A FALLEN SATELLITE.
I promised, and then settled myself more comfortably into my steamer
chair to await Margaret’s return. The three minutes passed, and she did
not come. Evidently it was hard to find the professor, or perhaps he
was holding her, against her will, for a discussion of the book. At any
rate, I could do nothing but sit there, in that easy, half-reclining
position, and watch the full moon, which had just risen, and was shining
square in my face, if that could be said of an object that looked so
round.
I fell into a deep reverie. My mind was filled with contending emotions,
and such opposing objects as rolling worlds and lovely maidens flitted
in dim images across my mental vision. I loved the best woman on the
earth, and I wondered if any of those other globes contained her equal.
If so, then perhaps some other man was as fortunate as myself. I was
drowsy, but determined to keep awake and pursue this fancy. I remember
feeling confident that I could not sleep if I only kept my eyes open,
and so I said I would keep them fixed on the bright face of the moon.
But how large it looked. Surely something must be wrong with it, or was
it my memory that was at fault? I thought the moon generally appeared
smaller as it rose further above the horizon, but now it was growing
bigger every minute. It was coming nearer, too. Nearer, larger--why, it
was monstrous. I could not turn my eyes away now, and everything else
was forgotten, swallowed up in that one awful sight. How fast it grew.
Now it fills half the sky and makes me tremble with fear. Part of it is
still lighted by the sun, and part is in dark, threatening shadow. I
see pale faces around me. Others are gazing, awe-stricken, at the same
object. We are in the open street, and some have glasses, peering into
the deep craters and caverns of the surface.
I seemed to be a new-comer on the scene, and could not help remarking to
my nearest neighbor:
“This is a strange sight. Do you think it is real, or are we all bereft
of our senses?”
“Strange indeed, but true,” he answered.
“But what does it mean?” And then, assuming a gayety I did not feel,
I asked further: “Does the moon, too, want to be annexed to the United
States?”
“You speak lightly, young man,” my neighbor said, “and do not appear to
realize the seriousness of our situation. Where have you been, that you
have not heard this matter discussed, and do not understand that the
moon is certain to come into collision with the earth in a very short
time?”
He seemed thoroughly alarmed, and I soon found that all the people
shared his feeling. The movement of the earth carried us out of sight
of the moon in a few hours, but after a brief rest everybody was on the
watch again at the next revolution. The excitement over the behavior of
our once despised moon increased rapidly from this time. Nothing else
was talked of, business was well-nigh suspended, and the newspapers
neglected everything else to tell about the unparalleled natural
phenomenon. Speculation was rife as to what would be the end, and what
effect would follow a union of the earth with its satellite.
While this discussion was going on, the unwelcome visitor was
approaching with noticeable rapidity at every revolution of the earth,
and the immense dark shadow which it now made, as it passed beneath the
sun, seemed ominous of an ill fate to our world and its inhabitants. It
was a time to try the stoutest hearts, and, of course, the multitude of
the people were overwhelmed with alarm. As no one could do anything to
ward off what seemed a certain catastrophe, the situation was all the
more dreadful. Men could only watch the monster, speculate as to the
result, and wait, with horrible suspense, for the inevitable. The circle
of revolution was now becoming so small that the crisis was hourly
expected. Men everywhere left their houses and sought the shelterless
fields, and it was well they did so, for there came a day when the earth
received a sudden and awful shock. After it had passed, people looked
at each other wonderingly to find themselves alive, and began
congratulating each other, thinking the worst was over. But the dreadful
anxiety returned when, after some hours, the moon again appeared, a
little tardy this time, but nearer and more threatening than ever. The
news was afterwards brought that it had struck the high mountain peaks
of Central Asia, tearing down their sides with the power of a thousand
glaciers and filling the valleys below with ruin.
It was now felt that the end must soon come, and this was true, for at
the earth’s very next revolution the tired and feeble satellite, once
the queen of the sky and the poet’s glory, scraped across the continent
of South America, received the death blow in collision with the Andes,
careened, and fell at last into the South Pacific Ocean. The shock given
to the earth was tremendous, but no other result was manifest except
that the huge mass displaced water enough to submerge many islands and
to reconstruct the shore lines of every continent. There was untold loss
of life and property, of course, but it is astonishing how easily those
who were left alive accepted the new state of things, when it was found
that the staid earth, in spite of the enormous wart on her side, was
making her daily revolution almost with her accustomed regularity.
The lovers of science, however, were by no means indifferent to
the new-comer. To be able at last to solve all the problems of the
constitution and geography of the moon was enough to fill them with the
greatest enthusiasm. But, while thousands were ready to investigate
the mysterious visitor, one great difficulty stood in the way of all
progress. It seemed impossible to get a foothold on the surface. The
great globe rose from the waves on all sides at such an angle on account
of its shape that a lodgment could not easily be made. Ships sailed
under the overhanging sides, and in a calm sea they would send out their
boats, which approached near enough to secure huge specimens. These were
broken into fragments and were soon sold on the streets of every city.
The first to really set foot on the dead satellite were some adventurous
advertisers, who shot an arrow and cord over a projecting crag, pulled a
rope after it, and finally drew themselves up, and soon the lunar cliffs
were put to some practical use, blazoning forth a few staring words.
These men could not go beyond their narrow standing place, for the
general curve of the surface, although broken up by many irregularities,
presented no opportunities for the most skillful climbing.
But it was impossible that, with the moon so near, the problem of
reaching it could long remain unsolved. Dr. Schwartz, an eminent
scientist, was the first to suggest that it must be approached in a
balloon, and at the same time he announced that he would be one of two
men, if another could be found, to undertake to effect a landing in that
way. Here, I saw, was my opportunity. I had often dreamed of visiting
the moon and other heavenly bodies, and now here was a chance to go
in reality. I had some acquaintance with Dr. Schwartz, and my prompt
application for the vacant place in the proposed expedition was
successful. The doctor kindly wrote me that my enthusiasm in the cause
was just what he was looking for, and he was sure I would prove a plucky
and reliable companion. The matter attracted so much attention that the
United States Government, moved to action by the public nature of
the enterprise, took it up and offered to bear all the expense of
the equipment and carrying out of the expedition. Encouraged by this
assistance, the doctor began his plans at once. All recognized that one
great object was to settle the question as to the existence of life on
the other side of the moon; for, in spite of its rude collisions with
mountains and continents before it rested as near the heart of the earth
as it could get, it had insisted, with an almost knowing perversity, in
keeping its old, familiar face next to us. To solve this problem might
take much time, and so we determined to go so well prepared that, if we
once reached the upper surface of the moon, we could stay as long as our
errand demanded.
It was decided to make the ascent from a town near the coast of the
southern part of Chile, and thither we went with our balloon, some
scientific apparatus, and a large quantity of dried provisions. We
took with us also papers from the State Department showing that we were
accredited agents from our Government to the inhabitants of the moon, if
we should find any. Our arrangements were speedily made, and on a still,
bright morning we bade adieu to our friends who had accompanied us thus
far, mounted our car, and set sail.
We left the earth with light hearts, excited with the novel and
interesting character of the enterprise, and but little realizing its
difficulty and danger. Ordinary balloon journeys had become frequent,
and the evolution of the air ship had almost passed beyond the
experimental stage, but nothing like our present undertaking had ever
been attempted.
Our starting place was far enough from the resting point of the moon
to enable us to clear the rounded side, but in order to reach the
equatorial line of the fallen globe we would be obliged to ascend over a
thousand miles.
The fact that we were not appalled by the mere thought of rising to such
a height shows how thoroughly we were carried away with the excitement.
But we were better prepared for a lofty flight than might be supposed.
For among the recent wonders of science had been the invention of an
air-condensing machine, by which the rarefied atmosphere of the upper
regions could be converted into good food for the lungs. These machines
had been successfully tested more than once by voyagers of the air, but
the present occasion promised to give them a much more severe trial than
they had yet received. And, indeed, it is impossible to imagine how
we could have survived without them. Another important aid to science
rendered by this air-condensing apparatus is that in the process of
condensation water is produced in sufficient quantities to drink. Our
little car was tightly inclosed, and we took enough surplus gas with us
to keep it comfortably warm. So, with plenty of food, air, water, and
fuel, we were pretty well prepared for a long journey.
Our instruments, placed just outside the glass sides of the car, told
us how fast we were rising and what height we had reached from time
to time, and as we left the denser atmosphere of the earth we were
gratified to find that we continued to rise rapidly. On one side of
us we could see the rugged surface of the moon, now, on account of its
rounded form, drawing nearer to us every hour as we approached the point
where we hoped to land. We thought it best to try to pass the center and
land, if possible, somewhere on the upper hemisphere, which was the
part of the monstrous object that we wanted to investigate. But when
at length we thought we were about to fly past the moon’s equator
successfully, an unexpected thing happened.
If we suppose the moon was resting, at the bottom of the ocean, on one
of its poles, we were going toward the equatorial line, and we thought
we should not be able to retain a foothold anywhere below that line
certainly. But now, what was our surprise to find ourselves under some
mysterious influence. Our balloon refused to obey us as heretofore, and
in spite of rudder and sail we were drifting about, and appeared to be
going toward the moon’s surface sooner than we had intended.
In scientific emergencies I deferred to my companion, and now asked
for an explanation of this erratic behavior of our balloon. Instead of
replying at once, the doctor stooped and cut a fine wire, which released
one of the sand bags suspended for ballast from the bottom of our car,
and told me to watch it. We both watched it, and instead of starting
with rapidity for the center of the earth, as all well-conducted sand
bags have done from the beginning of the world, it seemed to hesitate
and float around a minute, as though it were no more than a handful of
feathers. And then, slowly at first, but soon more and more swiftly,
forgetting its birthplace and its old mother earth, it fell unblushingly
toward the moon.
Intent on watching the fickle sand bag, we did not at first notice that
our whole conveyance was practicing the same unhandsome maneuver. But
we soon became aware that we had changed allegiance also. We had started
with the earth at our feet and the moon looming up on one side of us,
but here we were now riding with the moon under us and the earth away
off at our side.
My fellow in this strange experience now found his voice.
“You doubtless realize,” said he, “what has taken place. We are now so
far from the earth that its attraction is very weak and the nearer mass
of the moon is drawing us.”
“That is quite evident,” I said, “but you seem as unconcerned about it
as if such a trip as this were an everyday affair with you.”
“I am not at all indifferent to the wonderful character of this
journey,” he replied, “but its scientific value swallows up all personal
considerations.”
I believed this to be true, and I will say right here that in all our
future experiences the doctor showed the same indifference to everything
like fear, and seemed content to go to any length in the interest of
science.
We were now able to govern our movements by the ordinary methods of
ballooning, and after sailing over the surface of the moon a few hours,
studying its rugged outlines, we began to think of selecting a place
for landing. There was no water to be seen and no forests nor other
vegetation, but everywhere were huge mountains and deep valleys, all as
bare and uninviting as it is possible to imagine.
But it would not do to turn a cold shoulder to her now, and so we
descended gracefully to make her close acquaintance, cast out our
anchor, and were soon on the moon in reality.