Gutenberg · e01.org

← catalogue

To Mars via the Moon: An Astronomical Story

by Mark Wicks · English · Gutenberg #27633 · 567,733 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of To Mars via the Moon: An Astronomical Story
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: To Mars via the Moon: An Astronomical Story

Author: Mark Wicks


        
Release date: December 27, 2008 [eBook #27633]
                Most recently updated: January 4, 2021

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/27633

Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, Greg Bergquist and the Online
        Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO MARS VIA THE MOON: AN ASTRONOMICAL STORY ***




Produced by Chris Curnow, Greg Bergquist and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net






Transcriber's Note

The punctuation and spelling from the original text have been faithfully
preserved. Only obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Plate XVI is missing from the scanned image files. The reference within
the Maps and Plates list has been preserved.




TO MARS _via_ THE MOON

[Illustration: _Drawn by M. Wicks_

VIEW FROM THE AIR-SHIP, OVER THE CANALS AND THE CITY OF SIRAPION

"What a splendid view we then had over the country all around us!...
Across the country, in line after line, were the canals which we had
been so anxious to see, extending as far as the eye could reach!"]




  To Mars _via_ The Moon

  _AN ASTRONOMICAL STORY_

  BY
  MARK WICKS

  "_It is astronomy which will eventually be the chief educator and
  emancipator of the human race._"--SIR EDWIN ARNOLD.

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

  LONDON
  SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
  38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET
  1911




  Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
  At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh




  TO

  PROFESSOR PERCIVAL LOWELL

  A.B., LL.D.

  _Director of the Observatory at Flagstaff, Arizona_

  TO WHOSE CAREFUL AND PAINSTAKING RESEARCHES,
  EXTENDING OVER MANY YEARS, THE WORLD OWES
  SO MUCH OF ITS KNOWLEDGE OF

  THE PLANET MARS,

  THIS LITTLE BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY
  ONE WHO HAS DERIVED INFINITE PLEASURE FROM
  THE PERUSAL OF HIS WORKS ON
  THE SUBJECT




PREFACE


In the course of my experience as an occasional lecturer during the past
twelve years, I have been much impressed by the keen interest evinced,
even by the most unlettered persons, when astronomical subjects are
dealt with in plain untechnical language which they can really grasp and
understand.

The pertinent questions which have been addressed to me privately by
members of my audiences have clearly indicated that there is ample scope
for writers in satisfying a widespread desire for fuller and clearer
information upon such subjects. I have observed that particular interest
is taken in the planet Mars and also in the moon, but ordinary persons
usually find astronomical text-books too technical and too difficult to
master; whilst, as regards Mars, the information they contain is
generally meagre and sometimes not up-to-date.

Scientific readers are already provided for: and it occurred to me that
it would be much more useful and appeal to a more numerous class if,
instead of writing a book on the usual lines, I wrote a narrative of
events which might be supposed to occur in the course of an actual
voyage to Mars; and describing what might be seen on the planet during a
short visit.

This is the genesis of the story; and, in carrying out my programme, I
have endeavoured to convey by means of natural incidents and
conversations between the characters portrayed, the most recent and
reliable scientific information respecting the moon and Mars; together
with other astronomical information: stating it in an interesting form,
and in concise, clear, and understandable language.

Every endeavour has been made to ensure that this scientific information
shall be thoroughly accurate, so that in this respect the book may be
referred to with as much confidence as any ordinary textbook.

Apart from my own studies and work, all these facts have been carefully
verified by reference, as regards the moon, to the works of such
well-known authorities as Neison, Elger, Proctor, Sir Robert Ball, &c.,
whilst, with respect to Mars, the works of Professor Lowell, Flammarion,
Professor Langley, and other writers, as well as practical papers by
other actual observers of the planet, have been studied.

The personal opinions expressed are entirely my own, and the technical
writers above mentioned are in no way responsible for them. I do not,
however, expect my readers to accept all my views, as they relate to
matters in which there is ample room for differences of opinion.

The reader will, of course, understand that whilst the astronomical
information is, in all cases, scientific fact according to our present
knowledge, the story itself--as well as the attempt to describe the
physical and social conditions on Mars--is purely imaginative. It is
not, however, merely random imagining. In a narrative such as this some
matters--as, for instance, the "air-ship," and the possibility of a
voyage through space--must be taken for granted; but the other ideas
are mainly logical deductions from known facts and scientific data, or
legitimate inferences.

Many years' careful study of the various theories which have been
evolved has convinced me that the weight of evidence is in favour of
Professor Lowell's conceptions, as being not only the most reasonable
but the most scientific; and that they fit the observed facts with a
completeness attaching to no other theory. These conceptions I have
endeavoured to present fully and clearly; together with my own views as
an entirely independent writer.

In dealing with the conditions on a distant and inaccessible world the
farthest flight of imagination might fall short of the reality, but I
have preferred to treat these matters somewhat restrainedly. Whilst no
one can say positively that the intelligent inhabitants of Mars do not
possess bodies resembling our own, it is very probable that they differ
from us entirely; and may possess forms which would appear to us strange
and weird. I have, however, thought it desirable to endow the Martians
with bodies resembling ours, but glorified in form and features. The
powers ascribed to the Martians are really only extensions of powers
which some amongst us claim to possess, and they fall short of what more
than one modern scientific writer has predicated as being within the
possibilities of science at a not very distant future.

During the past few years I have been greatly indebted to Professor
Lowell for his kindness and ready courtesy in furnishing me with
information on obscure matters connected with Mars; and my thanks are
also due to the Rev. Theodore E.R. Phillips, of Ashstead, who was good
enough to read the manuscript of this book, and whose great
observational experience enabled him to make valuable suggestions in
regard to the scientific matters dealt with therein.

Truly "a labour of love," this little book--which Professor Lowell has
most kindly permitted me to dedicate to him--is now submitted to the
public, in the sincere hope that its perusal may serve not only to while
away a leisure hour, but tend to nurture a love of the sublime science
of astronomy, and at the same time provide some food for thought.

A few maps, plates, and charts have been added to give completeness to
the work, and it is hoped that they will aid the reader in understanding
the several matters dealt with.

                                            M.W.
  1910.




CONTENTS


                                                          PAGE

    LIST OF PLATES AND MAPS                               xvii

    NOTES ON THE MAPS AND CHARTS                           xix

    THE SUN, MOON, AND PLANETS                           xxiii

  (_Narrative by Wilfrid Poynders, Esq._)

  CHAP.
  I. WE START ON A VERY LONG VOYAGE                         25

  II. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES--WHY WE DECIDED ON
        THE VOYAGE                                          35

  III. WE APPROACH THE MOON--A MAGNIFICENT SPECTACLE        44

  IV. CLOSE TO THE MOON--I GIVE SOME INFORMATION
        ABOUT IT                                            52

  V. WE VIEW THE LUNAR SCENERY IN THE NORTHERN
       HEMISPHERE                                           63

  VI. THE SCENERY OF THE MOON'S SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE         78

  VII. WE RESUME OUR VOYAGE--THE SUN AND THE
         SKY AS SEEN FROM SPACE                             92

  VIII. JOHN INSISTS ON GOING BACK AGAIN--A STRANGE,
          BUT AMUSING INCIDENT OCCURS                      101

  IX. A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DESTRUCTION--I GIVE
        SOME PARTICULARS ABOUT MARS AND MARTIAN
        DISCOVERY                                          113

  X. THE DISCOVERY OF LINES UPON MARS--THE
       GREAT MARTIAN CONTROVERSY                           128

  XI. THE GREAT MARTIAN CONTROVERSY (_continued_)          139

  XII. WE ARE MYSTERIOUSLY PREVENTED FROM APPROACHING
         MARS                                              155

  XIII. WE ARRIVE ON MARS AND MEET WITH A STARTLING
          SURPRISE                                         162

  XIV. I MAKE A MOST AMAZING DISCOVERY                     166

  XV. WHAT IS IN A NAME!--THE STORY OF MERNA               169

  XVI. WE LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT THE POWERS OF
         THE MARTIANS                                      184

  XVII. WE VISIT THE CANALS AND DISCOVER THEIR
          SECRET--MARTIAN VIEWS OF LIFE AND DEATH          194

  XVIII. WE ATTEND A MARTIAN BANQUET                       207

  XIX. THE CHIEF OF THE MARTIAN COUNCIL DISCUSSES
         THE SOCIAL CONDITIONS OF OUR
         WORLD AND MARS                                    212

  XX. THE SECRET OF THE "CARETS"--THE SUN AS
        SEEN FROM MARS                                     224

  XXI. OUR FIRST VIEW OF THE EARTH FROM MARS--A
         MARTIAN COURTSHIP                                 236

  XXII. CELESTIAL PHENOMENA SEEN FROM MARS--M'ALLISTER
          RECEIVES A PRACTICAL LESSON
          IN GRAVITATION                                   242

  XXIII. I HAVE A SERIOUS TALK WITH JOHN                   253

  XXIV. THE MARTIAN SEASONS                                256

  XXV. MANY THINGS SEEN UPON MARS--I RECEIVE
         SOME NEWS                                         264

  XXVI. WE WITNESS SOME WONDERFUL AERIAL EVOLUTIONS
          AND LISTEN TO MARVELLOUS MUSIC                   282

  XXVII. A FAREWELL BANQUET AND A PAINFUL PARTING          293

  XXVIII. LAST WORDS TO MY READERS                         298

  (_Addendum by John Yiewsley Claxton_)

  XXIX. WHAT HAPPENED UPON OUR RETURN HOME--RESULTS
          OF THE MOST RECENT OBSERVATIONS OF MARS--PROFESSOR
          LOWELL'S IMPORTANT DISCOVERY                     302




LIST OF PLATES AND MAPS


  PLATE                                                    PAGE

  I. "WHAT A SPLENDID VIEW WE THEN HAD!"         _frontispiece_

  II. IDEAL VIEW OF LUNAR SCENERY                            54

  III. CHART OF THE MOON, SHOWING THE PRINCIPAL         }
         FORMATIONS SEEN ON ITS SURFACE                 }    80
                                                        }
  IV. INDEX MAP TO CHART OF THE MOON                    }

  V. DIAGRAM SHOWING THE RELATIVE POSITIONS
       AND MOVEMENTS OF THE PLANETS DURING
       THE VOYAGE OF THE _AREONAL_                          100

  VI. DIAGRAM SHOWING THE RELATIVE POSITIONS
        OF THE EARTH AND MARS AT THE TIME OF
        VARIOUS OPPOSITIONS OF MARS                         110

  VII. CHART SHOWING THE RELATIVE POSITIONS OF
         THE EARTH AND MARS DURING THE YEARS
         1909-1910                                          118

  VIII. MARS. MAP 1                                         128

  IX. MARS. MAP 2                                           138

  X. MARS. MAP 3                                            154

  XI. MARS. MAP 4                                           206

  XII. MARS. MAP 5                                          224

  XIII. MARS. MAP 6                                         256

  XIV. MARS. MAP 7, SHOWING THE PLANET'S SOUTHERN
         SNOW-CAP AT ITS MAXIMUM                            266

  XV. MARS AS SEEN ON AUGUST 16, 1909                   }
                                                        }   314
  XVI. MARS AS SEEN ON OCTOBER 29, 1909                 }




NOTES ON THE MAPS AND CHARTS


The maps included in this work have been photographed from a globe of
Mars specially made for the purpose from various charts. In all the maps
the south is at the top and the north at the bottom; and the series
shows the general surface configuration all round the planet, together
with the principal canal lines which have been observed; but many other
canal lines exist, especially on the dark areas near the south pole.
These lines are usually straight and uniform in width throughout their
whole length: indeed it is difficult to mark them upon a globe so that
they shall appear as regular and uniform as they are actually seen on
the planet.

The names on the maps are those now generally accepted and used by
astronomers.

The "Greenwich" of Mars, _i.e._ the point on the Meridian from which
astronomers reckon the Martian longitudes, is indicated by the apex of
the small triangular light area just above the equator in Map I. It is
marked on the map as "Fastigium Aryn," and is chosen as longitude "0,"
because from its general outline it cannot be mistaken by observers.

"Sirapion," the supposed landing-place of the travellers mentioned in
the story, is shown on Map III., just above the central and lowest point
of the dark area at the top of the map. This name will not be found upon
any other map of Mars.

The chart showing the relative positions of the Earth and Mars during
the years 1909-10 is reduced and modified from one prepared accurately
to scale by the author for his own use in connection with the book. From
it the reader will gain a clear idea of the shape of the two orbits and
how they are placed with regard to each other.

It also shows the course supposed to be taken by the air-ship on its
outward and homeward journeys, and the point reached when one of the
travellers desired to turn back; together with the alternative routes
which were then discussed.

This chart, and the other one showing the positions of the two planets
at different oppositions of Mars, will enable the reader to understand
how it is that Mars approaches so much nearer to the earth at some
oppositions than it does at others. The positions of the oppositions
from 1916 to 1922 are only approximations, as no exact data are yet
available. The earth is closest to the orbit of Mars about the 27th of
August each year, and if Mars comes into opposition about that date it
is then only about thirty-five million miles away. If, however, the
opposition occurs near the 22nd February, the earth is then at its
greatest possible distance from the orbit of Mars, and that planet will
then be over sixty million miles away: appearing very much smaller than
when at its most favourable point of approach.

On the 18th of September, 1909, Mars was only slightly over thirty-six
million miles from the earth, and it will be fifteen years before such a
favourable situation again occurs.

The nearest point of approach does not necessarily occur on the actual
date of the opposition. In 1907 Mars was in perigee, as it is termed,
seven days after the opposition; while in 1909, perigee was before
opposition.

The diagram showing the positions and movements of the planets during
the period covered by the outward voyage of the _Areonal_ is
sufficiently explained by the notes printed thereon. It may, however, be
pointed out that though the orbits of the planets are all elliptical,
especially those of Mercury and Mars, they are so nearly true circles
that, when reduced to the scale of these diagrams, they practically
become circles. The exaggerated ellipses so often found in astronomical
books are very misleading. The orbits of Mercury and Mars have an
appearance of ellipticity because the sun does not occupy the central
point in the diagram.

The view of the moon is photographed from a large coloured drawing by
the author, which occupied many months in preparation and execution. It
shows all the principal formations seen through the telescope as the
moon passes through its various phases, but it must be understood that
the formations can never all be seen at one view as shown in this
picture. As the sun rises on any particular formation the details are
gradually revealed by the long shadows cast by the more elevated
portions when the sun is low down in the lunar sky. As the sun rises
higher and higher the shadows grow shorter and shorter, and when the sun
is vertically over the formation the shadows entirely disappear; all
details are thus rendered invisible.

When the moon is full the sun is practically vertical over the whole
lunar surface, so the only details then seen are those which are vaguely
brought out by differences in tint.

The bright ray-streaks are only suggested in the picture, because, if
shown complete, they would have the same effect as upon the moon, viz.
they would entirely obliterate all the formations over which they
passed.

The Key Map indicates the principal lunar formations, and includes the
names of those mentioned in the book.

The last two plates in the book are from drawings made at the telescope
(a 12-inch Calver reflector) by the Rev. T. E. R. Phillips. The
opposition of 1909 was not favourable for the observation of Martian
details from England; for although the planet was near to us, it was too
low down in the sky; and many of the nights were either cloudy or
misty.




THE SUN, MOON, AND PLANETS


       Diameter.       Period of Rotation.        Mean Distance
                                                  from the Earth.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
SUN    865,000 miles   25 to 26 days              92,800,000 miles

MOON     2,160 miles   27-1/3 days                238,000 miles
                       (It revolves round the
                       earth in the same time.)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
PLANETS.  Diameter in  Number of   Period of   Period of   Mean Distance
           Miles.[1]  Satellites   Rotation.    Revolution from the Sun in
                       Known.[2]               Round the Sun. Millions
                                                              of Miles.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                  Hrs. Mins.      Days.
Mercury    2,992        None         [3]?           88          36
Venus      7,660        None           ?           225          67
Earth      7,918        One          23  56        365-1/4      92-3/4
Mars       4,220        Two          24  37        687         141-1/2
Asteroids   Very tiny planets, hundreds in number; and more are
                       frequently being discovered.
Jupiter   86,000        Eight        9   55      4,332-1/2     482
Saturn    74,000        Ten          10  14     10,759         886
Uranus    31,700        Four       Not known    30,687       1,780
Neptune   34,500        One           "  "      60,127       2,780
---------------------------------------------------------------------------




TO MARS _via_ THE MOON

(_Narrative written by Wilfrid Poynders, Esquire, late of Norbury, in
the County Borough of Croydon, Surrey_)




CHAPTER I

WE START ON A VERY LONG VOYAGE


"Well, I suppose it is about time to get ready for starting?"

The speaker was a smart, well-set-up man about forty-three years of age,
whose keen and alert expression, clear eyes and well-cut features were a
true index to the intellectuality and integrity of his character; whilst
his closely compressed lips and the deep vertical line down the centre
of his forehead betokened a dogged perseverance in carrying into effect
anything he might undertake.

John Yiewsley Claxton, for that was his name, was my very intimate
friend of at least twenty-five years' standing; and during the greater
portion of that time he had been my constant companion. We had passed
through many trials and troubles together, but a better friend and
companion no man could have desired.

We were just finishing a last quiet smoke and chat in my snuggery at
Norbury, near Croydon, preparatory to starting off on a very long
journey for which all arrangements had been completed, and we had risen
early that morning in order to have everything in readiness.

John took his pipe from his lips as he spoke, then, rising, stretched
out his arms and braced himself up like one ready and eager for any
emergency; the next minute he was smoking in his usual calm and
thoughtful manner. I rose when he did, then giving a few final
instructions to Mrs. Challen, my housekeeper, we bade her "good-bye" and
stepped out on to the lawn, thence crossing over to a gate at the far
end of the garden, we passed into an extensive field and walked toward a
large shed that stood near its centre.

It was a most beautiful evening near the beginning of August 1909, clear
and calm. The sun had only just passed below the horizon, the sky
immediately above it being a rippled glory of gold, merging higher up
into gold flecked with crimson, then into a placid sea of pale
apple-green. Above this were fleecy clouds of delicate rose-pink, which
reflected their splendours upon the higher parts of the surrounding
hills, the latter standing out clear and sharp, and glowing with roseate
hues, whilst their bases were seen dimly as through a thin veiling of
purple mist.

Surely nothing could be better for the commencement of our long-planned
trip. The moon would not rise until about a quarter-past nine, and
darkness would have descended by the time we were ready to start. This
was exactly what we required, because we did not wish either our
preparations or our departure to be observed.

Just as we arrived within hail of the shed the door opened, and a
rugged-featured man with sandy hair stepped out. This was Kenneth
M'Allister, our engineer and general factotum in all mechanical
matters--a typical specimen of a Scotch engineer. He had followed his
profession in its different phases on tramp-steamers, on ocean liners,
naval gunboats, and even on battle-ships, besides having served for
several years in the workshops of a great firm of electrical engineers.

Whether repairing a broken propeller-shaft two or three scores of tons
in weight, the most intricate machinery, or the most delicate electric
mechanism, he was equally at home and sure in his work; in fact nothing
seemed to come amiss to him. His machinery was always the object of his
most anxious care, and, providing that all worked satisfactorily,
nothing else troubled him much.

"Well, M'Allister," I called to him, "is everything ready for our trip
to-night?"

"Heh, mon," he replied, "everything is all ready; will you look in and
take a turn round the ship?"

"Certainly we will," I answered; so we all went into the shed, where we
gazed with equal pride and satisfaction upon the splendid shining object
which was housed therein. Here, in perfect readiness for its destined
service, was our air-ship--if it could be so called--upon which we three
had expended years of thought, experiment, and work.

Outwardly it was shaped somewhat like a fish, being constructed of a
special metal--our joint invention--which we had named "martalium." The
metal was composed of aluminium and two other rarer metals which, when
combined together, produced a substance almost as light as aluminium,
yet many times harder and tougher than case-hardened steel; whilst its
surface shone like burnished silver and could never in any circumstances
become tarnished or affected by rust.

The ship was ninety-five feet in length, and its diameter twenty feet in
the broadest part, tapering off to a point at either end.

With the exception of the steering and balancing fans, there was no
machinery whatever visible on the exterior of the vessel. Several
windows along each side, together with a few at the top and bottom of
the vessel, gave light to the interior, and would allow for observations
being made in any direction. These windows were all constructed of a
special toughened glass obtained from Vienna, very thick and warranted
to withstand the hardest blows. Along each side of the vessel there was
an observation platform or gallery on to which the exterior doors
opened, and each gallery was provided with a protecting railing.

The interior of the ship was divided into five separate compartments,
the rear one being the general living and sleeping room, having
observation windows so arranged as to command an outlook in all
directions. The next compartment was mainly a store-room, but, like all
the others, could be used for observation purposes; next to that was a
small compartment intended for a special purpose which will hereafter be
apparent; then another containing water storage, apparatus for
compressing or rarefying air, as well as machinery for producing the
latter chemically.

Lastly, right in the forepart of the vessel was M'Allister's special
sanctum, containing the driving, lighting, warming, and steering
machinery, but electric buttons and switches were also provided for
controlling these in every compartment, so that whichever one we
happened to be in we were prepared for all emergencies. Periscopes
capable of being turned in all directions also communicated with every
compartment, thus we could always see what might be around us.

All the machinery was either electric or magnetic, some of it being very
simple; other portions were extremely intricate, but nearly all was the
outcome of our joint inventions. Such parts as could not profitably be
made by ourselves had been carefully distributed between several firms
of founders and engineers, in order that none could have any means of
discovering the use to which they were intended to be put. The whole of
the shell of the vessel was double, with a packed space between the two
skins; and each door opened into a small lobby, having another door on
the farther side, to ensure that every part might be kept perfectly
air-tight when required.

By the time we had completed a thorough inspection of the vessel and its
machinery, and overhauled the stores to make sure that everything
requisite was on board, it had become nearly dark, so, moving a switch,
M'Allister swung open the great doors at the end of the shed. The vessel
was standing upon a low trolley having many wheels running on rails,
with a small electric motor beneath it, and, upon M'Allister moving the
trolley switch, the whole affair glided smoothly out into the open
field. I may as well confess that we owed this trolley and the mode of
its working to ideas gained during an inspection of the construction and
working of the conduit trams belonging to the London County Council.

When the vessel was out in the open we congratulated ourselves upon its
splendid proportions and business-like appearance.

I asked M'Allister whether "he was satisfied with the result of our
labours?"

"Mon," he replied, "she's grand, and it's fine to have the handling of
such machinery; everything works as slick as grease!" It was a pleasure
to hear him talk about his machines, for he was always so enthusiastic
where they were concerned.

"Now," I suggested, "before we start we'll give our good ship her name."

"Bravo!" said John Claxton, "and we'll drink to her success, a good
voyage and a safe return"; and he was so struck by the brilliancy of his
idea that he actually took his pipe from his lips, and, holding it in
his hand, regarded it with thoughtful contemplation for quite three
minutes.

I accordingly went to the store-room and brought out two bottles of
champagne. Directly M'Allister saw them he entered a vigorous and
emphatic protest, saying, "Heh, Professor! you're surely not going to
celebrate this most auspicious event with such poor fizzy stuff as
champagne? Let's have a wee drop of good old Scotch whisky, and do the
thing properly!"

John Claxton here interposed: "Let M'Allister have his whisky if he
prefers it, and we'll have the 'fizz'!" So I went laughing to the store
again and returned with a bottle of special Scotch, whereat
M'Allister's eye gleamed as he smiled approval.

Then, taking up a bottle of the champagne, I broke it over the prow of
the vessel, and we solemnly christened her the _Areonal_ in honour of
the planet for which we were bound.

Raising high our glasses we gave the toast of "_The Areonal_; may she
and her passengers have a good voyage and a safe return home!"
M'Allister peered over the rim of his glass, and, with upturned eyes,
remarked that "his old wife in Glasgow would be looking for his safe
return in a few months' time"; then his glass slowly tipped up, and the
old Scotch whisky disappeared.

Claxton and I at once stepped on board the vessel, and having just set
the machinery slowly moving so as to raise the vessel a few feet, I put
on the neutral power so that the ship remained poised in the air.
M'Allister ran the trolley back into the shed, closed the doors, and
switched off the electric current; then climbed the extending ladder,
and came on board, John steadying the vessel by an anchor rope in the
meantime.

M'Allister took over the command of the machinery, and, setting it in
motion, the _Areonal_ at once rose slowly and gracefully straight up
into the air.

John and I were standing outside on the platform, from whence, looking
toward the house, we could plainly see Mrs. Challen at the open door of
our sitting-room waving farewell to us--her figure silhouetted against
the bright light of the room. We waved back to her in response, but I am
very doubtful if she could see our signal, as she was looking into the
darkness.

We now rose rapidly as M'Allister switched on more power, and far away
to the northward we could see over the whole extent of the vast
metropolis, with its countless miles of lighted streets. On turning
towards the east the Crystal Palace, which was lighted up, was a very
conspicuous object against the skyline over the Sydenham hills.

John, when he saw it, remarked that "it would have been an appropriate
tribute to our enterprise if the Palace Company had provided one of
their grand firework displays as a send-off for us"; "but," he added,
"these companies will never do what is expected of them!" On the
westward side the lights all along the hill where Sutton lies were
clearly visible; farther off was Epsom, and, with the aid of a glass, we
could even faintly see the lights of Guildford in the far distance.

Nearly south of us Croydon seemed from our altitude to lie almost
beneath our vessel. We directed our course towards the south-east,
passing over the railway-station at Thornton Heath, with Croydon to the
right of us, just as the clock of the Croydon Town Hall was striking
nine. The long lines of lighted streets made a fine panorama, and we
could trace the lights of the moving tram-cars out to Anerley, South
Norwood, Purley, Wallington, and Mitcham.

Although we were fully 5000 feet, or nearly a mile, above the earth it
was surprising how clearly we could hear the sounds from below--the
rumble of the electric tram-cars, the clang of their gongs, the
toot-toot of the motor-horns, and, louder still, the whistles of the
locomotives on the London and Brighton Railway were borne to us with
almost startling distinctness through the still night air.

Our electric lights were now switched on at their full power, their
bright beams shining out through the windows all around the vessel.
Whilst we were on the ground we only used just sufficient light to see
by, as we did not wish to draw attention to our proceedings; but now we
were well up and on our way it mattered not who saw us.

With increased speed we passed over South Norwood and the village of
Shirley, rising higher and higher as we proceeded on our way. The moon,
which was just past the full, had not risen above the horizon of those
upon the earth below us; but we had now attained such an altitude that
it became visible to us, low down on the horizon and far ahead on our
left hand. Owing to our height above the earth it soon became impossible
for us to see the places over which we passed, and as we were moving
over an open part of Kent there were very few lights which we could have
seen in any case. As there was nothing of particular interest to attract
our attention which we had not already seen on our trial trips, we
entered our general room and sat down to supper.

The machinery had been set to maintain a speed of 150 miles an hour
until we passed beyond the limits of the earth's atmosphere; for though,
no doubt, we might safely have travelled faster, we did not intend
taking any risk of overheating our vessel by the friction of the
atmosphere.

Notwithstanding the speed at which we were travelling we were quite
unconscious of any movement in our vessel. The impression we received
was not that we were rushing away from the earth, but that the earth was
rapidly falling away from our position in space.

It may, perhaps, be desirable that I should now give a little
information respecting myself and my friends, together with some
explanation of our reasons for embarking upon such a very long voyage.




CHAPTER II

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES--WHY WE DECIDED ON THE VOYAGE


My name is Wilfrid Poynders, and during the greater part of my lifetime
of more than sixty-three years astronomy has been my favourite study.
For the last thirty years the planet Mars has been an object of special
interest to me, and I have devoted much time to observation of the
planet and have endeavoured to make myself fully acquainted with all
that has been discovered or surmised respecting it.

My dear wife had died when I was thirty-six years of age, leaving me
with one child, my son Mark, then about fifteen years old. In my intense
sorrow at my bereavement I should probably have become almost a hermit
had it not been for my boy who, having been carefully educated, was a
bright and intelligent lad. I now took him under my special care and
made it my constant endeavour to impart to him such of my own knowledge
as seemed likely to be useful or interesting, hoping to keep him with me
for many years as a companion. He soon became imbued with my love of
mechanical pursuits and also with my passion for astronomy and allied
sciences, developing an interest in Mars equal to if not surpassing my
own.

His most intimate schoolfellow was John Claxton, and, as there was a
very strong friendship between them, we were so much together that I
came to regard him almost as a second son.

When my boy was in his twentieth year I noticed that a great change came
over him, for instead of being cheerful and high-spirited he became very
quiet and self-absorbed, and there was often a faraway look in his eyes
which puzzled me very much. One morning I went to call him at his usual
time for rising and found him in a deep sleep from which I was unable to
rouse him. After trying some time without effect his stupor so alarmed
me that I immediately sent off for a doctor, who advised that it would
be best to let him lie and he would probably awaken naturally in a few
hours' time. This indeed proved to be the case; and, as soon as he
awoke, the doctor carefully examined him, but could find nothing wrong
to account for what had happened. A month later he had a similar
seizure, with the same result, but this time his sleep lasted nearly
thirty hours. On the doctor's advice I then took him to the seaside for
several weeks' stay, and there he soon regained his usual buoyancy of
spirits.

Shortly after our return home, however, he had a third seizure from
which he never awoke, but, to my profound sorrow, passed quietly away.
Just before the end came I noticed his lips move slightly as though he
were trying to speak, and on bending down to listen I thought I caught
faintly what sounded like the words, "I am coming," but whether this
really were so I could not be sure.

I will not dwell upon the pain and sorrow of that dark and dreary
portion of my life when I was left quite alone, without a single
relative to cheer me, but merely say that my grief at his loss was so
overwhelming that it was long before my former mode of living could be
resumed. John Claxton was almost as deeply affected as myself, for poor
Mark was a most affectionate lad, and had greatly endeared himself to
both of us. John also had his own troubles, having lost his father
during the previous year, and was then living with an aunt and two
cousins, but had never been comfortable with them, as both the boys were
rather wild, and of anything but good dispositions. He had inherited a
substantial income from his father, but this piece of good fortune only
aroused the jealousy and envy of his cousins, who only seemed to
tolerate his presence in their home because of what they could obtain
from him by their sponging propensities.

Although I was not rich, my income was amply sufficient to render me
quite independent of work, and as I felt most lonely and desolate since
Mark's death, I at length begged John to come and live with me. He
joyfully agreed, and from that time our relations have practically been
those of father and son. As our dispositions and likings are very
similar, we are as happy together as past sorrows will permit.

John always had a great fancy for engineering and electrical work, in
which, after some years of training, he became an expert. Being well
endowed with the faculty of invention, he devised and constructed many
new kinds of electric and magnetic machines, and as my tastes also run
in the direction of mechanical work, I have also done a great deal in
connection with such matters.

About six years ago, when the problem of aerial navigation began to be
studied in earnest, John became greatly interested in the matter,
devoting all his time and energies to designing and constructing working
models of air-ships, aeroplanes, and other flying machines.

At that period I was very keen on Martian matters, to such an extent
indeed that my mind was always occupied with the various problems they
presented. One day, in the course of conversation, I suggested that it
would be a splendid thing if we could construct a vessel which would
enable us to visit Mars and see it for ourselves, and thus settle all
our doubts and speculations on the various controversial points which
were so much discussed.

The idea soon had him in its grip, and he then immediately commenced a
series of experiments with a view to designing machinery capable of
carrying a vessel through space. After many failures he thought out a
plan for utilising the earth's gravitation and magnetism as a means of
obtaining the requisite power and storing it up for future use. This
scheme was thoroughly tested and proved to have solved the problem, for
the machinery could transform the power from either positive or negative
to neutral.

The task of making the vessel and machinery was of course too great for
two pairs of hands to undertake, and we were therefore under the
necessity of obtaining a third man to help us. John had known M'Allister
when he was studying electrical work, and suggested that, if available,
he would be just the man to suit us. We at once communicated with him,
making a liberal offer for his assistance in our scheme, and as it was a
question of dealing with an entirely new kind of machinery it appealed
to his professional pride, so, being out of an engagement, he gladly
accepted our offer. He came over to my house and has lived with us ever
since, apparently quite in his element. M'Allister was about fifty years
of age when he joined us, married, but without children. His wife's home
was at Glasgow, and owing to his so often being away at sea for long
periods, she had become so accustomed to the separation that she
declined our offer to find a home for herself and her husband near us.
She paid him a visit occasionally, or he went to spend a few days with
her, but as a permanent arrangement she preferred staying with her
relatives in Glasgow. It was not exactly my ideal of married life, but
as the couple always seemed happy enough when together, and the
arrangement appeared to suit them both, it was not my place to make any
comment.

My house on the outskirts of Norbury was well situated for securing the
privacy we required in carrying on our work and experiments, lying as it
did in the valley on the westward side of a small eminence known as
Pollard's Hill, which effectually screened us from observation by the
inhabitants of the houses in the London Road. Thus we enjoyed complete
seclusion, although not more than a quarter of a mile from that busy
thoroughfare.

Notwithstanding that Pollard's Hill is only a small elevation, and its
rise scarcely noticed when approached from the London Road, when its
summit is gained one is astonished by the extensive and splendid view it
commands over hills and valleys, town and country; and it breaks upon
one almost as a startling surprise when its beauties are seen for the
first time. It is, indeed, so very unexpected to come upon such a fine
and far-spreading view so suddenly and so close to bricks and mortar.
Alas! the latter are fast encroaching upon this delightful but somewhat
neglected spot, and unless the Croydonians are wise enough to secure the
acquirement of the summit of the hill as a public open space, this
splendid view will be entirely lost to future generations.

A further advantage of our situation was its nearness to Croydon and
Wallington, where there were engineering and electrical machinery works;
besides which we also had convenient and easy means of reaching the
metropolis, from whence we could travel to any other town to purchase or
order anything we might require.

Once we had fairly set to work our progress was rapid and our vessel had
practically been complete nearly a year, since when we have undertaken
many voyages at night in order to test its powers and to ascertain where
improvements were needed.

We were much amused to find in the newspapers of this period, especially
in the London Press, numerous letters from various parts of England
describing the appearance of a strange and very brilliant star in the
sky, either at night or in the morning hours before sunrise. Some
described the star as moving in one direction, others stated that it
passed in quite another direction; though it does not appear to have
occurred to any one that stars do not move in this eccentric fashion,
nor at the rapid rate at which this peculiar star was stated to travel.
No one guessed that it was the light of our air-ship which they saw as
we flitted about the country in the dark hours, and often at extremely
high altitudes.

Three extensive fields were occupied by me in connection with my
residence, and these afforded plenty of room for our large shed and
workshops; whilst as north, south, and west of us there was a large
stretch of open country, extending in some directions for miles, there
was little risk of our operations attracting attention. Moreover, we
were always careful not to prepare for any ascent until it was fairly
dark.

Our establishment was a small one, Mrs. Challen being our only indoor
servant. She came to me as a young widow after my wife's death, and has
proved an excellent manager and a most trustworthy servant. I have
therefore left my house in her charge with a feeling of entire certainty
that it will be well looked after in my absence. My solicitors have a
sealed packet containing full instructions as to what is to be done in
the event of my not returning home or communicating with them within
fifteen months from the date of our departure.

Altogether, our little party of three has been a very agreeable one up
to the present. John Claxton is a splendid fellow--a good talker when in
the humour, and an excellent listener when either myself or M'Allister
are in the vein for airing our own particular views. He is rather fond
of chaffing M'Allister, who has a quiet humour of his own, and takes it
all in good part. John has only one weakness--he has become a most
inveterate smoker, and we have learned by experience that in this matter
his wishes must never be opposed. Both M'Allister and myself are also
smokers, though to a much less extent; the former, indeed, more often
prefers to chew navy plug-tobacco--a habit which I am glad to say I
never acquired, but it is a pretty general one amongst those who have
been employed on sea-going vessels. In these matters it is an understood
thing that each is to do as he pleases, without let or hindrance.

One more point and then I will finish this rather long but very
necessary digression. In conversation I am generally addressed by my
colleagues as "Professor." Not that I ever occupied a Professorial Chair
at a university or elsewhere, but it arose in this way: When John first
came to live with me he felt a diffidence, owing to the disparity
between our ages, in addressing me by my Christian name; on the other
hand, to call me by my surname seemed to him far too cold and formal. So
on one occasion, when I had been holding forth on my favourite science,
he remarked, "I think, sir, if you will allow me, I shall call you
'Professor' in future; the title seems most appropriate for one who has
the power of conveying information on scientific subjects in so clear
and interesting a manner."

I was much amused at this proposal, but fully appreciating the
difficulty he felt in the matter, replied, "John, you really flatter me
too much; but as you seem to think the title fits, you may call me by it
if you like." So from that time forth John always addressed me as
"Professor," and from hearing him constantly using the term, M'Allister
soon acquired the same habit. I am afraid they both credited me with
rather more erudition than I really possessed; but although I should
never attempt to talk at large on matters with which I was not fully
acquainted, I have lived long enough to know that it is not always wise
to go very far in disillusioning others of the favourable opinions they
may have formed respecting one's own abilities. It is, perhaps, one of
those matters in which "a still tongue makes a wise head"; and, if dealt
with in a tactful way, may be of real advantage to both persons. The one
will continue to be receptive of the ideas of the person whom he esteems
as well qualified to impart sound and reliable information, whilst the
other will honestly endeavour to live up to his reputation, and be most
scrupulously careful to make sure of the accuracy of the information
which he desires to impart.




CHAPTER III

WE APPROACH THE MOON--A MAGNIFICENT SPECTACLE


When we had finished our supper John remarked, "Professor, I am a little
mystified in regard to our present position. We have started on a voyage
to Mars, but up to the present I have not seen even a glimpse of the
planet to-night. How is that?"

"Hear, hear," chimed in M'Allister. "Mon, I've been bothering over the
very same thing ever since we started, and wondering where yon little
red star has gone to!"

"The question is very soon answered," I replied: "it is a case of 'the
Spanish fleet you cannot see because it's not in sight.' Mars does not
rise above our late horizon until about a quarter-past ten, and was
therefore hidden by the earth whilst we were out on the platform; so we
could not expect to see it then, but if we look out now no doubt we
shall see it."

We went over to a window, and I pointed out the planet, remarking,
"There it is; that little red star is the world which we hope to land
upon in a few weeks' time. You will notice that it does not lie quite in
the direction in which we are moving, for I must tell you that we are
not on our course to Mars at present. I thought we should all be glad to
have a look at the moon from a close point of view now we have the
chance, and M'Allister will remember that I gave him instructions just
before supper to direct our course so as to head off the moon in its
journey."

"Quite right, Professor, so you did," said M'Allister; "but I did not
fully understand the reason of your instructions."

"But," interrupted John, "are we not going rather out of our way?"

"Yes, that is so, John," I replied, "but a few thousand miles more or
less will make very little difference to us at the rate we shall travel,
especially if you allow for the fact that the earth and moon are both
moving nearly in the direction we wish to go. Besides, I hope to
approach sufficiently near the moon to enable us to add a little more
power to our store, so it will not all be lost time; and we can also use
the moon to give us a fresh start. But for the fact that it would be
best for us to reach the moon before it has waned to any large extent we
might have delayed our start for many days, and, whilst considerably
shortening our journey, still arrived at Mars on the date we have
fixed."

Our chronometer was housed in a substantial non-magnetic cubicle, with a
very thick glass window, in order to protect it from the magnetism and
electricity which pervaded our vessel. On looking at the chronometer I
found the time was nearly eleven o'clock. We had, therefore, been nearly
two hours on our journey and had travelled some three hundred miles,
mostly in an upward direction from the earth; so if there were any of
the earth's atmosphere around our vessel it must be of the most extreme
tenuity, and we might safely increase our speed.

I accordingly gave M'Allister the order to switch on the power
gradually, up to our full speed, and it was not long before we were
rushing through space at the rate of over eighty-three thousand miles an
hour. At this rate, as I told them, we might expect to reach the moon in
a little over sixteen hours, allowing for loss in slackening down at the
latter part of the journey.

"It so happens," I said, "that the moon's present distance from the
earth is rather less than 226,000 miles, being its nearest approach to
the earth during this month."

John at once asked, "How it happened that, if the moon were only this
comparatively short distance away from us, I reckoned it would require
over sixteen hours to reach it at the tremendous speed we were now
moving"; and added, "I thought we should be there in about three hours."

"Ah, John," I replied, "you have forgotten that the earth is rushing
along and carrying the moon with it nearly as fast as we are travelling,
and you are reckoning as though they were standing still all the time.
As a matter of fact we are only gaining on the moon by a little over
fifteen thousand miles an hour, and we must allow for slackening speed
long before we reach the moon, so we cannot expect to cover the distance
in less than sixteen hours. You will see that if we did not travel
faster than the moon is moving away from us we should never catch it up
at all!"

"That explains it all, Professor," said John, "and I must confess I felt
rather puzzled at the length of time required to reach the moon, so was
altogether out in my calculations."

After we had been proceeding at this rate for nearly two hours,
M'Allister came hurrying into our compartment in a state of great
excitement.

"Professor," he exclaimed with a gasp, "something's gone wrong
altogether, and I don't know what to do!"

"Gone wrong!" I repeated. "Why, what is the matter?"

"Mon," he answered, "everything is the matter! A while back we were
rushing towards the moon, but just now when I looked ahead there wasn't
any moon to be seen. I happened to go round to the other window and look
back and, my word! if there wasn't the moon right behind us! We have
been travelling so very fast that we must have run past it without
knowing we had done so."

"Oh, we could not possibly have done that!" I exclaimed.

"But there's more to come, Professor," continued M'Allister. "When I
last saw the moon it was nearly full and not so very much bigger than
when we saw it at starting, but now this moon behind us is an enormous
thing; yet it is only a new moon, or rather what folks call a new moon
with the old moon in its arms!"

"Oh, now I understand," I replied. "It's all right, M'Allister, and you
can make your mind quite easy. You were not able to see the moon when
you first looked through the window because it was nearly in a direct
line with your course, and therefore just hidden by the prow of the
vessel. It's still ahead of us and still nearly full: if you had looked
out of the conning tower or used the periscope you would have seen it."

"Heh, Professor," he interjected, "I know I couldn't see the moon if it
was straight ahead of our course, but then what about that enormous new
moon that's behind us? I saw that right enough."

"That enormous new moon, M'Allister, is only our own little world which
we left a few hours ago," I replied.

He stared at me as though bewildered, and after pondering a while,
exclaimed, "Losh, mon, you surely don't mean to say that our own little
world changes about in the same way as the moon does--sometimes new and
sometimes full?"

Here John interposed. "Yes, M'Allister, you can take it from me that it
is just what our world does do. I think you are aware that, like the
moon, our world simply reflects the light it receives from the sun, and
does not shine by its own light. So one side is light and the other side
is dark, according to its position in regard to the sun. From our
present position we are only able to see a small portion of the lighted
side, the remainder being dark except for the moonlight shining upon it,
so it looks just like a large new moon. It really serves as a moon to
our moon, but its phases follow each other in reverse order. Thus, when
the moon is full, the earth's disc is all dark, and when the moon is in
its first quarter the earth, as seen from there, would be in its third
quarter, and so on through all its phases. Do you follow all that,
M'Allister?"

"Well, mon," replied M'Allister, with a sly grin, "I've just heard you
say it; but"--and here he turned to me--"is it all correct, Professor?"

"Yes, quite correct," I answered, greatly amused at his distrust of
John's statements.

"M'Allister, you're like the Apostle Thomas," commented John, evidently
a little nettled; "so you really doubted my word after all!"

"Heh, mon," he answered, "you're not the Professor, you know; and I
thought maybe you were pulling my leg!"

"Well," laughed John, "perhaps you _will_ get your leg pulled the next
time I condescend to give you a lesson in astronomy!"

After this little spar between my two colleagues we proceeded to the
machine-room, which John and I carefully inspected, to make sure that
all was working properly; and having satisfied ourselves on this point,
we gave M'Allister his instructions for the 'night'; though of course
there was no night now.

Mounting the steps of the conning turret, we then had a look at the
earth, from which we were so rapidly moving away. It appeared about
fifteen degrees in angular diameter, showing that we had travelled some
thirty thousand miles from it.

The full moon, as seen from the earth, appears just about half a degree
in diameter--sometimes a little more, sometimes rather less; so the
earth was apparently about thirty times the diameter the moon usually
appears to us. It was only a thin crescent where lighted by the sun, but
well might M'Allister describe it as "enormous," for it appeared still
larger to him when he saw it some thirty minutes earlier and mistook it
for the new moon.

When we came down again John, very thoughtfully, said to me, "Professor,
you have had a very long, tiring day; and when we reach the moon, we
shall probably stay up several hours to look at it, so you had better
take as long a sleep as possible. There will be no need to break your
rest, for I'm the younger, and will get about by six o'clock, and
relieve M'Allister, who can go on all right up to then, as he has three
hours less work to his credit than we have to-day. If your advice is
needed, I will call you at once; but, no doubt, we shall do very well
till we arrive within a few thousand miles of the moon. We will slacken
speed very gradually from about two o'clock in the afternoon, so as not
to approach the orb too rapidly."

I had, indeed, as he said, had a long, tiring day, having risen soon
after four o'clock yesterday morning, and it was now nearly 2 "A.M." by
terrestrial time; so, thanking him for his kind consideration, I bade
them both "good night," and gladly proceeded to bed, John following soon
after.

He was as good as his word, and actually allowed me to sleep on until
nearly half-past three in the "afternoon," when he roused me, and,
having dressed, I snatched a hasty meal and then at once proceeded to
the machine-room, where my first act was to look at the moon. There it
was below us, but still slightly ahead of the _Areonal_; and its
magnificence was so overpowering, that it almost seemed to take my
breath away, although I was fairly well prepared for the sight. Many
times when viewing it through the telescope I have almost lost myself in
admiration of the sublime spectacle it presents; but what I had seen on
those occasions could not be compared with the splendour of the view now
before us.

Here, without any atmosphere to dim or otherwise mar the view, the
brilliancy of the lighted portion of the disc was absolutely dazzling,
whilst the extreme delicacy of its varied tints and the subtle nuances
of colour, which we now saw to perfection, were most charming and
delightful to any one endowed with artistic perceptions. We were only
about four thousand miles from this beautiful orb, its angular diameter
measuring about thirty degrees, or nearly sixty times its apparent
diameter, as seen from the earth; thus it appeared to cover a very large
circle on the sky.

John and M'Allister told me they had both been gazing upon the splendid
scene for a very long time with astonishment and delight equal to my
own; and the latter went on to say, "Professor, did you ever see such a
sight in your life? I never did, and could never have imagined that
anything could be so beautiful! Mon, it's worth many a journey like this
to see such a bonnie thing!"

"You are quite right in saying that, M'Allister," I answered; "it is,
indeed, a grand and marvellous sight! I can assure you that when I have
been observing the moon in its full and glowing splendour, it has often
seemed to me the most exquisitely beautiful object I have ever looked
upon; yet now it appears far more beautiful than when seen through the
telescope!"




CHAPTER IV

CLOSE TO THE MOON--I GIVE SOME INFORMATION ABOUT IT


We were now moving at a comparatively slow speed, yet the size of the
moon's disc was very rapidly expanding as we approached nearer and
nearer to it. In the course of a little over half-an-hour we were within
ten miles of its surface, which now seemed to fill the whole space below
us; and its rotundity was most impressive. The shadows of the mountains
and other elevated portions near the terminator[4] were jet black, owing
to the absence of an atmosphere; and, seen contrasted with the brilliant
lighting of the parts exposed to the full glare of the sun, appeared
almost like deep holes in the lunar surface.

John now remarked, "Professor, you are aware that I have only a rather
vague general knowledge of astronomy, although I take an interest in the
subject, and that I know still less about the dimensions and physical
character of the moon and planets; so perhaps you will be good enough to
give us a little detailed information respecting this beautiful orb.
Most of it will be news to me, and probably it will all be fresh to
M'Allister."

"Heh mon," the latter replied, "just put me among machinery and I'll
tell you what's what, but I never learned anything about astronomy, so
will not pretend to any knowledge of it, but now I should be very glad
to hear what the Professor has to say about it."

"Well, friends," I replied, "it is not my wish to lecture you upon the
subject, so I will merely just run over a few of the bare facts.

"To begin with--the moon is very much smaller than the earth, its
diameter being only 2160 miles, while the earth's diameter is 7918
miles. Being a smaller globe its mass is much more loosely compacted
than that of the earth, so, although it would take nearly fifty globes
the same as the moon to make one globe as large as the earth, it would
require nearly eighty such globes to make one as heavy as the earth.

"The moon's distance from the earth is generally given as being about
238,000 miles, but this is its mean distance. When farthest away from
our world its distance is about 260,000 miles, but at its nearest it is
less than 220,000 miles distant. This difference of course arises from
the eccentricity of the moon's orbit, and it explains why we sometimes
see the moon a trifle larger than it appears at other times. By this I
mean that it really is seen larger, because it is closer to us. But you
have no doubt often noticed that when the moon is near the horizon it
seems to be very large indeed. This apparent increase of size is,
however, an illusion, owing to our unconsciously comparing it with the
apparent size of terrestrial objects.

"The surface of the moon shows evidence of very violent volcanic action
having occurred in every part of it, and astronomers in the past were
much puzzled to account for the excessive volcanic energy which was
indicated by what they saw, as such a small globe as the moon would not,
in the ordinary course of events, have ever possessed sufficient heat to
have developed such violent action. A theory of later years has,
however, provided a reasonable explanation. It is that the moon was at
one time a part of the same mass as the earth, which became separated
from it before the earth had quite cooled down and solidified into its
present form, and was then gradually driven farther and farther away
from the earth by natural forces. It was therefore originally as hot as
the rest of the mass which formed the earth, but being formed into a
smaller globe of much less gravity--only one-sixth of that of the
earth--volcanic action of the same intensity as that on the earth would
have a much more far-reaching effect. A force which on the earth would
project volcanic lava and scoriae a distance of three miles would, on the
moon, project it a distance of eighteen miles. This accounts for the
very high mountains we see on the moon, some of which are comparatively,
for the size of the globe, much higher than those on the earth. It also
accounts for the vast size of the lunar craters, ring-plains, and
ring-mountains.

"These latter are formations quite unknown upon our earth, but on the
moon they are numbered by hundreds of all sizes, from a few miles up to
one hundred and fifty miles in diameter. They are large plains, roughly
circular in shape, and surrounded by mountains; in a few cases the ring
is in some parts a double range of mountains. Sometimes the plain (or
'floor,' as it is termed) is many thousands of feet below the general
level of the lunar surface; in a few cases it is raised considerably
above it, and in one or two instances, instead of being flat, the floor
is convex. Some of the mountain rings are comparatively low, but in
other cases the mountains are fifteen to twenty thousand feet in height,
or even higher. Frequently a mountain rises near the centre of the
floor, some rings containing more than one such mountain, whilst others
have none at all.

[Illustration: _Drawn by M. Wicks_ Plate II

IDEAL VIEW OF LUNAR SCENERY

As there is no atmosphere on the moon, the sky is a dense black, and the
stars shine brilliantly in the daytime. The view is a typical one,
showing numerous craters and cracks, and a small ring-mountain with
terracing. Ring-mountains and plains vary from a few miles to 150 miles
diameter, some mountains being nearly 20,000 feet in height.]

"There are numerous instances where one mountain ring has overlapped or
cut into another, thus indicating that it was a later formation; and in
many cases the mountains are 'terraced,'[5] as it is termed, either
owing to a series of landslips or to the rise and fall of a sea of lava,
which cooled as it sank down, thus forming terraces. Small craters
abound all over the surface of the moon and on the floors of the rings;
cracks in the lunar surface are also numerous.

"As regards the lunar mountains, it may truly be said that we have a
fairly accurate knowledge of peaks and mountains which would either be
too precipitous to be climbed, or quite inaccessible to us, if we could
actually land upon the moon; and the whole visible surface has been more
carefully and thoroughly mapped out and studied than is the case with
many parts of our own earth.

"If the moon has any atmosphere it must be so very attenuated indeed
that human beings could not possibly live in it at all; but nothing has
yet been detected which would enable us to say positively that any
atmosphere does exist there, although there have been some indications
observed which support the supposition that there may be an extremely
thin air.

"Nor does it appear possible that there is any water upon its surface at
the present; in fact, many astronomers are of opinion that the moon
never did have any water upon it. Personally, from a study of many of
the formations as seen through the telescope, it seems to me quite
impossible that they could owe their existence in their present state to
anything but the action of water. They present much the same appearance
as formations on our own earth which we know have been fashioned by that
means. There is no water upon the moon now, I think, though several
large depressions are still called oceans, seas, lakes, or marshes,
because at one time they were believed to be such. Probably in some of
those places, if not in all, water existed millions of years ago; but
ages since they must have lost it either by evaporation or by absorption
into the soil.

"I will not say any more just now, but as we pass above the lunar
surface I will point out a few of the natural features that may be of
interest to you."

M'Allister here paid me the compliment of saying, "Well, Professor, I
always thought astronomy was a very dry and difficult subject; but your
remarks were really very interesting, and quite easy to understand.
There is only one thing that seemed to me rather strange as coming from
a scientific man, and I would like you to explain that."

"Certainly; if there is anything you do not quite understand, you have
only to ask and I will try to clear the matter up," I answered. "What
is it you wish to know?"

"Well," he answered, "I noticed that when you were speaking about the
distance of the moon you always said it was _about_ so far away. Why
didn't you tell us the exact distance? I'm not a scientific man by any
means, but if any one were to ask me the length of a connecting rod on
one of my machines I should say '25 inches,' not 'about 25 inches,' for
that would not do for a practical man!"

"It's like this, M'Allister," I said. "You measure things with a
two-foot rule, which is something you can actually handle, and you know
it is made according to a standard measure and must contain exactly 24
inches. If, however, your rule was 24-1/4 inches long, yet still divided
into twenty-four equal parts, you could measure work with it just the
same, but would know that every measurement was just a little bit out.
If you had no possible means of obtaining another rule, you would have
to put up with a little inexactitude.

"That is just the position in which astronomers are placed; they have to
put up with a measure which they know is not perfectly accurate, yet it
is the best which can be secured.

"Their two-foot rule, so to speak, may be the distance from the earth to
the sun, or the length of the whole diameter of the earth's orbit, and
these cannot be handled like your rule; and although we know the
measurements of these are nearly correct, they are not quite so. Yet the
distances of the moon, planets, stars, &c., have to be measured by these
rules, so it is clear we can only know those distances with a near
approximation to accuracy.

"For this reason astronomers are always trying different means of
ascertaining the sun's exact distance from the earth in order to obtain
a perfectly correct measure; but there are so many difficulties and
complications which affect the result, that it will be a long time yet
before they succeed in their work.

"You will therefore understand that all these figures as to distances
and dimensions of planets and stars are only as near approaches to
correctness as is possible to attain in our present circumstances. They
must not be regarded as literally exact, although they are usually
sufficiently accurate for all general purposes. Astronomers know this
and allow for it; but general readers of books, when they find figures
which do not agree with others they have seen, are apt to regard them as
all being mere guesses, and in this they are doing an injustice to the
painstaking labours of generations of astronomers and mathematicians.

"I shall presently be mentioning the heights of mountains, the size of
ring-plains, craters, &c., but the same reasoning applies to them; the
dimensions given are averages of measurements made by different
observers, and, though not quite accurate, are as near the truth as the
difficult conditions under which they have to be measured will allow."

"Thank you, Professor," said M'Allister as I concluded. "I'm glad I
don't have to work with such rules as those you mention, for
measurements a little bit out of correctness would ruin any machine in
the world."

"Still, M'Allister," I said, "you would have the advantage over
astronomers with your two-foot rule, because you would know that it was
a quarter of an inch too long. Their difficulty is that they do not
know exactly how much their rule is out of correctness, so cannot obtain
absolute accuracy however they may try."

We now set the machines going very slowly and moved toward the northern
part of the moon, where I pointed out the position of the lunar north
pole, and explained that, owing to the very slight inclination of the
lunar axis, there can be but very little variation of seasons in any one
particular part of the moon. Thus, if at one place it were spring, it
would practically always be spring there, but with very cold nights all
through the lunar year. Where it was summer it would practically always
be summer, also with very cold nights, and so on.

I further explained that, as the moon revolves on its axis in the same
time that it takes to make one revolution round the earth, those on the
earth always see the same side of the moon, except when occasionally,
owing to inequalities in the lunar motions, they are afforded a peep
just round portions of the edges at different periods. The remainder of
the other side of the moon has never yet been seen from the earth by
human eyes, and in all probability never will be seen for millions of
years to come.

John, who as usual was smoking like a factory chimney, here removed his
pipe from his mouth and said, "Professor, you stated just now that the
nights on the moon would always be intensely cold, and I should like to
know whether there is any really reliable information respecting the
temperature of the lunar days and nights. I have seen so many
contradictory theories on the subject that I scarcely know what to
believe."

"In that respect," I answered, "I fear that my position is much the
same as yours, for I have absolutely no certain knowledge on the point,
but will just state shortly how the matter stands at present.

"During the past century many investigations have been made by
scientific men respecting the temperatures on the moon, and their
results have differed to an amazing extent. It would take too long, and
be too wearisome, to quote all the authorities, so a few must suffice.
Lord Rosse, who used a thermopile in his experiments, found that in
order to produce the results he obtained, the sunlit surface of the moon
must be heated to a temperature of 500 degrees on Fahrenheit's scale.
Sir John Herschel had previously concluded that the temperature must be
much greater than that of boiling water. On the other hand Ericsson and,
more recently, Professor Langley--who used a bolometer of his own
invention for measuring the heat of the sun's invisible rays--came to
the conclusion that even under continued sunshine the temperature would
rarely, if ever, rise above the freezing point of water.

"Professor Very, however, who has continued the delicate experiments
with the bolometer, and also made other experiments and calculations of
quite recent date, has obtained results more nearly in accordance with
those first quoted, for he found that near the end of the second week's
sunshine on the moon the temperature of the rocks, soil, &c., must rise
to at least 80 degrees Centigrade above the heat of boiling water."

"My word!" said M'Allister, "that's hotter than a ship's engine-room,
and I shouldn't care for such a very high temperature."

"As this is so recent," I proceeded, "and the work of one of our
highest authorities, I think we must accept it as being more correct,
especially as Professor Very has taken into consideration some factors
which had not previously been allowed due weight.

"In connection with this matter of temperature it is necessary to
remember that the days and nights upon the moon are both very long, for
the full lunar 'day' is equal to a month, so the actual lunar day is
equal to fourteen of our days, and the lunar night is of the same
duration. Our 'day' of twenty-four hours is divided into day and night
in unequal proportions, according to the changes in the seasons; but, as
I before remarked, the seasonal changes on the moon are very slight, so
the variations in the lengths of the days and nights are very small.

"But, whatever may be the difference of opinion as to the heat of the
lunar day, there seems to be a pretty general agreement that, owing to
the absence of an atmosphere, the nights must be so intensely cold as to
be almost beyond our conception--probably approaching nearly to the
absolute zero of outer space. Even with an atmosphere the long nights in
our polar regions are so cold that only very strong people can endure
them, notwithstanding every device for obtaining warmth.

"You will gather from this that although the moon appears so beautiful
from a distance, it must be anything but a desirable place of residence
even from a climatic point of view, for we should practically be fried
at midday, while at midnight--or even in the daytime when out of the
direct rays of the sun--we should soon be frozen stiff."

As I said this John chimed in with: "Professor, all things considered,
I think I could smoke my pipe more comfortably upon the earth than upon
the moon. I really don't like such extremes of temperature."

"I am of the same mind," I replied, "and it is because I prefer a more
equable temperature that I have carefully kept our martalium blinds
drawn over those windows of our vessel upon which the sun is shining."




CHAPTER V

WE VIEW THE LUNAR SCENERY IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE


"Now, Professor," exclaimed M'Allister, jumping up with a shrug of the
shoulders, "you've given our friend John a considerable amount of
information on a wee bit dry subject, so, mayhap, you will now give us
something more interesting, and go on with the description of the
natural features of the moon down yonder."

"Yes do, please, Professor," said John; "M'Allister's own temperature is
evidently rising rapidly. Strange, isn't it, that a douche of cold facts
should make our friend so warm!"

"Well, not altogether," I replied laughingly; "there should always be a
healthy reaction after a cold douche. Much depends on the intensity of
the cold applied, and you know that if you touch extremely cold metal it
burns you like hot iron!"

"Professor," chimed in M'Allister, "maybe I _was_ a bit warm, but really
your facts were not so cold as to make me hot."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," I answered.

"At all events, Professor," continued John, "whatever may be
M'Allister's actual temperature, I'm simply burning to know something
about that very striking formation with the steel-grey coloured
flooring which is situated not very far down from the North Pole, and a
little to the east of the central meridian."

"That," I said, "is a large walled plain called Plato, and, being on a
receding curve of the moon, it is seen from the earth foreshortened, so
that it appears to be elliptical in shape. It is about sixty miles in
diameter, and encloses an area of 2700 square miles, which is just about
the area of Lincolnshire. The general height of the mountain walls is
over 3600 feet; one mountain on the east is nearly 7500 feet high, and
others on the north and west are but little lower.

"You will notice that there are several breaks in the walls, and a large
one on the south-west; whilst on the inner slope of the mountains you
can see where a great landslide has occurred.

"It is rather singular, John, that in your first selection you have
chosen a formation which is one of the lunar mysteries!"

"Ah! Professor," said John, smiling, "I always was lucky! What is this
dreadful mystery?" he asked, with an assumed expression of awe.

"Oh, it's not a ghost story, John, nor anything to make your flesh
creep," I said rather grimly. "Usually the floor of a walled plain
becomes brighter as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky, but
Plato actually becomes darker under a high sun. By some it has been
thought that this is merely the effect of contrast with the very bright
surroundings of this formation, and that there is no actual darkening of
the tint. This is certainly not the case, for I have examined it
carefully myself with the telescope--shutting out all the bright
surroundings from the field of view, but the floor still appeared
equally dark.

"Others have suggested that the hot sun causes the growth of some kind
of vegetation all over the plain, the ripening of which makes the floor
darker in tint. As regards this suggestion, it is the fact that upon
Mars the old sea-beds are the places where vegetation is most luxuriant
at the present time; so, if Plato were at one time an enclosed sea, it
might not be impossible that vegetation in some low form might grow and
be nourished by the crude gaseous remains of a former atmosphere. A
greenish tint has occasionally been noticed by some observers, also
several light streaks across the floor, as well as several small
craterlets, which have been duly noted on the maps.

"But before we go any further we will have a better means of seeing, for
it is rather uncomfortable looking directly down upon the moon. So,
John, just lend a hand and we'll fetch one of those large mirrors."

This was done, and the mirror suspended with the upper part projecting
forward, so that when adjusted at the proper angle we could sit and look
straight into the mirror before us and see the reflection of all that
was below. We could still look down at the objects, if we wished to do
so, without shifting our position.

"There, John," I remarked, as we completed this arrangement, "I have
already arranged mirrors in the proper positions at the windows in the
forepart of the vessel, so that in future M'Allister will be able to see
what is nearly straight ahead of him. Now you will understand that I had
a scientific use for the mirrors I provided, and did not require them
merely to admire my beautiful face in as you suggested."

John laughed as I recalled his suggestion, saying, "All right,
Professor, I know you generally have a good reason for what you do."

Now, being more comfortably seated, I drew their attention to some small
isolated mountains on the area to the south of Plato, pointing out Pico,
an isolated mountain over 8000 feet in height, and another with three
peaks not very far from it. To the north-east of these, some distance
away, are the Teneriffe and Straight Ranges; also isolated groups.

"You will remember," I remarked, "that I said there were several
formations which seemed to me to owe their present appearance to the
action of water. Now look well at all this district before us--does it
not seem to bear out my contention? Those numerous small mountains and
isolated groups were not, I think, originally isolated, but connected
with the adjoining ranges. If we assume that Plato was once an enclosed
sea, or lake, which burst through the mountain walls--possibly owing to
their being weakened or broken by volcanic action--there would have been
a tremendous outrush of water, which must have carried away a good deal
of the softer material of these hills and mountains; whilst, in after
years, the continual wash of the waters, combined with aerial
denudation, would gradually have worn away all but the hardest parts of
these formations.

"Most probably the whole of the surrounding area was also at some time a
sea, though volcanic action has since altered its surface conformation,
and in places it bears evidence of having been covered with lava. It is
not unusual on our world for volcanoes to burst up from under the sea,
so even the evidence of volcanic action does not, as some seem to think,
negative the possibility of water ever existing here; and it may not be
inappropriate to point out that our hydrographers have proved that our
ocean-beds are not always smooth, but are often diversified by high
hills and deep valleys."

M'Allister here interjected: "Professor, would you kindly tell us
something about that fine range of mountains over yonder, just to the
right hand?"

"Oh yes," I replied; "I was just about to mention that mountain range,
which is called the Alps after those in Switzerland; and that peak on
the front portion, just south of the great valley you see, is named Mont
Blanc, and is about 12,000 feet in height.

"You will notice a very large number of peaks in this and the other
neighbouring ranges--in fact, several thousands have been marked on our
large maps.

"Cutting diagonally in a north-westerly direction, completely through
the Alps, you will notice a long and deep valley. This is known as the
'Great Alpine Valley,' and is over eighty miles long, and varies from
about three miles to six and a half miles in width. At the eastern end
it is some 11,000 feet deep, debouching on to the plain in several
comparatively narrow passes, whilst at its north-western extremity it is
very shallow, and emerges on to what is known as the Sea of Cold, which
covers an area of about 100,000 square miles. This valley seems to
afford another example of formation by the action of water.

"Amongst the three thousand peaks comprised in the Apennine range just
below the Alps, are several mountains of considerable altitude," I
remarked, pointing out Mount Huygens, nearly 20,000 feet high, Mount
Hadley, 15,000 feet, and Mount Woolf, 12,000 feet in height. "This range
curves round towards the east, and finishes with a fine ring-plain
called Eratosthenes--some thirty-seven miles in diameter, with a floor
depressed 8000 feet below the lunar surface. It encloses a central
mountain, and on the east wall there is one peak which rises 16,000 feet
above the floor.

"The ranges in this part of the moon are, perhaps, more like those on
our earth than others to be found on its surface, but much more wild and
rugged.

"Eastward and northward of these ranges is the Sea of Showers, on which
there are several fine ring-mountains and walled plains--notably
Autolychus and Aristillus, two very perfect ring-mountains some 9000
feet high.

"One of the most striking, on account of its size and situation, is that
large one which is called Archimedes, and is about fifty miles in
diameter; and you will notice that a rugged mass of mountains and high
hills extends from it to a distance of over a hundred miles on the
south. The floor of this walled plain is only about 600 feet below the
general level, and the mountain walls average about 4000 feet in height;
but there is at least one peak some 7000 feet high.

"You will see a little below and westward of Archimedes the commencement
of a system of large cracks or crevasses in the lunar surface which are
known as 'rills.' Many such systems are found in various parts of the
moon; some of the cracks are comparatively shallow, but, according to
Professor Langley, others are known to be at least eight miles deep, and
may be infinitely deeper, though I cannot say I understand how these
great depths have been arrived at. The length of the cracks varies from
a few miles to over three hundred miles, and from a few hundred yards to
some miles in width. They are attributed partly to volcanic action, but
mainly to the contraction of the crust of the lunar globe as it became
cold. Being so much smaller, the moon would cool much more rapidly than
the earth, and the disruptive effects would necessarily be greater."

John here touched my arm, and pointing to some mountains on the borders
of a large elongated oval area, close to the north-western terminator
where the sun was setting, asked me what they were. I explained that the
dark area was known as the Mare Crisium, or Sea of Conflicts, and is
possibly the deepest of the large lunar depressions.

"It is about 280 miles long from north to south, and 355 miles wide from
east to west, but, owing to its position, the width is seen from the
earth very much foreshortened, so that it really looks nearly twice as
long as it is wide. It contains an area of about 75,000 square miles,
thus being as large as the combined area of Scotland and Ireland, and
the five largest northern counties of England. It is surrounded by
mountains, some being over 11,000 feet high, reckoning from the dark
floor."

I drew their attention to Proclus--a ring-mountain on the eastern side
of this sea--which is about eighteen miles in diameter, and the second
brightest of the lunar formations. "From its neighbourhood several
bright streaks diverge in different directions, two extending a long way
across the dark area, and there is a longer one striking towards the
north and another towards the south at an angle of about 120 degrees
with each other.

"Seen through the telescope, these ray-streaks often appear very
brilliant under a high sun, looking in fact very like electric
search-lights; though I notice that the Rev. T.W. Webb has rather
curiously remarked that these particular streaks are not very easily
seen. Similar ray-streaks, many enormously longer than these, are found
in various parts of the lunar surface, but their exact nature and origin
has never yet been definitely settled. They only come into view when the
sun is beginning to be high up in the lunar sky, and the higher the sun,
the brighter the rays appear. Some of the shorter ones are ridges, but
this is evidently not the case with the others, for they cast no
shadows, as ridges would when the sun is low. Very many radiate from a
large ring-mountain called Tycho, in the southern hemisphere; and one of
them extends, with some breaks, nearly three thousand miles, passing
northward over the Sea of Serenity and finally disappearing on the
moon's north-western edge, or 'limb,' as it is termed.

"Professor Pickering assumes that these rays were caused by volcanic
dust or other light reflecting material emitted from a series of small
craters, and states that they are really made up of a series of short
rays placed or joined end to end. What I have observed myself seems to
bear out this latter statement; but the opinion I have formed as to
their origin differs from the theory of Professor Pickering. It seems to
me more probable that the volcanic dust was carried by a strong wind,
split up into two or more separate currents by a succession of peaks.
The wind currents swept clean the area over which they actually passed,
but dust fell or drifted in the lines between the currents. Exactly the
same thing may be observed in connection with snow-storms on our earth
when accompanied by a high wind. One part of the earth's surface will be
swept clean by the wind current, whilst a long line of the adjoining
surface is covered with a thick deposit of snow. I have also noticed
that where the ray-streaks impinge upon a mountain, or ring, there is an
appearance of spreading out and heaping up of the bright material very
much as snow would be spread out or drifted up in similar situations on
the earth."

M'Allister here interrupted with the remark that, when we were
approaching the moon, he had particularly noticed that all appearance of
the face of the "man in the moon" had vanished. He said he had expected
to see that more distinctly as we got nearer.

"That would not be the case, M'Allister," I answered. "The resemblance
to a human face which we see from the earth is caused by the combined
effect of the bright and dusky areas on the lunar surface as seen from a
distance. The depressed dark areas, which we call seas, form the eyes,
nose, and mouth of the face, but when we had approached nearer to the
moon the details of the surface configuration stood out so much more
distinctly that they entirely obliterated the general effect of the
markings as seen from a distance."

"Professor," exclaimed John, "I have read that before telescopes were
invented it was thought by many that the markings seen on the moon were
really the features of our own earth reflected by the moon as in a
mirror. Is that correct?"

"Oh yes, John," I said. "It seems to have been a fairly general belief
in many parts of the world, and travellers tell us that, even within
very recent times, they have found in some of the more out-of-the-way
parts of the world that the same idea is still held by uneducated
people!"

Objects of interest being so numerous on the lunar surface we could only
give a comprehensive glance at many of them, and as we had so many
places to inspect, I now gave M'Allister the order to steer eastward.

He accordingly moved his switches and the _Areonal_ quickly passed over
the Sea of Tranquillity, which has an area of 140,000 square miles; then
over the Sea of Vapours, a smaller area, parts of which have a dusky
green tint, from whence to the northward we had a view over the Sea of
Serenity, another deep depression nearly as large as the Sea of
Tranquillity, and much of which is a light green colour.

Then we came again to the Sea of Showers, a large "sea" having an area
of 340,000 square miles; and, still moving eastward, the great lunar
"Ocean of Storms" soon came into view. This covers a very large portion
of the eastern and north-eastern part of the moon's surface, and, with
all its bays and indentations, is estimated to be two million square
miles in extent.

I, however, again reminded them that, although these areas are termed
seas and oceans, no water exists there now, whatever may have been the
case in the long distant past. They are now only large depressions, and
not often level but intersected by hills, ridges, and even mountains.

As we passed along I called their particular attention to the
magnificent "Bay of Rainbows" on the north-eastern coast of the Sea of
Showers. "From Cape Laplace (9000 feet high) on the western extremity,
to Cape Heraclides (4000 feet high) on the eastern extremity, this great
bay is about 140 miles across, the depth of its curvature being over
eighty miles. It bears a very strong resemblance to many large bays on
our sea-coasts in various parts of the world, but I am not aware of any
such bay which is bordered by a mass of such lofty mountains as this is.

"We are looking at it now under a high sun, but when the sun has only
just risen sufficiently high to illuminate all those high mountains,
whilst the lower surroundings are still in shadow, the great bay
presents in the telescope the appearance of a brilliant luminous arch
springing from the lighted part of the moon and extending far out over
the dark part of the disc.

"Farther eastward, and lower down on the Ocean of Storms, you will
observe what is admitted by all to be the very brightest large formation
upon the moon, viz. Aristarchus--a ring-plain nearly thirty miles in
diameter, the floor of which is 5000 feet below the surface level. It
possesses a central mountain, very difficult to measure on account of
the general brightness, but believed to be about 1300 feet high.
Well-defined terraces are seen on the mountain walls enclosing the area,
and many external ridges are connected with the walls, especially to the
south. This formation is evidently covered with some substance which
reflects light to a greater extent than that on similar formations;
indeed it appears so bright that when the moon is new and the whole of
this part of the disc is dark, Aristarchus can still be seen with a
telescope, and this gave rise in the past to the idea that it was a
volcano in actual eruption. The explanation is, however, more prosaic,
because the mountain is really brought into view by earthshine on its
bright covering. When the moon is new the earth is almost fully lighted
on the side toward the moon, and sheds a faint light on the dark portion
of its disc, thus producing the phenomenon known as 'the old moon in the
new moon's arms.'

"Close to Aristarchus you will notice another ring-plain, which is
called Herodotus, about twenty-three miles in diameter, with a floor
7000 feet depressed; but this formation is not nearly so bright as its
neighbour. That high plateau between them is notable on account of the
T-shaped cleft in it, which runs into that other long zig-zag cleft (in
some parts two miles wide and 1600 feet in depth), whose direction
changes abruptly several times in its length of over one hundred miles.

"Turning from this towards the south-west you will see the most majestic
formation to be found upon the moon--the great ring-plain called
'Copernicus,' after the founder of our present system of astronomy. It
is about sixty miles in diameter, only roughly circular in shape, and as
it stands isolated upon the great ocean-bed it is most favourably
situated for observation. A large number of very high ridges, separated
by deep valleys, radiate from it in all directions to a distance of
hundreds of miles, presenting the appearance of a grand system of
buttresses to the mountain walls. These walls are high, and contain a
very large number of peaks which, when seen through the telescope as
they catch the sunlight, look like a string of bright pearls shining on
the border of the ring. A peak on one side is 12,000 feet in altitude,
on the other side is one only 1000 feet lower, whilst, rising from near
the central part of the floor, are no less than five small mountain
peaks. Owing to its size, brightness, and isolated position, this
splendid ring-mountain can be seen from the earth without the aid of a
glass; but even a field-glass will reveal much in this and similar
formations which cannot be detected by the unaided eye.

"The Rev. T.W. Webb has termed Tycho, in the southern hemisphere, 'the
Metropolitan Crater of the Moon,' but, in my opinion, Copernicus is,
owing to its position and grandeur, much more worthy of that dignity.
Tycho is fine in itself, but is not so favourably situated, being
surrounded by other formations somewhat in the same way as St. Paul's
Cathedral is surrounded and shut in, for the most part, by other and
meaner buildings.

"How much more should we appreciate the splendid proportions and majesty
of our Metropolitan Cathedral if we could view it as an isolated
building with a fine open space all around it!"

"I quite agree with that, Professor," remarked John, "and I have always
thought it a great pity that Sir Christopher Wren was not allowed to
carry out his original plan in this respect."

We were looking at the Carpathian range of mountains just to the
northward of Copernicus, when M'Allister touched my arm, exclaiming,
"Look, Professor, at all those tiny craters near the western side of
Copernicus. Why, there are so many of them that the ground for miles
round looks like a honeycomb, and in some places there are straight rows
of them!"

"Yes," I said, "this part of the lunar surface is simply riddled with
tiny craterlets, and some of them are utilised as tests for the
definition of our telescopes. I have heard it remarked that a map of
this part of the moon presents almost the appearance of the froth on a
glass of stout when it has settled down, the very numerous tiny
air-bubbles of different sizes representing the craterlets; and really
it does bear such a resemblance.

"Almost due east of Copernicus is another bright and isolated ring-plain
named Kepler, after the celebrated astronomer. This is some twenty-two
miles in diameter and surrounded by very bright streaks of light,
extending in some directions over seventy miles, the whole nimbus of
light covering an area of nearly ten thousand square miles. These really
are streaks, not ridges, for, as you will see, nearly all the surface
surrounding this formation is flat and level.

"Some of the streaks from Kepler radiate in the direction of
Aristarchus, others towards Copernicus, cutting right through the rays
from those formations. From this it is gathered that Copernicus was
formed first, then Aristarchus, and Kepler still later on in the moon's
history.

"The surrounding wall of Kepler is comparatively low with respect to
the lunar surface level, but the depth of the crater is nearly ten
thousand feet below the mountain peaks. The whole formation is covered
with the same light-reflecting material as the streaks which surround
it."




CHAPTER VI

THE SCENERY OF THE MOON'S SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE


I now directed M'Allister to steer across the lunar equator into the
southern hemisphere, and our attention was soon attracted by a very
large walled plain on the eastward side of our course.

John asked me what it was called, and I explained that it was named
Grimaldi, being also well known to observers as the darkest tinted of
all the large lunar formations. As seen from the earth it appears a
narrow ellipse, but we could see its full width, which is 129 miles, the
length being 148 miles. It is also noteworthy as one of the few plains
which are convex in section, and it is so large that its area is equal
to the combined area of the whole of the counties of England south of
the line of the Thames, including Cornwall.

I showed M'Allister this formation on our map, where it appears only a
narrow ellipse in consequence of the moon's curvature, and pointed out
how very different was its appearance now we could see over its whole
extent. Other formations nearer to the moon's limb appear still more
foreshortened when viewed from the earth.

John here remarked that "these large ring-plains covered immense areas,
and, now that we could actually see them, their magnitude was more
impressive than anything we could have imagined from merely hearing or
reading about them."

"Yes, John," I said, "from our altitude of more than ten miles above the
lunar surface we command a much more extensive view and gain a better
knowledge of details than we could obtain even if we landed on the moon.
For instance, if we could stand down in the centre of one of those very
large rings, we should imagine we were in the midst of a boundless open
plain. The mountains all around us would be so distant that, owing to
the sharp curvature of the lunar sphere, they would all be below the
horizon, notwithstanding the fact that many of them are several
thousands of feet in height. So, for all we could see of them, those
mountains might be non-existent.

"In the case of somewhat smaller rings we might perhaps see, here and
there above the horizon, just the topmost peaks of some of the more
lofty mountains."

M'Allister was now struck with an idea, and exclaimed, "Professor, I
notice that many of these great walled plains are very flat, and I
should think they would make fine golf-links, for there would be plenty
of room to send the ball flying!"

"Undoubtedly," I answered, "you would have plenty of space for that; and
I can tell you that you would be able to send the ball flying six times
as far as you could on the earth with the same expenditure of force,
because the moon's gravitation is only one-sixth of that of the earth."

"That would be grand," said M'Allister. "I should like to have a few
turns at golf on the moon."

"Ah, but you would also have extra long tramps after your ball," I told
him, "so you would get plenty of exercise; but, for the reason already
mentioned, you would be able to get over the ground six times as
easily."

"Well, Professor, I should not mind the distance in those
circumstances," he answered jauntily.

"Perhaps you like jumping exercise too," I said. "Only fancy,
M'Allister, if you wanted to jump across one of those narrower cracks!
Why, if you could jump a distance of ten feet on the earth, you could
jump sixty feet on the moon just as easily! Some of our athletes have
jumped a length of twenty-six feet, so the same persons could with equal
ease jump 156 feet on the moon! What do you think of that for a long
jump?"

"Heh, Professor," he replied, looking rather bewildered, "what a jump!
Why, I should think the mon was never coming down again!"

"I say, though, M'Allister, after all I am inclined to think you would
not find golf on the moon altogether a pleasant game," said John.

"Why not, mon?" inquired M'Allister.

"Well," answered John, "I was thinking that if you sent your ball flying
into one of those cracks which are several miles deep you would find
yourself eternally 'bunkered,' for no niblick ever made would get you
out of that."

M'Allister laughed so heartily at this idea of John's that we both
joined in his mirth; then I recommended him to wait until we reached
Mars if he wished to enjoy a game of golf, for there he would be sure to
find enormous stretches of level ground.

[Illustration: _From a coloured drawing by M. Wicks_ Plate III

CHART OF THE MOON, SHOWING THE PRINCIPAL FORMATIONS SEEN ON ITS SURFACE

The dark areas are termed seas, though there is no water on the moon.
The many small rings are ring-mountains and ring-plains. (The North Pole
is at the top.)]

[Illustration: Plate IV

INDEX MAP TO CHART OF THE MOON

 1. Bay of Rainbows

 2. Plato

 3. Sea of Cold

 4. Alps Mountains

 5. Great Alpine Valley

 6. Cassini

 7. Autolycus

 8. Aristillus

 9. Archimedes

10. Timocharis

11. Lambert

12. Euler

13. Sea of Showers

14. Aristarchus

15. Herodotus

16. Ocean of Storms

17. Copernicus

18. Apennine Mountains

19. Sea of Serenity

20. Haemus Mountains

21. Sea of Conflicts

22. Proclus

23. Sea of Tranquillity

24. Sea of Fertility

25. Hevel

26. Kepler

27. Grimaldi

28. Flamsteed

29. Bonpland

30. Gassendi

31. Sea of Vapours

32. Hipparchus

33. Albategnius

34. Ptolemaeus

35. Alphonsus

36. Arzachel

37. Theophilus

38. Cyrillus

39. Catherina

40. Sea of Nectar

41. Langrenus

42. Vendelinus

43. Petavius

44. Schickard

45. Wargentin

46. Tycho

47. Maurolycus

48. Clavius

49. Newton

50. Straight Wall

51. Sea of Moisture

52. Sea of Clouds]

Proceeding on our tour of inspection, we crossed the Ocean of Storms to
a point near the central part of the lunar surface, and I showed them
the fine walled plain called Ptolemaeus. This is 115 miles in diameter,
and contains an area as large as the combined areas of Yorkshire,
Lancashire, and Westmorland, its highest peak being 9000 feet in
altitude. It forms the most northerly of a line of walled plains, the
most southerly being Arzachel, which is sixty-six miles in diameter, and
has a very depressed floor; while one peak on the walls rises to a
height of 13,000 feet.

Passing farther west, we next examined another splendid group of three
ring-mountains, arranged in a line running nearly north and south, viz.
Theophilus, Cyrillus, and Catherina. The first is the most northerly,
and is about sixty-four miles in diameter, with several very high
peaks--one rising as much as 18,000 feet, and two on the opposite side
being 16,000 and 14,000 feet high respectively. Even the central
mountain is very large in area, and 6000 feet high. "That," I remarked
to M'Allister, "is nearly half as high again as Ben Nevis, the highest
mountain in Scotland, which is, after all, only 4400 feet high."

"Ben Nevis, Professor, is 4406 feet high!" corrected M'Allister.

"That's right, M'Allister," said John, clapping him on the back, "stick
up for bonnie Scotland, and don't let her be robbed of that six feet of
mountain!"

Proceeding, I then said that Cyrillus, the middle ring, was, as they
could see, very irregular in shape; and the walls were in some parts
very much broken and damaged.

Catherina is the largest of the three, being over seventy miles in
diameter, and its highest peak is 16,500 feet in altitude.

I should have liked to have shown them the splendid double-walled plain
called Petavius, which has a convex floor some 800 feet higher in the
centre than at the edges. We were, however, too late both for that and
Langrenus, another fine formation on the same meridian, for the sun had
set upon them and they were in darkness, so it was no use going any
farther in that direction.

We now directed our course over the Sea of Clouds till we arrived at
what is known as the "Straight Wall."

"M'Allister," I said, "that ought to interest you, for there is a
somewhat similar formation in Scotland. You see this is an escarpment,
or cliff, over sixty miles long, and varying from about 600 feet to 900
feet in height.

"This cliff is one of the best known examples on the moon of what in
geology is termed a 'fault,' indicating either that one part of the
general surface has been greatly elevated, or that the adjoining part
has been depressed. We have many examples of such 'faults' on the
earth--for instance, one runs a long way across Scotland, from
Stonehaven round to Helensburgh, between the Highlands and the Lowlands,
and is about 120 miles in length. That is about twice the length of the
Straight Wall; so you see that Scotland can beat the moon in that
respect!"

This brought M'Allister up to the scratch. "Scotland," he exclaimed
excitedly, "can hold her own in most things! Why, mon, the empire is
indebted to her for the finest statesmen, the cleverest lawyers, the
best engineers and scientists, and, allow me to say, the bravest
soldiers in the whole world! Scotsmen go everywhere, and can do
anything!"

"Oh yes, M'Allister," said John, with a laugh, "and a Scotsman has got
to the moon! but, please, do not forget that two Englishmen planned the
trip, and devised the means of accomplishing the journey!"

M'Allister smiled a rather wintry smile, and then subsided. John was a
bit too smart for him that time.

Passing on, we inspected the large cleft running parallel to the
Straight Wall, and the small mountain close by named after Birt, the
well-known selenographer. We then crossed the Sea of Clouds again, and
had a long look at the great system of straight clefts near Campanus and
Hippalus, together with the fine walled plain Gassendi, the floor of
which is at some parts 2000 feet above the lunar surface. I had often
studied this through the telescope, as it is a most interesting
formation.

"Well, Professor," remarked M'Allister, "I have travelled nearly all
over our own world, but in all my journeyings I have never seen such
wild and rugged scenery as I have during the few hours we have been
passing over the moon. The mountains seem to be split and rent in all
directions, especially where there are volcanic craters in the
neighbourhood--and, really, they seem to be everywhere; while landslips
are very numerous, and the mountain passes are extremely rugged and
gloomy."

"Yes," I replied, "my telescopic observations had prepared me for a
great deal, but the weird ruggedness of the lunar scenery exceeds all
my anticipations."

"What is the explanation of it all?" M'Allister inquired.

"I should think, M'Allister, that much of it was originally caused by
the extreme violence of volcanic outbursts," I answered; "but the
excessive expansion and contraction, resulting from the alternate spells
of intense heat and intense cold to which the moon is continually
exposed, will account for the formation of many of those tremendous
chasms and precipices which we see everywhere around us, as well as for
the huge mounds of dislodged rocks and _debris_, which are piled up in
such chaotic confusion on the ledges of the mountains and round their
bases.

"On the earth such _debris_ would very soon have become smoothed by
atmospheric erosion, the interstices would have been filled up with dust
and soil, while the growth of vegetation would have added a new charm to
the effect.

"You have seen the great landslip in the Isle of Wight! When it fell all
was wild desolation, but it has become covered with such a luxuriant
growth of vegetation that it now presents a scene of beauty.

"On the moon, however, there is neither atmosphere, rain, nor moisture
to produce weathering of the rocks or to encourage the growth of
vegetation; so the rocks remain just as sharp, rugged, and bare as they
were ages ago when they were first split off from the mountains.

"No doubt very large masses of rocks are still frequently being
dislodged, and if we could see them falling from the upper part of a
mountain, rebounding along the spurs, with fragments flying in all
directions and ultimately dashing to pieces at the base, it would seem
to us most uncanny not to hear the slightest sound arising from all this
apparent commotion. Without an atmosphere, however, no sound could be
produced, no matter how many thousands of tons of rock might fall to the
ground.

"Tremendous changes of this nature may be happening on the moon, but our
telescopes are not powerful enough to enable us to see the results. They
would have to cover an area of miles to be noticeable, unless they
presented some particularly striking configuration."

"Professor," exclaimed M'Allister, "how is it that all the shadows on
the moon are such a dense black and so sharply defined at the edges?"

"That," I exclaimed, "is entirely owing to the absence of the
atmosphere. On the earth, even at night time, some light is diffused by
our atmosphere, and shadows are never dense black even when thrown by a
bright sun. On the moon it is black darkness everywhere outside the
direct rays of the sun, and there is no gradual diminution of the
darkness about the edges of shadows such as we see on the earth. The
only mitigation of the blackness is seen where some light is reflected
across from the rocky walls on which the sun is shining.

"In those deep recesses down at the bases of the mountains the cold must
be most intense and the darkness truly awful. It all looks very nice
when the sun is shining, but appearances are often deceptive, and do not
improve on a closer acquaintance."

We could not have landed upon the moon if we had desired to do so, for
no provision had been made for a supply of air by means of helmets and
other apparatus. I kept my own counsel in this matter, as I had very
good reasons for discountenancing any proposal to investigate the lunar
scenery too closely.

By a curious coincidence, not long after this conversation we had ocular
demonstration of the fact that the moon is liable to changes from other
agencies than those of expansion and contraction.

We were looking at some distant mountains which were in the full
sunshine. Suddenly a dark shadowy looking mass shot across the sky and
struck one of the mountain peaks some distance down from the top. The
peak seemed to be immediately demolished, and vanished from our sight!

M'Allister gazed spellbound; but John excitedly exclaimed: "Did you see
that, Professor? One moment the peak was there, and the next moment it
was gone!"

"Yes," I said. "Undoubtedly that dark shadow was a large meteoric stone.
Many have fallen on our earth at various times, some being tons in
weight. Usually, however, they are so small that on entering our
atmosphere they become fused by the friction and changed to dust. Larger
ones are partially fused, and often split into fragments in the upper
air. The moon, having no atmosphere, is quite unprotected in this
respect; and meteorites moving at enormous speeds, probably over forty
miles in a second, travel unchecked and unaltered in character until
they strike the lunar surface. It is estimated that immense numbers
constantly enter our atmosphere and are destroyed; but the moon must be
continually exposed to bombardment by meteorites of considerable size.

"Many of our ships have been lost at sea in calm weather, and their fate
has remained a profound mystery; but it is not at all improbable that
some of them have been destroyed by large meteorites, for several
instances are recorded of ships having very narrow escapes from these
dangerous missiles from outer space."

Passing on towards the south-west, we had a long look at the magnificent
formation named Tycho. It is a ring-plain nearly fifty-six miles in
diameter, the mountain walls having some peaks over 17,000 feet in
height. I drew their attention to the long bright ray-streaks which
radiate in all directions for many hundreds of miles from the
neighbourhood of this formation, to which I alluded when we had been
looking at the rays from Proclus. Tycho and these bright streaks can be
seen from the earth when the moon is full without the aid of a
telescope, if one possesses good eyesight.

An enormous number of ring-plains and ring-mountains exists all over the
southern half of the moon's disc; in many cases there are rings within
rings, and others where they have overlapped or cut into previously
formed rings.

Moving almost due south, we passed the large but partially ruined walled
plain known as Maginus. This ring has a floor which is no less than
14,000 feet below the lunar surface. We then arrived at that favourite
object for telescopic observers which is named Clavius. This is an
enormous ring-plain, being over 142 miles in diameter, and encloses an
area of 16,000 square miles, thus being half the area of Scotland. It
has a very depressed floor, and some of the mountains are 16,000 to
17,000 feet in altitude.

Farther on, and close to the south pole, we saw the very deepest of the
lunar walled plains, which is named after Newton, who possessed probably
the deepest intellect of any of our astronomers. A smaller formation
south of Plato was originally named after him, but was not considered
worthy of a man of his scientific eminence, so the name was transferred
to the formation we were looking upon. It is about 143 miles long and
very irregular in shape, and its depth is about 24,000 feet--so deep, in
fact, that the sun's light never reaches to the bottom; thus, when we
look at it from the earth, the floor is always in shadow.

The Leibnitz Mountains, unfortunately, were not visible, as the sun had
set upon them. I, however, mentioned that this range comprises several
peaks which are believed to be the highest on the lunar surface,
reaching as they do an altitude of 30,000 feet, and, according to some
measurements, 40,000 feet. They are very difficult to measure, owing to
the fact that they are really situated on the farther side of the moon,
extending east and west of the south pole, and are only occasionally
brought into view by the moon's libration; even then they are seen in
profile, and so situated that they cannot be measured with certainty.
They are, however, so high that they blunt the southern cusp of the moon
when it is in crescent form.

I now directed M'Allister to turn the vessel in a north-easterly
direction, and we moved across to the last objects which I proposed to
examine. One was the large walled plain "Schickard"--about 135 miles in
diameter--which encloses several other rings; the other, which lies to
the south-east of it and close to the moon's south-eastern limb, is
probably the most unique object on the lunar surface. As we gazed upon
it I explained that the formation, which is known as "Wargentin," would
probably in the usual course of events have been a ring-plain about
fifty-four miles in diameter, but it really is a high plateau of that
size, with very low ramparts. It is evidently a ring-plain which became
filled to the brim with lava, or mud, that welled up from the interior
of the moon; and the mountain walls, being exceptionally strong and
without any breaks or gaps, withstood the enormous pressure of the lava,
which therefore solidified and formed the great plateau as we now see
it. The low ramparts, which we noticed here and there, are really the
isolated peaks and ridges of the mountains forming the walls. This is
the only known instance of such a formation; but probably others would
exist had not the walls of the rings given way under the pressure of the
lava. The walls of several ring-plains have been quite carried away,
and, in some cases so obliterated, that it is now difficult to make out
the original shape of the rings.

Having taken a last look at this unique object, I directed M'Allister to
set the machinery in motion and rise for the purpose of quitting the
moon.

"But," interposed John, "are you not going to have a look at the back of
the moon, Professor?"

"No, John," I answered, "only a small portion of it is now in the
sunlight, the rest is in the blackest darkness, so we should not be
likely to learn much more about it than we know at present."

"Do you think the moon is inhabited?" he then asked.

"No, I do not think it is; no sign of life has ever been discovered, and
we have seen nothing to indicate its existence here. The prevailing
conditions seem to preclude the possibility. Think, John, if there is
any life, what must it be! Without any atmosphere--therefore, not a
sound to be heard, for all would ever be in the most deathly silence--no
breath of wind; never a cloud nor a drop of refreshing rain, nor even
dew; intense heat in the sunlight and the most intense cold everywhere
in the shade! If any life does exist, it is most probably down in those
gloomy, dark and cold recesses at the bottom of the ring-mountains,
where there may possibly be some remains of an atmosphere. It would,
however, be life in such a dreadful and debased form that I would rather
not think about it at all.

"For a somewhat similar reason, I have directed M'Allister to keep the
_Areonal_ at least ten miles above the lunar surface all the time we
have been passing over it. When we saw it from a distance it was, as you
know, an object of surpassing beauty; and as we have seen it from here
it has still been pleasant to look upon. This is truly a case where
distance lends enchantment to the view; for, if we went down close to
the surface, we should find it a scene of the weirdest and wildest
desolation--more horrible than anything seen during a nightmare, and
more terrible than anything imagined by the insane!

"No, John," I concluded, "let us retain our memory of the moon as a
thing of beauty, and leave it at that."

"I quite agree with your view of the matter, Professor," John replied;
so I gave the signal to M'Allister, who was awaiting the result of our
discussion, and we soon left the moon far below us.




CHAPTER VII

WE RESUME OUR VOYAGE--THE SUN AND THE SKY AS SEEN FROM SPACE


All the time the _Areonal_ had been near the moon some of our machines
were storing up fresh power, and we had accumulated a supply amply
sufficient to meet any extra requirements in the event of our arrival
upon Mars being unduly delayed.

We now turned and looked back at the earth; and, as the moon was so near
to it at that time, the earth's disc appeared very nearly two degrees in
diameter, or nearly four times the usual apparent diameter of the full
moon as seen from the earth. The crescent of light on its right-hand
side was rather wider than when we last looked at it; but so many clouds
hung over it, that we could not see what countries were comprised in the
lighted portion of its surface. Owing to the light of the stars behind
the earth being diffused by the dense atmosphere--in the same way as it
would be diffused by a large lens--there was a ring of brilliant light
like a halo all round the earth's disc.

Having passed away from the moon, I now gave M'Allister the necessary
directions in order to keep the _Areonal_ on a course which would enable
us to head off the planet Mars at, as near as I could reckon, the point
it would reach in fifty days' time. The course having been set,
M'Allister was free to join us again, as the machinery required very
little attention.

When he did so, M'Allister at once asked me a question. "Professor, can
you tell me when it's going to be daylight? The sun has been shining for
hours and hours, yet it's still night; the sky is blacker than the
blackest night I ever saw, and the stars are all out!"

John laughed heartily, and said, "M'Allister, this is daylight! and all
the daylight you will get until we reach Mars."

M'Allister turned to me with a perplexed look on his face and asked, "Is
that right, Professor, or is he trying to pull my leg, as he said he
would?"

"Oh yes! It's quite right, M'Allister," I replied. "It is now full
daylight, and we shall have no more night until we reach Mars. That, as
you know, will be seven weeks from the present time."

"Well, Professor," he exclaimed, "then how is it the sky is so densely
black and the stars all shining so brightly? I never saw the stars in
the daytime before, yet these are shining brighter than they do on the
earth at night."

"Simply," I said, "because upon the earth we were surrounded by a dense
atmosphere, which so diffused the sun's light that the whole sky
appeared bright. The stars were there all the time, but their light was
so overpowered by the brilliancy of the atmosphere that they were quite
invisible to us.

"Now, we are out in space where there is no atmosphere at all, so the
sky appears a very dense black; and the stars, having nothing to obscure
their light, shine out more brilliantly than they do on the earth. They
appear as bright points of light, and even the sun does not shed a
general light over the sky, there being no atmosphere to diffuse it."

"Yes," he persisted, "but you said we should have no more night until we
got to Mars!"

"Certainly," I answered. "Surely, M'Allister, you must have forgotten
that night is brought about by the earth's rotation on its axis, and
that the part which is turned away from the sun is in darkness because
its light is hidden by the solid body of the earth, while the earth's
shadow darkens all the sky. When, by the earth's rotation, that part is
again turned to the sun then it becomes daylight. Remember we are not
now on the earth, but out in space!"

"Of course I did know all that, Professor," he exclaimed, "but, just for
the time, I had forgotten."

"Never mind, M'Allister, we all forget such matters sometimes, and this
is quite a new experience for you. But just take a good look at the
sun--have you noticed any difference in its appearance?"

"Yes, Professor, it doesn't look the same colour as when we saw it from
the earth; it seems to have a violet tinge, like some of the electric
lights in our streets. There are also long streamers of light around it,
and coloured fringes close to the sun!"

"Yes, that is so," I said; "and we can see all those things now because
there is no atmosphere. No doubt you have noticed that on the earth the
sun appeared red when low down in the sky, and during a fog it appeared
redder and duskier still."

"Oh yes, I've often noticed that," he answered.

"That was caused by our atmosphere which, when thick, absorbs all but
the red rays of light. On a clear day the sun appears an extremely pale
yellow, or very nearly white; still the atmosphere absorbs some of the
light rays, so we cannot see its true colour as we do now. Those
coloured fringes round the edges can only be seen from the earth by the
aid of a special instrument, and then they do not show all their true
colours.

"That pearly light all round the sun, and the long streamers that give
it the appearance of an enormous star with six long points, form what is
termed the solar corona, and this can only be seen from our earth during
the very few minutes when an eclipse of the sun is at its totality. It
is to see the corona and other surroundings of the sun, in order to
study them, that astronomers go such very long distances--often
thousands of miles--when there is a total eclipse expected, and not
merely to see the eclipse itself. They hope, in time, to learn much from
such observations; but if it happens that the sky is over-clouded during
the period of total eclipse, then all their expense, and the time spent
in preparations and rehearsals of their procedure, are, unfortunately,
entirely wasted.

"Now, M'Allister, if you will take my glass you will be able to look at
the sun and examine it without any risk to your eyesight, for it is
provided with a dark glass to shut out all the dangerous glare. You will
then see what the fringes and inner and outer coronas really are like."

He took the glass and looked for a long time at the sun, and, judging
from his exclamations of surprise and astonishment, he was extremely
interested and delighted with what he saw. John was also examining it at
the same time through his own glass.

Presently the latter turned to me saying, "Professor, I no longer
wonder that astronomers are prepared to travel long distances, and to
risk a great deal of discomfort, and even hardship, in order to view and
study the sun's surroundings. Of course to them it is not merely a sight
to be seen, but the only means by which they can acquire a knowledge of
solar physics. Merely as a sight, however, it is most wonderful. At many
places all round the edge of the sun's disc I can see what look like
coloured flames--pink, pea-green, carmine, orange, or yellow, all in
incessant movement--shooting out at times, or waving and shimmering in a
manner that is indescribable. The changes in form and colour are as
sudden, yet as definite, as the changes produced by turning a
kaleidoscope; while the intermingling of the various colours frequently
produces an effect which I can only compare to the iridescent colours on
mother o' pearl. Then all around and beyond the coloured fringe there is
the light of the pearly inner corona; beyond that are pearly and
violet-tinged rays curling away in both directions from the poles,
whilst outside all are the long, pearly, and violet-tinted streamers
which assume the shape of a large many-pointed star; and even these do
not seem at rest. Though astronomers cannot see all that we do now,
there must be sufficient visible to them to afford opportunity for a
most interesting study."

"That is indeed the case, John," I replied. "Those coloured flames, for
instance, form a study in themselves, which some observers make their
particular hobby. As seen from the earth, they all appear some tint of
red; and, normally, according to measurements, they seem to extend a
distance of some 20,000 miles above the sun. They shift their position
very rapidly indeed; movements at the rate of 100 miles a second are
quite moderate compared with some which have been noted, yet one can
scarcely realise such rapidity of motion. Frequently, however, these
flames are seen to rise in immense masses to tremendous heights above
the sun's surface, evidently driven upwards by explosions of the most
intense energy. In 1888, for instance, one was observed which, in the
course of two hours, rose to a height of 350,000 miles before it broke
up; that is, at the rate of 50 miles a second all the time; but, as the
force would become less and less as the distance increased, at the
earlier part of the time the movement must have been far more rapid.
When the impetus derived from the explosive force is quite exhausted,
the top part of the mass of flame often spreads out like the top of a
tree, then breaks up and falls back into the sun in large flakes of
flame.

"It is supposed that these violent explosions are the cause of the spots
we so often see on the sun when observing it with our telescopes; and,
when looking at them in their earliest stage, we are probably looking at
a mass of flame _end on_, instead of seeing it in profile, as is the
case when the explosion occurs near the edge of the disc. The flames, as
examined by the spectroscope, appear to be largely composed of hydrogen
gas; and no doubt many other gases--some quite unknown to us--enter into
their composition. They are termed flames, but are more probably immense
volumes of incandescent gases. The corona itself is never seen twice
alike; its shape and size vary at every eclipse, but the variation runs
in a regular cycle from maximum to minimum.

"You will also observe that all around the corona, and extending a vast
distance beyond it on both sides, is a fainter pearly light. This is
what is termed the zodiacal light, and is believed to be the thinner
portion of the sun's atmosphere. We can see it from the earth
occasionally after the sun has set, extending far up into the sky in the
form of a semi-ellipse, the base of which is over the place where the
sun is."

M'Allister here asked me to tell him "What was supposed to be the actual
size of our sun, and how far it was away from the earth?"

I answered that "The sun is about 865,000 miles in diameter; and that he
would have some idea of what an immense body it is if he remembered that
it would require 64,000,000 globes the size of the moon to make one
globe the size of the sun! Yet, notwithstanding this immense size, our
sun is quite a small body as compared with some of the fixed stars,
which, as perhaps you may know, are really suns at an inconceivable
distance from us. The bright star Sirius, which is visible during our
winter time, is not only very much brighter in reality than our sun, but
must be many times larger; and there are others known to be very much
larger than Sirius. It has been computed that Arcturus is in mass
500,000 times as large as our sun!

"The sun revolves on its axis in a little over twenty-five days, but the
exact period of its revolution is difficult to determine. The mean
distance of the sun from the earth is about 92,800,000 miles. When we
are farthest from it its distance is 94,600,000 miles, and when nearest,
91,000,000 miles--these differences, of course, arising from the
eccentricity of the earth's orbit.

"The sun's density is only about one-fifth of the earth's density; so it
is evidently mainly gaseous--at all events in the outer envelopes.

"The spots upon the sun often cover such an immense area, that if our
earth were dropped into the cavity, it would be like placing a pea in a
teacup! Some of the spots entirely close up in a short time, but others
last for weeks."

We now turned from the sun and looked at the stars. Such a multitude
were visible as we had never seen from the earth; for small stars, which
there required a telescope to bring them into view, could now be plainly
seen without any such aid, and their various colours were seen much more
clearly. They all shone with a clear and steady light; the twinkling and
scintillation of the stars, as seen from the earth, being caused by the
vibrations and movements in our own atmosphere. We also saw many nebulae
without using a glass.

The Milky Way was a most gorgeous spectacle, and its beauty utterly
beyond description, as such an immense number of its component stars,
and their different colours, were visible to the unaided eye; besides,
we could trace wisps and branches of it to regions of the sky far beyond
the limits within which it is seen from the earth.

We noted that the planets were also much more clearly seen; and the
orange-red disc of Mars, of course, received our particular attention.

We had spent very many hours in viewing the moon, and a long time in
examining the sun and stars; so we now sat down to a hearty meal, and,
after a short time spent in conversation, we made our arrangements for
taking turns in attending to the machinery, and then retired to bed.

[Illustration: _DIAGRAM: showing the Positions and Movements of the
Planets between the 3rd of August and the 24th of September, 1909: and
the Course taken by the "Areonal" on the Voyage to Mars._

_The dotted line joining the Earth to Mars shows the course taken._


_The dotted Circles show the Orbits of the Planets. The thick arrows
show the distances travelled by the respective planets during the period
covered by the Voyage: the line at the back end of the Arrow being the
planet's position on the 3rd August, and the points of the Arrows the
position reached on the 24th September._

_The Orbits of Mercury, Venus, the Earth and Mars are drawn
approximately to scale, but those of the outer planets are not. On the
same scale, the radii of the Orbits of the outer Planets would,
approximately, be as stated below. These figures will afford some idea
of the enormous distances separating those planets._

  _Jupiter_   _3_    _Inches_
  _Saturn_    _5-3/8_  "
  _Uranus_   _10-7/8_  "
  _Neptune_  _17_      "

_Drawn by M. Wicks_

Plate V]




CHAPTER VIII

JOHN INSISTS ON GOING BACK AGAIN--A STRANGE, BUT AMUSING INCIDENT OCCURS


When we rose the next day the moon was a considerable distance away from
us, but not so far off as might at first be imagined if one only
considered the speed at which we were travelling; for, although moving
at our full speed, the earth was following us up pretty closely, as the
curve of its orbit would, for several days, run nearly in the same
direction as we were going. Still, 2,000,000 miles a day was sufficient
to make a diminution in the apparent sizes of the sun and Venus; and
there was a gradual increase in the size of the planets, Mars and
Saturn, towards which we were moving. As regards the fixed stars,
however, there was no change in our surroundings, as they are such an
immense distance away--the nearest being, at least, twenty billions of
miles from the earth, that a few million miles more or less make no
difference in their apparent size, or in their positions in regard to
each other in the constellations as we know them in our maps.

As we were now fairly on our way, and moving rapidly in the direction we
wished to travel, I thought it quite time to put into operation a scheme
which John and I had previously decided upon, so I told M'Allister that
he must be prepared to take a little change of air.

"Why, Professor," he exclaimed, "that sounds almost like a proposal for
going to the seaside!"

"We certainly are not going there," I replied, "for we are rapidly
moving away from all seaside resorts, and you are not likely to visit
any of those places for a very long time to come."

"Well, mon, where are we going to get our change of air then?" he
inquired; "you know there's no air at all outside of this vessel."

"Quite true," I answered; "so we must get our change of air inside the
vessel."

"Yes," interposed John, "and, Kenneth M'Allister, you will have to make
up your mind to have rather short commons of it; the same as we shall!"

"Whatever do you mean?" he inquired, now appearing really scared--for a
dreadful thought had crossed his mind. "Mon, you surely do not mean that
our machinery is giving out!"

"Oh no! not at all, M'Allister," I replied; "but perhaps I had better
give you a full explanation of the matter:--

"You know we are bound for the planet Mars, where the air is very much
thinner than that which we have been accustomed to breathe, and very
probably it is composed of somewhat different constituents. In these
circumstances you will understand that, if we landed upon Mars without
having taken proper precautions, such thin air might make us very ill,
even if it did not kill us.

"That little compartment next the store-room was arranged and fitted up
for the special purpose of supplying a thin air in which we could
prepare ourselves for the atmosphere of the red planet. So we are really
going into training. The machines in that room will generate an
attenuated atmosphere somewhat similar to our own, and this will be
automatically mixed in a cylinder with a little oxygen and nitrous oxide
gas, so as to make it as near as possible like what we expect to find
upon Mars. When we commence it will be only slightly different from our
own air; then gradually we shall reduce its density and change its
quality until it is as thin as we shall require. Each of us must spend
about eight hours a day in that little compartment, though it will not
be necessary to take the eight hours continuously, for we may spend a
few intervals in the other rooms.

"John and I will take general charge of the machinery in that room, and
he will also look after your machines whilst you are with me in our
Martian air-chamber. In addition to these arrangements, we have prepared
a concentrated air of the same kind which we can carry about with us in
bottles, so that by simply opening a little valve in the bottle we can
inhale some of the air now and then when we are in the other rooms. By
adopting this plan, I hope when we reach Mars we shall all have become
so acclimatised that we shall be able to breathe the Martian air without
much inconvenience."

"Heh, Professor," said M'Allister, "what a mon you are for planning
things out; I would never have thought of that!"

"John had quite as much to do with the planning out as I had," I
replied; "and as you now understand what we propose to do, we will at
once commence our training, but we shall not feel much difference in the
air for the next day or two."

We accordingly put our plan into operation, each of us making up at
least eight hours' time every day in the Martian air-chamber, with the
result that we gradually became accustomed to the thinner air, and could
breathe it without any feeling of inconvenience.

As the days went on I began to notice that John was becoming very
irritable; and so was I, though to a lesser extent. The closer
confinement to one room was evidently beginning to tell upon us, and day
by day the effects were more apparent on both of us, especially in the
case of John; but, strangely enough, whilst we were becoming more
depressed and irritable, M'Allister's spirits seemed to be rising every
day!

It has often been remarked that if two or three people are shut up
together for a considerable time, with no other companionship or change,
sooner or later they are bound to fall out with each other.

Up to the present we had all agreed splendidly, but now John's
irritability seemed to increase hourly; and as regards myself, I often
found it necessary to exercise very great self-control to avoid giving
very sharp and snappish answers to John's peevish and querulous remarks.

But the inevitable explosion came at last, and, like all explosions, was
very sudden and unexpected when it did happen.

All the morning of the 2nd of September John had been wandering in and
out of the various rooms, and frowning as though very displeased about
something. I gave him a hint or two that he ought to put in more time
with me in the air-chamber, but he took no notice of my suggestions.
Presently, whilst I was in there alone, he came through, but, without
speaking to me, went on into the store-room; and I heard him in there
opening and shutting the lockers and cupboards, generally closing the
doors with a loud bang, as persons do when in a very bad temper.

These bangs became more frequent and more violent, and at last succeeded
each other with such rapidity that it seemed almost as though a vigorous
cannonade were in progress.

I was wondering what could be the meaning of all this commotion, when
suddenly the door opened, and John rushed into the room looking very
cross indeed.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he cried, "though it's no use saying so; but we
must go back to England again at once!"

"Good gracious, John!" I exclaimed, "what do you mean, and whatever has
happened to upset you so and cause you to change your mind in this
extraordinary way?"

"The deluge has happened," he replied, very crossly. "Professor, _I've
left all my stock of tobacco behind_!"

"Never, John," I replied. "Why, you packed it up yourself; and I
remember that when we overhauled the stores on our departure I saw the
large tin of tobacco in your cupboard."

"I thought I packed it up," he answered, "but it's nowhere to be found
now. As my tobacco supply had nearly run out I went to the cupboard this
morning to get some more, and took down the big tin of twenty-six pounds
labelled 'Tobacco.' I opened it, and what do you think it contained? You
would never guess--well, it was tapioca!

"I've looked everywhere I can think of, without finding a trace of the
weed."

Just then M'Allister came into the room, and, noticing John's vicious
frown and my troubled look, asked what was wrong. We told him the news,
but he only laughed, and, turning to John, exclaimed, "Heh, John, don't
fash yourself about the tobacco, mon; we'll find you a substitute.
There's more kinds than one."

"Substitute, indeed!" said John snappishly, "no substitutes for me!"

"Well, John," I interposed, "you can have as much of my tobacco as you
like; it's a good brand, you know, and I shall not mind a shorter
allowance, for it does not mean much to me."

"No," he exclaimed sharply, "I can't take yours, Professor; it's your
own special brand!"

"Well, John," said M'Allister, "you're as welcome to mine as if it were
your own, and it's fine strong stuff too. And you can have some of my
Navy plug as well," he added with a grin; "you'll find it rare good
chewing."

"I simply cannot take the Professor's tobacco," said John; then, angrily
turning upon poor M'Allister, he cried, "And as for your filthy stuff,
it's a downright insult to offer it to me!"

"John! John!" I implored, "do be reasonable; it's not at all like you to
talk in this rude way, and you must know we really cannot go back now!"

"Reasonable!" he sneered. "Do you call it reasonable, Professor, to ask
a man who is a lover of his pipe to go all the way to Mars and stay
there for months without any tobacco!"

"Well, you will not accept mine, although you know perfectly well that
you are heartily welcome to it. It's not your own particular brand, it
is true, but it is a real good one. However, most likely you will find
some on Mars; there's plenty of vegetation on that planet, without a
doubt."

"Vegetation be hanged!" he angrily exclaimed. "What am I to do in the
meantime? As for tobacco growing upon Mars--why, sir, I'd bet my bottom
dollar that, outside our own world, there's no place in the whole
universe where anything equal to my superb mixture can be produced. It's
no use talking, Professor; as I said before, we must go back."

"We cannot go back," I replied sternly, for by this time I was becoming
very irritated at his obstinacy. "The idea of going back so many million
miles merely to fetch tobacco! Remember, we have travelled at least
57,000,000 miles on the way to our destination!"

John strode up and down, becoming more and more excited every minute,
and was soon quite raging; yet it seemed most singular that the more
John raged the more M'Allister laughed. I looked from one to the other
in amazement and the most utter perplexity at this extraordinary change
in their behaviour. Then all at once I saw a gleam of light, so to
speak, and the solution of the mystery became clear to me.

The air we had so long been breathing when in the air-chamber, and when
we made use of our air-bottles, was very similar to what is popularly
known as "laughing-gas"; and undoubtedly we were all more or less
experiencing the cumulative effects of the constant mild doses we had
inhaled. Laughing-gas acts in a different manner upon persons of
different temperaments: some will keep laughing, moderately or
immoderately; others will become irritable, angry, or even pugnacious;
whilst others again will weep copiously.

M'Allister was now talking rapidly and quietly to himself, laughing all
the while, his eyes shining and twinkling merrily as though something
intensely amusing were being enacted.

This seemed to react upon John, who apparently was irritated beyond
control, and presently he roared out, "Kenneth M'Allister, stop that
infernal grinning and chattering like a monkey! Stop it, I say! stop it
directly!" But M'Allister took no notice and laughed louder than ever.

"Why, you confounded baboon," shouted John, "you're worse than any
laughing hyena! Stop it, stop it at once, or I shall do you some
mischief!" And he advanced towards M'Allister in such a menacing
attitude that I had to rush between them to keep them apart.

He was now raging up and down the room, looking as angry as a hungry
lion which has just had a long expected dinner suddenly snatched away
from it; but the worse he became the louder M'Allister shrieked with
laughter. The latter was now simply rolling about the room--for it could
not be termed walking, it was so erratic--holding his sides and
laughing, whilst the tears were chasing each other down his cheeks. He
kept trying to speak, but had no sooner stuttered out the words, "Heh,
mon! heh, mon!" than he was off again into another wild paroxysm of
laughter, and was rapidly becoming exhausted.

Things were really becoming very serious indeed, and I saw that
something must be done at once to put an end to this disturbance. So,
going over to M'Allister, I took him gently by the shoulders and pushed
him out of the room, saying quietly, "Go to your own room at once; but
for goodness' sake don't touch the machinery until the air has had time
to put you right again. Leave me to deal with John." He rolled off
through the doorway, still laughing "fit to split" as people say.

Returning to John, I tried to calm him down; but it proved a long and
difficult task, though at last I succeeded in persuading him to go with
me into our living-room and sit down quietly.

After sitting there some time, puffing away at his pipe, the fresher air
began to have its effect; and soon I judged that he was calm enough to
talk the matter over and discuss the situation more reasonably.

Then I said: "John, my dear fellow, please listen to me. You know we
have now travelled quite 57,000,000 miles on our journey, and that all
our arrangements have been made with a view to reaching Mars not later
than the 24th of September, because it will then be at the point where
it is in opposition to the sun as seen from the earth. It is merely a
sentimental reason so far as the opposition is concerned, but there are
substantial reasons for not delaying our arrival.

"You say we must go back, but please consider all that such a course
must involve. Though the earth has been following us up pretty closely
on a slightly different course it is at the present about 13,000,000
miles away from us. You will see it out there on our left hand towards
the rear of the _Areonal_; but we cannot go direct across to where it is
now, for by the time we reached that point the earth would have gone
ahead several million miles. Our only course is to head it off, and,
taking the shortest line, that means a journey of over 12,000,000 miles.
Therefore, we cannot reach England until the 8th of September at the
earliest, and as we shall require at least a week to lay in fresh
stores, it will be the 15th before we can start again.

"Starting on the 15th September we should have to travel at least
54,000,000 miles before we could catch up Mars, and as that will take
twenty-eight days, we could not arrive there before the 13th of October.
(See the chart.)

"Thus, we must sacrifice our chance of being upon Mars on the date of
opposition, and also the opportunity of catching the first glimpse of
our earth a few days later. If we continue our journey now and reach
Mars on the 24th of September the earth will then be only 37,000,000
miles away; but by the 13th October it will be over 40,000,000 miles
distant. There is the further objection that to get back again in
reasonable time we must leave Mars by the 1st of December, and the loss
of three weeks' time will deprive us of many opportunities of learning
what there is to be found on the planet.

"Now, John, like a good fellow, just think over the matter quietly and
reasonably; you will then realise that it is quite impossible to
interrupt our journey and return to England as you suggest."

"I have thought it all out again and again," he replied, "and can only
repeat, Professor, that it is quite impossible for me to go on minus my
tobacco!"

"Was there ever such an obstinate and unreasonable man!" I thought to
myself. "What can I do to put an end to this absurd difficulty?"

[Illustration: _DIAGRAM showing the relative positions of the Earth and
Mars at the various Oppositions of Mars, from 1892 to 1924._

_Past Oppositions are shewn by the firm lines with the dates outside the
Orbit of Mars. Coming Oppositions are indicated by the dotted lines with
the dates inside the Orbit._

_The distance between any two consecutive Oppositions represents the
distance in excess of one complete revolution in its orbit passed over
by the planet since the last preceding Opposition. These distances are
greater on the left hand side because of the planet then being nearer
the Sun and consequently travelling more rapidly._

_Drawn by M. Wicks._

Plate VI]

Resuming the conversation, and keeping as calm as I could in the
circumstances, I placed the matter before him in all its aspects, and
after we had been talking together for a long time, he seemed to be able
to take a more reasonable view of the position. In order that something
might be done to keep his mind from dwelling upon his proposal to return
to England, I suggested that we should go to the store-room and
thoroughly overhaul it.

He agreed to this, accompanying me to the store-room and pointing out
the different places he had searched. The tins were in several sizes,
but all were made square in order that not an inch of the available
space might be wasted. We looked into a large number of tins which had
not previously been examined, but without finding what we wanted.

At last a thought occurred to me, and I said: "You tell me, John, that
you are quite certain you put up the tobacco and labelled the tin
yourself, yet the tin so labelled was found to contain tapioca! Do you
remember where the tapioca was stowed away?"

He pondered awhile, with his chin resting upon his fingers, then
suddenly replied, "Yes, I think I know where it is," and, taking me over
to another cupboard at the far end of the room, we made a further search
and at last found the tapioca tin, opened it, and lo, there was the
missing tobacco!

"Well, I'm blest!" said John, very slowly drawing out the words; then
all his ill-humour suddenly vanished, and he burst into a most hearty
laugh, in which I joined. Our laughter, indeed, was so mutually
contagious, and so often renewed, that we had to sit down to finish it
and recover ourselves.

Then John remarked, "Now, Professor, I think I can explain it all. You
see I prepared and labelled those confounded tins before loading them
up; so I suppose that when stowing away the parcels of tobacco I just
glanced at the label on the tin and saw the letter T followed by the
right number of other letters, and, taking it for granted that it was
the tobacco tin, placed the tobacco in it. The only other tin left to
pack was the one I supposed to be labelled 'Tapioca,' and no doubt,
without troubling to look at the label at all, I put the tapioca into
it; but, of course, it must really have been the tin labelled
'Tobacco.'"

Thus the matter was satisfactorily cleared up. John, having found his
beloved weed and recovered from the effects of our patent Martian air,
was now quite himself again, seeming very contrite, and apologising
repeatedly for his rude conduct.

"That's enough, John," I said, as I laid my hand on his arm; "it is
quite clear that what you did was mainly the result of the peculiar air
you had been breathing, so I cannot blame you much. If I had not taken
so many intervals in the purer air, I might perhaps have been equally
affected; as it was, my temper was none of the sweetest."

M'Allister had also quite recovered by this time, and bore no ill-will
towards John; indeed, I doubt whether he had any very clear recollection
of what had occurred.

So that ended the matter; and this little explosion having cleared the
air, we all settled down to our old amicable relationship. We, however,
took the precaution of reducing the amount of nitrous-oxide gas in our
mixture of air, with a view to preventing any similar untoward results
in future.




CHAPTER IX

A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DESTRUCTION--I GIVE SOME PARTICULARS ABOUT MARS AND
MARTIAN DISCOVERY


Things now went on quietly and, in fact, rather monotonously for several
days; and then we met with another rather startling experience.

We were all sitting together in our living-room on the 9th of September,
whiling away the time in a game of whist, and, as it was the final
rubber and we were running very close together, we were quite absorbed
in the play; although, of course, it was a dummy game.

Suddenly we heard a most tremendous crash, apparently from the
right-hand side of the air-chamber, the vessel giving a violent lurch
sideways, then shivering and trembling from end to end. The crash was
immediately followed by a sharp rattling on the top and side of the
_Areonal_, just as though a fusillade of good-sized bullets had been
fired at us.

"My word! whatever's that?--one of the cylinders must have exploded,"
cried M'Allister, jumping up in alarm and running into the air-chamber.
We followed him, and looked all round the room at the different machines
and apparatus, but could find nothing wrong.

John, chancing to look up, however, at once noticed a large bulge on
the inner shell of the vessel, high up on the right-hand side; and then,
turning to me, pointed it out, saying, "I think, Professor, it is pretty
clear now what has happened."

"Yes, that huge bulge explains itself," I replied; "undoubtedly a
fair-sized meteoric stone has collided with our vessel. It is very
fortunate that the stone was not much larger, or there would have been
an end to the _Areonal_ and to us as well. These meteorites travel at
such tremendous speed that, on entering the earth's atmosphere, they
become incandescent owing to the friction of the air, and, unless very
large, are entirely consumed and dissipated into dust before they can
reach the earth. Those that do fall are always partially fused on the
outside by the tremendous heat generated by the friction of our
atmosphere. These meteorites are what people call 'shooting stars,' and
many are under the impression that they really are stars, until the
difference is explained to them."

John said, "We ought to congratulate ourselves upon such a lucky escape
from annihilation; for had our vessel been constructed of any metal less
hard and tough than our 'martalium,' and without a double and packed
shell, it must have been wrecked and entirely destroyed by the shock of
the tremendous concussion it had sustained. Even the very metal of the
casing might have been completely melted by the intense heat generated
by the impact of the meteorite."

"Heh, mon!" exclaimed M'Allister; "it's all very well talking about our
lucky escape, and putting it all down to your own cleverness in
designing and constructing the _Areonal_; but you should rather give
thanks to Providence for saving us, and for enabling you to take the
precautions you did. I say, 'Thank God!'" he remarked, and he solemnly
raised his right hand as he spoke.

"Quite right, M'Allister," replied John: "we are all too prone to credit
ourselves with more than we are entitled to. At the same time,
M'Allister, you must remember that we Englishmen recognise as fully as
you do the over-ruling power of Providence, although we may not be quite
so free in speaking about it in ordinary conversation."

"Yes," I added, "you may be quite sure, M'Allister, that we are equally
as grateful as yourself for the mercy which has preserved us all from an
awful death. My very first thought on realising our extremely narrow
escape from destruction was to say 'Thank God!' but I did not say it
aloud as you did. It is in matters like these that people differ
according to their temperament and training; and it is not safe to judge
another because, in any particular circumstances, he does not act in
precisely the same way as we ourselves would."

Thus we travelled on and on, each day bringing us more than two million
miles nearer to our destination. Mars was apparently increasing in
diameter the nearer we drew to it, and the dark blue line around the
south polar snow-cap, indicating the lake of water from the melting
snow, was very conspicuous. The snow-cap had recently decreased rapidly,
being now near its minimum and irregular in shape, for in the southern
hemisphere it was now late in June. Pointing to the planet, I remarked,
"There is our destination! We see it now as the poet pictured it for us,
and the words of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes are very appropriate to the
present circumstances:

  'The snow that glittered on the disc of Mars
  Has melted, and the planet's fiery orb
  Rolls in the crimson summer of its year!'"

On the 18th of September we passed between the earth and Mars, nearly in
a line with the sun. On that date Mars was in perigee, or at its nearest
point to the earth during the present year. Its distance from the earth
was then 36,100,000 miles, and it will not be so close again until the
24th of August 1924. We could not see the earth, as its dark side was
turned towards us, and it was also lost in the brilliancy of the sun.

At this date we had travelled 88,000,000 miles since we left the earth,
yet we knew it was there, level with our vessel, and only about
29,000,000 miles distant on our left hand, whilst Mars was only
7,000,000 miles from us on our right-hand side.

Our position now was as follows:--Taking an imaginary line drawn from
the _Areonal_ to Mars as the base line of an isosceles triangle, we were
moving along the left side of the triangle, and Mars was moving in a
slightly curved line along the right side. Our paths were therefore
converging, and if all went well we should both meet at the apex of the
triangle on the 24th September, as we had originally intended.

We therefore had six clear days to cover the distance of less than
12,000,000 miles, so we should have sufficient time to slacken speed at
the end of the journey. (See the chart.)

Mars was rapidly growing in size and brightness, for the distance
between the planet and the _Areonal_ was quickly diminishing as our
paths converged, and the various markings on its almost full round disc
formed the subject of continual observation and conversation. We had
noticed on several occasions a mistiness on some parts of the planet,
which I attributed to the vapours raised from the canals by the heated
atmosphere.

On the 21st of September, when we were all enjoying a smoke in the
"evening," and conversation had dragged somewhat, John started us off on
a fresh tack and gave us something to talk about for a very long time.

He winked at M'Allister and, looking at me with a knowing smile, said:
"Professor, as we are nearing our destination it might perhaps be well
if you now gave us some detailed information respecting the planet,
similar to that which you gave us when we were approaching the moon. It
would be both interesting and useful; for we should learn much more from
an orderly statement of the facts than we should from several long but
desultory conversations."

"Yes, Professor," chimed in M'Allister, "I'm quite ready to learn
something definite about Mars, for I can't say I really know much about
it at present."

"Very well then," I replied, "it is upon your own heads, and if you are
willing to listen to a rather long story, I am prepared to do the
talking. Please remember, however, that it will require some time to
make matters clear and understandable."

"Fire away, mon," cried M'Allister, "we will listen as long as you care
to talk."

So I began--"Mars, as no doubt you are aware, is a much smaller planet
than the earth, its diameter being only 4220 miles, which is a little
less than twice the diameter of our moon.

"It would require nine and a half globes the size of Mars to make one
globe the size of the earth; and even then it would not be so heavy,
because the average density of Mars is only about three-fourths of that
of the earth. Mars is the next planet outside the earth's orbit, so is
the fourth from the sun. The orbit in which Mars moves in its journey
round the sun is very much more eccentric than the earth's orbit; in
fact it is more eccentric than the orbits of any of the larger planets.
As a consequence, the planet's distance from the sun varies greatly
according to the particular part of the orbit in which it may be moving.
Its mean distance from the sun is 141,500,000 miles, its greatest
distance over 154,000,000, and at its nearest approach to the sun, or
'perihelion,' as it is called, its distance is only 129,500,000 miles.
Mars travels in its orbit at a mean rate of 15 miles a second.

"As its orbit is also eccentrically placed in relation to the earth's
orbit, it follows that its nearest distance from us in any particular
years may vary greatly. The nearest possible approach it can make in
regard to the earth is a little under 35,000,000 miles; when at the
opposite point of its orbit its nearest approach is about 62,000,000
miles from the earth. As the years of Mars and the earth differ greatly
in length, and the two planets move at different speeds, the very
favourable oppositions can only occur about once every forty-five years;
though a comparatively near opposition occurs about every fifteen years.
Such a close approach we have just witnessed, and it will be fifteen
years before Mars is again so near to the earth!

[Illustration: _CHART: showing the Orbits of the Earth and Mars, and
the relative positions of the two Planets, during the years 1909-10.
Mars passed over the dotted portion of its Orbit in the year 1910._

_The Outer Circle is the Orbit of Mars, and the inner Circle is the
Orbit of the Earth. The Seasonal points on both Orbits show the Seasons
in the Northern hemisphere. In the Southern hemisphere the Seasons are
reversed, "Summer" occurring at the point marked "Winter," and "Spring"
at the point marked "Autumn," &c. &c._

_The dotted downward line on the left-hand side shows the course taken
by the "Areonal", which left the Earth on the 3rd of August and
arrived at Mars on the 24th of September. * Shows the point reached
when John wished to turn back; and the lower dotted line, the
alternative course then suggested._

_The long dotted line running upwards to the Spring Equinox of the Earth
shows the course taken on the homeward Voyage._

_Drawn by M. Wicks._

Plate VII]

"The Martian year is equal to 687 of our days, but as the Martian days
are slightly longer than ours, this really represents 668 Martian days.

"The entire surface of Mars contains an area of about 56,000,000 square
miles, which is about one-fourth of the area of the earth's surface.

"Its gravity is only three-eighths of the earth's gravity, thus
everything upon Mars would weigh proportionately lighter than on the
earth, and the amount of labour required to do such work as digging or
lifting would be lessened. There would, for the same reason, be greater
ease of movement in walking, jumping, or running, and large bulky
animals like our elephants could move with almost the same ease and
freedom as our goats.

"Theoretically, we should expect to find the atmosphere upon Mars very
much thinner than our atmosphere, and actual observation proves this to
be the case. We are able to see details on the surface of Mars with very
much greater distinctness than would be the case if its atmosphere were
as dense as ours. Moreover, clouds are comparatively rarely seen; and
the majority that are observed present more the appearance of clouds of
sand than rain clouds. Usually, also, they float very much higher above
the planet's surface than our clouds are above the earth's surface; ten
miles high is quite an ordinary altitude, and some have been estimated
as quite thirty miles above the planet.

"Many theorists have attempted to prove that, owing to the planet's
distance from the sun, and the thinness of its atmosphere, the
temperature of Mars must be very low, probably below freezing-point even
at the equator. Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace has gone further than this,
and suggests that the temperature must be eighty degrees Centigrade
below freezing-point; that there is no water or water vapour on the
planet; and that it is quite impossible for life to exist there!

"However, as the result of delicate bolometric experiments, careful
calculations, and consideration of conditions affecting the result which
have not previously received so much attention, Professor Very has
arrived at a different opinion; and actual observation has shown that
there is very little indication of frost outside the frigid zones. Even
in the polar regions it is at times evidently warmer than at the earth's
poles, because during the spring and summer the snow-caps upon Mars not
only melt more rapidly, but melt to a much greater extent than our polar
caps do. In 1894 the southern polar snow-cap of Mars was observed almost
continuously during the melting period, and it was actually observed to
dwindle and dwindle until it had entirely disappeared. It is rather
strange to think that we know more about the snow-caps of that
far-distant world than we do about those on our own earth.

"Owing to the lesser gravity on Mars the snow and ice which forms the
caps would certainly be lighter and less closely compacted than the snow
and ice upon our earth; but it is quite clear that it could not melt to
any extent unless the temperature remained above freezing-point for a
considerable length of time.

"It has, however, seriously been contended that the Martian polar caps
are not snow at all, but frozen carbon dioxide--the poisonous dregs of
what once was an atmosphere. Carbon dioxide, however, melts and becomes
gaseous almost suddenly, but these polar snow-caps melt gradually,
exactly as frozen snow would; so this theory fails altogether to fit the
circumstances.

"Moreover, the water which accumulates all round the base of the melting
snow-cap has been carefully observed on many occasions, and in the early
stage of melting it appears blue in tint, but later on, as upper layers
of snow dissolve and those nearer the soil are reached, the water
presents a turbid and muddy appearance; exactly what might be expected
when water has been contaminated by the surface soil.

"Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace declines to accept the blue tint as any proof
that the liquid is water, and contends that shallow water would not
appear that colour when viewed from a distance. You will, however, have
observed that the water in all our shallow reservoirs appears intensely
blue when observed from any distant and elevated point of view. It seems
to me that when, as in the case of Mars, we have a very thin atmosphere
laden with sand particles, we have exactly the conditions which would
produce a very blue sky, and cause the water to appear a deep blue
colour when viewed from a distance.

"It is also contended that water cannot be present on Mars, because none
of our skilled spectroscopists has yet been able to demonstrate by the
spectroscope that there is any water vapour in the Martian atmosphere.

"This, however, is generally acknowledged to be a very difficult and
delicate operation; and, in any case, it is purely negative evidence,
and cannot be accepted as final. I feel quite confident that sooner or
later a means will be found of definitely proving the presence of water
vapour upon Mars by the aid of the usual lines in the spectrum. There
are too many evidences of its presence, such as clouds, hoarfrost, snow,
and seasonal changes in vegetation, to warrant the rejection of the idea
of its existence merely because it has not been detected by the
particular means hitherto used by the spectroscopists.

"Mr. Slipher, of Flagstaff Observatory, has made many experiments with
specially sensitised photographic plates. He has taken several
photographs of the spectrum of the moon and others of the spectrum of
the planet Mars. The plates of the lunar spectrum show a darkening of
the 'a' band, which indicates the presence of water vapour, and we know
that is due to the water vapour in our own atmosphere. The plates of the
spectrum of Mars show a much more definite darkening of the 'a' band,
and Professor Lowell contends that this can only be due to water vapour
in the atmosphere of Mars.

"Professor Campbell has, however, made similar experiments, and is of
opinion that Professor Lowell has been deceived by the water vapour in
our own atmosphere. Thus the matter stands at the present time, and we
must await the result of further investigation before we can consider
the matter settled.

"I, however, regard it as a certainty that improved means will
definitely show that water vapour undoubtedly exists in the Martian
atmosphere, and it is not unlikely that other constituents of that
atmosphere may also be identified, and possibly even the relative
quantities may be ascertained."

John here remarked that he had read of it being contended that life
could not exist on Mars because as water would boil at a temperature a
hundred degrees lower than it did on the earth, it would be impossible
to boil a potato properly, or make a good cup of tea. He thought,
however, that if water boiled at such a low temperature, then the
proportion of water vapour in the air would be increased, as evaporation
would be more rapid than on the earth.

"Undoubtedly so," I replied. "The first argument, however, is very weak.
For many thousands of years the people on the earth not only managed to
live, but attained a high state of civilisation, yet we have no reason
to believe that they ever ate potatoes or drank tea! Even in England we
have only known and used these articles for about three hundred years!
The inhabitants of any world would be suited to their environments.

"The polar-caps on Mars are shown on very early drawings of the planet;
but, up to the year 1877, little was known of the general surface
details beyond the fact that the general colour was orange-red,
diversified by dark patches of blue-green in some parts, and some
narrow, serpentine markings here and there. All these markings are now
much more accurately drawn, as the result of more careful and continuous
observation. Sir William Herschel suggested that the red colour was
attributable to the vegetation of Mars being red, instead of green as on
our earth; but it was generally considered that the red areas indicated
land and the dark areas water. The work of our modern observers has,
however, resulted in a general revision of our ideas on these points.

"It had long been reasoned that, as the earth was accompanied by a
moon, and Jupiter had at least four, Mars, the intermediate planet,
might be expected to possess a satellite. The planet itself being small,
its moon would probably be very small, and likely to be overlooked when
observing with the telescope, because its light would be overpowered by
the light of the planet, which would make the telescopic field of view
very bright. Up to the year 1877 the most powerful instruments had been
used without success in the search for the supposed satellite.


"In that year Mars made an exceptionally near approach to the earth, and
Professor Asaph Hall, of Washington Observatory, took up the search,
using a splendid refracting telescope having an object-glass 26 inches
in diameter. The methods he adopted were rewarded with success, for he
discovered not only one, but two satellites of Mars, and they were given
the names of Phobos and Deimos.

"Both these satellites are very close to the planet and extremely small,
Phobos being less than 4000 miles from the planet's surface, and Deimos
only 12,300 miles from it. As seen in the telescope, they are very faint
points of light which cannot be measured by ordinary means, and the
estimation of their size was a matter of great difficulty.

"Professor Langley gives an interesting account of the endeavour to
estimate their size by the amount of light reflected, as compared with
the light afforded by our own moon when full. It was a most difficult
task, as the comparison had to be made by means of tiny holes drilled in
metal plates; and for a long time it was impossible to find a workman
who could drill a hole sufficiently small for the purpose, although one
of those employed had succeeded in drilling a hole through a lady's thin
cambric needle from end to end, thus converting it into a tiny steel
tube. One would have thought such a feat impossible; yet what was now
required was a hole smaller than the one thus made through the tiny
needle."

"My word!" said M'Allister, "I would like to see the mon who did that
piece of work, and shake hands with him; he must be a rare clever
fellow!"

"Yes," said John, "and I would like to see the drill he used; for such a
long and extremely slender tool, to be effective, must be as clever a
piece of work as the steel tube."

"I may tell you," I proceeded, "that success was at last attained; and
as a result of the comparison of our moon's light with that of Deimos,
it was shown that if the general surface brightness of the latter were
equal to that of our moon, then Deimos must be only 18 miles in
diameter, or about a 15,000th part of the area of our moon's disc.

"To state the matter in another way--supposing our moon were only 18
miles in diameter, and was removed to the same distance as Deimos is
from us, then it would appear only the very faint point of light that
Deimos appears when viewed through the telescope.

"By the same means Phobos, the satellite nearest to Mars, was estimated
to be about 22-1/2 miles in diameter. These dimensions, however, depend
on the brightness of these satellites being exactly the same as the
general brightness of our moon; and later experiments have fixed the
sizes as 36 miles for Phobos, and 10 miles as the diameter of Deimos.

"I will not detain you much longer on this subject, as we shall be able
to discuss it further when we arrive upon Mars; but I may now mention
that, in one respect, the little satellite named Phobos is unique. It is
the only satellite we know of which revolves round its primary planet in
less time than it takes the planet itself to make one revolution on its
axis.[6]

"Mars revolves on its axis in 24 hours, 37 minutes, and 22 seconds, thus
the 'day' on Mars is nearly 38 minutes longer than our 'day.' Phobos
revolves round the planet in the very short period of 7 hours, 39
minutes, and 14 seconds, and therefore makes more than three complete
revolutions round the planet in the course of a single Martian day. The
peculiar phenomena to which this very rapid motion gives rise, and the
numerous eclipses which occur, will be matters of great interest to us
all when we reach Mars. Our moon, as you know, takes a month to make one
revolution round the earth."

"Professor," said John, "when we get to Mars, it will be rather a
curious experience for us to see two moons shining in the sky at the
same time!"

"My word!" exclaimed M'Allister, "two moons shining at once! If I go out
and see such a sight as that, I shall think the whisky has been a wee
bit too strong for me!"

"Well," replied John, "if your usual drink has the effect of making you
see double, take good advice, and leave the whisky severely alone when
you are on Mars, or else you will be seeing _four_ moons all at once,
and receive such a shock that you will never get over it!"

M'Allister laughed pleasantly as John said this. He is a real good
fellow, and takes all John's chaff with the utmost good-humour; but, in
justice to him, I must say that, although he sticks to his national
drink like a true Scot, I have never once seen him any the worse for it.
He knows his limitations, and always keeps within them.




CHAPTER X

THE DISCOVERY OF LINES UPON MARS--THE GREAT MARTIAN CONTROVERSY


After the little interlude with M'Allister, I resumed my remarks by
saying that "The year 1877, so memorable for the near approach of Mars
and the discovery of its two tiny satellites, was also the year in which
a still more important discovery was made--a discovery, in fact, which
has much enlarged our knowledge of the planet, and has also resulted in
an entire revision of our conceptions respecting it.

"An Italian astronomer, Signor Schiaparelli, took advantage of the
favourable position of Mars to observe it very carefully, and some time
afterwards announced that he had seen upon its surface a number of very
fine lines which had not previously been noticed, and these he had
carefully charted upon his drawings and maps.

"This announcement started one of the most acrimonious discussions that
the astronomical world has ever known; and although it is now over
thirty years since it commenced, astronomers are still divided into two
parties--one accepting the lines as demonstrated facts, the other either
denying their existence, or endeavouring to explain them away by various
more or less ingenious or fanciful theories.

[Illustration: _From a Globe made by M. Wicks_ Plate VIII

MARS. MAP I

In all these maps the south is at the top. The dark shaded portions are
vegetation, mostly on old sea-beds. The fine lines are the canals, and
the round dots the oases. The light areas are deserts. Longitude "0" is
seen on the Equator between the two forks of the "Sabaeus Sinus."]

"When Signor Schiaparelli's statements and drawings were first
discussed, it was declared by some to be quite impossible that these
fine lines could really have been seen by him: either his eyes must have
been overstrained, or he claimed to see more than he actually did see.
So warm did the discussion become that he soon withdrew from it
altogether, but devoted himself to his work. As time went on, he not
only verified his previous discoveries, but found numerous fresh lines,
all of which appeared to run straight and true over many hundreds of
miles on the planet.

"Milan then had a good clear atmosphere which was favourable for the
observation of delicate planetary markings, and other observers who were
well situated were able to see and draw many of the lines which
Schiaparelli had discovered.

"It was, however, contended that such lines could not have any real
existence, as it was asserted that they were too straight. It is quite
true that straight lines on a rotating globe would appear curved when
seen from some points of view, but if the objectors had carefully
studied complete sets of drawings, they would have seen that the lines
did assume a curved form in certain aspects of the planet.

"Then the very same people who denied the actuality of the lines because
they were too straight, eagerly took up a suggestion that they were not
actually narrow lines, but the edges of diffused shadings on the planet,
apparently quite oblivious of the fact that the same objections must
apply to them. Moreover, if there was difficulty in accepting the
actuality of narrow lines, there must be immensely greater difficulty in
believing that shadings could, in such a very large number of cases, all
end in straight lines many hundreds or thousands of miles long, and
always appear uniformly true, no matter upon what portion of the disc
they might be seen, and whatever might be the angle of illumination.

"Besides, only a small proportion of the lines are connected with
shadings. The shadings are more likely to be the result of the canals
than the cause of the formation of illusory lines in so many cases.

"I have listened to many of these discussions, and have often been much
amused at the tangle of inconsistencies in which some have involved
themselves, by taking up fresh theories without regard to their previous
contentions.

"As time went on each opposition of Mars brought the discovery of fresh
lines, and numerous observers confirmed the reality of Schiaparelli's
work.

"Professor Lowell, the well-known American astronomer, took up the study
of Mars in a most thorough and systematic manner, and has since
practically made it his life's work. An observatory was built at
Flagstaff, Arizona, far away from towns and smoke, at an altitude of
over 6000 feet above the sea-level, the site being specially selected on
account of the clearness and purity of its atmosphere; while the
observatory, being high up above the denser and more disturbed strata of
air, afforded the most favourable situation possible for the proper
observation of delicate planetary detail.

"There he continued the work which Schiaparelli had commenced, and,
together with the colleagues with whom he has been associated, has, by
long-continued and most systematic work, added greatly to our knowledge
of Mars. Year after year has seen the addition of more lines on our maps
of the planet, whilst many interesting discoveries have been made--one
being that some of the fine lines were double, the second line always
being equidistant from the first one throughout its whole length, no
matter whether the lines were straight or curved.

"This caused a further outcry of objection. The observers were told that
they had been overstraining their eyesight so that they 'saw double,'
and also that they had been using telescopes not properly focussed. Such
objections seem almost beyond argument, for no practical observer could
use an improperly focussed instrument without at once discovering the
defect.

"Besides, if the double lines were the result of eye-strain, or any
other defect which might cause such illusions, all the lines would have
been seen double, or at least all the lines running at the same angles;
but as a matter of fact only a very small proportion of the lines were
so seen, and it made no difference what position they occupied on the
disc, or at what angles they were presented. Some of the doubles were,
in fact, curved lines; and another point was that in some cases they
were only doubled at certain seasons of the year.

"Other observers who saw the lines were charged with having studied the
maps of Schiaparelli and Lowell until they had become obsessed with the
lines, and when they looked through the telescope simply fancied they
saw them!

"In England our atmospheric conditions are seldom really favourable to
the proper seeing of the finer detail, and the very faint lines cannot
be seen at all. The lines that are visible do not appear thin and sharp
as they do to observers in more favoured climes, but rather as diffused
smudgy lines, and so they are drawn by the observers. On a few
occasions of exceptionally good seeing they have, however, been seen and
drawn as finer and sharper lines.

"The visibility of the lines was, however, confirmed by so many
observers of known integrity, and from so many different parts of the
world, that the objectors were at last compelled to abandon the position
they had occupied. Then a new theory was started, viz. that the lines
were actually seen but did not actually exist, being really optical
illusions arising from the apparent integration, or running together in
linear form, of various small disconnected markings which were viewed
from beyond the distance of clear seeing.

"The manner in which it was sought to prove the correctness of this
theory appeared to me at the time (and still does so) as most weak and
fallacious, and certain experiments I made only strengthened that
opinion. However, scientific people accepted it as proof.

"In making this experiment schoolboys were seated in rows at different
measured distances from a map of Mars, which they were told to copy. The
map showed all the well-known dark patches and markings, but no fine
lines. About the places where some of those lines should have been,
dots, curls, wisps, &c., were inserted at irregular distances, and not
always exactly where the lines should have been shown. The inevitable
result was that the boys who were too far away to see clearly saw these
small markings as continuous straight lines, and so drew them. In the
circumstances they could not do otherwise; for if sufficient marks were
inserted nearly in alignment, they would necessarily produce the effect
of lines.

"These drawings were then acclaimed as _proving_ that the lines seen on
Mars were only discrete markings viewed from beyond the distance of
clear seeing, and that the network of lines seen and drawn by so many
skilled and careful observers of Mars had no actual existence upon the
planet. Thus all their work was completely discredited.

"Experiments like these could not possibly prove any such thing, because
it would be easy to insert in a map various markings which, when viewed
from a distance, would appear to form almost any design that one might
choose to depict. Any desired effect might thus be obtained; and I have
seen many pictures so formed in which the illusion was perfect. When
viewed from a distance each appeared to be a picture of something
entirely different from what was seen when it was viewed from a near
standpoint.

"The linear illusion could not arise from a mere multiplicity of faint
scattered markings, but all the more conspicuous markings must be in
alignment. It seems impossible to imagine that so many hundreds of lines
on Mars could thus fortuitously be formed by illusion, and _every_ line
be connected to some definite point at each end.

"To argue that because illusory lines can be formed as in these
experiments proves that the Martian lines are also illusions is claiming
far too much. For instance, if I drew what was actually a map of South
Africa, and was so seen at close quarters, yet in consequence of the
insertion of numerous small marks and shadings formed a portrait of Lord
Blank when viewed from a distance, it would be very far indeed from
proving that every map of South Africa was a portrait of the noble lord,
or that his portraits were all maps of South Africa.

"Moreover, as I myself saw, some of the boys were so unskilled that they
had not even drawn correctly the outlines of the dark patches about
which there was no dispute.

"It is obvious that such erroneous and unreliable work as this could not
be regarded as evidence upon which truly scientific argument could be
founded for the purpose of deciding such a contentious question; yet
mainly upon this very slender and unreliable evidence meetings of two of
our leading astronomical associations endorsed the illusion theory, and
for a long time it held the field.

"M. Flammarion made some similar experiments in Paris, and even inserted
spaced dots along the sites of canal lines on the map put up as a copy,
yet not one boy drew a canal. M. Flammarion evidently was rather too
sparing with his dots and marks.

"A long series of experiments was carefully carried out by Professor
Lowell and his colleagues, from which it was deduced that if in any line
on Mars there was a gap of sixteen miles in length, our present
telescopes would suffice to discover it. It is most improbable that in
so many hundreds of lines, several of which are over two thousand miles
in length, there would not be numerous gaps over sixteen miles long if
the lines were made up of separate markings.

"Yet it is found that every line is perfect in its continuity, and not
only so, but uniform in width throughout its whole length, which would
be impossible if the lines were made up of separate markings not in
alignment.

"The illusion theory may, however, to a certain extent be correct, but
this will prove exactly the opposite of what its supporters contend. It
appears to have been quite overlooked that as there are so many
thousands of miles of canals it is utterly impossible to suppose that
the vegetation, which is all that we really see, is continuous and
without breaks. It would indeed be most extraordinary if there were not
very many long stretches of land which, for some natural or utilitarian
reasons, were either bare of vegetation or so sparsely covered as to
appear bare when viewed from the earth through a telescope. Some parts
of the canals in hilly or rocky ground may pass through tunnels, and
thus cause apparent gaps in the lines; or ground may be incapable of
bearing vegetation, or purposely left fallow.

"It would, therefore, be no matter of surprise if more powerful
instruments should, in moments of perfect seeing, reveal numerous
apparent gaps in the lines. So far from proving they were not canals,
such gaps are exactly what we should expect to find in connection with
canals; and the lines would probably appear as irregular light and dark
patches in alignment, because we do not see the canals themselves, but
only the vegetation on the land which they traverse. Probably there are
also many oases yet to be discovered along the canal lines.

"As I have already stated, it was asserted that the double lines were
illusions arising from the causes already mentioned, with the probable
addition of eye-strain and bad focussing. Assuming that the single lines
are, as it is declared, illusions, we are confronted with the
assumption that the doubles are illusions of illusions, and this is more
than I can follow, it seems so improbable.

"Professor Lowell has devoted some sixteen years to close and continuous
observation of Mars whenever it has been in a position to be observed,
and many thousands of drawings have been made, the results being plotted
down on a globe. In reply to the statements of occasional observers that
the lines cannot be seen, he testifies that they are not difficult to
see; and that any one who saw them in his exceptionally good atmosphere,
and through his instruments, could have no doubt of their actuality. He
rather caustically, but very justly, remarks in one of his books that
his many years of personal experience in viewing these lines almost
entitle him to an opinion on the subject equal to those who have had
none at all!

"The proof of their existence, however, no longer rests only on the
corroborative evidence of other observers, for, after years of
experiment, Professor Lowell and his staff have succeeded in taking
direct photographs of Mars, which show several of the disputed lines.
One would have thought that would settle the question, but, although
some of the more reasonable of the objectors have been convinced by the
evidence of the photographs, many others still maintain their attitude
of scepticism, especially those who have not themselves seen the
photographs. They declare it to be quite impossible for any such
photographs to be taken, because our atmosphere would prevent any
photographic definition of fine detail on such small pictures; yet about
ten thousand of these tiny photographs were taken during the near
approach of Mars in 1907.

"As I possess a number of these photographs I can testify that they do
show some of the lines, and persons who disbelieved have expressed
surprise at their excellence. Success was only obtained by means of
specially sensitised plates, for the ordinary photographic rays and
ordinary plates were found useless, whilst the process of photographing
so small and distant a planet is surrounded with difficulties.

"Even when attached to a telescope giving an equivalent focal length of
nearly 150 feet, the camera only gives a very tiny image of the planet.
The lighting of the small image is faint, but if additional power were
used on the telescope to obtain a larger image, then its light must be
still fainter, and thus a longer exposure would be required to obtain a
picture on the plate. As Mars moves in its orbit and rotates on its
axis, and our atmosphere is subject to continual movement and
disturbance, any long exposure would result in a blurred picture, which
would show no fine detail. So, as a short exposure is essential, only a
small picture can be taken. Nothing is gained by any subsequent great
enlargement of the picture, because the grain of the film of a quick
plate is coarse; and, if enlarged, this also blurs out the detail.

"Having regard to all the difficulties which had to be surmounted, it
was a great and undoubted triumph to secure detail on such tiny
photographs of this distant world. As time goes on improvements will
probably be effected and still better pictures secured; but enough has
now been accomplished to prove that the lines cannot be illusions, but
really exist upon the planet. If the eye can be deceived in this
respect, the camera cannot.

"When Professor Lowell first took up the work of Martian observation
only 113 lines had been discovered by Schiaparelli, but the number has
gradually been added to from time to time, as the result of the work
done at Flagstaff Observatory and elsewhere, and has now reached a total
of considerably more than 600, the lines forming a fine network
extending all over the planet.

"Mr. Slipher, who accompanied Professor Todd's expedition to Alianza in
Chili, at the opposition of 1907, together with the observers at
Flagstaff, discovered no less than 85 new canals, including some
doubles, nearly all being in the more southern portions of the southern
hemisphere.

"In addition to the discovery of so many fine lines, we also owe to the
acumen of Professor Lowell a reasonable explanation of what they really
are. Schiaparelli termed them 'canali,' an Italian term for 'channels,'
but, popularly, this soon became corrupted into the term 'canals,' and
this has turned out to be a much more appropriate word than such
corruptions usually are.

[Illustration: _From a Globe made by M. Wicks_ Plate IX

MARS. MAP II

The Solis Lacus is seen as an oval patch near the top, and many long
canals, some double, are shown. A very large proportion of the area on
this map is desert land.]




CHAPTER XI

THE GREAT MARTIAN CONTROVERSY (_continued_)


"As the result of very long continued and systematic observation of the
lines on Mars, together with carefully plotting them down on a globe, it
was found that every line was continuous, uniform in width, and went
straight from one definite point to another, not one breaking off in
open space. Moreover, on being tested, nearly all were found to be arcs
of great circles, and therefore the shortest possible lines which could
connect any two points on a sphere. This fact strongly supports the idea
that they are not natural but artificial formations. For a long time the
lines were only seen on the red, or lighter, parts of the planet, but in
1892 an expedition was sent from Harvard Observatory to Arequipa, in
Peru, for the purpose of observing the planet under very favourable
conditions, and this resulted in important discoveries. Professor W.H.
Pickering, who accompanied the expedition, was fortunate enough to
observe that the canal lines extended over the dark or blue-green
portions of the disc; and later observations have proved that this is
the case all over the planet, and the lines are visible from pole to
pole.

"These observations also led Professor Pickering to the important
conclusion that all the dark areas were covered with vegetation, and
that the bright or red areas were deserts, the colour of the latter
being exactly that of our deserts when viewed from a great distance.
Herschel's idea had been that the red areas were land covered with
vegetation of a red colour, and that the dark areas were seas.

"It was, however, now quite clear that permanent lines in such numbers
and length could not exist in seas; and other observations have
demonstrated that, instead of appearing smooth and uniform as water
would, these areas are full of detail and variations, and that they pass
through all the changes of colour, according to seasons, that land
covered with vegetation does upon our earth. In the winter time, when
the land is fallow, it appears brown or chocolate colour; in the spring,
the time of early vegetation, it becomes a pale blue-green tint; as the
season advances the blue-green becomes darker; whilst in the autumn it
tends to a light brown, and at length changes into chocolate colour in
the winter. This has been carefully noted time after time when the
planet has been in a position to be observed; and the same sequence of
change--which can only be associated with vegetation--has always
occurred.

"It may, therefore, now be accepted as a proved fact that the dark areas
are land upon which vegetation grows, ripens, and dies away according to
the seasons of the Martian year.

"Professor Pickering also made another discovery, viz. a large number of
isolated, round, darkish spots, most of which occurred where canal lines
joined or crossed each other. Some of these had been seen much earlier
by other observers, but Professor Pickering was the first to see them in
large numbers and call attention to them. He termed them 'lakes,' but
later discoveries from continued observation showed that they were not
water, and they were then given the name of 'oases.' Some are seventy or
eighty miles in diameter, and nearly two hundred are now marked on the
maps. They mostly occur in certain definite positions--in the point
where single canals join or cross each other, or, in the case of double
canals, between the two lines. It has been noted that they undergo the
same seasonal changes as the dark areas do, but only as regards the
outer portion of the circle, which gradually fades away in the latter
part of the Martian year; whilst the central portion becomes fainter but
does not disappear.

"Of course it was at once declared that these oases were illusions which
would naturally be seen where two lines crossed each other and were
viewed from a great distance. But they only occur in some cases at such
crossings, and there are many junctions without any oases. Moreover,
they are also seen between the double canals where there are no
junctions nor anything which could give rise to illusion.

"At Flagstaff Observatory it was also noted that the canal lines
themselves underwent seasonal changes. Those viewed during the winter
season were always so faint as to be scarcely discernible, but at the
period when vegetation would naturally begin to grow they became more
easily visible, and still more distinct as the season advanced.

"Then Professor Lowell announced his great conception, which has given
rise to so much controversy, and has also been much misunderstood and
m

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/27633