Off on a Comet! a Journey through Planetary Space
the prospect was not unmixed with alarm, and they would rejoice in the
invention of any device by which it was likely the impetus of the shock
might be deadened.
Christmas arrived, and was marked by appropriate religious observance
by everyone in the community, with the exception of the Jew, who made
a point of secluding himself more obstinately than ever in the gloomy
recesses of his retreat.
To Ben Zoof the last week of the year was full of bustle. The
arrangements for the New Year _fete_ were entrusted to him, and he was
anxious, in spite of the resources of Gallia being so limited, to make
the program for the great day as attractive as possible.
It was a matter of debate that night whether the professor should be
invited to join the party; it was scarcely likely that he would care
to come, but, on the whole, it was felt to be advisable to ask him. At
first Captain Servadac thought of going in person with the invitation;
but, remembering Rosette’s dislike to visitors, he altered his mind, and
sent young Pablo up to the observatory with a formal note, requesting
the pleasure of Professor Rosette’s company at the New Year’s _fete_.
Pablo was soon back, bringing no answer except that the professor had
told him that “to-day was the 125th of June, and that to-morrow would be
the 1st of July.”
Consequently, Servadac and the count took it for granted that Palmyrin
Rosette declined their invitation.
An hour after sunrise on New Year’s Day, Frenchmen, Russians, Spaniards,
and little Nina, as the representative of Italy, sat down to a feast
such as never before had been seen in Gallia. Ben Zoof and the Russian
cook had quite surpassed themselves. The wines, part of the _Dobryna’s_
stores, were of excellent quality. Those of the vintages of France and
Spain were drunk in toasting their respective countries, and even Russia
was honored in a similar way by means of a few bottles of kummel. The
company was more than contented--it was as jovial as Ben Zoof could
desire; and the ringing cheers that followed the great toast of the
day--“A happy return to our Mother Earth,” must fairly have startled the
professor in the silence of his observatory.
The _dejeuner_ over, there still remained three hours of daylight. The
sun was approaching the zenith, but so dim and enfeebled were his rays
that they were very unlike what had produced the wines of Bordeaux and
Burgundy which they had just been enjoying, and it was necessary for
all, before starting upon an excursion that would last over nightfall,
to envelop themselves in the thickest of clothing.
Full of spirits, the party left the Hive, and chattering and singing as
they went, made their way down to the frozen shore, where they fastened
on their skates. Once upon the ice, everyone followed his own fancy,
and some singly, some in groups, scattered themselves in all directions.
Captain Servadac, the count, and the lieutenant were generally seen
together. Negrete and the Spaniards, now masters of their novel
exercise, wandered fleetly and gracefully hither and thither,
occasionally being out of sight completely. The Russian sailors,
following a northern custom, skated in file, maintaining their rank by
means of a long pole passed under their right arms, and in this way they
described a trackway of singular regularity. The two children, blithe
as birds, flitted about, now singly, now arm-in-arm, now joining the
captain’s party, now making a short peregrination by themselves, but
always full of life and spirit. As for Ben Zoof, he was here, there,
and everywhere, his imperturbable good temper ensuring him a smile of
welcome whenever he appeared.
Thus coursing rapidly over the icy plain, the whole party had soon
exceeded the line that made the horizon from the shore. First, the rocks
of the coast were lost to view; then the white crests of the cliffs were
no longer to be seen; and at last, the summit of the volcano, with its
corona of vapor, was entirely out of sight. Occasionally the skaters
were obliged to stop to recover their breath, but, fearful of
frost-bite, they almost instantly resumed their exercise, and proceeded
nearly as far as Gourbi Island before they thought about retracing their
course.
But night was coming on, and the sun was already sinking in the east
with the rapidity to which the residents on Gallia were by this time
well accustomed. The sunset upon this contracted horizon was very
remarkable. There was not a cloud nor a vapor to catch the tints of the
declining beams; the surface of the ice did not, as a liquid sea would,
reflect the last green ray of light; but the radiant orb, enlarged by
the effect of refraction, its circumference sharply defined against the
sky, sank abruptly, as though a trap had been opened in the ice for its
reception.
Before the daylight ended. Captain Servadac had cautioned the party to
collect themselves betimes into one group. “Unless you are sure of your
whereabouts before dark,” he said, “you will not find it after. We have
come out like a party of skirmishers; let us go back in full force.”
The night would be dark; their moon was in conjunction, and would not be
seen; the stars would only give something of that “pale radiance” which
the poet Corneille has described.
Immediately after sunset the torches were lighted, and the long series
of flames, fanned by the rapid motion of their bearers, had much the
appearance of an enormous fiery banner. An hour later, and the volcano
appeared like a dim shadow on the horizon, the light from the crater
shedding a lurid glare upon the surrounding gloom. In time the glow of
the burning lava, reflected in the icy mirror, fell upon the troop of
skaters, and cast their lengthened shadows grotesquely on the surface of
the frozen sea.
Later still, half an hour or more afterwards, the torches were all but
dying out. The shore was close at hand. All at once, Ben Zoof uttered
a startled cry, and pointed with bewildered excitement towards the
mountain. Involuntarily, one and all, they plowed their heels into the
ice and came to a halt. Exclamations of surprise and horror burst from
every lip. The volcano was extinguished! The stream of burning lava had
suddenly ceased to flow!
Speechless with amazement, they stood still for some moments. There was
not one of them that did not realize, more or less, how critical was
their position. The sole source of the heat that had enabled them to
brave the rigor of the cold had failed them! death, in the cruellest of
all shapes, seemed staring them in the face--death from cold! Meanwhile,
the last torch had flickered out.
It was quite dark.
“Forward!” cried Servadac, firmly.
At the word of command they advanced to the shore; clambered with
no little difficulty up the slippery rocks; gained the mouth of the
gallery; groped their way into the common hall.
How dreary! how chill it seemed!
The fiery cataract no longer spread its glowing covering over the mouth
of the grotto. Lieutenant Procope leaned through the aperture. The pool,
hitherto kept fluid by its proximity to the lava, was already encrusted
with a layer of ice.
Such was the end of the New Year’s Day so happily begun.
CHAPTER XII. THE BOWELS OF THE COMET
The whole night was spent in speculating, with gloomy forebodings, upon
the chances of the future. The temperature of the hall, now entirely
exposed to the outer air, was rapidly falling, and would quickly become
unendurable. Far too intense was the cold to allow anyone to remain at
the opening, and the moisture on the walls soon resolved itself into
icicles. But the mountain was like the body of a dying man, that retains
awhile a certain amount of heat at the heart after the extremities have
become cold and dead. In the more interior galleries there was still a
certain degree of warmth, and hither Servadac and his companions were
glad enough to retreat.
Here they found the professor, who, startled by the sudden cold, had
been fain to make a precipitate retreat from his observatory. Now would
have been the opportunity to demand of the enthusiast whether he would
like to prolong his residence indefinitely upon his little comet. It is
very likely that he would have declared himself ready to put up with any
amount of discomfort to be able to gratify his love of investigation;
but all were far too disheartened and distressed to care to banter him
upon the subject on which he was so sensitive.
Next morning, Servadac thus addressed his people. “My friends, except
from cold, we have nothing to fear. Our provisions are ample--more than
enough for the remaining period of our sojourn in this lone world of
ours; our preserved meat is already cooked; we shall be able to
dispense with all fuel for cooking purposes. All that we require is
warmth--warmth for ourselves; let us secure that, and all may be well.
Now, I do not entertain a doubt but that the warmth we require is
resident in the bowels of this mountain on which we are living; to
the depth of those bowels we must penetrate; there we shall obtain the
warmth which is indispensable to our very existence.”
His tone, quite as much as his words, restored confidence to many of his
people, who were already yielding to a feeling of despair. The count and
the lieutenant fervently, but silently, grasped his hand.
“Nina,” said the captain, “you will not be afraid to go down to the
lower depths of the mountain, will you?”
“Not if Pablo goes,” replied the child.
“Oh yes, of course, Pablo will go. You are not afraid to go, are you,
Pablo?” he said, addressing the boy.
“Anywhere with you, your Excellency,” was the boy’s prompt reply.
And certain it was that no time must be lost in penetrating below
the heart of the volcano; already the most protected of the many
ramifications of Nina’s Hive were being pervaded by a cold that was
insufferable. It was an acknowledged impossibility to get access to the
crater by the exterior declivities of the mountain-side; they were far
too steep and too slippery to afford a foothold. It must of necessity be
entered from the interior.
Lieutenant Procope accordingly undertook the task of exploring all the
galleries, and was soon able to report that he had discovered one which
he had every reason to believe abutted upon the central funnel. His
reason for coming to this conclusion was that the caloric emitted by the
rising vapors of the hot lava seemed to be oozing, as it were, out of
the tellurium, which had been demonstrated already to be a conductor
of heat. Only succeed in piercing through this rock for seven or eight
yards, and the lieutenant did not doubt that his way would be opened
into the old lava-course, by following which he hoped descent would be
easy.
Under the lieutenant’s direction the Russian sailors were immediately
set to work. Their former experience had convinced them that spades and
pick-axes were of no avail, and their sole resource was to proceed
by blasting with gunpowder. However skillfully the operation might be
carried on, it must necessarily occupy several days, and during that
time the sufferings from cold must be very severe.
“If we fail in our object, and cannot get to the depths of the mountain,
our little colony is doomed,” said Count Timascheff.
“That speech is not like yourself,” answered Servadac, smiling. “What
has become of the faith which has hitherto carried you so bravely
through all our difficulties?”
The count shook his head, as if in despair, and said, sadly, “The Hand
that has hitherto been outstretched to help seems now to be withdrawn.”
“But only to test our powers of endurance,” rejoined the captain,
earnestly. “Courage, my friend, courage! Something tells me that this
cessation of the eruption is only partial; the internal fire is not all