But now, to return to what we were speaking ofmy future plans, said I; it seems to me that it would be a good thing if I were to travel for a year or so and see the world.
You might do worse, my boy, said my mother.
With a view to that, I continued, I have resolved to purchase a yacht, but before doing so I must complete the new torpedo that I have invented for the navy; that is, I hope it may be introduced into our navy. The working model in the outhouse is all but ready for exhibition. When finished, I shall show it to the Lords of the Admiralty, and after they have accepted it I will throw study overboard for a time and go on a cruise.
Ah, Jeff, Jeff, sighed my mother, with a shake of her head, youll never leave off till you get blown up. But I suppose you must have your way. You always had, dear boy.
But never in opposition to your wishes, had I? Now be just, mother.
Quite true, Jeff, quite true. How comes it, I wonder, that you are so fond of fire, smoke, fumes, crash, clatter, and explosions?
Really, said I, somewhat amused by the question, I cannot tell, unless it be owing to something in that law of compensation which appears to permeate the universe. You have such an abhorrence of fire, fumes, smoke, crash, clatter, and explosions, that your only son is bound, as it were, to take special delight in chemical analysis and combination, to say nothing of mechanical force and contrivance, in order that a balance of some sort may be adjusted which would otherwise be thrown out of order by yourpardon mecomparative ignorance of, and indifference to such matters.
Nay, Jeff, replied my mother, gently, with a look of reproof on her kind face; ignorance if you will, but not indifference. I cannot be indifferent to anything that interests you.
True; forgive me; I should have said dislike.
Yes, that would have been correct, Jeff, for I cannot pretend to like the bursting, smoking, and ill-smelling things you are so fond of; but you know I am interested in them. You cannot have forgotten how, when you were a boy, I used to run at your call to witness your pyrotechnic, hydraulic, mechanic, and chemic displaysyou see how well I remember the namesand how the
The acids, I interrupted, taking up the theme, ruined your carpets and table-cloths, and the smoke stifled and blinded, while the noise and flames terrified you; no, mother, I have not forgotten it, nor the patient way you took the loss of your old silk dress, or
Ah! yes, sighed the dear old lady, with quite a pitiful look, if it had been any other than my wedding dress, whichbutwell, its of no use regretting now; and you know, Jeff, I would not have checked you for worlds, because I knew you were being led in the right way, though, in my folly, I sometimes wished that the way had been a little further removed from smoke and smells. But, after all, you were very careful, dear boywonderfully so, for your years, and your little accidents did not give me much pain beyond the day of their occurrence. The poisoning of the cat, to be sure, was sad, though unavoidable, and so was the destruction by fire of the cooks hair; but the flooding of the house, after the repairs you executed on the great cistern, and the blowing out of the laundry window at the time the clothes-boiler was cracked, with other trifles of that sort, were
The remainder of my mothers speech was cut short by a clattering of hoofs.
Next moment my sister Bella came round the corner of the house at full gallop, her fresh face beaming with the exercise, and her golden hair streaming in the breeze.
She pulled up, leaped off her pony, and ran into the room. As she did so, I observed a tall, soldierly man appear in the avenue, advancing with rapid strides. Well did I know his grave, handsome face.
Here comes Nicholas! said I, turning round; but Bella had fled.
I observed that my friend, instead of coming straight to the room from the window of which my mother and I had saluted him, turned sharp off to the library.
I was running to the door to welcome him, when my mother called me back. I turned and looked at her. She smiled. So did I. Without uttering a word we both sat down to finish our breakfast.
Ah! Jeff, said my mother, with a little sigh, how I wish you would fall in love with some one!
Fall in love, mother! What nonsense! How could I? No doubt there are plenty loveable girls, and there is one charming littlewell, no matter
At that moment Nicholas entered the room, heartily saluted my mother, and cut short our conversation.
Chapter Two.
Is Still More Explosive than the First
Much to my surprise, I found that neither Nicholas Naranovitsch nor Bella nor my mother would consent to witness my experiments with dynamite that day.
As my old chum approached to greet me on the lawn before breakfast the day following, I could not help admiring his fine, tall, athletic figure. I dont know how it is, but I have always felt, somehow, as if I looked up at him, although we were both exactly the same heightsix feet one without our boots. I suppose it must have been owing to his standing so erect, while I slouched a little. Perhaps my looking up to him mentally had something to do with it.
Youll come to-day, wont you? I said, referring to the experiments.
Of course I will, old boy; but, he added, with a smile, only on one condition.
What may that be?
That you dont bother Bella with minute details.
Of course I promised not to say a word unless asked for explanations, and after breakfast we all went to a part of the grounds which I wished to bring under cultivation. It was at that time encumbered with several large trees, old roots, and a number of boulders.
Come along with us, Lancey, I said to the groom, who was also my laboratory assistant, and whom I met in the stable-yard, the scene of his memorable blowing-up. I am about to try the effect of an explosive, and wish you to understand the details.
Yes, sir, replied Lancey, with a respectful touch of his cap; I must say, sir, if youll allow me, I never knowed any one like you, sir, for goin into details except one, and that one
Ah, yes, I know, that was your friend the Scotch boy, said I, interrupting; but Lancey was a privileged servant, and would not be interrupted.
Yes, sir, he resumed, the Scotch boy Sandy. We was at school together in Edinburgh, where I got the most o my edication, and I never did see such a boy, sir, for goin into
Yes, yes, Lancey, I know; but I havent time to talk about him just now. We are going to the bit of waste ground in the hollow; follow us there.
I was obliged to cut him short, because this Scotch hero of his was a subject on which he could not resist dilating on the slightest encouragement.
Arrived at the waste ground, we met the manager of a neighbouring mine, who was deeply learned in everything connected with blasting.
I have brought my mother and sister, you see, Mr Jones, said I, as we approached. They dont quite believe in the giant-power which is under your control; they seem to think that it is only a little stronger than gunpowder.
We can soon change their views on that point, said the manager, with a slight bow to the ladies, while I introduced Nicholas as an officer of the Russian army.
This is one of the stones you wish to blast, is it not? said Mr Jones, laying his hand on an enormous boulder that weighed probably several tons.
It is, I answered.
The manager was a man of actiongrave of countenance and of few words. He drew a flask from his pocket and emptied its contents, a large quantity of gunpowder, on the boulder. Asking us to stand a little back, he applied a slow match to the heap, and retired several paces.
In a few seconds the powder went off with a violent puff and a vast cloud of smoke. The result was a little shriek of alarm from my mother, and an exclamation from Bella.
Not much effect from that, you see, said the manager, pointing to the blackened stone, yet it was a large quantity of powder, which, if fired in a cavity inside the stone, would have blown it to pieces. Here, now, is a small quantity of dynamite. (He produced a cartridge about two inches in length, similar to that which I had shown to my mother at breakfast.) Into this cartridge I shall insert a detonator cap, which is fastened to the end of a Pickford fusethus.
As he spoke, he inserted into the cartridge the end of the fuse, to which was attached a small cap filled with fulminate of mercury, and tied it tightly up. This done, he laid the cartridge on the top of the boulder, placed two or three similar cartridges beside it, and covered all with a small quantity of sand, leaving the other end of the fuse projecting.
Why the sand? asked Bella.
Because a slight amount of confinement is advantageous, replied Mr Jones. If I were to bore a short hole in the stone, and put the dynamite therein, the result would be still more effective; but the covering I have put on it will suffice, and will serve all the better to show the great difference between this explosive and gunpowder.
But, said my mother, who had a tendency to become suddenly interested in things when she began to have a faint understanding of them; but, Mr Jones, you did not give the powder fair play. If you had covered it with sand, would not its effect have been more powerful?
Not on the stone, madam; it would only have blown off its covering with violence, that would have been all. Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will retire behind the shelter of that old beech-tree, I will light the fuse.
We did as we were desired. The manager lighted the fuse, and followed us. In a few moments there occurred an explosion so violent that the huge boulder was shattered into several pieces, which were quite small enough to be lifted and carted away.
Most amazing! exclaimed Bella, with enthusiasm.
It was quite obvious that she had no anticipation of such a thorough result. Nicholas, too, who I may mention had no natural turn of taste for such matters, was roused to a state of inquiry.
To a question put by him, Mr Jones explained that, taking its powers into consideration, dynamite was cheaper than gunpowder, and that it saved much labour, as it would have taken two men a considerable time to have bored an ordinary blasthole in the boulder he had just broken up.
I now led the way to another part of the ground on which grew a large beech-tree, whose giant roots took a firm grasp of the ground. It was a hundred years old at least; about twelve feet in circumference, and sixty feet high. One similar tree I had had cut down; but the labour had been very great, and the removal of the stump excessively troublesome as well as costly.
Mr Jones now went to work at the forest-giant. In the ground underneath the tree he ordered Lancey to make a hole with a crowbar. Into this he pressed some cartridges of dynamite with a wooden rammer. Then the cartridge, with the detonator inside of it; and the fuse, extending from its mouth, was placed in contact with the charge under the tree. The hole was next closed up with some earth, leaving about a foot of the fuse outside. The light was then applied, and we retired to a safe distance. In a few moments the charge exploded. The tree seemed to rise from its bed. All the earth under it was blown out, and the roots were torn up and broken, with the exception of four of the largest, which were fully ten inches in diameter. A small charge of dynamite inserted under each of these completed the work, and the old giant, slowly bowing forward, laid his venerable head upon the ground.
Another charge was next placed in the soil under some loose and decayed roots, which were easily broken to pieces, so as to permit of their removal. Thus, in a short time and at little cost, were trees and roots and boulders torn up and shattered.
But is dynamite not very dangerous, Mr Jones? asked my mother, as we walked slowly homeward.
Not at all dangerous,at least not worth speaking of, replied the manager; nitro-glycerine by itself is indeed very dangerous, being easily exploded by concussion or mere vibration; but when mixed with infusorial earth and thus converted into dynamite, it is one of the safest explosives in existencenot quite so safe, indeed, as gun-cotton, but much more so than gunpowder. Any sort of fire will explode gunpowder, but any sort of fire will not explode dynamite; it will only cause it to burn. It requires a detonator to explode it with violence. Without its detonator, dynamite is a sleeping giant.
Ay, mother, said I, taking up the subject, the case stands thus: gunpowder is a big athlete, who slumbers lightly; any spark can wake him to violent action: but dynamite is a bigger athlete, who sleeps so soundly that a spark or flame can only rouse him to moderate rage; it requires a special shake to make him wide-awake, but when thus roused his fury is terrific, as you have just seen. And now, I added, as we drew near the house, we will change the subject, because I have this morning received two letters, which demand the united consideration of our whole party. I will therefore call up Bella and Nicholas, who have fallen behind, as usual. Mr Jones will excuse my talking of family matters for a few minutes, as replies must be sent by return of post.
I then explained that one of the letters was an invitation to me and my mother and sister, with any friends who might chance to be visiting us, to go to Portsmouth to witness a variety of interesting experiments with torpedoes and such warlike things; while the other letter was an offer by a friend, of a schooner-built yacht for a moderate sum.
Now, Nicholas, said I, apologetically, Im sorry to give you such an explosive reception, but it cannot be helped. If you dont care about torpedoes, you may remain here with my mother and Bella; but if you would like to go, I shall be happy to introduce you to one or two of my naval friends. For myself, I must go, because
We will all go, Jeff, interrupted Bella; nothing could be more appropriate as a sequel to this mornings experiments. A day among the torpedoes will be most interesting, wont it?
She looked up at Nicholas, on whose arm she leaned. He looked down with that peculiar smile of his which seemed to lie more in his eyes than on his lips, and muttered something about a day anywhere being, etcetera, etcetera.
My mother remarked that she did not understand exactly what a torpedo was, and looked at me for an explanation. I confess that her remark surprised me, for during the course of my investigations and inventions, I had frequently mentioned the subject of torpedoes to her, and once or twice had given her a particular description of the destructive machine. However, as she had evidently forgotten all about it, and as I cannot resist the temptation to elucidate complex subjects when opportunity offers, I began:
It is a machine, mother, which
Which bursts, interrupted Bella, with a little laugh.
But that is no explanation, dear, returned my mother; at least not a distinctive one, for guns burst sometimes, and soap-bubbles burst, and eggs burst occasionally.