Перші люди на Місяці
Chapter 11 — The Mooncalf Pastures
Iremembervaguelythatwedeclaredourintentionofstandingnononsensefromanyconfoundedinsects,thatwedecideditillbecamementohideshamefullyuponameresatellite,thatweequippedourselveswithhugearmfulsofthefungus—whetherformissilepurposesornotIdonotknow—and,heedlessofthestabsofthebayonetscrub,westartedforthintothesunshine.
AlmostimmediatelywemusthavecomeupontheSelenites.Thereweresixofthem,andtheyweremarchinginsinglefileoverarockyplace,makingthemostremarkablepipingandwhiningsounds.Theyallseemedtobecomeawareofusatonce,allinstantlybecamesilentandmotionless,likeanimals,withtheirfacesturnedtowardsus.
ForamomentIwassobered.
“Insects,”murmuredCavor,“insects!AndtheythinkI’mgoingtocrawlaboutonmystomach—onmyvertebratedstomach!
“Stomach,”herepeatedslowly,asthoughhechewedtheindignity.
Thensuddenly,withasortoffury,hemadethreevaststridesandleapttowardsthem.Heleaptbadly;hemadeaseriesofsomersaultsintheair,whirledrightoverthem,andvanishedwithanenormoussplashamidstthecactusbladders.WhattheSelenitesmadeofthisamazing,andtomymindundignifiedirruptionfromanotherplanet,Ihavenomeansofguessing.Iseemtorememberthesightoftheirbacksastheyraninalldirections,butIamnotsure.Alltheselastincidentsbeforeoblivioncamearevagueandfaintinmymind.IknowImadeasteptofollowCavor,andtrippedandfellheadlongamongtherocks.Iwas,Iamcertain,suddenlyandvehementlyill
