After they had all calmed sufficiently to be serious again they descended, photographing as they fell, in accordance with the custom they had observed since the commencement of the voyage; and as they sank they came to brighter and still brighter strata until at last, far below them, they espied a wide stretch of what appeared to be Earth-clouds, so Earth-names were given to them. The highest, those now immediately below them, were the ‘cirrus,’ or ‘mare’s tails,’ and were moving somewhat rapidly, proving the presence of a strong wind as in the strata above. These cirrus clouds floating on this particular current of atmosphere were proved to be minute crystals of ice, the refractions and reflections of which produced ravishing colour. Below these were heavy cumuli, cutting off all view below as they lay in an unbroken bed beneath them, like a sea of grey, unbleached wool, and once through these, although they had hoped for what they saw, the realisation raised their excitement to fever-heat. Ever since they had found the atmosphere changing from deadly nitrogen by very gradual degrees into the semblance of Earth-atmosphere, they had partly expected to find an interior world of some form or other, yet they could be excused feeling fevered when they saw below them their whole horizon filled with land, only lit by the luminous ether, ’tis true, but clear and fresh as one sees the Earth under the light of early dawn. The cirrus clouds had been 43,000 feet above the ground, the cumulus had had an elevation of but 6000 feet, and now, a few feet above the ground, Rowland took the last sample of air and found it contained nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, aqueous vapour, helium, and traces of nitric acid, ammonia and carburetted hydrogen, thus being practically like terrestrial atmosphere, and the gravitometer registered the same gravity as that of Earth, so that there was no reason why the outer air should not be breathed, and amidst cheers, for the second time since leaving Earth, the doors were opened, the net drawn aside, and there permeated the ship the natural air of heaven, pure and fresh as that on the country moors in the far-away home—and the hearts of the adventurers filled with gratitude and thankfulness for their preservation. The first care was to go over every inch of the net and outer casing of the ship, in case any damage had been sustained, so that they might at once make any needful repairs, or, if necessary, replace the net with a new one they had brought for such a contingency, several having been woven at the same time. Every knot and twist was most searchingly scrutinised, for all their lives during the equally perilous return journey depended on the immutability of the net, but it was found in as excellent condition as when newly woven.