No More Learning

All these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a mile, scarcely
stopping and following Captain Nemo, who beckoned me on by signs. Soon
the nature of the soil changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an extent
of slimy mud; we then traveled over a plain of seaweed of wild and
luxuriant vegetation. This sward was of close texture and soft to the
feet, rivaling the softest carpet woven by the hand of man. While
verdure was spread at our feet, it did not abandon our heads. A light
network of marine plants grew on the surface of the water.

We had been gone from the _Nautilus_ an hour and a half. It was near
noon; I knew this by the [v]perpendicularity of the sun's rays, which
were no longer refracted. The magical colors disappeared by degrees and
the shades of emerald and sapphire were effaced. We walked with a
regular step, which rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity;
indeed the slightest noise was transmitted with a quickness and
vividness to which the ear is unaccustomed on earth, water being a
better conductor of sound than air in the [v]ratio of four to one. At
this period the earth sloped downward; the light took a uniform tint. We
were at a depth of a hundred and five yards.

At this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though feebly; to
their intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish twilight, but we could
find our way well enough. It was not necessary to resort to the
Ruhmkorff apparatus as yet. At this moment Captain Nemo stopped and
waited till I joined him, pointing then to an obscure mass which loomed
in the shadow at a short distance.

"It is the forest of the island of Crespo," thought I, and I was not
mistaken.

This under-sea forest was composed of large tree-plants; and the moment
we penetrated under its vast [v]arcades I was struck by the singular
position of their branches: not an herb which carpeted the ground, not a
branch which clothed the trees was either broken or bent, nor did they
extend in a [v]horizontal direction; all stretched up toward the surface
of the sea. Not a filament, not a ribbon, however thin, but kept as
straight as a rod of iron. They were motionless, yet when bent to one
side by the hand they directly resumed their former position. Truly it
was a region of perpendicularity.

I soon accustomed myself to this fantastic position, as well as to the
comparative darkness which surrounded us. The sights were very
wonderful. Under numerous shrubs as large as trees on land were massed
bushes of living flowers--animals rather than plants--of various colors
and glowing softly in the obscurity of the ocean depth. Fish flies flew
from branch to branch like a swarm of humming-birds, while swarms of
marine creatures rose at our feet like a flight of snipes.

In about an hour Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt. I, for my part,
was not sorry, and we stretched ourselves under an arbor of plants, the
long thin blades of which stood up like arrows. I felt an irresistible
desire to sleep, an experience which happens to all divers. My eyes soon
closed behind the thick glasses and I fell into a heavy slumber. Captain
Nemo and his companion, stretched in the clear crystal, set me the
example.

How long I remained buried in this drowsiness I cannot judge; but when I
woke, the sun seemed sinking toward the horizon. Captain Nemo had
already risen, and I was beginning to stretch my limbs when an
unexpected sight brought me briskly to my feet.

A few steps off, a monster sea-spider, about forty inches high, was
watching me with squinting eyes, ready to spring on me. Though my
diver's dress was thick enough to defend me from the bite of this
animal, I could not help shuddering with horror. Conseil and the sailor
of the _Nautilus_ awoke at this moment. Captain Nemo pointed out the
hideous creature, which a blow from the butt end of a gun knocked over;
I saw the claws of the monster writhe in horrible convulsions. This
incident reminded me that other animals more to be feared might haunt
these obscure depths, against whose attacks my diving-clothes would not
protect me.

Indeed, I thought that this halt would mark the end of our walk; but I
was mistaken, for instead of returning to the _Nautilus_, we continued
our bold excursion. The ground was still on the incline; its declivity
seemed to be getting greater and to be leading us to lower depths. It
must have been about three o'clock when we reached a narrow valley
between high walls; thanks to the perfection of our apparatus, we were
far below the depth to which divers ever penetrate.

At our great depth the darkness thickened; ten paces away not an object
was visible. I was groping my way when I suddenly saw a brilliant white
light flash out ahead; Captain Nemo had turned on his electric torch.
The rest of us soon followed his example, and the sea, lit by our four
lanterns, was illuminated for a circle of forty yards.

Captain Nemo still plunged onward into the dark reaches of the forest,
whose trees were getting scarcer at every step. At last, after about
four hours, this marvelous excursion came to an end. A wall of superb
rocks rose before us, a heap of gigantic blocks, an enormous granite
shore. It was the prop of the island of Crespo. It was the earth!

The return now began. Captain Nemo resumed his place at the head of his
little band and directed the course without hesitation. I thought we
were not following the road we had come, on our return to the
_Nautilus_. The new way was very steep and consequently very painful; we
approached the surface of the sea rapidly, but this ascent was not so
sudden as to cause a too rapid relief from the pressure of the water,
which would have been dangerous. Very soon light reappeared and grew,
and as the sun was low on the horizon, the refraction edged all objects
with a [v]spectral ring. At ten yards deep, we walked amid a shoal of
little fishes, more numerous than the birds of the air; but no
[v]aquatic game worthy of a shot had as yet met our gaze. Suddenly I saw
the captain put his gun to his shoulder and follow a moving object into
the shrubs. He fired; I heard a slight hissing and the creature fell
stunned at some distance from us.

It was a magnificent sea-otter, five feet long and very valuable. Its
skin, chestnut-brown above and silvery underneath, would have made one
of those beautiful furs so sought after in the Russian and Chinese
markets. I admired the curious animal, with its rounded head ornamented
with short ears, its round eyes, and white whiskers like those of a cat,
and its webbed feet and nails and tufted tail. This precious beast,
hunted and tracked by fishermen, has now become very rare and has sought
refuge in the northern parts of the Pacific.

Captain Nemo's companion threw the sea-otter over his shoulder, and we
continued our journey. For an hour a plain of sand lay stretched before
us, which sometimes rose to within two yards of the surface of the
water. I then saw our image clearly reflected, drawn inversely, and
above us appeared an identical group reflecting our movements: in a
word, the image was like us in every point, except that the figures
walked with their heads downward and their feet in the air.

For two hours we followed these sandy plains, then fields of [v]algae
very disagreeable to cross. Candidly, I felt that I could do no more
when I saw a glimmer of light, which for a half-mile broke the darkness
of the waters. It was the lantern of the _Nautilus_. Before twenty
minutes were over we should be on board, and I should be able to breathe
with ease, for it seemed that my reservoir supplied air very deficient
in oxygen. But I did not reckon on an accidental meeting which delayed
our arrival for some time.

I had remained some steps behind, when presently I saw Captain Nemo come
hurriedly toward me. With his strong hand he bent me to the ground,
while his companion did the same to Conseil. At first I knew not what to
think of this sudden attack, but I was soon reassured by seeing the
captain lie down beside me and remain immovable.

I was stretched on the ground, just under shelter of a bush of algae,
when, raising my head, I saw some enormous mass, casting phosphorescent
gleams, pass blusteringly by. My blood froze in my veins as I recognized
two formidable sharks. They were man-eaters, terrible creatures with
enormous tails and a dull glassy stare--monstrous brutes which could
crush a whole man in their iron jaws! I noticed their silver undersides
and their huge mouths bristling with teeth, from a very unscientific
point of view and more as a possible victim than as a naturalist.

Happily the [v]voracious creatures do not see well. They passed without
noticing us, brushing us with their brownish fins, and we escaped by a
miracle from a danger certainly greater than that of meeting a tiger
full-face in a forest. Half an hour later, guided by the electric light,
we reached the _Nautilus_. The outside door had been left open, and
Captain Nemo closed it as soon as we entered the first cell. He then
pressed a knob. I heard the pumps working in the midst of the vessel. I
felt the water sinking from around me, and in a few minutes the cell
was entirely empty. The inside door then opened, and we entered the
vestry.

Our diving-dress was taken off, not without some trouble; and fairly
worn out from want of food and sleep, I returned to my room in great
wonder at this surprising excursion at the bottom of the sea.

JULES VERNE.


=HELPS TO STUDY=

What was the hunt to which the adventurers were invited? Describe
the preparations for it. What kind of gun did the hunters carry?
Describe the descent to the bottom of the sea and the walk. What
impressed you most? Would you care to take a nap at the bottom of
the sea? What were the main incidents in the return trip? Find out
all you can about divers and about life on the floor of the ocean.


SUPPLEMENTARY READING

The Mysterious Island--Jules Verne.
Thirty Strange Stories--H. G. Wells.
The Great Stone of Sardis--Frank R. Stockton.




Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage.

LORD BYRON.




UNDER SEAS


This story is a realistic description of a submarine cruise in the
recent war. The _Kate_ was a Russian underwater boat operating
against the German fleet in the Baltic Sea. Her experiences in this
terrible mode of fighting were the same as those of hundreds of
submarines belonging to the various warring powers. It may be
observed from the description how marvelous has been the advance of
science in the last generation. What Jules Verne imagined in his
book, _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_, the _Kate_
accomplished. This story of actual war is not less wonderful than
the vision of the romancer.

Men were placed at the water-pumps, the oxygen containers, air-purifiers
and [v]distilling machinery, and the [v]hatchways were thoroughly
examined; the gunners took their posts at the torpedo tubes. The order
had been given to move about as little as possible, to keep in the
berths when not on duty, and not to talk and laugh. Then the watchman
left the [v]conning tower, and the main hatchway was [v]hermetically
closed.

Captain Andrey gave the order to submerge and went over to the
navigating compartment. Water rushed into the [v]ballast tanks, the boat
grew heavy, and its rolling and pitching ceased: the _Kate_ sank and ran
ahead under water, steering by means of the [v]periscope. Andrey pushed
a button and a cone of pale blue rays poured from the tube. The
[v]screen of the periscope grew alive with tiny waves, passing clouds,
and a tail of smoke on the skyline. With his chin resting on his arm,
Andrey scanned the image of the sea which lay before him. Presently the
smoke vanished, and on the right hand appeared the hazy outline of land.

At nightfall, the boat, taking advantage of the darkness, rose to the
surface of the sea and sailed without lights. Andrey stood on the bridge
throughout the night. The water was placid, the stars were screened by a
light mist, and far away to the south the pale blue gleam of an enemy
searchlight moved through the clouds.

The boat was now approaching a mine field. At dawn, when the
greenish-orange light began slowly to pervade the fleecy clouds, the
_Kate_ sank to a great depth at a definitely fixed point in the sea.
Steering solely by compass and map, she commenced to pick her way under
the mines. Yakovlev was in charge of the steering apparatus, while
Prince Bylopolsky calculated the [v]side drift and reported to the chief
engineer in charge of the motors. Andrey, leaning over the map, gave
orders to the man at the wheel.

There was no sensation of movement, and it seemed as if the _Kate_ stood
still amidst the eery darkness. The men for the most part were stretched
on their backs, seeking to consume as little oxygen as possible. In
spite of this precaution, however, the air was thick, and the sailors
felt a tingling sensation in the ears.

Suddenly the boat's keel struck against something hard, and a grating
sound broke the stillness.

"Stop! Stop! " called out Andrey, dashing forth from the navigating
cabin.

The pinions cracked and the motors ceased to pulsate. Immediately the
air became hot, as in a Turkish bath. Andrey entered the water-tight
conning tower, which was flooded with diluted, greenish light from the
ports provided for the purpose of giving a view of the surrounding
waters. He peered through the glass pane. Vague, blurred forms and
shadows gradually became visible in the twilight of the deep. One of the
shadows wavered and glided along the window, and the round, tragic eyes
of a fish glanced at Andrey. The fish disappeared in the depths below
the boat. Evidently the _Kate_ had not run aground, nor were there any
submerged reefs in that quarter. Andrey gave an order to raise the boat
several feet. Then numerous shadows leaped aside and scattered, and the
captain plainly saw a jumbled heap of ropes and ladders. It was obvious
that the _Kate_ had blundered into the remains of a sunken ship.

The halt was unfortunate--indeed, might prove fatal. The uniform motion
of the boat had been disturbed, the [v]orientation lost; the inevitable
small error made at the point of submerging must have increased in the
course beneath the waves. The _Kate_ had lost her way, and something
must be done. Andrey drummed nervously on the window-pane as he
thought. It was impossible to stay under water any longer, and yet to
rise to the surface meant to be seen and attacked by enemy warships.
Only in this way, however, was it possible to determine the boat's
position.

Andrey, giving an order for the boat to rise slowly, returned to his
observation point. The water gradually grew clearer. Suddenly a dark
ball moved down to meet the craft. "A mine! " flashed across Andrey's
mind, and, overcoming the torpor which had begun to oppress his brain,
he ordered the submarine to be swerved from her course. The ball moved
away, but another appeared on the right. There was another change of
direction. And now everywhere in the midst of the greenish twilight
cast-iron shells lay in wait. The _Kate_ was in the toils of a mine net!

Sea water, when viewed from a great height, is so transparent that large
fishes can even be seen in it. Owing to this fact, the _Kate_ was
discovered by two enemy [v]hydroplanes as she rose among the mines
toward the surface of the bay. The aircraft were seen, however, and the
boat dived again to a great depth.

The _Kate_ now blindly groped her way forward. The motors worked at
their top speed, and the body of the boat trembled. Hundreds of demons
called horsepowers fiercely turned the various wheels, pinions, and
shafts. The air was hot and stuffy; the men at the engine, stripped to
the waist, worked feverishly. Speed was necessary, for only oxygen
enough to sustain the crew for one hour remained in the lead cylinders.

Yakovlev still sat at the compass, his elbows on his knees and his hands
pressing his head. The men lounged in the cabins and corridors, their
faces livid with suffocation. Prince Bylopolsky remained leaning over
his [v]logarithmic tables, which had now become useless. From time to
time he wiped his face, as if removing a net of invisible cobwebs.
Finally he rose to his feet, took a few steps, and fainted dead away.

Giving the order to proceed at full speed, Andrey hoped to pass the mine
zone, even though some of his men succumbed for lack of air. Pale and
excited, his hair in disorder, and his coat unbuttoned, he was
everywhere at once, and his voice sustained the failing strength of the
half-suffocated crew. Seeing the prince stretched unconscious on a
berth, Andrey poured a few drops of brandy in his mouth and kissed his
wet, childlike forehead. In making too rapid a movement, lurid flames
danced before his eyes, and he bent back, striking his head against a
sharp angle of an engine. He felt no pain from the blow.

"Bad! " thought Andrey, and crawled over to the emergency oxygen
container. He opened the faucet and inhaled the fragrant stream of gas.
His head began to swim and a sweet fire ran through his veins. With an
effort he rose to his feet. The outlines of the objects around him were
strangely distinct, and the faces of the men imploringly turned to
him--some of them bearded and high-cheekboned, others tender and
childlike--seemed to him touchingly human. . . .

In the corridor Andrey came upon a man standing against the wall and
gulping the air like a fish. Seeing the commander, he made an effort to
cheer up and mumbled, "Beg pardon, sir; I'm a bit unwell. " The captain
leaned over and looked into his eyes, which a film of death was already
beginning to veil. Andrey, turning to the telephone tube, gave a command
to rise. The _Kate_ shook all over and dived upward. The ascent lasted
four minutes and a half, at the end of which time the boat stood still
and light fell on the screen of the periscope. The sailors crawled up to
the main hatchway and unscrewed it. Cold salt air rushed into the boat,
swelling the chests of the sufferers and turning their heads; the
sensation of free breathing was delicious after the suffocation they had
so long endured.

Andrey, leaping on the bridge, found the evening sun suspended above
vast masses of warm clouds and the sea quiet and peaceful. He began to
take observations with the [v]sextant, which shook in his trembling
hand. Presently a loud buzzing was heard in the sky, followed by the
measured crackling of a machine gun; from the hull of the boat came a
sharp rat-a-tat, as if some one was throwing dry peas on it. A
hydroplane was circling above the _Kate_.

Andrey bit his lip and kept on working; a squad of his men loaded their
rifles. The hydroplane swooped down almost to the surface of the sea,
then soared with a shrill "F-r-r-r" and flew right over the boat. A
clean-shaven pilot sat motionless, his hands on the wheel; below him an
observer gazed downward, waiting. Suddenly the latter lifted a bomb and
threw it into a tube. The missile flashed in the air and plunged into
the sea at the very side of the boat.
One of the crew fired his rifle,
and the observer threw up his leather-covered arms with outspread
fingers. Slowly circling under the fire of the submarine crew, the
aircraft rose toward the clouds and sailed off.

Over the sky-ridge another aeroplane appeared, looking like a long thin
line. Meantime the _Kate_ picked her way with graceful ease across the
orange-colored waters as if cutting through molten glass. Andrey,
buttoning his coat, said with a grimace, "Well, Yakovlev, the mines are
behind us, but what are we going to do now? "

"This region is full of reefs and sandbanks," replied Yakovlev.

"That's just the trouble. I wouldn't risk sailing under the water. Wait
a moment. " He raised his hand.

A violent whizzing sound came from the west; Andrey ordered greater
speed. A [v]grenade hissed on the right, and a jet of water spurted up
from the quiet surface. The _Kate_ tacked sharply toward the purpling
horizon in the west, and behind, in her shadowy wake, another bomb burst
and blossomed out into a small cloud. The boat then turned east again,
but now in front of her, on both sides, everywhere, shells burst and
sputtered fire. The scouting hydroplane dashed over the submarine like a
bat; two pale faces looked down and disappeared. Then right above the
stern of the _Kate_ a grenade exploded and one of the sailors dropped
his rifle, clutched his face, toppled over the railing, and disappeared
beneath the water.

"All hands below! " cried Andrey; and, watching where the shells fell
thickest, he began to give his orders. The _Kate_ circled like a
run-down hare, while all along the darkening skyline the smoking stacks
of mine-layers and destroyers were visible as the enemy's ruthless ring
rapidly tightened about the submarine.

Having had her wireless mast shot off by a shell, the _Kate_ now dashed
toward the rocky shore, running awash. Six sparks shot up in the dark
and six steel-clad demons hissed above the boat. The long shadow of a
ship glided along the shore. The _Kate_ shook, and a sharp-nosed torpedo
detached itself from her hull and glided away under the water to meet
the [v]silhouette of the vessel. A moment passed, and a fluffy,
mountainous mass of fire and water rose from the spot where the stacks
of a mine-layer had projected shortly before. The mountain sank and the
silhouette disappeared. The _Kate_ entered a baylet among the rocks,
submerged, and lay on the sandy sea-bed.

Two weeks the submarine remained in the inlet, completely cut off from
the rest of the world. By day she hid in the deep, and only under the
cover of night did she rise to the surface to get a supply of air. The
greatest precautions were necessary, for there was little likelihood
that the enemy believed the submarine to be destroyed.

At the end of that time some action was inevitable, as the boat's
supplies had given out; for three days the crew had fed on fish which
one of the men had caught at great risk. Audrey decided to leave the bay
and make a supreme effort to run the enemy's cordon.

About daybreak, as the _Kate_ was nearing the surface of the sea, the
crew became aware of a tremendous muffled cannonade; and when the boat
emerged into a white fog, the whole coast shook and echoed with the roar
and crash of a sea battle. Broadsides and terrific explosions alternated
with the crackling of guns. It was as though a multitude of sea-devils
coughed and blew and roared at each other.

"Quick, sir," shouted Yakovlev, holding on to the railing; "we can break
through now! " His teeth rattled.

The preparations for the dash had been completed. A strong gale swept
away the fog and drove its torn masses over the sea, laying bare the
rocky shore. The _Kate_ dashed out of the bay into the open. The firing
was now heard behind and on the right; the road to the port was open at
last. The submarine rushed along, ripping in twain the frothing waves.

In this moment of exaltation, to return safely to base, simply to do
one's duty, seemed too little to these fearless men. The feeling that
possessed them was not enthusiasm but a greediness, a yearning for
destruction.

"We cannot go away like this," Yakovlev shouted in Audrey's ear; "turn
back or I will shoot myself! " The man was completely beside himself; his
pale face twisted convulsively.

Just then the sun arose, turning the rolling sea into a dull orange.
Near at hand invisible ships thundered against each other. Suddenly a
gray mountain-like shape emerged from the fog, enveloped in flame and
smoke. Above its turrets, stacks, and masts fluttered a flag bearing a
black eagle.

Mad with the thought that the opportunity had come at last, Andrey
rushed down the hatchway, knocking over Yakovlev on the way, and loaded
the torpedo tube. The _Kate_ submerged a little, and sailing awash,
headed straight for the enemy vessel.

The shadow of the hostile ship glided along the periscope screen, every
now and then wrapping itself into a cloud pierced with fiery needles of
shots. The _Kate_ fired a torpedo but missed her aim. Leaning over the
screen and biting his lips to bleeding, Andrey examined the tiny image
of the vessel, one of the mightiest of battleships. The distance between
the _Kate_ and the enemy vessel continued to decrease; the image of the
ship already occupied half of the periscope screen.

"Another torpedo! " shouted Andrey.

At that very instant a blow was struck the boat and the periscope screen
grew dark. Andrey ran out from the navigating compartment and shouted:

"The periscope is shot away! Full speed forward! "

The engineer seized the handle of a lever and asked, "Which way? "

"Forward! forward! "

Andrey went into the conning tower; straight in front of him foamy
eddies whirled furiously. The dark hull of a ship appeared, obscuring
the light.

"Stop! " shouted Andrey. "Fire another one! Full speed backward! " He
closed his eyes.

For a moment it seemed to him that the end had come. He was hurled by
the explosion of the torpedo into the corridor and dashed against the
wall. The outcries of the men were drowned by the muffled thud of the
inrushing water. The light went out; the _Kate_ began to rotate and
sink.

The boat did not stay long in the deep; freed from the weight of two
torpedoes, she slowly began to rise, stopped before reaching the
surface, and commenced to sink again as the water continued to leak into
her hull.

A sailor found Andrey in a narrow passage unconscious, though breathing
regularly. The man dressed the captain's wounds, but could not bring him
to his senses. Another sailor tried to revive Yakovlev, but soon saw
that that officer was dead. All the available hands toiled at the pumps,
while the engineer and his two assistants worked frantically at the
engine.

The _Kate_ was near the surface, but as the periscope and the indicator
had been destroyed, it was impossible to tell precisely where she was.
On the other hand, to unscrew the hatch and look out would subject the
boat to the risk of being flooded. Finally, the engineer reported that
it was necessary to replace the cylinder, but that this was difficult to
do because the supply of candles was giving out. Kuritzyn, a sailor who
had assumed command, ordered the men at the pumps to pump until they
dropped dead, if necessary, but to raise the boat at least one yard. The
men obeyed in grim silence. Presently the last candle went out. "It's
all over, boys," said some one, and the pumps stopped. The only sound
that now broke the silence was the monotonous splash of water leaking
down on the periscope screen.

"Follow me," said Kuritzyn hoarsely to two of the men. "Let us unscrew
the hatches. What's the use of fooling any longer? "

Feeling their way in the darkness, several men followed the leader into
the corridor and up the spiral staircase in the main hatchway. When they
reached the top, they grasped the bolts of the lid.

"Here's our finish," said one of the men.

Just then the sound of footsteps on the outside of the boat reached
their ears. Some one was walking on the _Kate's_ hull!

"Down to the ballast tanks! " Kuritzyn ordered. "When I fire, blow them
out. We are ordered not to surrender the boat. "

With his revolver between his teeth, he pressed the bolt. The lid
yielded; light and air rushed into the opening.

"Hey, who is there? " Kuritzyn shouted.

"Russians, Russians," replied a voice.

"Thank God! " said Kuritzyn in a tone of intense gratitude.

COUNT ALEXIS TOLSTOI.


=HELPS TO STUDY=

Tell of the preparations made for the submerging of the _Kate_.
Describe the scene within the vessel. What accident halted the
boat? Describe the events that followed. Where did the _Kate_ find
anchorage? Describe her exit from the bay. What flag was it that
bore a black eagle? What was the fate of the ship bearing that
flag?


SUPPLEMENTARY READING

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea--Jules Verne.
The Pilot--J. Fenimore Cooper.




A VOYAGE TO THE MOON


The moon, being the nearest to the earth of all the heavenly
bodies, has always occupied the imagination of men. Many fanciful
accounts have been written of voyages to the moon, of which the
following story by Edgar Allan Poe is among the best. So wonderful
has been the advance of science that it is conceivable that at some
distant time in the future the inhabitants of this world may
possibly be able to visit the beautiful body which lights the night
for us.


I

After a long and arduous devotion to the study of physics and astronomy,
I, Hans Pfaal of Rotterdam, at length determined to construct a balloon
of my own along original lines and to try a flight in it. Accordingly I
had made an enormous bag out of cambric muslin, varnished with
caoutchouc for protection against the weather. I procured all the
instruments needed for a prolonged ascent and finally prepared for the
inflation of the balloon. Herein lay my secret, my invention, the thing
in which my balloon differed from all the balloons that had gone before.
Out of a peculiar [v]metallic substance and a very common acid I was
able to manufacture a gas of a density about 37. 4 less than that of
hydrogen, and thus by far the lightest substance ever known. It would
serve to carry the balloon to heights greater than had been attained
before, for hydrogen is the gas usually used.

The hour for my experiment in ballooning finally arrived. I had chosen
the night as the best time for the ascension, because I should thereby
avoid annoyances caused by the curiosity of the ignorant and the idle.

It was the first of April. The night was dark; there was not a star to
be seen; and a drizzling rain, falling at intervals, made me very
uncomfortable. But my chief anxiety was concerning the balloon, which,
in spite of the varnish with which it was defended, began to grow rather
heavy with the moisture. I therefore set my assistants to working, and
in about four hours and a half I found the balloon sufficiently
inflated. I attached the car and put all my implements in it--a
telescope, a barometer, a thermometer, an [v]electrometer, a compass, a
magnetic needle, a seconds watch, a bell, and other things. I had
further procured a globe of glass, exhausted of air and carefully closed
with a stopper, not forgetting a special apparatus for condensing air, a
copious supply of water, and a large quantity of provisions, such as
[v]pemmican, in which much [v]nutriment is contained in comparatively
little bulk. I also secured a cat in the car.

It was now nearly daybreak, and I thought it high time to take my
departure. I immediately cut the single cord which held me to the earth,
and was pleased to find that I shot upward with [v]inconceivable
rapidity, carrying with all ease one hundred and seventy-five pounds of
leaden ballast and able to have carried as much more.

Scarcely, however, had I attained the height of fifty yards, when
roaring and rumbling up after me in the most [v]tumultuous and terrible
manner, came so dense a hurricane of fire and gravel and burning wood
and blazing metal that my very heart sunk within me and I fell down in
the car, trembling with terror. Some of my chemical materials had
exploded immediately beneath me almost at the moment of my leaving
earth. The balloon at first collapsed, then furiously expanded, then
whirled round and round with sickening [v]velocity, and finally, reeling
and staggering like a drunken man, hurled me over the rim of the car;
and in the moment of my fall I lost consciousness.

I had no knowledge of what had saved me. When I partially recovered the
sense of existence, I found the day breaking, the balloon at a
[v]prodigious height over a wilderness of ocean, and not a trace of land
to be discovered far and wide within the limits of the vast horizon. My
sensations, however, upon thus recovering, were by no means so
[v]replete with agony as might have been anticipated. Indeed, there was
much of madness in the calm survey which I began to take of my
situation. I drew up to my eyes each of my hands, one after the other,
and wondered what occurrence could have given rise to the swelling of
the veins and the horrible blackness of the finger nails. I afterward
carefully examined my head, shaking it repeatedly and feeling it with
minute attention, until I succeeded in satisfying myself that it was
not, as I had more than half suspected, larger than the balloon. It now
occurred to me that I suffered great uneasiness in the joint of my left
ankle, and a dim consciousness of my situation began to glimmer through
my mind. I began to understand that my foot had caught in a rope and
that I was hanging downward outside the car. But strange to say! I was
neither astonished nor horror-stricken. If I felt any emotion at all, it
was a sort of chuckling satisfaction at the cleverness I was about to
display in getting myself out of this [v]dilemma.

With great caution and deliberation, I put my hands behind my back and
unfastened the large iron buckle which belonged to the waistband of my
pantaloons. This buckle had three teeth, which, being somewhat rusty,
turned with great difficulty on their axis. I brought them, however,
after some trouble, at right angles to the body of the buckle and was
glad to find them remain firm in that position. Holding with my teeth
the instrument thus obtained, I proceeded to untie the knot of my
cravat; it was at length accomplished. To one end of the cravat I then
made fast the buckle, and the other end I tied, for greater security,
tightly around my wrist. Drawing now my body upward, with a prodigious
exertion of muscular force, I succeeded, at the very first trial, in
throwing the buckle over the car, and entangling it, as I had
anticipated, in the circular rim of the wicker-work.

My body was now inclined toward the side of the car at an angle of about
forty-five degrees; but it must not be understood that I was therefore
only forty-five degrees below the [v]perpendicular. So far from it, I
still lay nearly level with the plane of the horizon, for the change of
position which I had acquired had forced the bottom of the car
considerably outward from my position, which was accordingly one of the
most extreme peril. It should be remembered, however, that when I fell
from the car, if I had fallen with my face turned toward the balloon,
instead of turned outwardly from it as it actually was--or if, in the
second place, the cord by which I was suspended had chanced to hang over
the upper edge instead of through a crevice near the bottom of the
car--in either of these cases, I should have been unable to accomplish
even as much as I had now accomplished. I had therefore every reason to
be grateful, although, in point of fact, I was still too stupid to be
anything at all, and hung for perhaps a quarter of an hour in that
extraordinary manner, without making the slightest farther exertion, and
in a singularly tranquil state of idiotic enjoyment.

This feeling, however, did not fail to die rapidly away, and thereunto
succeeded horror and dismay, and a sense of utter helplessness and ruin.
In fact, the blood so long accumulating in the vessels of my head and
throat, and which had hitherto buoyed up my spirits with delirium, had
now begun to retire within its proper channels, and the distinctness
which was thus added to my perception of the danger merely served to
deprive me of the self-possession and courage to encounter it. But this
weakness was, luckily for me, of no very great duration. In good time
came to my rescue the spirit of despair, and with frantic cries and
struggles, I jerked my body upward, till, at length, clutching with a
vice-like grip the long-desired rim, I writhed my person over it and
fell headlong and shuddering within the car.

When I had recovered from the weakness caused by being so long in that
position and the horror from which I had suffered, I found that all my
implements were in place and that neither ballast nor provisions had
been lost.

It is now high time that I should explain the object of my voyage. I had
been harassed for long by poverty and creditors. In this state of mind,
wishing to live and yet wearied with life, my deep studies in astronomy
opened a resource to my imagination. I determined to depart, yet
live--to leave the world, yet continue to exist--in short, to be plain,
I resolved, let come what would, to force a passage, if possible, to the
moon.

This was not so mad as it seems. The moon's actual distance from the
earth was the first thing to be attended to. The mean or average
interval between the centers of the two planets is only about 237,000
miles. But at certain times the moon and earth are much nearer than at
others, and if I could contrive to meet the moon at the moment when it
was nearest earth, the above-mentioned distance would be materially
lessened. But even taking the average distance and deducting the
[v]radius of the earth and the moon, the actual interval to be traversed
under average circumstances would be 231,920 miles. Now this, I
reflected, was no very extraordinary distance. Traveling on the land has
been repeatedly accomplished at the rate of sixty miles an hour; and
indeed a much greater speed may be anticipated. But even at this
velocity it would take me no more than 161 days to reach the surface of
the moon. There were, however, many particulars inducing me to believe
that my average rate of traveling might possibly very much exceed that
of sixty miles an hour.

The next point to be regarded was one of far greater importance. We know
that at 18,000 feet above the surface of the earth we have passed
one-half the material, or, at all events, one-half the [v]ponderable
body of air upon the globe. It is also calculated that at a height of
eighty miles the [v]rarefaction of air is so great that animal life can
be sustained in no manner. But I did not fail to perceive that these
calculations are founded on our experimental knowledge of the air in
the immediate vicinity of the earth, and that it is taken for granted
that animal life is incapable of [v]modification. I thought that no
matter how high we may ascend we cannot arrive at a limit beyond which
no atmosphere is to be found. It must exist, I argued, although it may
exist in a state of [v]infinite rarefaction.

Having adopted this view of the subject, I had little farther
hesitation. Granting that on my passage I should meet with atmosphere
essentially the same as at the surface of the earth, I thought that, by
means of my very ingenious apparatus for that purpose, I should readily
be able to condense it in sufficient quantity for breathing. This would
remove the chief obstacle in a journey to the moon.

I now turned to view the prospect beneath me. At twenty minutes past six
o'clock, the barometer showed an elevation of 26,000 feet, or five miles
to a fraction. The outlook seemed unbounded. I beheld as much as a
sixteen-hundredth part of the whole surface of the globe. The sea
appeared as unruffled as a mirror, although, by means of the telescope,
I could perceive it to be in a state of violent agitation. I now began
to experience, at intervals, severe pain in the head, especially about
the ears, due to the rarefaction of the air. The cat seemed to suffer no
inconvenience whatever.

I was rising rapidly, and by seven o'clock the barometer indicated an
altitude of no less than nine miles and a half. I began to find great
difficulty in drawing my breath. My head, too, was excessively painful;
and, having felt for some time a moisture about my cheeks, I at length
discovered it to be blood, which was oozing quite fast from the drums of
my ears. These symptoms were more than I had expected and occasioned me
some alarm.