We looked at one another.

“There might be a chance to parley,” said Cavor.

“No,” I said.  “Not as we are.”

For a space we remained, each occupied by his own thoughts.

Chid, chid, chid went the chipping, and the shadows moved to and fro.

I looked at the grating.  “It’s flimsy,” I said.  “We might bend two of the bars and crawl through.”

We wasted a little time in vague discussion.  Then I took one of the bars in both hands, and got my feet up against the rock until they were almost on a level with my head, and so thrust against the bar.  It bent so suddenly that I almost slipped.  I clambered about and bent the adjacent bar in the opposite direction, and then took the luminous fungus from my pocket and dropped it down the fissure.

“Don’t do anything hastily,” whispered Cavor, as I twisted myself up through the opening I had enlarged.  I had a glimpse of busy figures as I came through the grating, and immediately bent down, so that the rim of the depression in which the grating lay hid me from their eyes, and so lay flat, signalling advice to Cavor as he also prepared to come through.  Presently we were side by side in the depression, peering over the edge at the cavern and its occupants.

It was a much larger cavern than we had supposed from our first glimpse of it, and we looked up from the lowest portion of its sloping floor.  It widened out as it receded from us, and its roof came down and hid the remoter portion altogether.  And lying in a line along its length, vanishing at last far away in that tremendous perspective, were a number of huge shapes, huge pallid hulls, upon which the Selenites were busy.  At first they seemed big white cylinders of vague import.  Then I noted the heads upon them lying towards us, eyeless and skinless like the heads of sheep at a butcher’s, and perceived they were the carcasses of mooncalves being cut up, much as the crew of a whaler might cut up a moored whale.  They were cutting off the flesh in strips, and on some of the farther trunks the white ribs were showing.  It was the sound of their hatchets that made that chid, chid, chid.  Some way away a thing like a trolley cable, drawn and loaded with chunks of lax meat, was running up the slope of the cavern floor.  This enormous long avenue of hulls that were destined to be food gave us a sense of the vast populousness of the moon world second only to the effect of our first glimpse down the shaft.

It seemed to me at first that the Selenites must be standing on trestle-supported planks,[*] and then I saw that the planks and supports and the hatchets were really of the same leaden hue as my fetters had seemed before white light came to bear on them.  A number of very thick-looking crowbars lay about the floor, and had apparently assisted to turn the dead mooncalf over on its side.  They were perhaps six feet long, with shaped handles, very tempting-looking weapons.  The whole place was lit by three transverse streams of the blue fluid.