I flew clean over Cavor's head and beheld a spiky confusion in a gully

spreading to meet my fall. I gave a yelp of alarm. I put out my hands and

straightened my legs.

I hit a huge fungoid bulk that burst all about me, scattering a mass of

orange spores in every direction, and covering me with orange powder. I

rolled over spluttering, and came to rest convulsed with breathless

laughter.

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

The First Men In The Moon