by James Cowan
CHAPTER IV.
AND ONE WOMAN.
At the time we tied our car to the rocks, to prevent us from driftingaway from the earth, we did not anticipate that the fastenings wouldreceive any very severe strain, but now the velocity of the wind wassuch that there was great danger of our breaking away. The moon was nota very hospitable place, to be sure, as we had thus far found it, butstill we preferred it to the alternative of flying off into space in ourglass car and becoming a new species of meteor.
And yet it seemed to be courting instant death to attempt to leave thecar and seek for other shelter. We could not decide which course totake. Both were so full of peril that there seemed to be no possiblesafety in either.
As I review our situation now, and think of us spinning along on thatdefunct world we knew not whither, with no ray of light to illumine thedarkness of our future or show us the least chance of escape from ourdesperate plight, it is astonishing to me that we did not give up allhope and lie down and die at once. It only shows what the human bodycan endure and of what stuff our minds are made. I think it would not bemaking a rash statement to say that no man ever found himself in a worsesituation and survived.
But help was nearer than we supposed. From what we had seen of themoon we could not have imagined a more unexpected thing than thatwhich happened to us then. Suddenly, above the roar of the wind and thethumping of our car on the rocks, even above the tumult of our spirits,there came to us the strains of more than earthly music. Whether it wasfrom voice or instrument we could not tell, and in its sweetness andpower it was absolutely indescribable. At first we did not try todiscover its source but were content to sit and quietly enjoy it, as itfell gently upon us, pervading our whole being and so filling us withcourage and strength that we seemed to be transformed into new men.
Then, wondering if we could discover from whence the notes came, weturned and looked about us, when there was revealed to us a vision ofbeauty which filled and satisfied the sense of sight as completely asour ears had been enchanted with the angelic music.
Not far from our car, with her flowing garments nearly torn from her inthe fierceness of the gale, was a young girl, stretching out her handsimploringly toward us and pouring forth her voice in that exquisitesong. We soon discovered it was not for herself that she was anxious,but for us; for when she observed that she had attracted our attentionshe smiled and turned to go back the way she had come, beckoning uswith hand and eye to follow her, and still singing her sweet butunintelligible words. Perhaps I flattered myself, but I thought shewas looking at me more than at my companion, and I began with greateagerness to unfasten the door of the car.
"Wait!" cried the doctor. "Where are you going?"
I could not stop an instant, but answered with feeling:
"Going? I am going wherever she is going. I'll follow her to the end ofthe moon if necessary, though the surface be everywhere as bleak as ourown north pole."
"Well," he replied, "if it is such a desperate case as that, I'll haveto go along to take care of you."
I found that when such a woman beckons and such a voice calls there isbut one thing to do. The sirens were not to be mentioned in comparison.Twenty thousand hurricanes could not have prevented me from attemptingto follow where she led as long as I had breath.
We reached the ground in safety, and with the greatest difficulty madeour way in the footsteps of our guide, leaving all our possessionsbehind us, to the doctor's murmured regret. And now the words ofthe singer seemed to take on a joyous meaning, and we could almostdistinguish her invitation to follow her to a place where the wind didnot blow and where our present troubles would be over. She kept well inthe lead but walked only as fast as our strength would allow, lookingback constantly to encourage us with her smile and ravishing one heartat least with the melody of her song.
Presently we came to the edge of an immense crater, hundreds of feetdeep and as empty and cold as all the others we had seen on the moon.Instead of going around this, our leader chose a narrow ravine and tookus down the steep side to the bottom of the crater. We supposed she didthis just to give us protection from the wind, and we were very muchsheltered, but she did not stop here. Entering one of the many fissuresin the rocks, she led us into a narrow passage whose floor descendedso rapidly and whose solid roof shut out the light so quickly that inordinary circumstances we would have hesitated about proceeding.But, although it was soon absolutely dark, we kept on, guided by thatmarvelous voice, now our sole inspiration.
"Come, come, fear no harm," it seemed to say, and we were content tofollow blindly, even the doctor no longer objecting.
"POURING FORTH HER VOICE IN THAT EXQUISITE SONG."]
How many hours we proceeded in this way, going down, down, all thetime, toward the center of the globe, I have no means of telling; but Idistinctly remember that we began, after a time, to find, to our greatjoy, that the air was becoming denser and we could breathe quite freely.This gave us needed strength and justified the faith with which ourmysterious deliverer had filled us.
At length we were gladdened by a glimmer of light ahead of us, whichincreased until our path was all illumined with a beautiful soft haze.Soon the way broadened and grew still brighter, and then we were ledforth into an open street, which seemed to be part of a small village.There were but few houses, and even these, although they showed signsof a former grandeur, were sadly in need of care. Not a creature of anykind was stirring, and in our hasty review the whole place looked asif it might have been deserted by its inhabitants for a hundred years.There was one spot, however, so retired as to be entirely hidden fromour view at first, which had anything but a deserted appearance. Thehouse was small, but it was a perfect bower of beauty, half-concealedwith a mass of flowers and vines. Here our journey ended, for our guideled us to the door and, entering, turned and invited us to follow her.
The doctor and I were tired enough to accept with eagerness herhospitality, and soon we were all seated in a pleasant room, which wasfilled with the evidences of a refined taste. Now we had a much betteropportunity to observe the resplendent beauty of our new friend, and wefound, also, that her manners were as captivating as her other personalqualities. At intervals, all through our long walk, her song had ceasedand we expected she would make some attempt to speak to us; but beingdisappointed in this, it struck me after we had entered the house thatI ought to end the embarrassment by addressing her. The circumstancesof our meeting were peculiar, to say the least, and, of all the thousandthings I might have appropriately said, nothing could have been moremeaningless or have better shown the vacant condition of my mind thanthe words I chose.
"It's a fine day," I said, looking square in her eyes and trying tospeak pleasantly.
In answer she gave me a smile which almost deprived me of what littlewit remained, and at the same time emitted one exquisite note.
I was now at the end of my resources. I had always thought I could talkon ordinary topics as well as the average man, but in the presence ofthis girl, with everything in the world unsaid, I could not think of oneword to say. The doctor soon saw my predicament and hastened toassist me, and the remark which he selected shows again his wonderfulself-possession in the midst of overwhelming difficulties. He waved hishand gently toward me to attract her attention and said:
"My friend and I are from the United States and have come to make you avisit. This is your home, I suppose, away down here in the middle of themoon? It is very kind of you to bring us here. I hope you will excuse mefor my rudeness, but what time do you have supper?"
This time three little notes of the same quality as before and thena little trill, and the whole accompanied by a smile so sweet that Isuddenly began to wish the doctor had been blown off the top of themoon. It was a wicked thought and I put it away from me as quicklyas possible, being assisted by the recollection that the doctor had acharming wife already, who was no doubt thinking of him at this verymoment.
We were not making much progress in opening conversation,
but ourcharming hostess seemed to understand either the doctor's words or hislooks, for, stepping into another room, she called us presently to sitdown to a table well supplied with plain but substantial food. She soonmade us feel quite at home, just by her easy and agreeable ways. We didnot once hear her voice in ordinary speech, and at length we began tosuspect, what we afterward learned to be true, that she talked as thebirds talk, only in song. Whether she used her language or ours shewould always sing or chant her words, and every expression was perfectin rhythm and melody.
The doctor and I hesitated to say much to each other, out of deferenceto the feelings of this fair lunarian, but he took occasion to remark tome quietly that as she could not tell us her name just yet he proposedto call her Mona [Footnote: _Mona_ is old Saxon for _moon_.] for thepresent. I assented easily, as it made little difference to me what wecalled her, if she would only remain with us.
It happened that the doctor, who knew everything, was well acquaintedwith dactylology and the latest sign language, used in the instructionof deaf mutes, and as it seemed likely that our stay in our presentabode might be a prolonged one, he told me he would try to teach Mona toconverse with us. I could not object, although I secretly wished I couldhave taken the place of instructor. But it soon occurred to me that Imust be a fellow pupil, if we were all to talk in that way; and so,with this bond of sympathy established between us, Mona and I began ourlessons.
During the closing years of the century great progress had been made, onthe earth, in the method of talking by arbitrary signs and motions.The movements of the body and limbs and the great variety of facialexpressions were all so well adapted to the ideas to be represented thatit was comparatively easy for an intelligent person to learn to makeknown many of his thoughts. As our studies progressed day after dayit began to dawn on me that Mona, in spite of the disadvantage of notknowing our spoken language, was learning faster than I was. I wassomewhat chagrined at this at first, but it finally turned out to myadvantage, for the doctor announced one day that Mona had acquired allhe knew and could thenceforth teach me if I pleased. Here was a bondof sympathy that I had not looked for, but I was glad enough to availmyself of it, and delighted to find that Mona was also pleased withthe plan. With her for a teacher it did not take me long to finish.Her graceful movements made poetry of the language, and the web she wasweaving around my heart was strengthened every hour.
As Mona gradually learned to express herself to our comprehension webegan to ask her questions about herself and her history. The doctor,being less under the spell of her charms than I was, showed a greatercuriosity, and one of the first things he asked was:
"When do you expect the other members of your family home?"
Mona was at first puzzled, but saw his meaning as soon as the motionswere repeated, and answered with a few simple signs:
"I have no friends to come home. I am alone."
The expression we put into our faces told her of our sorrow and sympathybetter than any words, and the doctor continued:
"But these other houses! Surely they are not all empty?"
"Yes," she replied, "their inmates are all gone. I am the onlyinhabitant left."
And then she told us from time to time that there were no other villagesanywhere in the moon and that she was absolutely the last of her race.Our method of conversation was not free enough to allow her to tell ushow she had discovered the truth of this astounding information, andthere were a thousand other questions for whose answers we were obligedto wait, but not forever.
The doctor and I talked freely to each other now, and playfully saida great many things to Mona, who, though she did not understand them,laughed with us and gave us much pleasure with her easy, unembarrassedmanner and piquant ways. And she not only jabbered away with hands andface in the manner we had taught her, but she did not cease also to makelife bright for us by repaying us in our own coin and talking to us inher natural, delicious way. With such music in the house life could notbe dull.
My infatuation increased as the days went by, and I began to seek everypossible occasion to be alone with Mona. I often encouraged the doctorto go out and learn what he could of our surroundings, excusing myselffrom bearing him company on the ground that I did not think it safe toleave Mona alone. Or if Mona wanted to go out I would suggest to thedoctor that I needed the exercise also, and that he really ought tobe writing down our experiences while he had leisure, as there was notelling how soon the moon would land us somewhere.
I did not then know whether the doctor saw through my designs or not.I thought not, for I did not suppose he was ever so deeply in love asI was. But if he did he was good enough to take my little hints and saynothing.
On these occasions, whether Mona and I remained in the house or walkedabroad, I wasted no time in asking her more questions about the moon orsuch trivial matters, but spent all my efforts in trying to establishcloser personal relations between us. While she was exceedingly pleasantand agreeable, she did not seem to understand my feeling exactly,although I tried in every way to show her my heart. She was notcoquettish, but perfectly unaffected, and simply did not realize mymeaning. For once the sign language did not prove adequate; and so, asmy feelings would not be controlled, I was fain to resort to my naturaltongue, and poured forth my love to my own satisfaction if not to hercomprehension. I did not stint the words, astonishing myself at thefullness of my vocabulary, and hoping that the fervor of my manner andthe passion exhibited in my voice would make the right impression on mycompanion.
Day after day, as opportunity offered, I returned to the same theme.Mona was sympathetic in her own charming way, but apparently notaffected in the manner I was looking for. And still, "I love you, I loveyou," was repeated in her ears a thousand times. The fact that she didnot understand the words made me all the more voluble, and I lavished myaffectionate terms upon her without restraint.
One day, after this had been going on for some time, the doctor came infrom a walk and found us together as usual. He had a rare blossom inhis hand, and stepping to Mona's side he offered it to her with somegallantry. She accepted it with a beaming countenance which set myheart to thumping, and then she burst forth in a strain so sweet thatit thrilled my whole being and roused in me again that jealous fear thatMona was learning to care more for the doctor than for me. But howshall I describe my emotions when she suddenly blended syllables ofour language with the accents of her song, and, still looking into thedoctor's eyes, closed her entrancing melody with the burning words, "Ilove you"?
I wonder how other men have borne such a shock as that. It seemed to methat by simply living during the next few minutes I was proving myselfstronger than others. And I was able to think, too. It occurred to methat perhaps Mona was merely a parrot, repeating, with no perception oftheir meaning, words which she had so often heard from me. But this ideapassed swiftly away when I remembered the warmth of her expression andthe ardor of her manner, both of which, alas, she had also learned fromme.
As I recovered somewhat from the effects of the blow I found Mona's eyeswere fixed on me, and she looked so innocent, so entirely unconsciousof wrong, that if I had any anger in my heart it melted away and leftme more her slave than ever. There was something in her behavior whichI could not comprehend, and it was evident that she had not yet acquiredany particular fondness for me, but these were not sufficient reasonsto make me cease to care for her. My love was too strong to give her up,even after I had just heard her declare, in such a passionate way, herlove for another. These thoughts passed through my mind as she beamedupon me in her radiant beauty, smiling as sweetly as ever, as if toencourage me still to live and hope.
But how did the doctor receive this remarkable love-song? Like thephilosopher he was. Being astonished beyond measure at what he hadheard, he sat and pondered the subject for some minutes. What chieflyinterested him was not the personal element in Mona's words, which wasso vital a point to me, but the fact that she could make use of anywords of our language. The possibilities which
this fact opened up tohim were of the greatest moment. If Mona could learn to talk freelyshe would be able to give us much information that would be of greatscientific value. After he had pursued these thoughts a while itsuddenly struck him that the expression she had used was a singular oneto begin with, and he turned to me and laughingly said:
"You must have taught her those words. I did not."
"I shall have to acknowledge it," I replied, "but I assure you I did notinfluence her to make such use of them."
"No, I suppose not; but that question is of small account beside theknowledge that Mona has begun to learn our speech. Now let us give allour attention to her instruction."
We did so from that hour, the doctor from high motives of philosophy andphilanthropy, while I was actuated by more selfish reasons. AlthoughI had learned that I had been too hasty in my attempt to gain Mona'saffections I did not despair of success. I should have to take time andapproach the citadel of her untutored heart with more caution. In thepleasant task of teaching her the intricacies of the English languageI anticipated many delightful opportunities of leading her into theElysian fields of romance. If she could learn to understand fully myintense feeling for her I had no doubt she would return my passion. Withsuch a hopeful spirit does the love god inspire his happy victims.
In order to assist in the realization of these rosy fore-thoughts, Isuggested to the doctor that each of us should take his turn in Mona'sinstruction, so as to make it as easy and informal for her as possible.He had no objections to make, and we began a task which proved to bemuch simpler than we had imagined. Mona had heard us talk so muchthat she had half-learned a great many words and expressions, and herremarkable quickness of intellect helped her to pick up their meaningrapidly as soon as we gave her systematic aid. Hence it was not longbefore she began to converse with considerable freedom.
From the first the doctor and I had been curious to know if shewould give up the musical tone and simply talk as we did, and we werepleasantly surprised to find that her song was not interrupted by theform of words she used. Whatever the phrase she wanted to employ sheturned it into verse on the instant and chanted it forth in perfectmelody. So spontaneous was every expression that her very thoughtsseemed to be framed in harmony. Her voice was not obtrusive normonotonous and generally not loud, but was always well adapted to thesense of what she was singing. The tones mostly used in conversationwere low and sweet, like rippling water, but these were constantlyvaried by the introduction of notes of greater power and range.
To have such use made of our rugged speech was a revelation to us, andwords, as we employ them, are inadequate to express our enjoyment ofMona's song, when to its former beauty was added the clear enunciationof language that we could understand.
It was through this rare medium that the doctor and I learned, from dayto day, something of the history of Mona's race. The surface of the moonhad once been peopled, as we supposed, but as the day of decay and deathapproached the outside of the globe became too inhospitable to longersupport life. The interior had cooled and contracted, and as the solidcrust was rigid enough to keep its place, great, sublunar caverns hadbeen formed. Into these rushed the water and the atmosphere, accompaniedby the few remaining inhabitants. The conditions were not favorable, insuch places, to the continuation of the race, although their advancedknowledge in every direction prevented them from melting away suddenly.
Settlements had been formed in many different sections of the moon,and interior communication was established between them. As the peoplegradually passed away, those who remained naturally drew nearer togetheruntil at last the remnant of the population of the globe were allgathered in the little village where we were now living. Here theprocess still went on, and year after year saw a constantly diminishingnumber. A few years before our arrival Mona's last companion, a girlof her own age, had died, and ever since then this tuneful creature,possessed of the most sunny disposition we had ever known, had livedalone, with the knowledge that there was not another living being in allthe moon.
"So you see," she sang, "I was as glad to find you as you were to hearme."
"But," asked the doctor, "how did you know we were out there, nearlyready to be blown off into space?"
"I didn't know it till I saw you. I went out to try to discover whatwas the matter with my old world. For some time I had had the queerestsensations imaginable. I was accustomed to being out of doors a greatdeal, and I first began to notice that I could walk and run more easilythan before. I was becoming rather sprightly for one who was so soonto pass off this deserted stage. Then everything I took up seemed tobe growing marvelously light, and I began to have a feeling that I musthold on to all my movable possessions, to keep them from getting away.After this unaccountable state of things had existed for a while, therecame, one day, a terrible shock, which threatened to crack the moon'sskull and rattle its fragments down upon my head. This was followed atintervals by similar or lighter shocks, and it was all so exceedinglyunusual that I became very curious to know what was happening. Then allwas quiet for many days, but when at length the quakings began again mynatural instinct of self-preservation told me I ought not to take therisk of another such siege, and so I started to make my way to thesurface by a well-known path. The trouble did not continue as I feared,but I kept on, fortunately for you as well as for myself, and foundthe outside world too uncomfortable a place for any of us to remain inlonger than necessary."
This halting prose represents the meaning of what Mona said, but itgives a feeble idea of the beauty of her poetic expressions, chanted inmelodious phrase and in ever-changing, ever-joyous tune.
We replied by explaining to her what had happened to her disjointedworld, expressing our gratitude also for her kindness in bringing us toher sheltered home.