Chatterbox, 1905 Part 99

IX.--HERR ANDReE AND HIS BALLOON.

On the 7th June, 1896, the steam-ship _Virgo_ sailed from the port of Gothenburg in Sweden with a very distinguished company on board. Rising young engineers, students of the Stockholm Polytechnic, and gentlemen of scientific fame, had engaged themselves as common sailors, so deep was their interest in the object for which the _Virgo_ sailed. The princ.i.p.al person on board was Herr Solomon Auguste Andree, who, with two companions, Dr. Erkholm and Dr. Strindberg, was bent on making an adventurous attempt to reach the North Pole by means of a balloon. The _Virgo_ was therefore steering for the lonely sh.o.r.es of Spitzbergen, six hundred miles south of the Pole. Here the balloon would be inflated to carry Herr Andree and his companions (it was hoped) over the rest of that pathless, s...o...b..und journey. The balloon itself, at present, lay carefully packed in its berth, together with the car and the apparatus for making the necessary gas. It had been manufactured in France a month before, and while on exhibition for four days at the Champ de Mars, had been seen by thirty thousand visitors.

But the very finest balloon in the world could not sail against the wind, and, though on the 27th July it was inflated and quite ready for flight, the north wind blew steadily down from the Pole as though to say, 'You are not wanted here! You are not wanted here!'

Herr Andree and his friends waited patiently for three weeks, and then, as it still blew from the north, he ordered the gas to be let out and the silk bag packed for a return to the south. The captain of the _Virgo_ said that he feared, if they stayed longer, his ship would be frozen in. The shed which they had erected on Dane's Island was left standing for use another time, together with the machinery for making the gas.

Nine months later, on May 30th, 1897, the _Svensksund_ (a ship lent to the expedition by the King of Sweden) landed Andree once more at Dane's Island, and once more he filled his air-ship with gas. This time it had been considerably increased in size, and measured sixty-six feet in diameter, with room for one hundred and seventy-six thousand cubic feet of gas. The globe was made of bands of silk eighteen inches wide, varying in thickness according to the strains it would have to bear. It was provided with two additional valves and an arrangement called a 'rending flap.' This flap was intended to avoid b.u.mping, when, at the end of the voyage, the aeronauts would descend for the last time. A rope, carrying a small grapnel at one end, was at the other end attached to the 'flap.' The moment the grapnel was thrown out and caught in the ground, the tightened rope would tear a large opening in the balloon and let out all the gas instantaneously. If care in construction had been all that was necessary to make Herr Andree's journey a success, then our story would surely have had a happier ending.

Again, as in 1896, the contrary wind delayed the start, but on July 11th it veered round to the south, and though it was by no means a settled wind, Herr Andree decided to weigh anchor. All was ready. A hasty note to the King of Sweden was written by the leader. Farewells were spoken, and the captain leapt into his car.

'Strindberg! Frankel!'[5] he cried, 'we must be off!'

The next moment his two fellow-travellers stood at his side. Each held a knife with which to cut loose three bags of ballast that kept the balloon from rising. It was an impressive moment, and those who stood on that lonely sh.o.r.e to wish G.o.dspeed to the tiny expedition are not likely to forget the smallest detail of the scene. The ballast fell, and the 'Ornen' (as the balloon was named) rose a little way, being still held by three strong ropes. Near each of these a sailor stood with a knife ready to cut the rope the moment Herr Andree gave the word. A little more delay, till the great globe swayed to a favourable puff of wind, and then Herr Andree called, 'One, two! Cut the ropes!'--and the balloon rose into the air, while the quiet sh.o.r.es of the lonely little island echoed the hearty cheers of the company left behind.

From the car of the balloon hung a long 'trailing' rope, which it was Andree's intention to keep always in contact with the earth or water, and by so doing control the direction of the balloon. Between the car and the balloon itself was an arrangement of three sails, which could be trimmed to the wind against the resistance of the trailing rope. The great difficulty in steering balloons has always been that since they travel at exactly the same speed as the wind, there is nothing for sails to react against; but by checking the speed of the balloon (just as the speed of a ship is checked by the water) this difficulty may be got over to _some_ extent.

So Herr Andree dropped his trailing rope, and, as he left Dane's Island, those who had gone to see him off watched the little bubbling wake that was left behind by the rope. Narrower and narrower it grew in the distance till it was no more than a silver line, and the vast balloon above it moved like a grey shadow on the Arctic sky. The three explorers in the car were soon beyond the reach of sight, but the crew of the _Svensksund_ never took their eyes from the air-ship till, sailing in a north-easterly direction at a height of about one hundred and fifty feet, it disappeared behind a range of low hills.

Eleven days later a message was received by carrier pigeon (the fourth dispatched by Herr Andree). It stated that on July 13th, two days after the departure, all was going well. On August 31st a floating buoy was found in the Arctic seas, and contained another message, but as it was dated July 11th it was of less interest than the first.

Since then the explorer and his companions have pa.s.sed from our knowledge as completely as the silver wake of his trailing rope has faded from the Arctic sea. The efforts made to follow its mysterious path have failed for eight years, and the traveller's fate is another secret locked in these frozen regions.

JOHN LEA.

FOOTNOTE:

[5] Herr Frankel had taken the place of Dr. Erkholm, who had retired from the enterprise.

A STRONG MOTIVE.

Robert Louis Stevenson tells of a Welsh blacksmith who, at the age of twenty-five, could neither read nor write. He then heard a chapter of _Robinson Crusoe_ read aloud. It was the scene of the wreck, and he was so impressed by the thought of what he missed by his ignorance, that he set to work that very day, and was not satisfied until he had learned to read in Welsh. His disappointment was great when he found all his pains had been thrown away, for he could only obtain an English copy of the book. Nothing daunted, he began once more, and learned English, and at last had the joy and triumph of being able to read the delightful story for himself.

A strong motive and a steady purpose overcome the greatest difficulties.

M. H.

DIAMONDS.

A man named John O'Reilly died not long ago in a store near Taungs, in the Kimberley district of South Africa. Few people, perhaps, remember or know that this man began the great diamond trade of Africa.

The story is quite a romance. In 1867 the baby son of a Mrs. Jacobs found 'a pretty pebble' near the Orange River, and brought it to his mother. She showed it to a Boer, who offered to buy it. 'You may have it as a gift,' laughed the woman; 'there is no value in it.'

The Boer thought otherwise, and showed it to O'Reilly, who was then a travelling trader. He took it to Colesberg, and there cut his initials with it on the window of an inn, proving the stone to be a diamond.

It was then shown to the Clerk of the Peace, and finally it reached the Colonial Secretary, and was sent to the Paris Exhibition, where it was sold for five hundred pounds, and established the fact that diamonds could be found in the Colony.

But it was some years yet before people in Cape Colony at all realised the wealth of diamonds which lay scattered at their very feet. A Boer, living at Dutoitspan, found a diamond sticking in the mud walls of which his house was built, and in July, 1871, a man scratched the soil near Colesberg Kopje with his knife, and unearthed a diamond. A town was built round it, which has grown into the modern Kimberley.

So, from John O'Reilly's first diamond of five hundred pounds has grown a great trade, which last year produced diamonds valued at over four million pounds sterling.

There is little doubt that though Cape diamonds were 'discovered' first in 1867, they were known in Africa long ago. Stone and bronze instruments found beside skeletons in the Orange Free State show that pre-historic miners had been at work, and on an old map of 1750 the words, 'Here be diamonds' are written across what is now Griqualand West.

SAD COMPANY IN THE NURSERY.

I found in a nursery corner, A pocket-knife, pen, and a ball, And this was the story they told me, If I can remember it all.

'My beautiful handle was broken,'

The pocket-knife mournfully cried, 'When Alfred forced open the clock-face To see if old Time was inside.'

'And look,' said the ball with a shudder, 'I'm scratched in a horrible way, Because through the drawing-room window He carelessly flung me to-day.'

'And worse,' cried the pen in a pa.s.sion, 'Worse, worse than their troubles a lot!

I've been in disgrace, since he used me, For making a terrible blot.'

And then they all cried in a chorus: 'In sorrow we're ending our days, Because Master Alfred is careless, And walks in such mischievous ways.'

THE JUMPING MOUSE.

New Jersey, in the United States of America, still has the name given it when British explorers paid their first visit, but it does not look new at present, and we can hardly believe that a few hundred years ago savages roamed in its forests and woods. Many of its old trees have been cut down, yet some remain to make a pleasant shade, and some curious wild animals are found in its woodlands, which are very plentiful; there is the dull-coloured wood-mouse, which often escapes notice amongst the herbage; the lively, more conspicuous white-footed species; and especially the jumping mouse, the briskest and most amusing of all.

The jumping mouse is a lover of woods or copses, but it comes also to the open ground, where, probably, it is in more peril from bird-foes; and it will visit garden shrubberies, and build a nest for itself in the corner of some zigzag fence. Some people who have watched this mouse have told us how active it is by night, but it may often be seen on a summer's day running home to the nest, with the pouches in its cheeks full of food, to be h.o.a.rded up or given to the young ones. It can run with great speed, as well as leap. Now and then a mother mouse may be noticed basking in the sun, her little ones round her, generally keeping near the nest.

Usually, it is only when in danger or frightened that the little creature travels along in its peculiar jumping way. It appears that wherever a jumping mouse is, be it field or woodland, it takes to the thick gra.s.s or underbrush, probably because amongst these it finds the food required. But in these places it is in peril from enemies coming suddenly to seize it, and the mouse has a great advantage by being able to leap, and not run through tangled gra.s.s.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Jumping Mouse.]

People have disagreed as to the distance these mice can jump; five or six feet has been stated, but that is beyond the fact. A gentleman who had a tame specimen found that on his parlour carpet it would jump about two feet, though very likely, if in danger, it would have covered a greater distance.

When the sharp frosts of autumn have begun, the jumping mouse looks out for a winter retreat. It is able to dig, and so it burrows down into the earth, when it is not too hard, and scoops itself a nest. Away from observation and sheltered from the cold, it curls round, head, tail, and feet together, eating occasionally from its store, till the spring days rouse it to fresh energy.