Chapter 15

The Giddy Bridge

15 min

Just for a moment that hostile pause endured. I suppose that both we and the Selenites did some very rapid thinking. My clearest impression was that there was nothing to put my back against, and that we were bound to be surrounded and killed. The overwhelming folly of our presence there loomed over me in black, enormous reproach. Why had I ever launched myself on this mad, inhuman expedition?

The hostile pause lasted only a moment. I suppose both we and the Selenites thought very quickly. What struck me most was that there was nothing to put my back against. We were sure to be surrounded and killed. The sheer folly of being there loomed over me like a vast, dark accusation. Why had I ever set out on this mad, inhuman expedition?

Cavor came to my side and laid his hand on my arm. His pale and terrified face was ghastly in the blue light.

Cavor came to my side and put his hand on my arm. His pale, terrified face looked ghastly in the blue light.

“We can’t do anything,” he said. “It’s a mistake. They don’t understand. We must go. As they want us to go.”

“We can’t do anything,” he said. “It’s a mistake. They don’t understand. We must go. They want us to go.”

I looked down at him, and then at the fresh Selenites who were coming to help their fellows. “If I had my hands free—”

I looked down at him, then at the other Selenites coming to help their companions. “If only my hands were free...”

“It’s no use,” he panted.

“No.”

“We’ll go.”

And he turned about and led the way in the direction that had been indicated for us.

And he turned around and led the way in the direction we had been shown.

I followed, trying to look as subdued as possible, and feeling at the chains about my wrists. My blood was boiling. I noted nothing more of that cavern, though it seemed to take a long time before we had marched across it, or if I noted anything I forgot it as I saw it. My thoughts were concentrated, I think, upon my chains and the Selenites, and particularly upon the helmeted ones with the goads. At first they marched parallel with us, and at a respectful distance, but presently they were overtaken by three others, and then they drew nearer, until they were within arms length again. I winced like a beaten horse as they came near to us. The shorter, thicker Selenite marched at first on our right flank, but presently came in front of us again.

I followed, trying to look as subdued as possible, and feeling the chains around my wrists. My blood was boiling. I noticed nothing else in the cavern, though we seemed to take a long time to march across it. Or, if I did notice anything, I forgot it as soon as I saw it. I think my thoughts were fixed on my chains and the Selenites, especially the helmeted ones carrying goads. At first they marched alongside us at a respectful distance. But soon three others caught up with them, and they moved closer, until they were within arm's reach again. I flinched like a beaten horse as they came near us. The shorter, thicker Selenite marched on our right at first, but soon moved in front of us again.

How well the picture of that grouping has bitten into my brain; the back of Cavor’s downcast head just in front of me, and the dejected droop of his shoulders, and our guide’s gaping visage, perpetually jerking about him, and the goad-bearers on either side, watchful, yet open-mouthed—a blue monochrome. And after all, I do remember one other thing besides the purely personal affair, which is, that a sort of gutter came presently across the floor of the cavern, and then ran along by the side of the path of rock we followed. And it was full of that same bright blue luminous stuff that flowed out of the great machine. I walked close beside it, and I can testify it radiated not a particle of heat. It was brightly shining, and yet it was neither warmer nor colder than anything else in the cavern.

How clearly that scene is burned into my brain. Just in front of me was the back of Cavor’s lowered head and the dejected droop of his shoulders. Our guide’s gaping face was constantly jerking about. On either side were the goad-bearers, watchful but open-mouthed. Everything was in shades of blue. And after all, I do remember one other thing besides the purely personal matter. Before long, a sort of gutter crossed the cavern floor. It then ran beside the rocky path we followed. It was full of the same bright blue luminous stuff that flowed out of the great machine. I walked close beside it, and I can say it gave off no heat at all. It shone brightly, yet it was neither warmer nor colder than anything else in the cavern.

Clang, clang, clang, we passed right under the thumping levers of another vast machine, and so came at last to a wide tunnel, in which we could even hear the pad, pad, of our shoeless feet, and which, save for the trickling thread of blue to the right of us, was quite unlit. The shadows made gigantic travesties of our shapes and those of the Selenites on the irregular wall and roof of the tunnel. Ever and again crystals in the walls of the tunnel scintillated like gems, ever and again the tunnel expanded into a stalactitic cavern, or gave off branches that vanished into darkness.

Clang, clang, clang, we passed right under the pounding levers of another enormous machine. At last we came to a wide tunnel, where we could even hear the pad, pad of our bare feet. The tunnel was completely dark except for a thin trickle of blue light to our right. Our shadows and those of the Selenites formed gigantic, distorted shapes on the tunnel’s uneven walls and ceiling. Now and then, crystals in the walls sparkled like gems. Here and there, the tunnel widened into a cavern filled with stalactites, or branches led off into darkness.

We seemed to be marching down that tunnel for a long time. “Trickle, trickle,” went the flowing light very softly, and our footfalls and their echoes made an irregular paddle, paddle. My mind settled down to the question of my chains. If I were to slip off one turn so, and then to twist it so ...

We seemed to be walking down that tunnel for a long time. “Trickle, trickle,” the flowing light whispered, and our footsteps and their echoes made an uneven paddle, paddle sound. My thoughts turned to my chains. If I could slip off one loop like this, and then twist it like this ...

If I tried to do it very gradually, would they see I was slipping my wrist out of the looser turn? If they did, what would they do?

If I did it very slowly, would they see me slipping my wrist out of the looser loop? If they did, what would they do?

“Bedford,” said Cavor, “it goes down. It keeps on going down.”

His remark roused me from my sullen pre-occupation.

His remark brought me out of my sullen thoughts.

“If they wanted to kill us,” he said, dropping back to come level with me, “there is no reason why they should not have done it.”

“If they wanted to kill us,” he said, slowing down to walk beside me, “nothing would have stopped them.”

“No,” I admitted, “that’s true.”

“They don’t understand us,” he said, “they think we are merely strange animals, some wild sort of mooncalf birth, perhaps. It will be only when they have observed us better that they will begin to think we have minds—”

“They don’t understand us,” he said. “They think we are just strange animals, perhaps some wild kind of mooncalf. Only when they have observed us more closely will they begin to think we have minds.”

“When you trace those geometrical problems,” said I.

“When you trace those geometry problems,” I said.

“It may be that.”

“That may be it.”

We tramped on for a space.

We trudged on for a while.

“You see,” said Cavor, “these may be Selenites of a lower class.”

“You see,” said Cavor, “these may be lower-class Selenites.”

“The infernal fools!” said I viciously, glancing at their exasperating faces.

“The damn fools!” I said viciously, glancing at their infuriating faces.

“If we endure what they do to us—”

“If we put up with what they do to us...”

“We’ve got to endure it,” said I.

“We have to endure it,” I said.

“There may be others less stupid. This is the mere outer fringe of their world. It must go down and down, cavern, passage, tunnel, down at last to the sea—hundreds of miles below.”

“There may be others who are less stupid. This is only the outer edge of their world. It must go deeper and deeper, through caverns, passages, and tunnels. At last it must reach the sea, hundreds of miles below.”

His words made me think of the mile or so of rock and tunnel that might be over our heads already. It was like a weight dropping on my shoulders. “Away from the sun and air,” I said. “Even a mine half a mile deep is stuffy.”

His words made me think about the mile or so of rock and tunnels that might already be above us. The thought felt like a weight dropping on my shoulders. “Away from the sun and air,” I said. “Even a mine half a mile deep is stuffy.”

“This is not, anyhow. It’s probable—Ventilation! The air would blow from the dark side of the moon to the sunlit, and all the carbonic acid would well out there and feed those plants. Up this tunnel, for example, there is quite a breeze. And what a world it must be. The earnest we have in that shaft, and those machines—”

“This is not, anyway. It’s likely. Ventilation! The air would blow from the dark side of the moon to the sunlit side. All the carbon dioxide would flow out there and feed those plants. There’s quite a breeze coming up this tunnel, for example. And what a world it must be. We’ve had a glimpse of it in that shaft and those machines...”

“And the goad,” I said. “Don’t forget the goad!”

He walked a little in front of me for a time.

He walked a little ahead of me for a while.

“Even that goad—” he said.

“Even that goad...” he said.

“Well?”

“I was angry at the time. But—it was perhaps necessary we should get on. They have different skins, and probably different nerves. They may not understand our objection—just as a being from Mars might not like our earthly habit of nudging.”

“I was angry at the time. But perhaps we needed to move on. They have different skin, and probably different nerves. They may not understand why we object, just as a being from Mars might dislike our earthly habit of nudging.”

“They’d better be careful how they nudge me.”

“And about that geometry. After all, their way is a way of understanding, too. They begin with the elements of life and not of thought. Food. Compulsion. Pain. They strike at fundamentals.”

“And about that geometry. After all, their way is another way of understanding. They start with the basic elements of life, not thought. Food. Compulsion. Pain. They get to the fundamentals.”

“There’s no doubt about that,” I said.

He went on to talk of the enormous and wonderful world into which we were being taken. I realised slowly from his tone, that even now he was not absolutely in despair at the prospect of going ever deeper into this inhuman planet-burrow. His mind ran on machines and invention, to the exclusion of a thousand dark things that beset me. It wasn’t that he intended to make any use of these things, he simply wanted to know them.

He went on talking about the enormous, wonderful world we were being taken into. From his tone, I slowly realized that even now he was not entirely in despair. He did not despair at the thought of going ever deeper into this inhuman burrow inside the planet. His mind was fixed on machines and inventions, shutting out the thousand dark thoughts that troubled me. He did not intend to use what he learned about them. He simply wanted to know.

“After all,” he said, “this is a tremendous occasion. It is the meeting of two worlds! What are we going to see? Think of what is below us here.”

“After all,” he said, “this is a huge moment. Two worlds are meeting! What are we going to see? Think about what’s below us here.”

“We shan’t see much if the light isn’t better,” I remarked.

“We won’t see much if the light doesn’t improve,” I said.

“This is only the outer crust. Down below— On this scale— There will be everything. Do you notice how different they seem one from another? The story we shall take back!”

“This is only the outer crust. Down below, on this scale, there will be everything. Do you notice how different they seem from one another? What a story we’ll take back!”

“Some rare sort of animal,” I said, “might comfort himself in that way while they were bringing him to the Zoo.... It doesn’t follow that we are going to be shown all these things.”

“Some rare kind of animal,” I said, “might comfort himself that way while they were taking him to the Zoo.... That doesn’t mean we’re going to be shown all these things.”

“When they find we have reasonable minds,” said Cavor, “they will want to learn about the earth. Even if they have no generous emotions, they will teach in order to learn.... And the things they must know! The unanticipated things!”

“When they realize we can reason,” said Cavor, “they will want to learn about Earth. Even if they have no generous feelings, they will teach us so they can learn from us.... And the things they must know! Things we never expected!”

He went on to speculate on the possibility of their knowing things he had never hoped to learn on earth, speculating in that way, with a raw wound from that goad already in his skin! Much that he said I forget, for my attention was drawn to the fact that the tunnel along which we had been marching was opening out wider and wider. We seemed, from the feeling of the air, to be going out into a huge space. But how big the space might really be we could not tell, because it was unlit. Our little stream of light ran in a dwindling thread and vanished far ahead. Presently the rocky walls had vanished altogether on either hand. There was nothing to be seen but the path in front of us and the trickling hurrying rivulet of blue phosphorescence. The figures of Cavor and the guiding Selenite marched before me, the sides of their legs and heads that were towards the rivulet were clear and bright blue, their darkened sides, now that the reflection of the tunnel wall no longer lit them, merged indistinguishably in the darkness beyond.

He went on to wonder whether they knew things he had never hoped to learn on earth. And he was wondering about this with a raw wound from that goad already in his skin! I forget much of what he said. My attention was drawn to the tunnel we were marching through, which was growing wider and wider. From the feel of the air, we seemed to be entering a huge space. But we could not tell how big it really was, because it was unlit. Our little stream of light ran on ahead, narrowing to a thread before vanishing in the distance. Soon the rocky walls had disappeared altogether on either side. All we could see was the path ahead and the trickling, hurrying rivulet of blue phosphorescence. Cavor and the guiding Selenite marched ahead of me. The sides of their legs and heads facing the rivulet were clear and bright blue. The tunnel walls no longer reflected light onto their other sides, which merged indistinguishably into the darkness beyond.

And soon I perceived that we were approaching a declivity of some sort, because the little blue stream dipped suddenly out of sight.

Soon I realized we were approaching some kind of slope because the little blue stream suddenly dipped out of sight.

In another moment, as it seemed, we had reached the edge. The shining stream gave one meander of hesitation and then rushed over. It fell to a depth at which the sound of its descent was absolutely lost to us. Far below was a bluish glow, a sort of blue mist—at an infinite distance below. And the darkness the stream dropped out of became utterly void and black, save that a thing like a plank projected from the edge of the cliff and stretched out and faded and vanished altogether. There was a warm air blowing up out of the gulf.

A moment later, or so it seemed, we had reached the edge. The shining stream curved once, as if hesitating, then rushed over. It fell so far that we could hear no sound of its descent. Far below was a bluish glow, a kind of blue mist, at an infinite distance beneath us. The darkness through which the stream fell became completely empty and black. Only something like a plank jutted out from the cliff’s edge. It stretched outward, faded, and disappeared altogether. Warm air blew up from the gulf.

For a moment I and Cavor stood as near the edge as we dared, peering into a blue-tinged profundity. And then our guide was pulling at my arm.

For a moment, Cavor and I stood as close to the edge as we dared, peering into the blue-tinged depths. Then our guide pulled at my arm.

Then he left me, and walked to the end of that plank and stepped upon it, looking back. Then when he perceived we watched him, he turned about and went on along it, walking as surely as though he was on firm earth. For a moment his form was distinct, then he became a blue blur, and then vanished into the obscurity. I became aware of some vague shape looming darkly out of the black.

Then he left me and walked to the end of the plank. He stepped onto it, looking back. When he saw that we were watching him, he turned around and continued along the plank, walking as steadily as if he were on solid ground. For a moment I could see him clearly. Then he became a blue blur and vanished into the darkness. I became aware of a vague shape looming darkly out of the blackness.

There was a pause. “Surely!—” said Cavor.

There was a pause. “Surely!” said Cavor.

One of the other Selenites walked a few paces out upon the plank, and turned and looked back at us unconcernedly. The others stood ready to follow after us. Our guide’s expectant figure reappeared. He was returning to see why we had not advanced.

One of the other Selenites walked a few steps onto the plank. He turned and looked back at us without concern. The others stood ready to follow us. Our guide appeared again, looking expectant. He had come back to see why we had not moved forward.

“What is that beyond there?” I asked.

“What is that over there?” I asked.

“I can’t see.”

“We can’t cross this at any price,” said I.

“We can’t cross this no matter what,” I said.

“I could not go three steps on it,” said Cavor, “even with my hands free.”

“I couldn't take three steps on it,” said Cavor, “even with my hands free.”

We looked at each other’s drawn faces in blank consternation.

We looked at each other's strained faces in stunned dismay.

“They can’t know what it is to be giddy!” said Cavor.

“They can’t know what it feels like to be dizzy!” said Cavor.

“It’s quite impossible for us to walk that plank.”

“We can't possibly walk on that plank.”

“I don’t believe they see as we do. I’ve been watching them. I wonder if they know this is simply blackness for us. How can we make them understand?”

“I don’t think they see the way we do. I’ve been watching them. I wonder if they know that all we can see is darkness. How can we make them understand?”

“Anyhow, we must make them understand.”

“Anyway, we have to make them understand.”

I think we said these things with a vague half hope the Selenites might somehow understand. I knew quite clearly that all that was needed was an explanation. Then as I saw their faces, I realised that an explanation was impossible. Just here it was that our resemblances were not going to bridge our differences. Well, I wasn’t going to walk the plank, anyhow. I slipped my wrist very quickly out of the coil of chain that was loose, and then began to twist my wrists in opposite directions. I was standing nearest to the bridge, and as I did this two of the Selenites laid hold of me, and pulled me gently towards it.

I think we said these things with a faint hope that the Selenites might somehow understand. I knew quite clearly that all we needed was an explanation. But when I saw their faces, I realized an explanation was impossible. Here, our similarities were not going to bridge our differences. Well, I wasn’t going to walk the plank, anyway. I quickly slipped my wrist out of the loose coil of chain. Then I began twisting my wrists in opposite directions. I was standing closest to the bridge. As I did this, two of the Selenites grabbed me and pulled me gently toward it.

I shook my head violently. “No go,” I said, “no use. You don’t understand.”

I shook my head violently. “It won’t work,” I said. “It’s no use. You don’t understand.”

Another Selenite added his compulsion. I was forced to step forward.

Another Selenite added his own pressure. I had to step forward.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Cavor; but I knew his ideas.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Cavor. But I knew his ideas.

“Look here!” I exclaimed to the Selenites. “Steady on! It’s all very well for you—”

“Look!” I exclaimed to the Selenites. “Wait a minute! It’s all very well for you...”

I sprang round upon my heel. I burst out into curses. For one of the armed Selenites had stabbed me behind with his goad.

I spun around on my heel and burst out cursing. One of the armed Selenites had stabbed me in the back with his goad.

I wrenched my wrists free from the little tentacles that held them. I turned on the goad-bearer. “Confound you!” I cried. “I’ve warned you of that. What on earth do you think I’m made of, to stick that into me? If you touch me again—”

I pulled my wrists free from the little tentacles holding them. I turned on the goad-bearer. “Damn you!” I cried. “I warned you about that. What on earth do you think I’m made of, that you can stick that into me? If you touch me again...”

By way of answer he pricked me forthwith.

In answer, he immediately pricked me.

I heard Cavor’s voice in alarm and entreaty. Even then I think he wanted to compromise with these creatures. “I say, Bedford,” he cried, “I know a way!” But the sting of that second stab seemed to set free some pent-up reserve of energy in my being. Instantly the link of the wrist-chain snapped, and with it snapped all considerations that had held us unresisting in the hands of these moon creatures. For that second, at least, I was mad with fear and anger. I took no thought of consequences. I hit straight out at the face of the thing with the goad. The chain was twisted round my fist.

I heard fear and pleading in Cavor’s voice. Even then, I think he wanted to compromise with these creatures. “Listen, Bedford,” he cried, “I know a way!” But the pain of that second stab seemed to release some stored-up energy in me. The link of the wrist chain snapped instantly. With it snapped all the reasons that had kept us from resisting the moon creatures. For that second, at least, I was mad with fear and anger. I gave no thought to the consequences. I struck straight at the face of the creature holding the goad. The chain was twisted around my fist.

There came another of these beastly surprises of which the moon world is full.

Then came another of the nasty surprises that the moon world is full of.

My mailed hand seemed to go clean through him. He smashed like—like some softish sort of sweet with liquid in it! He broke right in! He squelched and splashed. It was like hitting a damp toadstool. The flimsy body went spinning a dozen yards, and fell with a flabby impact. I was astonished. I was incredulous that any living thing could be so flimsy. For an instant I could have believed the whole thing a dream.

My armored hand seemed to go right through him. He smashed like, like some soft candy with liquid inside! He broke right in! He squelched and splashed. It was like hitting a damp mushroom. His flimsy body spun a dozen yards and landed with a soft thud. I was astonished. I couldn't believe any living thing could be so flimsy. For a moment, I could have believed the whole thing was a dream.

Then it had become real and imminent again. Neither Cavor nor the other Selenites seemed to have done anything from the time when I had turned about to the time when the dead Selenite hit the ground. Every one stood back from us two, every one alert. That arrest seemed to last at least a second after the Selenite was down. Every one must have been taking the thing in. I seem to remember myself standing with my arm half retracted, trying also to take it in. “What next?” clamoured my brain; “what next?” Then in a moment every one was moving!

Then it had become real and immediate again. Neither Cavor nor the other Selenites seemed to have moved. They had stood still from the moment I turned around until the dead Selenite hit the ground. Everyone stood back from the two of us, alert. They seemed to remain frozen for at least a second after the Selenite fell. Everyone must have been trying to take it in. I seem to remember standing with my arm half drawn back, trying to take it in too. “What next?” my brain demanded. “What next?” Then suddenly everyone was moving!

I perceived we must get our chains loose, and that before we could do this these Selenites had to be beaten off. I faced towards the group of the three goad-bearers. Instantly one threw his goad at me. It swished over my head, and I suppose went flying into the abyss behind.

I realized we had to get our chains loose. But first, we had to fight off the Selenites. I turned toward the three goad-bearers. One immediately threw his goad at me. It swished over my head and, I suppose, flew into the abyss behind me.

I leaped right at him with all my might as the goad flew over me. He turned to run as I jumped, and I bore him to the ground, came down right upon him, and slipped upon his smashed body and fell. He seemed to wriggle under my foot.

I leaped at him with all my strength as the goad flew over me. He turned to run as I jumped. I knocked him to the ground and landed right on him. Then I slipped on his smashed body and fell. He seemed to wriggle under my foot.

I came into a sitting position, and on every hand the blue backs of the Selenites were receding into the darkness. I bent a link by main force and untwisted the chain that had hampered me about the ankles, and sprang to my feet, with the chain in my hand. Another goad, flung javelin-wise, whistled by me, and I made a rush towards the darkness out of which it had come. Then I turned back towards Cavor, who was still standing in the light of the rivulet near the gulf convulsively busy with his wrists, and at the same time jabbering nonsense about his idea.

I sat up and saw the blue backs of the Selenites retreating into the darkness all around me. With all my strength, I bent a link and untwisted the chain that had bound my ankles. I sprang to my feet, holding the chain. Another goad, thrown like a javelin, whistled past me. I rushed toward the darkness it had come from. Then I turned back toward Cavor. He was still standing in the light of the rivulet near the gulf. He was frantically working at his wrists and babbling nonsense about his idea.

“Come on!” I cried.

“Come on!” I shouted.

“My hands!” he answered.

Then, realising that I dared not run back to him, because my ill-calculated steps might carry me over the edge, he came shuffling towards me, with his hands held out before him.

Then he realized I was afraid to run back to him because I might misjudge my steps and go over the edge. So he shuffled toward me, holding his hands out in front of him.

I gripped his chains at once to unfasten them.

I grabbed his chains at once to unfasten them.

“Where are they?” he panted.

“Run away. They’ll come back. They’re throwing things! Which way shall we go?”

“Run away. They’ll come back. They’re throwing things! Which way should we go?”

“By the light. To that tunnel. Eh?”

“By the light. To that tunnel. Right?”

“Yes,” said I, and his hands were free.

“Yes,” I said, and his hands were free.

I dropped on my knees and fell to work on his ankle bonds. Whack came something—I know not what—and splashed the livid streamlet into drops about us. Far away on our right a piping and whistling began.

I dropped to my knees and began working on the bonds around his ankles. Something struck with a whack. I don't know what it was. It splashed the discolored stream into drops around us. Far away to our right, a piping and whistling began.

I whipped the chain off his feet, and put it in his hand. “Hit with that!” I said, and without waiting for an answer, set off in big bounds along the path by which we had come. I had a nasty sort of feeling that these things could jump out of the darkness on to my back. I heard the impact of his leaps come following after me.

I pulled the chain off his feet and put it in his hand. “Hit with that!” I said. Without waiting for an answer, I set off in great leaps along the path we had come by. I had an awful feeling that these things might jump out of the darkness onto my back. I heard his leaps landing behind me as he followed.

We ran in vast strides. But that running, you must understand, was an altogether different thing from any running on earth. On earth one leaps and almost instantly hits the ground again, but on the moon, because of its weaker pull, one shot through the air for several seconds before one came to earth. In spite of our violent hurry this gave an effect of long pauses, pauses in which one might have counted seven or eight. “Step,” and one soared off! All sorts of questions ran through my mind: “Where are the Selenites? What will they do? Shall we ever get to that tunnel? Is Cavor far behind? Are they likely to cut him off?” Then whack, stride, and off again for another step.

We ran in huge strides. But you must understand that running on the moon was completely different from running on earth. On earth, you leap and hit the ground again almost at once. But the moon’s weaker pull sent you flying through the air for several seconds before you landed. Despite our desperate hurry, each stride seemed to include a long pause. You could have counted to seven or eight during each one. “Step,” and off you soared! All sorts of questions ran through my mind: “Where are the Selenites? What will they do? Will we ever reach that tunnel? Is Cavor far behind? Are they likely to cut him off?” Then whack, another stride, and off again for another step.

I saw a Selenite running in front of me, his legs going exactly as a man’s would go on earth, saw him glance over his shoulder, and heard him shriek as he ran aside out of my way into the darkness. He was, I think, our guide, but I am not sure. Then in another vast stride the walls of rock had come into view on either hand, and in two more strides I was in the tunnel, and tempering my pace to its low roof. I went on to a bend, then stopped and turned back, and plug, plug, plug, Cavor came into view, splashing into the stream of blue light at every stride, and grew larger and blundered into me. We stood clutching each other. For a moment, at least, we had shaken off our captors and were alone.

I saw a Selenite running ahead of me, his legs moving exactly as a man’s would on Earth. He glanced over his shoulder and shrieked as he ran out of my way and into the darkness. I think he was our guide, but I am not sure. Then, in another huge stride, the rock walls came into view on either side of me. Two more strides brought me into the tunnel, where I slowed my pace because of its low roof. I went on to a bend, then stopped and turned back. Plug, plug, plug, Cavor came into view, splashing into the stream of blue light with every stride. He grew larger, then stumbled into me. We stood clutching each other. For a moment, at least, we had escaped our captors and were alone.

We were both very much out of breath. We spoke in panting, broken sentences.

We were both very out of breath. We spoke in short, broken sentences, gasping for air.

“You’ve spoilt it all!” panted Cavor. “Nonsense,” I cried. “It was that or death!”

“You’ve ruined it all!” Cavor panted. “Nonsense,” I cried. “It was that or death!”

“What are we to do?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Hide.”

“How can we?”

“It’s dark enough.”

“But where?”

“Up one of these side caverns.”

“Up one of these side caves.”

“And then?”

“Think.”

“Right—come on.”

“Right, come on.”

We strode on, and presently came to a radiating dark cavern. Cavor was in front. He hesitated, and chose a black mouth that seemed to promise good hiding. He went towards it and turned.

We walked on and soon came to a dark cavern with passages radiating from it. Cavor was in front. He hesitated, then chose a black opening that seemed to offer a good hiding place. He went toward it and turned.

“It’s dark,” he said.

“Your legs and feet will light us. You’re wet with that luminous stuff.”

“Your legs and feet will give us light. They’re wet with that glowing stuff.”

“But—”

“But...”

A tumult of sounds, and in particular a sound like a clanging gong, advancing up the main tunnel, became audible. It was horribly suggestive of a tumultuous pursuit. We made a bolt for the unlit side cavern forthwith. As we ran along it our way was lit by the irradiation of Cavor’s legs. “It’s lucky,” I panted, “they took off our boots, or we should fill this place with clatter.” On we rushed, taking as small steps as we could to avoid striking the roof of the cavern. After a time we seemed to be gaining on the uproar. It became muffled, it dwindled, it died away.

We heard a commotion approaching up the main tunnel, especially a sound like a clanging gong. It sounded horribly like a chaotic pursuit. We immediately rushed into the dark side cavern. As we ran, the glow from Cavor’s legs lit our way. “It’s lucky,” I panted, “they took off our boots, or we would make a clatter in here.” We rushed on, taking the smallest steps we could to avoid hitting the cavern roof. After a while, we seemed to be getting ahead of the noise. It grew muffled, faded, and died away.

I stopped and looked back, and I heard the pad, pad of Cavor’s feet receding. Then he stopped also. “Bedford,” he whispered; “there’s a sort of light in front of us.”

I stopped and looked back. I heard the soft pad, pad of Cavor’s feet as he moved away. Then he stopped too. “Bedford,” he whispered, “there’s a kind of light in front of us.”

I looked, and at first could see nothing. Then I perceived his head and shoulders dimly outlined against a fainter darkness. I saw, also, that this mitigation of the darkness was not blue, as all the other light within the moon had been, but a pallid grey, a very vague, faint white, the daylight colour. Cavor noted this difference as soon, or sooner, than I did, and I think, too, that it filled him with much the same wild hope.

I looked, but at first I could see nothing. Then I saw his head and shoulders, dimly outlined against a lighter patch of darkness. I also saw that the faint light was not blue, like all the other light inside the moon. It was a pale grey, a very faint, hazy white, the color of daylight. Cavor noticed the difference as soon as I did, or sooner. I think it filled him with much the same wild hope as it did me.

“Bedford,” he whispered, and his voice trembled. “That light—it is possible—”

“Bedford,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “That light, it’s possible...”

He did not dare to say the thing he hoped. Then came a pause. Suddenly I knew by the sound of his feet that he was striding towards that pallor. I followed him with a beating heart.

He did not dare say what he hoped for. Then there was a pause. Suddenly, I heard his footsteps and knew he was striding toward that pale glow. I followed him, my heart pounding.