The welkin was wholly overcast with dense, murky vapours, which totally hid the sun, and the air was excessively hot, moist, and sultry as before a thunderstorm—an unusual phenomenon in Womla. Black boulders and crags, speckled with lichens, and carpeted with coarse herbage, shut out the prospect on every side but one, where the edge of the platform on which the car was resting ran along the sky. I saw it all now. Gazen and Carmichael had made a journey to the extreme verge of the country; to the very summit of the precipice which surrounded the Crater Land.
Picking my steps over the rough rocks like one who treads on air, I hastened to the brink of the platform. If the car were on the further side of the summit I should be able to see the wide ocean, but if, as I fondly hoped, it were on the hither side, I should enjoy a far-off glimpse of the city and its holy island, which had become a heaven to me. How different was the scene which met my view!
I was looking away over a vast plain towards a distant range of volcanic mountains. A broad river wound through the midst between isolated volcanoes, curling with smoke, and thick forests of a sable hue, or expanded into marshy lakes half lost in brakes of grisly reeds, on the margin of which living monsters were plashing in the mud, or soaring into the air on dusky pinions.
My first shock of surprise passed into a fearful admiration for the savage and gloomy grandeur of the primeval landscape; but as that feeling wore away the old irritation against my fellow-travellers came back. From all I had heard or seen there was no such place as this in Womla, and as it dawned upon me that they had migrated to some other island, or perhaps continent in Venus, I forgot my good resolution, and shouted indignantly,
"Gazen, Gazen! Hallo there! Hallo!"
There was no response, and the dead silence that swallowed up my voice was awful. Had anything happened to my companions, and was I left alone in this appalling solitude? Was I in my right senses, or was I not? I shouted again at the very pitch of my voice, and this time an answering cry came to my relief. On turning in the direction from which it proceeded, I observed Professor Gazen coming slowly towards me, round a mass of turretted rocks.
"What is the meaning of all this?" I demanded petulantly, as he came near, gingerly stepping from stone to stone.
He made no reply, but seemed to be meditating what he would say.
"A nice trick you've played me! Wherever have we got to?"
"Mercury," replied Gazen coolly.