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The First Men In The Moon | H. G. [Herbert George] Wells | |
Prospecting Begins |
Page 5 of 6 |
I became aware of Cavor's little round face peering over a bristling hedge. He shouted some faded inquiry. "Eh?" I tried to shout, but could not do so for want of breath. He made his way towards me, coming gingerly among the bushes. "We've got to be careful," he said. "This moon has no discipline. She'll let us smash ourselves." He helped me to my feet. "You exerted yourself too much," he said, dabbing at the yellow stuff with his hand to remove it from my garments. I stood passive and panting, allowing him to beat off the jelly from my knees and elbows and lecture me upon my misfortunes. " We don't quite allow for the gravitation. Our muscles are scarcely educated yet. We must practise a little, when you have got your breath." I pulled two or three little thorns out of my hand, and sat for a time on a boulder of rock. My muscles were quivering, and I had that feeling of personal disillusionment that comes at the first fall to the learner of cycling on earth. It suddenly occurred to Cavor that the cold air in the gully, after the brightness of the sun, might give me a fever. So we clambered back into the sunlight. We found that beyond a few abrasions I had received no serious injuries from my tumble, and at Cavor's suggestion we were presently looking round for some safe and easy landing-place for my next leap. We chose a rocky slab some ten yards off, separated from us by a little thicket of olive-green spikes. |
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The First Men In The Moon H. G. [Herbert George] Wells |
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