It was uncanny, and for a moment they hesitated on the edge of the
city, which lay in a sort of cup-like valley, surrounded on all sides
by towering peaks of the moon mountains. The bridge over which they had
come afforded the only entrance to the city, and in times of war
(provided the inhabitants of the moon ever fought) the passage must
have been well guarded.
It was evidently a time of peace when the calamity that turned the
inhabitants to stone came upon them, for only one soldier was in the
guard hut--doubtless being there merely to give an alarm, or possibly
to keep out undesirable strangers.
"Well, are we going to stand here all day?" asked Jack of his
companions, when they had contemplated the silent city for five minutes
longer.
"I say, let's go down there and see what we can find. I'm getting
hungry."
"There'll be nothing there to eat," declared Mark. "If there ever was
anything, it's now stone. Think of a loaf of bread like a brick, and a
chunk of meat like some great rock!"
"Let's go down, anyhow," added Andy, and they advanced.
As they got down into the streets, the weird effect came over them more
strongly. It was as if they had suddenly entered some large town, and
at their advent every living person had been turned into an image.
"Wonderful, wonderful!" murmured Jack.
"I've read of the uncovering of the ancient buried cities, and how they
found women in the kitchen baking bread, and men at their work, but
this goes ahead of that, for here the people are not dust--they are
statues!"
"It certainly is wonderful," agreed Mark. "I only wish the two
professors could see this. They could write several books about it.
This proves that the moon was once inhabited, though it is dead now.
The projectile should have come to this part of the moon."
"Maybe they'll bring it here, when we get back and tell them what we've
seen," suggested Jack.
"Yes, if we ever do get back," went on his chum, with a return of his
gloomy thoughts.
The strangeness of the scenes all about them can scarcely be imagined.
Think of looking at a city street teeming with life, men and women
hurrying here and there, dogs running about, children at their play,
and then suddenly seeing that same street become as dead as some
mountain, with the people represented as stones on that same mountain,
and you can get some idea of what our friends looked upon.
Here was a woman, looking in a store window, probably at some bargains,
though even the very window and store itself was now stone, and the
woman was like a block of marble. Near her was a little child, also
turned to stone, and there were a number of men, standing together on a
street corner as if they had been talking politics when the calamity
overtook them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account