the first to the fifteenth, make cakes like the moon, of various sizes, and paint figures upon them: these are called yue-ping, 'mooncakes.' friends and relations pay visits, purchase and present the cakes to each other, and give entertainments. at full moon they spread out oblations and make prostrations to the moon." [176] dennys writes: "the fifteenth day of the eighth month is a day on which a ceremony is performed by the chinese, which of all others we should least expect to find imitated among ourselves. most people resident in china have seen the moon-cakes which so delight the heart of the chinese during the eighth month of every year. these are made for an autumnal festival often described as 'congratulating' or 'rewarding' the moon. the moon, it is well known, represents the female principle in chinese celestial cosmogony, and she is further supposed to be inhabited by a multitude of beautiful females; the cakes made in her honour are therefore veritable offerings to the queen of the heavens. now in a part of lancashire, on the banks of the ribble, there exists a precisely similar custom of making cakes in honour of the 'queen of heaven,'--a relic, in all probability, of the old heathen worship which was the common fount of the two customs." [177] witness is also borne to this ceremony by a well-known traveller. "we arrived at chaborté on the fifteenth day of the eighth moon, the anniversary of great rejoicings among the chinese. this festival, known as the _yue-ping_ (loaves of the moon), dates from the remotest antiquity. its original purpose was to honour the moon with superstitious rites. on this solemn day, all labour is suspended; the workmen receive from their employers a present of money, every person puts on his best clothes; and there is merry-making in every family. relations and friends interchange cakes of various sizes, on which is stamped the image of the moon; that is to say, a hare crouching amid a small group of trees." [178] and doolittle says: "it is always full moon on the fifteenth of every chinese month; and, therefore, for several days previous, the evenings are bright, unless it happens to be cloudy, which is not often the case. the moon is a prominent object of attention and congratulation at this time. at canton, it is said, offerings are made to the moon on the fifteenth. on the following day, young people amuse themselves by playing what is called _'pursuing_,' or '_congratulating_' the moon. at this city [fuhchau], in the observance of this festival, the expression '_rewarding the moon_' is more frequently used than 'congratulating the moon.' it is a common saying that there is 'a white rabbit in the moon pounding out rice.' the dark and the white spots on the moon's face suggest the idea of that animal engaged in the useful employment of shelling rice. the notion is prevalent that the moon is inhabited by a multitude of beautiful females, who are called by the name of an ancient beauty who once visited that planet; but how they live, and what they do, is not a matter of knowledge or of common fame. to the question, 'is the moon inhabited?' discussed by some western philosophers, the chinese would answer in the affirmative. several species of trees and flowers are supposed to flourish in the moon. some say that, one night in ancient times, one of the three souls of the originator of theatrical plays rambled away to the moon and paid a visit to the lunar palace. he found it filled with lunarians engaged in theatrical performances. he is said to have remembered the manner of conducting fashionable theatres in the moon, and to have imitated them after his return to this earth. about the time of the festival of the middle of autumn, the bake shops provide an immense amount and variety of cakes: many of them are circular, in imitation of the shape of the moon at that time, and are from six to twelve inches in diameter. some are in the form of a pagoda, or of a horse and rider, or of a fish, or other animals which please and cause the cake to be readily sold. some of these 'moon-cakes' have a white rabbit, engaged with his pounder, painted on one side, together with a lunar beauty, and some trees or shrubs; on others are painted gods or goddesses, animals, flowers, or persons, according to fancy." [179] if we turn now to jeremiah vii. 18, and read there, "the women knead dough, to make cakes to the queen of heaven, and to pour out drink offerings unto other gods," and remember that, according to rashi, these cakes of the hebrews had the image of the god or goddess stamped upon them, we are in view of a fact of much interest. we are so unaccustomed to think that our peasants in lancashire can have anything in common with the chinese five thousand miles away, and with the jews of two thousand five hundred years ago, that to many these moon-cakes will give a genuine surprise. but this is not all. other analogies appear between buddhist and christian rites, such as those mentioned by dr. medhurst. "the very titles of their intercessors, such as 'goddess of mercy,' 'holy mother,' 'queen of heaven,' with the image of a virgin, having a child in her arms, holding a cross, are all such striking coincidences, that the catholic missionaries were greatly stumbled at the resemblance between the chinese worship and their own, when they came over to convert the natives to christianity." [180] it is for the philosophical historian to show, if possible, whether these chinese ceremonies are copies of christian or hebrew originals; or whether, many of our own western forms with others of oriental character, are not transcripts of primitive faiths now well-nigh forgotten in both east and west. the hot cross buns of good friday, at first sight, have little relevancy to moon worship, and those who eat them suppose they were originated to commemorate the christian sacrifice; but we know that the cross was a sacred symbol with the earliest egyptians, for it is carved upon their imperishable records; we know too that _bun_ itself is ancient greek, and that winckelmann relates the discovery at herculaneum of two perfect buns, each marked with a cross: while the _boun_ described by hesychius was a cake with a representation of _two horns_. incredible as it may seem to some, the cross bun in its origin had nothing to do with an event with which it is in england identified; it probably commemorates the worship of the moon. in passing from china, we may also note the influence of that sexuality of which we have spoken before. dr. medhurst remarks: "the principle of the chinese cosmogony seems to be founded on a sexual system of the universe." [181] dr. prichard tells us that among the japanese "sacred festivals are held at certain seasons of the year and at changes of the moon." also, "it appears that _sin-too_, or original japanese religion, is merely a form of the worship of material objects, common to all the nations of northern asia, which, among the more civilized tribes, assumes the aspect of mythology." [182] from asia we come to africa, and to egypt, that wonderful land with a lithographed history at least five thousand years old; a land that basked in the sunshine of civilization and culture when nearly the whole world without was in shadow and gloom. the mighty pyramid of gizeh still stands, a monument of former national greatness, and a marvel to the admirer of sublimity in design and perfection in execution. "the setting of the sides to the cardinal points is so exact as to prove that the egyptians were excellent observers of the elementary facts of astronomy." [183] but they went farther. diodorus says: "the first generation of men in egypt, contemplating the beauty of the superior world, and admiring with astonishment the frame and order of the universe, judged that there were two chief gods that were eternal, that is to say, the sun and the moon, the first of which they called _osiris_, and the other _isis_." [184] this passage is proof that the greeks and romans had a very limited acquaintance with egyptian mythology; for the historian was indubitably in error in supposing osiris and isis to be sun and moon. but he was right in calling the sun and moon the first gods of the egyptians. rawlinson says: "the egyptians had two moon-gods, khons or khonsu, and tet or thoth." [185] dr. birch has translated an inscription relating to thoth, which reads: "all eyes are open on thee, and all men worship thee as a god." [186] and m. renouf says: "the egyptian god tehuti is known to the readers of plato under the name of thoyth. he represents the moon, which he wears upon his head, either as crescent or as full disk." [187] the same learned egyptologist tells us that khonsu or chonsu was one of the triad of theban gods, and was the moon one of his attributes being the reckoner of time. [188] of the former divinity, rawlinson relates an instructive myth. "according to one legend thoth once wrote a wonderful book, full of wisdom and science, containing in it everything relating to the fowls of the air, the fishes of the sea, and the four-footed beasts of the mountains. the man who knew a single page of the work could charm the heaven, the earth, the great abyss, the mountains and the seas. this marvellous composition he inclosed in a box of gold, which he placed within a box of silver; the box of silver within a box of ivory and ebony, and that again within a box of bronze; the box of bronze within a box of brass; and the box of brass within a box of iron; and the book, thus guarded, he threw into the nile at coptos. the fact became known, and the book was searched for and found. it gave its possessor vast knowledge and magical power, but it always brought on him misfortune. what became of it ultimately does not appear in the manuscript from which this account is taken; but the moral of the story seems to be the common one, that unlawful knowledge is punished by all kinds of calamity." [189] there is also a story of the moon-god chonsu, which is worthy of repetition. its original is in the _bibliothèque nationale_ at paris, and for its first translation we are indebted to dr. birch, of the british museum. [190] a certain asiatic princess of bechten, wherever that was, was possessed by a spirit. being connected, through her sister's marriage, with the court of egypt, on her falling ill, an egyptian practitioner was summoned to her aid. he declared that she had a demon, with which he himself was unable to cope. thereupon the image of the moon-god chonsu was despatched in his mystic ark, for the purpose of exorcising the spirit and delivering the princess. the demon at once yielded to the divine influence; and the king of bechten was so delighted that he kept the image in his possession for upwards of three years. in consequence of an alarming dream he then sent him back to egypt with presents of great value. whatever evil powers the moon may have exerted since, we must credit him with having once ejected an evil spirit and prolonged a royal life. returning to thoth, we find the following valuable hints in the great work of baron bunsen:--"the connection between tet and the moon may allude, according to wilkinson, to the primitive use of a lunar year. the ancients had already remarked that the moon in egyptian was masculine, not feminine, as the greeks and romans generally made it. still we have no right to suppose a particular moon-god, separate from thoth. we meet with a deity called after the moon (aah) either as a mere personification, or as thoth, in whom the agency of the moon and nature become a living principle. we find him so represented in the tombs of the ramesseum, opposite to phre; a similar representation in dendyra is probably symbolical. according to champollion he is often seen in the train of ammon, and then he is thoth. he makes him green, with the four sceptres and cup of ptah, by the side of which, however, is a sort of horus curl, the infantine lock, as child or son. in the inscriptions there is usually only the crescent, but on one occasion the sign _nuter_ (god) is added. in the tombs a moon-god is represented sitting on a bark, and holding the sceptre of benign power, to whom two cynocephali are doing homage, followed by the crescent and nuter god. lastly, the same god is found in a standing posture, worshipped by two souls and two cynocephali." [191] with these "dog-headed" worshippers of the moon may be associated another animal that from an early date has been connected with the luminaries of the day and night. we saw that the australian moon-myth of mityan was of a native cat. renouf says: "it is not improbable that the cat, in egyptian _mäu_, became the symbol of the sun-god, or day, because the word mäu also means light." [192] charles james fox, with no thought of egyptian, told the prince of wales that "cats always prefer the sunshine." the native land of this domestic pet, or nuisance, is certainly persia, and some etymologists assign _pers_ as the origin of _puss_. be this as it may, the pupil of a cat's eye is singularly changeable, dilating from the narrow line in the day-time to the luminous orb in the dark. on this account the cat is likened to the moon. but in egypt feline eyes shine with supernatural lustre. mr. hyde clarke tells us that "the mummies of cats, which herodotus saw at bubastis, attested then, as they do now, to the dedication of the cat to pasht, the moon, and the veneration of the egyptians for this animal. the cat must have been known to man, and have been named at least as early as the origin of language. the superstition of its connection with the moon is also of pre-historic date, and not invented by the egyptians. according to plutarch, a cat placed in a lustrum denoted the moon, illustrating the mutual symbology. he supposes that this is because the pupils of a cat's eyes dilate and decrease with the moon. the reason most probably depends, as before intimated, on another phenomenon of periodicity corresponding to the month. dr. rae has, however, called my attention to another possible cause of the association, which is the fact that the cat's eyes glisten at night or in the dark. it is to be observed that the name of the sun in the malayan and north american languages is the day-eye, or sky-eye, and that of the moon the night-eye." [193] our own daisy, too, is the _day's eye_, resembling the sun, and opening its little pearly lashes when the spring wakes to newness of life. the nubians "pay adoration to the moon; and that their worship is performed with pleasure and satisfaction, is obvious every night that she shines. coming out from the darkness of their huts, they say a few words upon seeing her brightness, and testify great joy, by motions of their feet and hands, at the first appearance of the new moon." [194] the shangalla worship the moon, and think that "a star passing near the horns of the moon denotes the coming of an enemy." [195] in western africa moon-worship is very prevalent. merolla says: "they that keep idols in their houses, every first day of the moon are obliged to anoint them with a sort of red wood powdered. at the appearance of every new moon, these people fall on their knees, or else cry out, standing and clapping their hands, 'so may i renew my life as thou art renewed.'" [196] h. h. johnston, esq., f.z.s., f.r.g.s., who had just returned from the region of the congo, related the following curious incident before the anthropological institute, in january, 1884. it looks remarkably like a relic of ancient worship, which gave the fruit of the body for the sin of the soul, and committed murder on earth to awaken mercy in heaven! "at certain villages between manyanga and isangila there are curious eunuch dances to celebrate the new moon, in which a white cock is thrown up into the air alive, with clipped wings, and as it falls towards the ground it is caught and plucked by the eunuchs. i was told that originally this used to be a human sacrifice, and that a young boy or girl was thrown up into the air and torn to pieces by the eunuchs as he or she fell, but that of late years slaves had got scarce or manners milder, and a white cock was now substituted." [197] the mandingoes are more attracted to the varying moon than to the sun. "on the first appearance of the new moon, which they look upon to be newly created, the pagan natives, as well as mahomedans, say a short prayer; and this seems to be the only visible adoration which the kaffirs offer up to the supreme being." the purport of this prayer is "to return thanks to god for his kindness through the existence of the past moon, and to solicit a continuation of his favour during that of the new one." [198] park writes on another page: "when the fast month was almost at an end, the bushreens assembled at the misura to watch for the appearance of the new moon; but the evening being rather cloudy, they were for some time disappointed, and a number of them had gone home with a resolution to fast another day, when on a sudden this delightful object showed her sharp horns from behind a cloud, and was welcomed with the clapping of hands, beating of drums, firing muskets, and other marks of rejoicing." [199] the makololo and bechuana custom of greeting the new moon is curious. "they watch most eagerly for the first glimpse of the new moon, and when they perceive the faint outline after the sun has set deep in the west, they utter a loud shout of 'ku?!' and vociferate prayers to it." [200] the degraded hottentots have not much improved since bory de st. vincent described them as "brutish, lazy, and stupid," and their worship of the moon is still demonstrative, as when kolben wrote: "these dances and noises are religious honours and invocations to the moon. they call her _gounja_. the supreme they call _gounja-gounja_, or _gounja ticquoa_, the god of gods, and place him far above the moon. the moon, with them, is an inferior visible god --the subject and representation of the high and invisible. they judge the moon to have the disposal of the weather, and invoke her for such as they want. they assemble for the celebration of her worship at full and change constantly. no inclemency of the weather prevents them. and their behaviour at those times is indeed very astonishing. they throw their bodies into a thousand different distortions, and make mouths and faces strangely ridiculous and horrid. now they throw themselves flat on the ground, screaming out a strange, unintelligible jargon. then jumping up on a sudden, and stamping like mad (insomuch that they make the ground shake), they direct, with open throats, the following expressions, among others, to the moon: '_i salute you; you are welcome. grant us fodder for our cattle and milk in abundance_.' these and other addresses to the moon they repeat over and over, accompanying them with dancing and clapping of hands. at the end of the dance they sing '_ho! ho! ho! ho!_' many times over, with a variation of notes; which being accompanied with clapping of hands makes a very odd and a very merry entertainment to a stranger." [201] in reality they hold a primitive watch-night service; their welcome of the new moon being very similar to our popular welcome of the new year. nor should it be omitted that the ancient ethiopians worshipped the moon; and that those who lived above meroë admitted the existence of eternal and incorruptible gods, among which the moon ranked as a chief divinity. descending the nile and crossing the mediterranean, we come to greece. "the isles of greece, the isles of greece where burning sappho loved and sung, where grew the arts of war and peace, where delos rose, and phoebus sprung eternal summer gilds them yet, but all, except their sun, is set." [202] yes, pericles and plato, sophocles and pheidias, are dust; and much of their nation's pristine glory has "melted into the infinite azure of the past": but the sun shines as youthful yet as on that eventful day when unwearied he sank in ocean, "loth, and ere his time: "so the sun sank, and all the host had rest from onset and the changeful chance of war." [203] where phoebus sprang, sprang phoebe also--the bright and beautiful moon. to a people addicted to the idolatry of perfect form and comeliness, no object could be more attractive than the queen of the night. when socrates was accused of innovating upon the greek religion, and of ridiculing the athenian deities, he replied on his trial, "you strange man, melêtus, are you seriously affirming that i do not think helios and selene to be gods, as the rest of mankind think?" [204] pausanias, the historian, tells us that in phocis there was a chapel consecrated to isis, which of all the places erected by the greeks to this egyptian goddess was by far the most holy. it was not lawful for any one to approach this sacred edifice but those whom the goddess had invited by appearing to them for that purpose in a dream. [205] by isis, as we saw from diodorus, the greeks understood the moon. diana was also one of the grecian moon-goddesses, but sir george c. lewis thinks that this was not till a comparatively late period. the religion of greece was so mixed up, or made up, with mythology, that for an interpretation of their theogony we must resort to poetry and impersonation. here again we see the working of sexual anthropomorphism. _ouranos_ espoused _ge_, and their offspring was _kronos_; which is but an ancient mode of saying that chronology is the measurement on earth of heavenly motion. solar and lunar worship was but the recognition in the primitive consciousness of the superior _worth-ship_ of these celestial bodies. as grote says: "to us these now appear puerile, though pleasing fancies, but to our homeric greek they seemed perfectly natural and plausible. in his view, the description of the sun, as given in a modern astronomical treatise, would have appeared not merely absurd, but repulsive and impious." [206] what an amount of misunderstanding would be obviated if readers of the bible would bear this in mind when they meet with erroneous conceptions in hebrew cosmogony. grote further says on the same page of his magnificent history: "personifying fiction was blended by the homeric greeks with their conception of the physical phenomena before them, not simply in the way of poetical ornament, but as a genuine portion of their everyday belief." we cannot better conclude our brief glance at ancient greece than by quoting that splendid comparison from the bard of chios, which pope thought "the most beautiful night-piece that can be found in poetry." pope's own version is fine, but, as a translation, lord derby's must be preferred: "as when in heaven, around the glittering moon the stars shine bright amid the breathless air; and every crag and every jutting peak stands boldly forth, and every forest glade even to the gates of heaven is opened wide the boundless sky; shines each particular star distinct; joy fills the gazing shepherd's heart." [207] the romans had many gods, superior and inferior. the former were the _celestial_ deities, twelve in number, among whom was diana; and the _dii selecti_, numbering eight. of these, one was luna, the moon, daughter of hyperion and sister of the sun. [208] livy speaks of "a temple of luna, which is on the aventine"; and tacitus mentions, in his annals, a temple consecrated to the moon. in horace, luna is "_siderum regina_"; [209] and in apuleius, "_regina coeli_," [210] bishop warburton, in his synopsis of apuleius, speaks of the hopeless condition of _lucius_, which obliged him to fly to heaven for relief. "the _moon_ is in full splendour; and the awful silence of the night inspires him with sentiments of religion." he then purifies himself, and so makes his prayer to the moon, invoking her by her several names, as the celestial _venus_ and _diana_. [211] this whole section of the _divine legation_ is worthy of close study. "the ancient goths," says rudbeck ("atalantis," ii. 609), "paid such regard to the moon, that some have thought that they worshipped her more than the sun." [212] and of the ancient germans grimm says: "that to our remote ancestry the heavenly bodies, especially the sun and moon, were divine beings, will not admit of any doubt." [213] gibbon, friedrich schlegel, and others, say the same. the finns worshipped "kun, the male god of the moon, who corresponded exactly with the aku, enizuna, or itu of the accadians." [214] in ancient britain the moon occupied a high position in the religion of the druids, who had superstitious rites at the lunar changes, and who are "always represented as having the crescent in their hands." [215] "from the _penitential_ of theodore, archbishop of canterbury, in the seventh century, and the _confessional_ of ecgbert, archbishop of york, in the early part of the eighth century, we may infer that homage was then offered to the sun and moon." [216] again, "there are many proofs, direct and circumstantial, that place it beyond all doubt that the moon was one of the objects of heathen worship in britain. but under what name the moon was invoked is not discoverable, unless it may have been andraste, the goddess to whom the british queen boadicea, with hands outstretched to heaven, appealed when about to engage in battle with the romans." [217] a writer of the seventeenth century, says: "in yorkeshire, etc., northwards, some country woemen do-e worship the new moon on their bare knees, kneeling upon an earthfast stone. and the people of athol, in the high-lands in scotland, doe worship the new moon." [218] camden writes of the irish: "whether or no they worship the moon, i know not; but, when they first see her after the change, they commonly bow the knee, and say the lord's prayer; and near the wane, address themselves to her with a loud voice, after this manner: 'leave us as well as thou foundest us.'" [219] sylvester o'halloran, the irish general and historian, speaking of "the correspondent customs of the phoenicians and the irish," adds: "their deities were the same. they both adored bel, or the sun, the moon, and the stars. the house of rimmon (2 kings v. 18), which the phoenicians worshipped in, like our temples of fleachta, in meath, was sacred to the moon. the word 'rimmon' has by no means been understood by the different commentators; and yet by recurring to the irish (a branch of the phoenicians) it becomes very intelligible; for _re_ is irish for the moon, and _muadh_ signifies an image; and the compound word _reamham_ signifies prognosticating by the appearances of the moon. it appears by the life of our great st. columba, that the druid temples were _here_ decorated with figures of the sun, the moon, and the stars. the phoenicians, under the name of bel-samen, adored the supreme; and it is pretty remarkable that _to this very day_, to wish a friend every happiness this life can afford, we say in irish, '_the blessings of samen and eel be with you_!' that is, of all the seasons; bel signifying the sun, and samhain the moon." [220] and again: "next to the sun was the moon, which the irish undoubtedly adored. some remains of this worship may be traced, even at this day; as particularly borrowing, if they should not have it about them, a piece of silver on the first night of a new moon, as an omen of plenty during the month; and at the same time saying in irish, 'as you have found us in peace and prosperity, so leave us in grace and mercy.'" [221] tuathal, the prince to whom the estates (_circa_ a.d. 106) swore solemnly "by the sun, moon, and stars," to bear true allegiance, "in that portion of the imperial domain taken from munster, erected a magnificent temple called flachta, sacred to the fire of samhain, and to the samnothei, or priests of the moon. here, on every eve of november, were the fires of samhain lighted up, with great pomp and ceremony, the monarch, the druids, and the chiefs of the kingdom attending; and from this holy fire, and no other, was every fire in the land first lit for the winter. it was deemed an act of the highest impiety to kindle the winter fires from any other; and for this favour the head of every house paid a scrubal, or threepence, tax, to the arch-druid of samhain." [222] another writer mentions another irish moon-god. "the next heathen divinity which i would bring under notice is st. luan, _alias_ molua, _alias_ euan, _alias_ lugidus, _alias_ lugad, and moling, etc. the foundations, with which this saint under some of his _aliases_ is connected, extend over eight counties in the provinces of ulster, leinster, and munster. luan is to this; day the common irish word for the moon. we read that there were fifteen saints of the name of lugadius; and as lugidus was one of luan's _aliases_, i have set them all down as representing the moon in the several places where that planet was worshipped as the symbol of female nature." [223] we have already seen that the moon was the embodiment of the female principle in china, and now we see that the primitive kelts associated sexuality with astronomy and religion. it but further proves that "one touch of nature makes the whole world kin." moreover, to show that former moon-worship still colours our religion, it is not to be overlooked that, as our christmas festivities are but a continuation of the roman saturnalia, with their interchanges of visits and presents, so "the church, celebrating in august the festival of the harvest moon, celebrates at the same time the feast of the assumption and of the sacred heart of the virgin. and catholic painters, following the description in the apocalypse, fondly depict her as 'clothed with the sun, and having the moon under her feet,' and both as overriding the dragon. even the triumph of easter is not celebrated until, by attaining its full, the moon accords its aid and sanction. is it not interesting thus to discover the true note of catholicism in the most ancient paganisms, and to find that the moon, which for us is incarnate in the blessed virgin mary, was for the syrians and greeks respectively personified in the virgin ashtoreth, the queen of heaven, and diana, or phoebe, the feminine of phoebus?" [224] a recent contributor to one of our valuable serials writes: "i take the following extract from a little book published under the auspices of dr. barnardo. it is the 'truthful narrative' of a little sweep-girl picked up in the streets of some place near brighton, and 'admitted into dr. barnardo's village home.' 'she had apparently no knowledge of god or sense of his presence. the only thing she had any reverence for was the moon. on one occasion, when the children were going to evening service, and a beautiful moon was shining, one of them pointed to it, exclaiming, 'oh, mother! look, what a beautiful moon!' little mary caught hold of her hand, and cried, 'yer mustn't point at the blessed moon like that; and yer mustn't talk about it!' was it from constantly sleeping under hedges and in barns, and waking up and seeing that bright calm eye looking at her, that some sense of a mysterious presence had come upon the child?" [225] to this query, the answer we think should be negative. the cause more likely was that she had heard the common tradition which is yet current in east lancashire, cumberland, and elsewhere, that it is a sin to point at the moon. certain old gentlemen, who ought to be better informed, still touch their hats, and devout young girls in the country districts still curtsey, to the new moon, as an act of worship. the american races practise luniolatry very generally. the dakotahs worship both sun and moon. the delaware and iroquois indians sacrifice to these orbs, and it is most singular that "they sacrifice to a hare, because, according to report, the first ancestor of the indian tribes had that name." but, although they receive in a dream as their tutelar spirits, the sun, moon, owl, buffalo, and so forth, "they positively deny that they pay any adoration to these subordinate good spirits, and affirm that they only worship the true god, through them." [226] this reminds us of some excellent remarks made by one whose intimate acquaintance with north american indians entitled him to speak with authority. we have seen from dr. legge's writings that though the chinese worshipped a multitude of celestial spirits, "yet the monotheism remained." mr. catlin will now assure us that though the american indians adore the heavenly bodies, they recognise the great spirit who inhabits them all. these are his words: "i have heard it said by some very good men, and some who have even been preaching the christian religion amongst them, that they have no religion--that all their zeal in their worship of the great spirit was but the foolish excess of ignorant superstition--that their humble devotions and supplications to the sun and the moon, where many of them suppose that the great spirit resides, were but the absurd rantings of idolatry. to such opinions as these i never yet gave answer, nor drew other instant inferences from them, than that, from the bottom of my heart, i pitied the persons who gave them." [227] mr. catlin undoubtedly was right, as the apostle paul was right, when he acknowledged that the athenians worshipped the true god, albeit in ignorance. at the same time, though idolatry is in numberless instances nothing more than the use of media and mediators, in seeking the one, invisible, absolute spirit, it is so naturally abused by sensuous beings who rest in the concrete, that no image worshipper is free from the propensity to worship the creature more than the creator, and to forget the essence in familiarity with the form. the perfection of worship, we conceive, is pure theism; but how few are capable of breathing in such a supersensuous air! men must have their "means of grace," their visible symbols, their holy waters and consecrated wafers, their crucifixes and talismans, their silver shrines and golden calves. "these be thy gods, o israel." "the ahts undoubtedly worship the sun and the moon, particularly the full moon, and the sun while ascending to the zenith. like the teutons, they regard the moon as the husband, and the sun as the wife; hence their prayers are more generally addressed to the moon, as being the superior deity. the moon is the highest of all the objects of their worship; and they describe the moon--i quote the words of my indian informant--as looking down upon the earth in answer to prayer, and as seeing everybody." [228] of the indians of vancouver island, another writer says: "the moon is among all the heavenly bodies the highest object of veneration. when working at the settlement at alberni in gangs by moonlight, individuals have been observed to look up to the moon, blow a breath, and utter quickly the word, '_teech! teech!_' (health, or life). life! life! this is the great prayer of these people's hearts." [229] "among the comanches of texas, the sun, moon, and earth are the principal objects of worship." the kaniagmioutes consider the moon and sun to be brother and sister. [230] meztli was the moon as deified by the mexicans. in teotihuacan, thirty miles north of the city of mexico, is the site of an ancient city twenty miles in circumference. near the centre of this spot stand the pyramid of the sun and the pyramid of the moon. the pyramid of the sun has a base 682 feet long and is 180 feet high (the pyramid of cheops is 728 feet at the base, and is 448 feet in height). the pyramid of the moon is rather less, and is due north of that of the sun. [231] no doubt the philosophy of all pyramids would show that they embody the uplifting of the human soul towards the heaven-father of all. in northern mexico still "the ceris superstitiously celebrate the new moon." [232] this luniolatry the abbé brasseur de bourbourg explains by a novel theory. he holds that the forefathers of american civilization lived in a certain crescent land in the atlantic that a physical catastrophe destroyed their country whereupon the remnant that was saved commemorated their lost land by adopting the moon as their god. [233] "the population of central america," says the vicomte de bussierre, "although they had preserved the vague notion of a superior eternal god and creator, known by the name teotl, had an olympus as numerous as that of the greeks and the romans. it would appear that the inhabitants of anahuac joined to the idea of a supreme being the worship of the sun and the moon, offering them flowers, fruits, and the first fruits of their fields." [234] dr. reville bids us "note that the ancient central-american cultus of the sun and moon, considered as the two supreme deities, was by no means renounced by the aztecs." [235] regarding this remarkable race, a writer in the _quarterly review_ for april, 1883, says: "even the chaldaeans were not greater astrologers than the aztecs, and we need no further proof that the heavenly bodies were closely and accurately observed, than we find in the fact that the true length of the tropical year had been ascertained long before scientific instruments were even thought of. their religious festivals were regulated by the movements of these bodies; but with their knowledge was mingled so vast a mass of superstition, that it is difficult to discern a gleam of light through the thick darkness." "the botocudos of brazil held the moon in high veneration, and attributed to her influence the chief phenomena in nature." [236] the indian of the coroados tribe in brazil, "chained to the present, hardly ever raises his eyes to the starry firmament. yet he is actuated by a certain awe of some constellations, as of everything that indicates a spiritual connection of things. his chief attention, however, is not directed to the sun, but to the moon; according to which he calculates time, and from which he is used to deduce good and evil." [237] the celebrated abipones honour with silver altars and adoration the moon, which they call the consort of the sun, and certain stars, which they term the handmaids of the moon: but their most singular idea is that the pleiades represent their grandfather; and "as that constellation disappears at certain periods from the sky of south america, upon such occasions they suppose that their grandfather is sick, and are under a yearly apprehension that he is going to die; but as soon as those seven stars are again visible in the month of may, they welcome their grandfather, as if returned and restored from sickness, with joyful shouts, and the festive sound of pipes and trumpets, congratulating him on the recovery of his health." [238] the peruvians "acknowledge no other gods than the pachacamac, who is the supreme, and the sun, who is inferior to him, and the moon, who is his sister and wife." [239] in the religion of the incas the idol (huaco) of the moon was in charge of women, and when it was brought from the house of the sun, to be worshipped, it was carried on their shoulders, because they said "it was a woman, and the figure resembled one." [240]_pachacamac_, the great deity mentioned above, signifies "earth-animator." prescott, in describing the temple of the sun, at cuzco in peru, tells us that "adjoining the principal structure were several chapels of smaller dimensions. one of them was consecrated to the moon, the deity held next in reverence, as the mother of the incas. her effigy was delineated in the same manner as that of the sun, on a vast plate that nearly covered one side of the apartment. but this plate, as well as all the decorations of the building, was of silver, as suited to the pale, silvery light of the beautiful planet." [241] in the far-off new hebrides the eramangans "worship the moon, having images in the form of the new and full moons, made of a kind of stone. they do not pray to these images, but cleave to them as their protecting gods." [242] we have now circumnavigated the globe, touching at many points, within many degrees of latitude and longitude. but everywhere, among men of different literatures and languages, colours and creeds, we have discovered the worship of the moon. no nation has outgrown the practice, for it obtains among the polished as well as the rude. one thing, indeed, we ought to have had impressed upon our minds with fresh force; namely, that we often draw the lines of demarcation too broad between those whom we are pleased to divide into the civilized and the savage. israelite and heathen, grecian and barbarian, roman and pagan, enlightened and benighted, saintly and sinful, are fine distinctions from the hebrew, greek, roman, enlightened, and saintly sides of the question; but they often reflect small credit upon the wisdom and generosity of their authors. the antipodal eramangan who cleaves to his moon image for protection may be quite equal, both intellectually and morally, with the anglo-saxon who still wears his amulet to ward off disease, or nails up his horse-shoe, as nelson did to the mast of the _victory_, as a guarantee of good luck. sir george grey has written: "it must be borne in mind, that the native races, who believed in these traditions or superstitions, are in no way deficient in intellect, and in no respect incapable of receiving the truths of christianity; on the contrary, they readily embrace its doctrines and submit to its rules; in our schools they stand a fair comparison with europeans; and, when instructed in christian truths, blush at their own former ignorance and superstitions, and look back with shame and loathing upon their previous state of wickedness and credulity." [243] iv. the moon a water-deity. we design this chapter to be the completion of moon-worship, and at the same time an anticipation of those lunary superstitions which are but scattered leaves from luniolatry, the parent tree. if the new moon, with its waxing light, may represent the primitive nature-worship which spread over the earth; and the full moon, the deity who is supposed to regulate our reservoirs and supplies of water: the waning moon may fitly typify the grotesque and sickly superstition, which, under the progress of radiant science and spiritual religion, is readier every hour to vanish away. "the name astarte was variously identified with the moon, as distinguished from the sun, or with air and water, as opposed in their qualities to fire. the name of this goddess represented to the worshipper the great female parent of all animated things, variously conceived of as the moon, the earth, the watery element, primeval night, the eldest of the destinies." [244] it is worthy of note that van helmont, in the seventeenth century, holds similar language. his words are, "the moon is chief over the night darkness, rest, death, and the waters." [245] it is also remarkable that in the language of the algonquins of north america the ideas of night, death, cold, sleep, water, and moon are expressed by one and the same word. [246] in the oriental mythology "the connection between the moon and water suggests the idea that the moon produces fertility and freshness in the soil." [247] "al zamakhshari, the commentator on the koran, derives _manah_ (one of the three idols worshipped by the arabs before the time of mohammad) from the root 'to flow,' because of the blood which flowed at the sacrifices to this idol, or, as millius explains it, because the ancient idea of the moon was that it was a star full of moisture, with which it filled the sublunary regions." [248] the persians held that the moon was the cause of an abundant supply of water and of rain, and therefore the names of the most fruitful places in persia are compounded with the word _mâh_, "moon"; "for in the opinion of the iranians the growth of plants depends on the influence of the moon." [249] in india "the moon is generally a male, for its most popular names, _candras_, _indus_, and _somas_, are masculine; but as somas signifies ambrosia, the moon, as giver of ambrosia, soon came to be considered a milk-giving cow; in fact, moon is one among the various meanings given in sanskrit to the word gâus (cow). the moon, somas, who illumines the nocturnal sky, and the pluvial sun, indras, who during the night, or the winter, prepares the light of morn, or spring, are represented as companions; a young girl, the evening, or autumnal twilight, who goes to draw water towards night, or winter, finds in the well, and takes to indras, the ambrosial moon, that is, the somas whom he loves. here are the very words of the vedic hymn: 'the young girl, descending towards the water, found the moon in the fountain, and said: i will take you to indras, i will take you to çakras; flow, o moon, and envelop indras.'" [250] here in india we again find our old friend "the frog in the moon." "it is especially indus who satisfies the frog's desire for rain. indus, as the moon, brings or announces the somas, or the rain; the frog, croaking, announces or brings the rain; and at this point the frog, which we have seen identified at first with the cloud, is also identified with the pluvial moon." [251] this myth is not lacking in involution. in china "the moon is regarded as chief and director of everything subject in the kosmic system to the yin [feminine] principle, such as darkness, the earth, female creatures, water, etc. thus pao p'ah tsze declares with reference to the tides: 'the vital essence of the moon governs water: and hence, when the moon is at its brightest, the tides are high.'" [252] according to the japanese fairy tale the moon was to "rule over the new-born earth and the blue waste of the sea, with its multitudinous salt waters." [253] thus we see that throughout asia, "as lord of moisture and humidity, the moon is connected with growth and the nurturing power of the peaceful night." [254] of the kindred of the pharaohs, plutarch observes: "the sun and moon were described by the egyptians as sailing round the world in boats, intimating that these bodies owe their power of moving, as well as their support and nourishment, to the principle of humidity" (plut. de isid. s. 34): which statement sir j. gardner wilkinson says is confirmed by the sculptures. the moon-god khons bears in his hands either a palm-branch or "the nilometer." when the egyptians sacrificed a pig to the moon, "the first sacred emblem they carried was a _hydria_, or water-pitcher." at another festival the egyptians "marched in procession towards the sea-side, whither likewise the priests and other proper officers carried the sacred chest, inclosing a small boat or vessel of gold, into which they first poured some fresh water; and then all present cried out with a loud voice 'osiris is found.' this ceremony being ended, they threw a little fresh mould, together with rich odours and spices, into the water, mixing the whole mass together, and working it up into a little image in the shape of a crescent. the image was afterwards dressed and adorned with a proper habit, and the whole was intended to intimate that they looked upon these gods as the essence and power of earth and water." [255] the austro-hungarians have a man in the moon who is a sort of aquarius. grimm says: "water, an essential part of the norse myth, is wanting in the story of the man with the thorn bush, but it reappears in the carniolan story cited in bretano's libussa (p. 421): the man in the moon is called kotar, he makes her grow by pouring water." [256] the scandinavian legend, distilled into jack and jill, is, as we have seen, an embodiment of early european belief that the ebb and flow of the tides were dependent upon the motions and mutations of the moon. we find the same notion prevailing in the western hemisphere. "as the moon is associated with the dampness and dews of night, an ancient and widespread myth identified her with the goddess of water. moreover, in spite of the expostulations of the learned, the common people the world over persist in attributing to her a marked influence on the rains. whether false or true, this familiar opinion is of great antiquity, and was decidedly approved by the indians, who were all, in the words of an old author, 'great observers of the weather by the moon.' they looked upon her, not only as forewarning them by her appearance of the approach of rains and fogs, but as being their actual cause. isis, her egyptian title, literally means moisture; ataensic, whom the hurons said was the moon, is derived from the word for water; and citatli and atl, moon and water, are constantly confounded in aztec theology." [257] one of the gods of the dakotahs was "unk-ta-he (god of the water). the dakotahs say that this god and its associates are seen in their dreams. it is the master-spirit of all their juggling and superstitious belief, from it the medicine men obtain their supernatural powers, and a great part of their religion springs from this god." [258] brinton also says of this large indian nation, "that muktahe, spirit of water, is the master of dreams and witchcraft, is the belief of the dakotahs." [259] we know that the dakotahs worshipped the moon, and therefore see no difficulty in identifying that divinity with their god of dreams and water. "in the legend of the muyscas it is chia, the moon, who was also goddess of water and flooded the earth out of spite." [260] in this myth the moon is a malevolent deity, and water, usually a symbol of life, becomes an agency of death. reactions are constantly occurring in the myth-making process. the god is male or female, good or evil, angry or amiable, according to the season or climate, the aspect of nature or the mood of the people. "in hot countries," says sir john lubbock, "the sun is generally regarded as an evil, and in cold as a beneficent being." [261] we are willing to accept this, with allowance. there is little question that taking men as a whole they are mainly optimistic in their judgments respecting the gifts of earth and the glories of heaven. mr. brinton, in reference to the imagined destructiveness of the water deity, writes: "another reaction in the mythological laboratory is here disclosed. as the good qualities of water were attributed to the goddess of night, sleep, and death, so her malevolent traits were in turn reflected back on this element. taking, however, american religions as a whole, water is far more frequently represented as producing beneficent effects than the reverse." [262] "the time of full moon was chosen both in mexico and peru to celebrate the festival of the deities of water, the patrons of agriculture, and very generally the ceremonies connected with the crops were regulated by her phases. the nicaraguans said that the god of rains, quiateot, rose in the east, thus hinting how this connection originated." [263] "the muyscas of the high plains of bogota were once, they said, savages without agriculture, religion, or law; but there came to them from the east an old and bearded man, bochica, the child of the sun, and he taught them to till the fields, to clothe themselves, to worship the gods, to become a nation. but bochica had a wicked, beautiful wife, huythaca, who loved to spite and spoil her husband's work; and she it was who made the river swell till the land was covered by a flood, and but a few of mankind escaped upon the mountain tops. then bochica was wroth, and he drove the wicked huythaca from the earth, and made her the moon, for there had been no moon before; and he cleft the rocks and made the mighty cataract of tequendama, to let the deluge flow away. then, when the land was dry, he gave to the remnant of mankind the year and its periodic sacrifices, and the worship of the sun. now the people who told this myth had not forgotten, what indeed we might guess without their help, that bochica was himself zuhé, the sun, and huytheca, the sun's wife, the moon." [264] this interesting and instructive legend, to which we alluded before in a brief quotation from mr. brinton, is worthy of reproduction in its fuller form, and fitly concludes our moon mythology and worship, as it presents a synoptical view of the chief points to which our attention has been turned. it shows us primitive or primeval man, the dawn of civilization, the daybreak of religion, the upgrowth of national life. in its solar husband and lunar wife it embraces that anthropomorphism and sexuality which we think have been and still are the principal factors in the production of legendary and religious impersonations. it includes that dualism which is one of man's oldest attempts to account for the opposition of good and evil. and finally it predicts a new humanity, springing from a remnant of the old; and a progress of brighter years, when, the deluge having disappeared, the dry land shall be fruitful in every good; when men shall worship the father of lights, and "god shall be all in all." [*] for further information on the universality of moon-worship, see _the ceremonies and religious customs of the various nations of the known world_, by bernard picart. london: 1734, folio, vol. iii. moon superstitions. i. introduction. superstition may be defined as an extravagance of faith and fear: not what ecclesiastes calls being "righteous overmuch," but religious reverence in excess. some etymologists say that the word originally meant a "_standing_ still _over_ or by a thing" in fear, wonder, or dread. [265] brewer's definition is rather more classical: "that which survives when its companions are dead (latin, _supersto_). those who escaped in battle were called _superstitës_. superstition is that religion which remains when real religion is dead; that fear and awe and worship paid to the religious impression which survives in the mind when correct notions of deity no longer exist." [266] hooker says that superstition "is always joined with a wrong opinion touching things divine. superstition is, when things are either abhorred or observed with a zealous or fearful, but erroneous relation to god. by means whereof the superstitious do sometimes serve, though the true god, yet with needless offices, and defraud him of duties necessary; sometimes load others than him with such honours as properly are his." [267] a bampton lecturer on this subject says: "superstition is an _unreasonable belief_ of that which is mistaken for truth concerning the nature of god and the invisible world, our relations to these unseen objects, and the duties which spring out of those relations." [268] we may next briefly inquire into the origin of the thing, which, of course, is older than the word. burton will help us to an easy answer. he tells us that "the _primum mobile_, and first mover of all superstition, is the devil, that great enemy of mankind, the principal agent, who in a thousand several shapes, after divers fashions, with several engines, illusions, and by several names, hath deceived the inhabitants of the earth, in several places and countries, still rejoicing at their falls." [269] verily this protean, omnipresent, and malignant devil has proved himself a great convenience! he has been the scapegoat upon whom we have laid the responsibility of all our mortal woe: and now we learn that to his infernal influence we are indebted for our ignorance and superstition. henceforth, when we are at our wit's end, we may apostrophize the difficulty, and exclaim, "o thou invisible spirit, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!" we hesitate to spoil this serviceable illusion: for as we have known some good people, of a sort, who would be distressed to find that there was no hell to burn up the opponents of their orthodoxy; we fear lest many would be disappointed if they found out that the infernal spirit was not at the bottom of our abysmal ignorance. but we will give even the devil his due. we are not like sir william brown, who "could never bring himself heartily to hate the devil." we can, wherever we find him; but we think it only honest to father our own mental deficiencies, as well as our moral delinquencies, and instead of seeking a substitute to use the available remedy. "to err is human"; and it is in humanity itself that we shall discover the source of superstition. we are the descendants of ancestors who were the children of the world, and we were ourselves children not so long ago. childhood is the age of fancy and fiction; of sensitiveness to outer influences; of impressions of things as they seem, not as they are. when we become men we put away childish things; and in the manhood of our race we shall banish many of the idols and ideas which please us while we grow. darwin has told us that our "judgment will not rarely err from ignorance and weak powers of reasoning. hence the strangest customs and superstitions, in complete opposition to the true welfare and happiness of mankind, have become all-powerful throughout the world. how so many absurd rules of conduct, as well as so many absurd religious beliefs, have originated, we do not know; nor how it is that they have become, in all quarters of the world, so deeply impressed on the mind of men; but it is worthy of remark that a belief constantly inculcated during the early years of life, whilst the brain is impressible, appears to acquire almost the nature of an instinct; and the very essence of an instinct is that it is followed independently of reason." [270] but if superstition be the result of imperfection, there is no gainsaying the fact that it is productive of infinite evil; and on this account it has been attributed to a diabolical paternity. bacon even affirms that "it were better to have no opinion of god at all, than such an opinion as is unworthy of him; for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely: and certainly superstition is the reproach of the deity." [271] most heartily do we hold with dr. thomas browne: "it is not enough to believe in god as an irresistible power that presides over the universe; for this a malignant demon might be. it is necessary for our devout happiness that we should believe in him as that pure and gracious being who is the encourager of our virtues and the comforter of our sorrows. quantum religio potuit suadere malorum, exclaims the epicurean poet, in thinking of the evils which superstition, characterized by that ambiguous name, had produced; and where a fierce or gloomy superstition has usurped the influence which religion graciously exercises only for purposes of benevolence to man, whom she makes happy with a present enjoyment, by the very expression of devout gratitude for happiness already enjoyed, it would not be easy to estimate the amount of positive misery which must result from the mere contemplation of a tyrant in the heavens, and of a creation subject to his cruelty and caprice." [272] the above quoted line from lucretius--to such evils could religion persuade!--is more than the exclamation of righteous indignation against the sacrifice of iphigenia by her father, agamemnon, at the bidding of a priest, to propitiate a goddess. it is still further applicable to the long chain of outrageous wrongs which have been inflicted upon the innocent at the instigation of a stupid and savage fanaticism. what is worst of all, much of this bloodthirsty religion has claimed a commission from the god of love, and performed its detestable deeds in the insulted name of that "soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit," whom the loftiest and best of men delight to adore as the prince of peace. no wonder that voltaire cried out, "christian religion, behold thy consequences!" if he could calculate that ten million lives had been immolated on the altar of a spurious christianity. one hundred thousand were slain in the bartholomew massacre alone. righteousness, peace, and love were not the monster which voltaire laboured to crush: he was most intensely incensed against the blind and bigoted priesthood, against the malicious and murderous servants who ate the bread of a holy and harmless master, against "their intolerance of light and hatred of knowledge, their fierce yet profoundly contemptible struggles with one another, the scandals of their casuistry, their besotted cruelty." [273] we have been betrayed into speaking thus strongly of the extreme lengths to which superstition will carry those who yield themselves to its ruthless tyranny. but perhaps we have not gone far from our subject, after all; for the innocent iphigenia, whose doom kindled our ire, was sacrificed to the goddess of the moon. ii. lunar fancies. there are a few phosphorescent fancies about the moon, like _ignes fatui_, "dancing in murky night o'er fen and lake," which we may dispose of in a section by themselves. those of them that are mythical are too evanescent to become full-grown myths; and those which are religious are too volatile to remain in the solution or salt of any bottled creed. like the wandering lights of the russians, answering to our will-o'-the-wisp, they are the souls of still-born children. there is, for example, the insubstantial and formless but pleasing conception of the indian veda. in the râmâyanam the moon is a good fairy, who in giving light in the night assumes a benignant aspect and succours the dawn. in the vedic hymn, râkâ, the full moon, is exhorted to sew the work with a needle which cannot be broken. here the moon is personified as preparing during the night her luminous garments, one for the evening, the other for the morning, the one lunar and of silver, the other solar and of gold. [274] another notion, equally airy but more religious, has sprung up in christian times and in catholic countries. it is that heathen fancy which connects the moon with the virgin mary. abundant evidence of this association in the minds of roman catholics is furnished by the style of the ornaments which crowd the continental churches. one of the most conspicuous is the sun and moon in conjunction, precisely as they are represented on babylonian and grecian coins; and the identification of the virgin and her child with the moon any roman catholic cathedral will show. [275] the _roman missal_ will present to any reader "sancta maria, coeli regina, et mundi domina"; the _glories of mary_ will exhibit her as the omnipotent mother, queen of the universe; and ecclesiastical history will declare how, as early as the close of the fourth century, the women who were called collyridians worshipped her "as a goddess, and judged it necessary to appease her anger, and seek her favour and protection, by libations, sacrifices, and oblations of cakes (_collyridae_)." [276] this is but a repetition of the women kneading dough to make cakes to the queen of heaven, as recorded by jeremiah; and proves that the relative position occupied by astarte in company with baal, juno with jupiter, doorga with brahma, and ma-tsoo-po with boodh, is that occupied by mary with god. nay more, she is "mater creatoris" and "dei genetrix": mother of the creator, mother of god. having thus been enthroned in the position in the universal pantheon which was once occupied by the moon, what wonder that the ignorant devotee should see her in that orb, especially as the sun, moon, and stars of the apocalypse are her chief symbols. southey has recorded a good illustration of this superstitious fancy. "a fine circumstance occurred in the shipwreck of the _santiago_, 1585. the ship struck in the night; the wretched crew had been confessing, singing litanies, etc., and this they continued till, about two hours before break of day, the moon arose beautiful and exceeding bright; and forasmuch as till that time they had been in such darkness that they could scarcely sec one another when close at hand, such was the stir among them at beholding the brightness and glory of that orb, that most part of the crew began to lift up their voices, and with tears, cries, and groans called upon our lady, saying they saw her in the moon." [277] the preceding fancies would produce upon the poetic and religious sense only an agreeable effect. other hallucinations have wrought effects of an opposite kind. the face in the moon does not always wear an amiable aspect, and it is not unnatural that those who have been taught to believe in angry gods and frowning providences should see the caricatures of their false teachers reproduced in the heavens above and in the earth beneath. we are reminded here of the magic mirror mentioned by bayle. there is a trick, invented by pythagoras, which is performed in the following manner. the moon being at the full, some one writes with blood on a looking-glass anything he has a mind to; and having given notice of it to another person, he stands behind that other and turns towards the moon the letters written in the glass. the other looking fixedly on the shining orb reads in it all that is written on the mirror as if it were written on the moon. [278] this is precisely the _modus operandi_ by which the knavish have imposed upon the foolish in all ages. the manipulator of the doctrine stands behind his credulous disciple, writing out of sight his invented science or theology, and writing too often with the blood of some innocent victim. the poor patient student is meanwhile gazing on the moon in dreamy devotion; until as the writing on the mirror is read with solemn intonation, it all appears before his moon-struck gaze as a heavenly revelation. woe to the truth-loving critic who breaks the enchantment and the mirror, crying out in the vernacular tongue, your mysteries are myths, your writings are frauds; and the fair moon is innocent of the lying imposition! to multitudes the moon has always been an object of terror and dread. not only is it a supramundane and magnified man--that it will always be while its spots are so anthropoid, and man himself is so anthropomorphic--but it has ever been, and still is, a being of maleficent and misanthropic disposition. as mr. tylor says, "when the aleutians thought that if any one gave offence to the moon, he would fling down stones on the offender and kill him; or when the moon came down to an indian squaw, appearing in the form of a beautiful woman with a child in her arms, and demanding an offering of tobacco and fur-robes: what conceptions of personal life could be more distinct than these?" [279] personal and distinct, indeed, but far from pleasant. another author tells us that "in some parts of scotland to point at the stars or to do aught that might be considered an indignity in the face of the sun or moon, is still to be dreaded and avoided; so also it was not long since, probably still is, in devonshire and cornwall. the jews seem to have been equally superstitious on this point (jer. viii. 1, 2), and the persians believed leprosy to be an infliction on those who had committed some offence against the sun." [280] southey supplies us with an illustration of the moon in a fit of dudgeon. he is describing the sufferings of poor hans stade, when he was caught by the tupinambas and expected that he was about to die. "the moon was up, and fixing his eyes upon her, he silently besought god to vouchsafe him a happy termination of these sufferings. yeppipo wasu, who was one of the chiefs of the horde, and as such had convoked the meeting, seeing how earnestly he kept gazing upwards, asked him what he was looking at. hans had ceased from praying, and was observing the man in the moon, and fancying that he looked angry; his mind was broken down by continual terror, and he says it seemed to him at that moment as if he were hated by god, and by all things which god had created. the question only half roused him from this phantasy, and he answered, it was plain that the moon was angry. the savage asked whom she was angry with, and then hans, as if he had recollected himself, replied that she was looking at his dwelling. this enraged him, and hans found it prudent to say that perhaps her eyes were turned so wrathfully upon the carios; in which opinion the chief assented, and wished she might destroy them all." [281] some such superstitious fear must have furnished the warp into which the following icelandic story was woven. "there was once a sheep-stealer who sat down in a lonely place, with a leg of mutton in his hand, in order to feast upon it, for he had just stolen it. the moon shone bright and clear, not a single cloud being there in heaven to hide her. while enjoying his gay feast, the impudent thief cut a piece off the meat, and, putting it on the point of his knife, accosted the moon with these godless words:- 'o moon, wilt thou on thy mouth now this dainty bit of mutton-meat?' then a voice came from the heavens, saying:- 'wouldst thou, thief, like thy cheek to strike this fair key, scorching-red with heat?' at the same moment, a red-hot key fell from the sky on to the cheek of the thief, burning on it a mark which he carried with him ever afterwards. hence arose the custom in ancient times of branding or marking thieves." [282] the moral influence of this tale is excellent, and has the cordial admiration of all who hate robbery and effrontery: at the same time it exhibits the moon as an irascible body, with which no liberty may be taken. in short, it is an object of superstitious awe. one other lunar fancy, born and bred in fear, is connected with the abominable superstition of witchcraft. abominable, unquestionably, the evil was; but justice compels us to add that the remedy of relentless and ruthless persecution with which it was sought to remove the pest was a reign of abhorrent and atrocious cruelty. into the question itself we dare not enter, lest we should be ourselves bewitched. we know that divination by supposed supernatural agency existed among the hebrews, that magical incantations were practised among the greeks and romans, and that more modern witchcraft has been contemporaneous with the progress of christianity. but we must dismiss the subject in one borrowed sentence. "the main source from which we derived this superstition is the east, and traditions and facts incorporated in our religion. there were only wanted the ferment of thought of the fifteenth century, the energy, ignorance, enthusiasm, and faith of those days, and the papal denunciation of witchcraft by the bull of innocent the eighth, in 1459, to give fury to the delusion. and from this time, for three centuries, the flames at which more than a hundred thousand victims perished cast a lurid light over europe." [283] the singular notion, which we wish to present, is the ancient belief that witches could control the moon. in the _clouds_ of aristophanes, strepsiades tells socrates that he has "a notion calculated to deprive of interest"; which is as follows:- "_str_. if i were to buy a thessalian witch, and draw down the moon by night, then shut her up in a round helmet-case, like a mirror, and then keep watching her--" "_soc_. what good would that do you, then?" "_str_. what? if the moon were not to rise any more anywhere, i should not pay the interest." "_soc_. because what?" "_str_. because the money is lent by the month." [284] shakespeare alludes to this, where prospero says, "his mother was a witch, and one so strong that could control the moon" (_tempest_, act v.). if the witch's broom, on whose stick she rode to the moon, be a type of the wind, we may guess how the fancy grew up that the airy creation could control those atmospheric vapours on which the light and humidity of the night were supposed to depend. [285] iii. lunar eclipses. all round the globe, from time immemorial, those periodic phenomena known as solar and lunar eclipses have been occasions of mental disquietude and superstitious alarm. though now regarded as perfectly natural and regular, they have seemed so preternatural and irregular to the unscientific eye that we cannot wonder at the consternation which they have caused. and it must be confessed that a total obscuration of the sun in the middle of the day casts such a gloom over the earth that men not usually timid are still excusable if during the parenthesis they feel a temporary uneasiness, and are relieved when the ruler of the day emerges from his dark chamber, apparently rejoicing to renew his race. an eclipse of the moon, though less awe-inspiring, is nevertheless sufficiently so to awaken in the superstitious brain fearful forebodings of impending calamity. science may demonstrate that there is nothing abnormal in these occurrences, but to the seeker after signs it wilt be throwing words away; for, as lord kames says, "superstitious eyes are never opened by instruction." we will now produce a number of testimonies to show how these lunar eclipses have been viewed among the various races of the earth in ancient and modern times. the chaldaeans were careful observers of eclipses, and berosus believed that when the moon was obscured she turned to us her dark side. anaximenes said that her mouth was stopped. plato, aristotle, the stoics, and the mathematicians said that she fell into conjunction with the bright sun. anaxagoras of clazomenae (born b.c. 499) was the first to explain the eclipse of the moon as caused by the shadow of the earth cast by the sun. but he was as one born out of due time. we are all familiar with the use made by students of unfulfilled prophecy of every extraordinary occurrence in nature, such as the sudden appearance of a comet, an earthquake, an eclipse, etc. we know how mysteriously they interpret those simple passages in the bible about the sun being darkened and the moon being turned into blood. if they were not wilfully blind, such facts as are established by the following quotations would open their eyes to the errors in their exegesis. at any rate, they would find their theories anticipated in nearly every particular by those very heathen whom they are wont to pity as so benighted and hopelessly lost. grimm writes: "one of the most terrible phenomena to heathens was an _eclipse_ of the sun or moon, which they associated with a destruction of all things and the end of the world. i may safely assume that the same superstitious notions and practices attend eclipses among nations ancient and modern. the indian belief is that a serpent eats up the sun and moon when they arc eclipsed, or a demon devours them. to this day the hindoos consider that a giant lays hold of the luminaries and tries to swallow them. the chinese call the solar eclipse zhishi (solis devoratio), the lunar yueshi (lunae devoratio), and ascribe them both to the machinations of a dragon. nearly all the populations of northern asia hold the same opinion. the finns of europe, the lithuanians, and the moors in africa, have a similar belief." [286] flammarion says: "among the ancient nations people used to come to the assistance of the moon, by making a confused noise with all kinds of instruments, when it was eclipsed. it is even done now in persia and some parts of china, where they fancy that the moon is fighting with a great dragon, and they think the noise will make him loose his hold and take to flight. among the east indians they have the same belief that when the sun and the moon are eclipsed, a dragon is seizing them, and astronomers who go there to observe eclipses are troubled by the fears of their native attendants, and by their endeavours to get into the water as the best place under the circumstances. in america the idea is that the sun and moon are tired when they are eclipsed. but the more refined greeks believed for a long time that the moon was bewitched, and that the magicians made it descend from heaven to put into the herbs a certain maleficent froth. perhaps the idea of the dragon arose from the ancient custom of calling the places in the heavens at which the eclipses of the moon took place the head and tail of the dragon." [287] sir edward sherburne, in his "annotations upon the _medea_," quaintly says: "of the beating of kettles, basons, and other brazen vessels used by the ancients when the moone was eclipsed (which they did to drown the charms of witches, that the moon might not hear them, and so be drawne from her spheare as they suppos'd), i shall not need to speake, being a thing so generally knowne, a custom continued among the turks to this day; yet i cannot but adde, and wonder at, what joseph scaliger, in his 'annotations upon manilius,' reports out of bonincontrius, an ancient commentator upon the same poet, who affirms that in a town of italy where he lived (within these two centuries of yeares), he saw the same piece of paganisme acted upon the like occasion." [288] another, and more recent writer, also says of these eclipses: "the chinese imagine them to be caused by great dragons trying to devour the sun and moon, and beat drums and brass kettles to make the monsters give up their prey. some of the tribes of american indians speak of the moon as hunted by huge dogs, catching and tearing her till her soft light is reddened and put out by the blood flowing from her wounds. to this day in india the native beats his gong, as the moon passes across the sun's face, and it is not so very long ago that in europe both eclipses and rushing comets were thought to show that troubles were near." [289] respecting china, a modern traveller speaks in not very complimentary language. "if there is on the earth a nation absorbed by the affairs of this world and who trouble themselves little about what passes among the heavenly bodies, it is assuredly the chinese. the most erudite among them just know of the existence of astronomy, or, as they call it, _tienwen_--'celestial literature.' but they are ignorant of the simplest principles of the science, and those who regard an eclipse as a natural phenomenon, instead of a dragon who is seeking to devour the sun and moon, are enlightened indeed." [290] this statement ought to be taken with more than one _granum salis_, especially as mrs. somerville assures us that the chinese had made advances in the science of astronomy 1,100 years before the christian era, and also adds: "their whole chronology is founded on the observation of eclipses, which prove the existence of that empire for more than 4,700 years." [291] with this discount the charge against chinese ignorance may be passed. "a mongolian myth makes out that the gods determined to punish arakho for his misdeeds, but he hid so effectually that no one could find out his lurking-place. they therefore asked the _sun_, who gave an unsatisfactory answer; but when they asked the _moon_, she disclosed his whereabouts. so arakho was dragged forth and chastised; in revenge of which he _pursues both sun and moon_, and whenever he comes to hand-grips with one of them, _an eclipse occurs_. to help the lights of heaven in their sad plight, a _tremendous uproar_ is made with musical and other instruments, till arakho is scared away." [292] "referring to the shoo, pt. iii., bk. iv., parag. 4, we find this sentence: 'on the first day of the last month of autumn the sun and moon did not meet harmoniously in fang.'" [293] in less euphemistic phrase, the sun and moon were _crossed_. dr. wells williams describes an interesting scene. "in the middle of the sixth moon lanterns are hung from the top of a pole placed on the highest part of the house. a single small lantern is deemed sufficient, but if the night be calm, a greater display is made by some householders, and especially in boats, by exhibiting coloured glass lamps arranged in various ways. the illumination of a city like canton, when seen from a high spot, is made still more brilliant by the moving boats on the river. on one of these festivals at canton, an almost total eclipse of the moon called out the entire population, each one carrying something with which to make a noise, kettles, pans, sticks, drums, gongs, guns, crackers, and what not to frighten away the dragon of the sky from his hideous feast. the advancing shadow gradually caused the myriads of lanterns to show more and more distinctly, and started a still increasing clamour, till the darkness and the noise were both at their climax. silence gradually resumed its sway as the moon recovered her fulness." [294] on another page dr. williams tells us that "some clouds having on one occasion covered the sky, so that an eclipse could not be seen, the courtiers joyfully repaired to the emperor to felicitate him that heaven, touched by his virtues, had spared him the pain of witnessing the 'eating of the sun.'" [295] the following passage from doolittle's work on the chinese is sufficiently interesting to be given without abridgment: "it is a part of the official duties of mandarins to 'save the sun and moon when eclipsed.' prospective eclipses are never noticed in the imperial calendar, published originally at peking, and republished in the provinces. the imperial astronomers at the capital, a considerable time previous to a visible eclipse, inform the board of rites of its month, day, and hour. these officers send this intelligence to the viceroys or governors of the eighteen provinces of the empire. these, in turn, communicate the information to all the principal subordinate officers in the provinces of the civil and the military grade. the officers make arrangements to save the moon or the sun at the appointed time. on the day of the eclipse, or on the day preceding it, some of them put up a written notice in or near their yamuns, for the information of the public. "the chinese generally have no rational idea of the cause of eclipses. the common explanation is that the sun or the moon has experienced some disaster. some even affirm that the object eclipsed is being devoured by an immense ravenous monster. this is the most popular sentiment in fuhchau in regard to the procuring cause of eclipses. all look upon the object eclipsed with wonder. many are filled with apprehension and terror. some of the common people, as well as mandarins generally, enter upon some course of action, the express object of which is to save the luminary from its dire calamity, or to rescue it from the jaws of its greedy enemy. mandarins must act officially, and in virtue of their being officers of government. neither they nor the people seem to regard the immense distance of the celestial object as at all interfering with the success of their efforts. the various obstacles which ought apparently to deter them from attempting to save the object eclipsed do not seem to have occurred to them at all, or, if they have occurred, do not appear to be sufficient to cause them to desist from prosecuting their laudable endeavours. the high mandarins procure the aid of priests of the taoist sect at their yamuns. these place an incense censer and two large candlesticks for holding red candles or tapers on a table in the principal reception room of the mandarin, or in the open space in front of it under the open heavens. "at the commencement of the eclipse the tapers are lighted, and soon after the mandarin enters, dressed in his official robes. taking some sticks of lighted incense in both hands, he makes his obeisance before or facing the table, raising and depressing the incense two or three times, according to the established fashion, before it is placed in the censer. or sometimes the incense is lighted and put in the censer by one of the priests employed. the officer proceeds to perform the high ceremony of kneeling down three times, and knocking his head on the ground nine times. after this he rises from his knees. large gongs and drums near by are now beaten as loudly as possible. the priests begin to march slowly around the tables, reciting formulas, etc., which marching they keep up, with more or less intermissions, until the eclipse has passed off. "a uniform result always follows these official efforts to save the sun and the moon. _they are invariably successful_. there is not a single instance recorded in the annals of the empire when the measures prescribed in instructions from the emperor's astronomers at peking, and correctly carried out in the provinces by the mandarins, have not resulted in a complete rescue of the object eclipsed. doubtless the vast majority of the common people in china believe that the burning of tapers and incense, the prostration of the mandarins, the beating of the gongs and drums, and the recitations on the part of the priests, are signally efficacious in driving away the voracious monster. they observe that the sun or the moon does not seem to be permanently injured by the attacks of its celestial enemy, although a half or nearly the whole appeared to have been swallowed up. this happy result is doubtless viewed with much complacency by the parties engaged to bring it about. the lower classes generally leave the saving of the sun or the moon, when eclipsed, to their mandarins, as it is a part of their official business. some of the people occasionally beat in their houses a winnowing instrument, made of bamboo splints, on the occasion of an eclipse. this gives out a loud noise. some venture to assert that the din of this instrument penetrates the clouds as high as the very temple of heaven itself! the sailors connected with junks at this place, on the recurrence of a lunar eclipse, always contribute their aid to rescue the moon by beating their gongs in a most deafening manner. "without doubt, most of the mandarins understand the real occasion of eclipses, or, at least, they have the sense to perceive that nothing which they can do will have any effect upon the object eclipsed, or the cause which produces the phenomenon; but they have no optional course in regard to the matter. they must comply with established custom, and with the understood will of their superiors. the imperial astronomers, having been taught the principles of astronomy and the causes which produce eclipses by the roman catholic missionaries a long while since, of course know that the common sentiments on the subject are as absurd as the common customs relating to it are useless. but the emperor and his cabinet cling to ancient practices, notwithstanding the clearest evidences of their false and irrational character." [296] mr. herbert giles accounts for this chinese obtuseness, or, as some would have it, opacity, in much the same way. under the head of _natural phenomena_, he writes: "it is a question of more than ordinary interest to those who regard the chinese people as a worthy object of study, what are the speculations of the working and uneducated classes concerning such natural phenomena as it is quite impossible for them to ignore? their theory of eclipses is well known, foreign ears being periodically stunned by the gonging of an excited crowd of natives, who are endeavouring with hideous noises to prevent some imaginary dog of colossal proportions from banqueting, as the case may be, upon the sun or moon. at such laughable exhibitions of native ignorance it will be observed there is always a fair sprinkling of well-to-do, educated persons, who not only ought to know better themselves, but should be making some effort to enlighten their less fortunate countrymen instead of joining in the din. such a hold, however, has superstition on the minds of the best informed in a chinese community, that under the influence of any real or supposed danger, philosophy and confucius are scattered to the four winds of heaven, and the proudest disciple of the master proves himself after all but a man." [297] no doubt mr. doolittle and mr. giles are both right: custom and superstition form a twisted rope which pinions the popular mind. but there is yet another strand to be mentioned which makes the bond a threefold cord which it will take some time to break. _prescriptive right_ requires that the official or cultured class in china, answering to the clerical caste elsewhere, should keep the other classes in ignorance; because, if science and religion are fellow-helpers, science and superstition can never dwell together, and the downfall of superstition in china would be the destruction of imperial despotism and magisterial tyranny. "sirs, ye know that by this craft we have our wealth. but this paul says that they be no gods, which are made with hands: so that our craft is in danger to be set at nought. great is diana of the ephesians!" the mandarins know why they encourage the mechanics and merchants to save the moon. we once met a good story in reading one of jean astruc's medical works. "theodore de henry, of paris, coming one time into the church of st. dionis, he fell prostrate at the foot of the statue of charles the eighth, as in a sudden fit of devotion. when being told by one of the monks that was not the image of any saint, he replied, he was not ignorant of that, but was willing to pay a grateful acknowledgment to the memory of that prince who had brought the _morbus gallicus_ into france, by which he had made his own fortune." herein lies the secret of half of the hypocrisy of the world. thank god! the world moves; and the millennium of truth is at hand. the literature of china is, happily, not all linsey-woolsey. the following sample is of the finest silk, worthy to adorn the purest saint. "ming ti of the house of wei. "reigned 227-239 a.d. "_on an eclipse.--a rescript_. we have heard that if a sovereign is remiss in government, heaven terrifies him by calamities and strange portents. these are divine reprimands sent to recall him to a sense of duty. thus, partial eclipses of the sun and moon are manifest warnings that the rod of empire is not wielded aright. ever since we ascended the throne, our inability to continue the glorious traditions of our departed ancestors and carry on the great work of civilization, has now culminated in a warning message from on high. it therefore behoves us to issue commands for personal reformation, in order to avert the impending calamity. "but the relations of heaven with man are those of a father and son; and a father about to chastise his son would not be deterred were the latter to present him with a dish of meat. we do not therefore consider it part of our duty to act in accordance with certain memorials advising that the prime minister and chief astronomer be instructed to offer up sacrifices on this occasion. do ye, governors of districts and other high officers of state, seek rather to rectify your own hearts; and if any one can devise means to make up for our shortcomings, let him submit his proposals to the throne." [298] the writer of that was "not far from the kingdom of god." father borri, in his account of cochin china, describes the effect of a lunar eclipse upon several scholars in the city of nuoecman in the province of pulucambi. "i showed them that the circle of the moon, on that side the eclipse began, was not so perfect as it should be, and soon after all the moon being darkened, they perceived the truth of my prediction. the commander and all of them being astonished, presently sent to give notice of it to all the ward, and spread the news of the eclipse throughout the city, that every man might go out to make the usual noise in favour of the moon; giving out everywhere that there were no such men as the fathers, whose doctrine and books could not fail being true, since they had so exactly foretold the eclipse, which their learned men had taken no notice of; and therefore, in performance of his promise, the commander with all his family became christians, as did many more of his ward, with some of the most learned men of the city and others of note." [299] in no unkind spirit we cannot refrain from noticing, what will strike every reader, how ready divines of all denominations are to turn the teachings of science to their own account in the propagation of their faith. it would have been seemlier for theologians in all ages, if their attitude towards physical inquirers had been less hostile; they would then have made converts through eclipses with a better grace. they would, moreover, have prevented the alienation of many of their truest friends. captain beeckman gives an amusing story of an eclipse in cantongee, in the island of borneo, on the 10th of november, 1714. "we sat very merry till about eight at night, when, preparing to go to bed, we heard all on a sudden a most terrible outcry, mixed with squealing, halloing, whooping, firing of guns, ringing and clattering of gongs or brass pans, that we were greatly startled, imagining nothing less but that the city was surprised by the rebels. i ran immediately to the door, where i found my old fat landlord roaring and whooping like a man raving mad. this increased my astonishment, and the noise was so great that i could neither be heard, nor get an answer to know what the matter was. at last i cried as loud as possibly i could to the old man to know the reason of this sad confusion and outcry, who in a great fright pointed up to the heavens, and said, '_look there; see, the devil is eating up the moon_!' i was very glad to hear that there was no other cause of their fright but their own ignorance. it was only a great eclipse of the moon. i smiled, and told him that there was no danger; that in a little while the moon would be as well as ever. whereupon, catching fast hold of my sleeve, as i was returning to bed, he asked me if i was sure on't (for they take us white men to be very wise in those matters). i assured him i was, and that we always knew many years before when such a thing would happen; that it proceeded from a natural cause, according to the course and motion of the sun and moon, and that the devil had no hand in it. after the eclipse was over, the old man, being not a little rejoiced, took me in." [300] another writer speaks of the east india islands in general. "there is to this day hardly a country of the archipelago in which the ceremony of frightening the supposed monster from his attack on the luminary is not performed. this consists in shouting, in striking gongs, but, above all, in striking their stampers against the sides of the wooden mortars which are used by the villagers in husking their corn." [301] that the indians of the continent regard the phenomena in question with more than ordinary interest is evinced by their resorting in large numbers to benares, the ancient seat of brahminical learning and religion, on every occasion of an eclipse of the moon. lord kames reminds us that among the greeks "an eclipse being held a prognostic given by the gods of some grievous calamity, anaxagoras was accused of atheism for attempting to explain the eclipse of the moon by natural causes: he was thrown into prison, and with difficulty was relieved by the influence of pericles. protagoras was banished athens for maintaining the same doctrine." [302] thucydides tells us that an eclipse of the moon delayed the departure of the expedition against the syracusans. "the preparations were made, and they were on the point of sailing, when the moon, being just then at the full, was eclipsed. the mass of the army was greatly moved, and called upon the generals to remain. nicias himself, who was too much under the influence of divination and omens, refused even to discuss the question of their removal until they had remained thrice nine days, as the soothsayers prescribed. this was the reason why the departure of the athenians was finally delayed." [303] "at any eclipse of the moone, the romanes would take their brazen pots and pannes, and beat them, lifting up many torches and linckes lighted, and firebrandes into the aire, thinking by these superstitious meanes to reclaime the moone to her light." [304] _the constantinople messenger_ of december 23rd, 1880, contains the following:--"mgr. mamarbasci, who represents the syrian patriarch at the porte, and who resides in st. peter's monastery in galata, underwent a singular experience on the evening of the last eclipse of the moon. hearing a great noise outside of the firing of revolvers and pistols, he opened his window to see what could be the cause of so much waste of powder. being a native of aleppo, he was at no loss to understand the cause of the disturbance as soon as he cast his eye on the heavens, and he therefore immediately withdrew his head from the window again. hardly had he done so, however, ere a ball smashed the glass into a thousand pieces. rising from the seat into which he had but just sat down, he perceived a conical ball on the floor of his room, which there is every reason to believe would have killed him on the spot had he remained a moment longer on the spot he had just quitted. from the yard of the mosque of arab-djami, which is in front of the prelate's window, the bullet had, it appears, been fired with the intention of frightening the dragon or bear which, according to oriental superstition, lies in wait to devour the moon at its eclipse. it is a fortunate circumstance that the syrian ecclesiastic escaped scathless from the snares laid to destroy the celestial dragon." [305] in the _edda_, an ancient collection of scandinavian poetry, embodying the national mythology, managarmer is the monster who sometimes swallows up the moon, and stains the heaven and the air with blood. "here," says m. mallett, "we have the cause of eclipses; and it is upon this very ancient opinion that the general practice is founded, of making noises at that time, to fright away the monster, who would otherwise devour the two great luminaries." [306] of the germans, grimm says:--"in a lighted candle, if a piece of the wick gets half detached and makes it burn away too fast, they say 'a _wolf_ (as well as a thief) is in the candle'; this too is like the wolf devouring the sun or moon. eclipses of sun or moon have been a terror to many heathen nations; the incipient and increasing obscuration of the luminous orb marks for them the moment when the gaping jaws of the wolf threaten to devour it, and they think by loud cries to bring it succour." [307] and again:--"the personality of the sun and moon shows itself moreover in a fiction that has well-nigh gone the round of the world. these two, in their unceasing unflagging career through the void of heaven, appear to be in flight, avoiding some pursuer. a pair of wolves are on their track, _sköll_ dogging the steps of the sun, _hati_ of the moon: they come of a giant race, the mightiest of whom, mânagarmr (moon-dog), apparently but another name for hati, is sure some day to _overtake and swallow the moon_." [308] francis osborn, whose _advice_ contains, in the opinion of hallam, "a considerable sprinkling of sound sense and observation," thus counsels his son: "imitate not the wild irish or welch, who, during eclipses, run about beating kettles and pans, thinking their clamour and vexations available to the assistance of the higher orbs." [309] "in eclipses of the moon, the greenlanders carry boxes and kettles to the roofs of their houses, and beat on them as hard as they can." [310] with the californian indians, "on an eclipse, all is consternation. they congregate and sing, as some say to appease, and others to frighten, the evil spirits. they believe that the devils are eating up the luminary, and they do not cease until it comes forth in its wonted splendour." [311] among certain indian tribes "dogs were supposed to stand in some peculiar relation to the moon, probably because they howl at it, and run at night; uncanny practices which have cost them dear in reputation. the custom prevailed among tribes so widely asunder as peruvians, tupis, creeks, iroquois, algonkins, and greenland eskimos, to thrash the curs most soundly during an eclipse. the creeks explained this by saying that the big dog was swallowing the sun, and that by whipping the little ones they could make him desist. what the big dog was they were not prepared to say. we know. it was the night goddess, represented by the dog, who was thus shrouding the world at midday." [312] it is well known that columbus found his acquaintance with the calculations of astronomy of great practical value. for when, during his last expedition, he was reduced to famine by the inhabitants of the newly discovered continent, who kept him and his companions prisoners, he, aware that an eclipse was at hand, threatened to deprive them of the light of the moon, if they did not forthwith bring him provisions. at first they did not care; but when the moon disappeared, they brought abundance of supplies, with much entreaty of pardon. this occurred on the 1st day of march, 1504, a date which modern tables of lunar eclipses may fully verify. "in the mexican mythology we read of the woman serpent, or the moon, devoured by the sun, a myth probably descriptive of the changes in the phases of the moon." [313] more probably this myth referred to the moon's eclipse; for bradford tells us that "the mexicans believed when there was an eclipse of the sun or moon, that one of those bodies was being devoured by the other. the peruvians believed these phenomena portended some great calamity; that the eclipsed body was sick and about to die, in which case the world would perish. as soon as an eclipse commenced, they made a dreadful noise with their musical instruments; they struck their dogs and made them howl, in the hope that the moon, which they believed had an affection for those animals in consequence of some signal service which they had rendered her, would have pity on their cries. the araucanians called eclipses the 'deaths' of the sun and moon." [314] in aglio we are told of the mexicans that "in the year of five rabbits, or in 1510, there was an eclipse of the sun; they take no account of the eclipses of the moon, but only of those of the sun; for they say that the sun devours the moon when an eclipse of the moon takes place." [315] "the tlascaltecs, regarding the sun and the moon as husband and wife, believed eclipses to be domestic quarrels. ribas tells how the sinaloas held that the moon in an eclipse was darkened with the dust of battle. her enemy had come upon her, and a terrible fight, big with consequence to those on earth, went on in heaven. in wild excitement the people beat on the sides of their houses, encouraging the moon, and shooting flights of arrows up into the sky to distract her adversary. much the same as this was also done by certain californians." [316] "at a lunar eclipse the orinoko indians seized their hoes and laboured with exemplary vigour on their growing corn, saying the moon was veiling herself in anger at their habitual laziness." [317] the umbrated moon did good in this way: as many of us remember the beautiful comet of 1858 did good, when it frightened some trembling londoners into a speedy settlement of old debts, in anticipation of the final account. ellis says of the tahitians: "an eclipse of the moon filled them with dismay; they supposed the planet was _natua_, or under the influence of the spell of some evil spirit that was destroying it. hence they repaired to the temple, and offered prayers for the moon's release. some imagined that on an eclipse, the sun and moon were swallowed by the god which they had by neglect offended. liberal presents were offered, which were supposed to induce the god to abate his anger, and eject the luminaries of day and night from his stomach." [318] the tongans or friendly islanders have a notion that the earth's surface is flat, that the sun and moon "pass through the sky and come back some way, they know not how. when the moon is eclipsed, they attribute the phenomenon to a thick cloud passing over it: the same with the sun." [319] in the hervey islands, the common exclamation during an eclipse is, "alas! a divinity has devoured the moon!" finally, to close this chapter where it commenced, in chaldaea, the cradle of _star-reading_, sir austen henry layard says: "i gained, as other travellers have done before me, some credit for wisdom and superhuman knowledge by predicting, through the aid of an almanack, a partial eclipse of the moon. it duly took place, to the great dismay of my guests, who well-nigh knocked out the bottoms of all my kitchen utensils in their endeavour to frighten away the jins who had thus laid hold of the planet. the common notion amongst ignorant mahometans is, that an eclipse is caused by some evil spirit catching hold of the sun or moon. on such occasions, in eastern towns, the whole population assembles with pots, pans, and other equally rude instruments of music, and, with the aid of their lungs, make a din and turmoil which might suffice to drive away a whole army of evil spirits, even at so great a distance." [320] we have reached three general conclusions. _first_, when the moon is occulted by the earth it is believed to be devoured by some evil demon, or by wolves or dogs. this is the superstitious vagary of the hindoos, the chinese, asiatics generally, europeans, africans, americans, and polynesians. _secondly_, a lunar eclipse is the precursor of some dreadful calamity to the inhabitants of the earth. this notion is also traceable in every quarter of the globe. and _thirdly_, during the obscuration the light of the moon is reddened, and at last extinguished, by the blood which flows from its wounds; which belief originates with the _edda_, and obtains in the western world. students of sacred prophecy may still elect to deem these occurrences that are purely natural as of supernatural significance, and may risk the interests of true religion in their insane disregard of science; but the truth will remain, in spite of their misconceptions, that eclipses of the moon have no concern with the moral destiny of mankind. iv. lunar influences. the superficies of the earth being twice seven times that of the moon, what an influence the earth must exercise over its satellite! we may be unable to describe this influence in all of its effects; but we may observe its existence in some of its apparent signs. the moon not only turns while we turn, but its rotations on its axis keep exact time with its revolutions round our globe; it accompanies us as we encircle the sun, facing us all the while, never turning its back upon us; it waits on us like a link-bearer, or lackey; is our admiring boswell, living and moving and having its being in the equability it derives from attending its illustrious master. an african sage once illustrated this philosophical principle of the greater controlling the less, by the following fine conundrum. "why does the dog waggle his tail?" this problem, being beyond his auditors, was given up. the sage made answer, "because the dog is bigger than the tail; else the tail would waggle the dog." it is alarming to contemplate the effect which the moon might have upon our august earth, if it were fourteen times larger instead of fourteen times smaller in extent of surface. as it is, luna's influences are so many and so mighty, that we will require considerable space merely to set them in order, and to substantiate them with a few facts. we believe that most, if not all, of them, are the offspring of superstition; but we shall none the less find them in every land, in every age. in the nineteenth century as well as in the dark ages, in london as well as in the ends of the earth, men of all colours and clans are found turning their faces heavenward to read their duty and destiny in the oracular face of the moon. many consult their almanacks more than their bibles, and follow the lunar phases as their sole interpretation of the will of god. among those who worship the moon as a personal deity, whether beneficent or malign, its influences are of course welcomed or dreaded as the manifestations of supreme power. in south america, for example, "the botocudos are said to give the highest rank among the heavenly bodies to taru, the moon, as causing thunder and lightning and the failure of vegetables and fruits, and as even sometimes falling to the earth, whereby many men die." [321] so, in africa, the emotions of the worshippers vary with their subjective views of their god. "negro tribes seem almost universally to greet the new moon, whether in delight or disgust. the guinea people fling themselves about with droll gestures, and pretend to throw firebrands at it; the ashango men behold it with superstitious fear; the fetu negroes jumped thrice into the air with hands together and gave thanks." [322] but even amongst men who neither personify nor deify the moon, its dominion over the air, earth, and sea, over human health and happiness, is held to be so all-important, that if the maker and monarch of all were jealous, as men count jealousy, such lunar fears and affections would be unpardonable sin. let us proceed to particulars, rising from inorganic nature to beings endowed with the highest instruments of life. even the mineral kingdom is supposed to be swayed by the moon; for in scotland, martin says, "the natives told me, that the rock on the east side of harries, in the sound of island glass, hath a vacuity near the front, on the north-west side of the sound; in which they say there is a stone that they call the _lunar stone_, which advances and retires according to the increase and decrease of the moon." [323] an ancient instance of belief in lunar influence upon inanimate matter is cited by plutarch. "_euthydemus_ of _sunium_ feasted us upon a time at his house, and set before us a wilde bore, of such bignesse, that all wee at the table wondred thereat; but he told us that there was another brought unto him farre greater; mary naught it was, and corrupted in the carriage, by the beames of the moone-shine; whereof he made great doubt and question, how it should come to passe; for that he could not conceive, nor see any reason, but that the sunne should rather corrupt flesh, being as it was, farre hotter than the moone." [324] pliny said that the moon corrupted carcases of animals exposed to its malefic rays. as with the lifeless, so with the living. "the inhabitants of st. kilda observe that when the april moon goes far in may, the fowls are ten or twelve days later in laying their eggs than ordinarily they use to be." [325] the influence of the moon upon vegetation is an opinion hoary with age. in the _zend-avesta_ we read, "and when the light of the moon waxes warmer, golden-hued plants grow on from the earth during the spring." [326] an old english author writes:- "sowe peason and beanes, in the wane of the moone, who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soone that they with the planet may rest and arise, and flourish, with bearing most plentiful wise." [327] cucumbers, radishes, turnips, leeks, lilies, horseradish, saffron, and other plants, are said to increase during the fulness of the moon; but onions, on the contrary, are much larger and are better nourished during the decline. [328] to recur to plutarch is to find him saying: "the moone showeth her power most evidently even in those bodies, which have neither sense nor lively breath; for carpenters reject the timber of trees fallen in the ful-moone, as being soft and tender, subject also to the worme and putrifaction, and that quickly, by reason of excessive moisture; husbandmen, likewise, make haste to gather up their wheat and other grain from the threshing-floore, in the wane of the moone, and toward the end of the month, that being hardened thus with drinesse, the heape in the garner may keepe the better from being fustie, and continue the longer; whereas corne which is inned and laied up at the full of the moone, by reason of the softnesse and over-much moisture, of all other, doth most cracke and burst. it is commonly said also, that if a leaven be laied in the ful-moone, the paste will rise and take leaven better." [329] still in cornwall the people gather all their medicinal plants when the moon is of a certain age; which practice is very probably a relic of druidical superstition. "in some parts it is a prevalent belief that the growth of mushrooms is influenced by the changes of the moon, and in essex the subjoined rule is often scrupulously adhered to:- "when the moon is at the full, mushrooms you may freely pull but when the moon is on the wane, wait ere you think to pluck again.'" [330] henderson says, "i may, perhaps, mention here, that apples are said to 'shrump up' in devonshire if picked when the moon is waning." [331] a writer of miscellaneous literature tells us that "it has been demonstrated that moonlight has the power, _per se_, of awakening the sensitive plant, and consequently that it possesses an influence of some kind on vegetation. it is true that the influence is very feeble, compared with that of the sun; but the action is established, and the question remains, what is the practical value of the fact? 'it will immediately,' says professor lindley, 'occur to the reader that possibly the screens which are drawn down over hothouses at night, to prevent loss of heat by radiation, may produce some unappreciated injury by cutting off the rays of the moon, which nature intended to fall upon plants as much as the rays of the sun." [332] the same author says elsewhere, "columella, cato, vitruvius, and pliny, all had their notions of the advantages of cutting timber at certain ages of the moon; a piece of mummery which is still preserved in the royal ordonnances of france to the conservators of the forests, who are directed to fell oaks only 'in the wane of the moon' and 'when the wind is at north.'" [333] of trees, astrologers affirm that the moon rules the palm tree (which the ancients say "sends forth a twig every time the moon rises") and all plants, trees, and herbs that are juicy and full of sap. [334] "a description of the new netherlands, written about 1650, remarks that the savages of that land 'ascribe great influence to the moon over crops.' this venerable superstition, common to all races, still lingers among our own farmers, many of whom continue to observe 'the signs of the moon' in sowing grain, setting out trees, cutting timber, and other rural avocations." [335] what is here said of the new world applies also to the old; for in england a current expression in huntingdonshire is "a dark christmas sends a fine harvest": dark meaning moonless. of the lunar influence upon the tides, old john lilly writes: "there is nothing thought more admirable, or commendable in the sea, than the ebbing and flowing; and shall the moone, from whom the sea taketh this virtue, be accounted fickle for encreasing and decreasing?" [336] another writer of the sixteenth century says, "the moone is founde, by plaine experience, to beare her greatest stroke uppon the seas, likewise in all things that are moiste, and by consequence in the braines of man." [337] dennys tells us that "the influence exerted by the moon on tides is recognised by the chinese." [338] what some record in prose, others repeat in rhyme. the following is _one_ kind of poetry. "moone changed, keepes closet, three daies as a queene, er she in hir prime, will of any be scene: if great she appereth, it showreth out, if small she appereth, it signifieth drout. at change or at full, come it late, or else soone, maine sea is at highest, at midnight and noone, but yet in the creekes, it is later high flood: through farnesse of running, by reason as good." [339] indirectly, through the influence upon the tides, the moon is concerned in human mortality. "tyde flowing is feared, for many a thing, great danger to such as be sick it doth bring. sea eb, by long ebbing, some respit doth give, and sendeth good comfort, to such as shal live." [340] henderson says, "it is a common belief along the east coast of england, from northumberland to kent, that deaths mostly occur during the falling of the tide." [341] every reader of the inimitable dickens will be reminded here of the death of poor old barkis. "'he's a-going out with the tide,' said mr. peggotty to me, behind his hand. "my eyes were dim, and so were mr. peggotty's; but i repeated in a whisper, 'with the tide?' "'people can't die, along the coast,' said mr. peggotty, 'except when the tide's pretty nigh out. they can't be born, unless it's pretty nigh in-not properly born, till flood. he's a-going out with the tide. it's ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. if he lives till it turns, he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next tide.' "'he's coming to himself,' said peggotty. "mr. peggotty touched me, and whispered with much awe and reverence, 'they are both a-going out fast.' "he now opened his eyes. "i was on the point of asking him if he knew me, when he tried to stretch out his arm, and said to me distinctly, with a pleasant smile,-"'barkis is willin'.' "and, it being low water, he went out with the tide." [342] that the rise and fall of our tides twice a day, with spring and neap tides twice in the lunar month, are the effect of the combined action of the sun and moon, is never called in question. the water under the moon is drawn up from the earth, and the earth is drawn from the water on the opposite side, the consequence of which is two high tides in the two hemispheres at the same hour. the rotation of the earth bringing the same point of the ocean twice under the moon's meridian, once under the upper meridian and once under the lower, each hemisphere has two high tides in the course of the day. the spring tide is caused by the attractive force of the sun and moon acting in conjunction, or in a straight line; and the neap tide is caused by the moon being in quadrature, or when the sun and moon are at right angles to each other. they counteract each other's influence, and our tides arc therefore low. so much is science; but the connection of ebb and flow with life and death is superstition. from a very remote antiquity, in the twilight of natural astrology, a belief arose that changes in the weather were occasioned by the moon. [343] that the notion lives on, and will not soon die, is clear to any one who is conversant with current literature and common folk-lore. even intelligent, well-informed people lend it countenance. professor newcomb, of washington, rightly says: "thus far there is no evidence that the moon directly affects the earth or its inhabitants in any other way than by her attraction, which is so minute as to be entirely insensible except in the ways we have described. a striking illustration of the fallibility of the human judgment when not disciplined by scientific training is afforded by the opinions which have at various times obtained currency respecting a supposed influence of the moon on the weather. neither in the reason of the case nor in observations do we find any real support for such a theory. it must, however, be admitted that opinions of this character are not confined to the uneducated." [344] mr. edward b. tylor holds similar language: "the notion that the weather changes with the moon's quarterings is still held with great vigour in england. that educated people to whom exact weather records are accessible should still find satisfaction in the fanciful lunar rule, is an interesting case of intellectual survival." [345] no marvel that the "heathen chinee" considers lunar observations as forecasting scarcity of provisions he is but of the same blood with his british brother, who takes his tea and sends him opium. "the hakkas (and also many puntis) believe that if in the night of the fifteenth day of the eighth month (mid autumn) there are clouds obscuring the moon before midnight, it is a sign that oil and salt will become very dear. if, however, there are clouds obscuring the moon after midnight, the price of rice will, it is supposed, undergo a similar change." [346] one of our provincial proverbs is: "so many days old the moon is on michaelmas day, so many floods after." sometimes a proverb is a short saying spoken after long experience; at other times it is a small crystal left after a lengthy evaporation. in certain instances our rural apothegms are sacred relics of extinct but canonized fictions. an equally wise prediction is that if christmas comes during a waxing moon we shall have a very good year; and the nearer to the new moon, the better. but if during a waning moon, a hard year; and the nearer the end of the moon, so much the worse. another sage belief is that the condition of the weather is dependent upon the day of the week upon which the new moon chances to fall. we are told that "dr. forster, of bruges, well known as a meteorologist, declares that by the _journal_ kept by his grandfather, father, and self, ever since 1767, to the present time, whenever the new moon has fallen on a _saturday_, the following _twenty days_ have been wet and windy, in nineteen cases out of twenty." [347] in italy it is said, "if the moon change on a sunday, there will be a flood before the month is out." new moon on monday, or moon-day, is, of course, everywhere held a sign of good weather and luck. that a misty moon is a misfortune to the atmosphere is widely supposed. in scotland it is an agricultural maxim among the canny farmers that- "if the moon shows like a silver shield, you need not be afraid to reap your field but if she rises haloed round, soon we'll tread on deluged ground." [348] others say that a mist is unfavourable only with the new moon, not with the old. "an old moon in a mist is worth gold in a kist (chest) but a new moon's mist will never lack thirst," [349] is a rugged rhyme found in several places. in cornwall the idea is that- "a fog and a small moon bring an easterly wind soon." the east wind, as we know, is dry. two of the shepherd of banbury's rules are: "xii. if mists in the new moon, rain in the old. xiii. if mists in the old, rain in the new moon." [350] one thing is a meteorological certainty: the full moon very frequently clears the sky. but this may be partly accounted for by the fact that a full moon shows the night to be clear, which in the moon's absence might be called cloudy. another observation shows that in proportion to the clearness of the night is its cold. the clouds covering the earth with no thick blanket, it radiates its heat into space. this has given rise to the notion that the moon itself reduces our temperature. it is _cold_ at night without doubt. but the cold moon is so warm when the sun is shining full on its disk that no creature on earth could endure a moment's contact with its surface. the centre of the "pale-faced moon" is hotter than boiling water. this thought may cheer us when "the cold round moon shines deeply down." we may be pardoned if we take with a tincture of scepticism the following statement "native chinese records aver that on the 18th day of the 6th moon, 1590, snow fell one summer night from the midst of the moon. the flakes were like fine willow flowers on shreds of silk." [351] instead of cold, it is more likely that the white moon gives us heat, for from melloni's letter to arago it seems to be already an ascertained fact. having concentrated the lunar rays with a lens of over three feet diameter upon his thermoscopic pile, melloni found that the needle had deviated from 0° 6' to 4° 8', according to the lunar phase. other thermoscopes may give even larger indications; but meanwhile the italian physicist has exploded an error with a spark of science. "another weather guide connected with the moon is, that to see 'the old moon in the arms of the new one' is reckoned a sign of fine weather; and so is the turning up of the horns of the new moon. in this position it is supposed to retain the water, which is imagined to be in it, and which would run out if the horns were turned down." [352] on this novel idea of a lunar bason or saucer, southey writes from "keswick, december 29th, 1828," as follows:--"poor littledale has this day explained the cause of our late rains, which have prevailed for the last six weeks, by a theory which will probably be as new to you as it is to me. 'i have observed,' he says, 'that, when the moon is turned upward, we have fine weather after it; but if it is turned down, then we have a wet season; and the reason i think is, that when it is turned down, it holds no water, like a bason, you know, and then down it all comes.' there, it will be a long while before the march of intellect shall produce a theory as original as this, which i find, upon inquiry, to be the popular opinion here." [353] george eliot has taken notice of this fancy in the burial of "poor old thias bede." "they'll ha' putten thias bede i' the ground afore ye get to the churchyard," said old martin, as his son came up. "it 'ud ha' been better luck if they'd ha' buried him i' the forenoon when the rain was fallin'; there's no likelihoods of a drop now, an' the moon lies like a boat there, dost see? that's a sure sign o' fair weather; there's a many as is false, but that's sure." [354] in dekker's _match me in london_, act i., the king says, "my lord, doe you see this change in the moone? sharp hornes doe threaten windy weather." in the famous ballad of sir patrick spens, concerning whose origin there has been so much discussion, without eliciting any very accurate information, we read: "o ever alack! my master dear, i fear a deadly storm. i saw the new moon late yestreen, wi' the auld moon in her arm and if ye gang to sea, maister, i fear we'll suffer harm." [355] jamieson informs us that "prognostications concerning the weather, during the course of the month, are generally formed by the country people in scotland from the appearance of the _new moon_. it is considered as an almost infallible presage of bad weather, if she _lies sair on her back_, or when her horns are pointed towards the zenith. it is a similar prognostic, when the new moon appears _wi' the auld moon in her arm_, or, in other words, when that part of the moon which is covered with the shadow of the earth is seen through it." [356] the last sentence is a _lapsus calami_. dr. jamieson should have said, when that part of the moon which is turned from the sun is dimly visible through the reflected light of the earth. "at whitby, when the moon is surrounded by a halo with watery clouds, the seamen say that there will be a change of weather, for the 'moon dogs' are about." [357] at ulceby, in lincolnshire, "there is a very prevalent belief amongst sailors and seafaring men that when a large star or planet is seen near the moon, or, as they express it, 'a big star is dogging the moon,' that this is a certain prognostication of wild weather. i have met old sailors having the strongest faith in this prediction, and who have told me that they have verified it by a long course of observation." [358] "some years ago," says a writer from torquay, "an old fisherman of this place told me, on the morning next after a violent gale, that he had foreseen the storm for some time, as he had observed one star ahead of the moon, towing her, and another astern, chasing her. 'i know'd 'twas coming, safe enough.'" [359] the moon was simply in apparent proximity to two stars; but the old devonian descried mischief. the following incident from zulu life will be of interest. "1878. a curious phenomenon occurred 7th january. a bright star appeared near the moon at noonday, the sun shining brightly. _omen_--the natives from this foretold the coming war with the amazulu. intense heat and drought prevailed at this time." [360] hitherto we have reviewed only the imaginary influences of the moon over inanimate nature and what are called irrational beings. we have seen that this potent orb is supposed to affect the lightning and thunder of the air; the rocks and seas, the vegetables and animals of the earth; and generally to govern terrestrial matters in a manner altogether its own. furthermore, we have found these imaginations rooted in all lands, and among men whose culture might have been expected to refuse such fruitless excrescences. when classical authors counsel us to set eggs under the hen at new moon, and to root up trees only when the moon is waning and after mid-day; and when "the wisest, brightest," if not the "meanest of mankind" seriously attributes to the moon the extraction of heat, the furtherance of putrification, the increase of moisture, and the excitement of animal spirits, with the increase of hedges and herbs if cut or set during certain phases of that body, we can but repeat to ourselves the saying, "the best of men are but men at the best." the half, however, has not been told; and we must now pass on to speak of lunar influences upon the birth, health, intellect, and fortune of microcosmical man. in the system of astrology, which professed to interpret the events of human existence by the movements of the stars, the moon was one of the primary planets. as man was looked upon in the light of a microcosm, or world in miniature, so the several parts of his constitution were viewed as but a reproduction in brief of the great parts of the vast organism. creation was a living, intelligent being, whose two eyes were the sun and the moon, whose body was the earth, whose intellect was the ether, whose wings were the heavens. man was an epitome of all this; and as the functions of the less were held to correspond with the functions of the greater, the microcosm with the macrocosm, man's movements could be inferred by first ascertaining the motions of the universe. the moon, having dominion in the twelve "houses" of heaven, through which she passed in the course of the year, her _aspects_ to the other bodies were considered as of prime significance, in indicating benignant or malignant influences upon human life. this system, which was based upon ignorance and superstition, and upheld by arbitrary rules and unreasoning credulity, is so repugnant to all principles of science and common sense, that it would be unworthy of notice, if we did not know that to this day there are educated persons still to be seen poring over old almanacs and peering into the darkness of divination, to read their own fortune or that of their children by the dim light of some lucky or unlucky configuration of the planets with the moon. the wheel of fortune yet revolves, and the despotism of astrology is not dead. the lunar influence is considered supreme in the hour of birth. nay, with some the moon is potential even before birth. in iceland it is said: "if a pregnant woman sit with her face turned towards the moon, her child will be a lunatic." [361] and this imagination obtains at home as well as abroad. we are told that "astrologers ascribe the most powerful influence to the moon on every person, both for success and health, according to her zodiacal and mundane position at birth, and her aspects to other planets. the sensual faculties depend almost entirely on the moon, and as she is aspected so are the moral or immoral tendencies. she has great influence always upon every person's constitution." [362] this is the doctrine of a book published not thirty years ago. another work, issued also in london, says, "cynthia, 'the queen of heaven,' as the ancients termed her, or the moon, the companion of the earth, and chief source of our evening light, is a cold, moist, watery, phlegmatic planet, variable to an extreme, in astrological science; and partaking of good or evil, as she is aspected by good or evil stars. when angular and unafflicted in a nativity, she is the promissory pledge of great success in life and continual good fortune. she produces a full stature, fair, pale complexion, round face, gray eyes, short arms, thick hands and feet, smooth, corpulent, and phlegmatic body. blemishes in the eyes, or a peculiar weakness in the sight, is the result of her being afflicted by the sun. her conjunction, semi-sextile, sextile, or trine, to jupiter, is exceeding fortunate; and she is said by the old astrologers to govern the _brain_, _stomach_, _bowels_, _left eye_ of the male, and _right eye_ of the female. her usual diseases are rheumatism, consumption, palsy, cholic, apoplexy, vertigo, lunacy, scrophula, smallpox, dropsy, etc.; also most diseases peculiar to young children." [363] such teaching is not a whit in advance of plutarch's odd dictum that the moon has a "special hand in the birth of children." if this belief have disciples in london, it is not by any means confined to that city. in sweden great influence is ascribed to the moon, not only in regulating the weather, but as affecting all the affairs of man's daily life. the lower orders, and many of the better sort, will not fell a tree for agricultural purposes in the wane of that orb, lest it should shrink and decay; nor will the housewife then slaughter for her family, lest the meat should shrivel and melt away in the pot. the moon is the domestic deity, whom the household must fear: the fortuna who presides over the daily doings of sublunary mortals. in the matter of birth, we find francis bacon affirming that "the calculation of nativities, fortunes, good or bad hours of business, and the like fatalities, are mere levities that have little in them of certainty and solidity, and may be plainly confuted by physical reasons"; [364] and yet in his natural history he writes: "it may be that children and young cattle that are brought forth in the full of the moon, are stronger and larger than those that are brought forth in the wane." [365] there surely can be no superstition in studying the moon's conjunctions and oppositions if her influence in a nativity have the slightest weight. and this influence is still widely maintained by philosophers who read bacon, as well as by the peasants who read nothing at all. "in cornwall, when a child is born in the interval between an old moon and the first appearance of a new one, it is said that it will never live to reach the age of puberty. hence the saying, 'no moon, no man.' in the same county, too, when a boy is born in the wane of the moon, it is believed that the next birth will be a girl, and vice versa; and it is also commonly said that when a birth takes place on the 'growing of the moon' the next child will be of the same sex." [366] as a natural proceeding, we find that the moon has influence when the child is weaned. caledonian mothers very carefully observe the lunar phases on this account. jamieson tells us that "this superstition, with respect to the fatal influence of a waning moon, seems to have been general in scotland. in angus, it is believed, that, if a child be put from the breast during the waning of the moon, it will decay all the time that the moon continues to wane." [367] so in the heart of europe, "the lithuanian precept to wean boys at a waxing, but girls on a waning moon, no doubt to make the boys sturdy and the girls slim and delicate, is a fair match for the orkney islanders' objection to marrying except with a growing moon, while some even wish for a flowing tide." [368] as to marriage, the ancient greeks considered the day of the full moon the most propitious period for that ceremony. in euripides, clytemnestra having asked agamemnon when he intended to give iphigenia in marriage to achilles, he replies, "when the full moon comes forth with good luck." in pindar, too, this season is preferred. [369] lunar influences over physical health and disease must be a fearful contemplation to those who are of a superstitious turn. there is no malady within the whole realm of pathology which the moon's destroying angel cannot inflict; and from the crown of the head to the sole of the foot the entire man is at the mercy of her beams. we have all seen those disgusting woodcuts to which the following just condemnation refers: "the moon's influence on parts of the human body, as given in some old-fashioned almanacs, is an entire _fallacy_; it is most untrue and absurd, often indecent, and is a discredit to the age we live in." [370] most of these inartistic productions are framed upon the assumption of the old alchymists that the physiological functions were regulated by planetary influence. the sun controlled the heart, the moon the brain, jupiter the lungs, saturn the spleen, mars the liver, venus the kidneys, and mercury the reproductive powers. but even with this distribution among the heavenly bodies the moon was allowed plenipotentiary sway. as in mythology it is the god or goddess of water, so in astrology it is the embodiment of moisture, and therefore rules the humours which circulate throughout the human system. no wonder that phlebotomy prevailed so long as the reign of the moon endured. "this lunar planet," says la martinière, "is damp of itself, but, by the radiation of the sun, is of various temperaments, as follows: in its first quadrant it is warm and damp, at which time it is good to let the blood of sanguine persons; in its second it is warm and dry, at which time it is good to bleed the choleric; in its third quadrant it is cold and moist, and phlegmatic people may be bled; and in its fourth it is cold and dry, at which time it is well to bleed the melancholic." whatever the moon's phase may be, let blood be shed! we are reminded here of that sanguifluous theology, which even christians of a certain temperament seem to enjoy, while they sing of fountains filled with blood: as though a god of love could take delight in the effusion of precious life. la martinière continues, and physicians will make a note of his words: "it is a thing quite necessary to those who meddle with medicine to understand the movement of this planet, in order to discern the causes of sickness. and as the moon is often in conjunction with saturn, many attribute to it apoplexy, paralysis, epilepsy, jaundice, hydropsy, lethargy, catapory, catalepsy, colds, convulsions, trembling of the limbs, etc., etc. i have noticed that this planet has such enormous power over living creatures, that children born at the first quarter of the declining moon are more subject to illness, so that children born when there is no moon, if they live, are weak, delicate, and sickly, or are of little mind or idiots. those who are born under the house of the moon which is cancer, are of a phlegmatic disposition." [371] that the ancient hebrews, greeks, and romans believed in the deleterious influence of the moon on the health of man, is very evident. the talmud refers the words, "though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death" (ps. xxiii. 4) "to him who sleeps in the shadow of the moon." [372] another psalm (cxxi. 6) reads, literally, "by day the sun shall not smite thee, and the moon in the night." in the greek testament we find further proof of this belief. among those who thronged the great teacher (matt. iv. 24) were the seleniaxomenoi (_lunatici_, beza; _i lunatici_, diodati; _les lunatiques_, french version; "those who were lunatick"). the revised version of 1881 reads "epileptic," but that is a comment, not a translation. so again (matt. xvii. 15) we read of a boy who was "lunatick"--seleniaxetai. on which archbishop trench remarks, "of course the word originally, like mania (from mene) and lunaticus, arose from the widespread belief of the evil influence of the moon on the human frame." [373] jerome attributes all this superstition to daemons, of which men were the dupes. "the _lunatics_," he says, "were not really smitten by the moon, but were believed to be so, through the subtlety of the daemons, who by observing the seasons of the moon sought to bring an evil report against the creature, that it might redound to the blasphemy of the creator." [374] demons or no demons, faith in moonstroke is clear enough. pliny was of opinion that the moon induced drowsiness and stupor in those who slept under her beams. galen, in the second century, taught that those who were born when the moon was falciform, or sickle-shaped, were weak and short-lived, while those born during the full moon were vigorous and of long life. he also took notice of the lunar influence in epilepsy [375] of which fearful malady a modern physician writes, "this disease has been known from the earliest antiquity, and is remarkable as being that malady which, even beyond insanity, was made the foundation of the doctrine of possession by evil spirits, alike in the jewish, grecian, and roman philosophy." [376] the terrible disorder was a fact; and evil spirits or the moon had to bear the blame. in modern times the moon is no less the deity of insalutary disaster. of mexico, brinton says: "very different is another aspect of the moon-goddess, and well might the mexicans paint her with two colours. the beneficent dispenser of harvests and offspring, she nevertheless has a portentous and terrific phase. she is also the goddess of the night, the dampness, and the cold; she engenders the miasmatic poisons that rack our bones; she conceals in her mantle the foe who takes us unawares; she rules those vague shapes which fright us in the dim light; the causeless sounds of night or its more oppressive silence are familiar to her; she it is who sends dreams wherein gods and devils have their sport with man, and slumber, the twin brother of the grave." [377] so farther south, "the brazilian mother carefully shielded her infant from the lunar rays, believing that they would produce sickness; the hunting tribes of our own country will not sleep in its light, nor leave their game exposed to its action. we ourselves have not outgrown such words as lunatic, moon-struck, and the like. where did we get these ideas? the philosophical historian of medicine, kurt sprengel, traces them to the primitive and popular medical theories of ancient egypt, in accordance with which all maladies were the effects of the anger of the goddess isis, the moisture, the moon." [378] perhaps dr. brinton's own mexican myth is a better elucidation of this origin of nocturnal evil than that which traces it to egypt. according to an ancient tradition in mexico, "it is said that in the absence of the sun all mankind lingered in darkness. nothing but a human sacrifice could hasten his arrival. then metzli, the moon, led forth one nanahuatl, the leprous, and building a pyre, the victim threw himself in its midst. straightway metzli followed his example, and as she disappeared in the bright flames, the sun rose over the horizon. is not this a reference to the kindling rays of the aurora, in which the dark and baleful night is sacrificed, and in whose light the moon presently fades away, and the sun comes forth?" [379] we venture to think that it is, and that it is nearest to a natural explanation of purely natural effects. coming next to britain, we find that "no prejudice has been more firmly rivetted than the influence of the moon over the human frame, originating perhaps in some superstition more ancient than recorded by the earliest history. the frequent intercourse of scotland with the north may have conspired to disseminate or renew the veneration of a luminary so highly venerated there, in counteracting the more southern ecclesiastical ordinances." [380] forbes leslie surely goes too far, and mixes matters up too much, when he writes: "an ancient belief, adhered to by the ignorant after being denounced and apparently disproved by the learned, is now admitted to be a fact; viz. the influence of the moon in certain diseases. this, from various circumstances, is more apparent in some of the asiatic countries, and may have given rise to the custom which extended into britain, of exposing sick children on the housetops." [381] we know that the _solar_ rays, from the time of hippocrates, the reputed "father of medicine," were believed by the greeks to prolong life; and that the romans built terraces on the tops of their houses called _solaria_, where they enjoyed their solar baths. "levato sole levatur morbus," was one of their medical axioms. but who ever heard of the _lunar_ rays as beneficial? if sick children were exposed on the housetops, it must have been in the daytime; and, unless it were intended as an alterative, it is difficult to see what connection this had with the belief that disease was the product of the lunar beam. besides, is the moon's influence in disease an admitted fact? the "certain diseases" should be specified, and their lunar origin sustained. the following strange superstition is singularly like that interpolated legend in the gospel of john, about the angel troubling the pool of bethesda. in this case the medicinal virtue seems to come with the change of the moon. but in both cases supernatural agency is equally mythical. "a cave in the neighbourhood of dunskey ought also to be mentioned, on account of the great veneration in which it is held by the people. at the change of the moon (which is still considered with superstitious reverence), it is usual to bring, even from a great distance, infirm persons, and particularly ricketty children, whom they often suppose bewitched, to bathe in a stream which pours from the hill, and then dry them in the cave." [382] those who are in danger of apoplexy, or other cerebral disease, through indulgence too freely in various liquids, vinous and spirituous, should cherish bacon's sapient deliverance: "it is like that the brain of man waxeth moister and fuller upon the full of the moon; and therefore it were good for those that have moist brains, and are great drinkers, to take sume of _lignum aloes_, rosemary, frankincense, etc., about the full of the moon. it is like, also, that the humours in men's bodies increase and decrease as the moon doth; and therefore it were good to purge some day or two after the full; for that then the humours will not replenish so soon again." [383] all this sounds so unphilosophical that it is almost incredible that the learned bacon believed what he wrote. darker superstitions, however, still linger in our land. "in staffordshire, it is commonly said, if you want to cure chin-cough, take out the child and let it look at the new moon; lift up its clothes and rub your right hand up and down its stomach, and repeat the following lines (looking steadfastly at the moon, and rubbing at the same time):- 'what i see, may it increase; what i feel, may it decrease; in the name of the father, son, and holy ghost. amen.'" [384] there is a little ambiguity here. what is felt is the child's stomach. but the desire is not that that may decrease, but only the whooping cough, which is _felt_, we take it, by proxy. a lady, writing of the southern county of sussex, says: "a superstition lingering amongst us, worthy of the days of paganism, is that the new may moon, aided by certain charms, has the power of curing scrofulous complaints." [385] as the cutting of hair, finger-nails, and corns has some relation to health and comfort, we may here mention that in devonshire it is said that hair and nails should always be cut in the waning of the moon, thereby beneficial consequences will result. if corns are cut after the full moon, some say that they will gradually disappear. in the _british apollo_ we have the following request for advice: "pray tell your querist if he may rely on what the vulgar say, that when the moon's in her increase, if corns be cut they'll grow apace but if you always do take care after the full your corns to pare, they do insensibly decay and will in time wear quite away. if this be true, pray let me know, and give the reason why 'tis so." [386] the following passage is worth quoting, without any abbreviation, as an excellent summary of wisdom and sense regarding the moon's influence on health: "there is much reason for regarding the moon as a source of evil, yet not that she herself is so, but only the circumstances which attend her. with us it happens that a bright moonlight night is always a cold one. the absence of cloud allows the earth to radiate its heat into space, and the air gradually cools, until the moisture it contained is precipitated in the form of dew, and lies like a thick blanket on the ground to prevent a further cooling. when the quantity of moisture in the air is small, the refrigerating process continues until frost is produced, and many a moonlight night in spring destroys half or even the whole of the fruit of a new season. moonlight, therefore, frequently involves the idea of frigidity. with us, whose climate is comparatively cold, the change from the burning, blasting, or blighting heat of day, or sun-up, to the cold of a clear night, or sun-down, is not very great, but within the tropics the change is enormous. to such sudden vicissitudes in temperature, an indian doctor, in whom i have great confidence, attributes fevers and agues. as it is clear that those persons only, whose business or pleasure obliges them to be out on cloudless nights, suffer from the severe cold produced by the rapid radiation into space of the heat of their own bodies and that of the earth, those who remain at home are not likely to suffer from the effects of the sudden and continued chill. still further, it is clear that people in general will not care to go out during the darkness of a moonless night, unless obliged to do so. consequently few persons have experience of the deleterious influence of starlight nights. but when a bright moon and a hot, close house induce the people to turn out and enjoy the coldness and clearness of night, it is very probable that refrigeration may be followed by severe bodily disease. amongst such a people, the moon would rather be anathematised than adored. one may enjoy half an hour, or perhaps an hour, of moonlight, and yet be blighted or otherwise injured by a whole night of it." [387] in denmark a superstition is current concerning the noxious influences of night. the danes have a kind of elves which they call the "moon folk." "the man is like an old man with a low-crowned hat upon his head; the woman is very beautiful in front, but behind she is hollow, like a dough-trough, and she has a sort of harp on which she plays, and lures young men with it, and then kills them. the man is also an evil being, for if any one comes near him he opens his mouth and breathes upon them, and his breath causes sickness. it is easy to see what this tradition means: it is the damp marsh wind, laden with foul and dangerous odours; and the woman's harp is the wind playing across the marsh rushes at nightfall." [388] it is the queen of the fairies in the _midsummer-night's dream_ who says to the fairy king,- these are the forgeries of jealousy and never, since the middle summer's spring, met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, by pavèd fountain, or by rushy brook, or in the beachèd margent of the sea, to dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, but with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. no night is now with hymn or carol blest: therefore the moon, the governess of floods, pale in her anger, washes all the air, that rheumatic diseases do abound and this same progeny of evils comes from our debate, from our dissension we are their parents and original. it will be thought rashly iconoclastic if we cast the least doubt upon the idea that blindness is caused directly by the light of the moon. so many cases have been adduced that it is considered a settled point. we, however, dare to dispute some of the evidence. for instance "a poor man born in the village _rowdil_, commonly called st. clement's, blind, lost his sight at every change of the moon, which obliged him to keep his bed for a day or two, and then he recovered his sight." [389] if logic would enable us to prove a negative to this statement, we would meet it with simple denial. but we have no hesitation in saying that an investigation into this case would have exonerated the moon of any share in the affliction, and have revealed some other and likely cause. our chief objection to this story is its element of periodicity; and we would require overwhelming testimony to establish even the probability of such a miracle once a month. that permanent injury may accrue to those whose sleeping eyes are exposed all night to the brightness of a full moon is probable enough. but this would take place not because the moon's beams were peculiarly baneful, but because any strong light would have a hurtful effect upon the eyes when fixed for hours in the condition of sleep. we can quite believe that in a dry atmosphere like that of egypt, where ophthalmia is very prevalent on account of constant irritation from the fine sand in the air, the eye, weary with the heat and aridity of the day, would be impaired if uncovered in the air to the rays of the moon. carne's statements are consequently quite credible. he tells us: "the effect of the moonlight on the eyes in this country is singularly injurious; the natives tell you, as i found they also afterwards did in arabia, always to cover your eyes when you sleep in the open air. the moon here really strikes and affects the sight, when you sleep exposed to it, much more than the sun; indeed, the sight of a person who should sleep with his face exposed at night, would soon be utterly impaired or destroyed." [390] for the same reason, that strong light oppresses the slumbering eye, "the seaman in his hammock takes care not to face the full moon, lest he be struck with blindness." [391] nor can we regard the following as "an _extraordinary_ effect of moonlight upon the human subject." in 1863, "a boy, thirteen years of age, residing near peckham rye, was expelled his home by his mother for disobedience. he ran away to a cornfield close by, and, on lying down in the open air, fell asleep. he slept throughout the night, which was a moonlight one. some labourers on their way to work, next morning, seeing the boy apparently asleep, aroused him; the lad opened his eyes, but declared he could not see. he was conveyed home, and medical advice was obtained; the surgeon affirmed that the total loss of sight resulted from sleeping in the moonlight." [392] this was sad enough; but it was antecedently probable. no doubt a boy of thirteen who for disobedience was cast out of home in such a place as london had a hard lot, and went supperless to his open bed. his optic nerves were young and sensitive, and the protracted light so paralysed them that the morning found them closed "in endless night." this was a purely natural result: to admitting it, reason opposes no demur. but we must object, for truth's sake, to the tendency to account for natural consequences by assigning supernatural causes. the moon is no divinity; moonlight is no divine emanation, with a vindictive animus; and those who countenance such silly superstition as that moonstroke is a mysterious, evil agency, are contributing to a polytheism which leads to atheism: for many gods logically means no god at all. another branch of this umbrageous if not fructuous tree of lunar superstition is the moon's influence on human fortune. butler satirizes the visionary who- "with the moon was more familiar than e'er was almanac well-willer (compiler); her secrets understood so clear that some believed he had been there; knew when she was in fittest mood for cutting corns, or letting blood: whether the wane be, or increase, best to set garlick, or sow pease: who first found out the man i' th' moon, that to the ancients was unknown."--_hudibras_. a swiss theologian amusingly describes the superstitious person who reads his fortune in the stars. he, it is said, "will be more afraid of the constellation fires than the flames of his next neighbour's house. he will not open a vein till he has asked leave of the planets. he will not commit his seed to the earth when the soil, but when the moon, requires it. he will have his hair cut when the moon is either in _leo_, that his locks may stare like the lion's shag, or in _aries_, that they may curl like a ram's horn. whatever he would have to grow, he sets about when she is in her increase; but for what he would have made less, he chuses her wane. when the moon is in _taurus_, he never can be persuaded to take physic, lest that animal which chews its cud should make him cast it up again. he will avoid the sea whenever _mars_ is in the midst of heaven, lest that warrior-god should stir up pirates against him. in _taurus_ he will plant his trees, that this sign, which the astrologers are pleased to call _fixed_, may fasten them deep in the earth. if at any time he has a mind to be admitted into the presence of a prince, he will wait till the moon is in conjunction with the sun; for 'tis then the society of an inferior with a superior is salutary and successful." [393] the _new moon_ is considered pre-eminently auspicious for commencements,--for all kinds of building up, and beginning _de novo_. houses are to be erected and moved into; marriages are to be concluded, money counted, hair and nails cut, healing herbs and pure dew gathered, all at the new moon. money counted at that period will be increased. the _full moon_ is the time for pulling down, and thinking of the end of all things. cut your timber, mow your grass, make your hay, not while the sun shines, but while the moon wanes; also stuff your feather-bed then, and so kill the newly plucked feathers completely, and bring them to rest. wash your linen, too, by the waning moon, that the dirt may disappear with the dwindling light. [394] according to one old notion it was deemed unlucky to assume a new dress when the moon was in her decline. so says the earl of northampton: "they forbidde us when the moone is in a fixed signe, to put on a newe garment. why so? because it is lyke that it wyll be too longe in wearing, a small fault about this towne, where garments seldome last till they be payd for. but thyr meaning is, that the garment shall continue long, not in respect of any strength or goodness in the stuffe, but by the durance or disease of him that hath neyther leysure nor liberty to weare it." [395] it is well known that the ancient hebrews held the new moon in religious reverence. the trumpets were blown, solemn sacrifices were offered and festivals held; and the first clay of the lunar month was always holy. in a talmudic compilation, to which dr. farrar has contributed a preface, we find an interesting account of the _blessing the new moon_. "it is a very pious act to bless the moon at the close of the sabbath, when one is dressed in his best attire and perfumed. if the blessing is to be performed on the evening of an ordinary week-day, the best dress is to be worn. according to the kabbalists the blessings upon the moon are not to be said till seven full days after her birth, but, according to later authorities, this may be done after three days. the reason for not performing this monthly service under a roof, but in the open air, is because it is considered as the reception of the presence of the shekinah, and it would not be respectful so to do anywhere but in the open air. it depends very much upon circumstances when and where the new moon is to be consecrated, and also upon one's own predisposition, for authorities differ. we will close these remarks with the conclusion of the kitzur sh'lu on the subject, which, at p. 72, col. 2, runs thus: "when about to sanctify the new moon, one should straighten his feet (as at the shemonah-esreh) and give one glance at the moon before he begins to repeat the ritual blessing, and having commenced it he should not look at her at all. thus should he begin --'in the united name of the holy and blessed one' and his shekinah, through that hidden and consecrated one! and in the name of all israel!' then he is to proceed with the 'form of prayer for the new moon,' word for word, with out haste, but with solemn deliberation, and when he repeats- 'blessed is thy former, blessed is thy maker, blessed is thy possessor, blessed is thy creator,' he is to meditate on the initials of the four divine epithets, which form 'jacob'; for the moon, which is called 'the lesser light,' is his emblem or symbol, and he is also called 'little' (see amos vii. 2). this he is to repeat three times. he is to skip three times while repeating thrice the following sentence, and after repeating three times forwards and backwards: thus (_forwards_)--'fear and dread shall fall upon them by the greatness of thine arm; they shall be as still as a stone'; thus (_backwards_)--'still as a stone may they be; by the greatness of thine arm may fear and dread fall on them'; he then is to say to his neighbour three times, 'peace be unto you,' and the neighbour is to respond three times, 'unto you be peace.' then he is to say three times (very loudly), 'david, the king of israel, liveth and existeth!' and finally, he is to say three times, 'may a good omen and good luck be upon us and upon all israel! amen!'" [396a] that the ancient germans held the moon in similar regard we know from caesar, who, having inquired why ariovistus did not come to an engagement, discovered this to be the reason: "that among the germans it was the custom for their matrons to pronounce from lots and divination, whether it were expedient that the battle should be engaged in or not; that they had said, 'that it was not the will of heaven that the germans should conquer, if they engaged in battle before the new moon.'" [396b] halliwell has reproduced an illustration of british superstition of the same sort. "a very singular divination practised at the period of the harvest moon is thus described in an old chap-book. when you go to bed, place under your pillow a prayer-book open at the part of the matrimonial service 'with this ring i thee wed'; place on it a key, a ring, a flower, and a sprig of willow, a small heart-cake, a crust of bread, and the following cards:--the ten of clubs, nine of hearts, ace of spades, and the ace of diamonds. wrap all these in a thin handkerchief of gauze or muslin, and on getting into bed, cross your hands, and say:- 'luna, every woman's friend, to me thy goodness condescend let me this night in vision see emblems of my destiny.' if you dream of storms, trouble will betide you; if the storm ends in a fine calm, so will your fate; if of a ring or the ace of diamonds, marriage; bread, an industrious life; cake, a prosperous life; flowers, joy; willow, treachery in love; spades, death; diamonds, money; clubs, a foreign land; hearts, illegitimate children; keys, that you will rise to great trust and power, and never know want; birds, that you will have many children; and geese, that you will marry more than once." [397] such ridiculous absurdities would be rejected as apocryphal if young ladies were not still in the habit of placing bits of wedding cake under their pillows in the hope that their dreaming eyes may be enchanted with blissful visions of their future lords. hone tells us that in berkshire, "at the first appearance of a new moon, maidens go into the fields, and, while they look at it, say:- 'new moon, new moon, i hail thee! by all the virtue in thy body. grant this night that i may see he who my true love is to be.' then they return home, firmly believing that before morning their future husbands will appear to them in their dreams." [398] in devonshire also "it is customary for young people, as soon as they see the first new moon after midsummer, to go to a stile, turn their back to it, and say:- 'all hail, new moon, all hail to thee! i prithe, good moon, reveal to me this night who shall my true love be who is he, and what he wears, and what he does all months and years.'" [399] aubrey says the same of the scotch of his day, and the custom is not yet extinct. "in scotland (especially among the highlanders) the women doe make a curtsey to the new moon; i have known one in england doe it, and our english woemen in the country doe retain (some of them) a touch of this gentilisme still, _e.g._:- 'all haile to thee, moon, all haile to thee i prithe, good moon, declare to me, this night, who my husband must be.' this they doe sitting astride on a gate or stile the first evening the new moon appears. in herefordshire, etc., the vulgar people at the prime of the moon say, ''tis a fine moon, god bless her.'" [400] "in ireland, at the new moon, it is not an uncommon practice for people to point with a knife, and after invoking the holy trinity, to say:- 'new moon, true morrow, be true now to me, that i ere the morrow my true love may see.' the knife is then placed under the pillow, and silence strictly observed, lest the charm should be broken." [401] dr. charles mackay quotes from mother bridget's _dream and omen book_ the following prescription for ascertaining the events of futurity. "_first new moon of the year_. on the first new moon in the year take a pint of clear spring water, and infuse into it the _white_ of an egg laid by a _white_ hen, a glass of _white_ wine, three almonds peeled _white_, and a tablespoonful of _white_ rose-water. drink this on going to bed, not making more nor less than three draughts of it; repeating the following verses three several times in a clear distinct voice, but not so loud as to be overheard by anybody:- 'if i dream of water pure before the coming morn, 'tis a sign i shall be poor, and unto wealth not born. if i dream of tasting beer, middling, then, will be my cheer- chequered with the good and bad, sometimes joyful, sometimes sad; but should i dream of drinking wine, wealth and pleasure will be mine. the stronger the drink, the better the cheer- dreams of my destiny, appear, appear!'" [402] the day of the week on which the moon is new or full, is a question that awakens the most anxious concern. in the north of italy wednesday is dreaded for a lunar change, and in the south of france the inauspicious day is friday. [403] in most of our own rural districts friday's new moon is much disliked "friday's moon, come when it wool, it comes too soon." saturday is unlucky for the _new_, and sunday for the _full_ moon. in norfolk it is said:- "saturday's new and sunday's full, never was good, and never wull." an apparently older version of the same weather-saw runs:- "a saturday's change, and a sunday's prime, was nivver a good mune in nea man's time." in worcestershire, a cottager near berrow hill told mr. edwin lees, f.l.s., that as the new moon had fallen on a saturday, there would follow twenty-one days of wind or rain; for "if the moon on a saturday be new or full, there always _was_ rain, and there always _wüll_." one rustic rhyme rehearsed in some places is:- "a saturday moon, if it comes once in seven years, comes once too soon." next to the day, the medium through which the new moon is first beheld, is of vital moment. in staffordshire it is unlucky to see this sight through trees. a correspondent in _notes and queries_ (21st january, 1882) once saw a person almost in tears because she looked on the new moon through her veil, feeling convinced that misfortune would follow. henderson cites a canon to be observed by those who would know what year they would wed. "look at the first new moon of the year through a silk handkerchief which has never been washed. as many moons as you see through the handkerchief (the threads multiplying the vision), so many years will pass ere you are married." [404] hunt tells us, what in fact is widely believed, that "to see the new moon for the first time through glass, is unlucky; you may be certain that you will break glass before that moon is out. i have known persons whose attention has been called to a clear new moon hesitate. 'hev i seed her out o' doors afore?' if not, they will go into the open air, and, if possible, show the moon 'a piece of gold,' or, at all events, turn their money." [405] mrs. latham says: "many of our sussex superstitions are probably of saxon origin; amongst which may be the custom of bowing or curtseying to the new or lady moon, as she is styled, to deprecate bad luck. there is another kindred superstition, that the queen of night will dart malignant rays upon you, if on the first day of her re-appearance you look up to her without money in your pocket. but if you are not fortunate enough to have any there, in order to avert her evil aspect, you must immediately turn head over heels! it is considered unlucky to see the new moon through a window-pane, and i have known a maidservant shut her eyes when closing the shutters lest she should unexpectedly see it through the glass. do not kill your pig until full moon, or the pork will be ruined." [406] in suffolk, also, "it is considered unlucky to kill a pig in the wane of the moon; if it is done, the pork will waste in boiling. i have known the shrinking of bacon in the pot attributed to the fact of the pig having been killed in the moon's decrease; and i have also known the death of poor piggy delayed, or hastened, so as to happen during its increase." [407] the desirability of possessing _silver_ in the pocket, and of turning it over, when the new moon is first seen, is a point of some interest. forbes leslie says, "the ill-luck of having no _silver_ money --coins of other metals being of no avail--when you first see or hail a new moon, is still a common belief from cornwall to caithness, as well as in ireland." [408] and jamieson writes: "another superstition, equally ridiculous and unaccountable, is still regarded by some. they deem it very unlucky to see the new moon for the first time without having _silver_ in one's pocket. copper is of no avail." [409] we venture to think that this is not altogether unaccountable. the moon at night, in a clear sky, reflects a brilliant whiteness. the two hebrew words used of this luminary in the bible, mean "pale light" and "white." "hindooism says that the moon, soma, was turned into a female called chandra--'the white or silvery one.'" [410] the santhals of india call the sun _chando_, which means bright, and is also a name for the moon. now pure silver is of a very white colour and of a strong metallic lustre. it was one of the earliest known metals, and used as money from the remotest times. its whiteness led the ancient astrologers, as it afterwards led the alchemists, to connect it with the moon, and to call it diana and luna, names previously given to the satellite. for artemis, the greek diana, the ephesian craftsmen made silver shrines. the moon became the symbol of silver; and to this day fused nitrate of silver is called _lunar_ caustic. it was natural and easy for superstition to suppose that silver was the moon's own metal; and to imagine that upon the reappearance of the lunar deity or demon, its beams should be propitiated by some argentine possession. we find that silver was exclusively used in the worship of the moon in peru. in a book published in the earlier part of last century, and attributed to daniel defoe, we read; "to see a new moon the first time after her change, on the right hand, or directly before you, betokens the utmost good fortune that month; as to have her on your left, or behind you, so that in turning your head back you happen to see her, foreshows the worst; as also, they say, to be without gold in your pocket at that time is of very bad consequence." [411] the mistake in substituting gold for silver here is easily explained. as among the romans _aes_ meant both copper and money; and among the french _argent_ means both silver and money in general; so in england gold is the common expression for coin of any substance. silver being _money_, the word gold was thus substituted; the generic for the specific. other superstitions besides those above noticed are found in different parts of our enlightened land. denham says, "i once saw an aged matron turn her apron to the new moon to insure good luck for the ensuing month." [412] and halliwell mentions a prayer customary among some persons:- "i see the moon, and the moon sees me. god bless the moon, and god bless me." [413] in devonshire it is lucky to see the new moon over the right, but unlucky to see it over the left shoulder; and to see it straight before is good fortune to the end of the month. "in renfrewshire, if a man's house be burnt during the wane of the moon, it is deemed unlucky. if the same misfortune take place when the moon is waxing, it is viewed as a presage of prosperity. in orkney, also, it is reckoned unlucky to flit, or to remove from one habitation to another, during the waning of the moon." [414] a recent writer tells us that in orkney "there are superstitions likewise associated with the moon. the increase, and full growth, and wane of that satellite are the emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. no business of importance is begun during the moon's wane; if even an animal is killed at that period, the flesh is supposed to be unwholesome. a couple to think of marrying at that time would be regarded as recklessly careless respecting their future happiness old people in some parts of argyllshire were wont to invoke the divine blessing on the moon after the monthly change. the gaelic word for fortune is borrowed from that which denotes the full moon; and a marriage or birth occurring at that period is believed to augur prosperity." [415] kirkmichael, says another writer on the highlands of scotland, hath "its due proportion of that superstition which generally prevails over the highlands. unable to account for the cause, they consider the effects of times and seasons as certain and infallible. the moon in her increase, full growth, and in her wane, are with them the emblems of a rising, flourishing, and declining fortune. at the last period of her revolution they carefully avoid to engage in any business of importance; but the first and the middle they seize with avidity, presaging the most auspicious issue to their undertakings. poor martinus scriblerus never more anxiously watched the blowing of the west wind to secure an heir to his genius, than the love-sick swain and his nymph for the coming of the new moon to be noosed together in matrimony. should the planet happen to be at the height of her splendour when the ceremony is performed, their future life will be a scene of festivity, and all its paths strewed over with rosebuds of delight. but when her tapering horns are turned towards the north, passion becomes frost-bound, and seldom thaws till the genial season again approaches. from the moon they not only draw prognostications of the weather, but according to their creed also discover future events. there they are clearly portrayed, and ingenious illusion never fails in the explanation. the veneration paid to this planet, and the opinion of its influences, are obvious from the meaning still affixed to some words of the gaelic language. in druidic mythology, when the circle of the moon was complete, fortune then promised to be most propitious. agreeably to this idea, _rath_, which signifies in gaelic a wheel or circle, is transferred to signify fortune." [416] forbes leslie writes: "the influence which the moon was supposed to exercise on mankind, as well as on inanimate objects, may be traced in the practice of the druids. it is not yet extinct in scotland; and the moon, in the increase, at the full, and on the wane, are emblems of prosperity, established success, or declining fortune, by which many persons did, and some still do, regulate the period for commencing their most important undertakings." [417] and yet once more, to make the induction most conclusive; we are told that "the canon law anxiously prohibited observance of the moon as regulating the period of marriage; nor was any regard to be paid to certain days of the year for ceremonies. if the lucina of the ancients be identified with diana, it was not unreasonable to court the care of the parturient, by selecting the time deemed most propitious. the strength of the ecclesiastical interdiction does not seem to have prevailed much in scotland. friday, which was consecrated to a northern divinity, has been deemed more favourable for the union. in the southern districts of scotland, and in the orkney islands, the inhabitants preferred the increase of the moon for it. auspicious circumstances were anticipated in other parts, from its celebration at full moon. good fortune depended so much on the increase of that luminary, that nothing important was undertaken during its wane. benefit even accrued to the stores provided during its increase, and its effect in preserving them is still credited." [418] to what, but to this prevalent belief in lunar influence on fortune can shakespeare allude, when romeo swears: "_rom_. lady, by yonder blessed moon i swear, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops- _jul_. oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable." [419] upon the physiological influence of the lunar rays in the generation or aggravation of disease, we have but little to add to what has been already written. it is a topic for a special treatise, and properly belongs to those medical experts whose research and practice in this particular branch of physics qualify them to speak with plenary authority. besides, it has been so wisely handled by dr. forbes winslow, in his admirable monograph on _light_, that inquirers cannot follow a safer guide than his little book affords. dr. winslow accounts for the theory of planetary influence partly by the action of the moon in producing the tides. he says: "astronomers having admitted that the moon was capable of producing this physical effect upon the waters of the ocean, it was not altogether unnatural that the notion should become not only a generally received but a popular one, that the ebb and flow of the tides had a material influence over the bodily functions. the spaniards imagine that all who die of chronic diseases breathe their last during the ebb. southey says, that amongst the wonders of the isles and city of cadiz, which the historian of that city, suares de salazar, enumerates, one is, according to p. labat, that the sick never die there while the tide is rising or at its height, but always during the ebb. he restricts the notion to the isle of leon, but implies that the effect was there believed to take place in diseases of all kinds, acute as well as chronic. 'him fever,' says the negro in the west indies, 'shall go when the water come low; him always come not when the tide high.' the popular notion amongst the negroes appears to be that the ebb and flow of the tides are caused by a '_fever of the sea_,' which rages for six hours, and then intermits for as many more." [420] dr. winslow then subjoins a long list of learned authorities, several of whose writings he subjects to a brief analysis. he disapproves of the presumption that the subject is altogether visionary and utopian; and affirms that it has not always been pursued by competent observers. periodicity is noted as an important symptom in disease; a feature in febrile disturbance which the present writer himself had abundant opportunity of marking and measuring during an epidemic of yellow fever in the city of savannah in the year 1876. this periodicity dr. winslow regards as the foundation of the alleged lunar influence in morbid conditions. some remarkable cases are referred to, which, if the fact of the moon's interference with human functions could be admitted, would go a long way to corroborate and confirm it. the supposed influence of the moon on plants is not passed over, nor the chemical composition of lunar light as a possible evil agency. still considering the matter _sub judice_, dr. winslow then proceeds to the alleged influence of the moon on the insane; a question with which he was pre-eminently competent to cope. after alluding to the support given to the popular belief by poets and philosophers of ancient and modern times, the question of periodicity, or "lucid intervals," is again discussed, this time in its mental aspect, and the hygienic or sanatory influence of light is allowed its meed of consideration. the final result of the investigation is that the matter is held to be purely speculative, and it is esteemed wise to hold in reserve any theory in relation to the subject that may have been formed. with this conclusion we are greatly disappointed. dr. winslow's aid in the inquiry is most valuable, and if he, after his careful review of pathological literature on lunar influence, coupled with his own extended experience, holds the question in abeyance, who will venture upon a decision? we however believe, notwithstanding every existing difficulty, that the subject will be brought into clear light ere long, and all superstition end in accurate science. meanwhile, many, even of the enlightened, will cling to the unforgotten fancy which gave rise to the word _lunatic_, and in cases of mental derangement will moralize with young banks in the _witch of edmonton_ (1658), "when the moon's in the full, then wit's in the wane." moon inhabitation. science having practically diminished the moon's distance, and rendered distinct its elevations and depressions, it is natural for "those obstinate questionings of sense and outward things" to urge the inquiry, _is the moon inhabited_? this question it is easier to ask than to answer. it has been a mooted point for many years, and our wise men of the west seem still disposed to give it up, or, at least, to adjourn its decision for want of evidence. of "guesses at truth" there have been a great multitude, and of dogmatic assertions not a few; but demonstrations are things which do not yet appear. we now take leave to report progress, and give the subject a little ventilation. we do not expect to furnish an ariadne's thread, but we may hope to find some indication of the right way out of this labyrinth of uncertainty. _veritas nihil veretur nisi abscondi_: or, as the german proverb says, "truth creeps not into corners"; its life is the light. but before we advance a single step, we desire to preclude all misunderstanding on one point, by distinctly avowing our conviction that the teachings of christian theology are not at all involved in the issue of this discussion, whatever it may prove. infinite harm has been done by confusing the religion of science with the science of religion. religion _is_ a science, and science is a religion; but they are not identical. philosophy ought to be pious, and piety ought to be philosophical; but philosophy and piety are two quantities and qualities that may dwell apart, though, happily, they may also be found in one nature. each has its own faculties and functions; and in our present investigation, religion has nothing more to do than to shed the influence of reverence, humility, and teachableness over the scientific student as he ponders his problem and works out the truth. in this, and in kindred studies, we may yield without reluctance what a certain professor of religion concedes, and grant without grudging what a certain professor of science demands. dr. james martineau says, "in so far as church belief is still committed to a given kosmogony and natural history of man, it lies open to scientific refutation"; and again, "the whole history of the genesis of things religion must unconditionally surrender to the sciences." [421] in this we willingly concur, for science ought to be, and will be, supreme in its own domain. bishop temple does "not hesitate to ascribe to science a clearer knowledge of the true interpretation of the first chapter of genesis, and to scientific history a truer knowledge of the great historical prophets. science enters into religion, and the believer is bound to recognise its value and make use of its services." [422] then, to quote the professor of science, dr. john tyndall says. "the impregnable position of science may be described in a few words. we claim, and we shall wrest from theology, the entire domain of cosmological theory." [423] we wish the eloquent professor all success. it was not the spirit of primitive christianity, but the spirit of priestly ignorance, intolerance, and despotism, which invaded the territory of natural science; and if those who are its rightful lords can recover the soil, we bid them heartily, god speed! we have been driven to these remarks by a twofold impulse. first, we can never forget the injury that has been inflicted on science by the oppositions of a headless religion; any more than we can forget the injury which has been inflicted on religion by the oppositions of a heartless science. secondly, we have seen this very question of the inhabitation of the planets and satellites rendered a topic of ridicule for thomas paine, and an inviting theme for raillery to others of sophistical spirit, by the way in which it has been foolishly mixed up with sacred or spiritual concerns. surely, the object of god in the creation of our terrestrial race, or the benefits of the death of jesus christ, can have no more to do with the habitability of the moon, than the doctrine of the trinity has to do with the multiplication table and the rule of three, or the hypostatical union with the chemical composition of water and light. having said thus much of compulsion, we return, not as ministers in the temple of religion so much as students in the school of science, to consider with docility the question in dispute, _is the moon inhabited_? three avenues, more or less umbrageous, are open to us; all of which have been entered. they may be named _observation_, _induction_, and _analogy_. the first, if we could pursue it, would explicate the enigma at once. the second, if clear, would satisfy our reason, which, in such a matter, might be equivalent to sight. and the third might conduct us to a shadow which would "prove the substance true." we begin by dealing briefly with the argument from _observation_. here our data are small and our difficulties great. one considerable inconvenience in the inquiry is, of course, the moon's distance. though she is our next-door neighbour in the many-mansioned universe, two hundred and thirty-seven thousand miles are no mere step heavenward. transit across the intervenient space being at present impracticable, we have to derive our most enlarged views of this "spotty globe" from the "optic glass." but this admirable appliance, much as it has revealed, is thus far wholly inadequate to the solution of our mystery. robert hooke, in the seventeenth century, thought that he could construct a telescope with which we might discern the inhabitants of the moon life-size --seeing them as plainly as we see the inhabitants of the earth. but, alas! the sanguine mathematician died in his sleep, and his dream has not yet come true. since hooke's day gigantic instruments have been fitted up, furnished with all the modern improvements which could be supplied through the genius or generosity of such astronomers as joseph fraunhofer and sir william herschel, the third earl of rosse and the fourth duke of northumberland. but all of these worthy men left something to be done by their successors. consequently, not long since, our scientists set to work to increase their artificial eyesight. the rev. mr. webb tells us that "the first 'moon committee' of the british association recommended a power of 1,000." but he discourages us if we anticipate large returns; for he adds: "few indeed are the instruments or the nights that will bear it; but when employed, what will be the result? since increase of magnifying is equivalent to decrease of distance, we shall see the moon as large (though not as distinct) as if it were 240 miles off, and any one can judge what could be made of the grandest building upon earth at that distance." [424] if therefore we are to see the settlement of the matter in the speculum of a telescope, it may be some time before we have done with what guillemin calls "the interesting, almost insoluble question, of the existence of living and organized beings on the surface of the satellite of our little earth." [425] some cynic may interpose with the quotation,- "but optics sharp it needs, i ween, to see what is not to be seen." [426] true, but it remains to be shown that there is nothing to be seen beyond what _we_ see. we are not prepared to deny the existence of everything which our mortal eyes may fail to trace. four hundred years ago all europe believed that to sail in search of a western continent was to wish "to see what is not to be seen"; but a certain christopher columbus went out persuaded of things not seen as yet, and having embarked in faith he landed in sight. the lesson must not be lost upon us. "there are more things in heaven and earth, horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." because we cannot now make out either habitations or habitants on the moon, it does not necessarily follow that the night will never come when, through some mightier medium than any ever yet constructed or conceived, we shall descry, beside mountains and valleys, also peopled plains and populous cities animating the fair features of this beautiful orb. one valuable auxiliary of the telescope, destined to play an important part in lunar discovery, must not be overlooked. mr. norman lockyer says, "with reference to the moon, if we wish to map her correctly, it is now no longer necessary to depend on ordinary eye observations alone; it is perfectly clear that by means of an image of the moon, taken by photography, we are able to fix many points on the lunar surface." [427] with telescopic and photographic lenses in skilled hands, and a wealth of inventive genius in fertile brains, we can afford to wait a long while before we close the debate with a final negative. in the meantime, eyes and glasses giving us no satisfaction, we turn to scientific _induction_. speculation is a kind of mental mirror, that before now has anticipated or supplemented the visions of sense. not being practical astronomers ourselves, we have to follow the counsel of that unknown authority who bids us believe the expert. but expertness being the fruit of experience, we may be puzzled to tell who have attained that rank. we will inquire, however, with due docility, of the oracles of scientific research. it is agreed on all sides that to render the moon habitable by beings at all akin with our own kind, there must be within or upon that body an atmosphere, water, changing seasons, and the alternations of day and night. we know that changes occur in the moon, from cold to heat, and from darkness to light. but the lunar day is as long as 291 of ours; so that each portion of the surface is exposed to, or turned from, the sun for nearly 14 days. this long exposure produces excessive heat, and the long darkness excessive cold. such extremities of temperature are unfavourable to the existence of beings at all like those living upon the earth, especially if the moon be without water and atmosphere. as these two desiderata seem indispensable to lunar inhabitation, we may chiefly consider the question, do these conditions exist? if so, inductive reasoning will lead us to the inference, which subsequent experience will strengthen, that the moon is inhabited like its superior planet. but if not, life on the satellite similar to life on the earth, is altogether improbable, if not absolutely impossible. the replies given to this query will be by no means unanimous. but, for the full understanding of the state of the main question, and to assist us in arriving at some sort of verdict, we will hear several authorities on both sides of the case. the evidence being cumulative, we pursue the chronological order, and begin with la place. he writes: "the lunar atmosphere, if any such exists, is of an extreme rarity, greater even than that which can be produced on the surface of the earth by the best constructed air-pumps. it may be inferred from this that no terrestrial animal could live or respire at the surface of the moon, and that if the moon be inhabited, it must be by animals of another species." [428] this opinion, as sir david brewster points out, is not that the moon has no atmosphere, but that if it have any it is extremely attenuated. mr. russell hind's opinion is similar with respect to water. he says: "earlier selenographists considered the dull, grayish spots to be water, and termed them the lunar seas, bays, and lakes. they arc so called to the present day, though we have strong evidence to show that if water exist at all on the moon, it must be in very small quantity." [429] mr. grant tells us that "the question whether the moon be surrounded by an atmosphere has been much discussed by astronomers. various phenomena are capable of indicating such an atmosphere, but, generally speaking, they are found to be unfavourable to its existence, or at all events they lead to the conclusion that it must be very inconsiderable." [430] humboldt thinks that schroeter's assumptions of a lunar atmosphere and lunar twilight are refuted, and adds: "if, then, the moon is without any gaseous envelope, the entire absence of any diffused light must cause the heavenly bodies, as seen from thence, to appear projected against a sky _almost black_ in the day-time. no undulation of air can there convey sound, song, or speech. the moon, to our imagination, which loves to soar into regions inaccessible to full research, is a desert where silence reigns unbroken." [431] dr. lardner considers it proven "that there does not exist upon the moon an atmosphere capable of reflecting light in any sensible degree," and also believes that "the same physical tests which show the non-existence of an atmosphere of air upon the moon are equally conclusive against an atmosphere of vapour." [432] mr. breen is more emphatic. he writes: "in the want of water and air, the question as to whether this body is inhabited is no longer equivocal. its surface resolves itself into a sterile and inhospitable waste, where the lichen which flourishes amidst the frosts and snows of lapland would quickly wither and die, and where no animal with a drop of blood in its veins could exist." [433] the anonymous author of the essay on the _plurality of worlds_ announces that astronomers are agreed to negative our question without dissent. we shall have to manifest his mistake. his words are: "now this minute examination of the moon's surface being possible, and having been made by many careful and skilful astronomers, what is the conviction which has been conveyed to their minds with regard to the fact of her being the seat of vegetable or animal life? without exception, it would seem, they have all been led to the belief that the moon is not inhabited; that she is, so far as life and organization are concerned, waste and barren, like the streams of lava or of volcanic ashes on the earth, before any vestige of vegetation has been impressed upon them; or like the sands of africa, where no blade of grass finds root." [434] robert chambers says: "it does not appear that our satellite is provided with an atmosphere of the kind found upon earth; neither is there any appearance of water upon the surface. . . . these characteristics of the moon forbid the idea that it can be at present a theatre of life like the earth, and almost seem to declare that it never can become so." [435] schoedler's opinion is concurrent with what has preceded. he writes: "according to the most exact observations it appears that the moon has no atmosphere similar to ours, that on its surface there are no great bodies of water like our seas and oceans, so that the existence of water is doubtful. the whole physical condition of the lunar surface must, therefore, be so different from that of our earth, that beings organized as we are could not exist there." [436] another german author says: "the observations of fraunhofer (1823), brewster and gladstone (1860), huggins and miller, as well as janssen, agree in establishing the complete accordance of the lunar spectrum with that of the sun. in all the various portions of the moon's disk brought under observation, no difference could be perceived in the dark lines of the spectrum, either in respect of their number or relative intensity. from this entire absence of any special absorption lines, it must be concluded that there is no atmosphere in the moon, a conclusion previously arrived at from the circumstance that during an occultation no refraction is perceived on the moon's limb when a star disappears behind the disk." [437] mr. nasmyth follows in the same strain. holding that the moon lacks air, moisture, and temperature, he says, "taking all these adverse conditions into consideration, we are in every respect justified in concluding that there is no possibility of animal or vegetable life existing on the moon, and that our satellite must therefore be regarded as a barren world." [438] a french astronomer holds a like opinion, saying: "there is nothing to show that the moon possesses an atmosphere; and if there was one, it would be perceptible during the occultations of the stars and the eclipses of the sun. it seems impossible that, in the complete absence of air, the moon can be peopled by beings organized like ourselves, nor is there any sign of vegetation or of any alteration in the state of its surface which can be attributed to a change of seasons." [439] on the same side mr. crampton writes most decisively, "with what we _do_ know, however, of our satellite, i think the idea of her being inhabited may be dismissed _summarily_; _i.e._ her inhabitation by intelligent beings, or an animal creation such as exist here." [440] and, finally, in one of maunder's excellent _treasuries_, we read of the moon, "she has no atmosphere, or at least none of sufficient density to refract the rays of light as they pass through it, and hence there is no water on her surface; consequently she can have no animals like those on our planet, no vegetation, nor any change of seasons." [441] these opinions, recorded by so many judges of approved ability and learning, have great weight; and some may regard their premisses and conclusions as irresistibly cogent and convincing. the case against inhabitation is certainly strong. but justice is impartial. _audi alteram partem_. judges of equal erudition will now speak as respondents. we go back to the seventeenth century, and begin with a work whose reasoning is really remarkable, seeing that it is nearly two hundred and fifty years since it was first published. we refer to the _discovery of a new world_ by john wilkins, bishop of chester; in which the reverend philosopher aims to prove the following propositions:--"1. that the strangeness of this opinion (that the moon may be a world) is no sufficient reason why it should be rejected; because other certain truths have been formerly esteemed as ridiculous, and great absurdities entertained by common consent. 2. that a plurality of worlds does not contradict any principle of reason or faith. 3. that the heavens do not consist of any such pure matter which can privilege them from the like change and corruption, as these inferior bodies are liable unto. 4. that the moon is a solid, compacted, opacous body. 5. that the moon hath not any light of her own. 6. that there is a world in the moon, hath been the direct opinion of many ancient, with some modern mathematicians; and may probably be deduced from the tenets of others. 9. that there are high mountains, deep valleys, and spacious plains in the body of the moon. 10. that there is an atmosphoera, or an orb of gross vaporous air, immediately encompassing the body of the moon. 13. that 'tis probable there may be inhabitants in this other world; but of what kind they are, is uncertain." [442] we go on to 1686, and listen to the french philosopher, fontenelle, in his conversations with the marchioness. "'well, madam,' _said i_, 'you will not be surprised when you hear that the moon is an earth too, and that she is inhabited as ours is.' 'i confess,' _said she_, 'i have often heard talk of the world in the moon, but i always looked upon it as visionary and mere fancy.' 'and it may be so still,' _said i_. 'i am in this case as people in a civil war, where the uncertainty of what may happen makes them hold intelligence with the opposite party; for though i verily believe the moon is inhabited, i live civilly with those who do not believe it; and i am still ready to embrace the prevailing opinion. but till the unbelievers have a more considerable advantage, i am for the people in the moon.'" [443] whatever may be thought of his philosophy, no one could quarrel with the secretary of the academy on the score of his politeness or his prudence. a more recent and more reliable authority appears in sir david brewster. he tells us that "mm. mädler and beer, who have studied the moon's surface more diligently than any of their predecessors or contemporaries, have arrived at the conclusion that she has an atmosphere." sir david himself maintains that "_every planet and satellite in the solar system must have an atmosphere_." [444] bonnycastle, whilom professor of mathematics in the royal military academy, woolwich, writes: "astronomers were formerly of opinion that the moon had no atmosphere, on account of her never being obscured by clouds or vapours; and because the fixed stars, at the time of an occultation, disappear behind her instantaneously, without any gradual diminution of their light. but if we consider the effects of her days and nights, which are near thirty times as long as with us, it may be readily conceived that the phenomena of vapours and meteors must be very different. and besides, the vaporous or obscure part of our atmosphere is only about the one thousand nine hundred and eightieth part of the earth's diameter, as is evident from observing the clouds, which are seldom above three or four miles high; and therefore, as the moon's apparent diameter is only about thirty-one minutes and a half, or one thousand eight hundred and ninety seconds, the obscure part of her atmosphere, supposing it to resemble our own, when viewed from the earth, must subtend an angle of less than one second; which is so small a space, that observations must be extremely accurate to determine whether the supposed obscuration takes place or not." [445] dr. brinkley, at one time the astronomer-royal of ireland, writes: "many astronomers formerly denied the existence of an atmosphere at the moon; principally from observing no variation of appearance on the surface, like what would take place, did clouds exist as with us; and also, from observing no change in the light of the fixed stars on the approach of the dark edge of the moon. the circumstance of there being no clouds, proves either that there is no atmosphere similar to that of our earth, or that there are no waters on its surface to be converted into vapour; and that of the lustre of the stars not being changed, proves that there can be no dense atmosphere. but astronomers now seem agreed that an atmosphere does surround the moon, although of small density when compared with that of our earth. m. schroeter has observed a small twilight in the moon, such as would arise from an atmosphere capable of reflecting the rays at the height of about one mile." [446] dr. brinkley is inaccurate in saying that astronomers are agreed as to the lunar atmosphere. like students in every other department of inquiry, spiritual as well as physical, they fail at present to see "eye to eye"; which is not surprising, seeing that the eye is so restricted, and the object so remote. dr. dick, whose productions have done much to popularize the study of the heavens, and to promote its reverent pursuit, says: "on the whole it appears most probable that the moon is surrounded with a fluid which serves the purpose of an atmosphere; although this atmosphere, as to its nature, composition, and refractive power, may be very different from the atmosphere which surrounds the earth. it forms no proof that the moon, or any of the planets, is destitute of an atmosphere, because its constitution, its density, and its power of refracting the rays of light are different from ours. an atmosphere may surround a planetary body, and yet its parts be so fine and transparent that the rays of light, from a star or any other body, may pass through it without being in the least obscured, or changing their direction. in our reasonings on this subject, we too frequently proceed on the false principle, that everything connected with other worlds must bear a resemblance to those on the earth." [447] mr. neison, who has written one of the latest contributions to the science of selenography, says, "of the present non-existence of masses of water upon the surface of the moon, there remains no doubt, though no evidence of its entire absence from the lunar crust can be adduced; and similarly, many well-established facts in reference to the moon afford ample proof of the non-existence of a lunar atmosphere, having a density equal to, or even much less than, that of the earth; but of the absence of an atmosphere, whose mass should enable it to play an important part in the moulding of the surface of the moon, and comparable almost to that of the terrestrial atmosphere, in their respective ratios to the masses of their planets, little, if any, trustworthy evidence exists." on another page of the same work, the author affirms "that later inquiries have shown that the moon may possess an atmosphere that must be regarded as fully capable of sustaining various forms of vegetation of even an advanced type; and, moreover, it does not appear how it can justly be questioned that the lunar surface in favourable positions may yet retain a sufficiency of moisture to support vegetation of many kinds; whilst in a very considerable portion of the entire surface of the moon, the temperature would not vary sufficiently to materially affect the existence of vegetable life." [448] some of these writers may appear to be travelling rather too fast or too far, and their assumptions may wear more of the aspect of plausibility than of probability. but on their atmospheric and aqueous hypothesis, vegetation in abundance is confessedly a legitimate consequence. if a recent writer has liberty to condense into a sentence the conclusion from the negative premiss in the argument by saying, "as there is but a little appearance of water or air upon the moon, the conclusion has been inferred that there exists no vegetable or animal life on that globe," [449] other writers, holding opposite views of the moon's physical condition, may be allowed to expatiate on the luxuriant life which an atmosphere with water and temperature would undoubtedly produce. mr. proctor's tone is temperate, and his language that of one who is conscious with hippocrates that "art is long and life is short." he says, in one of his contributions to lunar science, "it may safely be asserted that the opportunities presented during the life of any single astronomer for a trustworthy investigation of any portion of the moon's surface, under like conditions, are few and far between, and the whole time so employed must be brief, even though the astronomer devote many more years than usual to observational research." [450] this prepares us to find in another of the same author's works the following suggestive sentence: "with regard to the present habitability of the moon, it may be remarked that we are not justified in asserting positively that no life exists upon her surface. life has been found under conditions so strange, we have been so often mistaken in assuming that _here_ certainly, or _there_, no living creatures can possibly exist, that it would be rash indeed to dogmatise respecting the state of the moon in this respect." [451] narrien, one of the historians of the science, may be heard, though his contribution might be cast into either scale. he writes: "the absence of those variations of light and shade which would be produced by clouds floating above her surface, and the irregularities of the ground, visible at the bottom and on the sides of her cavities, have given reason to believe that no atmosphere surrounds her, and that she is destitute of rivers and seas. such are the opinions generally entertained concerning the moon; but m. schroeter, a german astronomer, ventures to assert that our satellite is the abode of living and intellectual beings; he has perceived some indications of an atmosphere which, however, he admits, cannot exceed two miles in height, and certain elevations which appear to him to be works of art rather than of nature. he considers that a uniformity of temperature must be produced on her surface by her slow rotation on her axis, by the insensible change from day to night, and the attenuated state of her atmosphere, which is never disturbed by storms; and that light vapours, rising from her valleys, fall in the manner of a gentle and refreshing dew to fertilize her fields." [452] dr. h. w. m. olbers is fully persuaded "that the moon is inhabited by rational creatures, and that its surface is more or less covered with a vegetation not very dissimilar to that of our own earth." dr. gruithuisen, of munich, maintains that he has descried through his large achromatic telescope "great artificial works in the moon erected by the lunarians," which he considers to be "a system of fortifications thrown up by the selenitic engineers." we should have scant hope of deciding the dispute by the dicta of the ancients, were these far more copious than we find them to be. yet reverence for antiquity may justify our quoting one of the classic fathers. plutarch says, "the pythagoreans affirme, that the moone appeereth terrestriall, for that she is inhabited round about, like as the earth wherein we are, and peopled as it were with the greatest living creatures, and the fairest plants." again, "and of all this that hath been said (my friend _theon_) there is nothing that doth proove and show directly, this habitation of men in the moon to be impossible." [453] here we close the argument based on _induction_, and sum up the evidence in our possession. on the one hand, several scientific men, whose names we need not repeat, having surveyed the moon, deny it an atmosphere, water, and other conditions of life. consequently, they disbelieve in its inhabitation, solely because they consider the fact undemonstrable; none of them being so unscientific as to believe it to be absolutely impossible. on the other hand, we have the valuable views of mädler and beer, whose lunar labours are unsurpassed, and whose map of the moon is a marvel and model of advanced selenography. they do not suppose the conditions on our satellite to be exactly what they are on this globe. in their own words, the moon is "no copy of the earth, much less a colony of the same." they merely believe her to be environed with air, and thus habitable. and when we recall our own sir david brewster, professor bonnycastle, dr. brinkley, dr. dick, mr. neison, and mr. proctor; and reckon with them the continental astronomers, dr. gruithuisen, dr. olbers, and schroeter, all of whom attempted to fix the idea of planetary inhabitation on the popular mind, we must acknowledge that they, with their opponents, have a strong claim on our attention. the only verdict we are able just now to render, after hearing these conflicting testimonies, is the scotch one, _not proven_. we but append the legal indorsement _ignoramus_, we do not know. the subject must remain _sub judice_; but what we know not now, we hope to know hereafter. having interrogated _sense_ and _science_, with the solution of our enigma anything but complete, we resort last of all to the argument from _analogy_. if this can illumine the obscurity, it will all be on the positive side of the inquiry. at present the question resembles a half-moon: analogy may show that the affirmative is waxing towards a full-orbed conviction. we open with huyghens, a dutch astronomer of note, who, while he thinks it certain "that the moon has no air or atmosphere surrounding it as we have," and "cannot imagine how any plants or animals whose whole nourishment comes from fluid bodies, can thrive in a dry, waterless, parched soil," yet asks, "what, then, shall this great ball be made for; nothing but to give us a little weak light in the night time, or to raise our tides in the sea? shall not we plant some people there that may have the pleasure of seeing our earth turn upon its axis, presenting them sometimes with a prospect of europe and africa, and then of asia and america; sometimes half and sometimes full?" [454] ray was "persuaded that this luminary doth serve many ends and uses, especially to maintain the creatures which in all likelihood breed and inhabit there." [455] swedenborg's _ipse dixit_ ought to convince the most incredulous; for he speaks "from what has been heard and seen." thus he says: "that there are inhabitants in the moon is well known to spirits and angels, and in like manner that there are inhabitants in the moons or satellites which revolve about jupiter and saturn. they who have not seen and discoursed with spirits coming from those moons still entertain no doubt but there are men inhabiting them, because they are earths alike with the planets, and wherever an earth is, there are men inhabitants; for man is the end for which every earth was created, and nothing was made by the great creator without an end." [456] if any are still sceptical, sir william herschel, an intellectual light of no mean magnitude, may reach them. he writes: "while man walks upon the ground, the birds fly in the air, and fishes swim in water, we can certainly not object to the conveniences afforded by the moon, if those that are to inhabit its regions are fitted to their conditions as well as we on this globe arc to ours. an absolute or total sameness seems rather to denote imperfections, such as nature never exposes to our view; and, on this account, i believe the analogies that have been mentioned fully sufficient to establish the high probability of the moon's being inhabited like the earth." [457] the voice of dr. dwight, the american theologian, will not be out of harmony here. in discoursing of the starry heavens, he says of the planets: "of these inferior worlds, the moon is one; and to us, far the most interesting. how many important purposes which are known does this beautiful attendant of our earth continually accomplish! how many more, in all probability, which are hitherto unknown, and which hereafter may be extensively disclosed to more enlightened, virtuous, and happy generations of men! at the same time, it is most rationally concluded that intelligent beings in great multitudes inhabit her lucid regions, being far better and happier than ourselves." [458] whewell's _bridgewater treatise_ will furnish us a fitting quotation. "the earth, the globular body thus covered with life, is not the only globe in the universe. there are, circling about our own sun, six others, so far as we can judge, perfectly analogous in their nature: besides our moon and other bodies analogous to it. no one can resist the temptation to conjecture, that these globes, some of them much larger than our own, are not dead and barren: --that they are, like ours, occupied with organization, life, intelligence." [459] in a most eloquent passage, dr. chalmers, who will always be heard with admiration, exclaims: "who shall assign a limit to the discoveries of future ages? who shall prescribe to science her boundaries, or restrain the active and insatiable curiosity of man within the circle of his present acquirements? we may guess with plausibility what we cannot anticipate with confidence. the day may yet be coming when our instruments of observation shall be inconceivably more powerful. they may ascertain still more decisive points of resemblance. they may resolve the same question by the evidence of sense which is now so abundantly convincing by the evidence of analogy. they may lay open to us the unquestionable vestiges of art, and industry, and intelligence. we may see summer throwing its green mantle over those mighty tracts, and we may see them left naked and colourless after the flush of vegetation has disappeared. in the progress of years or of centuries, we may trace the hand of cultivation spreading a new aspect over some portion of a planetary surface. perhaps some large city, the metropolis of a mighty empire, may expand into a visible spot by the powers of some future telescope. perhaps the glass of some observer, in a distant age, may enable him to construct the map of another world, and to lay down the surface of it in all its minute and topical varieties. but there is no end of conjecture; and to the men of other times we leave the full assurance of what we can assert with the highest probability, that yon planetary orbs are so many worlds, that they teem with life, and that the mighty being who presides in high authority over this scene of grandeur and astonishment has there planted the worshippers of his glory." [460] how fine is this outburst of the great scotch orator! he spoke as one inspired with prophetic foreknowledge; for in less than twenty years after this utterance, beer and mädler published their splendid _mappe selenographica_, or map of the moon; and photography offered its aid to the fuller delineation of our silvery satellite. who can tell what the last fifteen years of this eventful century may develop in the same direction? verily these intuitions of reason seem often favoured with an apocalypse of coming disclosures; and, if we may venture to adopt with slight alteration a sentence of shelley, we will say: "it is impossible to read the compositions of the most celebrated writers of the present day without being startled with the electric life which burns within their words. they measure the circumference and sound the depths of nature with a comprehensive and all-penetrating spirit, and they are themselves perhaps the most sincerely astonished at its manifestations; for it is less their spirit than the spirit of the age." the poets of science, in their analogies, are "the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present." [461] equally noble with the language of chalmers is a paragraph which we have extracted from a work by that scholarly writer, isaac taylor. he says: "there are two facts, each of which is significant in relation to our present subject, and of which the first has long been understood, while the latter (only of late ascertained) is every day receiving new illustrations; namely, that our planet is, in no sense, of primary importance in the general system, or entitled, by its magnitude, or its position, or its constitution, to be considered as exerting any peculiar influence over others, or as the object of more regard than any others. this knowledge of our real place and value in the universe is a very important consequence of our modern astronomy, and should not be lost sight of in any of our speculations. but then it is also now ascertained that the great laws of our own planet, and of the solar system to which it belongs, prevail in all other and the most remote systems, so as to make the visible universe, in the strictest sense, one system--indicating one origin and showing the presence of one controlling power. thus the law of gravitation, with all the conditions it implies, and the laws of light, are demonstrated to be in operation in regions incalculably remote; and just so far as the physical constitution of the other planets of our system can be either traced, or reasonably conjectured, it appears that, amid great diversities of constitution, the same great principles prevail in all; and therefore our further conjecture concerning the existence of sentient and rational life in other worlds is borne out by every sort of analogy, abstract and physical; and this same rule of analogy impels us to suppose that rational and moral agents, in whatever world found, and whatever diversity of form may distinguish them, would be such that we should soon feel at home in their society, and able to confer with them, to communicate knowledge to them, and to receive knowledge from them. neither truth nor virtue is local; nor can there be wisdom and goodness in one planet, which is not wisdom and goodness in every other." [462] the writer of the _plurality of worlds_, a little work distinct from the essay already quoted, vigorously vindicates "the deeply cherished belief of some philosophers, and of many christians, that our world, in its present state, contains the mere embryo of intelligent, moral, and religious happiness; that the progress of man in his present state is but the initiation of an interminable career of glory; and that his most widely extended associations are a preparation for as interminably an intercourse with the whole family of an intelligent universe." [463] dr. arnott may add a final word, a last link in this evidential chain of analogy. he writes: "to think, as our remote forefathers did, that the wondrous array of the many planets visible from this earth serve no purpose but to adorn its nocturnal sky, would now appear absurd indeed; but whether they are inhabited by beings at all resembling the men of this earth, we have not the means of knowing. all the analogies favour the opinion that they are the abodes of life and its satisfactions. on this earth there is no place so hot or so cold, so illumined or so dark, so dry or so wet, but that it has creatures constituted to enjoy life there." [464] here our long list of learned authorities shall terminate. we have strung together a large number of citations, and have ourselves furnished only the string. indeed, what more have amateurs that they can do? for, as pope puts it,- "who shall decide, when doctors disagree, and soundest casuists doubt, like you and me?" besides, astronomy is no child's play, nor are its abstruse problems to be mastered by superficial meddlers. "its intricacy," as narrien reminds us, "in the higher departments, is such as to render the processes unintelligible to all but the few distinguished persons who, by nature and profound application to the subject, are qualified for such researches." [465] but if professionals must be summoned as witnesses, ordinary men may sit as jurors. this function we have wished to fufil; and we avow ourselves considerably perplexed, though not in despair. we hoped that after a somewhat exhaustive examination, we might be able to state the result with an emphasis of conviction. this we find impossible; but we can affirm on which side the evidence appears to preponderate, and whither, we rest assured, further light will lead our willing feet. the conclusion, therefore, of the whole matter is: we cannot see any living creatures on the moon, however long we strain our eyes. no instrument has yet been constructed that will reveal the slightest vestige of inhabitation. consequently, the actual evidence of sense is all against us, and we resign it without demur. this point, being settled, is dismissed. next, we reconsider the results of scientific study, and are strongly inclined to think the weight of testimony favours the existence of a thin atmosphere, at least some water, and a measure of light and shade in succession. these conditions must enable vegetables and animals to exist upon its surface, though their constitution is in all probability not analogous with that of those which are found upon our earth. but to deny the being of inhabitants of some kind, even in the absence of these conditions, we submit would be unphilosophical, seeing that the power which adapted terrestrial life to terrestrial environments could also adapt lunar life to the environments in the moon. we are seeking no shelter in the miraculous, nor do we run from a dilemma to the refuges of religion. apart from our theological belief in the potency of the creator and controller of all worlds, we simply regard it as illogical and inconclusive to argue that because organization, life, and intelligence obtain within one sphere under one order of circumstances, _therefore_ the same order obtains in every other sphere throughout the system to which that one belongs. the unity of nature is as clear to us as the unity of god; but unity is not uniformity. we view the whole creation as we view this world; the entire empire as we view this single province, "where order in variety we see, and where, though all things differ, all agree." and, finally, as analogy is unreservedly on the side of the occupation of every domain in creation, by some creatures who have the dominion, we cannot admit the probability that the earth is the only tenement with tenants: we must be confirmed in our judgment that the sun and the planets, with their moons, ours of course included, are neither blank nor barren, but abodes of variously organized beings, fitted to fulfil the chief end of all noble existence: the enjoyment of life, the effluence of love, the good of all around and the glory of god above. this article, that the moon is inhabited, may therefore form a clause of our scientific creed; not to be held at any hazard, as a matter of life or death, or a test of communion, but to be maintained subject to corrections such as future elucidation may require. we believe that we are justified by science, reason, and analogy; and confidently look to be further justified by verification. we accept many things as matters of faith, which we have not fully ascertained to be matters of fact; but "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the proving of things not seen." by double entry the books of science are kept, by reasoning and demonstration: when future auditors shall examine the accounts of the moon's inhabitation, we are persuaded that the result of our reckoning will be found to be correct. if any would charge us with a wish to be wise above what is written, we merely reply: there are unwritten revelations which are nevertheless true. besides, we are not sure that at least an intimation of other races than those of the earth is not already on record. not to prove any position, but to check obstructive criticism, we refer to the divine who is said to have witnessed in magnificent apocalypse some closing scenes of the human drama. if he also heard in sublime oratorio a prelude of this widely extended glory, our vision may not be a "baseless fabric." after the quartettes of earth, and the interludes of angels, came the grand finale, when every creature which is in heaven, as well as on the earth, was heard ascribing "blessing and honour and glory and power to him who sitteth upon the throne." assuredly, our conception of a choir worthy to render that chorus is not of an elect handful of "saints," or contracted souls, embraced within any calvinistic covenant, but of an innumerable multitude of ennobled, purified, and expanded beings, convoked from every satellite and planet, every sun and star, and overflowing with gratitude and love to that universal father of lights, with whom is no parallax, nor descension, and who kindled every spark of life and beauty that in their individual and combined lustre he might reflect and repeat his own ineffable blessedness. appendix. _literature of the lunar man_. _vide_ p. 8. 1. _the man in the moone_. telling strange fortunes. london, 1609. 2. "_the man in the moone_, discovering a world of knavery under the sunne; both in the _parliament_, the _councel_ of _state_, the _army_, the _city_, and the _country_." dated, "die lunae, from nov. 14 to wednesday novemb. 21 1649." _periodical publications, london_. british museum. another edition, "printed for charles tyns, at the three cups on london bridge, 1657." 3. "selenarchia, _or the government of the world in the moon_." a comical history written by cyrano bergerac, and done into english by tho. st. serf. london 1659." the same, englished by a. lovell, a.m., london, 1687. 4. "_the man in the moon, or travels into the lunar regions_," by w. thomson, london, 1783. in this lucubration the man in the moon shows the man of the people (charles fox), many eminent contemporaries, by means of a magical glass. 5. "_the man in the moon_, consisting of essays and critiques." london, 1804. of no value. after shining feebly like a rushlight for about two months, it went out in smoke. 6. _the man in the moon_. london, 1820. a political squib. 7. _the loyal man in the moon_, 1820, is a political satire, with thirteen cuts. 8. _the man in the moon_, london, 1827(?). a poem. _n.b._ the word _poem_ has many meanings. 9. _the man in the moon_. edinburgh, 1832. a small sheet, sold for political purposes, at the high price of a penny. the lunar man pledges himself to "do as i like, and not to care one straw for the opinion of any person on earth." 10. _the man in the moon_. london, 1847. this is a comical serial, edited by albert smith and angus b. reach; and is rich, racy, and now rare. 11. _the moon's histories_. by a lady. london, 1848. _the mirror of pythagoras_ _vide_ p. 147. "in laying thus the blame upon the moone, thou imitat'st subtill _pythagoras_, who, what he would the people should beleeve, the same be wrote with blood upon a glasse, and turn'd it opposite 'gainst the new moone whose beames reflecting on it with full force, shew'd all those lynes, to them that stood behinde, most playnly writ in circle of the moone; and then he said, not i, but the new moone fair _cynthia_, perswades you this and that." _summer to sol_, in _a pleasant comedie, called summer's last will and testament_. written by thomas nash. london, 1600. _the east coast of greenland_. _vide_ p. 171. "when an eclipse of the moon takes place, they attribute it to the moon's going into their houses, and peeping into every nook and corner, in search of skins and eatables, and on such occasions accordingly, they conceal all they can, and make as much noise as possible, in order to frighten away their unbidden guest." --_narrative of an expedition to the east coast of greenland_: capt. w. a. graah, of the danish roy. navy. london, 1837, p. 124. _lord iddesleigh on the moon_. _vide_ p. 189. speaking at a political meeting in aberdeen, on the 22nd of september, 1885, the earl of iddesleigh approved the superannuated notion of lunar influence, and likened the leading opponents of his party to the old and new moon. "what signs of bad weather are there which sometimes you notice when storms are coming on? it always seems to me that the worst sign of bad weather is when you see what is called the new moon with the old moon in its arms. i have no doubt that many of you aberdeen men have read the fine old ballad of sir patrick spens, who was drowned some twenty or thirty miles off the coast of aberdeen. in that ballad he was cautioned not to go to sea, because his faithful and weatherwise attendant had noticed the new moon with the old moon in its lap. i think myself that that is a very dangerous sign, and when i see mr. chamberlain, the new moon, with mr. gladstone, the old one, in his arms, i think it is time to look out for squally weather."--_the standard_, london, sept. 23rd, 1885. the scottish ballad of sir patrick spens, which is given in the collections of thomas percy, sir walter scott, william motherwell, and others, is supposed by scott to refer to a voyage that may really have taken place for the purpose of bringing back the maid of norway, margaret, daughter of alexander iii., to her own kingdom of scotland. finlay regards it as of more modern date. chambers suspects lady wardlaw of the authorship. while william allingham counsels his readers to cease troubling themselves with the historical connection of this and all other ballads, and to enjoy rather than investigate. coleridge calls sir patrick spens a "grand old ballad." _greeting the new moon in fiji_. _vide_ p. 212. "there is, i find, in colo ('the devil's country' as it is called), in the mountainous interior of viti levu, the largest island of fiji, a very curious method of greeting the new moon, that may not, as few europeans have visited this wild part, have been noticed. the native, on seeing the thin crescent rise above the hills, salutes it with a prolonged 'ah!' at the same time quickly tapping his open mouth with his hand, thus producing a rapid vibratory sound. i inquired of a chief in the town the meaning and origin of this custom, and my interpreter told me that he said, 'we always look and hunt for the moon in the sky, and when it comes we do so to show our pleasure at finding it again. i don't know the meaning of it; our fathers always did so.'"--alfred st. johnston, in _notes and queries_ for july 23rd, 1881, p. 67. see also mr. st. johnston's _camping among cannibals_, london, 1883, p. 283. _lunar influence on dreams_. _vide_ p. 214. arnason says that in iceland "there are great differences between a dream dreamt in a crescent moon, and one dreamt when the moon is waning. dreams that are dreamt before full moon are but a short while in coming true; those dreamt later take a longer time for their fulfilment."--_icelandic legends_, introductory essay, p. lxxxvii. notes. 1 _the martyrs of science_, by sir david brewster, k.h., d.c.l. london, 1867, p. 21. 2 _the marvels of the heavens_, by camile flammarion. london, 1870, p. 238. 3 _the jest book_. arranged by mark lemon. london, 1864, p. 310. 4 _timon_, a play. edited by the rev. a. dyce. london (shakespeare society), 1842, act iv. scene iii. 5 _the man in the moon drinks claret_, as it was lately sung at the court in holy-well. _bagford ballads_, folio collection in the british museum, vol. ii. no. 119. 6 _conceits, clinches, flashes, and whimzies_. edited by j. o. halliwell, f.r.s. london, 1860, p. 41. 7 _the man in the moon_, by c. sloman. london, 1848, music by e. j. loder. 8 _ancient songs and ballads_, by joseph ritson. london, 1877, p. 58. 9 _on the religions of india_. hibbert lectures for 1878. london, p. 132. 10 _an etymological dictionary of the scottish language_, by john jamieson, d.d. paisley, 1880, iii. 299. 11 _sir thomas browne's works_. edited by simon wilkin, f.l.s., london, 1835, iii. 157. 12 _popular antiquities of great britain_. hazlitt's edition. london, 1870, ii. 275. 13 _asgard and the gods_. adapted from the work of dr. wägner, by m.w. macdowall; and edited by w. s. anson. london, 1884, p. 30. 14 _an introduction to the science of comparative mythology and folk lore_, by the rev. sir george w. cox, bart., m.a. london, 1881, p. 12. 15 _plutarch's morals_. translated by p. holland. london, 1603, p. 1160. 16 _myths and marvels of astronomy_, by r. a. proctor. london, 1878, p. 245. see also, _as pretty as seven and other german tales_, by ludwig bechstein. london, p. 111. 17 _curious myths of the middle ages_, by s. baring-gould, m.a. london, 1877, p. 193. 18 _northern mythology_, by benjamin thorpe. london, 1851, iii. 57. 19 _notes and queries_. first series, 1852, vol. vi. p. 232. the entire text of this poem is given in bunsen's _god in history_. london, 1868, ii. 495. 20 thorpe's _mythology_, i. 6. 21 _ibid.,_ 143. 22 _curious myths_, pp. 201-203. 23 _teutonic mythology_, by jacob grimm. translated by j. s. stallybrass. london, 1883, ii. 717. 24 _de natura rerum_. ms. harl. no. 3737. 25 ms. harl. no. 2253, 81. 26 _the archaeological journal_ for march, 1848, pp. 66, 67. 27 see tyrwhitt's _chaucer_. london, 1843, p. 448. 28 dekker's _dramatic works_. reprinted, london, 1873, ii. 121. 29 _popular rhymes of scotland_. robert chambers. london and edinburgh, 1870, p. 185. 30 _popular rhymes and nursery tales_, by j. o. halliwell. london, 1849, p. 228. 31 _curious myths_, p. 197. 32 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 719-20. 33 _the vision of dante alighieri_. translated by the rev. h. f. cary, a.m. london. 34 _the folk-lore of china_, by n. b. dennys, ph.d. london and hong kong, 1876, p. 117. 35 _himalayan journals_, by joseph d. hooker, m.d., r.n., f.r.s. london, 1855, ii. 278. 36 _primitive culture_, by edward b. tyler. london, 1871, i 320. 37 _a brief account of bushman folk-lore_, by w. h. j. bleek, ph.d. cape town, 1875, p. 9. 38 _the history of greenland_, from the german of david cranz. london, 1820, i. 212. 39 _an arctic boat journey in the autumn of 1854_, by isaac j. hayes, m.d. boston, u.s., 1883, p. 254. 40 _the natural genesis_, by gerald massey. london, 1883, i. 115. 41 _the church missionary intelligencer_ for november, 1858, p. 249. 42 _ibid._, for april, 1865, p. 116. 43 see _notes and queries_. first series. vol. xi. p. 493. 44 _researches into the early history of mankind_, by edward b. tylor, d.c.l., ll.d., f.r.s. london, 1878, p. 378. 45 _ibid.,_ p. 336. 46 _notes and queries: on china and japan_. hong kong, august, 1869, p, 123. 47 _selected essays on language, mythology, and religion_. london, 1881, i. 613. 48 _vico_, by robert flint. edinburgh, 1884, p. 210. 49 _the dictionary historical and critical_ of mr. peter bayle. london, 1734, v. 576. 50 see _lunar world_, by the rev. j. crampton, m.a. edinburgh, 1863, p. 83. 51 _dictionary of phrase and fable_, by the rev. e. cobham brewer, ll.d. london, p. 592. 52 _the man in the moon_. by an undergraduate of worcester college. oxford, 1839, part i. p. 3. 53 ms. in the british museum library. additional mss. no. 11,812. 54 lucian's _works_. translated from the greek by ferrand spence. london, 1684, ii. 182. 55 _the table book_. by william hone. london, 1838, ii. 252. 56 _adventures of baron munchausen_. london, 1809, p. 44. 57 flammarion's _marvels of the heavens_, p. 241. 58 _records of the past_. edited by s. birch, ll.d., d.c.l. london, iv. 121. 59 _the philosophie_, 1603, holland's transl. p. 1184. 60 _primitive culture_, ii. 64. 61 _a journey to the moon_, by the author of _worlds displayed_. london, p. 6. 62 dennys' _folk-lore of china_, p. 101. 63 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 720. 64 flammarion's _marvels of the heavens_, p. 253. 65 _the philosophie_, p. 338. 66 _the woman in the moone_, by john lyllie. london, 1597. 67 dr. rae, _on the esquimaux_. transactions of the ethnological society, vol. iv., p. 147. 68 _vide_ also _a description of greenland_, by hans egede. second edition. london, 1818, p. 206. 69 _amazonian tortoise myths_, by ch. fred. hartt, a.m. rio de janeiro, 1875, p. 40. 70 _algic researches_, by henry rowe schoolcraft. new york, 1839, ii. 54. 71 _information respecting the history, &c., of the indian tribes_, by h. r. schoolcraft. philadelphia, v. 417. 72 _nineteen years in polynesia_, by the rev. george turner. london, 1861, p. 247. 73 _an account of the natives of the tonga islands in the south pacific ocean_, by william mariner. arranged by john martin, m.d. london, 1818, ii. 127. 74 _myths and songs from the south pacific_, by the rev. w. w. gill, b.a. london, 1876, p. 45. 75 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 716. 76 _selected essays_, vol. i. note to p. 611. 77 _the sacred and historical books of ceylon_, edited by edward upham. london, 1833, iii. 309. 78 _teutonic mythology_, ii. 716. 79 _illustrations of shakespeare_. london, 1807, i. 17. 80 _dictionnaire infernal_, par j. collin de plancy. paris, 1863, p. 592. 81 _the chinese reader's manual_, by w. f. mayers. shanghai, 1874, p. 219. 82 _the chinese readers manual_, p. 95. 83 _reynard the fox in south africa; or, hottentot fables and tales_ by w. h. j. bleek. london, 1864, p. 72. 84 _a brief account of bushman folk-lore_, by dr. bleek. cape town, 1875, p. 10. 85 _outlines of physiology, human and comparative_, by john marshall, f.r.s. london, 1867, ii. 625. 86 _lectures on the native regions of mexico and peru_, by albert réville, d.d. london, 1884, p. 8. 87 _history of the conquest of mexico_, by william h. prescott. london, 1854, p. 50. 88 _the native races of the pacific states of north america_, by hubert howe bancroft. new york, 1875, iii. 62. 89 _zoological mythology; or, the legends of animals_, by angelo de gubernatis. london, 1872, ii. 80. 90 _ibid._, ii. 76. 91 _report on the indian tribes inhabiting the country in the vicinity of the 49th parallel of north latitude_, by capt. wilson. trans. of ethnolog. society of london, 1866. new series, iv. 304. 92 _the races of mankind_, by robert brown, m.a., ph.d. london, 1873-76, i. 148. 93 dennys' _folk-lore of china_, p. 117. 94 _the middle kingdom_, by s. wells williams, ll.d. new york, 1883, ii. 74. 95 _the disowned_, by the right hon. lord lytton, chap. lxii. 96 _fiji and the fijians_, by thomas williams. london, 1858, i. 205. 97 _primitive culture_, i. 321. 98 _on the aborigines of southern australia_, by w. e. stanbridge, of wombat, victoria. transactions of ethnolog. society of london, 1861, p. 301. 99 _a discovery of a new world_, by john wilkins, bishop of chester. london, 1684, p. 77. 100 _a voyage to the pacific ocean_, by capt. james cook, f.r.s., and capt. james king, ll.d., f.r.s. london, 1784, ii. 167. 101 _polynesian researches during a residence of nearly eight years in the society and sandwich islands_, by william ellis. london, 1833, iii. 171. 102 _prehistoric times_, by sir john lubbock, bart., m.p., d.c.l. london, 1878, p. 440. 103 _primitive culture_, i. 318. 104 _see_ kalisch on _genesis_. london, 1858, p. 70. 105 _sermons_, by the rev. w. morley punshon, ll.d. second series. london, 1884, p. 376. 106 _outlines of the history of religion_, by c. p. tiele. trans. by j. e. carpenter. london, 1877, p. 8. 107 _the myths of the new world_, by daniel g. brinton, a.m., m.d. new york, 1868, p. 131. 108 _the primitive inhabitants of scandinavia_. by sven nilsson (lubbock's edit.). london, 1868, p. 206. 109 _lectures on the science of language_. london, 1880, i. 6. 110 _teutonic mythology_, iii. 704. 111 _the manners and customs of the ancient egyptians_. london, 1878, iii. 39. 112 _ibid._, iii. 165. 113 _the mythology of the aryan nations_. london, 1882, note to p. 372. 114 _russian folk-lore_, by w. r. s. ralston, m.a. london, 1873, p. 176. 115 tylor's _primitive culture_, i. 260. 116 _a system of biblical psychology_, by franz delitzsch, d.d., translated by the rev. r. e. wallis, ph.d. edinburgh, 1875, p. 124. 117 _the book of isaiah_ liv. 4-6, and lxii. 4. 118 _english grammar, historical and analytical_, by joseph gostwick. london, 1878, pp. 67-72. 119 _hibbert lectures_ for 1878, p. 190. 120 bayle's _dictionary_, i. 113. 121 vide tylor's _anthropology_. london, 1881, p. 149. 122 _language and languages_, by the rev. frederic w. farrar, d.d., f.r.s. london, 1878, p. 181. 123 _ibid._, p. 182. coleridge also was in error on this question. see his _table talk_, under date may 7th, 1830. 124 _hebrew and christian records_, by the rev. dr. giles. london, 1877, i. 366. 125 _biblical psychology_, p. 79. 126 _antitheism_, by r. h. sandys, m.a. london, 1883, p. 32. 127 _the origin and development of religious belief_. london, 1878, i. 187. 128 _the works of ralph waldo emerson_. london, 1882, i. 274. 129 _jesus christ: his times, life, and work_, by e. de pressensé. london, 1866, p. 38. 130 _sketches of the history of man_, by the hon. henry home of kames. edinburgh, 1813, iii. 364. 131 _ancient faiths embodied in ancient names_, by thomas inman. london, 1872, ii. 325. 132 _mythology among the hebrews_, by ignaz goldziher, ph.d. london, 877, p. 76. 133 _primitive culture_, ii. 271. 134 _nineveh and its remains_, by austen henry layard, m.p. london, ii. 446. 135 inman's _ancient faiths_, i. 93. 136 _the unicorn: a mythological investigation_, by robert brown, f.s.a. london, 1881, p. 34. 137 _the five great monarchies of the ancient eastern world_, by george rawlinson, m.a. london, 1871, i. 56. 138 _ibid._, vol. i. p. 123. 139 _ibid._, vol. i. note to p. 124. 140 brown's _unicorn_, p. 34. 141 _mythology among the hebrews_, p. 158, 142 _ibid._, 159. 143 _ibid._, 160. 144 _jewish history and politics_, by sir edward strachey, bart. london, 1874, p. 256. 145 _phoenicia_, by john kenrick, m.a. london, 1855, p. 301. 146 _dictionary of the bible_, edited by william smith, ll.d. art. ashtoreth. 147 _dictionary of the scottish language_, iii. 299. 148 on _isaiah_. london, 1824, ii. 374. 149 _the antiquities of israel_, by heinrich ewald (trans. by solly).london, 1876, p. 341. 150 _the bampton lectures for 1876_, by william alexander, d.d., d.c.l. london, 1878, p. 378. 151 _rivers of life, showing the evolution of faiths_, by major-general j. g. r. forlong. london, 1883, ii. 62. 152 _outlines of the history of religion_, by c. p. tiele, p. 63. 153 _dictionary of phrase and fable_, p. 194. 154 _the philosophy of history_, by frederick von schlegel, translated by j. b. robertson. london, 1846, p. 325. 155 _el-koran; or, the koran_, translated from the arabic by j. m. rodwell, m.a. london, 1876, p. 199. 156 tylor's _primitive culture_, ii. 274. 157 _decline and fall of the roman empire_. london, 1862, p. 76. 158 _the zend-avesta_, translated by james darmesteter. oxford, 1883, part ii., p. 90. 159 _the philosophy of history_, by g. w. f. hegel, translated by j. sibree, m.a. london, 1861, p. 186. 160a _the highlands of central india_, by captain j. forsyth. london, 1871, p. 146. 160b _travels from st. petersburg in russia to diverse parts of asia_, by john bell of antermony. glasgow, 1763, i. 230. 161 _the early races of scotland_, by forbes leslie. edinburgh, 1866, i. 138. 162 kames' _history of man_, iii. 299. 163 _the origin of civilization and the primitive condition of man_, by sir john lubbock, bart., m.p., f.r.s., d.c.l., ll.d. london, 1882, p. 315. 164 _history of man_, iii. 366. 165 _the religions of china_, by james legge. london, 1880, p. 12. 166 _ibid._, pp. 44-46. 167 _religion in china_, by joseph edkins, d.d. london, 1878, p. 60. 168 _a translation of the confucian yih king_, by the rev. canon mcclatchie, m.a. shanghai, 1876, p. 386. 169 _ibid._, p. 388. 170 _ibid._, p. 449. 171 _the religions of china_, p. 170. 172 _religion in china_, p. 105. 173 _handbook for the student of chinese buddhism_, by rev. e. j. eitel, london. 1870, p. 107. 174 _hulsean lectures for 1870_, p. 203. 175 _hibbert lectures on indian buddhism_, by t. w. rhys davids. london, 1881, p. 231. 176 _a view of china for philological purposes_, by the rev. r. morrison. macao, 1817, p. 107. 177 dennys' _folk-lore of china_, p. 28. 178 _travels in tartary, thibet, and china during the years 1844-46_, by m. huc. translated by w. hazlitt. london, i. 61. 179 _social life of the chinese_, by rev. justus doolittle. new york, 1867, ii. 65. 180 _china: its state and prospects_, by w. h. medhurst. london, 1838, p. 217. 181 _ibid._, p. 188. 182 _researches into the physical history of mankind_, by james cowles prichard, m.d., f.r.s. london, 1844, iv. 496-7. 183 tylor's _anthropology_, p. 21. 184 _the historical library of diodorus the sicilian_, made english by g. booth. london, 1700, p. 21. 185 _history of ancient egypt_, by george rawlinson, m.a. london, 1881, i. 369. 186 _records of the past_, edited by s. birch, ll.d., d.c.l., etc. london, vi. iii. 187 _hibbert lectures for 1879_, p. 116. 188 _ibid._, p. 155. 189 _ancient egypt_, i. 373. 190 _records of the past_, iv. 53. 191 _egypt's place in universal history_, by christian c. j. bunsen, d.ph., and d.c.l. translated by c. h. cottrell, m.a. london, 1848, i. 395. 192 _hibbert lectures_, p. 237. 193 _on the relations between pasht, the moon, and the cat, in egypt_. transactions of the society of biblical archaeology, 1878, vol. vi. 3 16. 194 _travels to discover the source of the nile, in the years_ 1768-73, by james bruce, f.r.s. edinburgh, 1813, vi. 343. 195 _ibid._, iv. 36. 196 _a voyage to congo_, by father jerom merolla da sorrento. pinkerton's _voyages and travels_. london, 1814, vol. xvi. 273. 197 _journal of the anthropological institute_, may, 1884. 198 _travels in the interior districts of africa_, by mungo park, surgeon. london, 1779, vol. i. 271. 199 _ibid._, i. 322. 200 _missionary travels and researches in south africa_, by david livingstone, ll.d., d.c.l., etc. london, 1857, p. 235. 201 _the present state of the cape of good hope_, by peter kolben, a.m. london, 1731, i. 96. 202 _the poetical works of lord byron_. london, 1876 (_don juan_, canto iii.), p. 636. 203 _the iliad of homer_. translated by j. g. cordery. london, 1871, ii. 183. 204 _a history of greece_, by george grote, f.r.s. london, 1872, i. 317. 205 _vide pausan_., l. x. c. 32, p. 880. edit. kuhnii, fol. lips, 1696. 206 _history of greece_, i. 317. 207 _the iliad of homer_, by edward earl of derby. london, 1867, i. 190. 208 see _roman antiquities_, by alexander adam, ll.d. london, 1825, pp. 251-60. 209 _carmen saeculare_, 35. 210 _metam_., lib. xi. 657. 211 _the divine legation of moses demonstrated_, by william warburton, d. d. london, 1837, i. 316. 212 jamieson's _scottish dictionary_, iii. 299. 213 _teutonic mythology_, ii. 704. 214 _chaldaean magic: its origin and development_, by françois lenormant. london, p. 249. 215 _flammarion's astronomical myths_, p. 35. 216 leslie's _early races of scotland_, i. 113. 217 _ibid._, i. 134. 218 _remaines of gentilisme and judaisme_, by john aubrey, 1686-7. edited by james britten, f.l.s. london, 1881, p. 83. 219 _britannia_, by william camden, translated by edmund gibson, d.d. london, 1772, ii. 380. 220 _a general history of ireland from the earliest accounts_, by mr. o'halloran. london, 1778, i. 47. 221 _ibid._, i. 113. 222 _ibid._, i. 221. 223 _the towers and temples of ancient ireland_, by marcus keane, m.r.i.a. dublin, 1867, p. 59. 224 _the keys of the creeds_. london, 1875, p. 148. 225 a. s., in _notes and queries_ for nov. 19, 1881, p. 407. 226 _history of the missions of the united brethren among the indians in north america_, by george henry loskiel. london, 1794, part i. p. 40. 227 _illustrations of the manners, customs, and condition of the north american indians_, by george catlin. london, 1876, ii. 242. 228 _scenes and studies of savage life_, by gilbert malcolm sproat. london, 1868, p. 206. 229 brown's _races of mankind_, p. 142. 230 lubbock's _origin of civilization_, p. 315. 231 see _mexico to-day_, by thomas unett brocklehurst. london, 1883, p. 175. 232 bancroft's _races of the pacific_, i. 587. 233 _ibid._, iii. 112. 234 _ibid._, iii. 187. 235 _hibbert lectures for 1884_, p. 45. 236 _american antiquities and researches into the origin anti history of the red race_, by alexander w. bradford. new york, 1843, p. 353. 237 _travels in brazil in the years_ 1817-20, by dr. joh. bapt. von spix and dr. c. f. phil. von martius. london, 1824, ii. 243. 238 _an account of the abipones, an equestrian people of paraguay_, from the latin of martin dobrizhoffer. london, 1822, ii. 65. 239 _the royal commentaries of peru_, by the inca garcilasso de la vega. translated by sir paul rycaut, knt. london, 1688, folio, p. 455. 240 _narratives of the rites and laws of the yncas_. translated from the spanish ms. of christoval de molina, by clements r. markham, c.b., f.r.s. london, 1873, p. 37. 241 _history of the conquest of peru_, by william h. prescott. london, 1878, p. 47. 242 _jottings during the cruise of h.m.s. curaçoa among the south sea islands_ in 1865, by julius l. brenchley, m.a., f.r.g.s. london, 1873, p. 320. 243 _polynesian mythology_, by sir george grey, late governor in chief of new zealand. london, 1855, _pref_. xiii. 244 kenrick's _phoenicia_, p. 303. 245 _workes_ of john baptista van helmont. london, 1644, p. 142. 246 goldziher's _hebrew mythology_, note to p. 206. 247 _ibid._, p. 206. 248 dr. smith's _bible dictionary_, article _meni_, by william a. wright, m.a., ii. 323. 249 goldziher's _hebrew mythology_, p. 160. 250 gubernatis' _zoological mythology_, i. 18. 251 _ibid._, ii. 375. 252 mayers' _chinese reader's manual_, p. 288. 253 _japanese fairy world_. stories from the wonder lore of japan, by william elliot griffis. schenectady, n. y., 1880, p. 299. 254 brown's _unicorn_, p. 69. 255 wilkinson's _ancient egyptians_, iii. 375. 256 _teutonic mythology_, ii. note to p. 719. 257 brinton's _myths of the new world_, p. 130. 258 schoolcraft's _indian tribes_, iii. 485. 259 _myths of the new world_, p. 133. 260 _ibid._, p. 134. 261 _origin of civilization_, p. 315. 262 _myths of the new world_, pp. 135-7. 263 _ibid._, p. 131. 264 tylor's _primitive culture_, i. 318. 265 chambers's _etymological dictionary_ (findlater). 266 _dictionary of phrase and fable_, p. 865. 267 _ecclesiastical polity_. london, 1617, p. 191. 268 _the natural history of infidelity and superstition_, by j. e. riddle, m.a. oxford, 1852, p. 155. 269 _the anatomy of melancholy_. london, 1836, p. 669. 270 _the descent of man_, by charles darwin, m.a., f.r.s., etc. london, 1877, p. 121. 271 _essays. of superstition_. 272 _lectures on the philosophy of the human mind_. edinburgh, 1828, p. 673 273 _voltaire_, by john morley. london, 1878, p. 156. see also parton's _life of voltaire_. 274 gubernatis' _zoological mythology_, i. 56. 275 _vide_ inman's _ancient faiths_, ii. 260, 326. 276 mosheim's _ecclesiastical history_. london, 1847, i. 116. 277 _history of brazil_, by robert southey. london, 1810, p. 635. 278 _the dictionary, historical and critical_. london, 1734, iv. 672. 279 _primitive culture_, i. 262. 280 leslie's _early races of scotland_, ii. 496. 281 _history of brazil_, i. 193. 282 _icelandic legends_. collected by jón arnason (powell and magnússon). london, 1866, p. 663. 283 _on the truths contained in popular superstitions_, by herbert mayo, m.d. edinburgh and london, 1851, p. 135. 284 _a literal translation of aristophanes: the clouds_, by a first-class man of balliol college. oxford, 1883, p. 31. 285 see _curiosities of indo-european tradition and folk-lore_, by walter h. kelly. london, 1863, p. 226. 286 _teutonic mythology_, ii. 706. 287 _astronomical myths_, p. 331 288 _medea: a tragedie_. written in latin by lucius anneus seneca. london, 1648, p. 105. 289 _the childhood of the world_, by edward clodd, f.r.a.s. london, 1875, p. 65. 290 _the chinese empire_, by m. hue. london, 1855, ii. 376. 291 _the connection of the physical sciences_. london, 1877, p. 104. 292 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 707. 293 _appendix on the astronomy of the ancient chinese_, by the rev. john chalmers, a.m. legge's chinese classics. vol. iii. part i. hong-kong, 1861, p. 101. 294 _the middle kingdom_, i. 818. 295 _ibid._, ii. 73. 296 _social life of the chinese_, by the rev. justus doolittle, of fuhchau. new york, 1867, i. 308. 297 _chinese sketches_, by herbert a. giles. london, 1876, p. 99. 298 _gems of chinese literature_, by herbert a. giles. shanghai, 1884 p. 102. 299 _an account of cochin china_. written in italian by the r. e. christopher borri, a milanese, of the society of jesus. pinkerton's travels, ix. 816. 300 _a voyage to and from the island of borneo in the east indies_, by captain daniel beeckman. london, 1878, p. 107. 301 _history of the indian archipelago_, by john crawfurd, f.r.s. edinburgh, 1820, i. 305. 302 _sketches of the history of man_, iii. 300. 303 _thucydides_. translated by b. jowett, m.a. oxford, 1881, i. 521. 304 _the stratagems of jerusalem_, by lodowick lloyd, esq., one of her majestie's serjeants at arms. london, 1602, p. 286. 305 quoted in _notes and queries_, 16th of april, 1881, by william e. a. axon. 306 _northern antiquities_, by paul henri mallett. london, 1790, i. 39. 307 _teutonic mythology_, i. 245. 308 _ibid._, ii. 705. 309 _advice to a son_. oxford, 1658, p. 105 310 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 714. 311 schoolcraft's _indian tribes_, v. 2 16. 312 brinton's _myths_, p. 137. 313 bradford's _american antiquities_, p. 332. 314 _ibid._, p. 333. 315 _the antiquities of mexico_, by augustine aglio. london, 1830, folio vi. 144. 316 bancroft's _native races_, iii. 111. 317 brinton's _myths_, p. 131. 318 _polynesian researches_, i. 331. 319 mariner's _natives of the tonga islands_, ii. 127. 320 _discoveries in the ruins of nineveh and babylon_. london, 1853, p. 552. 321 tylor's _primitive culture_, ii. 272. 322 _ibid._, ii. 272. 323 _description of the western islands of scotland_, by martin martin. london, 1716, p. 41. 324 _the philosophie_, p. 696. 325 _a voyage to st. kilda, the remotest of all the hybrides_, by m. martin, gent. printed in the year 1698. miscellanea scottica. glasgow, 1818, p. 34. 326 _the zend-avesta_. oxford, 1883, ii. 90. 327 _five hundred pointes of good husbandrie_, by thomas tusser. london, 1580, p. 37. 328 flammarion's _marvels of the heavens_, p. 244. 329 _the philosophie_, 1603, p. 697. 330 _english folk-lore_, by the rev. t. f. thiselton dyer, m.a., oxon. london, 1880, p. 42. 331 _notes on the folk-lore of the northern counties of england and the borders_, by william henderson. london, 1866, p. 86. 332 _knowledge for the time_, by john timbs, f.s.a. london, p. 227. 333 _popular errors, explained and illustrated_, by john timbs, f.s.a. london, 1857, p. 131. 334 _a manual of astrology_, by raphael. london, 1828, p. 90. 335 brinton's _myths_, p. 132. 336 _endimion: the man in the moone_. london, 159 1, act i. sc. i. 337 _a defensative against the poyson of supposed prophecies_, by henry howard, earl of northampton. london, 1583. 338 _folk-lore of china_, p. 118. 339 tusser's _good husbandrie_, p. 13. 340 _ibid._, p. 13. 341 _folk-lore of the northern counties of england_, p. 41 342 _david copperfield_. the "charles dickens" edition, p. 270. 343 see _an historical survey of the astronomy of the ancients_, by the rt. hon. sir george c. lewis, bart. london, 1862, p. 312. 344 _popular astronomy_, by simon newcomb, ll.d. new york, 1882, p. 325. 345 _primitive culture_, i. 118. 346 dennys's _folk-lore of china_, p. 32. 347 _folk-lore; or, manners and customs of the north of england_, by m.a.d. novo-castro-sup. tynan, 1850-51, p. 11. 348 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 42. 349 _ibid._, p. 41. 350 _time's telescope_ for 1814. london, p. 368. 351 dennys's _folk-lore of china_, p. 118. 352 _the book of days: a miscellany of popular antiquities_. edited by r. chambers. london and edinburgh, ii. 203. 353 _the life and correspondence of robert southey_. edited by his son. london, 1850, v. 341. 354 _adam bede_, chap. xviii. 355 _scottish ballads and songs_. edited by james maidment. edinburgh, 1868, i. 41. 356 _etymological dictionary of the scottish language_. paisley, 1880, iii. 299. 357 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 38. 358 _notes and queries_ for may 16th, 1874, p. 384. 359 _ibid._ for august 1st, 1874, p. 84. 360 _amazulu_, by thomas b. jenkinson, b.a., late canon of maritzburg. london, 1882, p. 61. 361 _legends of iceland_. collected by jón arnason. second series. london, 1866, p. 635. 362 _astrology, as it is, not as it has been represented_, by a cavalry officer. london, 1856, p. 37. 363 _a manual of astrology_, by raphael. london, 1828, p. 89. 364 _the dignity and advancement of learning_. london (bohn), 1853, p. 129. 365 _works_. london, 1740, iii. 187. 366 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 41. 367 _scottish dictionary_, iii. 300. 368 tylor's _primitive culture_, i. 117. 369 vide potter's _antiquities of greece_, ii. 262. 370 _recreations in astronomy_, by the rev. lewis tomlinson, m.a. london, 1858, p. 251. 371 flammarion's _marvels of the heavens_, p. 243. 372 _genesis, with a talmudic commentary_, by paul isaac hershon. london, 1883, p. 50. 373 _notes on the miracles_, p. 363. 374 _the gospel of s. matthew illustrated from ancient and modern authors_, by the rev. james ford, m.a. london, 1859, p. 310. 375 see _light: its influence on life and health_, by forbes winslow, m.d., d.c.l. london, 1867, p. 94. also, _the history of astronomy_, by george costard, m.a. london, 1767, p. 275. 376 _the science and practice of medicine_, by william aitken, m.d. london, 1864, ii. 353. 377 _myths of the new world_, p. 132. 378 _ibid._, p. 134. 379 _ibid._, p. 135. 380 _the darker superstitions of scotland illustrated from history and practice_, by john graham dalyell. edinburgh, 1834, p. 286. 381 _the early races of scotland_, i. 136. 382 _the statistical account of scotland_, by sir john sinclair, bart. edinburgh, 1791, i. 47. 383 _works_. london, 1740, iii. 187. 384 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 47. 385 _some west sussex superstitions lingering in_ 1868. collected by charlotte latham, at fittleworth. _the folk-lore record_ for 1878, p. 45. 386 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 48. 387 inman's _ancient faiths_, ii. 327. 388 _fairy tales: their origin and meaning_, by john thackray bunce. london, 1878, p. 131. 389 martin's _western islands of scotland_, 1716, p. 42. 390 _letters from the east_, by john carne, esq. london, 1826, p. 77. 391 grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 715. 392 timbs's _knowledge for the time_, p. 227. 393 _dissertation upon superstitions in natural things_, by samuel werenfels, basil, switzerland. london, 1748, p. 6. 394 vide grimm's _teutonic mythology_, ii. 714-716. 395 _defensative_, 1583. 396a _a talmudic miscellany_. compiled and translated by paul isaac hershon. london, 1880, p. 342. 396b _caesar's commentaries_. london (bohn), 1863, book i. chap. 50. 397 _popular rhymes_, p. 217. 398 _the year book of daily recreation and information_, by william hone. london, 1838, p. 254. 399 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 43. 400 _gentilisme_, p. 37. 401 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 44. 402 _extraordinary popular delusions_. london, i. 260. 403 dyer's _folk-lore_, p. 38. 404 henderson's _folk-lore_, p. 86. 405 _popular romances of the west of england_. collected by robert hunt, f.r.s. london, 1881, p. 429. 406 _west sussex superstitions_, p. 10. 407 c. w. j. in chambers's _book of days_, ii. 202. 408 _early races of scotland_, i. 136. 409 _scottish dictionary_, iii. 300. 410 forlong's _rivers of life_, ii. 63. 411 _secret memoirs of the late mr. duncan campbel_. written by himself. london, 1732, p. 62. 412 _folk-lore_, 1851, p. 8. 413 _popular rhymes_. 414 jamieson's _scottish dictionary_, iii. 300. 415 _familiar illustrations of scottish character_, by the rev. charles rogers, ll. d. london, 1865, p. 172. 416 _statistical account of scotland_, xii. 457. 417 _early races of scotland_, ii. note to p. 406. 418 dalyell's _darker superstitions of scotland_, p. 285. 419 _romeo and juliet_, act ii. sc. 2. 420 _light: its influence on life and health_, p. 101. 421 _religion as affected by modern materialism_, by james martineau, ll.d. london, 1874, pp. 7, 11. 422 _the relations between religion and science_. bampton lectures for 1884, p. 245. 423 _address delivered before the british association assembled at belfast_, by john tyndall, f.r.s. london, 1874, p. 61. 424 _celestial objects for common telescopes_, by the rev. t. w. webb, m.a., f.r.a.s. london, 1873, p. 58. 425 _the heavens_, by amédée guillemin. london, 1876, p. 144. 426 _mcfingal_, by john trumbull. hartford, u.s.a., 1782 canto i. line 69. 427 _stargazing_, by j. norman lockyer, f.r.s. london, 1878, p. 476. 428 _the system of the world_, by m. le marquis de la place. dublin, 1830, i. 42. 429 _the solar system_, by j. russell hind. london, 1852, p. 48. 430 _history of physical astronomy_, by robert grant, f.r.a.s. london, 1852, p. 230. 431 _cosmos_, by alexander von humboldt (sabine's edition). london, 1852, iii. 357. 432 _handbook of astronomy_, by dionysinus lardner, d.c.l. london, 1853, pp. 194, 197. 433 _the planetary worlds_, by james breen. london, 1854, p. 123. 434 _of the plurality of worlds. an essay_. fourth edition. london, 1855, p. 289. 435 _vestiges of the natural history of creation_. eleventh edition. london, 1860, pp. 21, 22. 436 _the treasury of science_, by friedrich schoedler, ph.d. london, 1865, p. 167. 437 _spectrum analysis_, by dr. h. schellen. london, 1872, p. 481. 438 _the moon_, by james nasmyth, c.e., and james carpenter, f.r.a.s. london, 1874, p. 157. 439 _astronomy_, by j. rambosson. translated by c. b. pitman. london, 1875, p. 191. 440 _the three heavens_, by the rev. josiah crampton, m.a. london, 1879, p. 328. 441 _scientific and literary treasury_, by samuel maunder. london, 1880, p. 470. 442 _the mathematical and philosophical works of john wilkins_. london, 1708. 443 _a plurality of worlds_, by bernard le bovier de fontenelle. london, 1695, p. 35. 444 _more worlds than one_, by sir david brewster, m.a., d.c.l. london, 1874, pp. 120, 121. 445 _an introduction to astronomy_, by john bonnycastle. london, 1822, p. 367. 446 _elements of astronomy_, by john brinkley, d. d., f.r.s. dublin, 1819, p. 113. 447 _celestial scenery_, by thomas dick, ll.d. london, 1838, p. 350. 448 _the moon_, by edmund neison, f.r.a.s. london, 1876, pp. 17, 129. 449 _the art of scientific discovery_, by g. gore, ll. d., f.r.s. london, 1878, p. 587. 450 _the moon, her motions, aspect, scenery, and physical, condition_, by richard a. proctor. london, 1878, p. 300. 451 _other worlds than ours_. london, 1878, p. 167. 452 _an historical account of astronomy_, by john narrien, f.r.a.s. london, 1833, p. 448. see also schroeter's, observations on the atmosphere of the moon. philosophical trans. for 1792, p. 337. 453 _plutarch's morals_. translated by p. holland. london, 1603, pp. 825, 1178. 454 _cosmotheoros_, by christian huyghens van zuylichem. glasgow, 1757, pp. 177, 178. 455 _the wisdom of god in the creation_, by john ray, f.r.s. london, 1727, p. 66. 456 _on the earths in our solar system_, by emanuel swedenborg. london, 1840, p. 59. 457 _philosophical transactions of the royal society for_ 1795, p. 66. 458 _theology_, by timothy dwight, ll.d. london, 1836, p. 91. 459 _astronomy and general physics_, by william whewell, m.a. london, 1836, p. 269. 460 _astronomical discourses_, by thomas chalmers, d. d., ll.d. edinburgh, 1871, p. 23. 461 _a defence of poetry_, in essays, etc., by percy bysshe shelley. london, 1852, i. 48. 462 _physical theory of another life_. london, 1836, p. 200. 463 _the plurality of worlds, the positive argument from scripture_, etc. london (bagster), 1855, p. 146. 464 _elements of physics_, by neil arnott, m.d., f.r.s. london, 1865, part ii. p. 684. 465 _historical account of astronomy_, p. 520. index. aah, 111. abipones, 129. adam, alexander, 119. africa, 114, 177. agesinax, 20. aglio, 172. ahts, 84, 127. aitken, dr., 198. ajax, 99. albertus, 72. alchymists, 196. aleutians, 148. alexander, bishop of derry, 96. algonquins, 133. al zamakhshari, 133. anahuac, 128. anaxagoras, 153, 168. anaximines, 153. andraste, 121. anglo-saxon, 86. angus, 195. anninga and malina, 34. anthropomorphism, 19, 87, 118. aphrodite, 85. apollo, 18. apuleius, 119. arabians, 83, 97. arago, 46. arakho, 157. araucanians, 172. _archaeological journal_, 28. aristophanes, 152. aristotle, 2, 41, 49, 153. arnason, 150, 192, 262. arnott, dr., 253. ashango, 177. asia, northern, 100, 154. assyrians, 90. astarte, 85, 92, 94, 132. asterodia, 19. astrology, 191. astruc, 163. ataensic, 136. athenians, 117, 168. athol, 121. atiu, 59. atmosphere of the moon, 234. aubrey, 121, 214. australians, 72. austro-hungarians, 135. aztecs, 128, 136. baal, 93. babylonians, 92. bacon, 78, 143, 190, 194, 202. bancroft, h. h., 66, 128, 172. barbosa, 57. baring-gould, 23, 25, 31, 67, 88. barnardo, dr., 124. bayles, 41, 86, 147. beaufort, sir f., 42. bechstein, ludwig, 22. bechten, princess, 110. bechuana, 115. beeckman, capt., 166. beer, wilhelm, 240, 246, 251. bell, john, 99. berkshire, 214. berosus, 91, 153. berthold, 54. bil and hiuki, 24. birch, dr. s., 49, 109, 110. bleek, dr.w. h. j., 33,65. blindness and the moon, 206. bochica, 138. bogota, 138. bonnycastle, 240. _book of respirations_, 49. borneo, 100, 166. borri, father, 165. bory de st. vincent, 115. botocudos, 129, 176. bradford, a. w., 129, 172. brahmins, 6i, 146. _brand's antiquities_, 18. brasseur de bourbourg, 128. brazil, 57, 199. breen, james, 235. brenchley, j. l., 130. brewer, dr. e. c, 43, 97, 140. brewster, sir d., 1, 234, 240. brinkley, dr. john, 241. brinton, d. g., 80, 136, 137, 171, 173, 180, 199. british apollo, 203. british columbians, 35. british museum library, 28, 45. britons, ancient, 66, 120. brocklehurst, t. u., 127. brougham, lord, 4. brown, robert, f.s.a., 91, 92, 134. brown, robert, m.a., 69, 127. brown, dr. t., 143. brown, sir w., 142. browne, sir t., 18. bruce, james, 113. buddha, 62. buddhists, 60, 64, 102. bunce, j. t., 205. buns, cross, 107. bunsen, baron, 111. buraets, 99. burton, robert, 141. bushmen, 33, 115. bussierre, 128. butler, samuel, 18, 208. byron, 117. byzantium, 97. caesar, 66, 212. cain, 32. caledonia, 194. californian indians, 171. camden, 121. campbel, duncan, 220. candrasaras, 67. canton, 105, 158. caribs, 90. carne, 207. carpenter, james, 237. cassia tree, 64. cat, 72, 112. catholics, 124, 146. catlin, 125. celebes, 99. ceris, 128. ceylon, 62. chaldseans, 87, 90, 153, 174. chalmers, j., 157. chalmers, dr. t., 249. chambers, r., 30, 140, 187, 218, 236. champollion, 111. chandras, 60, 219. chang-heng, 70. chang-ngo, 74. chaucer, 29. cheap john, chinese, 33, 38, 54, 63, 64, 70, 75, 100-108, 134, 154, 156, 164, 181, 184, 187. christmas, 185. cicero, 41. clarke, hyde, 112. clemens alexandrinus, 20. cleobulus, 55. clodd, e., 156. cobbett, 85. cochin china, 165. collin de plancy, 63. collyridians, 146. columbus, 171, 232. comanches, 127. comparative mythology, 37. _confessional of ecgbert_, 120. confucianism, 101. congo, 114. _constantinople messenger_, 168. cook, capt., 59, 73. cordery's homer, 117. cornwall, 149, 179, 186, 194. coroados, 129. coutinho, 57. cowichans, 69. cox, sir g. w., 19, 83. crampton, josiah, 42, 238. cranz, 34. craters, 41. crawfurd, 167. creeks, 35, 171. crescent, 97. cruikshank, 9. cuzco, 130. cynocephali, 112. cynthia, 29. dakotahs, 125, 136, 137. dalyell, 200, 223. dante, 32. darien, 35. darwin, 142. day's eye, 113. davids, t. w. rhys, 103. defoe, 220. dekkan, 99. dekker, 30, 188. delawares, 125. delitzsch, dr., 84, 88. democritus, 2. demons, 198. denham, 220. denmark, 205. dennys, n. b., 33, 54, 70, 104, 181, 184, 187. derby, earl of, 119. de rougemont, 36. descartes, 49. devil, 141. devonshire, 149, 179, 203, 214, 220. diana, 18, 20, 73, 97, 118, 119, 219. dick, dr. thomas, 242. dickens, 182. diodorus, 109. diogenes laertius, 87. disease and the moon, 195, 224. dobrizhoffer, 129. domingo gonsales, 46. doolittle, justus, 105, 158. douce, francis, 62, 67. dragon, 155. dreams, 213, 215, 262. druids, 120, 222. duncan, william, 35. dundas, 22. dunskey, 201. d'urville, 36. dwight, dr. t., 249. dyer, 179, 185, 189, 194, 202, 203, 214, 215, 216, 217. easter, 124. east indian archipelago, 167. eclipses, 152. _edda_, 25, 169. edkins, dr. j., 101, 102. egede, hans, 57. egyptians, 49, 82, 93, 107, 108, 112, 135, 207. eitel, e. j., 102. eliot, george, 188. ellis, w., 73, 173. elysium, 75. emerson, r. w., 89. endymion, 19, 20, 47, 59. eos, 59. eramangans, 130. esquimaux, 35, 56. essex, 179. ethiopians, 116. euripides, 68, 195. euthydemus, 177. ewald, heinrich, 96. farrar, f. w., 86, 103. fetu negroes, 177. fijians, 71, 261. finns, 120, 154. fischart, 23. flammarion, 2, 49, 55, 120, 154, 178, 196. fleachta, 121. flibbertigibbet, 66. flint, professor, 39. fontenelle, 54, 239. forlong, major-general, 96. forster, dr., 185. forsyth, capt. j., 99. fortune and the moon, 208. fox, charles j., 112. fraunhofer, 231. french, 20, 32, 180, 216. friendly islands, 59, 173. frisians, north, 23. frog in the moon, 69, 134. fuhchau, 105. galen, 198. galileo, 1. garcilasso de la vega, 130. gender, 16, 84. germans, 22, 83, 86, 120, 170, 212. gibbon, 97, 98. giles, dr. j. a., 87. giles, herbert a., 70, 162, 164. gill, w. w., 59. gizeh pyramid, 108. godwin, francis, 46. goethe, title page. goldziher, 90, 92, 133. gore, george, 243. gostwick, j., 85. gotch, dr. f. w., 94. goths, 120. graah, capt., 260. grant, robert, 234. greeks, 19, 75, 80, 117, 155, 168, 195, 201. greenlanders, 34, 170, 260. grey, sir george, 65, 131. griffis, 134. grimm, 26, 54, 60, 62, 82, 120, 135, 154, 157, 170, 207, 210. grote, george, 117, 118. gruithuisen, 245. guaycurus, 49. gubernatis, 67, 133, 145. guillemin, 231. guinea, 177. gyffyn church, 31. hakkas, 184. halliwell, j. o., 31, 213, 220. hampshire, 85. hans stade, 149. hare in the moon, 60. hare-lip, 65. hartt, c f., 57. hayes, dr. j. j., 35. hebrews, 75, 80, 85, 92, 94, 106, 197, 210. heden of the persians, 75. hegel, 98. helmont, 132. hemans, mrs., 75. henderson, 179, 182. henotheism, 101. herefordshire, 215. herodotus, 98, 112. herschel, sir john, 42. herschel, sir william, 231, 248. hershon, 197. hervey islands, 59, 174. hesperides, 75. hesychios, 108. hibernian, 5. himalayas, 33. hind, j. r., 234. hindoos, 154, 219. hippogypians, 47. hiuki and bil, 24. homer, 117, 119. hone, 9,48, 214. hooke, 230. hooker, j. d., 33. hooker, r., 140. horace, 119. horrack, p. j. de, 49. hottentots, 65, 115. howard, earl of northampton, 181, 210. how i, 70. hue, 104, 156. humboldt, 235. hunt, robert, 217. huntingdonshire, 181. huyghens, 247. huythaca, 138. iceland, 150, 192, 262. iddesleigh, earl of, 261. ina, 59. incas, 130. india, 60, 99, 133, 145, 155, 156, 167. india, central, 99. indians, american, 35, 57, 69, 125, 127, 136, 155, 156, 171. indras, 133. indus, 133. inhabitants of the moon, 47, 106. inman, dr. t., 90, 146, 203. iosco, 57. iphigenia, 144. irish, 43, 45, 121. iroquois, 125. isaac, 32. isis, 49, 109, 118, 136, 199. italy, 156, 185, 216. jack and jill, 25, 136. jacob, 21. jamieson, 17,95,120, 189, 195, 218. jamunda, 57. japanese, 108, 134. jenkinson, t. b., 190. jerome, 198. jerusalem pipes, 31. _jest book_ of 17th century, 11, 44. jews, 21, 87, 149. johnston, h. h., 114. _journey to the moon_, 50. judas iscariot, 32. jut-ho, 63. kaffirs, 115. kalisch, m. m., 75. kalmucks of tartary, 63. kames, lord, 89, 99, 100, 153, 168. kaniagmioutes, 127. keane, 123. kelly, w. h., 152. kenrick, john, 94, 132. _keys of the creeds_, 124. khasias, 33. khonds, 99. khonsu, or chonsu, 109, 110, 135 king, capt. james, 59, 73. kirkmichael, 221. kolben, peter, 115. _koran_, 98. korkus, 99. kun, 120. la martiniere, 196. lancashire custom, 104. laplace, 16, 234. lardner, dr. d., 235. latham, mrs., 202, 217. layard, sir a. h., 90, 174. lees, edwin, 216. legge, dr. james, 100, 102. leibnitz, 79. lemon, mark, 4. lenormant, 120. leslie, forbes, 99, 120, 149, 200, 218, 222. lewis, sir g. c, 118. lindley, professor, 180. lippershey, hans, 1. lithuanians, 154, 195. littledale, 187. livingstone, 115. livy, 119. lloyd, lodowick, 168. locke, r. alton, 42. lockyer, j. n., 232. loskiel, g. h., 125. lowth, bishop, 95. luan, st., 123. lubbock, sir john, 73, 100, 127, 137. lucian, 47. lucius, 120. lucretius, 143. luna, 4, 119. lunar fancies, 145. lunar influences, 175. lunar inhabitation, 227. lunar stone, 177. lunatic, 6. lyllie, or lilly, 7, 55, 181. lyndhurst, lord, 4. lytton, lord, 70. mcclatchie, canon, 101. mackay, charles, 215. madler, 240, 246, 251. mahomet, 97. maidment, 188. maimonides, 90. makololo, 115. malayan, 113. malina and anninga, 34. mallett, 169. mamarbasci, 168. managarmer, 169. mandarins, 159. mandingoes, 114. mangaians, 59. _man in the moon drinks claret_, 11. mani, 24. mariner, w., 59, 173. marini, 86. marken, 23. marshall, dr. john, 65. martin, 177, 206. martineau, dr. james, 228. _mary, glories of_, 146. mary magdalene, 54. massey, gerald, 35. maunder, samuel, 238. maurice, f. d., 93. mayers, w. f., 38, 64, 134. mayo, herbert, 151. mbocobis, 84. medhurst, w. h., 107, 108. meen, 96. melloni, 187. meni, 95. merolla, 114. mem of the hindoos, 75. mexicans, 66, 127, 138, 172, 199. meztli, 127, 200. microcosm, 191. milton, 13, 100. ming ti, 164. mityan, 72. molina, 130. mongolians, 64, 157. moon-cakes, 104, 106. moon, cold, 186. " full, 209. " misty, 185. " new, 189, 209. " no, 194. " old, 187. moon folk, 205. _moon hoax_, 42. moon inhabitation, 227. moon lake, 67. moon worship, 77. "moone" tavern, 11. mooney, 5. moors, 154. morduans, 100. morley, john, 144. morrison, r., 103. moses, 21. mosheim, 146. mountains of the moon, 2. müller, max, 16, 39, 59, 60, 82, 85, 86. munchausen, baron, 48. mundilföri, 24. muyscas, 138. nanahuatl, 200. narrien, john, 244, 254. nash, thomas, 260. nasmyth, james, 237. neal, sir paul, 43. neckham, alexander, 27. negroes, 225. neison, edmund, 242. nelson, 131. newcomb, simon, 183. new hebrides, 130. new netherlands, 180. _new york sun_, 42. new zealanders, 36. nicaraguans, 138. nilsson, sven, 81. nithi, 24. norfolk, 216. norse, 24. northumberland, 31. northumberland, duke of, 231. _notes and queries_, 124, 168, 217. nubians, 113. nyi, 24. o'halloran, 121. olbers, 245. "origin of death," 65. orinokos, 173. orkney, 221, 223. ormuzd, 98. osborn, francis, 170. osiris, 49, 109, 135. otaheite, 73. othman, 97. ottawas, 57. otway, 53. oxford undergraduate, 44. pachacamac, 130. paine, thomas, 219. pan, 86. panama, 33. _pancatantram_, 67. pandora, 56. paradise, 75. park, mungo, 114. pasht, 113. paul, 20, 79. pausanias, 118. peacock, reginald, 30. _penitential _of theodore, 120. periodicity, 225. perkunas, 83. persians, 80, 98, 131, 133, 149. personification, 19. peruvians, 130, 172, 219. philip of macedon, 97. phlebotomy, 196. phocis, 118. phoenicia, 93, 121. photography, 8, 232. phrygia, 96. picart, 139. pindar, 195. plato, 49, 153. pleiades, 129. pliny, 178, 198. _plurality of worlds, essay on_, 236. _plurality of worlds. positive argument_, 253. plutarch, 20, 49, 55, 113, 135, 177, 178, 193, 246. pocock, 97. poetry, 14. polybius, 68. polynesians, 50, 59. pontus, 96. pope, alexander, 81, 119, 254. potter, dr. john, 195. prescott, w. h., 66, 130. pressensé, dr. e. de, 89. prichard, j. c, 108. prideaux, 97. priestly, john, 65. proctor, r. a., 222, 244. praetorius, 23. protagoras, 168. protogenia, 19. _punch_, 4. punshon, w. m., 75. pythagoras, 147, 260. _quarterly review_, 128. queen of heaven, 92, 104. quiateot, 138. rabbit in the moon, 56, 105. rae, dr., 56, 113. raka, 145. ralston, w. r. s., 83. ramayanam, 145. rambosson, 237. rantum, 24. "raphael," 180, 192. rashi, 107. rat story, 71. ravvlinson, george, 91, 109. ray, john, 248. renfrewshire, 220. renouf, p. le page, 109, 112. reville, dr. a., 66, 128. riddle, j. e., 141. rimmon, 121. ritson, joseph, 16, 28. rodvvell, j. m., 98. rogers, charles, 221. romans, 80, 83, 119, 168, 201. _roman missal_, 146. rona, 36. rosse, earl of, 231. rudbeek, 120. sabianism, 100. st. johnston, alfred, 262. st. kilda, 178. sakkria, 60. sakyamuni, 63. sale, 97. saliva indians, 49. samoa, 59. samoides, 100. sandys, r. h., 88. sanskrit, 16, 60, 64. santhals, 219. saracens, 97. sasanka, 60. savannah, 225. scaliger, 155. scandinavians, 24. schaumberg-lippe, 23. schellen, dr. h., 237. schlegel, f., 97. schoedler, dr. f., 236. schoolcraft, h. r., 57, 136, 171. schroeter, 235, 241, 245. scotch highlanders, 149, 214, 221. scotland, 177, 185,223. selene, 19, 59. selenograpkia, 45. selish indians, 69. serapion, 20. servian, 83. sexuality, 84, 108. shakespeare, 9,30, 66, 152, 205, 223, 232. shangalla, 113. shang-te, 102. shelley, 3, 251. shepherd of banbury, 186. sherburne, sir e., 155. sheridan, 22. sibyl, 20. sidonians, 94. silver, 218, 220. sin and sinim, 91, 93. sina, 59. sinaloas, 173. sinclair, sir john, 201, 222. sin-too, 108. sirturi, 1. slavonians, 33, 83. sloman, charles, 14. smith, charlotte, ix. smith, dr. w., 95. smoker-man in the moon, a, 13. socrates, 117. sol, 24. solaria, 201. somas, 133, 219. somerville, mary, 157. southey, 147, 149, 187. spaniards, 224. spectrum, lunar, 237. spens, sir patrick, 188, 261. spenser, edmund, 45. spix and martius, 129. sprengel, 199. sproat, 127. staffordshire, 202, 217. stanbridge, w. e., 72. _standard_, 261. stent, g. s., 54. stilpo, 11. stoics, 153. strachey, sir e., 93. suffolk, 218. superstition, 140. sussex, 203, 217. swabia, 23, 66. swedenborg, 248. swedes, 25, 193. sylt, 23. tacitus, 119. tahitians, 73, 173. _talmud_, 21, 197. taoism, 64, 102. taru, 176. taylor, hudson, 28. taylor, isaac, 251. telescope, 1. temple, bishop, 228. teotihuacan, 127. tezcucans, 66. theism, 126. thorpe, benjamin, 25. thoth, 83, 109, 111. thucydides, 168. tides, 183. tiele, c. p., 76, 97. timbs, john, 180, 207. _time's telescope_, 186. _timon_, a play, ii. tithonos, 59. tlascaltecs, 172. toad in the moon, 69. tobler, 22. tomlinson, 195. tongans, 59, 173. tongusy, 99. torquay, 190. trench, 198. trumbull, john, 232. tschuwasches, 100. tuathal, 122. tunguses, 99. tupper, m. f., 50. turks, 97, 155. turner, dr. g., 59. tusser, 178, 181. tylor, e. b., 37, 49, 72, 74, 84, 86, 90, 98, 109, 138, 148, 176,184, 195. tyndall, john, 229. tyrwhitt's chaucer, 29. ulceby, 189. unk-ta-he, 136. upham, edward, 60. verne, jules, 48. vico, 39. virgin mary, 85, 146. voltaire, 144. _völu-spa_, 24. wagner, dr. w., 19. wales, 31. walled plains in the moon, 234. warburton, w., 120. water in the moon, 234. weather, 183. webb, t. w., 231. werenfels, 209. whewell, w., 249. whitby, 189. wilkins, john, 72, 238. wilkinson, sir g., 82, 135. williams, s. wells, 70, 157. williams, thomas, 71. wilson, captain, 69. wilson, rev. mr., 48. winckelmann, 108. winslow, dr. forbes, 198, 224. witchcraft, 151. witch of edmonton, 226. woman in the moon, 53. worcestershire, 216. wright, thomas, 27. wright, w. a., 133. xenophanes, 41, 88. yorkshire, 131. yue lao, 33. yue ping, 103. zabaists, 90. zend-avesta, 98, 178. zulus, 190. all around the moon from the french of jules verne author of "from the earth to the moon", "to the sun!" and "off on a comet!" by edward roth illustrated philadelphia david mckay, publisher 23 south ninth street contents. preliminary i. from 10 p.m. to 10. 46' 40'' ii. the first half hour iii. they make themselves at home and feel quite comfortable iv. for the cornell girls v. the colds of space vi. instructive conversation vii. a high old time viii. the neutral point ix. a little off the track x. the observers of the moon xi. fact and fancy xii. a bird's eye view of the lunar mountains xiii. lunar landscapes xiv. a night of fifteen days xv. glimpses at the invisible xvi. the southern hemisphere xvii. tycho xviii. puzzling questions xix. in every fight, the impossible wins xx. off the pacific coast xxi. news for marston! xxii. on the wings of the wind xxiii. the club men go a fishing xxiv. farewell to the baltimore gun club list of illustrations. 1. his first care was to turn on the gas 2. diana and satellite 3. he helped ardan to lift barbican 4. more hungry than either 5. they drank to the speedy union of the earth and her satellite 6. don't i though? my head is splitting with it! 7. poor satellite was dropped out 8. the body of the dog thrown out yesterday 9. a demoniacal hullabaloo 10. the oxygen! he cried 11. a group _à la jardin mabille_ 12. an immense battle-field piled with bleaching bones 13. nevertheless the solution escaped him 14. it's cold enough to freeze a white bear 15. they could utter no word, they could breathe no prayer 16. they seemed half asleep in his vitalizing beams 17. these arches evidently once bore the pipes of an aqueduct 18. ardan gazed at the pair for a few minutes 19. old mac discovered taking observations 20. for a second only did they catch its flash 21. how is that for high? 22. everywhere their departure was accompanied with the most touching sympathy preliminary chapter, resuming the first part of the work and serving as an introduction to the second. a few years ago the world was suddenly astounded by hearing of an experiment of a most novel and daring nature, altogether unprecedented in the annals of science. the baltimore gun club, a society of artillerymen started in america during the great civil war, had conceived the idea of nothing less than establishing direct communication with the moon by means of a projectile! president barbican, the originator of the enterprise, was strongly encouraged in its feasibility by the astronomers of cambridge observatory, and took upon himself to provide all the means necessary to secure its success. having realized by means of a public subscription the sum of nearly five and a half millions of dollars, he immediately set himself to work at the necessary gigantic labors. in accordance with the cambridge men's note, the cannon intended to discharge the projectile was to be planted in some country not further than 28° north or south from the equator, so that it might be aimed vertically at the moon in the zenith. the bullet was to be animated with an initial velocity of 12,000 yards to the second. it was to be fired off on the night of december 1st, at thirteen minutes and twenty seconds before eleven o'clock, precisely. four days afterwards it was to hit the moon, at the very moment that she reached her _perigee_, that is to say, her nearest point to the earth, about 228,000 miles distant. the leading members of the club, namely president barbican, secretary marston, major elphinstone and general morgan, forming the executive committee, held several meetings to discuss the shape and material of the bullet, the nature and position of the cannon, and the quantity and quality of the powder. the decision soon arrived at was as follows: 1st--the bullet was to be a hollow aluminium shell, its diameter nine feet, its walls a foot in thickness, and its weight 19,250 pounds; 2nd--the cannon was to be a columbiad 900 feet in length, a well of that depth forming the vertical mould in which it was to be cast, and 3rd--the powder was to be 400 thousand pounds of gun cotton, which, by developing more than 200 thousand millions of cubic feet of gas under the projectile, would easily send it as far as our satellite. these questions settled, barbican, aided by murphy, the chief engineer of the cold spring iron works, selected a spot in florida, near the 27th degree north latitude, called stony hill, where after the performance of many wonderful feats in mining engineering, the columbiad was successfully cast. things had reached this state when an incident occurred which excited the general interest a hundred fold. a frenchman from paris, michel ardan by name, eccentric, but keen and shrewd as well as daring, demanded, by the atlantic telegraph, permission to be enclosed in the bullet so that he might be carried to the moon, where he was curious to make certain investigations. received in america with great enthusiasm, ardan held a great meeting, triumphantly carried his point, reconciled barbican to his mortal foe, a certain captain m'nicholl, and even, by way of clinching the reconciliation, induced both the newly made friends to join him in his contemplated trip to the moon. the bullet, so modified as to become a hollow conical cylinder with plenty of room inside, was further provided with powerful water-springs and readily-ruptured partitions below the floor, intended to deaden the dreadful concussion sure to accompany the start. it was supplied with provisions for a year, water for a few months, and gas for nearly two weeks. a self-acting apparatus, of ingenious construction, kept the confined atmosphere sweet and healthy by manufacturing pure oxygen and absorbing carbonic acid. finally, the gun club had constructed, at enormous expense, a gigantic telescope, which, from the summit of long's peak, could pursue the projectile as it winged its way through the regions of space. everything at last was ready. on december 1st, at the appointed moment, in the midst of an immense concourse of spectators, the departure took place, and, for the first time in the world's history, three human beings quitted our terrestrial globe with some possibility in their favor of finally reaching a point of destination in the inter-planetary spaces. they expected to accomplish their journey in 97 hours, 13 minutes and 20 seconds, consequently reaching the lunar surface precisely at midnight on december 5-6, the exact moment when the moon would be full. unfortunately, the instantaneous explosion of such a vast quantity of gun-cotton, by giving rise to a violent commotion in the atmosphere, generated so much vapor and mist as to render the moon invisible for several nights to the innumerable watchers in the western hemisphere, who vainly tried to catch sight of her. in the meantime, j.t. marston, the secretary of the gun club, and a most devoted friend of barbican's, had started for long's peak, colorado, on the summit of which the immense telescope, already alluded to, had been erected; it was of the reflecting kind, and possessed power sufficient to bring the moon within a distance of five miles. while marston was prosecuting his long journey with all possible speed, professor belfast, who had charge of the telescope, was endeavoring to catch a glimpse of the projectile, but for a long time with no success. the hazy, cloudy weather lasted for more than a week, to the great disgust of the public at large. people even began to fear that further observation would have to be deferred to the 3d of the following month, january, as during the latter half of december the waning moon could not possibly give light enough to render the projectile visible. at last, however, to the unbounded satisfaction of all, a violent tempest suddenly cleared the sky, and on the 13th of december, shortly after midnight, the moon, verging towards her last quarter, revealed herself sharp and bright on the dark background of the starry firmament. that same morning, a few hours before marston's arrival at the summit of long's peak, a very remarkable telegram had been dispatched by professor belfast to the smithsonian institute, washington. it announced: that on december 13th, at 2 o'clock in the morning, the projectile shot from stony hill had been perceived by professor belfast and his assistants; that, deflected a little from its course by some unknown cause, it had not reached its mark, though it had approached near enough to be affected by the lunar attraction; and that, its rectilineal motion having become circular, it should henceforth continue to describe a regular orbit around the moon, of which in fact it had become the satellite. the dispatch went on further to state: that the _elements_ of the new heavenly body had not yet been calculated, as at least three different observations, taken at different times, were necessary to determine them. the distance of the projectile from the lunar surface, however, might be set down roughly at roughly 2833 miles. the dispatch concluded with the following hypotheses, positively pronounced to be the only two possible: either, 1, the lunar attraction would finally prevail, in which case the travellers would reach their destination; or 2, the projectile, kept whirling forever in an immutable orbit, would go on revolving around the moon till time should be no more. in either alternative, what should be the lot of the daring adventurers? they had, it is true, abundant provisions to last them for some time, but even supposing that they did reach the moon and thereby completely establish the practicability of their daring enterprise, how were they ever to get back? _could_ they ever get back? or ever even be heard from? questions of this nature, freely discussed by the ablest pens of the day, kept the public mind in a very restless and excited condition. we must be pardoned here for making a little remark which, however, astronomers and other scientific men of sanguine temperament would do well to ponder over. an observer cannot be too cautious in announcing to the public his discovery when it is of a nature purely speculative. nobody is obliged to discover a planet, or a comet, or even a satellite, but, before announcing to the world that you have made such a discovery, first make sure that such is really the fact. because, you know, should it afterwards come out that you have done nothing of the kind, you make yourself a butt for the stupid jokes of the lowest newspaper scribblers. belfast had never thought of this. impelled by his irrepressible rage for discovery--the _furor inveniendi_ ascribed to all astronomers by aurelius priscus--he had therefore been guilty of an indiscretion highly un-scientific when his famous telegram, launched to the world at large from the summit of the rocky mountains, pronounced so dogmatically on the only possible issues of the great enterprise. the truth was that his telegram contained _two_ very important errors: 1. error of _observation_, as facts afterwards proved; the projectile _was_ not seen on the 13th and _could_ not have been on that day, so that the little black spot which belfast professed to have seen was most certainly not the projectile; 2. error of _theory_ regarding the final fate of the projectile, since to make it become the moon's satellite was flying in the face of one of the great fundamental laws of theoretical mechanics. only one, therefore, the first, of the hypotheses so positively announced, was capable of realization. the travellers--that is to say if they still lived--might so combine and unite their own efforts with those of the lunar attraction as actually to succeed at last in reaching the moon's surface. now the travellers, those daring but cool-headed men who knew very well what they were about, _did_ still live, they _had_ survived the frightful concussion of the start, and it is to the faithful record of their wonderful trip in the bullet-car, with all its singular and dramatic details, that the present volume is devoted. the story may destroy many illusions, prejudices and conjectures; but it will at least give correct ideas of the strange incidents to which such an enterprise is exposed, and it will certainly bring out in strong colors the effects of barbican's scientific conceptions, m'nicholl's mechanical resources, and ardan's daring, eccentric, but brilliant and effective combinations. besides, it will show that j.t. marston, their faithful friend and a man every way worthy of the friendship of such men, was only losing his time while mirroring the moon in the speculum of the gigantic telescope on that lofty peak of the mountains. chapter i. from 10 p.m. to 10 46' 40''. the moment that the great clock belonging to the works at stony hill had struck ten, barbican, ardan and m'nicholl began to take their last farewells of the numerous friends surrounding them. the two dogs intended to accompany them had been already deposited in the projectile. the three travellers approached the mouth of the enormous cannon, seated themselves in the flying car, and once more took leave for the last time of the vast throng standing in silence around them. the windlass creaked, the car started, and the three daring men disappeared in the yawning gulf. the trap-hole giving them ready access to the interior of the projectile, the car soon came back empty; the great windlass was presently rolled away; the tackle and scaffolding were removed, and in a short space of time the great mouth of the columbiad was completely rid of all obstructions. m'nicholl took upon himself to fasten the door of the trap on the inside by means of a powerful combination of screws and bolts of his own invention. he also covered up very carefully the glass lights with strong iron plates of extreme solidity and tightly fitting joints. ardan's first care was to turn on the gas, which he found burning rather low; but he lit no more than one burner, being desirous to economize as much as possible their store of light and heat, which, as he well knew, could not at the very utmost last them longer than a few weeks. under the cheerful blaze, the interior of the projectile looked like a comfortable little chamber, with its circular sofa, nicely padded walls, and dome shaped ceiling. all the articles that it contained, arms, instruments, utensils, etc., were solidly fastened to the projections of the wadding, so as to sustain the least injury possible from the first terrible shock. in fact, all precautions possible, humanly speaking, had been taken to counteract this, the first, and possibly one of the very greatest dangers to which the courageous adventurers would be exposed. ardan expressed himself to be quite pleased with the appearance of things in general. "it's a prison, to be sure," said he "but not one of your ordinary prisons that always keep in the one spot. for my part, as long as i can have the privilege of looking out of the window, i am willing to lease it for a hundred years. ah! barbican, that brings out one of your stony smiles. you think our lease may last longer than that! our tenement may become our coffin, eh? be it so. i prefer it anyway to mahomet's; it may indeed float in the air, but it won't be motionless as a milestone!" [illustration: turn on the gas.] barbican, having made sure by personal inspection that everything was in perfect order, consulted his chronometer, which he had carefully set a short time before with chief engineer murphy's, who had been charged to fire off the projectile. "friends," he said, "it is now twenty minutes past ten. at 10 46' 40'', precisely, murphy will send the electric current into the gun-cotton. we have, therefore, twenty-six minutes more to remain on earth." "twenty-six minutes and twenty seconds," observed captain m'nicholl, who always aimed at mathematical precision. "twenty-six minutes!" cried ardan, gaily. "an age, a cycle, according to the use you make of them. in twenty-six minutes how much can be done! the weightiest questions of warfare, politics, morality, can be discussed, even decided, in twenty-six minutes. twenty-six minutes well spent are infinitely more valuable than twenty-six lifetimes wasted! a few seconds even, employed by a pascal, or a newton, or a barbican, or any other profoundly intellectual being whose thoughts wander through eternity--" "as mad as marston! every bit!" muttered the captain, half audibly. "what do you conclude from this rigmarole of yours?" interrupted barbican. "i conclude that we have twenty-six good minutes still left--" "only twenty-four minutes, ten seconds," interrupted the captain, watch in hand. "well, twenty-four minutes, captain," ardan went on; "now even in twenty-four minutes, i maintain--" "ardan," interrupted barbican, "after a very little while we shall have plenty of time for philosophical disputations. just now let us think of something far more pressing." "more pressing! what do you mean? are we not fully prepared?" "yes, fully prepared, as far at least as we have been able to foresee. but we may still, i think, possibly increase the number of precautions to be taken against the terrible shock that we are so soon to experience." "what? have you any doubts whatever of the effectiveness of your brilliant and extremely original idea? don't you think that the layers of water, regularly disposed in easily-ruptured partitions beneath this floor, will afford us sufficient protection by their elasticity?" "i hope so, indeed, my dear friend, but i am by no means confident." "he hopes! he is by no means confident! listen to that, mac! pretty time to tell us so! let me out of here!" "too late!" observed the captain quietly. "the trap-hole alone would take ten or fifteen minutes to open." "oh then i suppose i must make the best of it," said ardan, laughing. "all aboard, gentlemen! the train starts in twenty minutes!" "in nineteen minutes and eighteen seconds," said the captain, who never took his eye off the chronometer. the three travellers looked at each other for a little while, during which even ardan appeared to become serious. after another careful glance at the several objects lying around them, barbican said, quietly: "everything is in its place, except ourselves. what we have now to do is to decide on the position we must take in order to neutralize the shock as much as possible. we must be particularly careful to guard against a rush of blood to the head." "correct!" said the captain. "suppose we stood on our heads, like the circus tumblers!" cried ardan, ready to suit the action to the word. "better than that," said barbican; "we can lie on our side. keep clearly in mind, dear friends, that at the instant of departure it makes very little difference to us whether we are inside the bullet or in front of it. there is, no doubt, _some_ difference," he added, seeing the great eyes made by his friends, "but it is exceedingly little." "thank heaven for the _some_!" interrupted ardan, fervently. "don't you approve of my suggestion, captain?" asked barbican. "certainly," was the hasty reply. "that is to say, absolutely. seventeen minutes twenty-seven seconds!" "mac isn't a human being at all!" cried ardan, admiringly. "he is a repeating chronometer, horizontal escapement, london-made lever, capped, jewelled,--" his companions let him run on while they busied themselves in making their last arrangements, with the greatest coolness and most systematic method. in fact, i don't think of anything just now to compare them to except a couple of old travellers who, having to pass the night in the train, are trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible for their long journey. in your profound astonishment, you may naturally ask me of what strange material can the hearts of these americans be made, who can view without the slightest semblance of a flutter the approach of the most appalling dangers? in your curiosity i fully participate, but, i'm sorry to say, i can't gratify it. it is one of those things that i could never find out. three mattresses, thick and well wadded, spread on the disc forming the false bottom of the projectile, were arranged in lines whose parallelism was simply perfect. but ardan would never think of occupying his until the very last moment. walking up and down, with the restless nervousness of a wild beast in a cage, he kept up a continuous fire of talk; at one moment with his friends, at another with the dogs, addressing the latter by the euphonious and suggestive names of diana and satellite. [illustration: diana and satellite.] "ho, pets!" he would exclaim as he patted them gently, "you must not forget the noble part you are to play up there. you must be models of canine deportment. the eyes of the whole selenitic world will be upon you. you are the standard bearers of your race. from you they will receive their first impression regarding its merits. let it be a favorable one. compel those selenites to acknowledge, in spite of themselves, that the terrestrial race of canines is far superior to that of the very best moon dog among them!" "dogs in the moon!" sneered m'nicholl, "i like that!" "plenty of dogs!" cried ardan, "and horses too, and cows, and sheep, and no end of chickens!" "a hundred dollars to one there isn't a single chicken within the whole lunar realm, not excluding even the invisible side!" cried the captain, in an authoritative tone, but never taking his eye off the chronometer. "i take that bet, my son," coolly replied ardan, shaking the captain's hand by way of ratifying the wager; "and this reminds me, by the way, mac, that you have lost three bets already, to the pretty little tune of six thousand dollars." "and paid them, too!" cried the captain, monotonously; "ten, thirty-six, six!" "yes, and in a quarter of an hour you will have to pay nine thousand dollars more; four thousand because the columbiad will not burst, and five thousand because the projectile will rise more than six miles from the earth." "i have the money ready," answered the captain, touching his breeches pocket. "when i lose i pay. not sooner. ten, thirty-eight, ten!" "captain, you're a man of method, if there ever was one. i think, however, that you made a mistake in your wagers." "how so?" asked the captain listlessly, his eye still on the dial. "because, by jove, if you win there will be no more of you left to take the money than there will be of barbican to pay it!" "friend ardan," quietly observed barbican, "my stakes are deposited in the _wall street bank_, of new york, with orders to pay them over to the captain's heirs, in case the captain himself should fail to put in an appearance at the proper time." "oh! you rhinoceroses, you pachyderms, you granite men!" cried ardan, gasping with surprise; "you machines with iron heads, and iron hearts! i may admire you, but i'm blessed if i understand you!" "ten, forty-two, ten!" repeated m'nicholl, as mechanically as if it was the chronometer itself that spoke. "four minutes and a half more," said barbican. "oh! four and a half little minutes!" went on ardan. "only think of it! we are shut up in a bullet that lies in the chamber of a cannon nine hundred feet long. underneath this bullet is piled a charge of 400 thousand pounds of gun-cotton, equivalent to 1600 thousand pounds of ordinary gunpowder! and at this very instant our friend murphy, chronometer in hand, eye on dial, finger on discharger, is counting the last seconds and getting ready to launch us into the limitless regions of planetary--" "ardan, dear friend," interrupted barbican, in a grave tone, "a serious moment is now at hand. let us meet it with some interior recollection. give me your hands, my dear friends." "certainly," said ardan, with tears in his voice, and already at the other extreme of his apparent levity. the three brave men united in one last, silent, but warm and impulsively affectionate pressure. "and now, great god, our creator, protect us! in thee we trust!" prayed barbican, the others joining him with folded hands and bowed heads. "ten, forty-six!" whispered the captain, as he and ardan quietly took their places on the mattresses. only forty seconds more! barbican rapidly extinguishes the gas and lies down beside his companions. the deathlike silence now reigning in the projectile is interrupted only by the sharp ticking of the chronometer as it beats the seconds. suddenly, a dreadful shock is felt, and the projectile, shot up by the instantaneous development of 200,000 millions of cubic feet of gas, is flying into space with inconceivable rapidity! chapter ii. the first half hour. what had taken place within the projectile? what effect had been produced by the frightful concussion? had barbican's ingenuity been attended with a fortunate result? had the shock been sufficiently deadened by the springs, the buffers, the water layers, and the partitions so readily ruptured? had their combined effect succeeded in counteracting the tremendous violence of a velocity of 12,000 yards a second, actually sufficient to carry them from london to new york in six minutes? these, and a hundred other questions of a similar nature were asked that night by the millions who had been watching the explosion from the base of stony hill. themselves they forgot altogether for the moment; they forgot everything in their absorbing anxiety regarding the fate of the daring travellers. had one among them, our friend marston, for instance, been favored with a glimpse at the interior of the projectile, what would he have seen? nothing at all at first, on account of the darkness; except that the walls had solidly resisted the frightful shock. not a crack, nor a bend, nor a dent could be perceived; not even the slightest injury had the admirably constructed piece of mechanical workmanship endured. it had not yielded an inch to the enormous pressure, and, far from melting and falling back to earth, as had been so seriously apprehended, in showers of blazing aluminium, it was still as strong in every respect as it had been on the very day that it left the cold spring iron works, glittering like a silver dollar. of real damage there was actually none, and even the disorder into which things had been thrown in the interior by the violent shock was comparatively slight. a few small objects lying around loose had been furiously hurled against the ceiling, but the others appeared not to have suffered the slightest injury. the straps that fastened them up were unfrayed, and the fixtures that held them down were uncracked. the partitions beneath the disc having been ruptured, and the water having escaped, the false floor had been dashed with tremendous violence against the bottom of the projectile, and on this disc at this moment three human bodies could be seen lying perfectly still and motionless. were they three corpses? had the projectile suddenly become a great metallic coffin bearing its ghastly contents through the air with the rapidity of a lightning flash? in a very few minutes after the shock, one of the bodies stirred a little, the arms moved, the eyes opened, the head rose and tried to look around; finally, with some difficulty, the body managed to get on its knees. it was the frenchman! he held his head tightly squeezed between his hands for some time as if to keep it from splitting. then he felt himself rapidly all over, cleared his throat with a vigorous "hem!" listened to the sound critically for an instant, and then said to himself in a relieved tone, but in his native tongue: "one man all right! call the roll for the others!" he tried to rise, but the effort was too great for his strength. he fell back again, his brain swimming, his eyes bursting, his head splitting. his state very much resembled that of a young man waking up in the morning after his first tremendous "spree." "br--rr!" he muttered to himself, still talking french; "this reminds me of one of my wild nights long ago in the _quartier latin_, only decidedly more so!" lying quietly on his back for a while, he could soon feel that the circulation of his blood, so suddenly and violently arrested by the terrific shock, was gradually recovering its regular flow; his heart grew more normal in its action; his head became clearer, and the pain less distracting. "time to call that roll," he at last exclaimed in a voice with some pretensions to firmness; "barbican! macnicholl!" he listens anxiously for a reply. none comes. a snow-wrapt grave at midnight is not more silent. in vain does he try to catch even the faintest sound of breathing, though he listens intently enough to hear the beating of their hearts; but he hears only his own. "call that roll again!" he mutters in a voice far less assured than before; "barbican! macnicholl!" the same fearful unearthly stillness. "the thing is getting decidedly monotonous!" he exclaimed, still speaking french. then rapidly recovering his consciousness as the full horror of the situation began to break on his mind, he went on muttering audibly: "have they really hopped the twig? bah! fudge! what has not been able to knock the life out of one little frenchman can't have killed two americans! they're all right! but first and foremost, let us enlighten the situation!" so saying, he contrived without much difficulty to get on his feet. balancing himself then for a moment, he began groping about for the gas. but he stopped suddenly. "hold on a minute!" he cried; "before lighting this match, let us see if the gas has been escaping. setting fire to a mixture of air and hydrogen would make a pretty how-do-you-do! such an explosion would infallibly burst the projectile, which so far seems all right, though i'm blest if i can tell whether we're moving or not." he began sniffing and smelling to discover if possible the odor of escaped gas. he could not detect the slightest sign of anything of the kind. this gave him great courage. he knew of course that his senses were not yet in good order, still he thought he might trust them so far as to be certain that the gas had not escaped and that consequently all the other receptacles were uninjured. at the touch of the match, the gas burst into light and burned with a steady flame. ardan immediately bent anxiously over the prostrate bodies of his friends. they lay on each other like inert masses, m'nicholl stretched across barbican. ardan first lifted up the captain, laid him on the sofa, opened his clenched hands, rubbed them, and slapped the palms vigorously. then he went all over the body carefully, kneading it, rubbing it, and gently patting it. in such intelligent efforts to restore suspended circulation, he seemed perfectly at home, and after a few minutes his patience was rewarded by seeing the captain's pallid face gradually recover its natural color, and by feeling his heart gradually beat with a firm pulsation. at last m'nicholl opened his eyes, stared at ardan for an instant, pressed his hand, looked around searchingly and anxiously, and at last whispered in a faint voice: "how's barbican?" "barbican is all right, captain," answered ardan quietly, but still speaking french. "i'll attend to him in a jiffy. he had to wait for his turn. i began with you because you were the top man. we'll see in a minute what we can do for dear old barby (_ce cher barbican_)!" in less than thirty seconds more, the captain not only was able to sit up himself, but he even insisted on helping ardan to lift barbican, and deposit him gently on the sofa. [illustration: helped ardan to lift barbican.] the poor president had evidently suffered more from the concussion than either of his companions. as they took off his coat they were at first terribly shocked at the sight of a great patch of blood staining his shirt bosom, but they were inexpressibly relieved at finding that it proceeded from a slight contusion of the shoulder, little more than skin deep. every approved operation that ardan had performed for the captain, both now repeated for barbican, but for a long time with nothing like a favorable result. ardan at first tried to encourage the captain by whispers of a lively and hopeful nature, but not yet understanding why m'nicholl did not deign to make a single reply, he grew reserved by degrees and at last would not speak a single word. he worked at barbican, however, just as before. m'nicholl interrupted himself every moment to lay his ear on the breast of the unconscious man. at first he had shaken his head quite despondingly, but by degrees he found himself more and more encouraged to persist. "he breathes!" he whispered at last. "yes, he has been breathing for some time," replied ardan, quietly, still unconsciously speaking french. "a little more rubbing and pulling and pounding will make him as spry as a young grasshopper." they worked at him, in fact, so vigorously, intelligently and perseveringly, that, after what they considered a long hour's labor, they had the delight of seeing the pale face assume a healthy hue, the inert limbs give signs of returning animation, and the breathing become strong and regular. at last, barbican suddenly opened his eyes, started into an upright position on the sofa, took his friends by the hands, and, in a voice showing complete consciousness, demanded eagerly: "ardan, m'nicholl, are we moving?" his friends looked at each other, a little amused, but more perplexed. in their anxiety regarding their own and their friend's recovery, they had never thought of asking such a question. his words recalled them at once to a full sense of their situation. "moving? blessed if i can tell!" said ardan, still speaking french. "we may be lying fifty feet deep in a florida marsh, for all i know," observed m'nicholl. "or, likely as not, in the bottom of the gulf of mexico," suggested ardan, still in french. "suppose we find out," observed barbican, jumping up to try, his voice as clear and his step as firm as ever. but trying is one thing, and finding out another. having no means of comparing themselves with external objects, they could not possibly tell whether they were moving, or at an absolute stand-still. though our earth is whirling us continually around the sun at the tremendous speed of 500 miles a minute, its inhabitants are totally unconscious of the slightest motion. it was the same with our travellers. through their own personal consciousness they could tell absolutely nothing. were they shooting through space like a meteor? they could not tell. had they fallen back and buried themselves deep in the sandy soil of florida, or, still more likely, hundreds of fathoms deep beneath the waters of the gulf of mexico? they could not form the slightest idea. listening evidently could do no good. the profound silence proved nothing. the padded walls of the projectile were too thick to admit any sound whether of wind, water, or human beings. barbican, however, was soon struck forcibly by one circumstance. he felt himself to be very uncomfortably warm, and his friend's faces looked very hot and flushed. hastily removing the cover that protected the thermometer, he closely inspected it, and in an instant uttered a joyous exclamation. "hurrah!" he cried. "we're moving! there's no mistake about it. the thermometer marks 113 degrees fahrenheit. such a stifling heat could not come from the gas. it comes from the exterior walls of our projectile, which atmospheric friction must have made almost red hot. but this heat must soon diminish, because we are already far beyond the regions of the atmosphere, so that instead of smothering we shall be shortly in danger of freezing." "what?" asked ardan, much bewildered. "we are already far beyond the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere! why do you think so?" m'nicholl was still too much flustered to venture a word. "if you want me to answer your question satisfactorily, my dear ardan," replied barbican, with a quiet smile, "you will have the kindness to put your questions in english." "what do you mean, barbican!" asked ardan, hardly believing his ears. "hurrah!" cried m'nicholl, in the tone of a man who has suddenly made a welcome but most unexpected discovery. "i don't know exactly how it is with the captain," continued barbican, with the utmost tranquillity, "but for my part the study of the languages never was my strong point, and though i always admired the french, and even understood it pretty well, i never could converse in it without giving myself more trouble than i always find it convenient to assume." "you don't mean to say that i have been talking french to you all this time!" cried ardan, horror-stricken. "the most elegant french i ever heard, backed by the purest parisian accent," replied barbican, highly amused; "don't you think so, captain?" he added, turning to m'nicholl, whose countenance still showed the most comical traces of bewilderment. "well, i swan to man!" cried the captain, who always swore a little when his feelings got beyond his control; "ardan, the boss has got the rig on both of us this time, but rough as it is on you it is a darned sight more so on me. be hanged if i did not think you were talking english the whole time, and i put the whole blame for not understanding you on the disordered state of my brain!" ardan only stared, and scratched his head, but barbican actually--no, not _laughed_, that serene nature could not _laugh_. his cast-iron features puckered into a smile of the richest drollery, and his eyes twinkled with the wickedest fun; but no undignified giggle escaped the portal of those majestic lips. "it _sounds_ like french, i'd say to myself," continued the captain, "but i _know_ it's english, and by and by, when this whirring goes out of my head, i shall easily understand it." ardan now looked as if he was beginning to see the joke. "the most puzzling part of the thing to me," went on m'nicholl, giving his experience with the utmost gravity, "was why english sounded so like _french_. if it was simple incomprehensible gibberish, i could readily blame the state of my ears for it. but the idea that my bothered ears could turn a mere confused, muzzled, buzzing reverberation into a sweet, harmonious, articulate, though unintelligible, human language, made me sure that i was fast becoming crazy, if i was not so already." "ha! ha! ha!" roared ardan, laughing till the tears came. "now i understand why the poor captain made me no reply all the time, and looked at me with such a hapless woe-begone expression of countenance. the fact is, barbican, that shock was too much both for m'nicholl and myself. you are the only man among us whose head is fire-proof, blast-proof, and powder-proof. i really believe a burglar would have greater difficulty in blowing your head-piece open than in bursting one of those famous american safes your papers make such a fuss about. a wonderful head, the boss's, isn't it m'nicholl?" "yes," said the captain, as slowly as if every word were a gem of the profoundest thought, "the boss has a fearful and a wonderful head!" "but now to business!" cried the versatile ardan, "why do you think, barbican, that we are at present beyond the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere?" "for a very simple reason," said barbican, pointing to the chronometer; "it is now more than seven minutes after 11. we must, therefore, have been in motion more than twenty minutes. consequently, unless our initial velocity has been very much diminished by the friction, we must have long before this completely cleared the fifty miles of atmosphere enveloping the earth." "correct," said the captain, cool as a cucumber, because once more in complete possession of all his senses; "but how much do you think the initial velocity to have been diminished by the friction?" "by a third, according to my calculations," replied barbican, "which i think are right. supposing our initial velocity, therefore, to have been 12,000 yards per second, by the time we quitted the atmosphere it must have been reduced to 8,000 yards per second. at that rate, we must have gone by this time--" "then, mac, my boy, you've lost your two bets!" interrupted ardan. "the columbiad has not burst, four thousand dollars; the projectile has risen at least six miles, five thousand dollars; come, captain, bleed!" "let me first be sure we're right," said the captain, quietly. "i don't deny, you see, that friend barbican's arguments are quite right, and, therefore, that i have lost my nine thousand dollars. but there is another view of the case possible, which might annul the bet." "what other view?" asked barbican, quickly. "suppose," said the captain, very drily, "that the powder had not caught, and that we were still lying quietly at the bottom of the columbiad!" "by jove!" laughed ardan, "there's an idea truly worthy of my own nondescript brain! we must surely have changed heads during that concussion! no matter, there is some sense left in us yet. come now, captain, consider a little, if you can. weren't we both half-killed by the shock? didn't i rescue you from certain death with these two hands? don't you see barbican's shoulder still bleeding by the violence of the shock?" "correct, friend michael, correct in every particular," replied the captain, "but one little question." "out with it!" "friend michael, you say we're moving?" "yes." "in consequence of the explosion?" "certainly!" "which must have been attended with a tremendous report?" "of course!" "did you hear that report, friend michael?" "n--o," replied ardan, a little disconcerted at the question. "well, no; i can't say that i did hear any report." "did you, friend barbican?" "no," replied barbican, promptly. "i heard no report whatever." his answer was ready, but his look was quite as disconcerted as ardan's. "well, friend barbican and friend michael," said the captain, very drily as he leered wickedly at both, "put that and that together and tell me what you make of it." "it's a fact!" exclaimed barbican, puzzled, but not bewildered. "why did we not hear that report?" "too hard for me," said ardan. "give it up!" the three friends gazed at each other for a while with countenances expressive of much perplexity. barbican appeared to be the least self-possessed of the party. it was a complete turning of the tables from the state of things a few moments ago. the problem was certainly simple enough, but for that very reason the more inexplicable. if they were moving the explosion must have taken place; but if the explosion had taken place, why had they not heard the report? barbican's decision soon put an end to speculation. "conjecture being useless," said he, "let us have recourse to facts. first, let us see where we are. drop the deadlights!" this operation, simple enough in itself and being immediately undertaken by the whole three, was easily accomplished. the screws fastening the bolts by which the external plates of the deadlights were solidly pinned, readily yielded to the pressure of a powerful wrench. the bolts were then driven outwards, and the holes which had contained them were immediately filled with solid plugs of india rubber. the bolts once driven out, the external plates dropped by their own weight, turning on a hinge, like portholes, and the strong plate-glass forming the light immediately showed itself. a second light exactly similar, could be cleared away on the opposite side of the projectile; a third, on the summit of the dome, and a fourth, in the centre of the bottom. the travellers could thus take observations in four different directions, having an opportunity of gazing at the firmament through the side lights, and at the earth and the moon through the lower and the upper lights of the projectile. ardan and the captain had commenced examining the floor, previous to operating on the bottom light. but barbican was the first to get through his work at one of the side lights, and m'nicholl and ardan soon heard him shouting: "no, my friends!" he exclaimed, in tones of decided emotion; "we have _not_ fallen back to earth; nor are we lying in the bottom of the gulf of mexico. no! we are driving through space! look at the stars glittering all around! brighter, but smaller than we have ever seen them before! we have left the earth and the earth's atmosphere far behind us!" "hurrah! hurrah!" cried m'nicholl and ardan, feeling as if electric shocks were coursing through them, though they could see nothing, looking down from the side light, but the blackest and profoundest obscurity. barbican soon convinced them that this pitchy blackness proved that they were not, and could not be, reposing on the surface of the earth, where at that moment, everything was illuminated by the bright moonlight; also that they had passed the different layers of the atmosphere, where the diffused and refracted rays would be also sure to reveal themselves through the lights of the projectile. they were, therefore, certainly moving. no doubt was longer possible. "it's a fact!" observed the captain, now quite convinced. "then i've lost!" "let me congratulate you!" cried ardan, shaking his hand. "here is your nine thousand dollars, friend barbican," said the captain, taking a roll of greenbacks of high denomination out of his porte-monnaie. "you want a receipt, don't you, captain?" asked barbican, counting the money. "yes, i should prefer one, if it is not too much trouble," answered m'nicholl; "it saves dispute." coolly and mechanically, as if seated at his desk, in his office, barbican opened his memorandum book, wrote a receipt on a blank page, dated, signed and sealed it, and then handed it to the captain, who put it away carefully among the other papers of his portfolio. ardan, taking off his hat, made a profound bow to both of his companions, without saying a word. such formality, under such extraordinary circumstances, actually paralysed his tongue for the moment. no wonder that he could not understand those americans. even indians would have surprised him by an exhibition of such stoicism. after indulging in silent wonder for a minute or two, he joined his companions who were now busy looking out at the starry sky. "where is the moon?" he asked. "how is it that we cannot see her?" "the fact of our not seeing her," answered barbican, "gives me very great satisfaction in one respect; it shows that our projectile was shot so rapidly out of the columbiad that it had not time to be impressed with the slightest revolving motion--for us a most fortunate matter. as for the rest--see, there is _cassiopeia_, a little to the left is _andromeda_, further down is the great square of _pegasus_, and to the southwest _fomalhaut_ can be easily seen swallowing the _cascade_. all this shows we are looking west and consequently cannot see the moon, which is approaching the zenith from the east. open the other light--but hold on! look here! what can this be?" the three travellers, looking westwardly in the direction of _alpherat_, saw a brilliant object rapidly approaching them. at a distance, it looked like a dusky moon, but the side turned towards the earth blazed with a bright light, which every moment became more intense. it came towards them with prodigious velocity and, what was worse, its path lay so directly in the course of the projectile that a collision seemed inevitable. as it moved onward, from west to east, they could easily see that it rotated on its axis, like all heavenly bodies; in fact, it somewhat resembled a moon on a small scale, describing its regular orbit around the earth. "_mille tonerres!_" cried ardan, greatly excited; "what is that? can it be another projectile?" m'nicholl, wiping his spectacles, looked again, but made no reply. barbican looked puzzled and uneasy. a collision was quite possible, and the results, even if not frightful in the highest degree, must be extremely deplorable. the projectile, if not absolutely dashed to pieces, would be diverted from its own course and dragged along in a new one in obedience to the irresistible attraction of this furious asteroid. barbican fully realized that either alternative involved the complete failure of their enterprise. he kept perfectly still, but, never losing his presence of mind, he curiously looked on the approaching object with a gladiatorial eye, as if seeking to detect some unguarded point in his terrible adversary. the captain was equally silent; he looked like a man who had fully made up his mind to regard every possible contingency with the most stoical indifference. but ardan's tongue, more fluent than ever, rattled away incessantly. "look! look!" he exclaimed, in tones so perfectly expressive of his rapidly alternating feelings as to render the medium of words totally unnecessary. "how rapidly the cursed thing is nearing us! plague take your ugly phiz, the more i know you, the less i like you! every second she doubles in size! come, madame projectile! stir your stumps a little livelier, old lady! he's making for you as straight as an arrow! we're going right in his way, or he's coming in ours, i can't say which. it's taking a mean advantage of us either way. as for ourselves--what can _we_ do! before such a monster as that we are as helpless as three men in a little skiff shooting down the rapids to the brink of niagara! now for it!" nearer and nearer it came, but without noise, without sparks, without a trail, though its lower part was brighter than ever. its path lying little above them, the nearer it came the more the collision seemed inevitable. imagine yourself caught on a narrow railroad bridge at midnight with an express train approaching at full speed, its reflector already dazzling you with its light, the roar of the cars rattling in your ears, and you may conceive the feelings of the travellers. at last it was so near that the travellers started back in affright, with eyes shut, hair on end, and fully believing their last hour had come. even then ardan had his _mot_. "we can neither switch off, down brakes, nor clap on more steam! hard luck!" in an instant all was over. the velocity of the projectile was fortunately great enough to carry it barely above the dangerous point; and in a flash the terrible bolide disappeared rapidly several hundred yards beneath the affrighted travellers. "good bye! and may you never come back!" cried ardan, hardly able to breathe. "it's perfectly outrageous! not room enough in infinite space to let an unpretending bullet like ours move about a little without incurring the risk of being run over by such a monster as that! what is it anyhow? do you know, barbican?" "i do," was the reply. "of course, you do! what is it that he don't know? eh, captain?" "it is a simple bolide, but one of such enormous dimensions that the earth's attraction has made it a satellite." "what!" cried ardan, "another satellite besides the moon? i hope there are no more of them!" "they are pretty numerous," replied barbican; "but they are so small and they move with such enormous velocity that they are very seldom seen. petit, the director of the observatory of toulouse, who these last years has devoted much time and care to the observation of bolides, has calculated that the very one we have just encountered moves with such astonishing swiftness that it accomplishes its revolution around the earth in about 3 hours and 20 minutes!" "whew!" whistled ardan, "where should we be now if it had struck us!" "you don't mean to say, barbican," observed m'nicholl, "that petit has seen this very one?" "so it appears," replied barbican. "and do all astronomers admit its existence?" asked the captain. "well, some of them have their doubts," replied barbican-"if the unbelievers had been here a minute or two ago," interrupted ardan, "they would never express a doubt again." "if petit's calculation is right," continued barbican, "i can even form a very good idea as to our distance from the earth." "it seems to me barbican can do what he pleases here or elsewhere," observed ardan to the captain. "let us see, barbican," asked m'nicholl; "where has petit's calculation placed us?" "the bolide's distance being known," replied barbican, "at the moment we met it we were a little more than 5 thousand miles from the earth's surface." "five thousand miles already!" cried ardan, "why we have only just started!" "let us see about that," quietly observed the captain, looking at his chronometer, and calculating with his pencil. "it is now 10 minutes past eleven; we have therefore been 23 minutes on the road. supposing our initial velocity of 10,000 yards or nearly seven miles a second, to have been kept up, we should by this time be about 9,000 miles from the earth; but by allowing for friction and gravity, we can hardly be more than 5,500 miles. yes, friend barbican, petit does not seem to be very wrong in his calculations." but barbican hardly heard the observation. he had not yet answered the puzzling question that had already presented itself to them for solution; and until he had done so he could not attend to anything else. "that's all very well and good, captain," he replied in an absorbed manner, "but we have not yet been able to account for a very strange phenomenon. why didn't we hear the report?" no one replying, the conversation came to a stand-still, and barbican, still absorbed in his reflections, began clearing the second light of its external shutter. in a few minutes the plate dropped, and the moon beams, flowing in, filled the interior of the projectile with her brilliant light. the captain immediately put out the gas, from motives of economy as well as because its glare somewhat interfered with the observation of the interplanetary regions. the lunar disc struck the travellers as glittering with a splendor and purity of light that they had never witnessed before. the beams, no longer strained through the misty atmosphere of the earth, streamed copiously in through the glass and coated the interior walls of the projectile with a brilliant silvery plating. the intense blackness of the sky enhanced the dazzling radiance of the moon. even the stars blazed with a new and unequalled splendor, and, in the absence of a refracting atmosphere, they flamed as bright in the close proximity of the moon as in any other part of the sky. you can easily conceive the interest with which these bold travellers gazed on the starry queen, the final object of their daring journey. she was now insensibly approaching the zenith, the mathematical point which she was to reach four days later. they presented their telescopes, but her mountains, plains, craters and general characteristics hardly came out a particle more sharply than if they had been viewed from the earth. still, her light, unobstructed by air or vapor, shimmered with a lustre actually transplendent. her disc shone like a mirror of polished platins. the travellers remained for some time absorbed in the silent contemplation of the glorious scene. "how they're gazing at her this very moment from stony hill!" said the captain at last to break the silence. "by jove!" cried ardan; "it's true! captain you're right. we were near forgetting our dear old mother, the earth. what ungrateful children! let me feast my eyes once more on the blessed old creature!" barbican, to satisfy his companion's desire, immediately commenced to clear away the disc which covered the floor of the projectile and prevented them from getting at the lower light. this disc, though it had been dashed to the bottom of the projectile with great violence, was still as strong as ever, and, being made in compartments fastened by screws, to dismount it was no easy matter. barbican, however, with the help of the others, soon had it all taken apart, and put away the pieces carefully, to serve again in case of need. a round hole about a foot and a half in diameter appeared, bored through the floor of the projectile. it was closed by a circular pane of plate-glass, which was about six inches thick, fastened by a ring of copper. below, on the outside, the glass was protected by an aluminium plate, kept in its place by strong bolts and nuts. the latter being unscrewed, the bolts slipped out by their own weight, the shutter fell, and a new communication was established between the interior and the exterior. ardan knelt down, applied his eye to the light, and tried to look out. at first everything was quite dark and gloomy. "i see no earth!" he exclaimed at last. "don't you see a fine ribbon of light?" asked barbican, "right beneath us? a thin, pale, silvery crescent?" "of course i do. can that be the earth?" "_terra mater_ herself, friend ardan. that fine fillet of light, now hardly visible on her eastern border, will disappear altogether as soon as the moon is full. then, lying as she will be between the sun and the moon, her illuminated face will be turned away from us altogether, and for several days she will be involved in impenetrable darkness." "and that's the earth!" repeated ardan, hardly able to believe his eyes, as he continued to gaze on the slight thread of silvery white light, somewhat resembling the appearance of the "young may moon" a few hours after sunset. barbican's explanation was quite correct. the earth, in reference to the moon or the projectile, was in her last phase, or octant as it is called, and showed a sharp-horned, attenuated, but brilliant crescent strongly relieved by the black background of the sky. its light, rendered a little bluish by the density of the atmospheric envelopes, was not quite as brilliant as the moon's. but the earth's crescent, compared to the lunar, was of dimensions much greater, being fully 4 times larger. you would have called it a vast, beautiful, but very thin bow extending over the sky. a few points, brighter than the rest, particularly in its concave part, revealed the presence of lofty mountains, probably the himalayahs. but they disappeared every now and then under thick vapory spots, which are never seen on the lunar disc. they were the thin concentric cloud rings that surround the terrestrial sphere. however, the travellers' eyes were soon able to trace the rest of the earth's surface not only with facility, but even to follow its outline with absolute delight. this was in consequence of two different phenomena, one of which they could easily account for; but the other they could not explain without barbican's assistance. no wonder. never before had mortal eye beheld such a sight. let us take each in its turn. we all know that the ashy light by means of which we perceive what is called the _old moon in the young moon's arms_ is due to the earth-shine, or the reflection of the solar rays from the earth to the moon. by a phenomenon exactly identical, the travellers could now see that portion of the earth's surface which was unillumined by the sun; only, as, in consequence of the different areas of the respective surfaces, the _earthlight_ is thirteen times more intense than the _moonlight_, the dark portion of the earth's disc appeared considerably more adumbrated than the _old moon_. but the other phenomenon had burst on them so suddenly that they uttered a cry loud enough to wake up barbican from his problem. they had discovered a true starry ring! around the earth's outline, a ring, of internally well defined thickness, but somewhat hazy on the outside, could easily be traced by its surpassing brilliancy. neither the _pleiades_, the _northern crown_, the _magellanic clouds_ nor the great nebulas of _orion_, or of _argo_, no sparkling cluster, no corona, no group of glittering star-dust that the travellers had ever gazed at, presented such attractions as the diamond ring they now saw encompassing the earth, just as the brass meridian encompasses a terrestrial globe. the resplendency of its light enchanted them, its pure softness delighted them, its perfect regularity astonished them. what was it? they asked barbican. in a few words he explained it. the beautiful luminous ring was simply an optical illusion, produced by the refraction of the terrestrial atmosphere. all the stars in the neighborhood of the earth, and many actually behind it, had their rays refracted, diffused, radiated, and finally converged to a focus by the atmosphere, as if by a double convex lens of gigantic power. whilst the travellers were profoundly absorbed in the contemplation of this wondrous sight, a sparkling shower of shooting stars suddenly flashed over the earth's dark surface, making it for a moment as bright as the external ring. hundreds of bolides, catching fire from contact with the atmosphere, streaked the darkness with their luminous trails, overspreading it occasionally with sheets of electric flame. the earth was just then in her perihelion, and we all know that the months of november and december are so highly favorable to the appearance of these meteoric showers that at the famous display of november, 1866, astronomers counted as many as 8,000 between midnight and four o'clock. barbican explained the whole matter in a few words. the earth, when nearest to the sun, occasionally plunges into a group of countless meteors travelling like comets, in eccentric orbits around the grand centre of our solar system. the atmosphere strikes the rapidly moving bodies with such violence as to set them on fire and render them visible to us in beautiful star showers. but to this simple explanation of the famous november meteors ardan would not listen. he preferred believing that mother earth, feeling that her three daring children were still looking at her, though five thousand miles away, shot off her best rocket-signals to show that she still thought of them and would never let them out of her watchful eye. for hours they continued to gaze with indescribable interest on the faintly luminous mass so easily distinguishable among the other heavenly bodies. jupiter blazed on their right, mars flashed his ruddy light on their left, saturn with his rings looked like a round white spot on a black wall; even venus they could see almost directly under them, easily recognizing her by her soft, sweetly scintillant light. but no planet or constellation possessed any attraction for the travellers, as long as their eyes could trace that shadowy, crescent-edged, diamond-girdled, meteor-furrowed spheroid, the theatre of their existence, the home of so many undying desires, the mysterious cradle of their race! meantime the projectile cleaved its way upwards, rapidly, unswervingly, though with a gradually retarding velocity. as the earth sensibly grew darker, and the travellers' eyes grew dimmer, an irresistible somnolency slowly stole over their weary frames. the extraordinary excitement they had gone through during the last four or five hours, was naturally followed by a profound reaction. "captain, you're nodding," said ardan at last, after a longer silence than usual; "the fact is, barbican is the only wake man of the party, because he is puzzling over his problem. _dum vivimus vivamus_! as we are asleep let us be asleep!" so saying he threw himself on the mattress, and his companions immediately followed the example. they had been lying hardly a quarter of an hour, when barbican started up with a cry so loud and sudden as instantly to awaken his companions. the bright moonlight showed them the president sitting up in his bed, his eye blazing, his arms waving, as he shouted in a tone reminding them of the day they had found him in st. helena wood. "_eureka!_ i've got it! i know it!" "what have you got?" cried ardan, bouncing up and seizing him by the right hand. "what do you know?" cried the captain, stretching over and seizing him by the left. "the reason why we did not hear the report!" "well, why did not we hear it!" asked both rapidly in the same breath. "because we were shot up 30 times faster than sound can travel!" chapter iii. they make themselves at home and feel quite comfortable. this curious explanation given, and its soundness immediately recognized, the three friends were soon fast wrapped in the arms of morpheus. where in fact could they have found a spot more favorable for undisturbed repose? on land, where the dwellings, whether in populous city or lonely country, continually experience every shock that thrills the earth's crust? at sea, where between waves or winds or paddles or screws or machinery, everything is tremor, quiver or jar? in the air, where the balloon is incessantly twirling, oscillating, on account of the ever varying strata of different densities, and even occasionally threatening to spill you out? the projectile alone, floating grandly through the absolute void, in the midst of the profoundest silence, could offer to its inmates the possibility of enjoying slumber the most complete, repose the most profound. there is no telling how long our three daring travellers would have continued to enjoy their sleep, if it had not been suddenly terminated by an unexpected noise about seven o'clock in the morning of december 2nd, eight hours after their departure. this noise was most decidedly of barking. "the dogs! it's the dogs!" cried ardan, springing up at a bound. "they must be hungry!" observed the captain. "we have forgotten the poor creatures!" cried barbican. "where can they have gone to?" asked ardan, looking for them in all directions. at last they found one of them hiding under the sofa. thunderstruck and perfectly bewildered by the terrible shock, the poor animal had kept close in its hiding place, never daring to utter a sound, until at last the pangs of hunger had proved too strong even for its fright. they readily recognized the amiable diana, but they could not allure the shivering, whining animal from her retreat without a good deal of coaxing. ardan talked to her in his most honeyed and seductive accents, while trying to pull her out by the neck. "come out to your friends, charming diana," he went on, "come out, my beauty, destined for a lofty niche in the temple of canine glory! come out, worthy scion of a race deemed worthy by the egyptians to be a companion of the great god, anubis, by the christians, to be a friend of the good saint roch! come out and partake of a glory before which the stars of montargis and of st. bernard shall henceforward pale their ineffectual fire! come out, my lady, and let me think o'er the countless multiplication of thy species, so that, while sailing through the interplanetary spaces, we may indulge in endless flights of fancy on the number and variety of thy descendants who will ere long render the selenitic atmosphere vocal with canine ululation!" [illustration: more hungry than either.] diana, whether flattered or not, allowed herself to be dragged out, still uttering short, plaintive whines. a hasty examination satisfying her friends that she was more frightened than hurt and more hungry than either, they continued their search for her companion. "satellite! satellite! step this way, sir!" cried ardan. but no satellite appeared and, what was worse, not the slightest sound indicated his presence. at last he was discovered on a ledge in the upper portion of the projectile, whither he had been shot by the terrible concussion. less fortunate than his female companion, the poor fellow had received a frightful shock and his life was evidently in great danger. "the acclimatization project looks shaky!" cried ardan, handing the animal very carefully and tenderly to the others. poor satellite's head had been crushed against the roof, but, though recovery seemed hopeless, they laid the body on a soft cushion, and soon had the satisfaction of hearing it give vent to a slight sigh. "good!" said ardan, "while there's life there's hope. you must not die yet, old boy. we shall nurse you. we know our duty and shall not shirk the responsibility. i should rather lose the right arm off my body than be the cause of your death, poor satellite! try a little water?" the suffering creature swallowed the cool draught with evident avidity, then sunk into a deep slumber. the friends, sitting around and having nothing more to do, looked out of the window and began once more to watch the earth and the moon with great attention. the glittering crescent of the earth was evidently narrower than it had been the preceding evening, but its volume was still enormous when compared to the lunar crescent, which was now rapidly assuming the proportions of a perfect circle. "by jove," suddenly exclaimed ardan, "why didn't we start at the moment of full earth?--that is when our globe and the sun were in opposition?" "why _should_ we!" growled m'nicholl. "because in that case we should be now looking at the great continents and the great seas in a new light--the former glittering under the solar rays, the latter darker and somewhat shaded, as we see them on certain maps. how i should like to get a glimpse at those poles of the earth, on which the eye of man has never yet lighted!" "true," replied barbican, "but if the earth had been full, the moon would have been new, that is to say, invisible to us on account of solar irradiation. of the two it is much preferable to be able to keep the point of arrival in view rather than the point of departure." "you're right, barbican," observed the captain; "besides, once we're in the moon, the long lunar night will give us plenty of time to gaze our full at yonder great celestial body, our former home, and still swarming with our fellow beings." "our fellow beings no longer, dear boy!" cried ardan. "we inhabit a new world peopled by ourselves alone, the projectile! ardan is barbican's fellow being, and barbican m'nicholl's. beyond us, outside us, humanity ends, and we are now the only inhabitants of this microcosm, and so we shall continue till the moment when we become selenites pure and simple." "which shall be in about eighty-eight hours from now," replied the captain. "which is as much as to say--?" asked ardan. "that it is half past eight," replied m'nicholl. "my regular hour for breakfast," exclaimed ardan, "and i don't see the shadow of a reason for changing it now." the proposition was most acceptable, especially to the captain, who frequently boasted that, whether on land or water, on mountain summits or in the depths of mines, he had never missed a meal in all his life. in escaping from the earth, our travellers felt that they had by no means escaped from the laws of humanity, and their stomachs now called on them lustily to fill the aching void. ardan, as a frenchman, claimed the post of chief cook, an important office, but his companions yielded it with alacrity. the gas furnished the requisite heat, and the provision chest supplied the materials for their first repast. they commenced with three plates of excellent soup, extracted from _liebig's_ precious tablets, prepared from the best beef that ever roamed over the pampas. to this succeeded several tenderloin beefsteaks, which, though reduced to a small bulk by the hydraulic engines of the _american dessicating company_, were pronounced to be fully as tender, juicy and savory as if they had just left the gridiron of a london club house. ardan even swore that they were "bleeding," and the others were too busy to contradict him. preserved vegetables of various kinds, "fresher than nature," according to ardan, gave an agreeable variety to the entertainment, and these were followed by several cups of magnificent tea, unanimously allowed to be the best they had ever tasted. it was an odoriferous young hyson gathered that very year, and presented to the emperor of russia by the famous rebel chief yakub kushbegi, and of which alexander had expressed himself as very happy in being able to send a few boxes to his friend, the distinguished president of the baltimore gun club. to crown the meal, ardan unearthed an exquisite bottle of _chambertin_, and, in glasses sparkling with the richest juice of the _cote d'or,_ the travellers drank to the speedy union of the earth and her satellite. and, as if his work among the generous vineyards of burgundy had not been enough to show his interest in the matter, even the sun wished to join the party. precisely at this moment, the projectile beginning to leave the conical shadow cast by the earth, the rays of the glorious king of day struck its lower surface, not obliquely, but perpendicularly, on account of the slight obliquity of the moon's orbit with that of the earth. [illustration: to the union of the earth and her satellite.] "the sun," cried ardan. "of course," said barbican, looking at his watch, "he's exactly up to time." "how is it that we see him only through the bottom light of our projectile?" asked ardan. "a moment's reflection must tell you," replied barbican, "that when we started last night, the sun was almost directly below us; therefore, as we continue to move in a straight line, he must still be in our rear." "that's clear enough," said the captain, "but another consideration, i'm free to say, rather perplexes me. since our earth lies between us and the sun, why don't we see the sunlight forming a great ring around the globe, in other words, instead of the full sun that we plainly see there below, why do we not witness an annular eclipse?" "your cool, clear head has not yet quite recovered from the shock, my dear captain;" replied barbican, with a smile. "for two reasons we can't see the ring eclipse: on account of the angle the moon's orbit makes with the earth, the three bodies are not at present in a direct line; we, therefore, see the sun a little to the west of the earth; secondly, even if they were exactly in a straight line, we should still be far from the point whence an annular eclipse would be visible." "that's true," said ardan; "the cone of the earth's shadow must extend far beyond the moon." "nearly four times as far," said barbican; "still, as the moon's orbit and the earth's do not lie in exactly the same plane, a lunar eclipse can occur only when the nodes coincide with the period of the full moon, which is generally twice, never more than three times in a year. if we had started about four days before the occurrence of a lunar eclipse, we should travel all the time in the dark. this would have been obnoxious for many reasons." "one, for instance?" "an evident one is that, though at the present moment we are moving through a vacuum, our projectile, steeped in the solar rays, revels in their light and heat. hence great saving in gas, an important point in our household economy." in effect, the solar rays, tempered by no genial medium like our atmosphere, soon began to glare and glow with such intensity, that the projectile under their influence, felt like suddenly passing from winter to summer. between the moon overhead and the sun beneath it was actually inundated with fiery rays. "one feels good here," cried the captain, rubbing his hands. "a little too good," cried ardan. "it's already like a hot-house. with a little garden clay, i could raise you a splendid crop of peas in twenty-four hours. i hope in heaven the walls of our projectile won't melt like wax!" "don't be alarmed, dear friend," observed barbican, quietly. "the projectile has seen the worst as far as heat is concerned; when tearing through the atmosphere, she endured a temperature with which what she is liable to at present stands no comparison. in fact, i should not be astonished if, in the eyes of our friends at stony hill, it had resembled for a moment or two a red-hot meteor." "poor marston must have looked on us as roasted alive!" observed ardan. "what could have saved us i'm sure i can't tell," replied barbican. "i must acknowledge that against such a danger, i had made no provision whatever." "i knew all about it," said the captain, "and on the strength of it, i had laid my fifth wager." "probably," laughed ardan, "there was not time enough to get grilled in: i have heard of men who dipped their fingers into molten iron with impunity." whilst ardan and the captain were arguing the point, barbican began busying himself in making everything as comfortable as if, instead of a four days' journey, one of four years was contemplated. the reader, no doubt, remembers that the floor of the projectile contained about 50 square feet; that the chamber was nine feet high; that space was economized as much as possible, nothing but the most absolute necessities being admitted, of which each was kept strictly in its own place; therefore, the travellers had room enough to move around in with a certain liberty. the thick glass window in the floor was quite as solid as any other part of it; but the sun, streaming in from below, lit up the projectile strangely, producing some very singular and startling effects of light appearing to come in by the wrong way. the first thing now to be done was to see after the water cask and the provision chest. they were not injured in the slightest respect, thanks to the means taken to counteract the shock. the provisions were in good condition, and abundant enough to supply the travellers for a whole year--barbican having taken care to be on the safe side, in case the projectile might land in a deserted region of the moon. as for the water and the other liquors, the travellers had enough only for two months. relying on the latest observations of astronomers, they had convinced themselves that the moon's atmosphere, being heavy, dense and thick in the deep valleys, springs and streams of water could hardly fail to show themselves there. during the journey, therefore, and for the first year of their installation on the lunar continent, the daring travellers would be pretty safe from all danger of hunger or thirst. the air supply proved also to be quite satisfactory. the _reiset_ and _regnault_ apparatus for producing oxygen contained a supply of chlorate of potash sufficient for two months. as the productive material had to be maintained at a temperature of between 7 and 8 hundred degrees fahr., a steady consumption of gas was required; but here too the supply far exceeded the demand. the whole arrangement worked charmingly, requiring only an odd glance now and then. the high temperature changing the chlorate into a chloride, the oxygen was disengaged gradually but abundantly, every eighteen pounds of chlorate of potash, furnishing the seven pounds of oxygen necessary for the daily consumption of the inmates of the projectile. still--as the reader need hardly be reminded--it was not sufficient to renew the exhausted oxygen; the complete purification of the air required the absorption of the carbonic acid, exhaled from the lungs. for nearly 12 hours the atmosphere had been gradually becoming more and more charged with this deleterious gas, produced from the combustion of the blood by the inspired oxygen. the captain soon saw this, by noticing with what difficulty diana was panting. she even appeared to be smothering, for the carbonic acid--as in the famous _grotto del cane_ on the banks of lake agnano, near naples--was collecting like water on the floor of the projectile, on account of its great specific gravity. it already threatened the poor dog's life, though not yet endangering that of her masters. the captain, seeing this state of things, hastily laid on the floor one or two cups containing caustic potash and water, and stirred the mixture gently: this substance, having a powerful affinity for carbonic acid, greedily absorbed it, and after a few moments the air was completely purified. the others had begun by this time to check off the state of the instruments. the thermometer and the barometer were all right, except one self-recorder of which the glass had got broken. an excellent aneroid barometer, taken safe and sound out of its wadded box, was carefully hung on a hook in the wall. it marked not only the pressure of the air in the projectile, but also the quantity of the watery vapor that it contained. the needle, oscillating a little beyond thirty, pointed pretty steadily at "_fair_." the mariner's compasses were also found to be quite free from injury. it is, of course, hardly necessary to say that the needles pointed in no particular direction, the magnetic pole of the earth being unable at such a distance to exercise any appreciable influence on them. but when brought to the moon, it was expected that these compasses, once more subjected to the influence of the current, would attest certain phenomena. in any case, it would be interesting to verify if the earth and her satellite were similarly affected by the magnetic forces. a hypsometer, or instrument for ascertaining the heights of the lunar mountains by the barometric pressure under which water boils, a sextant to measure the altitude of the sun, a theodolite for taking horizontal or vertical angles, telescopes, of indispensable necessity when the travellers should approach the moon,--all these instruments, carefully examined, were found to be still in perfect working order, notwithstanding the violence of the terrible shock at the start. as to the picks, spades, and other tools that had been carefully selected by the captain; also the bags of various kinds of grain and the bundles of various kinds of shrubs, which ardan expected to transplant to the lunar plains--they were all still safe in their places around the upper corners of the projectile. some other articles were also up there which evidently possessed great interest for the frenchman. what they were nobody else seemed to know, and he seemed to be in no hurry to tell. every now and then, he would climb up, by means of iron pins fixed in the wall, to inspect his treasures; whatever they were, he arranged them and rearranged them with evident pleasure, and as he rapidly passed a careful hand through certain mysterious boxes, he joyfully sang in the falsest possible of false voices the lively piece from _nicolo_: _le temps est beau, la route est belle, la promenade est un plaisir_. {the day is bright, our hearts are light.} {how sweet to rove through wood and dell.} or the well known air in _mignon_: _legères hirondelles, oiseaux bénis de dieu, ouvrez-ouvrez vos ailes, envolez-vous! adieu!_ {farewell, happy swallows, farewell!} {with summer for ever to dwell} {ye leave our northern strand} {for the genial southern land} {balmy with breezes bland.} {return? ah, who can tell?} {farewell, happy swallows, farewell!} barbican was much gratified to find that his rockets and other fireworks had not received the least injury. he relied upon them for the performance of a very important service as soon as the projectile, having passed the point of neutral attraction between the earth and the moon, would begin to fall with accelerated velocity towards the lunar surface. this descent, though--thanks to the respective volumes of the attracting bodies--six times less rapid than it would have been on the surface of the earth, would still be violent enough to dash the projectile into a thousand pieces. but barbican confidently expected by means of his powerful rockets to offer very considerable obstruction to the violence of this fall, if not to counteract its terrible effects altogether. the inspection having thus given general satisfaction, the travellers once more set themselves to watching external space through the lights in the sides and the floor of the projectile. everything still appeared to be in the same state as before. nothing was changed. the vast arch of the celestial dome glittered with stars, and constellations blazed with a light clear and pure enough to throw an astronomer into an ecstasy of admiration. below them shone the sun, like the mouth of a white-hot furnace, his dazzling disc defined sharply on the pitch-black back-ground of the sky. above them the moon, reflecting back his rays from her glowing surface, appeared to stand motionless in the midst of the starry host. a little to the east of the sun, they could see a pretty large dark spot, like a hole in the sky, the broad silver fringe on one edge fading off into a faint glimmering mist on the other--it was the earth. here and there in all directions, nebulous masses gleamed like large flakes of star dust, in which, from nadir to zenith, the eye could trace without a break that vast ring of impalpable star powder, the famous _milky way_, through the midst of which the beams of our glorious sun struggle with the dusky pallor of a star of only the fourth magnitude. our observers were never weary of gazing on this magnificent and novel spectacle, of the grandeur of which, it is hardly necessary to say, no description can give an adequate idea. what profound reflections it suggested to their understandings! what vivid emotions it enkindled in their imaginations! barbican, desirous of commenting the story of the journey while still influenced by these inspiring impressions, noted carefully hour by hour every fact that signalized the beginning of his enterprise. he wrote out his notes very carefully and systematically, his round full hand, as business-like as ever, never betraying the slightest emotion. the captain was quite as busy, but in a different way. pulling out his tablets, he reviewed his calculations regarding the motion of projectiles, their velocities, ranges and paths, their retardations and their accelerations, jotting down the figures with a rapidity wonderful to behold. ardan neither wrote nor calculated, but kept up an incessant fire of small talk, now with barbican, who hardly ever answered him, now with m'nicholl, who never heard him, occasionally with diana, who never understood him, but oftenest with himself, because, as he said, he liked not only to talk to a sensible man but also to hear what a sensible man had to say. he never stood still for a moment, but kept "bobbing around" with the effervescent briskness of a bee, at one time roosting at the top of the ladder, at another peering through the floor light, now to the right, then to the left, always humming scraps from the _opera bouffe_, but never changing the air. in the small space which was then a whole world to the travellers, he represented to the life the animation and loquacity of the french, and i need hardly say he played his part to perfection. the eventful day, or, to speak more correctly, the space of twelve hours which with us forms a day, ended for our travellers with an abundant supper, exquisitely cooked. it was highly enjoyed. no incident had yet occurred of a nature calculated to shake their confidence. apprehending none therefore, full of hope rather and already certain of success, they were soon lost in a peaceful slumber, whilst the projectile, moving rapidly, though with a velocity uniformly retarding, still cleaved its way through the pathless regions of the empyrean. chapter iv. a chapter for the cornell girls. no incident worth recording occurred during the night, if night indeed it could be called. in reality there was now no night or even day in the projectile, or rather, strictly speaking, it was always _night_ on the upper end of the bullet, and always _day_ on the lower. whenever, therefore, the words _night_ and _day_ occur in our story, the reader will readily understand them as referring to those spaces of time that are so called in our earthly almanacs, and were so measured by the travellers' chronometers. the repose of our friends must indeed have been undisturbed, if absolute freedom from sound or jar of any kind could secure tranquillity. in spite of its immense velocity, the projectile still seemed to be perfectly motionless. not the slightest sign of movement could be detected. change of locality, though ever so rapid, can never reveal itself to our senses when it takes place in a vacuum, or when the enveloping atmosphere travels at the same rate as the moving body. though we are incessantly whirled around the sun at the rate of about seventy thousand miles an hour, which of us is conscious of the slightest motion? in such a case, as far as sensation is concerned, motion and repose are absolutely identical. neither has any effect one way or another on a material body. is such a body in motion? it remains in motion until some obstacle stops it. is it at rest? it remains at rest until some superior force compels it to change its position. this indifference of bodies to motion or rest is what physicists call _inertia_. barbican and his companions, therefore, shut up in the projectile, could readily imagine themselves to be completely motionless. had they been outside, the effect would have been precisely the same. no rush of air, no jarring sensation would betray the slightest movement. but for the sight of the moon gradually growing larger above them, and of the earth gradually growing smaller beneath them, they could safely swear that they were fast anchored in an ocean of deathlike immobility. towards the morning of next day (december 3), they were awakened by a joyful, but quite unexpected sound. "cock-a-doodle! doo!" accompanied by a decided flapping of wings. the frenchman, on his feet in one instant and on the top of the ladder in another, attempted to shut the lid of a half open box, speaking in an angry but suppressed voice: "stop this hullabaloo, won't you? do you want me to fail in my great combination!" "hello?" cried barbican and m'nicholl, starting up and rubbing their eyes. "what noise was that?" asked barbican. "seems to me i heard the crowing of a cock," observed the captain. "i never thought your ears could be so easily deceived, captain," cried ardan, quickly, "let us try it again," and, flapping his ribs with his arms, he gave vent to a crow so loud and natural that the lustiest chanticleer that ever saluted the orb of day might be proud of it. the captain roared right out, and even barbican snickered, but as they saw that their companion evidently wanted to conceal something, they immediately assumed straight faces and pretended to think no more about the matter. "barbican," said ardan, coming down the ladder and evidently anxious to change the conversation, "have you any idea of what i was thinking about all night?" "not the slightest." "i was thinking of the promptness of the reply you received last year from the authorities of cambridge university, when you asked them about the feasibility of sending a bullet to the moon. you know very well by this time what a perfect ignoramus i am in mathematics. i own i have been often puzzled when thinking on what grounds they could form such a positive opinion, in a case where i am certain that the calculation must be an exceedingly delicate matter." "the feasibility, you mean to say," replied barbican, "not exactly of sending a bullet to the moon, but of sending it to the neutral point between the earth and the moon, which lies at about nine-tenths of the journey, where the two attractions counteract each other. because that point once passed, the projectile would reach the moon's surface by virtue of its own weight." "well, reaching that neutral point be it;" replied ardan, "but, once more, i should like to know how they have been able to come at the necessary initial velocity of 12,000 yards a second?" "nothing simpler," answered barbican. "could you have done it yourself?" asked the frenchman. "without the slightest difficulty. the captain and myself could have readily solved the problem, only the reply from the university saved us the trouble." "well, barbican, dear boy," observed ardan, "all i've got to say is, you might chop the head off my body, beginning with my feet, before you could make me go through such a calculation." "simply because you don't understand algebra," replied barbican, quietly. "oh! that's all very well!" cried ardan, with an ironical smile. "you great _x+y_ men think you settle everything by uttering the word _algebra_!" "ardan," asked barbican, "do you think people could beat iron without a hammer, or turn up furrows without a plough?" "hardly." "well, algebra is an instrument or utensil just as much as a hammer or a plough, and a very good instrument too if you know how to make use of it." "you're in earnest?" "quite so." "and you can handle the instrument right before my eyes?" "certainly, if it interests you so much." "you can show me how they got at the initial velocity of our projectile?" "with the greatest pleasure. by taking into proper consideration all the elements of the problem, viz.: (1) the distance between the centres of the earth and the moon, (2) the earth's radius, (3) its volume, and (4) the moon's volume, i can easily calculate what must be the initial velocity, and that too by a very simple formula." "let us have the formula." "in one moment; only i can't give you the curve really described by the projectile as it moves between the earth and the moon; this is to be obtained by allowing for their combined movement around the sun. i will consider the earth and the sun to be motionless, that being sufficient for our present purpose." "why so?" "because to give you that exact curve would be to solve a point in the 'problem of the three bodies,' which integral calculus has not yet reached." "what!" cried ardan, in a mocking tone, "is there really anything that mathematics can't do?" "yes," said barbican, "there is still a great deal that mathematics can't even attempt." "so far, so good;" resumed ardan. "now then what is this integral calculus of yours?" "it is a branch of mathematics that has for its object the summation of a certain infinite series of indefinitely small terms: but for the solution of which, we must generally know the function of which a given function is the differential coefficient. in other words," continued barbican, "in it we return from the differential coefficient, to the function from which it was deduced." "clear as mud!" cried ardan, with a hearty laugh. "now then, let me have a bit of paper and a pencil," added barbican, "and in half an hour you shall have your formula; meantime you can easily find something interesting to do." in a few seconds barbican was profoundly absorbed in his problem, while m'nicholl was watching out of the window, and ardan was busily employed in preparing breakfast. the morning meal was not quite ready, when barbican, raising his head, showed ardan a page covered with algebraic signs at the end of which stood the following formula:- 1 2 2 r m' r r --(v' v ) = gr {--1 + --(---------) } 2 x m d x d r "which means?" asked ardan. "it means," said the captain, now taking part in the discussion, "that the half of _v_ prime squared minus _v_ squared equals _gr_ multiplied by _r_ over _x_ minus one plus _m_ prime over _m_ multiplied by _r_ over _d_ minus _x_ minus _r_ over _d_ minus _r_ ... that is--" "that is," interrupted ardan, in a roar of laughter, "_x_ stradlegs on _y_, making for _z_ and jumping over _p_! do _you_ mean to say you understand the terrible jargon, captain?" "nothing is clearer, ardan." "you too, captain! then of course i must give in gracefully, and declare that the sun at noon-day is not more palpably evident than the sense of barbican's formula." "you asked for algebra, you know," observed barbican. "rock crystal is nothing to it!" "the fact is, barbican," said the captain, who had been looking over the paper, "you have worked the thing out very well. you have the integral equation of the living forces, and i have no doubt it will give us the result sought for." "yes, but i should like to understand it, you know," cried ardan: "i would give ten years of the captain's life to understand it!" "listen then," said barbican. "half of _v_ prime squared less _v_ squared, is the formula giving us the half variation of the living force." "mac pretends he understands all that!" "you need not be a _solomon_ to do it," said the captain. "all these signs that you appear to consider so cabalistic form a language the clearest, the shortest, and the most logical, for all those who can read it." "you pretend, captain, that, by means of these hieroglyphics, far more incomprehensible than the sacred ibis of the egyptians, you can discover the velocity at which the projectile should start?" "most undoubtedly," replied the captain, "and, by the same formula i can even tell you the rate of our velocity at any particular point of our journey." "you can?" "i can." "then you're just as deep a one as our president." "no, ardan; not at all. the really difficult part of the question barbican has done. that is, to make out such an equation as takes into account all the conditions of the problem. after that, it's a simple affair of arithmetic, requiring only a knowledge of the four rules to work it out." "very simple," observed ardan, who always got muddled at any kind of a difficult sum in addition. "captain," said barbican, "_you_ could have found the formulas too, if you tried." "i don't know about that," was the captain's reply, "but i do know that this formula is wonderfully come at." "now, ardan, listen a moment," said barbican, "and you will see what sense there is in all these letters." "i listen," sighed ardan with the resignation of a martyr. "_d_ is the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the moon, for it is from the centres that we must calculate the attractions." "that i comprehend." "_r_ is the radius of the earth." "that i comprehend." "_m_ is the mass or volume of the earth; _m_ prime that of the moon. we must take the mass of the two attracting bodies into consideration, since attraction is in direct proportion to their masses." "that i comprehend." "_g_ is the gravity or the velocity acquired at the end of a second by a body falling towards the centre of the earth. clear?" "that i comprehend." "now i represent by _x_ the varying distance that separates the projectile from the centre of the earth, and by _v_ prime its velocity at that distance." "that i comprehend." "finally, _v_ is its velocity when quitting our atmosphere." "yes," chimed in the captain, "it is for this point, you see, that the velocity had to be calculated, because we know already that the initial velocity is exactly the three halves of the velocity when the projectile quits the atmosphere." "that i don't comprehend," cried the frenchman, energetically. "it's simple enough, however," said barbican. "not so simple as a simpleton," replied the frenchman. "the captain merely means," said barbican, "that at the instant the projectile quitted the terrestrial atmosphere it had already lost a third of its initial velocity." "so much as a third?" "yes, by friction against the atmospheric layers: the quicker its motion, the greater resistance it encountered." "that of course i admit, but your _v_ squared and your _v_ prime squared rattle in my head like nails in a box!" "the usual effect of algebra on one who is a stranger to it; to finish you, our next step is to express numerically the value of these several symbols. now some of them are already known, and some are to be calculated." "hand the latter over to me," said the captain. "first," continued barbican: "_r_, the earth's radius is, in the latitude of florida, about 3,921 miles. _d_, the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the moon is 56 terrestrial radii, which the captain calculates to be...?" "to be," cried m'nicholl working rapidly with his pencil, "219,572 miles, the moment the moon is in her _perigee_, or nearest point to the earth." "very well," continued barbican. "now _m_ prime over _m_, that is the ratio of the moon's mass to that of the earth is about the 1/81. _g_ gravity being at florida about 32-1/4 feet, of course _g_ x _r_ must be--how much, captain?" "38,465 miles," replied m'nicholl. "now then?" asked ardan. [illustration: my head is splitting with it.] "now then," replied barbican, "the expression having numerical values, i am trying to find _v_, that is to say, the initial velocity which the projectile must possess in order to reach the point where the two attractions neutralize each other. here the velocity being null, _v_ prime becomes zero, and _x_ the required distance of this neutral point must be represented by the nine-tenths of _d_, the distance between the two centres." "i have a vague kind of idea that it must be so," said ardan. "i shall, therefore, have the following result;" continued barbican, figuring up; "_x_ being nine-tenths of _d_, and _v_ prime being zero, my formula becomes:- 2 10 r 1 10 r r v = gr {1 -------(---------) } d 81 d d r " the captain read it off rapidly. "right! that's correct!" he cried. "you think so?" asked barbican. "as true as euclid!" exclaimed m'nicholl. "wonderful fellows," murmured the frenchman, smiling with admiration. "you understand now, ardan, don't you?" asked barbican. "don't i though?" exclaimed ardan, "why my head is splitting with it!" "therefore," continued barbican, " 2 10 r 1 10 r r 2v = 2gr {1 -------(---------) } d 81 d d r " "and now," exclaimed m'nicholl, sharpening his pencil; "in order to obtain the velocity of the projectile when leaving the atmosphere, we have only to make a slight calculation." the captain, who before clerking on a mississippi steamboat had been professor of mathematics in an indiana university, felt quite at home at the work. he rained figures from his pencil with a velocity that would have made marston stare. page after page was filled with his multiplications and divisions, while barbican looked quietly on, and ardan impatiently stroked his head and ears to keep down a rising head-ache. "well?" at last asked barbican, seeing the captain stop and throw a somewhat hasty glance over his work. "well," answered m'nicholl slowly but confidently, "the calculation is made, i think correctly; and _v_, that is, the velocity of the projectile when quitting the atmosphere, sufficient to carry it to the neutral point, should be at least ..." "how much?" asked barbican, eagerly. "should be at least 11,972 yards the first second." "what!" cried barbican, jumping off his seat. "how much did you say?" "11,972 yards the first second it quits the atmosphere." "oh, malediction!" cried barbican, with a gesture of terrible despair. "what's the matter?" asked ardan, very much surprised. "enough is the matter!" answered barbican excitedly. "this velocity having been diminished by a third, our initial velocity should have been at least ..." "17,958 yards the first second!" cried m'nicholl, rapidly flourishing his pencil. "but the cambridge observatory having declared that 12,000 yards the first second were sufficient, our projectile started with no greater velocity!" "well?" asked m'nicholl. "well, such a velocity will never do!" "how??" } "how!!" } cried the captain and ardan in one voice. "we can never reach the neutral point!" "thunder and lightning" "fire and fury!" "we can't get even halfway!" "heaven and earth!" "_mille noms d'un boulet!_" cried ardan, wildly gesticulating. "and we shall fall back to the earth!" "oh!" "ah!" they could say no more. this fearful revelation took them like a stroke of apoplexy. chapter v. the colds of space. how could they imagine that the observatory men had committed such a blunder? barbican would not believe it possible. he made the captain go over his calculation again and again; but no flaw was to be found in it. he himself carefully examined it, figure after figure, but he could find nothing wrong. they both took up the formula and subjected it to the strongest tests; but it was invulnerable. there was no denying the fact. the cambridge professors had undoubtedly blundered in saying that an initial velocity of 12,000 yards a second would be enough to carry them to the neutral point. a velocity of nearly 18,000 yards would be the very lowest required for such a purpose. they had simply forgotten to allow a third for friction. the three friends kept profound silence for some time. breakfast now was the last thing thought of. barbican, with teeth grating, fingers clutching, and eye-brows closely contracting, gazed grimly through the window. the captain, as a last resource, once more examined his calculations, earnestly hoping to find a figure wrong. ardan could neither sit, stand nor lie still for a second, though he tried all three. his silence, of course, did not last long. "ha! ha! ha!" he laughed bitterly. "precious scientific men! villainous old hombogues! the whole set not worth a straw! i hope to gracious, since we must fall, that we shall drop down plumb on cambridge observatory, and not leave a single one of the miserable old women, called professors, alive in the premises!" a certain expression in ardan's angry exclamation had struck the captain like a shot, and set his temples throbbing violently. "_must_ fall!" he exclaimed, starting up suddenly. "let us see about that! it is now seven o'clock in the morning. we must have, therefore, been at least thirty-two hours on the road, and more than half of our passage is already made. if we are going to fall at all, we must be falling now! i'm certain we're not, but, barbican, you have to find it out!" barbican caught the idea like lightning, and, seizing a compass, he began through the floor window to measure the visual angle of the distant earth. the apparent immobility of the projectile allowed him to do this with great exactness. then laying aside the instrument, and wiping off the thick drops of sweat that bedewed his forehead, he began jotting down some figures on a piece of paper. the captain looked on with keen interest; he knew very well that barbican was calculating their distance from the earth by the apparent measure of the terrestrial diameter, and he eyed him anxiously. pretty soon his friends saw a color stealing into barbican's pale face, and a triumphant light glittering in his eye. "no, my brave boys!" he exclaimed at last throwing down his pencil, "we're not falling! far from it, we are at present more than 150 thousand miles from the earth!" "hurrah!" } "bravo!" } cried m'nicholl and ardan, in a breath. "we have passed the point where we should have stopped if we had had no more initial velocity than the cambridge men allowed us!" "hurrah! hurrah!" "bravo, bravissimo!" "and we're still going up!" "glory, glory, hallelujah!" sang m'nicholl, in the highest excitement. "_vive ce cher barbican!_" cried ardan, bursting into french as usual whenever his feelings had the better of him. "of course we're marching on!" continued m'nicholl, "and i know the reason why, too. those 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton gave us greater initial velocity than we had expected!" "you're right, captain!" added barbican; "besides, you must not forget that, by getting rid of the water, the projectile was relieved of considerable weight!" "correct again!" cried the captain. "i had not thought of that!" "therefore, my brave boys," continued barbican, with some excitement; "away with melancholy! we're all right!" "yes; everything is lovely and the goose hangs high!" cried the captain, who on grand occasions was not above a little slang. "talking of goose reminds me of breakfast," cried ardan; "i assure you, my fright has not taken away my appetite!" "yes," continued barbican. "captain, you're quite right. our initial velocity very fortunately was much greater than what our cambridge friends had calculated for us!" "hang our cambridge friends and their calculations!" cried ardan, with some asperity; "as usual with your scientific men they've more brass than brains! if we're not now bed-fellows with the oysters in the gulf of mexico, no thanks to our kind cambridge friends. but talking of oysters, let me remind you again that breakfast is ready." the meal was a most joyous one. they ate much, they talked more, but they laughed most. the little incident of algebra had certainly very much enlivened the situation. "now, my boys," ardan went on, "all things thus turning out quite comfortable, i would just ask you why we should not succeed? we are fairly started. no breakers ahead that i can see. no rock on our road. it is freer than the ships on the raging ocean, aye, freer than the balloons in the blustering air. but the ship arrives at her destination; the balloon, borne on the wings of the wind, rises to as high an altitude as can be endured; why then should not our projectile reach the moon?" "it _will_ reach the moon!" nodded barbican. "we shall reach the moon or know for what!" cried m'nicholl, enthusiastically. "the great american nation must not be disappointed!" continued ardan. "they are the only people on earth capable of originating such an enterprise! they are the only people capable of producing a barbican!" "hurrah!" cried m'nicholl. "that point settled," continued the frenchman, "another question comes up to which i have not yet called your attention. when we get to the moon, what shall we do there? how are we going to amuse ourselves? i'm afraid our life there will be awfully slow!" his companions emphatically disclaimed the possibility of such a thing. "you may deny it, but i know better, and knowing better, i have laid in my stores accordingly. you have but to choose. i possess a varied assortment. chess, draughts, cards, dominoes--everything in fact, but a billiard table?" "what!" exclaimed barbican; "cumbered yourself with such gimcracks?" "such gimcracks are not only good to amuse ourselves with, but are eminently calculated also to win us the friendship of the selenites." "friend michael," said barbican, "if the moon is inhabited at all, her inhabitants must have appeared several thousand years before the advent of man on our earth, for there seems to be very little doubt that luna is considerably older than terra in her present state. therefore, selenites, if their brain is organized like our own, must have by this time invented all that we are possessed of, and even much which we are still to invent in the course of ages. the probability is that, instead of their learning from us, we shall have much to learn from them." "what!" asked ardan, "you think they have artists like phidias, michael angelo and raphael?" "certainly." "and poets like homer, virgil, dante, shakspeare, göthe and hugo?" "not a doubt of it." "and philosophers like plato, aristotle, descartes, bacon, kant?" "why not?" "and scientists like euclid, archimedes, copernicus, newton, pascal?" "i should think so." "and famous actors, and singers, and composers, and--and photographers?" "i could almost swear to it." "then, dear boy, since they have gone ahead as far as we and even farther, why have not those great selenites tried to start a communication with the earth? why have they not fired a projectile from the regions lunar to the regions terrestrial?" "who says they have not done so?" asked barbican, coolly. "attempting such a communication," observed the captain, "would certainly be much easier for them than for us, principally for two reasons. first, attraction on the moon's surface being six times less than on the earth's, a projectile could be sent off more rapidly; second, because, as this projectile need be sent only 24 instead of 240 thousand miles, they could do it with a quantity of powder ten times less than what we should require for the same purpose." "then i ask again," said the frenchman; "why haven't they made such an attempt?" "and i reply again," answered barbican. "how do you know that they have not made such an attempt?" "made it? when?" "thousands of years ago, before the invention of writing, before even the appearance of man on the earth." "but the bullet?" asked ardan, triumphantly; "where's the bullet? produce the bullet!" "friend michael," answered barbican, with a quiet smile, "you appear to forget that the 5/6 of the surface of our earth is water. 5 to 1, therefore, that the bullet is more likely to be lying this moment at the bottom of the atlantic or the pacific than anywhere else on the surface of our globe. besides, it may have sunk into some weak point of the surface, at the early epoch when the crust of the earth had not acquired sufficient solidity." "captain," said ardan, turning with a smile to m'nicholl; "no use in trying to catch barby; slippery as an eel, he has an answer for everything. still i have a theory on the subject myself, which i think it no harm to ventilate. it is this: the selenites have never sent us any projectile at all, simply because they had no gunpowder: being older and wiser than we, they were never such fools as to invent any.--but, what's that? diana howling for her breakfast! good! like genuine scientific men, while squabbling over nonsense, we let the poor animals die of hunger. excuse us, diana; it is not the first time the little suffer from the senseless disputes of the great." so saying he laid before the animal a very toothsome pie, and contemplated with evident pleasure her very successful efforts towards its hasty and complete disappearance. "looking at diana," he went on, "makes me almost wish we had made a noah's ark of our projectile by introducing into it a pair of all the domestic animals!" "not room enough," observed barbican. "no doubt," remarked the captain, "the ox, the cow, the horse, the goat, all the ruminating animals would be very useful in the lunar continent. but we couldn't turn our projectile into a stable, you know." "still, we might have made room for a pair of poor little donkeys!" observed ardan; "how i love the poor beasts. fellow feeling, you will say. no doubt, but there really is no animal i pity more. they are the most ill-treated brutes in all creation. they are not only banged during life; they are banged worse after death!" "hey! how do you make that out?" asked his companions, surprised. "because we make their skins into drum heads!" replied ardan, with an air, as if answering a conundrum. barbican and m'nicholl could hardly help laughing at the absurd reply of their lively companion, but their hilarity was soon stopped by the expression his face assumed as he bent over satellite's body, where it lay stretched on the sofa. "what's the matter now?" asked barbican. "satellite's attack is over," replied ardan. "good!" said m'nicholl, misunderstanding him. "yes, i suppose it is good for the poor fellow," observed ardan, in melancholy accents. "life with one's skull broken is hardly an enviable possession. our grand acclimatization project is knocked sky high, in more senses than one!" there was no doubt of the poor dog's death. the expression of ardan's countenance, as he looked at his friends, was of a very rueful order. "well," said the practical barbican, "there's no help for that now; the next thing to be done is to get rid of the body. we can't keep it here with us forty-eight hours longer." "of course not," replied the captain, "nor need we; our lights, being provided with hinges, can be lifted back. what is to prevent us from opening one of them, and flinging the body out through it!" the president of the gun club reflected a few minutes; then he spoke: "yes, it can be done; but we must take the most careful precautions." "why so?" asked ardan. "for two simple reasons;" replied barbican; "the first refers to the air enclosed in the projectile, and of which we must be very careful to lose only the least possible quantity." "but as we manufacture air ourselves!" objected ardan. "we manufacture air only partly, friend michael," replied barbican. "we manufacture only oxygen; we can't supply nitrogen--by the bye, ardan, won't you watch the apparatus carefully every now and then to see that the oxygen is not generated too freely. very serious consequences would attend an immoderate supply of oxygen--no, we can't manufacture nitrogen, which is so absolutely necessary for our air and which might escape readily through the open windows." "what! the few seconds we should require for flinging out poor satellite?" "a very few seconds indeed they should be," said barbican, very gravely. "your second reason?" asked ardan. "the second reason is, that we must not allow the external cold, which must be exceedingly great, to penetrate into our projectile and freeze us alive." "but the sun, you know--" "yes, the sun heats our projectile, but it does not heat the vacuum through which we are now floating. where there is no air there can neither be heat nor light; just as wherever the rays of the sun do not arrive directly, it must be both cold and dark. the temperature around us, if there be anything that can be called temperature, is produced solely by stellar radiation. i need not say how low that is in the scale, or that it would be the temperature to which our earth should fall, if the sun were suddenly extinguished." "little fear of that for a few more million years," said m'nicholl. "who can tell?" asked ardan. "besides, even admitting that the sun will not soon be extinguished, what is to prevent the earth from shooting away from him?" "let friend michael speak," said barbican, with a smile, to the captain; "we may learn something." "certainly you may," continued the frenchman, "if you have room for anything new. were we not struck by a comet's tail in 1861?" "so it was said, anyhow," observed the captain. "i well remember what nonsense there was in the papers about the 'phosphorescent auroral glare.'" "well," continued the frenchman, "suppose the comet of 1861 influenced the earth by an attraction superior to the sun's. what would be the consequence? would not the earth follow the attracting body, become its satellite, and thus at last be dragged off to such a distance that the sun's rays could no longer excite heat on her surface?" "well, that might possibly occur," said barbican slowly, "but even then i question if the consequences would be so terrible as you seem to apprehend." "why not?" "because the cold and the heat might still manage to be nearly equalized on our globe. it has been calculated that, had the earth been carried off by the comet of '61, when arrived at her greatest distance, she would have experienced a temperature hardly sixteen times greater than the heat we receive from the moon, which, as everybody knows, produces no appreciable effect, even when concentrated to a focus by the most powerful lenses." "well then," exclaimed ardan, "at such a temperature--" "wait a moment," replied barbican. "have you never heard of the principle of compensation? listen to another calculation. had the earth been dragged along with the comet, it has been calculated that at her perihelion, or nearest point to the sun, she would have to endure a heat 28,000 times greater than our mean summer temperature. but this heat, fully capable of turning the rocks into glass and the oceans into vapor, before proceeding to such extremity, must have first formed a thick interposing ring of clouds, and thus considerably modified the excessive temperature. therefore, between the extreme cold of the aphelion and the excessive heat of the perihelion, by the great law of compensation, it is probable that the mean temperature would be tolerably endurable." "at how many degrees is the temperature of the interplanetary space estimated?" asked m'nicholl. "some time ago," replied barbican, "this temperature was considered to be very low indeed--millions and millions of degrees below zero. but fourrier of auxerre, a distinguished member of the _académie des sciences_, whose _mémoires_ on the temperature of the planetary spaces appeared about 1827, reduced these figures to considerably diminished proportions. according to his careful estimation, the temperature of space is not much lower than 70 or 80 degrees fahr. below zero." "no more?" asked ardan. "no more," answered barbican, "though i must acknowledge we have only his word for it, as the _mémoire_ in which he had recorded all the elements of that important determination, has been lost somewhere, and is no longer to be found." "i don't attach the slightest importance to his, or to any man's words, unless they are sustained by reliable evidence," exclaimed m'nicholl. "besides, if i'm not very much mistaken, pouillet--another countryman of yours, ardan, and an academician as well as fourrier--esteems the temperature of interplanetary spaces to be at least 256° fahr. below zero. this we can easily verify for ourselves this moment by actual experiment." "not just now exactly," observed barbican, "for the solar rays, striking our projectile directly, would give us a very elevated instead of a very low temperature. but once arrived at the moon, during those nights fifteen days long, which each of her faces experiences alternately, we shall have plenty of time to make an experiment with every condition in our favor. to be sure, our satellite is at present moving in a vacuum." "a vacuum?" asked ardan; "a perfect vacuum?" "well, a perfect vacuum as far as air is concerned." "but is the air replaced by nothing?" "oh yes," replied barbican. "by ether." "ah, ether! and what, pray, is ether?" "ether, friend michael, is an elastic gas consisting of imponderable atoms, which, as we are told by works on molecular physics, are, in proportion to their size, as far apart as the celestial bodies are from each other in space. this distance is less than the 1/3000000 x 1/1000', or the one trillionth of a foot. the vibrations of the molecules of this ether produce the sensations of light and heat, by making 430 trillions of undulations per second, each undulation being hardly more than the one ten-millionth of an inch in width." "trillions per second! ten-millionths of an inch in width!" cried ardan. "these oscillations have been very neatly counted and ticketed, and checked off! ah, friend barbican," continued the frenchman, shaking his head, "these numbers are just tremendous guesses, frightening the ear but revealing nothing to the intelligence." "to get ideas, however, we must calculate--" "no, no!" interrupted ardan: "not calculate, but compare. a trillion tells you nothing--comparison, everything. for instance, you say, the volume of _uranus_ is 76 times greater than the earth's; _saturn's_ 900 times greater; _jupiter's_ 1300 times greater; the sun's 1300 thousand times greater--you may tell me all that till i'm tired hearing it, and i shall still be almost as ignorant as ever. for my part i prefer to be told one of those simple comparisons that i find in the old almanacs: the sun is a globe two feet in diameter; _jupiter_, a good sized orange; _saturn_, a smaller orange; _neptune_, a plum; _uranus_, a good sized cherry; the earth, a pea; _venus_, also a pea but somewhat smaller; _mars_, a large pin's head; _mercury_, a mustard seed; _juno_, _ceres_, _vesta_, _pallas_, and the other asteroids so many grains of sand. be told something like that, and you have got at least the tail of an idea!" this learned burst of ardan's had the natural effect of making his hearers forget what they had been arguing about, and they therefore proceeded at once to dispose of satellite's body. it was a simple matter enough--no more than to fling it out of the projectile into space, just as the sailors get rid of a dead body by throwing it into the sea. only in this operation they had to act, as barbican recommended, with the utmost care and dispatch, so as to lose as little as possible of the internal air, which, by its great elasticity, would violently strive to escape. the bolts of the floor-light, which was more than a foot in diameter, were carefully unscrewed, while ardan, a good deal affected, prepared to launch his dog's body into space. the glass, worked by a powerful lever which enabled it to overcome the pressure of the enclosed air, turned quickly on its hinges, and poor satellite was dropped out. the whole operation was so well managed that very little air escaped, and ever afterwards barbican employed the same means to rid the projectile of all the litter and other useless matter by which it was occasionally encumbered. the evening of this third of december wore away without further incident. as soon as barbican had announced that the projectile was still winging its way, though with retarded velocity, towards the lunar disc, the travellers quietly retired to rest. [illustration: poor satellite was dropped out.] chapter vi. instructive conversation. on the fourth of december, the projectile chronometers marked five o'clock in the morning, just as the travellers woke up from a pleasant slumber. they had now been 54 hours on their journey. as to lapse of _time_, they had passed not much more than half of the number of hours during which their trip was to last; but, as to lapse of _space_, they had already accomplished very nearly the seven-tenths of their passage. this difference between time and distance was due to the regular retardation of their velocity. they looked at the earth through the floor-light, but it was little more than visible--a black spot drowned in the solar rays. no longer any sign of a crescent, no longer any sign of ashy light. next day, towards midnight, the earth was to be _new_, at the precise moment when the moon was to be _full_. overhead, they could see the queen of night coming nearer and nearer to the line followed by the projectile, and evidently approaching the point where both should meet at the appointed moment. all around, the black vault of heaven was dotted with luminous points which seemed to move somewhat, though, of course, in their extreme distance their relative size underwent no change. the sun and the stars looked exactly as they had appeared when observed from the earth. the moon indeed had become considerably enlarged in size, but the travellers' telescopes were still too weak to enable them to make any important observation regarding the nature of her surface, or that might determine her topographical or geological features. naturally, therefore, the time slipped away in endless conversation. the moon, of course, was the chief topic. each one contributed his share of peculiar information, or peculiar ignorance, as the case might be. barbican and m'nicholl always treated the subject gravely, as became learned scientists, but ardan preferred to look on things with the eye of fancy. the projectile, its situation, its direction, the incidents possible to occur, the precautions necessary to take in order to break the fall on the moon's surface--these and many other subjects furnished endless food for constant debate and inexhaustible conjectures. for instance, at breakfast that morning, a question of ardan's regarding the projectile drew from barbican an answer curious enough to be reported. "suppose, on the night that we were shot up from stony hill," said ardan, "suppose the projectile had encountered some obstacle powerful enough to stop it--what would be the consequence of the sudden halt?" "but," replied barbican, "i don't understand what obstacle it could have met powerful enough to stop it." "suppose some obstacle, for the sake of argument," said ardan. "suppose what can't be supposed," replied the matter-of-fact barbican, "what cannot possibly be supposed, unless indeed the original impulse proved too weak. in that case, the velocity would have decreased by degrees, but the projectile itself would not have suddenly stopped." "suppose it had struck against some body in space." "what body, for instance?" "well, that enormous bolide which we met." "oh!" hastily observed the captain, "the projectile would have been dashed into a thousand pieces and we along with it." "better than that," observed barbican; "we should have been burned alive." "burned alive!" laughed ardan. "what a pity we missed so interesting an experiment! how i should have liked to find out how it felt!" "you would not have much time to record your observations, friend michael, i assure you," observed barbican. "the case is plain enough. heat and motion are convertible terms. what do we mean by heating water? simply giving increased, in fact, violent motion to its molecules." "well!" exclaimed the frenchman, "that's an ingenious theory any how!" "not only ingenious but correct, my dear friend, for it completely explains all the phenomena of caloric. heat is nothing but molecular movement, the violent oscillation of the particles of a body. when you apply the brakes to the train, the train stops. but what has become of its motion? it turns into heat and makes the brakes hot. why do people grease the axles? to hinder them from getting too hot, which they assuredly would become if friction was allowed to obstruct the motion. you understand, don't you?" "don't i though?" replied ardan, apparently in earnest. "let me show you how thoroughly. when i have been running hard and long, i feel myself perspiring like a bull and hot as a furnace. why am i then forced to stop? simply because my motion has been transformed into heat! of course, i understand all about it!" barbican smiled a moment at this comical illustration of his theory and then went on: "accordingly, in case of a collision it would have been all over instantly with our projectile. you have seen what becomes of the bullet that strikes the iron target. it is flattened out of all shape; sometimes it is even melted into a thin film. its motion has been turned into heat. therefore, i maintain that if our projectile had struck that bolide, its velocity, suddenly checked, would have given rise to a heat capable of completely volatilizing it in less than a second." "not a doubt of it!" said the captain. "president," he added after a moment, "haven't they calculated what would be the result, if the earth were suddenly brought to a stand-still in her journey, through her orbit?" "it has been calculated," answered barbican, "that in such a case so much heat would be developed as would instantly reduce her to vapor." "hm!" exclaimed ardan; "a remarkably simple way for putting an end to the world!" "and supposing the earth to fall into the sun?" asked the captain. "such a fall," answered barbican, "according to the calculations of tyndall and thomson, would develop an amount of heat equal to that produced by sixteen hundred globes of burning coal, each globe equal in size to the earth itself. furthermore such a fall would supply the sun with at least as much heat as he expends in a hundred years!" "a hundred years! good! nothing like accuracy!" cried ardan. "such infallible calculators as messrs. tyndall and thomson i can easily excuse for any airs they may give themselves. they must be of an order much higher than that of ordinary mortals like us!" "i would not answer myself for the accuracy of such intricate problems," quietly observed barbican; "but there is no doubt whatever regarding one fact: motion suddenly interrupted always develops heat. and this has given rise to another theory regarding the maintenance of the sun's temperature at a constant point. an incessant rain of bolides falling on his surface compensates sufficiently for the heat that he is continually giving forth. it has been calculated--" "good lord deliver us!" cried ardan, putting his hands to his ears: "here comes tyndall and thomson again!" --"it has been calculated," continued barbican, not heeding the interruption, "that the shock of every bolide drawn to the sun's surface by gravity, must produce there an amount of heat equal to that of the combustion of four thousand blocks of coal, each the same size as the falling bolide." "i'll wager another cent that our bold savants calculated the heat of the sun himself," cried ardan, with an incredulous laugh. "that is precisely what they have done," answered barbican referring to his memorandum book; "the heat emitted by the sun," he continued, "is exactly that which would be produced by the combustion of a layer of coal enveloping the sun's surface, like an atmosphere, 17 miles in thickness." "well done! and such heat would be capable of--?" "of melting in an hour a stratum of ice 2400 feet thick, or, according to another calculation, of raising a globe of ice-cold water, 3 times the size of our earth, to the boiling point in an hour." "why not calculate the exact fraction of a second it would take to cook a couple of eggs?" laughed ardan. "i should as soon believe in one calculation as in the other.--but--by the by--why does not such extreme heat cook us all up like so many beefsteaks?" "for two very good and sufficient reasons," answered barbican. "in the first place, the terrestrial atmosphere absorbs the 4/10 of the solar heat. in the second, the quantity of solar heat intercepted by the earth is only about the two billionth part of all that is radiated." "how fortunate to have such a handy thing as an atmosphere around us," cried the frenchman; "it not only enables us to breathe, but it actually keeps us from sizzling up like griskins." "yes," said the captain, "but unfortunately we can't say so much for the moon." "oh pshaw!" cried ardan, always full of confidence. "it's all right there too! the moon is either inhabited or she is not. if she is, the inhabitants must breathe. if she is not, there must be oxygen enough left for we, us and co., even if we should have to go after it to the bottom of the ravines, where, by its gravity, it must have accumulated! so much the better! we shall not have to climb those thundering mountains!" so saying, he jumped up and began to gaze with considerable interest on the lunar disc, which just then was glittering with dazzling brightness. "by jove!" he exclaimed at length; "it must be pretty hot up there!" "i should think so," observed the captain; "especially when you remember that the day up there lasts 360 hours!" "yes," observed barbican, "but remember on the other hand that the nights are just as long, and, as the heat escapes by radiation, the mean temperature cannot be much greater than that of interplanetary space." "a high old place for living in!" cried ardan. "no matter! i wish we were there now! wouldn't it be jolly, dear boys, to have old mother earth for our moon, to see her always on our sky, never rising, never setting, never undergoing any change except from new earth to last quarter! would not it be fun to trace the shape of our great oceans and continents, and to say: 'there is the mediterranean! there is china! there is the gulf of mexico! there is the white line of the rocky mountains where old marston is watching for us with his big telescope!' then we should see every line, and brightness, and shadow fade away by degrees, as she came nearer and nearer to the sun, until at last she sat completely lost in his dazzling rays! but--by the way--barbican, are there any eclipses in the moon?" "o yes; solar eclipses" replied barbican, "must always occur whenever the centres of the three heavenly bodies are in the same line, the earth occupying the middle place. however, such eclipses must always be annular, as the earth, projected like a screen on the solar disc, allows more than half of the sun to be still visible." "how is that?" asked m'nicholl, "no total eclipses in the moon? surely the cone of the earth's shadow must extend far enough to envelop her surface?" "it does reach her, in one sense," replied barbican, "but it does not in another. remember the great refraction of the solar rays that must be produced by the earth's atmosphere. it is easy to show that this refraction prevents the sun from ever being totally invisible. see here!" he continued, pulling out his tablets, "let _a_ represent the horizontal parallax, and _b_ the half of the sun's apparent diameter--" "ouch!" cried the frenchman, making a wry face, "here comes mr. _x_ square riding to the mischief on a pair of double zeros again! talk english, or yankee, or dutch, or greek, and i'm your man! even a little arabic i can digest! but hang me, if i can endure your algebra!" "well then, talking yankee," replied barbican with a smile, "the mean distance of the moon from the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the conic shadow, in consequence of atmospheric refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. consequently, at the moment of an eclipse, the moon is far beyond the reach of the real shadow, so that she can see not only the border rays of the sun, but even those proceeding from his very centre." "oh then," cried ardan with a loud laugh, "we have an eclipse of the sun at the moment when the sun is quite visible! isn't that very like a bull, mr. philosopher barbican?" "yet it is perfectly true notwithstanding," answered barbican. "at such a moment the sun is not eclipsed, because we can see him: and then again he is eclipsed because we see him only by means of a few of his rays, and even these have lost nearly all their brightness in their passage through the terrestrial atmosphere!" "barbican is right, friend michael," observed the captain slowly: "the same phenomenon occurs on earth every morning at sunrise, when refraction shows us '_the sun new ris'n looking through the horizontal misty air, shorn of his beams._'" "he must be right," said ardan, who, to do him justice, though quick at seeing a reason, was quicker to acknowledge its justice: "yes, he must be right, because i begin to understand at last very clearly what he really meant. however, we can judge for ourselves when we get there.--but, apropos of nothing, tell me, barbican, what do you think of the moon being an ancient comet, which had come so far within the sphere of the earth's attraction as to be kept there and turned into a satellite?" "well, that _is_ an original idea!" said barbican with a smile. "my ideas generally are of that category," observed ardan with an affectation of dry pomposity. "not this time, however, friend michael," observed m'nicholl. "oh! i'm a plagiarist, am i?" asked the frenchman, pretending to be irritated. "well, something very like it," observed m'nicholl quietly. "apollonius rhodius, as i read one evening in the philadelphia library, speaks of the arcadians of greece having a tradition that their ancestors were so ancient that they inhabited the earth long before the moon had ever become our satellite. they therefore called them [greek: _proselênoi_] or _ante-lunarians_. now starting with some such wild notion as this, certain scientists have looked on the moon as an ancient comet brought close enough to the earth to be retained in its orbit by terrestrial attraction." "why may not there be something plausible in such a hypothesis?" asked ardan with some curiosity. "there is nothing whatever in it," replied barbican decidedly: "a simple proof is the fact that the moon does not retain the slightest trace of the vaporous envelope by which comets are always surrounded." "lost her tail you mean," said ardan. "pooh! easy to account for that! it might have got cut off by coming too close to the sun!" "it might, friend michael, but an amputation by such means is not very likely." "no? why not?" "because--because--by jove, i can't say, because i don't know," cried barbican with a quiet smile on his countenance. "oh what a lot of volumes," cried ardan, "could be made out of what we don't know!" "at present, for instance," observed m'nicholl, "i don't know what o'clock it is." "three o'clock!" said barbican, glancing at his chronometer. "no!" cried ardan in surprise. "bless us! how rapidly the time passes when we are engaged in scientific conversation! ouf! i'm getting decidedly too learned! i feel as if i had swallowed a library!" "i feel," observed m'nicholl, "as if i had been listening to a lecture on astronomy in the _star_ course." "better stir around a little more," said the frenchman; "fatigue of body is the best antidote to such severe mental labor as ours. i'll run up the ladder a bit." so saying, he paid another visit to the upper portion of the projectile and remained there awhile whistling _malbrouk_, whilst his companions amused themselves in looking through the floor window. ardan was coming down the ladder, when his whistling was cut short by a sudden exclamation of surprise. "what's the matter?" asked barbican quickly, as he looked up and saw the frenchman pointing to something outside the projectile. approaching the window, barbican saw with much surprise a sort of flattened bag floating in space and only a few yards off. it seemed perfectly motionless, and, consequently, the travellers knew that it must be animated by the same ascensional movement as themselves. "what on earth can such a consarn be, barbican?" asked ardan, who every now and then liked to ventilate his stock of american slang. "is it one of those particles of meteoric matter you were speaking of just now, caught within the sphere of our projectile's attraction and accompanying us to the moon?" "what i am surprised at," observed the captain, "is that though the specific gravity of that body is far inferior to that of our projectile, it moves with exactly the same velocity." "captain," said barbican, after a moment's reflection, "i know no more what that object is than you do, but i can understand very well why it keeps abreast with the projectile." "very well then, why?" "because, my dear captain, we are moving through a vacuum, and because all bodies fall or move--the same thing--with equal velocity through a vacuum, no matter what may be their shape or their specific gravity. it is the air alone that makes a difference of weight. produce an artificial vacuum in a glass tube and you will see that all objects whatever falling through, whether bits of feather or grains of shot, move with precisely the same rapidity. up here, in space, like cause and like effect." "correct," assented m'nicholl. "everything therefore that we shall throw out of the projectile is bound to accompany us to the moon." "well, we _were_ smart!" cried ardan suddenly. "how so, friend michael?" asked barbican. "why not have packed the projectile with ever so many useful objects, books, instruments, tools, et cetera, and fling them out into space once we were fairly started! they would have all followed us safely! nothing would have been lost! and--now i think on it--why not fling ourselves out through the window? shouldn't we be as safe out there as that bolide? what fun it would be to feel ourselves sustained and upborne in the ether, more highly favored even than the birds, who must keep on flapping their wings continually to prevent themselves from falling!" "very true, my dear boy," observed barbican; "but how could we breathe?" "it's a fact," exclaimed the frenchman. "hang the air for spoiling our fun! so we must remain shut up in our projectile?" "not a doubt of it!" --"oh thunder!" roared ardan, suddenly striking his forehead. "what ails you?" asked the captain, somewhat surprised. "now i know what that bolide of ours is! why didn't we think of it before? it is no asteroid! it is no particle of meteoric matter! nor is it a piece of a shattered planet!" "what is it then?" asked both of his companions in one voice. [illustration: satellite's body flying through space.] "it is nothing more or less than the body of the dog that we threw out yesterday!" so in fact it was. that shapeless, unrecognizable mass, melted, expunged, flat as a bladder under an unexhausted receiver, drained of its air, was poor satellite's body, flying like a rocket through space, and rising higher and higher in close company with the rapidly ascending projectile! chapter vii. a high old time. a new phenomenon, therefore, strange but logical, startling but admitting of easy explanation, was now presented to their view, affording a fresh subject for lively discussion. not that they disputed much about it. they soon agreed on a principle from which they readily deducted the following general law: _every object thrown out of the projectile should partake of the projectile's motion: it should therefore follow the same path, and never cease to move until the projectile itself came to a stand-still._ but, in sober truth, they were at anything but a loss of subjects of warm discussion. as the end of their journey began to approach, their senses became keener and their sensations vivider. steeled against surprise, they looked for the unexpected, the strange, the startling; and the only thing at which they would have wondered would be to be five minutes without having something new to wonder at. their excited imaginations flew far ahead of the projectile, whose velocity, by the way, began to be retarded very decidedly by this time, though, of course, the travellers had as yet no means to become aware of it. the moon's size on the sky was meantime getting larger and larger; her apparent distance was growing shorter and shorter, until at last they could almost imagine that by putting their hands out they could nearly touch her. next morning, december 5th, all were up and dressed at a very early hour. this was to be the last day of their journey, if all calculations were correct. that very night, at 12 o'clock, within nineteen hours at furthest, at the very moment of full moon, they were to reach her resplendent surface. at that hour was to be completed the most extraordinary journey ever undertaken by man in ancient or modern times. naturally enough, therefore, they found themselves unable to sleep after four o'clock in the morning; peering upwards through the windows now visibly glittering under the rays of the moon, they spent some very exciting hours in gazing at her slowly enlarging disc, and shouting at her with confident and joyful hurrahs. the majestic queen of the stars had now risen so high in the spangled heavens that she could hardly rise higher. in a few degrees more she would reach the exact point of space where her junction with the projectile was to be effected. according to his own observations, barbican calculated that they should strike her in the northern hemisphere, where her plains, or _seas_ as they are called, are immense, and her mountains are comparatively rare. this, of course, would be so much the more favorable, if, as was to be apprehended, the lunar atmosphere was confined exclusively to the low lands. "besides," as ardan observed, "a plain is a more suitable landing place than a mountain. a selenite deposited on the top of mount everest or even on mont blanc, could hardly be considered, in strict language, to have arrived on earth." "not to talk," added m'nicholl, "of the comfort of the thing! when you land on a plain, there you are. when you land on a peak or on a steep mountain side, where are you? tumbling over an embankment with the train going forty miles an hour, would be nothing to it." "therefore, captain barbican," cried the frenchman, "as we should like to appear before the selenites in full skins, please land us in the snug though unromantic north. we shall have time enough to break our necks in the south." barbican made no reply to his companions, because a new reflection had begun to trouble him, to talk about which would have done no good. there was certainly something wrong. the projectile was evidently heading towards the northern hemisphere of the moon. what did this prove? clearly, a deviation resulting from some cause. the bullet, lodged, aimed, and fired with the most careful mathematical precision, had been calculated to reach the very centre of the moon's disc. clearly it was not going to the centre now. what could have produced the deviation? this barbican could not tell; nor could he even determine its extent, having no points of sight by which to make his observations. for the present he tried to console himself with the hope that the deviation of the projectile would be followed by no worse consequence than carrying them towards the northern border of the moon, where for several reasons it would be comparatively easier to alight. carefully avoiding, therefore, the use of any expression which might needlessly alarm his companions, he continued to observe the moon as carefully as he could, hoping every moment to find some grounds for believing that the deviation from the centre was only a slight one. he almost shuddered at the thought of what would be their situation, if the bullet, missing its aim, should pass the moon, and plunge into the interplanetary space beyond it. as he continued to gaze, the moon, instead of presenting the usual flatness of her disc, began decidedly to show a surface somewhat convex. had the sun been shining on her obliquely, the shadows would have certainly thrown the great mountains into strong relief. the eye could then bury itself deep in the yawning chasms of the craters, and easily follow the cracks, streaks, and ridges which stripe, flecker, and bar the immensity of her plains. but for the present all relief was lost in the dazzling glare. the captain could hardly distinguish even those dark spots that impart to the full moon some resemblance to the human face. "face!" cried ardan: "well, a very fanciful eye may detect a face, though, for the sake of apollo's beauteous sister, i regret to say, a terribly pockmarked one!" the travellers, now evidently approaching the end of their journey, observed the rapidly increasing world above them with newer and greater curiosity every moment. their fancies enkindled at the sight of the new and strange scenes dimly presented to their view. in imagination they climbed to the summit of this lofty peak. they let themselves down to the abyss of that yawning crater. here they imagined they saw vast seas hardly kept in their basins by a rarefied atmosphere; there they thought they could trace mighty rivers bearing to vast oceans the tribute of the snowy mountains. in the first promptings of their eager curiosity, they peered greedily into her cavernous depths, and almost expected, amidst the deathlike hush of inaudible nature, to surprise some sound from the mystic orb floating up there in eternal silence through a boundless ocean of never ending vacuum. this last day of their journey left their memories stored with thrilling recollections. they took careful note of the slightest details. as they neared their destination, they felt themselves invaded by a vague, undefined restlessness. but this restlessness would have given way to decided uneasiness, if they had known at what a slow rate they were travelling. they would have surely concluded that their present velocity would never be able to take them as far as the neutral point, not to talk of passing it. the reason of such considerable retardation was, that by this time the projectile had reached such a great distance from the earth that it had hardly any weight. but even this weight, such as it was, was to be diminished still further, and finally, to vanish altogether as soon as the bullet reached the neutral point, where the two attractions, terrestrial and lunar, should counteract each other with new and surprising effects. notwithstanding the absorbing nature of his observations, ardan never forgot to prepare breakfast with his usual punctuality. it was eaten readily and relished heartily. nothing could be more exquisite than his calf's foot jelly liquefied and prepared by gas heat, except perhaps his meat biscuits of preserved texas beef and southdown mutton. a bottle of château yquem and another of clos de vougeot, both of superlative excellence in quality and flavor, crowned the repast. their vicinity to the moon and their incessant glancing at her surface did not prevent the travellers from touching each other's glasses merrily and often. ardan took occasion to remark that the lunar vineyards--if any existed--must be magnificent, considering the intense solar heat they continually experienced. not that he counted on them too confidently, for he told his friends that to provide for the worst he had supplied himself with a few cases of the best vintages of médoc and the côte d'or, of which the bottles, then under discussion, might be taken as very favorable specimens. the reiset and regnault apparatus for purifying the air worked splendidly, and maintained the atmosphere in a perfectly sanitary condition. not an atom of carbonic acid could resist the caustic potash; and as for the oxygen, according to m'nicholl's expression, "it was a prime number one!" the small quantity of watery vapor enclosed in the projectile did no more harm than serving to temper the dryness of the air: many a splendid _salon_ in new york, london, or paris, and many an auditorium, even of theatre, opera house or academy of music, could be considered its inferior in what concerned its hygienic condition. to keep it in perfect working order, the apparatus should be carefully attended to. this, ardan looked on as his own peculiar occupation. he was never tired regulating the tubes, trying the taps, and testing the heat of the gas by the pyrometer. so far everything had worked satisfactorily, and the travellers, following the example of their friend marston on a previous occasion, began to get so stout that their own mothers would not know them in another month, should their imprisonment last so long. ardan said they all looked so sleek and thriving that he was reminded forcibly of a nice lot of pigs fattening in a pen for a country fair. but how long was this good fortune of theirs going to last? whenever they took their eyes off the moon, they could not help noticing that they were still attended outside by the spectre of satellite's corpse and by the other refuse of the projectile. an occasional melancholy howl also attested diana's recognition of her companion's unhappy fate. the travellers saw with surprise that these waifs still seemed perfectly motionless in space, and kept their respective distances apart as mathematically as if they had been fastened with nails to a stone wall. "i tell you what, dear boys;" observed ardan, commenting on this curious phenomenon; "if the concussion had been a little too violent for one of us that night, his survivors would have been seriously embarrassed in trying to get rid of his remains. with no earth to cover him up, no sea to plunge him into, his corpse would never disappear from view, but would pursue us day and night, grim and ghastly like an avenging ghost!" "ugh!" said the captain, shuddering at the idea. "but, by the bye, barbican!" cried the frenchman, dropping the subject with his usual abruptness; "you have forgotten something else! why didn't you bring a scaphander and an air pump? i could then venture out of the projectile as readily and as safely as the diver leaves his boat and walks about on the bottom of the river! what fun to float in the midst of that mysterious ether! to steep myself, aye, actually to revel in the pure rays of the glorious sun! i should have ventured out on the very point of the projectile, and there i should have danced and postured and kicked and bobbed and capered in a style that taglioni never dreamed of!" "shouldn't i like to see you!" cried the captain grimly, smiling at the idea. "you would not see him long!" observed barbican quietly. "the air confined in his body, freed from external pressure, would burst him like a shell, or like a balloon that suddenly rises to too great a height in the air! a scaphander would have been a fatal gift. don't regret its absence, friend michael; never forget this axiom: _as long as we are floating in empty space, the only spot where safety is possible is inside the projectile!_" the words "possible" and "impossible" always grated on ardan's ears. if he had been a lexicographer, he would have rigidly excluded them from his dictionary, both as meaningless and useless. he was preparing an answer for barbican, when he was cut out by a sudden observation from m'nicholl. "see here, friends!" cried the captain; "this going to the moon is all very well, but how shall we get back?" his listeners looked at each other with a surprised and perplexed air. the question, though a very natural one, now appeared to have presented itself to their consideration absolutely for the first time. "what do you mean by such a question, captain?" asked barbican in a grave judicial tone. "mac, my boy," said ardan seriously, "don't it strike you as a little out of order to ask how you are to return when you have not got there yet?" "i don't ask the question with any idea of backing out," observed the captain quietly; "as a matter of purely scientific inquiry, i repeat my question: how are we to return?" "i don't know," replied barbican promptly. "for my part," said ardan; "if i had known how to get back, i should have never come at all!" "well! of all the answers!" said the captain, lifting his hands and shaking his head. "the best under the circumstances;" observed barbican; "and i shall further observe that such a question as yours at present is both useless and uncalled for. on some future occasion, when we shall consider it advisable to return, the question will be in order, and we shall discuss it with all the attention it deserves. though the columbiad is at stony hill, the projectile will still be in the moon." "much we shall gain by that! a bullet without a gun!" "the gun we can make and the powder too!" replied barbican confidently. "metal and sulphur and charcoal and saltpetre are likely enough to be present in sufficient quantities beneath the moon's surface. besides, to return is a problem of comparatively easy solution: we should have to overcome the lunar attraction only--a slight matter--the rest of the business would be readily done by gravity." "enough said on the subject!" exclaimed ardan curtly; "how to get back is indefinitely postponed! how to communicate with our friends on the earth, is another matter, and, as it seems to me, an extremely easy one." "let us hear the very easy means by which you propose to communicate with our friends on earth," asked the captain, with a sneer, for he was by this time a little out of humor. "by means of bolides ejected from the lunar volcanoes," replied the frenchman without an instant's hesitation. "well said, friend ardan," exclaimed barbican. "i am quite disposed to acknowledge the feasibility of your plan. laplace has calculated that a force five times greater than that of an ordinary cannon would be sufficient to send a bolide from the moon to the earth. now there is no cannon that can vie in force with even the smallest volcano." "hurrah!" cried ardan, delighted at his success; "just imagine the pleasure of sending our letters postage free! but--oh! what a splendid idea!--dolts that we were for not thinking of it sooner!" "let us have the splendid idea!" cried the captain, with some of his old acrimony. "why didn't we fasten a wire to the projectile?" asked ardan, triumphantly, "it would have enabled us to exchange telegrams with the earth!" "ho! ho! ho!" roared the captain, rapidly recovering his good humor; "decidedly the best joke of the season! ha! ha! ha! of course you have calculated the weight of a wire 240 thousand miles long?" "no matter about its weight!" cried the frenchman impetuously; "we should have laughed at its weight! we could have tripled the charge of the columbiad; we could have quadrupled it!--aye, quintupled it, if necessary!" he added in tones evidently increasing in loudness and violence. "yes, friend michael," observed barbican; "but there is a slight and unfortunately a fatal defect in your project. the earth, by its rotation, would have wrapped our wire around herself, like thread around a spool, and dragged us back almost with the speed of lightning!" "by the nine gods of porsena!" cried ardan, "something is wrong with my head to-day! my brain is out of joint, and i am making as nice a mess of things as my friend marston was ever capable of! by the bye--talking of marston--if we never return to the earth, what is to prevent him from following us to the moon?" "nothing!" replied barbican; "he is a faithful friend and a reliable comrade. besides, what is easier? is not the columbiad still at stony hill? cannot gun-cotton be readily manufactured on any occasion? will not the moon again pass through the zenith of florida? eighteen years from now, will she not occupy exactly the same spot that she does to-day?" "certainly!" cried ardan, with increasing enthusiasm, "marston will come! and elphinstone of the torpedo! and the gallant bloomsbury, and billsby the brave, and all our friends of the baltimore gun club! and we shall receive them with all the honors! and then we shall establish projectile trains between the earth and the moon! hurrah for j.t. marston!" "hurrah for secretary marston!" cried the captain, with an enthusiasm almost equal to ardan's. "hurrah for my dear friend marston!" cried barbican, hardly less excited than his comrades. our old acquaintance, marston, of course could not have heard the joyous acclamations that welcomed his name, but at that moment he certainly must have felt his ears most unaccountably tingling. what was he doing at the time? he was rattling along the banks of the kansas river, as fast as an express train could take him, on the road to long's peak, where, by means of the great telescope, he expected to find some traces of the projectile that contained his friends. he never forgot them for a moment, but of course he little dreamed that his name at that very time was exciting their vividest recollections and their warmest applause. in fact, their recollections were rather too vivid, and their applause decidedly too warm. was not the animation that prevailed among the guests of the projectile of a very unusual character, and was it not becoming more and more violent every moment? could the wine have caused it? no; though not teetotallers, they never drank to excess. could the moon's proximity, shedding her subtle, mysterious influence over their nervous systems, have stimulated them to a degree that was threatening to border on frenzy? their faces were as red as if they were standing before a hot fire; their breathing was loud, and their lungs heaved like a smith's bellows; their eyes blazed like burning coals; their voices sounded as loud and harsh as that of a stump speaker trying to make himself heard by an inattentive or hostile crowd; their words popped from their lips like corks from champagne bottles; their gesticulating became wilder and in fact more alarming--considering the little room left in the projectile for muscular displays of any kind. but the most extraordinary part of the whole phenomenon was that neither of them, not even barbican, had the slightest consciousness of any strange or unusual ebullition of spirits either on his own part or on that of the others. "see here, gentlemen!" said the captain in a quick imperious manner--the roughness of his old life on the mississippi would still break out--"see here, gentlemen! it seems i'm not to know if we are to return from the moon. well!--pass that for the present! but there is one thing i _must_ know!" "hear! hear the captain!" cried barbican, stamping with his foot, like an excited fencing master. "there is one thing he _must_ know!" "i want to know what we're going to do when we get there!" "he wants to know what we're going to do when we get there! a sensible question! answer it, ardan!" "answer it yourself, barbican! you know more about the moon than i do! you know more about it than all the nasmyths that ever lived!" "i'm blessed if i know anything at all about it!" cried barbican, with a joyous laugh. "ha, ha, ha! the first eastern shore marylander or any other simpleton you meet in baltimore, knows as much about the moon as i do! why we're going there, i can't tell! what we're going to do when we get there, can't tell either! ardan knows all about it! he can tell! he's taking us there!" "certainly i can tell! should i have offered to take you there without a good object in view?" cried ardan, husky with continual roaring. "answer me that!" "no conundrums!" cried the captain, in a voice sourer and rougher than ever; "tell us if you can in plain english, what the demon we have come here for!" "i'll tell you if i feel like it," cried ardan, folding his arms with an aspect of great dignity; "and i'll not tell you if i don't feel like it!" "what's that?" cried barbican. "you'll not give us an answer when we ask you a reasonable question?" "never!" cried ardan, with great determination. "i'll never answer a question reasonable or unreasonable, unless it is asked in a proper manner!" "none of your french airs here!" exclaimed m'nicholl, by this time almost completely out of himself between anger and excitement. "i don't know where i am; i don't know where i'm going; i don't know why i'm going; _you_ know all about it, ardan, or at least you think you do! well then, give me a plain answer to a plain question, or by the thirty-eight states of our glorious union, i shall know what for!" "listen, ardan!" cried barbican, grappling with the frenchman, and with some difficulty restraining him from flying at m'nicholl's throat; "you ought to tell him! it is only your duty! one day you found us both in st. helena woods, where we had no more idea of going to the moon than of sailing to the south pole! there you twisted us both around your finger, and induced us to follow you blindly on the most formidable journey ever undertaken by man! and now you refuse to tell us what it was all for!" "i don't refuse, dear old barbican! to you, at least, i can't refuse anything!" cried ardan, seizing his friend's hands and wringing them violently. then letting them go and suddenly starting back, "you wish to know," he continued in resounding tones, "why we have followed out the grandest idea that ever set a human brain on fire! why we have undertaken a journey that for length, danger, and novelty, for fascinating, soul-stirring and delirious sensations, for all that can attract man's burning heart, and satisfy the intensest cravings of his intellect, far surpasses the vividest realities of dante's passionate dream! well, i will tell you! it is to annex another world to the new one! it is to take possession of the moon in the name of the united states of america! it is to add a thirty-ninth state to the glorious union! it is to colonize the lunar regions, to cultivate them, to people them, to transport to them some of our wonders of art, science, and industry! it is to civilize the selenites, unless they are more civilized already than we are ourselves! it is to make them all good republicans, if they are not so already!" "provided, of course, that there are selenites in existence!" sneered the captain, now sourer than ever, and in his unaccountable excitement doubly irritating. "who says there are no selenites?" cried ardan fiercely, with fists clenched and brows contracted. "i do!" cried m'nicholl stoutly; "i deny the existence of anything of the kind, and i denounce every one that maintains any such whim as a visionary, if not a fool!" ardan's reply to this taunt was a desperate facer, which, however, barbican managed to stop while on its way towards the captain's nose. m'nicholl, seeing himself struck at, immediately assumed such a posture of defence as showed him to be no novice at the business. a battle seemed unavoidable; but even at this trying moment barbican showed himself equal to the emergency. "stop, you crazy fellows! you ninnyhammers! you overgrown babies!" he exclaimed, seizing his companions by the collar, and violently swinging them around with his vast strength until they stood back to back; "what are you going to fight about? suppose there are lunarians in the moon! is that a reason why there should be lunatics in the projectile! but, ardan, why do you insist on lunarians? are we so shiftless that we can't do without them when we get to the moon?" "i don't insist on them!" cried ardan, who submitted to barbican like a child. "hang the lunarians! certainly, we can do without them! what do i care for them? down with them!" "yes, down with the lunarians!" cried m'nicholl as spitefully as if he had even the slightest belief in their existence. "we shall take possession of the moon ourselves!" cried ardan. "lunarians or no lunarians!" "we three shall constitute a republic!" cried m'nicholl. "i shall be the house!" cried ardan. "and i the senate!" answered the captain. "and barbican our first president!" shrieked the frenchman. "our first and last!" roared m'nicholl. "no objections to a third term!" yelled ardan. "he's welcome to any number of terms he pleases!" vociferated m'nicholl. "hurrah for president barbican of the lunatic--i mean of the lunar republic!" screamed ardan. "long may he wave, and may his shadow never grow less!" shouted captain m'nicholl, his eyes almost out of their sockets. then with voices reminding you of sand fiercely blown against the window panes, the _president_ and the _senate_ chanted the immortal _yankee doodle_, whilst the _house_ delivered itself of the _marseillaise_, in a style which even the wildest jacobins in robespierre's day could hardly have surpassed. but long before either song was ended, all three broke out into a dance, wild, insensate, furious, delirious, paroxysmatical. no orphic festivals on mount cithaeron ever raged more wildly. no bacchic revels on mount parnassus were ever more corybantic. diana, demented by the maddening example, joined in the orgie, howling and barking frantically in her turn, and wildly jumping as high as the ceiling of the projectile. then came new accessions to the infernal din. wings suddenly began to flutter, cocks to crow, hens to cluck; and five or six chickens, managing to escape out of their coop, flew backwards and forwards blindly, with frightened screams, dashing against each other and against the walls of the projectile, and altogether getting up as demoniacal a hullabaloo as could be made by ten thousand bats that you suddenly disturbed in a cavern where they had slept through the winter. then the three companions, no longer able to withstand the overpowering influence of the mysterious force that mastered them, intoxicated, more than drunk, burned by the air that scorched their organs of respiration, dropped at last, and lay flat, motionless, senseless as dabs of clay, on the floor of the projectile. [illustration: a demoniacal hullabaloo.] chapter viii. the neutral point. what had taken place? whence proceeded this strange intoxication whose consequences might have proved so disastrous? a little forgetfulness on ardan's part had done the whole mischief, but fortunately m'nicholl was able to remedy it in time. after a regular fainting spell several minutes long, the captain was the first man to return to consciousness and the full recovery of his intellectual faculties. his first feelings were far from pleasant. his stomach gnawed him as if he had not eaten for a week, though he had taken breakfast only a few hours before; his eyes were dim, his brain throbbing, and his limbs shaking. in short, he presented every symptom usually seen in a man dying of starvation. picking himself up with much care and difficulty, he roared out to ardan for something to eat. seeing that the frenchman was unable or unwilling to respond, he concluded to help himself, by beginning first of all to prepare a little tea. to do this, fire was necessary; so, to light his lamp, he struck a match. but what was his surprise at seeing the sulphur tip of the match blazing with a light so bright and dazzling that his eyes could hardly bear it! touching it to the gas burner, a stream of light flashed forth equal in its intensity to the flame of an electric lamp. then he understood it all in an instant. the dazzling glare, his maddened brain, his gnawing stomach--all were now clear as the noon-day sun. "the oxygen!" he cried, and, suddenly stooping down and examining the tap of the air apparatus, he saw that it had been only half turned off. consequently the air was gradually getting more and more impregnated with this powerful gas, colorless, odorless, tasteless, infinitely precious, but, unless when strongly diluted with nitrogen, capable of producing fatal disorders in the human system. ardan, startled by m'nicholl's question about the means of returning from the moon, had turned the cock only half off. the captain instantly stopped the escape of the oxygen, but not one moment too soon. it had completely saturated the atmosphere. a few minutes more and it would have killed the travellers, not like carbonic acid, by smothering them, but by burning them up, as a strong draught burns up the coals in a stove. [illustration: "the oxygen!" he cried.] it took nearly an hour for the air to become pure enough to allow the lungs their natural play. slowly and by degrees, the travellers recovered from their intoxication; they had actually to sleep off the fumes of the oxygen as a drunkard has to sleep off the effects of his brandy. when ardan learned that he was responsible for the whole trouble, do you think the information disconcerted him? not a bit of it. on the contrary, he was rather proud of having done something startling, to break the monotony of the journey; and to put a little life, as he said, into old barbican and the grim captain, so as to get a little fun out of such grave philosophers. after laughing heartily at the comical figure cut by his two friends capering like crazy students at the _closerie des lilas_, he went on moralizing on the incident: "for my part, i'm not a bit sorry for having partaken of this fuddling gas. it gives me an idea, dear boys. would it not be worth some enterprising fellow's while to establish a sanatorium provided with oxygen chambers, where people of a debilitated state of health could enjoy a few hours of intensely active existence! there's money in it, as you americans say. just suppose balls or parties given in halls where the air would be provided with an extra supply of this enrapturing gas! or, theatres where the atmosphere would be maintained in a highly oxygenated condition. what passion, what fire in the actors! what enthusiasm in the spectators! and, carrying the idea a little further, if, instead of an assembly or an audience, we should oxygenize towns, cities, a whole country--what activity would be infused into the whole people! what new life would electrify a stagnant community! out of an old used-up nation we could perhaps make a bran-new one, and, for my part, i know more than one state in old europe where this oxygen experiment might be attended with a decided advantage, or where, at all events, it could do no harm!" the frenchman spoke so glibly and gesticulated so earnestly that m'nicholl once more gravely examined the stop-cock; but barbican damped his enthusiasm by a single observation. "friend michael," said he, "your new and interesting idea we shall discuss at a more favorable opportunity. at present we want to know where all these cocks and hens have come from." "these cocks and hens?" "yes." ardan threw a glance of comical bewilderment on half a dozen or so of splendid barn-yard fowls that were now beginning to recover from the effects of the oxygen. for an instant he could not utter a word; then, shrugging his shoulders, he muttered in a low voice: "catastrophe prematurely exploded!" "what are you going to do with these chickens?" persisted barbican. "acclimatize them in the moon, by jove! what else?" was the ready reply. "why conceal them then?" "a hoax, a poor hoax, dear president, which proves a miserable failure! i intended to let them loose on the lunar continent at the first favorable opportunity. i often had a good laugh to myself, thinking of your astonishment and the captain's at seeing a lot of american poultry scratching for worms on a lunar dunghill!" "ah! wag, jester, incorrigible _farceur_!" cried barbican with a smile; "you want no nitrous oxide to put a bee in your bonnet! he is always as bad as you and i were for a short time, m'nicholl, under the laughing gas! he's never had a sensible moment in his life!" "i can't say the same of you," replied ardan; "you had at least one sensible moment in all your lives, and that was about an hour ago!" their incessant chattering did not prevent the friends from at once repairing the disorder of the interior of the projectile. cocks and hens were put back in their cages. but while doing so, the friends were astonished to find that the birds, though good sized creatures, and now pretty fat and plump, hardly felt heavier in their hands than if they had been so many sparrows. this drew their interested attention to a new phenomenon. from the moment they had left the earth, their own weight, and that of the projectile and the objects therein contained, had been undergoing a progressive diminution. they might never be able to ascertain this fact with regard to the projectile, but the moment was now rapidly approaching when the loss of weight would become perfectly sensible, both regarding themselves and the tools and instruments surrounding them. of course, it is quite clear, that this decrease could not be indicated by an ordinary scales, as the weight to balance the object would have lost precisely as much as the object itself. but a spring balance, for instance, in which the tension of the coil is independent of attraction, would have readily given the exact equivalent of the loss. attraction or weight, according to newton's well known law, acting in direct proportion to the mass of the attracting body and in inverse proportion to the square of the distance, this consequence clearly follows: had the earth been alone in space, or had the other heavenly bodies been suddenly annihilated, the further from the earth the projectile would be, the less weight it would have. however, it would never _entirely_ lose its weight, as the terrestrial attraction would have always made itself felt at no matter what distance. but as the earth is not the only celestial body possessing attraction, it is evident that there may be a point in space where the respective attractions may be entirely annihilated by mutual counteraction. of this phenomenon the present instance was a case in point. in a short time, the projectile and its contents would for a few moments be absolutely and completely deprived of all weight whatsoever. the path described by the projectile was evidently a line from the earth to the moon averaging somewhat less than 240,000 miles in length. according as the distance between the projectile and the earth was increasing, the terrestrial attraction was diminishing in the ratio of the square of the distance, and the lunar attraction was augmenting in the same proportion. as before observed, the point was not now far off where, the two attractions counteracting each other, the bullet would actually weigh nothing at all. if the masses of the earth and the moon had been equal, this should evidently be found half way between the two bodies. but by making allowance for the difference of the respective masses, it was easy to calculate that this point would be situated at the 9/10 of the total distance, or, in round numbers, at something less than 216,000 miles from the earth. at this point, a body that possessed no energy or principle of movement within itself, would remain forever, relatively motionless, suspended like mahomet's coffin, being equally attracted by the two orbs and nothing impelling it in one direction rather than in the other. now the projectile at this moment was nearing this point; if it reached it, what would be the consequence? to this question three answers presented themselves, all possible under the circumstances, but very different in their results. 1. suppose the projectile to possess velocity enough to pass the neutral point. in such case, it would undoubtedly proceed onward to the moon, being drawn thither by lunar attraction. 2. suppose it lacked the requisite velocity for reaching the neutral point. in such a case it would just as certainly fall back to the earth, in obedience to the law of terrestrial attraction. 3. suppose it to be animated by just sufficient velocity to reach the neutral point, but not to pass it. in that case, the projectile would remain forever in the same spot, perfectly motionless as far as regards the earth and the moon, though of course following them both in their annual orbits round the sun. such was now the state of things, which barbican tried to explain to his friends, who, it need hardly be said, listened to his remarks with the most intense interest. how were they to know, they asked him, the precise instant at which the projectile would reach the neutral point? that would be an easy matter, he assured them. it would be at the very moment when both themselves and all the other objects contained in the projectile would be completely free from every operation of the law of gravity; in other words, when everything would cease to have weight. this gradual diminution of the action of gravity, the travellers had been for some time noticing, but they had not yet witnessed its total cessation. but that very morning, about an hour before noon, as the captain was making some little experiment in chemistry, he happened by accident to overturn a glass full of water. what was his surprise at seeing that neither the glass nor the water fell to the floor! both remained suspended in the air almost completely motionless. "the prettiest experiment i ever saw!" cried ardan; "let us have more of it!" and seizing the bottles, the arms, and the other objects in the projectile, he arranged them around each other in the air with some regard to symmetry and proportion. the different articles, keeping strictly each in its own place, formed a very attractive group wonderful to behold. diana, placed in the apex of the pyramid, would remind you of those marvellous suspensions in the air performed by houdin, herman, and a few other first class wizards. only being kept in her place without being hampered by invisible strings, the animal rather seemed to enjoy the exhibition, though in all probability she was hardly conscious of any thing unusual in her appearance. our travellers had been fully prepared for such a phenomenon, yet it struck them with as much surprise as if they had never uttered a scientific reason to account for it. they saw that, no longer subject to the ordinary laws of nature, they were now entering the realms of the marvellous. they felt that their bodies were absolutely without weight. their arms, fully extended, no longer sought their sides. their heads oscillated unsteadily on their shoulders. their feet no longer rested on the floor. in their efforts to hold themselves straight, they looked like drunken men trying to maintain the perpendicular. we have all read stories of some men deprived of the power of reflecting light and of others who could not cast a shadow. but here reality, no fantastic story, showed you men who, through the counteraction of attractive forces, could tell no difference between light substances and heavy substances, and who absolutely had no weight whatever themselves! "let us take graceful attitudes!" cried ardan, "and imagine we are playing _tableaux_! let us, for instance, form a grand historical group of the three great goddesses of the nineteenth century. barbican will represent minerva or _science_; the captain, bellona or _war_; while i, as madre natura, the newly born goddess of _progress_, floating gracefully over you both, extend my hands so, fondly patronizing the one, but grandly ordering off the other, to the regions of eternal night! more on your toe, captain! your right foot a little higher! look at barbican's admirable pose! now then, prepare to receive orders for a new tableau! form group _à la jardin mabille!_ presto! change!" in an instant, our travellers, changing attitudes, formed the new group with tolerable success. even barbican, who had been to paris in his youth, yielding for a moment to the humor of the thing, acted the _naif anglais_ to the life. the captain was frisky enough to remind you of a middle-aged frenchman from the provinces, on a hasty visit to the capital for a few days' fun. ardan was in raptures. "oh! if raphael could only see us!" he exclaimed in a kind of ecstasy. "he would paint such a picture as would throw all his other masterpieces in the shade!" "knock spots out of the best of them by fifty per cent!" cried the captain, gesticulating well enough _à l'étudiant_, but rather mixing his metaphors. [illustration: a group _a la jardin mabille_.] "he should be pretty quick in getting through the job," observed barbican, the first as usual to recover tranquillity. "as soon as the projectile will have passed the neutral point--in half an hour at longest--lunar attraction will draw us to the moon." "we shall have to crawl on the ceiling then like flies," said ardan. "not at all," said the captain; "the projectile, having its centre of gravity very low, will turn upside down by degrees." "upside down!" cried ardan. "that will be a nice mess! everything higgledy-piggledy!" "no danger, friend michael," said m'nicholl; "there shall be no disorder whatever; nothing will quit its place; the movement of the projectile will be effected by such slow degrees as to be imperceptible." "yes," added barbican, "as soon as we shall have passed the neutral point, the base of the projectile, its heaviest part, will swing around gradually until it faces the moon. before this phenomenon, however, can take place, we must of course cross the line." "cross the line!" cried the frenchman; "then let us imitate the sailors when they do the same thing in the atlantic ocean! splice the main brace!" a slight effort carried him sailing over to the side of the projectile. opening a cupboard and taking out a bottle and a few glasses, he placed them on a tray. then setting the tray itself in the air as on a table in front of his companions, he filled the glasses, passed them around, and, in a lively speech interrupted with many a joyous hurrah, congratulated his companions on their glorious achievement in being the first that ever crossed the lunar line. this counteracting influence of the attractions lasted nearly an hour. by that time the travellers could keep themselves on the floor without much effort. barbican also made his companions remark that the conical point of the projectile diverged a little from the direct line to the moon, while by an inverse movement, as they could notice through the window of the floor, the base was gradually turning away from the earth. the lunar attraction was evidently getting the better of the terrestrial. the fall towards the moon, though still almost insensible, was certainly beginning. it could not be more than the eightieth part of an inch in the first second. but by degrees, as the attractive force would increase, the fall would be more decided, and the projectile, overbalanced by its base, and presenting its cone to the earth, would descend with accelerated velocity to the lunar surface. the object of their daring attempt would then be successfully attained. no further obstacle, therefore, being likely to stand in the way of the complete success of the enterprise, the captain and the frenchman cordially shook hands with barbican, all kept congratulating each other on their good fortune as long as the bottle lasted. they could not talk enough about the wonderful phenomenon lately witnessed; the chief point, the neutralization of the law of gravity, particularly, supplied them with an inexhaustible subject. the frenchman, as usual, as enthusiastic in his fancy, as he was fanciful in his enthusiasm, got off some characteristic remarks. "what a fine thing it would be, my boys," he exclaimed, "if on earth we could be so fortunate as we have been here, and get rid of that weight that keeps us down like lead, that rivets us to it like an adamantine chain! then should we prisoners become free! adieu forever to all weariness of arms or feet! at present, in order to fly over the surface of the earth by the simple exertion of our muscles or even to sustain ourselves in the air, we require a muscular force fifty times greater than we possess; but if attraction did not exist, the simplest act of the will, our slightest whim even, would be sufficient to transport us to whatever part of space we wished to visit." "ardan, you had better invent something to kill attraction," observed m'nicholl drily; "you can do it if you try. jackson and morton have killed pain by sulphuric ether. suppose you try your hand on attraction!" "it would be worth a trial!" cried ardan, so full of his subject as not to notice the captain's jeering tone; "attraction once destroyed, there is an end forever to all loads, packs and burdens! how the poor omnibus horses would rejoice! adieu forever to all cranes, derricks, capstans, jack-screws, and even hotel-elevators! we could dispense with all ladders, door steps, and even stair-cases!" "and with all houses too," interrupted barbican; "or, at least, we _should_ dispense with them because we could not have them. if there was no weight, you could neither make a wall of bricks nor cover your house with a roof. even your hat would not stay on your head. the cars would not stay on the railway nor the boats on the water. what do i say? we could not have any water. even the ocean would leave its bed and float away into space. nay, the atmosphere itself would leave us, being detained in its place by terrestrial attraction and by nothing else." "too true, mr. president," replied ardan after a pause. "it's a fact. i acknowledge the corn, as marston says. but how you positive fellows do knock holes into our pretty little creations of fancy!" "don't feel so bad about it, ardan;" observed m'nicholl; "though there may be no orb from which gravity is excluded altogether, we shall soon land in one, where it is much less powerful than on the earth." "you mean the moon!" "yes, the moon. her mass being 1/89 of the earth's, her attractive power should be in the same proportion; that is, a boy 10 years old, whose weight on earth is about 90 lbs., would weigh on the moon only about 1 pound, if nothing else were to be taken into consideration. but when standing on the surface of the moon, he is relatively 4 times nearer to the centre than when he is standing on the surface of the earth. his weight, therefore, having to be increased by the square of the distance, must be sixteen times greater. now 16 times 1/89 being less than 1/5, it is clear that my weight of 150 pounds will be cut down to nearly 30 as soon as we reach the moon's surface." "and mine?" asked ardan. "yours will hardly reach 25 pounds, i should think," was the reply. "shall my muscular strength diminish in the same proportion?" was the next question. "on the contrary, it will be relatively so much the more increased that you can take a stride 15 feet in width as easily as you can now take one of ordinary length." "we shall be all samsons, then, in the moon!" cried ardan. "especially," replied m'nicholl, "if the stature of the selenites is in proportion to the mass of their globe." "if so, what should be their height?" "a tall man would hardly be twelve inches in his boots!" "they must be veritable lilliputians then!" cried ardan; "and we are all to be gullivers! the old myth of the giants realized! perhaps the titans that played such famous parts in the prehistoric period of our earth, were adventurers like ourselves, casually arrived from some great planet!" "not from such planets as _mercury_, _venus_ or _mars_ anyhow, friend michael," observed barbican. "but the inhabitants of _jupiter_, _saturn_, _uranus,_ or _neptune_, if they bear the same proportion to their planet that we do ours, must certainly be regular brobdignagians." "let us keep severely away from all planets of the latter class then," said ardan. "i never liked to play the part of lilliputian myself. but how about the sun, barbican? i always had a hankering after the sun!" "the sun's volume is about 1-1/3 million times greater than that of the earth, but his density being only about 1/4, the attraction on his surface is hardly 30 times greater than that of our globe. still, every proportion observed, the inhabitants of the sun can't be much less than 150 or 160 feet in height." "_mille tonnerres!_" cried ardan, "i should be there like ulysses among the cyclops! i'll tell you what it is, barbican; if we ever decide on going to the sun, we must provide ourselves before hand with a few of your rodman's columbiads to frighten off the solarians!" "your columbiads would not do great execution there," observed m'nicholl; "your bullet would be hardly out of the barrel when it would drop to the surface like a heavy stone pushed off the wall of a house." "oh! i like that!" laughed the incredulous ardan. "a little calculation, however, shows the captain's remark to be perfectly just," said barbican. "rodman's ordinary 15 inch columbiad requires a charge of 100 pounds of mammoth powder to throw a ball of 500 pounds weight. what could such a charge do with a ball weighing 30 times as much or 15,000 pounds? reflect on the enormous weight everything must have on the surface of the sun! your hat, for instance, would weigh 20 or 30 pounds. your cigar nearly a pound. in short, your own weight on the sun's surface would be so great, more than two tons, that if you ever fell you should never be able to pick yourself up again!" "yes," added the captain, "and whenever you wanted to eat or drink you should rig up a set of powerful machinery to hoist the eatables and drinkables into your mouth." "enough of the sun to-day, boys!" cried ardan, shrugging his shoulders; "i don't contemplate going there at present. let us be satisfied with the moon! there, at least, we shall be of some account!" chapter ix. a little off the track. barbican's mind was now completely at rest at least on one subject. the original force of the discharge had been great enough to send the projectile beyond the neutral line. therefore, there was no longer any danger of its falling back to the earth. therefore, there was no longer any danger of its resting eternally motionless on the point of the counteracting attractions. the next subject to engage his attention was the question: would the projectile, under the influence of lunar attraction, succeed in reaching its destination? the only way in which it _could_ succeed was by falling through a space of nearly 24,000 miles and then striking the moon's surface. a most terrific fall! even taking the lunar attraction to be only the one-sixth of the earth's, such a fall was simply bewildering to think of. the greatest height to which a balloon ever ascended was seven miles (glaisher, 1862). imagine a fall from even that distance! then imagine a fall from a height of four thousand miles! yet it was for a fall of this appalling kind on the surface of the moon that the travellers had now to prepare themselves. instead of avoiding it, however, they eagerly desired it and would be very much disappointed if they missed it. they had taken the best precautions they could devise to guard against the terrific shock. these were mainly of two kinds: one was intended to counteract as much as possible the fearful results to be expected the instant the projectile touched the lunar surface; the other, to retard the velocity of the fall itself, and thereby to render it less violent. the best arrangement of the first kind was certainly barbican's water-contrivance for counteracting the shock at starting, which has been so fully described in our former volume. (see _baltimore gun club_, page 353.) but unfortunately it could be no longer employed. even if the partitions were in working order, the water--two thousand pounds in weight had been required--was no longer to be had. the little still left in the tanks was of no account for such a purpose. besides, they had not a single drop of the precious liquid to spare, for they were as yet anything but sanguine regarding the facility of finding water on the moon's surface. fortunately, however, as the gentle reader may remember, barbican, besides using water to break the concussion, had provided the movable disc with stout pillars containing a strong buffing apparatus, intended to protect it from striking the bottom too violently after the destruction of the different partitions. these buffers were still good, and, gravity being as yet almost imperceptible, to put them once more in order and adjust them to the disc was not a difficult task. the travellers set to work at once and soon accomplished it. the different pieces were put together readily--a mere matter of bolts and screws, with plenty of tools to manage them. in a short time the repaired disc rested on its steel buffers, like a table on its legs, or rather like a sofa seat on its springs. the new arrangement was attended with at least one disadvantage. the bottom light being covered up, a convenient view of the moon's surface could not be had as soon as they should begin to fall in a perpendicular descent. this, however, was only a slight matter, as the side lights would permit the adventurers to enjoy quite as favorable a view of the vast regions of the moon as is afforded to balloon travellers when looking down on the earth over the sides of their car. the disc arrangement was completed in about an hour, but it was not till past twelve o'clock before things were restored to their usual order. barbican then tried to make fresh observations regarding the inclination of the projectile; but to his very decided chagrin he found that it had not yet turned over sufficiently to commence the perpendicular fall: on the contrary, it even seemed to be following a curve rather parallel with that of the lunar disc. the queen of the stars now glittered with a light more dazzling than ever, whilst from an opposite part of the sky the glorious king of day flooded her with his fires. the situation began to look a little serious. "shall we ever get there!" asked the captain. "let us be prepared for getting there, any how," was barbican's dubious reply. "you're a pretty pair of suspenders," said ardan cheerily (he meant of course doubting hesitators, but his fluent command of english sometimes led him into such solecisms). "certainly we shall get there--and perhaps a little sooner than will be good for us." this reply sharply recalled barbican to the task he had undertaken, and he now went to work seriously, trying to combine arrangements to break the fall. the reader may perhaps remember ardan's reply to the captain on the day of the famous meeting in tampa. "your fall would be violent enough," the captain had urged, "to splinter you like glass into a thousand fragments." "and what shall prevent me," had been ardan's ready reply, "from breaking my fall by means of counteracting rockets suitably disposed, and let off at the proper time?" the practical utility of this idea had at once impressed barbican. it could hardly be doubted that powerful rockets, fastened on the outside to the bottom of the projectile, could, when discharged, considerably retard the velocity of the fall by their sturdy recoil. they could burn in a vacuum by means of oxygen furnished by themselves, as powder burns in the chamber of a gun, or as the volcanoes of the moon continue their action regardless of the absence of a lunar atmosphere. barbican had therefore provided himself with rockets enclosed in strong steel gun barrels, grooved on the outside so that they could be screwed into corresponding holes already made with much care in the bottom of the projectile. they were just long enough, when flush with the floor inside, to project outside by about six inches. they were twenty in number, and formed two concentric circles around the dead light. small holes in the disc gave admission to the wires by which each of the rockets was to be discharged externally by electricity. the whole effect was therefore to be confined to the outside. the mixtures having been already carefully deposited in each barrel, nothing further need be done than to take away the metallic plugs which had been screwed into the bottom of the projectile, and replace them by the rockets, every one of which was found to fit its grooved chamber with rigid exactness. this evidently should have been all done before the disc had been finally laid on its springs. but as this had to be lifted up again in order to reach the bottom of the projectile, more work was to be done than was strictly necessary. though the labor was not very hard, considering that gravity had as yet scarcely made itself felt, m'nicholl and ardan were not sorry to have their little joke at barbican's expense. the frenchman began humming "_aliquandoque bonus dormitat homerus,_" to a tune from _orphée aux enfers_, and the captain said something about the philadelphia highway commissioners who pave a street one day, and tear it up the next to lay the gas pipes. but his friends' humor was all lost on barbican, who was so wrapped up in his work that he probably never heard a word they said. towards three o'clock every preparation was made, every possible precaution taken, and now our bold adventurers had nothing more to do than watch and wait. the projectile was certainly approaching the moon. it had by this time turned over considerably under the influence of attraction, but its own original motion still followed a decidedly oblique direction. the consequence of these two forces might possibly be a tangent, line approaching the edge of the moon's disc. one thing was certain: the projectile had not yet commenced to fall directly towards her surface; its base, in which its centre of gravity lay, was still turned away considerably from the perpendicular. barbican's countenance soon showed perplexity and even alarm. his projectile was proving intractable to the laws of gravitation. the _unknown_ was opening out dimly before him, the great boundless unknown of the starry plains. in his pride and confidence as a scientist, he had flattered himself with having sounded the consequence of every possible hypothesis regarding the projectile's ultimate fate: the return to the earth; the arrival at the moon; and the motionless dead stop at the neutral point. but here, a new and incomprehensible fourth hypothesis, big with the terrors of the mystic infinite, rose up before his disturbed mind, like a grim and hollow ghost. after a few seconds, however, he looked at it straight in the face without wincing. his companions showed themselves just as firm. whether it was science that emboldened barbican, his phlegmatic stoicism that propped up the captain, or his enthusiastic vivacity that cheered the irrepressible ardan, i cannot exactly say. but certainly they were all soon talking over the matter as calmly as you or i would discuss the advisability of taking a sail on the lake some beautiful evening in july. their first remarks were decidedly peculiar and quite characteristic. other men would have asked themselves where the projectile was taking them to. do you think such a question ever occurred to them? not a bit of it. they simply began asking each other what could have been the cause of this new and strange state of things. "off the track, it appears," observed ardan. "how's that?" "my opinion is," answered the captain, "that the projectile was not aimed true. every possible precaution had been taken, i am well aware, but we all know that an inch, a line, even the tenth part of a hair's breadth wrong at the start would have sent us thousands of miles off our course by this time." "what have you to say to that, barbican?" asked ardan. "i don't think there was any error at the start," was the confident reply; "not even so much as a line! we took too many tests proving the absolute perpendicularity of the columbiad, to entertain the slightest doubt on that subject. its direction towards the zenith being incontestable, i don't see why we should not reach the moon when she comes to the zenith." "perhaps we're behind time," suggested ardan. "what have you to say to that, barbican?" asked the captain. "you know the cambridge men said the journey had to be done in 97 hours 13 minutes and 20 seconds. that's as much as to say that if we're not up to time we shall miss the moon." "correct," said barbican. "but we _can't_ be behind time. we started, you know, on december 1st, at 13 minutes and 20 seconds before 11 o'clock, and we were to arrive four days later at midnight precisely. to-day is december 5th gentlemen, please examine your watches. it is now half past three in the afternoon. eight hours and a half are sufficient to take us to our journey's end. why should we not arrive there?" "how about being ahead of time?" asked the captain. "just so!" said ardan. "you know we have discovered the initial velocity to have been greater than was expected." "not at all! not at all!" cried barbican "a slight excess of velocity would have done no harm whatever had the direction of the projectile been perfectly true. no. there must have been a digression. we must have been switched off!" "switched off? by what?" asked both his listeners in one breath. "i can't tell," said barbican curtly. "well!" said ardan; "if barbican can't tell, there is an end to all further talk on the subject. we're switched off--that's enough for me. what has done it? i don't care. where are we going to? i don't care. what is the use of pestering our brains about it? we shall soon find out. we are floating around in space, and we shall end by hauling up somewhere or other." but in this indifference barbican was far from participating. not that he was not prepared to meet the future with a bold and manly heart. it was his inability to answer his own question that rendered him uneasy. what _had_ switched them off? he would have given worlds for an answer, but his brain sorely puzzled sought one in vain. in the mean time, the projectile continued to turn its side rather than its base towards the moon; that is, to assume a lateral rather than a direct movement, and this movement was fully participated in by the multitude of the objects that had been thrown outside. barbican could even convince himself by sighting several points on the lunar surface, by this time hardly more than fifteen or eighteen thousand miles distant, that the velocity of the projectile instead of accelerating was becoming more and more uniform. this was another proof that there was no perpendicular fall. however, though the original impulsive force was still superior to the moon's attraction, the travellers were evidently approaching the lunar disc, and there was every reason to hope that they would at last reach a point where, the lunar attraction at last having the best of it, a decided fall should be the result. the three friends, it need hardly be said, continued to make their observations with redoubled interest, if redoubled interest were possible. but with all their care they could as yet determine nothing regarding the topographical details of our radiant satellite. her surface still reflected the solar rays too dazzlingly to show the relief necessary for satisfactory observation. our travellers kept steadily on the watch looking out of the side lights, till eight o'clock in the evening, by which time the moon had grown so large in their eyes that she covered up fully half the sky. at this time the projectile itself must have looked like a streak of light, reflecting, as it did, the sun's brilliancy on the one side and the moon's splendor on the other. barbican now took a careful observation and calculated that they could not be much more than 2,000 miles from the object of their journey. the velocity of the projectile he calculated to be about 650 feet per second or 450 miles an hour. they had therefore still plenty of time to reach the moon in about four hours. but though the bottom of the projectile continued to turn towards the lunar surface in obedience to the law of centripetal force, the centrifugal force was still evidently strong enough to change the path which it followed into some kind of curve, the exact nature of which would be exceedingly difficult to calculate. the careful observations that barbican continued to take did not however prevent him from endeavoring to solve his difficult problem. what _had_ switched them off? the hours passed on, but brought no result. that the adventurers were approaching the moon was evident, but it was just as evident that they should never reach her. the nearest point the projectile could ever possibly attain would only be the result of two opposite forces, the attractive and the repulsive, which, as was now clear, influenced its motion. therefore, to land in the moon was an utter impossibility, and any such idea was to be given up at once and for ever. "_quand même_! what of it!" cried ardan; after some moments' silence. "we're not to land in the moon! well! let us do the next best thing--pass close enough to discover her secrets!" but m'nicholl could not accept the situation so coolly. on the contrary, he decidedly lost his temper, as is occasionally the case with even phlegmatic men. he muttered an oath or two, but in a voice hardly loud enough to reach barbican's ear. at last, impatient of further restraint, he burst out: "who the deuce cares for her secrets? to the hangman with her secrets! we started to land in the moon! that's what's got to be done! that i want or nothing! confound the darned thing, i say, whatever it was, whether on the earth or off it, that shoved us off the track!" "on the earth or off it!" cried barbican, striking his head suddenly; "now i see it! you're right, captain! confound the bolide that we met the first night of our journey!" "hey?" cried ardan. "what do you mean?" asked m'nicholl. "i mean," replied barbican, with a voice now perfectly calm, and in a tone of quiet conviction, "that our deviation is due altogether to that wandering meteor." "why, it did not even graze us!" cried ardan. "no matter for that," replied barbican. "its mass, compared to ours, was enormous, and its attraction was undoubtedly sufficiently great to influence our deviation." "hardly enough to be appreciable," urged m'nicholl. "right again, captain," observed barbican. "but just remember an observation of your own made this very afternoon: an inch, a line, even the tenth part of a hair's breadth wrong at the beginning, in a journey of 240 thousand miles, would be sufficient to make us miss the moon!" chapter x. the observers of the moon. barbican's happy conjecture had probably hit the nail on the head. the divergency even of a second may amount to millions of miles if you only have your lines long enough. the projectile had certainly gone off its direct course; whatever the cause, the fact was undoubted. it was a great pity. the daring attempt must end in a failure due altogether to a fortuitous accident, against which no human foresight could have possibly taken precaution. unless in case of the occurrence of some other most improbable accident, reaching the moon was evidently now impossible. to failure, therefore, our travellers had to make up their minds. but was nothing to be gained by the trip? though missing actual contact with the moon, might they not pass near enough to solve several problems in physics and geology over which scientists had been for a long time puzzling their brains in vain? even this would be some compensation for all their trouble, courage, and intelligence. as to what was to be their own fate, to what doom were themselves to be reserved--they never appeared to think of such a thing. they knew very well that in the midst of those infinite solitudes they should soon find themselves without air. the slight supply that kept them from smothering could not possibly last more than five or six days longer. five or six days! what of that? _quand même_! as ardan often exclaimed. five or six days were centuries to our bold adventurers! at present every second was a year in events, and infinitely too precious to be squandered away in mere preparations for possible contingencies. the moon could never be reached, but was it not possible that her surface could be carefully observed? this they set themselves at once to find out. the distance now separating them from our satellite they estimated at about 400 miles. therefore relatively to their power of discovering the details of her disc, they were still farther off from the moon than some of our modern astronomers are to-day, when provided with their powerful telescopes. we know, for example, that lord rosse's great telescope at parsonstown, possessing a power of magnifying 6000 times, brings the moon to within 40 miles of us; not to speak of barbican's great telescope on the summit of long's peak, by which the moon, magnified 48,000 times, was brought within 5 miles of the earth, where it therefore could reveal with sufficient distinctness every object above 40 feet in diameter. therefore our adventurers, though at such a comparatively small distance, could not make out the topographical details of the moon with any satisfaction by their unaided vision. the eye indeed could easily enough catch the rugged outline of these vast depressions improperly called "seas," but it could do very little more. its powers of adjustability seemed to fail before the strange and bewildering scene. the prominence of the mountains vanished, not only through the foreshortening, but also in the dazzling radiation produced by the direct reflection of the solar rays. after a short time therefore, completely foiled by the blinding glare, the eye turned itself unwillingly away, as if from a furnace of molten silver. the spherical surface, however, had long since begun to reveal its convexity. the moon was gradually assuming the appearance of a gigantic egg with the smaller end turned towards the earth. in the earlier days of her formation, while still in a state of mobility, she had been probably a perfect sphere in shape, but, under the influence of terrestrial gravity operating for uncounted ages, she was drawn at last so much towards the centre of attraction as to resemble somewhat a prolate spheriod. by becoming a satellite, she had lost the native perfect regularity of her outline; her centre of gravity had shifted from her real centre; and as a result of this arrangement, some scientists have drawn the conclusion that the moon's air and water have been attracted to that portion of her surface which is always invisible to the inhabitants of the earth. the convexity of her outline, this bulging prominence of her surface, however, did not last long. the travellers were getting too near to notice it. they were beginning to survey the moon as balloonists survey the earth. the projectile was now moving with great rapidity--with nothing like its initial velocity, but still eight or nine times faster than an express train. its line of movement, however, being oblique instead of direct, was so deceptive as to induce ardan to flatter himself that they might still reach the lunar surface. he could never persuade himself to believe that they should get so near their aim and still miss it. no; nothing might, could, would or should induce him to believe it, he repeated again and again. but barbican's pitiless logic left him no reply. "no, dear friend, no. we can reach the moon only by a fall, and we don't fall. centripetal force keeps us at least for a while under the lunar influence, but centrifugal force drives us away irresistibly." these words were uttered in a tone that killed ardan's last and fondest hope. * * * * * the portion of the moon they were now approaching was her northern hemisphere, found usually in the lower part of lunar maps. the lens of a telescope, as is well known, gives only the inverted image of the object; therefore, when an upright image is required, an additional glass must be used. but as every additional glass is an additional obstruction to the light, the object glass of a lunar telescope is employed without a corrector; light is thereby saved, and in viewing the moon, as in viewing a map, it evidently makes very little difference whether we see her inverted or not. maps of the moon therefore, being drawn from the image formed by the telescope, show the north in the lower part, and _vice versa_. of this kind was the _mappa selenographica_, by beer and maedler, so often previously alluded to and now carefully consulted by barbican. the northern hemisphere, towards which they were now rapidly approaching, presented a strong contrast with the southern, by its vast plains and great depressions, checkered here and there by very remarkable isolated mountains.[a] at midnight the moon was full. this was the precise moment at which the travellers would have landed had not that unlucky bolide drawn them off the track. the moon was therefore strictly up to time, arriving at the instant rigidly determined by the cambridge observatory. she occupied the exact point, to a mathematical nicety, where our 28th parallel crossed the perigee. an observer posted in the bottom of the columbiad at stony hill, would have found himself at this moment precisely under the moon. the axis of the enormous gun, continued upwards vertically, would have struck the orb of night exactly in her centre. it is hardly necessary to tell our readers that, during this memorable night of the 5th and 6th of december, the travellers had no desire to close their eyes. could they do so, even if they had desired? no! all their faculties, thoughts, and desires, were concentrated in one single word: "look!" representatives of the earth, and of all humanity past and present, they felt that it was with their eyes that the race of man contemplated the lunar regions and penetrated the secrets of our satellite! a certain indescribable emotion therefore, combined with an undefined sense of responsibility, held possession of their hearts, as they moved silently from window to window. their observations, recorded by barbican, were vigorously remade, revised, and re-determined, by the others. to make them, they had telescopes which they now began to employ with great advantage. to regulate and investigate them, they had the best maps of the day. whilst occupied in this silent work, they could not help throwing a short retrospective glance on the former observers of the moon. the first of these was galileo. his slight telescope magnified only thirty times, still, in the spots flecking the lunar surface, like the eyes checkering a peacock's tail, he was the first to discover mountains and even to measure their heights. these, considering the difficulties under which he labored, were wonderfully accurate, but unfortunately he made no map embodying his observations. a few years afterwards, hevel of dantzic, (1611-1688) a polish astronomer--more generally known as hevelius, his works being all written in latin--undertook to correct galileo's measurements. but as his method could be strictly accurate only twice a month--the periods of the first and second quadratures--his rectifications could be hardly called successful. still it is to the labors of this eminent astronomer, carried on uninterruptedly for fifty years in his own observatory, that we owe the first map of the moon. it was published in 1647 under the name of _selenographia_. he represented the circular mountains by open spots somewhat round in shape, and by shaded figures he indicated the vast plains, or, as he called them, the _seas_, that occupied so much of her surface. these he designated by names taken from our earth. his map shows you a _mount sinai_ the midst of an _arabia_, an _ætna_ in the centre of a _sicily_, _alps_, _apennines_, _carpathians_, a _mediterranean_, a _palus mæolis_, a _pontus euxinus_, and a _caspian sea_. but these names seem to have been given capriciously and at random, for they never recall any resemblance existing between themselves and their namesakes on our globe. in the wide open spot, for instance, connected on the south with vast continents and terminating in a point, it would be no easy matter to recognize the reversed image of the _indian peninsula_, the _bay of bengal_, and _cochin china_. naturally, therefore, these names were nearly all soon dropped; but another system of nomenclature, proposed by an astronomer better acquainted with the human heart, met with a success that has lasted to the present day. this was father riccioli, a jesuit, and (1598-1671) a contemporary of hevelius. in his _astronomia reformata_, (1665), he published a rough and incorrect map of the moon, compiled from observations made by grimaldi of ferrara; but in designating the mountains, he named them after eminent astronomers, and this idea of his has been carefully carried out by map makers of later times. a third map of the moon was published at rome in 1666 by dominico cassini of nice (1625-1712), the famous discoverer of saturn's satellites. though somewhat incorrect regarding measurements, it was superior to riccioli's in execution, and for a long time it was considered a standard work. copies of this map are still to be found, but cassini's original copper-plate, preserved for a long time at the _imprimerie royale_ in paris, was at last sold to a brazier, by no less a personage than the director of the establishment himself, who, according to arago, wanted to get rid of what he considered useless lumber! la hire (1640-1718), professor of astronomy in the _collège de france_, and an accomplished draughtsman, drew a map of the moon which was thirteen feet in diameter. this map could be seen long afterwards in the library of st. genevieve, paris, but it was never engraved. about 1760, mayer, a famous german astronomer and the director of the observatory of göttingen, began the publication of a magnificent map of the moon, drawn after lunar measurements all rigorously verified by himself. unfortunately his death in 1762 interrupted a work which would have surpassed in accuracy every previous effort of the kind. next appears schroeter of erfurt (1745-1816), a fine observer (he first discovered the lunar _rills_), but a poor draughtsman: his maps are therefore of little value. lohrman of dresden published in 1838 an excellent map of the moon, 15 inches in diameter, accompanied by descriptive text and several charts of particular portions on a larger scale. but this and all other maps were thrown completely into the shade by beer and maedler's famous _mappa selenographica_, so often alluded to in the course of this work. this map, projected orthographically--that is, one in which all the rays proceeding from the surface to the eye are supposed to be parallel to each other--gives a reproduction of the lunar disc exactly as it appears. the representation of the mountains and plains is therefore correct only in the central portion; elsewhere, north, south, east, or west, the features, being foreshortened, are crowded together, and cannot be compared in measurement with those in the centre. it is more than three feet square; for convenient reference it is divided into four parts, each having a very full index; in short, this map is in all respects a master piece of lunar cartography.[b] after beer and maedler, we should allude to julius schmitt's (of athens) excellent selenographic reliefs: to doctor draper's, and to father secchi's successful application of photography to lunar representation; to de la rue's (of london) magnificent stereographs of the moon, to be had at every optician's; to the clear and correct map prepared by lecouturier and chapuis in 1860; to the many beautiful pictures of the moon in various phases of illumination obtained by the messrs. bond of harvard university; to rutherford's (of new york) unparalleled lunar photographs; and finally to nasmyth and carpenter's wonderful work on the moon, illustrated by photographs of her surface in detail, prepared from models at which they had been laboring for more than a quarter of the century. of all these maps, pictures, and projections, barbican had provided himself with only two--beer and maedler's in german, and lecouturier and chapuis' in french. these he considered quite sufficient for all purposes, and certainly they considerably simplified his labors as an observer. his best optical instruments were several excellent marine telescopes, manufactured especially under his direction. magnifying the object a hundred times, on the surface of the earth they would have brought the moon to within a distance of somewhat less than 2400 miles. but at the point to which our travellers had arrived towards three o'clock in the morning, and which could hardly be more than 12 or 1300 miles from the moon, these telescopes, ranging through a medium disturbed by no atmosphere, easily brought the lunar surface to within less than 13 miles' distance from the eyes of our adventurers. therefore they should now see objects in the moon as clearly as people can see the opposite bank of a river that is about 12 miles wide. [footnote a: in our map of the moon, prepared expressly for this work, we have so far improved on beer and maedler as to give her surface as it appears to the naked eye: that is, the north is in the north; only we must always remember that the west is and must be on the _right hand_.] [footnote b: in our map the _mappa selenographica_ is copied as closely and as fully as is necessary for understanding the details of the story. for further information the reader is referred to nasmyth's late magnificent work: the moon.] chapter xi. fact and fancy. "have you ever seen the moon?" said a teacher ironically one day in class to one of his pupils. "no, sir;" was the pert reply; "but i think i can safely say i've heard it spoken about." though saying what he considered a smart thing, the pupil was probably perfectly right. like the immense majority of his fellow beings, he had looked at the moon, heard her talked of, written poetry about her, but, in the strict sense of the term, he had probably never seen her--that is--scanned her, examined her, surveyed her, inspected her, reconnoitred her--even with an opera glass! not one in a thousand, not one in ten thousand, has ever examined even the map of our only satellite. to guard our beloved and intelligent reader against this reproach, we have prepared an excellent reduction of beer and maedler's _mappa_, on which, for the better understanding of what is to follow, we hope he will occasionally cast a gracious eye. when you look at any map of the moon, you are struck first of all with one peculiarity. contrary to the arrangement prevailing in mars and on our earth, the continents occupy principally the southern hemisphere of the lunar orb. then these continents are far from presenting such sharp and regular outlines as distinguish the indian peninsula, africa, and south america. on the contrary, their coasts, angular, jagged, and deeply indented, abound in bays and peninsulas. they remind you of the coast of norway, or of the islands in the sound, where the land seems to be cut up into endless divisions. if navigation ever existed on the moon's surface, it must have been of a singularly difficult and dangerous nature, and we can scarcely say which of the two should be more pitied--the sailors who had to steer through these dangerous and complicated passes, or the map-makers who had to designate them on their charts. you will also remark that the southern pole of the moon is much more _continental_ than the northern. around the latter, there exists only a slight fringe of lands separated from the other continents by vast "seas." this word "seas"--a term employed by the first lunar map constructors--is still retained to designate those vast depressions on the moon's surface, once perhaps covered with water, though they are now only enormous plains. in the south, the continents cover nearly the whole hemisphere. it is therefore possible that the selenites have planted their flag on at least one of their poles, whereas the parrys and franklins of england, the kanes and the wilkeses of america, the dumont d'urvilles and the lamberts of france, have so far met with obstacles completely insurmountable, while in search of those unknown points of our terrestrial globe. the islands--the next feature on the moon's surface--are exceedingly numerous. generally oblong or circular in shape and almost as regular in outline as if drawn with a compass, they form vast archipelagoes like the famous group lying between greece and asia minor, which mythology has made the scene of her earliest and most charming legends. as we gaze at them, the names of naxos, tenedos, milo, and carpathos rise up before our mind's eye, and we begin looking around for the trojan fleet and jason's argo. this, at least, was ardan's idea, and at first his eyes would see nothing on the map but a grecian archipelago. but his companions, sound practical men, and therefore totally devoid of sentiment, were reminded by these rugged coasts of the beetling cliffs of new brunswick and nova scotia; so that, where the frenchman saw the tracks of ancient heroes, the americans saw only commodious shipping points and favorable sites for trading posts--all, of course, in the purest interest of lunar commerce and industry. to end our hasty sketch of the continental portion of the moon, we must say a few words regarding her orthography or mountain systems. with a fair telescope you can distinguish very readily her mountain chains, her isolated mountains, her circuses or ring formations, and her rills, cracks and radiating streaks. the character of the whole lunar relief is comprised in these divisions. it is a surface prodigiously reticulated, upheaved and depressed, apparently without the slightest order or system. it is a vast switzerland, an enormous norway, where everything is the result of direct plutonic action. this surface, so rugged, craggy and wrinkled, seems to be the result of successive contractions of the crust, at an early period of the planet's existence. the examination of the lunar disc is therefore highly favorable for the study of the great geological phenomena of our own globe. as certain astronomers have remarked, the moon's surface, though older than the earth's, has remained younger. that is, it has undergone less change. no water has broken through its rugged elevations, filled up its scowling cavities, and by incessant action tended continuously to the production of a general level. no atmosphere, by its disintegrating, decomposing influence has softened off the rugged features of the plutonic mountains. volcanic action alone, unaffected by either aqueous or atmospheric forces, can here be seen in all its glory. in other words the moon looks now as our earth did endless ages ago, when "she was void and empty and when darkness sat upon the face of the deep;" eons of ages ago, long before the tides of the ocean and the winds of the atmosphere had begun to strew her rough surface with sand and clay, rock and coal, forest and meadow, gradually preparing it, according to the laws of our beneficent creator, to be at last the pleasant though the temporary abode of man! having wandered over vast continents, your eye is attracted by the "seas" of dimensions still vaster. not only their shape, situation, and look, remind us of our own oceans, but, again like them, they occupy the greater part of the moon's surface. the "seas," or, more correctly, plains, excited our travellers' curiosity to a very high degree, and they set themselves at once to examine their nature. the astronomer who first gave names to those "seas" in all probability was a frenchman. hevelius, however, respected them, even riccioli did not disturb them, and so they have come down to us. ardan laughed heartily at the fancies which they called up, and said the whole thing reminded him of one of those "maps of matrimony" that he had once seen or read of in the works of scudéry or cyrano de bergerac. "however," he added, "i must say that this map has much more reality in it than could be found in the sentimental maps of the 17th century. in fact, i have no difficulty whatever in calling it the _map of life!_ very neatly divided into two parts, the east and the west, the masculine and the feminine. the women on the right, and the men on the left!" at such observations, ardan's companions only shrugged their shoulders. a map of the moon in their eyes was a map of the moon, no more, no less; their romantic friend might view it as he pleased. nevertheless, their romantic friend was not altogether wrong. judge a little for yourselves. what is the first "sea" you find in the hemisphere on the left? the _mare imbrium_ or the rainy sea, a fit emblem of our human life, beaten by many a pitiless storm. in a corresponding part of the southern hemisphere you see _mare nubium_, the cloudy sea, in which our poor human reason so often gets befogged. close to this lies _mare humorum_, the sea of humors, where we sail about, the sport of each fitful breeze, "everything by starts and nothing long." around all, embracing all, lies _oceanus procellarum_, the ocean of tempests, where, engaged in one continuous struggle with the gusty whirlwinds, excited by our own passions or those of others, so few of us escape shipwreck. and, when disgusted by the difficulties of life, its deceptions, its treacheries and all the other miseries "that flesh is heir to," where do we too often fly to avoid them? to the _sinus iridium_ or the _sinus roris_, that is rainbow gulf and dewy gulf whose glittering lights, alas! give forth no real illumination to guide our stumbling feet, whose sun-tipped pinnacles have less substance than a dream, whose enchanting waters all evaporate before we can lift a cup-full to our parched lips! showers, storms, fogs, rainbows--is not the whole mortal life of man comprised in these four words? now turn to the hemisphere on the right, the women's side, and you also discover "seas," more numerous indeed, but of smaller dimensions and with gentler names, as more befitting the feminine temperament. first comes _mare serenitatis_, the sea of serenity, so expressive of the calm, tranquil soul of an innocent maiden. near it is _lacus somniorum_, the lake of dreams, in which she loves to gaze at her gilded and rosy future. in the southern division is seen _mare nectaris_, the sea of nectar, over whose soft heaving billows she is gently wafted by love's caressing winds, "youth on the prow and pleasure at the helm." not far off is _mare fecunditatis_, the sea of fertility, in which she becomes the happy mother of rejoicing children. a little north is _mare crisium_, the sea of crises where her life and happiness are sometimes exposed to sudden, and unexpected dangers which fortunately, however, seldom end fatally. far to the left, near the men's side, is _mare vaporum_, the sea of vapors, into which, though it is rather small, and full of sunken rocks, she sometimes allows herself to wander, moody, and pouting, and not exactly knowing where she wants to go or what she wants to do. between the two last expands the great _mare tranquillitatis_, the sea of tranquillity, into whose quiet depths are at last absorbed all her simulated passions, all her futile aspirations, all her unglutted desires, and whose unruffled waters are gliding on forever in noiseless current towards _lacus mortis_, the lake of death, whose misty shores "in ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods are girt." so at least ardan mused as he stooped over beer and maedler's map. did not these strange successive names somewhat justify his flights of fancy? surely they had a wonderful variety of meaning. was it by accident or by forethought deep that the two hemispheres of the moon had been thus so strangely divided, yet, as man to woman, though divided still united, and thus forming even in the cold regions of space a perfect image of our terrestrial existence? who can say that our romantic french friend was altogether wrong in thus explaining the astute fancies of the old astronomers? his companions, however, it need hardly be said, never saw the "seas" in that light. they looked on them not with sentimental but with geographical eyes. they studied this new world and tried to get it by heart, working at it like a school boy at his lessons. they began by measuring its angles and diameters. to their practical, common sense vision _mare nubium_, the cloudy sea, was an immense depression of the surface, sprinkled here and there with a few circular mountains. covering a great portion of that part of the southern hemisphere which lies east of the centre, it occupied a space of about 270 thousand square miles, its central point lying in 15° south latitude and 20° east longitude. northeast from this lay _oceanus procellarum_, the ocean of tempests, the most extensive of all the plains on the lunar disc, embracing a surface of about half a million of square miles, its centre being in 10° north and 45° east. from its bosom those wonderful mountains _kepler_ and _aristarchus_ lifted their vast ramparts glittering with innumerable streaks radiating in all directions. to the north, in the direction of _mare frigoris_, extends _mare imbrium_, the sea of rains, its central point in 35° north and 20° east. it is somewhat circular in shape, and it covers a space of about 300 thousand square miles. south of _oceanus procellarum_ and separated from _mare nubium_ by a goodly number of ring mountains, lies the little basin of _mare humorum_, the sea of humors, containing only about 66 thousand square miles, its central point having a latitude of 25° south and a longitude of 40° east. on the shores of these great seas three "gulfs" are easily found: _sinus aestuum_, the gulf of the tides, northeast of the centre; _sinus iridium_, the gulf of the rainbows, northeast of the _mare imbrium_; and _sinus roris_, the dewy gulf, a little further northeast. all seem to be small plains enclosed between chains of lofty mountains. the western hemisphere, dedicated to the ladies, according to ardan, and therefore naturally more capricious, was remarkable for "seas" of smaller dimensions, but much more numerous. these were principally: _mare serenitatis_, the sea of serenity, 25° north and 20° west, comprising a surface of about 130 thousand square miles; _mare crisium_, the sea of crises, a round, well defined, dark depression towards the northwestern edge, 17° north 55° west, embracing a surface of 60 thousand square miles, a regular caspian sea in fact, only that the plateau in which it lies buried is surrounded by a girdle of much higher mountains. then towards the equator, with a latitude of 5° north and a longitude of 25° west, appears _mare tranquillitatis_, the sea of tranquillity, occupying about 180 thousand square miles. this communicates on the south with _mare nectaris_, the sea of nectar, embracing an extent of about 42 thousand square miles, with a mean latitude of 15° south and a longitude of 35° west. southwest from _mare tranquillitatis_, lies _mare fecunditatis_, the sea of fertility, the greatest in this hemisphere, as it occupies an extent of more than 300 thousand square miles, its latitude being 3° south and its longitude 50° west. for away to the north, on the borders of the _mare frigoris_, or icy sea, is seen the small _mare humboldtianum_, or humboldt sea, with a surface of about 10 thousand square miles. corresponding to this in the southern hemisphere lies the _mare australe_, or south sea, whose surface, as it extends along the western rim, is rather difficult to calculate. finally, right in the centre of the lunar disc, where the equator intersects the first meridian, can be seen _sinus medii_, the central gulf, the common property therefore of all the hemispheres, the northern and southern, as well as of the eastern and western. into these great divisions the surface of our satellite resolved itself before the eyes of barbican and m'nicholl. adding up the various measurements, they found that the surface of her visible hemisphere was about 7-1/2 millions of square miles, of which about the two thirds comprised the volcanoes, the mountain chains, the rings, the islands--in short, the land portion of the lunar surface; the other third comprised the "seas," the "lakes," the "marshes," the "bays" or "gulfs," and the other divisions usually assigned to water. to all this deeply interesting information, though the fruit of observation the closest, aided and confirmed by calculation the profoundest, ardan listened with the utmost indifference. in fact, even his french politeness could not suppress two or three decided yawns, which of course the mathematicians were too absorbed to notice. in their enthusiasm they tried to make him understand that though the moon is 13-1/2 times smaller than our earth, she can show more than 50 thousand craters, which astronomers have already counted and designated by specific names. "to conclude this portion of our investigation therefore," cried barbican, clearing his throat, and occupying aldan's right ear,--"the moon's surface is a honey combed, perforated, punctured--" "a fistulous, a rugose, salebrous,--" cut in the captain, close on the left. --"and highly cribriform superficies--" cried barbican. --"a sieve, a riddle, a colander--" shouted the captain. --"a skimming dish, a buckwheat cake, a lump of green cheese--" went on barbican--. --in fact, there is no knowing how far they would have proceeded with their designations, comparisons, and scientific expressions, had not ardan, driven to extremities by barbican's last profanity, suddenly jumped up, broken away from his companions, and clapped a forcible extinguisher on their eloquence by putting his hands on their lips and keeping them there awhile. then striking a grand attitude, he looked towards the moon and burst out in accents of thrilling indignation: "pardon, o beautiful diana of the ephesians! pardon, o phoebe, thou pearl-faced goddess of night beloved of greece! o isis, thou sympathetic queen of nile-washed cities! o astarte, thou favorite deity of the syrian hills! o artemis, thou symbolical daughter of jupiter and latona, that is of light and darkness! o brilliant sister of the radiant apollo! enshrined in the enchanting strains of virgil and homer, which i only half learned at college, and therefore unfortunately forget just now! otherwise what pleasure i should have had in hurling them at the heads of barbican, m'nicholl, and every other barbarous iconoclast of the nineteenth century!--" here he stopped short, for two reasons: first he was out of breath; secondly, he saw that the irrepressible scientists had been too busy making observations of their own to hear a single word of what he had uttered, and were probably totally unconscious that he had spoken at all. in a few seconds his breath came back in full blast, but the idea of talking when only deaf men were listening was so disconcerting as to leave him actually unable to get off another syllable. chapter xii. a bird's eye view of the lunar mountains. i am rather inclined to believe myself that not one word of ardan's rhapsody had been ever heard by barbican or m'nicholl. long before he had spoken his last words, they had once more become mute as statues, and now were both eagerly watching, pencil in hand, spyglass to eye, the northern lunar hemisphere towards which they were rapidly but indirectly approaching. they had fully made up their minds by this time that they were leaving far behind them the central point which they would have probably reached half an hour ago if they had not been shunted off their course by that inopportune bolide. about half past twelve o'clock, barbican broke the dead silence by saying that after a careful calculation they were now only about 875 miles from the moon's surface, a distance two hundred miles less in length than the lunar radius, and which was still to be diminished as they advanced further north. they were at that moment ten degrees north of the equator, almost directly over the ridge lying between the _mare serenitatis_ and the _mare tranquillitatis_. from this latitude all the way up to the north pole the travellers enjoyed a most satisfactory view of the moon in all directions and under the most favorable conditions. by means of their spyglasses, magnifying a hundred times, they cut down this distance of 875 miles to about 9. the great telescope of the rocky mountains, by its enormous magnifying power of 48,000, brought the moon, it is true, within a distance of 5 miles, or nearly twice as near; but this advantage of nearness was considerably more than counterbalanced by a want of clearness, resulting from the haziness and refractiveness of the terrestrial atmosphere, not to mention those fatal defects in the reflector that the art of man has not yet succeeded in remedying. accordingly, our travellers, armed with excellent telescopes--of just power enough to be no injury to clearness,--and posted on unequalled vantage ground, began already to distinguish certain details that had probably never been noticed before by terrestrial observers. even ardan, by this time quite recovered from his fit of sentiment and probably infected a little by the scientific enthusiasm of his companions, began to observe and note and observe and note, alternately, with all the _sangfroid_ of a veteran astronomer. "friends," said barbican, again interrupting a silence that had lasted perhaps ten minutes, "whither we are going i can't say; if we shall ever revisit the earth, i can't tell. still, it is our duty so to act in all respects as if these labors of ours were one day to be of service to our fellow-creatures. let us keep our souls free from every distraction. we are now astronomers. we see now what no mortal eye has ever gazed on before. this projectile is simply a work room of the great cambridge observatory lifted into space. let us take observations!" with these words, he set to work with a renewed ardor, in which his companions fully participated. the consequence was that they soon had several of the outline maps covered with the best sketches they could make of the moon's various aspects thus presented under such favorable circumstances. they could now remark not only that they were passing the tenth degree of north latitude, but that the projectile followed almost directly the twentieth degree of east longitude. "one thing always puzzled me when examining maps of the moon," observed ardan, "and i can't say that i see it yet as clearly as if i had thought over the matter. it is this. i could understand, when looking through a lens at an object, why we get only its reversed image--a simple law of optics explains _that_. therefore, in a map of the moon, as the bottom means the north and the top the south, why does not the right mean the west and the left the east? i suppose i could have made this out by a little thought, but thinking, that is reflection, not being my forte, it is the last thing i ever care to do. barbican, throw me a word or two on the subject." "i can see what troubles you," answered barbican, "but i can also see that one moment's reflection would have put an end to your perplexity. on ordinary maps of the earth's surface when the north is the top, the right hand must be the east, the left hand the west, and so on. that is simply because we look _down_ from _above_. and such a map seen through a lens will appear reversed in all respects. but in looking at the moon, that is _up_ from _down_, we change our position so far that our right hand points west and our left east. consequently, in our reversed map, though the north becomes south, the right remains east, and--" "enough said! i see it at a glance! thank you, barbican. why did not they make you a professor of astronomy? your hint will save me a world of trouble."[c] aided by the _mappa selenographica_, the travellers could easily recognize the different portions of the moon over which they were now moving. an occasional glance at our reduction of this map, given as a frontispiece, will enable the gentle reader to follow the travellers on the line in which they moved and to understand the remarks and observations in which they occasionally indulged. "where are we now?" asked ardan. "over the northern shores of the _mare nubium_," replied barbican. "but we are still too far off to see with any certainty what they are like. what is the _mare_ itself? a sea, according to the early astronomers? a plain of solid sand, according to later authority? or an immense forest, according to de la rue of london, so far the moon's most successful photographer? this gentleman's authority, ardan, would have given you decided support in your famous dispute with the captain at the meeting near tampa, for he says very decidedly that the moon has an atmosphere, very low to be sure but very dense. this, however, we must find out for ourselves; and in the meantime let us affirm nothing until we have good grounds for positive assertion." _mare nubium_, though not very clearly outlined on the maps, is easily recognized by lying directly east of the regions about the centre. it would appear as if this vast plain were sprinkled with immense lava blocks shot forth from the great volcanoes on the right, _ptolemaeus_, _alphonse_, _alpetragius_ and _arzachel_. but the projectile advanced so rapidly that these mountains soon disappeared, and the travellers were not long before they could distinguish the great peaks that closed the "sea" on its northern boundary. here a radiating mountain showed a summit so dazzling with the reflection of the solar rays that ardan could not help crying out: "it looks like one of the carbon points of an electric light projected on a screen! what do you call it, barbican?" "_copernicus_," replied the president. "let us examine old _copernicus_!" this grand crater is deservedly considered one of the greatest of the lunar wonders. it lifts its giant ramparts to upwards of 12,000 feet above the level of the lunar surface. being quite visible from the earth and well situated for observation, it is a favorite object for astronomical study; this is particularly the case during the phase existing between last quarter and the new moon, when its vast shadows, projected boldly from the east towards the west, allow its prodigious dimensions to be measured. after _tycho_, which is situated in the southern hemisphere, _copernicus_ forms the most important radiating mountain in the lunar disc. it looms up, single and isolated, like a gigantic light-house, on the peninsula separating _mare nubium_ from _oceanus procellarum_ on one side and from _mare imbrium_ on the other; thus illuminating with its splendid radiation three "seas" at a time. the wonderful complexity of its bright streaks diverging on all sides from its centre presented a scene alike splendid and unique. these streaks, the travellers thought, could be traced further north than in any other direction: they fancied they could detect them even in the _mare imbrium_, but this of course might be owing to the point from which they made their observations. at one o'clock in the morning, the projectile, flying through space, was exactly over this magnificent mountain. in spite of the brilliant sunlight that was blazing around them, the travellers could easily recognize the peculiar features of _copernicus_. it belongs to those ring mountains of the first class called circuses. like _kepler_ and _aristarchus_, who rule over _oceanus procellarum_, _copernicus_, when viewed through our telescopes, sometimes glistens so brightly through the ashy light of the moon that it has been frequently taken for a volcano in full activity. whatever it may have been once, however, it is certainly nothing more now than, like all the other mountains on the visible side of the moon, an extinct volcano, only with a crater of such exceeding grandeur and sublimity as to throw utterly into the shade everything like it on our earth. the crater of etna is at most little more than a mile across. the crater of _copernicus_ has a diameter of at least 50 miles. within it, the travellers could easily discover by their glasses an immense number of terraced ridges, probably landslips, alternating with stratifications resulting from successive eruptions. here and there, but particularly in the southern side, they caught glimpses of shadows of such intense blackness, projected across the plateau and lying there like pitch spots, that they could not tell them from yawning chasms of incalculable depth. outside the crater the shadows were almost as deep, whilst on the plains all around, particularly in the west, so many small craters could be detected that the eye in vain attempted to count them. "many circular mountains of this kind," observed barbican, "can be seen on the lunar surface, but _copernicus_, though not one of the greatest, is one of the most remarkable on account of those diverging streaks of bright light that you see radiating from its summit. by looking steadily into its crater, you can see more cones than mortal eye ever lit on before. they are so numerous as to render the interior plateau quite rugged, and were formerly so many openings giving vent to fire and volcanic matter. a curious and very common arrangement of this internal plateau of lunar craters is its lying at a lower level than the external plains, quite the contrary to a terrestrial crater, which generally has its bottom much higher than the level of the surrounding country. it follows therefore that the deep lying curve of the bottom of these ring mountains would give a sphere with a diameter somewhat smaller than the moon's." "what can be the cause of this peculiarity?" asked m'nicholl. "i can't tell;" answered barbican, "but, as a conjecture, i should say that it is probably to the comparatively smaller area of the moon and the more violent character of her volcanic action that the extremely rugged character of her surface is mainly due." "why, it's the _campi phlegraei_ or the fire fields of naples over again!" cried ardan suddenly. "there's _monte barbaro_, there's the _solfatara_, there is the crater of _astroni_, and there is the _monte nuovo_, as plain as the hand on my body!" "the great resemblance between the region you speak of and the general surface of the moon has been often remarked;" observed barbican, "but it is even still more striking in the neighborhood of _theophilus_ on the borders of _mare nectaris_." "that's _mare nectaris_, the gray spot over there on the southwest, isn't it?" asked m'nicholl; "is there any likelihood of our getting a better view of it?" "not the slightest," answered barbican, "unless we go round the moon and return this way, like a satellite describing its orbit." by this time they had arrived at a point vertical to the mountain centre. _copernicus's_ vast ramparts formed a perfect circle or rather a pair of concentric circles. all around the mountain extended a dark grayish plain of savage aspect, on which the peak shadows projected themselves in sharp relief. in the gloomy bottom of the crater, whose dimensions are vast enough to swallow mont blanc body and bones, could be distinguished a magnificent group of cones, at least half a mile in height and glittering like piles of crystal. towards the north several breaches could be seen in the ramparts, due probably to a caving in of immense masses accumulated on the summit of the precipitous walls. as already observed, the surrounding plains were dotted with numberless craters mostly of small dimensions, except _gay lussac_ on the north, whose crater was about 12 miles in diameter. towards the southwest and the immediate east, the plain appeared to be very flat, no protuberance, no prominence of any kind lifting itself above the general dead level. towards the north, on the contrary, as far as where the peninsula jutted on _oceanus procellarum_, the plain looked like a sea of lava wildly lashed for a while by a furious hurricane and then, when its waves and breakers and driving ridges were at their wildest, suddenly frozen into solidity. over this rugged, rumpled, wrinkled surface and in all directions, ran the wonderful streaks whose radiating point appeared to be the summit of _copernicus_. many of them appeared to be ten miles wide and hundreds of miles in length. the travellers disputed for some time on the origin of these strange radii, but could hardly be said to have arrived at any conclusion more satisfactory than that already reached by some terrestrial observers. to m'nicholl's question: "why can't these streaks be simply prolonged mountain crests reflecting the sun's rays more vividly by their superior altitude and comparative smoothness?" barbican readily replied: "these streaks _can't_ be mountain crests, because, if they were, under certain conditions of solar illumination they should project _shadows_--a thing which they have never been known to do under any circumstances whatever. in fact, it is only during the period of the full moon that these streaks are seen at all; as soon as the sun's rays become oblique, they disappear altogether--a proof that their appearance is due altogether to peculiar advantages in their surface for the reflection of light." "dear boys, will you allow me to give my little guess on the subject?" asked ardan. his companions were profuse in expressing their desire to hear it. "well then," he resumed, "seeing that these bright streaks invariably start from a certain point to radiate in all directions, why not suppose them to be streams of lava issuing from the crater and flowing down the mountain side until they cooled?" "such a supposition or something like it has been put forth by herschel," replied barbican; "but your own sense will convince you that it is quite untenable when you consider that lava, however hot and liquid it may be at the commencement of its journey, cannot flow on for hundreds of miles, up hills, across ravines, and over plains, all the time in streams of almost exactly equal width." "that theory of yours holds no more water than mine, ardan," observed m'nicholl. "correct, captain," replied the frenchman; "barbican has a trick of knocking the bottom out of every weaker vessel. but let us hear what he has to say on the subject himself. what is your theory. barbican?" "my theory," said barbican, "is pretty much the same as that lately presented by an english astronomer, nasmyth, who has devoted much study and reflection to lunar matters. of course, i only formulate my theory, i don't affirm it. these streaks are cracks, made in the moon's surface by cooling or by shrinkage, through which volcanic matter has been forced up by internal pressure. the sinking ice of a frozen lake, when meeting with some sharp pointed rock, cracks in a radiating manner: every one of its fissures then admits the water, which immediately spreads laterally over the ice pretty much as the lava spreads itself over the lunar surface. this theory accounts for the radiating nature of the streaks, their great and nearly equal thickness, their immense length, their inability to cast a shadow, and their invisibility at any time except at or near the full moon. still it is nothing but a theory, and i don't deny that serious objections may be brought against it." "do you know, dear boys," cried ardan, led off as usual by the slightest fancy, "do you know what i am thinking of when i look down on the great rugged plains spread out beneath us?" "i can't say, i'm sure," replied barbican, somewhat piqued at the little attention he had secured for his theory. "well, what are you thinking of?" asked m'nicholl. "spillikins!" answered ardan triumphantly. "spillikins?" cried his companions, somewhat surprised. "yes, spillikins! these rocks, these blocks, these peaks, these streaks, these cones, these cracks, these ramparts, these escarpments,--what are they but a set of spillikins, though i acknowledge on a grand scale? i wish i had a little hook to pull them one by one!" [illustration: an immense battlefield.] "oh, do be serious, ardan!" cried barbican, a little impatiently. "certainly," replied ardan. "let us be serious, captain, since seriousness best befits the subject in hand. what do you think of another comparison? does not this plain look like an immense battle field piled with the bleaching bones of myriads who had slaughtered each other to a man at the bidding of some mighty caesar? what do you think of that lofty comparison, hey?" "it is quite on a par with the other," muttered barbican. "he's hard to please, captain," continued ardan, "but let us try him again! does not this plain look like--?" "my worthy friend," interrupted barbican, quietly, but in a tone to discourage further discussion, "what you think the plain _looks like_ is of very slight import, as long as you know no more than a child what it really _is_!" "bravo, barbican! well put!" cried the irrepressible frenchman. "shall i ever realize the absurdity of my entering into an argument with a scientist!" but this time the projectile, though advancing northward with a pretty uniform velocity, had neither gained nor lost in its nearness to the lunar disc. each moment altering the character of the fleeting landscape beneath them, the travellers, as may well be imagined, never thought of taking an instant's repose. at about half past one, looking to their right on the west, they saw the summits of another mountain; barbican, consulting his map, recognized _eratosthenes_. this was a ring mountain, about 33 miles in diameter, having, like _copernicus_, a crater of immense profundity containing central cones. whilst they were directing their glasses towards its gloomy depths, barbican mentioned to his friends kepler's strange idea regarding the formation of these ring mountains. "they must have been constructed," he said, "by mortal hands." "with what object?" asked the captain. "a very natural one," answered barbican. "the selenites must have undertaken the immense labor of digging these enormous pits at places of refuge in which they could protect themselves against the fierce solar rays that beat against them for 15 days in succession!" "not a bad idea, that of the selenites!" exclaimed ardan. "an absurd idea!" cried m'nicholl. "but probably kepler never knew the real dimensions of these craters. barbican knows the trouble and time required to dig a well in stony hill only nine hundred feet deep. to dig out a single lunar crater would take hundreds and hundreds of years, and even then they should be giants who would attempt it!" "why so?" asked ardan. "in the moon, where gravity is six times less than on the earth, the labor of the selenites can't be compared with that of men like us." "but suppose a selenite to be six times smaller than a man like us!" urged m'nicholl. "and suppose a selenite never had an existence at all!" interposed barbican with his usual success in putting an end to the argument. "but never mind the selenites now. observe _eratosthenes_ as long as you have the opportunity." "which will not be very long," said m'nicholl. "he is already sinking out of view too far to the right to be carefully observed." "what are those peaks beyond him?" asked ardan. "the _apennines_," answered barbican; "and those on the left are the _carpathians_." "i have seen very few mountain chains or ranges in the moon," remarked ardan, after some minutes' observation. "mountains chains are not numerous in the moon," replied barbican, "and in that respect her oreographic system presents a decided contrast with that of the earth. with us the ranges are many, the craters few; in the moon the ranges are few and the craters innumerable." barbican might have spoken of another curious feature regarding the mountain ranges: namely, that they are chiefly confined to the northern hemisphere, where the craters are fewest and the "seas" the most extensive. for the benefit of those interested, and to be done at once with this part of the subject, we give in the following little table a list of the chief lunar mountain chains, with their latitude, and respective heights in english feet. _name._ _degrees of latitude._ _height._ { _altai mountains_ 17° to 28 13,000ft. southern { _cordilleras_ 10 to 20 12,000 hemisphere. { _pyrenees_ 8 to 18 12,000 { _riphean_ 5 to 10 2,600 { _haemus_ 10 to 20 6,300 { _carpathian_ 15 to 19 6,000 { _apennines_ 14 to 27 18,000 northern { _taurus_ 25 to 34 8,500 hemisphere. { _hercynian_ 17 to 29 3,400 { _caucasus_ 33 to 40 17,000 { _alps_ 42 to 30 10,000 of these different chains, the most important is that of the _apennines_, about 450 miles long, a length, however, far inferior to that of many of the great mountain ranges of our globe. they skirt the western shores of the _mare imbrium_, over which they rise in immense cliffs, 18 or 20 thousand feet in height, steep as a wall and casting over the plain intensely black shadows at least 90 miles long. of mt. _huyghens_, the highest in the group, the travellers were just barely able to distinguish the sharp angular summit in the far west. to the east, however, the _carpathians_, extending from the 18th to 30th degrees of east longitude, lay directly under their eyes and could be examined in all the peculiarities of their distribution. barbican proposed a hypothesis regarding the formation of those mountains, which his companions thought at least as good as any other. looking carefully over the _carpathians_ and catching occasional glimpses of semi-circular formations and half domes, he concluded that the chain must have formerly been a succession of vast craters. then had come some mighty internal discharge, or rather the subsidence to which _mare imbrium_ is due, for it immediately broke off or swallowed up one half of those mountains, leaving the other half steep as a wall on one side and sloping gently on the other to the level of the surrounding plains. the _carpathians_ were therefore pretty nearly in the same condition as the crater mountains _ptolemy_, _alpetragius_ and _arzachel_ would find themselves in, if some terrible cataclysm, by tearing away their eastern ramparts, had turned them into a chain of mountains whose towering cliffs would nod threateningly over the western shores of _mare nubium_. the mean height of the _carpathians_ is about 6,000 feet, the altitude of certain points in the pyrenees such as the _port of pineda_, or _roland's breach_, in the shadow of _mont perdu_. the northern slopes of the _carpathians_ sink rapidly towards the shores of the vast _mare imbrium_. towards two o'clock in the morning, barbican calculated the projectile to be on the 20th northern parallel, and therefore almost immediately over the little ring mountain called _pytheas_, about 4600 feet in height. the distance of the travellers from the moon at this point could not be more than about 750 miles, reduced to about 7 by means of their excellent telescopes. _mare imbrium_, the sea of rains here revealed itself in all its vastness to the eyes of the travellers, though it must be acknowledged that the immense depression so called, did not afford them a very clear idea regarding its exact boundaries. right ahead of them rose _lambert_ about a mile in height; and further on, more to the left, in the direction of _oceanus procellarum_, _euler_ revealed itself by its glittering radiations. this mountain, of about the same height as _lambert_, had been the object of very interesting calculations on the part of schroeter of erfurt. this keen observer, desirous of inquiring into the probable origin of the lunar mountains, had proposed to himself the following question: does the volume of the crater appear to be equal to that of the surrounding ramparts? his calculations showing him that this was generally the case, he naturally concluded that these ramparts must therefore have been the product of a single eruption, for successive eruptions of volcanic matter would have disturbed this correlation. _euler_ alone, he found, to be an exception to this general law, as the volume of its crater appeared to be twice as great as that of the mass surrounding it. it must therefore have been formed by several eruptions in succession, but in that case what had become of the ejected matter? theories of this nature and all manner of scientific questions were, of course, perfectly permissible to terrestrial astronomers laboring under the disadvantage of imperfect instruments. but barbican could not think of wasting his time in any speculation of the kind, and now, seeing that his projectile perceptibly approached the lunar disc, though he despaired of ever reaching it, he was more sanguine than ever of being soon able to discover positively and unquestionably some of the secrets of its formation. [footnote c: we must again remind our readers that, in our map, though every thing is set down as it appears to the eye not as it is reversed by the telescope, still, for the reason made so clear by barbican, the right hand side must be the west and the left the east.] chapter xiii. lunar landscapes at half past two in the morning of december 6th, the travellers crossed the 30th northern parallel, at a distance from the lunar surface of 625 miles, reduced to about 6 by their spy-glasses. barbican could not yet see the least probability of their landing at any point of the disc. the velocity of the projectile was decidedly slow, but for that reason extremely puzzling. barbican could not account for it. at such a proximity to the moon, the velocity, one would think, should be very great indeed to be able to counteract the lunar attraction. why did it not fall? barbican could not tell; his companions were equally in the dark. ardan said he gave it up. besides they had no time to spend in investigating it. the lunar panorama was unrolling all its splendors beneath them, and they could not bear to lose one of its slightest details. the lunar disc being brought within a distance of about six miles by the spy-glasses, it is a fair question to ask, what _could_ an aeronaut at such an elevation from our earth discover on its surface? at present that question can hardly be answered, the most remarkable balloon ascensions never having passed an altitude of five miles under circumstances favorable for observers. here, however, is an account, carefully transcribed from notes taken on the spot, of what barbican and his companions _did_ see from their peculiar post of observation. varieties of color, in the first place, appeared here and there upon the disc. selenographers are not quite agreed as to the nature of these colors. not that such colors are without variety or too faint to be easily distinguished. schmidt of athens even says that if our oceans on earth were all evaporated, an observer in the moon would hardly find the seas and continents of our globe even so well outlined as those of the moon are to the eye of a terrestrial observer. according to him, the shade of color distinguishing those vast plains known as "seas" is a dark gray dashed with green and brown,--a color presented also by a few of the great craters. this opinion of schmidt's, shared by beer and maedler, barbican's observations now convinced him to be far better founded than that of certain astronomers who admit of no color at all being visible on the moon's surface but gray. in certain spots the greenish tint was quite decided, particularly in _mare serenitatis_ and _mare humorum,_ the very localities where schmidt had most noticed it. barbican also remarked that several large craters, of the class that had no interior cones, reflected a kind of bluish tinge, somewhat like that given forth by a freshly polished steel plate. these tints, he now saw enough to convince him, proceeded really from the lunar surface, and were not due, as certain astronomers asserted, either to the imperfections of the spy-glasses, or to the interference of the terrestrial atmosphere. his singular opportunity for correct observation allowed him to entertain no doubt whatever on the subject. hampered by no atmosphere, he was free from all liability to optical illusion. satisfied therefore as to the reality of these tints, he considered such knowledge a positive gain to science. but that greenish tint--to what was it due? to a dense tropical vegetation maintained by a low atmosphere, a mile or so in thickness? possibly. but this was another question that could not be answered at present. further on he could detect here and there traces of a decidedly ruddy tint. such a shade he knew had been already detected in the _palus somnii_, near _mare crisium_, and in the circular area of _lichtenberg_, near the _hercynian mountains_, on the eastern edge of the moon. to what cause was this tint to be attributed? to the actual color of the surface itself? or to that of the lava covering it here and there? or to the color resulting from the mixture of other colors seen at a distance too great to allow of their being distinguished separately? impossible to tell. barbican and his companions succeeded no better at a new problem that soon engaged their undivided attention. it deserves some detail. having passed _lambert_, being just over _timocharis_, all were attentively gazing at the magnificent crater of _archimedes_ with a diameter of 52 miles across and ramparts more than 5000 feet in height, when ardan startled his companions by suddenly exclaiming: "hello! cultivated fields as i am a living man!" "what do you mean by your cultivated fields?" asked m'nicholl sourly, wiping his glasses and shrugging his shoulders. "certainly cultivated fields!" replied ardan. "don't you see the furrows? they're certainly plain enough. they are white too from glistening in the sun, but they are quite different from the radiating streaks of _copernicus_. why, their sides are perfectly parallel!" "where are those furrows?" asked m'nicholl, putting his glasses to his eye and adjusting the focus. "you can see them in all directions," answered ardan; "but two are particularly visible: one running north from _archimedes_, the other south towards the _apennines_." m'nicholl's face, as he gazed, gradually assumed a grin which soon developed into a snicker, if not a positive laugh, as he observed to ardan: "your selenites must be brobdignagians, their oxen leviathans, and their ploughs bigger than marston's famous cannon, if these are furrows!" "how's that, barbican?" asked ardan doubtfully, but unwilling to submit to m'nicholl. "they're not furrows, dear friend," said barbican, "and can't be, either, simply on account of their immense size. they are what the german astronomers called _rillen_; the french, _rainures_, and the english, _grooves_, _canals_, _clefts_, _cracks_, _chasms_, or _fissures_." "you have a good stock of names for them anyhow," observed ardan, "if that does any good." "the number of names given them," answered barbican, "shows how little is really known about them. they have been observed in all the level portion of the moon's surface. small as they appear to us, a little calculation must convince you that they are in some places hundreds of miles in length, a mile in width and probably in many points several miles in depth. their width and depth, however, vary, though their sides, so far as observed, are always rigorously parallel. let us take a good look at them." putting the glass to his eye, barbican examined the clefts for some time with close attention. he saw that their banks were sharp edged and extremely steep. in many places they were of such geometrical regularity that he readily excused gruithuysen's idea of deeming them to be gigantic earthworks thrown up by the selenite engineers. some of them were as straight as if laid out with a line, others were curved a little here and there, though still maintaining the strict parallelism of their sides. these crossed each other; those entered craters and came out at the other side. here, they furrowed annular plateaus, such as _posidonius_ or _petavius_. there, they wrinkled whole seas, for instance, _mare serenitatis_. these curious peculiarities of the lunar surface had interested the astronomic mind to a very high degree at their first discovery, and have proved to be very perplexing problems ever since. the first observers do not seem to have noticed them. neither hevelius, nor cassini, nor la hire, nor herschel, makes a single remark regarding their nature. it was schroeter, in 1789, who called the attention of scientists to them for the first time. he had only 11 to show, but lohrmann soon recorded 75 more. pastorff, gruithuysen, and particularly beer and maedler were still more successful, but julius schmidt, the famous astronomer of athens, has raised their number up to 425, and has even published their names in a catalogue. but counting them is one thing, determining their nature is another. they are not fortifications, certainly: and cannot be ancient beds of dried up rivers, for two very good and sufficient reasons: first, water, even under the most favorable circumstances on the moon's surface, could have never ploughed up such vast channels; secondly, these chasms often traverse lofty craters through and through, like an immense railroad cutting. at these details, ardan's imagination became unusually excited and of course it was not without some result. it even happened that he hit on an idea that had already suggested itself to schmidt of athens. "why not consider them," he asked, "to be the simple phenomena of vegetation?" "what do you mean?" asked barbican. "rows of sugar cane?" suggested m'nicholl with a snicker. "not exactly, my worthy captain," answered ardan quietly, "though you were perhaps nearer to the mark than you expected. i don't mean exactly rows of sugar cane, but i do mean vast avenues of trees--poplars, for instance--planted regularly on each side of a great high road." "still harping on vegetation!" said the captain. "ardan, what a splendid historian was spoiled in you! the less you know about your facts, the readier you are to account for them." "_ma foi_," said ardan simply, "i do only what the greatest of your scientific men do--that is, guess. there is this difference however between us--i call my guesses, guesses, mere conjecture;--they dignify theirs as profound theories or as astounding discoveries!" "often the case, friend ardan, too often the case," said barbican. "in the question under consideration, however," continued the frenchman, "my conjecture has this advantage over some others: it explains why these rills appear and seem to disappear at regular intervals." "let us hear the explanation," said the captain. "they become invisible when the trees lose their leaves, and they reappear when they resume them." "his explanation is not without ingenuity," observed barbican to m'nicholl, "but, my dear friend," turning to ardan, "it is hardly admissible." "probably not," said ardan, "but why not?" "because as the sun is nearly always vertical to the lunar equator, the moon can have no change of seasons worth mentioning; therefore her vegetation can present none of the phenomena that you speak of." this was perfectly true. the slight obliquity of the moon's axis, only 1-1/2°, keeps the sun in the same altitude the whole year around. in the equatorial regions he is always vertical, and in the polar he is never higher than the horizon. therefore, there can be no change of seasons; according to the latitude, it is a perpetual winter, spring, summer, or autumn the whole year round. this state of things is almost precisely similar to that which prevails in jupiter, who also stands nearly upright in his orbit, the inclination of his axis being only about 3°. but how to account for the _grooves_? a very hard nut to crack. they must certainly be a later formation than the craters and the rings, for they are often found breaking right through the circular ramparts. probably the latest of all lunar features, the results of the last geological epochs, they are due altogether to expansion or shrinkage acting on a large scale and brought about by the great forces of nature, operating after a manner altogether unknown on our earth. such at least was barbican's idea. "my friends," he quietly observed, "without meaning to put forward any pretentious claims to originality, but by simply turning to account some advantages that have never before befallen contemplative mortal eye, why not construct a little hypothesis of our own regarding the nature of these grooves and the causes that gave them birth? look at that great chasm just below us, somewhat to the right. it is at least fifty or sixty miles long and runs along the base of the _apennines_ in a line almost perfectly straight. does not its parallelism with the mountain chain suggest a causative relation? see that other mighty _rill_, at least a hundred and fifty miles long, starting directly north of it and pursuing so true a course that it cleaves _archimedes_ almost cleanly into two. the nearer it lies to the mountain, as you perceive, the greater its width; as it recedes in either direction it grows narrower. does not everything point out to one great cause of their origin? they are simple crevasses, like those so often noticed on alpine glaciers, only that these tremendous cracks in the surface are produced by the shrinkage of the crust consequent on cooling. can we point out some analogies to this on the earth? certainly. the defile of the jordan, terminating in the awful depression of the dead sea, no doubt occurs to you on the moment. but the _yosemite valley_, as i saw it ten years ago, is an apter comparison. there i stood on the brink of a tremendous chasm with perpendicular walls, a mile in width, a mile in depth and eight miles in length. judge if i was astounded! but how should we feel it, when travelling on the lunar surface, we should suddenly find ourselves on the brink of a yawning chasm two miles wide, fifty miles long, and so fathomless in sheer vertical depth as to leave its black profundities absolutely invisible in spite of the dazzling sunlight!" "i feel my flesh already crawling even in the anticipation!" cried ardan. "i shan't regret it much if we never get to the moon," growled m'nicholl; "i never hankered after it anyhow!" by this time the projectile had reached the fortieth degree of lunar latitude, and could hardly be further than five hundred miles from the surface, a distance reduced to about 5 miles by the travellers' glasses. away to their left appeared _helicon_, a ring mountain about 1600 feet high; and still further to the left the eye could catch a glimpse of the cliffs enclosing a semi-elliptical portion of _mare imbrium_, called the _sinus iridium_, or bay of the rainbows. in order to allow astronomers to make complete observations on the lunar surface, the terrestrial atmosphere should possess a transparency seventy times greater than its present power of transmission. but in the void through which the projectile was now floating, no fluid whatever interposed between the eye of the observer and the object observed. besides, the travellers now found themselves at a distance that had never before been reached by the most powerful telescopes, including even lord rosse's and the great instrument on the rocky mountains. barbican was therefore in a condition singularly favorable to resolve the great question concerning the moon's inhabitableness. nevertheless, the solution still escaped him. he could discover nothing around him but a dreary waste of immense plains, and towards the north, beneath him, bare mountains of the aridest character. not the slightest vestige of man's work could be detected over the vast expanse. not the slightest sign of a ruin spoke of his ever having been there. nothing betrayed the slightest trace of the development of animal life, even in an inferior degree. no movement. not the least glimpse of vegetation. of the three great kingdoms that hold dominion on the surface of the globe, the mineral, the vegetable and the animal, one alone was represented on the lunar sphere: the mineral, the whole mineral, and nothing but the mineral. "why!" exclaimed ardan, with a disconcerted look, after a long and searching examination, "i can't find anybody. everything is as motionless as a street in pompeii at 4 o'clock in the morning!" [illustration: the solution still escaped him.] "good comparison, friend ardan;" observed m'nicholl. "lava, slag, volcanic eminences, vitreous matter glistening like ice, piles of scoria, pitch black shadows, dazzling streaks, like rivers of light breaking over jagged rocks--these are now beneath my eye--these alone i can detect--not a man--not an animal--not a tree. the great american desert is a land of milk and honey in comparison with the joyless orb over which we are now moving. however, even yet we can predicate nothing positive. the atmosphere may have taken refuge in the depths of the chasms, in the interior of the craters, or even on the opposite side of the moon, for all we know!" "still we must remember," observed barbican, "that even the sharpest eye cannot detect a man at a distance greater than four miles and a-half, and our glasses have not yet brought us nearer than five." "which means to say," observed ardan, "that though we can't see the selenites, they can see our projectile!" but matters had not improved much when, towards four o'clock in the morning, the travellers found themselves on the 50th parallel, and at a distance of only about 375 miles from the lunar surface. still no trace of the least movement, or even of the lowest form of life. "what peaked mountain is that which we have just passed on our right?" asked ardan. "it is quite remarkable, standing as it does in almost solitary grandeur in the barren plain." "that is _pico_," answered barbican. "it is at least 8000 feet high and is well known to terrestrial astronomers as well by its peculiar shadow as on account of its comparative isolation. see the collection of perfectly formed little craters nestling around its base." "barbican," asked m'nicholl suddenly, "what peak is that which lies almost directly south of _pico_? i see it plainly, but i can't find it on my map." "i have remarked that pyramidal peak myself," replied barbican; "but i can assure you that so far it has received no name as yet, although it is likely enough to have been distinguished by the terrestrial astronomers. it can't be less than 4000 feet in height." "i propose we called it _barbican_!" cried ardan enthusiastically. "agreed!" answered m'nicholl, "unless we can find a higher one." "we must be before-hand with schmidt of athens!" exclaimed ardan. "he will leave nothing unnamed that his telescope can catch a glimpse of." "passed unanimously!" cried m'nicholl. "and officially recorded!" added the frenchman, making the proper entry on his map. "_salve, mt. barbican!_" then cried both gentlemen, rising and taking off their hats respectfully to the distant peak. "look to the west!" interrupted barbican, watching, as usual, while his companions were talking, and probably perfectly unconscious of what they were saying; "directly to the west! now tell me what you see!" "i see a vast valley!" answered m'nicholl. "straight as an arrow!" added ardan. "running through lofty mountains!" cried m'nicholl. "cut through with a pair of saws and scooped out with a chisel!" cried ardan. "see the shadows of those peaks!" cried m'nicholl catching fire at the sight. "black, long, and sharp as if cast by cathedral spires!" "oh! ye crags and peaks!" burst forth ardan; "how i should like to catch even a faint echo of the chorus you could chant, if a wild storm roared over your beetling summits! the pine forests of norwegian mountains howling in midwinter would not be an accordeon in comparison!" "wonderful instance of subsidence on a grand scale!" exclaimed the captain, hastily relapsing into science. "not at all!" cried the frenchman, still true to his colors; "no subsidence there! a comet simply came too close and left its mark as it flew past." "fanciful exclamations, dear friends," observed barbican; "but i'm not surprised at your excitement. yonder is the famous _valley of the alps_, a standing enigma to all selenographers. how it could have been formed, no one can tell. even wilder guesses than yours, ardan, have been hazarded on the subject. all we can state positively at present regarding this wonderful formation, is what i have just recorded in my note-book: the _valley of the alps_ is about 5 mile wide and 70 or 80 long: it is remarkably flat and free from _debris_, though the mountains on each side rise like walls to the height of at least 10,000 feet.--over the whole surface of our earth i know of no natural phenomenon that can be at all compared with it." "another wonder almost in front of us!" cried ardan. "i see a vast lake black as pitch and round as a crater; it is surrounded by such lofty mountains that their shadows reach clear across, rendering the interior quite invisible!" "that's _plato_;" said m'nicholl; "i know it well; it's the darkest spot on the moon: many a night i gazed at it from my little observatory in broad street, philadelphia." "right, captain," said barbican; "the crater _plato_, is, indeed, generally considered the blackest spot on the moon, but i am inclined to consider the spots _grimaldi_ and _riccioli_ on the extreme eastern edge to be somewhat darker. if you take my glass, ardan, which is of somewhat greater power than yours, you will distinctly see the bottom of the crater. the reflective power of its plateau probably proceeds from the exceedingly great number of small craters that you can detect there." "i think i see something like them now," said ardan. "but i am sorry the projectile's course will not give us a vertical view." "can't be helped!" said barbican; "we must go where it takes us. the day may come when man can steer the projectile or the balloon in which he is shut up, in any way he pleases, but that day has not come yet!" towards five in the morning, the northern limit of _mare imbrium_ was finally passed, and _mare frigoris_ spread its frost-colored plains far to the right and left. on the east the travellers could easily see the ring-mountain _condamine_, about 4000 feet high, while a little ahead on the right they could plainly distinguish _fontenelle_ with an altitude nearly twice as great. _mare frigoris_ was soon passed, and the whole lunar surface beneath the travellers, as far as they could see in all directions, now bristled with mountains, crags, and peaks. indeed, at the 70th parallel the "seas" or plains seem to have come to an end. the spy-glasses now brought the surface to within about three miles, a distance less than that between the hotel at chamouni and the summit of mont blanc. to the left, they had no difficulty in distinguishing the ramparts of _philolaus_, about 12,000 feet high, but though the crater had a diameter of nearly thirty miles, the black shadows prevented the slightest sign of its interior from being seen. the sun was now sinking very low, and the illuminated surface of the moon was reduced to a narrow rim. by this time, too, the bird's eye view to which the observations had so far principally confined, decidedly altered its character. they could now look back at the lunar mountains that they had been just sailing over--a view somewhat like that enjoyed by a tourist standing on the summit of mt. st. gothard as he sees the sun setting behind the peaks of the bernese oberland. the lunar landscapes however, though seen under these new and ever varying conditions, "hardly gained much by the change," according to ardan's expression. on the contrary, they looked, if possible, more dreary and inhospitable than before. the moon having no atmosphere, the benefit of this gaseous envelope in softening off and nicely shading the approaches of light and darkness, heat and cold, is never felt on her surface. there, no twilight ever softly ushers in the brilliant sun, or sweetly heralds the near approach of night's dark shadow. night follows day, and day night, with the startling suddenness of a match struck or a lamp extinguished in a cavern. nor can it present any gradual transition from either extreme of temperature. hot jumps to cold, and cold jumps to hot. a moment after a glacial midnight, it is a roasting noon. without an instant's warning the temperature falls from 212° fahrenheit to the icy winter of interstellar space. the surface is all dazzling glare, or pitchy gloom. wherever the direct rays of the sun do not fall, darkness reigns supreme. what we call diffused light on earth, the grateful result of refraction, the luminous matter held in suspension by the air, the mother of our dawns and our dusks, of our blushing mornings and our dewy eyes, of our shades, our penumbras, our tints and all the other magical effects of _chiaro-oscuro_--this diffused light has absolutely no existence on the surface of the moon. nothing is there to break the inexorable contrast between intense white and intense black. at mid-day, let a selenite shade his eyes and look at the sky: it will appear to him as black as pitch, while the stars still sparkle before him as vividly as they do to us on the coldest and darkest night in winter. from this you can judge of the impression made on our travellers by those strange lunar landscapes. even their decided novelty and very strange character produced any thing but a pleasing effect on the organs of sight. with all their enthusiasm, the travellers felt their eyes "get out of gear," as ardan said, like those of a man blind from his birth and suddenly restored to sight. they could not adjust them so as to be able to realize the different plains of vision. all things seemed in a heap. foreground and background were indistinguishably commingled. no painter could ever transfer a lunar landscape to his canvas. "landscape," ardan said; "what do you mean by a landscape? can you call a bottle of ink intensely black, spilled over a sheet of paper intensely white, a landscape?" at the eightieth degree, when the projectile was hardly 100 miles distant from the moon, the aspect of things underwent no improvement. on the contrary, the nearer the travellers approached the lunar surface, the drearier, the more inhospitable, and the more _unearthly_, everything seem to look. still when five o'clock in the morning brought our travellers to within 50 miles of _mount gioja_--which their spy-glasses rendered as visible as if it was only about half a mile off, ardan could not control himself. "why, we're there" he exclaimed; "we can touch her with our hands! open the windows and let me out! don't mind letting me go by myself. it is not very inviting quarters i admit. but as we are come to the jumping off place, i want to see the whole thing through. open the lower window and let me out. i can take care of myself!" "that's what's more than any other man can do," said m'nicholl drily, "who wants to take a jump of 50 miles!" "better not try it, friend ardan," said barbican grimly: "think of satellite! the moon is no more attainable by your body than by our projectile. you are far more comfortable in here than when floating about in empty space like a bolide." ardan, unwilling to quarrel with his companions, appeared to give in; but he secretly consoled himself by a hope which he had been entertaining for some time, and which now looked like assuming the appearance of a certainty. the projectile had been lately approaching the moon's surface so rapidly that it at last seemed actually impossible not to finally touch it somewhere in the neighborhood of the north pole, whose dazzling ridges now presented themselves in sharp and strong relief against the black sky. therefore he kept silent, but quietly bided his time. the projectile moved on, evidently getting nearer and nearer to the lunar surface. the moon now appeared to the travellers as she does to us towards the beginning of her second quarter, that is as a bright crescent instead of a hemisphere. on one side, glaring dazzling light; on the other, cavernous pitchy darkness. the line separating both was broken into a thousand bits of protuberances and concavities, dented, notched, and jagged. at six o'clock the travellers found themselves exactly over the north pole. they were quietly gazing at the rapidly shifting features of the wondrous view unrolling itself beneath them, and were silently wondering what was to come next, when, suddenly, the projectile passed the dividing line. the sun and moon instantly vanished from view. the next moment, without the slightest warning the travellers found themselves plunged in an ocean of the most appalling darkness! chapter xiv. a night of fifteen days. the projectile being not quite 30 miles from the moon's north pole when the startling phenomenon, recorded in our last chapter, took place, a few seconds were quite sufficient to launch it at once from the brightest day into the unknown realms of night. the transition was so abrupt, so unexpected, without the slightest shading off, from dazzling effulgence to cimmerian gloom, that the moon seemed to have been suddenly extinguished like a lamp when the gas is turned off. "where's the moon?" cried ardan in amazement. "it appears as if she had been wiped out of creation!" cried m'nicholl. barbican said nothing, but observed carefully. not a particle, however, could he see of the disc that had glittered so resplendently before his eyes a few moments ago. not a shadow, not a gleam, not the slightest vestige could he trace of its existence. the darkness being profound, the dazzling splendor of the stars only gave a deeper blackness to the pitchy sky. no wonder. the travellers found themselves now in a night that had plenty of time not only to become black itself, but to steep everything connected with it in palpable blackness. this was the night 354-1/4 hours long, during which the invisible face of the moon is turned away from the sun. in this black darkness the projectile now fully participated. having plunged into the moon's shadow, it was as effectually cut off from the action of the solar rays as was every point on the invisible lunar surface itself. the travellers being no longer able to see each other, it was proposed to light the gas, though such an unexpected demand on a commodity at once so scarce and so valuable was certainly disquieting. the gas, it will be remembered, had been intended for heating alone, not illumination, of which both sun and moon had promised a never ending supply. but here both sun and moon, in a single instant vanished from before their eyes and left them in stygian darkness. "it's all the sun's fault!" cried ardan, angrily trying to throw the blame on something, and, like every angry man in such circumstances, bound to be rather nonsensical. "put the saddle on the right horse, ardan," said m'nicholl patronizingly, always delighted at an opportunity of counting a point off the frenchman. "you mean it's all the moon's fault, don't you, in setting herself like a screen between us and the sun?" "no, i don't!" cried ardan, not at all soothed by his friend's patronizing tone, and sticking like a man to his first assertion right or wrong. "i know what i say! it will be all the sun's fault if we use up our gas!" "nonsense!" said m'nicholl. "it's the moon, who by her interposition has cut off the sun's light." "the sun had no business to allow it to be cut off," said ardan, still angry and therefore decidedly loose in his assertions. before m'nicholl could reply, barbican interposed, and his even voice was soon heard pouring balm on the troubled waters. "dear friends," he observed, "a little reflection on either side would convince you that our present situation is neither the moon's fault nor the sun's fault. if anything is to be blamed for it, it is our projectile which, instead of rigidly following its allotted course, has awkwardly contrived to deviate from it. however, strict justice must acquit even the projectile. it only obeyed a great law of nature in shifting its course as soon as it came within the sphere of that inopportune bolide's influence." "all right!" said ardan, as usual in the best of humor after barbican had laid down the law. "i have no doubt it is exactly as you say; and, now that all is settled, suppose we take breakfast. after such a hard night spent in work, a little refreshment would not be out of place!" such a proposition being too reasonable even for m'nicholl to oppose, ardan turned on the gas, and had everything ready for the meal in a few minutes. but, this time, breakfast was consumed in absolute silence. no toasts were offered, no hurrahs were uttered. a painful uneasiness had seized the hearts of the daring travellers. the darkness into which they were so suddenly plunged, told decidedly on their spirits. they felt almost as if they had been suddenly deprived of their sight. that thick, dismal savage blackness, which victor hugo's pen is so fond of occasionally revelling in, surrounded them on all sides and crushed them like an iron shroud. it was felt worse than ever when, breakfast being over, ardan carefully turned off the gas, and everything within the projectile was as dark as without. however, though they could not see each other's faces, they could hear each other's voices, and therefore they soon began to talk. the most natural subject of conversation was this terrible night 354 hours long, which the laws of nature have imposed on the lunar inhabitants. barbican undertook to give his friends some explanation regarding the cause of the startling phenomenon, and the consequences resulting from it. "yes, startling is the word for it," observed barbican, replying to a remark of ardan's; "and still more so when we reflect that not only are both lunar hemispheres deprived, by turns, of sun light for nearly 15 days, but that also the particular hemisphere over which we are at this moment floating is all that long night completely deprived of earth-light. in other words, it is only one side of the moon's disc that ever receives any light from the earth. from nearly every portion of one side of the moon, the earth is always as completely absent as the sun is from us at midnight. suppose an analogous case existed on the earth; suppose, for instance, that neither in europe, asia or north america was the moon ever visible--that, in fact, it was to be seen only at our antipodes. with what astonishment should we contemplate her for the first time on our arrival in australia or new zealand!" "every man of us would pack off to australia to see her!" cried ardan. "yes," said m'nicholl sententiously; "for a visit to the south sea a turk would willingly forego mecca; and a bostonian would prefer sidney even to paris." "well," resumed barbican, "this interesting marvel is reserved for the selenite that inhabits the side of the moon which is always turned away from our globe." "and which," added the captain, "we should have had the unspeakable satisfaction of contemplating if we had only arrived at the period when the sun and the earth are not at the same side of the moon--that is, 15 days sooner or later than now." "for my part, however," continued barbican, not heeding these interruptions, "i must confess that, notwithstanding the magnificent splendor of the spectacle when viewed for the first time by the selenite who inhabits the dark side of the moon, i should prefer to be a resident on the illuminated side. the former, when his long, blazing, roasting, dazzling day is over, has a night 354 hours long, whose darkness, like that, just now surrounding us, is ever unrelieved save by the cold cheerless rays of the stars. but the latter has hardly seen his fiery sun sinking on one horizon when he beholds rising on the opposite one an orb, milder, paler, and colder indeed than the sun, but fully as large as thirteen of our full moons, and therefore shedding thirteen times as much light. this would be our earth. it would pass through all its phases too, exactly like our satellite. the selenites would have their new earth, full earth, and last quarter. at midnight, grandly illuminated, it would shine with the greatest glory. but that is almost as much as can be said for it. its futile heat would but poorly compensate for its superior radiance. all the calorie accumulated in the lunar soil during the 354 hours day would have by this time radiated completely into space. an intensity of cold would prevail, in comparison to which a greenland winter is tropical. the temperature of interstellar space, 250° below zero, would be reached. our selenite, heartily tired of the cold pale earth, would gladly see her sink towards the horizon, waning as she sank, till at last she appeared no more than half full. then suddenly a faint rim of the solar orb reveals itself on the edge of the opposite sky. slowly, more than 14 times more slowly than with us, does the sun lift himself above the lunar horizon. in half an hour, only half his disc is revealed, but that is more than enough to flood the lunar landscape with a dazzling intensity of light, of which we have no counterpart on earth. no atmosphere refracts it, no hazy screen softens it, no enveloping vapor absorbs it, no obstructing medium colors it. it breaks on the eye, harsh, white, dazzling, blinding, like the electric light seen a few yards off. as the hours wear away, the more blasting becomes the glare; and the higher he rises in the black sky, but slowly, slowly. it takes him seven of our days to reach the meridian. by that time the heat has increased from an arctic temperature to double the boiling water point, from 250° below zero to 500° above it, or the point at which tin melts. subjected to these extremes, the glassy rocks crack, shiver and crumble away; enormous land slides occur; peaks topple over; and tons of debris, crashing down the mountains, are swallowed up forever in the yawing chasms of the bottomless craters." "bravo!" cried ardan, clapping his hands softly: "our president is sublime! he reminds me of the overture of _guillaume tell_!" "souvenir de marston!" growled m'nicholl. "these phenomena," continued barbican, heedless of interruption and his voice betraying a slight glow of excitement, "these phenomena going on without interruption from month to month, from year to year, from age to age, from _eon_ to _eon_, have finally convinced me that--what?" he asked his hearers, interrupting himself suddenly. --"that the existence at the present time--" answered m'nicholl. --"of either animal or vegetable life--" interrupted ardan. --"in the moon is hardly possible!" cried both in one voice. "besides?" asked barbican: "even if there _is_ any life--?" --"that to live on the dark side would be much more inconvenient than on the light side!" cried m'nicholl promptly. --"that there is no choice between them!" cried ardan just as ready. "for my part, i should think a residence on mt. erebus or in grinnell land a terrestrial paradise in comparison to either. the _earth shine_ might illuminate the light side of the moon a little during the long night, but for any practical advantage towards heat or life, it would be perfectly useless!" "but there is another serious difference between the two sides," said barbican, "in addition to those enumerated. the dark side is actually more troubled with excessive variations of temperature than the light one." "that assertion of our worthy president," interrupted ardan, "with all possible respect for his superior knowledge, i am disposed to question." "it's as clear as day!" said barbican. "as clear as mud, you mean, mr. president;" interrupted ardan, "the temperature of the light side is excited by two objects at the same time, the earth and the sun, whereas--" --"i beg your pardon, ardan--" said barbican. --"granted, dear boy--granted with the utmost pleasure!" interrupted the frenchman. "i shall probably have to direct my observations altogether to you, captain," continued barbican; "friend michael interrupts me so often that i'm afraid he can hardly understand my remarks." "i always admired your candor, barbican," said ardan; "it's a noble quality, a grand quality!" "don't mention it," replied barbican, turning towards m'nicholl, still in the dark, and addressing him exclusively; "you see, my dear captain, the period at which the moon's invisible side receives at once its light and heat is exactly the period of her _conjunction_, that is to say, when she is lying between the earth and the sun. in comparison therefore with the place which she had occupied at her _opposition_, or when her visible side was fully illuminated, she is nearer to the sun by double her distance from the earth, or nearly 480 thousand miles. therefore, my dear captain, you can see how when the invisible side of the moon is turned towards the sun, she is nearly half a million of miles nearer to him than she had been before. therefore, her heat should be so much the greater." "i see it at a glance," said the captain. "whereas--" continued barbican. "one moment!" cried ardan. "another interruption!" exclaimed barbican; "what is the meaning of it, sir?" "i ask my honorable friend the privilege of the floor for one moment," cried ardan. "what for?" "to continue the explanation." "why so?" "to show that i can understand as well as interrupt!" "you have the floor!" exclaimed barbican, in a voice no longer showing any traces of ill humor. "i expected no less from the honorable gentleman's well known courtesy," replied ardan. then changing his manner and imitating to the life barbican's voice, articulation, and gestures, he continued: "whereas, you see, my dear captain, the period at which the moon's visible side receives at once its light and heat, is exactly the period of her _opposition_, that is to say, when she is lying on one side of the earth and the sun at the other. in comparison therefore with the point which she had occupied in _conjunction_, or when her invisible side was fully illuminated, she is farther from the sun by double her distance from the earth, or nearly 480,000 miles. therefore, my dear captain, you can readily see how when the moon's invisible side is turned _from_ the sun, she is nearly half a million miles further from him than she had been before. therefore her heat should be so much the less." "well done, friend ardan!" cried barbican, clapping his hands with pleasure. "yes, captain, he understood it as well as either of us the whole time. intelligence, not indifference, caused him to interrupt. wonderful fellow!" "that's the kind of a man i am!" replied ardan, not without some degree of complacency. then he added simply: "barbican, my friend, if i understand your explanations so readily, attribute it all to their astonishing lucidity. if i have any faculity, it is that of being able to scent common sense at the first glimmer. your sentences are so steeped in it that i catch their full meaning long before you end them--hence my apparent inattention. but we're not yet done with the visible face of the moon: it seems to me you have not yet enumerated all the advantages in which it surpasses the other side." "another of these advantages," continued barbican, "is that it is from the visible side alone that eclipses of the sun can be seen. this is self-evident, the interposition of the earth being possible only between this visible face and the sun. furthermore, such eclipses of the sun would be of a far more imposing character than anything of the kind to be witnessed from our earth. this is chiefly for two reasons: first, when we, terrestrians, see the sun eclipsed, we notice that, the discs of the two orbs being of about the same apparent size, one cannot hide the other except for a short time; second, as the two bodies are moving in opposite directions, the total duration of the eclipse, even under the most favorable circumstances, can't last longer than 7 minutes. whereas to a selenite who sees the earth eclipse the sun, not only does the earth's disc appear four times larger than the sun's, but also, as his day is 14 times longer than ours, the two heavenly bodies must remain several hours in contact. besides, notwithstanding the apparent superiority of the earth's disc, the refracting power of the atmosphere will never allow the sun to be eclipsed altogether. even when completely screened by the earth, he would form a beautiful circle around her of yellow, red, and crimson light, in which she would appear to float like a vast sphere of jet in a glowing sea of gold, rubies, sparkling carbuncles and garnets." "it seems to me," said m'nicholl, "that, taking everything into consideration, the invisible side has been rather shabbily treated." "i know i should not stay there very long," said ardan; "the desire of seeing such a splendid sight as that eclipse would be enough to bring me to the visible side as soon as possible." "yes, i have no doubt of that, friend michael," pursued barbican; "but to see the eclipse it would not be necessary to quit the dark hemisphere altogether. you are, of course, aware that in consequence of her librations, or noddings, or wobblings, the moon presents to the eyes of the earth a little more than the exact half of her disc. she has two motions, one on her path around the earth, and the other a shifting around on her own axis by which she endeavors to keep the same side always turned towards our sphere. this she cannot always do, as while one motion, the latter, is strictly uniform, the other being eccentric, sometimes accelerating her and sometimes retarding, she has not time to shift herself around completely and with perfect correspondence of movement. at her perigee, for instance, she moves forward quicker than she can shift, so that we detect a portion of her western border before she has time to conceal it. similarly, at her apogee, when her rate of motion is comparatively slow, she shifts a little too quickly for her velocity, and therefore cannot help revealing a certain portion of her eastern border. she shows altogether about 8 degrees of the dark side, about 4 at the east and 4 at the west, so that, out of her 360 degrees, about 188, in other words, a little more than 57 per cent., about 4/7 of the entire surface, becomes visible to human eyes. consequently a selenite could catch an occasional glimpse of our earth, without altogether quitting the dark side." "no matter for that!" cried ardan; "if we ever become selenites we must inhabit the visible side. my weak point is light, and that i must have when it can be got." "unless, as perhaps in this case, you might be paying too dear for it," observed m'nicholl. "how would you like to pay for your light by the loss of the atmosphere, which, according to some philosophers, is piled away on the dark side?" "ah! in that case i should consider a little before committing myself," replied ardan, "i should like to hear your opinion regarding such a notion, barbican. hey! do your hear? have astronomers any valid reasons for supposing the atmosphere to have fled to the dark side of the moon?" "defer that question till some other time, ardan," whispered m'nicholl; "barbican is just now thinking out something that interests him far more deeply than any empty speculation of astronomers. if you are near the window, look out through it towards the moon. can you see anything?" "i can feel the window with my hand; but for all i can see, i might as well be over head and ears in a hogshead of ink." the two friends kept up a desultory conversation, but barbican did not hear them. one fact, in particular, troubled him, and he sought in vain to account for it. having come so near the moon--about 30 miles--why had not the projectile gone all the way? had its velocity been very great, the tendency to fall could certainly be counteracted. but the velocity being undeniably very moderate, how explain such a decided resistance to lunar attraction? had the projectile come within the sphere of some strange unknown influence? did the neighborhood of some mysterious body retain it firmly imbedded in ether? that it would never reach the moon, was now beyond all doubt; but where was it going? nearer to her or further off? or was it rushing resistlessly into infinity on the wings of that pitchy night? who could tell, know, calculate--who could even guess, amid the horror of this gloomy blackness? questions, like these, left barbican no rest; in vain he tried to grapple with them; he felt like a child before them, baffled and almost despairing. in fact, what could be more tantalizing? just outside their windows, only a few leagues off, perhaps only a few miles, lay the radiant planet of the night, but in every respect as far off from the eyes of himself and his companions as if she was hiding at the other side of jupiter! and to their ears she was no nearer. earthquakes of the old titanic type might at that very moment be upheaving her surface with resistless force, crashing mountain against mountain as fiercely as wave meets wave around the storm-lashed cliffs of cape horn. but not the faintest far off murmur even of such a mighty tumult could break the dead brooding silence that surrounded the travellers. nay, the moon, realizing the weird fancy of the arabian poet, who calls her a "giant stiffening into granite, but struggling madly against his doom," might shriek, in a spasm of agony, loudly enough to be heard in sirius. but our travellers could not hear it. their ears no sound could now reach. they could no more detect the rending of a continent than the falling of a feather. air, the propagator and transmitter of sound, was absent from her surface. her cries, her struggles, her groans, were all smothered beneath the impenetrable tomb of eternal silence! these were some of the fanciful ideas by which ardan tried to amuse his companions in the present unsatisfactory state of affairs. his efforts, however well meant, were not successful. m'nicholl's growls were more savage than usual, and even barbican's patience was decidedly giving way. the loss of the other face they could have easily borne--with most of its details they had been already familiar. but, no, it must be the dark face that now escaped their observation! the very one that for numberless reasons they were actually dying to see! they looked out of the windows once more at the black moon beneath them. there it lay below them, a round black spot, hiding the sweet faces of the stars, but otherwise no more distinguishable by the travellers than if they were lying in the depths of the mammoth cave of kentucky. and just think. only fifteen days before, that dark face had been splendidly illuminated by the solar beams, every crater lustrous, every peak sparkling, every streak glistening under the vertical ray. in fifteen days later, a day light the most brilliant would have replaced a midnight the most cimmerian. but in fifteen days later, where would the projectile be? in what direction would it have been drawn by the forces innumerable of attractions incalculable? to such a question as this, even ardan would reply only by an ominous shake of the head. we know already that our travellers, as well as astronomers generally, judging from that portion of the dark side occasionally revealed by the moon's librations, were _pretty certain_ that there is no great difference between her two sides, as far as regards their physical constitutions. this portion, about the seventh part, shows plains and mountains, circles and craters, all of precisely the same nature as those already laid down on the chart. judging therefore from analogy, the other three-sevenths are, in all probability a world in every respect exactly like the visible face--that is, arid, desert, dead. but our travellers also knew that _pretty certain_ is far from _quite certain_, and that arguing merely from analogy may enable you to give a good guess, but can never lead you to an undoubted conclusion. what if the atmosphere had really withdrawn to this dark face? and if air, why not water? would not this be enough to infuse life into the whole continent? why should not vegetation flourish on its plains, fish in its seas, animals in its forests, and man in every one of its zones that were capable of sustaining life? to these interesting questions, what a satisfaction it would be to be able to answer positively one way or another! for thousands of difficult problems a mere glimpse at this hemisphere would be enough to furnish a satisfactory reply. how glorious it would be to contemplate a realm on which the eye of man has never yet rested! great, therefore, as you may readily conceive, was the depression of our travellers' spirits, as they pursued their way, enveloped in a veil of darkness the most profound. still even then ardan, as usual, formed somewhat of an exception. finding it impossible to see a particle of the lunar surface, he gave it up for good, and tried to console himself by gazing at the stars, which now fairly blazed in the spangled heavens. and certainly never before had astronomer enjoyed an opportunity for gazing at the heavenly bodies under such peculiar advantages. how fraye of paris, chacornac of lyons, and father secchi of rome would have envied him! for, candidly and truly speaking, never before had mortal eye revelled on such a scene of starry splendor. the black sky sparkled with lustrous fires, like the ceiling of a vast hall of ebony encrusted with flashing diamonds. ardan's eye could take in the whole extent in an easy sweep from the _southern cross_ to the _little bear_, thus embracing within one glance not only the two polar stars of the present day, but also _campus_ and _vega_, which, by reason of the _precession of the equinoxes_, are to be our polar stars 12,000 years hence. his imagination, as if intoxicated, reeled wildly through these sublime infinitudes and got lost in them. he forgot all about himself and all about his companions. he forgot even the strangeness of the fate that had sent them wandering through these forbidden regions, like a bewildered comet that had lost its way. with what a soft sweet light every star glowed! no matter what its magnitude, the stream that flowed from it looked calm and holy. no twinkling, no scintillation, no nictitation, disturbed their pure and lambent gleam. no atmosphere here interposed its layers of humidity or of unequal density to interrupt the stately majesty of their effulgence. the longer he gazed upon them, the more absorbing became their attraction. he felt that they were great kindly eyes looking down even yet with benevolence and protection on himself and his companions now driving wildly through space, and lost in the pathless depths of the black ocean of infinity! he soon became aware that his friends, following his example, had interested themselves in gazing at the stars, and were now just as absorbed as himself in the contemplation of the transcendent spectacle. for a long time all three continued to feast their eyes on all the glories of the starry firmament; but, strange to say, the part that seemed to possess the strangest and weirdest fascination for their wandering glances was the spot where the vast disc of the moon showed like an enormous round hole, black and soundless, and apparently deep enough to permit a glance into the darkest mysteries of the infinite. a disagreeable sensation, however, against which they had been for some time struggling, at last put an end to their contemplations, and compelled them to think of themselves. this was nothing less than a pretty sharp cold, at first somewhat endurable, but which soon covered the inside surface of the window panes with a thick coating of ice. the fact was that, the sun's direct rays having no longer an opportunity of warming up the projectile, the latter began to lose rapidly by radiation whatever heat it had stored away within its walls. the consequence was a very decided falling of the thermometer, and so thick a condensation of the internal moisture on the window glasses as to soon render all external observations extremely difficult, if not actually impossible. the captain, as the oldest man in the party, claimed the privilege of saying he could stand it no longer. striking a light, he consulted the thermometer and cried out: "seventeen degrees below zero, centigrade! that is certainly low enough to make an old fellow like me feel rather chilly!" "just one degree and a half above zero, fahrenheit!" observed barbican; "i really had no idea that it was so cold." his teeth actually chattered so much that he could hardly articulate; still he, as well as the others, disliked to entrench on their short supply of gas. "one feature of our journey that i particularly admire," said ardan, trying to laugh with freezing lips, "is that we can't complain of monotony. at one time we are frying with the heat and blinded with the light, like indians caught on a burning prairie; at another, we are freezing in the pitchy darkness of a hyperborean winter, like sir john franklin's merry men in the bay of boothia. _madame la nature_, you don't forget your devotees; on the contrary, you overwhelm us with your attentions!" "our external temperature may be reckoned at how much?" asked the captain, making a desperate effort to keep up the conversation. "the temperature outside our projectile must be precisely the same as that of interstellar space in general," answered barbican. "is not this precisely the moment then," interposed ardan, quickly, "for making an experiment which we could never have made as long as we were in the sunshine?" "that's so!" exclaimed barbican; "now or never! i'm glad you thought of it, ardan. we are just now in the position to find out the temperature of space by actual experiment, and so see whose calculations are right, fourier's or pouillet's." "let's see," asked ardan, "who was fourier, and who was pouillet?" "baron fourier, of the french academy, wrote a famous treatise on _heat_, which i remember reading twenty years ago in penington's book store," promptly responded the captain; "pouillet was an eminent professor of physics at the sorbonne, where he died, last year, i think." "thank you, captain," said ardan; "the cold does not injure your memory, though it is decidedly on the advance. see how thick the ice is already on the window panes! let it only keep on and we shall soon have our breaths falling around us in flakes of snow." "let us prepare a thermometer," said barbican, who had already set himself to work in a business-like manner. a thermometer of the usual kind, as may be readily supposed, would be of no use whatever in the experiment that was now about to be made. in an ordinary thermometer mercury freezes hard when exposed to a temperature of 40° below zero. but barbican had provided himself with a _minimum_, _self-recording_ thermometer, of a peculiar nature, invented by wolferdin, a friend of arago's, which could correctly register exceedingly low degrees of temperature. before beginning the experiment, this instrument was tested by comparison with one of the usual kind, and then barbican hesitated a few moments regarding the best means of employing it. "how shall we start this experiment?" asked the captain. "nothing simpler," answered ardan, always ready to reply; "you just open your windows, and fling out your thermometer. it follows your projectile, as a calf follows her mother. in a quarter of an hour you put out your hand--" "put out your hand!" interrupted barbican. "put out your hand--" continued ardan, quietly. "you do nothing of the kind," again interrupted barbican; "that is, unless you prefer, instead of a hand, to pull back a frozen stump, shapeless, colorless and lifeless!" "i prefer a hand," said ardan, surprised and interested. "yes," continued barbican, "the instant your hand left the projectile, it would experience the same terrible sensations as is produced by cauterizing it with an iron bar white hot. for heat, whether rushing rapidly out of our bodies or rapidly entering them, is identically the same force and does the same amount of damage. besides i am by no means certain that we are still followed by the objects that we flung out of the projectile." "why not?" asked m'nicholl; "we saw them all outside not long ago." "but we can't see them outside now," answered barbican; "that may be accounted for, i know, by the darkness, but it may be also by the fact of their not being there at all. in a case like this, we can't rely on uncertainties. therefore, to make sure of not losing our thermometer, we shall fasten it with a string and easily pull it in whenever we like." this advice being adopted, the window was opened quickly, and the instrument was thrown out at once by m'nicholl, who held it fastened by a short stout cord so that it could be pulled in immediately. the window had hardly been open for longer than a second, yet that second had been enough to admit a terrible icy chill into the interior of the projectile. "ten thousand ice-bergs!" cried ardan, shivering all over; "it's cold enough to freeze a white bear!" barbican waited quietly for half an hour; that time he considered quite long enough to enable the instrument to acquire the temperature of the interstellar space. then he gave the signal, and it was instantly pulled in. it took him a few moments to calculate the quantity of mercury that had escaped into the little diaphragm attached to the lower part of the instrument; then he said: "a hundred and forty degrees, centigrade, below zero!" [illustration: it's cold enough to freeze a white bear.] "two hundred and twenty degrees, fahrenheit, below zero!" cried m'nicholl; "no wonder that we should feel a little chilly!" "pouillet is right, then," said barbican, "and fourier wrong." "another victory for sorbonne over the academy!" cried ardan. "_vive la sorbonne!_ not that i'm a bit proud of finding myself in the midst of a temperature so very _distingué_--though it is more than three times colder than hayes ever felt it at humboldt glacier or nevenoff at yakoutsk. if madame the moon becomes as cold as this every time that her surface is withdrawn from the sunlight for fourteen days, i don't think, boys, that her hospitality is much to hanker after!" chapter xv. glimpses at the invisible. in spite of the dreadful condition in which the three friends now found themselves, and the still more dreadful future that awaited them, it must be acknowledged that ardan bravely kept up his spirits. and his companions were just as cheerful. their philosophy was quite simple and perfectly intelligible. what they could bear, they bore without murmuring. when it became unbearable, they only complained, if complaining would do any good. imprisoned in an iron shroud, flying through profound darkness into the infinite abysses of space, nearly a quarter million of miles distant from all human aid, freezing with the icy cold, their little stock not only of gas but of _air_ rapidly running lower and lower, a near future of the most impenetrable obscurity looming up before them, they never once thought of wasting time in asking such useless questions as where they were going, or what fate was about to befall them. knowing that no good could possibly result from inaction or despair, they carefully kept their wits about them, making their experiments and recording their observations as calmly and as deliberately as if they were working at home in the quiet retirement of their own cabinets. any other course of action, however, would have been perfectly absurd on their part, and this no one knew better than themselves. even if desirous to act otherwise, what could they have done? as powerless over the projectile as a baby over a locomotive, they could neither clap brakes to its movement nor switch off its direction. a sailor can turn his ship's head at pleasure; an aeronaut has little trouble, by means of his ballast and his throttle-valve, in giving a vertical movement to his balloon. but nothing of this kind could our travellers attempt. no helm, or ballast, or throttle-valve could avail them now. nothing in the world could be done to prevent things from following their own course to the bitter end. if these three men would permit themselves to hazard an expression at all on the subject, which they didn't, each could have done it by his own favorite motto, so admirably expressive of his individual nature. "_donnez tête baissée!_" (go it baldheaded!) showed ardan's uncalculating impetuosity and his celtic blood. "_fata quocunque vocant!_" (to its logical consequence!) revealed barbican's imperturbable stoicism, culture hardening rather than loosening the original british phlegm. whilst m'nicholl's "screw down the valve and let her rip!" betrayed at once his unconquerable yankee coolness and his old experiences as a western steamboat captain. where were they now, at eight o'clock in the morning of the day called in america the sixth of december? near the moon, very certainly; near enough, in fact, for them to perceive easily in the dark the great round screen which she formed between themselves and the projectile on one side, and the earth, sun, and stars on the other. but as to the exact distance at which she lay from them--they had no possible means of calculating it. the projectile, impelled and maintained by forces inexplicable and even incomprehensible, had come within less than thirty miles from the moon's north pole. but during those two hours of immersion in the dark shadow, had this distance been increased or diminished? there was evidently no stand-point whereby to estimate either the projectile's direction or its velocity. perhaps, moving rapidly away from the moon, it would be soon out of her shadow altogether. perhaps, on the contrary, gradually approaching her surface, it might come into contact at any moment with some sharp invisible peak of the lunar mountains--a catastrophe sure to put a sudden end to the trip, and the travellers too. an excited discussion on this subject soon sprang up, in which all naturally took part. ardan's imagination as usual getting the better of his reason, he maintained very warmly that the projectile, caught and retained by the moon's attraction, could not help falling on her surface, just as an aerolite cannot help falling on our earth. "softly, dear boy, softly," replied barbican; "aerolites _can_ help falling on the earth, and the proof is, that few of them _do_ fall--most of them don't. therefore, even granting that we had already assumed the nature of an aerolite, it does not necessarily follow that we should fall on the moon." "but," objected ardan, "if we approach only near enough, i don't see how we can help--" "you don't see, it may be," said barbican, "but you can see, if you only reflect a moment. have you not often seen the november meteors, for instance, streaking the skies, thousands at a time?" "yes; on several occasions i was so fortunate." "well, did you ever see any of them strike the earth's surface?" asked barbican. "i can't say i ever did," was the candid reply, "but--" "well, these shooting stars," continued barbican, "or rather these wandering particles of matter, shine only from being inflamed by the friction of the atmosphere. therefore they can never be at a greater distance from the earth than 30 or 40 miles at furthest, and yet they seldom fall on it. so with our projectile. it may go very close to the moon without falling into it." "but our roving projectile must pull up somewhere in the long run," replied ardan, "and i should like to know where that somewhere can be, if not in the moon." "softly again, dear boy," said barbican; "how do you know that our projectile must pull up somewhere?" "it's self-evident," replied ardan; "it can't keep moving for ever." "whether it can or it can't depends altogether on which one of two mathematical curves it has followed in describing its course. according to the velocity with which it was endowed at a certain moment, it must follow either the one or the other; but this velocity i do not consider myself just now able to calculate." "exactly so," chimed in m'nicholl; "it must describe and keep on describing either a parabola or a hyperbola." "precisely," said barbican; "at a certain velocity it would take a parabolic curve; with a velocity considerably greater it should describe a hyperbolic curve." "i always did like nice corpulent words," said ardan, trying to laugh; "bloated and unwieldy, they express in a neat handy way exactly what you mean. of course, i know all about the high--high--those high curves, and those low curves. no matter. explain them to me all the same. consider me most deplorably ignorant on the nature of these curves." "well," said the captain, a little bumptiously, "a parabola is a curve of the second order, formed by the intersection of a cone by a plane parallel to one of its sides." "you don't say so!" cried ardan, with mouth agape. "do tell!" "it is pretty nearly the path taken by a shell shot from a mortar." "well now!" observed ardan, apparently much surprised; "who'd have thought it? now for the high--high--bully old curve!" "the hyperbola," continued the captain, not minding ardan's antics, "the hyperbola is a curve of the second order, formed from the intersection of a cone by a plane parallel to its axis, or rather parallel to its two _generatrices_, constituting two separate branches, extending indefinitely in both directions." "oh, what an accomplished scientist i'm going to turn out, if only left long enough at your feet, illustrious _maestro_!" cried ardan, with effusion. "only figure it to yourselves, boys; before the captain's lucid explanations, i fully expected to hear something about the high curves and the low curves in the back of an ancient thomas! oh, michael, michael, why didn't you know the captain earlier?" but the captain was now too deeply interested in a hot discussion with barbican to notice that the frenchman was only funning him. which of the two curves had been the one most probably taken by the projectile? barbican maintained it was the parabolic; m'nicholl insisted that it was the hyperbolic. their tempers were not improved by the severe cold, and both became rather excited in the dispute. they drew so many lines on the table, and crossed them so often with others, that nothing was left at last but a great blot. they covered bits of paper with _x_'s and _y_'s, which they read out like so many classic passages, shouting them, declaiming them, drawing attention to the strong points by gesticulation so forcible and voice so loud that neither of the disputants could hear a word that the other said. possibly the very great difference in temperature between the external air in contact with their skin and the blood coursing through their veins, had given rise to magnetic currents as potential in their effects as a superabundant supply of oxygen. at all events, the language they soon began to employ in the enforcement of their arguments fairly made the frenchman's hair stand on end. "you probably forget the important difference between a _directrix_ and an _axis_," hotly observed barbican. "i know what an _abscissa_ is, any how!" cried the captain. "can you say as much?" "did you ever understand what is meant by a _double ordinate_?" asked barbican, trying to keep cool. "more than you ever did about a _transverse_ and a _conjugate!_" replied the captain, with much asperity. "any one not convinced at a glance that this _eccentricity_ is equal to _unity_, must be blind as a bat!" exclaimed barbican, fast losing his ordinary urbanity. "_less_ than _unity_, you mean! if you want spectacles, here are mine!" shouted the captain, angrily tearing them off and offering them to his adversary. "dear boys!" interposed ardan---"the _eccentricity_ is _equal_ to _unity_!" cried barbican. --"the _eccentricity_ is _less_ than _unity_!" screamed m'nicholl. "talking of eccentricity--" put in ardan. --"therefore it's a _parabola_, and must be!" cried barbican, triumphantly. --"therefore it's _hyperbola_ and nothing shorter!" was the captain's quite as confident reply. "for gracious sake!--" resumed ardan. "then produce your _asymptote_!" exclaimed barbican, with an angry sneer. "let us see the _symmetrical point_!" roared the captain, quite savagely. "dear boys! old fellows!--" cried ardan, as loud as his lungs would let him. "it's useless to argue with a mississippi steamboat captain," ejaculated barbican; "he never gives in till he blows up!" "never try to convince a yankee schoolmaster," replied m'nicholl; "he has one book by heart and don't believe in any other!" "here, friend michael, get me a cord, won't you? it's the only way to convince him!" cried barbican, hastily turning to the frenchman. "hand me over that ruler, ardan!" yelled the captain. "the heavy one! it's the only way now left to bring him to reason!" "look here, barbican and m'nicholl!" cried ardan, at last making himself heard, and keeping a tight hold both on the cord and the ruler. "this thing has gone far enough! come. stop your talk, and answer me a few questions. what do you want of this cord, barbican?" "to describe a parabolic curve!" "and what are you going to do with the ruler, m'nicholl!" "to help draw a true hyperbola!" "promise me, barbican, that you're not going to lasso the captain!" "lasso the captain! ha! ha! ha!" "you promise, m'nicholl, that you're not going to brain the president!" "i brain the president! ho! ho! ho!" "i want merely to convince him that it is a parabola!" "i only want to make it clear as day that it is hyperbola!" "does it make any real difference whether it is one or the other?" yelled ardan. "the greatest possible difference--in the eye of science." "a radical and incontrovertible difference--in the eye of science!" "oh! hang the eye of science--will either curve take us to the moon?" "no!" "will either take us back to the earth?" "no!" "will either take us anywhere that you know of?" "no!" "why not?" "because they are both _open_ curves, and therefore can never end!" "is it of the slightest possible importance which of the two curves controls the projectile?" "not the slightest--except in the eye of science!" "then let the eye of science and her parabolas and hyperbolas, and conjugates, and asymptotes, and the rest of the confounded nonsensical farrago, all go to pot! what's the use of bothering your heads about them here! have you not enough to trouble you otherwise? a nice pair of scientists you are? 'stanislow' scientists, probably. do _real_ scientists lose their tempers for a trifle? am i ever to see my ideal of a true scientific man in the flesh? barbican came very near realizing my idea perfectly; but i see that science just has as little effect as culture in driving the old adam out of us! the idea of the only simpleton in the lot having to lecture the others on propriety of deportment! i thought they were going to tear each other's eyes out! ha! ha! ha! it's _impayable_! give me that cord, michael! hand me the heavy ruler, ardan! it's the only way to bring him to reason! ho! ho! ho! it's too good! i shall never get over it!" and he laughed till his sides ached and his cheeks streamed. his laughter was so contagious, and his merriment so genuine, that there was really no resisting it, and the next few minutes witnessed nothing but laughing, and handshaking and rib-punching in the projectile--though heaven knows there was very little for the poor fellows to be merry about. as they could neither reach the moon nor return to the earth, what _was_ to befall them? the immediate outlook was the very reverse of exhilarating. if they did not die of hunger, if they did not die of thirst, the reason would simply be that, in a few days, as soon as their gas was exhausted, they would die for want of air, unless indeed the icy cold had killed them beforehand! by this time, in fact, the temperature had become so exceedingly cold that a further encroachment on their little stock of gas could be put off no longer. the light, of course, they could manage to do without; but a little heat was absolutely necessary to prevent them from freezing to death. fortunately, however, the caloric developed by the reiset and regnault process for purifying the air, raised the internal temperature of the projectile a little, so that, with an expenditure of gas much less than they had expected, our travellers were able to maintain it at a degree capable of sustaining human life. by this time, also, all observations through the windows had become exceedingly difficult. the internal moisture condensed so thick and congealed so hard on the glass that nothing short of continued friction could keep up its transparency. but this friction, however laborious they might regard it at other times, they thought very little of just now, when observation had become far more interesting and important than ever. if the moon had any atmosphere, our travellers were near enough now to strike any meteor that might be rushing through it. if the projectile itself were floating in it, as was possible, would not such a good conductor of sound convey to their ears the reflexion of some lunar echo, the roar of some storm raging among the mountains, the rattling of some plunging avalanche, or the detonations of some eructating volcano? and suppose some lunar etna or vesuvius was flashing out its fires, was it not even possible that their eye could catch a glimpse of the lurid gleam? one or two facts of this kind, well attested, would singularly elucidate the vexatious question of a lunar atmosphere, which is still so far from being decided. full of such thoughts and intensely interested in them, barbican, m'nicholl and ardan, patient as astronomers at a transit of venus, watched steadily at their windows, and allowed nothing worth noticing to escape their searching gaze. ardan's patience first gave out. he showed it by an observation natural enough, for that matter, to a mind unaccustomed to long stretches of careful thought: "this darkness is absolutely killing! if we ever take this trip again, it must be about the time of the new moon!" "there i agree with you, ardan," observed the captain. "that would be just the time to start. the moon herself, i grant, would be lost in the solar rays and therefore invisible all the time of our trip, but in compensation, we should have the full earth in full view. besides--and this is your chief point, no doubt, ardan--if we should happen to be drawn round the moon, just as we are at the present moment, we should enjoy the inestimable advantage of beholding her invisible side magnificently illuminated!" "my idea exactly, captain," said ardan. "what is your opinion on this point, barbican?" "my opinion is as follows:" answered barbican, gravely. "if we ever repeat this journey, we shall start precisely at the same time and under precisely the same circumstances. you forget that our only object is to reach the moon. now suppose we had really landed there, as we expected to do yesterday, would it not have been much more agreeable to behold the lunar continents enjoying the full light of day than to find them plunged in the dismal obscurity of night? would not our first installation of discovery have been under circumstances decidedly extremely favorable? your silence shows that you agree with me. as to the invisible side, once landed, we should have the power to visit it when we pleased, and therefore we could always choose whatever time would best suit our purpose. therefore, if we wanted to land in the moon, the period of the full moon was the best period to select. the period was well chosen, the time was well calculated, the force was well applied, the projectile was well aimed, but missing our way spoiled everything." "that's sound logic, no doubt," said ardan; "still i can't help thinking that all for want of a little light we are losing, probably forever, a splendid opportunity of seeing the moon's invisible side. how about the other planets, barbican? do you think that their inhabitants are as ignorant regarding their satellites as we are regarding ours?" "on that subject," observed m'nicholl, "i could venture an answer myself, though, of course, without pretending to speak dogmatically on any such open question. the satellites of the other planets, by their comparative proximity, must be much easier to study than our moon. the saturnians, the uranians, the jovians, cannot have had very serious difficulty in effecting some communication with their satellites. jupiter's four moons, for instance, though on an average actually 2-1/2 times farther from their planet's centre than the moon is from us, are comparatively four times nearer to him on account of his radius being eleven times greater than the earth's. with saturn's eight moons, the case is almost precisely similar. their average distance is nearly three times greater than that of our moon; but as saturn's diameter is about 9 times greater than the earth's, his bodyguards are really between 3 and 4 times nearer to their principal than ours is to us. as to uranus, his first satellite, _ariel_, half as far from him as our moon is from the earth, is comparatively, though not actually, eight times nearer." "therefore," said barbican, now taking up the subject, "an experiment analogous to ours, starting from either of these three planets, would have encountered fewer difficulties. but the whole question resolves itself into this. _if_ the jovians and the rest have been able to quit their planets, they have probably succeeded in discovering the invisible sides of their satellites. but if they have _not_ been able to do so, why, they're not a bit wiser than ourselves--but what's the matter with the projectile? it's certainly shifting!" shifting it certainly was. while the path it described as it swung blindly through the darkness, could not be laid down by any chart for want of a starting point, barbican and his companions soon became aware of a decided modification of its relative position with regard to the moon's surface. instead of its side, as heretofore, it now presented its base to the moon's disc, and its axis had become rigidly vertical to the lunar horizon. of this new feature in their journey, barbican had assured himself by the most undoubted proof towards four o'clock in the morning. what was the cause? gravity, of course. the heavier portion of the projectile gravitated towards the moon's centre exactly as if they were falling towards her surface. but _were_ they falling? were they at last, contrary to all expectations, about to reach the goal that they had been so ardently wishing for? no! a sight-point, just discovered by m'nicholl, very soon convinced barbican that the projectile was as far as ever from approaching the moon, but was moving around it in a curve pretty near concentric. m'nicholl's discovery, a luminous gleam flickering on the distant verge of the black disc, at once engrossed the complete attention of our travellers and set them to divining its course. it could not possibly be confounded with a star. its glare was reddish, like that of a distant furnace on a dark night; it kept steadily increasing in size and brightness, thus showing beyond a doubt how the projectile was moving--in the direction of the luminous point, and _not_ vertically falling towards the moon's surface. "it's a volcano!" cried the captain, in great excitement; "a volcano in full blast! an outlet of the moon's internal fires! therefore she can't be a burnt out cinder!" "it certainly looks like a volcano," replied barbican, carefully investigating this new and puzzling phenomenon with his night-glass. "if it is not one, in fact, what can it be?" "to maintain combustion," commenced ardan syllogistically and sententiously, "air is necessary. an undoubted case of combustion lies before us. therefore, this part of the moon _must_ have an atmosphere!" "perhaps so," observed barbican, "but not necessarily so. the volcano, by decomposing certain substances, gunpowder for instance, may be able to furnish its own oxygen, and thus explode in a vacuum. that blaze, in fact, seems to me to possess the intensity and the blinding glare of objects burning in pure oxygen. let us therefore be not over hasty in jumping at the conclusion of the existence of a lunar atmosphere." this fire mountain was situated, according to the most plausible conjecture, somewhere in the neighborhood of the 45th degree, south latitude, of the moon's invisible side. for a little while the travellers indulged the fond hope that they were directly approaching it, but, to their great disappointment, the path described by the projectile lay in a different direction. its nature therefore they had no opportunity of ascertaining. it began to disappear behind the dark horizon within less than half an hour after the time that m'nicholl had signalled it. still, the fact of the uncontested existence of such a phenomenon was a grand one, and of considerable importance in selenographic investigations. it proved that heat had not altogether disappeared from the lunar world; and the existence of heat once settled, who can say positively that the vegetable kingdom and even the animal kingdom have not likewise resisted so far every influence tending to destroy them? if terrestrial astronomers could only be convinced, by undoubted evidence, of the existence of this active volcano on the moon's surface, they would certainly admit of very considerable modifications in the present doubts regarding her inhabitability. thoughts of this kind continued to occupy the minds of our travellers even for some time after the little spark of light had been extinguished in the black gloom. but they said very little; even ardan was silent, and continued to look out of the window. barbican surrendered himself up to a reverie regarding the mysterious destinies of the lunar world. was its present condition a foreshadowing of what our earth is to become? m'nicholl, too, was lost in speculation. was the moon older or younger than the earth in the order of creation? had she ever been a beautiful world of life, and color, and magnificent variety? if so, had her inhabitants-great mercy, what a cry from ardan! it sounded human, so seldom do we hear a shriek so expressive at once of surprise and horror and even terror! it brought back his startled companions to their senses in a second. nor did they ask him for the cause of his alarm. it was only too clear. right in their very path, a blazing ball of fire had suddenly risen up before their eyes, the pitchy darkness all round it rendering its glare still more blinding. its phosphoric coruscation filled the projectile with white streams of lurid light, tinging the contents with a pallor indescribably ghastly. the travellers' faces in particular, gleamed with that peculiar livid and cadaverous tinge, blue and yellow, which magicians so readily produce by burning table salt in alcohol. "_sacré!_" cried ardan who always spoke his own language when much excited. "what a pair of beauties you are! say, barbican! what thundering thing is coming at us now?" "another bolide," answered barbican, his eye as calm as ever, though a faint tremor was quite perceptible in his voice. "a bolide? burning _in vacuo_? you are joking!" "i was never more in earnest," was the president's quiet reply, as he looked through his closed fingers. he knew exactly what he was saying. the dazzling glitter did not deceive _him_. such a meteor seen from the earth could not appear much brighter than the full moon, but here in the midst of the black ether and unsoftened by the veil of the atmosphere, it was absolutely blinding. these wandering bodies carry in themselves the principle of their incandescence. oxygen is by no means necessary for their combustion. some of them indeed often take fire as they rush through the layers of our atmosphere, and generally burn out before they strike the earth. but others, on the contrary, and the greater number too, follow a track through space far more distant from the earth than the fifty miles supposed to limit our atmosphere. in october, 1844, one of these meteors had appeared in the sky at an altitude calculated to be at least 320 miles; and in august, 1841, another had vanished when it had reached the height of 450 miles. a few even of those seen from the earth must have been several miles in diameter. the velocity with which some of them have been calculated to move, from east to west, in a direction contrary to that of the earth, is astounding enough to exceed belief--about fifty miles in a second. our earth does not move quite 20 miles in a second, though it goes a thousand times quicker than the fastest locomotive. [illustration: they could utter no word.] barbican calculated like lightning that the present object of their alarm was only about 250 miles distant from them, and could not be less than a mile and a quarter in diameter. it was coming on at the rate of more than a mile a second or about 75 miles a minute. it lay right in the path of the projectile, and in a very few seconds indeed a terrible collision was inevitable. the enormous rate at which it grew in size, showed the terrible velocity at which it was approaching. you can hardly imagine the situation of our poor travellers at the sight of this frightful apparition. i shall certainly not attempt to describe it. in spite of their singular courage, wonderful coolness, extraordinary fortitude, they were now breathless, motionless, almost helpless; their muscles were tightened to their utmost tension; their eyes stared out of their sockets; their faces were petrified with horror. no wonder. their projectile, whose course they were powerless as children to guide, was making straight for this fiery mass, whose glare in a few seconds had become more blinding than the open vent of a reverberating furnace. their own projectile was carrying them headlong into a bottomless abyss of fire! still, even in this moment of horror, their presence of mind, or at least their consciousness, never abandoned them. barbican had grasped each of his friends by the hand, and all three tried as well as they could to watch through half-closed eyelids the white-hot asteroid's rapid approach. they could utter no word, they could breathe no prayer. they gave themselves up for lost--in the agony of terror that partially interrupted the ordinary functions of their brains, this was absolutely all they could do! hardly three minutes had elapsed since ardan had caught the first glimpse of it--three ages of agony! now it was on them! in a second--in less than a second, the terrible fireball had burst like a shell! thousands of glittering fragments were flying around them in all directions--but with no more noise than is made by so many light flakes of thistle-down floating about some warm afternoon in summer. the blinding, blasting steely white glare of the explosion almost bereft the travellers of the use of their eyesight forever, but no more report reached their ears than if it had taken place at the bottom of the gulf of mexico. in an atmosphere like ours, such a crash would have burst the ear-membranes of ten thousand elephants! in the middle of the commotion another loud cry was suddenly heard. it was the captain who called this time. his companions rushed to his window and all looked out together in the same direction. what a sight met their eyes! what pen can describe it? what pencil can reproduce the magnificence of its coloring? it was a vesuvius at his best and wildest, at the moment just after the old cone has fallen in. millions of luminous fragments streaked the sky with their blazing fires. all sizes and shapes of light, all colors and shades of colors, were inextricably mingled together. irradiations in gold, scintillations in crimson, splendors in emerald, lucidities in ultramarine--a dazzling girandola of every tint and of every hue. of the enormous fireball, an instant ago such an object of dread, nothing now remained but these glittering pieces, shooting about in all directions, each one an asteroid in its turn. some flew out straight and gleaming like a steel sword; others rushed here and there irregularly like chips struck off a red-hot rock; and others left long trails of glittering cosmical dust behind them like the nebulous tail of donati's comet. these incandescent blocks crossed each other, struck each other, crushed each other into still smaller fragments, one of which, grazing the projectile, jarred it so violently that the very window at which the travellers were standing, was cracked by the shock. our friends felt, in fact, as if they were the objective point at which endless volleys of blazing shells were aimed, any of them powerful enough, if it only hit them fair, to make as short work of the projectile as you could of an egg-shell. they had many hairbreadth escapes, but fortunately the cracking of the glass proved to be the only serious damage of which they could complain. this extraordinary illumination lasted altogether only a few seconds; every one of its details was of a most singular and exciting nature--but one of its greatest wonders was yet to come. the ether, saturated with luminous matter, developed an intensity of blazing brightness unequalled by the lime light, the magnesium light, the electric light, or any other dazzling source of illumination with which we are acquainted on earth. it flashed out of these asteroids in all directions, and downwards, of course, as well as elsewhere. at one particular instant, it was so very vivid that ardan, who happened to be looking downwards, cried out, as if in transport: "oh!! the moon! visible at last!" and the three companions, thrilling with indescribable emotion, shot a hasty glance through the openings of the coruscating field beneath them. did they really catch a glimpse of the mysterious invisible disc that the eye of man had never before lit upon? for a second or so they gazed with enraptured fascination at all they could see. what did they see, what could they see at a distance so uncertain that barbican has never been able even to guess at it? not much. ardan was reminded of the night he had stood on the battlements of dover castle, a few years before, when the fitful flashes of a thunder storm gave him occasional and very uncertain glimpses of the french coast at the opposite side of the strait. misty strips long and narrow, extending over one portion of the disc--probably cloud-scuds sustained by a highly rarefied atmosphere--permitted only a very dreamy idea of lofty mountains stretching beneath them in shapeless proportions, of smaller reliefs, circuses, yawning craters, and the other capricious, sponge-like formations so common on the visible side. elsewhere the watchers became aware for an instant of immense spaces, certainly not arid plains, but seas, real oceans, vast and calm, reflecting from their placid depths the dazzling fireworks of the weird and wildly flashing meteors. farther on, but very darkly as if behind a screen, shadowy continents revealed themselves, their surfaces flecked with black cloudy masses, probably great forests, with here and there a-nothing more! in less than a second the illumination had come to an end, involving everything in the moon's direction once more in pitchy darkness. but had the impression made on the travellers' eyes been a mere vision or the result of a reality? an optical delusion or the shadow of a solid fact? could an observation so rapid, so fleeting, so superficial, be really regarded as a genuine scientific affirmation? could such a feeble glimmer of the invisible disc justify them in pronouncing a decided opinion on the inhabitability of the moon? to such questions as these, rising spontaneously and simultaneously in the minds of our travellers, they could not reply at the moment; they could not reply to them long afterwards; even to this day they can give them no satisfactory answer. all they could do at the moment, they did. to every sight and sound they kept their eyes and ears open, and, by observing the most perfect silence, they sought to render their impressions too vivid to admit of deception. there was now, however, nothing to be heard, and very little more to be seen. the few coruscations that flashed over the sky, gradually became fewer and dimmer; the asteroids sought paths further and further apart, and finally disappeared altogether. the ether resumed its original blackness. the stars, eclipsed for a moment, blazed out again on the firmament, and the invisible disc, that had flashed into view for an instant, once more relapsed forever into the impenetrable depths of night. chapter xvi. the southern hemisphere. exceedingly narrow and exceedingly fortunate had been the escape of the projectile. and from a danger too the most unlikely and the most unexpected. who would have ever dreamed of even the possibility of such an encounter? and was all danger over? the sight of one of these erratic bolides certainly justified the gravest apprehensions of our travellers regarding the existence of others. worse than the sunken reefs of the southern seas or the snags of the mississippi, how could the projectile be expected to avoid them? drifting along blindly through the boundless ethereal ocean, _her_ inmates, even if they saw the danger, were totally powerless to turn her aside. like a ship without a rudder, like a runaway horse, like a collapsed balloon, like an iceberg in an atlantic storm, like a boat in the niagara rapids, she moved on sullenly, recklessly, mechanically, mayhap into the very jaws of the most frightful danger, the bright intelligences within no more able to modify her motions even by a finger's breadth than they were able to affect mercury's movements around the sun. but did our friends complain of the new perils now looming up before them? they never thought of such a thing. on the contrary, they only considered themselves (after the lapse of a few minutes to calm their nerves) extremely lucky in having witnessed this fresh glory of exuberant nature, this transcendent display of fireworks which not only cast into absolute insignificance anything of the kind they had ever seen on earth, but had actually enabled them by its dazzling illumination to gaze for a second or two at the moon's mysterious invisible disc. this glorious momentary glance, worth a whole lifetime of ordinary existence, had revealed to mortal ken her continents, her oceans, her forests. but did it also convince them of the existence of an atmosphere on her surface whose vivifying molecules would render _life_ possible? this question they had again to leave unanswered--it will hardly ever be answered in a way quite satisfactory to human curiosity. still, infinite was their satisfaction at having hovered even for an instant on the very verge of such a great problem's solution. it was now half-past three in the afternoon. the projectile still pursued its curving but otherwise unknown path over the moon's invisible face. had this path been disturbed by that dangerous meteor? there was every reason to fear so--though, disturbance or no disturbance, the curve it described should still be one strictly in accordance with the laws of mechanical philosophy. whether it was a parabola or a hyperbola, however, or whether it was disturbed or not, made very little difference as, in any case, the projectile was bound to quit pretty soon the cone of the shadow, at a point directly opposite to where it had entered it. this cone could not possibly be of very great extent, considering the very slight ratio borne by the moon's diameter when compared with the sun's. still, to all appearances, the projectile seemed to be quite as deeply immersed in the shadow as ever, and there was apparently not the slightest sign of such a state of things coming soon to an end. at what rate was the projectile now moving? hard to say, but certainly not slowly, certainly rapidly enough to be out of the shadow by this time, if describing a curve rigidly parabolic. was the curve therefore _not_ parabolic? another puzzling problem and sadly bewildering to poor barbican, who had now almost lost his reason by attempting to clear up questions that were proving altogether too profound for his overworked brains. not that he ever thought of taking rest. not that his companions thought of taking rest. far from it. with senses as high-strung as ever, they still watched carefully for every new fact, every unexpected incident that might throw some light on the sidereal investigations. even their dinner, or what was called so, consisted of only a few bits of bread and meat, distributed by ardan at five o'clock, and swallowed mechanically. they did not even turn on the gas full head to see what they were eating; each man stood solidly at his window, the glass of which they had enough to do in keeping free from the rapidly condensing moisture. at about half-past five, however, m'nicholl, who had been gazing for some time with his telescope in a particular direction, called the attention of his companions to some bright specks of light barely discernible in that part of the horizon towards which the projectile was evidently moving. his words were hardly uttered when his companions announced the same discovery. they could soon all see the glittering specks not only becoming more and more numerous, but also gradually assuming the shape of an extremely slender, but extremely brilliant crescent. rapidly more brilliant and more decided in shape the profile gradually grew, till it soon resembled the first faint sketch of the new moon that we catch of evenings in the western sky, or rather the first glimpse we get of her limb as it slowly moves out of eclipse. but it was inconceivably brighter than either, and was furthermore strangely relieved by the pitchy blackness both of sky and moon. in fact, it soon became so brilliant as to dispel in a moment all doubt as to its particular nature. no meteor could present such a perfect shape; no volcano, such dazzling splendor. "the sun!" cried barbican. "the sun?" asked m'nicholl and ardan in some astonishment. "yes, dear friends; it is the sun himself that you now see; these summits that you behold him gilding are the mountains that lie on the moon's southern rim. we are rapidly nearing her south pole." "after doubling her north pole!" cried ardan; "why, we must be circumnavigating her!" "exactly; sailing all around her." "hurrah! then we're all right at last! there's nothing more to fear from your hyperbolas or parabolas or any other of your open curves!" "nothing more, certainly, from an open curve, but every thing from a closed one." "a closed curve! what is it called? and what is the trouble?" "an eclipse it is called; and the trouble is that, instead of flying off into the boundless regions of space, our projectile will probably describe an elliptical orbit around the moon--" --"what!" cried m'nicholl, in amazement, "and be her satellite for ever!" "all right and proper," said ardan; "why shouldn't she have one of her own?" "only, my dear friend," said barbican to ardan, "this change of curve involves no change in the doom of the projectile. we are as infallibly lost by an ellipse as by a parabola." "well, there was one thing i never could reconcile myself to in the whole arrangement," replied ardan cheerfully; "and that was destruction by an open curve. safe from that, i could say, 'fate, do your worst!' besides, i don't believe in the infallibility of your ellipsic. it may prove just as unreliable as the hyperbola. and it is no harm to hope that it may!" from present appearances there was very little to justify ardan's hope. barbican's theory of the elliptic orbit was unfortunately too well grounded to allow a single reasonable doubt to be expressed regarding the projectile's fate. it was to gravitate for ever around the moon--a sub-satellite. it was a new born individual in the astral universe, a microcosm, a little world in itself, containing, however, only three inhabitants and even these destined to perish pretty soon for want of air. our travellers, therefore, had no particular reason for rejoicing over the new destiny reserved for the projectile in obedience to the inexorable laws of the centripetal and centrifugal forces. they were soon, it is true, to have the opportunity of beholding once more the illuminated face of the moon. they might even live long enough to catch a last glimpse of the distant earth bathed in the glory of the solar rays. they might even have strength enough left to be able to chant one solemn final eternal adieu to their dear old mother world, upon whose features their mortal eyes should never again rest in love and longing! then, what was their projectile to become? an inert, lifeless, extinct mass, not a particle better than the most defunct asteroid that wanders blindly through the fields of ether. a gloomy fate to look forward to. yet, instead of grieving over the inevitable, our bold travellers actually felt thrilled with delight at the prospect of even a momentary deliverance from those gloomy depths of darkness and of once more finding themselves, even if only for a few hours, in the cheerful precincts illuminated by the genial light of the blessed sun! the ring of light, in the meantime, becoming brighter and brighter, barbican was not long in discovering and pointing out to his companions the different mountains that lay around the moon's south pole. "there is _leibnitz_ on your right," said he, "and on your left you can easily see the peaks of _doerfel_. belonging rather to the moon's dark side than to her earth side, they are visible to terrestrial astronomers only when she is in her highest northern latitudes. those faint peaks beyond them that you can catch with such difficulty must be those of _newton_ and _curtius_." "how in the world can you tell?" asked ardan. "they are the highest mountains in the circumpolar regions," replied barbican. "they have been measured with the greatest care; _newton_ is 23,000 feet high." "more or less!" laughed ardan. "what delphic oracle says so?" "dear friend," replied barbican quietly, "the visible mountains of the moon have been measured so carefully and so accurately that i should hardly hesitate in affirming their altitude to be as well known as that of mont blanc, or, at least, as those of the chief peaks in the himalayahs or the rocky mountain range." "i should like to know how people set about it," observed ardan incredulously. "there are several well known methods of approaching this problem," replied barbican; "and as these methods, though founded on different principles, bring us constantly to the same result, we may pretty safely conclude that our calculations are right. we have no time, just now to draw diagrams, but, if i express myself clearly, you will no doubt easily catch the general principle." "go ahead!" answered ardan. "anything but algebra." "we want no algebra now," said barbican, "it can't enable us to find principles, though it certainly enables us to apply them. well. the sun at a certain altitude shines on one side of a mountain and flings a shadow on the other. the length of this shadow is easily found by means of a telescope, whose object glass is provided with a micrometer. this consists simply of two parallel spider threads, one of which is stationary and the other movable. the moon's real diameter being known and occupying a certain space on the object glass, the exact space occupied by the shadow can be easily ascertained by means of the movable thread. this space, compared with the moon's space, will give us the length of the shadow. now, as under the same circumstances a certain height can cast only a certain shadow, of course a knowledge of the one must give you that of the other, and _vice versa_. this method, stated roughly, was that followed by galileo, and, in our own day, by beer and maedler, with extraordinary success." "i certainly see some sense in this method," said ardan, "if they took extraordinary pains to observe correctly. the least carelessness would set them wrong, not only by feet but by miles. we have time enough, however, to listen to another method before we get into the full blaze of the glorious old sol." "the other method," interrupted m'nicholl laying down his telescope to rest his eyes, and now joining in the conversation to give himself something to do, "is called that of the _tangent rays_. a solar ray, barely passing the edge of the moon's surface, is caught on the peak of a mountain the rest of which lies in shadow. the distance between this starry peak and the line separating the light from the darkness, we measure carefully by means of our telescope. then--" "i see it at a glance!" interrupted ardan with lighting eye; "the ray, being a tangent, of course makes right angles with the radius, which is known: consequently we have two sides and one angle--quite enough to find the other parts of the triangle. very ingenious--but now, that i think of it--is not this method absolutely impracticable for every mountain except those in the immediate neighborhood of the light and shadow line?" "that's a defect easily remedied by patience," explained barbican--the captain, who did not like being interrupted, having withdrawn to his telescope--"as this line is continually changing, in course of time all the mountains must come near it. a third method--to measure the mountain profile directly by means of the micrometer--is evidently applicable only to altitudes lying exactly on the lunar rim." "that is clear enough," said ardan, "and another point is also very clear. in full moon no measurement is possible. when no shadows are made, none can be measured. measurements, right or wrong, are possible only when the solar rays strike the moon's surface obliquely with regard to the observer. am i right, signor barbicani, maestro illustrissimo?" "perfectly right," replied barbican. "you are an apt pupil." "say that again," said ardan. "i want mac to hear it." barbican humored him by repeating the observation, but m'nicholl would only notice it by a grunt of doubtful meaning. "was galileo tolerably successful in his calculations?" asked ardan, resuming the conversation. before answering this question, barbican unrolled the map of the moon, which a faint light like that of day-break now enabled him to examine. he then went on: "galileo was wonderfully successful--considering that the telescope which he employed was a poor instrument of his own construction, magnifying only thirty times. he gave the lunar mountains a height of about 26,000 feet--an altitude cut down by hevelius, but almost doubled by riccioli. herschel was the first to come pretty close to the truth, but beer and maedler, whose _mappa selenographica_ now lies before us, have left really nothing more to be done for lunar astronomy--except, of course, to pay a personal visit to the moon--which we have tried to do, but i fear with a very poor prospect of success." "cheer up! cheer up!" cried ardan. "it's not all over yet by long odds. who can say what is still in store for us? another bolide may shunt us off our ellipse and even send us to the moon's surface." then seeing barbican shake his head ominously and his countenance become more and more depressed, this true friend tried to brighten him up a bit by feigning to take deep interest in a subject that to him was absolutely the driest in the world. "meer and baedler--i mean beer and maedler," he went on, "must have measured at least forty or fifty mountains to their satisfaction." "forty or fifty!" exclaimed barbican. "they measured no fewer than a thousand and ninety-five lunar mountains and crater summits with a perfect success. six of these reach an altitude of upwards of 18,000 feet, and twenty-two are more than 15,000 feet high." "which is the highest in the lot?" asked ardan, keenly relishing barbican's earnestness. "_doerfel_ in the southern hemisphere, the peak of which i have just pointed out, is the highest of the lunar mountains so far measured," replied barbican. "it is nearly 25,000 feet high." "indeed! five thousand feet lower than mount everest--still for a lunar mountain, it is quite a respectable altitude." "respectable! why it's an enormous altitude, my dear friend, if you compare it with the moon's diameter. the earth's diameter being more than 3-1/2 times greater than the moon's, if the earth's mountains bore the same ratio to those of the moon, everest should be more than sixteen miles high, whereas it is not quite six." "how do the general heights of the himalayahs compare with those of the highest lunar mountains?" asked ardan, wondering what would be his next question. "fifteen peaks in the eastern or higher division of the himalayahs, are higher than the loftiest lunar peaks," replied barbican. "even in the western, or lower section of the himalayahs, some of the peaks exceed _doerfel_." "which are the chief lunar mountains that exceed mont blanc in altitude?" asked ardan, bravely suppressing a yawn. "the following dozen, ranged, if my memory does not fail me, in the exact order of their respective heights;" replied barbican, never wearied in answering such questions: "_newton_, _curtius_, _casatus_, _rheita_, _short_, _huyghens_, _biancanus_, _tycho_, _kircher_, _clavius_, _endymion_, and _catharina_." "now those not quite up to mont blanc?" asked ardan, hardly knowing what to say. "here they are, about half a dozen of them: _moretus_, _theophilus_, _harpalus_, _eratosthenes_, _werner_, and _piccolomini_," answered barbican as ready as a schoolboy reciting his lesson, and pointing them out on the map as quickly as a compositor distributing his type. "the next in rank?" asked ardan, astounded at his friend's wonderful memory. "the next in rank," replied barbican promptly, "are those about the size of the matterhorn, that is to say about 2-3/4 miles in height. they are _macrobius_, _delambre_, and _conon_. come," he added, seeing ardan hesitating and at a loss what other question to ask, "don't you want to know what lunar mountains are about the same height as the peak of teneriffe? or as ætna? or as mount washington? you need not be afraid of puzzling me. i studied up the subject thoroughly, and therefore know all about it." "oh! i could listen to you with delight all day long!" cried ardan, enthusiastically, though with some embarrassment, for he felt a twinge of conscience in acting so falsely towards his beloved friend. "the fact is," he went on, "such a rational conversation as the present, on such an absorbing subject, with such a perfect master--" "the sun!" cried m'nicholl starting up and cheering. "he's cleared the disc completely, and he's now himself again! long life to him! hurrah!" "hurrah!" cried the others quite as enthusiastically (ardan did not seem a bit desirous to finish his sentence). they tossed their maps aside and hastened to the window. chapter xvii. tycho. it was now exactly six o'clock in the evening. the sun, completely clear of all contact with the lunar disc, steeped the whole projectile in his golden rays. the travellers, vertically over the moon's south pole, were, as barbican soon ascertained, about 30 miles distant from it, the exact distance they had been from the north pole--a proof that the elliptic curve still maintained itself with mathematical rigor. for some time, the travellers' whole attention was concentrated on the glorious sun. his light was inexpressibly cheering; and his heat, soon penetrating the walls of the projectile, infused a new and sweet life into their chilled and exhausted frames. the ice rapidly disappeared, and the windows soon resumed their former perfect transparency. "oh! how good the pleasant sunlight is!" cried the captain, sinking on a seat in a quiet ecstasy of enjoyment. "how i pity ardan's poor friends the selenites during that night so long and so icy! how impatient they must be to see the sun back again!" "yes," said ardan, also sitting down the better to bask in the vivifying rays, "his light no doubt brings them to life and keeps them alive. without light or heat during all that dreary winter, they must freeze stiff like the frogs or become torpid like the bears. i can't imagine how they could get through it otherwise." "i'm glad _we're_ through it anyhow," observed m'nicholl. "i may at once acknowledge that i felt perfectly miserable as long as it lasted. i can now easily understand how the combined cold and darkness killed doctor kane's esquimaux dogs. it was near killing me. i was so miserable that at last i could neither talk myself nor bear to hear others talk." "my own case exactly," said barbican--"that is," he added hastily, correcting himself, "i tried to talk because i found ardan so interested, but in spite of all we said, and saw, and had to think of, byron's terrible dream would continually rise up before me: "the bright sun was extinguished, and the stars wandered all darkling in the eternal space, rayless and pathless, and the icy earth swung blind and blackening in the moonless air. morn came and went, and came and brought no day! and men forgot their passions in the dread of this their desolation, and all hearts were chilled into a selfish prayer for _light_!" as he pronounced these words in accents at once monotonous and melancholy, ardan, fully appreciative, quietly gesticulated in perfect cadence with the rhythm. then the three men remained completely silent for several minutes. buried in recollection, or lost in thought, or magnetized by the bright sun, they seemed to be half asleep while steeping their limbs in his vitalizing beams. barbican was the first to dissolve the reverie by jumping up. his sharp eye had noticed that the base of the projectile, instead of keeping rigidly perpendicular to the lunar surface, turned away a little, so as to render the elliptical orbit somewhat elongated. this he made his companions immediately observe, and also called their attention to the fact that from this point they could easily have seen the earth had it been full, but that now, drowned in the sun's beams, it was quite invisible. a more attractive spectacle, however, soon engaged their undivided attention--that of the moon's southern regions, now brought within about the third of a mile by their telescopes. immediately resuming their posts by the windows, they carefully noted every feature presented by the fantastic panorama that stretched itself out in endless lengths beneath their wondering eyes. [illustration: they seemed half asleep.] mount _leibnitz_ and mount _doerfel_ form two separate groups developed in the regions of the extreme south. the first extends westwardly from the pole to the 84th parallel; the second, on the southeastern border, starting from the pole, reaches the neighborhood of the 65th. in the entangled valleys of their clustered peaks, appeared the dazzling sheets of white, noted by father secchi, but their peculiar nature barbican could now examine with a greater prospect of certainty than the illustrious roman astronomer had ever enjoyed. "they're beds of snow," he said at last in a decided tone. "snow!" exclaimed m'nicholl. "yes, snow, or rather glaciers heavily coated with glittering ice. see how vividly they reflect the sun's rays. consolidated beds of lava could never shine with such dazzling uniformity. therefore there must be both water and air on the moon's surface. not much--perhaps very little if you insist on it--but the fact that there is some can now no longer be questioned." this assertion of barbican's, made so positively by a man who never decided unless when thoroughly convinced, was a great triumph for ardan, who, as the gracious reader doubtless remembers, had had a famous dispute with m'nicholl on that very subject at tampa.[d] his eyes brightened and a smile of pleasure played around his lips, but, with a great effort at self-restraint, he kept perfectly silent and would not permit himself even to look in the direction of the captain. as for m'nicholl, he was apparently too much absorbed in _doerfel_ and _leibnitz_ to mind anything else. these mountains rose from plains of moderate extent, bounded by an indefinite succession of walled hollows and ring ramparts. they are the only chains met in this region of ridge-brimmed craters and circles; distinguished by no particular feature, they project a few pointed peaks here and there, some of which exceed four miles and a half in height. this altitude, however, foreshortened as it was by the vertical position of the projectile, could not be noticed just then, even if correct observation had been permitted by the dazzling surface. once more again before the travellers' eyes the moon's disc revealed itself in all the old familiar features so characteristic of lunar landscapes--no blending of tones, no softening of colors, no graduation of shadows, every line glaring in white or black by reason of the total absence of refracted light. and yet the wonderfully peculiar character of this desolate world imparted to it a weird attraction as strangely fascinating as ever. over this chaotic region the travellers were now sweeping, as if borne on the wings of a storm; the peaks defiled beneath them; the yawning chasms revealed their ruin-strewn floors; the fissured cracks untwisted themselves; the ramparts showed all their sides; the mysterious holes presented their impenetrable depths; the clustered mountain summits and rings rapidly decomposed themselves: but in a moment again all had become more inextricably entangled than ever. everything appeared to be the finished handiwork of volcanic agency, in the utmost purity and highest perfection. none of the mollifying effects of air or water could here be noticed. no smooth-capped mountains, no gently winding river channels, no vast prairie-lands of deposited sediment, no traces of vegetation, no signs of agriculture, no vestiges of a great city. nothing but vast beds of glistering lava, now rough like immense piles of scoriae and clinker, now smooth like crystal mirrors, and reflecting the sun's rays with the same intolerable glare. not the faintest speck of life. a world absolutely and completely dead, fixed, still, motionless--save when a gigantic land-slide, breaking off the vertical wall of a crater, plunged down into the soundless depths, with all the fury too of a crashing avalanche, with all the speed of a niagara, but, in the total absence of atmosphere, noiseless as a feather, as a snow flake, as a grain of impalpable dust. careful observations, taken by barbican and repeated by his companions, soon satisfied them that the ridgy outline of the mountains on the moon's border, though perhaps due to different forces from those acting in the centre, still presented a character generally uniform. the same bulwark-surrounded hollows, the same abrupt projections of surface. yet a different arrangement, as barbican pointed out to his companions, might be naturally expected. in the central portion of the disc, the moon's crust, before solidification, must have been subjected to two attractions--that of the moon herself and that of the earth--acting, however, in contrary directions and therefore, in a certain sense, serving to neutralize each other. towards the border of her disc, on the contrary, the terrestrial attraction, having acted in a direction perpendicular to that of the lunar, should have exerted greater power, and therefore given a different shape to the general contour. but no remarkable difference had so far been perceived by terrestrial observers; and none could now be detected by our travellers. therefore the moon must have found in herself alone the principle of her shape and of her superficial development--that is, she owed nothing to external influences. "arago was perfectly right, therefore," concluded barbican, "in the remarkable opinion to which he gave expression thirty years ago: 'no external action whatever has contributed to the formation of the moon's diversified surface.'" "but don't you think, barbican," asked the captain, "that every force, internal or external, that might modify the moon's shape, has ceased long ago?" "i am rather inclined to that opinion," said barbican; "it is not, however, a new one. descartes maintained that as the earth is an extinct sun, so is the moon an extinct earth. my own opinion at present is that the moon is now the image of death, but i can't say if she has ever been the abode of life." "the abode of life!" cried ardan, who had great repugnance in accepting the idea that the moon was no better than a heap of cinders and ashes; "why, look there! if those are not as neat a set of the ruins of an abandoned city as ever i saw, i should like to know what they are!" [illustration: once more the pipes of an aqueduct.] he pointed to some very remarkable rocky formations in the neighborhood of _short_, a ring mountain rising to an altitude considerably higher than that of mont blanc. even barbican and m'nicholl could detect some regularity and semblance of order in the arrangement of these rocks, but this, of course, they looked on as a mere freak of nature, like the lurlei rock, the giant's causeway, or the old man of the franconia mountains. ardan, however, would not accept such an easy mode of getting rid of a difficulty. "see the ruins on that bluff," he exclaimed; "those steep sides must have been washed by a great river in the prehistoric times. that was the fortress. farther down lay the city. there are the dismantled ramparts; why, there's the very coping of a portico still intact! don't you see three broken pillars lying beside their pedestals? there! a little to the left of those arches that evidently once bore the pipes of an aqueduct! you don't see them? well, look a little to the right, and there is something that you can see! as i'm a living man i have no difficulty in discerning the gigantic butments of a great bridge that formerly spanned that immense river!" did he really see all this? to this day he affirms stoutly that he did, and even greater wonders besides. his companions, however, without denying that he had good grounds for his assertion on this subject or questioning the general accuracy of his observations, content themselves with saying that the reason why they had failed to discover the wonderful city, was that ardan's telescope was of a strange and peculiar construction. being somewhat short-sighted, he had had it manufactured expressly for his own use, but it was of such singular power that his companions could not use it without hurting their eyes. but, whether the ruins were real or not, the moments were evidently too precious to be lost in idle discussion. the great city of the selenites soon disappeared on the remote horizon, and, what was of far greater importance, the distance of the projectile from the moon's disc began to increase so sensibly that the smaller details of the surface were soon lost in a confused mass, and it was only the lofty heights, the wide craters, the great ring mountains, and the vast plains that still continued to give sharp, distinctive outlines. a little to their left, the travellers could now plainly distinguish one of the most remarkable of the moon's craters, _newton_, so well known to all lunar astronomers. its ramparts, forming a perfect circle, rise to such a height, at least 22,000 feet, as to seem insurmountable. "you can, no doubt, notice for yourselves," said barbican, "that the external height of this mountain is far from being equal to the depth of its crater. the enormous pit, in fact, seems to be a soundless sea of pitchy black, the bottom of which the sun's rays have never reached. there, as humboldt says, reigns eternal darkness, so absolute that earth-shine or even sunlight is never able to dispel it. had michael's friends the old mythologists ever known anything about it, they would doubtless have made it the entrance to the infernal regions. on the whole surface of our earth, there is no mountain even remotely resembling it. it is a perfect type of the lunar crater. like most of them, it shows that the peculiar formation of the moon's surface is due, first, to the cooling of the lunar crust; secondly, to the cracking from internal pressure; and, thirdly, to the violent volcanic action in consequence. this must have been of a far fiercer nature than it has ever been with us. the matter was ejected to a vast height till great mountains were formed; and still the action went on, until at last the floor of the crater sank to a depth far lower than the level of the external plain." "you may be right," said ardan by way of reply; "as for me, i'm looking out for another city. but i'm sorry to say that our projectile is increasing its distance so fast that, even if one lay at my feet at this moment, i doubt very much if i could see it a bit better than either you or the captain." _newton_ was soon passed, and the projectile followed a course that took it directly over the ring mountain _moretus_. a little to the west the travellers could easily distinguish the summits of _blancanus_, 7,000 feet high, and, towards seven o'clock in the evening, they were approaching the neighborhood of _clavius_. this walled-plain, one of the most remarkable on the moon, lies 55° s. by 15° e. its height is estimated at 16,000 feet, but it is considered to be about a hundred and fifty miles in diameter. of this vast crater, the travellers now at a distance of 250 miles, reduced to 2-1/2 by their telescopes, had a magnificent bird's-eye view. "our terrestrial volcanoes," said barbican, "as you can now readily judge for yourselves, are no more than molehills when compared with those of the moon. measure the old craters formed by the early eruptions of vesuvius and ætna, and you will find them little more than three miles in diameter. the crater of cantal in central france is only about six miles in width; the famous valley in ceylon, called the _crater_, though not at all due to volcanic action, is 44 miles across and is considered to be the greatest in the world. but even this is very little in comparison to the diameter of _clavius_ lying beneath us at the present moment." "how much is its diameter?" asked the captain. "at least one hundred and forty-two miles," replied barbican; "it is probably the greatest in the moon, but many others measure more than a hundred miles across." "dear boys," said ardan, half to himself, half to the others, "only imagine the delicious state of things on the surface of the gentle moon when these craters, brimming over with hissing lava, were vomiting forth, all at the same time, showers of melted stones, clouds of blinding smoke, and sheets of blasting flame! what an intensely overpowering spectacle was here presented once, but now, how are the mighty fallen! our moon, as at present beheld, seems to be nothing more than the skinny spectre left after a brilliant display of fireworks, when the spluttering crackers, the glittering wheels, the hissing serpents, the revolving suns, and the dazzling stars, are all 'played out', and nothing remains to tell of the gorgeous spectacle but a few blackened sticks and half a dozen half burned bits of pasteboard. i should like to hear one of you trying to explain the cause, the reason, the principle, the philosophy of such tremendous cataclysms!" barbican's only reply was a series of nods, for in truth he had not heard a single word of ardan's philosophic explosion. his ears were with his eyes, and these were obstinately bent on the gigantic ramparts of _clavius_, formed of concentric mountain ridges, which were actually leagues in depth. on the floor of the vast cavity, could be seen hundreds of smaller craters, mottling it like a skimming dish, and pierced here and there by sharp peaks, one of which could hardly be less than 15,000 feet high. all around, the plain was desolate in the extreme. you could not conceive how anything could be barrener than these serrated outlines, or gloomier than these shattered mountains--until you looked at the plain that encircled them. ardan hardly exaggerated when he called it the scene of a battle fought thousands of years ago but still white with the hideous bones of overthrown peaks, slaughtered mountains and mutilated precipices! "hills amid the air encountered hills, hurled to and fro in jaculation dire," murmured m'nicholl, who could quote you milton quite as readily as the bible. "this must have been the spot," muttered barbican to himself, "where the brittle shell of the cooling sphere, being thicker than usual, offered greater resistance to an eruption of the red-hot nucleus. hence these piled up buttresses, and these orderless heaps of consolidated lava and ejected scoriæ." the projectile advanced, but the scene of desolation seemed to remain unchanged. craters, ring mountains, pitted plateaus dotted with shapeless wrecks, succeeded each other without interruption. for level plain, for dark "sea," for smooth plateau, the eye here sought in vain. it was a swiss greenland, an icelandic norway, a sahara of shattered crust studded with countless hills of glassy lava. at last, in the very centre of this blistered region, right too at its very culmination, the travellers came on the brightest and most remarkable mountain of the moon. in the dazzling _tycho_ they found it an easy matter to recognize the famous lunar point, which the world will for ever designate by the name of the distinguished astronomer of denmark. this brilliant luminosity of the southern hemisphere, no one that ever gazes at the full moon in a cloudless sky, can help noticing. ardan, who had always particularly admired it, now hailed it as an old friend, and almost exhausted breath, imagination and vocabulary in the epithets with which he greeted this cynosure of the lunar mountains. "hail!" he cried, "thou blazing focus of glittering streaks, thou coruscating nucleus of irradiation, thou starting point of rays divergent, thou egress of meteoric flashes! hub of the silver wheel that ever rolls in silent majesty over the starry plains of night! paragon of jewels enchased in a carcanet of dazzling brilliants! eye of the universe, beaming with heavenly resplendescence! "who shall say what thou art? diana's nimbus? the golden clasp of her floating robes? the blazing head of the great bolt that rivets the lunar hemispheres in union inseverable? or cans't thou have been some errant bolide, which missing its way, butted blindly against the lunar face, and there stuck fast, like a minie ball mashed against a cast-iron target? alas! nobody knows. not even barbican is able to penetrate thy mystery. but one thing _i_ know. thy dazzling glare so sore my eyes hath made that longer on thy light to gaze i do not dare. captain, have you any smoked glass?" in spite of this anti-climax, ardan's companions could hardly consider his utterings either as ridiculous or over enthusiastic. they could easily excuse his excitement on the subject. and so could we, if we only remember that _tycho_, though nearly a quarter of a million miles distant, is such a luminous point on the lunar disc, that almost any moonlit night it can be easily perceived by the unaided terrestrial eye. what then must have been its splendor in the eyes of our travellers whose telescopes brought it actually four thousand times nearer! no wonder that with smoked glasses, they endeavored to soften off its effulgent glare! then in hushed silence, or at most uttering at intervals a few interjections expressive of their intense admiration, they remained for some time completely engrossed in the overwhelming spectacle. for the time being, every sentiment, impression, thought, feeling on their part, was concentrated in the eye, just as at other times under violent excitement every throb of our life is concentrated in the heart. _tycho_ belongs to the system of lunar craters that is called _radiating_, like _aristarchus_ or _copernicus_, which had been already seen and highly admired by our travellers at their first approach to the moon. but it is decidedly the most remarkable and conspicuous of them all. it occupies the great focus of disruption, whence it sends out great streaks thousands of miles in length; and it gives the most unmistakable evidence of the terribly eruptive nature of those forces that once shattered the moon's solidified shell in this portion of the lunar surface. situated in the southern latitude of 43° by an eastern longitude of 12°, _tycho's_ crater, somewhat elliptical in shape, is 54 miles in diameter and upwards of 16,000 feet in depth. its lofty ramparts are buttressed by other mountains, mont blancs in size, all grouped around it, and all streaked with the great divergent fissures that radiate from it as a centre. of what this incomparable mountain really is, with all these lines of projections converging towards it and with all these prominent points of relief protruding within its crater, photography has, so far, been able to give us only a very unsatisfactory idea. the reason too is very simple: it is only at full moon that _tycho_ reveals himself in all his splendor. the shadows therefore vanishing, the perspective foreshortenings disappear and the views become little better than a dead blank. this is the more to be regretted as this wonderful region is well worthy of being represented with the greatest possible photographic accuracy. it is a vast agglomeration of holes, craters, ring formations, a complicated intersection of crests--in short, a distracting volcanic network flung over the blistered soil. the ebullitions of the central eruption still evidently preserve their original form. as they first appeared, so they lie. crystallizing as they cooled, they have stereotyped in imperishable characters the aspect formerly presented by the whole moon's surface under the influences of recent plutonic upheaval. our travellers were far more fortunate than the photographers. the distance separating them from the peaks of _tycho's_ concentric terraces was not so considerable as to conceal the principal details from a very satisfactory view. they could easily distinguish the annular ramparts of the external circumvallation, the mountains buttressing the gigantic walls internally as well as externally, the vast esplanades descending irregularly and abruptly to the sunken plains all around. they could even detect a difference of a few hundred feet in altitude in favor of the western or right hand side over the eastern. they could also see that these dividing ridges were actually inaccessible and completely unsurmountable, at least by ordinary terrestrian efforts. no system of castrametation ever devised by polybius or vauban could bear the slightest comparison with such vast fortifications, a city built on the floor of the circular cavity could be no more reached by the outside lunarians than if it had been built in the planet mars. this idea set ardan off again. "yes," said he, "such a city would be at once completely inaccessible, and still not inconveniently situated in a plateau full of aspects decidedly picturesque. even in the depths of this immense crater, nature, as you can see, has left no flat and empty void. you can easily trace its special oreography, its various mountain systems which turn it into a regular world on a small scale. notice its cones, its central hills, its valleys, its substructures already cut and dry and therefore quietly prepared to receive the masterpieces of selenite architecture. down there to the left is a lovely spot for a saint peter's; to the right, a magnificent site for a forum; here a louvre could be built capable of entrancing michael angelo himself; there a citadel could be raised to which even gibraltar would be a molehill! in the middle rises a sharp peak which can hardly be less than a mile in height--a grand pedestal for the statue of some selenite vincent de paul or george washington. and around them all is a mighty mountain-ring at least 3 miles high, but which, to an eye looking from the centre of our vast city, could not appear to be more than five or six hundred feet. enormous circus, where mighty rome herself in her palmiest days, though increased tenfold, would have no reason to complain for want of room!" he stopped for a few seconds, perhaps to take breath, and then resumed: "oh what an abode of serene happiness could be constructed within this shadow-fringed ring of the mighty mountains! o blessed refuge, unassailable by aught of human ills! what a calm unruffled life could be enjoyed within thy hallowed precincts, even by those cynics, those haters of humanity, those disgusted reconstructors of society, those misanthropes and misogynists old and young, who are continually writing whining verses in odd corners of the newspapers!" "right at last, ardan, my boy!" cried m'nicholl, quietly rubbing the glass of his spectacles; "i should like to see the whole lot of them carted in there without a moment's delay!" "it couldn't hold the half of them!" observed barbican drily. [footnote d: baltimore gun club, pp. 295 _et seq._] chapter xviii. puzzling questions. it was not until the projectile had passed a little beyond _tycho's_ immense concavity that barbican and his friends had a good opportunity for observing the brilliant streaks sent so wonderfully flying in all directions from this celebrated mountain as a common centre. they examined them for some time with the closest attention. what could be the nature of this radiating aureola? by what geological phenomena could this blazing coma have been possibly produced? such questions were the most natural things in the world for barbican and his companions to propound to themselves, as indeed they have been to every astronomer from the beginning of time, and probably will be to the end. what _did_ they see? what you can see, what anybody can see on a clear night when the moon is full--only our friends had all the advantages of a closer view. from _tycho_, as a focus, radiated in all directions, as from the head of a peeled orange, more than a hundred luminous streaks or channels, edges raised, middle depressed--or perhaps _vice versa_, owing to an optical illusion--some at least twelve miles wide, some fully thirty. in certain directions they ran for a distance of at least six hundred miles, and seemed--especially towards the west, northwest, and north--to cover half the southern hemisphere. one of these flashes extended as far as _neander_ on the 40th meridian; another, curving around so as to furrow the _mare nectaris_, came to an end on the chain of the _pyrenees_, after a course of perhaps a little more than seven hundred miles. on the east, some of them barred with luminous network the _mare nubium_ and even the _mare humorum_. the most puzzling feature of these glittering streaks was that they ran their course directly onward, apparently neither obstructed by valley, crater, or mountain ridge however high. they all started, as said before, from one common focus, _tycho's_ crater. from this they certainly all seemed to emanate. could they be rivers of lava once vomited from that centre by resistless volcanic agency and afterwards crystallized into glassy rock? this idea of herschel's, barbican had no hesitation in qualifying as exceedingly absurd. rivers running in perfectly straight lines, across plains, and _up_ as well as _down_ mountains! "other astronomers," he continued, "have looked on these streaks as a peculiar kind of _moraines_, that is, long lines of erratic blocks belched forth with mighty power at the period of _tycho's_ own upheaval." "how do you like that theory, barbican," asked the captain. "it's not a particle better than herschel's," was the reply; "no volcanic action could project rocks to a distance of six or seven hundred miles, not to talk of laying them down so regularly that we can't detect a break in them." "happy thought!" cried ardan suddenly; "it seems to me that i can tell the cause of these radiating streaks!" "let us hear it," said barbican. "certainly," was ardan's reply; "these streaks are all only the parts of what we call a 'star,' as made by a stone striking ice; or by a ball, a pane of glass." "not bad," smiled barbican approvingly; "only where is the hand that flung the stone or threw the ball?" "the hand is hardly necessary," replied ardan, by no means disconcerted; "but as for the ball, what do you say to a comet?" here m'nicholl laughed so loud that ardan was seriously irritated. however, before he could say anything cutting enough to make the captain mind his manners, barbican had quickly resumed: "dear friend, let the comets alone, i beg of you; the old astronomers fled to them on all occasions and made them explain every difficulty--" --"the comets were all used up long ago--" interrupted m'nicholl. --"yes," went on barbican, as serenely as a judge, "comets, they said, had fallen on the surface in meteoric showers and crushed in the crater cavities; comets had dried up the water; comets had whisked off the atmosphere; comets had done everything. all pure assumption! in your case, however, friend michael, no comet whatever is necessary. the shock that gave rise to your great 'star' may have come from the interior rather than the exterior. a violent contraction of the lunar crust in the process of cooling may have given birth to your gigantic 'star' formation." "i accept the amendment," said ardan, now in the best of humor and looking triumphantly at m'nicholl. "an english scientist," continued barbican, "nasmyth by name, is decidedly of your opinion, especially ever since a little experiment of his own has confirmed him in it. he filled a glass globe with water, hermetically sealed it, and then plunged it into a hot bath. the enclosed water, expanding at a greater rate than the glass, burst the latter, but, in doing so, it made a vast number of cracks all diverging in every direction from the focus of disruption. something like this he conceives to have taken place around _tycho_. as the crust cooled, it cracked. the lava from the interior, oozing out, spread itself on both sides of the cracks. this certainly explains pretty satisfactorily why those flat glistening streaks are of much greater width than the fissures through which the lava had at first made its way to the surface." "well done for an englishman!" cried ardan in great spirits. "he's no englishman," said m'nicholl, glad to have an opportunity of coming off with some credit. "he is the famous scotch engineer who invented the steam hammer, the steam ram, and discovered the 'willow leaves' in the sun's disc." "better and better," said ardan--"but, powers of vulcan! what makes it so hot? i'm actually roasting!" this observation was hardly necessary to make his companions conscious that by this time they felt extremely uncomfortable. the heat had become quite oppressive. between the natural caloric of the sun and the reflected caloric of the moon, the projectile was fast turning into a regular bake oven. this transition from intense cold to intense heat was already about quite as much as they could bear. "what shall we do, barbican?" asked ardan, seeing that for some time no one else appeared inclined to say a word. "nothing, at least yet awhile, friend ardan," replied barbican, "i have been watching the thermometer carefully for the last few minutes, and, though we are at present at 38° centigrade, or 100° fahrenheit, i have noticed that the mercury is slowly falling. you can also easily remark for yourself that the floor of the projectile is turning away more and more from the lunar surface. from this i conclude quite confidently, and i see that the captain agrees with me, that all danger of death from intense heat, though decidedly alarming ten minutes ago, is over for the present and, for some time at least, it may be dismissed from further consideration." "i'm not very sorry for it," said ardan cheerfully; "neither to be baked like a pie in an oven nor roasted like a fat goose before a fire is the kind of death i should like to die of." "yet from such a death you would suffer no more than your friends the selenites are exposed to every day of their lives," said the captain, evidently determined on getting up an argument. "i understand the full bearing of your allusion, my dear captain," replied ardan quickly, but not at all in a tone showing that he was disposed to second m'nicholl's expectations. he was, in fact, fast losing all his old habits of positivism. latterly he had seen much, but he had reflected more. the deeper he had reflected, the more inclined he had become to accept the conclusion that the less he knew. hence he had decided that if m'nicholl wanted an argument it should not be with him. all speculative disputes he should henceforth avoid; he would listen with pleasure to all that could be urged on each side; he might even skirmish a little here and there as the spirit moved him; but a regular pitched battle on a subject purely speculative he was fully determined never again to enter into. "yes, dear captain," he continued, "that pointed arrow of yours has by no means missed its mark, but i can't deny that my faith is beginning to be what you call a little 'shaky' in the existence of my friends the selenites. however, i should like to have your square opinion on the matter. barbican's also. we have witnessed many strange lunar phenomena lately, closer and clearer than mortal eye ever rested on them before. has what we have seen confirmed any theory of yours or confounded any hypothesis? have you seen enough to induce you to adopt decided conclusions? i will put the question formally. do you, or do you not, think that the moon resembles the earth in being the abode of animals and intelligent beings? come, answer, _messieurs_. yes, or no?" "i think we can answer your question categorically," replied barbican, "if you modify its form a little." "put the question any way you please," said ardan; "only you answer it! i'm not particular about the form." "good," said barbican; "the question, being a double one, demands a double answer. first: _is the moon inhabitable?_ second: _has the moon ever been inhabited?_" "that's the way to go about it," said the captain. "now then, ardan, what do _you_ say to the first question? yes, or no?" "i really can't say anything," replied ardan. "in the presence of such distinguished scientists, i'm only a listener, a 'mere looker on in vienna' as the divine williams has it. however, for the sake of argument, suppose i reply in the affirmative, and say that _the moon is inhabitable_." "if you do, i shall most unhesitatingly contradict you," said barbican, feeling just then in splendid humor for carrying on an argument, not, of course, for the sake of contradicting or conquering or crushing or showing off or for any other vulgar weakness of lower minds, but for the noble and indeed the only motive that should impel a philosopher--that of _enlightening_ and _convincing_, "in taking the negative side, however, or saying that the moon is not inhabitable, i shall not be satisfied with merely negative arguments. many words, however, are not required. look at her present condition: her atmosphere dwindled away to the lowest ebb; her 'seas' dried up or very nearly so; her waters reduced to next to nothing; her vegetation, if existing at all, existing only on the scantiest scale; her transitions from intense heat to intense cold, as we ourselves can testify, sudden in the extreme; her nights and her days each nearly 360 hours long. with all this positively against her and nothing at all that we know of positively for her, i have very little hesitation in saying that the moon appears to me to be absolutely uninhabitable. she seems to me not only unpropitious to the development of the animal kingdom but actually incapable of sustaining life at all--that is, in the sense that we usually attach to such a term." "that saving clause is well introduced, friend barbican," said m'nicholl, who, seeing no chance of demolishing ardan, had not yet made up his mind as to having another little bout with the president. "for surely you would not venture to assert that the moon is uninhabitable by a race of beings having an organization different from ours?" "that question too, captain," replied barbican, "though a much more difficult one, i shall try to answer. first, however, let us see, captain, if we agree on some fundamental points. how do we detect the existence of life? is it not by _movement_? is not _motion_ its result, no matter what may be its organization?" "well," said the captain in a drawling way, "i guess we may grant that." "then, dear friends," resumed barbican, "i must remind you that, though we have had the privilege of observing the lunar continents at a distance of not more than one-third of a mile, we have never yet caught sight of the first thing moving on her surface. the presence of humanity, even of the lowest type, would have revealed itself in some form or other, by boundaries, by buildings, even by ruins. now what _have_ we seen? everywhere and always, the geological works of _nature_; nowhere and never, the orderly labors of _man_. therefore, if any representatives of animal life exist in the moon, they must have taken refuge in those bottomless abysses where our eyes were unable to track them. and even this i can't admit. they could not always remain in these cavities. if there is any atmosphere at all in the moon, it must be found in her immense low-lying plains. over those plains her inhabitants must have often passed, and on those plains they must in some way or other have left some mark, some trace, some vestige of their existence, were it even only a road. but you both know well that nowhere are any such traces visible: therefore, they don't exist; therefore, no lunar inhabitants exist--except, of course, such a race of beings, if we can imagine any such, as could exist without revealing their existence by _movement_." "that is to say," broke in ardan, to give what he conceived a sharper point to barbican's cogent arguments, "such a race of beings as could exist without existing!" "precisely," said barbican: "life without movement, and no life at all, are equivalent expressions." "captain," said ardan, with all the gravity he could assume, "have you anything more to say before the moderator of our little debating society gives his opinion on the arguments regarding the question before the house?" "no more at present," said the captain, biding his time. "then," resumed ardan, rising with much dignity, "the committee on lunar explorations, appointed by the honorable baltimore gun club, solemnly assembled in the projectile belonging to the aforesaid learned and respectable society, having carefully weighed all the arguments advanced on each side of the question, and having also carefully considered all the new facts bearing on the case that have lately come under the personal notice of said committee, unanimously decides negatively on the question now before the chair for investigation--namely, 'is the moon inhabitable?' barbican, as chairman of the committee, i empower you to duly record our solemn decision--_no, the moon is not inhabitable_." barbican, opening his note-book, made the proper entry among the minutes of the meeting of december 6th. "now then, gentlemen," continued ardan, "if you are ready for the second question, the necessary complement of the first, we may as well approach it at once. i propound it for discussion in the following form: _has the moon ever been inhabited?_ captain, the committee would be delighted to hear your remarks on the subject." "gentlemen," began the captain in reply, "i had formed my opinion regarding the ancient inhabitability of our satellite long before i ever dreamed of testing my theory by anything like our present journey. i will now add that all our observations, so far made, have only served to confirm me in my opinion. i now venture to assert, not only with every kind of probability in my favor but also on what i consider most excellent arguments, that the moon was once inhabited by a race of beings possessing an organization similar to our own, that she once produced animals anatomically resembling our terrestrial animals, and that all these living organizations, human and animal, have had their day, that that day vanished ages and ages ago, and that, consequently, _life_, extinguished forever, can never again reveal its existence there under any form." "is the chair," asked ardan, "to infer from the honorable gentleman's observations that he considers the moon to be a world much older than the earth?" "not exactly that," replied the captain without hesitation; "i rather mean to say that the moon is a world that grew old more rapidly than the earth; that it came to maturity earlier; that it ripened quicker, and was stricken with old age sooner. owing to the difference of the volumes of the two worlds, the organizing forces of matter must have been comparatively much more violent in the interior of the moon than in the interior of the earth. the present condition of its surface, as we see it lying there beneath us at this moment, places this assertion beyond all possibility of doubt. wrinkled, pitted, knotted, furrowed, scarred, nothing that we can show on earth resembles it. moon and earth were called into existence by the creator probably at the same period of time. in the first stages of their existence, they do not seem to have been anything better than masses of gas. acted upon by various forces and various influences, all of course directed by an omnipotent intelligence, these gases by degrees became liquid, and the liquids grew condensed into solids until solidity could retain its shape. but the two heavenly bodies, though starting at the same time, developed at a very different ratio. most undoubtedly, our globe was still gaseous or at most only liquid, at the period when the moon, already hardened by cooling, began to become inhabitable." "_most undoubtedly_ is good!" observed ardan admiringly. "at this period," continued the learned captain, "an atmosphere surrounded her. the waters, shut in by this gaseous envelope, could no longer evaporate. under the combined influences of air, water, light, and solar heat as well as internal heat, vegetation began to overspread the continents by this time ready to receive it, and most undoubtedly--i mean--a--incontestably--it was at this epoch that _life_ manifested itself on the lunar surface. i say _incontestably_ advisedly, for nature never exhausts herself in producing useless things, and therefore a world, so wonderfully inhabitable, _must_ of necessity have had inhabitants." "i like _of necessity_ too," said ardan, who could never keep still; "i always did, when i felt my arguments to be what you call a little shaky." "but, my dear captain," here observed barbican, "have you taken into consideration some of the peculiarities of our satellite which are decidedly opposed to the development of vegetable and animal existence? those nights and days, for instance, 354 hours long?" "i have considered them all," answered the brave captain. "days and nights of such an enormous length would at the present time, i grant, give rise to variations in temperature altogether intolerable to any ordinary organization. but things were quite different in the era alluded to. at that time, the atmosphere enveloped the moon in a gaseous mantle, and the vapors took the shape of clouds. by the screen thus formed by the hand of nature, the heat of the solar rays was tempered and the nocturnal radiation retarded. light too, as well as heat, could be modified, tempered, and _genialized_ if i may use the expression, by the air. this produced a healthy counterpoise of forces, which, now that the atmosphere has completely disappeared, of course exists no longer. besides--friend ardan, you will excuse me for telling you something new, something that will surprise you--" --"surprise me, my dear boy, fire away surprising me!" cried ardan. "i like dearly to be surprised. all i regret is that you scientists have surprised me so much already that i shall never have a good, hearty, genuine surprise again!" --"i am most firmly convinced," continued the captain, hardly waiting for ardan to finish, "that, at the period of the moon's occupancy by living creatures, her days and nights were by no means 354 hours long." "well! if anything could surprise me," said ardan quickly, "such an assertion as that most certainly would. on what does the honorable gentleman base his _most firm conviction_?" "we know," replied the captain, "that the reason of the moon's present long day and night is the exact equality of the periods of her rotation on her axis and of her revolution around the earth. when she has turned once around the earth, she has turned once around herself. consequently, her back is turned to the sun during one-half of the month; and her face during the other half. now, i don't believe that this state of things existed at the period referred to." "the gentleman does not believe!" exclaimed ardan. "the chair must be excused for reminding the honorable gentleman that it can not accept his incredulity as a sound and valid argument. these two movements have certainly equal periods now; why not always?" "for the simple reason that this equality of periods is due altogether to the influence of terrestrial attraction," replied the ready captain. "this attraction at present, i grant, is so great that it actually disables the moon from revolving on herself; consequently she must always keep the same face turned towards the earth. but who can assert that this attraction was powerful enough to exert the same influence at the epoch when the earth herself was only a fluid substance? in fact, who can even assert that the moon has always been the earth's satellite?" "ah, who indeed?" exclaimed ardan. "and who can assert that the moon did not exist long before the earth was called into being at all? in fact, who can assert that the earth itself is not a great piece broken off the moon? nothing like asking absurd questions! i've often found them passing for the best kind of arguments!" "friend ardan," interposed barbican, who noticed that the captain was a little too disconcerted to give a ready reply; "friend ardan, i must say you are not quite wrong in showing how certain methods of reasoning, legitimate enough in themselves, may be easily abused by being carried too far. i think, however, that the captain might maintain his position without having recourse to speculations altogether too gigantic for ordinary intellect. by simply admitting the insufficiency of the primordeal attraction to preserve a perfect balance between the movements of the lunar rotation and revolution, we can easily see how the nights and days could once succeed each other on the moon exactly as they do at present on the earth." "nothing can be clearer!" resumed the brave captain, once more rushing to the charge. "besides, even without this alternation of days and nights, life on the lunar surface was quite possible." "of course it was possible," said ardan; "everything is possible except what contradicts itself. it is possible too that every possibility is a fact; therefore, it _is_ a fact. however," he added, not wishing to press the captain's weak points too closely, "let all these logical niceties pass for the present. now that you have established the existence of your humanity in the moon, the chair would respectfully ask how it has all so completely disappeared?" "it disappeared completely thousands, perhaps millions, of years ago," replied the unabashed captain. "it perished from the physical impossibility of living any longer in a world where the atmosphere had become by degrees too rare to be able to perform its functions as the great resuscitating medium of dependent existences. what took place on the moon is only what is to take place some day or other on the earth, when it is sufficiently cooled off." "cooled off?" "yes," replied the captain as confidently and with as little hesitation as if he was explaining some of the details of his great machine-shop in philadelphia; "you see, according as the internal fire near the surface was extinguished or was withdrawn towards the centre, the lunar shell naturally cooled off. the logical consequences, of course, then gradually took place: extinction of organized beings; and then extinction of vegetation. the atmosphere, in the meantime, became thinner and thinner--partly drawn off with the water evaporated by the terrestrial attraction, and partly sinking with the solid water into the crust-cracks caused by cooling. with the disappearance of air capable of respiration, and of water capable of motion, the moon, of course, became uninhabitable. from that day it became the abode of death, as completely as it is at the present moment." "that is the fate in store for our earth?" "in all probability." "and when is it to befall us?" "just as soon as the crust becomes cold enough to be uninhabitable." "perhaps your philosophership has taken the trouble to calculate how many years it will take our unfortunate _terra mater_ to cool off?" "well; i have." "and you can rely on your figures?" "implicitly." "why not tell it at once then to a fellow that's dying of impatience to know all about it? captain, the chair considers you one of the most tantalizing creatures in existence!" "if you only listen, you will hear," replied m'nicholl quietly. "by careful observations, extended through a series of many years, men have been able to discover the average loss of temperature endured by the earth in a century. taking this as the ground work of their calculations, they have ascertained that our earth shall become an uninhabitable planet in about--" "don't cut her life too short! be merciful!" cried ardan in a pleading tone half in earnest. "come, a good long day, your honor! a good long day!" "the planet that we call the earth," continued the captain, as grave as a judge, "will become uninhabitable to human beings, after a lapse of 400 thousand years from the present time." "hurrah!" cried ardan, much relieved. "_vive la science!_ henceforward, what miscreant will persist in saying that the savants are good for nothing? proudly pointing to this calculation, can't they exclaim to all defamers: 'silence, croakers! our services are invaluable! haven't we insured the earth for 400 thousand years?' again i say _vive la science!_" "ardan," began the captain with some asperity, "the foundations on which science has raised--" "i'm half converted already," interrupted ardan in a cheery tone; "i do really believe that science is not altogether unmitigated homebogue! _vive_--" --"but what has all this to do with the question under discussion?" interrupted barbican, desirous to keep his friends from losing their tempers in idle disputation. "true!" said ardan. "the chair, thankful for being called to order, would respectfully remind the house that the question before it is: _has the moon been inhabited?_ affirmative has been heard. negative is called on to reply. mr. barbican has the _parole_." but mr. barbican was unwilling just then to enter too deeply into such an exceedingly difficult subject. "the probabilities," he contented himself with saying, "would appear to be in favor of the captain's speculations. but we must never forget that they _are_ speculations--nothing more. not the slightest evidence has yet been produced that the moon is anything else than 'a dead and useless waste of extinct volcanoes.' no signs of cities, no signs of buildings, not even of ruins, none of anything that could be reasonably ascribed to the labors of intelligent creatures. no sign of change of any kind has been established. as for the agreement between the moon's rotation and her revolution, which compels her to keep the same face constantly turned towards the earth, we don't know that it has not existed from the beginning. as for what is called the effect of volcanic agency upon her surface, we don't know that her peculiar blistered appearance may not have been brought about altogether by the bubbling and spitting that blisters molten iron when cooling and contracting. some close observers have even ventured to account for her craters by saying they were due to pelting showers of meteoric rain. then again as to her atmosphere--why should she have lost her atmosphere? why should it sink into craters? atmosphere is gas, great in volume, small in matter; where would there be room for it? solidified by the intense cold? possibly in the night time. but would not the heat of the long day be great enough to thaw it back again? the same trouble attends the alleged disappearance of the water. swallowed up in the cavernous cracks, it is said. but why are there cracks? cooling is not always attended by cracking. water cools without cracking; cannon balls cool without cracking. too much stress has been laid on the great difference between the _nucleus_ and the _crust_: it is really impossible to say where one ends and the other begins. in fact, no theory explains satisfactorily anything regarding the present state of the moon's surface. in fact, from the day that galileo compared her clustering craters to 'eyes on a peacock's tail' to the present time, we must acknowledge that we know nothing more than we can actually see, not one particle more of the moon's history than our telescopes reveal to our corporal eyes!" "in the lucid opinion of the honorable and learned gentleman who spoke last," said ardan, "the chair is compelled to concur. therefore, as to the second question before the house for deliberation, _has the moon been ever inhabited?_ the chair gets out of its difficulty, as a scotch jury does when it has not evidence enough either way, by returning a solemn verdict of _not proven!_" "and with this conclusion," said barbican, hastily rising, "of a subject on which, to tell the truth, we are unable as yet to throw any light worth speaking of, let us be satisfied for the present. another question of greater moment to us just now is: where are we? it seems to me that we are increasing our distance from the moon very decidedly and very rapidly." it was easy to see that he was quite right in this observation. the projectile, still following a northerly course and therefore approaching the lunar equator, was certainly getting farther and farther from the moon. even at 30° s., only ten degrees farther north than the latitude of _tycho_, the travellers had considerable difficulty, comparatively, in observing the details of _pitatus_, a walled mountain on the south shores of the _mare nubium_. in the "sea" itself, over which they now floated, they could see very little, but far to the left, on the 20th parallel, they could discern the vast crater of _bullialdus_, 9,000 feet deep. on the right, they had just caught a glimpse of _purbach_, a depressed valley almost square in shape with a round crater in the centre, when ardan suddenly cried out: "a railroad!" and, sure enough, right under them, a little northeast of _purbach_, the travellers easily distinguished a long line straight and black, really not unlike a railroad cutting through a low hilly country. this, barbican explained, was of course no railway, but a steep cliff, at least 1,000 feet high, casting a very deep shadow, and probably the result of the caving in of the surface on the eastern edge. then they saw the immense crater of _arzachel_ and in its midst a cone mountain shining with dazzling splendor. a little north of this, they could detect the outlines of another crater, _alphonse_, at least 70 miles in diameter. close to it they could easily distinguish the immense crater or, as some observers call it, ramparted plain, _ptolemy_, so well known to lunar astronomers, occupying, as it does, such a favorable position near the centre of the moon, and having a diameter fully, in one direction at least, 120 miles long. the travellers were now in about the same latitude as that at which they had at first approached the moon, and it was here that they began most unquestionably to leave her. they looked and looked, readjusting their glasses, but the details were becoming more and more difficult to catch. the reliefs grew more and more blurred and the outlines dimmer and dimmer. even the great mountain profiles began to fade away, the dazzling colors to grow duller, the jet black shadows greyer, and the general effect mistier. at last, the distance had become so great that, of this lunar world so wonderful, so fantastic, so weird, so mysterious, our travellers by degrees lost even the consciousness, and their sensations, lately so vivid, grew fainter and fainter, until finally they resembled those of a man who is suddenly awakened from a peculiarly strange and impressive dream. chapter xix. in every fight, the impossible wins. no matter what we have been accustomed to, it is sad to bid it farewell forever. the glimpse of the moon's wondrous world imparted to barbican and his companions had been, like that of the promised land to moses on mount pisgah, only a distant and a dark one, yet it was with inexpressibly mournful eyes that, silent and thoughtful, they now watched her fading away slowly from their view, the conviction impressing itself deeper and deeper in their souls that, slight as their acquaintance had been, it was never to be renewed again. all doubt on the subject was removed by the position gradually, but decidedly, assumed by the projectile. its base was turning away slowly and steadily from the moon, and pointing surely and unmistakably towards the earth. barbican had been long carefully noticing this modification, but without being able to explain it. that the projectile should withdraw a long distance from the moon and still be her satellite, he could understand; but, being her satellite, why not present towards her its heaviest segment, as the moon does towards the earth? that was the point which he could not readily clear up. by carefully noting its path, he thought he could see that the projectile, though now decidedly leaving the moon, still followed a curve exactly analogous to that by which it had approached her. it must therefore be describing a very elongated ellipse, which might possibly extend even to the neutral point where the lunar and terrestrial attractions were mutually overcome. with this surmise of barbican's, his companions appeared rather disposed to agree, though, of course, it gave rise to new questions. "suppose we reach this dead point," asked ardan; "what then is to become of us?" "can't tell!" was barbican's unsatisfactory reply. "but you can form a few hypotheses?" "yes, two!" "let us have them." "the velocity will be either sufficient to carry us past the dead point, or it will not: sufficient, we shall keep on, just as we are now, gravitating forever around the moon--" --"hypothesis number two will have at least one point in its favor," interrupted as usual the incorrigible ardan; "it can't be worse than hypothesis number one!" --"insufficient," continued barbican, laying down the law, "we shall rest forever motionless on the dead point of the mutually neutralizing attractions." "a pleasant prospect!" observed ardan: "from the worst possible to no better! isn't it, barbican?" "nothing to say," was barbican's only reply. "have you nothing to say either, captain?" asked ardan, beginning to be a little vexed at the apparent apathy of his companions. "nothing whatever," replied m'nicholl, giving point to his words by a despairing shake of his head. "you don't mean surely that we're going to sit here, like bumps on a log, doing nothing until it will be too late to attempt anything?" "nothing whatever can be done," said barbican gloomily. "it is vain to struggle against the impossible." "impossible! where did you get that word? i thought the american schoolboys had cut it out of their dictionaries!" "that must have been since my time," said barbican smiling grimly. "it still sticks in a few old copies anyhow," drawled m'nicholl drily, as he carefully wiped his glasses. "well! it has no business _here_!" said ardan. "what! a pair of live yankees and a frenchman, of the nineteenth century too, recoil before an old fashioned word that hardly scared our grandfathers!" "what can we do?" "correct the movement that's now running away with us!" "correct it?" "certainly, correct it! or modify it! or clap brakes on it! or take some advantage of it that will be in our favor! what matters the exact term so you comprehend me?" "easy talking!" "as easy doing!" "doing what? doing how?" "the what, and the how, is your business, not mine! what kind of an artillery man is he who can't master his bullets? the gunner who cannot command his own gun should be rammed into it head foremost himself and blown from its mouth! a nice pair of savants _you_ are! there you sit as helpless as a couple of babies, after having inveigled me--" "inveigled!!" cried barbican and m'nicholl starting to their feet in an instant; "what!!!" "come, come!" went on ardan, not giving his indignant friends time to utter a syllable; "i don't want any recrimination! i'm not the one to complain! i'll even let up a little if you consider the expression too strong! i'll even withdraw it altogether, and assert that the trip delights me! that the projectile is a thing after my own heart! that i was never in better spirits than at the present moment! i don't complain, i only appeal to your own good sense, and call upon you with all my voice to do everything possible, so that we may go _somewhere_, since it appears we can't get to the moon!" "but that's exactly what we want to do ourselves, friend ardan," said barbican, endeavoring to give an example of calmness to the impatient m'nicholl; "the only trouble is that we have not the means to do it." "can't we modify the projectile's movement?" "no." "nor diminish its velocity?" "no." "not even by lightening it, as a heavily laden ship is lightened, by throwing cargo overboard?" "what can we throw overboard? we have no ballast like balloon-men." "i should like to know," interrupted m'nicholl, "what would be the good of throwing anything at all overboard. any one with a particle of common sense in his head, can see that the lightened projectile should only move the quicker!" "slower, you mean," said ardan. "quicker, i mean," replied the captain. "neither quicker nor slower, dear friends," interposed barbican, desirous to stop a quarrel; "we are floating, you know, in an absolute void, where specific gravity never counts." "well then, my friends," said ardan in a resigned tone that he evidently endeavored to render calm, "since the worst is come to the worst, there is but one thing left for us to do!" "what's that?" said the captain, getting ready to combat some new piece of nonsense. "to take our breakfast!" said the frenchman curtly. it was a resource he had often fallen back on in difficult conjunctures. nor did it fail him now. though it was not a project that claimed to affect either the velocity or the direction of the projectile, still, as it was eminently practicable and not only unattended by no inconvenience on the one hand but evidently fraught with many advantages on the other, it met with decided and instantaneous success. it was rather an early hour for breakfast, two o'clock in the morning, yet the meal was keenly relished. ardan served it up in charming style and crowned the dessert with a few bottles of a wine especially selected for the occasion from his own private stock. it was a _tokay imperial_ of 1863, the genuine _essenz_, from prince esterhazy's own wine cellar, and the best brain stimulant and brain clearer in the world, as every connoisseur knows. it was near four o'clock in the morning when our travellers, now well fortified physically and morally, once more resumed their observations with renewed courage and determination, and with a system of recording really perfect in its arrangements. around the projectile, they could still see floating most of the objects that had been dropped out of the window. this convinced them that, during their revolution around the moon, they had not passed through any atmosphere; had anything of the kind been encountered, it would have revealed its presence by its retarding effect on the different objects that now followed close in the wake of the projectile. one or two that were missing had been probably struck and carried off by a fragment of the exploded bolide. of the earth nothing as yet could be seen. she was only one day old, having been new the previous evening, and two days were still to elapse before her crescent would be sufficiently cleared of the solar rays to be capable of performing her ordinary duty of serving as a time-piece for the selenites. for, as the reflecting reader need hardly be reminded, since she rotates with perfect regularity on her axis, she can make such rotations visible to the selenites by bringing some particular point on her surface once every twenty-four hours directly over the same lunar meridian. towards the moon, the view though far less distinct, was still almost as dazzling as ever. the radiant queen of night still glittered in all her splendor in the midst of the starry host, whose pure white light seemed to borrow only additional purity and silvery whiteness from the gorgeous contrast. on her disc, the "seas" were already beginning to assume the ashy tint so well known to us on earth, but the rest of her surface sparkled with all its former radiation, _tycho_ glowing like a sun in the midst of the general resplendescence. barbican attempted in vain to obtain even a tolerable approximation of the velocity at which the projectile was now moving. he had to content himself with the knowledge that it was diminishing at a uniform rate--of which indeed a little reflection on a well known law of dynamics readily convinced him. he had not much difficulty even in explaining the matter to his friends. "once admitting," said he, "the projectile to describe an orbit round the moon, that orbit must of necessity be an ellipse. every moving body circulating regularly around another, describes an ellipse. science has proved this incontestably. the satellites describe ellipses around the planets, the planets around the sun, the sun himself describes an ellipse around the unknown star that serves as a pivot for our whole solar system. how can our baltimore gun club projectile then escape the universal law? "now what is the consequence of this law? if the orbit were a _circle_, the satellite would always preserve the same distance from its primary, and its velocity should therefore be constant. but the orbit being an _ellipse_, and the attracting body always occupying one of the foci, the satellite must evidently lie nearer to this focus in one part of its orbit than in another. the earth when nearest to the sun, is in her _perihelion_; when most distant, in her _aphelion_. the moon, with regard to the earth, is similarly in her _perigee_, and her _apogee_. analogous expressions denoting the relations of the projectile towards the moon, would be _periselene_ and _aposelene_. at its _aposelene_ the projectile's velocity would have reached its minimum; at the _periselene_, its maximum. as it is to the former point that we are now moving, clearly the velocity must keep on diminishing until that point is reached. then, _if it does not die out altogether_, it must spring up again, and even accelerate as it reapproaches the moon. now the great trouble is this: if the _aposelenetic_ point should coincide with the point of lunar attraction, our velocity must certainly become _nil_, and the projectile must remain relatively motionless forever!" "what do you mean by 'relatively motionless'?" asked m'nicholl, who was carefully studying the situation. "i mean, of course, not absolutely motionless," answered barbican; "absolute immobility is, as you are well aware, altogether impossible, but motionless with regard to the earth and the--" "by mahomet's jackass!" interrupted ardan hastily, "i must say we're a precious set of _imbéciles_!" "i don't deny it, dear friend," said barbican quietly, notwithstanding the unceremonious interruption; "but why do you say so just now?" "because though we are possessed of the power of retarding the velocity that takes us from the moon, we have never thought of employing it!" "what do you mean?" "do you forget the rockets?" "it's a fact!" cried m'nicholl. "how have we forgotten them?" "i'm sure i can't tell," answered barbican, "unless, perhaps, because we had too many other things to think about. your thought, my dear friend, is a most happy one, and, of course, we shall utilize it." "when? how soon?" "at the first favorable opportunity, not sooner. for you can see for yourselves, dear friends," he went on explaining, "that with the present obliquity of the projectile with regard to the lunar disc, a discharge of our rockets would be more likely to send us away from the moon than towards her. of course, you are both still desirous of reaching the moon?" "most emphatically so!" "then by reserving our rockets for the last chance, we may possibly get there after all. in consequence of some force, to me utterly inexplicable, the projectile still seems disposed to turn its base towards the earth. in fact, it is likely enough that at the neutral point its cone will point vertically to the moon. that being the moment when its velocity will most probably be _nil_, it will also be the moment for us to discharge our rockets, and the possibility is that we may force a direct fall on the lunar disc." "good!" cried ardan, clapping hands. "why didn't we execute this grand manoeuvre the first time we reached the neutral point?" asked m'nicholl a little crustily. "it would be useless," answered barbican; "the projectile's velocity at that time, as you no doubt remember, not only did not need rockets, but was actually too great to be affected by them." "true!" chimed in ardan; "a wind of four miles an hour is very little use to a steamer going ten." "that assertion," cried m'nicholl, "i am rather dis--" --"dear friends," interposed barbican, his pale face beaming and his clear voice ringing with the new excitement; "let us just now waste no time in mere words. we have one more chance, perhaps a great one. let us not throw it away! we have been on the brink of despair--" --"beyond it!" cried ardan. --"but i now begin to see a possibility, nay, a very decided probability, of our being able to attain the great end at last!" "bravo!" cried ardan. "hurrah!" cried m'nicholl. "yes! my brave boys!" cried barbican as enthusiastically as his companions; "all's not over yet by a long shot!" what had brought about this great revulsion in the spirits of our bold adventurers? the breakfast? prince esterhazy's tokay? the latter, most probably. what had become of the resolutions they had discussed so ably and passed so decidedly a few hours before? _was the moon inhabited? no! was the moon habitable? no!_ yet in the face of all this--or rather as coolly as if such subjects had never been alluded to--here were the reckless scientists actually thinking of nothing but how to work heaven and earth in order to get there! one question more remained to be answered before they played their last trump, namely: "at what precise moment would the projectile reach the neutral point?" to this barbican had very little trouble in finding an answer. the time spent in proceeding from the south pole to the dead point being evidently equal to the time previously spent in proceeding from the dead point to the north pole--to ascertain the former, he had only to calculate the latter. this was easily done. to refer to his notes, to check off the different rates of velocity at which they had readied the different parallels, and to turn these rates into time, required only a very few minutes careful calculation. the projectile then was to reach the point of neutral attraction at one o'clock in the morning of december 8th. at the present time, it was five o'clock in the morning of the 7th; therefore, if nothing unforeseen should occur in the meantime, their great and final effort was to be made about twenty hours later. the rockets, so often alluded to as an idea of ardan's and already fully described, had been originally provided to break the violence of the projectile's fall on the lunar surface; but now the dauntless travellers were about to employ them for a purpose precisely the reverse. in any case, having been put in proper order for immediate use, nothing more now remained to be done till the moment should come for firing them off. "now then, friends," said m'nicholl, rubbing his eyes but hardly able to keep them open, "i'm not over fond of talking, but this time i think i may offer a slight proposition." "we shall be most happy to entertain it, my dear captain," said barbican. [illustration: ardan gazed on the pair.] "i propose we lie down and take a good nap." "good gracious!" protested ardan; "what next?" "we have not had a blessed wink for forty hours," continued the captain; "a little sleep would recuperate us wonderfully." "no sleep now!" exclaimed ardan. "every man to his taste!" said m'nicholl; "mine at present is certainly to turn in!" and suiting the action to the word, he coiled himself on the sofa, and in a few minutes his deep regular breathing showed his slumber to be as tranquil as an infant's. barbican looked at him in a kindly way, but only for a very short time; his eyes grew so filmy that he could not keep them open any longer. "the captain," he said, "may not be without his little faults, but for good practical sense he is worth a ship-load like you and me, ardan. by jove, i'm going to imitate him, and, friend michael, you might do worse!" in a short time he was as unconscious as the captain. ardan gazed on the pair for a few minutes, and then began to feel quite lonely. even his animals were fast asleep. he tried to look out, but observing without having anybody to listen to your observations, is dull work. he looked again at the sleeping pair, and then he gave in. "it can't be denied," he muttered, slowly nodding his head, "that even your practical men sometimes stumble on a good idea." then curling up his long legs, and folding his arms under his head, his restless brain was soon forming fantastic shapes for itself in the mysterious land of dreams. but his slumbers were too much disturbed to last long. after an uneasy, restless, unrefreshing attempt at repose, he sat up at about half-past seven o'clock, and began stretching himself, when he found his companions already awake and discussing the situation in whispers. the projectile, they were remarking, was still pursuing its way from the moon, and turning its conical point more and more in her direction. this latter phenomenon, though as puzzling as ever, barbican regarded with decided pleasure: the more directly the conical summit pointed to the moon at the exact moment, the more directly towards her surface would the rockets communicate their reactionary motion. nearly seventeen hours, however, were still to elapse before that moment, that all important moment, would arrive. the time began to drag. the excitement produced by the moon's vicinity had died out. our travellers, though as daring and as confident as ever, could not help feeling a certain sinking of heart at the approach of the moment for deciding either alternative of their doom in this world--their fall to the moon, or their eternal imprisonment in a changeless orbit. barbican and m'nicholl tried to kill time by revising their calculations and putting their notes in order; ardan, by feverishly walking back and forth from window to window, and stopping for a second or two to throw a nervous glance at the cold, silent and impassive moon. now and then reminiscences of our lower world would flit across their brains. visions of the famous gun club rose up before them the oftenest, with their dear friend marston always the central figure. what was his bustling, honest, good-natured, impetuous heart at now? most probably he was standing bravely at his post on the rocky mountains, his eye glued to the great telescope, his whole soul peering through its tube. had he seen the projectile before it vanished behind the moon's north pole? could he have caught a glimpse of it at its reappearance? if so, could he have concluded it to be the satellite of a satellite! could belfast have announced to the world such a startling piece of intelligence? was that all the earth was ever to know of their great enterprise? what were the speculations of the scientific world upon the subject? etc., etc. in listless questions and desultory conversation of this kind the day slowly wore away, without the occurrence of any incident whatever to relieve its weary monotony. midnight arrived, december the seventh was dead. as ardan said: "_le sept decembre est mort; vive le huit!_" in one hour more, the neutral point would be reached. at what velocity was the projectile now moving? barbican could not exactly tell, but he felt quite certain that no serious error had slipped into his calculations. at one o'clock that night, _nil_ the velocity was to be, and _nil_ it would be! another phenomenon, in any case, was to mark the arrival of the exact moment. at the dead point, the two attractions, terrestrial and lunar, would again exactly counterbalance each other. for a few seconds, objects would no longer possess the slightest weight. this curious circumstance, which had so much surprised and amused the travellers at its first occurrence, was now to appear again as soon as the conditions should become identical. during these few seconds then would come the moment for striking the decisive blow. they could soon notice the gradual approach of this important instant. objects began to weigh sensibly lighter. the conical point of the projectile had become almost directly under the centre of the lunar surface. this gladdened the hearts of the bold adventurers. the recoil of the rockets losing none of its power by oblique action, the chances pronounced decidedly in their favor. now, only supposing the projectile's velocity to be absolutely annihilated at the dead point, the slightest force directing it towards the moon would be _certain_ to cause it finally to fall on her surface. supposing!--but supposing the contrary! --even these brave adventurers had not the courage to suppose the contrary! "five minutes to one o'clock," said m'nicholl, his eyes never quitting his watch. "ready?" asked barbican of ardan. "ay, ay, sir!" was ardan's reply, as he made sure that the electric apparatus to discharge the rockets was in perfect working order. "wait till i give the word," said barbican, pulling out his chronometer. the moment was now evidently close at hand. the objects lying around had no weight. the travellers felt their bodies to be as buoyant as a hydrogen balloon. barbican let go his chronometer, but it kept its place as firmly in empty space before his eyes as if it had been nailed to the wall! "one o'clock!" cried barbican in a solemn tone. ardan instantly touched the discharging key of the little electric battery. a dull, dead, distant report was immediately heard, communicated probably by the vibration of the projectile to the internal air. but ardan saw through the window a long thin flash, which vanished in a second. at the same moment, the three friends became instantaneously conscious of a slight shock experienced by the projectile. they looked at each other, speechless, breathless, for about as long as it would take you to count five: the silence so intense that they could easily hear the pulsation of their hearts. ardan was the first to break it. "are we falling or are we not?" he asked in a loud whisper. "we're not!" answered m'nicholl, also hardly speaking above his breath. "the base of the projectile is still turned away as far as ever from the moon!" barbican, who had been looking out of the window, now turned hastily towards his companions. his face frightened them. he was deadly pale; his eyes stared, and his lips were painfully contracted. "we _are_ falling!" he shrieked huskily. "towards the moon?" exclaimed his companions. "no!" was the terrible reply. "towards the earth!" "_sacré!_" cried ardan, as usually letting off his excitement in french. "fire and fury!" cried m'nicholl, completely startled out of his habitual _sang froid_. "thunder and lightning!" swore the usually serene barbican, now completely stunned by the blow. "i had never expected this!" ardan was the first to recover from the deadening shock: his levity came to his relief. "first impressions are always right," he muttered philosophically. "the moment i set eyes on the confounded thing, it reminded me of the bastille; it is now proving its likeness to a worse place: easy enough to get into, but no redemption out of it!" there was no longer any doubt possible on the subject. the terrible fall had begun. the projectile had retained velocity enough not only to carry it beyond the dead point, but it was even able to completely overcome the feeble resistance offered by the rockets. it was all clear now. the same velocity that had carried the projectile beyond the neutral point on its way to the moon, was still swaying it on its return to the earth. a well known law of motion required that, in the path which it was now about to describe, _it should repass, on its return through all the points through which it had already passed during its departure_. no wonder that our friends were struck almost senseless when the fearful fall they were now about to encounter, flashed upon them in all its horror. they were to fall a clear distance of nearly 200 thousand miles! to lighten or counteract such a descent, the most powerful springs, checks, rockets, screens, deadeners, even if the whole earth were engaged in their construction--would produce no more effect than so many spiderwebs. according to a simple law in ballistics, _the projectile was to strike the earth with a velocity equal to that by which it had been animated when issuing from the mouth of the columbiad_--a velocity of at least seven miles a second! to have even a faint idea of this enormous velocity, let us make a little comparison. a body falling from the summit of a steeple a hundred and fifty feet high, dashes against the pavement with a velocity of fifty five miles an hour. falling from the summit of st. peter's, it strikes the earth at the rate of 300 miles an hour, or five times quicker than the rapidest express train. falling from the neutral point, the projectile should strike the earth with a velocity of more than 25,000 miles an hour! "we are lost!" said m'nicholl gloomily, his philosophy yielding to despair. "one consolation, boys!" cried ardan, genial to the last. "we shall die together!" "if we die," said barbican calmly, but with a kind of suppressed enthusiasm, "it will be only to remove to a more extended sphere of our investigations. in the other world, we can pursue our inquiries under far more favorable auspices. there the wonders of our great creator, clothed in brighter light, shall be brought within a shorter range. we shall require no machine, nor projectile, nor material contrivance of any kind to be enabled to contemplate them in all their grandeur and to appreciate them fully and intelligently. our souls, enlightened by the emanations of the eternal wisdom, shall revel forever in the blessed rays of eternal knowledge!" "a grand view to take of it, dear friend barbican;" replied ardan, "and a consoling one too. the privilege of roaming at will through god's great universe should make ample amends for missing the moon!" m'nicholl fixed his eyes on barbican admiringly, feebly muttering with hardly moving lips: "grit to the marrow! grit to the marrow!" barbican, head bowed in reverence, arms folded across his breast, meekly and uncomplainingly uttered with sublime resignation: "thy will be done!" "amen!" answered his companions, in a loud and fervent whisper. * * * * * they were soon falling through the boundless regions of space with inconceivable rapidity! chapter xx. off the pacific coast. "well, lieutenant, how goes the sounding?" "pretty lively, captain; we're nearly through;" replied the lieutenant. "but it's a tremendous depth so near land. we can't be more than 250 miles from the california coast." "the depression certainly is far deeper than i had expected," observed captain bloomsbury. "we have probably lit on a submarine valley channelled out by the japanese current." "the japanese current, captain?" "certainly; that branch of it which breaks on the western shores of north america and then flows southeast towards the isthmus of panama." "that may account for it, captain," replied young brownson; "at least, i hope it does, for then we may expect the valley to get shallower as we leave the land. so far, there's no sign of a telegraphic plateau in this quarter of the globe." "probably not, brownson. how is the line now?" "we have paid out 3500 fathoms already, captain, but, judging from the rate the reel goes at, we are still some distance from bottom." as he spoke, he pointed to a tall derrick temporarily rigged up at the stern of the vessel for the purpose of working the sounding apparatus, and surrounded by a group of busy men. through a block pulley strongly lashed to the derrick, a stout cord of the best italian hemp, wound off a large reel placed amidships, was now running rapidly and with a slight whirring noise. "i hope it's not the 'cup-lead' you are using, brownson?" said the captain, after a few minutes observation. "oh no, captain, certainly not," replied the lieutenant. "it's only brooke's apparatus that is of any use in such depths." "clever fellow that brooke," observed the captain; "served with him under maury. his detachment of the weight is really the starting point for every new improvement in sounding gear. the english, the french, and even our own, are nothing but modifications of that fundamental principle. exceedingly clever fellow!" "bottom!" sang out one of the men standing near the derrick and watching the operations. the captain and the lieutenant immediately advanced to question him. "what's the depth, coleman?" asked the lieutenant. "21,762 feet," was the prompt reply, which brownson immediately inscribed in his note-book, handing a duplicate to the captain. "all right, lieutenant," observed the captain, after a moment's inspection of the figures. "while i enter it in the log, you haul the line aboard. to do so, i need hardly remind you, is a task involving care and patience. in spite of all our gallant little donkey engine can do, it's a six hours job at least. meanwhile, the chief engineer had better give orders for firing up, so that we may be ready to start as soon as you're through. it's now close on to four bells, and with your permission i shall turn in. let me be called at three. good night!" "goodnight, captain!" replied brownson, who spent the next two hours pacing backward and forward on the quarter deck, watching the hauling in of the sounding line, and occasionally casting a glance towards all quarters of the sky. it was a glorious night. the innumerable stars glittered with the brilliancy of the purest gems. the ship, hove to in order to take the soundings, swung gently on the faintly heaving ocean breast. you felt you were in a tropical clime, for, though no breath fanned your cheek, your senses easily detected the delicious odor of a distant garden of sweet roses. the sea sparkled with phosphorescence. not a sound was heard except the panting of the hard-worked little donkey-engine and the whirr of the line as it came up taut and dripping from the ocean depths. the lamp, hanging from the mast, threw a bright glare on deck, presenting the strongest contrast with the black shadows, firm and motionless as marble. the 11th day of december was now near its last hour. the steamer was the _susquehanna_, a screw, of the united states navy, 4,000 in tonnage, and carrying 20 guns. she had been detached to take soundings between the pacific coast and the sandwich islands, the initiatory movement towards laying down an ocean cable, which the _pacific cable company_ contemplated finally extending to china. she lay just now a few hundred miles directly south of san diego, an old spanish town in southwestern california, and the point which is expected to be the terminus of the great _texas and pacific railroad_. the captain, john bloomsbury by name, but better known as 'high-low jack' from his great love of that game--the only one he was ever known to play--was a near relation of our old friend colonel bloomsbury of the baltimore gun club. of a good kentucky family, and educated at annapolis, he had passed his meridian without ever being heard of, when suddenly the news that he had run the gauntlet in a little gunboat past the terrible batteries of island number ten, amidst a perfect storm of shell, grape and canister discharged at less than a hundred yards distance, burst on the american nation on the sixth of april, 1862, and inscribed his name at once in deep characters on the list of the giants of the great war. but war had never been his vocation. with the return of peace, he had sought and obtained employment on the western coast survey, where every thing he did he looked on as a labor of love. the sounding expedition he had particularly coveted, and, once entered upon it, he discharged his duties with characteristic energy. he could not have had more favorable weather than the present for a successful performance of the nice and delicate investigations of sounding. his vessel had even been fortunate enough to have lain altogether out of the track of the terrible wind storm already alluded to, which, starting from somewhere southwest of the sierra madre, had swept away every vestige of mist from the summits of the rocky mountains and, by revealing the moon in all her splendor, had enabled belfast to send the famous despatch announcing that he had seen the projectile. every feature of the expedition was, in fact, advancing so favorably that the captain expected to be able, in a month or two, to submit to the _p.c. company_ a most satisfactory report of his labors. cyrus w. field, the life and soul of the whole enterprise, flushed with honors still in full bloom (the atlantic telegraph cable having been just laid), could congratulate himself with good reason on having found a treasure in the captain. high-low jack was the congenial spirit by whose active and intelligent aid he promised himself the pleasure of seeing before long the whole pacific ocean covered with a vast reticulation of electric cables. the practical part, therefore, being in such safe hands, mr. field could remain with a quiet conscience in washington, new york or london, seeing after the financial part of the grand undertaking, worthy of the nineteenth century, worthy of the great republic, and eminently worthy of the illustrious cyrus w. himself! as already mentioned, the _susquehanna_ lay a few hundred miles south of san diego, or, to be more accurate, in 27° 7' north latitude and 118° 37' west longitude (greenwich). it was now a little past midnight. the moon, in her last quarter, was just beginning to peep over the eastern horizon. lieutenant brownson, leaving the quarter deck, had gone to the forecastle, where he found a crowd of officers talking together earnestly and directing their glasses towards her disc. even here, out on the ocean, the queen of the night, was as great an object of attraction as on the north american continent generally, where, that very night and that very hour, at least 40 million pairs of eyes were anxiously gazing at her. apparently forgetful that even the very best of their glasses could no more see the projectile than angulate sirius, the officers held them fast to their eyes for five minutes at a time, and then took them away only to talk with remarkable fluency on what they had not discovered. "any sign of them yet, gentlemen?" asked brownson gaily as he joined the group. "it's now pretty near time for them to put in an appearance. they're gone ten days i should think." "they're there, lieutenant! not a doubt of it!" cried a young midshipman, fresh from annapolis, and of course "throughly posted" in the latest revelations of astronomy. "i feel as certain of their being there as i am of our being here on the forecastle of the _susquehanna_!" "i must agree with you of course, mr. midshipman," replied brownson with a slight smile; "i have no grounds whatever for contradicting you." "neither have i," observed another officer, the surgeon of the vessel. "the projectile was to have reached the moon when at her full, which was at midnight on the 5th. to-day was the 11th. this gives them six days of clear light--time enough in all conscience not only to land safely but to install themselves quite comfortably in their new home. in fact, i see them there already--" "in my mind's eye, horatio!" laughed one of the group. "though the doc wears glasses, he can see more than any ten men on board." --"already"--pursued the doctor, heedless of the interruption. "_scene_, a stony valley near a selenite stream; the projectile on the right, half buried in volcanic _scoriae_, but apparently not much the worse for the wear; ring mountains, craters, sharp peaks, etc. all around; old mac discovered taking observations with his levelling staff; barbican perched on the summit of a sharp pointed rock, writing up his note-book; ardan, eye-glass on nose, hat under arm, legs apart, puffing at his _imperador_, like a--" [illustration: mac discovered taking observations.] --"a locomotive!" interrupted the young midshipman, his excitable imagination so far getting the better of him as to make him forget his manners. he had just finished locke's famous moon hoax, and his brain was still full of its pictures. "in the background," he went on, "can be seen thousands of _vespertiliones-homines_ or _man-bats_, in all the various attitudes of curiosity, alarm, or consternation; some of them peeping around the rocks, some fluttering from peak to peak, all gibbering a language more or less resembling the notes of birds. _enter_ lunatico, king of the selenites--" "excuse us, mr. midshipman," interrupted brownson with an easy smile, "locke's authority may have great weight among the young middies at annapolis, but it does not rank very high at present in the estimation of practical scientists." this rebuff administered to the conceited little midshipman, a rebuff which the doctor particularly relished, brownson continued: "gentlemen, we certainly know nothing whatever regarding our friends' fate; guessing gives no information. how we ever are to hear from the moon until we are connected with it by a lunar cable, i can't even imagine. the probability is that we shall never--" "excuse me, lieutenant," interrupted the unrebuffed little midshipman; "can't barbican write?" a shout of derisive comments greeted this question. "certainly he can write, and send his letter by the pony express!" cried one. "a postal card would be cheaper!" cried another. "the _new york herald_ will send a reporter after it!" was the exclamation of a third. "keep cool, just keep cool, gentlemen," persisted the little midshipman, not in the least abashed by the uproarious hilarity excited by his remarks. "i asked if barbican couldn't write. in that question i see nothing whatever to laugh at. can't a man write without being obliged to send his letters?" "this is all nonsense," said the doctor. "what's the use of a man writing to you if he can't send you what he writes?" "what's the use of his sending it to you if he can have it read without that trouble?" answered the little midshipman in a confident tone. "is there not a telescope at long's peak? doesn't it bring the moon within a few miles of the rocky mountains, and enable us to see on her surface, objects as small as nine feet in diameter? well! what's to prevent barbican and his friends from constructing a gigantic alphabet? if they write words of even a few hundred yards and sentences a mile or two long, what is to prevent us from reading them? catch the idea now, eh?" they did catch the idea, and heartily applauded the little middy for his smartness. even the doctor saw a certain kind of merit in it, and brownson acknowledged it to be quite feasible. in fact, expanding on it, the lieutenant assured his hearers that, by means of large parabolic reflectors, luminous groups of rays could be dispatched from the earth, of sufficient brightness to establish direct communication even with venus or mars, where these rays would be quite as visible as the planet neptune is from the earth. he even added that those brilliant points of light, which have been quite frequently observed in mars and venus, are perhaps signals made to the earth by the inhabitants of these planets. he concluded, however, by observing that, though we might by these means succeed in obtaining news from the moon, we could not possibly send any intelligence back in return, unless indeed the selenites had at their disposal optical instruments at least as good as ours. all agreed that this was very true, and, as is generally the case when one keeps all the talk to himself, the conversation now assumed so serious a turn that for some time it was hardly worth recording. at last the chief engineer, excited by some remark that had been made, observed with much earnestness: "you may say what you please, gentlemen, but i would willingly give my last dollar to know what has become of those brave men! have they done anything? have they seen anything? i hope they have. but i should dearly like to know. ever so little success would warrant a repetition of the great experiment. the columbiad is still to the good in florida, as it will be for many a long day. there are millions of men to day as curious as i am upon the subject. therefore it will be only a question of mere powder and bullets if a cargo of visitors is not sent to the moon every time she passes our zenith. "marston would be one of the first of them," observed brownson, lighting his cigar. "oh, he would have plenty of company!" cried the midshipman. "i should be delighted to go if he'd only take me." "no doubt you would, mr. midshipman," said brownson, "the wise men, you know, are not all dead yet." "nor the fools either, lieutenant," growled old frisby, the fourth officer, getting tired of the conversation. "there is no question at all about it," observed another; "every time a projectile started, it would take off as many as it could carry." "i wish it would only start often enough to improve the breed!" growled old frisby. "i have no doubt whatever," added the chief engineer, "that the thing would get so fashionable at last that half the inhabitants of the earth would take a trip to the moon." "i should limit that privilege strictly to some of our friends in washington," said old frisby, whose temper had been soured probably by a neglect to recognize his long services; "and most of them i should by all means insist on sending to the moon. every month i would ram a whole raft of them into the columbiad, with a charge under them strong enough to blow them all to the--but--hey!--what in creation's that?" [illustration: for a second only did they catch its flash.] whilst the officer was speaking, his companions had suddenly caught a sound in the air which reminded them immediately of the whistling scream of a lancaster shell. at first they thought the steam was escaping somewhere, but, looking upwards, they saw that the strange noise proceeded from a ball of dazzling brightness, directly over their heads, and evidently falling towards them with tremendous velocity. too frightened to say a word, they could only see that in its light the whole ship blazed like fireworks, and the whole sea glittered like a silver lake. quicker than tongue can utter, or mind can conceive, it flashed before their eyes for a second, an enormous bolide set on fire by friction with the atmosphere, and gleaming in its white heat like a stream of molten iron gushing straight from the furnace. for a second only did they catch its flash before their eyes; then striking the bowsprit of the vessel, which it shivered into a thousand pieces, it vanished in the sea in an instant with a hiss, a scream, and a roar, all equally indescribable. for some time the utmost confusion reigned on deck. with eyes too dazzled to see, ears still ringing with the frightful combination of unearthly sounds, faces splashed with floods of sea water, and noses stifled with clouds of scalding steam, the crew of the _susquehanna_ could hardly realize that their marvellous escape by a few feet from instant and certain destruction was an accomplished fact, not a frightful dream. they were still engaged in trying to open their eyes and to get the hot water out of their ears, when they suddenly heard the trumpet voice of captain bloomsbury crying, as he stood half dressed on the head of the cabin stairs: "what's up, gentlemen? in heaven's name, what's up?" the little midshipman had been knocked flat by the concussion and stunned by the uproar. but before any body else could reply, his voice was heard, clear and sharp, piercing the din like an arrow: "it's they, captain! didn't i tell you so?" chapter xxi. news for marston! in a few minutes, consciousness had restored order on board the _susquehanna_, but the excitement was as great as ever. they had escaped by a hairsbreadth the terrible fate of being both burned and drowned without a moment's warning, without a single soul being left alive to tell the fatal tale; but on this neither officer nor man appeared to bestow the slightest thought. they were wholly engrossed with the terrible catastrophe that had befallen the famous adventurers. what was the loss of the _susquehanna_ and all it contained, in comparison to the loss experienced by the world at large in the terrible tragic _dénouement_ just witnessed? the worst had now come to the worst. at last the long agony was over forever. those three gallant men, who had not only conceived but had actually executed the grandest and most daring enterprise of ancient or modern times, had paid by the most fearful of deaths, for their sublime devotion to science and their unselfish desire to extend the bounds of human knowledge! before such a reflection as this, all other considerations were at once reduced to proportions of the most absolute insignificance. but was the death of the adventurers so very certain after all? hope is hard to kill. consciousness had brought reflection, reflection doubt, and doubt had resuscitated hope. "it's they!" had exclaimed the little midshipman, and the cry had thrilled every heart on board as with an electric shock. everybody had instantly understood it. everybody had felt it to be true. nothing could be more certain than that the meteor which had just flashed before their eyes was the famous projectile of the baltimore gun club. nothing could be truer than that it contained the three world renowned men and that it now lay in the black depths of the pacific ocean. but here opinions began to diverge. some courageous breasts soon refused to accept the prevalent idea. "they're killed by the shock!" cried the crowd. "killed?" exclaimed the hopeful ones; "not a bit of it! the water here is deep enough to break a fall twice as great." "they're smothered for want of air!" exclaimed the crowd. "their stock may not be run out yet!" was the ready reply. "their air apparatus is still on hand." "they're burned to a cinder!" shrieked the crowd. "they had not time to be burned!" answered the band of hope. "the projectile did not get hot till it reached the atmosphere, through which it tore in a few seconds." "if they're neither burned nor smothered nor killed by the shock, they're sure to be drowned!" persisted the crowd, with redoubled lamentations. "fish 'em up first!" cried the hopeful band. "come! let's lose no time! let's fish 'em up at once!" the cries of hope prevailed. the unanimous opinion of a council of the officers hastily summoned together by the captain was to go to work and fish up the projectile with the least possible delay. but was such an operation possible? asked a doubter. yes! was the overwhelming reply; difficult, no doubt, but still quite possible. certainly, however, such an attempt was not immediately possible as the _susquehanna_ had no machinery strong enough or suitable enough for a piece of work involving such a nicety of detailed operations, not to speak of its exceeding difficulty. the next unanimous decision, therefore, was to start the vessel at once for the nearest port, whence they could instantly telegraph the projectile's arrival to the baltimore gun club. but what _was_ the nearest port? a serious question, to answer which in a satisfactory manner the captain had to carefully examine his sailing charts. the neighboring shores of the california peninsula, low and sandy, were absolutely destitute of good harbors. san diego, about a day's sail directly north, possessed an excellent harbor, but, not yet having telegraphic communication with the rest of the union, it was of course not to be thought of. san pedro bay was too open to be approached in winter. the santa barbara channel was liable to the same objection, not to mention the trouble often caused by kelp and wintry fogs. the bay of san luis obispo was still worse in every respect; having no islands to act as a breakwater, landing there in winter was often impossible. the harbor of the picturesque old town of monterey was safe enough, but some uncertainty regarding sure telegraphic communications with san francisco, decided the council not to venture it. half moon bay, a little to the north, would be just as risky, and in moments like the present when every minute was worth a day, no risk involving the slightest loss of time could be ventured. evidently, therefore, the most advisable plan was to sail directly for the bay of san francisco, the golden gate, the finest harbor on the pacific coast and one of the safest in the world. here telegraphic communication with all parts of the union was assured beyond a doubt. san francisco, about 750 miles distant, the _susquehanna_ could probably make in three days; with a little increased pressure, possibly in two days and a-half. the sooner then she started, the better. the fires were soon in full blast. the vessel could get under weigh at once. in fact, nothing delayed immediate departure but the consideration that two miles of sounding line were still to be hauled up from the ocean depths. rut the captain, after a moment's thought, unwilling that any more time should be lost, determined to cut it. then marking its position by fastening its end to a buoy, he could haul it up at his leisure on his return. "besides," said he, "the buoy will show us the precise spot where the projectile fell." "as for that, captain," observed brownson, "the exact spot has been carefully recorded already: 27° 7' north latitude by 41° 37' west longitude, reckoning from the meridian of washington." "all right, lieutenant," said the captain curtly. "cut the line!" a large cone-shaped metal buoy, strengthened still further by a couple of stout spars to which it was securely lashed, was soon rigged up on deck, whence, being hoisted overboard, the whole apparatus was carefully lowered to the surface of the sea. by means of a ring in the small end of the buoy, the latter was then solidly attached to the part of the sounding line that still remained in the water, and all possible precautions were taken to diminish the danger of friction, caused by the contrary currents, tidal waves, and the ordinary heaving swells of ocean. it was now a little after three o'clock in the morning. the chief engineer announced everything to be in perfect readiness for starting. the captain gave the signal, directing the pilot to steer straight for san francisco, north-north by west. the waters under the stern began to boil and foam; the ship very soon felt and yielded to the power that animated her; and in a few minutes she was making at least twelve knots an hour. her sailing powers were somewhat higher than this, but it was necessary to be careful in the neighborhood of such a dangerous coast as that of california. seven hundred and fifty miles of smooth waters presented no very difficult task to a fast traveller like the _susquehanna_, yet it was not till two days and a-half afterwards that she sighted the golden gate. as usual, the coast was foggy; neither point lobos nor point boneta could be seen. but captain bloomsbury, well acquainted with every portion of this coast, ran as close along the southern shore as he dared, the fog-gun at point boneta safely directing his course. here expecting to be able to gain a few hours time by signalling to the outer telegraph station on point lobos, he had caused to be painted on a sail in large black letters: "the moonmen are back!" but the officers in attendance, though their fog-horn could be easily heard--the distance not being quite two miles--were unfortunately not able to see it. perhaps they did see it, but feared a hoax. giving the fort point a good wide berth, the _susquehanna_ found the fog gradually clearing away, and by half-past three the passengers, looking under it, enjoyed the glorious view of the contra costa mountains east of san francisco, which had obtained for this entrance the famous and well deserved appellation of the golden gate. in another half hour, they had doubled black point, and were lying safely at anchor between the islands of alcatraz and yerba buena. in less than five minutes afterwards the captain was quickly lowered into his gig, and eight stout pairs of arms were pulling him rapidly to shore. the usual crowd of idlers had collected that evening on the summit of telegraph hill to enjoy the magnificent view, which for variety, extent, beauty and grandeur, is probably unsurpassed on earth. of course, the inevitable reporter, hot after an item, was not absent. the _susquehanna_ had hardly crossed the bar, when they caught sight of her. a government vessel entering the bay at full speed, is something to look at even in san francisco. even during the war, it would be considered rather unusual. but they soon remarked that her bowsprit was completely broken off. _very_ unusual. something decidedly is the matter. see! the vessel is hardly anchored when the captain leaves her and makes for megg's wharf at north point as hard as ever his men can pull! something _must_ be the matter--and down the steep hill they all rush as fast as ever their legs can carry them to the landing at megg's wharf. the captain could hardly force his way through the dense throng, but he made no attempt whatever to gratify their ill dissembled curiosity. "carriage!" he cried, in a voice seldom heard outside the din of battle. in a moment seventeen able-bodied cabmen were trying to tear him limb from limb. "to the telegraph office! like lightning!" were his stifled mutterings, as he struggled in the arms of the irish giant who had at last succeeded in securing him. "to the telegraph office!" cried most of the crowd, running after him like fox hounds, but the more knowing ones immediately began questioning the boatmen in the captain's gig. these honest fellows, nothing loth to tell all that they knew and more that they invented, soon had the satisfaction of finding themselves the centrepoint of a wonder stricken audience, greedily swallowing up every item of the extraordinary news and still hungrily gaping for more. by this time, however, an important dispatch was flying east, bearing four different addresses: to the secretary of the u.s. navy, washington; to colonel joseph wilcox, vice-president _pro tem._, baltimore gun club, md; to j.t. marston, esq. long's peak, grand county, colorado; and to professor wenlock, sub-director of the cambridge observatory, mass. this dispatch read as follows: "in latitude twenty-seven degrees seven minutes north and longitude forty-one degrees thirty-seven minutes west shortly after one o'clock on the morning of twelfth instant columbiad projectile fell in pacific--send instructions- bloomsbury, _captain_, susquehanna." in five minutes more all san francisco had the news. an hour later, the newspaper boys were shrieking it through the great cities of the states. before bed-time every man, woman, and child in the country had heard it and gone into ecstasies over it. owing to the difference in longitude, the people of europe could not hear it till after midnight. but next morning the astounding issue of the great american enterprise fell on them like a thunder clap. we must, of course, decline all attempts at describing the effects of this most unexpected intelligence on the world at large. the secretary of the navy immediately telegraphed directions to the _susquehanna_ to keep a full head of steam up night and day so as to be ready to give instant execution to orders received at any moment. the observatory authorities at cambridge held a special meeting that very evening, where, with all the serene calmness so characteristic of learned societies, they discussed the scientific points of the question in all its bearings. but, before committing themselves to any decided opinion, they unanimously resolved to wait for the development of further details. at the rooms of the gun club in baltimore there was a terrible time. the kind reader no doubt remembers the nature of the dispatch sent one day previously by professor belfast from the long's peak observatory, announcing that the projectile had been seen but that it had become the moon's satellite, destined to revolve around her forever and ever till time should be no more. the reader is also kindly aware by this time that such dispatch was not supported by the slightest foundations in fact. the learned professor, in a moment of temporary cerebral excitation, to which even the greatest scientist is just as liable as the rest of us, had taken some little meteor or, still more probably, some little fly-speck in the telescope for the projectile. the worst of it was that he had not only boldly proclaimed his alleged discovery to the world at large but he had even explained all about it with the well known easy pomposity that "science" sometimes ventures to assume. the consequences of all this may be readily guessed. the baltimore gun club had split up immediately into two violently opposed parties. those gentlemen who regularly conned the scientific magazines, took every word of the learned professor's dispatch for gospel--or rather for something of far higher value, and more strictly in accordance with the highly advanced scientific developments of the day. but the others, who never read anything but the daily papers and who could not bear the idea of losing barbican, laughed the whole thing to scorn. belfast, they said, had seen as much of the projectile as he had of the "open polar sea," and the rest of the dispatch was mere twaddle, though asserted with all the sternness of a religious dogma and enveloped in the usual scientific slang. the meeting held in the club house, 24 monument square, baltimore, on the evening of the 13th, had been therefore disorderly in the highest degree. long before the appointed hour, the great hall was densely packed and the greatest uproar prevailed. vice-president wilcox took the chair, and all was comparatively quiet until colonel bloomsbury, the honorary secretary in marston's absence, commenced to read belfast's dispatch. then the scene, according to the account given in the next day's _sun_, from whose columns we condense our report, actually "beggared description." roars, yells, cheers, counter-cheers, clappings, hissings, stampings, squallings, whistlings, barkings, mewings, cock crowings, all of the most fearful and demoniacal character, turned the immense hall into a regular pandemonium. in vain did president wilcox fire off his detonating bell, with a report on ordinary occasions as loud as the roar of a small piece of ordnance. in the dreadful noise then prevailing it was no more heard than the fizz of a lucifer match. some cries, however, made themselves occasionally heard in the pauses of the din. "read! read!" "dry up!" "sit down!" "give him an egg!" "fair play!" "hurrah for barbican!" "down with his enemies!" "free speech!" "belfast won't bite you!" "he'd like to bite barbican, but his teeth aren't sharp enough!" "barbican's a martyr to science, let's hear his fate!" "martyr be hanged; the old man is to the good yet!" "belfast is the grandest name in science!" "groans for the grandest name!" (awful groans.) "three cheers for old man barbican!" (the exceptional strength alone of the walls saved the building, from being blown out by an explosion in which at least 5,000 pairs of lungs participated.) "three cheers for m'nicholl and the frenchman!" this was followed by another burst of cheering so hearty, vigorous and long continued that the scientific party, or _belfasters_ as they were now called, seeing that further prolongation of the meet was perfectly useless, moved to adjourn. it was carried unanimously. president wilcox left the chair, the meeting broke up in the wildest disorder--the scientists rather crest fallen, but the barbican men quite jubilant for having been so successful in preventing the reading of that detested dispatch. little sleeping was done that night in baltimore, and less business next day. even in the public schools so little work was done by the children that s.t. wallace, esq., president of the education board, advised an anticipation of the usual christmas recess by a week. every one talked of the projectile; nothing was heard at the corners but discussions regarding its probable fate. all baltimore was immediately rent into two parties, the _belfasters_ and the _barbicanites_. the latter was the most enthusiastic and noisy, the former decidedly the most numerous and influential. science, or rather pseudo-science, always exerts a mysterious attraction of an exceedingly powerful nature over the generality--that is, the more ignorant portion of the human race. assert the most absurd nonsense, call it a scientific truth, and back it up with strange words which, like _potentiality_, etc., sound as if they had a meaning but in reality have none, and nine out of every ten men who read your book will believe you. acquire a remarkable name in one branch of human knowledge, and presto! you are infallible in all. who can contradict you, if you only wrap up your assertions in specious phrases that not one man in a million attempts to ascertain the real meaning of? we like so much to be saved the trouble of thinking, that it is far easier and more comfortable to be led than to contradict, to fall in quietly with the great flock of sheep that jump blindly after their leader than to remain apart, making one's self ridiculous by foolishly attempting to argue. real argument, in fact, is very difficult, for several reasons: first, you must understand your subject _well_, which is hardly likely; secondly, your opponent must also understand it well, which is even less likely; thirdly, you must listen patiently to his arguments, which is still less likely; and fourthly, he must listen to yours, the least likely of all. if a quack advertises a panacea for all human ills at a dollar a bottle, a hundred will buy the bottle, for one that will try how many are killed by it. what would the investigator gain by charging the quack with murder? nobody would believe him, because nobody would take the trouble to follow his arguments. his adversary, first in the field, had gained the popular ear, and remained the unassailable master of the situation. our love of "science" rests upon our admiration of intellect, only unfortunately the intellect is too often that of other people, not our own. the very sound of belfast's phrases, for instance, "satellite," "lunar attraction," "immutable path of its orbit," etc, convinced the greater part of the "intelligent" community that he who used them so flippantly must be an exceedingly great man. therefore, he had completely proved his case. therefore, the great majority of the ladies and gentlemen that regularly attend the scientific lectures of the peabody institute, pronounced barbican's fate and that of his companions to be sealed. next morning's newspapers contained lengthy obituary notices of the great balloon-attics as the witty man of the _new york herald_ phrased it, some of which might be considered quite complimentary. these, all industriously copied into the evening papers, the people were carefully reading over again, some with honest regret, some deriving a great moral lesson from an attempt exceedingly reprehensible in every point of view, but most, we are sorry to acknowledge, with a feeling of ill concealed pleasure. had not they always said how it was to end? was there anything more absurd ever conceived? scientific men too! hang such science! if you want a real scientific man, no wind bag, no sham, take belfast! _he_ knows what he's talking about! no taking _him_ in! didn't he by means of the monster telescope, see the projectile, as large as life, whirling round and round the moon? anyway, what else could have happened? wasn't it what anybody's common sense expected? don't you remember a conversation we had with you one day? etc., etc. the _barbicanites_ were very doleful, but they never though of giving in. they would die sooner. when pressed for a scientific reply to a scientific argument, they denied that there was any argument to reply to. what! had not belfast seen the projectile? no! was not the great telescope then good for anything? yes, but not for everything! did not belfast know his business? no! did they mean to say that he had seen nothing at all? well, not exactly that, but those scientific gentlemen can seldom be trusted; in their rage for discovery, they make a mountain out of a molehill, or, what is worse, they start a theory and then distort facts to support it. answers of this kind either led directly to a fight, or the _belfasters_ moved away thoroughly disgusted with the ignorance of their opponents, who could not see a chain of reasoning as bright as the noonday sun. things were in this feverish state on the evening of the 14th, when, all at once, bloomsbury's dispatch arrived in baltimore. i need not say that it dropped like a spark in a keg of gun powder. the first question all asked was: is it genuine or bogus? real or got up by the stockbrokers? but a few flashes backwards and forwards over the wires soon settled that point. the stunning effects of the new blow were hardly over when the _barbicanites_ began to perceive that the wonderful intelligence was decidedly in their favor. was it not a distinct contradiction of the whole story told by their opponents? if barbican and his friends were lying at the bottom of the pacific, they were certainly not circumgyrating around the moon. if it was the projectile that had broken off the bowsprit of the _susquehanna_, it could not certainly be the projectile that belfast had seen only the day previous doing the duty of a satellite. did not the truth of one incident render the other an absolute impossibility? if bloomsbury was right, was not belfast an ass? hurrah! the new revelation did not improve poor barbican's fate a bit--no matter for that! did not the _party_ gain by it? what would the _belfasters_ say now? would not they hold down their heads in confusion and disgrace? the _belfasters_, with a versatility highly creditable to human nature, did nothing of the kind. rapidly adopting the very line of tactics they had just been so severely censuring, they simply denied the whole thing. what! the truth of the bloomsbury dispatch? yes, every word of it! had not bloomsbury seen the projectile? no! were not his eyes good for anything? yes, but not for everything! did not the captain know his business? no! did they mean to say that the bowsprit of the _susquehanna_ had not been broken off? well, not exactly that, but those naval gentlemen are not always to be trusted; after a pleasant little supper, they often see the wrong light-house, or, what is worse, in their desire to shield their negligence from censure, they dodge the blame by trying to show that the accident was unavoidable. the _susquehanna's_ bowsprit had been snapped off, in all probability, by some sudden squall, or, what was still more likely, some little aerolite had struck it and frightened the crew into fits. when answers of this kind did not lead to blows, the case was an exceptional one indeed. the contestants were so numerous and so excited that the police at last began to think of letting them fight it out without any interference. marshal o'kane, though ably assisted by his 12 officers and 500 patrolmen, had a terrible time of it. the most respectable men in baltimore, with eyes blackened, noses bleeding, and collars torn, saw the inside of a prison that night for the first time in all their lives. men that even the great war had left the warmest of friends, now abused each other like fishwomen. the prison could not hold the half of those arrested. they were all, however, discharged next morning, for the simple reason that the mayor and the aldermen had been themselves engaged in so many pugilistic combats during the night that they were altogether disabled from attending to their magisterial duties next day. our readers, however, may be quite assured that, even in the wildest whirl of the tremendous excitement around them, all the members of the baltimore gun club did not lose their heads. in spite of the determined opposition of the _belfasters_ who would not allow the bloomsbury dispatch to be read at the special meeting called that evening, a few succeeded in adjourning to a committee-room, where joseph wilcox, esq., presiding, our old friends colonel bloomsbury, major elphinstone, tom hunter, billsby the brave, general morgan, chief engineer john murphy, and about as many more as were sufficient to form a quorum, declared themselves to be in regular session, and proceeded quietly to debate on the nature of captain bloomsbury's dispatch. was it of a nature to justify immediate action or not? decided unanimously in the affirmative. why so? because, whether actually true or untrue, the incident it announced was not impossible. had it indeed announced the projectile to have fallen in california or in south america, there would have been good valid reasons to question its accuracy. but by taking into consideration the moon's distance, and the time elapsed between the moment of the start and that of the presumed fall (about 10 days), and also the earth's revolution in the meantime, it was soon calculated that the point at which the projectile should strike our globe, if it struck it at all, would be somewhere about 27° north latitude, and 42° west longitude--the very identical spot given in the captain's dispatch! this certainly was a strong point in its favor, especially as there was positively nothing valid whatever to urge against it. a decided resolution was therefore immediately taken. everything that man could do was to be done at once, in order to fish up their brave associates from the depths of the pacific. that very night, in fact, whilst the streets of baltimore were still resounding with the yells of contending _belfasters_ and _barbicanites_, a committee of four, morgan, hunter, murphy, and elphinstone, were speeding over the alleghanies in a special train, placed at their disposal by the _baltimore and ohio railroad company_, and fast enough to land them in chicago pretty early on the following evening. here a fresh locomotive and a pullman car taking charge of them, they were whirled off to omaha, reaching that busy locality at about supper time on the evening of december 16th. the pacific train, as it was called though at that time running no further west than julesburg, instead of waiting for the regular hour of starting, fired up that very night, and was soon pulling the famous baltimore club men up the slopes of the nebraska at the rate of forty miles an hour. they were awakened before light next morning by the guard, who told them that julesburg, which they were just entering, was the last point so far reached by the rails. but their regret at this circumstance was most unexpectedly and joyfully interrupted by finding their hands warmly clasped and their names cheerily cried out by their old and beloved friend, j.t. marston, the illustrious secretary of the baltimore gun club. at the close of the first volume of our entertaining and veracious history, we left this most devoted friend and admirer of barbican established firmly at his post on the summit of long's peak, beside the great telescope, watching the skies, night and day, for some traces of his departed friends. there, as the gracious reader will also remember, he had come a little too late to catch that sight of the projectile which belfast had at first reported so confidently, but of which the professor by degrees had begun to entertain the most serious doubts. in these doubts, however, marston, strange to say, would not permit himself for one moment to share. belfast might shake his head as much as he pleased; he, marston, was no fickle reed to be shaken by every wind; he firmly believed the projectile to be there before him, actually in sight, if he could only see it. all the long night of the 13th, and even for several hours of the 14th, he never quitted the telescope for a single instant. the midnight sky was in magnificent order; not a speck dimmed its azure of an intensely dark tint. the stars blazed out like fires; the moon refused none of her secrets to the scientists who were gazing at her so intently that night from the platform on the summit of long's peak. but no black spot crawling over her resplendent surface rewarded their eager gaze. marston indeed would occasionally utter a joyful cry announcing some discovery, but in a moment after he was confessing with groans that it was all a false alarm. towards morning, belfast gave up in despair and went to take a sleep; but no sleep for marston. though he was now quite alone, the assistants having also retired, he kept on talking incessantly to himself, expressing the most unbounded confidence in the safety of his friends, and the absolute certainty of their return. it was not until some hours after the sun had risen and the moon had disappeared behind the snowy peaks of the west, that he at last withdrew his weary eye from the glass through which every image formed by the great reflector was to be viewed. the countenance he turned on belfast, who had now come back, was rueful in the extreme. it was the image of grief and despair. "did you see nothing whatever during the night, professor?" he asked of belfast, though he knew very well the answer he was to get. "nothing whatever." "but you saw them once, didn't you?" "them! who?" "our friends." "oh! the projectile--well--i think i must have made some oversight." "don't say that! did not mr. m'connell see it also?" "no. he only wrote out what i dictated." "why, you must have seen it! i have seen it myself!" "you shall never see it again! it's shot off into space." "you're as wrong now as you thought you were right yesterday." "i'm sorry to say i was wrong yesterday; but i have every reason to believe i'm right to-day." "we shall see! wait till to-night!" "to-night! too late! as far as the projectile is concerned, night is now no better than day." the learned professor was quite right, but in a way which he did not exactly expect. that very evening, after a weary day, apparently a month long, during which marston sought in vain for a few hours' repose, just as all hands, well wrapped up in warm furs, were getting ready to assume their posts once more near the mouth of the gigantic telescope, mr. m'connell hastily presented himself with a dispatch for belfast. the professor was listlessly breaking the envelope, when he uttered a sharp cry of surprise. "hey!" cried marston quickly. "what's up now?" "oh!! the pro--pro--projectile!!" "what of it? what? oh what?? speak!!" "it's back!!" marston uttered a wild yell of mingled horror, surprise, and joy, jumped a little into the air, and then fell flat and motionless on the platform. had belfast shot him with a ten pound weight, right between the two eyes, he could not have knocked him flatter or stiffer. having neither slept all night, nor eaten all day, the poor fellow's system had become so weak that such unexpected news was really more than he could bear. besides, as one of the cambridge men of the party, a young medical student, remarked: the thin, cold air of these high mountains was extremely enervating. the astronomers, all exceedingly alarmed, did what they could to recover their friend from his fit, but it was nearly ten minutes before they had the satisfaction of seeing his limbs moving with a slight quiver and his breast beginning to heave. at last the color came back to his face and his eyes opened. he stared around for a few seconds at his friends, evidently unconscious, but his senses were not long in returning. "say!" he uttered at last in a faint voice. "well!" replied belfast. "where is that infernal pro--pro--jectile?" "in the pacific ocean." "what??" he was on his feet in an instant. "say that again!" "in the pacific ocean." "hurrah! all right! old barbican's not made into mincemeat yet! no, sirree! let's start!" "where for?" "san francisco!" "when?" "this instant!" "in the dark?" "we shall soon have the light of the moon! curse her! it's the least she can do after all the trouble she has given us!" chapter xxii. on the wings of the wind. leaving m'connell and a few other cambridge men to take charge of the great telescope, marston and belfast in little more than an hour after the receipt of the exciting dispatch, were scudding down the slopes of long's peak by the only possible route--the inclined railroad. this mode of travelling, however, highly satisfactory as far as it went, ceased altogether at the mountain foot, at the point where the dale river formed a junction with cache la poudre creek. but marston, having already mapped out the whole journey with some care and forethought, was ready for almost every emergency. instinctively feeling that the first act of the baltimore gun club would be to send a committee to san francisco to investigate matters, he had determined to meet this deputation on the route, and his only trouble now was to determine at what point he would be most likely to catch them. his great start, he knew perfectly well, could not put him more than a day in advance of them: they having the advantage of a railroad nearly all the way, whilst himself and belfast could not help losing much time in struggling through ravines, canyons, mountain precipices, and densely tangled forests, not to mention the possibility of a brush or two with prowling indians, before they could strike the line of the pacific railroad, along which he knew the club men to be approaching. after a few hours rest at la porte, a little settlement lately started in the valley, early in the morning they took the stage that passed through from denver to cheyenne, a town at that time hardly a year old but already flourishing, with a busy population of several thousand inhabitants. losing not a moment at cheyenne, where they arrived much sooner than they had anticipated, they took places in wells, fargo and co.'s _overland stage mail_ bound east, and were soon flying towards julesburg at the rate of twelve miles an hour. here marston was anxious to meet the club men, as at this point the pacific railroad divided into two branches--one bearing north, the other south of the great salt lake --and he feared they might take the wrong one. but he arrived in julesburg fully 10 hours before the committee, so that himself and belfast had not only ample time to rest a little after their rapid flight from long's peak, but also to make every possible preparation for the terrible journey of more than fifteen hundred miles that still lay before them. this journey, undertaken at a most unseasonable period of the year, and over one of the most terrible deserts in the world, would require a volume for itself. constantly presenting the sharpest points of contrast between the most savage features of wild barbaric nature on the one hand, and the most touching traits of the sweetest humanity on the other, the story of our club men's adventures, if only well told, could hardly fail to be highly interesting. but instead of a volume, we can give it only a chapter, and that a short one. from julesburg, the last station on the eastern end of the pacific railroad, to cisco, the last station on its western end, the distance is probably about fifteen hundred miles, about as far as constantinople is from london, or moscow from paris. this enormous stretch of country had to be travelled all the way by, at the best, a six horse stage tearing along night and day at a uniform rate, road or no road, of ten miles an hour. but this was the least of the trouble. bands of hostile indians were a constant source of watchfulness and trouble, against which even a most liberal stock of rifles and revolvers were not always a reassurance. whirlwinds of dust often overwhelmed the travellers so completely that they could hardly tell day from night, whilst blasts of icy chill, sweeping down from the snowy peaks of the rocky mountains, often made them imagine themselves in the midst of the horrors of an arctic winter. the predominant scenery gave no pleasure to the eye or exhilaration to the mind. it was of the dreariest description. days and days passed with hardly a house to be seen, or a tree or a blade of grass. i might even add, or a mountain or a river, for the one was too often a heap of agglomerated sand and clay cut into unsightly chasms by the rain, and the other generally degenerated into a mere stagnant swamp, its shallowness and dryness increasing regularly with its length. the only houses were log ranches, called relays, hardly visible in their sandy surroundings, and separate from each other by a mean distance of ten miles. the only trees were either stunted cedars, so far apart, as to be often denominated lone trees; and, besides wormwood, the only plant was the sage plant, about two feet high, gray, dry, crisp, and emitting a sharp pungent odor by no means pleasant. in fact, barbican and his companions had seen nothing drearier or savager in the dreariest and savagest of lunar landscapes than the scenes occasionally presented to marston and his friends in their headlong journey on the track of the great pacific railroad. here, bowlders, high, square, straight and plumb as an immense hotel, blocked up your way; there, lay an endless level, flat as the palm of your hand, over which your eye might roam in vain in search of something green like a meadow, yellow like a cornfield, or black like ploughed ground--a mere boundless waste of dirty white from the stunted wormwood, often rendered misty with the clouds of smarting alkali dust. occasionally, however, this savage scenery decidedly changed its character. now, a lovely glen would smile before our travellers, traversed by tinkling streams, waving with sweet grasses, dotted with little groves, alive with hares, antelopes, and even elks, but apparently never yet trodden by the foot of man. now, our club men felt like travelling on clouds, as they careered along the great plateau west of the black hills, fully 8,000 feet above the level of the sea, though even there the grass was as green and fresh as if it grew in some sequestered valley of pennsylvania. again, "in this untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever as they moved," they would find themselves in an immense, tawny, treeless plain, outlined by mountains so distant as to resemble fantastic cloud piles. here for days they would have to skirt the coasts of a lake, vast, unruffled, unrippled, apparently of metallic consistency, from whose sapphire depths rose pyramidal islands to a height of fully three thousand feet above the surface. in a few days all would change. no more sand wastes, salt water flats, or clouds of blinding alkali dust. the travellers' road, at the foot of black precipitous cliffs, would wind along the brink of a roaring torrent, whose devious course would lead them into the heart of the sierras, where misty peaks solemnly sentinelled the nestling vales still smiling in genial summer verdure. across these they were often whirled through immense forests of varied character, here dense enough to obscure the track, there swaying in the sweet sunlight and vocal with joyous birds of bright and gorgeous plumage. then tropical vegetation would completely hide the trail, crystal lakes would obstruct it, cascades shooting down from perpendicular rocks would obliterate it, mountain passes barricaded by basaltic columns would render it uncertain, and on one occasion it was completely covered up by a fall of snow to a depth of more than twenty feet. but nothing could oppose serious delay to our travellers. their motto was ever "onward!" and what they lost in one hour by some mishap they endeavored to recover on the next by redoubled speed. they felt that they would be no friends of barbican's if they were discouraged by impossibilities. besides, what would have been real impossibilities at another time, several concurrent circumstances now rendered comparatively easy. the surveys, the gradings, the cuttings, and the other preliminary labors in the great pacific railroad, gave them incalculable aid. horses, help, carriages, provisions were always in abundance. their object being well known, they had the best wishes of every hand on the road. people remained up for them all hours of the night, no matter at what station they were expected. the warmest and most comfortable of meals were always ready for them, for which no charge would be taken on any account. in utah, a deputation of mormons galloped alongside them for forty miles to help them over some points of the road that had been often found difficult. the season was the finest known for many years. in short, as an old californian said as he saw them shooting over the rickety bridge that crossed the bear river at corinne: "they had everything in their favor--_luck_ as well as _pluck_!" the rate at which they performed this terrible ride across the continent and the progress they made each day, some readers may consider worthy of a few more items for the sake of future reference. discarding the ordinary overland mail stage as altogether too slow for their purpose, they hired at julesburg a strong, well built carriage, large enough to hold them all comfortably; but this they had to replace twice before they came to their journey's end. their team always consisted of the best six horses that could be found, and their driver was the famous hank monk of california, who, happening to be in julesburg about that time, volunteered to see them safely landed in cisco on the summit of the sierra nevada. they were enabled to change horses as near as possible every hour, by telegraphing ahead in the morning, during the day, and often far into the hours of night. starting from julesburg early in the morning of the 17th, their first resting place for a few hours at night was granite canyon, twenty miles west of cheyenne, and just at the foot of the pass over the black hills. on the 18th, night-fall found them entering st. mary's, at the further end of the pass between rattle snake hills and elk mountain. it was after 5 o'clock and already dark on the 19th, when the travellers, hurrying with all speed through the gloomy gorge of slate formation leading to the banks of the green river, found the ford too deep to be ventured before morning. the 20th was a clear cold day very favorable for brisk locomotion, and the bright sun had not quite disappeared behind the wahsatch mountains when the club men, having crossed the bear river, began to leave the lofty plateau of the rocky mountains by the great inclined plane marked by the lines of the echo and the weber rivers on their way to the valley of the great american desert. quitting castle rock early on the morning of the 21st, they soon came in sight of the great salt lake, along the northern shores of which they sped all day, taking shelter after night-fall at terrace, in a miserable log cabin surrounded by piles of drifting sand. the 22d was a terrible day. the sand was blinding, the alkali dust choking, the ride for five or six hours was up considerable grade; still they had accomplished their 150 miles before resting for the night at elko, even at this period a flourishing little village on the banks of the humboldt. after another smothering ride on the 23d, they rested, at winnemucca, another flourishing village, situated at the precise point in the desert where the little humboldt joins humboldt river, without, however, making the channel fuller or wider. the 24th was decidedly the hardest day, their course lying through the worst part of the terrible nevada desert. but a glimpse of the sierras looming in the western horizon gave them courage and strength enough to reach wadsworth, at their foot, a little before midnight. our travellers had now but one day's journey more to make before reaching the railroad at cisco, but, this being a very steep ascent nearly all the way up, each mile cost almost twice as much time and exertion. at last, late in the evening of christmas day, amidst the most enthusiastic cheers of all the inhabitants of cisco, who welcomed them with a splendid pine brand procession, marston and his friends, thoroughly used up, feet swelled, limbs bruised, bones aching, stomachs seasick, eyes bleared, ears ringing, and brains on fire for want of rest, took their places in the state car waiting for them, and started without a moment's delay for sacramento, about a hundred miles distant. how delicious was the change to our poor travellers! washed, refreshed, and lying at full length on luxurious sofas, their sensations, as the locomotive spun them down the ringing grooves of the steep sierras, can be more easily imagined than described. they were all fast asleep when the train entered sacramento, but the mayor and the other city authorities who had waited up to receive them, had them carried carefully, so as not to disturb their slumbers, on board the _yo semite_, a fine steamer belonging to the california navigation company, which landed them safely at san francisco about noon on the 26th, after accomplishing the extraordinary winter journey of 1500 miles over land in little more than nine days, only about 200 miles being done by steam. half-past two p.m. found our travellers bathed, dressed, shaved, dined, and ready to receive company in the grand parlor of the _occidental hotel_. captain bloomsbury was the first to call. marston hobbled eagerly towards him and asked: "what have you done towards fishing them up, captain?" "a good deal, mr. marston; indeed almost everything is ready." "is that really the case, captain?" asked all, very agreeably surprised. "yes, gentlemen, i am most happy to state that i am quite in earnest." "can we start to-morrow?" asked general morgan. "we have not a moment to spare, you know." "we can start at noon to-morrow at latest," replied the captain, "if the foundry men do a little extra work to-night." "we must start this very day, captain bloomsbury," cried marston resolutely; "barbican has been lying two weeks and thirteen hours in the depths of the pacific! if he is still alive, no thanks to marston! he must by this time have given me up! the grappling irons must be got on board at once, captain, and let us start this evening!" at half-past four that very evening, a shot from the fort and a lowering of the stars and stripes from its flagstaff saluted the _susquehanna_, as she steamed proudly out of the golden gate at the lively rate of fifteen knots an hour. chapter xxiii. the club men go a fishing. captain bloomsbury was perfectly right when he said that almost everything was ready for the commencement of the great work which the club men had to accomplish. considering how much was required, this was certainly saying a great deal; but here also, as on many other occasions, fortune had singularly favored the club men. san francisco bay, as everybody knows, though one of the finest and safest harbors in the world, is not without some danger from hidden rocks. one of these in particular, the anita rock as it was called, lying right in mid channel, had become so notorious for the wrecks of which it was the cause, that, after much time spent in the consideration of the subject, the authorities had at last determined to blow it up. this undertaking having been very satisfactorily accomplished by means of _dynamite_ or giant powder, another improvement in the harbor had been also undertaken with great success. the wrecks of many vessels lay scattered here and there pretty numerously, some, like that of the _flying dragon_, in spots so shallow that they could be easily seen at low water, but others sunk at least twenty fathoms deep, like that of the _caroline_, which had gone down in 1851, not far from blossom rock, with a treasure on board of 20,000 ounces of gold. the attempt to clear away these wrecks had also turned out very well; even sufficient treasure had been recovered to repay all the expense, though the preparations for the purpose by the contractors, m'gowan and co. had been made on the most extensive scale, and in accordance with the latest improvements in the apparatus for submarine operations. buoys, made of huge canvas sacks, coated with india rubber, and guarded by a net work of strong cordage, had been manufactured and provided by the _new york submarine company_. these buoys, when inflated and working in pairs, had a lifting capacity of 30 tons a pair. reservoirs of air, provided with powerful compression pumps, always accompanied the buoys. to attach the latter, in a collapsed condition, with strong chains to the sides of the vessels which were to be lifted, a diving apparatus was necessary. this also the _new york company_ had provided, and it was so perfect in its way that, by means of peculiar appliances of easy management, the diver could walk about on the bottom, take his own bearings, ascend to the surface at pleasure, and open his helmet without assistance. a few sets likewise of rouquayrol and denayrouze's famous submarine armor had been provided. these would prove of invaluable advantage in all operations performed at great sea depths, as its distinctive feature, "the regulator," could maintain, what is not done by any other diving armor, a constant equality of pressure on the lungs between the external and the internal air. but perhaps the most useful article of all was a new form of diving bell called the _nautilus_, a kind of submarine boat, capable of lateral as well as vertical movement at the will of its occupants. constructed with double sides, the intervening chambers could be filled either with water or air according as descent or ascent was required. a proper supply of water enabled the machine to descend to depths impossible to be reached otherwise; this water could then be expelled by an ingenious contrivance, which, replacing it with air, enabled the diver to rise towards the surface as fast as he pleased. all these and many other portions of the submarine apparatus which had been employed that very year for clearing the channel, lifting the wrecks and recovering the treasure, lay now at san francisco, unused fortunately on account of the season of the year, and therefore they could be readily obtained for the asking. they had even been generously offered to captain bloomsbury, who, in obedience to a telegram from washington, had kept his crew busily employed for nearly two weeks night and day in transferring them all safely on board the _susquehanna_. marston was the first to make a careful inspection of every article intended for the operation. "do you consider these buoys powerful enough to lift the projectile, captain?" he asked next morning, as the vessel was briskly heading southward, at a distance of ten or twelve miles from the coast on their left. "you can easily calculate that problem yourself, mr. marston," replied the captain. "it presents no difficulty. the projectile weighs about 20 thousand pounds, or 10 tons?" "correct!" "well, a pair of these buoys when inflated can raise a weight of 30 tons." "so far so good. but how do you propose attaching them to the projectile?" "we simply let them descend in a state of collapse; the diver, going down with them, will have no difficulty in making a fast connection. as soon as they are inflated the projectile will come up like a cork." "can the divers readily reach such depths?" "that remains to be seen mr. marston." "captain," said morgan, now joining the party, "you are a worthy member of our gun club. you have done wonders. heaven grant it may not be all in vain! who knows if our poor friends are still alive?" "hush!" cried marston quickly. "have more sense than to ask such questions. is barbican alive! am _i_ alive? they're all alive, i tell you, only we must be quick about reaching them before the air gives out. that's what's the matter! air! provisions, water--abundance! but air--oh! that's their weak point! quick, captain, quick--they're throwing the reel--i must see her rate!" so saying, he hurried off to the stern, followed by general morgan. chief engineer murphy and the captain of the _susquehanna_ were thus left for awhile together. these two men had a long talk on the object of their journey and the likelihood of anything satisfactory being accomplished. the man of the sea candidly acknowledged his apprehensions. he had done everything in his power towards collecting suitable machinery for fishing up the projectile, but he had done it all, he said, more as a matter of duty than because he believed that any good could result from it; in fact, he never expected to see the bold adventurers again either living or dead. murphy, who well understood not only what machinery was capable of effecting, but also what it would surely fail in, at first expressed the greatest confidence in the prosperous issue of the undertaking. but when he learned, as he now did for the first time, that the ocean bed on which the projectile was lying could be hardly less than 20,000 feet below the surface, he assumed a countenance as grave as the captain's, and at once confessed that, unless their usual luck stood by them, his poor friends had not the slightest possible chance of ever being fished up from the depths of the pacific. the conversation maintained among the officers and the others on board the _susquehanna_, was pretty much of the same nature. it is almost needless to say that all heads--except belfast's, whose scientific mind rejected the projectile theory with the most serene contempt--were filled with the same idea, all hearts throbbed with the same emotion. wouldn't it be glorious to fish them up alive and well? what were they doing just now? doing? _doing!_ their bodies most probably were lying in a shapeless pile on the floor of the projectile, like a heap of clothes, the uppermost man being the last smothered; or perhaps floating about in the water inside the projectile, like dead gold fish in an aquarium; or perhaps burned to a cinder, like papers in a "champion" safe after a great fire; or, who knows? perhaps at that very moment the poor fellows were making their last and almost superhuman struggles to burst their watery prison and ascend once more into the cheerful regions of light and air! alas! how vain must such puny efforts prove! plunged into ocean depths of three or four miles beneath the surface, subjected to an inconceivable pressure of millions and millions of tons of sea water, their metallic shroud was utterly unassailable from within, and utterly unapproachable from without! early on the morning of december 29th, the captain calculating from his log that they must now be very near the spot where they had witnessed the extraordinary phenomenon, the _susquehanna_ hove to. having to wait till noon to find his exact position, he ordered the steamer to take a short circular course of a few hours' duration, in hope of sighting the buoy. but though at least a hundred telescopes scanned the calm ocean breast for many miles in all directions, it was nowhere to be seen. precisely at noon, aided by his officers and in the presence of marston, belfast, and the gun club committee, the captain took his observations. after a moment or two of the most profound interest, it was a great gratification to all to learn that the _susquehanna_ was on the right parallel, and only about 15 miles west of the precise spot where the projectile had disappeared beneath the waves. the steamer started at once in the direction indicated, and a minute or two before one o'clock the captain said they were "there." no sign of the buoy could yet be seen in any direction; it had probably been drifted southward by the mexican coast current which slowly glides along these shores from december to april. "at last!" cried marston, with a sigh of great relief. "shall we commence at once?" asked the captain. "without losing the twenty thousandth part of a second!" answered marston; "life or death depends upon our dispatch!" the _susquehanna_ again hove to, and this time all possible precautions were taken to keep her in a state of perfect immobility--an operation easily accomplished in these pacific latitudes, where cloud and wind and water are often as motionless as if all life had died out of the world. in fact, as the boats were quietly lowered, preparatory for beginning the operations, the mirror like calmness of sea, sky, and ship so impressed the doctor, who was of a poetical turn of mind, that he could not help exclaiming to the little midshipman, who was standing nearest: "coleridge realized, with variations: the breeze drops down, the sail drops down, all's still as still can be; if we speak, it is only to break the silence of the sea. still are the clouds, still are the shrouds, no life, no breath, no motion; idle are all as a painted ship upon a painted ocean!" chief engineer murphy now took command. before letting down the buoys, the first thing evidently to be done was to find out, if possible, the precise point where the projectile lay. for this purpose, the nautilus was clearly the only part of the machinery that could be employed with advantage. its chambers were accordingly soon filled with water, its air reservoirs were also soon completely charged, and the nautilus itself, suspended by chains from the end of a yard, lay quietly on the ocean surface, its manhole on the top remaining open for the reception of those who were willing to encounter the dangers that awaited it in the fearful depths of the pacific. every one looking on was well aware that, after a few hundred feet below the surface, the pressure would grow more and more enormous, until at last it became quite doubtful if any line could bear the tremendous strain. it was even possible that at a certain depth the walls of the nautilus might be crushed in like an eggshell, and the whole machine made as flat as two leaves of paper pasted together. perfectly conscious of the nature of the tremendous risk they were about to run, marston, morgan, and murphy quietly bade their friends a short farewell and were lowered into the manhole. the nautilus having room enough for four, belfast had been expected to be of the party but, feeling a little sea sick, the professor backed out at the last moment, to the great joy of mr. watkins, the famous reporter of the _n.y. herald_, who was immediately allowed to take his place. every provision against immediate danger had been made. by means of preconcerted signals, the inmates could have themselves drawn up, let down, or carried laterally in whatever direction they pleased. by barometers and other instruments they could readily ascertain the pressure of the air and water, also how far they had descended and at what rate they were moving. the captain, from his bridge, carefully superintended every detail of the operation. all signals he insisted on attending to himself personally, transmitting them instantly by his bell to the engineer below. the whole power of the steam engine had been brought to bear on the windlass; the chains could withstand an enormous strain. the wheels had been carefully oiled and tested beforehand; the signalling apparatus had been subjected to the rigidest examination; and every portion of the machinery had been proved to be in admirable working order. the chances of immediate and unforeseen danger, it is true, had been somewhat diminished by all these precautions. the risk, nevertheless, was fearful. the slightest accident or even carelessness might easily lead to the most disastrous consequence. five minutes after two o'clock, the manhole being closed, the lamps lit, and everything pronounced all right, the signal for the descent was given, and the nautilus immediately disappeared beneath the waters. a double anxiety now possessed all on board the _susquehanna_: the prisoners in the nautilus were in danger as well as the prisoners in the projectile. marston and his friends, however, were anything but disquieted on their own account, and, pencil in hand and noses flattened on the glass plates, they examined carefully everything they could see in the liquid masses through which they were descending. for the first five hundred feet, the descent was accomplished with little trouble. the nautilus sank rather slowly, at a uniform rate of a foot to the second. it had not been two minutes under water when the light of day completely disappeared. but for this the occupants were fully prepared, having provided themselves with powerful lamps, whose brilliant light, radiating from polished reflectors, gave them an opportunity of seeing clearly around it for a distance of eight or ten feet in all directions. owing to the superlatively excellent construction of the nautilus, also on account of the _scaphanders_, or suits of diving armor, with which marston and his friends had clothed themselves, the disagreeable sensations to which divers are ordinarily exposed, were hardly felt at all in the beginning of the descent. marston was about to congratulate his companions on the favorable auspices inaugurating their trip, when murphy, consulting the instrument, discovered to his great surprise that the nautilus was not making its time. in reply to their signal "faster!" the downward movement increased a little, but it soon relaxed again. instead of less than two minutes, as at the beginning, it now took twelve minutes to make a hundred feet. they had gone only seven hundred feet in thirty-seven minutes. in spite of repeated signalling, their progress during the next hour was even still more alarming, one hundred feet taking exactly 59 minutes. to shorten detail, it required two hours more to make another hundred feet; and then the nautilus, after taking ten minutes to crawl an inch further, came to a perfect stand still. the pressure of the water had evidently now become too enormous to allow further descent. the clubmen's distress was very great; marston's, in particular, was indescribable. in vain, catching at straws, he signalled "eastwards!" "westwards!" "northwards!" or "southwards!" the nautilus moved readily every way but downwards. "oh! what shall we do?" he cried in despair; "barbican, must we really give you up though separated from us by the short distance of only a few miles?" at last, nothing better being to be done, the unwilling signal "heave upwards!" was given, and the hauling up commenced. it was done very slowly, and with the greatest care. a sudden jerk might snap the chains; an incautious twist might put a kink on the air tube; besides, it was well known that the sudden removal of heavy pressure resulting from rapid ascent, is attended by very disagreeable sensations, which have sometimes even proved fatal. it was near midnight when the clubmen were lifted out of the manhole. their faces were pale, their eyes bloodshot, their figures stooped. even the _herald_ reporter seemed to have got enough of exploring. but marston was as confident as ever, and tried to be as brisk. he had hardly swallowed the refreshment so positively enjoined in the circumstances, when he abruptly addressed the captain: "what's the weight of your heaviest cannon balls?" "thirty pounds, mr. marston." "can't you attach thirty of them to the nautilus and sink us again?" "certainly, mr. marston, if you wish it. it shall be the first thing done to-morrow." "to-night, captain! at once! barbican has not an instant to lose." "at once then be it, mr. marston. just as you say." the new sinkers were soon attached to the nautilus, which disappeared once more with all its former occupants inside, except the _herald_ reporter, who had fallen asleep over his notes, or at least seemed to be. he had probably made up his mind as to the likelihood of the nautilus ever getting back again. the second descent was quicker than the first, but just as futile. at 1152 feet, the nautilus positively refused to go a single inch further. marston looked like a man in a stupor. he made no objection to the signal given by the others to return; he even helped to cut the ropes by which the cannon balls had been attached. not a single word was spoken by the party, as they slowly rose to the surface. marston seemed to be struggling against despair. for the first time, the impossibility of the great enterprise seemed to dawn upon him. he and his friends had undertaken a great fight with the mighty ocean, which now played with them as a giant with a pigmy. to reach the bottom was evidently completely out of their power; and what was infinitely worse, there was nothing to be gained by reaching it. the projectile was not on the bottom; it could not even have got to the bottom. marston said it all in a few words to the captain, as the clubmen stepped on deck a few hours later: "barbican is floating midway in the depths of the pacific, like mahomet in his coffin!" blindly yielding, however, to the melancholy hope that is born of despair, marston and his friends renewed the search next day, the 30th, but they were all too worn out with watching and excitement to be able to continue it longer than a few hours. after a night's rest, it was renewed the day following, the 31st, with some vigor, and a good part of the ocean lying between guadalupe and benito islands was carefully investigated to a depth of seven or eight hundred feet. no traces whatever of the projectile. several california steamers, plying between san francisco and panama, passed the _susquehanna_ within hailing distance. but to every question, the invariable reply one melancholy burden bore: "no luck!" all hands were now in despair. marston could neither eat nor drink. he never even spoke the whole day, except on two occasions. once, when somebody heard him muttering: "he's now seventeen days in the ocean!" the second time he spoke, the words seemed to be forced out of him. belfast admitted, for the sake of argument, that the projectile had fallen into the ocean, but he strongly denounced the absurd idea of its occupants being still alive. "under such circumstances," went on the learned professor, "further prolongation of vital energy would be simply impossible. want of air, want of food, want of courage--" "no, sir!" interrupted marston quite savagely. "want of air, of meat, of drink, as much as you like! but when you speak of barbican's want of courage, you don't know what you are talking about! no holy martyr ever died at the stake with a loftier courage than my noble friend barbican!" that night he asked the captain if he would not sail down as far as cape san lucas. bloomsbury saw that further search was all labor lost, but he respected such heroic grief too highly to give a positive refusal. he consented to devote the following day, new year's, to an exploring expedition as far as magdalena bay, making the most diligent inquiries in all directions. but new year's was just as barren of results as any of its predecessors, and, a little before sunset, captain bloomsbury, regardless of further entreaties and unwilling to risk further delay, gave orders to 'bout ship and return to san francisco. the _susquehanna_ was slowly turning around in obedience to her wheel, as if reluctant to abandon forever a search in which humanity at large was interested, when the look-out man, stationed in the forecastle, suddenly sang out: "a buoy to the nor'east, not far from shore!" all telescopes were instantly turned in the direction indicated. the buoy, or whatever object it was, could be readily distinguished. it certainly did look like one of those buoys used to mark out the channel that ships follow when entering a harbor. but as the vessel slowly approached it, a small flag, flapping in the dying wind--a strange feature in a buoy--was seen to surmount its cone, which a nearer approach showed to be emerging four or five feet from the water. and for a buoy too it was exceedingly bright and shiny, reflecting the red rays of the setting sun as strongly as if its surface was crystal or polished metal! "call mr. marston on deck at once!" cried the captain, his voice betraying unwonted excitement as he put the glass again to his eye. marston, thoroughly worn out by his incessant anxiety during the day, had been just carried below by his friends, and they were now trying to make him take a little refreshment and repose. but the captain's order brought them all on deck like a flash. they found the whole crew gazing in one direction, and, though speaking in little more than whispers, evidently in a state of extraordinary excitement. what could all this mean? was there any ground for hope? the thought sent a pang of delight through marston's wildly beating heart that almost choked him. the captain beckoned to the club men to take a place on the bridge beside himself. they instantly obeyed, all quietly yielding them a passage. the vessel was now only about a quarter of a mile distant from the object and therefore near enough to allow it to be distinguished without the aid of a glass. what! the flag bore the well known stars and stripes! an electric shudder of glad surprise shot through the assembled crowd. they still spoke, however, in whispers, hardly daring to utter their thoughts aloud. the silence was suddenly startled by a howl of mingled ecstasy and rage from marston. he would have fallen off the bridge, had not the others held him firmly. then he burst into a laugh loud and long, and quite as formidable as his howl. then he tore away from his friends, and began beating himself over the head. "oh!" he cried in accents between a yell and a groan, "what chuckleheads we are! what numskulls! what jackasses! what double-treble-barrelled gibbering idiots!" then he fell to beating himself over the head again. "what's the matter, marston, for heaven's sake!" cried his friends, vainly trying to hold him. "speak for yourself!" cried others, belfast among the number. "no exception, belfast! you're as bad as the rest of us! we're all a set of unmitigated, demoralized, dog-goned old lunatics! ha! ha! ha!" "speak plainly, marston! tell us what you mean!" "i mean," roared the terrible secretary, "that we are no better than a lot of cabbage heads, dead beats, and frauds, calling ourselves scientists! o barbican, how you must blush for us! if we were schoolboys, we should all be skinned alive for our ignorance! do you forget, you herd of ignoramuses, that the projectile weighs only ten tons?" "we don't forget it! we know it well! what of it?" "this of it: it can't sink in water without displacing its own volume in water; its own volume in water weighs thirty tons! consequently, it can't sink; more consequently, it hasn't sunk; and, most consequently, there it is before us, bobbing up and down all the time under our very noses! o barbican, how can we ever venture to look at you straight in the face again!" marston's extravagant manner of showing it did not prevent him from being perfectly right. with all their knowledge of physics, not a single one of those scientific gentlemen had remembered the great fundamental law that governs sinking or floating bodies. thanks to its slight specific gravity, the projectile, after reaching unknown depths of ocean through the terrific momentum of its fall, had been at last arrested in its course and even obliged to return to the surface. by this time, all the passengers of the _susquehanna_ could easily recognize the object of such weary longings and desperate searches, floating quietly a short distance before them in the last rays of the declining day! the boats were out in an instant. marston and his friends took the captain's gig. the rowers pulled with a will towards the rapidly nearing projectile. what did it contain? the living or the dead? the living certainly! as marston whispered to those around him; otherwise how could they have ever run up that flag? the boats approached in perfect silence, all hearts throbbing with the intensity of newly awakened hope, all eyes eagerly watching for some sign to confirm it. no part of the windows appeared over the water, but the trap hole had been thrown open, and through it came the pole that bore the american flag. marston made for the trap hole and, as it was only a few feet above the surface, he had no difficulty in looking in. at that moment, a joyful shout of triumph rose from the interior, and the whole boat's crew heard a dry drawling voice with a nasal twang exclaiming: "queen! how is that for high?" it was instantly answered by another voice, shriller, louder, quicker, more joyous and triumphant in tone, but slightly tinged with a foreign accent: "king! my brave mac! how is that for high?" the deep, clear, calm voice that spoke next thrilled the listeners outside with an emotion that we shall not attempt to portray. except that their ears could detect in it the faintest possible emotion of triumph, it was in all respects as cool, resolute, and self-possessed as ever: "ace! dear friends, how is that for high?" they were quietly enjoying a little game of high-low-jack! [illustration: how is that for high?] how they must have been startled by the wild cheers that suddenly rang around their ocean-prison! how madly were these cheers re-echoed from the decks of the _susquehanna_! who can describe the welcome that greeted these long lost, long beloved, long despaired of sons of earth, now so suddenly and unexpectedly rescued from destruction, and restored once more to the wonderstricken eyes of admiring humanity? who can describe the scenes of joy and exuberant happiness, and deep felt gratitude, and roaring rollicking merriment, that were witnessed on board the steamer that night and during the next three days! as for marston, it need hardly be said that he was simply ecstatic, but it may interest both the psychologist and the philologist to learn that the expression _how is that for high?_ struck him at once as with a kind of frenzy. it became immediately such a favorite tongue morsel of his that ever since he has been employing it on all occasions, appropriate or otherwise. thanks to his exertions in its behalf all over the country, the phrase is now the most popular of the day, well known and relished in every part of the union. if we can judge from its present hold on the popular ear it will continue to live and flourish for many a long day to come; it may even be accepted as the popular expression of triumph in those dim, distant, future years when the memory not only of the wonderful occasion of its formation but also of the illustrious men themselves who originated it, has been consigned forever to the dark tomb of oblivion! chapter xxiv. farewell to the baltimore gun club. the intense interest of our extraordinary but most veracious history having reached its culmination at the end of the last chapter, our absorbing chronicle might with every propriety have been then and there concluded; but we can't part from our gracious and most indulgent reader before giving him a few more details which may be instructive perhaps, if not amusing. no doubt he kindly remembers the world-wide sympathy with which our three famous travellers had started on their memorable trip to the moon. if so, he may be able to form some idea of the enthusiasm universally excited by the news of their safe return. would not the millions of spectators that had thronged florida to witness their departure, now rush to the other extremity of the union to welcome them back? could those innumerable europeans, africans and asiatics, who had visited the united states simply to have a look at m'nicholl, ardan and barbican, ever think of quitting the country without having seen those wonderful men again? certainly not! nay, more--the reception and the welcome that those heroes would everywhere be greeted with, should be on a scale fully commensurate with the grandeur of their own gigantic enterprise. the sons of earth who had fearlessly quitted this terrestrial globe and who had succeeded in returning after accomplishing a journey inconceivably wonderful, well deserved to be received with every extremity of pride, pomp and glorious circumstance that the world is capable of displaying. to catch a glimpse of these demi-gods, to hear the sound of their voices, perhaps even to touch their hands--these were the only emotions with which the great heart of the country at large was now throbbing. to gratify this natural yearning of humanity, to afford not only to every foreigner but to every native in the land an opportunity of beholding the three heroes who had reflected such indelible glory on the american name, and to do it all in a manner eminently worthy of the great american nation, instantly became the desire of the american people. to desire a thing, and to have it, are synonymous terms with the great people of the american republic. a little thinking simplified the matter considerably: as all the people could not go to the heroes, the heroes should go to all the people. so decided, so done. it was nearly two months before barbican and his friends could get back to baltimore. the winter travelling over the rocky mountains had been very difficult on account of the heavy snows, and, even when they found themselves in the level country, though they tried to travel as privately as possible, and for the present positively declined all public receptions, they were compelled to spend some time in the houses of the warm friends near whom they passed in the course of their long journey. the rough notes of their moon adventures--the only ones that they could furnish just then--circulating like wild fire and devoured with universal avidity, only imparted a keener whet to the public desire to feast their eyes on such men. these notes were telegraphed free to every newspaper in the country, but the longest and best account of the "_journey to the moon_" appeared in the columns of the _new york herald_, owing to the fact that watkins the reporter had had the adventurers all to himself during the whole of the three days' trip of the _susquehanna_ back to san francisco. in a week after their return, every man, woman, and child in the united states knew by heart some of the main facts and incidents in the famous journey; but, of course, it is needless to say that they knew nothing at all about the finer points and the highly interesting minor details of the astounding story. these are now all laid before the highly favored reader for the first time. i presume it is unnecessary to add that they are worthy of his most implicit confidence, having been industriously and conscientiously compiled from the daily journals of the three travellers, revised, corrected, and digested very carefully by barbican himself. it was, of course, too early at this period for the critics to pass a decided opinion on the nature of the information furnished by our travellers. besides, the moon is an exceedingly difficult subject. very few newspaper men in the country are capable of offering a single opinion regarding her that is worth reading. this is probably also the reason why half-scientists talk so much dogmatic nonsense about her. enough, however, had appeared in the notes to warrant the general opinion that barbican's explorations had set at rest forever several pet theories lately started regarding the nature of our satellite. he and his friends had seen her with their own eyes, and under such favorable circumstances as to be altogether exceptional. regarding her formation, her origin, her inhabitability, they could easily tell what system _should_ be rejected and what _might_ be admitted. her past, her present, and her future, had been alike laid bare before their eyes. how can you object to the positive assertion of a conscientious man who has passed within a few hundred miles of _tycho_, the culminating point in the strangest of all the strange systems of lunar oreography? what reply can you make to a man who has sounded the dark abysses of the _plato_ crater? how can you dare to contradict those men whom the vicissitudes of their daring journey had swept over the dark, invisible face of the moon, never before revealed to human eye? it was now confessedly the privilege and the right of these men to set limits to that selenographic science which had till now been making itself so very busy in reconstructing the lunar world. they could now say, authoritatively, like cuvier lecturing over a fossil skeleton: "once the moon was this, a habitable world, and inhabitable long before our earth! and now the moon is that, an uninhabitable world, and uninhabitable ages and ages ago!" we must not even dream of undertaking a description of the grand _fête_ by which the return of the illustrious members of the gun club was to be adequately celebrated, and the natural curiosity of their countrymen to see them was to be reasonably gratified. it was one worthy in every way of its recipients, worthy of the gun club, worthy of the great republic, and, best of all, every man, woman, and child in the united states could take part in it. it required at least three months to prepare it: but this was not to be regretted as its leading idea could not be properly carried out during the severe colds of winter. all the great railroads of the union had been closely united by temporary rails, a uniform gauge had been everywhere adopted, and every other necessary arrangement had been made to enable a splendid palace car, expressly manufactured for the occasion by pullman himself, to visit every chief point in the united states without ever breaking connection. through the principal street in each city, or streets if one was not large enough, rails had been laid so as to admit the passage of the triumphal car. in many cities, as a precaution against unfavorable weather, these streets had been arched over with glass, thus becoming grand arcades, many of which have been allowed to remain so to the present day. the houses lining these streets, hung with tapestry, decorated with flowers, waving with banners, were all to be illuminated at night time in a style at once both the most brilliant and the most tasteful. on the sidewalks, tables had been laid, often miles and miles long, at the public expense; these were to be covered with every kind of eatables, exquisitely cooked, in the greatest profusion, and free to everyone for twelve hours before the arrival of the illustrious guests and also for twelve hours after their departure. the idea mainly aimed at was that, at the grand national banquet about to take place, every inhabitant of the united states, without exception, could consider barbican and his companions as his own particular guests for the time being, thus giving them a welcome the heartiest and most unanimous that the world has ever yet witnessed. evergreens were to deck the lamp-posts; triumphal arches to span the streets; fountains, squirting _eau de cologne_, to perfume and cool the air; bands, stationed at proper intervals, to play the most inspiring music; and boys and girls from public and private schools, dressed in picturesque attire, to sing songs of joy and glory. the people, seated at the banquetting tables, were to rise and cheer and toast the heroes as they passed; the military companies, in splendid uniforms, were to salute them with presented arms; while the bells pealed from the church towers, the great guns roared from the armories, _feux de joie_ resounded from the ships in the harbor, until the day's wildest whirl of excitement was continued far into the night by a general illumination and a surpassing display of fireworks. right in the very heart of the city, the slowly moving triumphal car was always to halt long enough to allow the club men to join the cheering citizens at their meal, which was to be breakfast, dinner or supper according to that part of the day at which the halt was made. the number of champagne bottles drunk on these occasions, or of the speeches made, or of the jokes told, or of the toasts offered, or of the hands shaken, of course, i cannot now weary my kind reader by detailing, though i have the whole account lying before me in black and white, written out day by day in barbican's own bold hand. yet i should like to give a few extracts from this wonderful journal. it is a perfect model of accuracy and system. whether detailing his own doings or those of the innumerable people he met, caesar himself never wrote anything more lucid or more pointed. but nothing sets the extraordinary nature of this great man in a better light than the firm, commanding, masterly character of the handwriting in which these records are made. the elegant penmanship all through might easily pass for copper plate engraving--except on one page, dated "_boston, after dinner_," where, candor compels me to acknowledge, the "solid men" appear to have succeeded in rendering his iron nerves the least bit wabbly. the palace car had been so constructed that, by turning a few cranks and pulling out a few bolts, it was transformed at once into a highly decorated and extremely comfortable open barouche. marston took the seat usually occupied by the driver: ardan and m'nicholl sat immediately under him, face to face with barbican, who, in order that everyone might be able to distinguish him, was to keep all the back seat for himself, the post of honor. on monday morning, the fifth of may, a month generally the pleasantest in the united states, the grand national banquet commenced in baltimore, and lasted twenty-four hours. the gun club insisted on paying all the expenses of the day, and the city compromised by being allowed to celebrate in whatever way it pleased the reception of the club men on their return. they started on their trip that same day in the midst of one of the grandest ovations possible to conceive. they stopped for a little while at wilmington, but they took dinner in philadelphia, where the splendor of broad street (at present the finest boulevard in the world, being 113 feet wide and five miles long) can be more easily alluded to than even partially described. the house fronts glittered with flowers, flags, pictures, tapestries, and other decorations; the chimneys and roofs swarmed with men and boys cheerfully risking their necks every moment to get one glance at the "moon men"; every window was a brilliant bouquet of beautiful ladies waving their scented handkerchiefs and showering their sweetest smiles; the elevated tables on the sidewalks, groaning with an abundance of excellent and varied food, were lined with men, women, and children, who, however occupied in eating and drinking, never forgot to salute the heroes, cheering them lustily as they slowly moved along; the spacious street itself, just paved from end to end with smooth belgian blocks, was a living moving panorama of soldiers, temperance men, free masons, and other societies, radiant in gorgeous uniforms, brilliant in flashing banners, and simply perfect in the rhythmic cadence of their tread, wings of delicious music seeming to bear them onward in their proud and stately march. a vast awning, spanning the street from ridge to ridge, had been so prepared and arranged that, in case of rain or too strong a glare from the summer sun, it could be opened out wholly or partially in the space of a very few minutes. there was not, however, the slightest occasion for using it, the weather being exceedingly fine, almost paradisiacal, as marston loved to phrase it. [illustration: their arrival was welcomed with equal _furore_.] the "moon men" supped and spent the night in new york, where they were received with even greater enthusiasm than at philadelphia. but no detailed description can be given of their majestic progress from city to city through all portions of the mighty republic. it is enough to say that they visited every important town from portland to san francisco, from salt lake city to new orleans, from mobile to charleston, and from saint louis to baltimore; that, in every section of the great country, preparations for their reception were equally as enthusiastic, their arrival was welcomed with equal _furore_, and their departure accompanied with an equal amount of affectionate and touching sympathy. the _new york herald_ reporter, mr. watkins, followed them closely everywhere in a palace car of his own, and kept the public fully enlightened regarding every incident worth regarding along the route, almost as soon as it happened. he was enabled to do this by means of a portable telegraphic machine of new and most ingenious construction. though its motive power was electricity, it could dispense with the ordinary instruments and even with wires altogether, yet it managed to transmit messages to most parts of the world with an accuracy that, considering how seldom it failed, is almost miraculous. the principle actuating it, though guessed at by many shrewd scientists, is still a profound secret and will probably remain so for some time longer, the _herald_ having purchased the right to its sole and exclusive use for fifteen years, at an enormous cost. who shall say that the apotheosis of our three heroes was not worthy of them, or that, had they lived in the old prehistoric times, they would not have taken the loftiest places among the demi-gods? as the tremendous whirl of excitement began slowly to die away, the more thoughtful heads of the great republic began asking each other a few questions: can this wonderful journey, unprecedented in the annals of wonderful journeys, ever lead to any practical result? shall we ever live to see direct communication established with the moon? will any air line of space navigation ever undertake to start a system of locomotion between the different members of the solar system? have we any reasonable grounds for ever expecting to see trains running between planet and planet, as from mars to jupiter and, possibly afterwards, from star to star, as from polaris to sirius? even to-day these are exceedingly puzzling questions, and, with all our much vaunted scientific progress, such as "no fellow can make out." but if we only reflect a moment on the audacious go-a-headiveness of the yankee branch of the anglo saxon race, we shall easily conclude that the american people will never rest quietly until they have pushed to its last result and to every logical consequence the astounding step so daringly conceived and so wonderfully carried out by their great countryman barbican. in fact, within a very few months after the return of the club men from the continental banquet, as it was called in the papers, the country was flooded by a number of little books, like insurance pamphlets, thrust into every letter box and pushed under every door, announcing the formation of a new company called _the grand interstellar communication society_. the capital was to be 100 million dollars, at a thousand dollars a share: j.p. barbican, esq., p.g.c. was to be president; colonel joshua d. m'nicholl, vice-president; hon. j.t. marston, secretary; chevalier michael ardan, general manager; john murphy, esq., chief engineer; h. phillips coleman, esq. (philadelphia lawyer), legal adviser; and the astrological adviser was to be professor henry of washington. (belfast's blunder had injured him so much in public estimation, his former partisans having become his most merciless revilers, that it was considered advisable to omit his name altogether even in the list of the directors.) from the very beginning, the moneyed public looked on the g.i.c.s, with decided favor, and its shares were bought up pretty freely. conducted on strictly honorable principles, keeping carefully aloof from all such damaging connection as the _credit mobilier_, and having its books always thrown open for public inspection, its reputation even to-day is excellent and continually improving in the popular estimation. holding out no utopian inducements to catch the unwary, and making no wheedling promises to blind the guileless, it states its great objects with all their great advantages, without at the same time suppressing its enormous and perhaps insuperable difficulties. people know exactly what to think of it, and, whether it ever meets with perfect success or proves a complete failure, no one in the country will ever think of casting a slur on the bright name of its peerless president, j.p. barbican. for a few years this great man devoted every faculty of his mind to the furthering of the company's objects. but in the midst of his labors, the rapid approach of the centennial surprised him. after a long and careful consultation on the subject, the directors and stockholders of the g.i.c.s. advised him to suspend all further labors in their behalf for a few years, in order that he might be freer to devote the full energies of his giant intellect towards celebrating the first hundredth anniversary of his country's independence--as all true americans would wish to see it celebrated--in a manner every way worthy of the great republic of the west! obeying orders instantly and with the single-idea'd, unselfish enthusiasm of his nature, he threw himself at once heart and soul into the great enterprise. though possessing no official prominence--this he absolutely insists upon--he is well known to be the great fountain head whence emanate all the life, order, dispatch, simplicity, economy, and wonderful harmony which, so far, have so eminently characterized the magnificent project. with all operations for raising the necessary funds--further than by giving some sound practical advice--he positively refused to connect himself (this may be the reason why subscriptions to the centennial stock are so slow in coming in), but in the proper apportionment of expenses and the strict surveillance of the mechanical, engineering, and architectural departments, his services have proved invaluable. his experience in the vast operations at stony hill has given him great skill in the difficult art of managing men. his voice is seldom heard at the meetings, but when it is, people seem to take a pleasure in readily submitting to its dictates. in wet weather or dry, in hot weather or cold, he may still be seen every day at fairmount park, philadelphia, leisurely strolling from building to building, picking his steps quietly through the bustling crowds of busy workmen, never speaking a word, not even to marston his faithful shadow, often pencilling something in his pocket book, stopping occasionally to look apparently nowhere, but never, you may be sure, allowing a single detail in the restless panorama around him to escape the piercing shaft of his eagle glance. he is evidently determined on rendering the great centennial of his country a still greater and more wonderful success than even his own world-famous and never to be forgotten journey through the boundless fields of ether, and all around the moon! end. the moon-voyage. containing "from the earth to the moon," and "round the moon." by jules verne, author of "twenty thousand leagues under the sea," "among the cannibals," etc. illustrated by henry austin. * * * * * contents. "from the earth to the moon." i. the gun club ii. president barbicane's communication iii. effect of president barbicane's communication iv. answer from the cambridge observatory v. the romance of the moon vi. what it is impossible to ignore and what is no longer allowed to be believed in the united states vii. the hymn of the cannon-ball viii. history of the cannon ix. the question of powders x. one enemy against twenty-five millions of friends xi. florida and texas xii. "urbi et orbi" xiii. stony hill xiv. pickaxe and trowel xv. the ceremony of the casting xvi. the columbiad xvii. a telegram xviii. the passenger of the atlanta xix. a meeting xx. thrust and parry xxi. how a frenchman settles an affair xxii. the new citizen of the united states xxiii. the projectile compartment xxiv. the telescope of the rocky mountains xxv. final details xxvi. fire xxvii. cloudy weather xxviii. a new star * * * * * "round the moon." preliminary chapter. containing a short account of the first part of this work to serve as preface to the second i. from 10.20 p.m. to 10.47 p.m. ii. the first half-hour iii. taking possession iv. a little algebra v. the temperature of space vi. questions and answers vii. a moment of intoxication viii. at seventy-eight thousand one hundred and fourteen leagues ix. the consequences of deviation x. the observers of the moon xi. imagination and reality xii. orographical details xiii. lunar landscapes xiv. a night of three hundred and fifty-four hours and a half xv. hyperbola or parabola xvi. the southern hemisphere xvii. tycho xviii. grave questions xix. a struggle with the impossible xx. the soundings of the susquehanna xxi. j.t. maston called in xxii. picked up xxiii. the end * * * * * from the earth to the moon. * * * * * chapter i. the gun club. during the federal war in the united states a new and very influential club was established in the city of baltimore, maryland. it is well known with what energy the military instinct was developed amongst that nation of shipowners, shopkeepers, and mechanics. mere tradesmen jumped their counters to become extempore captains, colonels, and generals without having passed the military school at west point; they soon rivalled their colleagues of the old continent, and, like them, gained victories by dint of lavishing bullets, millions, and men. but where americans singularly surpassed europeans was in the science of ballistics, or of throwing massive weapons by the use of an engine; not that their arms attained a higher degree of perfection, but they were of unusual dimensions, and consequently of hitherto unknown ranges. the english, french, and prussians have nothing to learn about flank, running, enfilading, or point-blank firing; but their cannon, howitzers, and mortars are mere pocket-pistols compared with the formidable engines of american artillery. this fact ought to astonish no one. the yankees, the first mechanicians in the world, are born engineers, just as italians are musicians and germans metaphysicians. thence nothing more natural than to see them bring their audacious ingenuity to bear on the science of ballistics. hence those gigantic cannon, much less useful than sewing-machines, but quite as astonishing, and much more admired. the marvels of this style by parrott, dahlgren, and rodman are well known. there was nothing left the armstrongs, pallisers, and treuille de beaulieux but to bow before their transatlantic rivals. therefore during the terrible struggle between northerners and southerners, artillerymen were in great request; the union newspapers published their inventions with enthusiasm, and there was no little tradesman nor _naïf_ "booby" who did not bother his head day and night with calculations about impossible trajectory engines. now when an american has an idea he seeks another american to share it. if they are three, they elect a president and two secretaries. given four, they elect a clerk, and a company is established. five convoke a general meeting, and the club is formed. it thus happened at baltimore. the first man who invented a new cannon took into partnership the first man who cast it and the first man that bored it. such was the nucleus of the gun club. one month after its formation it numbered eighteen hundred and thirty-three effective members, and thirty thousand five hundred and seventy-five corresponding members. one condition was imposed as a _sine quâ non_ upon every one who wished to become a member--that of having invented, or at least perfected, a cannon; or, in default of a cannon, a firearm of some sort. but, to tell the truth, mere inventors of fifteen-barrelled rifles, revolvers, or sword-pistols did not enjoy much consideration. artillerymen were always preferred to them in every circumstance. "the estimation in which they are held," said one day a learned orator of the gun club, "is in proportion to the size of their cannon, and in direct ratio to the square of distance attained by their projectiles!" a little more and it would have been newton's law of gravitation applied to moral order. once the gun club founded, it can be easily imagined its effect upon the inventive genius of the americans. war-engines took colossal proportions, and projectiles launched beyond permitted distances cut inoffensive pedestrians to pieces. all these inventions left the timid instruments of european artillery far behind them. this may be estimated by the following figures:-formerly, "in the good old times," a thirty-six pounder, at a distance of three hundred feet, would cut up thirty-six horses, attacked in flank, and sixty-eight men. the art was then in its infancy. projectiles have since made their way. the rodman gun that sent a projectile weighing half a ton a distance of seven miles could easily have cut up a hundred and fifty horses and three hundred men. there was some talk at the gun club of making a solemn experiment with it. but if the horses consented to play their part, the men unfortunately were wanting. however that may be, the effect of these cannon was very deadly, and at each discharge the combatants fell like ears before a scythe. after such projectiles what signified the famous ball which, at coutras, in 1587, disabled twenty-five men; and the one which, at zorndorff, in 1758, killed forty fantassins; and in 1742, kesseldorf's austrian cannon, of which every shot levelled seventy enemies with the ground? what was the astonishing firing at jena or austerlitz, which decided the fate of the battle? during the federal war much more wonderful things had been seen. at the battle of gettysburg, a conical projectile thrown by a rifle-barrel cut up a hundred and seventy-three confederates, and at the passage of the potomac a rodman ball sent two hundred and fifteen southerners into an evidently better world. a formidable mortar must also be mentioned, invented by j.t. maston, a distinguished member and perpetual secretary of the gun club, the result of which was far more deadly, seeing that, at its trial shot, it killed three hundred and thirty-seven persons--by bursting, it is true. what can be added to these figures, so eloquent in themselves? nothing. so the following calculation obtained by the statistician pitcairn will be admitted without contestation: by dividing the number of victims fallen under the projectiles by that of the members of the gun club, he found that each one of them had killed, on his own account, an average of two thousand three hundred and seventy-five men and a fraction. by considering such a result it will be seen that the single preoccupation of this learned society was the destruction of humanity philanthropically, and the perfecting of firearms considered as instruments of civilisation. it was a company of exterminating angels, at bottom the best fellows in the world. it must be added that these yankees, brave as they have ever proved themselves, did not confine themselves to formulae, but sacrificed themselves to their theories. amongst them might be counted officers of every rank, those who had just made their _début_ in the profession of arms, and those who had grown old on their gun-carriage. many whose names figured in the book of honour of the gun club remained on the field of battle, and of those who came back the greater part bore marks of their indisputable valour. crutches, wooden legs, articulated arms, hands with hooks, gutta-percha jaws, silver craniums, platinum noses, nothing was wanting to the collection; and the above-mentioned pitcairn likewise calculated that in the gun club there was not quite one arm amongst every four persons, and only two legs amongst six. but these valiant artillerymen paid little heed to such small matters, and felt justly proud when the report of a battle stated the number of victims at tenfold the quantity of projectiles expended. one day, however, a sad and lamentable day, peace was signed by the survivors of the war, the noise of firing gradually ceased, the mortars were silent, the howitzers were muzzled for long enough, and the cannon, with muzzles depressed, were stored in the arsenals, the shots were piled up in the parks, the bloody reminiscences were effaced, cotton shrubs grew magnificently on the well-manured fields, mourning garments began to be worn-out, as well as sorrow, and the gun club had nothing whatever to do. certain old hands, inveterate workers, still went on with their calculations in ballistics; they still imagined gigantic bombs and unparalleled howitzers. but what was the use of vain theories that could not be put in practice? so the saloons were deserted, the servants slept in the antechambers, the newspapers grew mouldy on the tables, from dark corners issued sad snores, and the members of the gun club, formerly so noisy, now reduced to silence by the disastrous peace, slept the sleep of platonic artillery! "this is distressing," said brave tom hunter, whilst his wooden legs were carbonising at the fireplace of the smoking-room. "nothing to do! nothing to look forward to! what a tiresome existence! where is the time when cannon awoke you every morning with its joyful reports?" "that time is over," answered dandy bilsby, trying to stretch the arms he had lost. "there was some fun then! you invented an howitzer, and it was hardly cast before you ran to try it on the enemy; then you went back to the camp with an encouragement from sherman, or a shake of the hands from macclellan! but now the generals have gone back to their counters, and instead of cannon-balls they expedite inoffensive cotton bales! ah, by saint barb! the future of artillery is lost to america!" "yes, bilsby," cried colonel blomsberry, "it is too bad! one fine morning you leave your tranquil occupations, you are drilled in the use of arms, you leave baltimore for the battle-field, you conduct yourself like a hero, and in two years, three years at the latest, you are obliged to leave the fruit of so many fatigues, to go to sleep in deplorable idleness, and keep your hands in your pockets." the valiant colonel would have found it very difficult to give such a proof of his want of occupation, though it was not the pockets that were wanting. "and no war in prospect, then," said the famous j.t. maston, scratching his gutta-percha cranium with his steel hook; "there is not a cloud on the horizon now that there is so much to do in the science of artillery! i myself finished this very morning a diagram with plan, basin, and elevation of a mortar destined to change the laws of warfare!" "indeed!" replied tom hunter, thinking involuntarily of the honourable j.t. maston's last essay. "indeed!" answered maston. "but what is the use of the good results of such studies and so many difficulties conquered? it is mere waste of time. the people of the new world seem determined to live in peace, and our bellicose _tribune_ has gone as far as to predict approaching catastrophes due to the scandalous increase of population!" "yet, maston," said colonel blomsberry, "they are always fighting in europe to maintain the principle of nationalities!" "what of that?" "why, there might be something to do over there, and if they accepted our services--" "what are you thinking of?" cried bilsby. "work at ballistics for the benefit of foreigners!" "perhaps that would be better than not doing it at all," answered the colonel. "doubtless," said j.t. maston, "it would be better, but such an expedient cannot be thought of." "why so?" asked the colonel. "because their ideas of advancement would be contrary to all our american customs. those folks seem to think that you cannot be a general-in-chief without having served as second lieutenant, which comes to the same as saying that no one can point a gun that has not cast one. now that is simply--" "absurd!" replied tom hunter, whittling the arms of his chair with his bowie-knife; "and as things are so, there is nothing left for us but to plant tobacco or distil whale-oil!" "what!" shouted j.t. maston, "shall we not employ these last years of our existence in perfecting firearms? will not a fresh opportunity present itself to try the ranges of our projectiles? will the atmosphere be no longer illuminated by the lightning of our cannons? won't some international difficulty crop up that will allow us to declare war against some transatlantic power? won't france run down one of our steamers, or won't england, in defiance of the rights of nations, hang up three or four of our countrymen?" "no, maston," answered colonel blomsberry; "no such luck! no, not one of those incidents will happen; and if one did, it would be of no use to us. american sensitiveness is declining daily, and we are going to the dogs!" "yes, we are growing quite humble," replied bilsby. "and we are humiliated!" answered tom hunter. "all that is only too true," replied j.t. maston, with fresh vehemence. "there are a thousand reasons for fighting floating about, and still we don't fight! we economise legs and arms, and that to the profit of folks that don't know what to do with them. look here, without looking any farther for a motive for war, did not north america formerly belong to the english?" "doubtless," answered tom hunter, angrily poking the fire with the end of his crutch. "well," replied j.t. maston, "why should not england in its turn belong to the americans?" "it would be but justice," answered colonel blomsberry. "go and propose that to the president of the united states," cried j.t. maston, "and see what sort of a reception you would get." "it would not be a bad reception," murmured bilsby between the four teeth he had saved from battle. "i'faith," cried j.t. maston, "they need not count upon my vote in the next elections." "nor upon ours," answered with common accord these bellicose invalids. "in the meantime," continued j.t. maston, "and to conclude, if they do not furnish me with the opportunity of trying my new mortar on a real battle-field, i shall send in my resignation as member of the gun club, and i shall go and bury myself in the backwoods of arkansas." "we will follow you there," answered the interlocutors of the enterprising j.t. maston. things had come to that pass, and the club, getting more excited, was menaced with approaching dissolution, when an unexpected event came to prevent so regrettable a catastrophe. the very day after the foregoing conversation each member of the club received a circular couched in these terms:-"baltimore, october 3rd. "the president of the gun club has the honour to inform his colleagues that at the meeting on the 5th ultimo he will make them a communication of an extremely interesting nature. he therefore begs that they, to the suspension of all other business, will attend, in accordance with the present invitation, "their devoted colleague, "impey barbicane, p.g.c." chapter ii. president barbicane's communication. on the 5th of october, at 8 p.m., a dense crowd pressed into the saloons of the gun club, 21, union-square. all the members of the club residing at baltimore had gone on the invitation of their president. the express brought corresponding members by hundreds, and if the meeting-hall had not been so large, the crowd of _savants_ could not have found room in it; they overflowed into the neighbouring rooms, down the passages, and even into the courtyards; there they ran against the populace who were pressing against the doors, each trying to get into the front rank, all eager to learn the important communication of president barbicane, all pressing, squeezing, crushing with that liberty of action peculiar to the masses brought up in the idea of self-government. that evening any stranger who might have chanced to be in baltimore could not have obtained a place at any price in the large hall; it was exclusively reserved to residing or corresponding members; no one else was admitted; and the city magnates, common councillors, and select men were compelled to mingle with their inferiors in order to catch stray news from the interior. the immense hall presented a curious spectacle; it was marvellously adapted to the purpose for which it was built. lofty pillars formed of cannon, superposed upon huge mortars as a base, supported the fine ironwork of the arches--real cast-iron lacework. trophies of blunderbusses, matchlocks, arquebuses, carbines, all sorts of ancient or modern firearms, were picturesquely enlaced against the walls. the gas, in full flame, came out of a thousand revolvers grouped in the form of lustres, whilst candlesticks of pistols, and candelabra made of guns done up in sheaves, completed this display of light. models of cannons, specimens of bronze, targets spotted with shot-marks, plaques broken by the shock of the gun club, balls, assortments of rammers and sponges, chaplets of shells, necklaces of projectiles, garlands of howitzers--in a word, all the tools of the artilleryman surprised the eyes by their wonderful arrangement, and induced a belief that their real purpose was more ornamental than deadly. in the place of honour was seen, covered by a splendid glass case, a piece of breech, broken and twisted under the effort of the powder--a precious fragment of j.t. maston's cannon. at the extremity of the hall the president, assisted by four secretaries, occupied a wide platform. his chair, placed on a carved gun-carriage, was modelled upon the powerful proportions of a 32-inch mortar; it was pointed at an angle of 90 degs., and hung upon trunnions so that the president could use it as a rocking-chair, very agreeable in great heat. upon the desk, a huge iron plate, supported upon six carronades, stood a very tasteful inkstand, made of a beautifully-chased spanish piece, and a report-bell, which, when required, went off like a revolver. during the vehement discussions this new sort of bell scarcely sufficed to cover the voices of this legion of excited artillerymen. in front of the desk, benches, arranged in zigzags, like the circumvallations of intrenchment, formed a succession of bastions and curtains where the members of the gun club took their seats; and that evening, it may be said, there were plenty on the ramparts. the president was sufficiently known for all to be assured that he would not have called together his colleagues without a very great motive. impey barbicane was a man of forty, calm, cold, austere, of a singularly serious and concentrated mind, as exact as a chronometer, of an imperturbable temperament and immovable character; not very chivalrous, yet adventurous, and always bringing practical ideas to bear on the wildest enterprises; an essential new-englander, a northern colonist, the descendant of those roundheads so fatal to the stuarts, and the implacable enemy of the southern gentlemen, the ancient cavaliers of the mother country--in a word, a yankee cast in a single mould. barbicane had made a great fortune as a timber-merchant; named director of artillery during the war, he showed himself fertile in inventions; enterprising in his ideas, he contributed powerfully to the progress of ballistics, gave an immense impetus to experimental researches. he was a person of average height, having, by a rare exception in the gun club, all his limbs intact. his strongly-marked features seemed to be drawn by square and rule, and if it be true that in order to guess the instincts of a man one must look at his profile, barbicane seen thus offered the most certain indications of energy, audacity, and _sang-froid_. at that moment he remained motionless in his chair, mute, absorbed, with an inward look sheltered under his tall hat, a cylinder of black silk, which seems screwed down upon the skull of american men. his colleagues talked noisily around him without disturbing him; they questioned one another, launched into the field of suppositions, examined their president, and tried, but in vain, to make out the _x_ of his imperturbable physiognomy. just as eight o'clock struck from the fulminating clock of the large hall, barbicane, as if moved by a spring, jumped up; a general silence ensued, and the orator, in a slightly emphatic tone, spoke as follows:-"brave colleagues,--it is some time since an unfruitful peace plunged the members of the gun club into deplorable inactivity. after a period of some years, so full of incidents, we have been obliged to abandon our works and stop short on the road of progress. i do not fear to proclaim aloud that any war which would put arms in our hands again would be welcome--" "yes, war!" cried impetuous j.t. maston. "hear, hear!" was heard on every side. "but war," said barbicane, "war is impossible under actual circumstances, and, whatever my honourable interrupter may hope, long years will elapse before our cannons thunder on a field of battle. we must, therefore, make up our minds to it, and seek in another order of ideas food for the activity by which we are devoured." the assembly felt that its president was coming to the delicate point; it redoubled its attention. "a few months ago, my brave colleagues," continued barbicane, "i asked myself if, whilst still remaining in our speciality, we could not undertake some grand experiment worthy of the nineteenth century, and if the progress of ballistics would not allow us to execute it with success. i have therefore sought, worked, calculated, and the conviction has resulted from my studies that we must succeed in an enterprise that would seem impracticable in any other country. this project, elaborated at length, will form the subject of my communication; it is worthy of you, worthy of the gun club's past history, and cannot fail to make a noise in the world!" "much noise?" cried a passionate artilleryman. "much noise in the true sense of the word," answered barbicane. "don't interrupt!" repeated several voices. "i therefore beg of you, my brave colleagues," resumed the president, "to grant me all your attention." a shudder ran through the assembly. barbicane, having with a rapid gesture firmly fixed his hat on his head, continued his speech in a calm tone:-"there is not one of you, brave colleagues, who has not seen the moon, or, at least, heard of it. do not be astonished if i wish to speak to you about the queen of night. it is, perhaps, our lot to be the columbuses of this unknown world. understand me, and second me as much as you can, i will lead you to its conquest, and its name shall be joined to those of the thirty-six states that form the grand country of the union!" "hurrah for the moon!" cried the gun club with one voice. "the moon has been much studied," resumed barbicane; "its mass, density, weight, volume, constitution, movements, distance, the part it plays in the solar world, are all perfectly determined; selenographic maps have been drawn with a perfection that equals, if it does not surpass, those of terrestrial maps; photography has given to our satellite proofs of incomparable beauty--in a word, all that the sciences of mathematics, astronomy, geology, and optics can teach is known about the moon; but until now no direct communication with it has ever been established." a violent movement of interest and surprise welcomed this sentence of the orator. "allow me," he resumed, "to recall to you in few words how certain ardent minds, embarked upon imaginary journeys, pretended to have penetrated the secrets of our satellite. in the seventeenth century a certain david fabricius boasted of having seen the inhabitants of the moon with his own eyes. in 1649 a frenchman, jean baudoin, published his _journey to the moon by dominique gonzales, spanish adventurer_. at the same epoch cyrano de bergerac published the celebrated expedition that had so much success in france. later on, another frenchman (that nation took a great deal of notice of the moon), named fontenelle, wrote his _plurality of worlds_, a masterpiece of his time; but science in its progress crushes even masterpieces! about 1835, a pamphlet, translated from the _new york american_, related that sir john herschel, sent to the cape of good hope, there to make astronomical observations, had, by means of a telescope, perfected by interior lighting, brought the moon to within a distance of eighty yards. then he distinctly perceived caverns in which lived hippopotami, green mountains with golden borders, sheep with ivory horns, white deer, and inhabitants with membraneous wings like those of bats. this treatise, the work of an american named locke, had a very great success. but it was soon found out that it was a scientific mystification, and frenchmen were the first to laugh at it." "laugh at an american!" cried j.t. maston; "but that's a _casus belli_!" "be comforted, my worthy friend; before frenchmen laughed they were completely taken in by our countryman. to terminate this rapid history, i may add that a certain hans pfaal, of rotterdam, went up in a balloon filled with a gas made from azote, thirty-seven times lighter than hydrogen, and reached the moon after a journey of nineteen days. this journey, like the preceding attempts, was purely imaginary, but it was the work of a popular american writer of a strange and contemplative genius. i have named edgar poe!" "hurrah for edgar poe!" cried the assembly, electrified by the words of the president. "i have now come to an end of these attempts which i may call purely literary, and quite insufficient to establish any serious communications with the queen of night. however, i ought to add that some practical minds tried to put themselves into serious communication with her. some years ago a german mathematician proposed to send a commission of _savants_ to the steppes of siberia. there, on the vast plains, immense geometrical figures were to be traced by means of luminous reflectors; amongst others, the square of the hypothenuse, vulgarly called the 'ass's bridge.' 'any intelligent being,' said the mathematician, 'ought to understand the scientific destination of that figure. the selenites (inhabitants of the moon), if they exist, will answer by a similar figure, and, communication once established, it will be easy to create an alphabet that will allow us to hold converse with the inhabitants of the moon.' thus spoke the german mathematician, but his project was not put into execution, and until now no direct communication has existed between the earth and her satellite. but it was reserved to the practical genius of americans to put itself into communication with the sidereal world. the means of doing so are simple, easy, certain, unfailing, and will make the subject of my proposition." a hubbub and tempest of exclamations welcomed these words. there was not one of the audience who was not dominated and carried away by the words of the orator. "hear, hear! silence!" was heard on all sides. when the agitation was calmed down barbicane resumed, in a graver tone, his interrupted speech. "you know," said he, "what progress the science of ballistics has made during the last few years, and to what degree of perfection firearms would have been brought if the war had gone on. you are not ignorant in general that the power of resistance of cannons and the expansive force of powder are unlimited. well, starting from that principle, i asked myself if, by means of sufficient apparatus, established under determined conditions of resistance, it would not be possible to send a cannon-ball to the moon!" at these words an "oh!" of stupefaction escaped from a thousand panting breasts; then occurred a moment of silence, like the profound calm that precedes thunder. in fact, the thunder came, but a thunder of applause, cries, and clamour which made the meeting-hall shake again. the president tried to speak; he could not. it was only at the end of ten minutes that he succeeded in making himself heard. "let me finish," he resumed coldly. "i have looked at the question in all its aspects, and from my indisputable calculations it results that any projectile, hurled at an initial speed of twelve thousand yards a second, and directed at the moon, must necessarily reach her. i have, therefore, the honour of proposing to you, my worthy colleagues, the attempting of this little experiment." chapter iii. effect of president barbicane's communication. it is impossible to depict the effect produced by the last words of the honourable president. what cries! what vociferations! what a succession of groans, hurrahs, cheers, and all the onomatopoeia of which the american language is so full. it was an indescribable hubbub and disorder. mouths, hands, and feet made as much noise as they could. all the weapons in this artillery museum going off at once would not have more violently agitated the waves of sound. that is not surprising; there are cannoneers nearly as noisy as their cannons. barbicane remained calm amidst these enthusiastic clamours; perhaps he again wished to address some words to his colleagues, for his gestures asked for silence, and his fulminating bell exhausted itself in violent detonations; it was not even heard. he was soon dragged from his chair, carried in triumph, and from the hands of his faithful comrades he passed into those of the no less excited crowd. nothing can astonish an american. it has often been repeated that the word "impossible" is not french; the wrong dictionary must have been taken by mistake. in america everything is easy, everything is simple, and as to mechanical difficulties, they are dead before they are born. between the barbicane project and its realisation not one true yankee would have allowed himself to see even the appearance of a difficulty. as soon said as done. the triumphant march of the president was prolonged during the evening. a veritable torchlight procession--irish, germans, frenchmen, scotchmen--all the heterogeneous individuals that compose the population of maryland--shouted in their maternal tongue, and the cheering was unanimous. precisely as if she knew it was all about her, the moon shone out then with serene magnificence, eclipsing other lights with her intense irradiation. all the yankees directed their eyes towards the shining disc; some saluted her with their hands, others called her by the sweetest names; between eight o'clock and midnight an optician in jones-fall-street made a fortune by selling field-glasses. the queen of night was looked at through them like a lady of high life. the americans acted in regard to her with the freedom of proprietors. it seemed as if the blonde phoebe belonged to these enterprising conquerors and already formed part of the union territory. and yet the only question was that of sending a projectile--a rather brutal way of entering into communication even with a satellite, but much in vogue amongst civilised nations. midnight had just struck, and the enthusiasm did not diminish; it was kept up in equal doses in all classes of the population; magistrates, _savants_, merchants, tradesmen, street-porters, intelligent as well as "green" men were moved even in their most delicate fibres. it was a national enterprise; the high town, low town, the quays bathed by the waters of the patapsco, the ships, imprisoned in their docks, overflowed with crowds intoxicated with joy, gin, and whisky; everybody talked, argued, perorated, disputed, approved, and applauded, from the gentleman comfortably stretched on the bar-room couch before his glass of "sherry-cobbler" to the waterman who got drunk upon "knock-me-down" in the dark taverns of fell's point. however, about 2 a.m. the emotion became calmer. president barbicane succeeded in getting home almost knocked to pieces. a hercules could not have resisted such enthusiasm. the crowd gradually abandoned the squares and streets. the four railroads of ohio, susquehanna, philadelphia, and washington, which converge at baltimore, took the heterogeneous population to the four corners of the united states, and the town reposed in a relative tranquillity. it would be an error to believe that during this memorable evening baltimore alone was agitated. the large towns of the union, new york, boston, albany, washington, richmond, new orleans, charlestown, la mobile of texas, massachusetts, michigan, and florida, all shared in the delirium. the thirty thousand correspondents of the gun club were acquainted with their president's letter, and awaited with equal impatience the famous communication of the 5th of october. the same evening as the orator uttered his speech it ran along the telegraph wires, across the states of the union, with a speed of 348,447 miles a second. it may, therefore, be said with absolute certainty that at the same moment the united states of america, ten times as large as france, cheered with a single voice, and twenty-five millions of hearts, swollen with pride, beat with the same pulsation. the next day five hundred daily, weekly, monthly, or bi-monthly newspapers took up the question; they examined it under its different aspects--physical, meteorological, economical, or moral, from a political or social point of view. they debated whether the moon was a finished world, or if she was not still undergoing transformation. did she resemble the earth in the time when the atmosphere did not yet exist? what kind of spectacle would her hidden hemisphere present to our terrestrial spheroid? granting that the question at present was simply about sending a projectile to the queen of night, every one saw in that the starting-point of a series of experiments; all hoped that one day america would penetrate the last secrets of the mysterious orb, and some even seemed to fear that her conquest would disturb the balance of power in europe. the project once under discussion, not one of the papers suggested a doubt of its realisation; all the papers, treatises, bulletins, and magazines published by scientific, literary, or religious societies enlarged upon its advantages, and the "natural history society" of boston, the "science and art society" of albany, the "geographical and statistical society" of new york, the "american philosophical society" of philadelphia, and the "smithsonian institution" of washington sent in a thousand letters their congratulations to the gun club, with immediate offers of service and money. it may be said that no proposition ever had so many adherents; there was no question of hesitations, doubts, or anxieties. as to the jokes, caricatures, and comic songs that would have welcomed in europe, and, above all, in france, the idea of sending a projectile to the moon, they would have been turned against their author; all the "life-preservers" in the world would have been powerless to guarantee him against the general indignation. there are things that are not to be laughed at in the new world. impey barbicane became from that day one of the greatest citizens of the united states, something like a washington of science, and one fact amongst several will serve to show the sudden homage which was paid by a nation to one man. some days after the famous meeting of the gun club the manager of an english company announced at the baltimore theatre a representation of _much ado about nothing_, but the population of the town, seeing in the title a damaging allusion to the projects of president barbicane, invaded the theatre, broke the seats, and forced the unfortunate manager to change the play. like a sensible man, the manager, bowing to public opinion, replaced the offending comedy by _as you like it_, and for several weeks he had fabulous houses. chapter iv. answer from the cambridge observatory. in the meantime barbicane did not lose an instant amidst the enthusiasm of which he was the object. his first care was to call together his colleagues in the board-room of the gun club. there, after a debate, they agreed to consult astronomers about the astronomical part of their enterprise. their answer once known, they would then discuss the mechanical means, and nothing would be neglected to assure the success of their great experiment. a note in precise terms, containing special questions, was drawn up and addressed to the observatory of cambridge in massachusetts. this town, where the first university of the united states was founded, is justly celebrated for its astronomical staff. there are assembled the greatest men of science; there is the powerful telescope which enabled bond to resolve the nebula of andromeda and clarke to discover the satellite of sirius. this celebrated institution was, therefore, worthy in every way of the confidence of the gun club. after two days the answer, impatiently awaited, reached the hands of president barbicane. it ran as follows:-"_the director of the cambridge observatory to the president of the gun club at baltimore_. "on the receipt of your favour of the 6th inst., addressed to the observatory of cambridge in the name of the members of the baltimore gun club, we immediately called a meeting of our staff, who have deemed it expedient to answer as follows:-"the questions proposed to it were these:-"'1. is it possible to send a projectile to the moon? "'2. what is the exact distance that separates the earth and her satellite? "'3. what would be the duration of the projectile's transit to which a sufficient initial speed had been given, and consequently at what moment should it be hurled so as to reach the moon at a particular point? "'4. at what moment would the moon present the most favourable position for being reached by the projectile? "'5. what point in the heavens ought the cannon, destined to hurl the projectile, be aimed at? "'6. what place in the heavens will the moon occupy at the moment when the projectile will start?' "regarding question no. 1, 'is it possible to send a projectile to the moon?' "yes, it is possible to send a projectile to the moon if it is given an initial velocity of 1,200 yards a second. calculations prove that this speed is sufficient. in proportion to the distance from the earth the force of gravitation diminishes in an inverse ratio to the square of the distance--that is to say, that for a distance three times greater that force is nine times less. in consequence, the weight of the projectile will decrease rapidly, and will end by being completely annulled at the moment when the attraction of the moon will be equal to that of the earth--that is to say, at the 47/52 of the distance. at that moment the projectile will have no weight at all, and if it clears that point it will fall on to the moon only by the effect of lunar gravitation. the theoretic possibility of the experiment is, therefore, quite demonstrated; as to its success, that depends solely in the power of the engine employed. "regarding question no. 2, 'what is the exact distance that separates the earth from her satellite?' "the moon does not describe a circle round the earth, but an ellipse, of which our earth occupies one of the foci; the consequence is, therefore, that at certain times it approaches nearer to, and at others recedes farther from, the earth, or, in astronomical language, it has its apogee and its perigee. at its apogee the moon is at 247,552 miles from the earth, and at its perigee at 218,657 miles only, which makes a difference of 28,895, or more than a ninth of the distance. the perigee distance is, therefore, the one that should give us the basis of all calculations. "regarding question no. 3, 'what would be the duration of the projectile's transit to which a sufficient initial speed has been given, and consequently at what moment should it be hurled so as to reach the moon at a particular point?' "if the projectile kept indefinitely the initial speed of 12,000 yards a second, it would only take about nine hours to reach its destination; but as that initial velocity will go on decreasing, it will happen, everything calculated upon, that the projectile will take 300,000 seconds, or 83 hours and 20 minutes, to reach the point where the terrestrial and lunar gravitations are equal, and from that point it will fall upon the moon in 50,000 seconds, or 13 hours, 53 minutes, and 20 seconds. it must, therefore, be hurled 97 hours, 13 minutes, and 20 seconds before the arrival of the moon at the point aimed at. "regarding question no. 4, 'at what moment would the moon present the most favourable position for being reached by the projectile?' "according to what has been said above the epoch of the moon's perigee must first be chosen, and at the moment when she will be crossing her zenith, which will still further diminish the entire distance by a length equal to the terrestrial radius--i.e., 3,919 miles; consequently, the passage to be accomplished will be 214,976 miles. but the moon is not always at her zenith when she reaches her perigee, which is once a month. she is only under the two conditions simultaneously at long intervals of time. this coincidence of perigee and zenith must be waited for. it happens fortunately that on december 4th of next year the moon will offer these two conditions; at midnight she will be at her perigee and her zenith--that is to say, at her shortest distance from the earth and at her zenith at the same time. "regarding question no. 5, 'at what point in the heavens ought the cannon destined to hurl the projectile be aimed?' "the preceding observations being admitted, the cannon ought to be aimed at the zenith of the place (the zenith is the spot situated vertically above the head of a spectator), so that its range will be perpendicular to the plane of the horizon, and the projectile will pass the soonest beyond the range of terrestrial gravitation. but for the moon to reach the zenith of a place that place must not exceed in latitude the declination of the luminary--in other words, it must be comprised between 0° and 28° of north or south latitude. in any other place the range must necessarily be oblique, which would seriously affect the success of the experiment. "regarding question no. 6, 'what place will the moon occupy in the heavens at the moment of the projectile's departure?' "at the moment when the projectile is hurled into space, the moon, which travels forward 13° 10' 35" each day, will be four times as distant from her zenith point--i.e., by 52° 42' 20", a space which corresponds to the distance she will travel during the transit of the projectile. but as the deviation which the rotatory movement of the earth will impart to the shock must also be taken into account, and as the projectile cannot reach the moon until after a deviation equal to sixteen radii of the earth, which, calculated upon the moon's orbit, is equal to about 11°, it is necessary to add these 11° to those caused by the already-mentioned delay of the moon, or, in round numbers, 64°. thus, at the moment of firing, the visual radius applied to the moon will describe with the vertical line of the place an angle of 64°. "such are the answers to the questions proposed to the observatory of cambridge by the members of the gun club. "to sum up-"1st. the cannon must be placed in a country situated between 0° and 28° of north or south latitude. "2nd. it must be aimed at the zenith of the place. "3rd. the projectile must have an initial speed of 12,000 yards a second. "4th. it must be hurled on december 1st of next year, at 10hrs. 46mins. 40secs. p.m. "5th. it will meet the moon four days after its departure on december 4th, at midnight precisely, at the moment she arrives at her zenith. "the members of the gun club ought, therefore, at once to commence the labour necessitated by such an enterprise, and be ready to put them into execution at the moment fixed upon, for they will not find the moon in the same conditions of perigee and zenith till eighteen years and eleven days later. "the staff of the observatory of cambridge puts itself entirely at their disposition for questions of theoretic astronomy, and begs to join its congratulations to those of the whole of america. "on behalf of the staff, "j.m. belfast, "_director of the observatory of cambridge_." chapter v. the romance of the moon. a spectator endowed with infinite power of sight, and placed at the unknown centre round which gravitates the universe, would have seen myriads of atoms filling all space during the chaotic epoch of creation. but by degrees, as centuries went on, a change took place; a law of gravitation manifested itself which the wandering atoms obeyed; these atoms, combined chemically according to their affinities, formed themselves into molecules, and made those nebulous masses with which the depths of the heavens are strewed. these masses were immediately animated by a movement of rotation round their central point. this centre, made of vague molecules, began to turn on itself whilst progressively condensing; then, following the immutable laws of mechanics, in proportion as its volume became diminished by condensation its movement of rotation was accelerated, and these two effects persisting, there resulted a principal planet, the centre of the nebulous mass. by watching attentively the spectator would then have seen other molecules in the mass behave like the central planet, and condense in the same manner by a movement of progressively-accelerated rotation, and gravitate round it under the form of innumerable stars. the nebulae, of which astronomers count nearly 5,000 at present, were formed. amongst these 5,000 nebulae there is one that men have called the milky way, and which contains eighteen millions of stars, each of which has become the centre of a solar world. if the spectator had then specially examined amongst these eighteen millions of stars one of the most modest and least brilliant, a star of the fourth order, the one that proudly named itself the sun, all the phenomena to which the formation of the universe is due would have successively taken place under his eyes. in fact, he would have perceived this sun still in its gaseous state, and composed of mobile molecules; he would have perceived it turning on its own axis to finish its work of concentration. this movement, faithful to the laws of mechanics, would have been accelerated by the diminution of volume, and a time would have come when the centrifugal force would have overpowered the centripetal, which causes the molecules all to tend towards the centre. then another phenomenon would have passed before the eyes of the spectator, and the molecules situated in the plane of the equator would have formed several concentric rings like that of saturn round the sun. in their turn these rings of cosmic matter, seized with a movement of rotation round the central mass, would have been broken up into secondary nebulae--that is to say, into planets. if the spectator had then concentrated all his attention on these planets he would have seen them behave exactly like the sun and give birth to one or more cosmic rings, origin of those secondary bodies which we call satellites. thus in going up from the atom to the molecule, from the molecule to the nebulae, and from the nebulae to the principal star, from the principal star to the sun, from the sun to the planet, and from the planet to the satellite, we have the whole series of transformations undergone by the celestial powers from the first days of the universe. the sun seems lost amidst the immensities of the stellar universe, and yet it is related, by actual theories of science, to the nebula of the milky way. centre of a world, and small as it appears amidst the ethereal regions, it is still enormous, for its size is 1,400,000 times that of the earth. around it gravitate eight planets, struck off from its own mass in the first days of creation. these are, in proceeding from the nearest to the most distant, mercury, venus, the earth, mars, jupiter, saturn, uranus, and neptune. between mars and jupiter circulate regularly other smaller bodies, the wandering _débris_, perhaps, of a star broken up into thousands of pieces, of which the telescope has discovered eighty-two at present. some of these asteroids are so small that they could be walked round in a single day by going at a gymnastic pace. of these attendant bodies which the sun maintains in their elliptical orbit by the great law of gravitation, some possess satellites of their own. uranus has eight, saturn eight, jupiter four, neptune three perhaps, and the earth one; this latter, one of the least important of the solar world, is called the moon, and it is that one that the enterprising genius of the americans means to conquer. the queen of night, from her relative proximity and the spectacle rapidly renewed of her different phases, at first divided the attention of the inhabitants of the earth with the sun; but the sun tires the eyesight, and the splendour of its light forces its admirers to lower their eyes. the blonde phoebe, more humane, graciously allows herself to be seen in her modest grace; she is gentle to the eye, not ambitious, and yet she sometimes eclipses her brother the radiant apollo, without ever being eclipsed by him. the mahommedans understood what gratitude they owed to this faithful friend of the earth, and they ruled their months at 29-1/2 days on her revolution. the first people of the world dedicated particular worship to this chaste goddess. the egyptians called her isis, the phoenicians astarte, the greeks phoebe, daughter of jupiter and latona, and they explained her eclipses by the mysterious visits of diana and the handsome endymion. the mythological legend relates that the nemean lion traversed the country of the moon before its apparition upon earth, and the poet agesianax, quoted by plutarch, celebrated in his sweet lines its soft eyes, charming nose, and admirable mouth, formed by the luminous parts of the adorable selene. but though the ancients understood the character, temperament, and, in a word, moral qualities of the moon from a mythological point of view, the most learned amongst them remained very ignorant of selenography. several astronomers, however, of ancient times discovered certain particulars now confirmed by science. though the arcadians pretended they had inhabited the earth at an epoch before the moon existed, though simplicius believed her immovable and fastened to the crystal vault, though tacitus looked upon her as a fragment broken off from the solar orbit, and clearch, the disciple of aristotle, made of her a polished mirror upon which were reflected the images of the ocean--though, in short, others only saw in her a mass of vapours exhaled by the earth, or a globe half fire and half ice that turned on itself, other _savants_, by means of wise observations and without optical instruments, suspected most of the laws that govern the queen of night. thus thales of miletus, b.c. 460, gave out the opinion that the moon was lighted up by the sun. aristarchus of samos gave the right explanation of her phases. cleomenus taught that she shone by reflected light. berose the chaldean discovered that the duration of her movement of rotation was equal to that of her movement of revolution, and he thus explained why the moon always presented the same side. lastly, hipparchus, 200 years before the christian era, discovered some inequalities in the apparent movements of the earth's satellite. these different observations were afterwards confirmed, and other astronomers profited by them. ptolemy in the second century, and the arabian aboul wefa in the tenth, completed the remarks of hipparchus on the inequalities that the moon undergoes whilst following the undulating line of its orbit under the action of the sun. then copernicus, in the fifteenth century, and tycho brahe, in the sixteenth, completely exposed the system of the world and the part that the moon plays amongst the celestial bodies. at that epoch her movements were pretty well known, but very little of her physical constitution was known. it was then that galileo explained the phenomena of light produced in certain phases by the existence of mountains, to which he gave an average height of 27,000 feet. after him, hevelius, an astronomer of dantzig, lowered the highest altitudes to 15,000 feet; but his contemporary, riccioli, brought them up again to 21,000 feet. herschel, at the end of the eighteenth century, armed with a powerful telescope, considerably reduced the preceding measurements. he gave a height of 11,400 feet to the highest mountains, and brought down the average of different heights to little more than 2,400 feet. but herschel was mistaken too, and the observations of schroeter, louville, halley, nasmyth, bianchini, pastorff, lohrman, gruithuysen, and especially the patient studies of mm. boeer and moedler, were necessary to definitely resolve the question. thanks to these _savants_, the elevation of the mountains of the moon is now perfectly known. boeer and moedler measured 1,905 different elevations, of which six exceed 15,000 feet and twenty-two exceed 14,400 feet. their highest summit towers to a height of 22,606 feet above the surface of the lunar disc. at the same time the survey of the moon was being completed; she appeared riddled with craters, and her essentially volcanic nature was affirmed by each observation. from the absence of refraction in the rays of the planets occulted by her it is concluded that she can have no atmosphere. this absence of air entails absence of water; it therefore became manifest that the selenites, in order to live under such conditions, must have a special organisation, and differ singularly from the inhabitants of the earth. lastly, thanks to new methods, more perfected instruments searched the moon without intermission, leaving not a point of her surface unexplored, and yet her diameter measures 2,150 miles; her surface is one-thirteenth of the surface of the globe, and her volume one-forty-ninth of the volume of the terrestrial spheroid; but none of her secrets could escape the astronomers' eyes, and these clever _savants_ carried their wonderful observations still further. thus they remarked that when the moon was at her full the disc appeared in certain places striped with white lines, and during her phases striped with black lines. by prosecuting the study of these with greater precision they succeeded in making out the exact nature of these lines. they are long and narrow furrows sunk between parallel ridges, bordering generally upon the edges of the craters; their length varied from ten to one hundred miles, and their width was about 1,600 yards. astronomers called them furrows, and that was all they could do; they could not ascertain whether they were the dried-up beds of ancient rivers or not. the americans hope, some day or other, to determine this geological question. they also undertake to reconnoitre the series of parallel ramparts discovered on the surface of the moon by gruithuysen, a learned professor of munich, who considered them to be a system of elevated fortifications raised by selenite engineers. these two still obscure points, and doubtless many others, can only be definitely settled by direct communication with the moon. as to the intensity of her light there is nothing more to be learnt; it is 300,000 times weaker than that of the sun, and its heat has no appreciable action upon thermometers; as to the phenomenon known as the "ashy light," it is naturally explained by the effect of the sun's rays transmitted from the earth to the moon, and which seem to complete the lunar disc when it presents a crescent form during its first and last phases. such was the state of knowledge acquired respecting the earth's satellite which the gun club undertook to perfect under all its aspects, cosmographical, geographical, geological, political, and moral. chapter vi. what it is impossible to ignore and what is no longer allowed to be believed in the united states. the immediate effect of barbicane's proposition was that of bringing out all astronomical facts relative to the queen of night. everybody began to study her assiduously. it seemed as if the moon had appeared on the horizon for the first time, and that no one had ever seen her in the sky before. she became the fashion; she was the lion of the day, without appearing less modest on that account, and took her place amongst the "stars" without being any the prouder. the newspapers revived old anecdotes in which this "sun of the wolves" played a part; they recalled the influence which the ignorance of past ages had ascribed to her; they sang about her in every tone; a little more and they would have quoted her witty sayings; the whole of america was filled with selenomania. the scientific journals treated the question which touched upon the enterprise of the gun club more specially; they published the letter from the observatory of cambridge, they commented upon it and approved of it without reserve. in short, even the most ignorant yankee was no longer allowed to be ignorant of a single fact relative to his satellite, nor, to the oldest women amongst them, to have any superstitions about her left. science flooded them; it penetrated into their eyes and ears; it was impossible to be an ass--in astronomy. until then many people did not know how the distance between the earth and the moon had been calculated. this fact was taken advantage of to explain to them that it was done by measuring the parallax of the moon. if the word "parallax" seemed new to them, they were told it was the angle formed by two straight lines drawn from either extremity of the earth's radius to the moon. if they were in doubt about the perfection of this method, it was immediately proved to them that not only was the mean distance 234,347 miles, but that astronomers were right to within seventy miles. to those who were not familiar with the movements of the moon, the newspapers demonstrated daily that she possesses two distinct movements, the first being that of rotation upon her axis, the second that of revolution round the earth, accomplishing both in the same time--that is to say, in 27-1/3 days. the movement of rotation is the one that causes night and day on the surface of the moon, only there is but one day and one night in a lunar month, and they each last 354-1/3 hours. but, happily, the face, turned towards the terrestrial globe, is lighted by it with an intensity equal to the light of fourteen moons. as to the other face, the one always invisible, it has naturally 354 hours of absolute night, tempered only by "the pale light that falls from the stars." this phenomenon is due solely to the peculiarity that the movements of rotation and revolution are accomplished in rigorously equal periods, a phenomenon which, according to cassini and herschel, is common to the satellites of jupiter, and, very probably to the other satellites. some well-disposed but rather unyielding minds did not quite understand at first how, if the moon invariably shows the same face to the earth during her revolution, she describes one turn round herself in the same period of time. to such it was answered--"go into your dining-room, and turn round the table so as always to keep your face towards the centre; when your circular walk is ended you will have described one circle round yourselves, since your eye will have successively traversed every point of the room. well, then, the room is the heavens, the table is the earth, and you are the moon!" and they go away delighted with the comparison. thus, then, the moon always presents the same face to the earth; still, to be quite exact, it should be added that in consequence of certain fluctuations from north to south and from west to east, called libration, she shows rather more than the half of her disc, about 0.57. when the ignoramuses knew as much as the director of the cambridge observatory about the moon's movement of rotation they began to make themselves uneasy about her movement of revolution round the earth, and twenty scientific reviews quickly gave them the information they wanted. they then learnt that the firmament, with its infinite stars, may be looked upon as a vast dial upon which the moon moves, indicating the time to all the inhabitants of the earth; that it is in this movement that the queen of night shows herself in her different phases, that she is full when she is in opposition with the sun--that is to say, when the three bodies are on a line with each other, the earth being in the centre; that the moon is new when she is in conjunction with the sun--that is to say, when she is between the sun and the earth; lastly, that the moon is in her first or last quarter when she makes, with the sun and the earth, a right angle of which she occupies the apex. some perspicacious yankees inferred in consequence that eclipses could only take place at the periods of conjunction or opposition, and their reasoning was just. in conjunction the moon can eclipse the sun, whilst in opposition it is the earth that can eclipse him in her turn; and the reason these eclipses do not happen twice in a lunar month is because the plane upon which the moon moves is elliptical like that of the earth. as to the height which the queen of night can attain above the horizon, the letter from the observatory of cambridge contained all that can be said about it. every one knew that this height varies according to the latitude of the place where the observation is taken. but the only zones of the globe where the moon reaches her zenith--that is to say, where she is directly above the heads of the spectators--are necessarily comprised between the 28th parallels and the equator. hence the important recommendation given to attempt the experiment upon some point in this part of the globe, in order that the projectile may be hurled perpendicularly, and may thus more quickly escape the attraction of gravitation. this was a condition essential to the success of the enterprise, and public opinion was much exercised thereupon. as to the line followed by the moon in her revolution round the earth, the observatory of cambridge had demonstrated to the most ignorant that it is an ellipse of which the earth occupies one of the foci. these elliptical orbits are common to all the planets as well as to all the satellites, and rational mechanism rigorously proves that it could not be otherwise. it was clearly understood that when at her apogee the moon was farthest from the earth, and when at her perigee she was nearest to our planet. this, therefore, was what every american knew whether he wished to or no, and what no one could decently be ignorant of. but if these true principles rapidly made their way, certain illusive fears and many errors were with difficulty cleared away. some worthy people maintained, for instance, that the moon was an ancient comet, which, whilst travelling along its elongated orbit round the sun, passed near to the earth, and was retained in her circle of attraction. the drawing-room astronomers pretended to explain thus the burnt aspect of the moon, a misfortune of which they accused the sun. only when they were told to notice that comets have an atmosphere, and that the moon has little or none, they did not know what to answer. others belonging to the class of "shakers" manifested certain fears about the moon; they had heard that since the observations made in the times of the caliphs her movement of revolution had accelerated in a certain proportion; they thence very logically concluded that an acceleration of movement must correspond to a diminution in the distance between the two bodies, and that this double effect going on infinitely the moon would one day end by falling into the earth. however, they were obliged to reassure themselves and cease to fear for future generations when they were told that according to the calculations of laplace, an illustrious french mathematician, this acceleration of movement was restricted within very narrow limits, and that a proportional diminution will follow it. thus the equilibrium of the solar world cannot be disturbed in future centuries. lastly there was the superstitious class of ignoramuses to be dealt with; these are not content with being ignorant; they know what does not exist, and about the moon they know a great deal. some of them considered her disc to be a polished mirror by means of which people might see themselves from different points on the earth, and communicate their thoughts to one another. others pretended that out of 1,000 new moons 950 had brought some notable change, such as cataclysms, revolutions, earthquakes, deluges, &c.; they therefore believed in the mysterious influence of the queen of night on human destinies; they think that every selenite is connected by some sympathetic tie with each inhabitant of the earth; they pretend, with dr. mead, that she entirely governs the vital system--that boys are born during the new moon and girls during her last quarter, &c., &c. but at last it became necessary to give up these vulgar errors, to come back to truth; and if the moon, stripped of her influence, lost her prestige in the minds of courtesans of every power, if some turned their backs on her, the immense majority were in her favour. as to the yankees, they had no other ambition than that of taking possession of this new continent of the sky, and to plant upon its highest summit the star-spangled banner of the united states of america. chapter vii. the hymn of the cannon-ball. the cambridge observatory had, in its memorable letter of october 7th, treated the question from an astronomical point of view--the mechanical point had still to be treated. it was then that the practical difficulties would have seemed insurmountable to any other country but america; but there they were looked upon as play. president barbicane had, without losing any time, nominated a working committee in the heart of the gun club. this committee was in three sittings to elucidate the three great questions of the cannon, the projectile, and the powder. it was composed of four members very learned upon these matters. barbicane had the casting vote, and with him were associated general morgan, major elphinstone, and, lastly, the inevitable j.t. maston, to whom were confided the functions of secretary. on the 8th of october the committee met at president barbicane's house, no. 3, republican-street; as it was important that the stomach should not trouble so important a debate, the four members of the gun club took their seats at a table covered with sandwiches and teapots. j.t. maston immediately screwed his pen on to his steel hook and the business began. barbicane opened the meeting as follows:-"dear colleagues," said he, "we have to solve one of the more important problems in ballistics--that greatest of sciences which treats of the movement of projectiles--that is to say, of bodies hurled into space by some power of impulsion and then left to themselves." "oh, ballistics, ballistics!" cried j.t. maston in a voice of emotion. "perhaps," continued barbicane, "the most logical thing would be to consecrate this first meeting to discussing the engine." "certainly," answered general morgan. "nevertheless," continued barbicane, "after mature deliberation, it seems to me that the question of the projectile ought to precede that of the cannon, and that the dimensions of the latter ought to depend upon the dimensions of the former." j.t. maston here interrupted the president, and was heard with the attention which his magnificent past career deserved. "my dear friends," said he in an inspired tone, "our president is right to give the question of the projectile the precedence of every other; the cannon-ball we mean to hurl at the moon will be our messenger, our ambassador, and i ask your permission to regard it from an entirely moral point of view." this new way of looking at a projectile excited the curiosity of the members of the committee; they therefore listened attentively to the words of j.t. maston. "my dear colleagues," he continued, "i will be brief. i will lay aside the material projectile--the projectile that kills--in order to take up the mathematical projectile--the moral projectile. a cannon-ball is to me the most brilliant manifestation of human power, and by creating it man has approached nearest to the creator!" "hear, hear!" said major elphinstone. "in fact," cried the orator, "if god has made the stars and the planets, man has made the cannon-ball--that criterion of terrestrial speed--that reduction of bodies wandering in space which are really nothing but projectiles. let providence claim the speed of electricity, light, the stars, comets, planets, satellites, sound, and wind! but ours is the speed of the cannon-ball--a hundred times greater than that of trains and the fastest horses!" j.t. maston was inspired; his accents became quite lyrical as he chanted the hymn consecrated to the projectile. "would you like figures?" continued he; "here are eloquent ones. take the simple 24 pounder; though it moves 80,000 times slower than electricity, 64,000 times slower than light, 76 times slower than the earth in her movement of translation round the sun, yet when it leaves the cannon it goes quicker than sound; it goes at the rate of 14 miles a minute, 840 miles an hour, 20,100 miles a day--that is to say, at the speed of the points of the equator in the globe's movement of rotation, 7,336,500 miles a year. it would therefore take 11 days to get to the moon, 12 years to get to the sun, 360 years to reach neptune, at the limits of the solar world. that is what this modest cannon-ball, the work of our hands, can do! what will it be, therefore, when, with twenty times that speed, we shall hurl it with a rapidity of seven miles a second? ah! splendid shot! superb projectile! i like to think you will be received up there with the honours due to a terrestrial ambassador!" cheers greeted this brilliant peroration, and j.t. maston, overcome with emotion, sat down amidst the felicitations of his colleagues. "and now," said barbicane, "that we have given some time to poetry, let us proceed to facts." "we are ready," answered the members of the committee as they each demolished half-a-dozen sandwiches. "you know what problem it is we have to solve," continued the president; "it is that of endowing a projectile with a speed of 12,000 yards per second. i have every reason to believe that we shall succeed, but at present let us see what speeds we have already obtained; general morgan can edify us upon that subject." "so much the more easily," answered the general, "because during the war i was a member of the experiment commission. the 100-pound cannon of dahlgren, with a range of 5,000 yards, gave their projectiles an initial speed of 500 yards a second." "yes; and the rodman columbiad?" (the americans gave the name of "columbiad" to their enormous engines of destruction) asked the president. "the rodman columbiad, tried at fort hamilton, near new york, hurled a projectile, weighing half a ton, a distance of six miles, with a speed of 800 yards a second, a result which neither armstrong nor palliser has obtained in england." "englishmen are nowhere!" said j.t. maston, pointing his formidable steel hook eastward. "then," resumed barbicane, "a speed of 800 yards is the maximum obtained at present." "yes," answered morgan. "i might add, however," replied j.t. maston, "that if my mortar had not been blown up--" "yes, but it was blown up," replied barbicane with a benevolent gesture. "we must take the speed of 800 yards for a starting point. we must keep till another meeting the discussion of the means used to produce this speed; allow me to call your attention to the dimensions which our projectile must have. of course it must be something very different to one of half a ton weight." "why?" asked the major. "because," quickly answered j.t. maston, "it must be large enough to attract the attention of the inhabitants of the moon, supposing there are any." "yes," answered barbicane, "and for another reason still more important." "what do you mean, barbicane?" asked the major. "i mean that it is not enough to send up a projectile and then to think no more about it; we must follow it in its transit." "what?" said the general, slightly surprised at the proposition. "certainly," replied barbicane, like a man who knew what he was saying, "or our experiment will be without result." "but then," replied the major, "you will have to give the projectile enormous dimensions." "no. please grant me your attention. you know that optical instruments have acquired great perfection; certain telescopes increase objects six thousand, and bring the moon to within a distance of forty miles. now at that distance objects sixty feet square are perfectly visible. the power of penetration of the telescope has not been increased, because that power is only exercised to the detriment of their clearness, and the moon, which is only a reflecting mirror, does not send a light intense enough for the telescopes to increase objects beyond that limit." "very well, then, what do you mean to do?" asked the general. "do you intend giving a diameter of sixty feet to your projectile?" "no." "you are not going to take upon yourself the task of making the moon more luminous?" "i am, though." "that's rather strong!" exclaimed maston. "yes, but simple," answered barbicane. "if i succeed in lessening the density of the atmosphere which the moon's light traverses, shall i not render that light more intense?" "evidently." "in order to obtain that result i shall only have to establish my telescope upon some high mountain. we can do that." "i give in," answered the major; "you have such a way of simplifying things! what enlargement do you hope to obtain thus?" "one of 48,000 times, which will bring the moon within five miles only, and objects will only need a diameter of nine feet." "perfect!" exclaimed j.t. maston; "then our projectile will have a diameter of nine feet?" "precisely." "allow me to inform you, however," returned major elphinstone, "that its weight will still be--" "oh, major!" answered barbicane, "before discussing its weight allow me to tell you that our forefathers did marvels in that way. far be it from me to pretend that ballistics have not progressed, but it is well to know that in the middle ages surprising results were obtained, i dare affirm, even more surprising than ours." "justify your statement," exclaimed j.t. maston. "nothing is easier," answered barbicane; "i can give you some examples. at the siege of constantinople by mahomet ii., in 1453, they hurled stone bullets that weighed 1,900 lbs.; at malta, in the time of its knights, a certain cannon of fort saint elme hurled projectiles weighing 2,500 lbs. according to a french historian, under louis xi. a mortar hurled a bomb of 500 lbs. only; but that bomb, fired at the bastille, a place where mad men imprisoned wise ones, fell at charenton, where wise men imprison mad ones." "very well," said j.t. maston. "since, what have we seen, after all? the armstrong cannons hurl projectiles of 500 lbs., and the rodman columbiads projectiles of half a ton! it seems, then, that if projectiles have increased in range they have lost in weight. now, if we turn our efforts in that direction, we must succeed with the progress of the science in doubling the weight of the projectiles of mahomet ii. and the knights of malta." "that is evident," answered the major; "but what metal do you intend to employ for your own projectile?" "simply cast-iron," said general morgan. "cast-iron!" exclaimed j.t. maston disdainfully, "that's very common for a bullet destined to go to the moon." "do not let us exaggerate, my honourable friend," answered morgan; "cast-iron will be sufficient." "then," replied major elphinstone, "as the weight of the projectile is in proportion to its volume, a cast-iron bullet, measuring nine feet in diameter, will still be frightfully heavy." "yes, if it be solid, but not if it be hollow," said barbicane. "hollow!--then it will be an obus?" "in which we can put despatches," replied j.t. maston, "and specimens of our terrestrial productions." "yes, an obus," answered barbicane; "that is what it must be; a solid bullet of 108 inches would weigh more than 200,000 lbs., a weight evidently too great; however, as it is necessary to give the projectile a certain stability, i propose to give it a weight of 20,000 lbs." "what will be the thickness of the metal?" asked the major. "if we follow the usual proportions," replied morgan, "a diameter of 800 inches demands sides two feet thick at least." "that would be much too thick," answered barbicane; "we do not want a projectile to pierce armour-plate; it only needs sides strong enough to resist the pressure of the powder-gas. this, therefore, is the problem:--what thickness ought an iron obus to have in order to weigh only 20,000 lbs.? our clever calculator, mr. maston, will tell us at once." "nothing is easier," replied the honourable secretary. so saying, he traced some algebraical signs on the paper, amongst which n^2 and x^2 frequently appeared. he even seemed to extract from them a certain cubic root, and said-"the sides must be hardly two inches thick." "will that be sufficient?" asked the major doubtfully. "no," answered the president, "certainly not." "then what must be done?" resumed elphinstone, looking puzzled. "we must use another metal instead of cast-iron." "brass?" suggested morgan. "no; that is too heavy too, and i have something better than that to propose." "what?" asked the major. "aluminium," answered barbicane. "aluminium!" cried all the three colleagues of the president. "certainly, my friends. you know that an illustrious french chemist, henry st. claire deville, succeeded in 1854 in obtaining aluminium in a compact mass. this precious 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, and is very widely distributed in nature, as aluminium forms the basis of most rocks; it is three times lighter than iron, and seems to have been created expressly to furnish us with the material for our projectile!" "hurrah for aluminium!" cried the secretary, always very noisy in his moments of enthusiasm. "but, my dear president," said the major, "is not aluminium quoted exceedingly high?" "it was so," answered barbicane; "when first discovered a pound of aluminium cost 260 to 280 dollars; then it fell to twenty-seven dollars, and now it is worth nine dollars." "but nine dollars a pound," replied the major, who did not easily give in; "that is still an enormous price." "doubtless, my dear major; but not out of reach." "what will the projectile weigh, then?" asked morgan. "here is the result of my calculations," answered barbicane. "a projectile of 108 inches in diameter and 12 inches thick would weigh, if it were made of cast-iron, 67,440 lbs.; cast in aluminium it would be reduced to 19,250 lbs." "perfect!" cried maston; "that suits our programme capitally." "yes," replied the major; "but do you not know that at nine dollars a pound the projectile would cost--" "one hundred seventy-three thousand and fifty dollars. yes, i know that; but fear nothing, my friends; money for our enterprise will not be wanting, i answer for that." "it will be showered upon us," replied j.t. maston. "well, what do you say to aluminium?" asked the president. "adopted," answered the three members of the committee. "as to the form of the projectile," resumed barbicane, "it is of little consequence, since, once the atmosphere cleared, it will find itself in empty space; i therefore propose a round ball, which will turn on itself, if it so pleases." thus ended the first committee meeting. the question of the projectile was definitely resolved upon, and j.t. maston was delighted with the idea of sending an aluminium bullet to the selenites, "as it will give them no end of an idea of the inhabitants of the earth!" chapter viii. history of the cannon. the resolutions passed at this meeting produced a great effect outside. some timid people grew alarmed at the idea of a projectile weighing 20,000 lbs. hurled into space. people asked what cannon could ever transmit an initial speed sufficient for such a mass. the report of the second meeting was destined to answer these questions victoriously. the next evening the four members of the gun club sat down before fresh mountains of sandwiches and a veritable ocean of tea. the debate then began. "my dear colleagues," said barbicane, "we are going to occupy ourselves with the construction of the engine, its length, form, composition, and weight. it is probable that we shall have to give it gigantic dimensions, but, however great our difficulties might be, our industrial genius will easily overcome them. will you please listen to me and spare objections for the present? i do not fear them." an approving murmur greeted this declaration. "we must not forget," resumed barbicane, "to what point our yesterday's debate brought us; the problem is now the following: how to give an initial speed of 12,000 yards a second to a shot 108 inches in diameter weighing 20,000 lbs. "that is the problem indeed," answered major elphinstone. "when a projectile is hurled into space," resumed barbicane, "what happens? it is acted upon by three independent forces, the resistance of the medium, the attraction of the earth, and the force of impulsion with which it is animated. let us examine these three forces. the resistance of the medium--that is to say, the resistance of the air--is of little importance. in fact, the terrestrial atmosphere is only forty miles deep. with a rapidity of 12,000 yards the projectile will cross that in five seconds, and this time will be short enough to make the resistance of the medium insignificant. let us now pass to the attraction of the earth--that is to say, to the weight of the projectile. we know that that weight diminishes in an inverse ratio to the square of distances--in fact, this is what physics teach us: when a body left to itself falls on the surface of the earth, it falls 15 feet in the first second, and if the same body had to fall 257,542 miles--that is to say, the distance between the earth and the moon--its fall would be reduced to half a line in the first second. that is almost equivalent to immobility. the question is, therefore, how progressively to overcome this law of gravitation. how shall we do it? by the force of impulsion?" "that is the difficulty," answered the major. "that is it indeed," replied the president. "but we shall triumph over it, for this force of impulsion we want depends on the length of the engine and the quantity of powder employed, the one only being limited by the resistance of the other. let us occupy ourselves, therefore, to-day with the dimensions to be given to the cannon. it is quite understood that we can make it, as large as we like, seeing it will not have to be moved." "all that is evident," replied the general. "until now," said barbicane, "the longest cannon, our enormous columbiads, have not been more than twenty-five feet long; we shall therefore astonish many people by the dimensions we shall have to adopt." "certainly," exclaimed j.t. maston. "for my part, i ask for a cannon half a mile long at least!" "half a mile!" cried the major and the general. "yes, half a mile, and that will be half too short." "come, maston," answered morgan, "you exaggerate." "no, i do not," said the irate secretary; "and i really do not know why you tax me with exaggeration." "because you go too far." "you must know, sir," answered j.t. maston, looking dignified, "that an artilleryman is like a cannon-ball, he can never go too far." the debate was getting personal, but the president interfered. "be calm, my friends, and let us reason it out. we evidently want a gun of great range, as the length of the engine will increase the detention of gas accumulated behind the projectile, but it is useless to overstep certain limits." "perfectly," said the major. "what are the usual rules in such a case? ordinarily the length of a cannon is twenty or twenty-five times the diameter of the projectile, and it weighs 235 to 240 times its weight." "it is not enough," cried j.t. maston with impetuosity. "i agree to that, my worthy friend, and in fact by keeping that proportion for a projectile nine feet wide, weighing 30,000 lbs., the engine would only have a length of 225 feet and a weight of 7,200,000 lbs." "that is ridiculous," resumed j.t. maston. "you might as well take a pistol." "i think so too," answered barbicane; "that is why i propose to quadruple that length, and to construct a cannon 900 feet long." the general and the major made some objections, but, nevertheless, this proposition, strongly supported by the secretary, was definitely adopted. "now," said elphinstone, "what thickness must we give its sides?" "a thickness of six feet," answered barbicane. "you do not think of raising such a mass upon a gun-carriage?" asked the major. "that would be superb, however! said j.t. maston. "but impracticable," answered barbicane. "no, i think of casting this engine in the ground itself, binding it up with wrought-iron hoops, and then surrounding it with a thick mass of stone and cement masonry. when it is cast it must be bored with great precision so as to prevent windage, so there will be no loss of gas, and all the expansive force of the powder will be employed in the propulsion." "hurrah! hurrah!" said maston, "we have our cannon." "not yet," answered barbicane, calming his impatient friend with his hand. "why not?" "because we have not discussed its form. shall it be a cannon, howitzer, or a mortar?" "a cannon," replied morgan. "a howitzer," said the major. "a mortar," exclaimed j.t. maston. a fresh discussion was pending, each taking the part of his favourite weapon, when the president stopped it short. "my friends," said he, "i will soon make you agree. our columbiad will be a mixture of all three. it will be a cannon, because the powder-magazine will have the same diameter as the chamber. it will be a howitzer, because it will hurl an obus. lastly, it will be a mortar, because it will be pointed at an angle of 90°, and that without any chance of recoil; unalterably fixed to the ground, it will communicate to the projectile all the power of impulsion accumulated in its body." "adopted, adopted," answered the members of the committee. "one question," said elphinstone, "and will this _canobusomortar_ be rifled?" "no," answered barbicane. "no, we must have an enormous initial speed, and you know very well that a shot leaves a rifle less rapidly than a smooth-bore." "true," answered the major. "well, we have it this time," repeated j.t. maston. "not quite yet," replied the president. "why not?" "because we do not yet know of what metal it will be made." "let us decide that without delay." "i was going to propose it to you." the four members of the committee each swallowed a dozen sandwiches, followed by a cup of tea, and the debate recommenced. "our cannon," said barbicane, "must be possessed of great tenacity, great hardness; it must be infusible by heat, indissoluble, and inoxydable by the corrosive action of acids." "there is no doubt about that," answered the major, "and as we shall have to employ a considerable quantity of metal we shall not have much choice." "well, then," said morgan, "i propose for the fabrication of the columbiad the best alloy hitherto known--that is to say, 100 parts of copper, 12 of tin, and 6 of brass." "my friends," answered the president, "i agree that this composition has given excellent results; but in bulk it would be too dear and very hard to work. i therefore think we must adopt an excellent material, but cheap, such as cast-iron. is not that your opinion, major?" "quite," answered elphinstone. "in fact," resumed barbicane, "cast-iron costs ten times less than bronze; it is easily melted, it is readily run into sand moulds, and is rapidly manipulated; it is, therefore, an economy of money and time. besides, that material is excellent, and i remember that during the war at the siege of atlanta cast-iron cannon fired a thousand shots each every twenty minutes without being damaged by it." "yet cast-iron is very brittle," answered morgan. "yes, but it possesses resistance too. besides, we shall not let it explode, i can answer for that." "it is possible to explode and yet be honest," replied j.t. maston sententiously. "evidently," answered barbicane. "i am, therefore, going to beg our worthy secretary to calculate the weight of a cast-iron cannon 900 feet long, with an inner diameter of nine feet, and sides six feet thick." "at once," answered j.t. maston, and, as he had done the day before, he made his calculations with marvellous facility, and said at the end of a minute-"this cannon will weigh 68,040 tons." "and how much will that cost at two cents a pound?" "two million five hundred and ten thousand seven hundred and one dollars." j.t. maston, the major, and the general looked at barbicane anxiously. "well, gentlemen," said the president, "i can only repeat what i said to you yesterday, don't be uneasy; we shall not want for money." upon this assurance of its president the committee broke up, after having fixed a third meeting for the next evening. chapter ix. the question of powders. the question of powder still remained to be settled. the public awaited this last decision with anxiety. the size of the projectile and length of the cannon being given, what would be the quantity of powder necessary to produce the impulsion? this terrible agent, of which, however, man has made himself master, was destined to play a part in unusual proportions. it is generally known and often asserted that gunpowder was invented in the fourteenth century by the monk schwartz, who paid for his great discovery with his life. but it is nearly proved now that this story must be ranked among the legends of the middle ages. gunpowder was invented by no one; it is a direct product of greek fire, composed, like it, of sulphur and saltpetre; only since that epoch these mixtures; which were only dissolving, have been transformed into detonating mixtures. but if learned men know perfectly the false history of gunpowder, few people are aware of its mechanical power. now this is necessary to be known in order to understand the importance of the question submitted to the committee. thus a litre of gunpowder weighs about 2 lbs.; it produces, by burning, about 400 litres of gas; this gas, liberated, and under the action of a temperature of 2,400°, occupies the space of 4,000 litres. therefore the volume of powder is to the volume of gas produced by its deflagration as 1 to 400. the frightful force of this gas, when it is compressed into a space 4,000 times too small, may be imagined. this is what the members of the committee knew perfectly when, the next day, they began their sitting. major elphinstone opened the debate. "my dear comrades," said the distinguished chemist, "i am going to begin with some unexceptionable figures, which will serve as a basis for our calculation. the 24-lb. cannon-ball, of which the hon. j.t. maston spoke the day before yesterday, is driven out of the cannon by 16 lbs. of powder only." "you are certain of your figures?" asked barbicane. "absolutely certain," answered the major. "the armstrong cannon only uses 75 lbs. of powder for a projectile of 800 lbs., and the rodman columbiad only expends 160 lbs. of powder to send its half-ton bullet six miles. these facts cannot be doubted, for i found them myself in the reports of the committee of artillery." "that is certain," answered the general. "well," resumed the major, "the conclusion to be drawn from these figures is that the quantity of powder does not augment with the weight of the shot; in fact, if a shot of 24 lbs. took 16 lbs. of powder, and, in other terms, if in ordinary cannons a quantity of powder weighing two-thirds of the weight of the projectile is used, this proportion is not always necessary. calculate, and you will see that for the shot of half a ton weight, instead of 333 lbs. of powder, this quantity has been reduced to 116 lbs. only. "what are you driving at?" asked the president. "the extreme of your theory, my dear major," said j.t. maston, "would bring you to having no powder at all, provided your shot were sufficiently heavy." "friend maston will have his joke even in the most serious things," replied the major; "but he need not be uneasy; i shall soon propose a quantity of powder that will satisfy him. only i wish to have it understood that during the war, and for the largest guns, the weight of the powder was reduced, after experience, to a tenth of the weight of the shot." "nothing is more exact," said morgan; "but, before deciding the quantity of powder necessary to give the impulsion, i think it would be well to agree upon its nature." "we shall use a large-grained powder," answered the major; "its deflagration is the most rapid." "no doubt," replied morgan; "but it is very brittle, and ends by damaging the chamber of the gun." "certainly; but what would be bad for a gun destined for long service would not be so for our columbiad. we run no danger of explosion, and the powder must immediately take fire to make its mechanical effect complete." "we might make several touchholes," said j.t. maston, "so as to set fire to it in several places at the same time." "no doubt," answered elphinstone, "but that would make the working of it more difficult. i therefore come back to my large-grained powder that removes these difficulties." "so be it," answered the general. "to load his columbiad," resumed the major, "rodman used a powder in grains as large as chestnuts, made of willow charcoal, simply rarefied in cast-iron pans. this powder was hard and shining, left no stain on the hands, contained a great proportion of hydrogen and oxygen, deflagrated instantaneously, and, though very brittle, did not much damage the mouthpiece." "well, it seems to me," answered j.t. maston, "that we have nothing to hesitate about, and that our choice is made." "unless you prefer gold-powder," replied the major, laughing, which provoked a threatening gesture from the steel hook of his susceptible friend. until then barbicane had kept himself aloof from the discussion; he listened, and had evidently an idea. he contented himself with saying simply-"now, my friends, what quantity of powder do you propose?" the three members of the gun club looked at one another for the space of a minute. "two hundred thousand pounds," said morgan at last. "five hundred thousand," replied the major. "eight hundred thousand," exclaimed j.t. maston. this, time elphinstone dared not tax his colleague with exaggeration. in fact, the question was that of sending to the moon a projectile weighing 20,000 lbs., and of giving it an initial force of 2000 yards a second. a moment of silence, therefore, followed the triple proposition made by the three colleagues. it was at last broken by president barbicane. "my brave comrades," said he in a quiet tone, "i start from this principle, that the resistance of our cannon, in the given conditions, is unlimited. i shall, therefore, surprise the honourable j.t. maston when i tell him that he has been timid in his calculations, and i propose to double his 800,000 lbs. of powder." "sixteen hundred thousand pounds!" shouted j.t. maston, jumping out of his chair. "quite as much as that." "then we shall have to come back to my cannon half a mile long." "it is evident," said the major. "sixteen hundred thousand pounds of powder," resumed the secretary of committee, "will occupy about a space of 22,000 cubic feet; now, as your cannon will only hold about 54,000 cubic feet, it will be half full, and the chamber will not be long enough to allow the explosion of the gas to give sufficient impulsion to your projectile." there was nothing to answer. j.t. maston spoke the truth. they all looked at barbicane. "however," resumed the president, "i hold to that quantity of powder. think! 1,600,000 pounds of powder will give 6,000,000,000 litres of gas." "then how is it to be done?" asked the general. "it is very simple. we must reduce this enormous quantity of powder, keeping at the same time its mechanical power." "good! by what means?" "i will tell you," answered barbicane simply. his interlocutors all looked at him. "nothing is easier, in fact," he resumed, "than to bring that mass of powder to a volume four times less. you all know that curious cellular matter which constitutes the elementary tissues of vegetables?" "ah!" said the major, "i understand you, barbicane." "this matter," said the president, "is obtained in perfect purity in different things, especially in cotton, which is nothing but the skin of the seeds of the cotton plant. now cotton, combined with cold nitric acid, is transformed into a substance eminently insoluble, eminently combustible, eminently explosive. some years ago, in 1832, a french chemist, braconnot, discovered this substance, which he called xyloidine. in 1838, another frenchman, pelouze, studied its different properties; and lastly, in 1846, schonbein, professor of chemistry at basle, proposed it as gunpowder. this powder is nitric cotton." "or pyroxyle," answered elphinstone. "or fulminating cotton," replied morgan. "is there not an american name to put at the bottom of this discovery?" exclaimed j.t. maston, animated by a lively sentiment of patriotism. "not one, unfortunately," replied the major. "nevertheless, to satisfy maston," resumed the president, "i may tell him that one of our fellow-citizens may be annexed to the study of the celluosity, for collodion, which is one of the principal agents in photography, is simply pyroxyle dissolved in ether to which alcohol has been added, and it was discovered by maynard, then a medical student." "hurrah for maynard and fulminating cotton!" cried the noisy secretary of the gun club. "i return to pyroxyle," resumed barbicane. "you are acquainted with its properties which make it so precious to us. it is prepared with the greatest facility; cotton plunged in smoking nitric acid for fifteen minutes, then washed in water, then dried, and that is all." "nothing is more simple, certainty," said morgan. "what is more, pyroxyle is not damaged by moisture, a precious quality in our eyes, as it will take several days to load the cannon. its inflammability takes place at 170° instead of at 240° and its deflagration is so immediate that it may be fired on ordinary gunpowder before the latter has time to catch fire too." "perfect," answered the major. "only it will cost more." "what does that matter?" said j.t. maston. "lastly, it communicates to projectiles a speed four times greater than that of gunpowder. i may even add that if 8/10ths of its weight of nitrate of potash is added its expansive force is still greatly augmented." "will that be necessary?" asked the major. "i do not think so," answered barbicane. "thus instead of 1,600,000 lbs. of powder, we shall only have 400,000 lbs. of fulminating cotton, and as we can, without danger, compress 500 lbs. of cotton into 27 cubic feet, that quantity will not take up more than 180 feet in the chamber of the columbiad. by these means the projectile will have more than 700 feet of chamber to traverse under a force of 6,000,000,000 of litres of gas before taking its flight over the queen of night." here j.t. maston could not contain his emotion. he threw himself into the arms of his friend with the violence of a projectile, and he would have been stove in had he not have been bombproof. this incident ended the first sitting of the committee. barbicane and his enterprising colleagues, to whom nothing seemed impossible, had just solved the complex question of the projectile, cannon, and powder. their plan being made, there was nothing left but to put it into execution. chapter x. one enemy against twenty-five millions of friends. the american public took great interest in the least details of the gun club's enterprise. it followed the committee debates day by day. the most simple preparations for this great experiment, the questions of figures it provoked, the mechanical difficulties to be solved, all excited popular opinion to the highest pitch. more than a year would elapse between the commencement of the work and its completion; but the interval would not be void of excitement. the place to be chosen for the boring, the casting the metal of the columbiad, its perilous loading, all this was more than necessary to excite public curiosity. the projectile, once fired, would be out of sight in a few seconds; then what would become of it, how it would behave in space, how it would reach the moon, none but a few privileged persons would see with their own eyes. thus, then, the preparations for the experiment and the precise details of its execution constituted the real source of interest. in the meantime the purely scientific attraction of the enterprise was all at once heightened by an incident. it is known what numerous legions of admirers and friends the barbicane project had called round its author. but, notwithstanding the number and importance of the majority, it was not destined to be unanimous. one man, one out of all the united states, protested against the gun club. he attacked it violently on every occasion, and--for human nature is thus constituted--barbicane was more sensitive to this one man's opposition than to the applause of all the others. nevertheless he well knew the motive of this antipathy, from whence came this solitary enmity, why it was personal and of ancient date; lastly, in what rivalry it had taken root. the president of the gun club had never seen this persevering enemy. happily, for the meeting of the two men would certainly have had disastrous consequences. this rival was a _savant_ like barbicane, a proud, enterprising, determined, and violent character, a pure yankee. his name was captain nicholl. he lived in philadelphia. no one is ignorant of the curious struggle which went on during the federal war between the projectile and ironclad vessels, the former destined to pierce the latter, the latter determined not to be pierced. thence came a radical transformation in the navies of the two continents. cannon-balls and iron plates struggled for supremacy, the former getting larger as the latter got thicker. ships armed with formidable guns went into the fire under shelter of their invulnerable armour. the merrimac, monitor, ram tennessee, and wechhausen shot enormous projectiles after having made themselves proof against the projectiles of other ships. they did to others what they would not have others do to them, an immoral principle upon which the whole art of war is based. now barbicane was a great caster of projectiles, and nicholl was an equally great forger of plate-armour. the one cast night and day at baltimore, the other forged day and night at philadelphia. each followed an essentially different current of ideas. as soon as barbicane had invented a new projectile, nicholl invented a new plate armour. the president of the gun club passed his life in piercing holes, the captain in preventing him doing it. hence a constant rivalry which even touched their persons. nicholl appeared in barbicane's dreams as an impenetrable ironclad against which he split, and barbicane in nicholl's dreams appeared like a projectile which ripped him up. still, although they ran along two diverging lines, these _savants_ would have ended by meeting each other in spite of all the axioms in geometry; but then it would have been on a duel field. happily for these worthy citizens, so useful to their country, a distance of from fifty to sixty miles separated them, and their friends put such obstacles in the way that they never met. at present it was not clearly known which of the two inventors held the palm. the results obtained rendered a just decision difficult. it seemed, however, that in the end armour-plate would have to give way to projectiles. nevertheless, competent men had their doubts. at the latest experiments the cylindro-conical shots of barbicane had no more effect than pins upon nicholl's armour-plate. that day the forger of philadelphia believed himself victorious, and henceforth had nothing but disdain for his rival. but when, later on, barbicane substituted simple howitzers of 600 lbs. for conical shots, the captain was obliged to go down in his own estimation. it fact, these projectiles, though of mediocre velocity, drilled with holes and broke to pieces armour-plate of the best metal. things had reached this point and victory seemed to rest with the projectile, when the war ended the very day that nicholl terminated a new forged armour-plate. it was a masterpiece of its kind. it defied all the projectiles in the world. the captain had it taken to the washington polygon and challenged the president of the gun club to pierce it. barbicane, peace having been made, would not attempt the experiment. then nicholl, in a rage, offered to expose his armour-plate to the shock of any kind of projectile, solid, hollow, round, or conical. the president, who was determined not to compromise his last success, refused. nicholl, excited by this unqualified obstinacy, tried to tempt barbicane by leaving him every advantage. he proposed to put his plate 200 yards from the gun. barbicane still refused. at 100 yards? not even at 75. "at 50, then," cried the captain, through the newspapers, "at 25 yards from my plate, and i will be behind it." barbicane answered that even if captain nicholl would be in front of it he would not fire any more. on this reply, nicholl could no longer contain himself. he had recourse to personalities; he insinuated cowardice--that the man who refuses to fire a shot from a cannon is very nearly being afraid of it; that, in short, the artillerymen who fight now at six miles distance have prudently substituted mathematical formulae for individual courage, and that there is as much bravery required to quietly wait for a cannon-ball behind armour-plate as to send it according to all the rules of science. to these insinuations barbicane answered nothing. perhaps he never knew about them, for the calculations of his great enterprise absorbed him entirely. when he made his famous communication to the gun club, the anger of captain nicholl reached its maximum. mixed with it was supreme jealousy and a sentiment of absolute powerlessness. how could he invent anything better than a columbiad 900 feet long? what armour-plate could ever resist a projectile of 30,000 lbs.? nicholl was at first crushed by this cannon-ball, then he recovered and resolved to crush the proposition by the weight of his best arguments. he therefore violently attacked the labours of the gun club. he sent a number of letters to the newspapers, which they did not refuse to publish. he tried to demolish barbicane's work scientifically. once the war begun, he called reasons of every kind to his aid, reasons it must be acknowledged often specious and of bad metal. firstly, barbicane was violently attacked about his figures. nicholl tried to prove by a + b the falseness of his formulae, and he accused him of being ignorant of the rudimentary principles of ballistics. amongst other errors, and according to nicholl's own calculations, it was impossible to give any body a velocity of 12,000 yards a second. he sustained, algebra in hand, that even with that velocity a projectile thus heavy would never pass the limits of the terrestrial atmosphere. it would not even go eight leagues! better still. granted the velocity, and taking it as sufficient, the shot would not resist the pressure of the gas developed by the combustion of 1,600,000 pounds of powder, and even if it did resist that pressure, it at least would not support such a temperature; it would melt as it issued from the columbiad, and would fall in red-hot rain on the heads of the imprudent spectators. barbicane paid no attention to these attacks, and went on with his work. then nicholl considered the question in its other aspects. without speaking of its uselessness from all other points of view, he looked upon the experiment as exceedingly dangerous, both for the citizens who authorised so condemnable a spectacle by their presence, and for the towns near the deplorable cannon. he also remarked that if the projectile did not reach its destination, a result absolutely impossible, it was evident that it would fall on to the earth again, and that the fall of such a mass multiplied by the square of its velocity would singularly damage some point on the globe. therefore, in such a circumstance, and without any restriction being put upon the rights of free citizens, it was one of those cases in which the intervention of government became necessary, and the safety of all must not be endangered for the good pleasure of a single individual. it will be seen to what exaggeration captain nicholl allowed himself to be carried. he was alone in his opinion. nobody took any notice of his cassandra prophecies. they let him exclaim as much as he liked, till his throat was sore if he pleased. he had constituted himself the defender of a cause lost in advance. he was heard but not listened to, and he did not carry off a single admirer from the president of the gun club, who did not even take the trouble to refute his rival's arguments. nicholl, driven into his last intrenchments, and not being able to fight for his opinion, resolved to pay for it. he therefore proposed in the _richmond inquirer_ a series of bets conceived in these terms and in an increasing proportion. he bet that-1. the funds necessary for the gun club's enterprise would not be forthcoming, 1,000 dols. 2. that the casting of a cannon of 900 feet was impracticable and would not succeed, 2,000 dols. 3. that it would be impossible to load the columbiad, and that the pyroxyle would ignite spontaneously under the weight of the projectile, 3,000 dols. 4. that the columbiad would burst at the first discharge, 4,000 dols. 5. that the projectile would not even go six miles, and would fall a few seconds after its discharge, 5,000 dols. it will be seen that the captain was risking an important sum in his invincible obstinacy. no less than 15,000 dols. were at stake. notwithstanding the importance of the wager, he received on the 19th of october a sealed packet of superb laconism, couched in these terms:-"baltimore, october 18th. "done. "barbicane." chapter xi. florida and texas. there still remained one question to be decided--a place favourable to the experiment had to be chosen. according to the recommendation of the cambridge observatory the gun must be aimed perpendicularly to the plane of the horizon--that is to say, towards the zenith. now the moon only appears in the zenith in the places situated between 0° and 28° of latitude, or, in other terms, when her declination is only 28°. the question was, therefore, to determine the exact point of the globe where the immense columbiad should be cast. on the 20th of october the gun club held a general meeting. barbicane brought a magnificent map of the united states by z. belltropp. but before he had time to unfold it j.t. maston rose with his habitual vehemence, and began to speak as follows:-"honourable colleagues, the question we are to settle to-day is really of national importance, and will furnish us with an occasion for doing a great act of patriotism." the members of the gun club looked at each other without understanding what the orator was coming to. "not one of you," he continued, "would think of doing anything to lessen the glory of his country, and if there is one right that the union may claim it is that of harbouring in its bosom the formidable cannon of the gun club. now, under the present circumstances--" "will you allow me--" said barbicane. "i demand the free discussion of ideas," replied the impetuous j.t. maston, "and i maintain that the territory from which our glorious projectile will rise ought to belong to the union." "certainly," answered several members. "well, then, as our frontiers do not stretch far enough, as on the south the ocean is our limit, as we must seek beyond the united states and in a neighbouring country this 28th parallel, this is all a legitimate _casus belli_, and i demand that war should be declared against mexico!" "no, no!" was cried from all parts. "no!" replied j.t. maston. "i am much astonished at hearing such a word in these precincts!" "but listen--" "never! never!" cried the fiery orator. "sooner or later this war will be declared, and i demand that it should be this very day." "maston," said barbicane, making his bell go off with a crash, "i agree with you that the experiment cannot and ought not to be made anywhere but on the soil of the union, but if i had been allowed to speak before, and you had glanced at this map, you would know that it is perfectly useless to declare war against our neighbours, for certain frontiers of the united states extend beyond the 28th parallel. look, we have at our disposition all the southern part of texas and florida." this incident had no consequences; still it was not without regret that j.t. maston allowed himself to be convinced. it was, therefore, decided that the columbiad should be cast either on the soil of texas or on that of florida. but this decision was destined to create an unexampled rivalry between the towns of these two states. the 28th parallel, when it touches the american coast, crosses the peninsula of florida, and divides it into two nearly equal portions. then, plunging into the gulf of mexico, it subtends the arc formed by the coasts of alabama, mississippi, and louisiana; then skirting texas, off which it cuts an angle, it continues its direction over mexico, crosses the sonora and old california, and loses itself in the pacific ocean; therefore only the portions of texas and florida situated below this parallel fulfilled the requisite conditions of latitude recommended by the observatory of cambridge. the southern portion of florida contains no important cities. it only bristles with forts raised against wandering indians. one town only, tampa town, could put in a claim in favour of its position. in texas, on the contrary, towns are more numerous and more important. corpus christi in the county of nuaces, and all the cities situated on the rio bravo, laredo, comalites, san ignacio in web, rio grande city in starr, edinburgh in hidalgo, santa-rita, el panda, and brownsville in cameron, formed a powerful league against the pretensions of florida. the decision, therefore, was hardly made public before the floridan and texican deputies flocked to baltimore by the shortest way. from that moment president barbicane and the influential members of the gun club were besieged day and night by formidable claims. if seven towns of greece contended for the honour of being homer's birthplace, two entire states threatened to fight over a cannon. these rival parties were then seen marching with weapons about the streets of the town. every time they met a fight was imminent, which would have had disastrous consequences. happily the prudence and skill of president barbicane warded off this danger. personal demonstrations found an outlet in the newspapers of the different states. it was thus that the _new york herald_ and the _tribune_ supported the claims of texas, whilst the _times_ and the _american review_ took the part of the floridan deputies. the members of the gun club did not know which to listen to. texas came up proudly with its twenty-six counties, which it seemed to put in array; but florida answered that twelve counties proved more than twenty-six in a country six times smaller. texas bragged of its 33,000 inhabitants; but florida, much smaller, boasted of being much more densely populated with 56,000. besides, florida accused texas of being the home of paludian fevers, which carried off, one year with another, several thousands of inhabitants, and florida was not far wrong. in its turn texas replied that florida need not envy its fevers, and that it was, at least, imprudent to call other countries unhealthy when florida itself had chronic "vomito negro," and texas was not far wrong. "besides," added the texicans through the _new york herald_, "there are rights due to a state that grows the best cotton in all america, a state which produces holm oak for building ships, a state that contains superb coal and mines of iron that yield fifty per cent. of pure ore." to that the _american review_ answered that the soil of florida, though not so rich, offered better conditions for the casting of the columbiad, as it was composed of sand and clay-ground. "but," answered the texicans, "before anything can be cast in a place, it must get to that place; now communication with florida is difficult, whilst the coast of texas offers galveston bay, which is fourteen leagues round, and could contain all the fleets in the world." "why," replied the newspapers devoted to florida, "your galveston bay is situated above the 29th parallel, whilst our bay of espiritu-santo opens precisely at the 28th degree of latitude, and by it ships go direct to tampa town." "a nice bay truly!" answered texas; "it is half-choked up with sand." "any one would think, to hear you talk," cried florida, "that i was a savage country." "well, the seminoles do still wander over your prairies!" "and what about your apaches and your comanches--are they civilised?" the war had been thus kept up for some days when florida tried to draw her adversary upon another ground, and one morning the _times_ insinuated that the enterprise being "essentially american," it ought only to be attempted upon an "essentially american" territory. at these words texas could not contain itself. "american!" it cried, "are we not as american as you? were not texas and florida both incorporated in the union in 1845?" "certainly," answered the _times_, "but we have belonged to america since 1820." "yes," replied the _tribune_, "after having been spanish or english for 200 years, you were sold to the united states for 5,000,000 of dollars!" "what does that matter?" answered florida. "need we blush for that? was not louisiana bought in 1803 from napoleon for 16,000,000 of dollars?" "it is shameful!" then cried the texican deputies. "a miserable slice of land like florida to dare to compare itself with texas, which, instead of being sold, made itself independent, which drove out the mexicans on the 2nd of march, 1836, which declared itself federative republican after the victory gained by samuel houston on the banks of the san jacinto over the troops of santa-anna--a country, in short, which voluntarily joined itself to the united states of america!" "because it was afraid of the mexicans!" answered florida. "afraid!" from the day this word, really too cutting, was pronounced, the situation became intolerable. an engagement was expected between the two parties in the streets of baltimore. the deputies were obliged to be watched. president barbicane was half driven wild. notes, documents, and letters full of threats inundated his house. which course ought he to decide upon? in the point of view of fitness of soil, facility of communications, and rapidity of transport, the rights of the two states were really equal. as to the political personalities, they had nothing to do with the question. now this hesitation and embarrassment had already lasted some time when barbicane resolved to put an end to it; he called his colleagues together, and the solution he proposed to them was a profoundly wise one, as will be seen from the following:-"after due consideration," said he, "of all that has just occurred between florida and texas, it is evident that the same difficulties will again crop up between the towns of the favoured state. the rivalry will be changed from state to city, and that is all. now texas contains eleven towns with the requisite conditions that will dispute the honour of the enterprise, and that will create fresh troubles for us, whilst florida has but one; therefore i decide for tampa town!" the texican deputies were thunderstruck at this decision. it put them into a terrible rage, and they sent nominal provocations to different members of the gun club. there was only one course for the magistrates of baltimore to take, and they took it. they had the steam of a special train got up, packed the texicans into it, whether they would or no, and sent them away from the town at a speed of thirty miles an hour. but they were not carried off too quickly to hurl a last and threatening sarcasm at their adversaries. making allusion to the width of florida, a simple peninsula between two seas, they pretended it would not resist the shock, and would be blown up the first time the cannon was fired. "very well! let it be blown up!" answered the floridans with a laconism worthy of ancient times. chapter xii. "urbi et orbi." the astronomical, mechanical, and topographical difficulties once removed, there remained the question of money. an enormous sum was necessary for the execution of the project. no private individual, no single state even, could have disposed of the necessary millions. president barbicane had resolved--although the enterprise was american--to make it a business of universal interest, and to ask every nation for its financial co-operation. it was the bounded right and duty of all the earth to interfere in the business of the satellite. the subscription opened at baltimore, for this end extended thence to all the world--_urbi et orbi_. this subscription was destined to succeed beyond all hope; yet the money was to be given, not lent. the operation was purely disinterested, in the literal meaning of the word, and offered no chance of gain. but the effect of barbicane's communication had not stopped at the frontiers of the united states; it had crossed the atlantic and pacific, had invaded both asia and europe, both africa and oceania. the observatories of the union were immediately put into communication with the observatories of foreign countries; some--those of paris, st. petersburg, the cape, berlin, altona, stockholm, warsaw, hamburg, buda, bologna, malta, lisbon, benares, madras, and pekin--sent their compliments to the gun club; the others prudently awaited the result. as to the greenwich observatory, seconded by the twenty-two astronomical establishments of great britain, it made short work of it; it boldly denied the possibility of success, and took up captain nicholl's theories. whilst the different scientific societies promised to send deputies to tampa town, the greenwich staff met and contemptuously dismissed the barbicane proposition. this was pure english jealousy and nothing else. generally speaking, the effect upon the world of science was excellent, and from thence it passed to the masses, who, in general, were greatly interested in the question, a fact of great importance, seeing those masses were to be called upon to subscribe a considerable capital. on the 8th of october president barbicane issued a manifesto, full of enthusiasm, in which he made appeal to "all persons on the face of the earth willing to help." this document, translated into every language, had great success. subscriptions were opened in the principal towns of the union with a central office at the baltimore bank, 9, baltimore street; then subscriptions were opened in the different countries of the two continents:--at vienna, by s.m. de rothschild; st. petersburg, stieglitz and co.; paris, crédit mobilier; stockholm, tottie and arfuredson; london, n.m. de rothschild and son; turin, ardouin and co.; berlin, mendelssohn; geneva, lombard, odier, and co.; constantinople, ottoman bank; brussels, j. lambert; madrid, daniel weisweller; amsterdam, netherlands credit co.; rome, torlonia and co.; lisbon, lecesne; copenhagen, private bank; buenos ayres, mana bank; rio janeiro, mana bank; monte video, mana bank; valparaiso, thomas la chambre and co.; lima, thomas la chambre and co.; mexico, martin daran and co. three days after president barbicane's manifesto 400,000 dollars were received in the different towns of the union. with such a sum in hand the gun club could begin at once. but a few days later telegrams informed america that foreign subscriptions were pouring in rapidly. certain countries were distinguished by their generosity; others let go their money less easily. it was a matter of temperament. however, figures are more eloquent than words, and the following is an official statement of the sums paid to the credit of the gun club when the subscription was closed:-the contingent of russia was the enormous sum of 368,733 roubles. this need astonish no one who remembers the scientific taste of the russians and the impetus which they have given to astronomical studies, thanks to their numerous observatories, the principal of which cost 2,000,000 roubles. france began by laughing at the pretensions of the americans. the moon served as an excuse for a thousand stale puns and a score of vaudevilles in which bad taste contested the palm with ignorance. but, as the french formerly paid after singing, they now paid after laughing, and subscribed a sum of 1,258,930 francs. at that price they bought the right to joke a little. austria, in the midst of her financial difficulties, was sufficiently generous. her part in the public subscription amounted to 216,000 florins, which were welcome. sweden and norway contributed 52,000 rix-dollars. the figure was small considering the country; but it would certainly have been higher if a subscription had been opened at christiania as well as at stockholm. for some reason or other the norwegians do not like to send their money to norway. prussia, by sending 250,000 thalers, testified her approbation of the enterprise. her different observatories contributed an important sum, and were amongst the most ardent in encouraging president barbicane. turkey behaved generously, but she was personally interested in the business; the moon, in fact, rules the course of her years and her ramadan fast. she could do no less than give 1,372,640 piastres, and she gave them with an ardour that betrayed, however, a certain pressure from the government of the porte. belgium distinguished herself amongst all the second order of states by a gift of 513,000 francs, about one penny and a fraction for each inhabitant. holland and her colonies contributed 110,000 florins, only demanding a discount of five per cent., as she paid ready money. denmark, rather confined for room, gave, notwithstanding, 9,000 ducats, proving her love for scientific experiments. the germanic confederation subscribed 34,285 florins; more could not be asked from her; besides, she would not have given more. although in embarrassed circumstances, italy found 2,000,000 francs in her children's pockets, but by turning them well inside out. if she had then possessed venetia she would have given more, but she did not yet possess venetia. the pontifical states thought they could not send less than 7,040 roman crowns, and portugal pushed her devotion to the extent of 3,000 cruzades. mexico gent the widow's mite, 86 piastres; but empires in course of formation are always in rather embarrassed circumstances. switzerland sent the modest sum of 257 francs to the american scheme. it must be frankly stated that switzerland only looked upon the practical side of the operation; the action of sending a bullet to the moon did not seem of a nature sufficient for the establishing of any communication with the queen of night, so switzerland thought it imprudent to engage capital in an enterprise depending upon such uncertain events. after all, switzerland was, perhaps, right. as to spain, she found it impossible to get together more than 110 reals. she gave as an excuse that she had her railways to finish. the truth is that science is not looked upon very favourably in that country; it is still a little behindhand. and then certain spaniards, and not the most ignorant either, had no clear conception of the size of the projectile compared with that of the moon; they feared it might disturb the satellite from her orbit, and make her fall on to the surface of the terrestrial globe. in that case it was better to have nothing to do with it, which they carried out, with that small exception. england alone remained. the contemptuous antipathy with which she received barbicane's proposition is known. the english have but a single mind in their 25,000,000 of bodies which great britain contains. they gave it to be understood 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 news the gun club contented itself with shrugging 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 into their hands their quota of 300,000 dollars, it found itself possessed of a considerable capital of which the following is a statement:-united states subscription, 4,000,000 dollars; foreign subscriptions, 1,446,675 dollars; total, 5,446,675 dollars. this was the large sum poured by the public into the coffers of the gun club. no one need be surprised at its importance. the work of casting, boring, masonry, transport of workmen, and their installation in an almost uninhabited country, the construction of furnaces and workshops, the manufacturing tools, powder, projectile and incidental expenses would, according to the estimates, absorb nearly the whole. some of the cannon-shots fired during the war cost 1,000 dollars each; that of president barbicane, unique in the annals of artillery, might well cost 5,000 times more. on the 20th of october a contract was made with the goldspring manufactory, new york, which during the war had furnished parrott with his best cast-iron guns. it was stipulated between the contracting parties that the goldspring manufactory should pledge itself to send to tampa town, in south florida, the necessary materials for the casting of the columbiad. this operation was to be terminated, at the latest, on the 15th of the next october, and the cannon delivered in good condition, under penalty of 100 dollars a day forfeit until the moon should again present herself under the same conditions--that is to say, during eighteen years and eleven days. the engagement of the workmen, their pay, and the necessary transports all to be made by the goldspring company. this contract, made in duplicate, was signed by i. barbicane, president of the gun club, and j. murphison, manager of the goldspring manufactory, who thus signed on the part of the contracting parties. chapter xiii. stony hill. since the choice made by the members of the gun club to the detriment of texas, every one in america--where every one knows how to read--made it his business to study the geography of florida. never before had the booksellers sold so many _bertram's travels in florida_, _roman's natural history of east and west florida_, _williams' territory of florida_, and _cleland on the culture of the sugar cane in east florida_. new editions of these works were required. there was quite a rage for them. barbicane had something better to do than to read; he wished to see with his own eyes and choose the site of the columbiad. therefore, without losing a moment, he put the funds necessary for the construction of a telescope at the disposition of the cambridge observatory, and made a contract with the firm of breadwill and co., of albany, for the making of the aluminium projectile; then he left baltimore accompanied by j.t. maston, major elphinstone, and the manager of the goldspring manufactory. the next day the four travelling companions reached new orleans. there they embarked on board the _tampico_, a despatch-boat belonging to the federal navy, which the government had placed at their disposal, and, with all steam on, they quickly lost sight of the shores of louisiana. the passage was not a long one; two days after its departure the _tampico_, having made four hundred and eighty miles, sighted the floridian coast. as it approached, barbicane saw a low, flat coast, looking rather unfertile. after coasting a series of creeks rich in oysters and lobsters, the _tampico_ entered the bay of espiritu-santo. this bay is divided into two long roadsteads, those of tampa and hillisboro, the narrow entrance to which the steamer soon cleared. a short time afterwards the batteries of fort brooke rose above the waves and the town of tampa appeared, carelessly lying on a little natural harbour formed by the mouth of the river hillisboro. there the _tampico_ anchored on october 22nd, at seven p.m.; the four passengers landed immediately. barbicane felt his heart beat violently as he set foot on floridian soil; he seemed to feel it with his feet like an architect trying the solidity of a house. j.t. maston scratched the ground with his steel hook. "gentlemen," then said barbicane, "we have no time to lose, and we will set off on horseback to-morrow to survey the country." the minute barbicane landed the three thousand inhabitants of tampa town went out to meet him, an honour quite due to the president of the gun club, who had decided in their favour. they received him with formidable exclamations, but barbicane escaped an ovation by shutting himself up in his room at the franklin hotel and refusing to see any one. the next day, october 23rd, small horses of spanish race, full of fire and vigour, pawed the ground under his windows. but, instead of four, there were fifty, with their riders. barbicane went down accompanied by his three companions, who were at first astonished to find themselves in the midst of such a cavalcade. he remarked besides that each horseman carried a carbine slung across his shoulders and pistols in his holsters. the reason for such a display of force was immediately given him by a young floridian, who said to him-"sir, the seminoles are there." "what seminoles?" "savages who frequent the prairies, and we deemed it prudent to give you an escort." "pooh!" exclaimed j.t. maston as he mounted his steed. "it is well to be on the safe side," answered the floridian. "gentlemen," replied barbicane, "i thank you for your attention, and now let us be off." the little troop set out immediately, and disappeared in a cloud of dust. it was five a.m.; the sun shone brilliantly already, and the thermometer indicated 84°, but fresh sea breezes moderated this excessive heat. barbicane, on leaving tampa town, went down south and followed the coast to alifia creek. this small river falls into hillisboro bay, twelve miles below tampa town. barbicane and his escort followed its right bank going up towards the east. the waves of the bay disappeared behind an inequality in the ground, and the floridian country was alone in sight. florida is divided into two parts; the one to the north, more populous and less abandoned, has tallahassee for capital, and pensacola, one of the principal marine arsenals of the united states; the other, lying between the atlantic and the gulf of mexico, is only a narrow peninsula, eaten away by the current of the gulf stream--a little tongue of land lost amidst a small archipelago, which the numerous vessels of the bahama channel double continually. it is the advanced sentinel of the gulf of great tempests. the superficial area of this state measures 38,033,267 acres, amongst which one had to be chosen situated beyond the 28th parallel and suitable for the enterprise. as barbicane rode along he attentively examined the configuration of the ground and its particular distribution. florida, discovered by juan ponce de leon in 1512, on palm sunday, was first of all named _pascha florida_. it was well worthy of that designation with its dry and arid coasts. but a few miles from the shore the nature of the ground gradually changed, and the country showed itself worthy of its name; the soil was cut up by a network of creeks, rivers, watercourses, ponds, and small lakes; it might have been mistaken for holland or guiana; but the ground gradually rose and soon showed its cultivated plains, where all the vegetables of the north and south grow in perfection, its immense fields, where a tropical sun and the water conserved in its clayey texture do all the work of cultivating, and lastly its prairies of pineapples, yams, tobacco, rice, cotton, and sugarcanes, which extended as far as the eye could reach, spreading out their riches with careless prodigality. barbicane appeared greatly satisfied on finding the progressive elevation of the ground, and when j.t. maston questioned him on the subject, "my worthy friend," said he, "it is greatly to our interest to cast our columbiad on elevated ground." "in order to be nearer the moon?" exclaimed the secretary of the gun club. "no," answered barbicane, smiling. "what can a few yards more or less matter? no, but on elevated ground our work can be accomplished more easily; we shall not have to struggle against water, which will save us long and expensive tubings, and that has to be taken into consideration when a well 900 feet deep has to be sunk." "you are right," said murchison, the engineer; "we must, as much as possible, avoid watercourses during the casting; but if we meet with springs they will not matter much; we can exhaust them with our machines or divert them from their course. here we have not to work at an artesian well, narrow and dark, where all the boring implements have to work in the dark. no; we can work under the open sky, with spade and pickaxe, and, by the help of blasting, our work will not take long." "still," resumed barbicane, "if by the elevation of the ground or its nature we can avoid a struggle with subterranean waters, we can do our work more rapidly and perfectly; we must, therefore, make our cutting in ground situated some thousands of feet above the level of the sea." "you are right, mr. barbicane, and, if i am not mistaken, we shall soon find a suitable spot." "i should like to see the first spadeful turned up," said the president. "and i the last!" exclaimed j.t. maston. "we shall manage it, gentlemen," answered the engineer; "and, believe me, the goldspring company will not have to pay you any forfeit for delay." "faith! it had better not," replied j.t. maston; "a hundred dollars a day till the moon presents herself in the same conditions--that is to say, for eighteen years and eleven days--do you know that would make 658,000 dollars?" "no, sir, we do not know, and we shall not need to learn." about ten a.m. the little troop had journeyed about twelve miles; to the fertile country succeeded a forest region. there were the most varied perfumes in tropical profusion. the almost impenetrable forests were made up of pomegranates, orange, citron, fig, olive, and apricot trees, bananas, huge vines, the blossoms and fruit of which rivalled each other in colour and perfume. under the perfumed shade of these magnificent trees sang and fluttered a world of brilliantly-coloured birds, amongst which the crab-eater deserved a jewel casket, worthy of its feathered gems, for a nest. j.t. maston and the major could not pass through such opulent nature without admiring its splendid beauty. but president barbicane, who thought little of these marvels, was in a hurry to hasten onwards; this country, so fertile, displeased him by its very fertility; without being otherwise hydropical, he felt water under his feet, and sought in vain the signs of incontestable aridity. in the meantime they journeyed on. they were obliged to ford several rivers, and not without danger, for they were infested with alligators from fifteen to eighteen feet long. j.t. maston threatened them boldly with his formidable hook, but he only succeeded in frightening the pelicans, phaetons, and teals that frequented the banks, while the red flamingoes looked on with a stupid stare. at last these inhabitants of humid countries disappeared in their turn. the trees became smaller and more thinly scattered in smaller woods; some isolated groups stood amidst immense plains where ranged herds of startled deer. "at last!" exclaimed barbicane, rising in his stirrups. "here is the region of pines." "and savages," answered the major. in fact, a few seminoles appeared on the horizon. they moved about backwards and forwards on their fleet horses, brandishing long lances or firing their guns with a dull report. however, they confined themselves to these hostile demonstrations, which had no effect on barbicane and his companions. they were then in the middle of a rocky plain, a vast open space of several acres in extent which the sun covered with burning rays. it was formed by a wide elevation of the soil, and seemed to offer to the members of the gun club all the required conditions for the construction of their columbiad. "halt!" cried barbicane, stopping. "has this place any name?" "it is called stony hill," answered the floridians. barbicane, without saying a word, dismounted, took his instruments, and began to fix his position with extreme precision. the little troop drawn up around him watched him in profound silence. at that moment the sun passed the meridian. barbicane, after an interval, rapidly noted the result of his observation, and said-"this place is situated 1,800 feet above the sea level in lat. 27° 7' and west long. 5° 7' by the washington meridian. it appears to me by its barren and rocky nature to offer every condition favourable to our enterprise; we will therefore raise our magazines, workshops, furnaces, and workmen's huts here, and it is from this very spot," said he, stamping upon it with his foot, "the summit of stony hill, that our projectile will start for the regions of the solar world!" chapter xiv. pickaxe and trowel. that same evening barbicane and his companions returned to tampa town, and murchison, the engineer, re-embarked on board the _tampico_ for new orleans. he was to engage an army of workmen to bring back the greater part of the working-stock. the members of the gun club remained at tampa town in order to set on foot the preliminary work with the assistance of the inhabitants of the country. eight days after its departure the _tampico_ returned to the espiritu-santo bay with a fleet of steamboats. murchison had succeeded in getting together 1,500 workmen. in the evil days of slavery he would have lost his time and trouble; but since america, the land of liberty, has only contained freemen, they flock wherever they can get good pay. now money was not wanting to the gun club; it offered a high rate of wages with considerable and proportionate perquisites. the workman enlisted for florida could, once the work finished, depend upon a capital placed in his name in the bank of baltimore. murchison had therefore only to pick and choose, and could be severe about the intelligence and skill of his workmen. he enrolled in his working legion the pick of mechanics, stokers, iron-founders, lime-burners, miners, brickmakers, and artisans of every sort, white or black without distinction of colour. many of them brought their families with them. it was quite an emigration. on the 31st of october, at 10 a.m., this troop landed on the quays of tampa town. the movement and activity which reigned in the little town that had thus doubled its population in a single day may be imagined. in fact, tampa town was enormously benefited by this enterprise of the gun club, not by the number of workmen who were immediately drafted to stony hill, but by the influx of curious idlers who converged by degrees from all points of the globe towards the floridian peninsula. during the first few days they were occupied in unloading the flotilla of the tools, machines, provisions, and a large number of plate iron houses made in pieces separately pieced and numbered. at the same time barbicane laid the first sleepers of a railway fifteen miles long that was destined to unite stony hill and tampa town. it is known how american railways are constructed, with capricious bends, bold slopes, steep hills, and deep valleys. they do not cost much and are not much in their way, only their trains run off or jump off as they please. the railway from tampa town to stony hill was but a trifle, and wanted neither much time nor much money for its construction. barbicane was the soul of this army of workmen who had come at his call. he animated them, communicated to them his ardour, enthusiasm, and conviction. he was everywhere at once, as if endowed with the gift of ubiquity, and always followed by j.t. maston, his bluebottle fly. his practical mind invented a thousand things. with him there were no obstacles, difficulties, or embarrassment. he was as good a miner, mason, and mechanic as he was an artilleryman, having an answer to every question, and a solution to every problem. he corresponded actively with the gun club and the goldspring manufactory, and day and night the _tampico_ kept her steam up awaiting his orders in hillisboro harbour. barbicane, on the 1st of november, left tampa town with a detachment of workmen, and the very next day a small town of workmen's houses rose round stony hill. they surrounded it with palisades, and from its movement and ardour it might soon have been taken for one of the great cities of the union. life was regulated at once and work began in perfect order. careful boring had established the nature of the ground, and digging was begun on november 4th. that day barbicane called his foremen together and said to them-"you all know, my friends, why i have called you together in this part of florida. we want to cast a cannon nine feet in diameter, six feet thick, and with a stone revetment nineteen and a half feet thick; we therefore want a well 60 feet wide and 900 feet deep. this large work must be terminated in nine months. you have, therefore, 2,543,400 cubic feet of soil to dig out in 255 days--that is to say, 10,000 cubic feet a day. that would offer no difficulty if you had plenty of elbow-room, but as you will only have a limited space it will be more trouble. nevertheless as the work must be done it will be done, and i depend upon your courage as much as upon your skill." at 8 a.m. the first spadeful was dug out of the floridian soil, and from that moment this useful tool did not stop idle a moment in the hands of the miner. the gangs relieved each other every three hours. besides, although the work was colossal it did not exceed the limit of human capability. far from that. how many works of much greater difficulty, and in which the elements had to be more directly contended against, had been brought to a successful termination! suffice it to mention the well of father joseph, made near cairo by the sultan saladin at an epoch when machines had not yet appeared to increase the strength of man a hundredfold, and which goes down to the level of the nile itself at a depth of 300 feet! and that other well dug at coblentz by the margrave jean of baden, 600 feet deep! all that was needed was a triple depth and a double width, which made the boring easier. there was not one foreman or workman who doubted about the success of the operation. an important decision taken by murchison and approved of by barbicane accelerated the work. an article in the contract decided that the columbiad should be hooped with wrought-iron--a useless precaution, for the cannon could evidently do without hoops. this clause was therefore given up. hence a great economy of time, for they could then employ the new system of boring now used for digging wells, by which the masonry is done at the same time as the boring. thanks to this very simple operation they were not obliged to prop up the ground; the wall kept it up and went down by its own weight. this manoeuvre was only to begin when the spade should have reached the solid part of the ground. on the 4th of november fifty workmen began to dig in the very centre of the inclosure surrounded by palisades--that is to say, the top of stony hill--a circular hole sixty feet wide. the spade first turned up a sort of black soil six inches deep, which it soon carried away. to this soil succeeded two feet of fine sand, which was carefully taken out, as it was to be used for the casting. after this sand white clay appeared, similar to english chalk, and which was four feet thick. then the pickaxes rang upon the hard layer, a species of rock formed by very dry petrified shells. at that point the hole was six and a half feet deep, and the masonry was begun. at the bottom of that excavation they made an oak wheel, a sort of circle strongly bolted and of enormous strength; in its centre a hole was pierced the size of the exterior diameter of the columbiad. it was upon this wheel that the foundations of the masonry were placed, the hydraulic cement of which joined the stones solidly together. after the workmen had bricked up the space from the circumference to the centre, they found themselves inclosed in a well twenty-one feet wide. when this work was ended the miners began again with spade and pickaxe, and set upon the rock under the wheel itself, taking care to support it on extremely strong tressels; every time the hole was two feet deeper they took away the tressels; the wheel gradually sank, taking with it its circle of masonry, at the upper layer of which the masons worked incessantly, taking care to make vent-holes for the escape of gas during the operation of casting. this kind of work required great skill and constant attention on the part of the workmen; more than one digging under the wheel was dangerous, and some were even mortally wounded by the splinters of stone; but their energy did not slacken for a moment by day nor night; by day, when the sun's rays sent the thermometer up to 99° on the calcined planes; by night, under the white waves of electric light, the noise of the pickaxe on the rock, the blasting and the machines, together with the wreaths of smoke scattered through the air, traced a circle of terror round stony hill, which the herds of buffaloes and the detachments of seminoles never dared to pass. in the meantime the work regularly advanced; steam-cranes speeded the carrying away of the rubbish; of unexpected obstacles there were none; all the difficulties had been foreseen and guarded against. when the first month had gone by the well had attained the depth assigned for the time--i.e., 112 feet. in december this depth was doubled, and tripled in january. during february the workmen had to contend against a sheet of water which sprang from the ground. they were obliged to employ powerful pumps and apparatus of compressed air to drain it off, so as to close up the orifice from which it issued, just as leaks are caulked on board ship. at last they got the better of these unwelcome springs, only in consequence of the loosening of the soil the wheel partially gave way, and there was a landslip. the frightful force of this bricked circle, more than 400 feet high, may be imagined! this accident cost the life of several workmen. three weeks had to be taken up in propping the stone revetment and making the wheel solid again. but, thanks to the skill of the engineer and the power of the machines, it was all set right, and the boring continued. no fresh incident henceforth stopped the progress of the work, and on the 10th of june, twenty days before the expiration of the delay fixed by barbicane, the well, quite bricked round, had reached the depth of 900 feet. at the bottom the masonry rested upon a massive block, thirty feet thick, whilst at the top it was on a level with the soil. president barbicane and the members of the gun club warmly congratulated the engineer murchison; his cyclopean work had been accomplished with extraordinary rapidity. during these eight months barbicane did not leave stony hill for a minute; whilst he narrowly watched over the boring operations, he took every precaution to insure the health and well-being of his workmen, and he was fortunate enough to avoid the epidemics common to large agglomerations of men, and so disastrous in those regions of the globe exposed to tropical influence. it is true that several workmen paid with their lives for the carelessness engendered by these dangerous occupations; but such deplorable misfortunes cannot be avoided, and these are details that americans pay very little attention to. they are more occupied with humanity in general than with individuals in particular. however, barbicane professed the contrary principles, and applied them upon every occasion. thanks to his care, to his intelligence and respectful intervention in difficult cases, to his prodigious and humane wisdom, the average of catastrophes did not exceed that of cities on the other side of the atlantic, amongst others those of france, where they count about one accident upon every 200,000 francs of work. chapter xv. the ceremony of the casting. during the eight months that were employed in the operation of boring the preparatory works of the casting had been conducted simultaneously with extreme rapidity; a stranger arriving at stony hill would have been much surprised at what he saw there. six hundred yards from the well, and standing in a circle round it as a central point, were 1,200 furnaces, each six feet wide and three yards apart. the line made by these 1,200 furnaces was two miles long. they were all built on the same model, with high quadrangular chimneys, and had a singular effect. j.t. maston thought the architectural arrangement superb. it reminded him of the monuments at washington. he thought there was nothing finer in the world, not even in greece, where he acknowledged never to have been. it will be remembered that at their third meeting the committee decided to use cast-iron for the columbiad, and in particular the grey description. this metal is, in fact, the most tenacious, ductile, and malleable, suitable for all moulding operations, and when smelted with pit coal it is of superior quality for engine-cylinders, hydraulic presses, &c. but cast-iron, if it has undergone a single fusion, is rarely homogeneous enough; and it is by means of a second fusion that it is purified, refined, and dispossessed of its last earthly deposits. before being forwarded to tampa town, the iron ore, smelted in the great furnaces of goldspring, and put in contact with coal and silicium heated to a high temperature, was transformed into cast-iron. after this first operation the metal was taken to stony hill. but there were 136 millions of pounds of cast-iron, a bulk too expensive to be sent by railway; the price of transport would have doubled that of the raw material. it appeared preferable to freight vessels at new york and to load them with the iron in bars; no less than sixty-eight vessels of 1,000 tons were required, quite a fleet, which on may 3rd left new york, took the ocean route, coasted the american shores, entered the bahama channel, doubled the point of florida, and on the 10th of the same month entered the bay of espiritu-santo and anchored safely in the port of tampa town. there the vessels were unloaded and their cargo carried by railway to stony hill, and about the middle of january the enormous mass of metal was delivered at its destination. it will easily be understood that 1,200 furnaces were not too many to melt these 60,000 tons of iron simultaneously. each of these furnaces contained about 1,400,000 lbs. of metal; they had been built on the model of those used for the casting of the rodman gun; they were trapezoidal in form, with a high elliptical arch. the warming apparatus and the chimney were placed at the two extremities of the furnace, so that it was equally heated throughout. these furnaces, built of fireproof brick, were filled with coal-grates and a "sole" for the bars of iron; this sole, inclosed at an angle of 25°, allowed the metal to flow into the receiving-troughs; from thence 1,200 converging trenches carried it down to the central well. the day following that upon which the works of masonry and casting were terminated, barbicane set to work upon the interior mould; his object now was to raise in the centre of the well, with a coincident axis, a cylinder 900 feet high and nine in diameter, to exactly fill up the space reserved for the bore of the columbiad. this cylinder was made of a mixture of clay and sand, with the addition of hay and straw. the space left between the mould and the masonry was to be filled with the molten metal, which would thus make the sides of the cannon six feet thick. this cylinder, in order to have its equilibrium maintained, had to be consolidated with iron bands and fixed at intervals by means of cross-clamps fastened into the stone lining; after the casting these clamps would be lost in the block of metal, which would not be the worse for them. this operation was completed on the 8th of july, and the casting was fixed for the 10th. "the casting will be a fine ceremony," said j.t. maston to his friend barbicane. "undoubtedly," answered barbicane, "but it will not be a public one!" "what! you will not open the doors of the inclosure to all comers?" "certainly not; the casting of the columbiad is a delicate, not to say a dangerous, operation, and i prefer that it should be done with closed doors. when the projectile is discharged you may have a public ceremony if you like, but till then, no!" the president was right; the operation might be attended with unforeseen danger, which a large concourse of spectators would prevent being averted. it was necessary to preserve complete freedom of movement. no one was admitted into the inclosure except a delegation of members of the gun club who made the voyage to tampa town. among them was the brisk bilsby, tom hunter, colonel blomsberry, major elphinstone, general morgan, and _tutti quanti_, to whom the casting of the columbiad was a personal business. j.t. maston constituted himself their cicerone; he did not excuse them any detail; he led them about everywhere, through the magazines, workshops, amongst the machines, and he forced them to visit the 1,200 furnaces one after the other. at the end of the 1,200th visit they were rather sick of it. the casting was to take place precisely at twelve o'clock; the evening before each furnace had been charged with 114,000 lbs. of metal in bars disposed crossway to each other so that the warm air could circulate freely amongst them. since early morning the 1,200 chimneys had been pouring forth volumes of flames into the atmosphere, and the soil was shaken convulsively. there were as many pounds of coal to be burnt as metal to be melted. there were, therefore, 68,000 tons of coal throwing up before the sun a thick curtain of black smoke. the heat soon became unbearable in the circle of furnaces, the rambling of which resembled the rolling of thunder; powerful bellows added their continuous blasts, and saturated the incandescent furnaces with oxygen. the operation of casting in order to succeed must be done rapidly. at a signal given by a cannon-shot each furnace was to pour out the liquid iron and to be entirely emptied. these arrangements made, foremen and workmen awaited the preconcerted moment with impatience mixed with emotion. there was no longer any one in the inclosure, and each superintendent took his place near the aperture of the run. barbicane and his colleagues, installed on a neighbouring eminence, assisted at the operation. before them a cannon was planted ready to be fired as a sign from the engineer. a few minutes before twelve the first drops of metal began to run; the reservoirs were gradually filled, and when the iron was all in a liquid state it was left quiet for some instants in order to facilitate the separation of foreign substances. twelve o'clock struck. the cannon was suddenly fired, and shot its flame into the air. twelve hundred tapping-holes were opened simultaneously, and twelve hundred fiery serpents crept along twelve hundred troughs towards the central well, rolling in rings of fire. there they plunged with terrific noise down a depth of 900 feet. it was an exciting and magnificent spectacle. the ground trembled, whilst these waves of iron, throwing into the sky their clouds of smoke, evaporated at the same time the humidity of the mould, and hurled it upwards through the vent-holes of the masonry in the form of impenetrable vapour. these artificial clouds unrolled their thick spirals as they went up to a height of 3,000 feet into the air. any red indian wandering upon the limits of the horizon might have believed in the formation of a new crater in the heart of florida, and yet it was neither an irruption, nor a typhoon, nor a storm, nor a struggle of the elements, nor one of those terrible phenomena which nature is capable of producing. no; man alone had produced those reddish vapours, those gigantic flames worthy of a volcano, those tremendous vibrations like the shock of an earthquake, those reverberations, rivals of hurricanes and storms, and it was his hand which hurled into an abyss, dug by himself, a whole niagara of molten metal! chapter xvi. the columbiad. had the operation of casting succeeded? people were reduced to mere conjecture. however, there was every reason to believe in its success, as the mould had absorbed the entire mass of metal liquefied in the furnaces. still it was necessarily a long time impossible to be certain. in fact, when major rodman cast his cannon of 160,000 lbs., it took no less than a fortnight to cool. how long, therefore, would the monstrous columbiad, crowned with its clouds of vapour, and guarded by its intense heat, be kept from the eyes of its admirers? it was difficult to estimate. the impatience of the members of the gun club was put to a rude test during this lapse of time. but it could not be helped. j.t. maston was nearly roasted through his anxiety. a fortnight after the casting an immense column of smoke was still soaring towards the sky, and the ground burnt the soles of the feet within a radius of 200 feet round the summit of stony hill. the days went by; weeks followed them. there were no means of cooling the immense cylinder. it was impossible to approach it. the members of the gun club were obliged to wait with what patience they could muster. "here we are at the 10th of august," said j.t. maston one morning. "it wants hardly four months to the 1st of december! there still remains the interior mould to be taken out, and the columbiad to be loaded! we never shall be ready! one cannot even approach the cannon! will it never get cool? that would be a cruel deception!" they tried to calm the impatient secretary without succeeding. barbicane said nothing, but his silence covered serious irritation. to see himself stopped by an obstacle that time alone could remove--time, an enemy to be feared under the circumstances--and to be in the power of an enemy was hard for men of war. however, daily observations showed a certain change in the state of the ground. towards the 15th of august the vapour thrown off had notably diminished in intensity and thickness. a few days after the earth only exhaled a slight puff of smoke, the last breath of the monster shut up in its stone tomb. by degrees the vibrations of the ground ceased, and the circle of heat contracted; the most impatient of the spectators approached; one day they gained ten feet, the next twenty, and on the 22nd of august barbicane, his colleagues, and the engineer could take their place on the cast-iron surface which covered the summit of stony hill, certainly a very healthy spot, where it was not yet allowed to have cold feet. "at last!" cried the president of the gun club with an immense sigh of satisfaction. the works were resumed the same day. the extraction of the interior mould was immediately proceeded with in order to clear out the bore; pickaxes, spades, and boring-tools were set to work without intermission; the clay and sand had become exceedingly hard under the action of the heat; but by the help of machines they cleared away the mixture still burning at its contact with the iron; the rubbish was rapidly carted away on the railway, and the work was done with such spirit, barbicane's intervention was so urgent, and his arguments, presented under the form of dollars, carried so much conviction, that on the 3rd of september all trace of the mould had disappeared. the operation of boring was immediately begun; the boring-machines were set up without delay, and a few weeks later the interior surface of the immense tube was perfectly cylindrical, and the bore had acquired a high polish. at last, on the 22nd of september, less than a year after the barbicane communication, the enormous weapon, raised by means of delicate instruments, and quite vertical, was ready for use. there was nothing but the moon to wait for, but they were sure she would not fail. j.t. maston's joy knew no bounds, and he nearly had a frightful fall whilst looking down the tube of 900 feet. without colonel blomsberry's right arm, which he had happily preserved, the secretary of the gun club, like a modern erostatus, would have found a grave in the depths of the columbiad. the cannon was then finished; there was no longer any possible doubt as to its perfect execution; so on the 6th of october captain nicholl cleared off his debt to president barbicane, who inscribed in his receipt-column a sum of 2,000 dollars. it may be believed that the captain's anger reached its highest pitch, and cost him an illness. still there were yet three bets of 3,000, 4,000, and 5,000 dollars, and if he only gained 2,000, his bargain would not be a bad one, though not excellent. but money did not enter into his calculations, and the success obtained by his rival in the casting of a cannon against which iron plates sixty feet thick would not have resisted was a terrible blow to him. since the 23rd of september the inclosure on stony hill had been quite open to the public, and the concourse of visitors will be readily imagined. in fact, innumerable people from all points of the united states flocked to florida. the town of tampa was prodigiously increased during that year, consecrated entirely to the works of the gun club; it then comprised a population of 150,000 souls. after having surrounded fort brooke in a network of streets it was now being lengthened out on that tongue of land which separated the two harbours of espiritu-santo bay; new quarters, new squares, and a whole forest of houses had grown up in these formerly-deserted regions under the heat of the american sun. companies were formed for the erection of churches, schools, private dwellings, and in less than a year the size of the town was increased tenfold. it is well known that yankees are born business men; everywhere that destiny takes them, from the glacial to the torrid zone, their instinct for business is usefully exercised. that is why simple visitors to florida for the sole purpose of following the operations of the gun club allowed themselves to be involved in commercial operations as soon as they were installed in tampa town. the vessels freighted for the transport of the metal and the workmen had given unparalleled activity to the port. soon other vessels of every form and tonnage, freighted with provisions and merchandise, ploughed the bay and the two harbours; vast offices of shipbrokers and merchants were established in the town, and the _shipping gazette_ each day published fresh arrivals in the port of tampa. whilst roads were multiplied round the town, in consequence of the prodigious increase in its population and commerce, it was joined by railway to the southern states of the union. one line of rails connected la mobile to pensacola, the great southern maritime arsenal; thence from that important point it ran to tallahassee. there already existed there a short line, twenty-one miles long, to saint marks on the seashore. it was this loop-line that was prolonged as far as tampa town, awakening in its passage the dead or sleeping portions of central florida. thus tampa, thanks to these marvels of industry due to the idea born one line day in the brain of one man, could take as its right the airs of a large town. they surnamed it "moon-city," and the capital of florida suffered an eclipse visible from all points of the globe. every one will now understand why the rivalry was so great between texas and florida, and the irritation of the texicans when they saw their pretensions set aside by the gun club. in their long-sighted sagacity they had foreseen what a country might gain from the experiment attempted by barbicane, and the wealth that would accompany such a cannon-shot. texas lost a vast centre of commerce, railways, and a considerable increase of population. all these advantages had been given to that miserable floridian peninsula, thrown like a pier between the waves of the gulf and those of the atlantic ocean. barbicane, therefore, divided with general santa-anna the texan antipathy. however, though given up to its commercial and industrial fury, the new population of tampa town took care not to forget the interesting operations of the gun club. on the contrary, the least details of the enterprise, every blow of the pickaxe, interested them. there was an incessant flow of people to and from tampa town to stony hill--a perfect procession, or, better still, a pilgrimage. it was already easy to foresee that the day of the experiment the concourse of spectators would be counted by millions, for they came already from all points of the earth to the narrow peninsula. europe was emigrating to america. but until then, it must be acknowledged, the curiosity of the numerous arrivals had only been moderately satisfied. many counted upon seeing the casting who only saw the smoke from it. this was not much for hungry eyes, but barbicane would allow no one to see that operation. thereupon ensued grumbling, discontent, and murmurs; they blamed the president for what they considered dictatorial conduct. his act was stigmatised as "un-american." there was nearly a riot round stony hill, but barbicane was not to be moved. when, however, the columbiad was quite finished, this state of closed doors could no longer be kept up; besides, it would have been in bad taste, and even imprudent, to offend public opinion. barbicane, therefore, opened the inclosure to all comers; but, in accordance with his practical character, he determined to coin money out of the public curiosity. it was, indeed, something to even be allowed to see this immense columbiad, but to descend into its depths seemed to the americans the _ne plus ultra_ of earthly felicity. in consequence there was not one visitor who was not willing to give himself the pleasure of visiting the interior of this metallic abyss. baskets hung from steam-cranes allowed them to satisfy their curiosity. it became a perfect mania. women, children, and old men all made it their business to penetrate the mysteries of the colossal gun. the price for the descent was fixed at five dollars a head, and, notwithstanding this high charge, during the two months that preceded the experiment, the influx of visitors allowed the gun club to pocket nearly 500,000 dollars! it need hardly be said that the first visitors to the columbiad were the members of the gun club. this privilege was justly accorded to that illustrious body. the ceremony of reception took place on the 25th of september. a basket of honour took down the president, j.t. maston, major elphinstone, general morgan, colonel blomsberry, and other members of the gun club, ten in all. how hot they were at the bottom of that long metal tube! they were nearly stifled, but how delightful--how exquisite! a table had been laid for ten on the massive stone which formed the bottom of the columbiad, and was lighted by a jet of electric light as bright as day itself. numerous exquisite dishes, that seemed to descend from heaven, were successively placed before the guests, and the richest wines of france flowed profusely during this splendid repast, given 900 feet below the surface of the earth! the festival was a gay, not to say a noisy one. toasts were given and replied to. they drank to the earth and her satellite, to the gun club, the union, the moon, diana, phoebe, selene, "the peaceful courier of the night." all the hurrahs, carried up by the sonorous waves of the immense acoustic tube, reached its mouth with a noise of thunder; then the multitude round stony hill heartily united their shouts to those of the ten revellers hidden from sight in the depths of the gigantic columbiad. j.t. maston could contain himself no longer. whether he shouted or ate, gesticulated or talked most would be difficult to determine. any way he would not have given up his place 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 universe." chapter xvii. a telegram. the great work undertaken by the gun club was now virtually ended, and yet two months would still elapse before the day the projectile would start for the moon. these two months would seem as long as two years to the universal impatience. until then the smallest details of each operation had appeared in the newspapers every day, and were eagerly devoured by the public, but now it was to be feared that this "interest dividend" would be much diminished, and every one was afraid of no longer receiving his daily share of emotions. they were all agreeably disappointed: the most unexpected, extraordinary, incredible, and improbable incident happened in time to keep up the general excitement to its highest pitch. on september 30th, at 3.47 p.m., a telegram, transmitted through the atlantic cable, arrived at tampa town for president barbicane. he tore open the envelope and read the message, and, notwithstanding his great self-control, his lips grew pale and his eyes dim as he read the telegram. the following is the text of the message stored in the archives of the gun club:-"france, paris, "september 30th, 4 a.m. "barbicane, tampa town, florida, united states. "substitute a cylindro-conical projectile for your spherical shell. shall go inside. shall arrive by steamer _atlanta_. "michel ardan." chapter xviii. the passenger of the atlanta. if this wonderful news, instead of coming by telegraph, had simply arrived by post and in a sealed envelope--if the french, irish, newfoundland, and american telegraph clerks had not necessarily been acquainted with it--barbicane would not have hesitated for a moment. he would have been quite silent about it for prudence' sake, and in order not to throw discredit on his work. this telegram might be a practical joke, especially as it came from a frenchman. what probability could there be that any man should conceive the idea of such a journey? and if the man did exist was he not a madman who would have to be inclosed in a strait-waistcoat instead of in a cannon-ball? but the message was known, and michel ardan's proposition was already all over the states of the union, so barbicane had no reason for silence. he therefore called together his colleagues then in tampa town, and, without showing what he thought about it or saying a word about the degree of credibility the telegram deserved, he read coldly the laconic text. "not possible!"--"unheard of!"--"they are laughing at us!"--"ridiculous!"--"absurd!" every sort of expression for doubt, incredulity, and folly was heard for some minutes with accompaniment of appropriate gestures. j.t. maston alone uttered the words:-"that's an idea!" he exclaimed. "yes," answered the major, "but if people have such ideas as that they ought not to think of putting them into execution." "why not?" quickly answered the secretary of the gun club, ready for an argument. but the subject was let drop. in the meantime michel ardan's name was already going about tampa town. strangers and natives talked and joked together, not about the european--evidently a mythical personage--but about j.t. maston, who had the folly to believe in his existence. when barbicane proposed to send a projectile to the moon every one thought the enterprise natural and practicable--a simple affair of ballistics. but that a reasonable being should offer to go the journey inside the projectile was a farce, or, to use a familiar americanism, it was all "humbug." this laughter lasted till evening throughout the union, an unusual thing in a country where any impossible enterprise finds adepts and partisans. still michel ardan's proposition did not fail to awaken a certain emotion in many minds. "they had not thought of such a thing." how many things denied one day had become realities the next! why should not this journey be accomplished one day or another? but, any way, the man who would run such a risk must be a madman, and certainly, as his project could not be taken seriously, he would have done better to be quiet about it, instead of troubling a whole population with such ridiculous trash. but, first of all, did this personage really exist? that was the great question. the name of "michel ardan" was not altogether unknown in america. it belonged to a european much talked about for his audacious enterprises. then the telegram sent all across the depths of the atlantic, the designation of the ship upon which the frenchman had declared he had taken his passage, the date assigned for his arrival--all these circumstances gave to the proposition a certain air of probability. they were obliged to disburden their minds about it. soon these isolated individuals formed into groups, the groups became condensed under the action of curiosity like atoms by virtue of molecular attraction, and the result was a compact crowd going towards president barbicane's dwelling. the president, since the arrival of the message, had not said what he thought about it; he had let j.t. maston express his opinions without manifesting either approbation or blame. he kept quiet, proposing to await events, but he had not taken public impatience into consideration, and was not very pleased at the sight of the population of tampa town assembled under his windows. murmurs, cries, and vociferations soon forced him to appear. it will be seen that he had all the disagreeables as well as the duties of a public man. he therefore appeared; silence was made, and a citizen asked him the following question:--"is the person designated in the telegram as michel ardan on his way to america or not?" "gentlemen," answered barbicane, "i know no more than you." "we must get to know," exclaimed some impatient voices. "time will inform us," answered the president coldly. "time has no right to keep a whole country in suspense," answered the orator. "have you altered your plans for the projectile as the telegram demanded?" "not yet, gentlemen; but you are right, we must have recourse to the telegraph that has caused all this emotion." "to the telegraph-office!" cried the crowd. barbicane descended into the street, and, heading the immense assemblage, he went towards the telegraph-office. a few minutes afterwards a telegram was on its way to the underwriters at liverpool, asking for an answer to the following questions:-"what sort of vessel is the _atlanta_? when did she leave europe? had she a frenchman named michel ardan on board?" two hours afterwards barbicane received such precise information that doubt was no longer possible. "the steamer _atlanta_, from liverpool, set sail on october 2nd for tampa town, having on board a frenchman inscribed in the passengers' book as michel ardan." at this confirmation of the first telegram the eyes of the president were lighted up with a sudden flame; he clenched his hands, and was heard to mutter-"it is true, then! it is possible, then! the frenchman does exist! and in a fortnight he will be here! but he is a madman! i never can consent." and yet the very same evening he wrote to the firm of breadwill and co. begging them to suspend the casting of the projectile until fresh orders. now how can the emotion be described which took possession of the whole of america? the effect of the barbicane proposition was surpassed tenfold; what the newspapers of the union said, the way they accepted the news, and how they chanted the arrival of this hero from the old continent; how to depict the feverish agitation in which every one lived, counting the hours, minutes, and seconds; how to give even a feeble idea of the effect of one idea upon so many heads; how to show every occupation being given up for a single preoccupation, work stopped, commerce suspended, vessels, ready to start, waiting in the ports so as not to miss the arrival of the _atlanta_, every species of conveyance arriving full and returning empty, the bay of espiritu-santo incessantly ploughed by steamers, packet-boats, pleasure-yachts, and fly-boats of all dimensions; how to denominate in numbers the thousands of curious people who in a fortnight increased the population of tampa town fourfold, and were obliged to encamp under tents like an army in campaign--all this is a task above human force, and could not be undertaken without rashness. at 9 a.m. on the 20th of october the semaphores of the bahama channel signalled thick smoke on the horizon. two hours later a large steamer exchanged signals with them. the name _atlanta_ was immediately sent to tampa town. at 4 p.m. the english vessel entered the bay of espiritu-santo. at 5 p.m. she passed the entrance to hillisboro harbour, and at 6 p.m. weighed anchor in the port of tampa town. the anchor had not reached its sandy bed before 500 vessels surrounded the _atlanta_ and the steamer was taken by assault. barbicane was the first on deck, and in a voice the emotion of which he tried in vain to suppress-"michel ardan!" he exclaimed. "present!" answered an individual mounted on the poop. barbicane, with his arms crossed, questioning eyes, and silent mouth, looked fixedly at the passenger of the _atlanta_. he was a man forty-two years of age, tall, but already rather stooping, like caryatides which support balconies on their shoulders. his large head shook every now and then a shock of red hair like a lion's mane; a short face, wide forehead, a moustache bristling like a cat's whiskers, and little bunches of yellow hair on the middle of his cheeks, round and rather wild-looking, short-sighted eyes completed this eminently feline physiognomy. but the nose was boldly cut, the mouth particularly humane, the forehead high, intelligent, and ploughed like a field that was never allowed to remain fallow. lastly, a muscular body well poised on long limbs, muscular arms, powerful and well-set levers, and a decided gait made a solidly built fellow of this european, "rather wrought than cast," to borrow one of his expressions from metallurgic art. the disciples of lavater or gratiolet would have easily deciphered in the cranium and physiognomy of this personage indisputable signs of combativity--that is to say, of courage in danger and tendency to overcome obstacles, those of benevolence, and a belief in the marvellous, an instinct that makes many natures dwell much on superhuman things; but, on the other hand, the bumps of acquisivity, the need of possessing and acquiring, were absolutely wanting. to put the finishing touches to the physical type of the passenger of the _atlanta_, his garments wide, loose, and flowing, open cravat, wide collar, and cuffs always unbuttoned, through which came nervous hands. people felt that even in the midst of winter and dangers that man was never cold. on the deck of the steamer, amongst the crowd, he bustled about, never still for a moment, "dragging his anchors," in nautical speech, gesticulating, making friends with everybody, and biting his nails nervously. he was one of those original beings whom the creator invents in a moment of fantasy, and of whom he immediately breaks the cast. in fact, the character of michel ardan offered a large field for physiological analysis. this astonishing man lived in a perpetual disposition to hyperbole, and had not yet passed the age of superlatives; objects depicted themselves on the retina of his eye with exaggerated dimensions; from thence an association of gigantic ideas; he saw everything on a large scale except difficulties and men. he was besides of a luxuriant nature, an artist by instinct, and witty fellow; he loved arguments _ad hominem_, and defended the weak side tooth and nail. amongst other peculiarities he gave himself out as "sublimely ignorant," like shakspeare, and professed supreme contempt for all _savants_, "people," said he, "who only score our points." he was, in short, a bohemian of the country of brains, adventurous but not an adventurer, a harebrained fellow, a phaeton running away with the horses of the sun, a kind of icarus with relays of wings. he had a wonderful facility for getting into scrapes, and an equally wonderful facility for getting out of them again, falling on his feet like a cat. in short, his motto was, "whatever it may cost!" and the love of the impossible his "ruling passion," according to pope's fine expression. but this enterprising fellow had the defects of his qualities. who risks nothing wins nothing, it is said. ardan often risked much and got nothing. he was perfectly disinterested and chivalric; he would not have signed the death-warrant of his worst enemy, and would have sold himself into slavery to redeem a negro. in france and europe everybody knew this brilliant, bustling person. did he not get talked of ceaselessly by the hundred voices of fame, hoarse in his service? did he not live in a glass house, taking the entire universe as confidant of his most intimate secrets? but he also possessed an admirable collection of enemies amongst those he had cuffed and wounded whilst using his elbows to make a passage in the crowd. still he was generally liked and treated like a spoiled child. every one was interested in his bold enterprises, and followed them with uneasy mind. he was known to be so imprudent! when some friend wished to stop him by predicting an approaching catastrophe, "the forest is only burnt by its own trees," he answered with an amiable smile, not knowing that he was quoting the prettiest of arabian proverbs. such was the passenger of the _atlanta_, always in a bustle, always boiling under the action of inward fire, always moved, not by what he had come to do in america--he did not even think about it--but on account of his feverish organisation. if ever individuals offered a striking contrast they were the frenchman michel ardan and the yankee barbicane, both, however, enterprising, bold, and audacious, each in his own way. barbicane's contemplation of his rival was quickly interrupted by the cheers of the crowd. these cries became even so frantic and the enthusiasm took such a personal form that michel ardan, after having shaken a thousand hands in which he nearly left his ten fingers, was obliged to take refuge in his cabin. barbicane followed him without having uttered a word. "you are barbicane?" michel ardan asked him as soon as they were alone, and in the same tone as he would have spoken to a friend of twenty years' standing. "yes," answered the president of the gun club. "well, good morning, barbicane. how are you? very well? that's right! that's right!" "then," said barbicane, without further preliminary, "you have decided to go?" "quite decided." "nothing will stop you?" "nothing. have you altered your projectile as i told you in my message?" "i waited till you came. but," asked barbicane, insisting once more, "you have quite reflected?" "reflected! have i any time to lose? i find the occasion to go for a trip to the moon, i profit by it, and that is all. it seems to me that does not want so much reflection." barbicane looked eagerly at the man who spoke of his project of journey with so much carelessness, and with such absence of anxiety. "but at least," he said, "you have some plan, some means of execution?" "excellent means. but allow me to tell you one thing. i like to say my say once and for all, and to everybody, and to hear no more about it. then, unless you can think of something better, call together your friends, your colleagues, all the town, all florida, all america if you like, and to-morrow i shall be ready to state my means of execution, and answer any objections, whatever they may be. will that do?" "yes, that will do," answered barbicane. whereupon the president left the cabin, and told the crowd about michel ardan's proposition. his words were received with great demonstrations of joy. that cut short all difficulties. the next day every one could contemplate the european hero at their ease. still some of the most obstinate spectators would not leave the deck of the _atlanta_; they passed the night on board. amongst others, j.t. maston had screwed his steel hook into the combing of the poop, and it would have taken the capstan to get it out again. "he is a hero! a hero!" cried he in every tone, "and we are only old women compared to that european!" as to the president, after having requested the spectators to withdraw, he re-entered the passenger's cabin, and did not leave it till the bell of the steamer rang out the midnight quarter. but then the two rivals in popularity shook each other warmly by the hand, and separated friends. chapter xix. a meeting. the next day the sun did not rise early enough to satisfy public impatience. barbicane, fearing that indiscreet questions would be put to michel ardan, would like to have reduced his auditors to a small number of adepts, to his colleagues for instance. but it was as easy as to dam up the falls at niagara. he was, therefore, obliged to renounce his project, and let his friend run all the risks of a public lecture. the new town hall of tampa town, notwithstanding its colossal dimensions, was considered insufficient for the occasion, which had assumed the proportions of a public meeting. the place chosen was a vast plain, situated outside the town. in a few hours they succeeded in sheltering it from the rays of the sun. the ships of the port, rich in canvas, furnished the necessary accessories for a colossal tent. soon an immense sky of cloth was spread over the calcined plain, and defended it against the heat of the day. there 300,000 persons stood and braved a stifling temperature for several hours whilst awaiting the frenchman's arrival. of that crowd of spectators one-third alone could see and hear; a second third saw badly, and did not hear. as to the remaining third, it neither heard nor saw, though it was not the least eager to applaud. at three o'clock michel ardan made his appearance, accompanied by the principal members of the gun club. he gave his right arm to president barbicane, and his left to j.t. maston, more radiant than the midday sun, and nearly as ruddy. ardan mounted the platform, from which his eyes extended over a forest of black hats. he did not seem in the least embarrassed; he did not pose; he was at home there, gay, familiar, and amiable. to the cheers that greeted him he answered by a gracious bow; then with his hand asked for silence, began to speak in english, and expressed himself very correctly in these terms:-"gentlemen," said he, "although it is very warm, i intend to keep you a few minutes to give you some explanation of the projects which have appeared to interest you. i am neither an orator nor a _savant_, and i did not count upon having to speak in public; but my friend barbicane tells me it would give you pleasure, so i do it. then listen to me with your 600,000 ears, and please to excuse the faults of the orator." this unceremonious beginning was much admired by the audience, who expressed their satisfaction by an immense murmur of applause. "gentlemen," said he, "no mark of approbation or dissent is prohibited. that settled, i continue. and, first of all, do not forget that you have to do with an ignorant man, but his ignorance goes far enough to ignore difficulties. it has, therefore, appeared a simple, natural, and easy thing to him to take his passage in a projectile and to start for the moon. that journey would be made sooner or later, and as to the mode of locomotion adopted, it simply follows the law of progress. man began by travelling on all fours, then one fine day he went on two feet, then in a cart, then in a coach, then on a railway. well, the projectile is the carriage of the future, and, to speak the truth, planets are only projectiles, simple cannon-balls hurled by the hand of the creator. but to return to our vehicle. some of you, gentlemen, may think that the speed it will travel at is excessive--nothing of the kind. all the planets go faster, and the earth itself in its movement round the sun carries us along three times as fast. here are some examples. only i ask your permission to express myself in leagues, for american measures are not very familiar to me, and i fear getting muddled in my calculations." the demand appeared quite simple, and offered no difficulty. the orator resumed his speech. "the following, gentlemen, is the speed of the different planets. i am obliged to acknowledge that, notwithstanding my ignorance, i know this small astronomical detail exactly, but in two minutes you will be as learned as i. learn, then, that neptune goes at the rate of 5,000 leagues an hour; uranus, 7,000; saturn, 8,858; jupiter, 11,675; mars, 22,011; the earth, 27,500; venus, 32,190; mercury, 52,520; some comets, 14,000 leagues in their perihelion! as to us, veritable idlers, people in no hurry, our speed does not exceed 9,900 leagues, and it will go on decreasing! i ask you if there is anything to wonder at, and if it is not evident that it will be surpassed some day by still greater speeds, of which light or electricity will probably be the mechanical agents?" no one seemed to doubt this affirmation. "dear hearers," he resumed, "according to certain narrow minds--that is the best qualification for them--humanity is inclosed in a popilius circle which it cannot break open, and is condemned to vegetate upon this globe without ever flying towards the planetary shores! nothing of the kind! we are going to the moon, we shall go to the planets, we shall go to the stars as we now go from liverpool to new york, easily, rapidly, surely, and the atmospheric ocean will be as soon crossed as the oceans of the earth! distance is only a relative term, and will end by being reduced to zero." the assembly, though greatly in favour of the french hero, was rather staggered by this audacious theory. michel ardan appeared to see it. "you do not seem convinced, my worthy hosts," he continued with an amiable smile. "well, let us reason a little. do you know how long it would take an express train to reach the moon? three hundred days. not more. a journey of 86,410 leagues, but what is that? not even nine times round the earth, and there are very few sailors who have not done that during their existence. think, i shall be only ninety-eight hours on the road! ah, you imagine that the moon is a long way from the earth, and that one must think twice before attempting the adventure! but what would you say if i were going to neptune, which gravitates at 1,147,000,000 leagues from the sun? that is a journey that very few people could go, even if it only cost a farthing a mile! even baron rothschild would not have enough to take his ticket!" this argument seemed greatly to please the assembly; besides, michel ardan, full of his subject, grew superbly eloquent; he felt he was listened to, and resumed with admirable assurance-"well, my friends, this distance from neptune to the sun is nothing compared to that of the stars, some of which are billions of leagues from the sun! and yet people speak of the distance that separates the planets from the sun! do you know what i think of this universe that begins with the sun and ends at neptune? should you like to know my theory? it is a very simple one. according to my opinion, the solar universe is one solid homogeneous mass; the planets that compose it are close together, crowd one another, and the space between them is only the space that separates the molecules of the most compact metal--silver, iron, or platinum! i have, therefore, the right to affirm, and i will repeat it with a conviction you will all share--distance is a vain word; distance does not exist!" "well said! bravo! hurrah!" cried the assembly with one voice, electrified by the gesture and accent of the orator, and the boldness of his conceptions. "no!" cried j.t. maston, more energetically than the others; "distance does not exist!" and, carried away by the violence of his movements and emotions he could hardly contain, he nearly fell from the top of the platform to the ground. but he succeeded in recovering his equilibrium, and thus avoided a fall that would have brutally proved distance not to be a vain word. then the speech of the distinguished orator resumed its course. "my friends," said he, "i think that this question is now solved. if i have not convinced you all it is because i have been timid in my demonstrations, feeble in my arguments, and you must set it down to my theoretic ignorance. however that may be, i repeat, the distance from the earth to her satellite is really very unimportant and unworthy to occupy a serious mind. i do not think i am advancing too much in saying that soon a service of trains will be established by projectiles, in which the journey from the earth to the moon will be comfortably accomplished. there will be no shocks nor running off the lines to fear, and the goal will be reached rapidly, without fatigue, in a straight line, 'as the crow flies.' before twenty years are over, half the earth will have visited the moon!" "three cheers for michel ardan!" cried the assistants, even those least convinced. "three cheers for barbicane!" modestly answered the orator. this act of gratitude towards the promoter of the enterprise was greeted with unanimous applause. "now, my friends," resumed michel ardan, "if you have any questions to ask me you will evidently embarrass me, but still i will endeavour to answer you." until now the president of the gun club had reason to be very satisfied with the discussion. it had rolled upon speculative theories, upon which michel ardan, carried away by his lively imagination, had shown himself very brilliant. he must, therefore, be prevented from deviating towards practical questions, which he would doubtless not come out of so well. barbicane made haste to speak, and asked his new friend if he thought that the moon or the planets were inhabited. "that is a great problem, my worthy president," answered the orator, smiling; "still, if i am not mistaken, men of great intelligence--plutarch, swedenborg, bernardin de saint-pierre, and many others--answered in the affirmative. if i answered from a natural philosophy point of view i should do the same--i should say to myself that nothing useless exists in this world, and, answering your question by another, friend barbicane, i should affirm that if the planets are inhabitable, either they are inhabited, they have been, or they will be." "very well," cried the first ranks of spectators, whose opinion had the force of law for the others. "it is impossible to answer with more logic and justice," said the president of the gun club. "the question, therefore, comes to this: 'are the planets inhabitable?' i think so, for my part." "and i--i am certain of it," answered michel ardan. "still," replied one of the assistants, "there are arguments against the inhabitability of the worlds. in most of them it is evident that the principles of life must be modified. thus, only to speak of the planets, the people must be burnt up in some and frozen in others according as they are a long or short distance from the sun." "i regret," answered michel ardan, "not to know my honourable opponent personally. his objection has its value, but i think it may be combated with some success, like all those of which the habitability of worlds has been the object. if i were a physician i should say that if there were less caloric put in motion in the planets nearest to the sun, and more, on the contrary, in the distant planets, this simple phenomenon would suffice to equalise the heat and render the temperature of these worlds bearable to beings organised like we are. if i were a naturalist i should tell him, after many illustrious _savants_, that nature furnishes us on earth with examples of animals living in very different conditions of habitability; that fish breathe in a medium mortal to the other animals; that amphibians have a double existence difficult to explain; that certain inhabitants of the sea live in the greatest depths, and support there, without being crushed, pressures of fifty or sixty atmospheres; that some aquatic insects, insensible to the temperature, are met with at the same time in springs of boiling water and in the frozen plains of the polar ocean--in short, there are in nature many means of action, often incomprehensible, but no less real. if i were a chemist i should say that aërolites--bodies evidently formed away from our terrestrial globe--have when analysed, revealed indisputable traces of carbon, a substance that owes its origin solely to organised beings, and which, according to reichenbach's experiments, must necessarily have been 'animalised.' lastly, if i were a theologian i should say that divine redemption, according to st. paul, seems applicable not only to the earth but to all the celestial bodies. but i am neither a theologian, chemist, naturalist, nor natural philosopher. so, in my perfect ignorance of the great laws that rule the universe, i can only answer, 'i do not know if the heavenly bodies are inhabited, and, as i do not know, i am going to see!'" did the adversary of michel ardan's theories hazard any further arguments? it is impossible to say, for the frantic cries of the crowd would have prevented any opinion from being promulgated. when silence was again restored, even in the most distant groups, the triumphant orator contented himself with adding the following considerations:-"you will think, gentlemen, that i have hardly touched upon this grave question. i am not here to give you an instructive lecture upon this vast subject. there is another series of arguments in favour of the heavenly bodies being inhabited; i do not look upon that. allow me only to insist upon one point. to the people who maintain that the planets are not inhabited you must answer, 'you may be right if it is demonstrated that the earth is the best of possible worlds; but it is not so, notwithstanding voltaire.' it has only one satellite, whilst jupiter, uranus, saturn, and neptune have several at their service, an advantage that is not to be disdained. but that which now renders the earth an uncomfortable place of abode is the inclination of its axis upon its orbit. hence the inequality of day and night; hence the unfortunate diversity of seasons. upon our miserable spheroid it is always either too warm or too cold; we are frozen in winter and roasted in summer; it is the planet of colds, rheumatism, and consumption, whilst on the surface of jupiter, for instance, where the axis has only a very slight inclination, the inhabitants can enjoy invariable temperature. there is the perpetual spring, summer, autumn, and winter zone; each 'jovian' may choose the climate that suits him, and may shelter himself all his life from the variations of the temperature. you will doubtless agree to this superiority of jupiter over our planet without speaking of its years, which each lasts twelve years! what is more, it is evident to me that, under these auspices, and under such marvellous conditions of existence, the inhabitants of that fortunate world are superior beings--that _savants_ are more learned, artists more artistic, the wicked less wicked, and the good are better. alas! what is wanting to our spheroid to reach this perfection is very little!--an axis of rotation less inclined on the plane of its orbit." "well!" cried an impetuous voice, "let us unite our efforts, invent machines, and rectify the earth's axis!" thunders of applause greeted this proposition, the author of which could be no other than j.t. maston. it is probable that the fiery secretary had been carried away by his instincts as engineer to venture such a proposition; but it must be said, for it is the truth, many encouraged him with their cries, and doubtless, if they had found the resting-point demanded by archimedes, the americans would have constructed a lever capable of raising the world and redressing its axis. but this point was wanting to these bold mechanicians. nevertheless, this eminently practical idea had enormous success: the discussion was suspended for a good quarter of an hour, and long, very long afterwards, they talked in the united states of america of the proposition so energetically enunciated by the perpetual secretary of the gun club. chapter xx. thrust and parry. this incident seemed to have terminated the discussion, but when the agitation had subsided these words were heard uttered in a loud and severe voice:-"now that the orator has allowed his fancy to roam, perhaps he would kindly go back to his subject, pay less attention to theories, and discuss the practical part of his expedition." all eyes were turned towards the person who spoke thus. he was a thin, dry-looking man, with an energetic face and an american beard. by taking advantage of the agitation in the assembly from time to time he had gained, by degrees, the front row of spectators. there, with his arms crossed, his eyes brilliant and bold, he stared imperturbably at the hero of the meeting. after having asked his question he kept silence, and did not seem disturbed by the thousands of eyes directed towards him nor by the disapproving murmur excited by his words. the answer being delayed he again put the question with the same clear and precise accent; then he added-"we are here to discuss the moon, not the earth." "you are right, sir," answered michel ardan, "the discussion has wandered from the point; we will return to the moon." "sir," resumed the unknown man, "you pretend that our satellite is inhabited. so far so good; but if selenites do exist they certainly live without breathing, for--i tell you the fact for your good--there is not the least particle of air on the surface of the moon." at this affirmation ardan shook his red mane; he understood that a struggle was coming with this man on the real question. he looked at him fixedly in his turn, and said-"ah! there is no air in the moon! and who says so, pray?" "the _savants_." "indeed?" "indeed." "sir," resumed michel, "joking apart, i have a profound respect for _savants_ who know, but a profound contempt for _savants_ who do not know." "do you know any who belong to the latter category?" "yes; in france there is one who maintains that, 'mathematically,' a bird cannot fly, and another who demonstrates that a fish is not made to live in water." "there is no question of those two, sir, and i can quote in support of my proposition names that you will not object to." "then, sir, you would greatly embarrass a poor ignorant man like me!" "then why do you meddle with scientific questions which you have never studied?" asked the unknown brutally. "why?" answered ardan; "because the man who does not suspect danger is always brave! i know nothing, it is true, but it is precisely my weakness that makes my strength." "your weakness goes as far as madness," exclaimed the unknown in a bad-tempered tone. "so much the better," replied the frenchman, "if my madness takes me to the moon!" barbicane and his colleagues stared at the intruder who had come so boldly to stand in the way of their enterprise. none of them knew him, and the president, not reassured upon the upshot of such a discussion, looked at his new friend with some apprehension. the assembly was attentive and slightly uneasy, for this struggle called attention to the dangers and impossibilities of the expedition. "sir," resumed michel ardan's adversary, "the reasons that prove the absence of all atmosphere round the moon are numerous and indisputable. i may say, even, that, _à priori_ if that atmosphere had ever existed, it must have been drawn away by the earth, but i would rather oppose you with incontestable facts." "oppose, sir," answered michel ardan, with perfect gallantry--oppose as much as you like." "you know," said the unknown, "that when the sun's rays traverse a medium like air they are deviated from a straight line, or, in other words, they are refracted. well, when stars are occulted by the moon their rays, on grazing the edge of her disc, do not show the least deviation nor offer the slightest indication of refraction. it follows, therefore, that the moon can have no atmosphere." every one looked at the frenchman, for, this once admitted, the consequences were rigorous. "in fact," answered michel ardan, "that is your best if not only argument, and a _savant_, perhaps, would be embarrassed to answer it. i can only tell you that this argument has no absolute value because it supposes the angular diameter of the moon to be perfectly determined, which it is not. but let us waive that, and tell me, my dear sir, if you admit the existence of volcanoes on the surface of the moon." "extinct volcanoes, yes; volcanoes in eruption, no." "for the sake of argument let us suppose that these volcanoes have been in eruption for a certain period." "that is certain, but as they can themselves furnish the oxygen necessary for combustion the fact of their eruption does not in the least prove the presence of a lunar atmosphere." "we will pass on, then," answered michel ardan, "and leave this series of argument and arrive at direct observation. but i warn you that i am going to quote names." "very well." "in 1715 the astronomers louville and halley, observing the eclipse of the 3rd of may, remarked certain fulminations of a remarkable nature. these jets of light, rapid and frequent, were attributed by them to storms in the atmosphere of the moon." "in 1715," replied the unknown, "the astronomers louville and halley took for lunar phenomena phenomena purely terrestrial, such as meteoric or other bodies which are generated in our own atmosphere. that was the scientific aspect of these facts, and i go with it." "let us pass on again," answered ardan, without being confused by the reply. "did not herschel, in 1787, observe a great number of luminous points on the surface of the moon?" "certainly; but without explaining the origin of these luminous points. herschel himself did not thereby conclude the necessity of a lunar atmosphere." "well answered," said michel ardan, complimenting his adversary; "i see that you are well up in selenography." "yes, sir; and i may add that the most skilful observers, mm. boeer and moedler, agree that air is absolutely wanting on the moon's surface." a movement took place amongst the audience, who appeared struck by the arguments of this singular personage. "we will pass on again," answered michel ardan, with the greatest calmness, "and arrive now at an important fact. a skilful french astronomer, m. laussedat, whilst observing the eclipse of july 18th, 1860, proved that the horns of the solar 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 fact." "but is this fact authenticated?" "it is absolutely certain." an inverse movement brought back the audience to the side of their favourite hero, whose adversary remained silent. ardan went on speaking without showing any vanity about his last advantage; he said simply-"you see, therefore, my dear sir, that it cannot be positively affirmed that there is no atmosphere on the surface of the moon. this atmosphere is probably not dense, but science now generally admits that it exists." "not upon the mountains," replied the unknown, who would not give in. "no, but in the depths of the valleys, and it is not more than some hundreds of feet deep." "any way you will do well to take your precautions, for the air will be terribly rarefied." "oh, there will always be enough for one man. besides, once delivered up there, i shall do my best to economise it and only to breathe it on great occasions." a formidable burst of laughter saluted the mysterious interlocutor, who looked round the assembly daring it proudly. "then," resumed michel ardan, carelessly, "as we are agreed upon the presence of some atmosphere, we are forced to admit the presence of some water--a consequence i am delighted with, for my part. besides, i have another observation to make. we only know one side of the moon's disc, and if there is little air on that side there may be much on the other." "how so?" "because the moon under the action of terrestrial attraction has assumed the form of an egg, of which we see the small end. hence the consequence due to the calculations of hausen, that its centre of gravity is situated in the other hemisphere. hence this conclusion that all the masses of air and water have been drawn to the other side of our satellite in the first days of the creation." "pure fancies," exclaimed the unknown. "no, pure theories based upon mechanical laws, and it appears difficult to me to refute them. i make appeal to this assembly and put it to the vote to know if life such as it exists upon earth is possible on the surface of the moon?" three hundred thousand hearers applauded this proposition. michel ardan's adversary wished to speak again, but he could not make himself heard. cries and threats were hailed upon him. "enough, enough!" said some. "turn him out!" repeated others. but he, holding on to the platform, did not move, and let the storm pass by. it might have assumed formidable proportions if michel ardan had not appeased it by a gesture. he was too chivalrous to abandon his contradicter in such an extremity. "you wish to add a few words?" he asked, in the most gracious tone. "yes, a hundred! a thousand!" answered the unknown, carried away, "or rather no, one only! to persevere in your enterprise you must be--" "imprudent! how can you call me that when i have asked for a cylindro-conical bullet from my friend barbicane so as not to turn round on the road like a squirrel?" "but, unfortunate man! the fearful shock will smash you to pieces when you start." "you have there put your finger upon the real and only difficulty; but i have too good an opinion of the industrial genius of the americans to believe that they will not overcome that difficulty." "but the heat developed by the speed of the projectile whilst crossing the beds of air?" "oh, its sides are thick, and i shall so soon pass the atmosphere." "but provisions? water?" "i have calculated that i could carry enough for one year, and i shall only be four days going." "but air to breathe on the road?" "i shall make some by chemical processes." "but your fall upon the moon, supposing you ever get there?" "it will be six times less rapid than a fall upon the earth, as attraction is six times less on the surface of the moon." "but it still will be sufficient to smash you like glass." "what will prevent me delaying my fall by means of rockets conveniently placed and lighted at the proper time?" "but lastly, supposing that all difficulties be solved, all obstacles cleared away by uniting every chance in your favour, admitting that you reach the moon safe and well, how shall you come back?" "i shall not come back." upon this answer, which was almost sublime by reason of its simplicity, the assembly remained silent. but its silence was more eloquent than its cries of enthusiasm would have been. the unknown profited by it to protest one last time. "you will infallibly kill yourself," he cried, "and your death, which will be only a madman's death, will not even be useful to science." "go on, most generous of men, for you prophesy in the most agreeable manner." "ah, it is too much!" exclaimed michel ardan's adversary, "and i do not know why i go on with so childish a discussion. go on with your mad enterprise as you like. it is not your fault." "fire away." "no, another must bear the responsibility of your acts." "who is that, pray?" asked michel ardan in an imperious voice. "the fool who has organised this attempt, as impossible as it is ridiculous." the attack was direct. barbicane since the intervention of the unknown had made violent efforts to contain himself and "consume his own smoke," but upon seeing himself so outrageously designated he rose directly and was going to walk towards his adversary, who dared him to his face, when he felt himself suddenly separated from him. the platform was lifted up all at once by a hundred vigorous arms, and the president of the gun club was forced to share the honours of triumph with michel ardan. the platform was heavy, but the bearers came in continuous relays, disputing, struggling, even fighting for the privilege of lending the support of their shoulders to this manifestation. however, the unknown did not take advantage of the tumult to leave the place. he kept in the front row, his arms folded, still staring at president barbicane. the president did not lose sight of him either, and the eyes of these two men met like flaming swords. the cries of the immense crowds kept at their maximum of intensity during this triumphant march. michel ardan allowed himself to be carried with evident pleasure. sometimes the platform pitched and tossed like a ship beaten by the waves. but the two heroes of the meeting were good sailors, and their vessel safely arrived in the port of tampa town. michel ardan happily succeeded in escaping from his vigorous admirers. he fled to the franklin hotel, quickly reached his room, and glided rapidly into bed whilst an army of 100,000 men watched under his windows. in the meanwhile a short, grave, and decisive scene had taken place between the mysterious personage and the president of the gun club. barbicane, liberated at last, went straight to his adversary. "come!" said he in a curt voice. the stranger followed him on to the quay, and they were soon both alone at the entrance to a wharf opening on to jones' fall. there these enemies, still unknown to one another, looked at each other. "who are you?" asked barbicane. "captain nicholl." "i thought so. until now fate has never made you cross my path." "i crossed it of my own accord." "you have insulted me." "publicly." "and you shall give me satisfaction for that insult." "now, this minute." "no. i wish everything between us to be kept secret. there is a wood situated three miles from tampa--skersnaw wood. do you know it?" "yes." "will you enter it to-morrow morning at five o'clock by one side?" "yes, if you will enter it by the other at the same time." "and you will not forget your rifle?" said barbicane. "not more than you will forget yours," answered captain nicholl. after these words had been coldly pronounced the president of the gun club and the captain separated. barbicane returned to his dwelling; but, instead of taking some hours' rest, he passed the night in seeking means to avoid the shock of the projectile, and to solve the difficult problem given by michel ardan at the meeting. chapter xxi. how a frenchman settles an affair. whilst the duel was being discussed between the president and the captain--a terrible and savage duel in which each adversary became a man-hunter--michel ardan was resting after the fatigues of his triumph. resting is evidently not the right expression, for american beds rival in hardness tables of marble or granite. ardan slept badly, turning over and over between the _serviettes_ that served him for sheets, and he was thinking of installing a more comfortable bed in his projectile when a violent noise startled him from his slumbers. thundering blows shook his door. they seemed to be administered with an iron instrument. shouts were heard in this racket, rather too early to be agreeable. "open!" some one cried. "open, for heaven's sake!" there was no reason why ardan should acquiesce in so peremptory a demand. still he rose and opened his door at the moment it was giving way under the efforts of the obstinate visitor. the secretary of the gun club bounded into the room. a bomb would not have entered with less ceremony. "yesterday evening," exclaimed j.t. maston _ex abrupto_, "our president was publicly insulted during the meeting! he has challenged his adversary, who is no other than captain nicholl! they are going to fight this morning in skersnaw wood! i learnt it all from barbicane himself! if he is killed our project will be at an end! this duel must be prevented! now one man only can have enough empire over barbicane to stop it, and that man is michel ardan." whilst j.t. maston was speaking thus, michel ardan, giving up interrupting him, jumped into his vast trousers, and in less than two minutes after the two friends were rushing as fast as they could go towards the suburbs of tampa town. it was during this rapid course that maston told ardan the state of the case. he told him the real causes of the enmity between barbicane and nicholl, how that enmity was of old date, why until then, thanks to mutual friends, the president and the captain had never met; he added that it was solely a rivalry between iron-plate and bullet; and, lastly, that the scene of the meeting had only been an occasion long sought by nicholl to satisfy an old grudge. there is nothing more terrible than these private duels in america, during which the two adversaries seek each other across thickets, and hunt each other like wild animals. it is then that each must envy those marvellous qualities so natural to the indians of the prairies, their rapid intelligence, their ingenious ruse, their scent of the enemy. an error, a hesitation, a wrong step, may cause death. in these meetings the yankees are often accompanied by their dogs, and both sportsmen and game go on for hours. "what demons you are!" exclaimed michel ardan, when his companion had depicted the scene with much energy. "we are what we are," answered j.t. maston modestly; "but let us make haste." in vain did michel ardan and he rush across the plain still wet with dew, jump the creeks, take the shortest cuts; they could not reach skersnaw wood before half-past five. barbicane must have entered it half-an-hour before. there an old bushman was tying up faggots his axe had cut. maston ran to him crying-"have you seen a man enter the wood armed with a rifle? barbicane, the president--my best friend?" the worthy secretary of the gun club thought naïvely that all the world must know his president. but the bushman did not seem to understand. "a sportsman," then said ardan. "a sportsman? yes," answered the bushman. "is it long since?" "about an hour ago." "too late!" exclaimed maston. "have you heard any firing?" asked michel ardan. "no." "not one shot?" "not one. that sportsman does not seem to bag much game!" "what shall we do?" said maston. "enter the wood at the risk of catching a bullet not meant for us." "ah!" exclaimed maston, with an unmistakable accent, "i would rather have ten bullets in my head than one in barbicane's head." "go ahead, then!" said ardan, pressing his companion's hand. a few seconds after the two companions disappeared in a copse. it was a dense thicket made of huge cypresses, sycamores, tulip-trees, olives, tamarinds, oaks, and magnolias. the different trees intermingled their branches in inextricable confusion, and quite hid the view. michel ardan and maston walked on side by side phasing silently through the tall grass, making a road for themselves through the vigorous creepers, looking in all the bushes or branches lost in the sombre shade of the foliage, and expecting to hear a shot at every step. as to the traces that barbicane must have left of his passage through the wood, it was impossible for them to see them, and they marched blindly on in the hardly-formed paths in which an indian would have followed his adversary step by step. after a vain search of about an hour's length the two companions stopped. their anxiety was redoubled. "it must be all over," said maston in despair. "a man like barbicane would not lay traps or condescend to any manoeuvre! he is too frank, too courageous. he has gone straight into danger, and doubtless far enough from the bushman for the wind to carry off the noise of the shot!" "but we should have heard it!" answered michel ardan. "but what if we came too late?" exclaimed j.t. maston in an accent of despair. michel ardan did not find any answer to make. maston and he resumed their interrupted walk. from time to time they shouted; they called either barbicane or nicholl; but neither of the two adversaries answered. joyful flocks of birds, roused by the noise, disappeared amongst the branches, and some frightened deer fled through the copses. they continued their search another hour. the greater part of the wood had been explored. nothing revealed the presence of the combatants. they began to doubt the affirmation of the bushman, and ardan was going to renounce the pursuit as useless, when all at once maston stopped. "hush!" said he. "there is some one yonder!" "some one?" answered michel ardan. "yes! a man! he does not seem to move. his rifle is not in his hand. what can he be doing?" "but do you recognise him?" asked michel ardan. "yes, yes! he is turning round," answered maston. "who is it?" "captain nicholl!" "nicholl!" cried michel ardan, whose heart almost stopped beating. "nicholl disarmed! then he had nothing more to fear from his adversary?" "let us go to him," said michel ardan; "we shall know how it is." but his companion and he had not gone fifty steps when they stopped to examine the captain more attentively. they imagined they should find a bloodthirsty and revengeful man. upon seeing him they remained stupefied. a net with fine meshes was hung between two gigantic tulip-trees, and in it a small bird, with its wings entangled, was struggling with plaintive cries. the bird-catcher who had hung the net was not a human being but a venomous spider, peculiar to the country, as large as a pigeon's egg, and furnished with enormous legs. the hideous insect, as he was rushing on his prey, was forced to turn back and take refuge in the high branches of a tulip-tree, for a formidable enemy threatened him in his turn. in fact, captain nicholl, with his gun on the ground, forgetting the dangers of his situation, was occupied in delivering as delicately as possible the victim taken in the meshes of the monstrous spider. when he had finished he let the little bird fly away; it fluttered its wings joyfully and disappeared. nicholl, touched, was watching it fly through the copse when he heard these words uttered in a voice full of emotion:-"you are a brave man, you are!" he turned. michel ardan was in front of him, repeating in every tone-"and a kind one!" "michel ardan!" exclaimed the captain, "what have you come here for, sir?" "to shake hands with you, nicholl, and prevent you killing barbicane or being killed by him." "barbicane!" cried the captain, "i have been looking for him these two hours without finding him! where is he hiding himself?" "nicholl!" said michel ardan, "this is not polite! you must always respect your adversary; don't be uneasy; if barbicane is alive we shall find him, and so much the more easily that if he has not amused himself with protecting birds he must be looking for you too. but when you have found him--and michel ardan tells you this--there will be no duel between you." "between president barbicane and me," answered nicholl gravely, "there is such rivalry that the death of one of us--" "come, come!" resumed michel ardan, "brave men like you may detest one another, but they respect one another too. you will not fight." "i shall fight, sir." "no you won't." "captain," then said j.t. maston heartily, "i am the president's friend, his _alter ego_; if you must absolutely kill some one kill me; that will be exactly the same thing." "sir," said nicholl, convulsively seizing his rifle, "this joking--" "friend maston is not joking," answered michel ardan, "and i understand his wanting to be killed for the man he loves; but neither he nor barbicane will fall under captain nicholl's bullets, for i have so tempting a proposition to make to the two rivals that they will hasten to accept it." "but what is it, pray?" asked nicholl, with visible incredulity. "patience," answered ardan; "i can only communicate it in barbicane's presence." "let us look for him, then," cried the captain. the three men immediately set out; the captain, having discharged his rifle, threw it on his shoulder and walked on in silence. during another half-hour the search was in vain. maston was seized with a sinister presentiment. he observed captain nicholl closely, asking himself if, once the captain's vengeance satisfied, the unfortunate barbicane had not been left lying in some bloody thicket. michel ardan seemed to have the same thought, and they were both looking questioningly at captain nicholl when maston suddenly stopped. the motionless bust of a man leaning against a gigantic catalpa appeared twenty feet off half hidden in the grass. "it is he!" said maston. barbicane did not move. ardan stared at the captain, but he did not wince. ardan rushed forward, crying-"barbicane! barbicane!" no answer. ardan was about to seize his arm; he stopped short, uttering a cry of surprise. barbicane, with a pencil in his hand, was tracing geometrical figures upon a memorandum-book, whilst his unloaded gun lay on the ground. absorbed in his work, the _savant_, forgetting in his turn his duel and his vengeance, had neither seen nor heard anything. but when michel ardan placed his hand on that of the president, he got up and looked at him with astonishment. "ah!" cried he at last; "you here! i have found it, my friend, i have found it!" "what?" "the way to do it." "the way to do what?" "to counteract the effect of the shock at the departure of the projectile." "really?" said michel, 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 too!" "himself," answered michel ardan; "and allow me to introduce at the same time the worthy captain nicholl." "nicholl!" cried barbicane, up in a moment. "excuse me, captain," said he; "i had forgotten. i am ready." michel ardan interfered before the two enemies had time to recriminate. "faith," said he, "it is fortunate that brave fellows like you did not meet sooner. we should now have to mourn for one or other of you; but, thanks to god, who has prevented it, there is nothing more to fear. when one forgets his hatred to plunge into mechanical problems and the other to play tricks on spiders, their hatred cannot be dangerous to anybody." and michel ardan related the captain's story to the president. "i ask you now," said he as he concluded, "if two good beings like you were made to break each other's heads with gunshots?" there was in this rather ridiculous situation something so unexpected, that barbicane and nicholl did not know how to look at one another. michel ardan felt this, and resolved to try for a reconciliation. "my brave friends," said he, smiling in his most fascinating manner, "it has all been a mistake between you, nothing more. well, to prove that all is ended between you, and as you are men who risk your lives, frankly accept the proposition that i am going to make to you." "speak," said nicholl. "friend barbicane believes that his projectile will go straight to the moon." "yes, certainly," replied the president. "and friend nicholl is persuaded that it will fall back on the earth." "i am certain of it," cried the captain. "good," resumed michel ardan. "i do not pretend to make you agree; all i say to you is, 'come with me, and see if we shall stop on the road.'" "what?" said j.t. maston, stupefied. the two rivals at this sudden proposition had raised their eyes and looked at each other attentively. barbicane waited for captain nicholl's answer; nicholl awaited the president's reply. "well," said michel in his most engaging tone, "as there is now no shock to fear----" "accepted!" cried barbicane. but although this word was uttered very quickly, nicholl had finished it at the same time. "hurrah! bravo!" cried michel ardan, holding out his hands to the two adversaries. "and now that the affair is arranged, my friends, allow me to treat you french fashion. _allons déjeuner_." chapter xxii. the new citizen of the united states. that day all america heard about the duel and its singular termination. the part played by the chivalrous european, his unexpected proposition which solved the difficulty, the simultaneous acceptation of the two rivals, that conquest of the lunar continent to which france and the united states were going to march in concert--everything tended to increase michel ardan's popularity. it is well known how enthusiastic the yankees will get about an individual. in a country where grave magistrates harness themselves to a dancer's carriage and draw it in triumph, it may be judged how the bold frenchman was treated. if they did not take out his horses it was probably because he had none, but all other marks of enthusiasm were showered upon him. there was no citizen who did not join him heart and mind:--_ex pluribus unam_, according to the motto of the united states. from that day michel ardan had not a minute's rest. deputations from all parts of the union worried him incessantly. he was forced to receive them whether he would or no. the hands he shook could not be counted; he was soon completely worn out, his voice became hoarse in consequence of his innumerable speeches, and only escaped from his lips in unintelligible sounds, and he nearly caught a gastro-enterite after the toasts he proposed to the union. this success would have intoxicated another man from the first, but he managed to stay in a _spirituelle_ and charming demi-inebriety. amongst the deputations of every sort that assailed him, that of the "lunatics" did not forget what they owed to the future conqueror of the moon. one day some of these poor creatures, numerous enough in america, went to him and asked to return with him to their native country. some of them pretended to speak "selenite," and wished to teach it to michel ardan, who willingly lent himself to their innocent mania, and promised to take their messages to their friends in the moon. "singular folly!" said he to barbicane, after having dismissed them; "and a folly that often takes possession of men of great intelligence. one of our most illustrious _savants_, arago, told me that many very wise and reserved people in their conceptions became much excited and gave way to incredible singularities every time the moon occupied them. do you believe in the influence of the moon upon maladies?" "very little," answered the president of the gun club. "i do not either, and yet history has preserved some facts that, to say the least, are astonishing. thus in 1693, during an epidemic, people perished in the greatest numbers on the 21st of january, during an eclipse. the celebrated bacon fainted during the moon eclipses, and only came to himself after its entire emersion. king charles vi. relapsed six times into madness during the year 1399, either at the new or full moon. physicians have ranked epilepsy amongst the maladies that follow the phases of the moon. nervous maladies have often appeared to be influenced by it. mead speaks of a child who had convulsions when the moon was in opposition. gall remarked that insane persons underwent an accession of their disorder twice in every month, at the epochs of the new and full moon. lastly, a thousand observations of this sort made upon malignant fevers and somnambulism tend to prove that the queen of night has a mysterious influence upon terrestrial maladies." "but how? why?" asked barbicane. "why?" answered ardan. "why, the only thing i can tell you is what arago repeated nineteen centuries after plutarch. perhaps it is because it is not true." in the height of his triumph michel ardan could not escape any of the annoyances incidental to a celebrated man. managers of entertainments wished to exhibit him. barnum offered him a million dollars to show him as a curious animal in the different towns of the united states. still, though he refused to satisfy public curiosity in that way, his portraits went all over the world, and occupied the place of honour in albums; proofs were made of all sizes from life size to medallions. every one could possess the hero in all positions--head, bust, standing, full-face, profile, three-quarters, back. fifteen hundred thousand copies were taken, and it would have been a fine occasion to get money by relics, but he did not profit by it. if he had sold his hairs for a dollar apiece there would have remained enough to make his fortune! to tell the truth, this popularity did not displease him. on the contrary, he put himself at the disposition of the public, and corresponded with the entire universe. they repeated his witticisms, especially those he did not perpetrate. not only had he all the men for him, but the women too. what an infinite number of good marriages he might have made if he had taken a fancy to "settle!" old maids especially dreamt before his portraits day and night. it is certain that he would have found female companions by hundreds, even if he had imposed the condition of following him up into the air. women are intrepid when they are not afraid of everything. but he had no intention of transplanting a race of franco-americans upon the lunar continent, so he refused. "i do not mean," said he, "to play the part of adam with a daughter of eve up there. i might meet with serpents!" as soon as he could withdraw from the joys of triumph, too often repeated, he went with his friends to pay a visit to the columbiad. he owed it that. besides, he was getting very learned in ballistics since he had lived with barbicane, j.t. maston, and _tutti quanti_. his greatest pleasure consisted in repeating to these brave artillerymen that they were only amiable and learned murderers. he was always joking about it. the day he visited the columbiad he greatly admired it, and went down to the bore of the gigantic mortar that was soon to hurl him towards the queen of night. "at least," said he, "that cannon will not hurt anybody, which is already very astonishing on the part of a cannon. but as to your engines that destroy, burn, smash, and kill, don't talk to me about them!" it is necessary to report here a proposition made by j.t. maston. when the secretary of the gun club heard barbicane and nicholl accept michel ardan's proposition he resolved to join them, and make a party of four. one day he asked to go. barbicane, grieved at having to refuse, made him understand that the projectile could not carry so many passengers. j.t. maston, in despair, went to michel ardan, who advised him to be resigned, adding one or two arguments _ad hominem_. "you see, old fellow," he said to him, "you must not be offended, but really, between ourselves, you are too incomplete to present yourself in the moon." "incomplete!" cried the valiant cripple. "yes, my brave friend. suppose we should meet with inhabitants up there. do you want to give them a sorry idea of what goes on here, teach them what war is, show them that we employ the best part of our time in devouring each other and breaking arms and limbs, and that upon a globe that could feed a hundred thousand millions of inhabitants, and where there are hardly twelve hundred millions? why, my worthy friend, you would have us shown to the door!" "but if you arrive smashed to pieces," replied j.t. maston, "you will be as incomplete as i." "certainly," answered michel ardan, "but we shall not arrive in pieces." in fact, a preparatory experiment, tried on the 18th of october, had been attended with the best results, and given rise to the most legitimate hopes. barbicane, wishing to know the effect of the shock at the moment of the projectile's departure, sent for a 32-inch mortar from pensacola arsenal. it was installed upon the quay of hillisboro harbour, in order that the bomb might fall into the sea, and the shock of its fall be deadened. he only wished to experiment upon the shock of its departure, not that of its arrival. a hollow projectile was prepared with the greatest care for this curious experiment. a thick wadding put upon a network of springs made of the best steel lined it inside. it was quite a wadded nest. "what a pity one can't go in it!" said j.t. maston, regretting that his size did not allow him to make the venture. into this charming bomb, which was closed by means of a lid, screwed down, they put first a large cat, then a squirrel belonging to the perpetual secretary of the gun club, which j.t. maston was very fond of. but they wished to know how this little animal, not likely to be giddy, would support this experimental journey. the mortar was loaded with 160 lbs. of powder and the bomb. it was then fired. the projectile immediately rose with rapidity, described a majestic parabola, attained a height of about a thousand feet, and then with a graceful curve fell into the waves. without losing an instant, a vessel was sent to the spot where it fell; skilful divers sank under water and fastened cable-chains to the handles of the bomb, which was rapidly hoisted on board. five minutes had not elapsed between the time the animals were shut up and the unscrewing of their prison lid. ardan, barbicane, maston, and nicholl were upon the vessel, and they assisted at the operation with a sentiment of interest easy to understand. the bomb was hardly opened before the cat sprang out, rather bruised but quite lively, and not looking as if it had just returned from an aërial expedition. but nothing, was seen of the squirrel. the truth was then discovered. the cat had eaten its travelling companion. j.t. maston was very grieved at the loss of his poor squirrel, and proposed to inscribe it in the martyrology of science. however that may be, after this experiment all hesitation and fear were at an end; besides, barbicane's plans were destined further to perfect the projectile, and destroy almost entirely the effect of the shock. there was nothing more to do but to start. two days later michel ardan received a message from the president of the union, an honour which he much appreciated. after the example of his chivalrous countryman, la fayette, the government had bestowed upon him the title of "citizen of the united states of america." chapter xxiii. the projectile compartment. after the celebrated columbiad was completed public interest immediately centred upon the projectile, the new vehicle destined to transport the three bold adventurers across space. no one had forgotten that in his despatch of september 30th michel ardan asked for a modification of the plans laid out by the members of the committee. president barbicane then thought with reason that the form of the projectile was of slight importance, for, after crossing the atmosphere in a few seconds, it would meet with vacuum. the committee had therefore chosen the round form, so that the ball might turn over and over and do as it liked. but as soon as it had to be made into a vehicle, that was another thing. michel ardan did not want to travel squirrel-fashion; he wished to go up head up and feet down with as much dignity as in the car of a balloon, quicker of course, but without unseemly gambols. new plans were, therefore, sent to the firm of breadwill and co., of albany, with the recommendation to execute them without delay. the projectile, thus modified, was cast on the 2nd of november, and sent immediately to stony hill by the eastern railway. on the 10th it arrived without accident at its place of destination. michel ardan, barbicane, and nicholl awaited with the most lively impatience this "projectile compartment" in which they were to take their passage for the discovery of a new world. it must be acknowledged that it was a magnificent piece of metal, a metallurgic production that did the greatest honour to the industrial genius of the americans. it was the first time that aluminium had been obtained in so large a mass, which result might be justly regarded as prodigious. this precious projectile sparkled in the rays of the sun. seeing it in its imposing shape with its conical top, it might easily have been taken for one of those extinguisher-shaped towers that architects of the middle ages put at the angles of their castles. it only wanted loopholes and a weathercock. "i expect," exclaimed michel ardan, "to see a man armed _cap-à-pie_ come out of it. we shall be like feudal lords in there; with a little artillery we could hold our own against a whole army of selenites--that is, if there are any in the moon!" "then the vehicle pleases you?" asked barbicane. "yes, yes! certainly," answered michel ardan, who was examining it as an artist. "i only regret that its form is not a little more slender, its cone more graceful; it ought to be terminated by a metal group, some gothic ornament, a salamander escaping from it with outspread wings and open beak." "what would be the use?" said barbicane, whose positive mind was little sensitive to the beauties of art. "ah, friend barbicane, i am afraid you will never understand the use, or you would not ask!" "well, tell me, at all events, my brave companion." "well, my friend, i think we ought always to put a little art in all we do. do you know an indian play called _the child's chariot_?" "not even by name," answered barbicane. "i am not surprised at that," continued michel ardan. "learn, then, that in that play there is a robber who, when in the act of piercing the wall of a house, stops to consider whether he shall make his hole in the shape of a lyre, a flower, or a bird. well, tell me, friend barbicane, if at that epoch you had been his judge would you have condemned that robber?" "without hesitation," answered the president of the gun club, "and as a burglar too." "well, i should have acquitted him, friend barbicane. that is why you could never understand me." "i will not even try, my valiant artist." "but, at least," continued michel ardan, "as the exterior of our projectile compartment leaves much to be desired, i shall be allowed to furnish the inside as i choose, and with all luxury suitable to ambassadors from the earth." "about that, my brave michel," answered barbicane, "you can do entirely as you please." but before passing to the agreeable the president of the gun club had thought of the useful, and the means he had invented for lessening the effects of the shock were applied with perfect intelligence. barbicane had said to himself, not unreasonably, that no spring would be sufficiently powerful to deaden the shock, and during his famous promenade in skersnaw wood he had ended by solving this great difficulty in an ingenious fashion. he depended upon water to render him this signal service. this is how:-the projectile was to be filled to the depth of three feet with water destined to support a water-tight wooden disc, which easily worked within the walls of the projectile. it was upon this raft that the travellers were to take their place. as to the liquid mass, it was divided by horizontal partitions which the departing shock would successively break; then each sheet of water, from the lowest to the highest, escaping by valves in the upper part of the projectile, thus making a spring, and the disc, itself furnished with extremely powerful buffers, could not strike the bottom until it had successively broken the different partitions. the travellers would doubtless feel a violent recoil after the complete escape of the liquid mass, but the first shock would be almost entirely deadened by so powerful a spring. it is true that three feet on a surface of 541 square feet would weigh nearly 11,500 lbs; but the escape of gas accumulated in the columbiad would suffice, barbicane thought to conquer that increase of weight; besides, the shock would send out all that water in less than a second, and the projectile would soon regain its normal weight. this is what the president of the gun club had imagined, and how he thought he had solved the great question of the recoil. this work, intelligently comprehended by the engineers of the breadwill firm, was marvellously executed; the effect once produced and the water gone, the travellers could easily get rid of the broken partitions and take away the mobile disc that bore them at the moment of departure. as to the upper sides of the projectile, they were lined with a thick wadding of leather, put upon the best steel springs as supple as watch-springs. the escape-pipes hidden under this wadding were not even seen. all imaginable precautions for deadening the first shock having been taken, michel ardan said they must be made of "very bad stuff" to be crushed. the projectile outside was nine feet wide and twelve feet high. in order not to pass the weight assigned the sides had been made a little less thick and the bottom thicker, as it would have to support all the violence of the gases developed by the deflagration of the pyroxyle. bombs and cylindro-conical howitzers are always made with thicker bottoms. the entrance to this tower of metal was a narrow opening in the wall of the cone, like the "man-hole" of steam boilers. it closed hermetically by means of an aluminium plate fastened inside by powerful screw pressure. the travellers could therefore leave their mobile prison at will as soon as they had reached the queen of night. but going was not everything; it was necessary to see on the road. nothing was easier. in fact, under the wadding were four thick lenticular footlights, two let into the circular wall of the projectile, the third in its lower part, and the fourth in its cone. the travellers could, therefore, observe during their journey the earth they were leaving, the moon they were approaching, and the constellated spaces of the sky. these skylights were protected against the shocks of departure by plates let into solid grooves, which it was easy to move by unscrewing them. by that means the air contained in the projectile could not escape, and it was possible to make observations. all these mechanical appliances, admirably set, worked with the greatest ease, and the engineers had not shown themselves less intelligent in the arrangement of the projectile compartment. lockers solidly fastened were destined to contain the water and provisions necessary for the three travellers; they could even procure themselves fire and light by means of gas stored up in a special case under a pressure of several atmospheres. all they had to do was to turn a tap, and the gas would light and warm this comfortable vehicle for six days. it will be seen that none of the things essential to life, or even to comfort, were wanting. more, thanks to the instincts of michel ardan, the agreeable was joined to the useful under the form of objects of art; he would have made a veritable artist's studio of his projectile if room had not been wanting. it would be mistaken to suppose that three persons would be restricted for space in that metal tower. it had a surface of 54 square feet, and was nearly 10 feet high, and allowed its occupiers a certain liberty of movement. they would not have been so much at their ease in the most comfortable railway compartment of the united states. the question of provisions and lighting having been solved, there remained the question of air. it was evident that the air confined in the projectile would not be sufficient for the travellers' respiration for four days; each man, in fact, consumes in one hour all the oxygen contained in 100 litres of air. barbicane, his two companions, and two dogs that he meant to take, would consume every twenty-four hours 2,400 litres of oxygen, or a weight equal to 7 lbs. the air in the projectile must, therefore, be renewed. how? by a very simple method, that of messrs. reiset and regnault, indicated by michel ardan during the discussion of the meeting. it is known that the air is composed principally of twenty-one parts of oxygen and seventy-nine parts of azote. now what happens in the act of respiration? a very simple phenomenon, man absorbs the oxygen of the air, eminently adapted for sustaining life, and throws out the azote intact. the air breathed out has lost nearly five per cent, of its oxygen, and then contains a nearly equal volume of carbonic acid, the definitive product of the combustion of the elements of the blood by the oxygen breathed in it. it happens, therefore, that in a confined space and after a certain time all the oxygen of the air is replaced by carbonic acid, an essentially deleterious gas. the question was then reduced to this, the azote being conserved intact--1. to remake the oxygen absorbed; 2. to destroy the carbonic acid breathed out. nothing easier to do by means of chlorate of potash and caustic potash. the former is a salt which appears under the form of white crystals; when heated to a temperature of 400° it is transformed into chlorine of potassium, and the oxygen which it contains is given off freely. now 18 lbs. of chlorate of potash give 7 lbs of oxygen--that is to say, the quantity necessary to the travellers for twenty-four hours. as to caustic potash, it has a great affinity for carbonic acid mixed in air, and it is sufficient to shake it in order for it to seize upon the acid and form bicarbonate of potash. so much for the absorption of carbonic acid. by combining these two methods they were certain of giving back to vitiated air all its life-giving qualities. the two chemists, messrs. reiset and regnault, had made the experiment with success. but it must be said the experiment had only been made _in anima vili_. whatever its scientific accuracy might be, no one knew how man could bear it. such was the observation made at the meeting where this grave question was discussed. michel ardan meant to leave no doubt about the possibility of living by means of this artificial air, and he offered to make the trial before the departure. but the honour of putting it to the proof was energetically claimed by j.t. maston. "as i am not going with you," said the brave artilleryman, "the least i can do will be to live in the projectile for a week." it would have been ungracious to refuse him. his wish was complied with. a sufficient quantity of chlorate of potash and caustic potash was placed at his disposition, with provisions for a week; then having shaken hands with his friends, on the 12th of november at 6 a.m., after having expressly recommended them not to open his prison before the 20th at 6 p.m., he crept into the projectile, the iron plate of which was hermetically shut. what happened during that week? it was impossible to ascertain. the thickness of the projectile's walls prevented any interior noise from reaching the outside. on the 20th of november, at six o'clock precisely, the plate was removed; the friends of j.t. maston were rather uneasy. but they were promptly reassured by hearing a joyful voice shouting a formidable hurrah! the secretary of the gun club appeared on the summit of the cone in a triumphant attitude. he had grown fat! chapter xxiv. the telescope of the rocky mountains. on the 20th of october of the preceding year, after the subscription list was closed, the president of the gun club had credited the cambridge observatory with the sums necessary for the construction of a vast optical instrument. this telescope was to be powerful enough to render visible on the surface of the moon an object being at least nine feet wide. there is an important difference between a field-glass and a telescope, which it is well to recall here. a field-glass is composed of a tube which carries at its upper extremity a convex glass called an object-glass, and at its lower extremity a second glass called ocular, to which the eye of the observer is applied. the rays from the luminous object traverse the first glass, and by refraction form an image upside down at its focus. this image is looked at with the ocular, which magnifies it. the tube of the field-glass is, therefore, closed at each extremity by the object and the ocular glasses. the telescope, on the contrary, is open at its upper extremity. the rays from the object observed penetrate freely into it, and strike a concave metallic mirror--that is to say, they are focussed. from thence their reflected rays meet with a little mirror, which sends them back to the ocular in such a way as to magnify the image produced. thus in field-glasses refraction plays the principal part, and reflection does in the telescope. hence the name of refractors given to the former, and reflectors given to the latter. all the difficulty in the execution of these optical instruments lies in the making of the object-glass, whether they be made of glass or metallic mirrors. still at the epoch when the gun club made its great experiment these instruments were singularly perfected and gave magnificent results. the time was far distant when galileo observed the stars with his poor glass, which magnified seven times at the most. since the 16th century optical instruments had widened and lengthened in considerable proportions, and they allowed the stellar spaces to be gauged to a depth unknown before. amongst the refracting instruments at work at that period were the glass of the poulkowa observatory in russia, the object-glass of which measured 15 inches in width, that of the french optician lerebours, furnished with an object-glass equally large, and lastly that of the cambridge observatory, furnished with an object-glass 19 inches in diameter. amongst telescopes, two were known of remarkable power and gigantic dimensions. the first, constructed by herschel, was 36 feet in length, and had an object-glass of 4 feet 6 inches; it magnified 6,000 times; the second, raised in ireland, at birrcastle, in parsonstown park, belonged to lord rosse; the length of its tube was 48 feet and the width of its mirror 6 feet; it magnified 6,400 times, and it had required an immense erection of masonry on which to place the apparatus necessary for working the instrument, which weighed 12-1/2 tons. but it will be seen that notwithstanding these colossal dimensions the magnifying power obtained did not exceed 6,000 times in round numbers; now that power would only bring the moon within 39 miles, and would only allow objects 60 feet in diameter to be perceived unless these objects were very elongated. now in space they had to deal with a projectile 9 feet wide and 15 long, so the moon had to be brought within five miles at least, and for that a magnifying power of 48,000 times was necessary. such was the problem propounded to the cambridge observatory. they were not to be stopped by financial difficulties, so there only remained material difficulties. first of all they had to choose between telescopes and field-glasses. the latter had some advantages. with equal object-glasses they have a greater magnifying power, because the luminous rays that traverse the glasses lose less by absorption than the reflection on the metallic mirror of telescopes; but the thickness that can be given to glass is limited, for too thick it does not allow the luminous rays to pass. besides, the construction of these vast glasses is excessively difficult, and demands a considerable time, measured by years. therefore, although images are better given by glasses, an inappreciable advantage when the question is to observe the moon, the light of which is simply reflected they decided to employ the telescope, which is prompter in execution and is capable of a greater magnifying power; only as the luminous rays lose much of their intensity by traversing the atmosphere, the gun club resolved to set up the instrument on one of the highest mountains of the union, which would diminish the depth of the aërial strata. in telescopes it has been seen that the glass placed at the observer's eye produces the magnifying power, and the object-glass which bears this power the best is the one that has the largest diameter and the greatest focal distance. in order to magnify 48,000 times it must be much larger than those of herschel and lord rosse. there lay the difficulty, for the casting of these mirrors is a very delicate operation. happily, some years before a _savant_ of the _institut de france_, léon foucault, had just invented means by which the polishing of object-glasses became very prompt and easy by replacing the metallic mirror by taking a piece of glass the size required and plating it. it was to be fixed according to the method invented by herschel for telescopes. in the great instrument of the astronomer at slough, the image of objects reflected by the mirror inclined at the bottom of the tube was formed at the other extremity where the eyeglass was placed. thus the observer, instead of being placed at the lower end of the tube, was hoisted to the upper end, and there with his eyeglass he looked down into the enormous cylinder. this combination had the advantage of doing away with the little mirror destined to send back the image to the ocular glass, which thus only reflected once instead of twice; therefore there were fewer luminous rays extinguished, the image was less feeble, and more light was obtained, a precious advantage in the observation that was to be made. this being resolved upon, the work was begun. according to the calculations of the cambridge observatory staff, the tube of the new reflector was to be 280 feet long and its mirror 16 feet in diameter. although it was so colossal it was not comparable to the telescope 10,000 feet long which the astronomer hooke proposed to construct some years ago. nevertheless the setting up of such an apparatus presented great difficulties. the question of its site was promptly settled. it must be upon a high mountain, and high mountains are not numerous in the states. in fact, the orographical system of this great country only contains two chains of average height, amongst which flows the magnificent mississippi, which the americans would call the "king of rivers" if they admitted any royalty whatever. on the east rise the apalachians, the very highest point of which, in new hampshire, does not exceed the very moderate altitude of 5,600 feet. on the west are, however, the rocky mountains, that immense chain which begins at the straits of magellan, follows the west coast of south america under the name of the andes or cordilleras, crosses the isthmus of panama, and runs up the whole of north america to the very shores of the polar sea. these mountains are not very high, and the alps or himalayas would look down upon them with disdain. in fact, their highest summit is only 10,701 feet high, whilst mont blanc is 14,439, and the highest summit of the himalayas is 26,776 feet above the level of the sea. but as the gun club wished that its telescope, as well as the columbiad, should be set up in the states of the union, they were obliged to be content with the rocky mountains, and all the necessary material was sent to the summit of long's peak in the territory of missouri. neither pen nor language could relate the difficulties of every kind that the american engineers had to overcome, and the prodigies of audacity and skill that they accomplished. enormous stones, massive pieces of wrought-iron, heavy corner-clamps, and huge portions of cylinder had to be raised with an object-glass, weighing nearly 30,000 lbs., 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 centres of population, and in the midst of savage regions in which every detail of life becomes an insoluble problem, and, nevertheless, american genius triumphed over all these obstacles. less than a year after beginning the works in the last days of the month of september, the gigantic reflector rose in the air to a height of 280 feet. it was hung from an enormous iron scaffolding; an ingenious arrangement allowed it to be easily moved towards every point of the sky, and to follow the stars from one horizon to the other during their journey across space. it had cost more than 400,000 dollars. the first time it was pointed at the moon the observers felt both curious and uneasy. what would they discover in the field of this telescope which magnified objects 48,000 times? populations, flocks of lunar animals, towns, lakes, and oceans? no, nothing that science was not already acquainted with, and upon all points of her disc the volcanic nature of the moon could be determined with absolute precision. but the telescope of the rocky mountains, before being used by the gun club, rendered immense services to astronomy. thanks to its power of penetration, the depths of the sky were explored to their utmost limits, the apparent diameter of a great number of stars could be rigorously measured, and mr. clarke, of the cambridge staff, resolved the crab nebula in taurus, which lord rosse's reflector had never been able to do. chapter xxv. final details. it was the 22nd of november. the supreme departure was to take place ten days later. one operation still remained to bring it to a happy termination, a delicate and perilous operation exacting 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 gun and the introduction into it of 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton. nicholl had thought, not without reason, perhaps, that the handling of so large a quantity of pyroxyle would cause grave catastrophes, and that in any case this eminently explosive mass would ignite of itself under the pressure of the projectile. there were also grave dangers increased by the carelessness of the americans, who, during the federal war, used to load their cannon cigar in mouth. but barbicane had set his heart on succeeding, and did not mean to founder in port; he therefore chose his best workmen, made them work under his superintendence, and by dint of prudence and precautions he managed to put all the chances of success on his side. first he took care not to bring all his charge at once to the inclosure of stony hill. he had it brought little by little carefully packed in sealed cases. the 400,000 lbs. of pyroxyle had been divided into packets of 500 lbs., which made 800 large cartridges made carefully by the cleverest artisans of pensacola. each case contained ten, and they arrived one after the other by the railroad of tampa town; by that means there were never more than 500 lbs. of pyroxyle at once in the inclosure. as soon as it arrived each case was unloaded by workmen walking barefoot, and each cartridge transported to the orifice of the columbiad, into which they lowered them by means of cranes worked by the men. every steam-engine had been excluded, and the least fires extinguished for two miles round. even in november it was necessary to preserve this gun-cotton from the ardour of the sun. so they worked at night by light produced in a vacuum by means of rühmkorff's apparatus, which threw an artificial brightness into the depths of the columbiad. there the cartridges were arranged with the utmost regularity, fastened together by a wire destined to communicate the electric spark to them all simultaneously. in fact, it was by means of electricity that fire was to be set to this mass of gun-cotton. all these single wires, surrounded by isolating material, were rolled into a single one at a narrow hole pierced at the height the projectile was to be placed; there they crossed the thick metal wall and came up to the surface by one of the vent-holes in the masonry made on purpose. once arrived at the summit of stony hill, the wire supported on poles for a distance of two miles met a powerful pile of bunsen passing through a non-conducting apparatus. it would, therefore, be enough to press with the finger the knob of the apparatus for the electric current to be at once established, and to set fire to the 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton. it is hardly necessary to say that this was only to be done at the last moment. on the 28th of november the 800 cartridges were placed at the bottom of the columbiad. that part of the operation had succeeded. but what worry, anxiety, and struggles president barbicane had to undergo! in vain had he forbidden entrance to stony hill; every day curious sightseers climbed over the palisading, and some, pushing imprudence to folly, came and smoked amongst the bales of gun-cotton. barbicane put himself into daily rages. j.t. maston seconded him to the best of his ability, chasing the intruders away and picking up the still-lighted cigar-ends which the yankees threw about--a rude task, for more than 300,000 people pressed round the palisades. michel ardan had offered himself to escort the cases to the mouth of the gun, but having caught him with a cigar in his mouth whilst he drove out the intruders to whom he was giving this unfortunate example, the president of the gun club saw that he could not depend upon this intrepid smoker, and was obliged to have him specially watched. at last, there being a providence even for artillerymen, nothing blew up, and the loading was happily terminated. the third bet of captain nicholl was therefore much imperilled. there still remained the work of introducing the projectile into the columbiad and placing it on the thick bed of gun-cotton. but before beginning this operation the objects necessary for the journey were placed with order in the waggon-compartment. there were a good many of them, and if they had allowed michel ardan to do as he pleased he would soon have filled up all the space reserved for the travellers. no one can imagine all that the amiable frenchman wished to carry to the moon--a heap of useless trifles. but barbicane interfered, and refused all but the strictly necessary. several thermometers, barometers, and telescopes were placed in the instrument-case. the travellers were desirous of examining the moon during their transit, and in order to facilitate the survey of this new world they took an excellent map by boeer and moedler, the _mappa selenographica_, published in four plates, which is justly looked upon as a masterpiece of patience and observation. it represented with scrupulous exactitude the slightest details of that portion of the moon turned towards the earth. mountains, valleys, craters, peaks, watersheds, were depicted on it in their exact dimensions, faithful positions, and names, from mounts doerfel and leibnitz, whose highest summits rise on the eastern side of the disc, to the _mare frigoris_, which extends into the north polar regions. it was, therefore, a precious document for the travellers, for they could study the country before setting foot upon it. they took also three rifles and three fowling-pieces with powder and shot in great quantity. "we do not know with whom we may have to deal," said michel ardan. "both men and beasts may be displeased at our visit; we must, therefore, take our precautions." the instruments of personal defence were accompanied by pickaxes, spades, saws, and other indispensable tools, without mentioning garments suitable to every temperature, from the cold of the polar regions to the heat of the torrid zone. michel ardan would have liked to take a certain number of animals of different sorts, not male and female of every species, as he did not see the necessity of acclimatising serpents, tigers, alligators, or any other noxious beasts in the moon. "no," said he to barbicane, "but some useful animals, ox or cow, ass or horse, would look well in the landscape and be of great use." "i agree with you, my dear ardan," answered the president of the gun club; "but our projectile is not noah's ark. it differs both in dimensions and object, so let us remain in the bounds of possibility." at last after long discussions it was agreed that the travellers should be content to take with them an excellent sporting dog belonging to nicholl and a vigorous newfoundland of prodigious strength. several cases of the most useful seeds were included amongst the indispensable objects. if they had allowed him, michel ardan would have taken several sacks of earth to sow them in. any way he took a dozen little trees, which were carefully enveloped in straw and placed in a corner of the projectile. then remained the important question of provisions, for they were obliged to provide against finding the moon absolutely barren. barbicane managed so well that he took enough for a year. but it must be added, to prevent astonishment, that these provisions consisted of meat and vegetable compressed to their smallest volume by hydraulic pressure, and included a great quantity of nutritive elements; there was not much variety, but it would not do to be too particular in such an expedition. there was also about fifty gallons of brandy and water for two months only, for, according to the latest observations of astronomers, no one doubted the presence of a large quantity of water in the moon. as to provisions, it would have been insane to believe that the inhabitants of the earth would not find food up there. michel ardan had no doubt about it. if he had he would not have gone. "besides," said he one day to his friends, "we shall not be completely abandoned by our friends on earth, and they will take care not to forget us." "no, certainly," answered j.t. maston. "what do you mean?" asked nicholl. "nothing more simple," answered ardan. "will not our columbiad be still there? well, then, every time that the moon is in favourable conditions of zenith, if not of perigee--that is to say, about once a year--could they not send us a projectile loaded with provisions which we should expect by a fixed date?" "hurrah!" cried j.t. maston. "that is not at all a bad idea. certainly we will not forget you." "i depend upon you. thus you see we shall have news regularly from the globe, and for our part we shall be very awkward if we do not find means to communicate with our good friends on earth." these words inspired such confidence that michel ardan with his superb assurance would have carried the whole gun club with him. what he said seemed simple, elementary, and sure of success, and it would have been sordid attachment to this earth to hesitate to follow the three travellers upon their lunar expedition. when the different objects were placed in the projectile the water was introduced between the partitions and the gas for lighting purposes laid in. barbicane took enough chlorate of potash and caustic potash for two months, as he feared unforeseen delay. an extremely ingenious machine working automatically put the elements for good air in motion. the projectile, therefore, was ready, and the only thing left to do was to lower it into the gun, an operation full of perils and difficulty. the enormous projectile was taken to the summit of stony hill. there enormous cranes seized it and held it suspended over the metal well. this was an anxious moment. if the chains were to break under the enormous weight the fall of such a mass would inevitably ignite the gun-cotton. happily nothing of the sort happened, and a few hours afterwards the projectile-compartment rested on its pyroxyle bed, a veritable fulminating pillow. the only effect of its pressure was to ram the charge of the gun more strongly. "i have lost," said the captain, handing the sum of 3,000 dollars to president barbicane. barbicane did not wish to receive this money from his travelling companion, but he was obliged to give way to nicholl, who wished to fulfil all his engagements before leaving the earth. "then," said michel ardan, "there is but one thing i wish for you now, captain." "what is that?" asked nicholl. "it is that you may lose your other two wagers. by that means we shall be sure not to be stopped on the road." chapter xxvi. fire! the 1st of december came, the fatal day, for if the projectile did not start that very evening at 10h. 46m. and 40s. p.m., more than eighteen years would elapse before the moon would present the same simultaneous conditions of zenith and perigee. the weather was magnificent; notwithstanding the approach of winter the sun shone brightly and bathed in its radiance that earth which three of its inhabitants were about to leave for a new world. how many people slept badly during the night that preceded the ardently-longed-for day! how many breasts were oppressed with the heavy burden of waiting! all hearts beat with anxiety except only the heart of michel ardan. this impassible person went and came in his usual business-like way, but nothing in him denoted any unusual preoccupation. his sleep had been peaceful--it was the sleep of turenne upon a gun-carriage the night before the battle. from early dawn an innumerable crowd covered the prairie, which extended as far as the eye could reach round stony hill. every quarter of an hour the railroad of tampa brought fresh sightseers. according to the _tampa town observer_, five millions of spectators were that day upon floridian soil. the greater part of this crowd had been living in tents round the inclosure, and laid the foundations of a town which has since been called "ardan's town." the ground bristled with huts, cabins, and tents, and these ephemeral habitations sheltered a population numerous enough to rival the largest cities of europe. every nation upon earth was represented; every language was spoken at the same time. it was like the confusion of tongues at the tower of babel. there the different classes of american society mixed in absolute equality. bankers, cultivators, sailors, agents, merchants, cotton-planters, and magistrates elbowed each other with primitive ease. the creoles of louisiana fraternised with the farmers of indiana; the gentlemen of kentucky and tennessee, the elegant and haughty virginians, joked with the half-savage trappers of the lakes and the butchers of cincinnati. they appeared in broad-brimmed white beavers and panamas, blue cotton trousers, from the opelousa manufactories, draped in elegant blouses of écru cloth, in boots of brilliant colours, and extravagant shirt-frills; upon shirt-fronts, cuffs, cravats, on their ten fingers, even in their ears, an assortment of rings, pins, diamonds, chains, buckles, and trinkets, the cost of which equalled the bad taste. wife, children, servants, in no less rich dress, accompanied, followed, preceded, and surrounded their husbands, fathers, and masters, who resembled the patriarchs amidst their innumerable families. at meal-times it was a sight to see all these people devour the dishes peculiar to the southern states, and eat, with an appetite menacing to the provisioning of florida, the food that would be repugnant to a european stomach, such as fricasseed frogs, monkey-flesh, fish-chowder, underdone opossum, and raccoon steaks. the liquors that accompanied this indigestible food were numerous. shouts and vociferations to buy resounded through the bar-rooms or taverns, decorated with glasses, tankards, decanters, and bottles of marvellous shapes, mortars for pounding sugar, and bundles of straws. "mint-julep!" roars out one of the salesmen. "claret sangaree!" shouts another through his nose. "gin-sling!" shouts one. "cocktail! brandy-smash!" cries another. "who'll buy real mint-julep in the latest style?" shouted these skilful salesmen, rapidly passing from one glass to another the sugar, lemon, green mint, crushed ice, water, cognac, and fresh pine-apple which compose this refreshing drink. generally these sounds, addressed to throats made thirsty by the spices they consumed, mingled into one deafening roar. but on this 1st of december these cries were rare. no one thought of eating and drinking, and at 4 p.m. there were many spectators in the crowd who had not taken their customary lunch! a much more significant fact, even the national passion for gaming was allayed by the general emotion. thimbles, skittles, and cards were left in their wrappings, and testified that the great event of the day absorbed all attention. until nightfall a dull, noiseless agitation like that which precedes great catastrophes ran through the anxious crowd. an indescribable uneasiness oppressed all minds, and stopped the beating of all hearts. every one wished it over. however, about seven o'clock this heavy silence was suddenly broken. the moon rose above the horizon. several millions of hurrahs saluted her apparition. she was punctual to the appointment. shouts of welcome broke from all parts, whilst the blonde phoebe shone peacefully in a clear sky, and caressed the enraptured crowd with her most affectionate rays. at that moment the three intrepid travellers appeared. when they appeared the cries redoubled in intensity. unanimously, instantaneously, the national song of the united states escaped from all the spectators, and "yankee doodle," sung by 5,000,000 of hearty throats, rose like a roaring tempest to the farthest limits of the atmosphere. then, after this irresistible outburst, the hymn was ended, the last harmonies died away by degrees, and a silent murmur floated over the profoundly-excited crowd. in the meantime the frenchman and the two americans had stepped into the inclosure round which the crowd was pressing. they were accompanied by the members of the gun club, and deputations sent by the european observatories. barbicane was coolly and calmly giving his last orders. nicholl, with compressed lips and hands crossed behind his back, walked with a firm and measured step. michel ardan, always at his ease, clothed in a perfect travelling suit, with leather gaiters on his legs, pouch at his side, in vast garment of maroon velvet, a cigar in his mouth, distributed shakes of the hand with princely prodigality. he was full of inexhaustible gaiety, laughing, joking, playing pranks upon the worthy j.t. maston, and was, in a word, "french," and, what is worse, "parisian," till the last second. ten o'clock struck. the moment had come to take their places in the projectile; the necessary mechanism for the descent the door-plate to screw down, the removal of the cranes and scaffolding hung over the mouth of the columbiad, took some time. barbicane had set his chronometer to the tenth of a second by that of the engineer murchison, who was entrusted with setting fire to the powder by means of the electric spark; the travellers shut up in the projectile could thus watch the impassive needle which was going to mark the precise instant of their departure. the moment for saying farewell had come. the scene was touching; in spite of his gaiety michel ardan felt touched. j.t. maston had found under his dry eyelids an ancient tear that he had, doubtless, kept for the occasion. he shed it upon the forehead of his dear president. "suppose i go too?" said he. "there is still time!" "impossible, old fellow," answered barbicane. a few moments later the three travelling companions were installed in the projectile, and had screwed down the door-plate, and the mouth of the columbiad, entirely liberated, rose freely towards the sky. nicholl, barbicane, and michel ardan were definitively walled up in their metal vehicle. who could predict the universal emotion then at its paroxysm? the moon was rising in a firmament of limpid purity, outshining on her passage the twinkling fire of the stars; she passed over the constellation of the twins, and was now nearly halfway between the horizon and the zenith. a frightful silence hung over all that scene. there was not a breath of wind on the earth! not a sound of breathing from the crowd! hearts dared not beat. every eye was fixed on the gaping mouth of the columbiad. murchison watched the needle of his chronometer. hardly forty seconds had to elapse before the moment of departure struck, and each one lasted a century! at the twentieth there was a universal shudder, and the thought occurred to all the crowd that the audacious travellers shut up in the vehicle were likewise counting these terrible seconds! some isolated cries were heard. "thirty-five!--thirty-six!--thirty-seven!--thirty--eight!--thirty-nine! --forty! fire!!!" murchison immediately pressed his finger upon the electric knob and hurled the electric spark into the depths of the columbiad. a fearful, unheard-of, superhuman report, of which nothing could give an idea, not even thunder or the eruption of volcanoes, was immediately produced. an immense spout of fire sprang up from the bowels of the earth as if from a crater. the soil heaved and very few persons caught a glimpse of the projectile victoriously cleaving the air amidst the flaming smoke. chapter xxvii. cloudy weather. at the moment when the pyramid of flame rose to a prodigious height in the air it lighted up the whole of florida, and for an incalculable moment day was substituted for night over a considerable extent of country. this immense column of fire was perceived for a hundred miles out at sea, from the gulf and from the atlantic, and more than one ship's captain noted the apparition of this gigantic meteor in his log-book. the discharge of the columbiad was accompanied by a veritable earthquake. florida was shaken to its very depths. the gases of the powder, expanded by heat, forced back the atmospheric strata with tremendous violence, passing like a waterspout through the air. not one spectator remained on his legs; men, women, and children were thrown down like ears of wheat in a storm; there was a terrible tumult, and a large number of people were seriously injured. j.t. maston, who had very imprudently kept to the fore, was thrown twenty yards backwards like a bullet over the heads of his fellow-citizens. three hundred thousand people were temporarily deafened and as though thunderstruck. the atmospheric current, after throwing over huts and cabins, uprooting trees within a radius of twenty miles, throwing the trains off the railway as far as tampa, burst upon the town like an avalanche and destroyed a hundred houses, amongst others the church of st. mary and the new edifice of the exchange. some of the vessels in the port were run against each other and sunk, and ten of them were stranded high and dry after breaking their chains like threads of cotton. but the circle of these devastations extended farther still, and beyond the limits of the united states. the recoil, aided by the westerly winds, was felt on the atlantic at more than 300 miles from the american shores. an unexpected tempest, which even admiral fitzroy could not have foreseen, broke upon the ships with unheard-of violence. several vessels, seized by a sort of whirlwind before they had time to furl their sails, were sunk, amongst others the _childe harold_, of liverpool, a regrettable catastrophe which was the object of lively recriminations. lastly--although the fact is not warranted except by the affirmation of a few natives--half-an-hour after the departure of the projectile the inhabitants of sierra-leone pretended that they heard a dull noise, the last displacement of the sonorous waves, which, after crossing the atlantic, died away on the african coast. but to return to florida. the tumult once lessened, the wounded and deaf--in short, all the crowd--rose and shouted in a sort of frenzy, "hurrah for ardan! hurrah for barbicane! hurrah for nicholl!" several millions of men, nose in air, armed with telescopes and every species of field-glass, looked into space, forgetting contusions and feelings, in order to look at the projectile. but they sought in vain; it was not to be seen, and they resolved to await the telegrams from long's peak. the director of the cambridge observatory, m. belfast, was at his post in the rocky mountains, and it was to this skilful and persevering astronomer that the observations had been entrusted. but an unforeseen phenomenon, against which nothing could be done, soon came to put public impatience to a rude test. the weather, so fine before, suddenly changed; the sky became covered with clouds. it could not be otherwise after so great a displacement of the atmospheric strata and the dispersion of the enormous quantity of gases from the combustion of 200,000 lbs. of pyroxyle. all natural order had been disturbed. there is nothing astonishing in that, for in sea-fights it has been noticed that the state of the atmosphere has been suddenly changed by the artillery discharge. the next day the sun rose upon an horizon covered with thick clouds, a heavy and an impenetrable curtain hung between earth and sky, and which unfortunately extended as far as the regions of the rocky mountains. it was a fatality. a concert of complaints rose from all parts of the globe. but nature took no notice, and as men had chosen to disturb the atmosphere with their gun, they must submit to the consequences. during this first day every one tried to pierce the thick veil of clouds, but no one was rewarded for the trouble; besides, they were all mistaken in supposing they could see it by looking up at the sky, for on account of the diurnal movement of the globe the projectile was then, of course, shooting past the line of the antipodes. however that might be, when night again enveloped the earth--a dark, impenetrable night--it was impossible to see the moon above the horizon; it might have been thought that she was hiding on purpose from the bold beings who had shot at her. no observation was, therefore, possible, and the despatches from long's peak confirmed the disastrous intelligence. however, if the experiment had succeeded, the travellers, who had started on the 1st of december, at 10h. 46m. 40s. p.m., were due at their destination on the 4th at midnight; so that as up to that time it would, after all, have been difficult to observe a body so small, people waited with all the patience they could muster. on the 4th of december, from 8 p.m. till midnight, it would have been possible to follow the trace of the projectile, which would have appeared like a black speck on the shining disc of the moon. but the weather remained imperturbably cloudy, and exasperated the public, who swore at the moon for not showing herself. _sic transit gloria mundi_! j.t. maston, in despair, set out for long's peak. he wished to make an observation himself. he did not doubt that his friends had arrived at the goal of their journey. no one had heard that the projectile had fallen upon any continent or island upon earth, and j.t. maston did not admit for a moment that it could have fallen into any of the oceans with which the earth is three parts covered. on the 5th the same weather. the large telescopes of the old world--those of herschel, rosse, and foucault--were invariably fixed upon the queen of night, for the weather was magnificent in europe, but the relative weakness of these instruments prevented any useful observation. on the 6th the same weather reigned. impatience devoured three parts of the globe. the most insane means were proposed for dissipating the clouds accumulated in the air. on the 7th the sky seemed to clear a little. hopes revived but did not last long, and in the evening thick clouds defended the starry vault against all eyes. things now became grave. in fact, on the 11th, at 9.11 a.m., the moon would enter her last quarter. after this delay she would decline every day, and even if the sky should clear the chances of observation would be considerably lessened--in fact, the moon would then show only a constantly-decreasing portion of her disc, and would end by becoming new--that is to say, she would rise and set with the sun, whose rays would make her quite invisible. they would, therefore, be obliged to wait till the 3rd of january, at 12.43 p.m., till she would be full again and ready for observation. the newspapers published these reflections with a thousand commentaries, and did not fail to tell the public that it must arm itself with angelic patience. on the 8th no change. on the 9th the sun appeared for a moment, as if to jeer at the americans. it was received with hisses, and wounded, doubtless, by such a reception, it was very miserly of its rays. on the 10th no change. j.t. maston nearly went mad, and fears were entertained for his brain until then so well preserved in its gutta-percha cranium. but on the 11th one of those frightful tempests peculiar to tropical regions was let loose in the atmosphere. terrific east winds swept away the clouds which had been so long there, and in the evening the half-disc of the moon rode majestically amidst the limpid constellations of the sky. chapter xxviii. a new star. that same night the news so impatiently expected burst like a thunderbolt over the united states of the union, and thence darting across the atlantic it ran along all the telegraphic wires of the globe. the projectile had been perceived, thanks to the gigantic reflector of long's peak. the following is the notice drawn up by the director of the cambridge observatory. it resumes the scientific conclusion of the great experiment made by the gun club:-"long's peak, december 12th. "to the staff of the cambridge observatory. "the projectile hurled by the columbiad of stony hill was perceived by messrs. belfast and j.t. maston on the 12th of december at 8.47 p.m., the moon having entered her last quarter. "the projectile has not reached its goal. it has deviated to the side, but near enough to be detained by lunar attraction. "there its rectilinear movement changed to a circular one of extreme velocity, and it has been drawn round the moon in an elliptical orbit, and has become her satellite. "we have not yet been able to determine the elements of this new star. neither its speed of translation or rotation is known. the distance which separates it from the surface of the moon may be estimated at about 2,833 miles. "now two hypotheses may be taken into consideration as to a modification in this state of things:-"either the attraction of the moon will end by drawing it towards her, and the travellers will reach the goal of their journey, "or the projectile, maintained in an immutable orbit, will gravitate round the lunar disc till the end of time. "observation will settle this point some day, but until now the experiment of the gun club has had no other result than that of providing our solar system with a new star. "j belfast." what discussions this unexpected _dénouement_ gave rise to! what a situation full of mystery the future reserved for the investigations of science! thanks to the courage and devotion of three men, this enterprise of sending a bullet to the moon, futile enough in appearance, had just had an immense result, the consequences of which are incalculable. the travellers imprisoned in a new satellite, if they have not attained their end, form at least part of the lunar world; they gravitate around the queen of night, and for the first time human eyes can penetrate all her mysteries. the names of nicholl, barbicane, and michel ardan would be for ever celebrated in astronomical annals, for these bold explorers, desirous of widening the circle of human knowledge, had audaciously rushed into space, and had risked their lives in the strangest experiment of modern times. the notice from long's peak once made known, there spread throughout the universe a feeling of surprise and horror. was it possible to go to the aid of these bold inhabitants of the earth? certainly not, for they had put themselves outside of the pale of humanity by crossing the limits imposed by the creator on his terrestrial creatures. they could procure themselves air for two months; they had provisions for one year; but after? the hardest hearts palpitated at this terrible question. one man alone would not admit that the situation was desperate. one alone had confidence, and it was their friend--devoted, audacious, and resolute as they--the brave j.t. maston. he resolved not to lose sight of them. his domicile was henceforth the post of long's peak--his horizon the immense reflector. as soon as the moon rose above the horizon he immediately framed her in the field of his telescope; he did not lose sight of her for an instant, and assiduously followed her across the stellar spaces; he watched with eternal patience the passage of the projectile over her disc of silver, and in reality the worthy man remained in perpetual communication with his three friends, whom he did not despair of seeing again one day. "we will correspond with them," said he to any one who would listen, "as soon as circumstances will allow. we shall have news from them, and they will have news from us. besides, i know them--they are ingenious men. those three carry with them into space all the resources of art, science, and industry. with those everything can be accomplished, and you will see that they will get out of the difficulty." (for sequel, see "around the moon.") [illustration: "they watched thus through the lateral windows."] * * * * * round the moon. * * * * * introduction. preliminary chapter. containing a short account of the first part of this work to serve as preface to the second. during the course of the year 186---the entire world was singularly excited by a scientific experiment without precedent in the annals of science. the members of the gun club, a circle of artillerymen established at baltimore after the american war, had the idea of putting themselves in communication with the moon--yes, with the moon--by sending a bullet to her. their president, barbicane, the promoter of the enterprise, having consulted the astronomers of the cambridge observatory on this subject, took all the precautions necessary for the success of the extraordinary enterprise, declared practicable by the majority of competent people. after having solicited a public subscription which produced nearly 30,000,000 of francs, it began its gigantic labours. according to the plan drawn up by the members of the observatory, the cannon destined to hurl the projectile was to be set up in some country situated between the 0° and 28° of north or south latitude in order to aim at the moon at the zenith. the bullet was to be endowed with an initial velocity of 12,000 yards a second. hurled on the 1st of december at thirteen minutes and twenty seconds to eleven in the evening, it was to get to the moon four days after its departure on the 5th of december at midnight precisely, at the very instant she would be at her perigee--that is to say, nearest to the earth, or at exactly 86,410 leagues' distance. the principal members of the gun club, the president, barbicane, major elphinstone, the secretary, j.t. maston, and other _savants_, held several meetings, in which the form and composition of the bullet were discussed, as well as the disposition and nature of the cannon, and the quality and quantity of the powder to be employed. it was decided--1, that the projectile should be an obus of aluminium, with a diameter of 800 inches; its sides were to be 12 inches thick, and it was to weigh 19,250 lbs.; 2, that the cannon should be a cast-iron columbiad 900 feet long, and should be cast at once in the ground; 3, that the charge should consist of 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton, which, by developing 6,000,000,000 litres of gas under the projectile, would carry it easily towards the queen of night. these questions settled, president barbicane, aided by the engineer, murchison, chose a site in florida in 27° 7' north lat. and 5° 7' west long. it was there that after marvels of labour the columbiad was cast quite successfully. things were at that pass when an incident occurred which increased the interest attached to this great enterprise. a frenchman, a regular parisian, an artist as witty as audacious, asked leave to shut himself up in the bullet in order to reach the moon and make a survey of the terrestrial satellite. this intrepid adventurer's name was michel ardan. he arrived in america, was received with enthusiasm, held meetings, was carried in triumph, reconciled president barbicane to his mortal enemy, captain nicholl, and in pledge of the reconciliation he persuaded them to embark with him in the projectile. the proposition was accepted. the form of the bullet was changed. it became cylindro-conical. they furnished this species of aërial compartment with powerful springs and breakable partitions to break the departing shock. it was filled with provisions for one year, water for some months, and gas for some days. an automatic apparatus made and gave out the air necessary for the respiration of the three travellers. at the same time the gun club had a gigantic telescope set up on one of the highest summits of the rocky mountains, through which the projectile could be followed during its journey through space. everything was then ready. on the 30th of november, at the time fixed, amidst an extraordinary concourse of spectators, the departure took place, and for the first time three human beings left the terrestrial globe for the interplanetary regions with almost the certainty of reaching their goal. these audacious travellers, michel ardan, president barbicane, and captain nicholl were to accomplish their journey in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutes and twenty seconds; consequently they could not reach the lunar disc until the 5th of december, at midnight, at the precise moment that the moon would be full, and not on the 4th, as some wrongly-informed newspapers had given out. but an unexpected circumstance occurred; the detonation produced by the columbiad had the immediate effect of disturbing the terrestrial atmosphere, where an enormous quantity of vapour accumulated. this phenomenon excited general indignation, for the moon was hidden during several nights from the eyes of her contemplators. the worthy j.t. maston, the greatest friend of the three travellers, set out for the rocky mountains in the company of the honourable j. belfast, director of the cambridge observatory, and reached the station of long's peak, where the telescope was set up which brought the moon, apparently, to within two leagues. the honourable secretary of the gun club wished to observe for himself the vehicle that contained his audacious friends. the accumulation of clouds in the atmosphere prevented all observation during the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th of december. it was even thought that no observation could take place before the 3rd of january in the following year, for the moon, entering her last quarter on the 11th, would after that not show enough of her surface to allow the trace of the projectile to be followed. but at last, to the general satisfaction, a strong tempest during the night between the 11th and 12th of december cleared the atmosphere, and the half-moon was distinctly visible on the dark background of the sky. that same night a telegram was sent from long's peak station by j.t. maston and belfast to the staff of the cambridge observatory. this telegram announced that on the 11th of december, at 8.47 p.m., the projectile hurled by the columbiad of stony hill had been perceived by messrs. belfast and j.t. maston, that the bullet had deviated from its course through some unknown cause, and had not reached its goal, but had gone near enough to be retained by lunar attraction; that its rectilinear movement had been changed to a circular one, and that it was describing an elliptical orbit round the moon, and had become her satellite. the telegram added that the elements of this new star had not yet been calculated--in fact, three observations, taking a star in three different positions, are necessary to determine them. then it stated that the distance separating the projectile from the lunar surface "might be" estimated at about 2,833 leagues, or 4,500 miles. it ended with the following double hypothesis:--either the attraction of the moon would end by carrying the day, and the travellers would reach their goal; or the projectile, fixed in an immutable orbit, would gravitate around the lunar disc to the end of time. in either of these alternatives what would be the travellers' fate? it is true they had provisions enough for some time. but even supposing that their bold enterprise were crowned with success, how would they return? could they ever return? would news of them ever reach the earth? these questions, debated upon by the most learned writers of the time, intensely interested the public. a remark may here be made which ought to be meditated upon by too impatient observers. when a _savant_ announces a purely speculative discovery to the public he cannot act with too much prudence. no one is obliged to discover either a comet or a satellite, and those who make a mistake in such a case expose themselves justly to public ridicule. therefore it is better to wait; and that is what impatient j.t. maston ought to have done before sending to the world the telegram which, according to him, contained the last communication about this enterprise. in fact, the telegram contained errors of two sorts, verified later:--1. errors of observation concerning the distance of the projectile from the surface of the moon, for upon the date of the 11th of december it was impossible to perceive it, and that which j.t. maston had seen, or thought he saw, could not be the bullet from the columbiad. 2. a theoretic error as to the fate of the said projectile, for making it a satellite of the moon was an absolute contradiction of the laws of rational mechanics. one hypothesis only made by the astronomers of long's peak might be realised, the one that foresaw the case when the travellers--if any yet existed--should unite their efforts with the lunar attraction so as to reach the surface of the disc. now these men, as intelligent as they were bold, had survived the terrible shock at departure, and their journey in their bullet-carriage will be related in its most dramatic as well as in its most singular details. this account will put an end to many illusions and previsions, but it will give a just idea of the various circumstances incidental to such an enterprise, and will set in relief barbicane's scientific instincts, nicholl's industrial resources, and the humorous audacity of michel ardan. besides, it will prove that their worthy friend j.t. maston was losing his time when, bending over the gigantic telescope, he watched the course of the moon across the planetary regions. chapter i. from 10.20 p.m. to 10.47 p.m. when ten o'clock struck, michel ardan, barbicane, and nicholl said good-bye to the numerous friends they left upon the earth. the two dogs, destined to acclimatise the canine race upon the lunar continents, were already imprisoned in the projectile. the three travellers approached the orifice of the enormous iron tube, and a crane lowered them to the conical covering of the bullet. there an opening made on purpose let them down into the aluminium vehicle. the crane's tackling was drawn up outside, and the mouth of the columbiad instantly cleared of its last scaffolding. as soon as nicholl and his companions were in the projectile he closed the opening by means of a strong plate screwed down inside. other closely-fitting plates covered the lenticular glasses of the skylights. the travellers, hermetically inclosed in their metal prison, were in profound darkness. "and now, my dear companions," said michel ardan, "let us make ourselves at home. i am a domestic man myself, and know how to make the best of any lodgings. first let us have a light; gas was not invented for moles!" saying which the light-hearted fellow struck a match on the sole of his boot and then applied it to the burner of the receptacle, in which there was enough carbonised hydrogen, stored under strong pressure, for lighting and heating the bullet for 144 hours, or six days and six nights. once the gas lighted, the projectile presented the aspect of a comfortable room with padded walls, furnished with circular divans, the roof of which was in the shape of a dome. the objects in it, weapons, instruments, and utensils, were solidly fastened to the sides in order to bear the parting shock with impunity. every possible precaution had been taken to insure the success of so bold an experiment. michel ardan examined everything, and declared himself quite satisfied with his quarters. "it is a prison," said he, "but a travelling prison, and if i had the right to put my nose to the window i would take it on a hundred years' lease! you are smiling, barbicane. you are thinking of something you do not communicate. do you say to yourself that this prison may be our coffin? our coffin let it be; i would not change it for mahomet's, which only hangs in space, and does not move!" whilst michel ardan was talking thus, barbicane and nicholl were making their last preparations. it was 10.20 p.m. by nicholl's chronometer when the three travellers were definitely walled up in their bullet. this chronometer was regulated to the tenth of a second by that of the engineer, murchison. barbicane looked at it. "my friends," said he, "it is twenty minutes past ten; at thirteen minutes to eleven murchison will set fire to the columbiad; at that minute precisely we shall leave our spheroid. we have, therefore, still seven-and-twenty minutes to remain upon earth." "twenty-six minutes and thirteen seconds," answered the methodical nicholl. "very well!" cried michel ardan good-humouredly; "in twenty-six minutes lots of things can be done. we can discuss grave moral or political questions, and even solve them. twenty-six minutes well employed are worth more than twenty-six years of doing nothing. a few seconds of a pascal or a newton are more precious than the whole existence of a crowd of imbeciles." "and what do you conclude from that, talker eternal?" asked president barbicane. "i conclude that we have twenty-six minutes," answered ardan. "twenty-four only," said nicholl. "twenty-four, then, if you like, brave captain," answered ardan; "twenty-four minutes, during which we might investigate--" "michel," said barbicane, "during our journey we shall have plenty of time to investigate the deepest questions. now we must think of starting." "are we not ready?" "certainly. but there are still some precautions to be taken to deaden the first shock as much as possible!" "have we not water-cushions placed between movable partitions elastic enough to protect us sufficiently?" "i hope so, michel," answered barbicane gently; "but i am not quite sure!" "ah, the joker!" exclaimed michel ardan. "he hopes! he is not quite sure! and he waits till we are encased to make this deplorable acknowledgment! i ask to get out." "by what means?" asked barbicane. "well!" said michel ardan, "it would be difficult. we are in the train, and the guard's whistle will be heard in twenty-four minutes." "twenty!" ejaculated nicholl. the three travellers looked at one another for a few seconds. then they examined all the objects imprisoned with them. "everything is in its place," said barbicane. "the question now is where we can place ourselves so as best to support the departing shock. the position we assume must be important too--we must prevent the blood rushing too violently to our heads." "that is true," said nicholl. "then," answered michel ardan, always ready to suit the action to the word, "we will stand on our heads like the clowns at the circus." "no," said barbicane; "but let us lie on our sides; we shall thus resist the shock better. when the bullet starts it will not much matter whether we are inside or in front." "if it comes to 'not much matter' i am more reassured," answered michel ardan. "do you approve of my idea, nicholl?" asked barbicane. "entirely," answered the captain. "still thirteen minutes and a-half." "nicholl is not a man," exclaimed michel; "he is a chronometer marking the seconds, and with eight holes in--" but his companions were no longer listening to him, and they were making their last preparations with all the coolness imaginable. they looked like two methodical travellers taking their places in the train and making themselves as comfortable as possible. one wonders, indeed, of what materials these american hearts are made, to which the approach of the most frightful danger does not add a single pulsation. three beds, thick and solidly made, had been placed in the projectile. nicholl and barbicane placed them in the centre of the disc that formed the movable flooring. there the three travellers were to lie down a few minutes before their departure. in the meanwhile ardan, who could not remain quiet, turned round his narrow prison like a wild animal in a cage, talking to his friends and his dogs, diana and satellite, to whom it will be noticed he had some time before given these significant names. "up, diana! up, satellite!" cried he, exciting them. "you are going to show to the selenite dogs how well-behaved the dogs of the earth can be! that will do honour to the canine race. if we ever come back here i will bring back a cross-breed of 'moon-dogs' that will become all the rage." "if there are any dogs in the moon," said barbicane. "there are some," affirmed michel ardan, "the same as there are horses, cows, asses, and hens. i wager anything we shall find some hens." "i bet a hundred dollars we find none," said nicholl. "done, captain," answered ardan, shaking hands with nicholl. "but, by-the-bye, you have lost three bets with the president, for the funds necessary for the enterprise were provided, the casting succeeded, and lastly, the columbiad was loaded without accident--that makes six thousand dollars." "yes," answered nicholl. "twenty-three minutes and six seconds to eleven." "i hear, captain. well, before another quarter of an hour is over you will have to make over another nine thousand dollars to the president, four thousand because the columbiad will not burst, and five thousand because the bullet will rise higher than six miles into the air." "i have the dollars," answered nicholl, striking his coat pocket, "and i only want to pay." "come, nicholl, i see you are a man of order, what i never could be; but allow me to tell you that your series of bets cannot be very advantageous to you." "why?" asked barbicane. "because if you win the first the columbiad will have burst, and the bullet with it, and barbicane will not be there to pay you your dollars." "my wager is deposited in the baltimore bank," answered barbicane simply; "and in default of nicholl it will go to his heirs." "what practical men you are!" cried michel ardan. "i admire you as much as i do not understand you." "eighteen minutes to eleven," said nicholl. "only five minutes more," answered barbicane. "yes, five short minutes!" replied michel ardan. "and we are shut up in a bullet at the bottom of a cannon 900 feet long! and under this bullet there are 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton, worth more than 1,600,000 lbs. of ordinary powder! and friend murchison, with his chronometer in hand and his eye fixed on the hand and his finger on the electric knob, is counting the seconds to hurl us into the planetary regions." "enough, michel, enough!" said barbicane in a grave tone. "let us prepare ourselves. a few seconds only separate us from a supreme moment. your hands, my friends." "yes," cried michel ardan, more moved than he wished to appear. the three bold companions shook hands. "god help us!" said the religious president. michel ardan and nicholl lay down on their beds in the centre of the floor. "thirteen minutes to eleven," murmured the captain. twenty seconds more! barbicane rapidly put out the gas, and lay down beside his companions. the profound silence was only broken by the chronometer beating the seconds. suddenly a frightful shock was felt, and the projectile, under the impulsion of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas developed by the deflagration of the pyroxyle, rose into space. chapter ii. the first half-hour. what had happened? what was the effect of the frightful shock? had the ingenuity of the constructors of the projectile been attended by a happy result? was the effect of the shock deadened, thanks to the springs, the four buffers, the water-cushions, and the movable partitions? had they triumphed over the frightful impulsion of the initial velocity of 11,000 metres a second? this was evidently the question the thousands of witnesses of the exciting scene asked themselves. they forgot the object of the journey, and only thought of the travellers! suppose one of them--j.t. maston, for instance--had been able to get a glimpse of the interior of the projectile, what would he have seen? nothing then. the obscurity was profound in the bullet. its cylindro-conical sides had resisted perfectly. there was not a break, a crack, or a dint in them. the admirable projectile was not hurt by the intense deflagration of the powders, instead of being liquefied, as it was feared, into a shower of aluminium. in the interior there was very little disorder on the whole. a few objects had been violently hurled up to the roof, but the most important did not seem to have suffered from the shock. their fastenings were intact. on the movable disc, crushed down to the bottom by the smashing of the partitions and the escape of the water, three bodies lay motionless. did barbicane, nicholl, and michel ardan still breathe? was the projectile nothing but a metal coffin carrying three corpses into space? a few minutes after the departure of the bullet one of these bodies moved, stretched out its arms, lifted up its head, and succeeded in getting upon its knees. it was michel ardan. he felt himself, uttered a sonorous "hum," then said-"michel ardan, complete. now for the others!" the courageous frenchman wanted to get up, but he could not stand. his head vacillated; his blood, violently sent up to his head, blinded him. he felt like a drunken man. "brrr!" said he. "i feel as though i had been drinking two bottles of corton, only that was not so agreeable to swallow!" then passing his hand across his forehead several times, and rubbing his temples, he called out in a firm voice-"nicholl! barbicane!" he waited anxiously. no answer. not even a sigh to indicate that the hearts of his companions still beat. he reiterated his call. same silence. "the devil!" said he. "they seem as though they had fallen from the fifth story upon their heads! bah!" he added with the imperturbable confidence that nothing could shake, "if a frenchman can get upon his knees, two americans will have no difficulty in getting upon their feet. but, first of all, let us have a light on the subject." ardan felt life come back to him in streams. his blood became calm, and resumed its ordinary circulation. fresh efforts restored his equilibrium. he succeeded in getting up, took a match out of his pocket, and struck it; then putting it to the burner he lighted the gas. the meter was not in the least damaged. the gas had not escaped. besides, the smell would have betrayed it, and had this been the case, michel ardan could not with impunity have lighted a match in a medium filled with hydrogen. the gas, mixed in the air, would have produced a detonating mixture, and an explosion would have finished what a shock had perhaps begun. as soon as the gas was lighted ardan bent down over his two companions. their bodies were thrown one upon the other, nicholl on the top, barbicane underneath. ardan raised the captain, propped him up against a divan, and rubbed him vigorously. this friction, administered skilfully, reanimated nicholl, who opened his eyes, instantly recovered his presence of mind, seized ardan's hand, and then looking round him-"and barbicane?" he asked. "each in turn," answered michel ardan tranquilly. "i began with you, nicholl, because you were on the top. now i'll go to barbicane." that said, ardan and nicholl raised the president of the gun club and put him on a divan. barbicane seemed to have suffered more than his companions. he was bleeding, but nicholl was glad to find that the hemorrhage only came from a slight wound in his shoulder. it was a simple scratch, which he carefully closed. nevertheless, barbicane was some time before he came to himself, which frightened his two friends, who did not spare their friction. "he is breathing, however," said nicholl, putting his ear to the breast of the wounded man. "yes," answered ardan, "he is breathing like a man who is in the habit of doing it daily. rub, nicholl, rub with all your might." and the two improvised practitioners set to work with such a will and managed so well that barbicane at last came to his senses. he opened his eyes, sat up, took the hands of his two friends, and his first words were-"nicholl, are we going on?" nicholl and ardan looked at one another. they had not yet thought about the projectile. their first anxiety had been for the travellers, not for the vehicle. "well, really, are we going on?" repeated michel ardan. "or are we tranquilly resting on the soil of florida?" asked nicholl. "or at the bottom of the gulf of mexico?" added michel ardan. "impossible!" cried president barbicane. this double hypothesis suggested by his two friends immediately recalled him to life and energy. they could not yet decide the question. the apparent immovability of the bullet and the want of communication with the exterior prevented them finding it out. perhaps the projectile was falling through space. perhaps after rising a short distance it had fallen upon the earth, or even into the gulf of mexico, a fall which the narrowness of the floridian peninsula rendered possible. the case was grave, the problem interesting. it was necessary to solve it as soon as possible. barbicane, excited, and by his moral energy triumphing over his physical weakness, stood up and listened. a profound silence reigned outside. but the thick padding was sufficient to shut out all the noises on earth; however, one circumstance struck barbicane. the temperature in the interior of the projectile was singularly high. the president drew out a thermometer from the envelope that protected it and consulted it. the instrument showed 81° fahr. "yes!" he then exclaimed--"yes, we are moving! this stifling heat oozes through the sides of our projectile. it is produced by friction against the atmosphere. it will soon diminish; because we are already moving in space, and after being almost suffocated we shall endure intense cold." "what!" asked michel ardan, "do you mean to say that we are already beyond the terrestrial atmosphere?" "without the slightest doubt, michel. listen to me. it now wants but five minutes to eleven. it is already eight minutes since we started. now, if our initial velocity has not been diminished by friction, six seconds would be enough for us to pass the sixteen leagues of atmosphere which surround our spheroid." "just so," answered nicholl; "but in what proportion do you reckon the diminution of speed by friction?" "in the proportion of one-third," answered barbicane. "this diminution is considerable, but it is so much according to my calculations. if, therefore, we have had an initial velocity of 11,000 metres, when we get past the atmosphere it will be reduced to 7,332 metres. however that may be, we have already cleared that space, and--" "and then," said michel ardan, "friend nicholl has lost his two bets--four thousand dollars because the columbiad has not burst, five thousand dollars because the projectile has risen to a greater height than six miles; therefore, nicholl, shell out." "we must prove it first," answered the captain, "and pay afterwards. it is quite possible that barbicane's calculations are exact, and that i have lost my nine thousand dollars. but another hypothesis has come into my mind, and it may cancel the wager." "what is that?" asked barbicane quickly. "the supposition that for some reason or other the powder did not catch fire, and we have not started." "good heavens! captain," cried michel ardan, "that is a supposition worthy of me! it is not serious! have we not been half stunned by the shock? did i not bring you back to life? does not the president's shoulder still bleed from the blow?" "agreed, michel," replied nicholl, "but allow me to ask one question." "ask it, captain." "did you hear the detonation, which must certainly have been formidable?" "no," answered ardan, much surprised, "i certainly did not hear it." "and you, barbicane?" "i did not either." "what do you make of that?" asked nicholl. "what indeed!" murmured the president; "why did we not hear the detonation?" the three friends looked at one another rather disconcertedly. here was an inexplicable phenomenon. the projectile had been fired, however, and there must have been a detonation. "we must know first where we are," said barbicane, "so let us open the panel." this simple operation was immediately accomplished. the screws that fastened the bolts on the outer plates of the right-hand skylight yielded to the coach-wrench. these bolts were driven outside, and obturators wadded with indiarubber corked up the hole that let them through. the exterior plate immediately fell back upon its hinges like a port-hole, and the lenticular glass that covered the hole appeared. an identical light-port had been made in the other side of the projectile, another in the dome, and a fourth in the bottom. the firmament could therefore be observed in four opposite directions--the firmament through the lateral windows, and the earth or the moon more directly through the upper or lower opening of the bullet. barbicane and his companions immediately rushed to the uncovered port-hole. no ray of light illuminated it. profound darkness surrounded the projectile. this darkness did not prevent barbicane exclaiming-"no, my friends, we have not fallen on the earth again! no, we are not immersed at the bottom of the gulf of mexico! yes, we are going up through space! look at those stars that are shining in the darkness, and the impenetrable darkness that lies between the earth and us!" "hurrah! hurrah!" cried michel ardan and nicholl with one voice. in fact, the thick darkness proved that the projectile had left the earth, for the ground, then brilliantly lighted by the moon, would have appeared before the eyes of the travellers if they had been resting upon it. this darkness proved also that the projectile had passed beyond the atmosphere, for the diffused light in the air would have been reflected on the metallic sides of the projectile, which reflection was also wanting. this light would have shone upon the glass of the light-port, and that glass was in darkness. doubt was no longer possible. the travellers had quitted the earth. "i have lost." said nicholl. "i congratulate you upon it," answered ardan. "here are nine thousand dollars," said the captain, taking a bundle of notes out of his pocket. "will you have a receipt?" asked barbicane as he took the money. "if you do not mind," answered nicholl; "it is more regular." and as seriously and phlegmatically as if he had been in his counting-house, president barbicane drew out his memorandum-book and tore out a clear page, wrote a receipt in pencil, dated it, signed it, and gave it to the captain, who put it carefully into his pocket-book. michel ardan took off his hat and bowed to his two companions without speaking a word. such formality under such circumstances took away his power of speech. he had never seen anything so american. once their business over, barbicane and nicholl went back to the light-port and looked at the constellations. the stars stood out clearly upon the dark background of the sky. but from this side the moon could not be seen, as she moves from east to west, rising gradually to the zenith. her absence made ardan say-"and the moon? is she going to fail us?" "do not frighten yourself," answered barbicane, "our spheroid is at her post, but we cannot see her from this side. we must open the opposite light-port." at the very moment when barbicane was going to abandon one window to set clear the opposite one, his attention was attracted by the approach of a shining object. it was an enormous disc the colossal dimensions of which could not be estimated. its face turned towards the earth was brilliantly lighted. it looked like a small moon reflecting the light of the large one. it advanced at prodigious speed, and seemed to describe round the earth an orbit right across the passage of the projectile. to the movement of translation of this object was added a movement of rotation upon itself. it was therefore behaving like all celestial bodies abandoned in space. "eh!" cried michel ardan. "whatever is that? another projectile?" barbicane did not answer. the apparition of this enormous body surprised him and made him uneasy. a collision was possible which would have had deplorable results, either by making the projectile deviate from its route and fall back upon the earth, or be caught up by the attractive power of the asteroid. president barbicane had rapidly seized the consequences of these three hypotheses, which in one way or other would fatally prevent the success of his attempt. his companions were silently watching the object, which grew prodigiously larger as it approached, and through a certain optical illusion it seemed as if the projectile were rushing upon it. "ye gods!" cried michel ardan; "there will be a collision on the line!" the three travellers instinctively drew back. their terror was extreme, but it did not last long, hardly a few seconds. the asteroid passed at a distance of a few hundred yards from the projectile and disappeared, not so much on account of the rapidity of its course, but because its side opposite to the moon was suddenly confounded with the absolute darkness of space. "a good journey to you!" cried michel ardan, uttering a sigh of satisfaction. "is not infinitude large enough to allow a poor little bullet to go about without fear? what was that pretentious globe which nearly knocked against us?" "i know!" answered barbicane. "of course! you know everything." "it is a simple asteroid," said barbicane; "but so large that the attraction of the earth has kept it in the state of a satellite." "is it possible!" exclaimed michel ardan. "then the earth has two moons like neptune?" "yes, my friend, two moons, though she is generally supposed to have but one. but this second moon is so small and her speed so great that the inhabitants of the earth cannot perceive her. it was by taking into account certain perturbations 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 asteroid accomplishes its revolution round the earth in three hours and twenty minutes only. that implies prodigious speed." "do all astronomers admit the existence of this satellite?" asked nicholl. "no," answered barbicane; "but if they had met it like we have they could not doubt any longer. by-the-bye, this asteroid, which would have much embarrassed us had it knocked against us, allows us to determine our position in space." "how?" said ardan. "because its distance is known, and where we met it we were exactly at 8,140 kilometres from the surface of the terrestrial globe." "more than 2,000 leagues!" cried michel ardan. "that beats the express trains of the pitiable globe called the earth!" "i should think it did," answered nicholl, consulting his chronometer; "it is eleven o'clock, only thirteen minutes since we left the american continent." "only thirteen minutes?" said barbicane. "that is all," answered nicholl; "and if our initial velocity were constant we should make nearly 10,000 leagues an hour." "that is all very well, my friends," said the president; "but one insoluble question still remains--why did we not hear the detonation of the columbiad?" for want of an answer the conversation stopped, and barbicane, still reflecting, occupied himself with lowering the covering of the second lateral light-port. his operation succeeded, and through the glass the moon filled the interior of the projectile with brilliant light. nicholl, like an economical man, put out the gas that was thus rendered useless, and the brilliance of which obstructed the observation of planetary space. the lunar disc then shone with incomparable purity. her rays, no longer filtered by the vapoury atmosphere of the terrestrial globe, shone clearly through the glass and saturated the interior air of the projectile with silvery reflections. the black curtain of the firmament really doubled the brilliancy of the moon, which in this void of ether unfavourable to diffusion did not eclipse the neighbouring stars. the sky, thus seen, presented quite a different aspect--one that no human eye could imagine. it will be readily understood with what interest these audacious men contemplated the moon, the supreme goal of their journey. the earth's satellite, in her movement of translation, insensibly neared the zenith, a mathematical point which she was to reach about ninety-six hours later. her mountains and plains, or any object in relief, were not seen more plainly than from the earth; but her light across the void was developed with incomparable intensity. the disc shone like a platinum mirror. the travellers had already forgotten all about the earth which was flying beneath their feet. it was captain nicholl who first drew attention to the vanished globe. "yes!" answered michel ardan. "we must not be ungrateful to it. as we are leaving our country let our last looks reach it. i want to see the earth before it disappears completely from our eyes!" barbicane, to satisfy the desires of his companion, occupied himself with clearing the window at the bottom of the projectile, the one through which they could observe the earth directly. the movable floor which the force of projection had sent to the bottom was taken to pieces, not without difficulty; its pieces, carefully placed against the sides, might still be of use. then appeared a circular bay window, half a yard wide, cut in the lower part of the bullet. it was filled with glass five inches thick, strengthened with brass settings. under it was an aluminium plate, held down by bolts. the screws taken out and the bolts withdrawn, the plate fell back, and visual communication was established between interior and exterior. michel ardan knelt upon the glass. it was dark, and seemed opaque. "well," cried he, "but where's the earth?" "there it is," said barbicane. "what!" cried ardan, "that thin streak, that silvery crescent?" "certainly, michel. in four days' time, when the moon is full, at the very minute we shall reach her, the earth will be new. she will only appear to us under the form of a slender crescent, which will soon disappear, and then she will be buried for some days in impenetrable darkness." "that the earth!" repeated michel ardan, staring at the thin slice of his natal planet. the explanation given by president barbicane was correct. the earth, looked at from the projectile, was entering her last quarter. she was in her octant, and her crescent was clearly outlined on the dark background of the sky. her light, made bluish by the thickness of her atmosphere, was less intense than that of the lunar crescent. this crescent then showed itself under considerable dimensions. it looked like an enormous arch stretched across the firmament. some points, more vividly lighted, especially in its concave part, announced the presence of high mountains; but they disappeared sometimes under black spots, which are never seen on the surface of the lunar disc. they were rings of clouds placed concentrically round the terrestrial spheroid. however, by dint of a natural phenomenon, identical with that produced on the moon when she is in her octants, the contour of the terrestrial globe could be traced. its entire disc appeared slightly visible through an effect of pale light, less appreciable than that of the moon. the reason of this lessened intensity is easy to understand. when this reflection is produced on the moon it is caused by the solar rays which the earth reflects upon her satellite. here it was caused by the solar rays reflected from the moon upon the earth. now terrestrial light is thirteen times more intense than lunar light on account of the difference of volume in the two bodies. hence it follows that in the phenomenon of the pale light the dark part of the earth's disc is less clearly outlined than that of the moon's disc, because the intensity of the phenomenon is in proportion to the lighting power of the two stars. it must be added that the terrestrial crescent seems to form a more elongated curve than that of the disc--a pure effect of irradiation. whilst the travellers were trying to pierce the profound darkness of space, a brilliant shower of falling stars shone before their eyes. hundreds of meteors, inflamed by contact with the atmosphere, streaked the darkness with luminous trails, and lined the cloudy part of the disc with their fire. at that epoch the earth was in her perihelion, and the month of december is so propitious to these shooting stars that astronomers have counted as many as 24,000 an hour. but michel ardan, disdaining scientific reasoning, preferred to believe that the earth was saluting with her finest fireworks the departure of her three children. this was all they saw of the globe lost in the darkness, an inferior star of the solar world, which for the grand planets rises or sets as a simple morning or evening star! imperceptible point in space, it was now only a fugitive crescent, this globe where they had left all their affections. for a long time the three friends, not speaking, yet united in heart, watched while the projectile went on with uniformly decreasing velocity. then irresistible sleep took possession of them. was it fatigue of body and mind? doubtless, for after the excitement of the last hours passed upon earth, reaction must inevitably set in. "well," said michel, "as we must sleep, let us go to sleep." stretched upon their beds, all three were soon buried in profound slumber. but they had not been unconscious for more than a quarter of an hour when barbicane suddenly rose, and, waking his companions, in a loud voice cried-"i've found it!" "what have you found?" asked michel ardan, jumping out of bed. "the reason we did not hear the detonation of the columbiad!" "well?" said nicholl. "it was because our projectile went quicker than sound." chapter iii. taking possession. this curious but certainly correct explanation once given, the three friends fell again into a profound sleep. where would they have found a calmer or more peaceful place to sleep in? upon earth, houses in the town or cottages in the country feel every shock upon the surface of the globe. at sea, ships, rocked by the waves, are in perpetual movement. in the air, balloons incessantly oscillate upon the fluid strata of different densities. this projectile alone, travelling in absolute void amidst absolute silence, offered absolute repose to its inhabitants. the sleep of the three adventurers would have, perhaps, been indefinitely prolonged if an unexpected noise had not awakened them about 7 a.m. on the 2nd of december, eight hours after their departure. this noise was a very distinct bark. "the dogs! it is the dogs!" cried michel ardan, getting up immediately. "they are hungry," said nicholl. "i should think so," answered michel; "we have forgotten them." "where are they?" asked barbicane. one of the animals was found cowering under the divan. terrified and stunned by the first shock, it had remained in a corner until the moment it had recovered its voice along with the feeling of hunger. it was diana, still rather sheepish, that came from the retreat, not without urging. michel ardan encouraged her with his most gracious words. "come, diana," he said--"come, my child; your destiny will be noted in cynegetic annals! pagans would have made you companion to the god anubis, and christians friend to st. roch! you are worthy of being carved in bronze for the king of hell, like the puppy that jupiter gave beautiful europa as the price of a kiss! your celebrity will efface that of the montargis and st. bernard heroes. you are rushing through interplanetary space, and will, perhaps, be the eve of selenite dogs! you will justify up there toussenel's saying, 'in the beginning god created man, and seeing how weak he was, gave him the dog!' come, diana, come here!" diana, whether flattered or not, came out slowly, uttering plaintive moans. "good!" said barbicane. "i see eve, but where is adam?" "adam," answered michel ardan, "can't be far off. he is here somewhere. he must be called! satellite! here, satellite!" but satellite did not appear. diana continued moaning. it was decided, however, that she was not wounded, and an appetising dish was set before her to stop her complaining. as to satellite, he seemed lost. they were obliged to search a long time before discovering him in one of the upper compartments of the projectile, where a rather inexplicable rebound had hurled him violently. the poor animal was in a pitiable condition. "the devil!" said michel. "our acclimatisation is in danger!" the unfortunate dog was carefully lowered. his head had been fractured against the roof, and it seemed difficult for him to survive such a shock. nevertheless, he was comfortably stretched on a cushion, where he sighed once. "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." so saying he offered some water to the wounded animal, who drank it greedily. these attentions bestowed, the travellers attentively watched the earth and the moon. the earth only appeared like a pale disc terminated by a crescent smaller than that of the previous evening, but its volume compared with that of the moon, which was gradually forming a perfect circle, remained enormous. "_parbleu_!" then said michel ardan; "i am really sorry we did not start when the earth was at her full--that is to say, when our globe was in opposition to the sun!" "why?" asked nicholl. "because we should have seen our continents and seas under a new aspect--the continents shining under the solar rays, the seas darker, like they figure upon certain maps of the world! i should like to have seen those poles of the earth upon which the eye of man has never yet rested!" "i daresay," answered barbicane, "but if the earth had been full the moon would have been new--that is to say, invisible amidst the irradiation of the sun. it is better for us to see the goal we want to reach than the place we started from." "you are right, barbicane," answered captain nicholl; "and besides, when we have reached the moon we shall have plenty of time during the long lunar nights to consider at leisure the globe that harbours men like us." "men like us!" cried michel ardan. "but now they are not more like us than the selenites. we are inhabitants of a new world peopled by us alone--the projectile! i am a man like barbicane, and barbicane is a man like nicholl. beyond us and outside of us humanity ends, and we are the only population of this microcosm until the moment we become simple selenites." "in about eighty-eight hours," replied the captain. "which means?" asked michel ardan. "that it is half-past eight," answered nicholl. "very well," answered michel, "i fail to find the shadow of a reason why we should not breakfast _illico_." in fact, the inhabitants of the new star could not live in it without eating, and their stomachs then submitted to the imperious laws of hunger. michel ardan, in his quality of frenchman, declared himself chief cook, an important function that no one disputed with him. the gas gave the necessary degrees of heat for cooking purposes, and the provision-locker furnished the elements of this first banquet. the breakfast began with three cups of excellent broth, due to the liquefaction in hot water of three precious liebig tablets, prepared from the choicest morsels of the pampas ruminants. some slices of beefsteak succeeded them, compressed by the hydraulic press, as tender and succulent as if they had just come from the butchers of the paris café anglais. michel, an imaginative man, would have it they were even rosy. preserved vegetables, "fresher than the natural ones," as the amiable michel observed, succeeded the meat, and were followed by some cups of tea and slices of bread and butter, american fashion. this beverage, pronounced excellent, was made from tea of the first quality, of which the emperor of russia had put some cases at the disposition of the travellers. lastly, as a worthy ending to the meal, ardan ferreted out a fine bottle of "nuits" burgundy that "happened" to be in the provision compartment. the three friends drank it to the union of the earth and her satellite. and as if the generous wine it had distilled upon the hill-sides of burgundy were not enough, the sun was determined to help in the feast. the projectile at that moment emerged from the cone of shadow cast by the terrestrial globe, and the sun's rays fell directly upon the lower disc of the bullet, on account of the angle which the orbit of the moon makes with that of the earth. "the sun!" exclaimed michel ardan. "of course," answered barbicane; "i expected it." "but," said michel, "the cone of shadow thrown by the earth into space extends beyond the moon." "much beyond if you do not take the atmospheric refraction into account," said barbicane. "but when the moon is enveloped in that shadow the centres of the three heavenly bodies--the sun, the earth, and the moon--are in a straight line. then the nodes coincide with the full moon and there is an eclipse. if, therefore, we had started during an eclipse of the moon all our journey would have been accomplished in the dark, which would have been a pity." "why?" "because, although we are journeying in the void, our projectile, bathed in the solar rays, will gather their light and heat; therefore there will be economy of gas, a precious economy in every way." in fact, under these rays, the temperature and brilliancy of which there was no atmosphere to soften, the projectile was lighted and warmed as if it had suddenly passed from winter to summer. the moon above and the sun below inundated it with their rays. "it is pleasant here now," said nicholl. "i believe you!" cried michel ardan. "with a little vegetable soil spread over our aluminium planet we could grow green peas in twenty-four hours. i have only one fear, that is that the walls of our bullet will melt." "you need not alarm yourself, my worthy friend," answered barbicane. "the projectile supported a much higher temperature while it was travelling through the atmosphere. i should not even wonder if it looked to the eyes of the spectators like a fiery meteor." "then j.t. maston must think we are roasted!" "what i am astonished at," answered barbicane, "is that we are not. it was a danger we did not foresee." "i feared it," answered nicholl simply. "and you did not say anything about it, sublime captain!" cried michel ardan, shaking his companion's hand. in the meantime barbicane was making his arrangements in the projectile as though he was never going to leave it. it will be remembered that the base of the aërial vehicle was fifty-four feet square. it was twelve feet high, and admirably fitted up in the interior. it was not much encumbered by the instruments and travelling utensils, which were all in special places, and it left some liberty of movement to its three inhabitants. the thick glass let into a part of the floor could bear considerable weight with impunity. barbicane and his companions walked upon it as well as upon a solid floor; but the sun, which struck it directly with its rays, lighting the interior of the projectile from below, produced singular effects of light. they began by examining the state of the water and provision receptacles. they were not in the least damaged, thanks to the precautions taken to deaden the shock. the provisions were abundant, and sufficient for one year's food. barbicane took this precaution in case the projectile should arrive upon an absolutely barren part of the moon. there was only enough water and brandy for two months. but according to the latest observations of astronomers, the moon had a dense low and thick atmosphere, at least in its deepest valleys, and there streams and watercourses could not fail. therefore the adventurous explorers would not suffer from hunger or thirst during the journey, and the first year of their installation upon the lunar continent. the question of air in the interior of the projectile also offered all security. the reiset and regnault apparatus, destined to produce oxygen, was furnished with enough chlorate of potash for two months. it necessarily consumed a large quantity of gas, for it was obliged to keep the productive matter up to 100°. but there was abundance of that also. the apparatus wanted little looking after. it worked automatically. at that high temperature the chlorate of potash changed into chlorine of potassium, and gave out all the oxygen it contained. the eighteen pounds of chlorate of potash gave out the seven pounds of oxygen necessary for the daily consumption of the three travellers. but it was not enough to renew the oxygen consumed; the carbonic acid gas produced by expiration must also be absorbed. now for the last twelve hours the atmosphere of the bullet had become loaded with this deleterious gas, the product of the combustion of the elements of blood by the oxygen taken into the lungs. nicholl perceived this state of the air by seeing diana palpitate painfully. in fact, carbonic acid gas--through a phenomenon identical with the one to be noticed in the famous dog's grotto--accumulated at the bottom of the projectile by reason of its weight. poor diana, whose head was low down, therefore necessarily suffered from it before her masters. but captain nicholl made haste to remedy this state of things. he placed on the floor of the projectile several receptacles containing caustic potash which he shook about for some time, and this matter, which is very greedy of carbonic acid, completely absorbed it, and thus purified the interior air. an inventory of the instruments was then begun. the thermometers and barometers were undamaged, with the exception of a minimum thermometer the glass of which was broken. an excellent aneroid was taken out of its padded box and hung upon the wall. of course it was only acted upon by and indicated the pressure of the air inside the projectile; but it also indicated the quantity of moisture it contained. at that moment its needle oscillated between 25.24 and 25.08. it was at "set fair." barbicane had brought several compasses, which were found intact. it will be easily understood that under those circumstances their needles were acting at random, without any constant direction. in fact, at the distance the projectile was from the earth the magnetic pole could not exercise any sensible action upon the apparatus. but these compasses, taken upon the lunar disc, might show particular phenomena. in any case it would be interesting to verify whether the earth's satellite, like the earth herself, submitted to magnetical influence. a hypsometer to measure the altitude of the lunar mountains, a sextant to take the height of the sun, a theodolite, an instrument for surveying, telescopes to be used as the moon approached--all these instruments were carefully inspected and found in good condition, notwithstanding the violence of the initial shock. as to the utensils--pickaxes, spades, and different tools--of which nicholl had made a special collection, the sacks of various kinds of grain, and the shrubs which michel ardan counted upon transplanting into selenite soil, they were in their places in the upper corners of the projectile. there was made a sort of granary, which the prodigal frenchman had filled. what was in it was very little known, and the merry fellow did not enlighten anybody. from time to time he climbed up the cramp-irons riveted in the walls to this store-room, the inspection of which he had reserved to himself. he arranged and re-arranged, plunged his hand rapidly into certain mysterious boxes, singing all the time in a voice very out of tune some old french song to enliven the situation. barbicane noticed with interest that his rockets and other fireworks were not damaged. these were important, for, powerfully loaded, they were meant to slacken the speed with which the projectile would, when attracted by the moon after passing the point of neutral attraction, fall upon her surface. this fall besides would be six times less rapid than it would have been upon the surface of the earth, thanks to the difference of volume in the two bodies. the inspection ended, therefore, in general satisfaction. then they all returned to their posts of observation at the lateral and lower port-lights. the same spectacle was spread before them. all the extent of the celestial sphere swarmed with stars and constellations of marvellous brilliancy, enough to make an astronomer wild! on one side the sun, like the mouth of a fiery furnace, shone upon the dark background of the heavens. on the other side the moon, reflecting back his fires, seemed motionless amidst the starry world. then a large spot, like a hole in the firmament, bordered still by a slight thread of silver--it was the earth. here and there nebulous masses like large snow-flakes, and from zenith to nadir an immense ring, formed of an impalpable dust of stars--that milky way amidst which the sun only counts as a star of the fourth magnitude! the spectators could not take their eyes off a spectacle so new, of which no description could give any idea. what reflections it suggested! what unknown emotions it aroused in the soul! barbicane wished to begin the recital of his journey under the empire of these impressions, and he noted down hourly all the events that signalised the beginning of his enterprise. he wrote tranquilly in his large and rather commercial-looking handwriting. during that time the calculating nicholl looked over the formulae of trajectories, and worked away at figures with unparalleled dexterity. michel ardan talked sometimes to barbicane, who did not answer much, to nicholl, who did not hear, and to diana, who did not understand his theories, and lastly to himself, making questions and answers, going and coming, occupying himself with a thousand details, sometimes leaning over the lower port-light, sometimes roosting in the heights of the projectile, singing all the time. in this microcosm he represented the french agitation and loquacity, and it was worthily represented. the day, or rather--for the expression is not correct--the lapse of twelve hours which makes a day upon earth--was ended by a copious supper carefully prepared. no incident of a nature to shake the confidence of the travellers had happened, so, full of hope and already sure of success, they went to sleep peacefully, whilst the projectile, at a uniformly increasing speed, made its way in the heavens. chapter iv. a little algebra. the night passed without incident. correctly speaking, the word "night" is an improper one. the position of the projectile in regard to the sun did not change. astronomically it was day on the bottom of the bullet, and night on the top. when, therefore, in this recital these two words are used they express the lapse of time between the rising and setting of the sun upon earth. the travellers' sleep was so much the more peaceful because, notwithstanding its excessive speed, the projectile seemed absolutely motionless. no movement indicated its journey through space. however rapidly change of place may be effected, it cannot produce any sensible effect upon the organism when it takes place in the void, or when the mass of air circulates along with the travelling body. what inhabitant of the earth perceives the speed which carries him along at the rate of 68,000 miles an hour? movement under such circumstances is not felt more than repose. every object is indifferent to it. when a body is in repose it remains so until some foreign force puts it in movement. when in movement it would never stop if some obstacle were not in its road. this indifference to movement or repose is inertia. barbicane and his companions could, therefore, imagine themselves absolutely motionless, shut up in the interior of the projectile. the effect would have been the same if they had placed themselves on the outside. without the moon, which grew larger above them, and the earth that grew smaller below, they would have sworn they were suspended in a complete stagnation. that morning, the 3rd of december, they were awakened by a joyful but unexpected noise. it was the crowing of a cock in the interior of their vehicle. michel ardan was the first to get up; he climbed to the top of the projectile and closed a partly-open case. "be quiet," said he in a whisper. "that animal will spoil my plan!" in the meantime nicholl and barbicane awoke. "was that a cock?" said nicholl. "no, my friends," answered michel quickly. "i wished to awake you with that rural sound." so saying he gave vent to a cock-a-doodle-do which would have done honour to the proudest of gallinaceans. the two americans could not help laughing. "a fine accomplishment that," said nicholl, looking suspiciously at his companion. "yes," answered michel, "a joke common in my country. it is very gallic. we perpetrate it in the best society." then turning the conversation-"barbicane, do you know what i have been thinking about all night?" "no," answered the president. "about our friends at cambridge. you have already remarked how admirably ignorant i am of mathematics. i find it, therefore, impossible to guess how our _savants_ of the observatory could calculate what initial velocity the projectile ought to be endowed with on leaving the columbiad in order to reach the moon." "you mean," replied barbicane, "in order to reach that neutral point where the terrestrial and lunar attractions are equal; for beyond this point, situated at about 0.9 of the distance, the projectile will fall upon the moon by virtue of its own weight merely." "very well," answered michel; "but once more; how did they calculate the initial velocity?" "nothing is easier," said barbicane. "and could you have made the calculation yourself?" asked michel ardan. "certainly; nicholl and i could have determined it if the notice from the observatory had not saved us the trouble." "well, old fellow," answered michel, "they might sooner cut off my head, beginning with my feet, than have made me solve that problem!" "because you do not know algebra," replied barbicane tranquilly. "ah, that's just like you dealers in _x_! you think you have explained everything when you have said 'algebra.'" "michel," replied barbicane, "do you think it possible to forge without a hammer, or to plough without a ploughshare?" "it would be difficult." "well, then, algebra is a tool like a plough or a hammer, and a good tool for any one who knows how to use it." "seriously?" "quite." "could you use that tool before me?" "if it would interest you." "and could you show me how they calculated the initial speed of our vehicle?" "yes, my worthy friend. by taking into account all the elements of the problem, the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the moon, of the radius of the earth, the volume of the earth and the volume of the moon, i can determine exactly what the initial speed of the projectile ought to be, and that by a very simple formula." "show me the formula." "you shall see it. only i will not give you the curve really traced by the bullet between the earth and the moon, by taking into account their movement of translation round the sun. no. i will consider both bodies to be motionless, and that will be sufficient for us." "why?" "because that would be seeking to solve the problem called 'the problem of the three bodies,' for which the integral calculus is not yet far enough advanced." "indeed," said michel ardan in a bantering tone; "then mathematics have not said their last word." "certainly not," answered barbicane. "good! perhaps the selenites have pushed the integral calculus further than you! by-the-bye, what is the integral calculus?" "it is the inverse of the differential calculus," answered barbicane seriously. "much obliged." "to speak otherwise, it is a calculus by which you seek finished quantities of what you know the differential quantities." "that is clear at least," answered barbicane with a quite satisfied air. "and now," continued barbicane, "for a piece of paper and a pencil, and in half-an-hour i will have found the required formula." that said, barbicane became absorbed in his work, whilst nicholl looked into space, leaving the care of preparing breakfast to his companion. half-an-hour had not elapsed before barbicane, raising his head, showed michel ardan a page covered with algebraical signs, amidst which the following general formula was discernible:- 1 2 2 r m' r r (v v ) = gr { --1 + --( -----) } 2 0 x m d-x d-r "and what does that mean?" asked michel. "that means," answered nicholl, "that the half of _v_ minus _v_ zero square equals _gr_ multiplied by _r_ upon _x_ minus 1 plus _m_ prime upon _m_ multiplied by _r_ upon _d_ minus _x_, minus _r_ upon _d_ minus _x_ minus _r_--" "_x_ upon _y_ galloping upon _z_ and rearing upon _p_" cried michel ardan, bursting out laughing. "do you mean to say you understand that, captain?" "nothing is clearer." "then," said michel ardan, "it is as plain as a pikestaff, and i want nothing more." "everlasting laugher," said barbicane, "you wanted algebra, and now you shall have it over head and ears." "i would rather be hung!" "that appears a good solution, barbicane," said nicholl, who was examining the formula like a _connaisseur_. "it is the integral of the equation of 'vis viva,' and i do not doubt that it will give us the desired result." "but i should like to understand!" exclaimed michel. "i would give ten years of nicholl's life to understand!" "then listen," resumed barbicane. "the half of _v_ minus _v_ zero square is the formula that gives us the demi-variation of the 'vis viva.'" "good; and does nicholl understand what that means?" "certainly, michel," answered the captain. "all those signs that look so cabalistic to you form the clearest and most logical language for those who know how to read it." "and do you pretend, nicholl," asked michel, "that by means of these hieroglyphics, more incomprehensible than the egyptian ibis, you can find the initial speed necessary to give to the projectile?" "incontestably," answered nicholl; "and even by that formula i could always tell you what speed it is going at on any point of the journey." "upon your word of honour?" "yes." "then you are as clever as our president." "no, michel, all the difficulty consists in what barbicane has done. it is to establish an equation which takes into account all the conditions of the problem. the rest is only a question of arithmetic, and requires nothing but a knowledge of the four rules." "that's something," answered michel ardan, who had never been able to make a correct addition in his life, and who thus defined the rule: "a chinese puzzle, by which you can obtain infinitely various results." still barbicane answered that nicholl would certainly have found the formula had he thought about it. "i do not know if i should," said nicholl, "for the more i study it the more marvellously correct i find it." "now listen," said barbicane to his ignorant comrade, "and you will see that all these letters have a signification." "i am listening," said michel, looking resigned. "_d_," said barbicane, "is the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the moon, for we must take the centres to calculate the attraction." "that i understand." "_r_ is the radius of the earth." "_r_, radius; admitted." "_m_ is the volume of the earth; _m prime_ that of the moon. we are obliged to take into account the volume of the two attracting bodies, as the attraction is in proportion to the volume." "i understand that." "_g_ represents gravity, the speed acquired at the end of a second by a body falling on the surface of the earth. is that clear?" "a mountain stream!" answered michel. "now i represent by _x_ the variable distance that separates the projectile from the centre of the earth, and by _v_ the velocity the projectile has at that distance." "good." "lastly, the expression _v_ zero which figures in the equation is the speed the bullet possesses when it emerges from the atmosphere." "yes," said nicholl, "you were obliged to calculate the velocity from that point, because we knew before that the velocity at departure is exactly equal to 3/2 of the velocity upon emerging from the atmosphere." "don't understand any more!" said michel. "yet it is very simple," said barbicane. "i do not find it very simple," replied michel. "it means that when our projectile reached the limit of the terrestrial atmosphere it had already lost one-third of its initial velocity." "as much as that?" "yes, my friend, simply by friction against the atmosphere. you will easily understand that the greater its speed the more resistance it would meet with from the air." "that i admit," answered michel, "and i understand it, although your _v_ zero two and your _v_ zero square shake about in my head like nails in a sack." "first effect of algebra," continued barbicane. "and now to finish we are going to find the numerical known quantity of these different expressions--that is to say, find out their value." "you will finish me first!" answered michel. "some of these expressions," said barbicane, "are known; the others have to be calculated." "i will calculate those," said nicholl. "and _r_," resumed barbicane, "_r_ is the radius of the earth under the latitude of florida, our point of departure, _d_--that is to say, the distance from the centre of the earth to the centre of the moon equals fifty-six terrestrial radii--" nicholl rapidly calculated. "that makes 356,720,000 metres when the moon is at her perigee--that is to say, when she is nearest to the earth." "very well," said barbicane, "now _m_ prime upon _m_--that is to say, the proportion of the moon's volume to that of the earth equals 1/81." "perfect," said michel. "and _g_, the gravity, is to florida 9-1/81 metres. from whence it results that _gr_ equals--" "sixty-two million four hundred and twenty-six thousand square metres," answered nicholl. "what next?" asked michel ardan. "now that the expressions are reduced to figures, i am going to find the velocity _v zero_--that is to say, the velocity that the projectile ought to have on leaving the atmosphere to reach the point of equal attraction with no velocity. the velocity at that point i make equal _zero_, and _x_, the distance where the neutral point is, will be represented by the nine-tenths of _d_--that is to say, the distance that separates the two centres." "i have some vague idea that it ought to be so," said michel. "i shall then have, _x_ equals nine-tenths of _d_, and _v_ equals _zero_, and my formula will become--" barbicane wrote rapidly on the paper- 2 10r 1 10r r v = 2 gr { 1 -- --( -----) } 0 9d 81 d d-r nicholl read it quickly. "that's it! that is it!" he cried. "is it clear?" asked barbicane. "it is written in letters of fire!" answered nicholl. "clever fellows!" murmured michel. "do you understand now?" asked barbicane. "if i understand!" cried michel ardan. "my head is bursting with it." "thus," resumed barbicane, "_v zero_ square equals 2 _gr_ multiplied by 1 minus 10 _r_ upon 9 _d_ minus 1/81 multiplied by 10 _r_ upon _d_ minus _r_ upon _d_ minus _r_." "and now," said nicholl, "in order to obtain the velocity of the bullet as it emerges from the atmosphere i have only to calculate." the captain, like a man used to overcome all difficulties, began to calculate with frightful rapidity. divisions and multiplications grew under his fingers. figures dotted the page. barbicane followed him with his eyes, whilst michel ardan compressed a coming headache with his two hands. "well, what do you make it?" asked barbicane after several minutes' silence. "i make it 11,051 metres in the first second." "what do you say?" said barbicane, starting. "eleven thousand and fifty-one metres." "malediction!" cried the president with a gesture of despair. "what's the matter with you?" asked michel ardan, much surprised. "the matter! why if at this moment the velocity was already diminished one-third by friction, the initial speed ought to have been--" "sixteen thousand five hundred and seventy-six metres!" answered nicholl. "but the cambridge observatory declared that 11,000 metres were enough at departure, and our bullet started with that velocity only!" "well?" asked nicholl. "why it was not enough!" "no." "we shall not reach the neutral point." "the devil!" "we shall not even go half way!" "_nom d'un boulet_!" exclaimed michel ardan, jumping up as if the projectile were on the point of striking against the terrestrial globe. "and we shall fall back upon the earth!" chapter v. the temperature of space. this revelation acted like a thunderbolt. who could have expected such an error in calculation? barbicane would not believe it. nicholl went over the figures again. they were correct. the formula which had established them could not be mistrusted, and, when verified, the initial velocity of 16,576 metres, necessary for attaining the neutral point, was found quite right. the three friends looked at one another in silence. no one thought about breakfast after that. barbicane, with set teeth, contracted brow, and fists convulsively closed, looked through the port-light. nicholl folded his arms and examined his calculations. michel ardan murmured-"that's just like _savants_! that's the way they always do! i would give twenty pistoles to fall upon the cambridge observatory and crush it, with all its stupid staff inside!" all at once the captain made a reflection which struck barbicane at once. "why," said he, "it is seven o'clock in the morning, so we have been thirty-two hours on the road. we have come more than half way, and we are not falling yet that i know of!" barbicane did not answer, but after a rapid glance at the captain he took a compass, which he used to measure the angular distance of the terrestrial globe. then through the lower port-light he made a very exact observation from the apparent immobility of the projectile. then rising and wiping the perspiration from his brow, he put down some figures upon paper. nicholl saw that the president wished to find out from the length of the terrestrial diameter the distance of the bullet from the earth. he looked at him anxiously. "no!" cried barbicane in a few minutes' time, "we are not falling! we are already more than 50,000 leagues from the earth! we have passed the point the projectile ought to have stopped at if its speed had been only 11,000 metres at our departure! we are still ascending!" "that is evident," answered nicholl; "so we must conclude that our initial velocity, under the propulsion of the 400,000 lbs. of gun-cotton, was greater than the 11,000 metres. i can now explain to myself why we met with the second satellite, that gravitates at more than 2,000 leagues from the earth, in less than thirteen minutes." "that explanation is so much the more probable," added barbicane, "because by throwing out the water in our movable partitions the projectile was made considerably lighter all at once." "that is true," said nicholl. "ah, my brave nicholl," cried barbicane, "we are saved!" "very well then," answered michel ardan tranquilly, "as we are saved, let us have breakfast." nicholl was not mistaken. the initial speed had happily been greater than that indicated by the cambridge observatory, but the cambridge observatory had no less been mistaken. the travellers, recovered from their false alarm, sat down to table and breakfasted merrily. though they ate much they talked more. their confidence was greater after the "algebra incident." "why should we not succeed?" repeated michel ardan. "why should we not arrive? we are on the road; there are no obstacles before us, and no stones on our route. it is free--freer than that of a ship that has to struggle with the sea, or a balloon with the wind against it! now if a ship can go where it pleases, or a balloon ascend where it pleases, why should not our projectile reach the goal it was aimed at?" "it will reach it," said barbicane. "if only to honour the american nation," added michel ardan, "the only nation capable of making such an enterprise succeed--the only one that could have produced a president barbicane! ah! now i think of it, now that all our anxieties are over, what will become of us? we shall be as dull as stagnant water." barbicane and nicholl made gestures of repudiation. "but i foresaw this, my friends," resumed michel ardan. "you have only to say the word. i have chess, backgammon, cards, and dominoes at your disposition. we only want a billiard-table!" "what?" asked barbicane, "did you bring such trifles as those?" "certainly," answered michel; "not only for our amusement, but also in the praiseworthy intention of bestowing them upon selenite inns." "my friend," said barbicane, "if the moon is inhabited its inhabitants appeared some thousands of years before those of the earth, for it cannot be doubted that the moon is older than the earth. if, therefore, the selenites have existed for thousands of centuries--if their brains are organised like that of human beings--they have invented all that we have invented, already, and even what we shall only invent in the lapse of centuries. they will have nothing to learn from us, and we shall have everything to learn from them." "what!" answered michel, "do you think they have had 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, and kant?" "i have no doubt of it." "_savants_ like archimedes, euclid, pascal, and newton?" "i could swear it." "clowns like arnal, and photographers like--nadar?" "i am certain of it." "then, friend barbicane, if these selenites are as learned as we, and even more so, why have they not hurled a lunar projectile as far as the terrestrial regions?" "who says they have not done it?" answered barbicane seriously. "in fact," added nicholl, "it would have been easier to them than to us, and that for two reasons--the first because the attraction is six times less on the surface of the moon than on the surface of the earth, which would allow a projectile to go up more easily; secondly the projectile would only have 8,000 leagues to travel instead of 80,000, which would require a force of propulsion ten times less." "then," resumed michel, "i repeat--why have they not done it?" "and i," replied barbicane, "i repeat--who says they have not done it?" "when?" "hundreds of centuries ago, before man's appearance upon earth." "and the bullet? where is the bullet? i ask to see the bullet!" "my friend," answered barbicane, "the sea covers five-sixths of our globe, hence there are five good reasons for supposing that the lunar projectile, if it has been fired, is now submerged at the bottom of the atlantic or pacific, unless it was buried down some abyss at the epoch when the earth's crust was not sufficiently formed." "old fellow," answered michel, "you have an answer to everything, and i bow before your wisdom. there is one hypothesis i would rather believe than the others, and that is that the selenites being older than we are wiser, and have not invented gunpowder at all." at that moment diana claimed her share in the conversation by a sonorous bark. she asked for her breakfast. "ah!" said michel ardan, "our arguments make us forget diana and satellite!" a good dish of food was immediately offered to the dog, who devoured it with great appetite. "do you know, barbicane," said michel, "we ought to have made this projectile a sort of noah's ark, and have taken a couple of all the domestic animals with us to the moon." "no doubt," answered barbicane, "but we should not have had room enough." "oh, we might have been packed a little tighter!" "the fact is," answered nicholl, "that oxen, cows, bulls, and horses, all those ruminants would be useful on the lunar continent. unfortunately we cannot make our projectile either a stable or a cowshed." "but at least," said michel ardan, "we might have brought an ass, nothing but a little ass, the courageous and patient animal old silenus loved to exhibit. i am fond of those poor asses! they are the least favoured animals in creation. they are not only beaten during their lifetime, but are still beaten after their death!" "what do you mean by that?" asked barbicane. "why, don't they use his skin to make drums of?" barbicane and nicholl could not help laughing at this absurd reflection. but a cry from their merry companion stopped them; he was bending over satellite's niche, and rose up saying-"good! satellite is no longer ill." "ah!" said nicholl. "no!" resumed michel, "he is dead. now," he added in a pitiful tone, "this will be embarrassing! i very much fear, poor diana, that you will not leave any of your race in the lunar regions!" the unfortunate satellite had not been able to survive his wounds. he was dead, stone dead. michel ardan, much put out of countenance, looked at his friends. "this makes another difficulty," said barbicane. "we can't keep the dead body of this dog with us for another eight-and-forty hours." "no, certainly not," answered nicholl, "but our port-lights are hung upon hinges. they can be let down. we will open one of them, and throw the body into space." the president reflected for a few minutes, and then said-"yes, that is what we must do, but we must take the most minute precautions." "why?" asked michel. "for two reasons that i will explain to you," answered barbicane. "the first has reference to the air in the projectile, of which we must lose as little as possible." "but we can renew the air!" "not entirely. we can only renew the oxygen, michel; and, by-the-bye, we must be careful that the apparatus do not furnish us with this oxygen in an immoderate quantity, for an excess of it would cause grave physiological consequences. but although we can renew the oxygen we cannot renew the azote, that medium which the lungs do not absorb, and which ought to remain intact. now the azote would rapidly escape if the port-lights were opened." "not just the time necessary to throw poor satellite out." "agreed; but we must do it quickly." "and what is the second reason?" asked michel. "the second reason is that we must not allow the exterior cold, which is excessive, to penetrate into our projectile lest we should be frozen alive." "still the sun--" "the sun warms our projectile because it absorbs its rays, but it does not warm the void we are in now. when there is no air there is no more heat than there is diffused light, and where the sun's rays do not reach directly it is both dark and cold. the temperature outside is only that produced by the radiation of the stars--that is to say, the same as the temperature of the terrestrial globe would be if one day the sun were to be extinguished." "no fear of that," answered nicholl. "who knows?" said michel ardan. "and even supposing that the sun be not extinguished, it might happen that the earth will move farther away from it." "good!" said nicholl; "that's one of michel's ideas!" "well," resumed michel, "it is well known that in 1861 the earth went through the tail of a comet. now suppose there was a comet with a power of attraction greater than that of the sun, the terrestrial globe might make a curve towards the wandering star, and the earth would become its satellite, and would be dragged away to such a distance that the rays of the sun would have no action on its surface." "that might happen certainly," answered barbicane, "but the consequences would not be so redoubtable as you would suppose." "how so?" "because heat and cold would still be pretty well balanced upon our globe. it has been calculated that if the earth had been carried away by the comet of 1861, it would only have felt, when at its greatest distance from the sun, a heat sixteen times greater than that sent to us by the moon--a heat which, when focussed by the strongest lens, produces no appreciable effect." "well?" said michel. "wait a little," answered barbicane. "it has been calculated that at its perihelion, when nearest to the sun, the earth would have borne a heat equal to 28,000 times that of summer. but this heat, capable of vitrifying terrestrial matters, and of evaporating water, would have formed a thick circle of clouds which would have lessened the excessive heat, hence there would be compensation between the cold of the aphelion and the heat of the perihelion, and an average probably supportable." "at what number of degrees do they estimate the temperature of the planetary space?" "formerly," answered barbicane, "it was believed that this temperature was exceedingly low. by calculating its thermometric diminution it was fixed at millions of degrees below zero. it was fourier, one of michel's countrymen, an illustrious _savant_ of the _académie des sciences_, who reduced these numbers to a juster estimation. according to him, the temperature of space does not get lower than 60° centigrade." michel whistled. "it is about the temperature of the polar regions," answered barbicane, "at melville island or fort reliance--about 56° centigrade below zero." "it remains to be proved," said nicholl, "that fourier was not mistaken in his calculations. if i am not mistaken, another frenchman, m. pouillet, estimates the temperature of space at 160° below zero. we shall be able to verify that." "not now," answered barbicane, "for the solar rays striking directly upon our thermometer would give us, on the contrary, a very elevated temperature. but when we get upon the moon, during the nights, a fortnight long, which each of its faces endures alternately, we shall have leisure to make the experiment, for our satellite moves in the void." "what do you mean by the void?" asked michel; "is it absolute void?" "it is absolutely void of air." "is there nothing in its place?" "yes, ether," answered barbicane. "ah! and what is ether?" "ether, my friend, is an agglomeration of imponderable particles, which, relatively to their dimensions, are as far removed from each other as the celestial bodies are in space, so say works on molecular physics. it is these atoms that by their vibrating movement produce light and heat by making four hundred and thirty billions of oscillations a second." "millions of millions!" exclaimed michel ardan; "then _savants_ have measured and counted these oscillations! all these figures, friend barbicane, are _savants'_ figures, which reach the ear but say nothing to the mind." "but they are obliged to have recourse to figures." "no. it would be much better to compare. a billion signifies nothing. an object of comparison explains everything. example--when you tell me that uranus is 76 times larger than the earth, saturn 900 times larger, jupiter 1,300 times larger, the sun 1,300,000 times larger, i am not much wiser. so i much prefer the old comparisons of the _double liégoise_ that simply tells you, 'the sun is a pumpkin two feet in diameter, jupiter an orange, saturn a blenheim apple, neptune a large cherry, uranus a smaller cherry, the earth a pea, venus a green pea, mars the head of a large pin, mercury a grain of mustard, and juno, ceres, vesta, and pallas fine grains of sand!' then i know what it means!" after this tirade of michel ardan's against _savants_ and their billions, which he delivered without stopping to take breath, they set about burying satellite. he was to be thrown into space like sailors throw a corpse into the sea. as president barbicane had recommended, they had to act quickly so as to lose as little air as possible. the bolts upon the right-hand port-hole were carefully unscrewed, and an opening of about half a yard made, whilst michel prepared to hurl his dog into space. the window, worked by a powerful lever, which conquered the pressure of air in the interior upon the sides of the projectile, moved upon its hinges, and satellite was thrown out. scarcely a particle of air escaped, and the operation succeeded so well that later on barbicane did not fear to get rid of all the useless rubbish that encumbered the vehicle in the same way. chapter vi. questions and answers. on the 4th of december, at 5 a.m. by terrestrial reckoning, the travellers awoke, having been fifty-four hours on their journey. they had only been five hours and forty minutes more than half the time assigned for the accomplishment of their journey, but they had come more than seven-tenths of the distance. this peculiarity was due to their regularly-decreasing speed. when they looked at the earth through the port-light at the bottom, it only looked like a black spot drowned in the sun's rays. no crescent or pale light was now to be seen. the next day at midnight the earth would be new at the precise moment when the moon would be full. above, the queen of night was nearing the line followed by the projectile, so as to meet it at the hour indicated. all around the dark vault was studded with brilliant specks which seemed to move slowly; but through the great distance they were at their relative size did not seem to alter much. the sun and the stars appeared exactly as they do from the earth. the moon was considerably enlarged; but the travellers' not very powerful telescopes did not as yet allow them to make very useful observations on her surface, or to reconnoitre the topographical or geological details. the time went by in interminable conversations. the talk was especially about the moon. each brought his contingent of particular knowledge. barbicane's and nicholl's were always serious, michel ardan's always fanciful. the projectile, its situation and direction, the incidents that might arise, the precautions necessitated by its fall upon the moon, all this afforded inexhaustible material for conjecture. whilst breakfasting a question of michel's relative to the projectile provoked a rather curious answer from barbicane, and one worthy of being recorded. michel, supposing the bullet to be suddenly stopped whilst still endowed with its formidable initial velocity, wished to know what the consequences would have been. "but," answered barbicane, "i don't see how the projectile could have been stopped." "but let us suppose it," answered nicholl. "it is an impossible supposition," replied the practical president, "unless the force of impulsion had failed. but in that case its speed would have gradually decreased, and would not have stopped abruptly." "admit that it had struck against some body in space." "what body?" "the enormous meteor we met." "then," said nicholl, "the projectile would have been broken into a thousand pieces, and we with it." "more than that," answered barbicane, "we should have been burnt alive." "burnt!" exclaimed michel. "i regret it did not happen for us just to see." "and you would have seen with a vengeance," answered barbicane. "it is now known that heat is only a modification of movement when water is heated--that is to say, when heat is added to it--that means the giving of movement to its particles." "that is an ingenious theory!" said michel. "and a correct one, my worthy friend, for it explains all the phenomena of caloric. heat is only molecular movement, a single oscillation of the particles of a body. when the break is put on a train it stops. but what becomes of the movement which animated it? why do they grease the axles of the wheels? in order to prevent them catching fire from the movement lost by transformation. do you understand?" "admirably," answered michel. "for example, when i have been running some time, and am covered with sweat, why am i forced to stop? simply because my movement has been transformed into heat." barbicane could not help laughing at this _répartie_ of michel's. then resuming his theory-"thus," said he, "in case of a collision, it would have happened to our projectile as it does to the metal cannon-ball after striking armour-plate; it would fall burning, because its movement had been transformed into heat. in consequence, i affirm that if our bullet had struck against the asteroid, its speed, suddenly annihilated, would have produced heat enough to turn it immediately into vapour." "then," asked nicholl, "what would happen if the earth were to be suddenly stopped in her movement of translation?" "her temperature would be carried to such a point," answered barbicane, "that she would be immediately reduced to vapour." "good," said michel; "that means of ending the world would simplify many things." "and suppose the earth were to fall upon the sun?" said nicholl. "according to calculations," answered barbicane, "that would develop a heat equal to that produced by 1,600 globes of coal, equal in volume to the terrestrial globe." "a good increase of temperature for the sun," replied michel ardan, "of which the inhabitants of uranus or neptune will probably not complain, for they must be dying of cold on their planet." "thus, then, my friends, any movement suddenly stopped produces heat. this theory makes it supposed that the sun is constantly fed by an incessant fall of bodies upon its surface. it has been calculated--" "now i shall be crushed," murmured michel, "for figures are coming." "it has been calculated," continued barbicane imperturbably, "that the shock of each asteroid upon the sun must produce heat equal to that of 4,000 masses of coal of equal volume." "and what is the heat of the sun?" asked michel. "it is equal to that which would be produced by a stratum of coal surrounding the sun to a depth of twenty-seven kilometres." "and that heat--" "could boil 2,900,000,000 of cubic myriametres of water an hour." (a myriametre is equal to rather more than 6.2138 miles, or 6 miles 1 furlong 28 poles.) "and we are not roasted by it?" cried michel. "no," answered barbicane, "because the terrestrial atmosphere absorbs four-tenths of the solar heat. besides, the quantity of heat intercepted by the earth is only two thousand millionth of the total." "i see that all is for the best," replied michel, "and that our atmosphere is a useful invention, for it not only allows us to breathe, but actually prevents us roasting." "yes," said nicholl, "but, unfortunately, it will not be the same on the moon." "bah!" said michel, always confident. "if there are any inhabitants they breathe. if there are no longer any they will surely have left enough oxygen for three people, if only at the bottom of those ravines where it will have accumulated by reason of its weight! well, we shall not climb the mountains! that is all." and michel, getting up, went to look at the lunar disc, which was shining with intolerable brilliancy. "faith!" said he, "it must be hot up there." "without reckoning," answered nicholl, "that daylight lasts 360 hours." "and by way of compensation night has the same duration," said barbicane, "and as heat is restored by radiation, their temperature must be that of planetary space." "a fine country truly!" said nicholl. "never mind! i should like to be there already! it will be comical to have the earth for a moon, to see it rise on the horizon, to recognise the configuration of its continents, to say to oneself, 'there's america and there's europe;' then to follow it till it is lost in the rays of the sun! by-the-bye, barbicane, have the selenites any eclipses?" "yes, eclipses of the sun," answered barbicane, "when the centres of the three stars are on the same line with the earth in the middle. but they are merely annular eclipses, during which the earth, thrown like a screen across the solar disc, allows the greater part to be seen." "why is there no total eclipse?" asked nicholl. "is it because the cone of shade thrown by the earth does not extend beyond the moon?" "yes, if you do not take into account the refraction produced by the terrestrial atmosphere, not if you do take that refraction into account. thus, let _delta_ be the horizontal parallax and _p_ the apparent semidiameter--" "ouf!" said michel, "half of _v_ zero square! do speak the vulgar tongue, man of algebra!" "well, then, in popular language," answered barbicane, "the mean distance between the moon and the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of shadow, by dint of refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. it follows, therefore, that during the eclipses the moon is beyond the cone of pure shade, and the sun sends it not only rays from its edges, but also rays from its centre." "then," said michel in a grumbling tone, "why is there any eclipse when there ought to be none?" "solely because the solar rays are weakened by the refraction, and the atmosphere which they traverse extinguishes the greater part of them." "that reason satisfies me," answered michel; "besides, we shall see for ourselves when we get there. now, barbicane, do you believe that the moon is an ancient comet?" "what an idea!" "yes," replied michel, with amiable conceit, "i have a few ideas of that kind." "but that idea does not originate with michel," answered nicholl. "then i am only a plagiarist." "without doubt," answered nicholl. "according to the testimony of the ancients, the arcadians pretended that their ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her satellite. starting from this fact, certain _savants_ think the moon was a comet which its orbit one day brought near enough to the earth to be retained by terrestrial attraction." "and what truth is there in that hypothesis?" asked michel. "none," answered barbicane, "and the proof is that the moon has not kept a trace of the gaseous envelope that always accompanies comets." "but," said nicholl, "might not the moon, before becoming the earth's satellite, have passed near enough to the sun to leave all her gaseous substances by evaporation?" "it might, friend nicholl, but it is not probable." "why?" "because--because, i really don't know." "ah, what hundreds of volumes we might fill with what we don't know!" exclaimed michel. "but i say," he continued, "what time is it?" "three o'clock," answered nicholl. "how the time goes," said michel, "in the conversation of _savants_ like us! decidedly i feel myself getting too learned! i feel that i am becoming a well of knowledge!" so saying, michel climbed to the roof of the projectile, "in order better to observe the moon," he pretended. in the meanwhile his companions watched the vault of space through the lower port-light. there was nothing fresh to signalise. when michel ardan came down again he approached the lateral port-light, and suddenly uttered an exclamation of surprise. "what is the matter now?" asked barbicane. the president approached the glass and saw a sort of flattened sack floating outside at some yards' distance from the projectile. this object seemed motionless like the bullet, and was consequently animated with the same ascensional movement. "whatever can that machine be?" said michel ardan. "is it one of the corpuscles of space which our projectile holds in its radius of attraction, and which will accompany it as far as the moon?" "what i am astonished at," answered nicholl, "is that the specific weight of this body, which is certainly superior to that of the bullet, allows it to maintain itself so rigorously on its level." "nicholl," said barbicane, after a moment's reflection, "i do not know what that object is, but i know perfectly why it keeps on a level with the projectile." "why, pray?" "because we are floating in the void where bodies fall or move--which is the same thing--with equal speed whatever their weight or form may be. it is the air which, by its resistance, creates differences in weight. when you pneumatically create void in a tube, the objects you throw down it, either lead or feathers, fall with the same rapidity. here in space you have the same cause and the same effect." "true," said nicholl, "and all we throw out of the projectile will accompany us to the moon." "ah! what fools we are!" cried michel. "why this qualification?" asked barbicane. "because we ought to have filled the projectile with useful objects, books, instruments, tools, &c. we could have thrown them all out, and they would all have followed in our wake! but, now i think of it, why can't we take a walk outside this? why can't we go into space through the port-light? what delight it would be to be thus suspended in ether, more favoured even than birds that are forced to flap their wings to sustain them!" "agreed," said barbicane, "but how are we to breathe?" "confounded air to fail so inopportunely!" "but if it did not fail, michel, your density being inferior to that of the projectile, you would soon remain behind." "then it is a vicious circle." "all that is most vicious." "and we must remain imprisoned in our vehicle." "yes, we must." "ah!" cried michel in a formidable voice. "what is the matter with you?" asked nicholl. "i know, i guess what this pretended asteroid is! it is not a broken piece of planet!" "what is it, then?" asked nicholl. "it is our unfortunate dog! it is diana's husband!" in fact, this deformed object, reduced to nothing, and quite unrecognisable, was the body of satellite flattened like a bagpipe without wind, and mounting, for ever mounting! chapter vii. a moment of intoxication. thus a curious but logical, strange yet logical phenomenon took place under these singular conditions. every object thrown out of the projectile would follow the same trajectory and only stop when it did. that furnished a text for conversation which the whole evening could not exhaust. the emotion of the three travellers increased as they approached the end of their journey. they expected unforeseen incidents, fresh phenomena, and nothing would have astonished them under present circumstances. their excited imagination outdistanced the projectile, the speed of which diminished notably without their feeling it. but the moon grew larger before their eyes, and they thought they had only to stretch out their hands to touch it. the next day, the 5th of december, they were all wide awake at 5 a.m. that day was to be the last of their journey if the calculations were exact. that same evening, at midnight, within eighteen hours, at the precise moment of full moon, they would reach her brilliant disc. the next midnight would bring them to the goal of their journey, the most extraordinary one of ancient or modern times. at early dawn, through the windows made silvery with her rays, they saluted the queen of night with a confident and joyful hurrah. the moon was sailing majestically across the starry firmament. a few more degrees and she would reach that precise point in space where the projectile was to meet her. according to his own observations, barbicane thought that he should accost her in her northern hemisphere, where vast plains extend and mountains are rare--a favourable circumstance if the lunar atmosphere was, according to received opinion, stored up in deep places only. "besides," observed michel ardan, "a plain is more suitable for landing upon than a mountain. a selenite landed in europe on the summit of mont blanc, or in asia on a peak of the himalayas, would not be precisely at his destination!" "what is more," added nicholl, "on a plain the projectile will remain motionless after it has touched the ground, whilst it would roll down a hill like an avalanche, and as we are not squirrels we should not come out safe and sound. therefore all is for the best." in fact, the success of the audacious enterprise no longer appeared doubtful. still one reflection occupied barbicane; but not wishing to make his two companions uneasy, he kept silence upon it. the direction of the projectile towards the northern hemisphere proved that its trajectory had been slightly modified. the aim, mathematically calculated, ought to have sent the bullet into the very centre of the lunar disc. if it did not arrive there it would be because it had deviated. what had caused it? barbicane could not imagine nor determine the importance of this deviation, for there was no datum to go upon. he hoped, however, that the only result would be to take them towards the upper edge of the moon, a more suitable region for landing. barbicane, therefore, without saying anything to his friends, contented himself with frequently observing the moon, trying to see if the direction of the projectile would not change. for the situation would have been so terrible had the bullet, missing its aim, been dragged beyond the lunar disc and fallen into interplanetary space. at that moment the moon, instead of appearing flat like a disc, already showed her convexity. if the sun's rays had reached her obliquely the shadow then thrown would have made the high mountains stand out. they could have seen the gaping craters and the capricious furrows that cut up the immense plains. but all relief was levelled in the intense brilliancy. those large spots that give the appearance of a human face to the moon were scarcely distinguishable. "it may be a face," said michel ardan, "but i am sorry for the amiable sister of apollo, her face is so freckled!" in the meantime the travellers so near their goal ceaselessly watched this new world. their imagination made them take walks over these unknown countries. they climbed the elevated peaks. they descended to the bottom of the large amphitheatres. here and there they thought they saw vast seas scarcely kept together under an atmosphere so rarefied, and streams of water that poured them their tribute from the mountains. leaning over the abyss they hoped to catch the noise of this orb for ever mute in the solitudes of the void. this last day left them the liveliest remembrances. they noted down the least details. a vague uneasiness took possession of them as they approached their goal. this uneasiness would have been doubled if they had felt how slight their speed was. it appeared quite insufficient to take them to the end of their journey. this was because the projectile scarcely "weighed" anything. its weight constantly decreased, and would be entirely annihilated on that line where the lunar and terrestrial attractions neutralise each other, causing surprising effects. nevertheless, in spite of his preoccupations, michel ardan did not forget to prepare the morning meal with his habitual punctuality. they ate heartily. nothing was more excellent than their broth liquefied by the heat of the gas. nothing better than these preserved meats. a few glasses of good french wine crowned the repast, and caused michel ardan to remark that the lunar vines, warmed by this ardent sun, ought to distil the most generous wines--that is, if they existed. any way, the far-seeing frenchman had taken care not to forget in his collection some precious cuttings of the médoc and côte d'or, upon which he counted particularly. the reiset and regnault apparatus always worked with extreme precision. the air was kept in a state of perfect purity. not a particle of carbonic acid resisted the potash, and as to the oxygen, that, as captain nicholl said, was of "first quality." the small amount of humidity in the projectile mixed with this air and tempered its dryness, and many paris, london, or new york apartments and many theatres do not certainly fulfil hygienic conditions so well. but in order to work regularly this apparatus had to be kept going regularly. each morning michel inspected the escape regulators, tried the taps, and fixed by the pyrometer the heat of the gas. all had gone well so far, and the travellers, imitating the worthy j.t. maston, began to get so stout that they would not be recognisable if their imprisonment lasted several months. they behaved like chickens in a cage--they fattened. looking through the port lights barbicane saw the spectre of the dog, and the different objects thrown out of the projectile, which obstinately accompanied it. diana howled lamentably when she perceived the remains of satellite. all the things seemed as motionless as if they had rested upon solid ground. "do you know, my friends," said michel ardan, "that if one of us had succumbed to the recoil shock at departure we should have been much embarrassed as to how to get rid of him? you see the accusing corpse would have followed us in space like remorse!" "that would have been sad," said nicholl. "ah!" continued michel, "what i regret is our not being able to take a walk outside. what delight it would be to float in this radiant ether, to bathe in these pure rays of the sun! if barbicane had only thought of furnishing us with diving-dresses and air-pumps i should have ventured outside, and have assumed the attitude of a flying-horse on the summit of the projectile." "ah, old fellow!" answered barbicane, "you would not have stayed there long in spite of your diving-dress; you would have burst like an obus by the expansion of air inside you, or rather like a balloon that goes up too high. so regret nothing, and do not forget this: while we are moving in the void you must do without any sentimental promenade out of the projectile." michel ardan allowed himself to be convinced in a certain measure. he agreed that the thing was difficult, but not "impossible;" that was a word he never uttered. the conversation passed from this subject to another, and never languished an instant. it seemed to the three friends that under these conditions ideas came into their heads like leaves in the first warm days of spring. amidst the questions and answers that crossed each other during this morning, nicholl asked one that did not get an immediate solution. "i say," said he, "it is all very well to go to the moon, but how shall we get back again?" "what do you mean by that, nicholl?" asked barbicane gravely. "it seems to me very inopportune to ask about getting away from a country before you get to it," added michel. "i don't ask that question because i want to draw back, but i repeat my question, and ask, 'how shall we get back?'" "i have not the least idea," answered barbicane. "and as for me," said michel, "if i had known how to come back i should not have gone." "that is what you call answering," cried nicholl. "i approve of michel's words, and add that the question has no actual interest. we will think about that later on, when we want to return. though the columbiad will not be there, the projectile will." "much good that will be, a bullet without a gun!" "a gun can be made, and so can powder! neither metal, saltpetre, nor coal can be wanting in the bowels of the moon. besides, in order to return you have only the lunar attraction to conquer, and you will only have 8,000 leagues to go so as to fall on the terrestrial globe by the simple laws of weight." "that is enough," said michel, getting animated. "let us hear no more about returning. as to communicating with our ancient colleagues upon earth, that will not be difficult." "how are we to do that, pray?" "by means of meteors hurled by the lunar volcanoes." "a good idea, michel," answered barbicane. "laplace has calculated that a force five times superior to that of our cannons would suffice to send a meteor from the moon to the earth. now there is no volcano that has not a superior force of propulsion." "hurrah!" cried michel. "meteors will be convenient postmen and will not cost anything! and how we shall laugh at the postal service! but now i think--" "what do you think?" "a superb idea! why did we not fasten a telegraph wire to our bullet? we could have exchanged telegrams with the earth!" "and the weight of a wire 86,000 leagues long," answered nicholl, "does that go for nothing?" "yes, for nothing! we should have trebled the charge of the columbiad! we could have made it four times--five times--greater!" cried michel, whose voice became more and more violent. "there is a slight objection to make to your project," answered barbicane. "it is that during the movement of rotation of the globe our wire would have been rolled round it like a chain round a windlass, and it would inevitably have dragged us down to the earth again." "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 now i think of it, if we do not return to earth j.t. maston will certainly come to us!" "yes! he will come," replied barbicane; "he is a worthy and courageous comrade. besides, what could be easier? is not the columbiad still lying in floridian soil? is cotton and nitric acid wanting wherewith to manufacture the projectile? will not the moon again pass the zenith of florida? in another eighteen years will she not occupy exactly the same place that she occupies to-day?" "yes," repeated michel--"yes, maston will come, and with him our friends elphinstone, blomsberry, and all the members of the gun club, and they will be welcome! later on trains of projectiles will be established between the earth and the moon! hurrah for j.t. maston!" it is probable that if the honourable j.t. maston did not hear the hurrahs uttered in his honour his ears tingled at least. what was he doing then? he was no doubt stationed in the rocky mountains at long's peak, trying to discover the invisible bullet gravitating in space. if he was thinking of his dear companions it must be acknowledged that they were not behindhand with him, and that, under the influence of singular exaltation, they consecrated their best thoughts to him. but whence came the animation that grew visibly greater in the inhabitants of the projectile? their sobriety could not be questioned. must this strange erethismus of the brain be attributed to the exceptional circumstances of the time, to that proximity of the queen of night from which a few hours only separated them, or to some secret influence of the moon acting on their nervous system? their faces became as red as if exposed to the reverberation of a furnace; their respiration became more active, and their lungs played like forge-bellows; their eyes shone with extraordinary flame, and their voices became formidably loud, their words escaped like a champagne-cork driven forth by carbonic acid gas; their gestures became disquieting, they wanted so much room to perform them in. and, strange to say, they in no wise perceived this excessive tension of the mind. "now," said nicholl in a sharp tone--"now that i do not know whether we shall come back from the moon, i will know what we are going there for!" "what we are going there for!" answered barbicane, stamping as if he were in a fencing-room; "i don't know." "you don't know!" cried michel with a shout that provoked a sonorous echo in the projectile. "no, i have not the least idea!" answered barbicane, shouting in unison with his interlocutor. "well, then, i know," answered michel. "speak, then," said nicholl, who could no longer restrain the angry tones of his voice. "i shall speak if it suits me!" cried michel, violently seizing his companion's arm. "it must suit you!" said barbicane, with eyes on fire and threatening hands. "it was you who drew us into this terrible journey, and we wish to know why!" "yes," said the captain, "now i don't know where i am going, i will know why i am going." "why?" cried 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 colonise the lunar regions, to cultivate them, people them, to take them all the wonders of art, science, and industry! to civilise the selenites, unless they are more civilised than we are, and to make them into a republic if they have not already done it for themselves!" "if there are any selenites!" answered nicholl, who under the empire of this inexplicable intoxication became very contradictory. "who says there are no selenites?" cried michel in a threatening tone. "i do!" shouted nicholl. "captain," said michel, "do not repeat that insult or i will knock your teeth down your throat!" the two adversaries were about to rush upon one another, and this incoherent discussion was threatening to degenerate into a battle, when barbicane interfered. "stop, unhappy men," said he, putting his two companions back to back, "if there are no selenites, we will do without them!" "yes!" exclaimed michel, who did not care more about them than that. "we have nothing to do with the selenites! bother the selenites!" "the empire of the moon shall be ours," said nicholl. "let us found a republic of three!" "i shall be the congress," cried michel. "and i the senate," answered nicholl. "and barbicane the president," shouted michel. "no president elected by the nation!" answered barbicane. "well, then, a president elected by the congress," exclaimed michel; "and as i am the congress i elect you unanimously." "hurrah! hurrah! hurrah for president barbicane!" exclaimed nicholl. "hip--hip--hip! hurrah!" vociferated michel ardan. then the president and senate struck up "yankee doodle" as loudly as they could, whilst the congress shouted the virile "marseillaise." then began a frantic dance with maniacal gestures, mad stamping, and somersaults of boneless clowns. diana took part in the dance, howling too, and jumped to the very roof of the projectile. an inexplicable flapping of wings and cock-crows of singular sonority were heard. five or six fowls flew about striking the walls like mad bats. then the three travelling companions, whose lungs were disorganised under some incomprehensible influence, more than intoxicated, burnt by the air that had set their breathing apparatus on fire, fell motionless upon the bottom of the projectile. chapter viii. at seventy-eight thousand one hundred and fourteen leagues. what had happened? what was the cause of that singular intoxication, the consequences of which might prove so disastrous? simply carelessness on michel's part, which nicholl was able to remedy in time. after a veritable swoon, which lasted a few minutes, the captain, who was the first to regain consciousness, soon collected his intellectual faculties. although he had breakfasted two hours before, he began to feel as hungry as if he had not tasted food for several days. his whole being, his brain and stomach, were excited to the highest point. he rose, therefore, and demanded a supplementary collation from michel, who was still unconscious, and did not answer. nicholl, therefore, proceeded to prepare some cups of tea, in order to facilitate the absorption of a dozen sandwiches. he busied himself first with lighting a fire, and so struck a match. what was his surprise to see the sulphur burn with extraordinary and almost unbearable brilliancy! from the jet of gas he lighted rose a flame equal to floods of electric light. a revelation took place in nicholl's mind. this intensity of light, the physiological disturbance in himself, the extra excitement of all his moral and sensitive faculties--he understood it all. "the oxygen!" he exclaimed. and leaning over the air-apparatus, he saw that the tap was giving out a flood of colourless, savourless, and odourless gas, eminently vital, but which in a pure state produces the gravest disorders in the constitution. through carelessness michel had left the tap full on. nicholl made haste to turn off this flow of oxygen with which the atmosphere was saturated, and which would have caused the death of the travellers, not by suffocation, but by combustion. an hour afterwards the air was relieved, and gave their normal play to the lungs. by degrees the three friends recovered from their intoxication; but they were obliged to recover from their oxygen like a drunkard from his wine. when michel knew his share of responsibility in this incident he did not appear in the least disconcerted. this unexpected intoxication broke the monotony of the journey. many foolish things had been said under its influence, but they had been forgotten as soon as said. "then," added the merry frenchman, "i am not sorry for having experienced the effect of this captious gas. do you know, my friends, that there might be a curious establishment set up with oxygen-rooms, where people whose constitutions are weak might live a more active life during a few hours at least? suppose we had meetings where the air could be saturated with this heroic fluid, theatres where the managers would send it out in strong doses, what passion there would be in the souls of actors and spectators, what fire and what enthusiasm! and if, instead of a simple assembly, a whole nation could be saturated with it, what activity, what a supplement of life it would receive! of an exhausted nation it perhaps would make a great and strong nation, and i know more than one state in old europe that ought to put itself under the oxygen _régime_ in the interest of its health." michel spoke with as much animation as if the tap were still full on. but with one sentence barbicane damped his enthusiasm. "all that is very well, friend michel," he said, "but now perhaps you will tell us where those fowls that joined in our concert came from." "those fowls?" "yes." in fact, half-a-dozen hens and a superb cock were flying hither and thither. "ah, the stupids!" cried michel. "it was the oxygen that put them in revolt." "but what are you going to do with those fowls?" asked barbicane. "acclimatise them in the moon of course! for the sake of a joke, my worthy president; simply a joke that has unhappily come to nothing! i wanted to let them out on the lunar continent without telling you! how astounded you would have been to see these terrestrial poultry pecking the fields of the moon!" "ah, _gamin_, you eternal boy!" answered barbicane, "you don't want oxygen to make you out of your senses! you are always what we were under the influence of this gas! you are always insane!" "ah! how do we know we were not wiser then?" replied michel ardan. after this philosophical reflection the three friends repaired the disorder in the projectile. cock and hens were put back in their cage. but as they were doing this barbicane and his two companions distinctly perceived a fresh phenomenon. since the moment they had left the earth their own weight, that of the bullet and the objects it contained, had suffered progressive diminution. though they could not have any experience of this in the projectile, a moment must come when the effect upon themselves and the tools and instruments they used would be felt. of course scales would not have indicated this loss of weight, for the weights used would have lost precisely as much as the object itself; but a spring weighing-machine, the tension of which is independent of attraction, would have given the exact valuation of this diminution. it is well known that attraction, or weight, is in proportion to the bulk, and in inverse proportion to the square of distances. hence this consequence. if the earth had been alone in space, if the other heavenly bodies were to be suddenly annihilated, the projectile, according to newton's law, would have weighed less according to its distance from the earth, but without ever losing its weight entirely, for the terrestrial attraction would always have made itself felt, no matter at what distance. but in the case with which we are dealing, a moment must come when the projectile would not be at all under the law of gravitation, after allowing for the other celestial bodies, whose effect could not be set down as zero. in fact, the trajectory of the projectile was between the earth and the moon. as it went farther away from the earth terrestrial attraction would be diminished in inverse proportion to the square of distances, but the lunar attraction would be augmented in the same proportion. a point must, therefore, be reached where these two attractions would neutralise each other, and the bullet would have no weight at all. if the volumes of the moon and earth were equal, this point would have been reached at an equal distance between the two bodies. but by taking their difference of bulk into account it was easy to calculate that this point would be situated at 47/52 of the journey, or at 78,114 leagues from the earth. at this point a body that had no principle of velocity or movement in itself would remain eternally motionless, being equally attracted by the two heavenly bodies, and nothing drawing it more towards one than the other. now if the force of impulsion had been exactly calculated the projectile ought to reach that point with no velocity, having lost all weight like the objects it contained. what would happen then? three hypotheses presented themselves. either the projectile would have kept some velocity, and passing the point of equal attraction, would fall on the moon by virtue of the excess of lunar attraction over terrestrial attraction. or velocity sufficient to reach the neutral point being wanting, it would fall back on the earth by virtue of the excess of terrestrial attraction over lunar attraction. or lastly, endowed with sufficient velocity to reach the neutral point, but insufficient to pass it, it would remain eternally suspended in the same place, like the pretended coffin of mahomet, between the zenith and nadir. such was the situation, and barbicane clearly explained the consequences to his travelling companions. they were interested to the highest degree. how were they to know when they had reached this neutral point, situated at 78,114 leagues from the earth, at the precise moment when neither they nor the objects contained in the projectile should be in any way subject to the laws of weight? until now the travellers, though they had remarked that this action diminished little by little, had not yet perceived its total absence. but that day, about 11 a.m., nicholl having let a tumbler escape from his hand, instead of falling, it remained suspended in the air. "ah!" cried michel ardan, "this is a little amusing chemistry!" and immediately different objects, weapons, bottles, &c, left to themselves, hung suspended as if by miracle. diana, too, lifted up by michel into space, reproduced, but without trickery, the marvellous suspensions effected by robert-houdin and maskelyne and cook. the three adventurous companions, surprised and stupefied in spite of their scientific reasoning, carried into the domain of the marvellous, felt weight go out of their bodies. when they stretched out their arms they felt no inclination to drop them. their heads vacillated on their shoulders. their feet no longer kept at the bottom of the projectile. they were like staggering drunkards. imagination has created men deprived of their reflection, others deprived of their shadows! but here reality, by the neutrality of active forces, made men in whom nothing had any weight, and who weighed nothing themselves. suddenly michel, making a slight spring, left the floor and remained suspended in the air like the good monk in murillo's _cuisine des anges_. his two friends joined him in an instant, and all three, in the centre of the projectile, figured a miraculous ascension. "is it believable? is it likely? is it possible?" cried michel. "no. and yet it exists! ah! if raphael could have seen us like this what an assumption he could have put upon canvas!" "the assumption cannot last," answered barbicane. "if the projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar attraction will draw us to the moon." "then our feet will rest upon the roof of the projectile,' answered michel. "no," said barbicane, "because the centre of gravity in the projectile is very low, and it will turn over gradually." "then all our things will be turned upside down for certain!" "do not alarm yourself, michel," answered nicholl. "there is nothing of the kind to be feared. not an object will move; the projectile will turn insensibly." "in fact," resumed barbicane, "when it has cleared the point of equal attraction, its bottom, relatively heavier, will drag it perpendicularly down to the moon. but in order that such a phenomenon should take place we must pass the neutral line." "passing the neutral line!" cried michel. "then let us do like the sailors who pass the equator--let us water our passage!" a slight side movement took michel to the padded wall. thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them "in space" before his companions, and merrily touching glasses, they saluted the line with a triple hurrah. this influence of the attractions lasted scarcely an hour. the travellers saw themselves insensibly lowered towards the bottom, and barbicane thought he remarked that the conical end of the projectile deviated slightly from the normal direction towards the moon. by an inverse movement the bottom side approached it. lunar attraction was therefore gaining over terrestrial attraction. the fall towards the moon began, insensibly as yet; it could only be that of a millimetre (0.03937 inch), and a third in the first second. but the attractive force would gradually increase, the fall would be more accentuated, the projectile, dragged down by its bottom side, would present its cone to the earth, and would fall with increasing velocity until it reached the selenite surface. now nothing could prevent the success of the enterprise, and nicholl and michel ardan shared barbicane's joy. then they chatted about all the phenomena that had astounded them one after another, especially about the neutralisation of the laws of weight. michel ardan, always full of enthusiasm, wished to deduce consequences which were only pure imagination. "ah! my worthy friends," he cried, "what progress we should make could we but get rid upon earth of this weight, this chain that rivets us to her! it would be the prisoner restored to liberty! there would be no more weariness either in arms or legs. and if it is true that, in order to fly upon the surface of the earth, to sustain yourself in the air by a simple action of the muscles, it would take a force 150 times superior to that we possess, a simple act of will, a caprice, would transport us into space, and attraction would not exist." "in fact," said nicholl, laughing, "if they succeeded in suppressing gravitation, like pain is suppressed by anaesthesia, it would change the face of modern society!" "yes," cried michel, full of his subject, "let us destroy weight and have no more burdens! no more cranes, screw-jacks, windlasses, cranks, or other machines will be wanted." "well said," replied barbicane; "but if nothing had any weight nothing would keep in its place, not even the hat on your head, worthy michel; nor your house, the stones of which only adhere by their weight! not even ships, whose stability upon the water is only a consequence of weight. not even the ocean, whose waves would no longer be held in equilibrium by terrestrial attraction. lastly, not even the atmosphere, the molecules of which, being no longer held together, would disperse into space!" "that is a pity," replied michel. "there is nothing like positive people for recalling you brutally to reality!" "nevertheless, console yourself, michel," resumed barbicane, "for if no star could exist from which the laws of weight were banished, you are at least going to pay a visit where gravity is much less than upon earth." "the moon?" "yes, the moon, on the surface of which objects weigh six times less than upon the surface of the earth, a phenomenon very easy to demonstrate." "and shall we perceive it?" asked michel. "evidently, for 400 lbs. only weigh 60 lbs. on the surface of the moon." "will not our muscular strength be diminished?" "not at all. instead of jumping one yard you will be able to rise six." "then we shall be hercules in the moon," cried michel. "yes," replied nicholl, "and the more so because if the height of the selenites is in proportion to the bulk of their globe they will be hardly a foot high." "liliputians!" replied michel. "then i am going to play the _rôle_ of gulliver! we shall realise the fable of the giants! that is the advantage of leaving one's own planet to visit the solar world!" "but if you want to play gulliver," answered barbicane, "only visit the inferior planets, such as mercury, venus, or mars, whose bulk is rather less than that of the earth. but do not venture into the big planets, jupiter, saturn, uranus, neptune, for there the _rôles_ would be inverted, and you would become liliputian." "and in the sun?" "in the sun, though its density is four times less than that of the earth, its volume is thirteen hundred and twenty-four thousand times greater, and gravitation there is twenty-seven times greater than upon the surface of our globe. every proportion kept, the inhabitants ought on an average to be two hundred feet high." "the devil!" exclaimed michel. "i should only be a pigmy!" "gulliver amongst the giants," said nicholl. "just so," answered barbicane. "it would not have been a bad thing to carry some pieces of artillery to defend oneself with." "good," replied barbicane; "your bullets would have no effect on the sun, and they would fall to the ground in a few minutes." "that's saying a great deal!" "it is a fact," answered barbicane. "gravitation is so great on that enormous planet that an object weighing 70 lbs. on the earth would weigh 1,930 lbs. on the surface of the sun. your hat would weigh 20 lbs.! your cigar 1/2 lb.! lastly, if you fell on the solar continent your weight would be so great--about 5,000 lbs.--that you could not get up again." "the devil!" said michel, "i should have to carry about a portable crane! well, my friends, let us be content with the moon for to-day. there, at least, we shall cut a great figure! later on we shall see if we will go to the sun, where you can't drink without a crane to lift the glass to your mouth." chapter ix. the consequences of deviation. barbicane had now no fear, if not about the issue of the journey, at least about the projectile's force of impulsion. its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral line. therefore it would not return to the earth nor remain motionless upon the point of attraction. one hypothesis only remained to be realised, the arrival of the bullet at its goal under the action of lunar attraction. in reality it was a fall of 8,296 leagues upon a planet, it is true, where the gravity is six times less than upon the earth. nevertheless it would be a terrible fall, and one against which all precautions ought to be taken without delay. these precautions were of two sorts; some were for the purpose of deadening the shock at the moment the projectile would touch lunar ground; others were to retard the shock, and so make it less violent. in order to deaden the shock, it was a pity that barbicane was no longer able to employ the means that had so usefully weakened the shock at departure--that is to say, the water used as a spring and the movable partitions. the partitions still existed, but water was wanting, for they could not use the reserve for this purpose--that would be precious in case the liquid element should fail on the lunar soil. besides, this reserve would not have been sufficient for a spring. the layer of water stored in the projectile at their departure, and on which lay the waterproof disc, occupied no less than three feet in depth, and spread over a surface of not less than fifty-four feet square. now the receptacles did not contain the fifth part of that. they were therefore obliged to give up this effectual means of deadening the shock. fortunately barbicane, not content with employing water, had furnished the movable disc with strong spring buffers, destined to lessen the shock against the bottom, after breaking the horizontal partitions. these buffers were still in existence; they had only to be fitted on and the movable disc put in its place. all these pieces, easy to handle, as they weighed scarcely anything, could be rapidly mounted. this was done. the different pieces were adjusted without difficulty. it was only a matter of bolts and screws. there were plenty of tools. the disc was soon fixed on its steel buffers like a table on its legs. one inconvenience resulted from this arrangement. the lower port-hole was covered, and it would be impossible for the travellers to observe the moon through that opening whilst they were being precipitated perpendicularly upon her. but they were obliged to give it up. besides, through the lateral openings they could still perceive the vast lunar regions, like the earth is seen from the car of a balloon. this placing of the disc took an hour's work. it was more than noon when the preparations were completed. barbicane made fresh observations on the inclination of the projectile, but to his great vexation it had not turned sufficiently for a fall; it appeared to be describing a curve parallel with the lunar disc. the queen of night was shining splendidly in space, whilst opposite the orb of day was setting her on fire with his rays. this situation soon became an anxious one. "shall we get there?" said nicholl. "we must act as though we should," answered barbicane. "you are faint-hearted fellows," replied michel ardan. "we shall get there, and quicker than we want." this answer recalled barbicane to his preparations, and he occupied himself with placing the contrivances destined to retard the fall. it will be remembered that, at the meeting held in tampa town, florida, captain nicholl appeared as barbicane's enemy, and michel ardan's adversary. when captain nicholl said that the projectile would be broken like glass, michel answered that he would retard the fall by means of fusees properly arranged. in fact, powerful fusees, resting upon the bottom, and being fired outside, might, by producing a recoil action, lessen the speed of the bullet. these fusees were to burn in the void it is true, but oxygen would not fail them, for they would furnish that themselves like the lunar volcanoes, the deflagration of which has never been prevented by the want of atmosphere around the moon. barbicane had therefore provided himself with fireworks shut up in little cannons of bored steel, which could be screwed on to the bottom of the projectile. inside these cannons were level with the bottom; outside they went half a foot beyond it. there were twenty of them. an opening in the disc allowed them to light the match with which each was provided. all the effect took place outside. the exploding mixture had been already rammed into each gun. all they had to do, therefore, was to take up the metallic buffers fixed in the base, and to put these cannons in their place, where they fitted exactly. this fresh work was ended about 3 p.m., and all precaution taken they had now nothing to do but to wait. in the meantime the projectile visibly drew nearer the moon. it was, therefore, submitted in some proportion to its influence; but its own velocity also inclined it in an oblique line. perhaps the result of these two influences would be a line that would become a tangent. but it was certain that the projectile was not falling normally upon the surface of the moon, for its base, by reason of its weight, ought to have been turned towards her. barbicane's anxiety was increased on seeing that his bullet resisted the influence of gravitation. it was the unknown that was before him--the unknown of the interstellar regions. he, the _savant_, believed that he had foreseen the only three hypotheses that were possible--the return to the earth, the fall upon the moon, or stagnation upon the neutral line! and here a fourth hypothesis, full of all the terrors of the infinite, cropped up inopportunely. to face it without flinching took a resolute _savant_ like barbicane, a phlegmatic being like nicholl, or an audacious adventurer like michel ardan. conversation was started on this subject. other men would have considered the question from a practical point of view. they would have wondered where the projectile would take them to. not they, however. they sought the cause that had produced this effect. "so we are off the line," said michel. "but how is that?" "i am very much afraid," answered nicholl, "that notwithstanding all the precautions that were taken, the columbiad was not aimed correctly. the slightest error would suffice to throw us outside the pale of lunar attraction." "then the cannon was pointed badly?" said michel. "i do not think so," answered barbicane. "the cannon was rigorously perpendicular, and its direction towards the zenith of the place was incontestable. the moon passing the zenith, we ought to have reached her at the full. there is another reason, but it escapes me." "perhaps we have arrived too late," suggested nicholl. "too late?" said barbicane. "yes," resumed nicholl. "the notice from the cambridge observatory said that the transit ought to be accomplished in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutes and twenty seconds. that means that before that time the moon would not have reached the point indicated, and after she would have passed it." "agreed," answered barbicane. "but we started on the 1st of december at 11h. 13m. 25s. p.m., and we ought to arrive at midnight on the 5th, precisely as the moon is full. now this is the 5th of december. it is half-past three, and eight hours and a half ought to be sufficient to take us to our goal. why are we not going towards it?" "perhaps the velocity was greater than it ought to have been," answered nicholl, "for we know now that the initial velocity was greater than it was supposed to be." "no! a hundred times no!" replied barbicane. "an excess of velocity, supposing the direction of the projectile to have been correct, would not have prevented us reaching the moon. no! there has been a deviation. we have deviated!" "through whom? through what?" asked nicholl. "i cannot tell," answered barbicane. "well, barbicane," then said michel, "should you like to know what i think about why we have deviated?" "say what you think." "i would not give half a dollar to know! we have deviated, that is a fact. it does not matter much where we are going. we shall soon find out. as we are being carried along into space we shall end by falling into some centre of attraction or another." barbicane could not be contented with this indifference of michel ardan's. not that he was anxious about the future. but what he wanted to know, at any price, was why his projectile had deviated. in the meantime the projectile kept on its course sideways to the moon, and the objects thrown out along with it. barbicane could even prove by the landmarks upon the moon, which was only at 2,000 leagues' distance, that its speed was becoming uniform--a fresh proof that they were not falling. its force of impulsion was prevailing over the lunar attraction, but the trajectory of the projectile was certainly taking them nearer the lunar disc, and it might be hoped that at a nearer point the weight would predominate and provoke a fall. the three friends, having nothing better to do, went on with their observations. they could not, however, yet determine the topography of the satellite. every relief was levelled under the action of the solar rays. they watched thus through the lateral windows until 8 p.m. the moon then looked so large that she hid half the firmament from them. the sun on one side, and the queen of night on the other, inundated the projectile with light. at that moment barbicane thought he could estimate at 700 leagues only the distance that separated them from their goal. the velocity of the projectile appeared to him to be 200 yards a second, or about 170 leagues an hour. the base of the bullet had a tendency to turn towards the moon under the influence of the centripetal force; but the centrifugal force still predominated, and it became probable that the rectilinear trajectory would change to some curve the nature of which could not be determined. barbicane still sought the solution of his insoluble problem. the hours went by without result. the projectile visibly drew nearer to the moon, but it was plain that it would not reach her. the short distance at which it would pass her would be the result of two forces, attractive and repulsive, which acted upon the projectile. "i only pray for one thing," repeated michel, "and that is to pass near enough to the moon to penetrate her secrets." "confound the cause that made our projectile deviate!" cried nicholl. "then," said barbicane, as if he had been suddenly struck with an idea, "confound that asteroid that crossed our path!" "eh?" said michel ardan. "what do you mean?" exclaimed nicholl. "i mean," resumed barbicane, who appeared convinced, "i mean that our deviation is solely due to the influence of that wandering body." "but it did not even graze us," continued michel. "what does that matter? its bulk, compared with that of our projectile, was enormous, and its attraction was sufficient to have an influence upon our direction." "that influence must have been very slight," said nicholl. "yes, nicholl, but slight as it was," answered barbicane, "upon a distance of 84,000 leagues it was enough to make us miss the moon!" chapter x. the observers of the moon. barbicane had evidently found the only plausible reason for the deviation. however slight it had been, it had been sufficient to modify the trajectory of the projectile. it was a fatality. the audacious attempt had miscarried by a fortuitous circumstance, and unless anything unexpected happened, the lunar disc could no longer be reached. would they pass it near enough to resolve certain problems in physics and geology until then unsolved? this was the only question that occupied the minds of these bold travellers. as to the fate the future held in store for them, they would not even think about it. yet what was to become of them amidst these infinite solitudes when air failed them? a few more days and they would fall suffocated in this bullet wandering at hazard. but a few days were centuries to these intrepid men, and they consecrated every moment to observing the moon they no longer hoped to reach. the distance which then separated the projectile from the satellite was estimated at about 200 leagues. under these conditions, as far as regards the visibility of the details of the disc, the travellers were farther from the moon than are the inhabitants of the earth with their powerful telescopes. it is, in fact, known that the instrument set up by lord rosse at parsonstown, which magnifies 6,500 times, brings the moon to within sixteen leagues; and the powerful telescope set up at long's peak magnifies 48,000 times, and brings the moon to within less than two leagues, so that objects twelve yards in diameter were sufficiently distinct. thus, then, at that distance the topographical details of the moon, seen without a telescope, were not distinctly determined. the eye caught the outline of those vast depressions inappropriately called "seas," but they could not determine 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 leaning over a furnace of molten silver, turned from it involuntarily. however, the oblong form of the orb was already clearly seen. it appeared like a gigantic egg, with the small end turned towards the earth. the moon, liquid and pliable in the first days of her formation, was originally a perfect sphere. but soon, drawn within the pale of the earth's gravitation, she became elongated under its influence. by becoming a satellite she lost her native purity of form; her centre of gravity was in advance of the centre of her figure, and from this fact some _savants_ draw the conclusion that air and water might have taken refuge on the opposite side of the moon, which is never seen from the earth. this alteration in the primitive forms of the satellite was only visible for a few moments. the distance between the projectile and the moon diminished visibly; its velocity was considerably less than its initial velocity, but eight or nine times greater than that of our express trains. the oblique direction of the bullet, from its very obliquity, left michel ardan some hope of touching the lunar disc at some point or other. he could not believe that he should not get to it. no, he could not believe it, and this he often repeated. but barbicane, who was a better judge, always answered him with pitiless 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 sends us irresistibly away from it." this was said in a tone that deprived michel ardan of his last hopes. the portion of the moon the projectile was approaching was the northern hemisphere. the selenographic maps make it the lower one, because they are generally drawn up according to the image given by the telescopes, 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, relieved by isolated mountains. at midnight the moon was full. at that precise moment the travellers ought to have set foot upon her if the unlucky asteroid had not made them deviate from their direction. the orb was exactly in the condition rigorously determined by the cambridge observatory. she was mathematically at her perigee, and at the zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel. an observer placed at the bottom of the enormous columbiad while it is pointed perpendicularly at the horizon would have framed the moon in the mouth of the cannon. a straight line drawn through the axis of the piece would have passed through the centre of the moon. it need hardly be stated that during the night between the 5th and 6th of december the travellers did not take a minute's rest. could they have closed their eyes so near to a new world? no. all their feelings were concentrated in one thought--to see! representatives of the earth, of humanity past and present, all concentrated in themselves, it was through their eyes that the human race looked at these lunar regions and penetrated the secrets of its satellite! a strange emotion filled their hearts, and they went silently from one window to another. their observations were noted down by barbicane, and were made rigorously exact. to make them they had telescopes. to control them they had maps. the first observer of the moon was galileo. his poor telescope only magnified thirty times. nevertheless, in the spots that pitted the lunar disc "like eyes in a peacock's tail," he was the first to recognise mountains, and measure some heights to which he attributed, exaggerating, an elevation equal to the 20th of the diameter of the disc, or 8,000 metres. galileo drew up no map of his observations. a few years later an astronomer of dantzig, hevelius--by operations which were only exact twice a month, at the first and second quadrature--reduced galileo's heights to one-twenty-sixth only of the lunar diameter. this was an exaggeration the other way. but it is to this _savant_ that the first map of the moon is due. the light round spots there form circular mountains, and the dark spots indicate vast seas which, in reality, are plains. to these mountains and extents of sea he gave terrestrial denominations. there is a sinai in the middle of an arabia, etna in the centre of sicily, the alps, apennines, carpathians, the mediterranean, the black sea, the caspian, &c.--names badly applied, for neither mountains nor seas recalled the configuration of their namesakes on the globe. that large white spot, joined on the south to vaster continents and terminated in a point, could hardly be recognised as the inverted image of the indian peninsula, the bay of bengal, and cochin-china. so these names were not kept. another chartographer, knowing human nature better, proposed a fresh nomenclature, which human vanity made haste to adopt. this observer was father riccioli, a contemporary of hevelius. he drew up a rough map full of errors. but he gave to the lunar mountains the names of great men of antiquity and _savants_ of his own epoch. a third map of the moon was executed in the seventeenth century by dominique cassini; superior to that of riccioli in the execution, it is inexact in the measurements. several smaller copies were published, but the plate long kept in the _imprimerie nationale_ was sold by weight as old brass. la hire, a celebrated mathematician and designer, drew up a map of the moon four and a half yards high, which was never engraved. after him, a german astronomer, tobie marger, about the middle of the eighteenth century, began the publication of a magnificent selenographic map, according to lunar measures, which he rigorously verified; but his death, which took place in 1762, prevented the termination of this beautiful work. it was in 1830 that messrs. boeer and moedler composed their celebrated _mappa selenographica_, according to an orthographical projection. this map reproduces the exact lunar disc, such as it appears, only the configurations of the mountains and plains are only correct in the central part; everywhere else--in the northern or southern portions, eastern or western--the configurations foreshortened cannot be compared with those of the centre. this topographical map, one yard high and divided into four parts, is a masterpiece of lunar chartography. after these _savants_ may be cited the selenographic reliefs of the german astronomer julius schmidt, the topographical works of father secchi, the magnificent sheets of the english amateur, waren de la rue, and lastly a map on orthographical projection of messrs. lecouturier and chapuis, a fine model set up in 1860, of very correct design and clear outlines. such is the nomenclature of the different maps relating to the lunar world. barbicane possessed two, that of messrs. boeer and moedler and that of messrs. chapuis and lecouturier. they were to make his work of observer easier. they had excellent marine glasses specially constructed for this journey. they magnified objects a hundred times; they would therefore have reduced the distance between the earth and the moon to less than 1,000 leagues. but then at a distance which towards 3 a.m. did not exceed a hundred miles, and in a medium which no atmosphere obstructed, these instruments brought the lunar level to less than fifteen hundred metres. chapter xi. imagination and reality. "have you ever seen the moon?" a professor asked one of his pupils ironically. "no, sir," answered the pupil more ironically still, "but i have heard it spoken of." in one sense the jocose answer of the pupil might have been made by the immense majority of sublunary beings. how many people there are who have heard the moon spoken of and have never seen it--at least through a telescope! how many even have never examined the map of their satellite! looking at a comprehensive selenographic map, one peculiarity strikes us at once. in contrast to the geographical arrangements of the earth and mars, the continents occupy the more southern hemisphere of the lunar globe. these continents have not such clear and regular boundary-lines as those of south america, africa, and the indian peninsula. their angular, capricious, and deeply-indented coasts are rich in gulfs and peninsulas. they recall the confusion in the islands of the sound, where the earth is excessively cut up. if navigation has ever existed upon the surface of the moon it must have been exceedingly difficult and dangerous, and the selenite mariners and hydrographers were greatly to be pitied, the former when they came upon these perilous coasts, the latter when they were marine surveying on the stormy banks. it may also be noticed that upon the lunar spheroid the south pole is much more continental than the north pole. on the latter there is only a slight strip of land capping it, separated from the other continents by vast seas. (when the word "seas" is used the vast plains probably covered by the sea formerly must be understood.) on the south the land covers nearly the whole hemisphere. it is, therefore, possible that the selenites have already planted their flag on one of their poles, whilst franklin, ross, kane, dumont d'urville, and lambert have been unable to reach this unknown point on the terrestrial globe. islands are numerous on the surface of the moon. they are almost all oblong or circular, as though traced with a compass, and seem to form a vast archipelago, like that charming group lying between greece and asia minor which mythology formerly animated with its most graceful legends. involuntarily the names of naxos, tenedos, milo, and carpathos come into the mind, and you seek the ship of ulysses or the "clipper" of the argonauts. that was what it appeared to michel ardan; it was a grecian archipelago that he saw on the map. in the eyes of his less imaginative companions the aspect of these shores recalled rather the cut-up lands of new brunswick and nova scotia; and where the frenchman looked for traces of the heroes of fable, these americans were noting favourable points for the establishment of mercantile houses in the interest of lunar commerce and industry. some remarks on the orographical disposition of the moon must conclude the description of its continents, chains of mountains, isolated mountains, amphitheatres, and watercourses. the moon is like an immense switzerland--a continual norway, where plutonic influence has done everything. this surface, so profoundly rugged, is the result of the successive contractions of the crust while the orb was being formed. the lunar disc is propitious for the study of great geological phenomena. according to the remarks of some astronomers, its surface, although more ancient than the surface of the earth, has remained newer. there there is no water to deteriorate the primitive relief, the continuous action of which produces a sort of general levelling. no air, the decomposing influence of which modifies orographical profiles. there pluto's work, unaltered by neptune's, is in all its native purity. it is the earth as she was before tides and currents covered her with layers of soil. after having wandered over these vast continents the eye is attracted by still vaster seas. not only does their formation, situation, and aspect recall the terrestrial oceans, but, as upon earth, these seas occupy the largest part of the globe. and yet these are not liquid tracts, but plains, the nature of which the travellers hoped soon to determine. astronomers, it must be owned, have decorated these pretended seas with at least odd names which science has respected at present. michel ardan was right when he compared this map to a "map of tenderness," drawn up by scudery or cyrano de bergerac. "only," added he, "it is no longer the map of sentiment like that of the 18th century; it is the map of life, clearly divided into two parts, the one feminine, the other masculine. to the women, the right hemisphere; to the men, the left!" when he spoke thus michel made his prosaic companions shrug their shoulders. barbicane and nicholl looked at the lunar map from another point of view to that of their imaginative friend. however, their imaginative friend had some reason on his side. judge if he had not. in the left hemisphere stretches the "sea of clouds," where human reason is so often drowned. not far off appears the "sea of rains," fed by all the worries of existence. near lies the "sea of tempests," where man struggles incessantly against his too-often victorious passions. then, exhausted by deceptions, treasons, infidelities, and all the procession of terrestrial miseries, what does he find at the end of his career? the vast "sea of humours," scarcely softened by some drops from the waters of the "gulf of dew!" clouds, rain, tempests, humours, does the life of man contain aught but these? and is it not summed up in these four words? the right-hand hemisphere dedicated to "the women" contains smaller seas, the significant names of which agree with every incident of feminine existence. there is the "sea of serenity," over which bends the young maiden, and the "lake of dreams," which reflects her back a happy future. the "sea of nectar," with its waves of tenderness and breezes of love! the "sea of fecundity," the "sea of crises," and the "sea of vapours," the dimensions of which are, perhaps, too restricted, and lastly, that vast "sea of tranquillity" where all false passions, all useless dreams, all unassuaged desires are absorbed, and the waves of which flow peacefully into the "lake of death!" what a strange succession of names! what a singular division of these two hemispheres of the moon, united to one another like man and woman, and forming a sphere of life, carried through space. and was not the imaginative michel right in thus interpreting the fancies of the old astronomers? but whilst his imagination thus ran riot on the "seas," his grave companions were looking at things more geographically. they were learning this new world by heart. they were measuring its angles and diameters. to barbicane and nicholl the "sea of clouds" was an immense depression of ground, with circular mountains scattered about on it; covering a great part of the western side of the southern hemisphere, it covered 184,800 square leagues, and its centre was in south latitude 15°, and west longitude 20°. the ocean of tempests, _oceanus procellarum_, the largest plain on the lunar disc, covered a surface of 328,300 square leagues, its centre being in north latitude 10°, and east longitude 45°. from its bosom emerge the admirable shining mountains of kepler and aristarchus. more to the north, and separated from the sea of clouds by high chains of mountains, extends the sea of rains, _mare imbrium_, having its central point in north latitude 35° and east longitude 20°; it is of a nearly circular form, and covers a space of 193,000 leagues. not far distant the sea of humours, _mare humorum_, a little basin of 44,200 square leagues only, was situated in south latitude 25°, and east longitude 40°. lastly, three gulfs lie on the coast of this hemisphere--the torrid gulf, the gulf of dew, and the gulf of iris, little plains inclosed by high chains of mountains. the "feminine" hemisphere, naturally more capricious, was distinguished by smaller and more numerous seas. these were, towards the north, the _mare frigoris_, in north latitude 55° and longitude 0°, with 76,000 square leagues of surface, which joined the lake of death and lake of dreams; the sea of serenity, _mare serenitatis_, by north latitude 25° and west longitude 20°, comprising a surface of 80,000 square leagues; the sea of crises, _mare crisium_, round and very compact, in north latitude 17° and west longitude 55°, a surface of 40,000 square leagues, a veritable caspian buried in a girdle of mountains. then on the equator, in north latitude 5° and west longitude 25°, appeared the sea of tranquillity, _mare tranquillitatis_, occupying 121,509 square leagues of surface; this sea communicated on the south with the sea of nectar, _mare nectaris_, an extent of 28,800 square leagues, in south latitude 15° and west longitude 35°, and on the east with the sea of fecundity, _mare fecunditatis_, the vastest in this hemisphere, occupying 219,300 square leagues, in south latitude 3° and west longitude 50°. lastly, quite to the north and quite to the south lie two more seas, the sea of humboldt, _mare humboldtianum_, with a surface of 6,500 square leagues, and the southern sea, _mare australe_, with a surface of 26,000. in the centre of the lunar disc, across the equator and on the zero meridian, lies the centre gulf, _sinus medii_, a sort of hyphen between the two hemispheres. thus appeared to the eyes of nicholl and barbicane the surface always visible of the earth's satellite. when they added up these different figures they found that the surface of this hemisphere measured 4,738,160 square leagues, 3,317,600 of which go for volcanoes, chains of mountains, amphitheatres, islands--in a word, all that seems to form the solid portion of the globe--and 1,410,400 leagues for the seas, lake, marshes, and all that seems to form the liquid portion, all of which was perfectly indifferent to the worthy michel. it will be noticed that this hemisphere is thirteen and a-half times smaller than the terrestrial hemisphere. and yet upon it selenographers have already counted 50,000 craters. it is a rugged surface worthy of the unpoetical qualification of "green cheese" which the english have given it. when barbicane pronounced this disobliging name michel ardan gave a bound. "that is how the anglo-saxons of the 19th century treat the beautiful diana, the blonde phoebe, the amiable isis, the charming astarte, the queen of night, the daughter of latona and jupiter, the younger sister of the radiant apollo!" chapter xii. orographical details. it has already been pointed out that the direction followed by the projectile was taking us towards the northern hemisphere of the moon. the travellers were far from that central point which they ought to have touched if their trajectory had not suffered an irremediable deviation. it was half-past twelve at night. barbicane then estimated his distance at 1,400 kilometres, a distance rather greater than the length of the lunar radius, and which must diminish as he drew nearer the north pole. the projectile was then not at the altitude of the equator, but on the tenth parallel, and from that latitude carefully observed on the map as far as the pole, barbicane and his two companions were able to watch the moon under the most favourable circumstances. in fact, by using telescopes, this distance of 1,400 kilometres was reduced to fourteen miles, or four and a-half leagues. the telescope of the rocky mountains brought the moon still nearer, but the terrestrial atmosphere singularly lessened its optical power. thus barbicane, in his projectile, by looking through his glass, could already perceive certain details almost imperceptible to observers on the earth. "my friends," then said the president in a grave voice, "i do not know where we are going, nor whether we shall ever see the terrestrial globe again. nevertheless, let us do our work as if one day it would be of use to our fellow-creatures. let us keep our minds free from all preoccupation. we are astronomers. this bullet is the cambridge observatory transported into space. let us make our observations." that said, the work was begun with extreme precision, and it faithfully reproduced the different aspects of the moon at the variable distances which the projectile reached in relation to that orb. whilst the bullet was at the altitude of the 10th north parallel it seemed to follow the 20th degree of east longitude. here may be placed an important remark on the subject of the map which they used for their observations. in the selenographic maps, where, on account of the reversal of objects by the telescope, the south is at the top and the north at the bottom, it seems natural that the east should be on the left and the west on the right. however, it is not so. if the map were turned upside down, and showed the moon as she appears, the east would be left and the west right, the inverse of the terrestrial maps. the reason of this anomaly is the following:--observers situated in the northern hemisphere--in europe, for example--perceive the moon in the south from them. when they look at her they turn their backs to the north, the opposite position they take when looking at a terrestrial map. their backs being turned to the north, they have the east to the left and the west to the right. for observers in the southern hemisphere--in patagonia, for example--the west of the moon would be on their left and the east on their right, for the south would be behind them. such is the reason for the apparent reversal of these two cardinal points, and this must be remembered whilst following the observations of president barbicane. helped by the _mappa selenographica_ of boeer and moedler, the travellers could, without hesitating, survey that portion of the disc in the field of their telescopes. "what are we looking at now?" asked michel. "at the northern portion of the sea of clouds," answered barbicane. "we are too far off to make out its nature. are those plains composed of dry sand, as the first astronomers believed? or are they only immense forests, according to the opinion of mr. waren de la rue, who grants a very low but very dense atmosphere to the moon? we shall find that out later on. we will affirm nothing till we are quite certain." "this sea of clouds is rather doubtfully traced upon the maps. it is supposed that this vast plain is strewn with blocks of lava vomited by the neighbouring volcanoes on its right side, ptolemy, purbach, and arzachel. the projectile was drawing sensibly nearer, and the summits which close in this sea on the north were distinctly visible. in front rose a mountain shining gloriously, the top of which seemed drowned in the solar rays." "that mountain is--?" asked michel. "copernicus," answered barbicane. "let us have a look at copernicus," said michel. this mountain, situated in north latitude 9°, and east longitude 20°, rises to a height of nearly 11,000 feet above the surface of the moon. it is quite visible from the earth, and astronomers can study it with ease, especially during the phase between the last quarter and the new moon, because then shadows are thrown lengthways from east to west, and allow the altitudes to be taken. copernicus forms the most important radiating system in the southern hemisphere, according to tycho brahe. it rises isolated like a gigantic lighthouse over that of the sea of clouds bordering on the sea of tempests, and it lights two oceans at once with its splendid rays. those long luminous trails, so dazzling at full moon, made a spectacle without an equal; they pass the boundary chains on the north, and stretch as far as the sea of rains. at 1 a.m., terrestrial time, the projectile, like a balloon carried into space, hung over this superb mountain. barbicane could perfectly distinguish its chief features. copernicus is comprehended in the series of annular mountains of the first order in the division of the large amphitheatres. like the mountains of kepler and aristarchus, which overlook the ocean of tempests, it appears sometimes like a brilliant point through the pale light, and used to be taken for a volcano in activity. but it is only an extinct volcano, like those on that side of the moon. its circumference presented a diameter of about twenty-two leagues. the glasses showed traces of stratifications in it produced by successive eruptions, and its neighbourhood appeared strewn with volcanic remains, which were still seen in the crater. "there exist," said barbicane, "several sorts of amphitheatres an the surface of the moon, and it is easy to see that copernicus belongs to the radiating class. if we were nearer it we should perceive the cones which bristle in the interior, and which were formerly so many fiery mouths. a curious arrangement, and one without exception on the lunar disc, is presented on the interior surface of these amphitheatres, being notably downward from the exterior plane, a contrary form to that which terrestrial craters present. it follows, therefore, that the general curvature at the bottom of these amphitheatres gives us fear of an inferior diameter to that of the moon." "what is the reason of this special arrangement?" asked nicholl. "it is not known," answered barbicane. "how splendidly it shines!" said michel. "i think it would be difficult to see a more beautiful spectacle!" "what should you say, then," answered barbicane, "if the chances of our journey should take us towards the southern hemisphere?" "well, i should say it is finer still," replied michel ardan. at that moment the projectile hung right over the amphitheatre. the circumference of copernicus formed an almost perfect circle, and its steep ramparts were clearly defined. a second circular inclosure could even be distinguished. a grey plain of wild aspect spread around on which every relief appeared yellow. at the bottom of the amphitheatre, as if in a jewel-case, sparkled for one instant two or three eruptive cones like enormous dazzling gems. towards the north the sides of the crater were lowered into a depression which would probably have given access to the interior of the crater. as they passed above the surrounding plain barbicane was able to note a large number of mountains of slight importance, amongst others a little circular mountain called "gay-lussac," more than twenty-three kilometres wide. towards the south the plain was very flat, without one elevation or projection of the soil. towards the north, on the contrary, as far as the place where it borders on the ocean of tempests, it was like a liquid surface agitated by a storm, of which the hills and hollows formed a succession of waves suddenly coagulated. over the whole of this, and in all directions, ran the luminous trails which converged to the summit of copernicus. some had a width of thirty kilometres over a length that could not be estimated. the travellers discussed the origin of these strange rays, but they could not determine their nature any better than terrestrial observers. "why," said nicholl, "may not these rays be simply the spurs of the mountains reflecting the light of the sun more vividly?" "no," answered barbicane, "if it were so in certain conditions of the moon they would throw shadows, which they do not." in fact, these rays only appear when the sun is in opposition with the moon, and they disappear as soon as its rays become oblique. "but what explanation of these trails of light have been imagined?" asked michel, "for i cannot believe that _savants_ would ever stop short for want of explanation." "yes," answered barbicane, "herschel has uttered an opinion, but he does not affirm it." "never mind; what is his opinion?" "he thought that these rays must be streams of cold lava which shone when the sun struck them normally." "that may be true, but nothing is less certain. however, if we pass nearer to tycho we shall be in a better position to find out the cause of this radiation." "what do you think that plain is like, seen from the height we are at?" asked michel. "i don't know," answered nicholl. "well, with all these pieces of lava, sharpened like spindles, it looks like 'an immense game of spilikins,' thrown down pell-mell. we only want a hook to draw them up." "be serious for once in your life," said barbicane. "i will be serious," replied michel tranquilly, "and instead of spilikins let us say they are bones. this plain would then be only an immense cemetery upon which would repose the immortal remains of a thousand distinct generations. do you like that comparison better?" "one is as good as the other," answered barbicane. "the devil! you are difficult to please," replied michel. "my worthy friend," resumed the prosaic barbicane, "it does not matter what it looks like when we don't know what it is." "a good answer," exclaimed michel; "that will teach me to argue with _savants_." in the meantime the projectile went with almost uniform speed round the lunar disc. it may be easily imagined that the travellers did not dream of taking a minute's rest. a fresh landscape lay before their eyes every instant. about half-past one in the morning they caught a glimpse of the summit of another mountain. barbicane consulted his map, and recognised eratosthenes. it was a circular mountain 4,500 metres high, one of those amphitheatres so numerous upon the satellite. barbicane informed his friends of kepler's singular opinion upon the formation of these circles. according to the celebrated mathematician, these crateriform cavities had been dug out by the hand of man. "what for?" asked nicholl. "in order to preserve themselves from the ardour of the solar rays, which strike the moon during fifteen consecutive days." "the selenites were not fools!" said michel. "it was a singular idea!" answered nicholl. "but it is probable that kepler did not know the real dimensions of these circles, for digging them would have been giants' labour, impracticable for selenites." "why so, if the weight on the surface of the moon is six times less than upon the surface of the earth?" said michel. "but if the selenites are six times smaller?" replied nicholl. "and if there are no selenites?" added barbicane, which terminated the discussion. eratosthenes soon disappeared from the horizon without the projectile having been sufficiently near it to allow a rigorous observation. this mountain separated the apennines from the carpathians. in lunar orography, several chains of mountains have been distinguished which are principally distributed over the northern hemisphere. some, however, occupy certain portions of the southern hemisphere. the following is a list of these different chains, with their latitudes and the height of their highest summits:- deg. deg. metres. mounts doerfel 84 to 0 s. lat. 7,603 " leibnitz 65 " 0 " 7,600 " rook 20 " 30 " 1,600 " altai 17 " 28 " 4,047 " cordilleras 10 " 20 " 3,898 " pyrenees 8 " 18 " 3,631 " oural 5 " 13 " 838 " alembert 4 " 10 " 5,847 " hoemus 8 " 21 n. lat. 2,021 " carpathians 15 " 19 " 1,939 " apennines 14 " 27 " 5,501 " taurus 21 " 28 " 2,746 " riphees 25 " 33 " 4,171 " hercynians 17 " 29 " 1,170 " caucasia 32 " 41 " 5,567 " alps 42 " 49 " 3,617 the most important of these different chains is that of the apennines, the development of which extends 150 leagues, and is yet inferior to that of the great orographical movements of the earth. the apennines run along the eastern border of the sea of rains, and are continued on the north by the carpathians, the profile of which measures about 100 leagues. the travellers could only catch a glimpse of the summit of these apennines which lie between west long. 10° and east long. 16°; but the chain of the carpathians was visible from 18° to 30° east long., and they could see how they were distributed. one hypothesis seemed to them very justifiable. seeing that this chain of the carpathians was here and there circular in form and with high peaks, they concluded that it anciently formed important amphitheatres. these mountainous circles must have been broken up by the vast cataclysm to which the sea of rains was due. these carpathians looked then what the amphitheatres of purbach, arzachel, and ptolemy would if some cataclysm were to throw down their left ramparts and transform them into continuous chains. they present an average height of 3,200 metres, a height comparable to certain of the pyrenees. their southern slopes fall straight into the immense sea of rains. about 2 a.m. barbicane was at the altitude of the 20th lunar parallel, not far from that little mountain, 1,559 metres high, which bears the name of pythias. the distance from the projectile to the moon was only 1,200 kilometres, brought by means of telescopes to two and a half leagues. the "mare imbrium" lay before the eyes of the travellers like an immense depression of which the details were not very distinct. near them on the left rose mount lambert, the altitude of which is estimated at 1,813 metres, and farther on, upon the borders of the ocean of tempests, in north lat. 23° and east long. 29°, rose the shining mountain of euler. this mountain, which rises only 1,815 metres above the lunar surface, has been the object of an interesting work by the astronomer schroeter. this _savant_, trying to find out the origin of the lunar mountains, asked himself whether the volume of the crater always looked equal to the volume of the ramparts that formed it. now this he found to be generally the case, and he hence concluded that a single eruption of volcanic matter had sufficed to form these ramparts, for successive eruptions would have destroyed the connection. mount euler alone was an exception to this general law, and it must have taken several successive eruptions to form it, for the volume of its cavity is double that of its inclosure. all these hypotheses were allowable to terrestrial observers whose instruments were incomplete; but barbicane was no longer contented to accept them, and seeing that his projectile drew regularly nearer the lunar disc he did not despair of ultimately reaching it, or at least of finding out the secrets of its formation. chapter xiii. lunar landscapes. at half-past two in the morning the bullet was over the 30th lunar parallel at an effective distance of 1,000 kilometres, reduced by the optical instruments to ten. it still seemed impossible that it could reach any point on the disc. its movement of translation, relatively slow, was inexplicable to president barbicane. at that distance from the moon it ought to have been fast in order to maintain it against the power of attraction. the reason of that phenomenon was also inexplicable; besides, time was wanting to seek for the cause. the reliefs on the lunar surface flew beneath their eyes, and they did not want to lose a single detail. the disc appeared through the telescopes at a distance of two and a half leagues. if an aëronaut were taken up that distance from the earth, what would he distinguish upon its surface? no one can tell, as the highest ascensions have not exceeded 8,000 metres. the following, however, is an exact description of what barbicane and his companions saw from that height:-large patches of different colours appeared on the disc. selenographers do not agree about their nature. they are quite distinct from each other. julius schmidt is of opinion that if the terrestrial oceans were dried up, a selenite observer could only tell the difference between the terrestrial oceans and continental plains by patches of colour as distinctly varied as those which a terrestrial observer sees upon the moon. according to him, the colour common to the vast plains, known under the name of "seas," is dark grey, intermingled with green and brown. some of the large craters are coloured in the same way. barbicane knew this opinion of the german selenographer; it is shared by messrs. boeer and moedler. he noticed that they were right, whilst certain astronomers, who only allow grey colouring on the surface of the moon, are wrong. in certain places the green colour was very vivid; according to julius schmidt, it is so in the seas of serenity and humours. barbicane likewise remarked the wide craters with no interior cones, which are of a bluish colour, analogous to that of fresh-polished sheets of steel. these colours really belonged to the lunar disc, and did not result, as certain astronomers think, either from some imperfection in the object-glasses of the telescopes or the interposition of the terrestrial atmosphere. barbicane had no longer any doubt about it. he was looking at it through the void, and could not commit any optical error. he considered that the existence of this different colouring was proved to science. now were the green shades owing to tropical vegetation, kept up by a low and dense atmosphere? he could not yet be certain. farther on he noticed a reddish tinge, quite sufficiently distinct. a similar colour had already been observed upon the bottom of an isolated inclosure, known under the name of the lichtenberg amphitheatre, which is situated near the hercynian mountains, on the border of the moon. but he could not make out its nature. he was not more fortunate about another peculiarity of the disc, for he could not find out its cause. the peculiarity was the following one:-michel ardan was watching near the president when he remarked some long white lines brilliantly lighted up by the direct rays of the sun. it was a succession of luminous furrows, very different from the radiation that copernicus had presented. they ran in parallel lines. michel, with his usual readiness, exclaimed-"why, there are cultivated fields!" "cultivated fields!" repeated nicholl, shrugging his shoulders. "ploughed fields, at all events," replied michel ardan. "but what ploughmen these selenites must be, and what gigantic oxen they must harness to their ploughs, to make such furrows!" "they are not furrows, they are crevices!" "crevices let them be," answered michel with docility. "only what do you mean by crevices in the world of science?" barbicane soon told his companions all he knew about lunar crevices. he knew that they were furrows observed upon all the non-mountainous parts of the lunar disc; that these furrows, generally isolated, were from four to five leagues only; that their width varies from 1,000 to 1,500 metres, and their edges are rigorously parallel. but he knew nothing more about their formation or their nature. barbicane watched these furrows through his telescope very attentively. he noticed that their banks were exceedingly steep. they were long parallel ramparts; with a little imagination they might be taken for long lines of fortifications raised by selenite engineers. some of these furrows were as straight as if they had been cut by line, others were slightly curved through with edges still parallel. some crossed each other. some crossed craters. some furrowed the circular cavities, such as posidonius or petavius. some crossed the seas, notably the sea of serenity. these accidents of nature had naturally exercised the imagination of terrestrial astronomers. the earliest observations did not discover these furrows. neither hevelius, cassini, la hire, nor herschel seems to have known them. it was schroeter who in 1789 first attracted the attention of _savants_ to them. others followed who studied them, such as pastorff, gruithuysen, boeer, and moedler. at present there are seventy-six; but though they have been counted, their nature has not yet been determined. they are not fortifications certainly, anymore than they are beds of dried-up rivers, for water so light on the surface of the moon could not have dug such ditches, and there furrows often cross craters at a great elevation. it must, however, be acknowledged that michel ardan had an idea, and that, without knowing it, he shared it with julius schmidt. "why," said he, "may not these inexplicable appearances be simply phenomena of vegetation?" "in what way do you mean?" asked barbicane. "now do not be angry, worthy president," answered michel, "but may not these black lines be regular rows of trees?" "do you want to find some vegetation?" said barbicane. "i want to explain what you scientific men do not explain! my hypothesis will at least explain why these furrows disappear, or seem to disappear, at regular epochs." "why should they?" "because trees might become invisible when they lose their leaves, and visible when they grow again." "your explanation is ingenious, old fellow," answered barbicane, "but it cannot be admitted." "why?" "because it cannot be said to be any season on the surface of the moon, and, consequently, the phenomena of vegetation on the surface of the moon cannot be produced." in fact, the slight obliquity of the lunar axis keeps the sun there at an almost equal altitude under every latitude. above the equatorial regions the radiant orb almost invariably occupies the zenith, and hardly passes the limit of the horizon in the polar regions. therefore, in each region, according to its position, there reigns perpetual spring, summer, autumn, or winter, as in the planet jupiter, whose axis is also slightly inclined upon its orbit. the origin of these furrows is a difficult question to solve. they are certainly posterior to the formation of the craters and amphitheatres, for several have crossed them, and broken their circular ramparts. it may be that they are contemporary with the latest geographical epochs, and are only owing to the expansion of natural forces. in the meantime the projectile had reached the altitude of the 40th degree of lunar latitude at a distance that could not be greater than 800 kilometres. objects appeared through the telescopes at two leagues only. at this point rose under their feet the helicon, 505 metres high, and on the left were the mediocre heights, which inclose a small portion of the sea of rains under the name of the gulf of iris. the terrestrial atmosphere ought to be 170 times more transparent than it is in order to allow astronomers to make complete observations on the surface of the moon. but in the void the projectile was moving in no fluid lay between the eye of the observer and the object observed. what is more, barbicane was at a less distance than the most powerful telescopes, even that of lord rosse or the one on the rocky mountains, could give. it was, therefore, in circumstances highly favourable for solving the great question of the habitability of the moon. yet the solution of this question escaped him still. he could only distinguish the deserted beds of the immense plains, and, towards the north, arid mountains. no labour betrayed the hand of man. no ruin indicated his passage. no agglomeration of animals indicated that life was developed there, even in an inferior degree. there was no movement anywhere, no appearance of vegetation anywhere. of the three kingdoms represented on the terrestrial globe, one only was represented on that of the moon--viz., the mineral kingdom. "so," said michel ardan, looking rather put out, "there is nobody after all." "no," answered nicholl; "we have seen neither man, animal, nor tree as yet. after all, if the atmosphere has taken refuge at the bottom of cavities, in the interior of the amphitheatres, or even on the opposite face of the moon, we cannot decide the question." "besides," added barbicane, "even for the most piercing sight a man is not visible at a distance of more than four miles. therefore if there are any selenites they can see our projectile, but we cannot see them." about 11 a.m., at the altitude of the 50th parallel, the distance was reduced to 300 miles. on the left rose the capricious outlines of a chain of mountains, outlined in full light. towards the right, on the contrary, was a large black hole like a vast dark and bottomless well bored in the lunar soil. that hole was the black lake, or pluto, a deep circle from which the earth could be conveniently studied between the last quarter and the new moon, when the shadows are thrown from west to east. this black colour is rarely met with on the surface of the satellite. it has, as yet, only been seen in the depths of the circle of endymion, to the east of the cold sea, in the northern hemisphere, and at the bottom of the circle of grimaldi upon the equator towards the eastern border of the orb. pluto is a circular mountain, situated in north lat. 51° and east long. 9°. its circle is fifty miles long and thirty wide. barbicane regretted not passing perpendicularly over this vast opening. there was an abyss to see, perhaps some mysterious phenomenon to become acquainted with. but the course of the projectile could not be guided. there was nothing to do but submit. a balloon could not be guided, much less a projectile when you are inside. about 5 a.m. the northern limit of the sea of rains was at last passed. mounts la condamine and fontenelle remained, the one on the left, the other on the right. that part of the disc, starting from the 60th degree, became absolutely mountainous. the telescopes brought it to within one league, an inferior distance to that between the summit of mont blanc and the sea level. all this region was bristling with peaks and amphitheatres. mount philolaus rose about the 70th degree to a height of 3,700 metres, opening an elliptical crater sixteen leagues long and four wide. then the disc, seen from that distance, presented an exceedingly strange aspect. the landscapes were very different to earthly ones, and also very inferior. the moon having no atmosphere, this absence of vaporous covering had consequences already pointed out. there is no twilight on its surface, night following day and day following night, with the suddenness of a lamp extinguished or lighted in profound darkness. there is no transition from cold to heat: the temperature falls in one instant from boiling water heat to the cold of space. another consequence of this absence of air is the following:--absolute darkness reigns where the sun's rays do not penetrate. what is called diffused light upon the earth, the luminous matter that the air holds in suspension, which creates twilights and dawns, which produces shadows, penumbrae, and all the magic of the chiaro-oscuro, does not exist upon the moon. hence the harshness of contrasts that only admit two colours, black and white. if a selenite shades his eyes from the solar rays the sky appears absolutely dark, and the stars shine as in the darkest nights. the impression produced on barbicane and his two friends by this strange state of things may well be imagined. they did not know how to use their eyes. they could no longer seize the respective distances in perspective. a lunar landscape, which does not soften the phenomenon of the chiaro-oscuro, could not be painted by a landscape-painter of the earth. it would be nothing but blots of ink upon white paper. this aspect of things did not alter even when the projectile, then at the altitude of the 80th degree, was only separated from the moon by a distance of fifty miles, not even when, at 5 a.m., it passed at less than twenty-five miles from the mountain of gioja, a distance which the telescopes reduced to half-a-mile. it seemed as if they could have touched the moon. it appeared impossible that before long the projectile should not knock against it, if only at the north pole, where the brilliant mountains were clearly outlined against the dark background of the sky. michel ardan wanted to open one of the port-lights and jump upon the lunar surface. what was a fall of twelve leagues? he thought nothing of that. it would, however, have been a useless attempt, for if the projectile was not going to reach any point on the satellite, michel would have been hurled along by its movement, and not have reached it either. at that moment, 6 a.m., the lunar pole appeared. only half the disc, brilliantly lighted, appeared to the travellers, whilst the other half disappeared in the darkness. the projectile suddenly passed the line of demarcation between intense light and absolute darkness, and was suddenly plunged into the profoundest night. chapter xiv. a night of three hundred and fifty-four hours and a half. at the moment this phenomenon took place the projectile was grazing the moon's north pole, at less that twenty-five miles' distance. a few seconds had, therefore, sufficed to plunge it into the absolute darkness of space. the transition had taken place so rapidly, without gradations of light or attenuation of the luminous undulations, that the orb seemed to have been blown out by a powerful gust. "the moon has melted, disappeared!" cried michel ardan, wonder-stricken. in fact, no ray of light or shade had appeared on the disc, formerly so brilliant. the obscurity was complete, and rendered deeper still by the shining of the stars. it was the darkness of lunar night, which lasts 354 hours and a half on each point of the disc--a long night, the result of the equality of the movements of translation and rotation of the moon, the one upon herself, the other round the earth. the projectile in the satellite's cone of shadow was no longer under the action of the solar rays. in the interior darkness was, therefore, complete. the travellers could no longer see one another. hence came the necessity to lighten this darkness. however desirous barbicane might be to economise the gas, of which he had so small a reserve, he was obliged to have recourse to it for artificial light--an expensive brilliancy which the sun then refused. "the devil take the radiant orb!" cried michel ardan; "he is going to force us to spend our gas instead of giving us his rays for nothing." "we must not accuse the sun," said nicholl. "it is not his fault, it is the moon's fault for coming and putting herself like a screen between us and him." "it's the sun!" said michel again. "it's the moon!" retorted nicholl. an idle dispute began, which barbicane put an end to by saying-"my friends, it is neither the fault of the sun nor the moon. it is the projectile's fault for deviating from its course instead of rigorously following it. or, to be juster still, it is the fault of that unfortunate asteroid which so deplorably altered our first direction." "good!" answered michel ardan; "as that business is settled let us have our breakfast. after a night entirely passed in making observations, we want something to set us to rights a little." this proposition met with no contradiction. michel prepared the repast in a few minutes. but they ate for the sake of eating. they drank without toasts or hurrahs. the bold travellers, borne away into the darkness of space without their accustomed escort of rays, felt a vague uneasiness invade their hearts. the "farouche" darkness, so dear to the pen of victor hugo, surrounded them on all sides. in the meantime they talked about this interminable night, 354 hours, or nearly 15 days, long, which physical laws have imposed upon the inhabitants of the moon. barbicane gave his friends some explanation of the causes and consequences of this curious phenomenon. "curious it certainly is," said he, "for if each hemisphere of the moon is deprived of solar light for fifteen days, the one over which we are moving at this moment does not even enjoy, during its long night, a sight of the brilliantly-lighted earth. in a word, there is no moon, applying that qualification to our spheroid, except for one side of the disc. now, if it was the same upon earth--if, for example, europe never saw the moon, and she was only visible at the antipodes--you can figure to yourselves the astonishment of a european on arriving in australia." "they would make the voyage for nothing but to go and see the moon," answered michel. "well," resumed barbicane, "that astonishment is reserved to the selenite who inhabits the opposite side of the moon to the earth, a side for ever invisible to our fellow-beings of the terrestrial globe." "and which we should have seen," added nicholl, "if we had arrived here at the epoch when the moon is new--that is to say, a fortnight later." "to make amends," resumed barbicane, "an inhabitant of the visible face is singularly favoured by nature to the detriment on the invisible face. the latter, as you see, has dark nights of 354 hours long, without a ray of light to penetrate the obscurity. the other, on the contrary, when the sun, which has lighted him for a fortnight, sets under the horizon, sees on the opposite horizon a splendid orb rise. it is the earth, thirteen times larger than that moon which we know--the earth, which is developed to a diameter of two degrees, and which sheds a light thirteen times greater, which no atmosphere qualifies; the earth, which only disappears when the sun reappears." "a fine sentence," said michel ardan; "rather academical perhaps." "it follows," resumed barbicane, nowise put out, "that the visible face of the disc must be very agreeable to inhabit, as it is always lighted by the sun or the moon." "but," said nicholl, "this advantage must be quite compensated by the unbearable heat which this light must cause." "this inconvenience is the same under two faces, for the light reflected by the earth is evidently deprived of heat. however, this invisible face is still more deprived of heat than the visible face. i say that for you, nicholl; michel would probably not understand." "thank you," said michel. "in fact," resumed barbicane, "when the invisible face receives the solar light and heat the moon is new--that is to say, that she is in conjunction, that she is situated between the sun and the earth. she is then, on account of the situation which she occupies in opposition when she is full, nearer the sun by the double of her distance from the earth. now this distance may be estimated at the two-hundredth part of that which separates the sun and the earth; or, in round numbers, at two hundred thousand leagues. therefore this visible face is nearer the sun by two hundred thousand leagues when it receives his rays." "quite right," replied nicholl. "whilst--" resumed barbicane. "allow me," said michel, interrupting his grave companion. "what do you want?" "i want to go on with the explanation." "why?" "to prove that i have understood." "go on, then," said barbicane, smiling. "whilst," said michel, imitating the tone and gestures of president barbicane, "when the visible face of the moon is lighted by the sun the moon is full--that is to say, situated with regard to the earth the opposite to the sun. the distance which separates it from the radiant orb is then increased in round numbers by 200,000 leagues, and the heat which it receives must be rather less." "well done!" exclaimed barbicane. "do you know, michel, for an artist you are intelligent." "yes," answered michel carelessly, "we are all intelligent on the boulevard des italiens." barbicane shook hands gravely with his amiable companion, and went on enumerating the few advantages reserved to the inhabitants of the visible face. amongst others he quoted the observations of the sun's eclipses, which can only be seen from one side of the lunar disc, because the moon must be in opposition before they can take place. these eclipses, caused by the interposition of the earth between the sun and the moon, may last two hours, during which, on account of the rays refracted by its atmosphere, the terrestrial globe can only appear like a black spot upon the sun. "then," said nicholl, "the invisible hemisphere is very ill-treated by nature." "yes," answered barbicane, "but not the whole of it. by a certain movement of liberation, a sort of balancing on its centre, the moon presents more than the half of her disc to the earth. she is like a pendulum, the centre of gravity of which is towards the terrestrial globe, and which oscillates regularly. whence comes that oscillation? because her movement of rotation on her axis is animated with uniform velocity, whilst her movement of translation, following an elliptical orb round the earth, is not. at the perigee the velocity of translation is greater, and the moon shows a certain portion of her western border. at her apogee the velocity of rotation is greater, and a morsel of her eastern border appears. it is a strip of about eight degrees, which appears sometimes on the west, sometimes on the east. the result is, therefore, that of a thousand parts the moon shows five hundred and sixty-nine." "no matter," answered michel; "if we ever become selenites, we will inhabit the visible face. i like light." "unless," replied nicholl, "the atmosphere should be condensed on the other side, as certain astronomers pretend." "that is a consideration," answered michel simply. in the meantime breakfast was concluded, and the observers resumed their posts. they tried to see through the dark port-light by putting out all light in the projectile. but not one luminous atom penetrated the obscurity. one inexplicable fact preoccupied barbicane. how was it that though the projectile had been so near the moon, within a distance of twenty-five miles, it had not fallen upon her? if its speed had been enormous, he would have understood why it had not fallen. but with a relatively slight speed the resistance to lunar attraction could not be explained. was the projectile under the influence of some strange force? did some body maintain it in the ether? it was henceforth evident that it would not touch any point upon the moon. where was it going? was it going farther away from or nearer to the disc? was it carried along in the gloom across infinitude? how were they to know, how calculate in the dark? all these questions made barbicane anxious, but he could not solve them. in fact, the invisible orb was there, perhaps, at a distance of some leagues only, but neither his companions nor he could any longer see it. if any noise was made on its surface they could not hear it. the air, that vehicle of transmission, was wanting to convey to them the groans of that moon which the arabian legends make "a man already half-granite, but still palpitating." it will be agreed that it was enough to exasperate the most patient observers. it was precisely the unknown hemisphere that was hidden from their eyes. that face which a fortnight sooner or a fortnight later had been, or would be, splendidly lighted up by the solar rays, was then lost in absolute darkness. where would the projectile be in another fortnight? where would the hazards of attraction have taken it? who could say? it is generally admitted that the invisible hemisphere of the moon is, by its constitution, absolutely similar to the visible hemisphere. one-seventh of it is seen in those movements of libration barbicane spoke of. now upon the surface seen there were only plains and mountains, amphitheatres and craters, like those on the maps. they could there imagine the same arid and dead nature. and yet, supposing the atmosphere to have taken refuge upon that face? suppose that with the air water had given life to these regenerated continents? suppose that vegetation still persists there? suppose that animals people these continents and seas? suppose that man still lives under those conditions of habitability? how many questions there were it would have been interesting to solve! what solutions might have been drawn from the contemplation of that hemisphere! what delight it would have been to glance at that world which no human eye has seen! the disappointment of the travellers in the midst of this darkness may be imagined. all observation of the lunar disc was prevented. the constellations alone were visible, and it must be acknowledged that no astronomers, neither faye, chacornac, nor the secchi, had ever been in such favourable conditions to observe them. in fact, nothing could equal the splendour of this starry world, bathed in limpid ether. diamonds set in the celestial vault threw out superb flames. one look could take in the firmament from the southern cross to the north star, those two constellations which will in 12,000 years, on account of the succession of equinoxes, resign their _rôles_ of polar stars, the one to canopus in the southern hemisphere, the other to wega in the northern. imagination lost itself in this sublime infinitude, amidst which the projectile was moving like a new star created by the hand of man. from natural causes these constellations shone with a soft lustre; they did not twinkle because there was no atmosphere to intervene with its strata unequally dense, and of different degrees of humidity, which causes this scintillation. the travellers long watched the constellated firmament, upon which the vast screen of the moon made an enormous black hole. but a painful sensation at length drew them from their contemplation. this was an intense cold, which soon covered the glasses of the port-lights with a thick coating of ice. the sun no longer warmed the projectile with his rays, and it gradually lost the heat stored up in its walls. this heat was by radiation rapidly evaporated into space, and a considerable lowering of the temperature was the result. the interior humidity was changed into ice by contact with the window-panes, and prevented all observation. nicholl, consulting the thermometer, said that it had fallen to 17° (centigrade) below zero (1° fahr). therefore, notwithstanding every reason for being economical, barbicane was obliged to seek heat as well as light from gas. the low temperature of the bullet was no longer bearable. its occupants would have been frozen to death. "we will not complain about the monotony of the journey," said michel ardan. "what variety we have had, in temperature at all events! at times we have been blinded with light, and saturated with heat like the indians of the pampas! now we are plunged into profound darkness amidst boreal cold, like the esquimaux of the pole! no, indeed! we have no right to complain, and nature has done many things in our honour!" "but," asked nicholl, "what is the exterior temperature?" "precisely that of planetary space," answered barbicane. "then," resumed michel ardan, "would not this be an opportunity for making that experiment we could not attempt when we were bathed in the solar rays?" "now or never," answered barbicane, "for we are usefully situated in order to verify the temperature of space, and see whether the calculations of fourier or pouillet are correct." "any way it is cold enough," said michel. "look at the interior humidity condensing on the port-lights. if this fall continues the vapour of our respiration will fall around us in snow." "let us get a thermometer," said barbicane. it will be readily seen that an ordinary thermometer would have given no result under the circumstances in which it was going to be exposed. the mercury would have frozen in its cup, for it does not keep liquid below 44° below zero. but barbicane had provided himself with a spirit thermometer, on the walferdin system, which gives the minima of excessively low temperature. before beginning the experiment this instrument was compared with an ordinary thermometer, and barbicane prepared to employ it. "how shall we manage it?" asked nicholl. "nothing is easier," answered michel ardan, who was never at a loss. "open the port-light rapidly, throw out the instrument; it will follow the projectile with exemplary docility; a quarter of an hour after take it in." "with your hand?" asked barbicane. "with my hand," answered michel. "well, then, my friend, do not try it," said barbicane, "for the hand you draw back will be only a stump, frozen and deformed by the frightful cold." "really?" "you would feel the sensation of a terrible burn, like one made with a red-hot iron, for the same thing happens when heat is brutally abstracted from our body as when it is inserted. besides, i am not sure that objects thrown out still follow us." "why?" said nicholl. "because if we are passing through any atmosphere, however slightly dense, these objects will be delayed. now the darkness prevents us verifying whether they still float around us. therefore, in order not to risk our thermometer, we will tie something to it, and so easily pull it back into the interior." barbicane's advice was followed. nicholl threw the instrument out of the rapidly-opened port-light, holding it by a very short cord, so that it could be rapidly drawn in. the window was only open one second, and yet that one second was enough to allow the interior of the projectile to become frightfully cold. "_mille diables!_" cried michel ardan, "it is cold enough here to freeze white bears!" barbicane let half-an-hour go by, more than sufficient time to allow the instrument to descend to the level of the temperature of space. the thermometer was then rapidly drawn in. barbicane calculated the quantity of mercury spilt into the little phial soldered to the lower part of the instrument, and said-"one hundred and forty degrees centigrade below zero!" (218° fahr.) m. pouillet was right, not fourier. such was the frightful temperature of sidereal space! such perhaps that of the lunar continents when the orb of night loses by radiation all the heat which she absorbs during the fifteen days of sunshine. chapter xv. hyperbola or parabola. our readers will probably be astonished that barbicane and his companions were so little occupied with the future in store for them in their metal prison, carried along in the infinitude of ether. instead of asking themselves where they were going, they lost their time in making experiments, just as if they had been comfortably installed in their own studies. it might be answered that men so strong-minded were above such considerations, that such little things did not make them uneasy, and that they had something else to do than to think about their future. the truth is that they were not masters of their projectile--that they could neither stop it nor alter its direction. a seaman can direct the head of his ship as he pleases; an aëronaut can give his balloon vertical movement. they, on the contrary, had no authority over their vehicle. no manoeuvre was possible to them. hence their not troubling themselves, or "let things go" state of mind. where were they at that moment, 8 a.m. during that day called upon earth the sixth of december? certainly in the neighbourhood of the moon, and even near enough for her to appear like a vast black screen upon the firmament. as to the distance which separated them, it was impossible to estimate it. the projectile, kept up by inexplicable forces, has grazed the north pole of the satellite at less than twenty-five miles' distance. but had that distance increased or diminished since they had been in the cone of shadow? there was no landmark by which to estimate either the direction or the velocity of the projectile. perhaps it was going rapidly away from the disc and would soon leave the pure shadow. perhaps, on the contrary, it was approaching it, and would before long strike against some elevated peak in the invisible atmosphere, which would have terminated the journey, doubtless to the detriment of the travellers. a discussion began upon this subject, and michel ardan, always rich in explanations, gave out the opinion that the bullet, restrained by lunar attraction, would end by falling on the moon like an aërolite on to the surface of the terrestrial globe. "in the first place," answered barbicane, "all aërolites do not fall upon the surface of the earth; only a small proportion do so. therefore, if we are aërolites it does not necessarily follow that we shall fall upon the moon." "still," answered michel, "if we get near enough--" "error," replied barbicane. "have you not seen shooting stars by thousands in the sky at certain epochs?" "yes." "well, those stars, or rather corpuscles, only shine by rubbing against the atmospheric strata. now, if they pass through the atmosphere, they pass at less than 16 miles from our globe, and yet they rarely fall. it is the same with our projectile. it may approach very near the moon, and yet not fall upon it." "but then," asked michel, "i am curious to know how our vehicle would behave in space." "i only see two hypotheses," answered barbicane, after some minutes' reflection. "what are they?" "the projectile has the choice between two mathematical curves, and it will follow the one or the other according to the velocity with which it is animated, and which i cannot now estimate." "yes, it will either describe a parabola or an hyperbola." "yes," answered barbicane, "with some speed it will describe a parabola, and with greater speed an hyperbola." "i like those grand words!" exclaimed michel ardan. "i know at once what you mean. and what is your parabola, if you please?" "my friend," answered the captain, "a parabola is a conic section arising from cutting a cone by a plane parallel to one of its sides." "oh!" said michel in a satisfied tone. "it is about the same trajectory that the bomb of a howitzer describes." "just so. and an hyperbola?" asked michel. "it is a curve formed by a section of a cone when the cutting plane makes a greater angle with the base than the side of the cone makes." "is it possible?" exclaimed michel ardan in the most serious tone, as if he had been informed of a grave event. "then remember this, captain nicholl, what i like in your definition of the hyperbola--i was going to say of the hyperhumbug--is that it is still less easy to understand than the word you pretend to define." nicholl and barbicane paid no attention to michel ardan's jokes. they had launched into a scientific discussion. they were eager about what curve the projectile would take. one was for the hyperbola, the other for the parabola. they gave each other reasons bristling with _x_'s. their arguments were presented in a language which made michel ardan jump. the discussion was lively, and neither of the adversaries would sacrifice his curve of predilection. this scientific dispute was prolonged until michel ardan became impatient, and said-"i say, messrs. cosine, do leave off throwing your hyperbolas and parabolas at one's head. i want to know the only interesting thing about the business. we shall follow one or other of your curves. very well. but where will they take us to?" "nowhere," answered nicholl. "how nowhere?" "evidently they are unfinished curves, prolonged indefinitely!" "ah, _savants_! what does it matter about hyperbola or parabola if they both carry us indefinitely into space?" barbicane and nicholl could not help laughing. they cared for art for its own sake. never had more useless question been discussed at a more inopportune moment. the fatal truth was that the projectile, whether hyperbolically or parabolically carried along, would never strike against either the earth or the moon. what would become of these bold travellers in the most immediate future? if they did not die of hunger or thirst, they would in a few days, when gas failed them, die for want of air, if the cold had not killed them first! still, although it was so important to economise gas, the excessive lowness of the surrounding temperature forced them to consume a certain quantity. they could not do without either its light or heat. happily the caloric developed by the reiset and regnault apparatus slightly elevated the temperature of the projectile, and without spending much they could raise it to a bearable degree. in the meantime observation through the port-lights had become very difficult. the steam inside the bullet condensed upon the panes and froze immediately. they were obliged to destroy the opacity of the glass by constant rubbing. however, they could record several phenomena of the highest interest. in fact, if the invisible disc had any atmosphere, the shooting stars would be seen passing through it. if the projectile itself passed through the fluid strata, might it not hear some noise echoed--a storm, for instance, an avalanche, or a volcano in activity? should they not see the intense fulgurations of a burning mountain? such facts, carefully recorded, would have singularly elucidated the obscure question of the lunar constitution. thus barbicane and nicholl, standing like astronomers at their port-lights, watched with scrupulous patience. but until then the disc remained mute and dark. it did not answer the multifarious interrogations of these ardent minds. this provoked from michel a reflection that seemed correct enough. "if ever we recommence our journey, we shall do well to choose the epoch when the moon is new." "true," answered nicholl, "that circumstance would have been more favourable. i agree that the moon, bathed in sunlight, would not be visible during the passage, but on the other hand the earth would be full. and if we are dragged round the moon like we are now, we should at least have the advantage of seeing the invisible disc magnificently lighted up." "well said, nicholl," replied michel ardan. "what do you think about it, barbicane?" "i think this," answered the grave president: "if ever we recommence this journey, we shall start at the same epoch, and under the same circumstances. suppose we had reached our goal, would it not have been better to find the continents in full daylight instead of dark night? would not our first installation have been made under better circumstances? yes, evidently. as to the invisible side, we could have visited that in our exploring expeditions on the lunar globe. so, therefore, the time of the full moon was well chosen. but we ought to have reached our goal, and in order to have reached it we ought not to have deviated from our road." "there is no answer to make to that," said michel ardan. "yet we have passed a fine opportunity for seeing the moon! who knows whether the inhabitants of the other planets are not more advanced than the _savants_ of the earth on the subject of their satellites?" the following answer might easily have been given to michel ardan's remark:--yes, other satellites, on account of their greater proximity, have made the study of them easier. the inhabitants of saturn, jupiter, and uranus, if they exist, have been able to establish communication with their moons much more easily. the four satellites of jupiter gravitate at a distance of 108,260 leagues, 172,200 leagues, 274,700 leagues, and 480,130 leagues. but these distances are reckoned from the centre of the planet, and by taking away the radius, which is 17,000 to 18,000 leagues, it will be seen that the first satellite is at a much less distance from the surface of jupiter than the moon is from the centre of the earth. of the eight moons of saturn, four are near. diana is 84,600 leagues off; thetys, 62,966 leagues; enceladus, 48,191 leagues; and lastly, mimas is at an average distance of 34,500 leagues only. of the eighteen satellites of uranus, the first, ariel, is only 51,520 leagues from the planet. therefore, upon the surface of those three stars, an experiment analogous to that of president barbicane would have presented less difficulties. if, therefore, their inhabitants have attempted the enterprise, they have, perhaps, acquainted themselves with the constitution of the half of the disc which their satellite hides eternally from their eyes. but if they have never left their planet, they do not know more about them than the astronomers of the earth. in the meantime the bullet was describing in the darkness that incalculable trajectory which no landmark allowed them to find out. was its direction altered either under the influence of lunar attraction or under the action of some unknown orb? barbicane could not tell. but a change had taken place in the relative position of the vehicle, and barbicane became aware of it about 4 a.m. the change consisted in this, that the bottom of the projectile was turned towards the surface of the moon, and kept itself perpendicular with its axis. the attraction or gravitation had caused this modification. the heaviest part of the bullet inclined towards the invisible disc exactly as if it had fallen towards it. was it falling then? were the travellers at last about to reach their desired goal? no. and the observation of one landmark, inexplicable in itself, demonstrated to barbicane that his projectile was not nearing the moon, and that it was following an almost concentric curve. this was a flash of light which nicholl signalised all at once on the limit of the horizon formed by the black disc. this point could not be mistaken for a star. it was a reddish flame, which grew gradually larger--an incontestable proof that the projectile was getting nearer it, and not falling normally upon the surface of the satellite. "a volcano! it is a volcano in activity!" exclaimed nicholl--"an eruption of the interior fires of the moon. that world, then, is not quite extinguished." "yes, an eruption!" answered barbicane, who studied the phenomenon carefully through his night-glass. "what should it be if not a volcano?" "but then," said michel ardan, "air is necessary to feed that combustion, therefore there is some atmosphere on that part of the moon." "perhaps so," answered barbicane, "but not necessarily. a volcano, by the decomposition of certain matters, can furnish itself with oxygen, and so throw up flames into the void. it seems to me, too, that that deflagration has the intensity and brilliancy of objects the combustion of which is produced in pure oxygen. we must not be in a hurry to affirm the existence of a lunar atmosphere." the burning mountain was situated at the 45th degree of south latitude on the invisible part of the disc. but to the great disappointment of barbicane the curve that the projectile described dragged it away from the point signalised by the eruption, therefore he could not exactly determine its nature. half-an-hour after it had first been seen this luminous point disappeared on the horizon. still the authentication of this phenomenon was a considerable fact in selenographic studies. it proved that all heat had not yet disappeared from the interior of this globe, and where heat exists, who may affirm that the vegetable kingdom, or even the animal kingdom itself, has not until now resisted the destructive influences? the existence of this volcano in eruption, indisputably established by earthly _savants_, was favourable to the theory of the habitability of the moon. barbicane became absorbed in reflection. he forgot himself in a mute reverie, filled with the mysterious destinies of the lunar world. he was trying to connect the facts observed up till then, when a fresh incident recalled him suddenly to the reality. this incident was more than a cosmic phenomenon; it was a threatening danger, the consequences of which might be disastrous. suddenly in the midst of the ether, in the profound darkness, an enormous mass had appeared. it was like a moon, but a burning moon of almost unbearable brilliancy, outlined as it was on the total obscurity of space. this mass, of a circular form, threw such light that it filled the projectile. the faces of barbicane, nicholl, and michel ardan, bathed in its white waves, looked spectral, livid, _blafard_, like the appearance produced by the artificial light of alcohol impregnated with salt. "the devil!" cried michel ardan. "how hideous we are! whatever is that wretched moon?" "it is a bolis," answered barbicane. "a bolis, on fire, in the void?" "yes." this globe of fire was indeed a bolis. barbicane was not mistaken. but if these cosmic meteors, seen from the earth, present an inferior light to that of the moon, here, in the dark ether, they shone magnificently. these wandering bodies carry in themselves the principle of their own incandescence. the surrounding air is not necessary to the deflagration. and, indeed, if certain of these bodies pass through our atmosphere at two or three leagues from the earth, others describe their trajectory at a distance the atmosphere cannot reach. some of these meteors are from one to two miles wide, and move at a speed of forty miles a second, following an inverse direction from the movement of the earth. this shooting star suddenly appeared in the darkness at a distance of at least 100 leagues, and measured, according to barbicane's estimate, a diameter of 2,000 metres. it moved with the speed of about thirty leagues a minute. it cut across the route of the projectile, and would reach it in a few minutes. as it approached it grew larger in an enormous proportion. if possible, let the situation of the travellers be imagined! 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 fearful terror. their projectile, the course of which they could not alter, was running straight on to this burning mass, more intense than the open mouth of a furnace. they seemed to be rushing towards an abyss of fire. barbicane seized the hands of his two companions, and all three looked through their half-closed eyelids at the red-hot asteroid. if they still thought at all, they must have given themselves up as lost! two minutes after the sudden appearance of the bolis, two centuries of agony, the projectile seemed about to strike against it, when the ball of fire burst like a bomb, but without making any noise in the void, where sound, which is only the agitation of the strata of air, could not be made. nicholl uttered a cry. his companions and he rushed to the port-lights. what a spectacle! what pen could describe it, what palette would be rich enough in colours to reproduce its magnificence? it was like the opening of a crater, or the spreading of an immense fire. thousands of luminous fragments lit up space with their fires. every size, colour, and shade were there. there were yellow, red, green, grey, a crown of multi-coloured fireworks. there only remained of the enormous and terrible globe pieces carried in all directions, each an asteroid in its turn, some shining like swords, some surrounded by white vapour, others leaving behind them a trail of cosmic dust. these incandescent blocks crossed each other, knocked against each other, and were scattered into smaller fragments, of which some struck the projectile. its left window was even cracked by the violent shock. it seemed to be floating in a shower of bullets, of which the least could annihilate it in an instant. the light which saturated the ether was of incomparable intensity, for these asteroids dispersed it in every direction. at a certain moment it was so bright that michel dragged barbicane and nicholl to the window, exclaiming-"the invisible moon is at last visible!" and all three, across the illumination, saw for a few seconds that mysterious disc which the eye of man perceived for the first time. what did they distinguish across that distance which they could not estimate? long bands across the disc, veritable clouds formed in a very restricted atmospheric medium, from which emerged not only all the mountains, but every relief of middling importance, amphitheatres, yawning craters, such as exist on the visible face. then immense tracts, no longer arid plains, but veritable seas, oceans which reflected in their liquid mirror all the dazzling magic of the fires of space. lastly, on the surface of the continents, vast dark masses, such as immense forests would resemble under the rapid illumination of a flash of lightning. was it an illusion, an error of the eyes, an optical deception? could they give a scientific affirmation to that observation so superficially obtained? dared they pronounce upon the question of its habitability after so slight a glimpse of the invisible disc? by degrees the fulgurations of space gradually died out, its accidental brilliancy lessened, the asteroids fled away by their different trajectories, and went out in the distance. the ether resumed its habitual darkness; the stars, for one moment eclipsed, shone in the firmament, and the disc, of which scarcely a glimpse had been caught, was lost in the impenetrable night. chapter xvi. the southern hemisphere. the projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, a danger quite unforeseen. who would have imagined such a meeting of asteroids? these wandering bodies might prove serious perils to the travellers. they were to them like so many rocks in the sea of ether, which, less fortunate than navigators, they could not avoid. but did these adventurers of space complain? no, as nature had given them the splendid spectacle of a cosmic meteor shining by formidable expansion, as this incomparable display of fireworks, which no ruggieri could imitate, had lighted for a few seconds the invisible nimbus of the moon. during that rapid peep, continents, seas, and forests had appeared to them. then the atmosphere did give there its life-giving particles? questions still not solved, eternally asked by american curiosity. it was then 3.30 p.m. the bullet was still describing its curve round the moon. had its route again been modified by the meteor? it was to be feared. the projectile ought, however to describe a curve imperturbably determined by the laws of mechanics. barbicane inclined to the opinion that this curve would be a parabola and not an hyperbola. however, if the parabola was admitted, the bullet ought soon to come out of the cone of shadow thrown into the space on the opposite side to the sun. this cone, in fact, is very narrow, the angular diameter of the moon is so small compared to the diameter of the orb of day. until now the projectile had moved in profound darkness. whatever its speed had been--and it could not have been slight--its period of occultation continued. that fact was evident, but perhaps that would not have been the case in a rigidly parabolical course. this was a fresh problem which tormented barbicane's brain, veritably imprisoned as it was in a web of the unknown which he could not disentangle. neither of the travellers thought of taking a minute's rest. each watched for some unexpected incident which should throw a new light on their uranographic studies. about five o'clock michel distributed to them, by way of dinner, some morsels of bread and cold meat, which were rapidly absorbed, whilst no one thought of leaving the port-light, the panes of which were becoming incrusted under the condensation of vapour. about 5.45 p.m., nicholl, armed with his telescope, signalised upon the southern border of the moon, and in the direction followed by the projectile, a few brilliant points outlined against the dark screen of the sky. they looked like a succession of sharp peaks with profiles in a tremulous line. they were rather brilliant. the terminal line of the moon looks the same when she is in one of her octants. they could not be mistaken. there was no longer any question of a simple meteor, of which that luminous line had neither the colour nor the mobility, nor of a volcano in eruption. barbicane did not hesitate to declare what it was. "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 border of the moon. we are evidently approaching the south pole!" "after having passed the north pole," answered michel. "then we have been all round our satellite." "yes, friend michel." "then we have no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no more open curves to fear!" "no, but a closed curve." "which is called--" "an ellipsis. instead of being lost in the interplanetary spaces it is possible that the projectile will describe an elliptical orbit round the moon." "really!" "and that it will become its satellite." "moon of the moon," exclaimed michel ardan. "only i must tell you, my worthy friend, that we are none the less lost men on that account!" "no, but in another and much pleasanter way!" answered the careless frenchman, with his most amiable smile. president barbicane was right. by describing this elliptical orbit the projectile was going to gravitate eternally round the moon like a sub-satellite. it was a new star added to the solar world, a microcosm peopled by three inhabitants, whom want of air would kill before long. barbicane, therefore, could not rejoice at the position imposed on the bullet by the double influence of the centripetal and centrifugal forces. his companions and he were again going to see the visible face of the disc. perhaps their existence would last long enough for them to perceive for the last time the full earth superbly lighted up by the rays of the sun! perhaps they might throw a last adieu to the globe they were never more to see again! then their projectile would be nothing but an extinct mass, dead like those inert asteroids which circulate in the ether. a single consolation remained to them: it was that of seeing the darkness and returning to light, it was that of again entering the zones bathed by solar irradiation! in the meantime the mountains recognised by barbicane stood out more and more from the dark mass. they were mounts doerfel and leibnitz, which stand on the southern circumpolar region of the moon. all the mountains of the visible hemisphere have been measured with perfect exactitude. this perfection will, no doubt, seem astonishing, and yet the hypsometric methods are rigorous. the altitude of the lunar mountains may be no less exactly determined than that of the mountains of the earth. the method generally employed is that of measuring the shadow thrown by the mountains, whilst taking into account the altitude of the sun at the moment of observation. this method also allows the calculating of the depth of craters and cavities on the moon. galileo used it, and since messrs. boeer and moedler have employed it with the greatest success. another method, called the tangent radii, may also be used for measuring lunar reliefs. it is applied at the moment when the mountains form luminous points on the line of separation between light and darkness which shine on the dark part of the disc. these luminous points are produced by the solar rays above those which determine the limit of the phase. therefore the measure of the dark interval which the luminous point and the luminous part of the phase leave between them gives exactly the height of the point. but it will be seen that this method can only be applied to the mountains near the line of separation of darkness and light. a third method consists in measuring the profile of the lunar mountains outlined on the background by means of a micrometer; but it is only applicable to the heights near the border of the orb. in any case it will be remarked that this measurement of shadows, intervals, or profiles can only be made when the solar rays strike the moon obliquely in relation to the observer. when they strike her directly--in a word, when she is full--all shadow is imperiously banished from her disc, and observation is no longer possible. galileo, after recognising the existence of the lunar mountains, was the first to employ the method of calculating their heights by the shadows they throw. he attributed to them, as it has already been shown, an average of 9,000 yards. hevelius singularly reduced these figures, which riccioli, on the contrary, doubled. all these measures were exaggerated. herschel, with his more perfect instruments, approached nearer the hypsometric truth. but it must be finally sought in the accounts of modern observers. messrs. boeer and moedler, the most perfect selenographers in the whole world, have measured 1,095 lunar mountains. it results from their calculations that 6 of these mountains rise above 5,800 metres, and 22 above 4,800. the highest summit of the moon measures 7,603 metres; it is, therefore, inferior to those of the earth, of which some are 1,000 yards higher. but one remark must be made. if the respective volumes of the two orbs are compared the lunar mountains are relatively higher than the terrestrial. the lunar ones form 1/70 of the diameter of the moon, and the terrestrial only form 1/140 of the diameter of the earth. for a terrestrial mountain to attain the relative proportions of a lunar mountain, its perpendicular height ought to be 6-1/2 leagues. now the highest is not four miles. thus, then, to proceed by comparison, the chain of the himalayas counts three peaks higher than the lunar ones, mount everest, kunchinjuga, and dwalagiri. mounts doerfel and leibnitz, on the moon, are as high as jewahir in the same chain. newton, casatus, curtius, short, tycho, clavius, blancanus, endymion, the principal summits of caucasus and the apennines, are higher than mont blanc. the mountains equal to mont blanc are moret, theophylus, and catharnia; to mount rosa, piccolomini, werner, and harpalus; to mount cervin, macrobus, eratosthenes, albateque, and delambre; to the peak of teneriffe, bacon, cysatus, philolaus, and the alps; to mount perdu, in the pyrenees, roemer and boguslawski; to etna, hercules, atlas, and furnerius. such are the points of comparison that allow the appreciation of the altitude of lunar mountains. now the trajectory followed by the projectile dragged it precisely towards that mountainous region of the southern hemisphere where rise the finest specimens of lunar orography. chapter xvii. tycho. at 6 p.m. the projectile passed the south pole at less than thirty miles, a distance equal to that already reached at the north pole. the elliptical curve was, therefore, being rigorously described. at that moment the travellers re-entered the beneficent sunshine. they saw once more the stars moving slowly from east to west. the radiant orb was saluted with a triple hurrah. with its light came also its heat, which soon pierced the middle walls. the windows resumed their accustomed transparency. their "layer of ice" melted as if by enchantment. the gas was immediately extinguished by way of economy. the air apparatus alone was to consume its habitual quantity. "ah!" said nicholl, "sunshine is good! how impatiently after their long nights the selenites must await the reappearance of the orb of day!" "yes," answered michel ardan, "imbibing, as it were, the brilliant ether, light and heat, all life is in them." at that moment the bottom of the projectile moved slightly from the lunar surface in order to describe a rather long elliptical orbit. from that point, if the earth had been full, barbicane and his friends could have seen it again. but, drowned in the sun's irradiation, it remained absolutely invisible. another spectacle attracted their eyes, presented by the southern region of the moon, brought by the telescopes to within half-a-mile. they left the port-lights no more, and noted all the details of the strange continent. mounts doerfel and leibnitz formed two separate groups stretching nearly to the south pole; the former group extends from the pole to the 84th parallel on the eastern part of the orb; the second, starting from the eastern border, stretches from the 65th degree of latitude to the pole. on their capriciously-formed ridge appeared dazzling sheets of light like those signalised by father secchi. with more certainty than the illustrious roman astronomer, barbicane was enabled to establish their nature. "it is snow," cried he. "snow?" echoed nicholl. "yes, nicholl, snow, the surface of which is profoundly frozen. look how it reflects the luminous rays. cooled lava would not give so intense a reflection. therefore there is water and air upon the moon, as little as you like, but the fact can no longer be contested." no, it could not be, and if ever barbicane saw the earth again his notes would testify to this fact, important in selenographic observations. these mounts doerfel and leibnitz arose in the midst of plains of moderate extent, bounded by an indefinite succession of amphitheatres and circular ramparts. these two chains are the only ones which are met with in the region of amphitheatres. relatively they are not very broken, and only throw out here and there some sharp peaks, the highest of which measures 7,603 metres. the projectile hung high above all this, and the relief disappeared in the intense brilliancy of the disc. then reappeared to the eyes of the travellers that original aspect of the lunar landscapes, raw in tone, without gradation of colours, only white and black, for diffused light was wanting. still the sight of this desolate world was very curious on account of its very strangeness. they were moving above this chaotic region as if carried along by the breath of a tempest, seeing the summits fly under their feet, looking down the cavities, climbing the ramparts, sounding the mysterious holes. but there was no trace of vegetation, no appearance of cities, nothing but stratifications, lava streams, polished like immense mirrors, which reflect the solar rays with unbearable brilliancy. there was no appearance of a living world, everything of a dead one, where the avalanches rolling from the summit of the mountains rushed noiselessly. they had plenty of movement, but noise was wanting still. barbicane established the fact, by reiterated observation, that the reliefs on the borders of the disc, although they had been acted upon by different forces to those of the central region, presented a uniform conformation. there was the same circular aggregation, the same accidents of ground. still it might be supposed that their arrangements were not completely analogous. in the centre the still malleable crust of the moon suffered the double attraction of the moon and the earth acting in inverse ways according to a radius prolonged from one to the other. on the borders of the disc, on the contrary, the lunar attraction has been, thus to say, perpendicular with the terrestrial attraction. it seems, therefore, that the reliefs on the soil produced under these conditions ought to have taken a different form. yet they had not, therefore the moon had found in herself alone the principle of her formation and constitution. she owed nothing to foreign influences, which justified the remarkable proposition of arago's, "no action exterior to the moon has contributed to the production of her relief." however that may be in its actual condition, this world was the image of death without it being possible to say that life had ever animated it. michel ardan, however, thought he recognised a heap of ruins, to which he drew barbicane's attention. it was situated in about the 80th parallel and 30° longitude. this heap of stones, pretty regularly made, was in the shape of a vast fortress, overlooking one of those long furrows which served as river-beds in ante-historical times. not far off rose to a height of 5,646 metres the circular mountain called short, equal to the asiatic caucasus. michel ardan, with his habitual ardour, maintained "the evidences" of his fortress. below he perceived the dismantled ramparts of a town; here the arch of a portico, still intact; there two or three columns lying on their side; farther on a succession of archpieces, which must have supported the conduct of an aqueduct; in another part the sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge run into the thickest part of the furrow. he distinguished all that, but with so much imagination in his eyes, through a telescope so fanciful, that his observation cannot be relied upon. and yet who would affirm, who would dare to say, that the amiable fellow had not really seen what his two companions would not see? the moments were too precious to be sacrificed to an idle discussion. the selenite city, whether real or pretended, had disappeared in the distance. the projectile began to get farther away from the lunar disc, and the details of the ground began to be lost in a confused jumble. the reliefs, amphitheatres, craters, and plains alone remained, and still showed their boundary-lines distinctly. at that moment there stretched to the left one of the finest amphitheatres in lunar orography. it was newton, which barbicane easily recognised by referring to the _mappa selenographica_. newton is situated in exactly 77° south lat. and 16° east long. it forms a circular crater, the ramparts of which, 7,264 metres high, seemed to be inaccessible. barbicane made his companions notice that the height of that mountain above the surrounding plain was far from being equal to the depth of its crater. this enormous hole was beyond all measurement, and made a gloomy abyss, the bottom of which the sun's rays could never reach. there, according to humboldt, utter darkness reigns, which the light of the sun and the earth could not break. the mythologists would have made it with justice hell's mouth. "newton," said barbicane, "is the most perfect type of the circular mountains, of which the earth possesses no specimen. they prove that the formation of the moon by cooling was due to violent causes, for whilst under the influence of interior fire the reliefs were thrown up to considerable heights, the bottom dropped in, and became lower than the lunar level." "i do not say no," answered michel ardan. a few minutes after having passed newton the projectile stood directly over the circular mountain of moret. it also passed rather high above the summits of blancanus, and about 7.30 p.m. it reached the amphitheatre of clavius. this circle, one of the most remarkable on the disc, is situated in south lat. 58° and east long. 15°. its height is estimated at 7,091 metres. the travellers at a distance of 200 miles, reduced to two by the telescopes, could admire the arrangement of this vast crater. "the terrestrial volcanoes," said barbicane, "are only molehills compared to the volcanoes of the moon. measuring the ancient craters formed by the first eruptions of vesuvius and etna, they are found to be scarcely 6,000 metres wide. in france the circle of the cantal measures five miles; at ceylon the circle of the island is forty miles, and is considered the largest on the globe. what are these diameters compared to that of clavius, which we are over in this moment?" "what is its width?" asked nicholl. "about seventy miles," answered barbicane. "this amphitheatre is certainly the largest on the moon, but many are fifty miles wide!" "ah, my friends," exclaimed michel ardan, "can you imagine what this peaceful orb of night was once like? when these craters vomited torrents of lava and stones, with clouds of smoke and sheets of flame? what a prodigious spectacle formerly, and now what a falling off! this moon is now only the meagre case of fireworks, of which the rockets, serpents, suns, and wheels, after going off magnificently, only leave torn pieces of cardboard. who can tell the cause, reason, or justification of such cataclysms?" barbicane did not listen to michel ardan. he was contemplating those ramparts of clavius, formed of wide mountains several leagues thick. at the bottom of its immense cavity lay hundreds of small extinct craters, making the soil like a sieve, and overlooked by a peak more than 15,000 feet high. the plain around had a desolate aspect. nothing so arid as these reliefs, nothing so sad as these ruins of mountains, if so they may be called, as those heaps of peaks and mountains encumbering the ground! the satellite seemed to have been blown up in this place. the projectile still went on, and the chaos was still the same. circles, craters, and mountains succeeded each other incessantly. no more plains or seas--an interminable switzerland or norway. lastly, in the centre of the creviced region at its culminating point, the most splendid mountain of the lunar disc, the dazzling tycho, to which posterity still gives the name of the illustrious danish astronomer. whilst observing the full moon in a cloudless sky, there is no one who has not remarked this brilliant point on the southern hemisphere. michel ardan, to qualify it, employed all the metaphors his imagination could furnish him with. to him tycho was an ardent focus of light, a centre of irradiation, a crater vomiting flames! it was the axle of a fiery wheel, a sea-star encircling the disc with its silver tentacles, an immense eye darting fire, a nimbo made for pluto's head! it was a star hurled by the hand of the creator, and fallen upon the lunar surface! tycho forms such a luminous concentration that the inhabitants of the earth can see it without a telescope, although they are at a distance of 100,000 leagues. it will, therefore, be readily imagined what its intensity must have been in the eyes of observers placed at fifty leagues only. across this pure ether its brilliancy was so unbearable that barbicane and his friends were obliged to blacken the object-glasses of their telescopes with gas-smoke in order to support it. then, mute, hardly emitting a few admirative interjections, they looked and contemplated. all their sentiments, all their impressions were concentrated in their eyes, as life, under violent emotion, is concentrated in the heart. tycho belongs to the system of radiating mountains, like aristarchus and copernicus. but it testified the most completely of all to the terrible volcanic action to which the formation of the moon is due. tycho is situated in south lat. 43° and east long. 12°. its centre is occupied by a crater more than forty miles wide. it affects a slightly elliptical form, and is inclosed by circular ramparts, which on the east and west overlook the exterior plain from a height of 5,000 metres. it is an aggregation of mont blancs, placed round a common centre, and crowned with shining rays. photography itself could never represent what this incomparable mountain, with all its projections converging to it and its interior excrescences, is really like. in fact, it is during the full moon that tycho is seen in all its splendour. then all shadows disappear, the foreshortenings of perspective disappear, and all proofs come out white--an unfortunate circumstance, for this strange region would have been curious to reproduce with photographic exactitude. it is only an agglomeration of holes, craters, circles, a vertiginous network of crests. it will be understood, therefore, that the bubblings of this central eruption have kept their first forms. crystallised by cooling, they have stereotyped the aspect which the moon formerly presented under the influence of plutonic forces. the distance which separated the travellers from the circular summits of tycho was not so great that the travellers could not survey its principal details. even upon the embankment which forms the ramparts of tycho, the mountains hanging to the interior and exterior slopes rose in stories like gigantic terraces. they appeared to be higher by 300 or 400 feet on the west than on the east. no system of terrestrial castrametation could equal these natural fortifications. a town built at the bottom of this circular cavity would have been utterly inaccessible. inaccessible and marvellously extended over this ground of picturesque relief! nature had not left the bottom of this crater flat and empty. it possessed a special orography, a mountain system which made it a world apart. the travellers clearly distinguished the cones, central hills, remarkable movements of the ground, naturally disposed for the reception of masterpieces of selenite architecture. there was the place for a temple, here for a forum, there the foundations of a palace, there the plateau of a citadel, the whole overlooked by a central mountain 1,500 feet high--a vast circuit which would have held ancient rome ten times over. "ah!" exclaimed michel ardan, made enthusiastic by the sight, "what grand towns could be built in this circle of mountains! a tranquil city, a peaceful refuge, away from all human cares! how all misanthropes could live there, all haters of humanity, all those disgusted with social life!" "all! it would be too small for them!" replied barbicane simply. chapter xviii. grave questions. in the meantime the projectile had passed the neighbourhood of tycho. barbicane and his two friends then observed, with the most scrupulous attention, those brilliant radii which the celebrated mountain disperses so curiously on every horizon. what was this radiating aureole? what geological phenomenon had caused those ardent beams? this question justly occupied barbicane. under his eyes, in every direction, ran luminous furrows, with raised banks and concave middle, some ten miles, others more than twenty miles wide. these shining trails ran in certain places at least 300 leagues from tycho, and seemed to cover, especially towards the east, north-east, and north, half the southern hemisphere. one of these furrows stretched as far as the amphitheatre of neander, situated on the 40th meridian. another went rounding off through the sea of nectar and broke against the chain of the pyrenees after a run of 400 leagues; others towards the west covered with a luminous network the sea of clouds and the sea of humours. what was the origin of these shining rays running equally over plains and reliefs, however high? they all started from a common centre, the crater of tycho. they emanated from it. herschel attributed their brilliant aspect to ancient streams of lava congealed by the cold, an opinion which has not been generally received. other astronomers have seen in these inexplicable rays a kind of _moraines_, ranges of erratic blocks thrown out at the epoch of the formation of tycho. "and why should it not be so?" asked nicholl of barbicane, who rejected these different opinions at the same time that he related them. "because the regularity of these luminous lines, and the violence necessary to send them to such a distance, are inexplicable. "_par bleu_!" replied michel ardan. "i can easily explain to myself the origin of these rays." "indeed," said barbicane. "yes," resumed michel. "why should they not be the cracks caused by the shock of a bullet or a stone upon a pane of glass?" "good," replied barbicane, smiling; "and what hand would be powerful enough to hurl the stone that would produce such a shock?" "a hand is not necessary," answered michel, who would not give in; "and as to the stone, let us say it is a comet." "ah! comets?" exclaimed barbicane; "those much-abused comets! my worthy michel, your explanation is not bad, but your comet is not wanted. the shock might have come from the interior of the planet. a violent contraction of the lunar crust whilst cooling was enough to make that gigantic crack." "contraction let it be--something like a lunar colic," answered michel ardan. "besides," added barbicane, "that is also the opinion of an english _savant_, nasmyth, and it seems to me to explain the radiation of these mountains sufficiently." "that nasmyth was no fool!" answered michel. the travellers, who could never weary of such a spectacle, long admired the splendours of tycho. their projectile, bathed in that double irradiation of the sun and moon, must have appeared like a globe of fire. they had, therefore, suddenly passed from considerable cold to intense heat. nature was thus preparing them to become selenites. to become selenites! that idea again brought up the question of the habitability of the moon. after what they had seen, could the travellers solve it? could they conclude for or against? michel ardan asked his two friends to give utterance to their opinion, and asked them outright if they thought that humanity and animality were represented in the lunar world. "i think we cannot answer," said barbicane, "but in my opinion the question ought not to be stated in that form. i ask to be allowed to state it differently." "state it as you like," answered michel. "this is it," resumed barbicane. "the problem is double, and requires a double solution. is the moon habitable? has it been inhabited?" "right," said nicholl. "let us first see if the moon is habitable." "to tell the truth, i know nothing about it," replied michel. "and i answer in the negative," said barbicane. "in her actual state, with her certainly very slight atmosphere, her seas mostly dried up, her insufficient water, her restricted vegetation, her abrupt alternations of heat and cold, her nights and days 354 hours long, the moon does not appear habitable to me, nor propitious to the development of the animal kingdom, nor sufficient for the needs of existence such as we understand it." "agreed," answered nicholl; "but is not the moon habitable for beings differently organised to us?" "that question is more difficult to answer," replied barbicane. "i will try to do it, however, but i ask nicholl if movement seems to him the necessary result of existence, under no matter what organisation?" "without the slightest doubt," answered nicholl. "well, then, my worthy companion, my answer will be that we have seen the lunar continent at a distance of 500 yards, and that nothing appeared to be moving on the surface of the moon. the presence of no matter what form of humanity would be betrayed by appropriations, different constructions, or even ruins. what did we see? everywhere the geological work of nature, never the work of man. if, therefore, representatives of the animal kingdom exist upon the moon, they have taken refuge in those bottomless cavities which the eye cannot reach. and i cannot admit that either, for they would have left traces of their passage upon the plains which the atmosphere, however slight, covers. now these traces are nowhere visible. therefore the only hypothesis that remains is one of living beings without movement or life." "you might just as well say living creatures who are not alive." "precisely," answered barbicane, "which for us has no meaning." "then now we may formulate our opinion," said michel. "yes," answered nicholl. "very well," resumed michel ardan; "the scientific commission, meeting in the projectile of the gun club, after having supported its arguments upon fresh facts lately observed, decides unanimously upon the question of the habitability of the moon--'no, the moon is not inhabited.'" this decision was taken down by barbicane in his notebook, where he had already written the _procès-verbal_ of the sitting of december 6th. "now," said nicholl, "let us attack the second question, depending on the first. i therefore ask the honourable commission if the moon is not habitable, has it been inhabited?" "answer, citizen barbicane," said michel ardan. "my friends," answered barbicane, "i did not undertake this journey to form an opinion upon the ancient habitability of our satellite. i may add that my personal observations only confirm me in this opinion. i believe, i even affirm, that the moon has been inhabited by a human race organised like ours, that it has produced animals anatomically formed like terrestrial animals; but i add that these races, human or animal, have had their day, and are for ever extinct." "then," asked michel, "the moon is an older world than the earth?" "no," answered barbicane with conviction, "but a world that has grown old more quickly, whose formation and deformation have been more rapid. relatively the organising forces of matter have been much more violent in the interior of the moon than in the interior of the celestial globe. the actual state of this disc, broken up, tormented, and swollen, proves this abundantly. in their origin the moon and the earth were only gases. these gases became liquids under different influences, and the solid mass was formed afterwards. but it is certain that our globe was gas or liquid still when the moon, already solidified by cooling, became habitable." "i believe that," said nicholl. "then," resumed barbicane, "it was surrounded by atmosphere. the water held in by the gassy element could not evaporate. under the influence of air, water, light, and heat, solar and central, vegetation took possession of these continents prepared for its reception, and certainly life manifested itself about that epoch, for nature does not spend itself in inutilities, and a world so marvellously habitable must have been inhabited." "still," answered nicholl, "many phenomena inherent to the movements of our satellite must have prevented the expansion of the vegetable and animal kingdoms. the days and nights 354 hours long, for example." "at the terrestrial poles," said michel, "they last six months." "that is not a valuable argument, as the poles are not inhabited." "in the actual state of the moon," resumed barbicane, "the long nights and days create differences of temperature insupportable to the constitution, but it was not so at that epoch of historical times. the atmosphere enveloped the disc with a fluid mantle. vapour deposited itself in the form of clouds. this natural screen tempered the ardour of the solar lays, and retained the nocturnal radiation. both light and heat could diffuse themselves in the air. hence there was equilibrium between the influences which no longer exists now that the atmosphere has almost entirely disappeared. besides, i shall astonish you--" "astonish us?" said michel ardan. "but i believe that at the epoch when the moon was inhabited the nights and days did not last 354 hours!" "why so?" asked nicholl quickly. "because it is very probable that then the moon's movement of rotation on her axis was not equal to her movement of revolution, an equality which puts every point of the lunar disc under the action of the solar rays for fifteen days." "agreed," answered nicholl; "but why should not these movements have been equal, since they are so actually?" "because that equality has only been determined by terrestrial attraction. now, how do we know that this attraction was powerful enough to influence the movements of the moon at the epoch the earth was still fluid?" "true," replied nicholl; "and who can say that the moon has always been the earth's satellite?" "and who can say," exclaimed michel ardan, "that the moon did not exist before the earth?" imagination began to wander in the indefinite field of hypotheses. barbicane wished to hold them in. "those," said he, "are speculations too high, problems really insoluble. do not let us enter into them. let us only admit the insufficiency of primordial attraction, and then by the inequality of rotation and revolution days and nights could succeed each other upon the moon as they do upon the earth. besides, even under those conditions life was possible." "then," asked michel ardan, "humanity has quite disappeared from the moon?" "yes," answered barbicane, "after having, doubtless, existed for thousands of centuries. then gradually the atmosphere becoming rarefied, the disc will again be uninhabitable like the terrestrial globe will one day become by cooling." "by cooling?" "certainly," answered barbicane. "as the interior fires became extinguished the incandescent matter was concentrated and the lunar disc became cool. by degrees the consequences of this phenomenon came about--the disappearance of organic beings and the disappearance of vegetation. soon the atmosphere became rarefied, and was probably drawn away by terrestrial attraction; the breathable air disappeared, and so did water by evaporation. at that epoch the moon became uninhabitable, and was no longer inhabited. it was a dead world like it is to-day." "and you say that the like fate is reserved for the earth?" "very probably." "but when?" "when the cooling of its crust will have made it uninhabitable." "has the time it will take our unfortunate globe to melt been calculated?" "certainly." "and you know the reason?" "perfectly." "then tell us, sulky _savant_--you make me boil with impatience." "well, my worthy michel," answered barbicane tranquilly, "it is well known what diminution of temperature the earth suffers in the lapse of a century. now, according to certain calculations, that average temperature will be brought down to zero after a period of 400,000 years!" "four hundred thousand years!" exclaimed michel. "ah! i breathe again! i was really frightened. i imagined from listening to you that we had only fifty thousand years to live!" barbicane and nicholl could not help laughing at their companion's uneasiness. then nicholl, who wanted to have done with it, reminded them of the second question to be settled. "has the moon been inhabited?" he asked. the answer was unanimously in the affirmative. during this discussion, fruitful in somewhat hazardous theories, although it resumed the general ideas of science on the subject, the projectile had run rapidly towards the lunar equator, at the same time that it went farther away from the lunar disc. it had passed the circle of willem, and the 40th parallel, at a distance of 400 miles. then leaving pitatus to the right, on the 30th degree, it went along the south of the sea of clouds, of which it had already approached the north. different amphitheatres appeared confusedly under the white light of the full moon--bouillaud, purbach, almost square with a central crater, then arzachel, whose interior mountain shone with indefinable brilliancy. at last, as the projectile went farther and farther away, the details faded from the travellers' eyes, the mountains were confounded in the distance, and all that remained of the marvellous, fantastical, and wonderful satellite of the earth was the imperishable remembrance. chapter xix. a struggle with the impossible. for some time barbicane and his companions, mute and pensive, looked at this world, which they had only seen from a distance, like moses saw canaan, and from which they were going away for ever. the position of the projectile relatively to the moon was modified, and now its lower end was turned towards the earth. this change, verified by barbicane, surprised him greatly. if the bullet was going to gravitate round the satellite in an elliptical orbit, why was not its heaviest part turned towards it like the moon to the earth? there again was an obscure point. by watching the progress of the projectile they could see that it was following away from the moon an analogous curve to that by which it approached her. it was, therefore, describing a very long ellipsis which would probably extend to the point of equal attraction, where the influences of the earth and her satellite are neutralised. such was the conclusion which barbicane correctly drew from the facts observed, a conviction which his two friends shared with him. questions immediately began to shower upon him. "what will become of us after we have reached the neutral point?" asked michel ardan. "that is unknown!" answered barbicane. "but we can make suppositions, i suppose?" "we can make two," answered barbicane. "either the velocity of the projectile will then be insufficient, and it will remain entirely motionless on that line of double attraction--" "i would rather have the other supposition, whatever it is," replied michel. "or the velocity will be sufficient," resumed barbicane, "and it will continue its elliptical orbit, and gravitate eternally round the orb of night." "not very consoling that revolution," said michel, "to become the humble servants of a moon whom we are in the habit of considering our servant. and is that the future that awaits us?" neither barbicane nor nicholl answered. "why do you not answer?" asked the impatient michel. "there is nothing to answer," said nicholl. "can nothing be done?" "no," answered barbicane. "do you pretend to struggle with the impossible?" "why not? ought a frenchman and two americans to recoil at such a word?" "but what do you want to do?" "command the motion that is carrying us along!" "command it?" "yes," resumed michel, getting animated, "stop it or modify it; use it for the accomplishment of our plans." "and how, pray?" "that is your business! if artillerymen are not masters of their bullets they are no longer artillerymen. if the projectile commands the gunner, the gunner ought to be rammed instead into the cannon! fine _savants_, truly! who don't know now what to do after having induced me--" "induced!" cried barbicane and nicholl. "induced! what do you mean by that?" "no recriminations!" said michel. "i do not complain. the journey pleases me. the bullet suits me. but let us do all that is humanly possible to fall somewhere, if only upon the moon." "we should only be too glad, my worthy michel," answered barbicane, "but we have no means of doing it." "can we not modify the motion of the projectile?" "no." "nor diminish its speed?" "no." "not even by lightening it like they lighten an overloaded ship?" "what can we throw out?" answered nicholl. "we have no ballast on board. and besides, it seems to me that a lightened projectile would go on more quickly." "less quickly," said michel. "more quickly," replied nicholl. "neither more nor less quickly," answered barbicane, wishing to make his two friends agree, "for we are moving in the void where we cannot take specific weight into account." "very well," exclaimed michel ardan in a determined tone; "there is only one thing to do." "what is that?" asked nicholl. "have breakfast," imperturbably answered the audacious frenchman, who always brought that solution to the greatest difficulties. in fact, though that operation would have no influence on the direction of the projectile, it might be attempted without risk, and even successfully from the point of view of the stomach. decidedly the amiable michel had only good ideas. they breakfasted, therefore, at 2 a.m., but the hour was not of much consequence. michel served up his habitual _menu_, crowned by an amiable bottle out of his secret cellar. if ideas did not come into their heads the chambertin of 1863 must be despaired of. the meal over, observations began again. the objects they had thrown out of the projectile still followed it at the same invariable distance. it was evident that the bullet in its movement of translation round the moon had not passed through any atmosphere, for the specific weight of these objects would have modified their respective distances. there was nothing to see on the side of the terrestrial globe. the earth was only a day old, having been new at midnight the day before, and two days having to go by before her crescent, disengaged from the solar rays, could serve as a clock to the selenites, as in her movement of rotation each of her points always passes the same meridian of the moon every twenty-four hours. the spectacle was a different one on the side of the moon; the orb was shining in all its splendour amidst innumerable constellations, the rays of which could not trouble its purity. upon the disc the plains again wore the sombre tint which is seen from the earth. the rest of the nimbus was shining, and amidst the general blaze tycho stood out like a sun. barbicane could not manage any way to appreciate the velocity of the projectile, but reasoning demonstrated that this speed must be uniformly diminishing in conformity with the laws of rational mechanics. in fact, it being admitted that the bullet would describe an orbit round the moon, that orbit must necessarily be elliptical. science proves that it must be thus. no mobile circulation round any body is an exception to that law. all the orbits described in space are elliptical, those of satellites round their planets, those of planets around their sun, that of the sun round the unknown orb that serves as its central pivot. why should the projectile of the gun club escape that natural arrangement? now in elliptical orbits attracting bodies always occupy one of the foci of the ellipsis. the satellite is, therefore, nearer the body round which it gravitates at one moment than it is at another. when the earth is nearest the sun she is at her perihelion, and at her aphelion when most distant. the moon is nearest the earth at her perigee, and most distant at her apogee. to employ analogous expressions which enrich the language of astronomers, if the projectile remained a satellite of the moon, it ought to be said that it is in its "aposelene" at its most distant point, and at its "periselene" at its nearest. in the latter case the projectile ought to attain its maximum of speed, in the latter its minimum. now it was evidently going towards its "aposelene," and barbicane was right in thinking its speed would decrease up to that point, and gradually increase when it would again draw near the moon. that speed even would be absolutely _nil_ if the point was coexistent with that of attraction. barbicane studied the consequences of these different situations; he was trying what he could make of them when he was suddenly interrupted by a cry from michel ardan. "i'faith!" cried michel, "what fools we are!" "i don't say we are not," answered barbicane; "but why?" "because we have some very simple means of slackening the speed that is taking us away from the moon, and we do not use them." "and what are those means?" "that of utilising the force of recoil in our rockets." "ah, why not?" said nicholl. "we have not yet utilised that force, it is true," said barbicane, "but we shall do so." "when?" asked michel. "when the time comes. remark, my friends, that in the position now occupied by the projectile, a position still oblique to the lunar disc, our rockets, by altering its direction, might take it farther away instead of nearer to the moon. now i suppose it is the moon you want to reach?" "essentially," answered michel. "wait, then. through some inexplicable influence the projectile has a tendency to let its lower end fall towards the earth. it is probable that at the point of equal attraction its conical summit will be rigorously directed towards the moon. at that moment it may be hoped that its speed will be _nil_. that will be the time to act, and under the effort of our rockets we can, perhaps, provoke a direct fall upon the surface of the lunar disc." "bravo!" said michel. "we have not done it yet, and we could not do it as we passed the neutral point, because the projectile was still animated with too much velocity." "well reasoned out," said nicholl. "we must wait patiently," said barbicane, "and put every chance on our side; then, after having despaired so long, i again begin to think we shall reach our goal." this conclusion provoked hurrahs from michel ardan. no one of these daring madmen remembered the question they had all answered in the negative--no, the moon is not inhabited! no, the moon is probably not inhabitable! and yet they were going to do all they could to reach it. one question only now remained to be solved: at what precise moment would the projectile reach that point of equal attraction where the travellers would play their last card? in order to calculate that moment to within some seconds barbicane had only to have recourse to his travelling notes, and to take the different altitudes from lunar parallels. thus the time employed in going over the distance between the neutral point and the south pole must be equal to the distance which separates the south pole from the neutral point. the hours representing the time it took were carefully noted down, and the calculation became easy. barbicane found that this point would be reached by the projectile at 1 a.m. on the 8th of december. it was then 3 a.m. on the 7th of december. therefore, if nothing intervened, the projectile would reach the neutral point in twenty-two hours. the rockets had been put in their places to slacken the fall of the bullet upon the moon, and now the bold fellows were going to use them to provoke an exactly contrary effect. however that may be, they were ready, and there was nothing to do but await the moment for setting fire to them. "as there is nothing to do," said nicholl, "i have a proposition to make." "what is that?" asked barbicane. "i propose we go to sleep." "that is a nice idea!" exclaimed michel ardan. "it is forty hours since we have closed our eyes," said nicholl. "a few hours' sleep would set us up again." "never!" replied michel. "good," said nicholl; "every man to his humour--mine is to sleep." and lying down on a divan, nicholl was soon snoring like a forty-eight pound bullet. "nicholl is a sensible man," said barbicane soon. "i shall imitate him." a few minutes after he was joining his bass to the captain's baritone. "decidedly," said michel ardan, when he found himself alone, "these practical people sometimes do have opportune ideas." and stretching out his long legs, and folding his long arms under his head, michel went to sleep too. but this slumber could neither be durable nor peaceful. too many preoccupations filled the minds of these three men, and a few hours after, at about 7 a.m., they all three awoke at once. the projectile was still moving away from the moon, inclining its conical summit more and more towards her. this phenomenon was inexplicable at present, but it fortunately aided the designs of barbicane. another seventeen hours and the time for action would have come. that day seemed long. however bold they might be, the travellers felt much anxiety at the approach of the minute that was to decide everything, either their fall upon the moon or their imprisonment in an immutable orbit. they therefore counted the hours, which went too slowly for them, barbicane and nicholl obstinately plunged in calculations, michel walking up and down the narrow space between the walls contemplating with longing eye the impassible moon. sometimes thoughts of the earth passed through their minds. they saw again their friends of the gun club, and the dearest of them all, j.t. maston. at that moment the honourable secretary must have been occupying his post on the rocky mountains. if he should perceive the projectile upon the mirror of his gigantic telescope what would he think? after having seen it disappear behind the south pole of the moon, they would see it reappear at the north! it was, therefore, the satellite of a satellite! had j.t. maston sent that unexpected announcement into the world? was this to be the _dénouement_ of the great enterprise? meanwhile the day passed without incident. terrestrial midnight came. the 8th of december was about to commence. another hour and the point of equal attraction would be reached. what velocity then animated the projectile? they could form no estimate; but no error could vitiate barbicane's calculations. at 1 a.m. that velocity ought to be and would be _nil_. besides, another phenomenon would mark the stopping point of the projectile on the neutral line. in that spot the two attractions, terrestrial and lunar, would be annihilated. objects would not weigh anything. this singular fact, which had so curiously surprised barbicane and his companions before, must again come about under identical circumstances. it was at that precise moment they must act. the conical summit of the bullet had already sensibly turned towards the lunar disc. the projectile was just right for utilising all the recoil produced by setting fire to the apparatus. chance was therefore in the travellers' favour. if the velocity of the projectile were to be absolutely annihilated upon the neutral point, a given motion, however slight, towards the moon would determine its fall. "five minutes to one," said nicholl. "everything is ready," answered michel ardan, directing his match towards the flame of the gas. "wait!" said barbicane, chronometer in hand. at that moment weight had no effect. the travellers felt its complete disappearance in themselves. they were near the neutral point if they had not reached it. "one o'clock!" said barbicane. michel ardan put his match to a contrivance that put all the fuses into instantaneous communication. no detonation was heard outside, where air was wanting, but through the port-lights barbicane saw the prolonged flame, which was immediately extinguished. the projectile had a slight shock which was very sensibly felt in the interior. the three friends looked, listened, without speaking, hardly breathing. the beating of their hearts might have been heard in the absolute silence. "are we falling?" asked michel ardan at last. "no," answered nicholl; "for the bottom of the projectile has not turned towards the lunar disc!" at that moment barbicane left his window and turned towards his two companions. he was frightfully pale, his forehead wrinkled, his lips contracted. "we are falling!" said he. "ah!" cried michel ardan, "upon the moon?" "upon the earth!" answered barbicane. "the devil!" cried michel ardan; and he added philosophically, "when we entered the bullet we did not think it would be so difficult to get out of it again." in fact, the frightful fall had begun. the velocity kept by the projectile had sent it beyond the neutral point. the explosion of the fuses had not stopped it. that velocity which had carried the projectile beyond the neutral line as it went was destined to do the same upon its return. the law of physics condemned it, in its elliptical orbit, _to pass by every point it had already passed_. it was a terrible fall from a height of 78,000 leagues, and which no springs could deaden. according to the laws of ballistics the projectile would strike the earth with a velocity equal to that which animated it as it left the columbiad--a velocity of "16,000 metres in the last second!" and in order to give some figures for comparison it has been calculated that an object thrown from the towers of notre dame, the altitude of which is only 200 feet, would reach the pavement with a velocity of 120 leagues an hour. here the projectile would strike the earth with a velocity of 57,600 _leagues an hour_. "we are lost men," said nicholl coldly. "well, if we die," answered barbicane, with a sort of religious enthusiasm, "the result of our journey will be magnificently enlarged! god will tell us his own secret! in the other life the soul will need neither machines nor engines in order to know! it will be identified with eternal wisdom!" "true," replied michel ardan: "the other world may well console us for that trifling orb called the moon!" barbicane crossed his arms upon his chest with a movement of sublime resignation. "god's will be done!" he said. chapter xx. the soundings of the susquehanna. well, lieutenant, and what about those soundings?" "i think the operation is almost over, sir. but who would have expected to find such a depth so near land, at 100 leagues only from the american coast?" "yes, bronsfield, there is a great depression," said captain blomsberry. "there exists a submarine valley here, hollowed out by humboldt's current, which runs along the coasts of america to the straits of magellan." "those great depths," said the lieutenant, "are not favourable for the laying of telegraph cables. a smooth plateau is the best, like the one the american cable lies on between valentia and newfoundland." "i agree with you, bronsfield. and, may it please you, lieutenant, where are we now?" "sir," answered bronsfield, "we have at this moment 21,500 feet of line out, and the bullet at the end of the line has not yet touched the bottom, for the sounding-lead would have come up again." "brook's apparatus is an ingenious one," said captain blomsberry. "it allows us to obtain very correct soundings." "touched!" cried at that moment one of the forecastle-men who was superintending the operation. the captain and lieutenant went on to the forecastle-deck. "what depth are we in?" asked the captain. "twenty-one thousand seven hundred and sixty-two feet," answered the lieutenant, writing it down in his pocket-book. "very well, bronsfield," said the captain, "i will go and mark the result on my chart. now have the sounding-line brought in--that is a work of several hours. meanwhile the engineer shall have his fires lighted, and we shall be ready to start as soon as you have done. it is 10 p.m., and with your permission, lieutenant, i shall turn in." "certainly, sir, certainly!" answered lieutenant bronsfield amiably. the captain of the susquehanna, a worthy man if ever there was one, the very humble servant of his officers, went to his cabin, took his brandy-and-water with many expressions of satisfaction to the steward, got into bed, not before complimenting his servant on the way he made beds, and sank into peaceful slumber. it was then 10 p.m. the eleventh day of the month of december was going to end in a magnificent night. the susquehanna, a corvette of 500 horse power, of the united states navy, was taking soundings in the pacific at about a hundred leagues from the american coast, abreast of that long peninsula on the coast of new mexico. the wind had gradually fallen. there was not the slightest movement in the air. the colours of the corvette hung from the mast motionless and inert. the captain, jonathan blomsberry, cousin-german to colonel blomsberry, one of the gun club members who had married a horschbidden, the captain's aunt and daughter of an honourable kentucky merchant--captain blomsberry could not have wished for better weather to execute the delicate operation of sounding. his corvette had felt nothing of that great tempest which swept away the clouds heaped up on the rocky mountains, and allowed the course of the famous projectile to be observed. all was going on well, and he did not forget to thank heaven with all the fervour of a presbyterian. the series of soundings executed by the susquehanna were intended for finding out the most favourable bottoms for the establishment of a submarine cable between the hawaiian islands and the american coast. it was a vast project set on foot by a powerful company. its director, the intelligent cyrus field, meant even to cover all the islands of oceania with a vast electric network--an immense enterprise worthy of american genius. it was to the corvette susquehanna that the first operations of sounding had been entrusted. during the night from the 11th to the 12th of december she was exactly in north lat. 27° 7' and 41° 37' long., west from the washington meridian. the moon, then in her last quarter, began to show herself above the horizon. after captain blomsberry's departure, lieutenant bronsfield and a few officers were together on the poop. as the moon appeared their thoughts turned towards that orb which the eyes of a whole hemisphere were then contemplating. the best marine glasses could not have discovered the projectile wandering round the demi-globe, and yet they were all pointed at the shining disc which millions of eyes were looking at in the same moment. "they started ten days ago," then said lieutenant bronsfield. "what can have become of them?" "they have arrived, sir," exclaimed a young midshipman, "and they are doing what all travellers do in a new country, they are looking about them." "i am certain of it as you say so, my young friend," answered lieutenant bronsfield, smiling. "still," said another officer, "their arrival cannot be doubted. the projectile must have reached the moon at the moment she was full, at midnight on the 5th. we are now at the 11th of december; that makes six days. now in six times twenty-four hours, with no darkness, they have had time to get comfortably settled. it seems to me that i see our brave countrymen encamped at the bottom of a valley, on the borders of a selenite stream, near the projectile, half buried by its fall, amidst volcanic remains, captain nicholl beginning his levelling operations, president barbicane putting his travelling notes in order, michel ardan performing the lunar solitudes with his londrès cigar--" "oh, it must be so; it is so!" exclaimed the young midshipman, enthusiastic at the ideal description of his superior. "i should like to believe it," answered lieutenant bronsfield, who was seldom carried away. "unfortunately direct news from the lunar world will always be wanting." "excuse me, sir," said the midshipman, "but cannot president barbicane write?" a roar of laughter greeted this answer. "not letters," answered the young man quickly. "the post-office has nothing to do with that." "perhaps you mean the telegraph-office?" said one of the officers ironically. "nor that either," answered the midshipman, who would not give in. "but it is very easy to establish graphic communication with the earth." "and how, pray?" "by means of the telescope on long's peak. you know that it brings the moon to within two leagues only of the rocky mountains, and that it allows them to see objects having nine feet of diameter on her surface. well, our industrious friends will construct a gigantic alphabet! they will write words 600 feet long, and sentences a league long, and then they can send up news!" the young midshipman, who certainly had some imagination was loudly applauded. lieutenant bronsfield himself was convinced that the idea could have been carried out. he added that by sending luminous rays, grouped by means of parabolical mirrors, direct communications could also be established--in fact, these rays would be as visible on the surface of venus or mars as the planet neptune is from the earth. he ended by saying that the brilliant points already observed on the nearest planets might be signals made to the earth. but he said, that though by these means they could have news from the lunar world, they could not send any from the terrestrial world unless the selenites have at their disposition instruments with which to make distant observations. "that is evident," answered one of the officers, "but what has become of the travellers? what have they done? what have they seen? that is what interests us. besides, if the experiment has succeeded, which i do not doubt, it will be done again. the columbiad is still walled up in the soil of florida. it is, therefore, now only a question of powder and shot, and every time the moon passes the zenith we can send it a cargo of visitors." "it is evident," answered lieutenant bronsfield, "that j.t. maston will go and join his friends one of these days." "if he will have me," exclaimed the midshipman, "i am ready to go with him." "oh, there will be plenty of amateurs, and if they are allowed to go, half the inhabitants of the earth will soon have emigrated to the moon!" this conversation between the officers of the susquehanna was kept up till about 1 a.m. it would be impossible to transcribe the overwhelming systems and theories which were emitted by these audacious minds. since barbicane's attempt it seemed that nothing was impossible to americans. they had already formed the project of sending, not another commission of _savants_, but a whole colony, and a whole army of infantry, artillery, and cavalry to conquer the lunar world. at 1 a.m. the sounding-line was not all hauled in. ten thousand feet remained out, which would take several more hours to bring in. according to the commander's orders the fires had been lighted, and the pressure was going up already. the susquehanna might have started at once. at that very moment--it was 1.17 a.m.--lieutenant bronsfield was about to leave his watch to turn in when his attention was attracted by a distant and quite unexpected hissing sound. his comrades and he at first thought that the hissing came from an escape of steam, but upon lifting up his head he found that it was high up in the air. they had not time to question each other before the hissing became of frightful intensity, and suddenly to their dazzled eyes appeared an enormous bolis, inflamed by the rapidity of its course, by its friction against the atmospheric strata. this ignited mass grew huger as it came nearer, and fell with the noise of thunder upon the bowsprit of the corvette, which it smashed off close to the stem, and vanished in the waves. a few feet nearer and the susquehanna would have gone down with all on board. at that moment captain blomsberry appeared half-clothed, and rushing in the forecastle, where his officers had preceded him-"with your permission, gentlemen, what has happened?" he asked. and the midshipman, making himself the mouthpiece of them all, cried out-"commander, it is 'they' come back again." chapter xxi. j.t. maston called in. emotion was great on board the susquehanna. officers and sailors forgot the terrible danger they had just been in--the danger of being crushed and sunk. they only thought of the catastrophe which terminated the journey. thus, therefore, the moat audacious enterprise of ancient and modern times lost the life of the bold adventurers who had attempted it. "it is 'they' come back," the young midshipman had said, and they had all understood. no one doubted that the bolis was the projectile of the gun club. opinions were divided about the fate of the travellers. "they are dead!" said one. "they are alive," answered the other. "the water is deep here, and the shock has been deadened." "but they will have no air, and will die suffocated!" "burnt!" answered the other. "their projectile was only an incandescent mass as it crossed the atmosphere." "what does it matter?" was answered unanimously, "living or dead they must be brought up from there." meanwhile captain blomsberry had called his officers together, and with their permission he held a council. something must be done immediately. the most immediate was to haul up the projectile--a difficult operation, but not an impossible one. but the corvette wanted the necessary engines, which would have to be powerful and precise. it was, therefore, resolved to put into the nearest port, and to send word to the gun club about the fall of the bullet. this determination was taken unanimously. the choice of a port was discussed. the neighbouring coast had no harbour on the 27th degree of latitude. higher up, above the peninsula of monterey, was the important town which has given its name to it. but, seated on the confines of a veritable desert, it had no telegraphic communication with the interior, and electricity alone could spread the important news quickly enough. some degrees above lay the bay of san francisco. through the capital of the gold country communication with the centre of the union would be easy. by putting all steam on, the susquehanna, in less than two days, could reach the port of san francisco. she must, therefore, start at once. the fires were heaped up, and they could set sail immediately. two thousand fathoms of sounding still remained in the water. captain blomsberry would not lose precious time in hauling it in, and resolved to cut the line. "we will fix the end to a buoy," said he, "and the buoy will indicate the exact point where the projectile fell." "besides," answered lieutenant bronsfield, "we have our exact bearings: north lat. 27° 7', and west long. 41° 37'." "very well, mr. bronsfield," answered the captain; "with your permission, have the line cut." a strong buoy, reinforced by a couple of spars, was thrown out on to the surface of the ocean. the end of the line was solidly struck beneath, and only submitted to the ebb and flow of the surges, so that it would not drift much. at that moment the engineer came to warn the captain that he had put the pressure on, and they could start. the captain thanked him for his excellent communication. then he gave n.n.e. as the route. the corvette was put about, and made for the bay of san francisco with all steam on. it was then 3 a.m. two hundred leagues to get over was not much for a quick vessel like the susquehanna. it got over that distance in thirty-six hours, and on the 14th of december, at 1.27 p.m., she would enter the bay of san francisco. at the sight of this vessel of the national navy arriving with all speed on, her bowsprit gone, and her mainmast propped up, public curiosity was singularly excited. a compact crowd was soon assembled on the quays awaiting the landing. after weighing anchor captain blomsberry and lieutenant bronsfield got down into an eight-oared boat which carried them rapidly to the land. they jumped out on the quay. "the telegraph-office?" they asked, without answering one of the thousand questions that were showered upon them. the port inspector guided them himself to the telegraph-office, amidst an immense crowd of curious people. blomsberry and bronsfield went into the office whilst the crowd crushed against the door. a few minutes later one message was sent in four different directions:--1st, to the secretary of the navy, washington; 2nd, to the vice-president of the gun club, baltimore; 3rd, to the honourable j.t. maston, long's peak, rocky mountains; 4th, to the sub-director of the cambridge observatory, massachusetts. it ran as follows:-"in north lat. 20° 7', and west long. 41° 37', the projectile of the columbiad fell into the pacific, on december 12th, at 1.17 am. send instructions.--blomsberry, commander susquehanna." five minutes afterwards the whole town of san francisco knew the tidings. before 6 p.m. the different states of the union had intelligence of the supreme catastrophe. after midnight, through the cable, the whole of europe knew the result of the great american enterprise. it would be impossible to describe the effect produced throughout the world by the unexpected news. on receipt of the telegram the secretary of the navy telegraphed to the susquehanna to keep under fire, and wait in the bay of san francisco. she was to be ready to set sail day or night. the observatory of cambridge had an extraordinary meeting, and, with the serenity which distinguishes scientific bodies, it peacefully discussed the scientific part of the question. at the gun club there was an explosion. all the artillerymen were assembled. the vice-president, the honourable wilcome, was just reading the premature telegram by which messrs. maston and belfast announced that the projectile had just been perceived in the gigantic reflector of long's peak. this communication informed them also that the bullet, retained by the attraction of the moon, was playing the part of sub-satellite in the solar world. the truth on this subject is now known. however, upon the arrival of blomsberry's message, which so formally contradicted j.t. maston's telegram, two parties were formed in the bosom of the gun club. on the one side were members who admitted the fall of the projectile, and consequently the return of the travellers. on the other were those who, holding by the observations at long's peak, concluded that the commander of the susquehanna was mistaken. according to the latter, the pretended projectile was only a bolis, nothing but a bolis, a shooting star, which in its fall had fractured the corvette. their argument could not very well be answered, because the velocity with which it was endowed had made its observation very difficult. the commander of the susquehanna and his officers might certainly have been mistaken in good faith. one argument certainly was in their favour: if the projectile had fallen on the earth it must have touched the terrestrial spheroid upon the 27th degree of north latitude, and, taking into account the time that had elapsed, and the earth's movement of rotation, between the 41st and 42nd degree of west longitude. however that might be, it was unanimously decided in the gun club that blomsberry's brother bilsby and major elphinstone should start at once for san francisco and give their advice about the means of dragging up the projectile from the depths of the ocean. these men started without losing an instant, and the railway which was soon to cross the whole of central america took them to st. louis, where rapid mail-coaches awaited them. almost at the same moment that the secretary of the navy, the vice-president of the gun club, and the sub-director of the observatory received the telegram from san francisco, the honourable j.t. maston felt the most violent emotion of his whole existence--an emotion not even equalled by that he had experienced when his celebrated cannon was blown up, and which, like it, nearly cost him his life. it will be remembered that the secretary of the gun club had started some minutes after the projectile--and almost as quickly--for the station of long's peak in the rocky mountains. the learned j. belfast, director of the cambridge observatory, accompanied him. arrived at the station the two friends had summarily installed themselves, and no longer left the summit of their enormous telescope. we know that this gigantic instrument had been set up on the reflecting system, called "front view" by the english. this arrangement only gave one reflection of objects, and consequently made the view much clearer. the result was that j.t. maston and belfast, whilst observing, were stationed in the upper part of the instrument instead of in the lower. they reached it by a twisted staircase, a masterpiece of lightness, and below them lay the metal, well terminated by the metallic mirror, 280 feet deep. now it was upon the narrow platform placed round the telescope that the two _savants_ passed their existence, cursing the daylight which hid the moon from their eyes, and the clouds which obstinately veiled her at night. who can depict their delight when, after waiting several days, during the night of december 5th they perceived the vehicle that was carrying their friends through space? to that delight succeeded deep disappointment when, trusting to incomplete observations, they sent out with their first telegram to the world the erroneous affirmation that the projectile had become a satellite of the moon gravitating in an immutable orbit. after that instant the bullet disappeared behind the invisible disc of the moon. but when it ought to have reappeared on the invisible disc the impatience of j.t. maston and his no less impatient companion may be imagined. at every minute of the night they thought they should see the projectile again, and they did not see it. hence between them arose endless discussions and violent disputes, belfast affirming that the projectile was not visible, j.t. maston affirming that any one but a blind man could see it. "it is the bullet!" repeated j.t. maston. "no!" answered belfast, "it is an avalanche falling from a lunar mountain!" "well, then, we shall see it to-morrow." "no, it will be seen no more. it is carried away into space." "we shall see it, i tell you." "no, we shall not." and while these interjections were being showered like hail, the well-known irritability of the secretary of the gun club constituted a permanent danger to the director, belfast. their existence together would soon have become impossible, but an unexpected event cut short these eternal discussions. during the night between the 14th and 15th of december the two irreconcilable friends were occupied in observing the lunar disc. j.t. maston was, as usual, saying strong things to the learned belfast, who was getting angry too. the secretary of the gun club declared for the thousandth time that he had just perceived the projectile, adding even that michel ardan's face had appeared at one of the port-lights. he was emphasising his arguments by a series of gestures which his redoubtable hook rendered dangerous. at that moment belfast's servant appeared upon the platform--it was 10 p.m.--and gave him a telegram. it was the message from the commander of the susquehanna. belfast tore the envelope, read the inclosure, and uttered a cry. "what is it?" said j.t. maston. "it's the bullet!" "what of that?" "it has fallen upon the earth!" another cry; this time a howl answered him. he turned towards j.t. maston. the unfortunate fellow, leaning imprudently over the metal tube, had disappeared down the immense telescope--a fall of 280 feet! belfast, distracted, rushed towards the orifice of the reflector. he breathed again. j.t. maston's steel hook had caught in one of the props which maintained the platform of the telescope. he was uttering formidable cries. belfast called. help came, and the imprudent secretary was hoisted up, not without trouble. he reappeared unhurt at the upper orifice. "suppose i had broken the mirror?" said he. "you would have paid for it," answered belfast severely. "and where has the infernal bullet fallen?" asked j.t. maston. "into the pacific." "let us start at once." a quarter of an hour afterwards the two learned friends were descending the slope of the rocky mountains, and two days afterwards they reached san francisco at the same time as their friends of the gun club, having killed five horses on the road. elphinstone, blomsberry, and bilsby rushed up to them upon their arrival. "what is to be done?" they exclaimed. "the bullet must be fished up," answered j.t. maston, "and as soon as possible!" chapter xxii. picked up. the very spot where the projectile had disappeared under the waves was exactly known. the instruments for seizing it and bringing it to the surface of the ocean were still wanting. they had to be invented and then manufactured. american engineers could not be embarrassed by such a trifle. the grappling-irons once established and steam helping, they were assured of raising the projectile, notwithstanding its weight, which diminished the density of the liquid amidst which it was plunged. but it was not enough to fish up the bullet. it was necessary to act promptly in the interest of the travellers. no one doubted that they were still living. "yes," repeated j.t. maston incessantly, whose confidence inspired everybody, "our friends are clever fellows, and they cannot have fallen like imbeciles. they are alive, alive and well, but we must make haste in order to find them so. he had no anxiety about provisions and water. they had enough for a long time! but air!--air would soon fail them. then they must make haste!" and they did make haste. they prepared the susquehanna for her new destination. her powerful engines were arranged to be used for the hauling machines. the aluminium projectile only weighed 19,250 lbs., a much less weight than that of the transatlantic cable, which was picked up under similar circumstances. the only difficulty lay in the smooth sides of the cylindro-conical bullet, which made it difficult to grapple. with that end in view the engineer murchison, summoned to san francisco, caused enormous grappling-irons to be fitted upon an automatical system which would not let the projectile go again if they succeeded in seizing it with their powerful pincers. he also had some diving-dresses prepared, which, by their impermeable and resisting texture, allowed divers to survey the bottom of the sea. he likewise embarked on board the susquehanna apparatuses for compressed air, very ingeniously contrived. they were veritable rooms, with port-lights in them, and which, by introducing the water into certain compartments, could be sunk to great depths. these apparatuses were already at san francisco, where they had been used in the construction of a submarine dyke. this was fortunate, for there would not have been time to make them. yet notwithstanding the perfection of the apparatus, notwithstanding the ingenuity of the _savants_ who were to use them, the success of the operation was anything but assured. fishing up a bullet from 20,000 feet under water must be an uncertain operation. and even if the bullet should again be brought to the surface, how had the travellers borne the terrible shock that even 20,000 feet of water would not sufficiently deaden? in short, everything must be done quickly. j.t. maston hurried on his workmen day and night. he was ready either to buckle on the diver's dress or to try the air-apparatus in order to find his courageous friends. still, notwithstanding the diligence with which the different machines were got ready, notwithstanding the considerable sums which were placed at the disposition of the gun club by the government of the union, five long days (five centuries) went by before the preparations were completed. during that time public opinion was excited to the highest point. telegrams were incessantly exchanged all over the world through the electric wires and cables. the saving of barbicane, nicholl, and michel ardan became an international business. all the nations that had subscribed to the enterprise of the gun club were equally interested in the safety of the travellers. at last the grappling-chains, air-chambers, and automatic grappling-irons were embarked on board the susquehanna. j.t. maston, the engineer murchison, and the gun club delegates already occupied their cabins. there was nothing to do but to start. on the 21st of december, at 8 p.m., the corvette set sail on a calm sea with a rather cold north-east wind blowing. all the population of san francisco crowded on to the quays, mute and anxious, reserving its hurrahs for the return. the steam was put on to its maximum of tension, and the screw of the susquehanna carried it rapidly out of the bay. it would be useless to relate the conversations on board amongst the officers, sailors, and passengers. all these men had but one thought. their hearts all beat with the same emotion. what were barbicane and his companions doing whilst they were hastening to their succour? what had become of them? had they been able to attempt some audacious manoeuvre to recover their liberty? no one could say. the truth is that any attempt would have failed. sunk to nearly two leagues under the ocean, their metal prison would defy any effort of its prisoners. on the 23rd of december, at 8 a.m., after a rapid passage, the susquehanna ought to be on the scene of the disaster. they were obliged to wait till twelve o'clock to take their exact bearings. the buoy fastened on to the sounding-line had not yet been seen. at noon captain blomsberry, helped by his officers, who controlled the observation, made his point in presence of the delegates of the gun club. that was an anxious moment. the susquehanna was found to be at some minutes west of the very spot where the projectile had disappeared under the waves. the direction of the corvette was therefore given in view of reaching the precise spot. at 12.47 p.m. the buoy was sighted. it was in perfect order, and did not seem to have drifted far. "at last!" exclaimed j.t. maston. "shall we begin?" asked captain blomsberry. "without losing a second," answered j.t. maston. every precaution was taken to keep the corvette perfectly motionless. before trying to grapple the projectile, the engineer, murchison, wished to find out its exact position on the sea-bottom. the submarine apparatus destined for this search received their provision of air. the handling of these engines is not without danger, for at 20,000 feet below the surface of the water and under such great pressure they are exposed to ruptures the consequences of which would be terrible. j.t. maston, the commander's brother, and the engineer murchison, without a thought of these dangers, took their places in the air-chambers. the commander, on his foot-bridge, presided over the operation, ready to stop or haul in his chains at the least signal. the screw had been taken off, and all the force of the machines upon the windlass would soon have brought up the apparatus on board. the descent began at 1.25 p.m., and the chamber, dragged down by its reservoirs filled with water, disappeared under 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 of the submarine apparatus. these latter forgot themselves, and, glued to the panes of the port-lights, they attentively observed the liquid masses they were passing through. the descent was rapid. at 2.17 p.m. j.t. maston and his companions had reached the bottom of the pacific; but they saw nothing except the arid desert which neither marine flora nor fauna any longer animated. by the light of their lamps, furnished with powerful reflectors, they could observe the dark layers of water in a rather large radius, but the projectile remained invisible in their eyes. the impatience of these bold divers could hardly be described. their apparatus being in electric communication with the corvette, they made a signal agreed upon, and the susquehanna carried their chamber over a mile of space at one yard from the soil. they thus explored all the submarine plain, deceived at every instant by optical delusions which cut them to the heart. here a rock, there a swelling of the ground, looked to them like the much-sought-for projectile; then they would soon find out their error and despair again. "where are they? where can they be?" cried j.t. maston. and the poor man called aloud to nicholl, barbicane, and michel ardan, as if his unfortunate friends could have heard him through that impenetrable medium! the search went on under those conditions until the vitiated state of the air in the apparatus forced the divers to go up again. the hauling in was begun at 6 p.m., and was not terminated before midnight. "we will try again to-morrow," said j.t. maston as he stepped on to the deck of the corvette. "yes," answered captain blomsberry. "and in another place." "yes." j.t. maston did not yet doubt of his ultimate success, but his companions, who were no longer intoxicated with the animation of the first few hours, already took in all the difficulties of the enterprise. what seemed easy at san francisco in open ocean appeared almost impossible. the chances of success diminished in a large proportion, and it was to chance alone that the finding of the projectile had to be left. the next day, the 24th of december, notwithstanding the fatigues of the preceding day, operations were resumed. the corvette moved some minutes farther west, and the apparatus, provisioned with air again, took the same explorers to the depths of the ocean. all that day was passed in a fruitless search. the bed of the sea was a desert. the day of the 25th brought no result, neither did that of the 26th. it was disheartening. they thought of the unfortunate men shut up for twenty-six days in the projectile. perhaps they were all feeling the first symptoms of suffocation, even if they had escaped the dangers of their fall. the air was getting exhausted, and doubtless with the air their courage and spirits. "the air very likely, but their courage never," said j.t. maston. on the 28th, after two days' search, all hope was lost. this bullet was an atom in the immensity of the sea! they must give up the hope of finding it. still j.t. maston would not hear about leaving. he would not abandon the place without having at least found the tomb of his friends. but captain blomsberry could not stay on obstinately, and notwithstanding the opposition of the worthy secretary, he was obliged to give orders to set sail. on the 29th of december, at 9 a.m., the susquehanna, heading north-east, began to return to the bay of san francisco. it was 10 a.m. the corvette was leaving slowly and as if with regret the scene of the catastrophe, when the sailor at the masthead, who was on the look-out, called out all at once-"a buoy on the lee bow!" the officers looked in the direction indicated. they saw through their telescopes the object signalled, which did look like one of those buoys used for marking the openings of bays or rivers; but, unlike them, a flag floating in the wind surmounted a cone which emerged five or six feet. this buoy shone in the sunshine as if made of plates of silver. the commander, blomsberry, j.t. maston, and the delegates of the gun club ascended the foot-bridge and examined the object thus drifting on the waves. all looked with feverish anxiety, but in silence. none of them dared utter the thought that came into all their minds. the corvette approached to within two cables' length of the object. a shudder ran through the whole crew. the flag was an american one! at that moment a veritable roar was heard. it was the worthy j.t. maston, who had fallen in a heap; forgetting on the one hand that he had only an iron hook for one arm, and on the other that a simple gutta-percha cap covered his cranium-box, he had given himself a formidable blow. they rushed towards him and picked him up. they recalled him to life. and what were his first words? "ah! triple brutes! quadruple idiots! quintuple boobies that we are!" "what is the matter?" every one round him exclaimed. "what the matter is?" "speak, can't you?" "it is, imbeciles," shouted the terrible secretary, "it is the bullet only weighs 19,250 lbs!" "well?" "and it displaces 28 tons, or 56,000 lbs., consequently _it floats_!" ah! how that worthy man did underline the verb "to float!" and it was the truth! all, yes! all these _savants_ had forgotten this fundamental law, that in consequence of its specific lightness the projectile, after having been dragged by its fall to the greatest depths of the ocean, had naturally returned to the surface; and now it was floating tranquilly whichever way the wind carried them. the boats had been lowered. j.t. maston and his friends rushed into them. the excitement was at its highest point. all hearts palpitated whilst the boats rowed towards the projectile. what did it contain--the living or the dead? the living. yes! unless death had struck down barbicane and his companions since they had hoisted the flag! profound silence reigned in the boats. all hearts stopped beating. eyes no longer performed their office. one of the port-lights of the projectile was opened. some pieces of glass remaining in the frame proved that it had been broken. this port-light was situated actually five feet above water. a boat drew alongside--that of j.t. maston. he rushed to the broken window. at that moment the joyful and clear voice of michel ardan was heard exclaiming in the accents of victory--"double blank, barbicane, double blank!" barbicane, michel ardan, and nicholl were playing at dominoes. chapter xxiii. the end. it will be remembered that immense sympathy accompanied the three travellers upon their departure. if the beginning of their enterprise had caused such excitement in the old and new world, what enthusiasm must welcome their return! would not those millions of spectators who had invaded the floridian peninsula rush to meet the sublime adventurers? would those legions of foreigners from all points of the globe, now in america, leave the union without seeing barbicane, nicholl, and michel ardan once more? no, and the ardent passion of the public would worthily respond to the grandeur of the enterprise. human beings who had left the terrestrial spheroid, who had returned after their strange journey into celestial space, could not fail to be received like the prophet elijah when he returned to the earth. to see them first, to hear them afterwards, was the general desire. this desire was to be very promptly realised by almost all the inhabitants of the union. barbicane, michel ardan, nicholl, and the delegates of the gun club returned without delay to baltimore, and were there received with indescribable enthusiasm. the president's travelling notes were ready to be given up for publicity. the _new york herald_ bought this manuscript at a price which is not yet known, but which must have been enormous. in fact, during the publication of the _journey to the moon_ they printed 5,000,000 copies of that newspaper. three days after the travellers' return to the earth the least details of their expedition were known. the only thing remaining to be done was to see the heroes of this superhuman enterprise. the exploration of barbicane and his friends around the moon had allowed them to control the different theories about the terrestrial satellite. these _savants_ had observed it _de visu_ and under quite peculiar circumstances. it was now known which systems were to be rejected, which admitted, upon the formation of this orb, its origin, and its inhabitability. its past, present, and future had given up their secrets. what could be objected to conscientious observations made at less than forty miles from that curious mountain of tycho, the strangest mountain system of lunar orography? what answers could be made to _savants_ who had looked into the dark depths of the amphitheatre of pluto? who could contradict these audacious men whom the hazards of their enterprise had carried over the invisible disc of the moon, which no human eye had ever seen before? it was now their prerogative to impose the limits of that selenographic science which had built up the lunar world like cuvier did the skeleton of a fossil, and to say, "the moon was this, a world inhabitable and inhabited anterior to the earth! the moon is this, a world now uninhabitable and uninhabited!" in order to welcome the return of the most illustrious of its members and his two companions, the gun club thought of giving them a banquet; but a banquet worthy of them, worthy of the american people, and under such circumstances that all the inhabitants of the union could take a direct part in it. all the termini of the railroads in the state were joined together by movable rails. then, in all the stations hung with the same flags, decorated with the same ornaments, were spread tables uniformly dressed. at a certain time, severely calculated upon electric clocks which beat the seconds at the same instant, the inhabitants were invited to take their places at the same banquet. during four days, from the 5th to the 9th of january, the trains were suspended like they are on sundays upon the railways of the union, and all the lines were free. one locomotive alone, a very fast engine, dragging a state saloon, had the right of circulating, during these four days, upon the railways of the united states. this locomotive, conducted by a stoker and a mechanic, carried, by a great favour, the honourable j.t. maston, secretary of the gun club. the saloon was reserved for president barbicane, captain nicholl, and michel ardan. the train left the station of baltimore upon the whistle of the engine-driver amidst the hurrahs and all the admiring interjections of the american language. it went at the speed of eighty leagues an hour. but what was that speed compared to the one with which the three heroes had left the columbiad? thus they went from one town to another, finding the population in crowds upon their passage saluting them with the same acclamations, and showering upon them the same "bravoes." they thus travelled over the east of the union through pennsylvania, connecticut, massachusetts, vermont, maine, and new brunswick; north and west through new york, ohio, michigan, and wisconsin; south through illinois, missouri, arkansas, texas, and louisiana; south-east through alabama and florida, georgia, and the carolinas; they visited the centre through tennessee, kentucky, virginia, and indiana; then after the station of washington they re-entered baltimore, and during four days they could imagine that the united states of america, seated at one immense banquet, saluted them simultaneously with the same hurrahs. this apotheosis was worthy of these heroes, whom fable would have placed in the ranks of demigods. and now would this attempt, without precedent in the annals of travels, have any practical result? would direct communication ever be established with the moon? would a service of navigation ever be founded across space for the solar world? will people ever go from planet to planet, from jupiter to mercury, and later on from one star to another, from the polar star to sirius, would a method of locomotion allow of visiting the suns which swarm in the firmament? no answer can be given to these questions, but knowing the audacious ingenuity of the anglo-saxon race, no one will be astonished that the americans tried to turn president barbicane's experiment to account. thus some time after the return of the travellers the public received with marked favour the advertisement of a joint-stock company (limited), with a capital of a hundred million dollars, divided into a hundred thousand shares of a thousand dollars each, under the name of _national company for interstellar communication_--president, barbicane; vice-president, captain nicholl; secretary, j.t. maston; director, michel ardan--and as it is customary in america to foresee everything in business, even bankruptcy, the honourable harry trollope, commissary judge, and francis dayton were appointed beforehand assignees. the end.