It took more than a week of rapid traveling to cross this last continent, during which time we ate and slept alternately, one of us constantly remaining on watch above. Many cities were passed of a splendor exceeding anything known upon our side of the globe, and during the transit we witnessed what we could not doubt were different nationalities, if not different civilizations. These changes were, however, not easy to estimate, from the fact that all we saw was so strangely, so utterly foreign that differentiations which would be marked and strongly apparent to a denizen of the inner sphere, were only slightly in evidence to us. It was as if a native of darkest Africa should journey abroad through Europe; it is not likely that he would perceive much dissimilarity between German, French, English or Russian citizens.
We halted only at long intervals, and generally in thinly settled districts, to overhaul our machinery, or stretch our legs upon the ground. The amount of territory covered during that week was vast, the air ship being kept at her highest speed. We crossed rivers, great lakes, or inland seas. We saw sights well worth recording, and marvels which we longed to investigate, and would indeed have done so were it not for our utter inability to communicate with the people; and perhaps some day, even if we should not return, it will be worth to write a fuller description of all the wonders we encountered in that strange inner world; that world which, since the dawn of creation, has been so close at hand, and yet whose existence we have never suspected.
Far to the south we crossed a body of water so closely studded with mountain islets, that many were connected by bridges, and nowhere could there have been a thousand yards between them, and this for a distance of five hundred miles. And yet here were evidences of a past civilization, in the deserted old castles, and rock carvings which abounded among them. We hovered close above some of the largest of these relics, without eliciting a response from a human being. Manifestly they had been deserted for untold ages. The golden trumpet had vanished from these desolate halls, neither was there any sign of life within.
A change was coming over the air. There was a chill and the light was fading from the sky.
"We must prepare for cold weather ahead!" said Torrence.
And then we went down into the cabin and made everything as taut and snug as possible. The hatching to the upper deck was closed, and every crevice carefully chinked. Our portholes were fastened and screwed down. Our ventilators arranged, so that the outer air could only reach us through coils of heated pipe; and if the air ship did not fail us, it seemed impossible that we should suffer in our rapid flight across the frozen sea of the Antarctic regions.
Gradually our disk of heavenly light receded toward the north; and it was clear that we were rapidly approaching the south polar opening. At last it sank entirely out of sight, leaving us in a chill, rapidly closing twilight.
By the time our preparations were completed, it became necessary to start the heaters, put on warmer clothing, and confine ourselves to the cabin. We had bade a final adieu to the summer land, and the rigor of the south polar regions was ahead. Darkness was coming down upon us, as well as the cold, and occasional masses of floating ice were seen from time to time.
At last the stars became visible, the first we had seen in more than a month, and then there shot up into the sky a great pink light—the aurora australis—to remind us of the bright and happy land behind. At that minute I felt a yearning to return; for there was the world of dreams, of poetry, rest, beauty and contentment.
"Torrence," I said, shuddering at the thought of what lay ahead, "how long will it take us to cross this horrible sea of ice and darkness?"