CHAPTER XX

  THE SOUNDINGS OF THE SUSQUEHANNA

  Well, lieutenant, and our soundings?"

  "I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its completion,"replied Lieutenant Bronsfield. "But who would have thought offinding such a depth so near in shore, and only 200 miles fromthe American coast?"

  "Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great depression," saidCaptain Blomsberry. "In this spot there is a submarine valleyworn by Humboldt's current, which skirts the coast of America asfar as the Straits of Magellan."

  "These great depths," continued the lieutenant, "are notfavorable for laying telegraphic cables. A level bottom, likethat supporting the American cable between Valentia andNewfoundland, is much better."

  "I agree with you, Bronsfield. With your permission,lieutenant, where are we now?"

  "Sir, at this moment we have 3,508 fathoms of line out, and theball which draws the sounding lead has not yet touched thebottom; for if so, it would have come up of itself."

  "Brook's apparatus is very ingenious," said Captain Blomsberry;"it gives us very exact soundings."

  "Touch!" cried at this moment one of the men at the forewheel,who was superintending the operation.

  The captain and the lieutenant mounted the quarterdeck.

  "What depth have we?" asked the captain.

  "Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fathoms," repliedthe lieutenant, entering it in his notebook.

  "Well, Bronsfield," said the captain, "I will take downthe result. Now haul in the sounding line. It will be thework of some hours. In that time the engineer can light thefurnaces, and we shall be ready to start as soon as youhave finished. It is ten o'clock, and with your permission,lieutenant, I will turn in."

  "Do so, sir; do so!" replied the lieutenant obligingly.

  The captain of the Susquehanna, as brave a man as need be, andthe humble servant of his officers, returned to his cabin, tooka brandy-grog, which earned for the steward no end of praise,and turned in, not without having complimented his servant uponhis making beds, and slept a peaceful sleep.

  It was then ten at night. The eleventh day of the month ofDecember was drawing to a close in a magnificent night.

  The Susquehanna, a corvette of 500 horse-power, of the UnitedStates navy, was occupied in taking soundings in the PacificOcean about 200 miles off the American coast, following thatlong peninsula which stretches down the coast of Mexico.

  The wind had dropped by degrees. There was no disturbance inthe air. The pennant hung motionless from the maintop-gallant-mast truck.

  Captain Jonathan Blomsberry (cousin-german of ColonelBlomsberry, one of the most ardent supporters of the Gun Club,who had married an aunt of the captain and daughter of anhonorable Kentucky merchant)-- Captain Blomsberry could not havewished for finer weather in which to bring to a close hisdelicate operations of sounding. His corvette had not even feltthe great tempest, which by sweeping away the groups of cloudson the Rocky Mountains, had allowed them to observe the courseof the famous projectile.

  Everything went well, and with all the fervor of a Presbyterian,he did not forget to thank heaven for it. The series ofsoundings taken by the Susquehanna, had for its aim the findingof a favorable spot for the laying of a submarine cable toconnect the Hawaiian Islands with the coast of America.

  It was a great undertaking, due to the instigation of apowerful company. Its managing director, the intelligent CyrusField, purposed even covering all the islands of Oceanica witha vast electrical network, an immense enterprise, and one worthyof American genius.

  To the corvette Susquehanna had been confided the firstoperations of sounding. It was on the night of the 11th-12th ofDecember, she was in exactly [email protected] 7' north latitude, and [email protected] 37'west longitude, on the meridian of Washington.

  The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to rise abovethe horizon.

  After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieutenant andsome officers were standing together on the poop. On theappearance of the moon, their thoughts turned to that orb whichthe eyes of a whole hemisphere were contemplating. The bestnaval glasses could not have discovered the projectile wanderingaround its hemisphere, and yet all were pointed toward thatbrilliant disc which millions of eyes were looking at at thesame moment.

  "They have been gone ten days," said Lieutenant Bronsfieldat last. "What has become of them?"

  "They have arrived, lieutenant," exclaimed a young midshipman,"and they are doing what all travelers do when they arrive in anew country, taking a walk!"

  "Oh! I am sure of that, if you tell me so, my young friend,"said Lieutenant Bronsfield, smiling.

  "But," continued another officer, "their arrival cannotbe doubted. The projectile was to reach the moon when fullon the 5th at midnight. We are now at the 11th of December, whichmakes six days. And in six times twenty-four hours, withoutdarkness, one would have time to settle comfortably. I fancy Isee my brave countrymen encamped at the bottom of some valley,on the borders of a Selenite stream, near a projectile half-buriedby its fall amid volcanic rubbish, Captain Nicholl beginning hisleveling operations, President Barbicane writing out his notes,and Michel Ardan embalming the lunar solitudes with the perfumeof his----"

  "Yes! it must be so, it is so!" exclaimed the young midshipman,worked up to a pitch of enthusiasm by this ideal description ofhis superior officer.

  "I should like to believe it," replied the lieutenant, who wasquite unmoved. "Unfortunately direct news from the lunar worldis still wanting."

  "Beg pardon, lieutenant," said the midshipman, "but cannotPresident Barbicane write?"

  A burst of laughter greeted this answer.

  "No letters!" continued the young man quickly. "The postaladministration has something to see to there."

  "Might it not be the telegraphic service that is at fault?"asked one of the officers ironically.

  "Not necessarily," replied the midshipman, not at all confused."But it is very easy to set up a graphic communication withthe earth."

  "And how?"

  "By means of the telescope at Long's Peak. You know it bringsthe moon to within four miles of the Rocky Mountains, and thatit shows objects on its surface of only nine feet in diameter.Very well; let our industrious friends construct a giantalphabet; let them write words three fathoms long, and sentencesthree miles long, and then they can send us news of themselves."

  The young midshipman, who had a certain amount of imagination,was loudly applauded; Lieutenant Bronsfield allowing that theidea was possible, but observing that if by these means theycould receive news from the lunar world they could not send anyfrom the terrestrial, unless the Selenites had instruments fitfor taking distant observations at their disposal.

  "Evidently," said one of the officers; "but what has become ofthe travelers? what they have done, what they have seen, thatabove all must interest us. Besides, if the experiment hassucceeded (which I do not doubt), they will try it again.The Columbiad is still sunk in the soil of Florida. It is nowonly a question of powder and shot; and every time the moon isat her zenith a cargo of visitors may be sent to her."

  "It is clear," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that J. T. Mastonwill one day join his friends."

  "If he will have me," cried the midshipman, "I am ready!"

  "Oh! volunteers will not be wanting," answered Bronsfield; "andif it were allowed, half of the earth's inhabitants wouldemigrate to the moon!"

  This conversation between the officers of the Susquehanna waskept up until nearly one in the morning. We cannot say whatblundering systems were broached, what inconsistent theoriesadvanced by these bold spirits. Since Barbicane's attempt,nothing seemed impossible to the Americans. They had alreadydesigned an expedition, not only of savants, but of a wholecolony toward the Selenite borders, and a complete army,consisting of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, to conquer thelunar world.

  At one in the morning, the hauling in of the sounding-line wasnot yet completed; 1,670 fathoms were still out, which woulden
tail some hours' work. According to the commander's orders,the fires had been lighted, and steam was being got up.The Susquehanna could have started that very instant.

  At that moment (it was seventeen minutes past one in themorning) Lieutenant Bronsfield was preparing to leave the watchand return to his cabin, when his attention was attracted by adistant hissing noise. His comrades and himself first thoughtthat this hissing was caused by the letting off of steam; butlifting their heads, they found that the noise was produced inthe highest regions of the air. They had not time to questioneach other before the hissing became frightfully intense, andsuddenly there appeared to their dazzled eyes an enormousmeteor, ignited by the rapidity of its course and its frictionthrough the atmospheric strata.

  This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes, and fell, withthe noise of thunder, upon the bowsprit, which it smashed closeto the stem, and buried itself in the waves with a deafening roar!

  A few feet nearer, and the Susquehanna would have foundered withall on board!

  At this instant Captain Blomsberry appeared, half-dressed, andrushing on to the forecastle-deck, whither all the officers hadhurried, exclaimed, "With your permission, gentlemen, whathas happened?"

  And the midshipman, making himself as it were the echo of thebody, cried, "Commander, it is `they' come back again!"