“What! the sun?” answered Nicholl and Michel Ardan. “Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself lighting up the summit of the mountains situated on the southern borders of the moon. We are evidently nearing the south pole.” “After having passed the north pole,” replied Michel. “We have made the circuit of our satellite, then?” “Yes, my good Michel.” “Then, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no more open curves to fear?” “No, but a closed curve.” “Which is called—” “An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in interplanetary space, it is probable that the projectile will describe an elliptical orbit around the moon.” “Indeed!” “And that it will become _her_ satellite.” “Moon of the moon!” cried Michel Ardan. “Only, I would have you observe, my worthy friend,” replied Barbicane, “that we are none the less lost for that.” “Yes, in another manner, and much more pleasantly,” answered the careless Frenchman with his most amiable smile. CHAPTER XVII. TYCHO At six in the evening the projectile passed the south pole at less than forty miles off, a distance equal to that already reached at the north pole. The elliptical curve was being rigidly carried out. At this moment the travelers once more entered the blessed rays of the sun. They saw once more those stars which move slowly from east to west. The radiant orb was saluted by a triple hurrah. With its light it also sent heat, which soon pierced the metal walls. The glass resumed its accustomed appearance. The layers of ice melted as if by enchantment; and immediately, for economy’s sake, the gas was put out, the air apparatus alone consuming its usual quantity. “Ah!” said Nicholl, “these rays of heat are good. With what impatience must the Selenites wait the reappearance of the orb of day.” “Yes,” replied Michel Ardan, “imbibing as it were the brilliant ether, light and heat, all life is contained in them.” At this moment the bottom of the projectile deviated somewhat from the lunar surface, in order to follow the slightly lengthened elliptical orbit. From this point, had the earth been at the full, Barbicane and his companions could have seen it, but immersed in the sun’s irradiation she was quite invisible. Another spectacle attracted their attention, that of the southern part of the moon, brought by the glasses to within 450 yards. They did not again leave the scuttles, and noted every detail of this fantastical continent. Mounts Doerful and Leibnitz formed two separate groups very near the south pole. The first group extended from the pole to the eighty-fourth parallel, on the eastern part of the orb; the second occupied the eastern border, extending from the 65° of latitude to the pole. On their capriciously formed ridge appeared dazzling sheets, as mentioned by Pere Secchi. With more certainty than the illustrious Roman astronomer, Barbicane was enabled to recognize their nature. “They are snow,” he exclaimed. “Snow?” repeated Nicholl.