_MUSCÆ VOMITORIÆ_
“I saw three insects alight ... and after careful consideration
I classed them as _Musca Vomitoria_ (blue-bottle flies) ... of
exceptional size.”—_Insect Life._
“How is the air, Gilbert?” inquired Dennis, as Gilbert emerged from the
laboratory where he had been testing a collected sample.
“Excellent,” he replied; “about the same as ours but a little drier,
though not much; it will suit us admirably.”
“What about the gravity?” observed Ross, at the same time walking
across to the gravitometer. “I see it is almost the same as Earth
has now and exactly what she used to have. It measures a speed of
thirty-two feet per second of a falling substance for each second of
motion.”
“That makes a unit force of half an ounce, then,” remarked Dennis.
“Roughly, yes,” replied Gilbert, “about one-thirty-secondth of a pound,
so it will be rather better for us than Earth.”
“Then it is no use waiting any longer, we might as well land,” said
Dennis.
“Right you are!” exclaimed Gilbert, at the same time moving the
ventilator-switch and closing the artificial air apparatus. “We may
as well save our breath,” he observed. “What about our meeting any
possible people?”
“We had better be fully armed,” counselled Dennis; “and then we’ll
explore.”
Accordingly, they each armed themselves with a brace of noiseless
revolvers, containing fifty needle-like capsule-shots apiece, fired by
compressed air; on striking, they flatten against the body and burst,
emitting a powerful corrosive acid which instantly bites through every
known substance to the skin, in which it at once becomes absorbed, and
in the same second the whole of the blood is solidified. No cure or
antidote has been found, and so certain is it in effect that death is
inevitable.
Having made the vessel immovable and secure, they stood at the foot of
the ladder wondering which way to go. They were in a great clearing,
carpeted with beautiful green grass as even and close as if freshly
mown. On this grass were clusters of shrubs bearing reddish leaves and
brilliant yellow blossoms, the whole forming a perfect, harmonious
scheme of colour. Encircling this was a dense wood, and the visitors
could not help noticing the strange fact that though the grass was as
brilliantly green as any on Earth in spring, all other vegetation, such
as trees and shrubs, was a russet-brown, here and there tinged with
red, like the colours on Earth in autumn. Their attention was also
forcibly drawn to the grass, which on Earth grows thin and sparsely
under trees and in all places where light cannot reach it, but here
was, in such situations, as thick and velvety and as luscious as in the
open, proving that this vegetation was not so dependent on light as
that on Earth. Almost immediately they had stepped on the thick, mossy
turf they felt all their doubts needless, and there came over them a
feeling of serenity and confidence that altogether disarmed suspicion
of evil.
Passing along this velvety carpet, they approached the bordering
wood and entered its delightful shade. Here were thousands of flowers
which on Earth bloom only in certain seasons, all growing together—the
primrose, violet, daffodil, rose, chrysanthemum fuchsia, snowdrop, and
countless others in splendid profusion, giving the air a ravishing
perfume. A few yards further on was a long, untrimmed hedge of
sweetbriar, and as the breeze bore its exquisite fragrance towards
them, they could not withstand the desire to sit under its pleasant
shade, quietly to enjoy the beauty of their surroundings.
From the elevation of their approach in the ship, this Bonian “Kidney”
had seemed to them an ideal place; the country waved in undulating
stretches of land and water—here a sea, there a lake, and running
between and beyond were many silver streaks of river, narrowing and
fading into seeming strands of silver wire. As they lay beside the
deliciously scented hedge, they saw beyond them a long level stretch of
grass like a well-kept lawn, ending in a glimpse of blue sea.
“Let us go to the shore,” suggested Dennis; and looking round,
continued,—“isn’t this a glorious country! I feel the mild air
invigorating me so much that I glory in being alive!”
“I never dreamed of anything so delightful!” exclaimed Ross, drawing in
a full breath of the sweet air, almost chewing it in his enjoyment.
“Come along then!” cried Gilbert. “I feel like a boy again, and I’m
going to have a swim in that sea, if I get sharked!”
Across the moorland they went, and soon came to a cliff of earth down
which they scrambled to the beach—a stretch of beautiful sands. Some
two miles distant there jutted into the sea a long, flat rock with
deep water around it; Ross pointed this out and suggested bathing from
there, so in order to get a better view they reclimbed the cliff and
walked along the edge of it to the spot indicated. The walking here
was as easy and soft as on the richest carpet; the grass was thick and
mossy, and below this were several inches of peat. The cliffs were
most peculiar in shape, some sharp at the top like a long knife-edge,
others pointed like needles, and all of a soft, red sandstone. Very
soon they came to the outer edge of this promontory, which divided two
bays and ran into the sea like a long and attenuated letter V, and they
stood lost in delighted wonderment, for the coast beyond was opened
out before them in a mighty sweep; in and out the line went, bordered
with an edging of sand and rocks and seaweed and splashing, sparkling
foam from the broken waves, as if a long piece of diamond-trimmed lace
had been laid open to view. Below them, the sea had hollowed out great
basins in the rocks, forming gigantic pools of immense depth, and rocks
innumerable were scattered about, giving plain evidence of the power of
the Bonian sea. These rocks were spread open and piled upon each other,
their peculiar square shapes resembling enormous toy bricks.
Full of the vigour of life and joyously exhilarated with the beauty of
the scene, the explorers raced down the cliff and bathed in one of the
pools, to their great enjoyment. After running about in the sun till
dry, they dressed and retraced their steps, but had not proceeded far
before they began to feel very uncomfortable. The sea-water had been
somewhat sticky, and though they were quite dry before they dressed,
their skin and clothing were now united, and their hair also was matted
into one solid piece like a shell, all shrinking in the sunshine to
a painful extent. Their clothing not being quite so elastic as their
skin, considerably impeded their progress, so much so as soon to stop
it altogether, and at last they could walk no more but had to tumble
down as gently as their stiffened limbs would permit.
“Now we’re in for it!” groaned Dennis.
“It’s glorious!” said Ross, ruefully. “I feel like a capsuled herring!
And here we shall be, in full view of Earth telescopes!”
“I never thought of that!” exclaimed Gilbert, trying to laugh, but his
stiffened face refused to bend into a smile, and the laugh turned into
a kind of choke. “But I doubt if they will be able to pick us out,
though if they can, we shall have been giving them an entertainment to
some tune!”
“I am afraid we shall have to roll down the cliff into the sea again
and stay there till this gummy stuff has softened,” said Dennis,
through his teeth, for it was next to impossible to move his lips
without cracking his skin.
“And if we do, we shall be in the same state again,” mumbled Ross,
with closed mouth. “Besides, how could we swim? We should just flop
over with a smack into the mouth of the first fish that chanced to be
waiting. Oh, my nose itches terribly! Could you reach it with your
elbow, or knee, or foot, or anything, Dennis? I positively can’t bend
my arm! My limbs are held as if in a vice.” And he rolled over like a
semi-animated mummy and rubbed his face in the grass, which made him
sneeze. “I believe that’s split my face off; I felt it crack! And my
nose is worse than ever. It’s awful!” he spluttered. “How is it that
when you can’t or daren’t scratch, some inaccessible place itches and
tickles till one gets frantic?”
“For the very same reason that if you forget your pocket-handkerchief,
you don’t need it till you recollect it isn’t there, and then you want
it urgently,” said Gilbert; and then suddenly,—“didn’t we pass a stream
in coming? I believe we are close by it; let us roll in and soak till
we get limp.”
With that the ‘expedition’ rolled over and over painfully for a hundred
yards or so, when they got to the bank, down which they tumbled into
the narrow and shallow stream which flowed from a spring a little
higher on the hill. Down they went, one after the other, all in line,
the head of one to the feet of the one higher, which was accomplished
with considerable pain and difficulty. Their bodies dammed up the
narrow stream, and in a short time the water was raised sufficiently
high to flow over them.
“We shall soon soften now,” observed Dennis, painfully trying to
brighten up the spirits of his companions.
“I hope we shall, for my only object in life just now is to kill a
beetle which is stuck on my eyebrow, and he won’t be worked off, the
brute!” exclaimed Ross, irritably. “I believe he is either plucking it
out or biting it off!”
“Keep calm, old man!” said Gilbert, soothingly, “it shows his
appreciation of you, and you ought to feel flattered—Great Bona! A gnat
or something is biting my nose, and I can’t wash him off!”
“Keep calm, old man!” repeated Ross, mockingly, “it shows his
appreciation!”
“That’s all very well, Ross, but——” and Gilbert broke off to laugh, or
rather, he attempted to do so.
With jest and banter they whiled away the time, but in the course of
about half an hour they were chilled to the bone, though they were limp
again. The first to get up was Dennis, the lowest, who, with stiffened
joints, painfully knelt, then turned round, saying, “How do you feel
now, both of—— Great Bona!” he suddenly ejaculated, at the same time
remaining with one knee in the water, as though turned to stone, his
eyes starting with astonishment, the while his two friends stared at
him in wild alarm. They did not remove their gaze from his face for an
instant, whilst he gazed at them as though bewitched. Still looking
at Dennis, Ross scrambled up and approached him, in doing which he
had to pass Gilbert, who was in the middle. In the act of passing, he
glanced at him, then stood still, staring first at him and then at
Dennis, as if transfixed, whilst Gilbert, at sight of him, was too
surprised to make any further effort to rise, but sat where he was in
the stream-bed, the water pouring past on each side of him.
“Am I mad, or are you?” blurted out Dennis. “I swear you are both as
blue as blue-bottle flies!”
“I?” queried each of the others, in one breath. “You two are!”
“Do you mean to say _I_ am the colour of you two?” exclaimed Ross, in
amazement.
“If _my_ face is as yours,” uttered Gilbert, despairingly, “I shall die
with grief!”
“Look at our hands and clothes!” exclaimed Ross, so ruefully that
Dennis burst into uncontrollable laughter, sitting back in the stream
without noticing it, his friends joining in the mirth till they could
laugh no more, and then they all stripped only to find they were dyed
from head to foot a brilliant and magnificent blue—hair, skin, nails,
as well as clothing.
“Well! this _is_ a glorious picnic!” laughed Dennis, boisterously.
“It’s all very well to laugh,” remonstrated Ross, himself at the same
time laughing heartily, “but the honour of Britain is at stake, and if
we meet any natives here, they’ll think us humans a bright lot with
this sample before them.”
“Oh, don’t! Ross,” pleaded Gilbert, holding his paining sides tightly.
“Don’t! don’t, I am sore. I can’t laugh any more, I really can’t!”
“Bright lot!” gasped Dennis, in jerks, for speech was painful with
excessive laughter; “we _are_ a bright lot, polished like mirrors. For
Bona’s sake tell me if my tears are blue, or if they’ve washed any blue
off my face! No? Then we are permanently and beautifully blue.” And
they had another fit of laughter.
“How are we to dry ourselves?” asked Gilbert; “by the time this
coating has dried we shall perhaps be stiff again.”
“Oh, don’t trouble, Gilbert, old man!” replied Dennis, airily. “We’ll
find another stream and soak ourselves red, or green, or something; one
or two colours more won’t matter much now!”
“I say, you fellows, be serious!” panted Ross. “Think a bit, if you
can! Don’t you see that this is beyond a joke? If we come across any
folk here, what _will_ they think of us?”
By dint of each insisting on the others taking it seriously they began
to talk the matter over, and could only conclude that one of the waters
must have contained some substance similar to potassium ferrocyanide,
but non-poisonous, and the other some ingredient like a ferric
chloride, and the long immersion had precipitated prussian blue—dyed
them blue. What the substance really was they could not tell, for
though they got samples of both waters later and analysed them, they
could find no chemicals with which they were acquainted, and none of
the reagents known on Earth revealed anything in either sample except
H_{2}O, leaving a considerable quantity of unknown substance—and always
each was harmless alone, yet when the two were mixed together, though
the water remained perfectly transparent, any substance of Earth placed
in the mixture became dyed a fast blue.
“Let us get back to the ship,” said Dennis; “it is only prussian blue,
and we can get it off in the lab.”
“And let us hope no natives will see us till we are ourselves again,”
rejoined Gilbert. “Ross is in a sweat about his complexion!”
Laughing gaily, they made tracks for the _Regina’s_ laboratory, where
their troubles would soon be at an end. After proceeding about half-way
to the vessel, they were both surprised and annoyed to see several
people step out of the wood and cross the open to meet them.
“Drat it all!” ejaculated Ross, exasperated. “Why couldn’t they have
waited a little till we had got this wretched stuff off.”
“‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ as the old saying is,” said Dennis,
laughing, but feeling much embarrassed.
By this time the Bonians had met them, expressing no surprise at
sight of their visitors, whom they saluted by placing two fingers on
their foreheads. Then they talked fast and long in a language quite
unintelligible to the explorers, who themselves were not understood.
“Here’s a treat!” said Gilbert; “we know about a dozen languages
between us and not a word they can understand.” Then turning to the
natives, he pointed to where the Earth was and, utterly oblivious of
the fact that talking was no use, he continued, with pointings and
energetic gesticulations, “We have come from there,” pointing to Earth,
“in that ship,” pointing to it, “to see here,” pointing downwards and
embracing the whole country with a wave of his arm, and speaking very
loudly and distinctly.
Whether they thought he was mad or not is doubtful, but they drew apart
and talked together, looking in turn at the strangers and their ship.
At last one of them ran swiftly to the wood, the others still standing
silently apart, and Ross said, “Let us get into the ship and take this
stuff off, we can talk with these people after,” at the same time
stepping forward.
Immediately these innocent-looking people advanced to bar the way, and
held across the path one of some curious thin rods they carried and
which the visitors thought were wood, but which were really highly
magnetic steel, for instantly the three travellers became rigid, unable
to move a limb, and experiencing all the tingling sensation of a
galvanic shock.
For a few minutes they stood thus, with the rod before them held at
each end by one of the natives, when from amongst the trees came about
fifty others, all similarly armed. One, evidently the chief, stepped
out and signed for the rod to be removed, and with its removal, the
power of speech and motion returned to the visitors. Gilbert, who was
a little peppery, drew his revolver, more for show than anything,
but whether his expression gave him away, or they suspected danger,
movement was again made impossible by the holding before him of one of
the rods.
Again did the king, or leader, sign for the rod to be lowered, and
for the second time the strangers were free, and they were now more
cautious. It was, however, impossible to understand or be understood,
so Dennis tore a leaf out of his pocket-book, but as he could make no
visible impression on the deep blue paper by his equally blue pencil,
he pointed to the sky and drew lines on the ground to represent
the solar system, with leaves for the planets, which they at once
recognised. For as a great portion of the atmosphere is practically
devoid of particles by means of which sunlight could be reflected, the
stars and the solar system are distinctly visible in the broad daylight
on a dark sky—as is the case on Mars and on Luna. The Bonians instantly
corrected Dennis in the position of their planet, fixing the satellite
where she was at that particular moment, proving they were _au fait_ in
the science of astronomy. By this means they comprehended the situation
and immediately, by signs and tokens, showed their friendliness and
laid down their weapons.
The visitors also put down their arms, which excited much curiosity,
and Ross explained their action by shooting at a stone, but they were
primitive compared with the rods, which instantly stopped all movement
and rendered anything impotent; when necessary, these rods would fuse
stone and bring steel to a white heat; they were not used to take life,
for the Bonians never killed or tortured any living creature.
The three visitors had forgotten about their shining complexions,
until one of the natives pointed in comparison to his own white skin
and to the face of Ross. Poor Ross nearly died with mortification,
for he was fair and clear-skinned—that peculiar clearness which often
accompanies chestnut hair—and of all these things he was vain. It was
his only weakness, and to be suddenly recalled to fact by so personal
a reference humiliated him terribly. He tried to make them understand,
and in part succeeded by rousing their curiosity without convincing
them; so thinking he would be in good company, he, by signs, persuaded
several of them to bathe in the sea, which was not difficult, seeing
they were fond of it. Ross then managed to make them comprehend that
they had to dry in the sun, which they also did willingly enough,
little thinking of the surprise he had in store for them in the change
that was coming, for he determined they should repeat his experiences
and get blued, but he was a little disappointed to find their linen to
be still soft and not at all sticky, nor were the people stiffened in
their clothing as the visitors had been, and to the touch their hair
was still soft and loose. However, these matters were mere details and
Ross proceeded with his joke, grimly determined to blue his victims
as effectively as he and his friends were dyed. When they came to the
stream he tried to persuade them to lie still in it, in their clothing,
but they did not see this at all, and only the desire of the chief
personage to please the visitors caused them to comply with Ross’s
request, and there they stayed, minute after minute, in their clothing,
for about half an hour, at the end of which time their skins were
undyed and their linen was white as before.
At last they got up and squeezed the water out of their clothing,
feeling that it was a funny sort of joke, the point of which neither
they nor their companions could see—nor could the visitors, and poor
Ross, who had run the whole entertainment, both looked and felt
foolish and, if possible, bluer than ever, especially when the people
seemed to ask for an explanation of his joke and evidently considered
the strangers a true specimen of those living on Earth.
It was plain the Bonians were not of the same substance as Earthy folk,
and therefore only the laboratory could restore the Terrestrians to
their personal comfort and, in Ross’s case, good looks, for the other
two didn’t mind much, not having so much to lose. So off they started
straight for the ship, like three enormous blue-bottle flies walking
upright, sans wings, with a crowd of fair, English-flesh-coloured
people in their wake. Telling them by signs that they would soon come
out again the same colour as the natives, they rushed to the laboratory
and bathed themselves first in one thing and then another, but nothing
would make the slightest impression on their blueness. They were
well and truly dyed and polished with a very fast colour, and at the
end of their exertions, with blistered, sore and cracking skin, they
had to face the fact as it stood, and trust to time to bring them to
their normal condition. Meanwhile the Bonians were free to consider
all people on Earth like the sample submitted, which was felt to be a
severe blow to England’s pride and glory as represented by the three
explorers, and to Ross in particular, for apparently never more would
his clear skin and chestnut hair be admired by any one unless they were
predisposed to take the blues.
“We’ve got to stay here till we pale again, that’s clear!” declared he,
emphatically. “I shall never go back to England this colour, if I never
go at all!”
“And I have no ambition to be one of the first blue men on the face of
the Earth!” agreed Gilbert, ruefully.
“We’ll see!” said Dennis, cheerily. “It may wear off in a day or two.”
“That’s all right; the people here think we are naturally blue, and we
cannot undeceive them, worse luck! But I am certainly not going to give
any others a sight of myself just yet!” retorted Ross, saying which he
set about preparing their simple meal, it being his turn.
“We have not attempted to telepath with these people,” remarked Dennis,
after their meal. “Thought is universal and knows no language, and
we might be able to exchange ideas that way as conversation is not
possible.”
“Certainly!” replied Gilbert. “We can try it anyway, and if successful
they may perhaps tell us how we can get rid of this dreadful metallic
blueness, and ease Ross’s mind. I see they are waiting for us.”
The three then descended, and by telepathy they soon found a ready
means of communicating thought, and all difficulties were at an end.
Seeing their skins cracked and blistered, the Bonians gave them
some kind of ointment which, when applied, proved both soothing and
healing, and on hearing the story of their adventure at the spring,
were considerably astonished; as such a change of colour was unknown to
them, it could only come from a peculiarity in the Earthian skin and
clothing, which combined with the chemicals in the water to produce
dye, and after some little experimenting by the natives, a lotion was
made for their visitors which gradually dissolved the blue pigment on
the skin. In the course of two months desquamation commenced over the
whole surface of the body, and a week or so later, after the scales had
fallen, the travellers were flesh-coloured once more, for which they
were devoutly thankful.
In the meantime they had learned enough of the new language to make
themselves understood and to understand conversation, which, added to
telepathy, made them feel very much as if with friends, as they were.
They found the Bonians much more advanced in some things than the
people of Earth, whilst in others they were not so capable. They were
in constant communication with Venus, Mars, and all the planets of
the solar system except Earth, which alone seemed to be cut off from
telepathic influence. Messages could be sent by all to Earth, but they
were not understood, nor had any communication ever been received from
there by any of the planets. The Bonians were unable to say definitely
where the fault lay—whether the atmosphere surrounding Earth was not
favourable to telepathic messages from and to other worlds, or if the
perceptions of the Earthians were not sufficiently sensitive to other
influences; they thought the latter, and they were probably right, for
it transpired that at the first meeting by the spring, finding speech
impossible, they had earnestly telepathed, to no purpose, and though
but a few yards distant, the desire to use transmission of thought had
not suggested itself to the visitors till several hours had been spent
on the planet, whereas the desire should have been coincident with
their own; and while the natives telepathed easily, the three visitors
could only do so with difficulty though accustomed to it on their own
world, and when the people were not actually present, the Earthians
could not telepath to them or receive their messages, proving the
inferior mental perceptions of the Earth people.
It was most remarkable that no reply could come from Earth to
the Bonians, yet the three visitors could hold communication at
all times, and at the first thought it seemed to point to the
superiority of Earth, but not so when it was remembered that the
travellers were obliged to use special and elaborate ‘wave’ apparatus
in delicate sympathy with those on Earth, whereas the Bonians
and all other inhabitants of the solar system conversed by pure
telepathy—transmission of thought—alone, without instruments.
Dennis and his friends determined to put Bona in direct communication
with Earth by making another ‘wave’ apparatus like their own for
the natives, and after considerable time and trouble they succeeded
and, proud of their achievement, sent the first message from actual
Bonian soil. What was their astonishment, however, to find all their
work useless, for although the messages were really sent, Earth
did not receive any of them. They could ‘wave’ from the _Regina_,
but not from the planet; and after several weeks of most assiduous
experimenting, they were compelled to abandon the project and bow to
the inevitable—Earth and Earth alone was the one outcast in the system
over which old Sol ruled.
Disappointing as was the failure, it added considerably to the already
unique powers of the vessel, which, by some mysterious affinity in its
control of gravity, was alone enabled to hold communication with the
instruments on Earth, with which its own were in sympathy.
“Can you tell us, positively, what was the cause of your planet’s
coming into the Earth’s orbit?” asked Dennis, _àpropos_ of the subject
of gravitation which was under discussion.
“We do not know exactly,” was the reply; “according to the records we
were at one time beyond the star you call Neptune. We were even then
in the solar system as we are now, but had a double orbit, one round a
subsidiary sun as one of the members of a small solar family, and the
whole system of which we were a part revolved round our present sun,
but far outside the orbit of Neptune, and altogether invisible to your
Earth. The sun round which we revolved became cold, too cold to retain
its system, and we were more closely drawn into that of the greater
sun.”
“We on Earth know very little indeed of the limitless space beyond
Neptune,” said Ross; “our instruments reveal little to us beyond space
after space, and stars and more space _ad infinitum_.”
“It is, of course, the same with us now,” replied the Bonian, “but on
our former charts which you see here”—showing a collection—“you will
observe our original position, from which our present sun shows in the
photograph as an exceedingly fine spot—a star of the twenty-seventh
magnitude, as you would class them. Our world and its former sun
would then be quite invisible to you, as you say the limit of your
instruments is about the twenty-seventh magnitude. From the position
shown here we very slowly approached your orbit, for you will see from
these various photographs that Neptune was too far away to influence
us, as was Uranus, and we crossed the orbit of Saturn at this point,
when the planet was here”—showing the position on the map—“Jupiter was
far away here with Mars opposite—as you see—and as we were progressing
in this direction, you will notice by the position of your world in
this photograph that we were travelling straight for it, and the
voluminous records of the time state the terrible catastrophe that
seemed imminent. However, as opposing forces when equal repel one
another, we did not approach near enough to collide, and your somewhat
stronger gravity retained us, and we described a new orbit round
your Earth which does not seem to have affected our world in any way
beyond a slight alteration of the climate, to which the people became
accustomed along with the change, which was, of course, gradual.”
“We supposed some such cause must have effected the approach of your
world,” said Gilbert, “and many theories have been given by Earth
scientists, but we are indeed glad to have the matter placed beyond
doubt, strange as the explanation seems.”
The Bonians were so generous as to give the travellers copies of all
the photographs shown them, together with many celestial photographs
of the unthinkable space beyond Neptune, which were taken centuries
before, when the planet revolved in a different system; also a copy of
the ancient records. These constituted priceless gifts, and were of
inestimable benefit to the whole world of Earth, giving, as they did, a
verified account of the annexation by Earth of a moon.
They discovered that the Bonians were highly skilled in botany, and
that they were to a great extent responsible for much of the vegetation
on the planets belonging to the present solar system, as they had been
in the previous system, and therefore the friends aptly named them
the “spirits of vegetation.” On Bona were millions and millions of
varieties of trees, plants, flowers, herbage and grasses, which they
cultivated, sending the germs of their life on ether in the form of
microscopically fine dust, which travelled to certain of the planets
in such measure and variety as the individual worlds required, where
they fell more or less abundantly as the climatic conditions were
favourable, and it devolved on the Bonians to keep the worlds supplied;
otherwise, should the seeds fail to be propagated by birds, insects, or
by other plants, the variety would then die out. Here then would seem
to originate the first germs, or the early forms of vegetable life,
and by careful guarding and cross-fertilisation they obtained endless
varieties, some suited to extremes of heat and cold. During one of
the conversations, while the explorers were watching some luxuriant
blooms which would probably, they thought, become parasites on Earth,
perhaps some new order of orchid, the question was raised as to how
some similar plants would grow—as they eventually would—on warm lava,
and the natives told them that the plants were inoculated with a grub
of a certain bug which would withstand any heat, even fire. Gilbert
and Ross appeared a little incredulous, when Dennis observed,—“That
is not so very extraordinary, if you come to think it over, for many
parasitic forms of life in flesh-meat will withstand continued cooking
and then develop in the body of the eater, which is one of the reasons,
as you know, why our food is sterilised, compressed and enclosed in
hermetically sealed and germ-proof capsules. Microbes also may be
frozen in meat and remain inactive for years, yet be full of life and
grow on the meat being thawed.”
“Of course,” responded Gilbert; “now I come to think of it, Ross and
I bought a mummy to experiment with some years ago, and when we had
finished we set it on fire, and the gums and spices and seeds used in
embalming burned furiously. We then threw the ashes on the garden and a
dozen or more of the seeds took root and grew, although they were over
three thousand years old and had passed through fire, so burning does
not always destroy life.”
“No, it does not,” assented Ross, “for I myself obtained plants from
some seeds which I found embedded in lava, when I was unearthing some
buried ruins. I had forgotten it for the moment.” He then sank into
silence. Shortly Dennis asked him a question, but he was thinking so
deeply that he did not hear; instead of answering he turned to a native
and asked,—“Will this microbe, or grub, or whatever it is, stand actual
fire, like hot lava, or burning gums?”
“Certainly,” was the answer. “It is sent over to us from a certain
place in Jupiter. They cultivate it there and may give you some if you
wish it. I will inquire, but I must leave you to be alone;” saying
which he left them to transmit the message, returning shortly to say,
“I have a reply. If you go to Jupiter, and travel round the planet till
you find a large mountain with a crater like a flat cross, the people
will meet you there.”
“Could you not give us some of yours?” inquired Dennis, “and so prevent
the risk of our getting wrong?”
“No, you would have to get them from the animal direct and breed them
on your Earth to do any good. Ours are reared here, and would die if
they were taken away.”
All were considerably excited, and determined to take a few specimens
of this extraordinary creature back to Earth as a curiosity, but in
discussing the matter, a daring scheme occurred to them which this
bug might be the means of accomplishing. The Bonians advised them to
enlist the services of a clever microscopist and bacteriologist, in
order that they might deal with the creatures scientifically from the
outset. This, of course, necessitated a journey back to Earth, and as
they were now their normal selves there was no reason for delaying
their departure; they therefore decided to return home the following
week, which would make a three months’ stay on Bona, so this news was
‘waved’ to Earth, in accordance with the prearranged custom; for at the
close of each day they had carefully ‘waved’ their doings in detail—all
except the blueness and the object of their return; the former seemed
unnecessary, and it would be soon enough to publish the latter when the
bug was within their grasp.
“Now about the expert. Who will be best? Godfrey Spenser?” asked Ross,
in the midst of their preparations for departure.
“Most decidedly!” responded Dennis; “but we must look after him, as he
is a bit of a crank.”
“Very much so,” agreed Ross, laughing. “In his own line he is a genius,
but strange to say, he has a fixed idea that his special forte is in
electricity, about which he knows just enough to kill us all if we
don’t mind.”
“Oh, he’ll be all right on board,” declared Dennis. “Once get him on
the grub and microbe tack and he’ll forget to meddle.”
“We must hope so, anyway!” answered Ross.
“I only know him as a microscopist,” said Gilbert, smiling.
“In that he stands alone,” said Ross. “Shall we have him if he’ll come?”
“I think so, if Gilbert is agreeable,” replied Dennis; and on Gilbert
assenting, he continued, “I am sure we couldn’t do better, and as for
coming, he’ll be only too glad; he pressed me to allow him to come here
with us, but I thought it best not.”
A week soon passed, and with many a good-bye and promise of speedy
return they entered their vessel, and a few minutes later were slowly
soaring upwards from the strange and beautiful Bona. Once outside her
atmosphere, they made straight for Earth, and when nearing home, long
lines of ships, flying electric bunting, honoured their home-coming and
sailed with them to Derwent.
This time the aërial regulations were perfect and the _Regina_ settled
into her shed like a falling feather, her passengers coming out a
little later to receive their hero-worship.