We made a few gargantuan strides, leapt three or four times more, and sat down at last in a lichenous hollow. Our lungs were painful. We sat holding our sides and recovering our breath, looking appreciation at one another. Cavor panted something about “amazing sensations.” And then came a thought into my head. For the moment it did not seem a particularly appalling thought, simply a natural question arising out of the situation.
“By the way,” I said, “where exactly is the sphere?”
Cavor looked at me. “Eh?”
The full meaning of what we were saying struck me sharply.
“Cavor!” I cried, laying a hand on his arm, “where is the sphere?”
X
LOST MEN IN THE MOON
His face caught something of my dismay. He stood up and stared about him at the scrub that fenced us in and rose about us, straining upward in a passion of growth. He put a dubious hand to his lips. He spoke with a sudden lack of assurance. “I think,” he said slowly, “we left it ... somewhere ... about there.”