Lost on the Moon
by
Roy Rockwood
Part 3 out of 4
"Wait," cautioned Professor Roumann. "First we must see if we can
breathe on the moon, and whether the temperature will support life. I
must make some tests before we venture out of the projectile."
CHAPTER XIX
TORCHES OF LIFE
The natural inclination of the boys to rush out on the surface of the
moon to see what it was like was checked by the words of caution from
Professor Roumann.
"Do you think it would be dangerous to venture outside the projectile?"
asked Jack, as he looked from the window and noted the rugged, uneven
surface of the moon.
"Very much so," was the answer. "According to most astronomers, there
is absolutely no air on the moon, also no moisture, and the temperature
is either very high or around the freezing point. We must find out what
it is."
"How can we?" inquired Mark.
"I'll soon show you," went on the German. "Professor Henderson, will
you kindly assist me."
When it had been decided to come to the moon in quest for the field of
diamonds, certain changes had been made in the _Annihilator_ to fit it
for new conditions that might be met. One of these consisted of an
aperture in the two sides of the projectile permitting certain delicate
instruments to be thrust out, so that the conditions they indicated
could be read on dials or graduated scales from within.
"We will first make a test of the temperature," said Mr. Roumann, "as
that will be the easiest." Accordingly a thermometer was put outside,
and those in the air-craft anxiously watched the red column of spirits.
The temperature was marked as seventy-five inside the _Annihilator_,
but the thermometer had not been outside more than a second before
it began falling.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson, as he noted it. "The temperature is
going down. I'd rather have it too cold than too hot. We can stand a
minus fifty of cold better than two hundred and twelve of heat. We have
fur garments with us."
"It is still going down," remarked Jack, as he saw the red column drop
down past the thirty mark.
"Below freezing," added Mark.
The spirits fell in the tube until they touched twenty-eight degrees,
and there they remained.
"Twenty-eight degrees," remarked Professor Henderson. "That isn't so
bad. At least, we can stand that if we are warmly clad."
"Yes, but it will be colder to-night," said Jack. For they had landed
on the moon in bright sunlight.
"To-night?" questioned the German scientist, with a smile.
"Yes, it's always colder when the sun goes down," went on the lad.
"You have forgotten one thing," said Mr. Henderson, with a smile at his
young protege. "You must remember, Jack, that the nights and days here
are each fourteen days long--that is, fourteen of our days."
"How's that?" asked Jack.
"Why," broke in Mark, who was a trifle better student than was his
chum, "don't you remember that the moon rotates on its axis once a
month, or in about twenty-eight days, to be exact, and so half of that
time is day and half night, just as on our earth, when it revolves on
its axis in twenty-four hours, half the time is day and half the time
is night."
"Sure, I ought to have remembered," declared Jack.
"Mark is right," added Mr. Henderson. "And, as we have most fortunately
arrived on the moon at the beginning of the long day, we will have
fourteen days of sunshine, during which we may expect the temperature
to remain at about twenty-eight degrees. But now about the atmosphere."
"We will test that directly," went on the German. "It will take some
time longer, though."
Various instruments were brought forth and thrust out of the opening in
the side of the projectile, which opening was so arranged that it was
closed hermetically while the instruments were put forth. Then the
readings of the dials or scales were taken, and computations made. In
fact, some of what corresponded to the moon's atmosphere was secured in
a hollow steel cup and brought inside the _Annihilator_ for analysis.
"Well," remarked Professor Roumann, as he bent over a test tube, the
contents of which he had put through several processes, "I am afraid we
cannot breathe on the moon."
"Can't breathe on it?" gasped Jack. "Then we can't go out and walk
around it."
"I didn't say that," resumed the German, with a smile. "I said we
couldn't breathe the moon's atmosphere. In fact there is nothing there
that we would call atmosphere. There is absolutely no oxygen, and there
are a number of poisonous gases that would instantly cause death if
inhaled."
"Then how are we to get out and hunt for those diamonds, Professor?"
went on Jack. "Gee whiz! if I'd known that, I wouldn't have come. This
is tough luck!"
"Maybe the professor can suggest a way out of the difficulty, boys,"
spoke Mr. Henderson. "It certainly would be too bad if, after our
perilous trip, we couldn't get out of our cage and walk around the
moon."
"I think perhaps I can discover a way so that it will be safe to
venture forth," said Mr. Roumann. "But I must first conduct some
further experiments. In the meanwhile suppose you boys get out some
fur-lined garments, for, though it is only twenty-eight degrees, we
will need to be well clad after the time spent inside this warm
projectile."
"It does look as if he expected to get us out," remarked Jack, as he
and his chum went to where Andy Sudds was.
"Yes, you'll get a chance to pick up diamonds after all, Jack. That is,
if there are any here."
"Of course there are diamonds. You wait and see," and then, with the
help of the old hunter, they took from the store-room their fur
garments.
It was half an hour before the warm clothes were sorted out, and then
the boys went back to where the two professors were.
"Well," asked Jack cautiously, "can we go outside?"
"I think so," answered the German cheerfully. "But you must always be
careful to carry one of these with you," and he handed to each of the
boys a steel rod about two feet long, at the end of which was a small
iron box, with perforations in the sides and top.
"What is this?" asked Jack. "It looks like a magician's wand."
"And that is exactly what it is," said Mr. Henderson. "As there is no
atmosphere fit to breathe on the moon, we have been forced to make our
own, boys. You each hold what may be called torches of life. To venture
out without them would mean instant death by suffocation or poison."
"And will these save our lives?" asked Mark.
"Yes," said Mr. Roumann. "In the iron boxes on those rods are certain
chemicals, rich in oxygen and other elements, which, when brought in
contact with the gases on the moon, will dispel a cloud of air about
whoever carries them--air such as we find on our earth. So, boys, be
careful never to venture out without the torches of life. I had them
prepared in anticipation of some such emergency as this, and all that
was necessary was to put in the chemicals. This I have done, and now,
if you wish, you may go out and stroll about the moon."
CHAPTER XX
ON THE EDGE OF A CRATER
There was a little hesitation after Professor Roumann had spoken. Even
though he assured them all that it would be safe to venture out on the
surface of the moon, with its chilling temperature and its poisonous
"atmosphere" (if such it can be termed), there was an uncanny feeling
about stepping forth into the midst of the desolation that was on every
side.
For it was desolate--terribly so! Not a sound broke the stillness.
There was no life--no motion--as far as could be seen. Not a tree or
shrub relieved the rugged monotony of the landscape. It was like a dead
world.
"And to think that people may have once lived here," observed Jack, in
a low voice.
"Yes, and to think that there may be people on the other side of the
moon even now," added Mark. "We must take a look if it's possible."
"Well," remarked Mr. Henderson, after a while, "are we going out and
see what it's like or not."
"Of course, we are," said Jack. "Come on, Mark, I'm not afraid."
"Me either. Do we have to do anything to the torches to make them
operate, Professor Roumann?"
"Merely press this lever," and the scientist showed them where there
was one in the handle of the steel rod. "As soon as that is pressed, it
admits a liquid to the chemicals and the oxygen gas is formed, rising
all around you, like a protecting vapor. After that it is automatic."
"How long will the supply of chemical last?" inquired Jack.
"Each one is calculated to give out gas for nearly two weeks," was the
reply; "possibly for a little longer. But come, I want to see how they
work. Here is your life-torch, Professor Henderson, and there is one
for you, too, Andy, and Washington."
"'Scuse me!" exclaimed the colored man hastily, as he started back
toward the kitchen.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Jack. "Don't you want to go out, and
walk around the moon, and pick up diamonds?"
"Diamonds am all right," answered Washington, "but I jest done fo'got
dat I ain't fed my Shanghai rooster to-day, an' I 'spects he's mighty
hungry. You folks go on out an' pick up a few obde sparklers, an' when
I gits de Shanghai fed I'll prognosticate myse'f inter conjunction wif
yo' all."
"You mean you'll join us?" asked Mark.
"Dat's what I means, suah."
"Why, I do believe Washington's afraid!" cried Jack jokingly.
"Askeered! Who's afraid?" retorted the colored man boldly. "Didn't I
done tole yo' dat I got t' feed my rooster? Heah him crowin' now? Yo'
all go 'long, an' I'll meet yo' later," and with that Washington
disappeared quickly.
"Well, he'll soon pluck up courage and come out," declared Professor
Henderson. "Let him go now, and we'll go out and see what it is like on
the moon."
"I hope we find those diamonds," murmured Jack, and Mark smiled.
In order not to admit the poisonous gases into the projectile, it was
decided to leave the Annihilator and return to it by means of a double
door, forming a sort of air lock. It was similar to the water lock used
on the submarine. That is, the adventurers entered a chamber built in
between the two steel walls of their craft. The interior door was then
sealed shut automatically. Next the outer door was opened, and they
could step directly to the surface of the moon and into the deadly
atmosphere.
"Well, are we all ready?" asked Mr. Roumann, as he picked up one of the
chemical torches.
"I guess so," responded Andy Sudds, who had his gun with him. "I hope I
see some game. I haven't had a shot in a long while."
"You're not likely to up here," spoke Mr. Henderson. "Game is scarce on
the moon, unless it's some of that green cheese Washington talked
about."
They entered the air lock and fastened the door behind them. Then
Professor Roumann pressed on the lever that swung open the outer
portal.
"Hold your torches close to your head," he called. "The moon atmosphere
may be too strong for us at first until we create a mist of oxygen
about us."
Out upon the surface of the moon they stepped, probably the first earth
beings so to do, though they had evidence that the inhabitants of Mars
had preceded them.
For a moment they all gasped for breath, but only for a moment. Then
the gas began to flow from the life-torches, and they could breathe as
well as they had done while in the projectile, or while on the earth.
"Well, if this isn't great!" cried Jack, gazing about him.
"It certainly beats anything I ever saw," came from Mark.
"Wonderful, wonderful," murmured Professor Henderson. "We will be able
to gain much valuable scientific knowledge here, Professor Roumann. We
must at once begin our observations."
"I agree with you," spoke the German.
Andy Sudds said nothing. He was looking around for a sight of game,
with his rifle in readiness. But not a sign of life met his eager eyes.
Once they were outside the projectile it was even more desolate than it
had seemed when they looked from the observation windows. It was
absolutely still. Not a breath of wind fanned their cheeks, for where
there is no air to be heated and cooled there could be no wind which is
caused by the differences of temperature of the air, the cold rushing
in to fill the vacuum caused by the rising of the hot vapors. Clad in
their fur-lined garments, which effectually defied the cold, the
adventurers stepped out.
Over the rugged ground they went, gazing curiously about them. It was
like being in the wildest part of the Canadian Rocky Mountains of our
earth, and, in fact, the surface of the moon was not unlike the
mountainous and hilly sections of the earth. There were no long ranges
of rugged peaks, though, but rather scattered pinnacles and deep
hollows, great craters adjoining immense, towering steeples of rocks,
with comparatively level ground in between.
The life-torches worked to perfection. As our friends carried them,
there arose about their bodies a cloud of invisible vapor, which,
however, was as great a protection from the poisonous gases as a coat
of mail would have been.
"This is great!" exclaimed Jack. "It's much better than to have to put
on a diving-suit and carry a cylinder of oxygen or compressed air about
on our shoulders."
They strolled away from the projectile and gazed back at it. Nothing
moved--not a sound broke the stillness. There was only the blazing
sunlight, which, however, did not seem to warm the atmosphere much, for
it was very chilly. On every side were great rocks, rugged and broken,
with here and there immense fissures in the surface of the moon,
fissures that seemed miles and miles long.
"Well, here's where I look for diamonds," called Jack, as he stepped
boldly out, followed by Mark. "Let's see who'll find the first
sparkler."
"All right," agreed his chum, and they strolled away together, slightly
in advance of the two professors and Andy, who remained together, the
scientist discussing the phenomena on every side and the hunter looking
in vain for something to shoot. But he had come to a dead world.
Almost before they knew it Jack and Mark had gone on quite some
distance. Though they were not aware of it at that moment, it was much
easier to walk on the moon than it was on the earth, for they weighed
only one sixth as much, and the attraction of gravitation was so much
less.
But suddenly Jack remembered that curious fact, and, stooping, he
picked up a stone. He cast it from him, at the same time uttering a
yell.
"What's the matter?" called Mark.
"Look how far I fired that rock!" shouted Jack. "Talk about it being
easy! why, I believe I could throw a mile if I tried hard!"
"It goes six times as far as it would on the earth," spoke his chum,
"and we can also jump six times as far."
"Then let's try that!" proposed Jack. "There's a nice level place over
there. Come on, I'll wager that I can beat you."
"Done!" agreed Mark, and they hurried to the spot, their very walking
being much faster than usual.
"I'll go first," proposed Jack, "and you see if you can come up to me."
He poised himself on a little hummock of rock, balanced himself for a
moment, and then hurled himself through space.
Prepared as he was, in a measure, for something strange, he never
bargained for what happened. It was as if he had been fired from some
catapult of the ancient Romans. Through the air he hurtled, like some
great flying animal, covering fifty feet from a standing jump.
"Say, that's great!" yelled Mark. "Here I come, and I'll beat----"
He did not finish, for a cry of horror came from Jack.
"I'm going to fall into a crater--a bottomless pit! I'm on the edge of
it!" yelled the lad who had jumped.
And, with horror-stricken eyes, Mark saw his chum disappear from sight
beyond a pile of rugged rocks, toward which he had leaped. The last
glimpse Mark had was of the life-torch, which Jack held up in the air,
close to his head.
"Jack--in a crater!" gasped Mark, as he ran forward, holding his own
life-torch close to his mouth and nose.
CHAPTER XXI
WASHINGTON SEES A GHOST
Advancing by leaps and bounds, and getting over the ground in a manner
most surprising, Mark soon found himself on the edge of the great,
yawning crater, into which his chum Jack had started to slide. I say
started, for, fortunately, the lad had been saved from death but by a
narrow margin.
As Mark gazed down into the depths, which seemed fathomless, and which
were as black as night, he saw his friend clinging to a rocky
projection on the side of the extinct volcano. Jack had managed to
grasp a part of the rough surface as he slid down it after his reckless
jump. He looked up and saw Mark.
"Oh, Mark, can't you save me?" he gasped. "Call Professor Henderson!"
"I'll get you up, don't worry!" called Mark, as confidently as he
could. "Hold tight, Jack. What has become of your life-torch?"
"I have it here by me. I didn't drop it, and it's on a piece of the
rock near my head. Otherwise I couldn't breathe. Oh, this place is
fearfully deep. I guess it hasn't any bottom."
"Now, keep still, and don't think about that. Save your strength, hold
fast, and I'll get you up."
But, having said that much, Mark was not so sure how next to proceed.
It was going to be no easy task to haul up Jack, and that without ropes
or other apparatus. Another matter that added to the danger was the
necessity of keeping the life-torch close to one's face in order to
prevent death by the poisonous gases.
Mark's first impulse was to hasten back and call the two professors,
but he looked over the desolate landscape, and could not see them, and
he feared that if he went away Jack might slip and fall into the
unknown depths of the crater.
"I've got to get him out alone," decided Mark. "But how can I do it?"
He crawled cautiously nearer to the edge of the extinct volcano and
looked down. A few loose stones, dislodged by his weight, rattled down
the sides.
"Look out!" cried Jack quickly, "or you'll fall, too!"
"I'll be careful," answered Mark, and then he drew away out of danger,
with a queer feeling about his heart, which was beating furiously. Mark
had hoped to be able to make his way down the side of the crater to
where his chum was and help him up. But a look at the steep sides and
the uncertain footing afforded by the loose rocks of lava-like
formation showed that this could not be done.
"I've got to think of a different scheme," decided Mark, and, spurred
on by the necessity of acting quickly if he was to save Jack, he fairly
forced his brain to work. For he saw by the strained look on his chum's
face that Jack could not hold out much longer.
"I have it!" cried Mark at length. "My fur coat! I can cut it into
strips of hide and make a rope. Then I can lower it down to Jack and
haul him up."
He did not think, for the moment, of the cold he would feel when he
stripped off the fur garment, and when it did come to him in a flash he
never hesitated.
"After all, I've often been out without an overcoat on cold days," he
said to himself. "I guess I can stand it for a while, and when Jack is
up I can run back to the projectile and keep warm that way."
To think was to act, and Mark laid down his life-torch to take off the
big fur coat. The next instant he had toppled over, almost in a faint,
and, had he not fallen so that his head was near the small perforated
box on the end of the steel rod, whence came the life-giving gas, the
lad might have died.
He had forgotten, for the instant, the necessity of always keeping the
torch close to his face to prevent the poisonous gases of the moon from
overpowering him. Mark soon revived while lying on the ground, and,
rising, with his torch in his hand, he looked about him.
"I've got to have my two hands to work with," he mused, "and yet I've
got to hold this torch close to my face. Say, a fellow ought to have
three hands if he's going to visit the moon. What can I do?"
In an instant a plan came to him. He thrust the pointed end of the
steel rod in the crevice of some rocks, and it stood upright, so that
the perforated box of chemicals was on a level with his face.
"There," said Mark aloud, "I guess that will work. I can use both my
hands now." The plan was a good one. Next, taking off his coat, the lad
proceeded to cut it into strips, working rapidly. He called to Jack
occasionally, bidding him keep up his courage. "I'll soon have you
out," he said cheeringly.
In a few minutes Mark had a long, stout strip of hide, and, taking his
life-torch with him, he advanced once more to the edge of the crater.
He stuck the torch in between some rocks, as before, and looked down at
Jack.
"I--I can't hold on much longer," gasped the unfortunate lad. "Hurry,
Mark!"
"All right. I'm going to haul you up now. Can you hold on with one hand
long enough to slip the loop of this rope over your shoulders?"
"I guess so. But where did you get a rope?"
"I made it--cut up my fur coat."
"But you'll freeze!"
"Oh, I guess not. Here it comes, Jack. Get ready!"
Mark lowered the hide rope to his chum. The latter, who managed to get
one toe on a small, projecting rock, while he held on with his right
hand, used his left to adjust the loop over his shoulders and under his
arms.
"Are you all ready?" asked Mark.
"Yes, but can you pull me up?"
"Sure. I'm six times as strong as when on the earth. Hold steady now,
and keep the torch close to your face."
Mark had placed some pieces of his fur coat under the rope where it
passed over the edge of the mouth of the crater to prevent the jagged
rocks from cutting the strips of hide.
"Here you come!" he cried to Jack, and he began to haul, taking care to
keep his own head near his torch, which was stuck upright. Mark had
spoken truly when he said he possessed much more than his usual
strength. Any one who has tried to haul up a person with a rope from a
hole, and with no pulleys to adjust the strain of the cable, knows what
a task it is. But to Mark, on the moon, it was comparatively easy.
Hand over hand he pulled on the hide rope until, with a final heave, he
had Jack out of his perilous position. He had pulled him up from the
mouth of the crater, and the thick fur coat Jack wore had prevented the
sharp rocks from injuring him. In another moment he stood beside Mark,
a trifle weak and shaky from his experience, but otherwise unhurt.
"How did you happen to go down there?" asked Mark.
"Not from choice, I assure you," answered Jack. "I couldn't see the
crater when I jumped, as it was hidden by some rocks, and I was into it
before I knew it. But don't stand talking here. Put on my coat. I don't
need it. I'm warm."
"I will not. I'm not a bit cold. But we may as well get back to the
projectile, for they'll be worrying about us." Thereupon Mark broke
into a run, for, now that the exertion of hauling up Jack was over, he
began to feel cool, and the chilling atmosphere of the moon struck
through to his bones.
In a short time the two lads were back at the _Annihilator_, where
they found Professors Roumann and Henderson getting a bit anxious about
them. Their adventure was quickly related, and the boys were cautioned
to be more careful in the future.
"This moon is a curious, desolate place," said Mr. Henderson, "and you
can't behave on it as you would on the earth. We have discovered some
curious facts regarding it, and when we get back I am going to write a
book on them. But I think we have seen enough for the present, so we'll
stay in the rest of the day and plan for farther trips."
"Aren't we going to look for those diamonds?" asked Jack, who had
almost fully recovered from his recent experience.
"Oh, yes, we will look around for them," assented Mr. Roumann. "I
think, after a day or so, we will move our projectile to another part
of the moon. We want to see as much of it as possible."
They sat discussing various matters, and, while doing so, Washington
White peered into the living cabin.
"Has yo' got one ob dem torch-light processions t' spare?" he asked.
"Torch-light processions?" queried Mark. "What do you think this is, an
election, Wash?"
"I guess he means a life-torch," suggested Jack. "Are you going out,
Wash?"
"Yais, sah, I did think I'd take a stroll around. Maybe I kin find a
diamond fo' my tie."
Laughing, Jack provided the colored man with one of the torches,
instructing him how to use it, and presently Washington was seen
outside, walking gingerly around, as though he expected to go through
the crust of the moon any moment. Pretty soon, however, he got more
courage and tramped boldly along, peering about on the ground for all
the world, as Mark said, as if he was looking for chestnuts.
They paid no attention to the cook for some little time until, when the
boys and the two professors were in the midst of a discussion as to
where would be the best place to move the projectile next, they heard
him running along the corridor toward the cabin.
"Wash is in a hurry," observed Jack.
The next instant they sprang to their feet at the sight of the
frightened face of the colored man peering in on them. He was as near
white as a negro can ever be, which is a sort of chalk color, and his
eyes were wide open with fear.
"What's the matter?" asked Jack.
"A ghost! I done seen de ghost ob a dead man!" gasped the colored man.
"A ghost?" repeated Mark.
"Yais, sah, right out yeah! He's lyin' down in a hole--a dead man.
Golly! but I'se a scared coon, I is!" and Washington looked over his
shoulder as though he feared the "ghost" had followed him.
CHAPTER XXII
A BREAKDOWN
At first they were inclined to regard the announcement of Washington
lightly, but the too evident fright of the colored man showed that
there was some basis for his fear.
"Tell us just what you saw, and where it was," said Mr. Henderson. "Was
the man alive, Washington?"
"No, sah. How could a ghost be alive? Dey is all dead ones, ghosts am!"
"There are no such things as ghosts," said Mr. Henderson sternly.
"Den how could I see one?" demanded the cook triumphantly, as if there
was no further argument.
"Well, tell us about it," suggested Jack.
"It were jest dis way," began Washington earnestly, and with occasional
glances over his shoulder, "I were walkin' along, sort ob lookin' fer
dem sparklin' diamonds, an' I didn't see none, when all on a suddint I
looked down in a hole, and dere I seen HIM!" and he brought out the
word with a jerk.
"Saw what--who?" asked Mr. Roumann.
"De ghost--de dead man. He were lyin' all curled up, laik he were
asleep, an' when I seed him, I didn't stop t' call him t' dinner, yo'
can make up yo' minds t' dat all."
"Can you show us the place?" inquired Jack.
"Yais, sah, massa Jack, dat's what I kin. I'll point it out from dish
yeah winder, but I ain't g'wine dar ag'in; no, sah, 'scuse me!"
"Well, show us then," suggested Mark. "I wonder what it can be?" he
went on.
"Maybe one of the people who came from Mars after the diamonds, who was
forgotten and left here, and who died," said Jack.
"It's possible," murmured Mr. Henderson. "However, we'll go take a
look. Get on your fur coats, boys, and take the life-torches. Will you
come, Andy?"
"Sure. It's got to be more than a ghost to scare me," said the hunter.
They emerged from the projectile and walked in the direction Washington
had pointed, holding their gas torches near their heads and talking of
what they might see.
"This will be evidence in favor of my diamond theory," declared Jack.
"It shows that the Martians were here."
"Wait and see what it is," suggested his chum.
They walked along a short distance farther, and then Mark spoke.
"That ought to be the place over there," he said, pointing to a
depression between two tall pinnacles of black rock.
Jack sprang forward, and a moment later uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Here it is!" he called. "A dead man!"
"A dead man?" echoed Professor Henderson.
"A petrified man," added Jack, in awe-struck tones. "He's turned to
stone."
A few seconds later they were all grouped around the strange object--it
was a man no longer, but had once been one. It was a petrified human
being, a full-grown man, to judge by the size, and it was a solid image
in stone, even the garments with which he had been clothed being turned
to rock.
For a moment no one spoke, and they gazed in silence at what was an
evidence of former life on the moon. The man was huddled up, with the
knees drawn toward the stomach and the arms bent around the body, as if
the man had died in agony. The features were scarcely distinguishable.
"That man was never an inhabitant of Mars," spoke Professor Henderson,
in a low voice. "He is much too large, and he has none of the
characteristics of the Martians."
"I agree with you," came from Mr. Roumann.
"Then who is he?" asked Jack.
"I think," said the aged scientist, "that we are now gazing on all that
was once mortal of one of the inhabitants of the moon."
"An inhabitant of the moon?" gasped Mark.
"Yes; why not?" went on Mr. Henderson. "I believe the moon was once a
planet like our earth--perhaps even a part of it, and I think that it
was inhabited. In time it cooled so that life could no longer be
supported, or, at least, this side of the moon presents that
indication. The people were killed--frozen to death, and by reason of
the chemical action of the gases, or perhaps from the moon being
covered with water in which was a large percentage of lime, they were
turned to stone. That is what happened to this poor man."
"Such a thing is possible," admitted Professor Roumann gravely.
And, indeed, it is, as the writer can testify, for in the Metropolitan
Museum in New York there are the remains of an ancient South American
miner, whose body has been turned into solid copper. The corpse, of
which the features are partly distinguishable, was found four hundred
feet down in an old copper mine, where the dripping from hidden
springs, the waters of which were rich in copper sulphate, had
converted the man's body into a block of metal, retaining its natural
shape. The body is drawn up in agony, and there is every indication
that the man was killed by a cave-in of the mine. Some of his tools
were found near him.
They remained gazing at the weird sight of the petrified man for some
time.
"Then the moon was once inhabited?" asked Jack at length.
"I believe so--yes," answered Professor Henderson.
"Then where are the other people?" asked Mark. "There must be more than
one left. Why was this man off here alone?"
"We don't know," responded the German scientist. "Perhaps he was off
alone in the mountains when death overtook him, or perhaps all his
companions were buried under an upheaval of rock. We can only
theorize."
"It will be something else to put in the book I am to write," said Mr.
Henderson. "But, now that we have evidence of former life on the moon,
we must investigate further. We will make an attempt to go to the other
side of the country, and to that end I suggest that we set our
projectile in motion and travel a bit. There is little more to see
here."
This plan met with general approval, and, after some photographs had
been taken of the petrified man, and the professors had made notes, and
set down data regarding him, and had tried to guess how long he had
been dead, they went back to the _Annihilator_.
"Well, did yo' all see him?" asked Washington.
"We sure did," answered Jack. "You weren't mistaken that time."
They got ready to move the projectile, but decided to remain over night
where they were. "Over night" being the way they spoke of it, though,
as I have said, there was perpetual daylight for fourteen days at a
time on the moon.
Professors Roumann and Henderson made a few more observations for
scientific purposes. They found traces of some vegetation, but it was
of little value for food, even to the lower forms of animal life, they
decided. There was also a little moisture; noticed at certain hours of
the day. But, in the main, the place where they had landed was most
desolate.
"I hope we get to a better place soon," said Jack, just before they
sealed themselves up in the projectile to travel to a new spot.
As distance was comparatively small on the moon, for her diameter is
only a little over two thousand miles and the circumference only about
six thousand six hundred miles, the _Annihilator_ could not be speeded
up. If it went too fast, it would soon be off the moon and into space
again.
Accordingly the Cardite motor was geared to send the big craft along at
about forty miles an hour, and at times they went even slower than
that, when they were passing over some part of the surface which the
professors wished to photograph or observe closely.
They did not rise high into the air, but flew along at an elevation of
about two hundred feet, steering in and out to avoid the towering peaks
scattered here and there. Occasionally they found themselves over
immense craters that seemed to have no bottom.
For two days they moved here and there, finding no further signs of
life, neither petrified nor natural, though they saw many strange
sights, and some valuable pictures and scientific data was obtained.
It was on the third day, when they were approaching the side of the
moon which from time immemorial has been hidden from view of the
inhabitants of the earth, that Jack, who was with Mark in the engine
room, while the two professors were in the pilot-house, remarked to his
chum: "Mark, doesn't it strike you that the water pump and the air
apparatus aren't working just right?"
"They don't seem to be operating very smoothly," admitted Mark, after
an examination.
"That's what I thought. Let's call Mr. Henderson. The machinery may
need adjusting."
Jack started from the engine room to do this, and as he paused on the
threshold there was a sudden crash. Part of the air pump seemed to fly
off at a tangent, and a second later had smashed down on the Cardite
motor. This stopped in an instant, and the projectile began falling.
Fortunately it was but a short distance above the moon's surface, and
came down with a jar, which did not injure the travellers.
But there was sufficient damage done to the machinery, for with the
breaking of the air pump the water apparatus also went out of
commission, and together with the breakdown of the Cardite motor had
fairly stalled the _Annihilator_.
"What's the matter?" cried Professor Henderson, running in from the
pilot-house, for an automatic signal there had apprised him that
something was wrong.
"There's a bad break," said Jack ruefully.
"A bad break! I should say there was," remarked the scientist. "I think
we'll have to lay up for repairs." And he called Mr. Roumann.
CHAPTER XXIII
LOST ON THE MOON
Notwithstanding that they were somewhat accustomed to having accidents
happen, it was not with the most pleasant feelings in the world that
the moon travellers contemplated this one. It meant a delay, and a
delay was the one thing they did not want just now.
They desired to get to the other side of the moon while the long period
of sunshine gave them an opportunity for observation. True there was
some time yet ere the long night of fourteen days would settle down,
but they felt that they would need every hour of sunshine.
"Well, it's tough luck, but it can't be helped," said Mark.
"No, let's get right to work," suggested Jack.
They got out their tools and started to repair the two pumps. It was
found that the Cardite motor was not badly damaged, one of the negative
electrical plates merely having been smashed by a piece of the broken
connecting rod of the air pump. It was only a short time before the
motor was ready to run again.
But it could not be successfully operated without the air and water
pumps, and it was necessary to fix them next. New gaskets were needed,
while an extra valve and some sliding gears had to be replaced.
"It's an all day's job," remarked Professor Henderson.
But many hands made light work, and even Washington and Andy were
called upon to do their share. By dinner time the work was more than
half done, and Professor Roumann, announced that he and Mr. Henderson
would finish it if Jack and Mark would take a look at the exterior of
the projectile, to see if any repairs were needed to that.
The boys found that some of the exterior piping had become loosed at
the joints, because of the jar of the sudden descent, and, taking the
necessary tools outside, while they stuck their life-torches upright
near them, they labored away.
At four o'clock the two lads had their task completed, and at the same
time Professor Henderson announced that the air and water pumps were
now in good shape again.
"Then let's get under way at once," suggested Mr. Roumann. "We have
lost enough time as it is. Hurry inside, boys, and we'll start."
The two chums were glad enough to do so, and in a few minutes they were
again moving through the air toward the unknown portion of the moon.
Below the travellers, as they could see by looking down through a
plate-glass window in the floor of the projectile, were the same rugged
peaks, the same large and small craters that had marked the surface of
the moon from the time they had first had a glimpse of it. There was an
uninteresting monotony about it, unrelieved by any save the very
sparest vegetation.
"I am beginning to think more and more that we will find people on the
other side of this globe," remarked Mr. Roumann, as he made an
observation through a telescope.
"What strengthens your belief?" inquired Mr. Henderson.
"The fact that the vegetation is growing thicker. There are many more
plants below us now than there were before. This part of the moon is
better able to support life than the portion we have just come from."
This seemed to be so, but they were still some distance from the
opposite side of the moon.
"I don't see anything of those diamonds you talked so much about,
Jack," said Mark, with a smile, a little later. "I guess all the
Reonaris you get you can put in a hollow tooth."
"You wait," was all Jack replied.
The projectile was slowed up to permit the two professors to make some
notes regarding a particularly large and deep crater, and a few minutes
later when Mark, who was in the engine room, attempted to speed up the
Cordite motor it would not respond.
"Humph! I wonder what's wrong?" he asked of Jack.
"Better call Mr. Roumann, and not try to fix it yourself," suggested
his chum, when, in response to various movements of the lever, the
machine seemed to go slower and slower.
The German came in answer to the summons.
"Ha!" he exclaimed, "that motor is broken again. We shall have to stop
once more for repairs. I shall need to take it all apart, I fear. Get
me the negative plate remover, will you, Mark?"
The lad went to the tool chest for it. He opened the lid and fumbled
about inside.
"It doesn't seem to be here," he announced.
"What! the negative plate remover not there?" cried the professor.
"Why, it must be. It is one of the new tools we got, and it has not
been used for anything; has it?".
"Oh, by Jinks!" cried Jack suddenly.
"What's the matter?" asked his chum.
"That plate remover! Don't you remember you and I had it when we were
fixing the pipes outside the projectile, when we had the other
breakdown? We must have left it back there on the ground."
Jack and his chum gazed blankly at each other.
"I guess we did," admitted Mark dubiously.
"And it is the only one we have," said Mr. Roumann. "We need it very
much, too, for the projectile can't very well be moved without it."
"How can we get it?" asked Jack. "I'm sorry. It was my fault."
"It was as much mine as yours," asserted Mark. "I guess it's up to us
to go back after it. It isn't far. We can easily walk it."
There seemed to be nothing else to do, and, after some discussion, it
was decided to have the two boys walk back after the missing tool,
which was a very valuable one.
"Take fresh life-torches with you," advised Mr. Henderson, "and you had
better carry some food with you. It may be farther back than you think,
and you may get hungry."
"I guess it will be a good thing to take some lunch along," admitted
Jack. "And some water, too. We can't get a drink here unless we come to
a spring, and we haven't seen any since we arrived."
"I'll go with you, if you don't mind," said Andy. "I may see something
to shoot."
The three of them, each one carrying a freshly charged vapor-torch, a
basket of food and a bottle of water, started off, well wrapped in
their fur coats. Andy had a compass to enable them to make their way
back to where the tool was left, for, amid the towering peaks and the
valley-like depressions, very little of the level surface of the moon
could be seen at a time.
They walked on for several hours, every now and then hoping that they
had reached the place where the projectile had been halted, and where
they expected to find the tool. But so many places looked alike that
they were deceived a number of times.
At length, however, they reached the spot and found the instrument
where Jack had carelessly dropped it. They picked it up and turned to
go back, when Andy Sudds saw a large crater off to one side.
"Boys, I'm going to have a look down that," he said. "It may contain a
bear or wildcat, and I can get a shot."
"Guess there isn't much danger of a bear being on the moon," said Mark,
but the old hunter leaned as far over the edge of the crater as he
dared.
"No, there's nothing here," he announced, with almost a sigh, and he
straightened up. As he did so there came a tinkling sound, as if some
one had dropped a piece of money.
"What's that?" asked Jack.
"By heck! It's the compass!" cried Andy. "It slipped from my pocket
when I stooped over. Now it's gone!"
There was no question of that. They could hear the instrument tinkling
far down in the unfathomable depths, striking from side to side of the
crater as it went down and down.
"We'll never see that again," spoke Mark dubiously. "Can we get back to
the projectile without it?" asked Jack.
"Oh, I fancy I can pick my trail back," answered the hunter. "It isn't
going to be easy, for there are no landmarks to guide me, but I'll do
my best. I ought to have known better than to put a compass in that
pocket."
It was not with very light hearts that they started back, and for a
time they went cautiously. Then, as they seemed to get on familiar
ground, they increased their pace and covered several miles.
"Say," remarked. Jack, as he sat down on a big stone. "I don't know how
the rest of you feel, but I'm tired. We've come quite a distance since
we picked up that tool."
"Yes, farther than it took us to find it after we left the projectile,"
added Mark. "I wonder if we're going right?"
The two boys looked at Andy. He scratched his head in perplexity.
"I can't be sure, but it seems to me that we came past here," he said.
"I seem to remember that big rock."
"There are lots like it," observed Jack.
"Suppose we try over to the left," spoke Mark, after they had rested
for ten minutes.
They swerved in that direction, and, after keeping on that trail for
some time, and becoming more and more convinced that it was the wrong
one, they turned to the right. That did not bring them to familiar
ground, and there was no sight of the projectile.
"Let's go straight ahead," suggested Andy, after a puzzled pause. "I
think that will be best."
"Well, which way is straight ahead?" asked Mark.
"That's so, it is hard to tell," admitted the hunter. "I wish I hadn't
lost that compass."
They wandered about for an hour longer. They could seem to make no
progress, though they covered much ground. Suddenly Jack called out:
"Say, we've been going around in a circle!"
"In a circle?" asked Mark.
"Yes," went on his chum. "Here's the very rock I sat down on a while
ago. I remember it, for I scratched my initials on it."
Jack pointed out the letters. There was no disputing it. They had made
a complete circle. For a moment they maintained silence in the face of
this alarming fact. Then Mark exclaimed:
"I guess we're lost!"
"Lost on the moon!" added Jack, in an awestruck voice, and he gazed on
the chill and desolate scene all about them; the great pinnacles of
rocks, in fantastic form; the immense black caverns of craters on
either hand; the sickly green vegetation.
"Lost on the moon!" whispered Mark, and there was not even an echo of
his voice to keep them company. Only a chill, desolate silence!
CHAPTER XXIV
DESOLATE WANDERINGS
For a moment the three stood helplessly there and stared at each other.
They could scarcely comprehend their situation at first. Then, with a
glance at the cold and quiet scene all about them, a look up at the
sun, which was the only cheerful object in the whole landscape, Jack
observed: "Oh, I say, come on now, don't let's give up this way! We
have only taken a wrong turn, and I'll wager that the projectile will
be just around the corner. Come on," and he started off.
"Yes," said Mark, "that's the trouble. There are so many corners, and
we have taken so many wrong turns, that we're all confused. I think the
best thing to do will be to stay here a while and pull ourselves
together."
"That's right," spoke old Andy. "Many a time in the woods I've got all
confused-like, and then I'd sit down and think, and I'd get on the
right path in a few minutes after."
"The trouble here is," said Jack, "that there are no woods. If there
were we might know how to get out of them. But think of it! Lost on
the moon, in the midst of a whole lot of queer mountain peaks, and big
holes that would hold half a dozen cities of the United States at the
same time, and never know it! This is a fearful place to be lost in!"
"I'm not going to admit that we're lost," declared Mark stoutly.
"Hu! You're like the Indian," spoke Jack. "The Indian who got lost in
the woods. He insisted that it wasn't he who was lost, that it was his
wigwam that couldn't be found. He knew where he himself was all the
while. That's our case, I suppose. We're here, but the projectile is
lost."
"Ha! ha!" laughed Andy Sudds. "That's a pretty good joke!"
"But not being able to find the projectile is no joke," went on Mark,
who always took matters more seriously than did his chum. "What are we
going to do?" he added. "We can't stay here like this."
"Maybe we'll have to," declared Jack. "We certainly can't get off the
moon--at least, not until we reach the projectile, and I'd like to
discover those diamonds before we go back."
"Hu! Those diamonds!" exploded Mark. "I think this whole thing is a
wild-goose chase, anyhow! If it hadn't been for those diamonds we
wouldn't have come to the moon. I don't believe there are any diamonds
here, anyhow."
"Well, I can't prove it to you now, but I will before we get back,"
asserted Jack. "We'll be wearing diamonds, as the song says."
"Diamonds aren't going to keep us warm when we're freezing," went on
Mark, who seemed bound to look on the dark side, "and we can't eat 'em
when we're hungry. A lot of good they'll do us if we do find them!"
"Oh, cheer up!" suggested Jack cheerfully. "And, speaking of eating,
what's the matter with having some lunch? What did we bring it along
for if we're not going to eat? Let's begin."
His good spirits were contagious, not that Andy needed any special
cheering up, but Mark did. In a few minutes they were seated on some
rugged rocks, and, with their life-torches stuck in cracks, so that the
perforated metal boxes of chemicals would be on a level with their
faces, they opened the baskets they had been fore-sighted enough to
bring with them.
"Why, I feel better already," asserted Jack, as he munched some
sandwiches which Washington White had made. "As soon as we've finished
we'll have another hunt for the projectile, and I'll wager that we'll
find it."
"I wouldn't finish if I were you," suggested Andy, who was eating
sparingly.
"Finish what?" asked Jack.
"All your lunch. You see," the old hunter went on, "we may find the
projectile, and, again, we may not. I'm inclined to think we're not so
very far from it, but we may be some time locating it in among all
these peaks and craters. So it will be the best plan to save some of
our lunch and drinking water until--well, until we're hungry again,"
and he carefully put back into his basket the remains of the food.
"You don't mean to say you think we'll be all day finding the
Annihilator, do you?"
Jack paused, with a sandwich half way to his mouth as he asked this
question.
"Well, it's best to be on the safe side," spoke Andy guardedly. "We may
find it, and, again, we may not. Save your powder against the time of
need, I say--by powder meaning victuals and drink. We can't drop in a
restaurant up here, and I don't see much game to shoot, and I should
hate to eat such fodder as this," and he poked with his foot some
sickly green vines, growing on the ground.
The boys' faces, which had become more cheerful, assumed a serious
look. Jack stopped eating at once and placed back in the basket his
remaining sandwiches. He also corked up the bottle of water, which was
kept from freezing by means of a fur pouch in which it was carried.
"If there's a possibility of being lost some time," spoke Mark, "we'd
better figure out just how long our food will last," and he examined
the contents of his basket.
Fortunately Washington White, with a knowledge of the appetites of the
chums, had filled the baskets with lavish hands. There was, they found,
food enough to last them three days, if they ate sparingly, and there
was enough water for half that time, providing they only took small
sips when thirsty. But they had noticed, in one or two places, little
pools of liquid, which they had not tasted, but which might prove to be
drinking water. Certainly they would need more if they were destined to
remain away from the projectile for very long.
"Well, then," observed Mark, when the food calculation was over, "it
appears that we can remain lost for about three days, at the most."
"Oh, but we'll be back home--I mean in the projectile--long before
that," declared Jack.
"I wish I was sure of that," murmured Andy with a dubious shake of his
head.
"Well, let's move on again," suggested Jack. "We feel better now, and
maybe we'll have better luck."
They started off, tramping over the rugged surface of the moon, while
the sun shone with tepid heat down on them. They had to go this way and
that to avoid the immense fissures in the ground or the yawning
craters, which loomed deep, and in awful silence, in their path.
Sometimes they climbed small mountains or crawled in and out of small
craters, slipping and stumbling.
They were not cold, for their fur garments kept them comfortably warm,
and there was no wind to make the freezing temperature search through
the crevices of their clothing. But it was the desolate silence, the
utter absence of any form of life save the pale green vegetation that
got on their nerves. It was like being in a dead world--on a planet
that seemed about to dissolve into space.
They began their further search for the projectile with hope in their
hearts, but this gradually gave way to despair as they wandered on over
the desolate surface, and saw nothing but the same rugged peaks, the
same yawning caverns and the innumerable craters, large and small.
On they wandered, looking on all sides for the missing projectile, but
they had no glimpse of it. Even climbing to one of the high peaks,
whence they had a view of the surrounding country, afforded them no
trace of the _Annihilator_, They were utterly lost.
Old Andy, who, by reason of his experience as a trapper and hunter, had
taken the lead, came to a halt. He looked around helplessly. He did not
know what to do.
"Well, boys," he remarked at length, "I don't like to say it, but I
can't seem to get anywhere. I give up."
"Give up?" murmured Jack, in blank dismay.
"Yes, for the time being," said the old man. "I'm all played out. I
guess we all are. We must have a rest. Here's a sort of cave. Let's
crawl in and have a sleep. Then maybe we can do something to-morrow--
no, not to-morrow, for they don't have that on the moon, where the day
is fourteen days long--but after we sleep we may be able to find our
way back. Anyhow, I've got to get some sleep," and without another word
the old hunter went into the cave, and, fixing his life-torch near his
head, where the fumes from it would dissipate the poisonous gases of
the moon, he closed his eyes, and was soon in slumber.
"I--I guess we'd better do the same," said Jack, and Mark nodded. They
were both sick at heart.
CHAPTER XXV
THE PETRIFIED CITY
For a time, after they had entered the cave, which was in the side of a
rugged mountain, the boys talked in low tones of their perilous
situation. For that it was perilous they both knew. Had they been on
the earth, lost in some desolate part of it, away from civilization,
their plight, would have been bad enough with what little food they
possessed.
But on the far-off moon--the dead moon, which contained no living
creatures save themselves, as far as they could tell--with no form of
animal life that might serve to keep them from starving, with only the
scantiest of vegetation, their situation was most deplorable.
"And then there's another thing," said Mark, as if he was cataloguing a
list of their troubles.
"What is it?" asked Jack. "I guess we have all the troubles that belong
to us, and more, too."
"Well, what are we going to do when the life-torches give out, and we
can't breathe any more?" asked Mark dubiously.
"Well, I guess it'll be all up with us then, if we don't starve to
death in the meanwhile," answered Jack. "But I'm afraid we will get out
of food before the torches are exhausted. They were freshly filled
before we started out after that tool, and they'll last for two weeks.
So we don't have to worry about that.
"By Jinks! this is all my fault, anyhow, it seems. If I hadn't seen
that item in the Martian paper about the diamonds, we never would have
come here, and if I hadn't left that tool on the ground outside of the
projectile we wouldn't have had to come back after it, and we wouldn't
have become lost. So I guess it's up to me, as the boys say."
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Mark, who, as soon as he heard his chum
blaming his own actions, was ready to shoulder part of the
responsibility himself. "We all wanted to come to the moon," he went
on, "and, as for leaving the tool and forgetting it, I'm as much at
fault as you are. Let's go to sleep, and maybe we'll feel better when
we wake up."
It was a new role for Mark--to be cheerful in the face of difficulties
--and Jack appreciated it. They stretched out on the hard, rocky floor
of the cavern, taking care to fix their life-torches so that the fumes
would dispel the poisonous gases. Then the two lads joined Andy in
slumberland.
Meanwhile, as may be imagined, those aboard the projectile were very
anxious about the fate of the two boys and the hunter. They could not
understand what delayed them, and, though they guessed the real cause,
after several hours had passed, there was nothing the two scientists
could do.
They could not move the projectile until it had been repaired, and this
could not be done, without the tool--at least, they did not believe so
then. Nor did Mr. Henderson and the German think it would be safe to
start out in search of the wanderers.
"For," said Mr. Henderson, "if we went we would easily get lost amid
these peaks ourselves, and they are so much alike and in such numbers
that there is no distinguishing feature about them. We had better stay
here in charge of the _Annihilator_ until the boys and Andy come back.
They can't be away much longer now."
So worn out and exhausted were the boys and the hunter that they slept
for several hours in the cave, and the rest did them good. They awoke
in better spirits, and, after a frugal meal and a sip of the fast-
dwindling water, they started off once more to locate the projectile.
"I'm a regular amateur hunter to go and lose my compass," complained
old Andy. "I ought to have it fastened to me, like a baby does the
rattle-box. I ought to kick myself," and he accepted all the blame for
their misadventure. But the boys would not suffer him to thus accuse
himself, and they insisted that they would shortly be with the two
professors and Washington in the _Annihilator_ once more.
"Well, it can't come any too soon," said Jack, "for I am beginning to
feel the need of a square meal and a big drink of water."
"So am I," said Mark, "but let's not think of it."
All that day they wandered on, crossing the rugged mountains, climbing
towering peaks, and descending into deep valleys. At times they skirted
the lips of craters, to look shudderingly into the depths of which made
them dizzy, for the bottoms were lost to sight in the black gloom that
enshrouded the yawning holes.
Their food was getting less and less, and what there was of it was most
unpalatable, for the bread was stale and dry, though the meat kept
perfectly in that freezing temperature. How they longed for a hot cup
of coffee, such as Washington used to make! and how they would have
even exchanged their chance of filling their pockets with the moon
diamonds for a good meal, such as was so often served in the
projectile!
On and on they went. Once, as they were crossing the lip of a great
crater, Mark became dizzy, and would have fallen had not Jack caught
him. Mark had forgotten, for the moment, and had lowered his life-
torch, so that his mouth and nose were not enclosed in the film of
vapor that emanated from the perforated box.
"You must be careful," Andy warned them.
"What's the use?" asked Mark despondently. "I don't believe we'll ever
find the projectile."
"Of course we will!" exclaimed Jack. "I know we can't be far from it,
only we can't see it because of the mountains. If we only had some way
of letting them know where we are, they could signal to us."
"By gum!" suddenly exclaimed Andy.
"What's the matter?" asked Jack, for the old hunter was capering about
like a boy.
"Matter? Why, the matter is that I'm a double-barrelled dunce," was the
answer. "Look here; do you see that?" and he held up his rifle.
"Sure," replied Jack, wondering if their sufferings and worry had made
the old hunter simple-minded.
"What is it?" asked Andy, shaking it in the air.
"Your rifle," answered Mark, looking at Jack in surprise.
"Of course," answered the hunter, "and a rifle is made to be fired off,
and here I've been carrying mine for nearly three days now, and I
haven't shot it once. You wanted a signal to make the folks in the
projectile hear us. Well, here it is I I guess they can hear this, and
when they do they can come and get us, for we don't seem able to reach
them. I'll just fire some signal shots."
"That's the stuff!" cried Jack, and Andy proceeded to discharge his
rifle.
The report the gun made in that quiet place was tremendous, and the
effect was curious, for, there being no air in the ordinary acceptance
of the word, there was no echo. It was as if one had hit two shingles
together. Merely a loud, sharp sound, and then an utter silence, the
vibrations being swallowed up instantly.
"Do you think they can hear that?" asked Andy.
"It sounds loud enough," answered Jack. "Shoot some more," which the
old hunter did. They wandered on still farther, firing at intervals all
that day, but there came no answering report or calls to direct them to
the projectile. They climbed once more to the tops of towering peaks,
but there they found their range of vision limited by peaks still
higher, while there were great valleys, in one of which, whether near
or far they could not tell, they knew, the _Annihilator_ was hidden.
They had almost lost track of time now, and they did not know how far
they had wandered. They had sought out lonely caves to sleep in when
they were so weary they could go no farther, and they had sat about on
bleak rocks shivering, and had eaten their scanty meals--shivering
because in spite of their fur garments they were cold, as they did not
eat enough to keep their blood properly circulating. They could not
when they did not have the food to eat!
Andy used up all but a few of his cartridges in firing signals, but to
no purpose. Their water was all but gone, and of their food only enough
remained for a day longer, though their life-torches still gave forth
plenty of vapor.
"Well, what's to be done?" asked Jack, as they sat about, looking
helplessly at one another.
"Might as well give up," suggested Mark bitterly.
"Give up? Not a bit of it!" cried Andy, as cheerfully as he could.
"Let's keep on. We'll find the projectile sooner or later."
So they kept on. It was while making their way between two great
mountain peaks that towered above their heads on either side, thousands
of feet up, making a sort of natural gateway, that Jack, who was in the
lead, cried out in astonishment at the sight that met his gaze when he
had passed the pinnacles.
"Look!" he shouted, pointing forward.
What he indicated was a great crater--larger and deeper than any they
had yet met with. It seemed a mile across, and, if gloom and darkness
were any indications, it was a hundred miles deep.
But it was not the size of the great hole in the ground, not its
fearful gloom, that attracted their attention. What did was a great
natural or artificial bridge of stone that was thrown across the middle
of it from edge to edge. A bridge of stone that spanned the abyss; a
roadway, fifty feet wide, which reached into some unknown land,
connecting it with the desolate country in which our friends had been
wandering.
"A bridge of stone across the cavern," said Jack, "but see. Here is a
house of stone. This was the guard-house, I'll wager--the guardhouse at
the entrance to some city, and that bridge is the means by which the
inhabitants entered and left. Maybe we are at the edge of the inhabited
part of the moon!"
His words thrilled them. They pressed forward to the beginning of the
bridge across the crater. They looked into the stone hut. Clearly it
had been made by hands, for it was composed of blocks of stone, neatly
fitted together. Jack's theory seemed confirmed.
Mark peered into the house, and uttered a cry of alarm.
"There's a petrified man in there!" he gasped.
Jack and Andy looked in at the open window. They saw, sitting at a
table, which was also of rock, a man, evidently a soldier, or rather he
had been, for he was nothing but stone now, like the hut in which he
dwelt.
The wanderers looked at each other with fear on their faces. What
dreadful mystery were they about to penetrate? "Let's cross the
bridge," suggested Jack, in a low voice. "Maybe this marks the end of
desolation. Perhaps we may find life and food across the crater."
"But--but the petrified man!" gasped Mark.
"What of it? He won't hurt us. Maybe there are live men, who will take
care of us, beyond there," and Jack pointed across the bridge of stone.
There was nothing to keep them where they were--in the land of
desolation. They could not live much longer there, with no food and
water. To pass on over the crater seemed the only thing to do.
"Come ahead," called Jack boldly. They followed him. They kept in the
middle of the road, for to approach the edge, where there was a sheer
descent of so many feet that it made them dizzy to think of it, filled
them with terror. On they hurried until, in a short time, they had
crossed the great chasm.
The road over the crater came to an end between two peaks, similar to
those at the beginning. Jack was the first to pass them, and as he
emerged he once more uttered a cry--a cry of fear and wonder.
And well he might, for in a valley below the wanderers there was a
city. A great city, with wonderful buildings, with wide streets well
laid out--a city in which figures of many men and women could be seen--
little children too! A fair city, teeming with life, it seemed!
But then, as they looked again, struck by the curious quiet that
prevailed, they knew that they were gazing down on a city of the dead--
a city where the inhabitants had been turned to stone, even as had the
soldier on guard in his lonely hut.
They had come upon a petrified city of the moon!
CHAPTER XXVI
SEEKING FOOD
"Well, if this isn't the limit!" burst out Jack, when he had stood and
contemplated the silent city for several moments, which also his
companions did. "After all our wanderings and troubles, when we do find
a place, it isn't any good to us. I don't suppose there is a square
meal in the whole town! Isn't it wonderful, though--every person turned
to stone!"
"Wonderful!" gasped old Andy. "I never saw anything like it in all my
life! What do you reckon did it, boys?"
"The same thing that turned the man in the hut, and the one Washington
thought was a ghost, into stone," answered Mark. "There was a rain of
some lime-water, or a liquid charged with similar chemicals, and the
people were turned to rocks."
It was uncanny, and for a moment they hesitated on the edge of the
city, which lay in a sort of cup-like valley, surrounded on all sides
by towering peaks of the moon mountains. The bridge over which they had
come afforded the only entrance to the city, and in times of war
(provided the inhabitants of the moon ever fought) the passage must
have been well guarded.
It was evidently a time of peace when the calamity that turned the
inhabitants to stone came upon them, for only one soldier was in the
guard hut--doubtless being there merely to give an alarm, or possibly
to keep out undesirable strangers.
"Well, are we going to stand here all day?" asked Jack of his
companions, when they had contemplated the silent city for five minutes
longer.
"I say, let's go down there and see what we can find. I'm getting
hungry."
"There'll be nothing there to eat," declared Mark. "If there ever was
anything, it's now stone. Think of a loaf of bread like a brick, and a
chunk of meat like some great rock!"
"Let's go down, anyhow," added Andy, and they advanced.
As they got down into the streets, the weird effect came over them more
strongly. It was as if they had suddenly entered some large town, and
at their advent every living person had been turned into an image.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" murmured Jack.
"I've read of the uncovering of the ancient buried cities, and how they
found women in the kitchen baking bread, and men at their work, but
this goes ahead of that, for here the people are not dust--they are
statues!"
"It certainly is wonderful," agreed Mark. "I only wish the two
professors could see this. They could write several books about it.
This proves that the moon was once inhabited, though it is dead now.
The projectile should have come to this part of the moon."
"Maybe they'll bring it here, when we get back and tell them what we've
seen," suggested Jack.
"Yes, if we ever do get back," went on his chum, with a return of his
gloomy thoughts.
The strangeness of the scenes all about them can scarcely be imagined.
Think of looking at a city street teeming with life, men and women
hurrying here and there, dogs running about, children at their play,
and then suddenly seeing that same street become as dead as some
mountain, with the people represented as stones on that same mountain,
and you can get some idea of what our friends looked upon.
Here was a woman, looking in a store window, probably at some bargains,
though even the very window and store itself was now stone, and the
woman was like a block of marble. Near her was a little child, also
turned to stone, and there were a number of men, standing together on a
street corner as if they had been talking politics when the calamity
overtook them.
There were shops where the workers had been turned to stone at their
benches, there were houses at the windows of which stone faces peered
out, and there were parks on the benches of which sat men, women and
children, stiff and solid--creatures of stone! Truly it was a city of
the dead!
The wanderers walked about, seeing new wonders on every side. They
spoke in whispers at times, as though at the sound of a loud voice the
silent ones would awaken and resume the occupations or pleasures they
had left off centuries ago.
Another strange part of it was that the people were not so very
different from those of the earth. They were exactly the same in size
and feature, but their clothing, as nearly as could be told from the
stone garments, seemed of a bygone fashion, such as was in vogue
hundreds of years ago. There were no horses observed, though there were
stone dogs and cats, and the shops given over to the sale of food
contained in the windows what seemed to be chunks of meat, loaves of
bread, and pies and cakes, though now they were only pieces of rock.
"It's just as if one of our cities and the people in it should be
suddenly petrified," said Mark. "It's almost like the earth up here;
only they don't seem to have gotten to trolley cars yet."
"Maybe they would if the moon hadn't cooled off when it did, and killed
them all," suggested Jack. "But, I say, let's get down to something
more practical than theorizing."
"What, for instance?" asked Mark.
"Looking for something to eat," went on Jack. "I'm nearly starved, and
I have only half a sandwich left. I want to eat it, yet, if I do, I
don't know where I'm going to get more. And as for water, I'd give a
handful of diamonds, if I had them, for half a glass of even warm
water."
"Yes, we do need food and water badly," said Andy.
"Then let's look for it," suggested Jack. "If we can find food in any
of these houses or shops, I don't believe the people will care if we
take it."
"Find food here?" cried Mark. "Why, you must be crazy! All the food is
turned to stone, and what isn't would be spoiled! Why, no one has been
alive here for thousands and thousands of years!"
"That's nothing," asserted Jack. "Don't you remember reading how, in
the arctic regions, they have found the bodies of prehistoric elephants
and mastodons encased in blocks of ice, where they have been for
centuries. The meat is perfectly preserved because of the cold. And
what of the grains of wheat they find in the coffins of Egyptian
mummies? Some of that is three thousand years old, yet it grows when
they plant it, and they can make bread of it.
"Now, maybe we can find some wheat or something to eat in some of these
houses. If there's meat, it will be perfectly preserved, for the
temperature is below freezing."
"That may be," admitted Mark, convinced, in spite of himself, "but it's
turned to stone, I tell you."
"The outside part may be," said Jack, "but if we can crack off the
outside layer of stone we may find some good meat inside. I'm going to
look, anyhow."
"That's not a bad idea!" cried Andy with enthusiasm. "Think of having a
loaf of bread and some beefsteak thousands of years old. I suppose they
had beefsteak here," he added cautiously.
"Some kind of meat, anyhow," agreed Jack. "Well, let's look for a place
that was once a restaurant or hotel, and we'll see what luck we have.
Come on."
They walked along the silent streets, with their silent occupants, and
finally Jack found what he was seeking. It was an eating place, to
judge by the appearance, and at tables inside were seated stone men and
women.
"Back to the kitchen!" cried Jack with enthusiasm. "There's where we'll
find food, if there is any!"
"It'll be all stone," declared Mark, but he and Andy followed Jack.
They came to the place where was what appeared to be a stove. It was
more like a brick oven, however, than a modern range, though in dishes
that were now stone something was being cooked when the catastrophe
occurred.
"There's meat, I'll wager!" cried Jack, pointing to several objects on
a table. They looked like chunks of beef, but when Mark struck them
with the end of his life-torch they gave forth a sound as if a rock had
been tapped.
"What did I tell you?" Mark asked, "Nothing but rocks. And the bread is
also a stone," he added bitterly.
"You're right," admitted Jack, with a sigh. "And I'm getting hungrier
than ever." They all were. For days they had been without sufficient
food, and now, when it was almost within their reach, they were denied
it by this curious trick of nature. With pale and wan faces they gazed
at each other, wetting their parched lips, for they had some time since
taken the last of their scant supply of water, and they were very
thirsty.
"I guess it's all up with us," murmured Mark. "We'll soon be like these
poor people here--blocks of stone."
"If we only could change this meat back into it's original shape,"
spoke Jack musingly, smiting his fist against a block of beef.
Suddenly Andy uttered a cry.
"I have it!" he fairly shouted.
"What?" asked Jack.
"I have a plan to get meat out of this hunk of stone!"
The two boys gazed at the old hunter as though they thought he had lost
his reason, but, chuckling gleefully, Andy took from his pouch several
cartridges, and proceeded to remove the wads, and pour the powder from
the paper shells out on the stone table.
"I'll have some meat for us," he muttered. "We shan't starve now!"
CHAPTER XXVII
THE BLACK POOL
"What are you going to do, Andy?" asked Jack, as he watched the old
hunter.
"What am I going to do? Why, I'm going to blast out some of this meat,
that's what I'm going to do! I heard you boys talking about elephants
and other things being preserved for centuries in a cake of ice, and,
if that's true, why won't the meat in this petrified city be preserved
just as well? It's always below freezing here, and that's cold enough."
"But the meat has turned to stone," objected Mark.
"Only the outside part of it, to my thinking," answered Andy. "I
believe that inside these lumps of rock we'll find good, fresh meat!"
"But how are you going to get it?" asked Jack.
"Just as I told you--blast it out with some of the powder from my
cartridges. I used to be a miner before I turned hunter, and when we
wanted gold we used to fire a charge in some rocks. Now we want meat,
and I'm going to do the same thing. I'll put some powder underneath
this block of stone that looks as if it was a chunk of roast beef, and
we'll see what happens. It's lucky I saved some of my cartridges."
While he was talking the old hunter had taken some of the powder and
put it back in one of the paper shells. Then, making a fuse by twisting
some powder grains in a piece of paper he happened to have in his
pocket, he inserted it in the improvised bomb, using some dirt and
small stones with which to tamp down the charge. He discovered a crack
in the big stone, which they hoped would prove to be a chunk of roast
beef, and Andy put the cartridge in that.
"Look out now, boys," he called, "I'm going to light the fuse. I didn't
make a heavy charge, but it might do some damage, so we'll go outside."
They hurried from the place, with its silent guests and waiters, and
reached the street. A moment later there sounded a dull explosion.
"Now, let's see what we've got!" called Jack.
Back to the kitchen they ran, the two boys in the lead.
"Why--why--the stone has disappeared!" cried Jack, in disappointment,
as he glanced all around.
"Yes, but look here," added Mark. "Here are bits of meat," and he
picked up from the stone table some scraps of meat.
"Is it really roast beef?" cried Jack. "Good to eat?"
Mark smelled of it. Then he put the morsel cautiously to his lips. The
next instant it had disappeared. It was proof enough.
"Good! I should say it was good!" exclaimed Mark. "I wish there was
more of it! What happened to the rock of meat, Andy?"
"I used too heavy a charge, and it blew all to pieces. I'll know better
next time. There are lots more chunks of meat, and we'll soon have a
feast. I'll make another bombshell."
He worked rapidly while Jack sampled some of the shreds of meat that
had been scattered about by the explosion. The beef was perfectly
cooked, and in spite of its great age it was as fresh and palatable as
frozen meat ever is. Besides the heat generated by the explosion had
partly thawed it, so that there was no trouble in chewing it.
Once more came the explosion, a slight one this time, and when the
adventurers re-entered the kitchen they found that what had been a lump
of stone had been broken open, and the middle part, like the kernel of
a nut, was sweet and good. It was cooked, so they did not have to eat
it raw.
"Say, maybe this isn't good!" exclaimed Jack, chewing away. "It's the
best ever!"
"And there's enough in this city to keep us alive for months, if we
can't find the projectile in that time," declared Andy.
"Don't you think we will?" asked Mark.
"Of course, but I was only just mentioning it. Now, eat all you want,
boys, I have quite a few cartridges left. I didn't fire away as many as
I thought I did, and we can blast out a dinner any time we want it. So
eat hearty!"
They needed no second invitation, and for the first time in several
days they had enough to eat. It was comfortable in the petrified
restaurant, too, for they could move about without carrying their life-
torches constantly in their hand. The gases from the perforated boxes
filled the rooms, and were not quickly dispelled by the poisonous
vapors as they were outside, so they could walk around in comparative
freedom.
"Now, if we could only blast out a loaf of bread, we'd be all right,"
said Jack. They found some petrified loaves, but on breaking one open
it was found to be stone all the way through.
Spurred on by an overwhelming thirst, they wandered about the dead
city, but found no moisture. They tried to chew some of the pale green
vegetation that grew more plentiful on this side of the moon, but it
was exceedingly bitter, and they could not stand it, though there was
some juice in it.
They crossed the city, and wandered out into the country beyond. It
appeared to have been a fertile land before the stone death settled
down on it. They saw farmers in the fields, turned into images, beside
the oxen with which they had been plowing. But nowhere was there a sign
of water. Had it not been for a frozen rice pudding, they would have
perished that first day in the stone city.
As it was, they dragged out a miserable existence, eating from time to
time of the blasted meat. But even this palled on them after a while,
for their lips were parched and cracked, and their tongues were swollen
in their mouths.
"I can't stand this any longer!" cried Jack.
"What are you going to do?" asked Mark.
"Go out and look for water. There must be some in the country outside
if there isn't any in this city. I'm going to have a look. Besides, if
I'm going to die, I might as well die while I'm busy. I'm not going to
sit here in this dreadful place and give up."
His words urged them to follow him, and, with lagging steps, for they
were weak and faint, they went from the restaurant, which they had made
their home since coming to the petrified city.
Out into the open fields they went, but their search seemed likely to
be in vain. Between times of looking for the water they scanned the sky
for a sight of the projectile, which, hoping against hope, they thought
they might see hovering over them. But there was no sight of it.
They came to a vast, level plain, girt with mountains, a lonesome
place, where there was no sign of life. Listlessly they walked over it.
Suddenly Andy, who was in the lead, uttered a cry and sprang forward.
The boys ran to him, and found the old hunter gazing into the depths of
a great black pool, which filled a depression in the surface of the
moon. It was a small crater, and was filled, nearly to the top, with
some black liquid, which gloomily reflected back the light of the sun.
"I'm going to have a drink!" cried Andy, and before the boys could stop
him he threw himself face downward at the edge of the black pool.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE SIGNAL FAILS
"Stop! Don't drink that! It may be poison!" yelled Jack.
"Pull him back!" shouted Mark, and together they advanced on the old
hunter. They tried to drag him away from the black pool, but Andy shook
them off.
"Let--me--alone!" he gasped, as he bent over the uninviting liquid and
drank deeply. "It's water, I tell you--good water--and I'm almost--
dead--from--thirst!"
"Water? Is that water?" cried Jack.
"Well, it's the nearest thing to it that I've tasted since I've been
lost on the moon," spoke Andy, as he slowly arose. "My, but that was
good!" he added fervently.
"But--water?" gasped Mark. "How can there be water here?"
"Taste and see," invited the old hunter.
They hesitated a moment, and then followed his example. The liquid--
water it evidently had once been--had a peculiar taste, but it was not
bad. By some curious chemical action, which they never understood, the
liquid had been prevented from evaporating, nor was it frozen or
petrified as was everything else on the moon.
What gave the liquid its peculiar black color they could not learn.
Sufficient for them that it was capable of quenching their thirst, and
they all drank deeply and refilled their bottles.
"Now, I feel like eating again," spoke Andy, "We can take some of this
back with us, and have a good meal on blasted meat. Whenever we get
thirsty we'll have to make a trip back here for water."
The boys agreed with him. They examined the black pool. It appeared to
be filled by hidden springs, though there was no bubbling, and the
surface was as unruffled as a mirror. The liquid was not very inviting,
being as black as ink, but the color appeared to be a sort of
reflection, for when the water, if such it was, had been put into
bottles it at once became clear, nor did it stain their faces or hands.
"Well, it's another queer thing in this queer moon," said Jack. "I wish
the two professors could see this place. They'd have lots to write
about."
"I wonder if we'll ever see them again?" asked Mark.
"Sure," replied Jack hopefully. "We'll fill our lunch baskets, take a
lot of water along, and have another hunt for the projectile soon."
They did, but with no success. For several days more they lived in the
petrified city, the meat encased in its block of stone, which Andy
blasted from time to time, and the black water keeping them alive. From
time to time they went out in the surrounding country, looking for the
projectile. But they could not find the place where they had left it,
nor could they find even the place where they had picked up the lost
tool that had cost them so much suffering. They were more completely
lost than ever. They crossed back and forth on the bridge over the
crater chasm, and penetrated for many miles in a radius from that,
marking their way by chipping off pieces of the rocky pinnacles, as
they did not want to leave the petrified city behind.
From some peaks they caught glimpses of other towns that had fallen
under the strange spell of the petrification. Some were larger and some
smaller than the one they called "home."
Jack proposed visiting some of them, thinking they might find better
food, but Mark and Andy decided it was best to stay where they were, as
they were nearer the supposed location of the projectile.
"I think they'll manage to fix it up somehow, so it will move," said
Andy, "and then they'll come to look for us. I hope it will be soon,
though."
"Why?" asked Jack, struck by something in the tone of the old hunter.
"Because," replied Andy, "I am afraid our life-torches won't last much
longer. Mine seems to be weakening. I have to hold it very close to my
face now to breathe in comfort, while at first the oxygen from it was
so strong that I could hold it two feet off and never notice the
poisonous moon vapors."
This was a new danger, and, thinking of it, the faces of the boys
became graver than ever. Death seemed bound to get them somehow.
Two more days went by. They had now been lost on the moon over a week.
Each one now noticed that his life-torch was weakening. How much longer
would they last? They dared not answer that question. They could only
hope.
The sun, too, was moving away from them. Soon the long night would set
in. By Mark's computation there was only three more days of daylight
left. What would happen in the desolate darkness?
As they were returning from the black pool, with their water bottles
filled, and put inside the fur bags to prevent the frost from reaching
them, Mark happened to gaze over across a line of towering peaks. What
he saw caused him to gasp in astonishment.
"Jack! Andy! See!" he whispered hoarsely, pointing a trembling finger
at the sky.
There, outlined against the cloudless heavens, was a long, black shape,
floating through the air about two miles distant.
"The projectile! The _Annihilator!_" yelled Jack. "Shout! Call to them!
Wave your hands! Andy, fire your gun! They have started off, and they
can't see us. We must make them hear!"
Together they raised their voices in a mighty shout. The old hunter
fired his gun several times. They waved their hands frantically.
But the projectile never swerved from its course. On it moved slowly,
those in it paying no heed to the wanderers, for they did not hear
them. Andy fired his gun again, but the signal failed, and a few
minutes later the _Annihilator_ was lost to sight behind a great peak.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE FIELD OF DIAMONDS
Dumbly the wanderers gazed at each other. They could not comprehend it
at first. That the projectile, on which their very lives depended in
this dead world of the moon, should float away and leave them seemed
incredible. Yet they had witnessed it.
"Do--do you really think we saw it--saw the _Annihilator_, Mark?" asked
Jack in a low voice, after several minutes had passed.
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