In fact, the telegram contained errors of two sorts, verified later:--1. Errors of observation concerning the distance of the projectile from the surface of the moon, for upon the date of the 11th of December it was impossible to perceive it, and that which J.T. Maston had seen, or thought he saw, could not be the bullet from the Columbiad. 2. A theoretic error as to the fate of the said projectile, for making it a satellite of the moon was an absolute contradiction of the laws of rational mechanics. One hypothesis only made by the astronomers of Long's Peak might be realised, the one that foresaw the case when the travellers--if any yet existed--should unite their efforts with the lunar attraction so as to reach the surface of the disc. Now these men, as intelligent as they were bold, had survived the terrible shock at departure, and their journey in their bullet-carriage will be related in its most dramatic as well as in its most singular details. This account will put an end to many illusions and previsions, but it will give a just idea of the various circumstances incidental to such an enterprise, and will set in relief Barbicane's scientific instincts, Nicholl's industrial resources, and the humorous audacity of Michel Ardan. Besides, it will prove that their worthy friend J.T. Maston was losing his time when, bending over the gigantic telescope, he watched the course of the moon across the planetary regions. CHAPTER I. FROM 10.20 P.M. TO 10.47 P.M. When ten o'clock struck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and Nicholl said good-bye to the numerous friends they left upon the earth. The two dogs, destined to acclimatise the canine race upon the lunar continents, were already imprisoned in the projectile. The three travellers approached the orifice of the enormous iron tube, and a crane lowered them to the conical covering of the bullet. There an opening made on purpose let them down into the aluminium vehicle. The crane's tackling was drawn up outside, and the mouth of the Columbiad instantly cleared of its last scaffolding. As soon as Nicholl and his companions were in the projectile he closed the opening by means of a strong plate screwed down inside. Other closely-fitting plates covered the lenticular glasses of the skylights. The travellers, hermetically inclosed in their metal prison, were in profound darkness. "And now, my dear companions," said Michel Ardan, "let us make ourselves at home. I am a domestic man myself, and know how to make the best of any lodgings. First let us have a light; gas was not invented for moles!" Saying which the light-hearted fellow struck a match on the sole of his boot and then applied it to the burner of the receptacle, in which there was enough carbonised hydrogen, stored under strong pressure, for lighting and heating the bullet for 144 hours, or six days and six nights.