CHAPTER VIII.
VISIONS OF ANOTHER WORLD.
When Yondozi was leaving, I accompanied him, by way of change, to his residence on the island of Moolooba, where the principal observatory in Neuroomia is situated. I had already heard much of the institution, and took advantage of this opportunity to visit it. We left Tehana in the Berero, a small vessel owned and navigated by Yondozi himself. On crossing the Nocalattan Sea, we entered a narrow channel in a wild and isolated part of the country. This led us into a large semi-circular gulf, out of the middle of which rose an island with sides of almost perpendicular cliffs. It was, however, not of great size, and from the farthest end towered a lofty mountain.
"That," said Yondozi, looking towards it, "is the Berero Mountain; from it I named my vessel."
We steered round to the opposite side, then entered a pretty little harbour, with stone piers and narrow shores covered with pebbles and shells. I was surprised to learn that it had been hewn out of the solid rock by the Neuroomians ages ago. There were appliances by which we could ascend from the harbour to the observatory in a very brief space of time. However I preferred to walk, in order to see more of this stupendous structure. The steps, which were cut out of the cliff, went zigzag up the mountain, at the top of which was a broad fenced-in avenue, surrounding the observatory itself, which appeared to be as high as the mountain, and built of the most durable metals found on the continent.
We began to ascend the enclosed stairs, which wound round and round the building, itself circular in form. At certain intervals were small platforms that led to rooms on different floors. We entered a few of them; some were almost empty, but others, again, were filled with machinery, in which, however, I took but little interest.
On reaching Yondozi's quarters, the first room we entered (his studio) was well stocked with books, maps, diagrams, and mathematical instruments. It could not, however, be said to have had a tidy appearance, for books and instruments were happily mixed up together on tables and shelves as if they had been recently used. After examining the contents of this room, we passed into an adjoining one, where we took refreshments; then he showed me a third, which he used as a bedroom. The next apartments above us, he said, were the chief astronomer's, and the highest in the edifice. These, he continued, would probably prove the most interesting to me; so we ascended to them.
All the rooms we entered, except this one, were lit up by a soft kind of electric light. Yet, in this respect, the astronomer's studio could not be said to be defective; for, apart from the strong light of the moon, there were several meteor-like illuminations in many parts of the sky. These, at intervals, made it almost as bright as if it were day. There was one occupant, a very aged man, in the room. He sat at a large circular table in the centre, and was surrounded by huge, cannon-like instruments, pointing in every direction of the heavens, and projecting far beyond the dome that served as a roof. There were also many smaller instruments, books, and manuscripts on the table near him. Yondozi introduced me to Pondropell, the chief astronomer of Neuroomia, and then returned to his own studio. Pondropell said that he had heard of my arrival in Atazatlan, that he was glad I called, then begged me to take a seat.
I now had an opportunity of having a good view of my new and distinguished acquaintance. His long hair and beard were quite white; yet he was of full countenance, and his eyes, which were large and thoughtful, retained all the clearness and brilliancy of youth. After a few casual observations about unimportant matters, he inquired if our scientists were far advanced in astronomy. I replied that as yet I could not speak comparatively, but was of the opinion they were. "The principal planets and their movements were well known to the ancients," I said. "Yet it was only within modern times that really great progress had been made."
I now happened to look at one of the instruments. This led to an inquiry oh his part if ours were like them. I answered that I had seen instruments like some of those before, but that the majority were strange to me.
"The large ones," he said, "are used for viewing the most distant planets, and members of other systems."
I observed that the movements of the distant planets were well known to our astronomers, who could calculate them with great accuracy. Yet they were wholly in the dark as to whether the great orbs (the moon, perhaps, excepted) were the seat of animal life, and inhabited by rational beings like ourselves, or merely huge, cold, inanimate globes, doomed to wander through space from time everlasting.
"We have solved that problem—at least, as far as Mars is concerned," he answered complacently.
I started.
"Do you mean to imply that Mars is really inhabited?" I asked.
"You shall see for yourself," was the reply.
Then, leaving his seat, he pulled at the handles and wheels of one of the instruments till he brought the bore of it immediately opposite the planet in question, which was shining at that moment with unusual brightness.
"You may look at it through this," he observed, "and I will regulate it to suit your vision."
I did so.
"Now tell me what you see," he inquired.
"I see a large, luminous globe," I replied, "apparently emitting millions of rays of light.
He worked at the wheels. Plainer and plainer the planet became, till I could distinguish mountains, valleys, forests, and seas. And oh, how beautiful! My eyes drank in, as it were, yet with an insatiable thirsty, this glimpse of another world, and I became unconscious of the surroundings.
"I see a city," I absently exclaimed, and was startled by the sound of my own voice.
"Take good note of it," he said, letting go the instrument, "for it will soon pass away, as the planet is revolving."
These remarks of his awakened me from my stupor. But I did not shift my gaze, for, most wonderful of all, there were human beings. How fair and happy they looked in their enchanting world! How I longed to be with them, and felt inclined to rush through the instrument to get there. There were lovely children, and men and women in their prime, but no aged among them. No chilling snows or glaciers on their lofty mountains, and there could be no depressing heat in their fairy-like valleys, for the inhabitants looked so healthy and cool. They wandered along their rivers and streams, while on the banks of the lakes I could distinguish many dwellings. I could also see, in the groves, along the hillsides, and between the shining waters, the many edifices of the city.
But it passed away, and mountains and forests again took its place. Such enormous forests! how they swarmed with animal life, and what wonderful forms the denizens took! Here were monsters so unwieldy that they seemed not to care to move; while smaller animals again, endowed with a curious vitality, kept constantly leaping, running, and climbing. The variety of birds appeared to be endless: and how large and brilliant many of them were! Occasionally a human being would move among them. The indifference, however, with which his presence was regarded by the denizens of the forest was simply charming.
I again heard the voice of Pondropell, this time advising me to cease looking, as it was a great strain on the eyes, and might do them an injury. However, I took no notice of him, and never moved a muscle; whereupon I heard a sharp click, and all was darkness.
I now raised my head, but could see objects only very indistinctly, and felt paralysed by what I had seen. I became giddy, and Pondropell assisted me to a seat near the table. He then left the room, but soon afterwards returned with a vessel in his hand. Holding it to my lips, I drank, and felt much better. But still my eyes were very painful.
"You have looked rather long for the first time," he said kindly. "I should have closed it before. However," he continued, "you will get accustomed to it gradually, and, after a time, will feel the effects but little."
"Yes," I said, by way of response. "But tell me that what I saw was real; pledge me there was no deception in the matter."
He gave me a surprised look, and was silent for a moment; then quietly remarked, although not altogether in his usual tone,—
"The scientists of Neuroomia do not try to deceive."
"Pardon me," I said, "but I cannot yet realize it all,—it seems so much like a dream. I did not make the remark reflectively, but felt it would be a relief if you confirmed what I saw."
"I can imagine that now," he said, in his usual sympathetic voice, "and accept your explanation. What you have seen is indeed wonderful," he went on; "but if you feel interested, as I doubt not you do, the things to be learnt about this bright wanderer of the heavens are even more wonderful than all you have beheld. However, you appear to be uneasy; the shock and the effects of the instrument have proved too much for your strength. We shall go down to Yondozi, and dine with him."
I replied that already I felt better, and rose to accompany him. He said that we could be let down to his floor; but I insisted on walking. On reaching the studio, however, I felt well—only a slight soreness in the eyes. Yondozi welcomed us, and the astronomer, in a few words, explained that the instrument had affected my eyesight, and that he himself was to blame for it.
"I guessed as much," said the geographer, smiling. "However, it is nothing serious," he continued. "My own eyes have been frequently affected by the continued use of optical instruments."
Saying this, he led to the dining-room. And it appeared as if we had been expected, for his attendant had prepared for three. We sat down, and before the meal was over I felt as happy as usual, the mellow light of the electricity appearing to be rather beneficial than otherwise to my eye-sight. The conversation turned upon Mars and its inhabitants, during which I inquired if the other planets were also inhabited.
"I can only answer that question with regard to those nearer the earth, and then only indirectly," was the reply. "It is believed that these are inhabited by races of people living under more happy conditions than ourselves. However," he continued, "with reference to the outer and more distant members of our solar system, we are unable, as yet, to say whether they possess animal life or not. It is only in respect to Mars alone," he went on, "owing to its proximity to the earth, and the ease with which it is examined, that we have been able to gather details."
Instruments are being prepared at present," interjected Yondozi, in the hope of bringing the more distant planets nearer to view."
"Has this wonderful state of things, in connection with the planet I have just seen, been long known to you?" I inquired.
"It has been known to the astronomers of Neuroomia for the last few million years that Mars was the seat of animal life," was Pondropell's reply.
"And do they differ essentially from ourselves?" I asked.
"Yes," was the answer, "most assuredly they do, for it is almost a certainty that they are immortal."
"Immortal!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," he said. "It is believed that they can be killed by accident or mutilation. However, this seldom happens, and if left unmolested, their bodies waste not, neither do they become aged nor infirm, and they never die."
Here I interrupted him.
"Do they increase?" I demanded.
"Yes, certainly they do," he responded.
"There is a natural increase," I said, "and no deaths. Mars must surely become over-populated. (I had the over-population question in view ever since I heard of their immortality.) Why, it would only be a question of time for the population to increase so as not to leave standing room for them on the dry land!"
"If you will permit me, I will explain further," he added. "Your inference," he went on, "would undoubtedly be correct, were it not surrounded by other considerations that modify the condition of affairs. There is another luminous planet, compared to which Mars in size is a mere speck, and yet hardly less beautiful than the latter, which comes from the unfathomable depths of space at long intervals of time, calculated to be somewhere about one hundred thousand years, curves round Mars at almost touching distance, then wanders back again in the direction from whence it came, and is lost to view for the period mentioned. Now," he continued, "it is during the time that this strange planet, we have named Marini, is describing its curve round, and in such close proximity to Mars, that large numbers of the people leap or fly, by means of some peculiar apparatus, to the former, and are carried away with it to the vast unknown."
"That is exceedingly wonderful," I said. "But I suppose it is one of those strange means by which Nature has arranged to make provision for her progeny."
"I differ from you," was Pondropell's quick remark. "You surely do not mean to imply," he continued, "that it is for the convenience, or to relieve the population of Mars, that this strange planet makes his periodical visit?" He went on, "I never heard this population question raised before in connection with Mars, and why the people leave that delightful orb is at present a mystery to us. It cannot, however, be on account of it possessing a redundant population, for we know from observation that such is not the case. One hundred thousand years have nearly elapsed since Marini departed, and his re-arrival, therefore, may now be considered near at hand; yet you saw yourself the great forests and extensive tracts of beautiful territory almost uninhabited. Surely this does not appear as if any troubles were to be apprehended from an excessive population, even if there were no means of leaving it!"
"Pardon my interruption," I said. "But I cannot understand why a portion only should leave and the others remain, as appears to be the case. If the strange visitor presents inducements and happiness not to be found on Mars, the wonder is the whole do not leave the latter. If, on the other hand, the conditions of life are less favourable, it is equally strange that any should depart."
"That is indeed a very pertinent question," he observed, "and one that has been attracting the attention of our astronomers for a considerable period; but I cannot answer it, as we have been unable, as yet, from the meagre data we have of the last emigration, to solve the problem ourselves. However," he continued, "we have now new and more powerful instruments for observing the approaching event than our ancestors had for noting similar ones in the past, and it is intended to make lengthened and careful observations from many different stations simultaneously, when it is hoped that the question to which you have referred, and many others equally important, concerning both planets, will be cleared up. It is, however, worthy of note," he went on, "that on the last occasion Marini approached Mars, no children, none indeed but adults, were seen to leave the latter. From this fact, our scientists are of the opinion that the people must live a certain time on that planet, or, in other words, be of a certain age before they could exist on the former; and, if this be true, there would be, of course, only a limited number take their departure at one time."
"But supposing," I observed, "that, through accident, insufficient time, or some other unforeseen occurrence, some of those willing or anxious to go were left behind?"
"In that case, I suppose," he said carelessly, "they would have to wait for the reappearance of Marini!"
"But would that not be a very long time?" I queried.
"You forget," he said, "that they are immortal. Time is nothing to them; they could live for ever on Mars."
"Have you been able to discern," I asked, "if the strange planet is peopled by human beings peculiar to itself, or only by those from Mars?"
"One of the most wonderful circumstances connected with it," he replied, "is that, when last witnessed by our astronomers, no evidence of the existence of animal life was observed. Yet they themselves noted that it was quite possible for portions of it to contain vast populations, without being detected by them. Their account of it says that the surface is very irregular, and that mountains, valleys, and oceans are in proportion to the size of the great orb itself. I should also have added," he continued, "that it was only when a certain portion of its surface was facing or opposite a well-known locality in Mars, that the people were seen to alight on the former. However, it is drawing near our resting hour, so I shall retire, and leave you with my friend here."
On saying this, and wishing me to look in again, he took his departure.
After he had gone, I casually remarked to Yondozi that I felt interested in his friend, and the revelations he had made.
"He is a most learned man," he said, "and a capital fellow into the bargain. I have known him a long time. We all look up to him on account of his age, good qualities, and vast and varied knowledge."
"Has he been long in this establishment?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied. He has been chief astronomer for about one hundred and thirty years."
I wondered I had not met him before.
"He seldom goes into company," was the response, "for he is fond of study and seclusion.
"Of course he is a bachelor," I interjected.
"Yes," was the answer; "and very likely to remain one, for he is now over two hundred years of age."
"And do you think his life of celibacy has been a happy one?" I inquired.
"I have no reason for thinking otherwise," was the reply. "He has been happy enough ever since I first knew him. Of course it might have been otherwise had he not been employed. He, however, is, and always has been, an enthusiast over his profession; and his dearest wish now is to live to witness the return of that wonderful planet Marini. And I can safely say it is also the wish of the whole nation. He has made preparations for the event on an exhaustive scale, and if he lives to manage matters, and carry them out as he anticipates, it is expected that many important discoveries will be made."
We now turned into our beds, and very soon afterwards I was fast asleep.
When I woke up, I found that Yondozi was gone, and on going-out, found him at work in his studio. He said that he was preparing the results of his last expedition for the press.
We were now, however, interrupted by the attendant, who announced that "everything was ready."
When the meal was over, he said it was his intention to proceed to Atazatlan in the Berero, and, if I chose to go with him, that he would visit some of the interesting places on our route.
I replied in the affirmative, and then took leave of my learned and aged friend, Pondropell.