Castaways -- Fiction; Islands of the Pacific -- Fiction; Science fiction
"Your opinion is very admissible indeed, my dear Spilett," answered
Cyrus Harding, "and it is evidently to the proximity of icebergs that we
owe our rigorous winters. I would draw your attention also to an
entirely physical cause, which renders the southern colder than the
northern hemisphere. In fact, since the sun is nearer to this
hemisphere during the summer, it is necessarily more distant during the
winter. This explains then the excess of temperature in the two
seasons, for, if we find the winters very cold in Lincoln Island, we
must not forget that the summers here, on the contrary, are very hot."
"But why, if you please, captain," asked Pencroft, knitting his brows,
"why should our hemisphere, as you say, be so badly divided? It isn't
just, that!"
"Friend Pencroft," answered the engineer, laughing, "whether just or
not, we must submit to it, and here lies the reason for this
peculiarity. The earth does not describe a circle round the sun, but an
ellipse, as it must by the laws of rational mechanics. Now, the earth
occupies one of the centres of the ellipse, and consequently, at the
time of its transfer, it is further from the sun, that is to say, at its
apogee, and at another time nearer, that is to say, at its perigee. Now
it happens that it is during the winter of the southern countries that
it is at its most distant point from the sun, and consequently, in a
situation for those regions to feel the greatest cold. Nothing can be
done to prevent that, and men, Pencroft, however learned they may be,
can never change anything of the cosmographical order established by God
Himself."
"And yet," added Pencroft, persisting, "the world is very learned. What
a big book, captain, might be made with all that is known!"
"And what a much bigger book still with all that is not known!" answered
Harding.
At last, for one reason or another, the month of June brought the cold
with its accustomed intensity, and the settlers were often confined to
Granite House. Ah! how wearisome this imprisonment was to them, and
more particularly to Gideon Spilett.
"Look here," said he to Neb one day, "I would give you by notarial deed
all the estates which will come to me some day, if you were a
good-enough fellow to go, no matter where, and subscribe to some
newspaper for me! Decidedly the thing that is most essential to my
happiness is the knowing every morning what has happened the day before
in other places than this!"
Neb began to laugh.
"'Pon my word," he replied, "the only thing I think about is my daily
work!"
The truth was that indoors as well as out there was no want of work.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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