TWO MEN IN THE MOON.
“Well, Doctor,” said I, as soon as our feet touched the ground, “the
moon is inhabited now if never before.”
“Yes, yes,” he answered, “and I am glad to find the inhabitants are of
such a lively disposition.”
“Oh, who can help being light-hearted,” I rejoined, “when one’s body is
so light?”
For as soon as we left our car we began to have the queerest sensations
of lightness. We felt as if we were standing on springs, which the least
motion would set off and up we would go toward the sky. Everything we
handled had but a small fraction of the weight it would possess on the
earth, and our great air-condensing machines we carried about with ease.
But however high we might jump we always returned to the ground, and
whether we were on top of the moon or on the bottom of it, it was pretty
certain that we could not fall off, any more than we could have fallen
off the earth before we voluntarily but so rashly left it.
My exhilaration of spirit did not last, for I could not help thinking of
our condition. The law of gravitation surely held us, although with less
force than we had been accustomed to, on account of the smaller size of
the moon; and how were we to get away from it?
I again appealed to my companion.
“I do not like the idea of spending the rest of our lives on the moon,
Doctor, but can you tell me how we are to prevent it? Can we ever get
back within the earth’s attraction again?”
“I have been pondering the subject myself,” he replied, “and I think I
can give you some hope of seeing home once more. If our old measurements
of the moon are correct, and if we are, as I suppose, somewhere near
the equator, we must be about fifteen hundred miles from the earth,
following the curve of the moon’s surface. Now, after we have finished
our investigations here, we can start for home on foot. We can cover a
good many miles a day, since walking can be no burden here, and we can
easily tow our balloon along. As we approach the earth, my impression
is that we shall become more and more light-footed, for we shall be
gradually getting back to the earth’s attraction. Somewhere between this
point and our planet there must be a spot where the attraction of both
bodies will be equal, and we can stay on the moon or drop off and return
to the earth in our balloon as we please.”
“What a curious idea,” I answered; “and yet, considering the strange
behavior of our sand bag, I don’t know but you are right. And I have
only one suggestion to make; that is, that we start earthward at once
and try the experiment. Let the investigations go. If there are any
inhabitants here they will never miss us, since we haven’t made their
acquaintance yet. Science or no science, I object to remaining any
longer than necessary in this uncertainty in regard to our future.
You know very well we couldn’t live long in this temperature and with
nothing for our lungs but what comes through these horrid machines. And
what good would come of our discoveries if we are never to get back to
the earth again? I profess to have as much courage left as the ordinary
mortal would have, but in the present circumstances I believe no one
would blame us for wanting to settle this question at once.”
“It would seem a trifle ridiculous,” said the doctor in reply to this
harangue, “for us to return to our planet without any further effort
to accomplish our errand. But I will not deny that I share something of
your feeling, and I will start with you right away, on condition that
you will return here if we find that I am correct in believing we can
leave the moon at our pleasure.”
“Agreed,” I cried, and we were soon on our way.
So far we had been exposed to the sun and were almost scorched by the
intensity of its rays. We had never experienced anything like such heat
and would not have supposed the human body could endure it. But now,
soon after we had started to find the place where the moon would let
go of us, the sun set and, with scarcely a minute’s warning, we were
plunged into darkness and cold. The darkness was relieved by the
exceedingly brilliant appearance of the stars, the sky fairly blazing
with them, but the cold was almost unendurable even for the few moments
in which we were exposed to it. We secured our car as speedily as
possible, climbed into it, and got a little warmth from our gas heater.
These extremes of temperature convinced us that no life such as we were
acquainted with could exist a great while on the moon.
We found we could make no progress at all by night. We could only shut
ourselves up and wait for the sun to come. In trying to keep warm we
would work our air-condensers harder than usual, and the water thus
produced we would freeze in little cakes, and have them to help mitigate
the burning heat a short time the next day.
The country through which we were traveling was made up of bold mountain
peaks and deep ravines. There was no sign of vegetation and not even
the soil for it to grow in, but everywhere only hard, metallic rock that
showed unmistakably the action of fire.
And so it was with the greatest difficulty that we made our way
earthward, although there was so little effort needed in walking. As I
pondered the doctor’s idea, it seemed to me more and more that he
must be right. We were certainly held to the moon where we were by
gravitation. It was just as true that near the surface of the earth its
superior attraction would draw all objects to itself. Accordingly, if
we kept on our way, why should we not in time come to a place where we
could throw ourselves once more under the influence of the old earth,
now becoming very dear to us?
Thinking chiefly of this subject and talking of it every day, we labored
on, and finally were wonderfully encouraged with the belief that we were
actually walking easier and everything was becoming lighter. Soon this
belief became a certainty, and, since leaping was no effort, we leaped
with joy and hope.
And now how shall I describe our sensations as we went bounding along,
hardly touching the ground, until we finally came to the place where it
was not necessary to touch the ground at all? Now we knew that by going
only a little further we should be able to mount our car and set sail
for the earth again. But with this knowledge we lost at once much of
our desire, and thought we would not hasten our departure. Here we were,
absolutely floating in the air, and it maybe believed that the feeling
was as delicious as it was unique. Using our hands as fins we could with
the slightest effort sail around at pleasure, resting in any position we
chose to take, truly a most luxurious experience.
“How shall we make our friends believe all this when we try to tell them
about it, Doctor?” said I.
“The best way to make them believe it,” he replied, “is to bring them
up here and let them try it for themselves. I propose to organize an
expedition on our return and bring up a large party. We could manage to
land somewhere in this vicinity, I think, instead of going up as far as
you and I did. What a place this would be for summer vacations! The moon
is a fixture now; it cannot get away. I am sure of that, for the law of
gravitation will never release it. So we may as well make what use of
it we can, and these delightful sensations will no doubt form the
most important discovery that we shall ever make on this dried-up and
worn-out satellite. You know many people are willing to put themselves
to much inconvenience and to undergo many hardships for the sake of a
change from the monotony of home life. If we can induce them to come
up here for a few weeks, and if they can endure this rather erratic
climate, they will find change enough to break up the monotony for one
year, I think.”
After enjoying this rare exercise to our content, we began preparing
for the night which was now coming on. The doctor had reminded me of my
promise to return to our former position on the moon, and we agreed to
set out the next day. Having fastened our car securely to the ground,
so that we might not drift off toward the earth, we entered it and made
ourselves as comfortable as possible.
Our resting place was near the center of what seemed to be an immense
crater, and some time before morning we were roused by a violent shaking
of the ground beneath us, which startled us beyond expression.
“What’s that?” I exclaimed.
“That feels very much like a moon-quake,” replied my companion.
I was terribly frightened, but resolved to follow the doctor’s example
and make light of what we could not help.
So I said:
“But I thought the lunar volcanoes were all dead ages ago. I hope we
haven’t camped in the crater of one that is likely to go off again.”
“My opinion is,” answered the doctor, “that there is still water inside
the moon which is gradually freezing. That operation would sometimes
crack the surface, and this has probably caused the quaking that we have
felt.”
While we were talking the wind began to blow, and soon, although it was
long before time for the sun to rise, we suddenly emerged from darkness
into bright sunlight. We sprang up instinctively to look about us and
try to discover what this could mean, when what was our consternation to
find ourselves adrift!
There, in full view of our wondering eyes, was the whole, round earth,
hanging in space, and where were we? Then we began to realize gradually
that the trembling of the ground was the grating of the moon against
the earth as it left its resting place, and the wind was caused by our
motion.
The novelty of the situation took away for a time the sense of fear, and
I exclaimed:
“Another scientific certainty gone to smash! I thought you said the moon
could never get away from the earth. What are we going to do now?”
“Well,” replied the doctor, “this is certainly something I never dreamed
of in my philosophy. I didn’t see how the moon could be drawn away from
the earth when once actually attached to it, but I suppose the sun
and planets all happen to be pulling in one direction just now and are
proving too much for the earth’s attraction. But what concerns us more
at this time is covered by your question, ‘What are we going to do now?’
And I will answer that I think we will stick to the moon for a while.
You can see for yourself that we are held here much more firmly than
when we were disporting ourselves in the air yesterday, and the earth
is now too far away for us to throw ourselves and our balloon within its
attraction.”
I knew by the feeling of increasing weight that what my companion said
must be true, but we could not then appreciate the dreadful nature
of our condition, so wrapped up were we in the grandeur of the object
before our eyes. To those who have never been on the moon in such
circumstances it will be impossible to adequately describe our feelings
as we gazed upon our late home and knew that we were fast drifting away
from it.
There the round globe hung, as I had often pictured it in my
imagination--oceans and continents, mountains, lakes, and rivers, all
spread out before us--the greatest object lesson ever seen by the eye
of man. As we studied it, recognizing feature after feature, lands
and waters that we knew by their familiar shape, the doctor broke our
reverie with these words, evidently with the endeavor to keep up my
spirits:
“That looks as natural as a map, doesn’t it? You have seen globes with
those divisions pictured on them, but there is the globe itself. If
our summer tourists could take in this experience also, it would make a
vacation worth having. Isn’t it grand? I see you are thinking about our
personal peril, but I think I know men who would take the risk and put
themselves in our place for the sake of this magnificent view.”
“If you know of any way to send for one of those friends, I wish you
would do so,” I replied. “I would willingly give him my place.”
It may be believed that we were all this time anxiously watching
the earth, and it did not lessen our anxiety to realize that we were
traveling very rapidly away from it. I had reached a point now where I
did not place much dependence upon the doctor’s science, but to get some
expression of his thoughts I said to him:
“Well, have you any opinion about our fate? Are we doomed to pass the
remainder of our lives circling around our dear old earth, looking upon
her face day by day but never to approach her again?”
“I think you have stated the case about as it is,” said he, “if,
indeed, this rate of speed does not carry us entirely beyond the earth’s
attraction, out into illimitable space.”
The thought of such an additional catastrophe silenced me, especially
as I could not deny its possibility. Life on the moon, if we could only
keep the earth in sight even, seemed almost endurable now, beside the
idea that we might be cast out to shift for ourselves, without a
tie save such as the universal law of gravitation might find for us
somewhere.
It must not be imagined that our conversation was carried on with ease
or that we were half enjoying our novel situation. We were simply trying
to make the best of a very bad matter. Not long after we had started the
wind had taken away the balloon part of our air ship, and now threatened
every moment to tear the car from its moorings and end our unhappy
career at once. Besides this impending catastrophe, it was with the
greatest difficulty that we could get air enough to fill our lungs, but
the cold was so intense whenever our side of the moon was turned away
from the sun that we needed the severe labor on our condensers to keep
us from freezing.
Meantime, our speed increasing every hour, the planet that had once been
our home was growing smaller before our eyes. At length we were flying
through space at such a rate that we could not suppress our fears that
the terrible suggestion of the doctor’s would be realized. We had both
made a mental calculation as to how large the earth ought to look from
the moon at its normal distance, and as it approached that size we could
not hide our anxiety from each other. Without a word from the doctor I
could see by his face that hope was fast leaving him, and as we were now
going more rapidly than ever I felt that we had nothing to do but accept
our fate.
In regard to such intensity of feeling at this stage of our experience,
it maybe objected that our condition was hopeless anyway, and it could
make no difference whether we remained within the earth’s influence
or not. But in spite of our desperate situation we had some sentiment
remaining. The earth was the only home we had ever known, and I am not
ashamed to say that we did not like to lose sight of it; especially
as there was not the slightest possibility that we should ever see it
again, unless, indeed, our moon should turn into a comet with eccentric
orbit, and so bring us back at some future day--a very unlikely
occurrence, as all will admit who know anything about moons and comets.
Our speed did not lessen but rather increased as we gradually broke away
from the earth’s attraction, and the dear old earth was fast becoming
a less significant object in our sky. If our situation was lonesome
before, it was now desolation itself.
“Doctor,” said I, when I could control my emotions enough to speak,
“where now?”
“Well,” he replied, with a grim attempt at a smile, “my opinion is not
worth much in our present strange circumstances, but it seems to me we
are on our way either to the sun or one of the large planets.”
I did not reply, and we both soon found it wise to expend no unnecessary
breath in talking. The ether was now so thin that it took oceans of it,
literally, to make enough air to keep us alive.
Our provisions were nearly exhausted, our strength was failing, and
I really believe we would not have lived many days had not something
occurred to divert our minds and to relieve some of our physical
discomforts.