The Scenery Of The Moon's Southern Hemisphere

: To Mars Via The Moon

I now directed M'Allister to steer across the lunar equator into the

southern hemisphere, and our attention was soon attracted by a very

large walled plain on the eastward side of our course.



John asked me what it was called, and I explained that it was named

Grimaldi, being also well known to observers as the darkest tinted of

all the large lunar formations. As seen from the earth it appears a

nar
ow ellipse, but we could see its full width, which is 129 miles, the

length being 148 miles. It is also noteworthy as one of the few plains

which are convex in section, and it is so large that its area is equal

to the combined area of the whole of the counties of England south of

the line of the Thames, including Cornwall.



I showed M'Allister this formation on our map, where it appears only a

narrow ellipse in consequence of the moon's curvature, and pointed out

how very different was its appearance now we could see over its whole

extent. Other formations nearer to the moon's limb appear still more

foreshortened when viewed from the earth.



John here remarked that "these large ring-plains covered immense areas,

and, now that we could actually see them, their magnitude was more

impressive than anything we could have imagined from merely hearing or

reading about them."



"Yes, John," I said, "from our altitude of more than ten miles above the

lunar surface we command a much more extensive view and gain a better

knowledge of details than we could obtain even if we landed on the moon.

For instance, if we could stand down in the centre of one of those very

large rings, we should imagine we were in the midst of a boundless open

plain. The mountains all around us would be so distant that, owing to

the sharp curvature of the lunar sphere, they would all be below the

horizon, notwithstanding the fact that many of them are several

thousands of feet in height. So, for all we could see of them, those

mountains might be non-existent.



"In the case of somewhat smaller rings we might perhaps see, here and

there above the horizon, just the topmost peaks of some of the more

lofty mountains."



M'Allister was now struck with an idea, and exclaimed, "Professor, I

notice that many of these great walled plains are very flat, and I

should think they would make fine golf-links, for there would be plenty

of room to send the ball flying!"



"Undoubtedly," I answered, "you would have plenty of space for that; and

I can tell you that you would be able to send the ball flying six times

as far as you could on the earth with the same expenditure of force,

because the moon's gravitation is only one-sixth of that of the earth."



"That would be grand," said M'Allister. "I should like to have a few

turns at golf on the moon."



"Ah, but you would also have extra long tramps after your ball," I told

him, "so you would get plenty of exercise; but, for the reason already

mentioned, you would be able to get over the ground six times as

easily."



"Well, Professor, I should not mind the distance in those

circumstances," he answered jauntily.



"Perhaps you like jumping exercise too," I said. "Only fancy,

M'Allister, if you wanted to jump across one of those narrower cracks!

Why, if you could jump a distance of ten feet on the earth, you could

jump sixty feet on the moon just as easily! Some of our athletes have

jumped a length of twenty-six feet, so the same persons could with equal

ease jump 156 feet on the moon! What do you think of that for a long

jump?"



"Heh, Professor," he replied, looking rather bewildered, "what a jump!

Why, I should think the mon was never coming down again!"



"I say, though, M'Allister, after all I am inclined to think you would

not find golf on the moon altogether a pleasant game," said John.



"Why not, mon?" inquired M'Allister.



"Well," answered John, "I was thinking that if you sent your ball flying

into one of those cracks which are several miles deep you would find

yourself eternally 'bunkered,' for no niblick ever made would get you

out of that."



M'Allister laughed so heartily at this idea of John's that we both

joined in his mirth; then I recommended him to wait until we reached

Mars if he wished to enjoy a game of golf, for there he would be sure to

find enormous stretches of level ground.






CHART OF THE MOON, SHOWING THE PRINCIPAL FORMATIONS SEEN ON ITS SURFACE



The dark areas are termed seas, though there is no water on the moon.

The many small rings are ring-mountains and ring-plains. (The North Pole

is at the top.)]






INDEX MAP TO CHART OF THE MOON



1. Bay of Rainbows



2. Plato



3. Sea of Cold



4. Alps Mountains



5. Great Alpine Valley



6. Cassini



7. Autolycus



8. Aristillus



9. Archimedes



10. Timocharis



11. Lambert



12. Euler



13. Sea of Showers



14. Aristarchus



15. Herodotus



16. Ocean of Storms



17. Copernicus



18. Apennine Mountains



19. Sea of Serenity



20. Haemus Mountains



21. Sea of Conflicts



22. Proclus



23. Sea of Tranquillity



24. Sea of Fertility



25. Hevel



26. Kepler



27. Grimaldi



28. Flamsteed



29. Bonpland



30. Gassendi



31. Sea of Vapours



32. Hipparchus



33. Albategnius



34. Ptolemaeus



35. Alphonsus



36. Arzachel



37. Theophilus



38. Cyrillus



39. Catherina



40. Sea of Nectar



41. Langrenus



42. Vendelinus



43. Petavius



44. Schickard



45. Wargentin



46. Tycho



47. Maurolycus



48. Clavius



49. Newton



50. Straight Wall



51. Sea of Moisture



52. Sea of Clouds]



Proceeding on our tour of inspection, we crossed the Ocean of Storms to

a point near the central part of the lunar surface, and I showed them

the fine walled plain called Ptolemaeus. This is 115 miles in diameter,

and contains an area as large as the combined areas of Yorkshire,

Lancashire, and Westmorland, its highest peak being 9000 feet in

altitude. It forms the most northerly of a line of walled plains, the

most southerly being Arzachel, which is sixty-six miles in diameter, and

has a very depressed floor; while one peak on the walls rises to a

height of 13,000 feet.



Passing farther west, we next examined another splendid group of three

ring-mountains, arranged in a line running nearly north and south, viz.

Theophilus, Cyrillus, and Catherina. The first is the most northerly,

and is about sixty-four miles in diameter, with several very high

peaks-one rising as much as 18,000 feet, and two on the opposite side

being 16,000 and 14,000 feet high respectively. Even the central

mountain is very large in area, and 6000 feet high. "That," I remarked

to M'Allister, "is nearly half as high again as Ben Nevis, the highest

mountain in Scotland, which is, after all, only 4400 feet high."



"Ben Nevis, Professor, is 4406 feet high!" corrected M'Allister.



"That's right, M'Allister," said John, clapping him on the back, "stick

up for bonnie Scotland, and don't let her be robbed of that six feet of

mountain!"



Proceeding, I then said that Cyrillus, the middle ring, was, as they

could see, very irregular in shape; and the walls were in some parts

very much broken and damaged.



Catherina is the largest of the three, being over seventy miles in

diameter, and its highest peak is 16,500 feet in altitude.



I should have liked to have shown them the splendid double-walled plain

called Petavius, which has a convex floor some 800 feet higher in the

centre than at the edges. We were, however, too late both for that and

Langrenus, another fine formation on the same meridian, for the sun had

set upon them and they were in darkness, so it was no use going any

farther in that direction.



We now directed our course over the Sea of Clouds till we arrived at

what is known as the "Straight Wall."



"M'Allister," I said, "that ought to interest you, for there is a

somewhat similar formation in Scotland. You see this is an escarpment,

or cliff, over sixty miles long, and varying from about 600 feet to 900

feet in height.



"This cliff is one of the best known examples on the moon of what in

geology is termed a 'fault,' indicating either that one part of the

general surface has been greatly elevated, or that the adjoining part

has been depressed. We have many examples of such 'faults' on the

earth-for instance, one runs a long way across Scotland, from

Stonehaven round to Helensburgh, between the Highlands and the Lowlands,

and is about 120 miles in length. That is about twice the length of the

Straight Wall; so you see that Scotland can beat the moon in that

respect!"



This brought M'Allister up to the scratch. "Scotland," he exclaimed

excitedly, "can hold her own in most things! Why, mon, the empire is

indebted to her for the finest statesmen, the cleverest lawyers, the

best engineers and scientists, and, allow me to say, the bravest

soldiers in the whole world! Scotsmen go everywhere, and can do

anything!"



"Oh yes, M'Allister," said John, with a laugh, "and a Scotsman has got

to the moon! but, please, do not forget that two Englishmen planned the

trip, and devised the means of accomplishing the journey!"



M'Allister smiled a rather wintry smile, and then subsided. John was a

bit too smart for him that time.



Passing on, we inspected the large cleft running parallel to the

Straight Wall, and the small mountain close by named after Birt, the

well-known selenographer. We then crossed the Sea of Clouds again, and

had a long look at the great system of straight clefts near Campanus and

Hippalus, together with the fine walled plain Gassendi, the floor of

which is at some parts 2000 feet above the lunar surface. I had often

studied this through the telescope, as it is a most interesting

formation.



"Well, Professor," remarked M'Allister, "I have travelled nearly all

over our own world, but in all my journeyings I have never seen such

wild and rugged scenery as I have during the few hours we have been

passing over the moon. The mountains seem to be split and rent in all

directions, especially where there are volcanic craters in the

neighbourhood-and, really, they seem to be everywhere; while landslips

are very numerous, and the mountain passes are extremely rugged and

gloomy."



"Yes," I replied, "my telescopic observations had prepared me for a

great deal, but the weird ruggedness of the lunar scenery exceeds all

my anticipations."



"What is the explanation of it all?" M'Allister inquired.



"I should think, M'Allister, that much of it was originally caused by

the extreme violence of volcanic outbursts," I answered; "but the

excessive expansion and contraction, resulting from the alternate spells

of intense heat and intense cold to which the moon is continually

exposed, will account for the formation of many of those tremendous

chasms and precipices which we see everywhere around us, as well as for

the huge mounds of dislodged rocks and debris, which are piled up in

such chaotic confusion on the ledges of the mountains and round their

bases.



"On the earth such debris would very soon have become smoothed by

atmospheric erosion, the interstices would have been filled up with dust

and soil, while the growth of vegetation would have added a new charm to

the effect.



"You have seen the great landslip in the Isle of Wight! When it fell all

was wild desolation, but it has become covered with such a luxuriant

growth of vegetation that it now presents a scene of beauty.



"On the moon, however, there is neither atmosphere, rain, nor moisture

to produce weathering of the rocks or to encourage the growth of

vegetation; so the rocks remain just as sharp, rugged, and bare as they

were ages ago when they were first split off from the mountains.



"No doubt very large masses of rocks are still frequently being

dislodged, and if we could see them falling from the upper part of a

mountain, rebounding along the spurs, with fragments flying in all

directions and ultimately dashing to pieces at the base, it would seem

to us most uncanny not to hear the slightest sound arising from all this

apparent commotion. Without an atmosphere, however, no sound could be

produced, no matter how many thousands of tons of rock might fall to the

ground.



"Tremendous changes of this nature may be happening on the moon, but our

telescopes are not powerful enough to enable us to see the results. They

would have to cover an area of miles to be noticeable, unless they

presented some particularly striking configuration."



"Professor," exclaimed M'Allister, "how is it that all the shadows on

the moon are such a dense black and so sharply defined at the edges?"



"That," I exclaimed, "is entirely owing to the absence of the

atmosphere. On the earth, even at night time, some light is diffused by

our atmosphere, and shadows are never dense black even when thrown by a

bright sun. On the moon it is black darkness everywhere outside the

direct rays of the sun, and there is no gradual diminution of the

darkness about the edges of shadows such as we see on the earth. The

only mitigation of the blackness is seen where some light is reflected

across from the rocky walls on which the sun is shining.



"In those deep recesses down at the bases of the mountains the cold must

be most intense and the darkness truly awful. It all looks very nice

when the sun is shining, but appearances are often deceptive, and do not

improve on a closer acquaintance."



We could not have landed upon the moon if we had desired to do so, for

no provision had been made for a supply of air by means of helmets and

other apparatus. I kept my own counsel in this matter, as I had very

good reasons for discountenancing any proposal to investigate the lunar

scenery too closely.



By a curious coincidence, not long after this conversation we had ocular

demonstration of the fact that the moon is liable to changes from other

agencies than those of expansion and contraction.



We were looking at some distant mountains which were in the full

sunshine. Suddenly a dark shadowy looking mass shot across the sky and

struck one of the mountain peaks some distance down from the top. The

peak seemed to be immediately demolished, and vanished from our sight!



M'Allister gazed spellbound; but John excitedly exclaimed: "Did you see

that, Professor? One moment the peak was there, and the next moment it

was gone!"



"Yes," I said. "Undoubtedly that dark shadow was a large meteoric stone.

Many have fallen on our earth at various times, some being tons in

weight. Usually, however, they are so small that on entering our

atmosphere they become fused by the friction and changed to dust. Larger

ones are partially fused, and often split into fragments in the upper

air. The moon, having no atmosphere, is quite unprotected in this

respect; and meteorites moving at enormous speeds, probably over forty

miles in a second, travel unchecked and unaltered in character until

they strike the lunar surface. It is estimated that immense numbers

constantly enter our atmosphere and are destroyed; but the moon must be

continually exposed to bombardment by meteorites of considerable size.



"Many of our ships have been lost at sea in calm weather, and their fate

has remained a profound mystery; but it is not at all improbable that

some of them have been destroyed by large meteorites, for several

instances are recorded of ships having very narrow escapes from these

dangerous missiles from outer space."



Passing on towards the south-west, we had a long look at the magnificent

formation named Tycho. It is a ring-plain nearly fifty-six miles in

diameter, the mountain walls having some peaks over 17,000 feet in

height. I drew their attention to the long bright ray-streaks which

radiate in all directions for many hundreds of miles from the

neighbourhood of this formation, to which I alluded when we had been

looking at the rays from Proclus. Tycho and these bright streaks can be

seen from the earth when the moon is full without the aid of a

telescope, if one possesses good eyesight.



An enormous number of ring-plains and ring-mountains exists all over the

southern half of the moon's disc; in many cases there are rings within

rings, and others where they have overlapped or cut into previously

formed rings.



Moving almost due south, we passed the large but partially ruined walled

plain known as Maginus. This ring has a floor which is no less than

14,000 feet below the lunar surface. We then arrived at that favourite

object for telescopic observers which is named Clavius. This is an

enormous ring-plain, being over 142 miles in diameter, and encloses an

area of 16,000 square miles, thus being half the area of Scotland. It

has a very depressed floor, and some of the mountains are 16,000 to

17,000 feet in altitude.



Farther on, and close to the south pole, we saw the very deepest of the

lunar walled plains, which is named after Newton, who possessed probably

the deepest intellect of any of our astronomers. A smaller formation

south of Plato was originally named after him, but was not considered

worthy of a man of his scientific eminence, so the name was transferred

to the formation we were looking upon. It is about 143 miles long and

very irregular in shape, and its depth is about 24,000 feet-so deep, in

fact, that the sun's light never reaches to the bottom; thus, when we

look at it from the earth, the floor is always in shadow.



The Leibnitz Mountains, unfortunately, were not visible, as the sun had

set upon them. I, however, mentioned that this range comprises several

peaks which are believed to be the highest on the lunar surface,

reaching as they do an altitude of 30,000 feet, and, according to some

measurements, 40,000 feet. They are very difficult to measure, owing to

the fact that they are really situated on the farther side of the moon,

extending east and west of the south pole, and are only occasionally

brought into view by the moon's libration; even then they are seen in

profile, and so situated that they cannot be measured with certainty.

They are, however, so high that they blunt the southern cusp of the moon

when it is in crescent form.



I now directed M'Allister to turn the vessel in a north-easterly

direction, and we moved across to the last objects which I proposed to

examine. One was the large walled plain "Schickard"-about 135 miles in

diameter-which encloses several other rings; the other, which lies to

the south-east of it and close to the moon's south-eastern limb, is

probably the most unique object on the lunar surface. As we gazed upon

it I explained that the formation, which is known as "Wargentin," would

probably in the usual course of events have been a ring-plain about

fifty-four miles in diameter, but it really is a high plateau of that

size, with very low ramparts. It is evidently a ring-plain which became

filled to the brim with lava, or mud, that welled up from the interior

of the moon; and the mountain walls, being exceptionally strong and

without any breaks or gaps, withstood the enormous pressure of the lava,

which therefore solidified and formed the great plateau as we now see

it. The low ramparts, which we noticed here and there, are really the

isolated peaks and ridges of the mountains forming the walls. This is

the only known instance of such a formation; but probably others would

exist had not the walls of the rings given way under the pressure of the

lava. The walls of several ring-plains have been quite carried away,

and, in some cases so obliterated, that it is now difficult to make out

the original shape of the rings.



Having taken a last look at this unique object, I directed M'Allister to

set the machinery in motion and rise for the purpose of quitting the

moon.



"But," interposed John, "are you not going to have a look at the back of

the moon, Professor?"



"No, John," I answered, "only a small portion of it is now in the

sunlight, the rest is in the blackest darkness, so we should not be

likely to learn much more about it than we know at present."



"Do you think the moon is inhabited?" he then asked.



"No, I do not think it is; no sign of life has ever been discovered, and

we have seen nothing to indicate its existence here. The prevailing

conditions seem to preclude the possibility. Think, John, if there is

any life, what must it be! Without any atmosphere-therefore, not a

sound to be heard, for all would ever be in the most deathly silence-no

breath of wind; never a cloud nor a drop of refreshing rain, nor even

dew; intense heat in the sunlight and the most intense cold everywhere

in the shade! If any life does exist, it is most probably down in those

gloomy, dark and cold recesses at the bottom of the ring-mountains,

where there may possibly be some remains of an atmosphere. It would,

however, be life in such a dreadful and debased form that I would rather

not think about it at all.



"For a somewhat similar reason, I have directed M'Allister to keep the

Areonal at least ten miles above the lunar surface all the time we

have been passing over it. When we saw it from a distance it was, as you

know, an object of surpassing beauty; and as we have seen it from here

it has still been pleasant to look upon. This is truly a case where

distance lends enchantment to the view; for, if we went down close to

the surface, we should find it a scene of the weirdest and wildest

desolation-more horrible than anything seen during a nightmare, and

more terrible than anything imagined by the insane!



"No, John," I concluded, "let us retain our memory of the moon as a

thing of beauty, and leave it at that."



"I quite agree with your view of the matter, Professor," John replied;

so I gave the signal to M'Allister, who was awaiting the result of our

discussion, and we soon left the moon far below us.



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