A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder by James De Mille (good summer reads txt) 📕

“I dare say the writer picked up that papyrus and the copper cylinder in China or Japan, and made use of it in this way.”

“Where do you make out the position of More’s volcanoes?” asked Featherstone.

“It is difficult to make it out accurately,” said the doctor. “More gives no data. In fact he had none to give. He couldn’t take any observations.”

“The fact is,” said Melick, “it’s not a sailor’s yarn at all. No sailor would ever express himself in that way. That’s what struck me from the first. It has the ring of a confounded sensation-monger all through.”

The doctor elevated his eyebrows, but took no notice of this.

“You see,” he continued, addressing himself to the others, “Desolation Island is in 50° south latitude and 70° east longitude. As I make out, More’s course led him over about ten degrees of longitude in a southwest course. That course depended altogether upon the ocean currents. Now there is a great Antarctic drift-current, which flows round the Cape of Good Hope and divides there, one half flowing past the east coast of Africa and the other setting across the Indian Ocean. Then it unites with a current which flows round the south of Van Dieman’s Land, which also divides, and the southernmost current is supposed to cross the Pacific until it strikes Cape Horn, around which it flows, dividing as before. Now my theory is, that south of Desolation Island⁠—I don’t know how far⁠—there is a great current setting toward the South Pole, and running southwest through degrees of longitude 60°, 50°, 40°, 30°, 20°, 10°, east of Greenwich; and finally sweeping on, it would reach More’s volcanoes at a point which I should judge to be about 80° south latitude and 10° west longitude. There it passes between the volcanoes and bursts through the vast mountain barrier by a subterranean way, which has been formed for it in past ages by some primeval convulsion of nature. After this it probably sweeps around the great South Polar ocean, and emerges at the opposite side, not far from the volcanoes Erebus and Terror.”

Here the doctor paused, and looked around with some self-complacency.

“Oh,” said Melick, “if you take that tone, you have us all at your mercy. I know no more about the geography of the Antarctic Circle than I do of the moon. I simply criticize from a literary point of view, and I don’t like his underground cavern with the stream running through it. It sounds like one of the voyages of Sinbad the Sailor. Nor do I like his description; he evidently is writing for effect. Besides, his style is vicious; it is too stilted. Finally, he has recourse to the stale device of a sea-serpent.”

“A sea-serpent!” repeated the doctor. “Well, for my part I feel by no means inclined to sneer at a sea-serpent. Its existence cannot be proved, yet it cannot be pooh-poohed. Every schoolboy knows that the waters of the sea were once filled with monsters more tremendous than the greatest sea-serpent that has ever been imagined. The Plesiosaurus, with its snakelike head, if it existed now, would be called a sea-serpent. Some of these so-called fossil animals may have their representatives still living in the remoter parts of the world. Think of the recently discovered ornithorhynchus of Australia!”

“If you please, I’d really much rather not,” said Melick with a gesture of despair. “I haven’t the honor of the gentleman’s acquaintance.”

“Well, what do you think of his notice of the sun, and the long light, and his low position on the horizon?”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Melick. “Anyone who chose to get up this thing would of course read up about the polar day, and all that. Everyone knows that at the poles there is a six-months’ day, followed by a six-months’ night.”

“You are a determined sceptic,” said the doctor.

“How is it about the polar day?” asked Featherstone.

“Well,” said the doctor, “at the poles themselves there is one day of six months, during which the sun never sets, and one night of six months, during which he never rises. In the spaces between the polar circles the quantities of the continuous day and continuous night vary in accordance with the distance from the pole. At the north point of Nova Zembla, 75° north latitude, there is uninterrupted light from May 1st to August 12th, and uninterrupted darkness from November 8th to February 9th. At the arctic circle at the summer solstice the day is twenty-four hours long. At the Antarctic Circle at the same time the night is twenty-four hours long.”

Upon this Melick filled the doctor’s wineglass with a great deal of ceremony.

“After all those statistics,” he said, “you must feel rather dry. You should take a drink before venturing any further.”

The doctor made no reply, but raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the wine in an abstracted way.

“The thing that struck me most,” said Oxenden, “in all that has been read thus far, is the flatness of the South Pole, and the peculiar effect which this produces on the landscape.”

“I must say,” added Melick, “that the writer has got hold of a very good idea there, and has taken care to put it forward in a very prominent fashion.”

“What is the difference,” asked Oxenden, “between the two diameters of the Earth, the polar and the equatorial? Is it known?”

“By Jove!” said Featherstone, “that’s the very question I was going to ask. I’ve always heard that the Earth is flattened at the poles, but never knew how much. Is there any way by which people can find out?”

The doctor drew a long breath, and beamed upon the company with a benevolent smile.

“Oh yes,” said he; “I can answer that question, if you care to know and won’t feel bored.”

“Answer it, then, my dear fellow, by all means,” said Featherstone, in his most languid tone.

“There are two ways,” said the doctor, “by which the polar compression of the Earth has been found