by John Munro
Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreaders.
A TRIP TO VENUS
A NOVEL BY JOHN MUNRO
Author of the "The Wire and the Wave,""The Story of Electricity," etc., etc.
Published in 1897 by Jarrold & Sons, London
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. A MESSAGE FROM MARS
CHAPTER II. HOW CAN WE GET TO THE OTHER PLANETS?
CHAPTER III. A NEW FORCE
CHAPTER IV. THE ELECTRIC ORRERY
CHAPTER V. LEAVING THE EARTH
CHAPTER VI. IN SPACE
CHAPTER VII. ARRIVING IN VENUS
CHAPTER VIII. THE CRATER LAND
CHAPTER IX. THE FLOWER OF THE SOUL
CHAPTER X. ALUMION
CHAPTER XI. THE FLYING APE
CHAPTER XII. SUNWARD HO!
CHAPTER XIII. HOME AGAIN
"The heaven that rolls around cries aloud to you while it displays its eternal harmony, and yet your eyes are fixed upon the earth alone."
DANTE.
"This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse.
"Think you this mould of hopes and fears Could find no statelier than his peers In yonder hundred million spheres?"
TENNYSON.
A TRIP TO VENUS.
CHAPTER I.
A MESSAGE FROM MARS.
While I was glancing at the _Times_ newspaper in a morning train forLondon my eyes fell on the following item:--
A STRANGE LIGHT ON MARS.--On Monday afternoon, Dr. Krueger, who is in charge of the central bureau at Kiel, telegraphed to his correspondents:--
"_Projection lumineuse dans region australe du terminateur de Mars observee par Javelle 28 courant, 16 heures.--Perrotin._"
In plain English, at 4 a.m., a ray of light had been observed on thedisc of the planet Mars in or near the "terminator"; that is to say, thezone of twilight separating day from night. The news was doublyinteresting to me, because a singular dream of "Sunrise in the Moon" hadquickened my imagination as to the wonders of the universe beyond ourlittle globe, and because of a never-to-be-forgotten experience of minewith an aged astronomer several years ago.
This extraordinary man, living the life of a recluse in his ownobservatory, which was situated in a lonely part of the country, had, orat any rate, believed that he had, opened up a communication with theinhabitants of Mars, by means of powerful electric lights, flashing inthe manner of a signal-lantern or heliograph. I had set him down as amonomaniac; but who knows? perhaps he was not so crazy after all.
When evening came I turned to the books, and gathered a great deal aboutthe fiery planet, including the fact that a stout man, a Daniel Lambert,could jump his own height there with the greatest ease. Very likely; butI was seeking information on the strange light, and as I could not findany I resolved to walk over and consult my old friend, Professor Gazen,the well-known astronomer, who had made his mark by a series of splendidresearches with the spectroscope into the constitution of the sun andother celestial bodies.
It was a fine clear night. The sky was cloudless and of a deep darkblue, which revealed the highest heavens and the silvery lustre of theMilky Way. The great belt of Orion shone conspicuously in the east, andSirius blazed a living gem more to the south. I looked for Mars, andsoon found him farther to the north, a large red star, amongst the whiteof the encircling constellations.
Professor Gazen was quite alone in his observatory when I arrived, andbusily engaged in writing or computing at his desk.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you," said I, as we shook hands; "I know thatyou astronomers must work when the fine night cometh."
"Don't mention it," he replied cordially; "I'm observing one of thenebulas just now, but it won't be in sight for a long time yet."
"What about this mysterious light on Mars. Have you seen anything ofit?"
Gazen laughed.
"I have not," said he, "though I did look the other night."
"You believe that something of the kind has been seen?"
"Oh, certainly. The Nice Observatory, of which Monsieur Perrotin isdirector, has one of the finest telescopes in existence, and MonsieurJavelle is well-known for his careful work."
"How do you account for it?"
"The light is not outside the disc," responded Gazen, "else I shouldascribe it to a small comet. It may be due to an aurora in Mars as awriter in _Nature_ has suggested, or to a range of snowy Alps, or evento a bright cloud, reflecting the sunrise. Possibly the Martians haveseen the forest fires in America, and started a rival illumination."
"What strikes you as the likeliest of these notions?"
"Mountain peaks catching the sunshine."
"Might it not be the glare of a city, or a powerful search-light--inshort, a signal?"
"Oh dear, no," exclaimed the astronomer, smiling incredulously. "Theidea of signalling has got into people's heads through the outcry raisedabout it some time ago, when Mars was in 'opposition' and near theearth. I suppose you are thinking of the plan for raising and loweringthe lights of London to attract the notice of the Martians?"
"No; I believe I told you of the singular experience I had some five orsix years ago with an old astronomer, who thought he had established anoptical telegraph to Mars?"
"Oh, yes, I remember now. Ah, that poor old chap was insane. Like theastronomer in _Rasselas_, he had brooded so long in solitude over hisvisionary idea that he had come to imagine it a reality."
"Might there not be some truth in his notion? Perhaps he was only alittle before his time."
Gazen shook his head.
"You see," he replied, "Mars is a much older planet than ours. In winterthe Arctic snows extend to within forty degrees of the equator, and theclimate must be very cold. If human beings ever existed on it they musthave died out long ago, or sunk to the condition of the Eskimo."
"May not the climate be softened by conditions of land and sea unknownto us? May not the science and civilisation of the Martians enable themto cope with the low temperature?"
"The atmosphere of Mars is as rare as ours at a height of six miles, anda warm-blooded creature like man would expire in it."
"Like man, yes," I answered; "but man was made for this world. We aretoo apt to measure things by our own experience. Why should we limit thepotentiality of life by what we know of this planet?"
"In the next place," went on Gazen, ignoring my remark, "the oldastronomer's plan of signalling by strong lights was quiteimpracticable. No artificial light is capable of reaching to Mars. Thinkof the immense distance and the two atmospheres to penetrate! The manwas mad, as mad as a March hare! though why a March hare is mad I'm sureI don't know."
"I read the other day of an electric light in America which can be seen150 miles through the lower atmosphere. Such a light, if properlydirected, might be visible on Mars; and, for aught we know, the Martiansmay have discovered a still stronger beam."
"And if they have, the odds against their signalling just when we arealive to the possibility of it are simply tremendous."
"I see nothing incredible in the coincidence. Two heads often conceivethe same idea about the same time, and why not two planets, if the hourbe ripe? Surely there is one and the same inspiring Soul in all theuniverse. Besides, they may have been signalling for centuries, off andon, without our knowing it."
"Then, again," said Gazen, with a pawky twinkle in his eye, "ourelectric light may have woke them up."
"Perhaps they are signalling now," said I, "while we are wastingprecious time. I wish you would look."
"Yes, if you like; but I don't think you'll see any 'luminousprojec
tions,' human or otherwise."
"I shall see the face of Mars, anyhow, and that will be a rareexperience. It seems to me that a view of the heavenly bodies through afine telescope, as well as a tour round the world, should form a partof a liberal education. How many run to and fro upon the earth, huntingfor sights at great trouble and expense, but how few even think of thatsublimer scenery of the sky which can be seen without stirring far fromhome! A peep at some distant orb has power to raise and purify ourthoughts like a strain of sacred music, or a noble picture, or a passagefrom the grander poets. It always does one good."
Professor Gazen silently turned the great refracting telescope in thedirection of Mars, and peered attentively through its mighty tube forseveral minutes.
"Is there any light?" I inquired.
"None," he replied, shaking his head. "Look for yourself."
I took his place at the eye-piece, and was almost startled to find thelittle coppery star, which I had seen half-an-hour before, apparentlyquite near, and transformed into a large globe. It resembled a gibbousmoon, for a considerable part of its disc was illuminated by the sun.
A dazzling spot marked one of its poles, and the rest of its visiblesurface was mottled with ruddy and greenish tints which faded into whiteat the rim. Fascinated by the spectacle of that living world, seen at aglance, and pursuing its appointed course through the illimitable ether,I forgot my quest, and a religious awe came over me akin to that feltunder the dome of a vast cathedral.
"Well, what do you make of it?"
The voice recalled me to myself, and I began to scrutinise the dim andshadowy border of the terminator for the feeblest ray of light, but allin vain.
"I can't see any 'luminous projection'; but what a magnificent object inthe telescope!"
"It is indeed," rejoined the professor, "and though we have not manyopportunities of seeing it, we know it better than the other planets,and almost as well as the moon. Its features have been carefully mappedlike those of the moon, and christened after celebrated astronomers."
"Yourself included, I hope."
"No, sir; I have not that honour. It is true that a man I know, anenthusiastic amateur in astronomy, dubbed a lot of holes and corners inthe moon after his private friends and acquaintances, myself amongstthem: 'Snook's Crater,' 'Smith's Bottom,' 'Tiddler's Cove,' and so on;but I regret to say the authorities declined to sanction hisnomenclature."
"I presume that bright spot on the Southern limb is one of the polarice-caps," said I, still keeping my eye on the planet.
"Yes," replied the professor, "and they are seen to wax and wane inwinter and summer. The reddish-yellow tracts are doubtless continents ofan ochrey soil; and not, as some think, of a ruddy vegetation. Thegreenish-grey patches are probably seas and lakes. The land and waterare better mixed on Mars than on the earth--a fact which tends toequalise the climate. There is a belt of continents round the equator:'Copernicus,' 'Galileo,' 'Dawes,' and others, having long winding lakesand inlets. These are separated by narrow seas from other islands on thenorth or south, such as: 'Haze Land, 'Storm Land,' and so forth, whichoccupy what we should call the temperate zones, beneath the poles; but Isuspect they are frigid enough. If you look closely you will see somenarrow streaks crossing the continents like fractures. These are thefamous 'Canals' of Schiaparelli, who discovered (and I wish I had hiseyes) that many of them were 'doubled,' that is, had another canalalongside. Some of these are nearly 2,000 miles long, by fifty milesbroad, and 300 miles apart."
"That beats the Suez Canal."
"I am afraid they are not artificial. The doubling is chiefly observedat the vernal equinox, our month of May, and is perhaps due to springfloods, or vegetation in valleys of the like trend, as we find inSiberia. The massing of clouds or mists will account for the peculiarwhiteness at the edge of the limb, and an occasional veiling of thelandscape."
While he spoke, my attention was suddenly arrested by a vivid point oflight which appeared on the dark side of the terminator, and south ofthe equator.
"Hallo!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. "There's a light!"
"Really!" responded Gazen, in a tone of surprise, not unmingled withdoubt. "Are you sure?"
"Quite. There is a distinct light on one of the continents."
"Let me see it, will you?" he rejoined, hastily; and I yielded up myplace to him.
"Why, so there is," he declared, after a pause. "I suspect it has beenhidden under a cloud till now."
We turned and looked at each other in silence.
"It can't be the light Javelle saw," ejaculated Gazen at length. "Thatwas on Hellas Land."
"Should the Martians be signalling they would probably use a system oflights. I daresay they possess an electric telegraph to work it."
The professor put his eye to the glass again, and I awaited the resultof his observation with eager interest.
"It's as steady as possible," said he.
"The steadiness puzzles me," I replied. "If it would only flash I shouldcall it a signal."
"Not necessarily to us," said Gazen, with mock gravity. "You see, itmight be a lighthouse flashing on the Kaiser Sea, or a night message inthe autumn manoeuvres of the Martians, who are, no doubt, very warlike;or even the advertisement of a new soap."
"Seriously, what do you think of it?" I asked.
"I confess it's a mystery to me," he answered, pondering deeply; andthen, as if struck by a sudden thought, he added: "I wonder if it's anygood trying the spectroscope on it?"
So saying, he attached to the telescope a magnificent spectroscope,which he employed in his researches on the nebulae, and renewed hisobservation.
"Well, that's the most remarkable thing in all my professionalexperience," he exclaimed, resigning his place at the instrument to me.
"What is?" I demanded, looking into the spectroscope, where I coulddistinguish several faint streaks of coloured light on a darkerbackground.
"You know that we can tell the nature of a substance that is burning bysplitting up the light which comes from it in the prism of aspectroscope. Well, these bright lines of different colours are thespectrum of a luminous gas."
"Indeed! Have you any idea as to the origin of the blaze?"
"It may be electrical--for instance, an aurora. It may be a volcaniceruption, or a lake of fire such as the crater of Kilauea. Really, Ican't say. Let me see if I can identify the bright lines of thespectrum."
I yielded the spectroscope to him, and scarcely had he looked into itere he cried out--
"By all that's wonderful, the spectrum has changed. Eureka! It'sthallium now. I should know that splendid green line amongst athousand."
"Thallium!" I exclaimed, astonished in my turn.
"Yes," responded Gazen, hurriedly. "Make a note of the observation, andalso of the time. You will find a book for the purpose lying on thedesk."
I did as directed, and awaited further orders. The silence was so greatthat I could plainly hear the ticking of my watch laid on the deskbefore me. At the end of several minutes the professor cried--
"It has changed again: make another note."
"What is it now?"
"Sodium. The yellow bands are unmistakable."
A deep stillness reigned as before.
"There she goes again," exclaimed the professor, much excited. "Now Ican see a couple of blue lines. What can that be? I believe it'sindium."
Another long pause ensued.
"Now they are gone," ejaculated Gazen once more. "A red and a yellowline have taken their place. That should be lithium. Hey, presto!--andall was dark."
"What's the matter?"
"It's all over." With these words he removed the spectroscope from thetelescope, and gazed anxiously at the planet "The light is gone," hecontinued, after a minute. "Perhaps another cloud is passing over it.Well, we must wait. In the meantime let us consider the situation. Itseems to me that we have every reason to be satisfied with our night'swork. What do you think?"
There was a glow of triumph on his countenan
ce as he came and stoodbefore me.
"I believe it's a signal," said I, with an air of conviction.
"But how?"
"Why should it change so regularly? I've timed each spectrum, and foundit to last about five minutes before another took its place."
The professor remained thoughtful and silent.
"Is it not by the light which comes from them that we have gained allour knowledge of the constitution of the heavenly bodies?" I continued."A ray from the remotest star brings in its heart a secret message tohim who can read it. Now, the Martians would naturally resort to thesame medium of communication as the most obvious, simple, andpracticable. By producing a powerful light they might hope to attractour attention, and by imbuing it with characteristic spectra, easilyrecognised and changed at intervals, they would distinguish the lightfrom every other, and show us that it must have had an intelligentorigin."
"What then?"
"We should know that the Martians had a civilisation at least as high asour own. To my mind, that would be a great discovery--the greatest sincethe world began."
"But of little use to either party."
"As for that, a good many of our discoveries, especially in astronomy,are not of much use. Suppose you find out the chemical composition ofthe nebulae you are studying, will that lower the price of bread? No; butit will interest and enlighten us. If the Martians can tell us what Marsis made of, and we can return the compliment as regards the earth, thatwill be a service."
"But the correspondence must then cease, as the editors say."
"I'm not so sure of that."
"My dear fellow! How on earth are we to understand what the Martianssay, and how on Mars are they to understand what we say? We have nocommon code."
"True; but the chemical bodies have certain well-defined properties,have they not?"
"Yes. Each has a peculiarity marking it from all the rest. For example,two or more may resemble each other in colour or hardness, but not inweight."
"Precisely. Now, by comparing their spectra can we not be led todistinguish a particular quality, and grasp the idea of it? In short,can the Martians not impress that idea on us by theirspectro-telegraph?"
"I see what you mean," said Professor Gazen; "and, now I think of it,all the spectra we have seen belong to the group called 'metals of thealkalies and alkaline earths,' which, of course, have distinctiveproperties."
"At first, I should think the Martians would only try to attract ournotice by striking spectra."
"Lithium is the lightest metal known to us."
"Well, we might get the idea of 'lightness' from that."
"Sodium," continued the professor, "sodium is a very soft metal, with sostrong an affinity for oxygen that it burns in water. Manganese, whichbelongs to the 'iron group,' is hard enough to scratch glass; and, likeiron, is decidedly magnetic. Copper is red--"
"The signals for colour we might get from the spectra direct."
"Mercury or quicksilver is fluid at ordinary temperatures, and thatmight lead us to the idea of movement--animation--life itself."
"Having got certain fundamental ideas," I went on, "by combining thesewe might arrive at other distinct conceptions. We might build up anideographic or glyphic language of signs--the signs being spectra. Thenumerals might be telegraphed by simple occultations of the light. Thenfrom spectra we might pass by an easy step to equivalent signals oflong and short flashes in various combinations, also made by occultingthe light. With such a code, our correspondence might go on at greatlength, and present no difficulty; but, of course, we must be able toreply."
"If the Martians are as clever as you are pleased to imagine, we oughtto learn a good deal from them."
"I hope we may, and I'm sure the world will be all the better for alittle superior enlightenment on some points."
"Well, we must follow the matter up, at all events," said the professor,taking another peep through the telescope. "For the present the Martianphilosophers appear to have shut up shop; and, as my nebula has nowrisen, I should like to do a little work on it before daybreak. Lookhere, if it's a fine night, can you join me to-morrow? We shall thencontinue our observations; but, in the meanwhile, you had better saynothing about them."
On my way home I looked for the ruddy planet as I had done in theearlier part of the night, but with very different feelings in my heart.The ice of distance and isolation separating me from it seemed to havebroken down since then, and instead of a cold and alien star, I saw afriendly and familiar world--a companion to our own in the eternalsolitude of the universe.