THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON
air will be blowing through this planet sponge from the dark side hither. On this side, at any rate, the air will be expanding and flowing out of the moon caverns into the crater. . . . Very well, there's a draught here."
"So there is."
"And that means that this is not a dead end; somewhere behind us this cleft goes on and up. The draught is blowing up, and that is the way we have to go. If we try to get up any sort of chimney or gully there is, we shall not only get out of these passages where they are hunting for us———"
"But suppose the gully is too narrow."
"We'll come down again."
"Ssh!" I said, suddenly; "what's that?"
We listened. At first it was an indistinct murmur, and then one picked out the clang of a gong. "They must think we are mooncalves," said I, "to be frightened at that."
"They're coming along that passage," said Cavor. "They must be."
"They'll not think of the cleft. They'll go past."
I listened again for a space. "This time," I whispered, "they're likely to have some sort of weapon."
Then suddenly I sprang to my feet. "Good heavens, Cavor!" I cried. "But they will. They'll see the fungi I have been pitching down. They'll———"
I didn't finish my sentence. I turned about and made a leap over the fungus-tops towards the upper end of the cavity. I saw that the space turned upwards and became a draughty cleft again, ascending
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