The Golden Age Of Science Fiction Vol Ix Part 144

I accordingly gave M'Allister the order to switch on the power gradually, up to our full speed, and it was not long before we were rus.h.i.+ng through s.p.a.ce at the rate of over eighty-three thousand miles an hour. At this rate, as I told them, we might expect to reach the moon in a little over sixteen hours, allowing for loss in slackening down at the latter part of the journey.

"It so happens," I said, "that the moon's present distance from the earth is rather less than 226,000 miles, being its nearest approach to the earth during this month."

John at once asked, "How it happened that, if the moon were only this comparatively short distance away from us, I reckoned it would require over sixteen hours to reach it at the tremendous speed we were now moving"; and added, "I thought we should be there in about three hours."

"Ah, John," I replied, "you have forgotten that the earth is rus.h.i.+ng along and carrying the moon with it nearly as fast as we are travelling, and you are reckoning as though they were standing still all the time. As a matter of fact we are only gaining on the moon by a little over fifteen thousand miles an hour, and we must allow for slackening speed long before we reach the moon, so we cannot expect to cover the distance in less than sixteen hours. You will see that if we did not travel faster than the moon is moving away from us we should never catch it up at all!"

"That explains it all, Professor," said John, "and I must confess I felt rather puzzled at the length of time required to reach the moon, so was altogether out in my calculations."

After we had been proceeding at this rate for nearly two hours, M'Allister came hurrying into our compartment in a state of great excitement.

"Professor," he exclaimed with a gasp, "something's gone wrong altogether, and I don't know what to do!"

"Gone wrong!" I repeated. "Why, what is the matter?"

"Mon," he answered, "everything is the matter! A while back we were rus.h.i.+ng towards the moon, but just now when I looked ahead there wasn't any moon to be seen. I happened to go round to the other window and look back and, my word! if there wasn't the moon right behind us! We have been travelling so very fast that we must have run past it without knowing we had done so."

"Oh, we could not possibly have done that!" I exclaimed.

"But there's more to come, Professor," continued M'Allister. "When I last saw the moon it was nearly full and not so very much bigger than when we saw it at starting, but now this moon behind us is an enormous thing; yet it is only a new moon, or rather what folks call a new moon with the old moon in its arms!"

"Oh, now I understand," I replied. "It's all right, M'Allister, and you can make your mind quite easy. You were not able to see the moon when you first looked through the window because it was nearly in a direct line with your course, and therefore just hidden by the prow of the vessel. It's still ahead of us and still nearly full: if you had looked out of the conning tower or used the periscope you would have seen it."

"Heh, Professor," he interjected, "I know I couldn't see the moon if it was straight ahead of our course, but then what about that enormous new moon that's behind us? I saw that right enough."

"That enormous new moon, M'Allister, is only our own little world which we left a few hours ago," I replied.

He stared at me as though bewildered, and after pondering a while, exclaimed, "Losh, mon, you surely don't mean to say that our own little world changes about in the same way as the moon does--sometimes new and sometimes full?"

Here John interposed. "Yes, M'Allister, you can take it from me that it is just what our world does do. I think you are aware that, like the moon, our world simply reflects the light it receives from the sun, and does not s.h.i.+ne by its own light. So one side is light and the other side is dark, according to its position in regard to the sun. From our present position we are only able to see a small portion of the lighted side, the remainder being dark except for the moonlight s.h.i.+ning upon it, so it looks just like a large new moon. It really serves as a moon to our moon, but its phases follow each other in reverse order. Thus, when the moon is full, the earth's disc is all dark, and when the moon is in its first quarter the earth, as seen from there, would be in its third quarter, and so on through all its phases. Do you follow all that, M'Allister?"

"Well, mon," replied M'Allister, with a sly grin, "I've just heard you say it; but"--and here he turned to me--"is it all correct, Professor?"

"Yes, quite correct," I answered, greatly amused at his distrust of John's statements.

"M'Allister, you're like the Apostle Thomas," commented John, evidently a little nettled; "so you really doubted my word after all!"

"Heh, mon," he answered, "you're not the Professor, you know; and I thought maybe you were pulling my leg!"

"Well," laughed John, "perhaps you will get your leg pulled the next time I condescend to give you a lesson in astronomy!"

After this little spar between my two colleagues we proceeded to the machine-room, which John and I carefully inspected, to make sure that all was working properly; and having satisfied ourselves on this point, we gave M'Allister his instructions for the 'night'; though of course there was no night now.

Mounting the steps of the conning turret, we then had a look at the earth, from which we were so rapidly moving away. It appeared about fifteen degrees in angular diameter, showing that we had travelled some thirty thousand miles from it.

The full moon, as seen from the earth, appears just about half a degree in diameter--sometimes a little more, sometimes rather less; so the earth was apparently about thirty times the diameter the moon usually appears to us. It was only a thin crescent where lighted by the sun, but well might M'Allister describe it as "enormous," for it appeared still larger to him when he saw it some thirty minutes earlier and mistook it for the new moon.

When we came down again John, very thoughtfully, said to me, "Professor, you have had a very long, tiring day; and when we reach the moon, we shall probably stay up several hours to look at it, so you had better take as long a sleep as possible. There will be no need to break your rest, for I'm the younger, and will get about by six o'clock, and relieve M'Allister, who can go on all right up to then, as he has three hours less work to his credit than we have to-day. If your advice is needed, I will call you at once; but, no doubt, we shall do very well till we arrive within a few thousand miles of the moon. We will slacken speed very gradually from about two o'clock in the afternoon, so as not to approach the orb too rapidly."

I had, indeed, as he said, had a long, tiring day, having risen soon after four o'clock yesterday morning, and it was now nearly 2 "A.M." by terrestrial time; so, thanking him for his kind consideration, I bade them both "good night," and gladly proceeded to bed, John following soon after.

He was as good as his word, and actually allowed me to sleep on until nearly half-past three in the "afternoon," when he roused me, and, having dressed, I s.n.a.t.c.hed a hasty meal and then at once proceeded to the machine-room, where my first act was to look at the moon. There it was below us, but still slightly ahead of the Areonal; and its magnificence was so overpowering, that it almost seemed to take my breath away, although I was fairly well prepared for the sight. Many times when viewing it through the telescope I have almost lost myself in admiration of the sublime spectacle it presents; but what I had seen on those occasions could not be compared with the splendour of the view now before us.

Here, without any atmosphere to dim or otherwise mar the view, the brilliancy of the lighted portion of the disc was absolutely dazzling, whilst the extreme delicacy of its varied tints and the subtle nuances of colour, which we now saw to perfection, were most charming and delightful to any one endowed with artistic perceptions. We were only about four thousand miles from this beautiful orb, its angular diameter measuring about thirty degrees, or nearly sixty times its apparent diameter, as seen from the earth; thus it appeared to cover a very large circle on the sky.

John and M'Allister told me they had both been gazing upon the splendid scene for a very long time with astonishment and delight equal to my own; and the latter went on to say, "Professor, did you ever see such a sight in your life? I never did, and could never have imagined that anything could be so beautiful! Mon, it's worth many a journey like this to see such a bonnie thing!"

"You are quite right in saying that, M'Allister," I answered; "it is, indeed, a grand and marvellous sight! I can a.s.sure you that when I have been observing the moon in its full and glowing splendour, it has often seemed to me the most exquisitely beautiful object I have ever looked upon; yet now it appears far more beautiful than when seen through the telescope!"

CHAPTER IV.

CLOSE TO THE MOON--I GIVE SOME INFORMATION ABOUT IT.

We were now moving at a comparatively slow speed, yet the size of the moon's disc was very rapidly expanding as we approached nearer and nearer to it. In the course of a little over half-an-hour we were within ten miles of its surface, which now seemed to fill the whole s.p.a.ce below us; and its rotundity was most impressive. The shadows of the mountains and other elevated portions near the terminator[4] were jet black, owing to the absence of an atmosphere; and, seen contrasted with the brilliant lighting of the parts exposed to the full glare of the sun, appeared almost like deep holes in the lunar surface.

John now remarked, "Professor, you are aware that I have only a rather vague general knowledge of astronomy, although I take an interest in the subject, and that I know still less about the dimensions and physical character of the moon and planets; so perhaps you will be good enough to give us a little detailed information respecting this beautiful orb. Most of it will be news to me, and probably it will all be fresh to M'Allister."

"Heh mon," the latter replied, "just put me among machinery and I'll tell you what's what, but I never learned anything about astronomy, so will not pretend to any knowledge of it, but now I should be very glad to hear what the Professor has to say about it."

"Well, friends," I replied, "it is not my wish to lecture you upon the subject, so I will merely just run over a few of the bare facts.

"To begin with--the moon is very much smaller than the earth, its diameter being only 2160 miles, while the earth's diameter is 7918 miles. Being a smaller globe its ma.s.s is much more loosely compacted than that of the earth, so, although it would take nearly fifty globes the same as the moon to make one globe as large as the earth, it would require nearly eighty such globes to make one as heavy as the earth.

"The moon's distance from the earth is generally given as being about 238,000 miles, but this is its mean distance. When farthest away from our world its distance is about 260,000 miles, but at its nearest it is less than 220,000 miles distant. This difference of course arises from the eccentricity of the moon's...o...b..t, and it explains why we sometimes see the moon a trifle larger than it appears at other times. By this I mean that it really is seen larger, because it is closer to us. But you have no doubt often noticed that when the moon is near the horizon it seems to be very large indeed. This apparent increase of size is, however, an illusion, owing to our unconsciously comparing it with the apparent size of terrestrial objects.

"The surface of the moon shows evidence of very violent volcanic action having occurred in every part of it, and astronomers in the past were much puzzled to account for the excessive volcanic energy which was indicated by what they saw, as such a small globe as the moon would not, in the ordinary course of events, have ever possessed sufficient heat to have developed such violent action. A theory of later years has, however, provided a reasonable explanation. It is that the moon was at one time a part of the same ma.s.s as the earth, which became separated from it before the earth had quite cooled down and solidified into its present form, and was then gradually driven farther and farther away from the earth by natural forces. It was therefore originally as hot as the rest of the ma.s.s which formed the earth, but being formed into a smaller globe of much less gravity--only one-sixth of that of the earth--volcanic action of the same intensity as that on the earth would have a much more far-reaching effect. A force which on the earth would project volcanic lava and scoriae a distance of three miles would, on the moon, project it a distance of eighteen miles. This accounts for the very high mountains we see on the moon, some of which are comparatively, for the size of the globe, much higher than those on the earth. It also accounts for the vast size of the lunar craters, ring-plains, and ring-mountains.

"These latter are formations quite unknown upon our earth, but on the moon they are numbered by hundreds of all sizes, from a few miles up to one hundred and fifty miles in diameter. They are large plains, roughly circular in shape, and surrounded by mountains; in a few cases the ring is in some parts a double range of mountains. Sometimes the plain (or 'floor,' as it is termed) is many thousands of feet below the general level of the lunar surface; in a few cases it is raised considerably above it, and in one or two instances, instead of being flat, the floor is convex. Some of the mountain rings are comparatively low, but in other cases the mountains are fifteen to twenty thousand feet in height, or even higher. Frequently a mountain rises near the centre of the floor, some rings containing more than one such mountain, whilst others have none at all.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Drawn by M. Wicks Plate II IDEAL VIEW OF LUNAR SCENERY.

As there is no atmosphere on the moon, the sky is a dense black, and the stars s.h.i.+ne brilliantly in the daytime. The view is a typical one, showing numerous craters and cracks, and a small ring-mountain with terracing. Ring-mountains and plains vary from a few miles to 150 miles diameter, some mountains being nearly 20,000 feet in height.]

"There are numerous instances where one mountain ring has overlapped or cut into another, thus indicating that it was a later formation; and in many cases the mountains are 'terraced,'[5] as it is termed, either owing to a series of landslips or to the rise and fall of a sea of lava, which cooled as it sank down, thus forming terraces. Small craters abound all over the surface of the moon and on the floors of the rings; cracks in the lunar surface are also numerous.

"As regards the lunar mountains, it may truly be said that we have a fairly accurate knowledge of peaks and mountains which would either be too precipitous to be climbed, or quite inaccessible to us, if we could actually land upon the moon; and the whole visible surface has been more carefully and thoroughly mapped out and studied than is the case with many parts of our own earth.

"If the moon has any atmosphere it must be so very attenuated indeed that human beings could not possibly live in it at all; but nothing has yet been detected which would enable us to say positively that any atmosphere does exist there, although there have been some indications observed which support the supposition that there may be an extremely thin air.

"Nor does it appear possible that there is any water upon its surface at the present; in fact, many astronomers are of opinion that the moon never did have any water upon it. Personally, from a study of many of the formations as seen through the telescope, it seems to me quite impossible that they could owe their existence in their present state to anything but the action of water. They present much the same appearance as formations on our own earth which we know have been fas.h.i.+oned by that means. There is no water upon the moon now, I think, though several large depressions are still called oceans, seas, lakes, or marshes, because at one time they were believed to be such. Probably in some of those places, if not in all, water existed millions of years ago; but ages since they must have lost it either by evaporation or by absorption into the soil.

"I will not say any more just now, but as we pa.s.s above the lunar surface I will point out a few of the natural features that may be of interest to you."

M'Allister here paid me the compliment of saying, "Well, Professor, I always thought astronomy was a very dry and difficult subject; but your remarks were really very interesting, and quite easy to understand. There is only one thing that seemed to me rather strange as coming from a scientific man, and I would like you to explain that."

"Certainly; if there is anything you do not quite understand, you have only to ask and I will try to clear the matter up," I answered. "What is it you wish to know?"

"Well," he answered, "I noticed that when you were speaking about the distance of the moon you always said it was about so far away. Why didn't you tell us the exact distance? I'm not a scientific man by any means, but if any one were to ask me the length of a connecting rod on one of my machines I should say '25 inches,' not 'about 25 inches,' for that would not do for a practical man!"

"It's like this, M'Allister," I said. "You measure things with a two-foot rule, which is something you can actually handle, and you know it is made according to a standard measure and must contain exactly 24 inches. If, however, your rule was 24-1/4 inches long, yet still divided into twenty-four equal parts, you could measure work with it just the same, but would know that every measurement was just a little bit out. If you had no possible means of obtaining another rule, you would have to put up with a little inexact.i.tude.

"That is just the position in which astronomers are placed; they have to put up with a measure which they know is not perfectly accurate, yet it is the best which can be secured.

"Their two-foot rule, so to speak, may be the distance from the earth to the sun, or the length of the whole diameter of the earth's...o...b..t, and these cannot be handled like your rule; and although we know the measurements of these are nearly correct, they are not quite so. Yet the distances of the moon, planets, stars, &c., have to be measured by these rules, so it is clear we can only know those distances with a near approximation to accuracy.

"For this reason astronomers are always trying different means of ascertaining the sun's exact distance from the earth in order to obtain a perfectly correct measure; but there are so many difficulties and complications which affect the result, that it will be a long time yet before they succeed in their work.

"You will therefore understand that all these figures as to distances and dimensions of planets and stars are only as near approaches to correctness as is possible to attain in our present circ.u.mstances. They must not be regarded as literally exact, although they are usually sufficiently accurate for all general purposes. Astronomers know this and allow for it; but general readers of books, when they find figures which do not agree with others they have seen, are apt to regard them as all being mere guesses, and in this they are doing an injustice to the painstaking labours of generations of astronomers and mathematicians.

"I shall presently be mentioning the heights of mountains, the size of ring-plains, craters, &c., but the same reasoning applies to them; the dimensions given are averages of measurements made by different observers, and, though not quite accurate, are as near the truth as the difficult conditions under which they have to be measured will allow."

"Thank you, Professor," said M'Allister as I concluded. "I'm glad I don't have to work with such rules as those you mention, for measurements a little bit out of correctness would ruin any machine in the world."

"Still, M'Allister," I said, "you would have the advantage over astronomers with your two-foot rule, because you would know that it was a quarter of an inch too long. Their difficulty is that they do not know exactly how much their rule is out of correctness, so cannot obtain absolute accuracy however they may try."

We now set the machines going very slowly and moved toward the northern part of the moon, where I pointed out the position of the lunar north pole, and explained that, owing to the very slight inclination of the lunar axis, there can be but very little variation of seasons in any one particular part of the moon. Thus, if at one place it were spring, it would practically always be spring there, but with very cold nights all through the lunar year. Where it was summer it would practically always be summer, also with very cold nights, and so on.

I further explained that, as the moon revolves on its axis in the same time that it takes to make one revolution round the earth, those on the earth always see the same side of the moon, except when occasionally, owing to inequalities in the lunar motions, they are afforded a peep just round portions of the edges at different periods. The remainder of the other side of the moon has never yet been seen from the earth by human eyes, and in all probability never will be seen for millions of years to come.

John, who as usual was smoking like a factory chimney, here removed his pipe from his mouth and said, "Professor, you stated just now that the nights on the moon would always be intensely cold, and I should like to know whether there is any really reliable information respecting the temperature of the lunar days and nights. I have seen so many contradictory theories on the subject that I scarcely know what to believe."

"In that respect," I answered, "I fear that my position is much the same as yours, for I have absolutely no certain knowledge on the point, but will just state shortly how the matter stands at present.

"During the past century many investigations have been made by scientific men respecting the temperatures on the moon, and their results have differed to an amazing extent. It would take too long, and be too wearisome, to quote all the authorities, so a few must suffice. Lord Rosse, who used a thermopile in his experiments, found that in order to produce the results he obtained, the sunlit surface of the moon must be heated to a temperature of 500 degrees on Fahrenheit's scale. Sir John Herschel had previously concluded that the temperature must be much greater than that of boiling water. On the other hand Ericsson and, more recently, Professor Langley--who used a bolometer of his own invention for measuring the heat of the sun's invisible rays--came to the conclusion that even under continued suns.h.i.+ne the temperature would rarely, if ever, rise above the freezing point of water.

"Professor Very, however, who has continued the delicate experiments with the bolometer, and also made other experiments and calculations of quite recent date, has obtained results more nearly in accordance with those first quoted, for he found that near the end of the second week's suns.h.i.+ne on the moon the temperature of the rocks, soil, &c., must rise to at least 80 degrees Centigrade above the heat of boiling water."

"My word!" said M'Allister, "that's hotter than a s.h.i.+p's engine-room, and I shouldn't care for such a very high temperature."

"As this is so recent," I proceeded, "and the work of one of our highest authorities, I think we must accept it as being more correct, especially as Professor Very has taken into consideration some factors which had not previously been allowed due weight.

"In connection with this matter of temperature it is necessary to remember that the days and nights upon the moon are both very long, for the full lunar 'day' is equal to a month, so the actual lunar day is equal to fourteen of our days, and the lunar night is of the same duration. Our 'day' of twenty-four hours is divided into day and night in unequal proportions, according to the changes in the seasons; but, as I before remarked, the seasonal changes on the moon are very slight, so the variations in the lengths of the days and nights are very small.

"But, whatever may be the difference of opinion as to the heat of the lunar day, there seems to be a pretty general agreement that, owing to the absence of an atmosphere, the nights must be so intensely cold as to be almost beyond our conception--probably approaching nearly to the absolute zero of outer s.p.a.ce. Even with an atmosphere the long nights in our polar regions are so cold that only very strong people can endure them, notwithstanding every device for obtaining warmth.

"You will gather from this that although the moon appears so beautiful from a distance, it must be anything but a desirable place of residence even from a climatic point of view, for we should practically be fried at midday, while at midnight--or even in the daytime when out of the direct rays of the sun--we should soon be frozen stiff."

As I said this John chimed in with: "Professor, all things considered, I think I could smoke my pipe more comfortably upon the earth than upon the moon. I really don't like such extremes of temperature."

"I am of the same mind," I replied, "and it is because I prefer a more equable temperature that I have carefully kept our martalium blinds drawn over those windows of our vessel upon which the sun is s.h.i.+ning."

CHAPTER V.

WE VIEW THE LUNAR SCENERY IN THE NORTHERN HEMISPHERE.

"Now, Professor," exclaimed M'Allister, jumping up with a shrug of the shoulders, "you've given our friend John a considerable amount of information on a wee bit dry subject, so, mayhap, you will now give us something more interesting, and go on with the description of the natural features of the moon down yonder."

"Yes do, please, Professor," said John; "M'Allister's own temperature is evidently rising rapidly. Strange, isn't it, that a douche of cold facts should make our friend so warm!"

"Well, not altogether," I replied laughingly; "there should always be a healthy reaction after a cold douche. Much depends on the intensity of the cold applied, and you know that if you touch extremely cold metal it burns you like hot iron!"

"Professor," chimed in M'Allister, "maybe I was a bit warm, but really your facts were not so cold as to make me hot."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," I answered.

"At all events, Professor," continued John, "whatever may be M'Allister's actual temperature, I'm simply burning to know something about that very striking formation with the steel-grey coloured flooring which is situated not very far down from the North Pole, and a little to the east of the central meridian."

"That," I said, "is a large walled plain called Plato, and, being on a receding curve of the moon, it is seen from the earth foreshortened, so that it appears to be elliptical in shape. It is about sixty miles in diameter, and encloses an area of 2700 square miles, which is just about the area of Lincolns.h.i.+re. The general height of the mountain walls is over 3600 feet; one mountain on the east is nearly 7500 feet high, and others on the north and west are but little lower.

"You will notice that there are several breaks in the walls, and a large one on the south-west; whilst on the inner slope of the mountains you can see where a great landslide has occurred.

"It is rather singular, John, that in your first selection you have chosen a formation which is one of the lunar mysteries!"

"Ah! Professor," said John, smiling, "I always was lucky! What is this dreadful mystery?" he asked, with an a.s.sumed expression of awe.

"Oh, it's not a ghost story, John, nor anything to make your flesh creep," I said rather grimly. "Usually the floor of a walled plain becomes brighter as the sun rises higher and higher in the sky, but Plato actually becomes darker under a high sun. By some it has been thought that this is merely the effect of contrast with the very bright surroundings of this formation, and that there is no actual darkening of the tint. This is certainly not the case, for I have examined it carefully myself with the telescope--shutting out all the bright surroundings from the field of view, but the floor still appeared equally dark.

"Others have suggested that the hot sun causes the growth of some kind of vegetation all over the plain, the ripening of which makes the floor darker in tint. As regards this suggestion, it is the fact that upon Mars the old sea-beds are the places where vegetation is most luxuriant at the present time; so, if Plato were at one time an enclosed sea, it might not be impossible that vegetation in some low form might grow and be nourished by the crude gaseous remains of a former atmosphere. A greenish tint has occasionally been noticed by some observers, also several light streaks across the floor, as well as several small craterlets, which have been duly noted on the maps.

"But before we go any further we will have a better means of seeing, for it is rather uncomfortable looking directly down upon the moon. So, John, just lend a hand and we'll fetch one of those large mirrors."

This was done, and the mirror suspended with the upper part projecting forward, so that when adjusted at the proper angle we could sit and look straight into the mirror before us and see the reflection of all that was below. We could still look down at the objects, if we wished to do so, without s.h.i.+fting our position.

"There, John," I remarked, as we completed this arrangement, "I have already arranged mirrors in the proper positions at the windows in the forepart of the vessel, so that in future M'Allister will be able to see what is nearly straight ahead of him. Now you will understand that I had a scientific use for the mirrors I provided, and did not require them merely to admire my beautiful face in as you suggested."

John laughed as I recalled his suggestion, saying, "All right, Professor, I know you generally have a good reason for what you do."

Now, being more comfortably seated, I drew their attention to some small isolated mountains on the area to the south of Plato, pointing out Pico, an isolated mountain over 8000 feet in height, and another with three peaks not very far from it. To the north-east of these, some distance away, are the Teneriffe and Straight Ranges; also isolated groups.

"You will remember," I remarked, "that I said there were several formations which seemed to me to owe their present appearance to the action of water. Now look well at all this district before us--does it not seem to bear out my contention? Those numerous small mountains and isolated groups were not, I think, originally isolated, but connected with the adjoining ranges. If we a.s.sume that Plato was once an enclosed sea, or lake, which burst through the mountain walls--possibly owing to their being weakened or broken by volcanic action--there would have been a tremendous outrush of water, which must have carried away a good deal of the softer material of these hills and mountains; whilst, in after years, the continual wash of the waters, combined with aerial denudation, would gradually have worn away all but the hardest parts of these formations.

"Most probably the whole of the surrounding area was also at some time a sea, though volcanic action has since altered its surface conformation, and in places it bears evidence of having been covered with lava. It is not unusual on our world for volcanoes to burst up from under the sea, so even the evidence of volcanic action does not, as some seem to think, negative the possibility of water ever existing here; and it may not be inappropriate to point out that our hydrographers have proved that our ocean-beds are not always smooth, but are often diversified by high hills and deep valleys."

M'Allister here interjected: "Professor, would you kindly tell us something about that fine range of mountains over yonder, just to the right hand?"

"Oh yes," I replied; "I was just about to mention that mountain range, which is called the Alps after those in Switzerland; and that peak on the front portion, just south of the great valley you see, is named Mont Blanc, and is about 12,000 feet in height.