"We do not know," replied Barbicane.
"What splendid radiation!" said Michel. "One could hardly see a finer spectacle, I think."
"What would you say, then," replied Barbicane, "if chance should bear us towards the southern hemisphere?"
"Well, I should say that it was still more beautiful," retorted Michel Ardan.
At this moment the projectile hung perpendicularly over the circle. The circumference of Copernicus formed almost a perfect circle, and its steep escarpments were clearly defined. They could even distinguish a second ringed enclosure. Around spread a greyish plain, of a wild aspect, on which every relief was marked in yellow. At the bottom of the circle, as if enclosed in a jewel case, sparkled for one instant two or three eruptive cones, like enormous dazzling gems. Towards the north the escarpments were lowered by a depression which would probably have given access to the interior of the crater.
In passing over the surrounding plains, Barbicane noticed a great number of less important mountains; and among others a little ringed one called Guy Lussac, the breadth of which measured twelve miles.
Towards the south, the plain was very flat, without one elevation, without one projection. Towards the north, on the contrary, till where it was bounded by the Sea of Storms it resembled a liquid surface agitated by a storm, of which the hills and hollows formed a succession of waves suddenly congealed. Over the whole of this, and in all directions, lay the luminous lines, all converging to the summit of Copernicus.
The travellers discussed the origin of these strange rays; but they could not determine their nature any more than terrestrial observers.
"But why," said Nicholl, "should not these rays be simply spurs of mountains which reflect more vividly the light of the sun?"
"No," replied Barbicane; "if it was so, under certain conditions of the moon, these ridges would cast shadows, and they do not cast any."