CHAPTER VI.WANTED: A STEELYARD.
Under the still diminishing influence of the sun's attraction,
but without let or hindrance, Gallia continued its
inter-planetary course, accompanied by Nerina, its captured
satellite, which performed its fortnightly revolutions with
unvarying regularity.
Meanwhile, the question beyond all others important
was ever recurring to the minds of Servadac and his two
companions: were the astronomer's calculations correct,
and was there a sound foundation for his prediction that
the comet would again touch the earth? But whatever
might be their doubts or anxieties, they were fain to keep
all their misgivings to themselves; the professor was of a
temper far too cross-grained for them to venture to ask
him to revise or re-examine the results of his observations.
The rest of the community by no means shared in
their uneasiness. Negrete and his fellow-countrymen
yielded to their destiny with philosophical indifference.
Happier and better provided for than they had ever been
in their lives, it did not give them a passing thought, far
less cause any serious concern, whether they were still
circling round the sun, or whether they were being carried
right away within the limits of another system. Utterly
careless of the future, the majos, light-hearted as ever,
carolled out their favourite songs, just as if they had never
quitted the shores of their native land.
Happiest of all were Pablo and Nina. Racing through
the galleries of the Hive, clambering over the rocks upon
the shore, one day skating far away across the frozen
ocean, the next fishing in the lake that was kept liquid
by the heat of the lava-torrent, the two children led a life
of perpetual enjoyment. Nor was their recreation allowed
to interfere with their studies. Captain Servadac, who in
common with the count really liked them both, conceived
that the responsibilities of a parent in some degree had
devolved upon him, and took great care in superintending
their daily lessons, which he succeeded in making hardly
less pleasant than their sports.
Indulged and loved by all, it was little wonder that
young Pablo had no longing for the scorching plains of
Andalusia, or that little Nina had lost all wish to return
with her pet goat to the barren rocks of Sardinia. They
had now a home in which they had nothing to desire.
“Have you no father nor mother?” asked Pablo, one
day.
“No,” she answered.
“No more have I,” said the boy, “I used to run along
by the side of the diligences when I was in Spain.”
“I used to look after goats at Madalena,” said Nina;
“but it is much nicer here—I am so happy here. I have
you for a brother, and everybody is so kind. I am afraid
they will spoil us, Pablo,” she added, smiling.
“Oh, no, Nina; you are too good to be spoiled, and
when I am with you, you make mc good too,” said Pablo,
gravely.
July had now arrived. During the month Gallia's
advance along its orbit would be reduced to 22,000,000
leagues, the distance from the sun at the end being
172,000,000 leagues, about four and a half times as great
as the average distance of the earth from the sun. It was
travelling now at about the same speed as the earth, which
traverses the ecliptic at a rate of 21,000,000 leagues a
month, or 28,800 leagues an hour.
In due time the 62nd April, according to the revised
Gallian calendar, dawned; and in punctual fulfilment of
the professor's appointment, a note was delivered to Servadac
to say that he was ready, and hoped that day to
commence operations for calculating the mass and density
of his comet, as well as the force of gravity at its surface.
A point of far greater interest to Captain Servadac
and his friends would have been to ascertain the nature of
the substance of which the comet was composed, but they
felt pledged to render the professor any aid they could in
the researches upon which he had set his heart. Without
delay, therefore, they assembled in the central hall, where
they were very soon joined by Rosette, who seemed to be
in fairly good temper.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “I propose to-day to endeavour
to complete our observations of the elements of
my comet. Three matters of investigation are before us.
First, the measure of gravity at its surface; this attractive
force we know, by the increase of our own muscular force,
must of course be considerably less than that at the surface
of the earth. Secondly, its mass, that is, the quantity of
its matter. And thirdly, its density or quantity of matter
in a unit of its volume. We will proceed, gentlemen, if
you please, to weigh Gallia.”
Ben Zoof, who had just entered the hall, caught the
professor's last sentence, and without saying a word, went
out again and was absent for some minutes. When he
returned, he said:
“If you want to weigh this comet of yours, I suppose
you want a pair of scales; but I have been to look, and I
cannot find a pair anywhere. And what's more,” he
added mischievously, “you won't get them anywhere.”
A frown came over the professor's countenance. Servadac
saw it, and gave his orderly a, sign that he should
desist entirely from his bantering.
“I require, gentlemen,” resumed Rosette, “first of all
to know by how much the weight of a kilogramme here
differs from its weight upon the earth;[1]
the attraction, as
we have said, being less, the weight will be proportionately
less also.”
“Then an ordinary pair of scales, being under the influence
of attraction, I suppose, would not answer your
purpose,” submitted the lieutenant.
“And the very kilogramme weight you used would
have become lighter,” put in the count, deferentially.
“Pray, gentlemen, do not interrupt me,” said the professor,
authoritatively, as if ex cathedrâ. “I need no instruction
on these points.”
Procope and Timascheff demurely bowed their heads.
The professor resumed:
“Upon a steelyard, or spring-balance,[3] dependent upon
mere tension or flexibility, the attraction will have no influence.
If I suspend a weight equivalent to the weight of a
kilogramme, the index will register the proper weight on the
surface of Gallia. Thus I shall arrive at the difference I
want: the difference between the earth's attraction and
the comet's. Will you, therefore, have the goodness to
provide me at once with a steelyard and a tested kilogramme.”
The audience looked at one another, and then at Ben
Zoof, who was thoroughly acquainted with all the resources
of the colony,
“We have neither one nor the other,” said the orderly.
The professor stamped with vexation,
“I believe old Hakkabut has a steelyard on board his
tartan,” said Ben Zoof, presently.
“Then why didn't you say so before, you idiot?”
roared the excitable little man.
Anxious to pacify him, Servadac assured him that
every exertion should be made to procure the instrument,
and directed Ben Zoof to go to the Jew and borrow it.
“No, stop a moment,” he said, as Ben Zoof was moving
away on his errand; “perhaps I had better go with you
myself; the old Jew may make a difficulty about lending
us any of his property.”
“Why should we not all go?” asked the count; “we
should see what kind of a life the misanthrope leads on
board the Hansa.”
The proposal met with general approbation.
Before they started, Professor Rosette requested that
one of the men might be ordered to cut him a cubic decimetre
out of the solid substance of Gallia.[2]
“My engineer is the man for that,” said the count; “he
will do it well for you if you will give him the precise
measurement.”
“What! you don't mean,” exclaimed the professor,
again going off into a passion, “that you haven't a proper
measure of length?”
Ben Zoof was sent off to ransack the stores for the
article in question, but no measure was forthcoming.
“Most likely we shall find one on board the tartan,”
said the orderly.
“Then let us lose no time in trying,” answered the
professor, as he bustled with hasty strides into the gallery.
The rest of the party followed, and were soon in the
open air upon the rocks that overhung the shore. They
descended to the level of the frozen water and made their
way along its edge towards the little creek where the
Dobryna and the Hansa lay firmly imprisoned in their icy
bonds.
The temperature was low beyond previous experience;
but well muffled up in fur, they all endured it without much
actual suffering. Their breath issued in vapour, which was
at once congealed into little crystals upon their whiskers,
beards, eyebrows, and eyelashes, until their faces, covered
with countless snow-white prickles, were truly ludicrous.
The little professor, most comical of all, resembled nothing
so much as the cub of an Arctic bear.
It was eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was
rapidly approaching the zenith; but its disc, from the
extreme remoteness, was proportionately dwarfed; its
beams being all but destitute of their proper warmth and
radiance. The volcano to its very summit and the surrounding
rocks were still covered with the unsullied
mantle of snow that had fallen while the atmosphere was
still to some extent charged with vapour; but on the north
side the snow had given place to the cascade of fiery lava,
which, making its way down the sloping rocks as far as the
vaulted opening of the central cavern, fell thence perpendicularly
into the sea.
Above the cavern, 150 feet up the mountain, was a
dark hole, above which the stream of lava made a bifurcation
in its course. From this hole projected the case of
an astronomer's telescope; it was the opening of Palmyrin
Rosette's observatory.
Sea and land seemed blended into one dreary whiteness,
to which the pale blue sky offered scarcely any contrast.
The shore was indented with the marks of many footsteps
left by the colonists either on their way to collect ice for
drinking purposes, or as the result of their skating expeditions;
the edges of the skates had cut out a labyrinth of
curves complicated as the figures traced by aquatic insects
upon the surface of a pool.
Across the quarter of a mile of level ground that lay
between the mountain and the creek, a series of footprints,
frozen hard into the snow, marked the course taken by
Isaac Hakkabut on his last return from Nina's Hive.
On approaching the creek, Lieutenant Procope drew
his companions' attention to the elevation of the Dobryna's
and Hansa's waterline, both vessels being now some fifteen
feet above the level of the sea.
“What a strange phenomenon!” exclaimed the captain.
“It makes me very uneasy,” rejoined the lieutenant;
“in shallow places like this, as the crust of ice thickens, it
forces everything upwards with irresistible force.”
“But surely this process of congelation must have a
limit!” said the count.
“But who can say what that limit will be? Remember
that we have not yet reached our maximum of cold,”
replied Procope.
“Indeed, I hope not!” exclaimed the professor; “where
would be the use of our travelling 200,000,000 leagues from
the sun, if we are only to experience the same temperature
as we should find at the poles of the earth?”
“Fortunately for us, however, professor,” said the lieutenant,
with a smile, “the temperature of the remotest
space never descends beyond 70° below zero.”
“And as long as there is no wind,” added Servadac,
“we may pass comfortably through the winter, without a
single attack of catarrh.”
Lieutenant Procope proceeded to impart to the count
his anxiety about the situation of his yacht. He pointed
out that by the constant superposition of new deposits of
ice, the vessel would be elevated to a great height, and
consequently in the event of a thaw, it must be exposed
to a calamity similar to those which in polar seas cause
destruction to so many whalers.
There was no time now for concerting measures offhand
to prevent the disaster, for the other members of the
party had already reached the spot where the Hansa lay
bound in her icy trammels. A flight of steps, recently
hewn by Hakkabut himself, gave access for the present to
the gangway, but it was evident that some different contrivance
would have to be resorted to when the tartan
should be elevated perhaps to a hundred feet.
A thin curl of blue smoke issued from the copper
funnel that projected above the mass of snow which had
accumulated upon the deck of the Hansa. The owner was
sparing of his fuel, and it was only the non-conducting
layer of ice enveloping the tartan that rendered the
internal temperature endurable.
“Hi! old Nebuchadnezzar, where are you?” shouted
Ben Zoof, at the full strength of his lungs.
At the sound of his voice, the cabin door opened, and
the Jew's head and shoulders protruded on to the deck.

1^  2.2 lbs. avoir du pois.
2^  A decimetre = 3.93 inches; a cubic decimetre,
therefore (3.93)3=60 cubic inches, nearly.

3^  Here, the translator seems to be confusing two distinct
measuring devices. The steelyard uses counterweights,
and so its measurements are independent of gravity. A
spring balance depends entirely on gravity to record
the weight of an object. It is therefore a spring balance (Verne: “peson”)
that the professor needs to determine the reduced gravity on Gallia.