CHAPTER 7

Lost Men in the Moon

His face caught something of my dismay. He stood up and stared about him at the bushes that fenced us in and rose about us. He spoke with a sudden lack of assurance. "I think," he said slowly, "we left it ... somewhere ... about there."

He pointed a hesitating finger in a curve.

"I'm not sure. Anyhow," he said, with his eyes on me, "it can't be far."

We had both stood up; our eyes searched the thickening jungle round about us. North, south, east and west spread a tangle of dense plants. And somewhere, buried already among those plants, was our sphere, our home, our only hope of escape from this wilderness.

"I think, after all," he said, pointing suddenly, "it might be over there."

"No," I said. "We have turned in a curve. See! Here is the mark of my heels. It's clear the sphere must be more to the eastward, much more. No!—it must be over there."

"I think," said Cavor, "I kept the sun upon my right all the time."

"Every leap, it seems to me" I said, "my shadow flew before me."

We stared into one another's eyes. The area of the crater had become enormously vast to our imaginations.

"Good heavens! What fools we have been!"

"It's evident that we must find it again," said Cavor, "and that soon. The sun grows stronger. We should be fainting with the heat if it wasn't so dry. And ... I'm hungry."

I stared at him. "I am hungry, too," I said.

As calmly as possible we surveyed the endless rocks and bushes that formed the floor of the crater. I stared about me in the vain hope of recognizing some hill or bush that had been near the sphere. But everywhere was a confusing sameness, everywhere bushes, fungi and melting snow. The sun scorched and stung; we were hungry and confused. And even as we stood there, we became aware for the first time of a sound upon the moon other than the stir of the growing plants, the faint sighing of the wind, or the sounds that we ourselves had made.

Boom ... Boom ... Boom ... 

It came from beneath our feet, a sound underground. No sound that I can imagine could have astonished us more. It was deep, slow and deliberate, as though it was the striking of some gigantic buried clock.

Boom ... Boom ... Boom ... 

We questioned one another in faint voices. "A clock?"

"Like a clock!"

"What is it?"

"What can it be?"

The striking ceased. Had I indeed heard a sound?

I felt the pressure of Cavor's hand upon my arm. "Let us keep together," he whispered, "and look for the sphere. We must get back to the sphere. This is beyond our understanding."

"Which way shall we go?"

He hesitated. We felt the presence of unseen things about us and near us. What could they be? Where could they be? Was this desolate wilderness only the outer covering of some underground world? And if so, what sort of world? What sort of inhabitants might it not presently send out upon us?

And then, suddenly as an unexpected roar of thunder, came a sharp ringing sound as though great gates of metal had suddenly been thrown open.

We stood gaping helplessly. "I do not understand!" Cavor whispered close to my face. "We must find a hiding-place. If anything came ... "

We started off, moving stealthily. A sound like hammers striking a boiler hastened our steps. "We must crawl," whispered Cavor. We pushed our way among the thickening stems. At the heart of the jungle I stopped, and stared panting into Cavor's face.

"Underground," he whispered. "Below."

"They may come out."

"We must find the sphere!"

"Yes," I said; "but how?"

"Crawl till we come to it."

"But if we don't?"

"Keep hidden. See what they are like."

He thought. "Which way shall we go?"

"We must take our chance."

We peered this way and that. Then very cautiously, we began to crawl through the jungle, making so far as we could judge a circle, stopping at every waving fungus, intent only on the sphere from which we had so foolishly emerged. Ever and again from the earth beneath us came violent shocks, beatings, strange mechanical sounds. We dared not reach a position from which we could survey the crater. For long we saw nothing of the beings whose sounds we heard. It was all like a dream.

Everything about us was strange. The jungle was flooded in the glare of the sun, but the sky was still adorned with a few stars. Every other movement ended in a surprise, and the blood beat in our ears. And ever and again came that ringing sound of machinery, and presently—the bellowing of great beasts!