Перші люди на Місяці
Chapter 17 — The Fight in the Cave of the Moon Butchers
[2]Idonotrememberseeinganywoodenthingsonthemoon;doors,tables,everythingcorrespondingtoourterrestrialjoinerywasmadeofmetal,andIbelieveforthemostpartofgold,whichasametalwould,ofcourse,naturallyrecommenditself—otherthingsbeingequal—onaccountoftheeaseinworkingit,anditstoughnessanddurability.
Welayforalongtimenotingallthesethingsinsilence.“Well?”saidCavoratlast.
Icrouchedoverandturnedtohim.Ihadcomeuponabrilliantidea.“Unlesstheyloweredthosebodiesbyacrane,”Isaid,“wemustbenearerthesurfacethanIthought.”
“Why?”
“Themooncalfdoesn’thop,andithasn’tgotwings.”
Hepeeredovertheedgeofthehollowagain.“Iwondernow—”hebegan.“Afterall,wehavenevergonefarfromthesurface—”
Istoppedhimbyagriponhisarm.Ihadheardanoisefromthecleftbelowus!
Wetwistedourselvesabout,andlayasstillasdeath,witheverysensealert.InalittlewhileIdidnotdoubtthatsomethingwasquietlyascendingthecleft.VeryslowlyandquitenoiselesslyIassuredmyselfofagoodgriponmychain,andwaitedforthatsomethingtoappear.
“Justlookatthosechapswiththehatchetsagain,”Isaid.
“They’reallright,”saidCavor.
Itookasortofprovisionalaimatthegapinthegrating.IcouldhearnowquitedistinctlythesofttwitteringoftheascendingSelenites,thedaboftheirhandsagainsttherock,andthefallingofdustfromtheirgripsastheyclambered.
