We crossed the desert and were delighted to observe its gradual surrender to the encroaching features of a pleasanter land, a hill country sloping away into painted domes; not a land of heavy rainfall nor deeply forested. Its undulating skyline presented rounded and densely shrubby ground which to our eyes seemed luminous with a pink haze. The flanks of these hills were clothed in a coarse grass unevenly distributed, and even absent from bare spaces of the limestone rock, where a gray half succulent moss flourished. We noted too with some astonishment that these aspects of the hills facing us seemed in shadow, contrasting effectively with the singular pinkish aureole along their high outlines.

Goritz discovered with our glass the presence of moving or browsing groups of animals and a moment later exclaimed:

“They’re deer, small deer. No worry now about the commissariat.”

“You see,” murmured the Professor, “the sedimentary rocks here prove that at some time this boreal basin has been invaded by the sea, a former deeper cavity has been filled up by these strata of limestone, slate, sandstone and marl. The molluscan remains, such as I have picked up, whether in the Saurian Sea area, in the Canon of Promise, or on these moors, are generically similar to those of the cretaceous, tertiary, and paleozoic rocks of Europe or America. About that there can be no doubt,” and he approvingly exhibited the small collection he retained from his examination. “The outermost rocks of the Krocker Land Rim are the earliest crystallines and eruptives. Their solidification belongs to the very first primary conditions, and I think there can be no doubt that we can say that this stupendous cavity, continental in extent, either represents that physical polar pitting I alluded to when we discussed this expedition in Norway, made when the Earth was assuming its spheroidal shape and was a mass of swiftly revolving mobile magma, or—” the Professor’s succeeding statement impressed him so solemnly, that his administrative and reportorial manner became almost gloomy in its earnestness. We watched him with dilated eyes—“or—that it represents the wound, cicatrix, and HOLE from which was ejected the earth’s satellite—the MOON.”

Comment was in order, but we had become rather plastic under the Professor’s instructions, or, shall I say, gelatinized, and incapable of a natural remonstrance against his dictations. But Goritz demurred. Hopkins and I listened with admiration.

“Professor, the moon came out of the side of the earth, centrifugally separated at the equator by fastest motion, surely not out of the pole. Darwin has suggested, you know, that the Pacific Ocean—”

“True, Antoine. True, true. I know all of George Darwin’s speculations. True, but suppose the axis of the earth’s rotation has changed; suppose this very area here at 85° north latitude had formerly been equatorial in position. That is a view of commendable authority. It has been urged to explain the Ice Age, though I admit, Goritz, it has not, today, the most respectable authorization.

Mais, passons.” This theoretical retreat and deflection of the Professor before Goritz’s criticism sensibly flattered my friend. “You see gentlemen, that these startling surfaces before us seem, as you have noticed, to be in shadow. I think that throws some light on the character of the singular continuous illumination of this region. Up to this point we have generally been descending, since we left the vapor shroud of the Perpetual Nimbus; we have been climbing down the walls of a bowl whose central sun is of sufficient intensity to illuminate it throughout its extent, but, having an inconsiderable volume or size as compared with the size of the bowl itself, and also—mark me—a fixed position, can only throw shadows when intervening objects occur, as a lamp in the middle of a room illuminates the whole room, but throws shadows toward the walls of the room, where there are obstructions. But the higher the position of the lamp in the room, with reference to the floor, the shorter the shadows. Here is an exact parallel, and I take it that as the shadow of these hills, which may be three thousand feet high, hardly extends into the plain, the fixed, subsidiary SUN we are approaching may be towards the limits of our atmosphere, or say twenty-five miles over the mean level of the earth.”

We grasped this quickly enough, and the image remained, as you will see in the sequel, substantially correct, though greatly corrected as to altitude.

The deer were easily trapped; they hardly noticed our approach, and, though startled by the discharge of our guns, would only scamper off for a short distance, herd in compact bunches, and watch us. They were small animals, perhaps half the size of the Virginia deer, but their flesh was delicious, and our first meal, graced with the coldest spring water and by a small toothsome red berry like a strawberry, imparted to us the liveliest spirits. We felt eager and excited, an almost irritable curiosity had developed within us; forgetful of all we had left, oblivious, through an inscrutable exaltation of wonder, of the things, objects and endearments of home, we hungered for adventure. It was not many hours later that a new sensation eclipsed everything we had so far experienced, and threw us into an excitement that stirred the depths of our beings.