The Secret of the Earth

The night was dark, there being no moon, and the sky overcast, beside which the air was misty. We kept our position well above all mast-heads, should there be any, and took extra precaution to prevent a certain nimbus-like reflection against the mist by putting out the lights as soon as supper was over.

Torrence touched his controller, and we rose to our former altitude, remarking that our course only insured us against collision with steamers; and that sailing ships were liable to be found wherever there was water enough to float them.

"And there is no danger of dropping to a lower level unawares?" I asked.

"Such a thing is impossible!" he replied. "The air ship has just such an antipathy for earth as her vibrations impart. It is like the negative pole of a magnet, and unless my controllers move of their own accord, which is an impossibility, the vessel must remain upon just such a plane as I put her."

"How about our being discovered in the morning? Will you run up into the clouds again?"

"No," he said, "let them discover us. I was only anxious to delude those Hullites into the belief that we had really gone back to London. If we are seen to-morrow, they won't find it out until the next day, and they are welcome to all the satisfaction it will give them. One thing is certain; they will never follow where we are going!"

"No," I replied, "not if we succeed in reaching the Pole!"

"There is no if in this matter," said Torrence, "for straight through the Arctic regions we go, and without many stations either. I know the road. We 've got the machine. We're stocked with provisions and clothing. The great mystery will be solved at last. By the by, old man, hadn't you better keep a record of our trip?"

"Decidedly!" I replied.

From that time, whenever possible, I wrote up the account of this voyage, beginning with our landing in London; and the present voluminous paper is the result.

At 11 o'clock Torrence insisted on my going below to bed, while he continued the watch above. It was a strange sensation, this crawling into a bunk to sleep on an air ship, but I was exhausted with the excitement of the day, and soon fell into a sound slumber, rocked by the gentle swaying of the car. Nothing could have been more soothing than the situation; though why I should have felt no fear of falling was a mystery, possibly induced by the negation of gravity which pervaded all my surroundings, and perhaps, to a certain extent, even penetrated my own body; though this is only a surmise.

If I dreamed, I do not know it, but was awakened while it was still dark by the sound of music. Sitting up, I listened in amazement. Several instruments were distinctly audible, and these were accompanied by half a dozen voices. Probably every one is familiar with the ravishing charm of music while sleeping, and I awoke enraptured with this unearthly fascination, believing at first that the sound had only been in my dreams; but to my amazement it continued. I recalled immediately where I was, and my astonishment was only increased on remembering our singular isolation. There could be no doubt about it – there were musical instruments, and there were human voices – but where out of heaven or earth did they come from. Slowly I crawled down from my bunk and groped my way through the dividing curtains to Torrence's; but he was not there. I thought it must be nearly morning but evidently he had not come to bed. Had he crossed the North Sea and landed without my knowledge? I could not believe it; nor could I think that we had returned to England. I pinched myself and bit my finger to make sure that I was awake, and then slowly felt the way into the saloon, and having reached the ladder, commenced climbing above, with a horrid dread of some awful catastrophe having befallen us. I stepped out upon the deck and looked around. The dull red glow of Torry's cigar caught my eye; for there he was in the gloom, still sitting where I had left him, his chair against the rail, and his arm hanging over. Evidently he was looking at something below, and leaning outward, did not see me. Here the music was even clearer than it had been below, and I paused for a moment in dumb amazement to listen. The instruments were well played, and the voices strong and thrilling, with a wild pathos. I glanced out over the taffrail. The misty waters were still spread around us, and the swish of the waves was distinctly heard. Feeling as though suddenly bewitched, I groped my way toward Torrence, who at that moment caught sight of me. He raised his hand, and said softly:

"Hush! Do not speak a word!"

I moved cautiously along to his elbow.

"What is it?" I whispered; "where are we, and what does this music mean?"

Taking me by the arm, he said in a low voice:

"We are floating just above the masthead of a Norwegian bark. The men are having a little frolic on board, and are playing and singing!"

He then went on to explain how he had overhauled the bark shortly after I had gone below, and hearing the music had dropped a little and slackened speed to enjoy it.

I looked over the rail and a weird sight it was. Just below, through the turgid atmosphere, was the huge silhouette of the ship, magnified in the fog. A few lights were visible along her deck, and near the center was a reddish glow through which shadowy figures moved and danced. No detail was visible. Nothing but the shifting shadows and the light, and the great mass of the vessel. It was like a huge kinetoscope, with the addition of music.

"The fellows are having a good time!" said Torrence; "sometimes in rifts of the fog we can see them more distinctly. Far from home, and with a good-natured skipper, there is nothing to prevent their enjoying themselves!"

At one moment the shadows would form a circle, when one would step into the glowing center and perform some fantastic evolutions to the music. The whole scene was wild and weird in the extreme. A pink nebulosity from out which dark mysterious figures were forever coming and going, dancing, falling, and jumping.

We lingered quite awhile, looking and listening without their having a suspicion of our proximity, and then Torrence, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm over one of the performers, shouted "Hooray," at the top of his voice. Instantly the music stopped, and every man, seized with panic, looked aloft; but we were dark and silent, and gave no token. Slowly we rose again in the air, and in another minute had left the Norwegian bark far behind. It was a queer experience, and I have often wondered how those people explained the mystery of the heavenward voice.

XI

The morning was radiant; not a cloud in the sky, nor a hatful of wind. It was Torry's turn to rest, while I kept watch, and that he needed it was shown by the fact that he slept until noon. Meanwhile I got my own breakfast, and set his aside; and then resumed the lookout above. From my lofty perch I caught the occasional glint of a sail, or the dark trail of smoke from a southerly steamer, but these were quickly dropped astern, no matter what their course. Our rate of progress was uninterrupted, and the fascination of flight grew with familiarity. When Torrence came on deck he decided to increase our speed, wishing to make the coast of Norway before night, on account of the intricacy of the mountain channels to be encountered there.

"Once in sight of land," he said, "we can shape our course and elevation accordingly."

I agreed with him, and the water was soon rushing beneath us at a fearful rate. Both sailing ships and steamers were now passed like stationary objects, but the wonder with which we inspired the passengers unfortunately escaped our observation. The day was warm, and the speed agreeable, allowing us to remain on deck in comfort.

While racing, we passed a fleet of schooners loaded with lumber. The consternation caused on board was made apparent by the blast of half a dozen trumpets, which reached our ears in a chorus, although we left the boats so rapidly that the sound was only heard for a minute, and in a quarter of an hour the fleet was out of sight.

At 4 o'clock we caught the first glimpse of the island peaks, off the coast of Norway, and knowing that it would not be dark until after ten, we slackened speed.

Nearing the land the sight was singularly beautiful. The dark blues and greens against the black rocks of those mountain islands, made an intensely vivid picture. Between these lofty heights were revealed far-stretching vistas of bluest sea, bounded again by other islands and other mountains.

Torrence said he should not venture in any of these channels, but proposed running entirely outside the cordon of islands, keeping the coast well in hand upon the right. Fortunately there would be but two or three hours of darkness, or it might have been expedient to seek a higher level to avoid the possibility of accident by collision; as it was, a sharp lookout would be all that was necessary.

After sailing up the coast for a couple of hours, I went below to prepare supper, which we decided to eat on deck, so as not to miss the magnificent scenery. This we did, and later I was instructed in the art of aerial navigation, and after changing our course a few points to seaward for safety, Torrence went below to sleep, leaving me in charge. During this watch our speed was materially lowered, as we did not deem it wise to run rapidly along this dangerous coast, while I was alone on deck.

The feeling of power as I sat there with absolute control of the vessel was exhilarating. I had never had such a sensation before. Like a visitor from another planet I floated on above the sea, inspecting the most exquisitely weird and beautiful scenery, made doubly entrancing by the lingering twilight, which seemed as if it would never fade away. The intensity of the coloring, the purity of the atmosphere, and the marvelous shapes of these mountain islands, made impressions not easily obliterated. There was an endless variety of fiords and water vistas opening between them, and each vista and each island showed something new.

Torrence slept soundly until 10:30 o'clock when, as the twilight had deepened into gloom, I thought it best to call him, and went below to sleep myself. The night was quickly passed, as there was little of it, and in the watches we rounded the headlands of the Sogne, the Geiranger, and the Romsdal fiords, and then steering a little more to the east with the trend of the coast, made for the great bay of Trondhjem, which we reached about the middle of the afternoon. Skirting the opening of the fiord, Torrence asked if I thought it worth while to pay a visit to this historic city of the Norwegians – Trondhjem being one of their most important and beautiful towns. If we concluded to go, he said it would be best, in order not to attract attention, to land upon one of the lonely island hilltops near the town, and thence make our way by foot and boat. We talked the matter over, but finally decided to let all towns alone, it being possible that the authorities held orders for our detention, as they had in Hull.

"We are quite safe where we are," said Torrence, "and when we stop, let it be away from people."

Having decided to stick to the air ship, we went directly on past the mouth of the bay without entering it. The town itself is a number of miles further up the fiord.

We now headed straight for the North Cape, which we reached in about five days from London. We passed the Lofoten isles, the Vest fiord, Tromsoe, Hammerfest, and other points of beauty and interest along this marvelous coast, without stopping at any of them, and landed upon the northernmost point of Europe without accident. On this desolate headland we decided to make our first landing, to overhaul the machinery, stretch our legs, and have a general pow-wow on Mother Earth before proceeding further.

An elevated plain, lopped off at one end by a wall of granite, hundreds of feet high, and overlooking the sea, stood ready to receive us. No human habitation is visible, but thousands of pigeons living in the crannies of the cliff were frightened at our approach, and flew about wildly in all directions. Above this plain we halted, and then slowly began our descent.

At the water level on the east is a steamboat landing, where the Olaff Kyrre stops once or twice during the summer for the benefit of tourists who find their way to the top by a winding path cut in the face of the wall. Thence to the northern cliff is a level walk of over a mile across this plain, along which a wire is stretched to guide those who happen to be caught in a fog, which at times is very dense and sudden.

This plain afforded the isolation we sought, and with a slow and steady movement we descended upon it. We touched the ground so lightly that I was not aware of our landing until Torrence threw out the ladder and stepped over. I followed immediately, and then we sent up a shout of triumph for the success that had so far attended our journey. We walked around the air ship, admiring her from every point of view, and then went away to see how she looked at a distance. She was perfect! The grandest thing ever constructed; the most powerful engine for the advance of man's material welfare ever executed. Torrence made a careful examination of her working parts. Not a screw or bearing was out of place; and not withstanding the way we had speeded her on occasions, she was none the worse for it. She was carefully oiled, and where necessary lubricated with graphite, and we had the satisfaction of knowing that she was in quite as good condition as on leaving London.

"I am willing to trust my life in her across the frozen sea!" said Torrence, observing her with intense admiration.

"Now is the time to decide if you're not," I answered; "though for my part I believe she is safer than dry land!"

"That is exactly my idea," said he, "although, if you should feel inclined to change your mind, there is another chance at Spitzbergen, where we shall stop again before the final leap."

"I have not the slightest intention of doing so, old boy, in fact I am quite as anxious to get to the pole as you are; and strange as it may seem I feel safer in the air ship than standing here."

We were unanimous in our determination to go to the pole, and I will guarantee that no expedition ever started for there with so good a prospect of reaching it, or with greater comforts than we had.

We cooked our supper near the edge of the cliff overlooking the Arctic Ocean, and we both felt that it was a solemn occasion, for we should soon be placing an impassable gulf between ourselves and the land of human habitations, and entering the great solitudes of the unexplored North.

As there was no wood for fuel, we used an armful of our own kindling, which we had brought for just such occasions, and while drinking hot coffee we discussed the past, and the prospect of the future.

"I am absolutely certain of success," said Torrence; "nothing but an air ship can reach the pole, and an air ship has never yet tried to get there. What's the use of an old water-tank endeavoring to screw her way through a continent of ice. She might as well run her nose against Gibraltar, in the hope of coming out on the other side. The mystery to me is why no one has ever tried this before."

"You're not there yet, old man," I answered; "don't crow before you're out of the woods."

"Ah!" said Torrence, smiling, "I believe the worst wood we had to get out of was London; and having shot the rapids at Gravesend, I think we can go the rest of the way."

I was quite as enthusiastic as he, but being without his knowledge, had not the same convictions.