Unfortunately, the instantaneous explosion of such a vast quantity of
gun-cotton, by giving rise to a violent commotion in the atmosphere,
generated so much vapor and mist as to render the Moon invisible for
several nights to the innumerable watchers in the Western Hemisphere,
who vainly tried to catch sight of her.

In the meantime, J.T. Marston, the Secretary of the Gun Club, and a most
devoted friend of Barbican's, had started for Long's Peak, Colorado, on
the summit of which the immense telescope, already alluded to, had been
erected; it was of the reflecting kind, and possessed power sufficient
to bring the Moon within a distance of five miles. While Marston was
prosecuting his long journey with all possible speed, Professor
Belfast, who had charge of the telescope, was endeavoring to catch a
glimpse of the Projectile, but for a long time with no success. The
hazy, cloudy weather lasted for more than a week, to the great disgust
of the public at large. People even began to fear that further
observation would have to be deferred to the 3d of the following month,
January, as during the latter half of December the waning Moon could not
possibly give light enough to render the Projectile visible.

At last, however, to the unbounded satisfaction of all, a violent
tempest suddenly cleared the sky, and on the 13th of December, shortly
after midnight, the Moon, verging towards her last quarter, revealed
herself sharp and bright on the dark background of the starry firmament.

That same morning, a few hours before Marston's arrival at the summit of
Long's Peak, a very remarkable telegram had been dispatched by Professor
Belfast to the Smithsonian Institute, Washington. It announced: