"Yes, slowly," said Cosmo. "There is a perceptible current from the north which indicates that condensation is still going on there. You"ll see that it"ll come extremely close to the six miles I predicted before it"s all over."
By the time they had returned to the neighborhood of the mountains the sky had become blue, with only occasionally a pa.s.sing sunshower, and Cosmo ordered the promenades to be thrown open, and the pa.s.sengers, with great rejoicings, resumed their daily lounging and walking on deck.
It required a little effort of thought to make them realize their situation, but when they did it grew upon them until they could not sufficiently express their wonder.
Here they were, on an almost placid sea, with tepid airs blowing gently in their faces, and a scorching sun overhead, whose rays had to be shielded off, floating over the highest pinnacles of the roof of the world, the traditional "Abode of Snow!"
All around them, beneath the rippled blue surface, lined here and there with little white windrows of foam, stood submerged peaks, 24,000, 25,000, 26,000, 27,000, 28,000 feet in elevation! They sailed over their summits and saw them not.
All began now to sympathize with Cosmo"s desire to find Everest before it should have disappeared with its giant brothers. Its location was accurately known from the Indian government surveys, and Captain Arms had every facility for finding the exact position of the Ark. They advanced slowly toward the northwest, a hundred gla.s.ses eagerly scanning the horizon ahead.
Finally, at noon on the third day of their search, the welcome cry of "Land ho!" came down from the cro"nest. Captain Arms immediately set his course for the landfall, and in the course of a little more than an hour had it broad abeam.
"It"s Everest, without question," said Cosmo. "It"s the crown of the world."
But how strange was its appearance! A reddish-brown ma.s.s of rock, rising abruptly out of the blue water, really a kind of crown in form, but not more than a couple of square rods in extent, and about three feet high at its loftiest point.
There was no snow, of course, for that had long since disappeared, owing to the rise of temperature, and no snow would have fallen in that lat.i.tude now, even in mid-winter, because the whole base of the atmosphere had been lifted up nearly six miles.
Sea-level pressures were prevailing where the barometric column would once have dropped almost to the bottom of its tube. It was all that was left of the world!
North of them, under the all-concealing ocean, lay the mighty plateau of Tibet; far toward the east was China, deeply buried with its 500,000,000 of inhabitants; toward the south lay India, over which they had so long been sailing; northwestward the tremendous heights of the Pamir region and of the Hindu-Kush were sunk beneath the sea.
"When this enormous peak was covered with snow," said Cosmo, "its height was estimated at 29,002 feet, or almost five and three-quarter miles.
The removal of the snow has, of course, lowered it, but I think it probable that this point, being evidently steep on all sides, and of very small area, was so swept by the wind that the snow was never very deep upon it.
"If we allow ten, or even twenty feet for the snow, the height of this rock cannot be much less than 29,000 feet above the former sea-level.
But I do not dare to approach closer, because Everest had a broad summit, and we might possibly ground upon a sharp ridge."
"And you are sure that the water is still rising?" asked De Beauxchamps again.
"Watch and you will see," Cosmo responded.
The Ark was kept circling very slowly within a furlong of the rocky crown, and everybody who had a gla.s.s fixed his eyes upon it.
"The peak is certainly sinking," said De Beauxchamps at last. "I believe it has gone down three inches in the last fifteen minutes."
"Keep your eyes fixed on some definite point," said Cosmo to the others who were looking, "and you will easily note the rise of the water."
They watched it until n.o.body felt any doubt. Inch by inch the crown of the world was going under. In an hour Cosmo"s instruments showed that the highest point had settled to a height of but two feet above the sea.
"But when will the elevation that you have predicted begin?" asked one.
"Its effects will not become evident immediately," Cosmo replied. "It may possibly already have begun, but if so, it is masked by the continued rise of the water."
"And how long shall we have to wait for the re-emergence of Tibet?"
"I cannot tell, but it will be a long time. But do not worry about that.
We have plenty of provisions, and the weather will continue fine after the departure of the nebula."
They circled about until only a foot or so of the rock remained above the reach of the gently washing waves. Suddenly struck by a happy thought, De Beauxchamps exclaimed:
"I must have a souvenir from the crown of the disappearing world. M.
Versal, will you permit me to land upon it with one of your boats?"
De Beauxchamps"s suggestion was greeted with cheers, and twenty others immediately expressed a desire to go.
"No," said Cosmo to the eager applicants, "it is M. De Beauxchamps"s idea; let him go alone. Yes," he continued, addressing the Frenchman, "you can have a boat, and I will send two men with you to manage it.
You"d better hurry, or there will be nothing left to land upon."
The necessary orders were quickly given, and in five minutes De Beauxchamps, watched by envious eyes, was rapidly approaching the disappearing rock. They saw him scramble out upon it, and they gave a mighty cheer as he waved his hand at them.
He had taken a hammer with him, and with breathless interest they watched him pounding and prying about the rock. They could see that he selected the very highest point for his operations.
While he worked away, evidently filling his pockets, the interest of the onlookers became more and more intense.
"Look out!" they presently began to shout at him, "you will be caught by the water."
But he paid no attention, working with feverish rapidity. Suddenly the watchers saw a little ripple break over the last speck of dry land on the globe, and De Beauxchamps standing up to his shoe-laces in water.
Cries of dismay came from the Ark. De Beauxchamps now gave over his work, and, with apparent reluctance, entered the boat, which was rowed close up to the place where he was standing.
As the returning boat approached the Ark, another volley of cheers broke forth, and the Frenchman, standing up to his full height, waved with a triumphant air something that sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine.
"I congratulate you, M. De Beauxchamps," cried Cosmo, as the adventurer scrambled aboard. "You have stood where no human foot has ever been before, and I see that you have secured your souvenir of the world that was."
"Yes," responded De Beauxchamps exultantly, "and see what it is--a worthy decoration for such a coronet."
He held up his prize, amid exclamations of astonishment and admiration from those who were near enough to see it.
"The most beautiful specimen of amethyst I ever beheld!" cried a mineralogist enthusiastically, taking it from De Beauxchamps"s hand.
"What was the rock?"
"Unfortunately, I am no mineralogist," replied the Frenchman, "and I cannot tell you, but these gems were abundant. I could have almost filled the boat if I had had time.
"The amethyst," he added gayly, "is the traditional talisman against intoxication, but, although these adorned her tiara, the poor old world has drunk her fill."
"But it is only water," said Cosmo, smiling.
"Too much, at any rate," returned the Frenchman.
"I should say," continued the mineralogist, "that the rock was some variety of syenite, from its general appearance."
"I know nothing of that," replied De Beauxchamps, "but I have the jewels of the terrestrial queen, and," he continued gallantly, "I shall have the pleasure of bestowing them upon the ladies."
He emptied his pockets, and found that he had enough to give every woman aboard the Ark a specimen, with several left over for some of the men, Cosmo, of course, being one of the recipients.
"There," said De Beauxchamps, as he handed the stone to Cosmo, "there is a memento from the Gaurisankar."
"I beg your pardon--Mount Everest, if you please," interposed Edward Whistlington.