The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras/Chapter 2.IX

Les Aventures du capitaine Hatteras - Seconde partie - 9

Hatteras and Johnson had waited for the three hunters with some uneasiness. When they returned they were delighted to find a warm and comfortable shelter. That evening the temperature had decidedly fallen, and the thermometer outside stood at -31°. The three were very much fatigued and almost frozen, so that they could hardly drag one foot after the other; fortunately the stoves were drawing well; the doctor became cook, and roasted a few walrus cutlets. At nine o'clock they all five sat down before a nourishing supper.

“On my word,” said Bell, “at the risk of passing for an Esquimaux, I will say that food is an important thing in wintering; one ought to take what one can get.”

Each of them having his mouth full, it was impossible for any one to answer the carpenter at once; but the doctor made a sign that he was right. The walrus cutlets were declared excellent; or, if they made no declarations about it, they ate it all up, which is much more to the purpose. At dessert the doctor made the coffee, as was his custom; he intrusted this task to no one else; he made it at the table, in an alcohol machine, and served it boiling hot. He wanted it hot enough to scald his throat, or else he did not think it worth drinking. That evening he drank it so hot that his companions could not imitate him.

“But you'll burn yourself, Doctor,” said Altamont.

“O no!” was the answer.

“Is your throat lined with copper?” asked Johnson.

“No, my friends; I advise you to take counsel from me. There are some persons, and I am of the number, who drink coffee at a temperature of 131°.”

“One hundred and thirty-one degrees!” cried Altamont; “but the hand can't support that heat!”

“Evidently, Altamont, since the hand can't endure more than 122° in the water; but the palate and tongue are not so tender as the hand; they can endure much more.”

“You surprise me,” said Altamont.

“Well, I'm going to convince you.”

And the doctor, bringing the thermometer from the parlor, plunged the bulb into his cup of boiling coffee; he waited until it stood at a 131°, and then he drank it with evident joy. Bell tried to do the same thing, but he burned himself and shouted aloud.

“You are not used to it,” said the doctor.

“Clawbonny,” asked Altamont, “can you tell me the highest temperature the human body can support?”

“Easily,” answered the doctor; “various experiments have been made and curious facts have been found out. I remember one or two, and they serve to show that one can get accustomed to anything, even to not cooking where a beefsteak would cook. So, the story goes that some girls employed at the public bakery of the city of La Rochefoucauld, in France, could remain ten minutes in the oven in a temperature of 300°, that is to say, 89° hotter than boiling water, while potatoes and meat were cooking around them.”

“What girls?” said Altamont.

“Here is another indisputable example. Nine of our fellow-countrymen in 1778, Fordyce, Banks, Solander, Blagden, Home, North, Lord Seaforth, and Captain Phillips, endured a temperature of 295°, while eggs and roast beef were cooking near them.”

“And they were Englishmen!” said Bell, with an accent of pride.

“Yes, Bell,” answered the doctor.

“0, Americans could have done better!” said Altamont.

“They would have roasted,” said the doctor, laughing.

“And why not?” answered the American.

“At any rate, they have not tried; still, I stand up for my countrymen. There's one thing I must not forget; it is incredible if one can doubt of the accuracy of the witnesses. The Duke of Ragusa and Dr. Jung, a Frenchman and an Austrian, saw a Turk dive into a bath which stood at 170°.”

“But it seems to me,” said Johnson, “that that is not equal to other people you mentioned.”

“I beg your pardon,” answered the doctor; “there is a great difference between entering warm air and entering warm water; warm air induces perspiration, and that protects the skin, while in such hot water there is no perspiration and the skin is burned. Hence a bath is seldom hotter than 107°. This Turk must have been an extraordinary man to have been able to endure so great heat.”

“Dr. Clawbonny,” asked Johnson, “what is the usual temperature of living beings?”

“It varies very much,” answered the doctor; “birds are the warmest blooded, and of these the duck and hen are the most remarkable; their temperature is above 110°, while that of the owl is not more than 104°; then come the mammalia, men; the temperature of Englishmen is generally 101°.”

“I'm sure Mr. Altamont is going to claim something more for the Americans,” said Johnson.

“Well,” said Altamont, “there are some very warm; but as I've never placed a thermometer into their thorax or under their tongue, I can't be sure about it.”

“The difference of temperature,” resumed the doctor, “between men of different races is quite imperceptible when they are placed in the same circumstances, whatever be the nature of their bringing-up; I should add, that the temperature varies but little between men at the equator and at the pole.”

“So,” said Altamont, “our temperature is about the same here as in England?”

“About the same,” answered the doctor; “as to the other mammalia, their temperature is a trifle higher than that of man. The horse is about the same, as well as the hare, the elephant, the porpoise, the tiger; but the cat, the squirrel, the rat, panther, sheep, ox, dog, monkey, goat, reach 103°; and the warmest of all, the pig, goes above 104°.”

“That is humiliating for us,” said Altamont.

“Then come amphibious animals and fish, whose temperature varies very much according to that of the water. The serpent does not go above 86°, the frog 70°, and the shark the same in a medium a degree and a half cooler; insects appear to have the temperature of the water and the air.”

“That is all very well,” said Hatteras, who had not yet spoken, “and I'm much obliged to the doctor for his information; but we are talking as if we had to endure torrid heats. Would it not be wiser to talk about the cold, to know to what we are exposed, and what is the lowest temperature that has ever been observed?”

“True,” added Johnson.

“There's nothing easier,” continued the doctor, “and I may be able to give you some information.”

“I dare say,” said Johnson; “you know everything.”

“My friends, I only know what others have taught me, and when I've finished you'll know exactly as much. This is what I know about cold and the lowest temperatures observed in Europe. A great many noteworthy winters have been known, and it seems as if the severest has a periodic return about every forty-one years,—a period which nearly corresponds with the greater appearance of spots on the sun. I can mention the winter of 1364, when the Rhone was frozen as far as Aries; that of 1408, when the Danube was frozen its whole length, and when wolves ran over to Jutland without wetting their feet; that of 1509, during which the Mediterranean at Cette and Marseilles and the Adriatic at Venice were frozen, and the Baltic as late as April 10; that of 1608, which killed all the cattle in England; that of 1789, when the Thames was frozen—as far as Gravesend, six leagues below London; that of 1813, of which the French retain such a terrible memory; and that of 1829, the earliest and longest winter of this century. So much for Europe.”

“But what temperature has been reached above the Arctic Circle?” asked Altamont.

“Really,” said the doctor, “I believe we have experienced the greatest cold that has ever been observed, since our spirit thermometer indicated one day -72°; and if I remember aright, the lowest temperatures ever observed before were only -61° at Melville Island, -65° at Port Felix, and -70° at Fort Reliance.”

“Yes,” said Hatteras; “we were delayed, and unfortunately too, by a very severe winter!”

“You were delayed?” exclaimed Altamont, staring at the captain.

“In our journey westward,” interposed the doctor, hastily.

“So,” said Altamont, continuing the conversation, “the maximum and minimum temperatures endured by men vary about two hundred degrees?”

“Yes,” answered the doctor; “a thermometer exposed to the open air and sheltered from reflection has never risen above 135°, and in the greatest colds it never falls below -72°. So, my friends, you see we can take our ease.”

“But still,” said Johnson, “if the sun were to be extinguished suddenly, would not the earth endure greater cold?”

“The sun won't be extinguished,” answered the doctor; “but even if it should be, the temperature would not fall any lower, probably, than what I have mentioned.”

“That's strange.”

“0, I know it used to be said that in the space outside of the atmosphere the temperature was thousands of degrees below zero! but since the experiments of the Frenchman Fourrier, this has been disproved; he has shown that if the earth were placed in a medium void of all heat, that the temperature at the pole would be much greater, and that there would be very great differences between night and day; so, my friends, it is no colder a few millions of miles from the earth than it is here.”

“Tell me, Doctor,” said Altamont, “is not the temperature of America lower than that of other countries of the world?”

“Without doubt; but don't be proud of it,” answered the doctor with a laugh.

“And what is the reason?”

“No very satisfactory explanation has ever been given; so it occurred to Halley that a comet had come into collision with the earth and had altered the position of its axis of rotation, that id to say, of its poles; according to him, the North Pole, which used to be situated at Hudson's Bay, found itself carried farther east, and the land at the old Pole preserved a greater cold, which long centuries of the sun have not yet heated.”

“And you do not admit this hypothesis?”

“Not for a moment; for what is true of the eastern coast of America is not true of the western coast, which has a higher temperature. No! we can prove that the isothermal lines differ from the terrestrial parallels, and that is all.”

“Do you know, Doctor,” said Johnson, “that it is pleasant to talk about cold in our present circumstances?”

“Exactly, Johnson; we can call practice to the aid of theory. These countries are a vast laboratory where curious experiments on low temperatures can be made. Only, be always careful; if any part of your body is frozen, rub it at once with snow to restore the circulation of the blood; and if you come near the fire, be careful, for you may burn your hands or feet without noticing it; then amputation would be necessary, and we should try to leave nothing of ourselves in these lands. And now I think it would be well for us to seek a few hours of sleep.”

“Willingly,” answered the doctor's companions.

“Who keeps watch over the stove?”

“I do,” answered Bell.

“Well, my friend, take care the fire does not fall out, for it's most abominably cold this evening.”

“Don't be uneasy, Doctor; it's very sharp, but see, the sky is all ablaze!”

“Yes,” answered the doctor, going up to the window, “it's a magnificent aurora. What a glorious sight! I should never get tired of looking at it!”

In fact, the doctor admired all these cosmic phenomena, to which his companions paid but little attention; he had noticed, besides, that their appearance always preceded disturbances of the magnetic needle, and he was preparing some observations on the subject which he intended for Admiral Fitz-Roy's Weather Book.

Soon, while Bell was on watch near the stove, all the rest, stretched on their beds, slept quietly.