Chapter 16

The Southern Hemisphere

3 min

The projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, and a very unforseen one. Who would have thought of such an encounter with meteors? These erring bodies might create serious perils for the travelers. They were to them so many sandbanks upon that sea of ether which, less fortunate than sailors, they could not escape. But did these adventurers complain of space? No, not since nature had given them the splendid sight of a cosmical meteor bursting from expansion, since this inimitable firework, which no Ruggieri could imitate, had lit up for some seconds the invisible glory of the moon. In that flash, continents, seas, and forests had become visible to them. Did an atmosphere, then, bring to this unknown face its life-giving atoms? Questions still insoluble, and forever closed against human curiousity!

The projectile had just escaped a terrible and completely unexpected danger. Who would have expected such an encounter with meteors? These wandering bodies could pose serious dangers to the travelers. They were like sandbanks in the sea of ether, but the travelers, unlike sailors, could not avoid them. But did these adventurers complain about space? No, not after nature had given them the splendid sight of a cosmic meteor bursting as it expanded. This matchless firework, which no Ruggieri could imitate, had lit up the moon’s invisible face for a few glorious seconds. In that flash, they had seen continents, seas, and forests. Did an atmosphere, then, bring its life-giving atoms to this unknown face? These questions remained unanswered, and human curiosity would never find the answers!

It was then half-past three in the afternoon. The projectile was following its curvilinear direction round the moon. Had its course again been altered by the meteor? It was to be feared so. But the projectile must describe a curve unalterably determined by the laws of mechanical reasoning. Barbicane was inclined to believe that this curve would be rather a parabola than a hyperbola. But admitting the parabola, the projectile must quickly have passed through the cone of shadow projected into space opposite the sun. This cone, indeed, is very narrow, the angular diameter of the moon being so little when compared with the diameter of the orb of day; and up to this time the projectile had been floating in this deep shadow. Whatever had been its speed (and it could not have been insignificant), its period of occultation continued. That was evident, but perhaps that would not have been the case in a supposedly rigidly parabolical trajectory—a new problem which tormented Barbicane’s brain, imprisoned as he was in a circle of unknowns which he could not unravel.

It was then half past three in the afternoon. The projectile was following a curved path around the moon. Had the meteor changed its course again? There was reason to fear so. But the projectile had to follow a curve fixed by the laws of mechanics. Barbicane was inclined to believe it would be a parabola rather than a hyperbola. But if the path were a parabola, the projectile should have passed quickly through the cone of shadow. This shadow stretched into space on the side of the moon opposite the sun. The cone was very narrow because the moon’s angular diameter was so small compared with the sun’s. Yet the projectile was still floating in deep shadow. Whatever its speed, and it could not have been insignificant, its passage through the shadow continued. That much was clear. But perhaps it would not have remained in shadow on a strictly parabolic path. This new problem tormented Barbicane. He was trapped in a circle of unknowns he could not unravel.

Neither of the travelers thought of taking an instant’s repose. Each one watched for an unexpected fact, which might throw some new light on their uranographic studies. About five o’clock, Michel Ardan distributed, under the name of dinner, some pieces of bread and cold meat, which were quickly swallowed without either of them abandoning their scuttle, the glass of which was incessantly encrusted by the condensation of vapor.

Neither traveler thought of resting for a moment. Each watched for something unexpected that might shed new light on their study of the heavens. Around five o’clock, Michel Ardan handed out pieces of bread and cold meat and called it dinner. They quickly swallowed the food without leaving their windows. Condensation kept forming on the glass.

About forty-five minutes past five in the evening, Nicholl, armed with his glass, sighted toward the southern border of the moon, and in the direction followed by the projectile, some bright points cut upon the dark shield of the sky. They looked like a succession of sharp points lengthened into a tremulous line. They were very bright. Such appeared the terminal line of the moon when in one of her octants.

At about 5:45 in the evening, Nicholl looked through his telescope toward the moon’s southern edge, along the projectile’s path. He saw some bright points against the dark sky. They looked like a series of sharp peaks stretched into a trembling line. They were very bright. This was how the moon’s boundary between light and dark appeared when it was in one of its octants.

They could not be mistaken. It was no longer a simple meteor. This luminous ridge had neither color nor motion. Nor was it a volcano in eruption. And Barbicane did not hesitate to pronounce upon it.

They could not be mistaken. It was no longer a simple meteor. The glowing ridge had no color and did not move. Nor was it an erupting volcano. Barbicane did not hesitate to say what it was.

“The sun!” he exclaimed.

“What! the sun?” answered Nicholl and Michel Ardan.

“What! The sun?” replied Nicholl and Michel Ardan.

“Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself lighting up the summit of the mountains situated on the southern borders of the moon. We are evidently nearing the south pole.”

“Yes, my friends, the radiant orb itself is lighting up the mountain peaks along the moon’s southern edge. We are clearly nearing the south pole.”

“After having passed the north pole,” replied Michel. “We have made the circuit of our satellite, then?”

“After passing the north pole,” replied Michel. “So we’ve gone all the way around the Moon?”

“Yes, my good Michel.”

“Yes, my dear Michel.”

“Then, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no more open curves to fear?”

“So, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, and no more open curves to worry about?”

“No, but a closed curve.”

“Which is called—”

“Which is called...”

“An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in interplanetary space, it is probable that the projectile will describe an elliptical orbit around the moon.”

“An ellipse. Instead of disappearing into interplanetary space, the projectile will probably orbit the moon in an ellipse.”

“Indeed!”

“And that it will become her satellite.”

“Moon of the moon!” cried Michel Ardan.

“Only, I would have you observe, my worthy friend,” replied Barbicane, “that we are none the less lost for that.”

“But I want you to note, my dear friend,” replied Barbicane, “that we are still just as lost.”

“Yes, in another manner, and much more pleasantly,” answered the careless Frenchman with his most amiable smile.

“Yes, in a different way, and much more pleasantly,” the carefree Frenchman replied with his most charming smile.