In a little while it seemed to me as though I had always been alone on the moon. I hunted for a time with a certain intentness, but the heat was still very great, and the thinness of the air felt like a hoop1 about one's chest. I came presently into a hollow basin bristling3 with tall, brown, dry fronds4 about its edge, and I sat down under these to rest and cool. I intended to rest for only a little while. I put down my clubs beside me, and sat resting my chin on my hands. I saw with a sort of colourless interest that the rocks of the basin, where here and there the crackling dry lichens5 had shrunk away to show them, were all veined and splattered with gold, that here and there bosses of rounded and wrinkled gold projected from among the litter. What did that matter now? A sort of languor6 had possession of my limbs and mind, I did not believe for a moment that we should ever find the sphere in that vast desiccated wilderness7. I seemed to lack a motive8 for effort until the Selenites should come. Then I supposed I should exert myself, obeying that unreasonable9 imperative10 that urges a man before all things to preserve and defend his life, albeit11 he may preserve it only to die more painfully in a little while.
Why had we come to the moon?
The thing presented itself to me as a perplexing problem. What is this spirit in man that urges him for ever to depart from happiness and security, to toil12, to place himself in danger, to risk even a reasonable certainty of death? It dawned upon me up there in the moon as a thing I ought always to have known, that man is not made simply to go about being safe and comfortable and well fed and amused. Almost any man, if you put the thing to him, not in words, but in the shape of opportunities, will show that he knob as much. Against his interest, against his happiness, he is constantly being driven to do unreasonable things. Some force not himself impels13 him, and go he must. But why? Why? Sitting there in the midst of that useless moon gold, amidst the things of another world, I took count of all my life. Assuming I was to die a castaway upon the moon, I failed altogether to see what purpose I had served. I got no light on that point, but at any rate it was clearer to me than it had ever been in my life before that I was not serving my own purpose, that all my life I had in truth never served the purposes of my private life. Whose purposes, what purposes, was I serving? ... I ceased to speculate on why we had come to the moon, and took a wider sweep. Why had I come to the earth? Why had I a private life at all? ... I lost myself at last in bottomless speculations14....
My thoughts became vague and cloudy, no longer leading in definite directions. I had not felt heavy or weary--I cannot imagine one doing so upon the moon--but I suppose I was greatly fatigued15. At any rate I slept.
Slumbering16 there rested me greatly, I think, and the sun was setting and the violence of the heat abating17, through all the time I slumbered18. When at last I was roused from my slumbers19 by a remote clamour, I felt active and capable again. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms. I rose to my feet--I was a little stiff--and at once prepared to resume my search. I shouldered my golden clubs, one on each shoulder, and went on out of the ravine of the gold-veined rocks.
The sun was certainly lower, much lower than it had been; the air was very much cooler. I perceived I must have slept some time. It seemed to me that a faint touch of misty20 blueness hung about the western cliff I leapt to a little boss of rock and surveyed the crater21. I could see no signs of mooncalves or Selenites, nor could I see Cavor, but I could see my handkerchief far off, spread out on its thicket22 of thorns. I looked bout2 me, and then leapt forward to the next convenient view-point.
I beat my round in a semicircle, and back again in a still remoter crescent. It was very fatiguing23 and hopeless. The air was really very much cooler, and it seemed to me that the shadow under the westward24 cliff was growing broad. Ever and again I stopped and reconnoitred, but there was no sign of Cavor, no sign of Selenites; and it seemed to me the mooncalves must have been driven into the interior again--I could see none of them. I became more and more desirous of seeing Cavor. The winged outline of the sun had sunk now, until it was scarcely the distance of its diameter from the rim25 of the sky. I was oppressed by the idea that the Selenites would presently close their lids and valves, and shut us out under the inexorable onrush of the lunar night. It seemed to me high time that he abandoned his search, and that we took counsel together. I felt how urgent it was that we should decide soon upon our course. We had failed to find the sphere, we no longer had time to seek it, and once these valves were closed with us outside, we were lost men. The great night of space would descend26 upon us--that blackness of the void which is the only absolute death. All my being shrank from that approach. We must get into the moon again, though we were slain27 in doing it. I was haunted by a vision of our freezing to death, of our hammering with our last strength on the valve of the great pit.
I took no thought any more of the sphere. I thought only of finding Cavor again. I was half inclined to go back into the moon without him, rather than seek him until it was too late. I was already half-way back towards our handkerchief, when suddenly--
I saw the sphere!
I did not find it so much as it found me. It was lying much farther to the westward than I had gone, and the sloping rays of the sinking sun reflected from its glass had suddenly proclaimed its presence in a dazzling beam. For an instant I thought this was some new device of the Selenites against us, and then I understood.
I threw up my arms, shouted a ghostly shout, and set off in vast leaps towards it. I missed one of my leaps and dropped into a deep ravine and twisted my ankle, and after that I stumbled at almost every leap. I was in a state of hysterical28 agitation29, trembling violently, and quite breathless long before I got to it. Three times at least I had to stop with my hands resting on my side and in spite of the thin dryness of the air, the perspiration30 was wet upon my face.
I thought of nothing but the sphere until I reached it, I forgot even my trouble of Cavor's whereabouts. My last leap flung me with my hands hard against its glass; then I lay against it panting, and trying vainly to shout, "Cavor! here is the sphere!" When I had recovered a little I peered through the thick glass, and the things inside seemed tumbled. I stooped to peer closer. Then I attempted to get in. I had to hoist32 it over a little to get my head through the manhole. The screw stopper was inside, and I could see now that nothing had been touched, nothing had suffered. It lay there as we had left it when we had dropped out amidst the snow. For a time I was wholly occupied in making and remaking this inventory33. I found I was trembling violently. It was good to see that familiar dark interior again! I cannot tell you how good. Presently I crept inside and sat down among the things. I looked through the glass at the moon world and shivered. I placed my gold clubs upon the table, and sought out and took a little food; not so much because I wanted it, but because it was there. Then it occurred to me that it was time to go out and signal for Cavor. But I did not go out and signal for Cavor forthwith. Something held me to the sphere.
After all, everything was coming right. There would be still time for us to get more of the magic stone that gives one mastery over men. Away there, close handy, was gold for the picking up; and the sphere would travel as well half full of gold as though it were empty. We could go back now, masters of ourselves and our world, and then--
I roused myself at last, and with an effort got myself out of the sphere. I shivered as I emerged, for the evening air was growing very cold. I stood in the hollow staring about me. I scrutinised the bushes round me very carefully before I leapt to the rocky shelf hard by, and took once more what had been my first leap in the moon. But now I made it with no effort whatever.
The growth and decay of the vegetation had gone on apace, and the whole aspect of the rocks had changed, but still it was possible to make out the slope on which the seeds had germinated34, and the rocky mass from which we had taken our first view of the crater. But the spiky35 shrub36 on the slope stood brown and sere37 now, and thirty feet high, and cast long shadows that stretched out of sight, and the little seeds that clustered in its upper branches were brown and ripe. Its work was done, and it was brittle38 and ready to fall and crumple39 under the freezing air, so soon as the nightfall came. And the huge cacti40, that had swollen41 as we watched them, had long since burst and scattered42 their spores43 to the four quarters of the moon. Amazing little corner in the universe--the landing place of men!
Some day, thought I, I will have an inscription44 standing45 there right in the midst of the hollow. It came to me, if only this teeming46 world within knew of the full import of the moment, how furious its tumult47 would become!
But as yet it could scarcely be dreaming of the significance of our coming. For if it did, the crater would surely be an uproar48 of pursuit, instead of as still as death! I looked about for some place from which I might signal Cavor, and saw that same patch of rock to which he had leapt from my present standpoint, still bare and barren in the sun. For a moment I hesitated at going so far from the sphere. Then with a pang49 of shame at that hesitation50, I leapt....
From this vantage point I surveyed the crater again. Far away at the top of the enormous shadow I cast was the little white handkerchief fluttering on the bushes. It was very little and very far, and Cavor was not in sight. It seemed to me that by this time he ought to be looking for me. That was the agreement. But he was nowhere to be seen.
I stood waiting and watching, hands shading my eyes, expecting every moment to distinguish him. Very probably I stood there for quite a long time. I tried to shout, and was reminded of the thinness of the air. I made an undecided step back towards the sphere. But a lurking51 dread52 of the Selenites made me hesitate to signal my whereabouts by hoisting53 one of our sleeping-blankets on to the adjacent scrub. I searched the crater again.
It had an effect of emptiness that chilled me. And it was still. Any sound from the Selenites in the world beneath had died away. It was as still as death. Save for the faint stir of the shrub about me in the little breeze that was rising, there was no sound nor shadow of a sound. And the breeze blew chill.
Confound Cavor!
I took a deep breath. I put my hands to the sides of my mouth. "Cavor!" I bawled54, and the sound was like some manikin shouting far away.
I looked at the handkerchief, I looked behind me at the broadening shadow of the westward cliff I looked under my hand at the sun. It seemed to me that almost visibly it was creeping down the sky. I felt I must act instantly if I was to save Cavor. I whipped off my vest and flung it as a mark on the sere bayonets of the shrubs55 behind me, and then set off in a straight line towards the handkerchief. Perhaps it was a couple of miles away--a matter of a few hundred leaps and strides. I have already told how one seemed to hang through those lunar leaps. In each suspense56 I sought Cavor, and marvelled57 why he should be hidden. In each leap I could feel the sun setting behind me. Each time I touched the ground I was tempted31 to go back.
A last leap and I was in the depression below our handkerchief, a stride, and I stood on our former vantage point within arms' reach of it. I stood up straight and scanned the world about me, between its lengthening58 bars of shadow. Far away, down a long declivity59, was the opening of the tunnel up which we had fled, and my shadow reached towards it, stretched towards it, and touched it, like a finger of the night.
Not a sign of Cavor, not a sound in all the stillness, only the stir and waving of the scrub and of the shadows increased. And suddenly and violently I shivered. "Cav--" I began, and realised once more the uselessness of the human voice in that thin air. Silence. The silence of death.
Then it was my eye caught something--a little thing lying, perhaps fifty yards away down the slope, amidst a litter of bent60 and broken branches. What was it? I knew, and yet for some reason I would not know. I went nearer to it. It was the little cricket-cap Cavor had worn. I did not touch it, I stood looking at it.
I saw then that the scattered branches about it had been forcibly smashed and trampled61. I hesitated, stepped forward, and picked it up.
I stood with Cavor's cap in my hand, staring at the trampled reeds and thorns about me. On some, of them were little smears62 of something dark, something that I dared not touch. A dozen yards away, perhaps, the rising breeze dragged something into view, something small and vividly63 white.
It was a little piece of paper crumpled64 tightly, as though it had been clutched tightly. I picked it up, and on it were smears of red. My eye caught faint pencil marks. I smoothed it out, and saw uneven65 and broken writing ending at last in a crooked66 streak67 up on the paper.
I set myself to decipher this.
"I have been injured about the knee, I think my kneecap is hurt, and I cannot run or crawl," it began--pretty distinctly written.
Then less legibly: "They have been chasing me for some time, and it is only a question of"--the word "time" seemed to have been written here and erased68 in favour of something illegible--"before they get me. They are beating all about me."
Then the writing became convulsive. "I can hear them," I guessed the tracing meant, and then it was quite unreadable for a space. Then came a little string of words that were quite distinct: "a different sort of Selenite altogether, who appears to be directing the--" The writing became a mere69 hasty confusion again.
"They have larger brain cases--much larger, and slenderer bodies, and very short legs. They make gentle noises, and move with organized deliberation...
"And though I am wounded and helpless here, their appearance still gives me hope." That was like Cavor. "They have not shot at me or attempted... injury. I intend--"
Then came the sudden streak of the pencil across the paper, and on the back and edges--blood!
And as I stood there stupid, and perplexed70, with this dumbfounding relic71 in my hand, something very soft and light and chill touched my hand for a moment and ceased to be, and then a thing, a little white speck72, drifted athwart a shadow. It was a tiny snowflake, the first snowflake, the herald73 of the night.
I looked up with a start, and the sky had darkened almost to blackness, and was thick with a gathering74 multitude of coldly watchful75 stars. I looked eastward76, and the light of that shrivelled world was touched with sombre bronze; westward, and the sun robbed now by a thickening white mist of half its heat and splendour, was touching77 the crater rim, was sinking out of sight, and all the shrubs and jagged and tumbled rocks stood out against it in a bristling disorder78 of black shapes. Into the great lake of darkness westward, a vast wreath of mist was sinking. A cold wind set all the crater shivering. Suddenly, for a moment, I was in a puff79 of falling snow, and all the world about me gray and dim.
And then it was I heard, not loud and penetrating80 as at first, but faint and dim like a dying voice, that tolling81, that same tolling that had welcomed the coming of the day: Boom!... Boom!... Boom!...
It echoed about the crater, it seemed to throb82 with the throbbing83 of the greater stars, the blood-red crescent of the sun's disc sank as it tolled84 out: Boom!... Boom!... Boom!...
What had happened to Cavor? All through that tolling I stood there stupidly, and at last the tolling ceased.
And suddenly the open mouth of the tunnel down below there, shut like an eye and vanished out of sight.
Then indeed was I alone.
Over me, around me, closing in on me, embracing me ever nearer, was the Eternal; that which was before the beginning, and that which triumphs over the end; that enormous void in which all light and life and being is but the thin and vanishing splendour of a falling star, the cold, the stillness, the silence--the infinite and final Night of space.
The sense of solitude85 and desolation became the sense of an overwhelming presence that stooped towards me, that almost touched me.
"No," I cried. "No! Not yet! not yet! Wait! Wait! Oh, wait!" My voice went up to a shriek86. I flung the crumpled paper from me, scrambled87 back to the crest88 to take my bearings, and then, with all the will that was in me, leapt out towards the mark I had left, dim and distant now in the very margin89 of the shadow.
Leap, leap, leap, and each leap was seven ages.
Before me the pale serpent-girdled section of the sun sank and sank, and the advancing shadow swept to seize the sphere before I could reach it. I was two miles away, a hundred leaps or more, and the air about me was thinning out as it thins under an air-pump, and the cold was gripping at my joints90. But had I died, I should have died leaping. Once, and then again my foot slipped on the gathering snow as I leapt and shortened my leap; once I fell short into bushes that crashed and smashed into dusty chips and nothingness, and once I stumbled as I dropped and rolled head over heels into a gully, and rose bruised91 and bleeding and confused as to my direction.
But such incidents were as nothing to the intervals92, those awful pauses when one drifted through the air towards that pouring tide of night. My breathing made a piping noise, and it was as though knives were whirling in my lungs. My heart seemed to beat against the top of my brain. "Shall I reach it? O Heaven! Shall I reach it?"
My whole being became anguish93.
"Lie down!" screamed my pain and despair; "lie down!"
The nearer I struggled, the more awfully94 remote it seemed. I was numb95, I stumbled, I bruised and cut myself and did not bleed.
It was in sight.
I fell on all fours, and my lungs whooped96.
I crawled. The frost gathered on my lips, icicles hung from my moustache, I was white with the freezing atmosphere.
I was a dozen yards from it. My eyes had become dim. "Lie down!" screamed despair; "lie down!"
I touched it, and halted. "Too late!" screamed despair; "lie down!"
I fought stiffly with it. I was on the manhole lip, a stupefied, half-dead being. The snow was all about me. I pulled myself in. There lurked97 within a little warmer air.
The snowflakes--the airflakes--danced in about me, as I tried with chilling hands to thrust the valve in and spun98 it tight and hard. I sobbed99. "I will," I chattered100 in my teeth. And then, with fingers that quivered and felt brittle, I turned to the shutter101 studs.
As I fumbled102 with the switches--for I had never controlled them before--I could see dimly through the steaming glass the blazing red streamers of the sinking sun, dancing and flickering103 through the snowstorm, and the black forms of the scrub thickening and bending and breaking beneath the accumulating snow. Thicker whirled the snow and thicker, black against the light. What if even now the switches overcame me? Then something clicked under my hands, and in an instant that last vision of the moon world was hidden from my eyes. I was in the silence and darkness the inter-planetary sphere.
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hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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fronds
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| n.蕨类或棕榈类植物的叶子( frond的名词复数 ) | |
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lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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impels
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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abating
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| 减少( abate的现在分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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germinated
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| v.（使）发芽( germinate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spiky
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| adj.长而尖的，大钉似的 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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sere
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| adj.干枯的；n.演替系列 | |
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brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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crumple
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| v.把...弄皱，满是皱痕，压碎，崩溃 | |
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cacti
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| n.（复）仙人掌 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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spores
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| n.（细菌、苔藓、蕨类植物）孢子( spore的名词复数 )v.（细菌、苔藓、蕨类植物）孢子( spore的第三人称单数 ) | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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hoisting
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| 起重，提升 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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declivity
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| n.下坡，倾斜面 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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smears
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| 污迹( smear的名词复数 )； 污斑； （显微镜的）涂片； 诽谤 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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tolled
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| 鸣钟（toll的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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102
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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