Floating by the side of the "Flying Cloud," and nearly of her size, I
discovered a dark, irregular object, and dragged myself to the edge of
the deck to investigate it more closely. The two came together, but
without damage or friction. They touched and parted, like substances
nearly at rest in still water. I put out my hand on the strange
visitor, and received a pretty severe shock, as though I had been
subjected to the action of an electric battery. At the same time, a
light, bluish flame ran over its surface, showing me more accurately
its form and dimensions. To the touch, it was solid and cold, like iron
or granite. I pressed upon it, and it yielded like a floating dish. I
tried to break off a fragment, but was unable to separate so much as a
scale.
A moment's reflection convinced me of the nature of this apparent
island in the air. It was an immense aerolite; and with this conviction
came the solution of my own painful state. We had unconsciously passed
beyond the controlling power of the earth's gravitation, into that
region of the upper atmosphere, where, science informs us, these
meteoric stones float in equilibrium, until some accidental impulse
throws them from their balance, when they are precipitated to the
surface of the earth.
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