Chapter XX

Well, lieutenant, and our soundings?"
"I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its completion,"
replied Lieutenant Bronsfield.  "But who would have thought of
finding such a depth so near in shore, and only 200 miles from
the American coast?"
"Certainly, Bronsfield, there is a great depression," said
Captain Blomsberry.  "In this spot there is a submarine valley
worn by Humboldt's current, which skirts the coast of America as
far as the Straits of Magellan."
"These great depths," continued the lieutenant, "are not
favorable for laying telegraphic cables.  A level bottom, like
that supporting the American cable between Valentia and
Newfoundland, 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 the
ball which draws the sounding lead has not yet touched the
bottom; 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," replied
the lieutenant, entering it in his notebook.
"Well, Bronsfield," said the captain, "I will take down
the result.  Now haul in the sounding line.  It will be the
work of some hours.  In that time the engineer can light the
furnaces, and we shall be ready to start as soon as you
have 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, and
the humble servant of his officers, returned to his cabin, took
a brandy-grog, which earned for the steward no end of praise,
and turned in, not without having complimented his servant upon
his making beds, and slept a peaceful sleep.
It was then ten at night.  The eleventh day of the month of
December was drawing to a close in a magnificent night.
The Susquehanna, a corvette of 500 horse-power, of the United
States navy, was occupied in taking soundings in the Pacific
Ocean about 200 miles off the American coast, following that
long peninsula which stretches down the coast of Mexico.
The wind had dropped by degrees.  There was no disturbance in
the air.  The pennant hung motionless from the maintop-gallant-
mast truck.
Captain Jonathan Blomsberry (cousin-german of Colonel
Blomsberry, one of the most ardent supporters of the Gun Club,
who had married an aunt of the captain and daughter of an
honorable Kentucky merchant)-- Captain Blomsberry could not have
wished for finer weather in which to bring to a close his
delicate operations of sounding.  His corvette had not even felt
the great tempest, which by sweeping away the groups of clouds
on the Rocky Mountains, had allowed them to observe the course
of 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 of
soundings taken by the Susquehanna, had for its aim the finding
of a favorable spot for the laying of a submarine cable to
connect the Hawaiian Islands with the coast of America.
It was a great undertaking, due to the instigation of a
powerful company.  Its managing director, the intelligent Cyrus
Field, purposed even covering all the islands of Oceanica with
a vast electrical network, an immense enterprise, and one worthy
of American genius.
To the corvette Susquehanna had been confided the first
operations of sounding.  It was on the night of the 11th-12th of
December, she was in exactly 27° 7' north latitude, and 41° 37'
west longitude, on the meridian of Washington.
The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to rise above
the horizon.
After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieutenant and
some officers were standing together on the poop.  On the
appearance of the moon, their thoughts turned to that orb which
the eyes of a whole hemisphere were contemplating.  The best
naval glasses could not have discovered the projectile wandering
around its hemisphere, and yet all were pointed toward that
brilliant disc which millions of eyes were looking at at the
same moment.
"They have been gone ten days," said Lieutenant Bronsfield
at 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 a
new 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 cannot
be doubted.  The projectile was to reach the moon when full
on the 5th at midnight.  We are now at the 11th of December, which
makes six days.  And in six times twenty-four hours, without
darkness, one would have time to settle comfortably.  I fancy I
see my brave countrymen encamped at the bottom of some valley,
on the borders of a Selenite stream, near a projectile half-buried
by its fall amid volcanic rubbish, Captain Nicholl beginning his
leveling operations, President Barbicane writing out his notes,
and Michel Ardan embalming the lunar solitudes with the perfume
of his----"
"Yes! it must be so, it is so!" exclaimed the young midshipman,
worked up to a pitch of enthusiasm by this ideal description of
his superior officer.
"I should like to believe it," replied the lieutenant, who was
quite unmoved.  "Unfortunately direct news from the lunar world
is still wanting."
"Beg pardon, lieutenant," said the midshipman, "but cannot
President Barbicane write?"
A burst of laughter greeted this answer.
"No letters!" continued the young man quickly.  "The postal
administration 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 with
the earth."
"And how?"
"By means of the telescope at Long's Peak.  You know it brings
the moon to within four miles of the Rocky Mountains, and that
it shows objects on its surface of only nine feet in diameter.
Very well; let our industrious friends construct a giant
alphabet; let them write words three fathoms long, and sentences
three 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 the
idea was possible, but observing that if by these means they
could receive news from the lunar world they could not send any
from the terrestrial, unless the Selenites had instruments fit
for taking distant observations at their disposal.
"Evidently," said one of the officers; "but what has become of
the travelers? what they have done, what they have seen, that
above all must interest us.  Besides, if the experiment has
succeeded (which I do not doubt), they will try it again.
The Columbiad is still sunk in the soil of Florida.  It is now
only a question of powder and shot; and every time the moon is
at her zenith a cargo of visitors may be sent to her."
"It is clear," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that J. T. Maston
will one day join his friends."
"If he will have me," cried the midshipman, "I am ready!"
"Oh! volunteers will not be wanting," answered Bronsfield; "and
if it were allowed, half of the earth's inhabitants would
emigrate to the moon!"
This conversation between the officers of the Susquehanna was
kept up until nearly one in the morning.  We cannot say what
blundering systems were broached, what inconsistent theories
advanced by these bold spirits.  Since Barbicane's attempt,
nothing seemed impossible to the Americans.  They had already
designed an expedition, not only of savants, but of a whole
colony toward the Selenite borders, and a complete army,
consisting of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, to conquer the
lunar world.
At one in the morning, the hauling in of the sounding-line was
not yet completed; 1,670 fathoms were still out, which would
entail 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 the
morning) Lieutenant Bronsfield was preparing to leave the watch
and return to his cabin, when his attention was attracted by a
distant hissing noise.  His comrades and himself first thought
that this hissing was caused by the letting off of steam; but
lifting their heads, they found that the noise was produced in
the highest regions of the air.  They had not time to question
each other before the hissing became frightfully intense, and
suddenly there appeared to their dazzled eyes an enormous
meteor, ignited by the rapidity of its course and its friction
through the atmospheric strata.
This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes, and fell, with
the noise of thunder, upon the bowsprit, which it smashed close
to the stem, and buried itself in the waves with a deafening roar!
A few feet nearer, and the Susquehanna would have foundered with
all on board!
At this instant Captain Blomsberry appeared, half-dressed, and
rushing on to the forecastle-deck, whither all the officers had
hurried, exclaimed, "With your permission, gentlemen, what
has happened?"
And the midshipman, making himself as it were the echo of the
body, cried, "Commander, it is `they' come back again!"