Descent Into Infinity: A Mad Maps Mitchell Mathsventure, #1

By W E Cookson

Descent Into Infinity, a Numba Jungle MathVenture./Prime Numbers and how to find them at a glance.

 

Let's get your 10 to 14 year olds exploring number patterns while exploring the perilous perils of the Arrappa-wappa-wuppa rainforests in this rippin' yarn adventure with Mad Maps Mitchell and his downtrodden, yet ever-faithful, sidekick, Hummy.
Whether a whiz at mathematics or lacking a bit of confidence, readers will not only be able to enjoy Mitchell's intrepid adventures but also be introduced to a world of number tips and tricks to develop speed, accuracy, and self-assurance with numbers. And most of all, enjoyment with mathematics.

Just a bit of practice and any reader will be able to amaze friends and family by solving sums quicker than a calculator.
* Tell at a glance if any number to 10,000 is a prime.
* Square 25, 35, 45 etc in a flash.
* Find the cube roots of numbers up to a million in seconds.

Descent Into Infinity is a rippin' yarn adventure with a bit of mathematics - just a bit - and a lot of cliffhangers as our heroes face perilous perils and terrible terrors such as The Orbs of Doom, The Hitherum-Ditherum and The Terrible Tanglewood.

Gasp as our heroes overcome the most menacing forces of nature, horrific jungle monsters, and the descent of the highest falls on Earth.

Written to give readers, however able, insightful questions and confidence-building tips to raise speed, accuracy and enjoyment with numbers. Descent into Infinity is infinitely amusing, infinitely enlightening and an infinitely good adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W E Cookson
• Release date: Mar 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9781739382810

Book preview

Table of Contents

Descent Into Infinity (A Mad Maps Mitchell Mathsventure, #1)

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The PERILOUS PERILS of MAD MAPS MITCHELL

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W E COOKSON

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DESCENT

INTO

INFINITY

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A Numba Jungle MathVenture

PRIMES & HOW TO FIND THEM AT A GLANCE

Copyright © 2024 by W E Cookson

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as quotes within reviews.

The story, its principal characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), nor places, buildings and products, is intended or should be inferred.

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ISBN: 978-1-7393828-1-0 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-7393828-0-3 (paperback, Summer 2024)

The Perilous Perils of Mad Maps Mitchell

– Book One

DESCENT INTO INFINITY

CONTENTS

THE RIVER OF INFINITY

VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY

THE ORBS OF DOOM

THE HITHERUM-DITHERUM

THE TERRIBLE TANGLEWOOD TRAIL

THE RAPIDS OF INFINITY

THE VORTEX OF INFINITY

THE DESCENT INTO INFINITY

MITCHELL’S STORY – TRIUMPH OR TRAGEDY?

APPENDICES

BIBLIOGRAPHY

GLOSSARY

Mapmaker after mapmaker sank to his knees,

gasping, gurgling, choking, croaking,

puking great gobs of slime.

HUMDRUM’S LAMENT

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Oh, Dear Hummy, carrying the bag

Oh dear, Hummy, boots tied up with rag

Yes, Dear Hummy, along with us please tag

No, Dear Hummy, your knees’ll never sag

Rush, Dear Hummy, this way zig, now zag

Shush, Dear Hummy, onward now, don’t flag

Push, Dear Hummy, or behind the rest you’ll lag

Oh dear, Hummy, carrying the bag

Oh dear, Hummy, carrying the bag

Oh dear, Hummy, carrying the bag.

MAD MAPS MITCHELL

&

THE RIVER OF INFINITY

Chapter One

The River of Infinity.

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‘They get so far, look over into the abyss, then...

turn back.’

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Must show you these charts. They’re old, a bit curled at the edges; some parts water-stained, some smudgy. The work of arguably the greatest explorer of all time, Algernon Marmaduke Mitchell. Mad Maps Mitchell to his fellow explorers.

His story must be told. The full story. The story of the hand that drew these charts back then in 1884; probably the last thing that hand ever drew.

Take a look at the squiggly line across the chart. That’s The River of Infinity, stretching, stretching, stretching – a never-ending stretch – into the unknown. Into the very depths of the tropical rainforests. Into the heart of darkness. Note the accuracy of every wiggle, every wriggle; Mitchell was such a master of precision mapping.

Run your finger along the squiggle and eventually you’ll find at its end a dark splodge – The Scraggy Rat – an impenetrable ‘horseshoe’ plateau of solid granite, 370 metres high, sides so steep and slippery. Go deep into the horseshoe’s cleft (early explorers called this gap the Jaws of the Rat). Therein lies mankind’s greatest secret, the very basis of civilisation, of all human progress, of all science, of so much learning. The Numba Jungle.

Yes, The Numba Jungle, the home of our Numba Trees. A tree for every number ever used by every pupil, every scientist, engineer, mathematician. Every number you’ve ever seen in your classroom. That’s where they come from. Deep inside The Jaws.

But beware those jaws...

THEY BITE.

Erm? The Numba Jungle. Numbers growing on trees. Not something you’d ever heard about at your school? How come? Weren’t you listening? Don’t they teach you anything these days?

Suppose that doesn’t surprise me. For the best part of a century, teachers have denied that there’s such a place as The Numba Jungle. They always have and I guess they always will. Perhaps its location is an official secret or something. The Authorities would hardly want everyone to know where numbers grow. If something bad happened to our Numba Trees and numbers were lost, teachers might have to scrap all their mathematics lessons – we wouldn’t want that now, would we?

Back to our hero, Algernon Marmaduke Mitchell. What an inspiration, what a leader. An explorer of such learning, such integrity, such dedication... every morning you’d find Mitchell there, deep in thought in The Grand Hall of The Grand Library in Edinburgh, alone at his favourite oak desk.

You know the desk? It’s that heavy-legged one in the Reference Section near the Men of Eminence shelves. See those scratches on the desk? Shussssh. Best speak quietly just now. (No. Not because I’ve brought you into a library). One of Mitchell’s ancestors carved those marks. There, yes, those... on the side of that leg... the three Ps. See them now? The Mitchell family crest. Such a stirring inscription. Such a great family.

Mitchell, a man of vision. Every morning, same room, same table, head down, preparing, planning, waiting. That’s where you’d find him. Waiting for the official invitation to lead an expedition to The Numba Jungle. Patiently awaiting destiny to call.

Ever since... ever since... the day he learnt about The Golden Doodle and the inspired trade her crew made with the local Arrappawappa-wappa-wuppa tribesmen (Arrappawappawappas for short). Ten jars of raspberry jam for a bagful of Numba seeds... what a bargain. Ever since he’d learnt of those early Doodle days, The Numba Jungle had become Mitchell’s great obsession; the utter distinction of becoming the first Western explorer to map its secrets, the first to touch Numba Trees, to feel their bark, to measure their girth, to chart where each one grows.

‘If anyone deserves to be the first to discover the great treasures within the Rat’s Jaws – then surely ’tis I. For am I not a Mitchell, a master planner? With a master plan to plan?’

Numba Trees. Trees for every number anyone’s ever needed; prime numbers, positive integers, numbers that are multiples, numbers that are factors. There’d be fame, fortune, and no doubt a statue on the Westminster Embankment next to the Houses of Parliament for whoever mapped Numbas first. Perhaps a ticker-tape parade down Fifth Avenue to Times Square. Such an honour. An honour surely awaiting a Mitchell.

But great honour and destiny wouldn’t be the only thing awaiting any brave mapmaker on his way to The Numba Jungle. We must never forget those perilous perils and terrible terrors. Out there. In those rainforests.

Lurking.

LOOSE THOUGHTS ON CHAPTER ONE.

Mitchell’s 1883 expedition to The Numba Jungle

Explorers, jungles, perilous journeys into the unknown. Nowadays, children just aren’t being taught all of that good stuff. Some history teachers seem to regard 19th-century history as a thing of the past. As for remote tropical rainforests, well, a lot of geography teachers just don’t want to go there. Too many terrible terrors in those rainforests.

But this book will ‘raise the lid’ and reveal the secrets those rotten teachers seem to be keeping from you. Here’s where you’ll find out, once and for all, where our numbers come from, where Numba Trees grow and what lurks out there in those rainforests.

For sure, you are about to embark on a journey of great discovery. Of great terror. Of great tragedy.

Chapter Two

A Grander Table.

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Prove it? Prove what? Prove numbers grow on trees? Of course, I can.

Later... if I’ve time.

OK, I promise.

But NOT now.

The Grand Table in The Grand Hall of The Grand Library in Edinburgh wasn’t the only Grand Table in a Grand Hall. The Royal and American Geographical Institution had an even grander Grand Table in an even grander Grand Hall. And the men of eminence sitting around that table had power and money and ships and... theodolites. Every month, they’d be there sitting. Deciding. Some days, both sitting and deciding.

Deciding which explorer to send where. ‘Who’s available to map that desert in Africa? Or the highest waterfall in the Rockies? Or that spikey bit on the top of Australia? And what about Antarctica? Who should we send next?’

By 1883, as far as mapping The Numba Jungle was concerned, the years had passed by with nothing to show. Explorers came, explorers went. Whoever the Institution sent to the Arrappawappawappas Archipelago, no-one seemed too keen to venture much further down The River of Infinity than the extremely daunting, impenetrable, totally impassable, Falls of Infinity. Feared by all.

Even the local Arrappawappa-wappa-wuppa tribesmen (Arrappawappas for short) warn that if anyone ever does descend The Falls and journeys on to The Scraggy Rat, then there are Spirits of the Forest down there.

‘Spirits of the Forest – and they’ll squish your brains into mush.’

Back in Edinburgh – who’s that? That short, hefty-legged young fellow stumbling up the steps to The Grand Hall of The Grand Library, his cheeks exploding with anticipation, perspiration, perspicacity, perspication (every pers and every ication you can think of. If you can’t think of any -ications, then make a few up. I do). It’s none other than Humdrum, Mitchell’s faithful house-servant. In those days, every great explorer had a young house-servant to scuttle the clinker and slosh up the slutch.

And what’s that that Humdrum is carrying? A big brown envelope with an embossed wax seal. Maroon it is. The seal, not the envelope (I told you, it’s plain brown). It looks important. The mark of some Royal bunch. The Royal and American Geographical Institution, no less. Mitchell glances at the letter, then sinks his gaze back into the papers on his table and gives out a resigned sigh: ‘Not this time. Maybe not ever.’

With a grunt: ‘Well... what are you waiting for, house-boy? Go make yourself busy elsewhere; have you scrubbed the cobbles, yet?’

Eyes to feet, as so many times before, Humdrum shuffles away.

As far back as the mid-1870s, the expedition planners at The Royal and American Geographical Institution had The Numba Jungle top of their list. But Mitchell – master planner though he undoubtably was – was somewhere near the bottom. And he always would be while Sir Toby Bloater, President of the Institution, was sitting at the head of The Grand Table of geographers. You see, Sir Toby was the father of that up-and-coming explorer Archie Bloater. If anyone should get the honour, the fame, the fortune, the utter distinction of becoming the first explorer in history to map The Numba Jungle, then surely it should be Archie, such a deserving lad. The Institution had Archie’s name down for the Autumn 1885 expedition. He’d be 21 by then.

‘Yes,’ Sir Toby mumbled to himself, ‘Archie should be the first to touch the Numbas, to feel their bark, to chart where each Numba grows, every number anyone’s ever needed; prime numbers, positive integers, numbers that are multiples, numbers that are factors. There’d be fame, fortune, and no doubt a statue on the Westminster Embankment next to the Houses of Parliament for Archie when he mapped the Numbas first. He might even get a ticker-tape parade down Fifth Avenue to Times Square.’

But it was 1882. Things at the Institution were getting a bit desperate. You see, despite endless months of canoeing (well not endless, as months have end-dates) ... after many months, the leader of the 1882 expedition had been the first to stand atop The Falls of Infinity, the highest waterfall in the Universe. But that’s as far as he got; as he looked down, and down and down, his normally sturdy knees went all wobbly. ‘So far down it be, from the top you can’t see the bottom and from the bottom you can’t see the top,’ is how he described The Falls. (Which was a bit disingenuous, as they hadn’t got as far as the bottom to look up to the top.) Yet another expedition was to return empty-handed.

For much of the 19th-century, The Numba Jungle remained a mystery. By 1883, there was not a single contour to show. Chester A. Arthur and Queen Victoria were not amused. Neither was the newly appointed Director of Overseas Mapping at The Royal and American Geographical Institution: ‘Prima donnas all. They get so far, look over into the abyss, then... turn back,’ he is said to have said. ‘Call themselves elite cartographers; nought but craven cowards, the lot of them. It’s 1883, for goodness’ sake; been fifty years since the voyage of The Golden Doodle. At this rate, we’ll never get the place mapped. Who do we know who’s crazy enough to attempt the dangerous descent of The Falls of Infinity? Someone with a head for heights who won’t squirm