A Journey in Other Worlds [61]
when closed, made the Callisto rather
warm--and placed a stout wire netting within them to keep out
birds and bats, and then, though it was but little past noon, got
into their comfortable beds and slept nine hours at a stretch.
Their strong metal house was securely at rest, receiving the
sunlight and shedding the rain and dew as it might have done on
earth. No winds or storms, lightnings or floods, could trouble
it, while the multiformed monsters of antiquity and mythology
restored in life, with which the terrestrials had been thrown
into such close contact, roamed about its polished walls. Not
even the fiercest could affect them, and they would but see
themselves reflected in any vain assaults. The domed symmetrical
cylinder stood there as a monument to human ingenuity and skill,
and the travellers' last thought as they fell asleep was, "Man is
really lord of creation."
The following day at about noon they awoke, and had a bath in the
warm pool. They saw the armoured mass of the great ant evidently
undisturbed, while the bodies of its victims were already shining
skeletons, and raised a small cairn of stones in memory of the
struggle they had had there.
"We should name this place Kentucky," said Bearwarden, "for it is
indeed a dark and bloody ground," and, seeing the aptness of the
appellation, they entered it so on their charts. While Ayrault
got the batteries in shape for resuming work. Bearwarden
prepared a substantial breakfast. This consisted of oatmeal and
cream kept hermetically sealed in glass, a dish of roast grouse,
coffee, pilot bread, a bottle of Sauterne, and another of Rhine
wine.
"This is the last meal we shall take hereabouts," said their
cook, as they plied their knives and forks beneath the trees, "so
here is a toast to our adventures, and to all the game we have
killed." They drained their glasses in drinking this, after
which Bearwarden regaled them with the latest concert-hall song
which he had at his tongue's end.
About an hour before dark they re-entered their projectile, and,
as a mark of respect to their little ship, named the great branch
of the continent on which they had alighted Callisto Point. They
then got under way. The batteries had to develop almost their
maximum power to overcome Jupiter's attraction; but they were
equal to the task, and the Callisto was soon in the air.
Directing their apergy to the mountains towards the interior of
the continent, and applying repulsion to any ridge or hill over
which they passed, thereby easing the work of the batteries
engaged in supporting the Callisto, they were soon sweeping along
at seventy-five to one hundred miles an hour. By keeping the
projectile just strongly enough charged to neutralize
gravitation, they remained for the most part within two hundred
feet of the ground, seldom rising to an altitude of more than a
mile, and were therefore able to keep the windows at the sides
open and so obtain an unobstructed view. If, however, at any
time they felt oppressed by Jupiter's high barometric pressure,
and preferred the terrestrial conditions, they had but to rise
till the barometer fell to thirty. Then, if an object of
interest recalled them to sea-level, they could keep the
Callisto's inside pressure at what they found on the Jovian
mountains, by screwing up the windows. On account of the
distance of sixty-four thousand miles from Jupiter's equator to
the pole, they calculated that going at the speed of a hundred
miles an hour, night and day, it would take them twenty-five
terrestrial days to reach the pole even from latitude two degrees
at which they started. But they knew that, if pressed for time,
they could rise above the limits of the atmosphere, and move with
planetary speed; while, if they wished a still easier method of
pursuing their observation, they had but to remain poised between
the sun and Jupiter, beyond the latter's upper air, and
photograph or map it as it revolved before them.
By sunset they had gone a hundred miles.
warm--and placed a stout wire netting within them to keep out
birds and bats, and then, though it was but little past noon, got
into their comfortable beds and slept nine hours at a stretch.
Their strong metal house was securely at rest, receiving the
sunlight and shedding the rain and dew as it might have done on
earth. No winds or storms, lightnings or floods, could trouble
it, while the multiformed monsters of antiquity and mythology
restored in life, with which the terrestrials had been thrown
into such close contact, roamed about its polished walls. Not
even the fiercest could affect them, and they would but see
themselves reflected in any vain assaults. The domed symmetrical
cylinder stood there as a monument to human ingenuity and skill,
and the travellers' last thought as they fell asleep was, "Man is
really lord of creation."
The following day at about noon they awoke, and had a bath in the
warm pool. They saw the armoured mass of the great ant evidently
undisturbed, while the bodies of its victims were already shining
skeletons, and raised a small cairn of stones in memory of the
struggle they had had there.
"We should name this place Kentucky," said Bearwarden, "for it is
indeed a dark and bloody ground," and, seeing the aptness of the
appellation, they entered it so on their charts. While Ayrault
got the batteries in shape for resuming work. Bearwarden
prepared a substantial breakfast. This consisted of oatmeal and
cream kept hermetically sealed in glass, a dish of roast grouse,
coffee, pilot bread, a bottle of Sauterne, and another of Rhine
wine.
"This is the last meal we shall take hereabouts," said their
cook, as they plied their knives and forks beneath the trees, "so
here is a toast to our adventures, and to all the game we have
killed." They drained their glasses in drinking this, after
which Bearwarden regaled them with the latest concert-hall song
which he had at his tongue's end.
About an hour before dark they re-entered their projectile, and,
as a mark of respect to their little ship, named the great branch
of the continent on which they had alighted Callisto Point. They
then got under way. The batteries had to develop almost their
maximum power to overcome Jupiter's attraction; but they were
equal to the task, and the Callisto was soon in the air.
Directing their apergy to the mountains towards the interior of
the continent, and applying repulsion to any ridge or hill over
which they passed, thereby easing the work of the batteries
engaged in supporting the Callisto, they were soon sweeping along
at seventy-five to one hundred miles an hour. By keeping the
projectile just strongly enough charged to neutralize
gravitation, they remained for the most part within two hundred
feet of the ground, seldom rising to an altitude of more than a
mile, and were therefore able to keep the windows at the sides
open and so obtain an unobstructed view. If, however, at any
time they felt oppressed by Jupiter's high barometric pressure,
and preferred the terrestrial conditions, they had but to rise
till the barometer fell to thirty. Then, if an object of
interest recalled them to sea-level, they could keep the
Callisto's inside pressure at what they found on the Jovian
mountains, by screwing up the windows. On account of the
distance of sixty-four thousand miles from Jupiter's equator to
the pole, they calculated that going at the speed of a hundred
miles an hour, night and day, it would take them twenty-five
terrestrial days to reach the pole even from latitude two degrees
at which they started. But they knew that, if pressed for time,
they could rise above the limits of the atmosphere, and move with
planetary speed; while, if they wished a still easier method of
pursuing their observation, they had but to remain poised between
the sun and Jupiter, beyond the latter's upper air, and
photograph or map it as it revolved before them.
By sunset they had gone a hundred miles.