Authors: Robur the Conqueror
Certainly there was some good in this aeronef, which could thus help
those who were lost at sea! What balloon, perfect as it might be,
would be able to perform such a service? And between themselves Uncle
Prudent and Phil Evans could not but admire it, although they were
quite disposed to deny the evidence of their senses.
The sea was as rough as ever, and the symptoms became alarming. The
barometer fell several millimeters. The wind came in violent gusts,
and then for a moment or so failed altogether. Under such
circumstances a sailing vessel would have had to reef in her topsails
and her foresail. Everything showed that the wind was rising in the
northwest. The storm-glass became much troubled and its movements
were most disquieting.
At one o'clock in the morning the wind came on again with extreme
violence. Although the aeronef was going right in its teeth she was
still making progress at a rate of from twelve to fifteen miles an
hour. But that was the utmost she could do.
Evidently preparations must be made for a cyclone, a very rare
occurrence in these latitudes. Whether it be called a hurricane, as
in the Atlantic, a typhoon, as in Chinese waters a simoom, as in the
Sahara, or a tornado, as on the western coast, such a storm is always
a gyratory one, and most dangerous for any ship caught in the current
which increases from the circumference to the center, and has only
one spot of calm, the middle of the vortex.
Robur knew this. He also knew it was best to escape from the cyclone
and get beyond its zone of attraction by ascending to the higher
strata. Up to then he had always succeeded in doing this, but now he
had not an hour, perhaps not a minute, to lose.
In fact the violence of the wind sensibly increased. The crests of
the waves were swept off as they rose and blown into white dust on
the surface of the sea. It was manifest that the cyclone was
advancing with fearful velocity straight towards the regions of the
pole.
"Higher!" said Robur.
"Higher it is," said Tom Tumor.
An extreme ascensional power was communicated to the aeronef, and she
shot up slantingly as if she was traveling on a plane sloping
downwards from the southwest. Suddenly the barometer fell more than a
dozen millimeters and the "Albatross" paused in her ascent.
What was the cause of the stoppage? Evidently she was pulled back by
the air; some formidable current had diminished the resistance to the
screws. When a steamer travels upstream more work is got out of her
screw than when the water is running between the blades. The recoil
is then considerable, and may perhaps be as great as the current. It
was thus with the "Albatross" at this moment.
But Robur was not the man to give in. His seventy-four screws,
working perfectly together, were driven at their maximum speed. But
the aeronef could not escape; the attraction of the cyclone was
irresistible. During the few moments of calm she began to ascend, but
the heavy pull soon drew her back, and she sunk like a ship as she
founders.
Evidently if the violence of the cyclone went on increasing the
"Albatross" would be but as a straw caught in one of those whirlwinds
that root up the trees, carry off roofs, and blow down walls.
Robur and Tom could only speak by signs. Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans
clung to the rail and wondered if the cyclone was not playing their
game in destroying the aeronef and with her the inventor—and with
the inventor the secret of his invention.
But if the "Albatross" could not get out of the cyclone vertically
could she not do something else? Could she not gain the center, where
it was comparatively calm, and where they would have more control
over her? Quite so, but to do this she would have to break through
the circular currents which were sweeping her round with them. Had
she sufficient mechanical power to escape through them?
Suddenly the upper part of the cloud fell in. The vapor condensed in
torrents of rain. It was two o'clock in the morning. The barometer,
oscillating over a range of twelve millimeters, had now fallen to
27.91, and from this something should be taken on account of the
height of the aeronef above the level of the sea.
Strange to say, the cyclone was out of the zone to which such storms
are generally restricted, such zone being bounded by the thirtieth
parallel of north latitude and the twenty-sixth parallel of south
latitude. This may perhaps explain why the eddying storm suddenly
turned into a straight one. But what a hurricane! The tempest in
Connecticut on the 22nd of March, 1882, could only have been compared
to it, and the speed of that was more than three hundred miles an
hour.
The "Albatross" had thus to fly before the wind or rather she had to
be left to be driven by the current, from which she could neither
mount nor escape. But in following this unchanging trajectory she was
bearing due south, towards those polar regions which Robur had
endeavored to avoid. And now he was no longer master of her course;
she would go where the hurricane took her.
Tom Turner was at the helm, and it required all his skill to keep her
straight. In the first hours of the morning—if we can so call the
vague tint which began to rise over the horizon—the "Albatross" was
fifteen degrees below Cape Horn; twelve hundred miles more and she
would cross the antarctic circle. Where she was, in this month of
July, the night lasted nineteen hours and a half. The sun's disk—without
warmth, without light—only appeared above the horizon to
disappear almost immediately. At the pole the night lengthened into
one of a hundred and seventy-nine hours. Everything showed that the
"Albatross" was about to plunge into an abyss.
During the day an observation, had it been possible, would have given
66° 40' south latitude. The aeronef was within fourteen hundred miles
of the pole.
Irresistibly was she drawn towards this inaccessible corner of the
globe, her speed eating up, so to speak, her weight, although she
weighed less than before, owing to the flattening of the earth at the
pole. It seemed as though she could have dispensed altogether with
her suspensory screws. And soon the fury of the storm reached such a
height that Robur thought it best to reduce the speed of her helices
as much as possible, so as to avoid disaster. And only enough speed
was given to keep the aeronef under control of the rudder.
Amid these dangers the engineer retained his imperturbable coolness,
and the crew obeyed him as if their leader's mind had entered into
them. Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans had not for a moment left the
deck; they could remain without being disturbed. The air made but
slight resistance. The aeronef was like an aerostat, which drifts
with the fluid masses in which it is plunged.
Is the domain of the southern pole a continent or an archipelago? Or
is it a palaeocrystic sea, whose ice melts not even during the long
summer? We know not. But what we do know is that the southern pole is
colder than the northern one—a phenomenon due to the position of
the earth in its orbit during winter in the antarctic regions.
During this day there was nothing to show that the storm was abating.
It was by the seventy-fifth meridian to the west that the "Albatross"
crossed into the circumpolar region. By what meridian would she come
out—if she ever came out?
As she descended more to the south the length of the day diminished.
Before long she would be plunged in that continuous night which is
illuminated only by the rays of the moon or the pale streamers of the
aurora. But the moon was then new, and the companions of Robur might
see nothing of the regions whose secret has hitherto defied human
curiosity, There was not much inconvenience on board from the cold,
for the temperature was not nearly so low as was expected.
It seemed as though the hurricane was a sort of Gulf Stream, carrying
a certain amount of heat along with it.
Great was the regret that the whole region was in such profound
obscurity. Even if the moon had been in full glory but few
observations could have been made. At this season of the year an
immense curtain of snow, an icy carapace, covers up the polar
surface. There was none of that ice "blink" to be seen, that whitish
tint of which the reflection is absent from dark horizons. Under such
circumstances, how could they distinguish the shape of the ground,
the extent of the seas, the position of the islands? How could they
recognize the hydrographic network of the country or the orographic
configuration, and distinguish the hills and mountains from the
icebergs and floes?
A little after midnight an aurora illuminated the darkness. With its
silver fringes and spangles radiating over space, it seemed like a
huge fan open over half the sky. Its farthest electric effluences
were lost in the Southern Cross, whose four bright stars were
gleaming overhead. The phenomenon was one of incomparable
magnificence, and the light showed the face of the country as a
confused mass of white.
It need not be said that they had approached so near to the pole that
the compass was constantly affected, and gave no precise indication
of the course pursued. Its inclination was such that at one time
Robur felt certain they were passing over the magnetic pole
discovered by Sir James Ross. And an hour later, in calculating the
angle the needle made with the vertical, he exclaimed: "the South
Pole is beneath us!"
A white cap appeared, but nothing could be seen of what it bid under
its ice.
A few minutes afterwards the aurora died away, and the point where
all the world's meridians cross is still to be discovered.
If Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans wished to bury in the most mysterious
solitudes the aeronef and all she bore, the moment was propitious. If
they did not do so it was doubtless because the explosive they
required was still denied to them.
The hurricane still raged and swept along with such rapidity that had
a mountain been met with the aeronef would have been dashed to pieces
like a ship on a lee shore. Not only had the power gone to steer her
horizontally, but the control of her elevation had also vanished.
And it was not unlikely that mountains did exist in these antarctic
lands. Any instant a shock might happen which would destroy the
"Albatross." Such a catastrophe became more probable as the wind
shifted more to the east after they passed the prime meridian. Two
luminous points then showed themselves ahead of the "Albatross."
There were the two volcanos of the Ross Mountains—Erebus and
Terror. Was the "Albatross" to be shriveled up in their flames like a
gigantic butterfly?
An hour of intense excitement followed. One of the volcanoes, Erebus,
seemed to be rushing at the aeronef, which could not move from the
bed of the hurricane. The cloud of flame grew as they neared it. A
network of fire barred their road. A brilliant light shone round over
all. The figures on board stood out in the bright light as if come
from another world. Motionless, without a sound or a gesture, they
waited for the terrible moment when the furnace would wrap them in
its fires.
But the storm that bore the "Albatross" saved them from such a
fearful fate. The flames of Erebus were blown down by the hurricane
as it passed, and the "Albatross" flew over unhurt. She swept through
a hail of ejected material, which was fortunately kept at bay by the
centrifugal action of the suspensory screws. And she harmlessly
passed over the crater while it was in full eruption.
An hour afterwards the horizon hid from their view the two colossal
torches which light the confines of the world during the long polar
night.
At two o'clock in the morning Balleny Island was sighted on the coast
of Discovery Land, though it could not be recognized owing to its
being bound to the mainland by a cement of ice.
And the "Albatross" emerged from the polar circle on the hundred and
seventy-fifth meridian. The hurricane had carried her over the
icebergs and icefloes, against which she was in danger of being
dashed a hundred times or more. She was not in the hands of the
helmsman, but in the hand of God—and God is a good pilot.
The aeronef sped along to the north, and at the sixtieth parallel the
storm showed signs of dying away. Its violence sensibly diminished.
The "Albatross" began to come under control again. And, what was a
great comfort, had again entered the lighted regions of the globe;
and the day reappeared about eight o'clock in the morning.
Robur had been carried by the storm into the Pacific over the polar
region, accomplishing four thousand three hundred and fifty miles in
nineteen hours, or about three miles a minute, a speed almost double
that which the "Albatross" was equal to with her propellers under
ordinary circumstances. But he did not know where he then was owing
to the disturbance of the needle in the neighborhood of the magnetic
pole, and he would have to wait till the sun shone out under
convenient conditions for observation. Unfortunately, heavy clouds
covered the sky all that day and the sun did not appear.
This was a disappointment more keenly felt as both propelling screws
had sustained damage during the tempest. Robur, much disconcerted at
this accident, could only advance at a moderate speed during this
day, and when he passed over the antipodes of Paris was only going
about eighteen miles an hour. It was necessary not to aggravate the
damage to the screws, for if the propellers were rendered useless the
situation of the aeronef above the vast seas of the Pacific would be
a very awkward one. And the engineer began to consider if he could
not effect his repairs on the spot, so as to make sure of continuing
his voyage.
In the morning of the 27th of July, about seven o'clock, land was
sighted to the north. It was soon seen to be an island. But which
island was it of the thousands that dot the Pacific? However, Robur
decided to stop at it without landing. He thought, that he could
repair damages during the day and start in the evening.