CHAPTER XXV
THE PETRIFIED CITY
For a time, after they had entered the cave, which was in the side of arugged mountain, the boys talked in low tones of their periloussituation. For that it was perilous they both knew. Had they been onthe earth, lost in some desolate part of it, away from civilization,their plight, would have been bad enough with what little food theypossessed.
But on the far-off moon--the dead moon, which contained no livingcreatures save themselves, as far as they could tell--with no form ofanimal life that might serve to keep them from starving, with only thescantiest of vegetation, their situation was most deplorable.
"And then there's another thing," said Mark, as if he was cataloguing alist of their troubles.
"What is it?" asked Jack. "I guess we have all the troubles that belongto us, and more, too."
"Well, what are we going to do when the life-torches give out, and wecan't breathe any more?" asked Mark dubiously.
"Well, I guess it'll be all up with us then, if we don't starve todeath in the meanwhile," answered Jack. "But I'm afraid we will get outof food before the torches are exhausted. They were freshly filledbefore 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 seenthat item in the Martian paper about the diamonds, we never would havecome here, and if I hadn't left that tool on the ground outside of theprojectile we wouldn't have had to come back after it, and we wouldn'thave 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 chumblaming his own actions, was ready to shoulder part of theresponsibility himself. "We all wanted to come to the moon," he wenton, "and, as for leaving the tool and forgetting it, I'm as much atfault as you are. Let's go to sleep, and maybe we'll feel better whenwe wake up."
It was a new role for Mark--to be cheerful in the face ofdifficulties--and Jack appreciated it. They stretched out on the hard,rocky floor of the cavern, taking care to fix their life-torches sothat the fumes would dispel the poisonous gases. Then the two ladsjoined Andy in slumberland.
Meanwhile, as may be imagined, those aboard the projectile were veryanxious about the fate of the two boys and the hunter. They could notunderstand what delayed them, and, though they guessed the real cause,after several hours had passed, there was nothing the two scientistscould do.
They could not move the projectile until it had been repaired, and thiscould not be done, without the tool--at least, they did not believe sothen. Nor did Mr. Henderson and the German think it would be safe tostart out in search of the wanderers.
"For," said Mr. Henderson, "if we went we would easily get lost amidthese peaks ourselves, and they are so much alike and in such numbersthat there is no distinguishing feature about them. We had better stayhere 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 sleptfor several hours in the cave, and the rest did them good. They awokein better spirits, and, after a frugal meal and a sip of thefast-dwindling water, they started off once more to locate theprojectile.
"I'm a regular amateur hunter to go and lose my compass," complainedold Andy. "I ought to have it fastened to me, like a baby does therattle-box. I ought to kick myself," and he accepted all the blame fortheir misadventure. But the boys would not suffer him to thus accusehimself, and they insisted that they would shortly be with the twoprofessors and Washington in the _Annihilator_ once more.
"Well, it can't come any too soon," said Jack, "for I am beginning tofeel 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, climbingtowering peaks, and descending into deep valleys. At times they skirtedthe lips of craters, to look shudderingly into the depths of which madethem dizzy, for the bottoms were lost to sight in the black gloom thatenshrouded the yawning holes.
Their food was getting less and less, and what there was of it was mostunpalatable, for the bread was stale and dry, though the meat keptperfectly in that freezing temperature. How they longed for a hot cupof coffee, such as Washington used to make! and how they would haveeven exchanged their chance of filling their pockets with the moondiamonds 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 greatcrater, Mark became dizzy, and would have fallen had not Jack caughthim. Mark had forgotten, for the moment, and had lowered hislife-torch, so that his mouth and nose were not enclosed in the film ofvapor 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 everfind 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 wayof 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 aboutlike a boy.
"Matter? Why, the matter is that I'm a double-barrelled dunce," was theanswer. "Look here; do you see that?" and he held up his rifle.
"Sure," replied Jack, wondering if their sufferings and worry had madethe 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 Ihaven't shot it once. You wanted a signal to make the folks in theprojectile hear us. Well, here it is I I guess they can hear this, andwhen they do they can come and get us, for we don't seem able to reachthem. I'll just fire some signal shots."
"That's the stuff!" cried Jack, and Andy proceeded to discharge hisrifle.
The report the gun made in that quiet place was tremendous, and theeffect was curious, for, there being no air in the ordinary acceptanceof the word, there was no echo. It was as if one had hit two shinglestogether. Merely a loud, sharp sound, and then an utter silence, thevibrations being swallowed up instantly.
"Do you think they can hear that?" asked Andy.
"It sounds loud enough," answered Jack. "Shoot some more," which theold hunter did. They wandered on still farther, firing at intervals allthat day, but there came no answering report or calls to direct them tothe projectile. They climbed once more to the tops of towering peaks,but there they found their range of vision limited by peaks stillhigher, while there were great valleys, in one of which, whether nearor 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 farthey had wandered. They had sought out lonely caves to sleep in whenthey were so weary they could go no farther, and they had sat about onbleak rocks shivering, and had eaten their scanty meals--shiveringbecause in spite of their fur garments they were cold, as they did noteat enough to keep their blood properly circulating. They could notwhen they did not have the food to eat!
Andy used up all but a few of his cartridges in firing signals, but tono purpose. Their water was all but gone, and of their food only enoughremained for a day longer, though their life-torches still gave forthplenty of vapor.
"Well, what's to be done?" asked Jack, as they sat about, lookinghelplessly 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 greatmountain peaks that towered above their heads on either side, thousandsof feet up, making a sort of natural gateway, that Jack, who was in thelead, cried out in a
stonishment at the sight that met his gaze when hehad passed the pinnacles.
"Look!" he shouted, pointing forward.
What he indicated was a great crater--larger and deeper than any theyhad yet met with. It seemed a mile across, and, if gloom and darknesswere any indications, it was a hundred miles deep.
But it was not the size of the great hole in the ground, not itsfearful gloom, that attracted their attention. What did was a greatnatural or artificial bridge of stone that was thrown across the middleof it from edge to edge. A bridge of stone that spanned the abyss; aroadway, fifty feet wide, which reached into some unknown land,connecting it with the desolate country in which our friends had beenwandering.
"A bridge of stone across the cavern," said Jack, "but see. Here is ahouse of stone. This was the guard-house, I'll wager--the guardhouse atthe entrance to some city, and that bridge is the means by which theinhabitants entered and left. Maybe we are at the edge of the inhabitedpart of the moon!"
His words thrilled them. They pressed forward to the beginning of thebridge across the crater. They looked into the stone hut. Clearly ithad been made by hands, for it was composed of blocks of stone, neatlyfitted 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 atable, which was also of rock, a man, evidently a soldier, or rather hehad been, for he was nothing but stone now, like the hut in which hedwelt.
The wanderers looked at each other with fear on their faces. Whatdreadful mystery were they about to penetrate? "Let's cross thebridge," suggested Jack, in a low voice. "Maybe this marks the end ofdesolation. 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 takecare of us, beyond there," and Jack pointed across the bridge of stone.
There was nothing to keep them where they were--in the land ofdesolation. They could not live much longer there, with no food andwater. To pass on over the crater seemed the only thing to do.
"Come ahead," called Jack boldly. They followed him. They kept in themiddle of the road, for to approach the edge, where there was a sheerdescent of so many feet that it made them dizzy to think of it, filledthem with terror. On they hurried until, in a short time, they hadcrossed the great chasm.
The road over the crater came to an end between two peaks, similar tothose at the beginning. Jack was the first to pass them, and as heemerged 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 acity. A great city, with wonderful buildings, with wide streets welllaid out--a city in which figures of many men and women could beseen--little children too! A fair city, teeming with life, it seemed!
But then, as they looked again, struck by the curious quiet thatprevailed, they knew that they were gazing down on a city of thedead--a city where the inhabitants had been turned to stone, even ashad the soldier on guard in his lonely hut.
They had come upon a petrified city of the moon!