The Mooncalf Pastures

So we two poor terrestrial castaways, lost in that wild-growing moon jungle, crawled in terror before the sounds that had come upon us. We crawled, as it seemed, a long time before we saw either Selenite or mooncalf, though we heard the bellowing and gruntulous noises of these latter continually drawing nearer to us. We crawled through stony ravines, over snow slopes, amidst fungi that ripped like thin bladders at our thrust, emitting a watery humour, over a perfect pavement of things like puff-balls, and beneath interminable thickets of scrub. And ever more helplessly our eyes sought for our abandoned sphere. The noise of the mooncalves would at times be a vast flat calf-like sound, at times it rose to an amazed and wrathy bellowing, and again it would become a clogged bestial sound, as though these unseen creatures had sought to eat and bellow at the same time.

So we two poor castaways from Earth, lost in the wild moon jungle, crawled in terror away from the sounds. We seemed to crawl for a long time before we saw a Selenite or a mooncalf. But we kept hearing the mooncalves bellowing and grunting as they drew nearer. We crawled through rocky ravines and over snowy slopes. We pushed through fungi that tore like thin bladders and released a watery liquid. We crawled over ground completely covered with things like puff-balls and beneath endless thickets of scrub. All the while, we searched more and more helplessly for our abandoned sphere. At times, the mooncalves made a vast, flat sound like a calf. At other times, the noise rose to a startled, angry bellowing. Then it would become a muffled, animal sound, as if the unseen creatures were trying to eat and bellow at once.

Our first view was but an inadequate transitory glimpse, yet none the less disturbing because it was incomplete. Cavor was crawling in front at the time, and he first was aware of their proximity. He stopped dead, arresting me with a single gesture.

Our first view was only a brief, incomplete glimpse, but it was no less disturbing for that. Cavor was crawling ahead of me and was the first to realize they were nearby. He stopped suddenly and signaled me to stop with a single gesture.

A crackling and smashing of the scrub appeared to be advancing directly upon us, and then, as we squatted close and endeavoured to judge of the nearness and direction of this noise, there came a terrific bellow behind us, so close and vehement that the tops of the bayonet scrub bent before it, and one felt the breath of it hot and moist. And, turning about, we saw indistinctly through a crowd of swaying stems the mooncalf’s shining sides, and the long line of its back loomed out against the sky.

The sound of scrub crackling and breaking seemed to be coming straight toward us. We crouched close together, trying to judge how near the noise was and where it was coming from. Then a tremendous bellow came from behind us. It was so close and fierce that the tops of the bayonet scrub bent before it. We could feel its hot, moist breath. We turned and saw the mooncalf’s shining sides indistinctly through a mass of swaying stems. The long line of its back loomed against the sky.

Of course it is hard for me now to say how much I saw at that time, because my impressions were corrected by subsequent observation. First of all impressions was its enormous size; the girth of its body was some fourscore feet, its length perhaps two hundred. Its sides rose and fell with its laboured breathing. I perceived that its gigantic, flabby body lay along the ground, and that its skin was of a corrugated white, dappling into blackness along the backbone. But of its feet we saw nothing. I think also that we saw then the profile at least of the almost brainless head, with its fat-encumbered neck, its slobbering omnivorous mouth, its little nostrils, and tight shut eyes. (For the mooncalf invariably shuts its eyes in the presence of the sun.) We had a glimpse of a vast red pit as it opened its mouth to bleat and bellow again; we had a breath from the pit, and then the monster heeled over like a ship, dragged forward along the ground, creasing all its leathery skin, rolled again, and so wallowed past us, smashing a path amidst the scrub, and was speedily hidden from our eyes by the dense interlacings beyond. Another appeared more distantly, and then another, and then, as though he was guiding these animated lumps of provender to their pasture, a Selenite came momentarily into ken. My grip upon Cavor’s foot became convulsive at the sight of him, and we remained motionless and peering long after he had passed out of our range.

Of course, it is hard for me to say now how much I saw then, because later observations corrected my impressions. My first impression was of its enormous size. Its body was about eighty feet around and perhaps two hundred feet long. Its sides rose and fell as it struggled to breathe. I could see its huge, flabby body lying on the ground. Its wrinkled skin was white, mottled with black along the backbone. But we saw nothing of its feet. I think we also saw at least the profile of its almost brainless head. Its neck was weighed down with fat. It had a slobbering mouth that could eat anything, little nostrils, and tightly shut eyes. (For the mooncalf always shuts its eyes in the presence of the sun.) We caught a glimpse of a vast red pit as it opened its mouth to bleat and bellow again. We felt its breath from the pit. Then the monster tipped over like a ship and dragged itself forward along the ground, creasing its leathery skin. It rolled again and wallowed past us, smashing a path through the scrub. The dense tangle of plants beyond soon hid it from sight. Another appeared farther away, and then another. Then a Selenite briefly came into view, as though he were guiding these living lumps of food to pasture. At the sight of him, my grip on Cavor’s foot tightened convulsively. We stayed motionless, peering out long after he had passed out of sight.

By contrast with the mooncalves he seemed a trivial being, a mere ant, scarcely five feet high. He was wearing garments of some leathery substance, so that no portion of his actual body appeared, but of this, of course, we were entirely ignorant. He presented himself, therefore, as a compact, bristling creature, having much of the quality of a complicated insect, with whip-like tentacles and a clanging arm projecting from his shining cylindrical body case. The form of his head was hidden by his enormous many-spiked helmet—we discovered afterwards that he used the spikes for prodding refractory mooncalves—and a pair of goggles of darkened glass, set very much at the side, gave a bird-like quality to the metallic apparatus that covered his face. His arms did not project beyond his body case, and he carried himself upon short legs that, wrapped though they were in warm coverings, seemed to our terrestrial eyes inordinately flimsy. They had very short thighs, very long shanks, and little feet.

Compared with the mooncalves, he seemed a tiny creature, a mere ant, barely five feet tall. He wore clothes made of some leathery material, which covered his entire body. Of course, we knew nothing of this at the time. So he appeared to be a compact, bristling creature, rather like a complicated insect. Whip-like tentacles and a clanging arm projected from his shiny cylindrical body case. His enormous, many-spiked helmet hid the shape of his head. We later discovered that he used the spikes to prod stubborn mooncalves. Dark glass goggles sat far to the sides of his face. They gave the metal apparatus covering his face a bird-like appearance. His arms did not extend beyond his body case. He stood on short legs that seemed extraordinarily flimsy to our earthly eyes, though they were wrapped in warm coverings. They had very short thighs, very long lower legs, and little feet.

In spite of his heavy-looking clothing, he was progressing with what would be, from the terrestrial point of view, very considerable strides, and his clanging arm was busy. The quality of his motion during the instant of his passing suggested haste and a certain anger, and soon after we had lost sight of him we heard the bellow of a mooncalf change abruptly into a short, sharp squeal followed by the scuffle of its acceleration. And gradually that bellowing receded, and then came to an end, as if the pastures sought had been attained.

Despite his heavy-looking clothes, he moved in strides that would have been very long on Earth. His clanging arm was busy. As he passed, his movements suggested haste and a certain anger. Soon after we lost sight of him, we heard a mooncalf's bellow suddenly turn into a short, sharp squeal. Then we heard the scuffling sound of the mooncalf speeding up. Gradually, the bellowing grew fainter and finally stopped, as if the mooncalf had reached the pastures it was looking for.

We listened. For a space the moon world was still. But it was some time before we resumed our crawling search for the vanished sphere.

We listened. For a while, the moon world was still. But it was some time before we resumed crawling around in search of the vanished sphere.

When next we saw mooncalves they were some little distance away from us in a place of tumbled rocks. The less vertical surfaces of the rocks were thick with a speckled green plant growing in dense mossy clumps, upon which these creatures were browsing. We stopped at the edge of the reeds amidst which we were crawling at the sight of them, peering out at them and looking round for a second glimpse of a Selenite. They lay against their food like stupendous slugs, huge, greasy hulls, eating greedily and noisily, with a sort of sobbing avidity. They seemed monsters of mere fatness, clumsy and overwhelmed to a degree that would make a Smithfield ox seem a model of agility. Their busy, writhing, chewing mouths, and eyes closed, together with the appetising sound of their munching, made up an effect of animal enjoyment that was singularly stimulating to our empty frames.

The next time we saw mooncalves, they were some distance away among jumbled rocks. A speckled green plant grew in thick, mossy clumps on the gentler slopes of the rocks. The creatures were grazing on it. At the sight of them, we stopped at the edge of the reeds we were crawling through. We peered out at them and looked around for another glimpse of a Selenite. They lay against their food like enormous slugs, huge, greasy bodies eating greedily and noisily, with an almost sobbing hunger. They seemed to be monsters made of fat, so clumsy and weighed down that a Smithfield ox would seem agile beside them. Their mouths were busy, writhing and chewing, and their eyes were closed. The sight of their animal enjoyment and the appetizing sound of their munching were strangely stirring to our hungry bodies.

“Hogs!” said Cavor, with unusual passion. “Disgusting hogs!” and after one glare of angry envy crawled off through the bushes to our right. I stayed long enough to see that the speckled plant was quite hopeless for human nourishment, then crawled after him, nibbling a quill of it between my teeth.

“Hogs!” said Cavor with unusual passion. “Disgusting hogs!” After one angry, envious glare, he crawled off through the bushes to our right. I stayed long enough to see that the speckled plant was no use as food for humans. Then I crawled after him, nibbling a quill of the plant between my teeth.

Presently we were arrested again by the proximity of a Selenite, and this time we were able to observe him more exactly. Now we could see that the Selenite covering was indeed clothing, and not a sort of crustacean integument. He was quite similar in his costume to the former one we had glimpsed, except that ends of something like wadding were protruding from his neck, and he stood on a promontory of rock and moved his head this way and that, as though he was surveying the crater. We lay quite still, fearing to attract his attention if we moved, and after a time he turned about and disappeared.

Soon, another Selenite nearby stopped us again. This time we could observe him more closely. Now we could see that his covering was indeed clothing, not a hard shell like a crustacean’s. His clothing was quite similar to that of the first Selenite we had glimpsed. But ends of something like padding stuck out from his neck. He stood on a rocky ledge and moved his head from side to side, as if surveying the crater. We lay quite still, afraid that moving would attract his attention. After a while, he turned around and disappeared.

We came upon another drove of mooncalves bellowing up a ravine, and then we passed over a place of sounds, sounds of beating machinery as if some huge hall of industry came near the surface there. And while these sounds were still about us we came to the edge of a great open space, perhaps two hundred yards in diameter, and perfectly level. Save for a few lichens that advanced from its margin this space was bare, and presented a powdery surface of a dusty yellow colour. We were afraid to strike out across this space, but as it presented less obstruction to our crawling than the scrub, we went down upon it and began very circumspectly to skirt its edge.

We came upon another herd of mooncalves bellowing up a ravine. Then we passed over a place where we heard machinery pounding, as if a huge industrial hall lay near the surface. While those sounds were still around us, we reached the edge of a great open space. It was perfectly level and perhaps two hundred yards across. A few lichens had spread into it from the edges, but otherwise it was bare, with a powdery, dusty yellow surface. We were afraid to venture across the open space. But it was easier to crawl on than the scrub, so we went down onto it and began to move very cautiously along its edge.

For a little while the noises from below ceased and everything, save for the faint stir of the growing vegetation, was very still. Then abruptly there began an uproar, louder, more vehement, and nearer than any we had so far heard. Of a certainty it came from below. Instinctively we crouched as flat as we could, ready for a prompt plunge into the thicket beside us. Each knock and throb seemed to vibrate through our bodies. Louder grew this throbbing and beating, and that irregular vibration increased until the whole moon world seemed to be jerking and pulsing.

For a little while, the noises from below stopped. Everything was very still, except for the faint rustling of the growing plants. Then suddenly an uproar began, louder, fiercer, and closer than any we had heard so far. It certainly came from below. Instinctively, we crouched as flat as we could, ready to dive into the thicket beside us. Each knock and throb seemed to vibrate through our bodies. The throbbing and beating grew louder. The irregular vibrations grew stronger until the whole moon world seemed to be jerking and pulsing.

“Cover,” whispered Cavor, and I turned towards the bushes.

“Cover,” whispered Cavor, and I turned toward the bushes.

At that instant came a thud like the thud of a gun, and then a thing happened—it still haunts me in my dreams. I had turned my head to look at Cavor’s face, and thrust out my hand in front of me as I did so. And my hand met nothing! I plunged suddenly into a bottomless hole!

At that moment, there was a thud like a gunshot. Then something happened that still haunts my dreams. I had turned to look at Cavor’s face and stretched out my hand in front of me. But my hand touched nothing! I suddenly plunged into a bottomless hole!

My chest hit something hard, and I found myself with my chin on the edge of an unfathomable abyss that had suddenly opened beneath me, my hand extended stiffly into the void. The whole of that flat circular area was no more than a gigantic lid, that was now sliding sideways from off the pit it had covered into a slot prepared for it.

My chest hit something hard. I found myself with my chin on the edge of a bottomless abyss that had suddenly opened beneath me. My hand stretched stiffly into the void. The entire flat, circular area was a gigantic lid. It was sliding sideways off the pit it had covered and into a slot made for it.

Had it not been for Cavor I think I should have remained rigid, hanging over this margin and staring into the enormous gulf below, until at last the edges of the slot scraped me off and hurled me into its depths. But Cavor had not received the shock that had paralysed me. He had been a little distance from the edge when the lid had first opened, and perceiving the peril that held me helpless, gripped my legs and pulled me backward. I came into a sitting position, crawled away from the edge for a space on all fours, then staggered up and ran after him across the thundering, quivering sheet of metal. It seemed to be swinging open with a steadily accelerated velocity, and the bushes in front of me shifted sideways as I ran.

If not for Cavor, I think I would have stayed frozen, hanging over the edge and staring into the enormous gulf below. At last, the edges of the slot would have scraped me off and hurled me into the depths. But Cavor had not suffered the shock that had paralyzed me. He had been a little way from the edge when the lid first opened. Seeing the danger that held me helpless, he grabbed my legs and pulled me back. I found myself sitting up, then crawled some distance from the edge on all fours. Then I staggered to my feet and ran after him across the thundering, trembling sheet of metal. The sheet seemed to be swinging open faster and faster, and the bushes ahead of me shifted sideways as I ran.

I was none too soon. Cavor’s back vanished amidst the bristling thicket, and as I scrambled up after him, the monstrous valve came into its position with a clang. For a long time we lay panting, not daring to approach the pit.

I was just in time. Cavor’s back disappeared into the bristling thicket. As I scrambled up after him, the monstrous valve clanged into place. We lay panting for a long time, afraid to go near the pit.

But at last very cautiously and bit by bit we crept into a position from which we could peer down. The bushes about us creaked and waved with the force of a breeze that was blowing down the shaft. We could see nothing at first except smooth vertical walls descending at last into an impenetrable black. And then very gradually we became aware of a number of very faint and little lights going to and fro.

But at last, very cautiously, we crept forward bit by bit until we could peer down. The bushes around us creaked and swayed in a breeze blowing down the shaft. At first, we could see only smooth, vertical walls descending into impenetrable darkness. Then, very gradually, we noticed a number of tiny, faint lights moving back and forth.

For a time that stupendous gulf of mystery held us so that we forgot even our sphere. In time, as we grew more accustomed to the darkness, we could make out very small, dim, elusive shapes moving about among those needle-point illuminations. We peered amazed and incredulous, understanding so little that we could find no words to say. We could distinguish nothing that would give us a clue to the meaning of the faint shapes we saw.

For a while, that immense, mysterious gulf held our attention so completely that we even forgot our sphere. As our eyes grew used to the darkness, we began to make out tiny, dim, hard-to-see shapes moving among the pinpoints of light. We stared in amazement and disbelief. We understood so little that we could find no words to speak. We could make out nothing that might explain the faint shapes we saw.

“What can it be?” I asked; “what can it be?”

“What could it be?” I asked. “What could it be?”

“The engineering!... They must live in these caverns during the night, and come out during the day.”

“The engineering!... They must live in these caves at night and come out during the day.”

“Cavor!” I said. “Can they be—that—it was something like—men?”

“Cavor!” I said. “Can they be, that, it was something like, men?”

“That was not a man.”

“That was not a man.”

“We dare risk nothing!”

“We can't risk anything!”

“We dare do nothing until we find the sphere!”

“We can't risk doing anything until we find the sphere!”

“We can do nothing until we find the sphere.”

“We can do nothing until we find the sphere.”

He assented with a groan and stirred himself to move. He stared about him for a space, sighed, and indicated a direction. We struck out through the jungle. For a time we crawled resolutely, then with diminishing vigour. Presently among great shapes of flabby purple there came a noise of trampling and cries about us. We lay close, and for a long time the sounds went to and fro and very near. But this time we saw nothing. I tried to whisper to Cavor that I could hardly go without food much longer, but my mouth had become too dry for whispering.

He agreed with a groan and started to move. He looked around for a while, sighed, and pointed in one direction. We set out through the jungle. For a while we crawled determinedly, then with less and less energy. Soon, among great, flabby purple shapes, we heard trampling and cries around us. We lay flat, and for a long time the sounds moved back and forth, sometimes very close. But this time we saw nothing. I tried to whisper to Cavor that I could hardly go much longer without food. But my mouth had become too dry to whisper.

“Cavor,” I said, “I must have food.”

“Cavor,” I said, “I need food.”

He turned a face full of dismay towards me. “It’s a case for holding out,” he said.

He turned to me, his face full of dismay. “We have to hold out,” he said.

“But I must,” I said, “and look at my lips!”

“But I must,” I said, “and look at my lips!”

“I’ve been thirsty some time.”

“I’ve been thirsty for a while.”

“If only some of that snow had remained!”

“If only some of that snow had been left!”

“It’s clean gone! We’re driving from arctic to tropical at the rate of a degree a minute....”

“It’s completely gone! We’re traveling from the Arctic to the tropics at a rate of one degree per minute....”

I gnawed my hand.

I chewed on my hand.

“The sphere!” he said. “There is nothing for it but the sphere.”

“The sphere!” he said. “We have no choice but to use the sphere.”

We roused ourselves to another spurt of crawling. My mind ran entirely on edible things, on the hissing profundity of summer drinks, more particularly I craved for beer. I was haunted by the memory of a sixteen gallon cask that had swaggered in my Lympne cellar. I thought of the adjacent larder, and especially of steak and kidney pie—tender steak and plenty of kidney, and rich, thick gravy between. Ever and again I was seized with fits of hungry yawning. We came to flat places overgrown with fleshy red things, monstrous coralline growths; as we pushed against them they snapped and broke. I noted the quality of the broken surfaces. The confounded stuff certainly looked of a biteable texture. Then it seemed to me that it smelt rather well.

We gathered our strength and crawled on again. I could think of nothing but food and the deep, fizzing pleasure of summer drinks. Above all, I longed for beer. I could not stop remembering a sixteen-gallon cask that had stood so proudly in my cellar at Lympne. I thought of the pantry beside it, and especially of steak and kidney pie. I imagined tender steak, plenty of kidney, and rich, thick gravy between them. Every now and then, hunger made me yawn repeatedly. We came to flat areas covered with fleshy red things, huge growths like coral. They snapped and broke as we pushed against them. I noticed what the broken surfaces looked like. The damned stuff certainly looked as though you could bite into it. Then I thought it smelled rather good.

I picked up a fragment and sniffed at it.

I picked up a piece and sniffed it.

“Cavor,” I said in a hoarse undertone.

“Cavor,” I said quietly, my voice hoarse.

He glanced at me with his face screwed up. “Don’t,” he said. I put down the fragment, and we crawled on through this tempting fleshiness for a space.

He glanced at me, his face scrunched up. “Don’t,” he said. I put down the fragment, and we crawled on through the tempting flesh for a while.

“Cavor,” I asked, “why not?”

“Cavor,” I asked, “why not?”

“Poison,” I heard him say, but he did not look round.

“Poison,” I heard him say, but he did not look back.

We crawled some way before I decided.

We crawled a little farther before I decided.

“I’ll chance it,” said I.

“I’ll take the risk,” I said.

He made a belated gesture to prevent me. I stuffed my mouth full. He crouched watching my face, his own twisted into the oddest expression. “It’s good,” I said.

He reached out too late to stop me. I stuffed my mouth full. He crouched and watched my face, his own twisted into the strangest expression. “It’s good,” I said.

“O Lord!” he cried.

“Oh Lord!” he cried.

He watched me munch, his face wrinkled between desire and disapproval, then suddenly succumbed to appetite and began to tear off huge mouthfuls. For a time we did nothing but eat.

He watched me eat, his face wrinkled with desire and disapproval. Then he suddenly gave in to his appetite and began tearing off huge mouthfuls. For a while, we did nothing but eat.

The stuff was not unlike a terrestrial mushroom, only it was much laxer in texture, and, as one swallowed it, it warmed the throat. At first we experienced a mere mechanical satisfaction in eating; then our blood began to run warmer, and we tingled at the lips and fingers, and then new and slightly irrelevant ideas came bubbling up in our minds.

The stuff was rather like an earthly mushroom, but much softer in texture. It warmed our throats as we swallowed it. At first, eating gave us only a physical sense of satisfaction. Then our blood began to run warmer, and our lips and fingers tingled. New and slightly unrelated ideas began bubbling up in our minds.

“It’s good,” said I. “Infernally good! What a home for our surplus population! Our poor surplus population,” and I broke off another large portion. It filled me with a curiously benevolent satisfaction that there was such good food in the moon. The depression of my hunger gave way to an irrational exhilaration. The dread and discomfort in which I had been living vanished entirely. I perceived the moon no longer as a planet from which I most earnestly desired the means of escape, but as a possible refuge from human destitution. I think I forgot the Selenites, the mooncalves, the lid, and the noises completely so soon as I had eaten that fungus.

“It’s good,” I said. “Incredibly good! What a home for our surplus population! Our poor surplus population,” and I broke off another large piece. Knowing there was such good food on the moon filled me with a strange sense of goodwill. The gloom of hunger gave way to an irrational excitement. All the dread and discomfort I had been living with vanished. I no longer saw the moon as a planet I desperately wanted to escape. Instead, I saw it as a possible refuge from human poverty. I think that as soon as I ate the fungus, I completely forgot the Selenites, the mooncalves, the lid, and the noises.

Cavor replied to my third repetition of my “surplus population” remark with similar words of approval. I felt that my head swam, but I put this down to the stimulating effect of food after a long fast. “Ess’lent discov’ry yours, Cavor,” said I. “Se’nd on’y to the ‘tato.”

When I repeated my “surplus population” remark for the third time, Cavor again expressed similar approval. My head felt as if it were spinning, but I blamed the stimulating effect of eating after a long fast. “Excellent discovery yours, Cavor,” I said. “Second only to the potato.”

“Whajer mean?” asked Cavor. “‘Scovery of the moon—se’nd on’y to the tato?”

“What do you mean?” asked Cavor. “Discovery of the moon, second only to the potato?”

I looked at him, shocked at his suddenly hoarse voice, and by the badness of his articulation. It occurred to me in a flash that he was intoxicated, possibly by the fungus. It also occurred to me that he erred in imagining that he had discovered the moon; he had not discovered it, he had only reached it. I tried to lay my hand on his arm and explain this to him, but the issue was too subtle for his brain. It was also unexpectedly difficult to express. After a momentary attempt to understand me—I remember wondering if the fungus had made my eyes as fishy as his—he set off upon some observations on his own account.

I looked at him, shocked by his suddenly hoarse voice and his slurred speech. It struck me that he was intoxicated, possibly by the fungus. I also realized he was wrong to think he had discovered the moon. He had not discovered it. He had only reached it. I tried to put my hand on his arm and explain this, but the distinction was too subtle for his brain. It was also unexpectedly difficult to put into words. He tried for a moment to understand me. I remember wondering if the fungus had made my eyes look as fishy as his. Then he began making observations of his own.

“We are,” he announced with a solemn hiccup, “the creashurs o’ what we eat and drink.”

“We are,” he announced with a solemn hiccup, “the creatures of what we eat and drink.”

He repeated this, and as I was now in one of my subtle moods, I determined to dispute it. Possibly I wandered a little from the point. But Cavor certainly did not attend at all properly. He stood up as well as he could, putting a hand on my head to steady himself, which was disrespectful, and stood staring about him, quite devoid now of any fear of the moon beings.

He repeated this, and since I was in one of my subtle moods, I decided to argue with him. Perhaps I wandered a little off the point. But Cavor certainly wasn't paying proper attention at all. He stood up as best he could, putting a hand on my head to steady himself. That was disrespectful. He stood looking around, no longer at all afraid of the moon beings.

I tried to point out that this was dangerous for some reason that was not perfectly clear to me, but the word “dangerous” had somehow got mixed with “indiscreet,” and came out rather more like “injurious” than either; and after an attempt to disentangle them, I resumed my argument, addressing myself principally to the unfamiliar but attentive coralline growths on either side. I felt that it was necessary to clear up this confusion between the moon and a potato at once—I wandered into a long parenthesis on the importance of precision of definition in argument. I did my best to ignore the fact that my bodily sensations were no longer agreeable.

I tried to explain that this was dangerous, though I wasn’t quite sure why. But “dangerous” somehow got mixed up with “indiscreet” and came out sounding more like “injurious” than either. After trying to untangle the words, I resumed my argument. I addressed it mainly to the unfamiliar but attentive coral-like growths on either side of me. I felt I had to clear up this confusion between the moon and a potato at once. I wandered into a long digression on the importance of precise definitions in an argument. I did my best to ignore the fact that I was no longer feeling comfortable in my body.

In some way that I have now forgotten, my mind was led back to projects of colonisation. “We must annex this moon,” I said. “There must be no shilly-shally. This is part of the White Man’s Burthen. Cavor—we are—hic—Satap—mean Satraps! Nempire Cæsar never dreamt. B’in all the newspapers. Cavorecia. Bedfordecia. Bedfordecia—hic—Limited. Mean—unlimited! Practically.”

Somehow, I can no longer remember how, my thoughts returned to plans for colonization. “We must annex this moon,” I said. “There must be no hesitation. This is part of the White Man’s Burthen. Cavor, we are, hic, Satap, I mean Satraps! An empire Caesar never dreamed of. Be in all the newspapers. Cavorecia. Bedfordecia. Bedfordecia, hic, Limited. I mean, unlimited! Practically.”

Certainly I was intoxicated.

I was certainly intoxicated.

I embarked upon an argument to show the infinite benefits our arrival would confer on the moon. I involved myself in a rather difficult proof that the arrival of Columbus was, on the whole, beneficial to America. I found I had forgotten the line of argument I had intended to pursue, and continued to repeat “sim’lar to C’lumbus,” to fill up time.

I began arguing that our arrival would bring the moon endless benefits. I got tangled up trying to prove that Columbus’s arrival had, on the whole, been good for America. I realized I had forgotten the argument I meant to make. So I kept repeating “similar to Columbus” to fill the time.

From that point my memory of the action of that abominable fungus becomes confused. I remember vaguely that we declared our intention of standing no nonsense from any confounded insects, that we decided it ill became men to hide shamefully upon a mere satellite, that we equipped ourselves with huge armfuls of the fungus—whether for missile purposes or not I do not know—and, heedless of the stabs of the bayonet scrub, we started forth into the sunshine.

From that point on, my memory of the effects of that awful fungus becomes confused. I vaguely remember declaring that we would take no nonsense from any damned insects. We decided that men should not hide shamefully on a mere satellite. We gathered huge armfuls of the fungus. I don't know whether we meant to throw it or not. Then, ignoring the stabs of the bayonet scrub, we set out into the sunshine.

Almost immediately we must have come upon the Selenites. There were six of them, and they were marching in single file over a rocky place, making the most remarkable piping and whining sounds. They all seemed to become aware of us at once, all instantly became silent and motionless, like animals, with their faces turned towards us.

Almost immediately, we must have come upon the Selenites. There were six of them, marching in single file across a rocky area. They made the most remarkable piping and whining sounds. They all seemed to notice us at once. They all fell instantly silent and still, like animals, with their faces turned toward us.

For a moment I was sobered.

For a moment, I became serious.

“Insects,” murmured Cavor, “insects! And they think I’m going to crawl about on my stomach—on my vertebrated stomach!

“Insects,” murmured Cavor. “Insects! And they think I’m going to crawl around on my stomach, my stomach with a backbone!

“Stomach,” he repeated slowly, as though he chewed the indignity.

“Stomach,” he repeated slowly, as if chewing over the insult.

Then suddenly, with a sort of fury, he made three vast strides and leapt towards them. He leapt badly; he made a series of somersaults in the air, whirled right over them, and vanished with an enormous splash amidst the cactus bladders. What the Selenites made of this amazing, and to my mind undignified irruption from another planet, I have no means of guessing. I seem to remember the sight of their backs as they ran in all directions, but I am not sure. All these last incidents before oblivion came are vague and faint in my mind. I know I made a step to follow Cavor, and tripped and fell headlong among the rocks. I was, I am certain, suddenly and vehemently ill. I seem to remember a violent struggle and being gripped by metallic clasps....

Then suddenly, in a kind of fury, he took three enormous strides and leapt toward them. But he leapt badly. He somersaulted through the air, spun right over them, and disappeared among the cactus bladders with an enormous splash. I have no way of guessing what the Selenites made of this astonishing arrival from another planet. To my mind, it was also undignified. I seem to remember seeing their backs as they ran in all directions, but I am not sure. All these last events before I lost consciousness are vague and faint in my mind. I know I took a step to follow Cavor, then tripped and fell headfirst among the rocks. I am certain I suddenly became violently ill. I seem to remember a violent struggle and being gripped by metal clasps....

My next clear recollection is that we were prisoners at we knew not what depths beneath the moon’s surface; we were in darkness amidst strange distracting noises; our bodies were covered with scratches and bruises, and our heads racked with pain.

My next clear memory is of being prisoners at an unknown depth beneath the moon’s surface. We were in darkness, surrounded by strange, disturbing noises. Our bodies were covered in scratches and bruises, and our heads throbbed with pain.