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The First Men In The Moon | H. G. [Herbert George] Wells | |
Lost Men in the Moon |
Page 2 of 3 |
Boom. ... Boom. ... Boom. It came from beneath our feet, a sound in the earth. We seemed to hear it with our feet as much as with our ears. Its dull resonance was muffled by distance, thick with the quality of intervening substance. No sound that I can imagine could have astonished us more, or have changed more completely the quality of things about us. For this sound, rich, slow, and deliberate, seemed to us as though it could be nothing but the striking of some gigantic buried clock. Boom. ... Boom. ... Boom. Sound suggestive of still cloisters, of sleepless nights in crowded cities, of vigils and the awaited hour, cf all that is orderly and methodical in life, booming out pregnant and mysterious in this fantastic desert! To the eye everything was unchanged: the desolation of bushes and cacti waving silently in the wind, stretched unbroken to the distant cliffs, the still dark sky was empty overhead, and the hot sun hung and burned. And through it all, a warning, a threat, throbbed this enigma of sound. Boom. ... Boom. ... Boom. ... We questioned one another in faint and faded voices. "A clock?" "Like a clock!" "What is it?" "What can it be?" "Count," was Cavor's belated suggestion, and at that word the striking ceased. The silence, the rhythmic disappointment of the silence, came as a fresh shock. For a moment one could doubt whether one had ever heard a sound. Or whether it might not still be going on. Had I indeed heard a sound? |
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The First Men In The Moon H. G. [Herbert George] Wells |
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