Here and there, curious mounds and hillocks, presenting weird profiles, gave the place the appearance of being a gathering-spot or "council-rock" for selenite creatures turned by some unearthly spell to stone; while everywhere lay, in tumultuous confusion, huge slabs and blocks with ridges, walls, and hummocks, suggesting to Rhoda's fanciful imagination vast lunar building-operations suddenly interrupted by a cataclysm of nature. At a distance of something over three hundred yards, an isolated pinnacle rose to a great height, one side dazzling in the sun's untempered light, the other shrouded in absolute darkness. Everywhere the plain was strewn with loose and scattered rocks and covered with a soft, white detritus. It was a ghostly spectacle--this lunar crust--like a crowded cemetery in white moonlight, thrusting ghastly fingers toward the sky, populous yet silent. Rhoda shivered. Had men lived there, she wondered? Had strange beasts ever roamed and wallowed among the selenite undergrowth where now these stark forms raised themselves? Had the sweet air of life ever eddied among these deathly rocks? Had birds once sung there, and insects buzzed and crawled? Would they, perhaps, find the imprint of some giant foot impressed upon the motionless dust? Her meditations were unceremoniously interrupted by Burke. "We've no time to lose," he announced briskly. "That uranium cylinder in the tractor must be nearly exhausted. It had never been operated before at its maximum power, and we overestimated its life--a serious error. There is an automatic signal that shows you when ninety per cent. of it is gone. See? Only _two_ per cent. left! I didn't like the idea of going outside to replace it, though, while we were driving through space. Hope our liquid-air suits will work. We'll be in a beastly fix if they won't. We ought to have tested them in a vacuum, but there were too many things to do." He crossed the chart-room, and, unlocking a cupboard at the farther end, dragged forth the three suits of vacuum armor. They were of simple design, made of heavy rubber cloth and surmounted by copper helmets resembling those worn by divers. Each wearer carried a cylindrical tank, supported upon the shoulders, for his supply of liquid air. "The first thing," continued Burke, "is to load up our knapsacks." Bennie and Atterbury assisted him in unclamping the cover of one of the large retainers that supplied the Ring with fresh air. In appearance, it was not unlike a gigantic milk-can, and caused Burke to remark, "I pity anyone who tried to steal _that_ milk!" Atterbury produced a metal ladle from the closet, while Bennie unfastened the tops of the cylinders, and Rhoda held her breath as she peered into the big retainer as the engineer thrust the ladle into its mysterious contents, which gave out dense clouds of white smoke. "Hot stuff!" he grinned. "Look out!" "Hot nothing!" replied Bennie. "It's over three hundred degrees below Fahrenheit!"