At one spot in the rocks we found intense heat; here we built a vast low building to be warmed from the perpetual heat of the star’s volcanic fire. Time passed on.
As we receded from the sun our fears became greater.
Again we came where we could see our Earth, almost a moon. Then we departed into colder, darker space.
Snow fell constantly until the forest disappeared under a white bank. The volcanoes were cloaked almost to their tops. The surface of the land was changed.
We had wood for fifty years in our cellars.
The smoke from the islands of the sea told us that the life of the star was still existing.
Day became twilight. On the snow it was inexpressibly gloomy. The sky grew black; we were entering a night of years.
About this time it became so cold that it was unsafe to go into the open air to look. We could only venture out in a hollow case of skins, with lamps about us for warmth.
We made all our investigations through triple plates of glass.
Then the bird people fell into a sleep from which it was impossible to wake them. We put them into a great hall by dozens, where they lay motionless, lifeless to all appearance.