MOONLAND
by Atha Westbury · from Australian fairy tales
Adapted Version
Bob the shepherd lived in the Blue Mountains. He had a dog named Patch. Patch was his good friend. Bob liked to look for shiny rocks. This was his home. It was a pretty place. Big green trees grew there. The sun shone bright and warm. The air was fresh and clean. Birds sang sweet songs.
Bob looked for gold. He went down a big hill. The path was small. Patch stayed with the sheep. Patch was a good dog. He watched the sheep well. He kept them safe. Bob walked far. He looked for yellow stones. He hoped to find many. He wanted a big one.
Small creatures came out. They were grumpy. They had funny faces. Their noses were big. They ran to Bob quickly. They took his arms. Bob could not move at all. "This is our home!" a Grumpy Gnome said. His voice was loud. "You make much noise." Bob felt surprised. He did not know this. He felt a bit scared.
"Go away now," the Grumpy Gnome said. He pointed a finger. "Go to the Moon." Bob's eyes were big. "To the Moon?" he asked. The gnome nodded his head. "Yes, to the Moon. It is far away from here. Do not disturb us there." Bob felt scared. He did not want to go.
Then Bob saw a big, black hole. It was very dark. A strange thing floated there. It looked like a strange cover. It was round and wide. Two big, winged helpers came. They had strong arms. They picked Bob up gently. They put him in the strange cover. It was a bit soft inside. It felt warm and safe.
The cover moved down. It went very fast. Bob felt a little scared. It was like falling down a long, dark tunnel. Lights flashed all around him. Red, blue, green lights. They went past very fast. Bob was scared at first. But then he looked well. The lights were pretty. He saw many colors. He forgot to be scared. He wanted to see more. "Where am I going?" he thought. He felt wanting to know now. He looked all around.
The cover stopped. Bob was on the Moon. It was a quiet, grey place. Big rocks were all around. There were no trees. No green grass. Only grey dust. The sky was black. But it was not dark. A soft light shone. Bob looked around. "This is the Moon," he said. He felt very small.
Then Bob saw someone. A very big man stood there. He was tall like a tree. He had a kind face. "Hello, Bob," the big man said. His voice was deep. "I am the Moon Man. I watch Earth from here. I see many things." Bob was not scared. The Moon Man smiled. He had a kind smile.
"Are you hungry?" the Moon Man asked. Bob nodded his head. "There is no food here," the Moon Man said. "But you can have this." He gave Bob a cup. It had a special moon drink. Bob took a sip. It tasted sweet and strange. It made him feel good.
The Moon Man walked. Bob walked with him. They walked over moon rocks. The rocks were grey. "Big, old beasts lived here," the Moon Man said. "Long, long ago. They were very big. Now they are gone." Bob looked for bones. He saw only rocks. He saw no bones.
They came to a big mountain. Inside was a big cave. It was full of light. The light changed colors. Red, then blue, then yellow. Strange shapes moved in the light. They floated and danced. Bob watched them. It was a pretty sight. He liked the colors.
Then round things came. They were big and glowed. They floated around Bob. They were Moon natives. They were wanting to know. They gently lifted Bob up. They did not hurt him. They giggled a little. Bob felt like a toy. He felt very light.
The glowing things took Bob up. Up, up, up they went. Through the cave. Through the mountain. The lights spun around him. Red, blue, yellow. It was a fast ride. Then
Original Story
MOONLAND.
CHAPTER I.
Some of our relatives on the other side of the globe will be astonished to learn that the way to the Moon has been discovered by an unfortunate member of the literati of Australia.
The greatest thinkers of the day have scouted the idea as nothing but moonshine, when spoken to about the practicability of the discovery. But it must be borne in mind that the same laws of Nature which guide and rule the Mother Country are somewhat erratic here at the Antipodes, inasmuch as we are all upside down—standing on our heads, in fact. Therefore we are prepared for marvels. In a land where there are animals who stand on their tails, and fight with all four feet at once; where the young leap out of and into their parents’ stomachs at will—there being a strange bag in that quarter for the purpose of humouring the antics of the juveniles, just like the hole in the bow of a timber ship; where there are creatures that appear neither flesh nor fowl—who swim in ponds like a duck, have a duck’s bill, who lay eggs, yet have feet and hair like a beast; in a land where the leaves on the trees grow edgeways to the sun, and the trees themselves shoot downwards, surely it is no great wonder that we have found a passage to the great luminary of night, and had the pleasure of shaking hands and likewise supping with the disobedient man who gathered sticks on Sunday.
“HE WAS BORNE ALONG SO SWIFTLY THAT HE NEARLY LOST HIS SENSES.”
The scientific world will never feel half the surprise anent our new discovery as that which fell upon the old shepherd when he found himself surrounded and made a prisoner. He had left his sheep in charge of the only companion he had in these regions—viz., his dog. Within a sheltered nook on one of the fairest and most luxuriant slopes of the mysterious Blue Mountains, Patch, the half-bred dingo, held watch and ward over his charge while his master wandered down the rugged side of the cliff in search of gold. Here the sun was almost hid behind the broad awning of gigantic trees, whose immense trunks, gnarled and hoary with age, stood like mammoth sentinels to guard the dim glen below. The lonely herdsman had often descended to that spot before unmolested, but now from every mound and hollow there peered the grotesque faces of the Mountain Sprites, watching his every movement, until with a sudden rush they pounced upon him and held him fast. For a time he struggled manfully to free himself. It was quite useless. The genii of the Blue Mountains are a powerful people, not to be trifled with, as the shepherd soon discovered. He was lifted bodily up, and borne along so swiftly that he nearly lost his senses. The route of his captors lay in a downward direction—never upward. And it appeared as if the dusky ravines which they traversed led right away from the upper world into the region of eternal night.
“Dear friends, good people, where are you taking me?” cried the poor fellow in an affrighted tone.
“Bis, bus, silence, mortal!” replied an ancient gnome authoritatively. “Your destination is not on the Earth, but the Moon.”
“Good gracious!” ejaculated the poor shepherd, with starting eyeballs.
“Bus, peace,” rejoined the brownie in a whisper. “The voice of man hath never disturbed these solitudes since the creation.”
“Gentlemen, pray let me go!”
“Art thou not going, thou dissatisfied mortal? Be silent.”
“It is all up with me,” groaned the unfortunate captive.
“Nay, verily, it will be all down with thee,” answered the sprite. “Behold!”
As the fairy spoke they emerged into a dismal spot, in the midst of which gaped a wide, black pit; at the mouth of the chasm the shepherd beheld the forms of two beings in shape like the fabled vampires, who clapped their tremendous wings in ecstasy at sight of him.
“Who is this?” they cried.
And the fairies answered, “A visitor for Moonland.”
“No, no, I’m not going to the Moon,” replied the trembling shepherd.
The horrid vampires laughed in exultation at his misery, and the sound shook the walls of the solid cliffs around. “Hear me, Dusk, and thou, Lunar,” said the gnome, addressing the winged monsters. “This fellow hath had the impudence to invade our sacred precincts, and attempted to release some of our dreaded foes, the ‘Gold Nuggets’ whom we have made prisoners. What shall we do with the rascal?”
“Send him to the Moon,” they cried with one voice.
“Mercy, gentlemen, mercy.”
“Fiddlesticks! To Moonland with him,” answered the sprite. “There is lots of room for him to fossick there. Eh, Lunar?”
Over that terrible void, near where they held him, our hero observed a strange object floating with a gentle, oscillating motion, as a feather floats in space. In appearance, it was like a gigantic umbrella inverted, with a hole cut in the centre. To the ends of the ribs cords of gossamer were fastened which stretched upward to a car in the shape of a star, the points expanded like huge wings. The nature of this material, or by what process this curious vehicle had been manufactured, the unfortunate shepherd had neither power nor leisure at that moment to examine, for the ancient fay had no sooner spoken than Dusk and his companion seized hold of him, like a pair of vultures, and flew upward with him in the car of the parachute.
“Good-bye, Lunar, let me know when you arrive,” cried some of the fairies.
“Slide a message down a moonbeam,” responded others.
“Or a rainbow, or the tail of a comet.” And while the mountain sprites stood and jeered, the quaint machine suddenly shot down the empty space with the velocity of a cannon-ball.
Who shall describe the sensation of the poor mortal, as he felt himself falling—falling down—down, a blind mass, through the darkened air? Those who have fallen, or have leaped even from a moderate height, can have no conception of the frenzied terror that took possession of him for a moment. Yet it was only for a moment. Strange to say, he did not lose his presence of mind, and his fear left him as suddenly as it had fallen upon him. From a bewildering chaos of thought in the captive’s mind curiosity became paramount to all else. Amid the murky blackness around and about there was very little to examine, but the shepherd thrust his head through the gossamer network of the machine and gazed below. Far, far away in the profound depths beneath them, he saw a vast disc of soft light which threw its rays upward, and enabled him to discern that the abyss through which they were descending appeared like a hollow cone, the neck of which began in the mountain, and like an eddying circle in the water, gradually became wider and wider as they advanced.
The progress of the parachute was so swift that they rapidly emerged into the focus of the light—the wide mouth of the cone receding to a faint, dark circle on the pale horizon in the space of a few seconds. It was astounding how wondrous soft and beautiful the shimmering glow of light in this new region burst upon the mortal’s vision. He had witnessed many lovely changes from the lofty peaks of the New South Wales Alps, but Dame Nature had never presented herself to his eyes in such a garb before. Not the glaring, hot, dazzling rays of the summer sun here, but rather a gentle, subdued, dreamy refulgence, without the ghost of a shadow or shade of variation upon anything.
Above, below, one universal, pale, liquid glimmer, devoid of vapour. Distant mountains, peaked and gabled like an iceberg, appeared to view, and hills and valleys, with deep ruts and chasms, forming an amphitheatre of vast dimensions, became more clear to the sight every moment. Everything seemed mixed up and confounded by the uniformity of colour. Rocks, valleys, and streams presented a weird and wonderful aspect under new conditions where, like Hoffmann’s shadowless man, every object was lighted up on all sides, equally, in the absence of a central point. Scorched and charred and burnt, there was not a sign of a tree or a shrub on the face of the whole landscape. Scoriæ and dross and pumice-stone—nothing else, save the waters that lay bathed in luminous silvery grey.
From the vast panorama our hero turned his eyes upon his companions, the vampires. They had cast the netting of the car aside.
“Prepare thyself, mortal,” cried Lunar in a terrible voice.
“Prepare myself, for what?”
“For a header into the sea yonder beneath us,” answered the vampire coolly.
“Good heavens! Gentlemen, you really don’t think I can dive from this great height! I shall be dashed to mincemeat,” responded the shepherd, in a tone of consternation.
The monsters only laughed at him, and repeated their command.
“Descend a little lower, good Lunar. Do, gentle Dusk,” he pleaded.
“We can’t. This is Moonland. Not enough gravity here,” they replied.
“Moonland! Mercy on me! And shall I have to leave my old bones in the Moon?” cried he in despair.
“Plenty of ’em here—loads. Valleys full, as you’ll find. Come, jump!”
“I won’t!” cried the shepherd in a savage tone. Whereupon the monsters caught him with their claws, and threw him headlong from the car.
The fall was frightful to contemplate, and I’m afraid it will be necessary to allow the poor fellow seven days to recover his equilibrium.
CHAPTER II.
If the unhappy mortal had been capable of thinking at the moment he was hurled from the car by the vampires, it is more than probable that his mind would have presented the picture of a terrible and instantaneous death. Strange to relate, instead of the rushing, headlong plunge downward, to be anticipated under the conditions, our hero found himself gently floating in space with the buoyancy of one of the feathered tribe. The dread and fear of death were lost, or rather swallowed up in a nameless terror, at the unnatural position in which he was placed. Yet there was no mystery in it. According to a well-known law, the weight of bodies diminishes as they descend from the outside of the Earth. It is at the surface of the globe where weight is most sensibly felt, and it is just possible that, had we accompanied the shepherd through the thick crust of the terrestrial sphere, we should have soon discovered, as he did, that beyond, at the other side, there is little or no gravity at all. Hence his peculiar position. Indeed, it was most fortunate that the old man chanced to have several nuggets of gold in his pockets at the time, otherwise, I’m afraid he would have been suspended in mid-air like Mohammed’s coffin. As it happened, gold turned the scale, even in Moonland, and enabled the adventurous mortal to descend in a horizontal rather than a vertical course to the shores of the Moon.
Within his vision below lay a vast expanse of water; the rugged coast bordered with majestic hills, torn by earthquakes, and blasted and ravaged by volcanic fires. The waves broke on this shore with a dull, hollow noise against the cliffs. Some of these, dividing the coast with their sharp spurs, formed capes and promontories, fantastic in form and worn by the ceaseless action of the surf. It was like a continuous cosmical phenomenon, filling a basin of sufficient extent to contain an inland sea, and walled by enormous mountains with the irregular shores of Earth, but desert, and fearfully wild.
If the eyes of the shepherd were able to range afar over this sea, it was because the shadowless light brought to view every detail of it. The expanse above him was a sky of huge plains of cloud, pale yellow in colour, and drifting with rapidity athwart the firmament, where appeared dark circles, rings and cones, in lieu of stars. Everything that he could liken to aught on this globe seemed changed by some potent power into opposite extremes. Downward, slowly but surely, without the faculty to change his course either to the right or to the left, the mortal at length plunged into the water. He was a capital swimmer, and had no fear of being drowned. Imagine his dismay, however, when he found himself sinking to the bottom like a crowbar, in spite of his vigorous efforts to keep afloat. In vain he struck out and struggled desperately to rise to the surface by use of legs and arms. Vain and useless. Down he went, plumbing the depths below, until he touched the bottom; then, to his surprise, he rebounded back again like a cork, but only to go down again as speedily as before.
The poor fellow had been pertinaciously holding his breath, as is customary when bathing in terrestrial streams; and therefore when he could no longer resist the unconquerable will of nature to draw breath, judge of the consternation which laid hold of him, when, instead of the choking gasp of suffocation anticipated, he found little difficulty in respiration! In fact, that vast sheet was not water at all, such as he knew it, but a subtle fluid, half way between a liquid and a gas, which, though heavier than air, was yet so much lighter than water that it was impossible for him to float in it.
These discoveries come to him in quick succession, and created within his mind the most unspeakable astonishment. By degrees, and after many attempts, he found that he could walk along the bed of this strange sea with comparative ease. Accordingly he straightway reached the shore and sat down on the cliffs to rest. Wonder upon wonder had crowded so fast and thick upon the bewildered mind of our traveller that his thoughts were in a whirl. Yet another surprise was in store for him, for as he extended his vision over the landscape he beheld a gigantic creature approaching with prodigious bounds and flying leaps. In his utter amazement he believed one of the rugged hills had been suddenly endowed with life, and was hurrying on to crush him. Never before had the eyes of breathing mortal rested on such a mammoth of human outline. No, nor upon anything with such power of movement. He was not certain whether the monster was leaping or flying, but he was quite positive as to its extraordinary swiftness.
Australian Fairy Tales] [Page 209.
“He was not certain whether the monster was leaping or flying.”
In his terror the shepherd fled—when lo! he found that he too was endowed with this singular force of locomotion. It is surprising how fear lends a man wings. The terrestrial one didn’t need anything of the kind, though. Incredible the springs and leaps he made over the high peaks, across chasms and cliffs, and along the steep mountain-sides; wonderful the feeling which changed from dread to exuberant delight and ecstasy, and again to terror, as the mighty voice of the pursuer came upon his ears like a peal of thunder.
“Halt! Stop! Who art thou?”
Had he been then and there endowed with wings, the old shepherd felt that he could not escape from the owner of that voice. All he could do was to cast himself flat on his face and await his doom in silence.
“Shall Greencheese utter his command twice? Who art thou?” repeated the mammoth.
“Mercy, your Highness. I am only old Bob, the shepherd of the Blue Mountains, New South Wales.”
“Old Bob! Blue Mountains! Ha! Fuddle-fum. Well?”
“Some fairies got hold of me t’other day, and bundles me down here, on a sort of humberellar, your Worship; that’s all I knows about it,” cried the mortal in a despairing tone.
“Fairies! Mum! I know the rogues,” responded the creature quickly. “Many a summer’s night I have watched their freaks and gambols among secluded nooks and dells hidden away from mortal ken. Many a long hour we have held converse together, in the silent ravines and woods, when all the human mites of the Australian world were locked in sleep. Go on!”
“I knows noffin’ more, sir, only that I shouldn’t like to leave my old body here!” cried Bob.
“Ha! Buncham! Fi-pho—fiddle-faddlem! Thou shalt live.”
“Thanks, your Highness.” And the shepherd lifted his eyes and gazed upon his companion. The Colossus at Rhodes, towering high above the lofty gables of the aged city, was but a pigmy in comparison. Ancient, hoary Sphinx of the Egyptians, standing for countless years on the shores of Father Nile, would have seemed a thing of yesterday beside it. Nay, that primitive marvel, the figure of wood discovered in Joppa, aged five thousand years, could reckon itself an infant in proximity to this lunarian.
Save the round, full, Chinese-like face, with its accompanying tremendous mouth, and the faint outline of the human form, there was nothing further to assist description of the creature except that he was high and bulky beyond conception, and quite as transparent as a lighted lantern. The face wasn’t at all unpleasant. It beamed with such a broad, friendly, yet withal humorous, expression as it gazed down upon Bob, that the mortal found courage to address it.
“Please, who be you, sir?”
“Me? I’m the Man in the Moon, of course,” replied the creature, smiling.
“Eh! Why, dash my old jumper, if I didn’t think as I’d seen your countenance before!” answered the old herdsman with animation. “I can tell yer, as ye comes out pretty strong sometimes on them ’ere mountains t’other side of Sydney. Why, I’ve yarded many a thousand sheep, and you’ve been a-looking at me all the while, eh?”
The Man in the Moon nodded.
“Ah, and I’ll bet you knows my old dog, Patch?”
Another nod in the affirmative.
“Brayvo! old boy. Why, we’re old chums. Shake hands.”
“We never shake hands in the Moon, Bob; but I’ll embrace you,” cried the lunarian, smiling; and suiting the action to the word, he suddenly enveloped the mortal in such a broad beam of refulgence that the old fellow appeared as if cased in polished armour.
In accordance with the etiquette of Moonland, it would be rude to disturb their tête-à-tête before next Saturday.
CHAPTER III.
“The presumptuous beings on earth have the impudence to tell their children that the Moon is made of green cheese,” quoth the mammoth.
“Indeed, sir, but that is very true,” answered Bob. “When I was a boy I believed it was only a big cheese, and I can safely say that when I’ve seen it in the water, up at Bathurst, where we lived, I’ve been silly enough to wade into the water arter it, thinking to take it home and have my supper off it.”
“Ah, it’s rare fun to watch the moon-rakers try to grasp my shadow, Bob.”
“I believe you, sir. Lord, how you must laugh in your sleeve at ’em! Your Moonship must look down upon many a strange sight,” said the shepherd reflectively.
The Man in the Moon smiled widely. “Humph! I look upon all kindred of the terrestrial world,” he answered gravely. “I am but the pale reflection of the great luminary, the Sun, whose slave I am. When he fadeth from the surface of the globe, I borrow his beams and become the watchman of the night. The mighty human beings, and the lowly; rich and poor; the sinful and the good, are all beneath my vision. I watch the murderer crawling with stealthy feet towards his victim, and I note the robber lying in wait to plunder; I haunt the gloom where guilt and misery lie huddled together in rags. Wickedness in high places cannot escape me. Over the deep sleep of toiling millions my beams hold watch and ward, kissing the rosy lips of innocence, where yet lingers the soft breath of prayer. Hovering o’er the sighing maiden and the restless miser, weaving fancies which fill the poet’s brain with unutterable poesy, and with such shapes as live only in dreams of age and infancy, and vanish with the light of morn. Cuddlephum! Bobberish—Baa-lamb! Bo!”
“Just so,” said Bob, opening wide his eyes at the strange words. “I begs to say that French wasn’t taught at the school I went to. Howsoever, I’m quite willing to dine with you, if that’s what you mean. I’m beginning to feel pereshious hungry, I can tell yer.”
“Hungry! Base mortal, there is no such word known here,” echoed the monster.
“Good heavens! No eating!” cried Bob, aghast.
“None.”
“Scissors! I’m afraid visitors from Australia won’t overrun Moonland, if that’s the case.”
“Peace! Follow me, and thou shalt taste nectar, which shall banish the cravings of thy vulgar race.”
The Man in the Moon bounded away over the pumice-stone crags like a gigantic kangaroo, followed by Bob. Chaos and desolation were everywhere visible around them. Sad indeed and supremely melancholy looked the place. Mountains riven asunder; vast ravines and valleys choked with bleached bones of monsters unknown to men; immense plains, scattered thickly with the fossil remnants of ages; mingled dust and huge mounds of bony fragments of animal and reptile, which a thousand Cuviers could never have reconstructed. Up the rugged zigzags with tremendous leaps, echoless, shadowless, and across the dust, silent to their footfall, went the lunarian and the mortal.
“This is a dreary place, sir,” muttered the latter, almost breathless in his haste.
“Peace, or perchance the forms of these dead monsters will rise to rebuke thee!” answered his companion solemnly. “Here, where thou art standing, these enormous animals of the first period lived and roved at will. The human mind cannot conceive their colossal proportions, for they were extinct many ages before the advent of man.”
The shepherd followed his conductor in silence, wondering if it were possible that these mighty dead could take shape again and swallow him at one snap. Jonah had been bolted by a whale, but the skeletons of these creatures appeared large enough to engulf a hundred whales a day, and twice that number of Jonahs into the bargain.
Bob was almost ready to sink down amid the Golgotha when the Man in the Moon halted before a very high mountain. Making a sign to his companion to follow, he quickly disappeared from view. At first it seemed as if the mammoth had vanished within the mountain, but the mortal saw an opening at the base which he entered. What a study for a geologist! In the dim ages of the past, when the satellite of our Earth seethed and boiled as a vast crater, the solid intestines of this cone, yielding to some great power below it, had been riven in twain, leaving an unmeasurable grotto of winding galleries. Toiling along in the wake of the lunarian, the captive trod on a broad aisle, on each side of which rose a series of arches succeeding each other, like the noble arcades of some Gothic cathedral. Obelisk-like massive pillars stood out from the rent wall like mighty sentinels guarding the wreck. Had our hero been a mineralogist, armed with his hammer, his steel pointer, his magnetic needles, and his blow pipe, what a fund of information he might have gleaned here to place before the spectacles of professors and philosophers! Nay, had he but possessed the faintest idea of the science of building, what patterns, what studies around and above him, for every form of the art to hereafter confound architects of the nineteenth century!
Poor Bob was neither a mineralogist nor an architect, so he passed by these things without a second glance, and entered a vaulted chamber, upon whose round, jagged dome rested the whole weight of the mountain; the dented projections and the sharp points on wall and roof spun into an endless network of lines and seams, luminous as all things here seemed to be, and changing colour from silver-grey to deep crimson.
Wonder had lost its functions for Bob the shepherd, otherwise he would have stood aghast at the strange forms moving to and fro within this chamber; round in shape, and taller than giants of long ago, with arms and legs evidently telescoped at the joints, so that they could lengthen or shorten them at will, and each shedding their quota of refulgence to illuminate the scene. Monster glow-worms, gigantic fire-flies, with the trickery of monkeys, and the strength of bears, seized the shrinking man, and rose with him to the dome, which opened instantly and engulfed them. Amidst a circle of light, which changed quicker than the sparkles of a diamond, the poor shepherd found he was being borne upward and hemmed in by a ring of these natives of the Moon—upward and yet upward, without will to pause or stop, the mad whirlwind of light ever changing, red, blue, grey, yellow, white, azure, and the legion gathering in increased numbers every moment round him until the climax came, and the crater, that had been silent for countless ages, once more opened its ponderous jaws, casting him forth as a rocket, where—amidst fiery rings and bars, and blazing stars of light—he fell down, down, down into darkness and oblivion!
* * *
“I say, mate, how far is it to the Blue Mountains Inn?”
Old Bob, the shepherd, rubbed his eyes and looked up at the questioner. He was a stout, thick-set fellow, with a heavy swag on his back, and a black billy-can in his hand.
The man had to repeat his query ere the herdsman found speech.
“Why, surely, you’re not the Man in the Moon, eh?” asked Bob, with a wild stare.
The swagman stepped backward a pace or two, and regarded our hero with more attention.
“Man in the Moon!” he repeated. “Why, the old fellow’s gone off his head.”
“ ‘WHY, SURELY, YOU’RE NOT THE MAN IN THE MOON?’ ”
“Where’s the others with the long legs and arms?” and the shepherd shuddered.
“He’s cranky, sure enough,” muttered the traveller audibly. “The coves as you were asking arter are all gone,” he said aloud. “You get up on your pins, or they’ll be back again Here’s a bob; come now, hook it, or they’ll have you,” saying which the swagman went on his way.
Our hero raised himself into a sitting posture. Before him lay the verdant slopes and ridges of the mountain, bathed in sunlight. Yonder his sheep fed peacefully, watched by the faithful Patch. Then the old man raised his vision higher than the earth and thanked Heaven that he was still safe and sound on terra firma.
Story DNA
Plot Summary
An Australian shepherd named Bob, while gold prospecting, is captured by mischievous Mountain Sprites who accuse him of trespassing. As punishment, they send him on a terrifying journey to the Moon in a strange flying contraption. On the desolate, shadowless lunar surface, Bob encounters the giant, philosophical Man in the Moon, who reveals the Moon's ancient history and its role as an observer of Earth. After a wondrous but unsettling exploration, Bob is seized by glowing Moon natives and violently ejected back into space, only to awaken back on Earth, unsure if his adventure was real or a vivid dream, profoundly relieved to be safe on familiar ground.
Themes
Emotional Arc
fear to wonder to terror to relief
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
The story reflects a colonial-era Australian perspective, blending European fairy tale tropes with unique Australian geography and a sense of wonder at its distinct natural world. The 'literati of Australia' and 'Mother Country' references point to a time when Australia was still strongly tied to Britain.
Plot Beats (16)
- The narrator introduces the discovery of a passage to the Moon from Australia, emphasizing the unique nature of the Antipodes.
- Shepherd Bob is gold prospecting in the Blue Mountains, leaving his dog Patch with his sheep.
- Grotesque Mountain Sprites ambush and capture Bob, accusing him of invading their territory and attempting to free their 'Gold Nugget' prisoners.
- The Sprites decide to send Bob to the Moon as punishment, despite his pleas for mercy.
- Bob is placed into a strange, inverted umbrella-like vehicle by two winged, vampire-like beings, Dusk and Lunar.
- The vehicle rapidly descends through a vast, illuminated, cone-shaped abyss, terrifying Bob initially, but then sparking his intense curiosity.
- Bob lands on the Moon, a desolate, shadowless landscape of scorched mountains, valleys, and fossilized remains.
- He encounters the Man in the Moon, a giant, philosophical being who explains the Moon's role as a silent observer of Earth.
- The Man in the Moon tells Bob there is no food on the Moon, only 'nectar' to banish earthly cravings.
- They journey through the Moon's desolate landscape, with the Man in the Moon explaining the ancient, colossal creatures that once roamed there.
- They enter a vast, cathedral-like grotto within a mountain, filled with luminous, changing colors and strange, moving forms.
- Bob is seized by these round, giant, glowing Moon natives, who can lengthen their limbs at will.
- He is borne upward through a whirlwind of changing light, through the mountain's crater, and then cast out into darkness.
- Bob wakes up on Earth, rubbing his eyes, to a swagman asking for directions to the Blue Mountains Inn.
- Confused, Bob asks if the swagman is the Man in the Moon, leading the swagman to believe he's gone mad.
- Bob realizes he is back on the verdant slopes of the mountain, his sheep grazing peacefully, and thanks Heaven for being safe on 'terra firma'.
Characters
Bob, the Shepherd ★ protagonist
A stout, thick-set man, likely weathered from outdoor life in the Australian Blue Mountains. His build suggests a life of physical labor. He is not described as particularly tall or short, but rather sturdy.
Attire: Practical, durable clothing suitable for an Australian shepherd in the late 19th/early 20th century. This would include sturdy trousers, a work shirt (perhaps flannel or thick cotton), a wide-brimmed hat to protect from the sun, and robust boots. Colors would be earthy and muted.
Wants: Initially, to find gold. Later, his primary motivation becomes survival and returning to Earth. Ultimately, he desires safety and the familiar comforts of his home.
Flaw: His fear and susceptibility to being overwhelmed by strange, supernatural events. He is also somewhat naive, easily captured and bewildered.
He begins as a gold-seeking shepherd and is thrust into a terrifying, otherworldly journey to the Moon. He experiences extreme fear and disorientation but ultimately returns to Earth, profoundly shaken but safe, appreciating his mundane reality more than before.
Fearful, easily startled, but also resilient and capable of retaining his presence of mind in extreme situations. He is curious, as shown by his observations, but also practical and focused on basic needs like eating. He is grateful for his safety.
Image Prompt & Upload
A stout, thick-set adult man standing upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. He has a weathered, sun-beaten face with wide, startled blue eyes and a short, practical haircut. He wears a faded brown wide-brimmed felt hat, a cream-colored linen shirt with rolled-up sleeves, sturdy dark green canvas trousers, and worn leather boots. His posture is slightly hunched, and his expression is one of profound bewilderment and fear. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Patch ◆ supporting
A half-bred dingo, implying a mix of wild dingo and domestic dog characteristics. This would mean a lean, athletic build, with a coat that might be a mix of ginger, sandy, or brindle colors, possibly with patches of white or darker fur, hence the name 'Patch'.
Attire: None, as he is an animal.
Wants: To protect his master's flock and remain faithful to Bob.
Flaw: None explicitly stated, but as a dog, he is limited by his animal nature and cannot intervene in supernatural events.
Remains a constant, faithful presence, symbolizing the stability and reality Bob returns to.
Loyal, faithful, watchful, and responsible, diligently guarding the sheep in his master's absence.
Image Prompt & Upload
A lean, athletic half-bred dingo standing alert, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. Its fur is a mix of sandy ginger and white patches, with short, dense hair. It has a long snout, pricked ears, and intelligent amber eyes. Its tail is held high and slightly curved. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Ancient Gnome ⚔ antagonist
Described as 'ancient', suggesting a wizened, possibly hunched form. As a gnome, he would likely be short in stature, with a sturdy, earthy build, perhaps with gnarled hands and feet.
Attire: Earthy, natural attire, perhaps made of moss, leaves, or rough spun fabric in muted greens and browns, blending with the Blue Mountains environment. He might wear a pointed cap or hood.
Wants: To protect the 'sacred precincts' of the Blue Mountains and punish intruders, particularly those who might release their 'dreaded foes, the Gold Nuggets'.
Flaw: His rigid adherence to his role as guardian and punisher, lacking empathy.
Remains static, a symbol of the unyielding, ancient forces that govern the magical world.
Authoritative, stern, impatient, and somewhat cruel. He shows no mercy to Bob and is quick to condemn him.
Image Prompt & Upload
A short, wizened male gnome with a grotesque, ancient face, deep-set, sharp eyes, and a long, scraggly grey beard. His skin is a mottled grey-green, like moss-covered stone. He wears a pointed, dark green hood and a rough-spun tunic of brown and forest green, cinched with a rope belt. His hands are gnarled and powerful, held in an authoritative gesture. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Dusk ⚔ antagonist
One of two beings 'in shape like the fabled vampires', implying a humanoid form with bat-like features. They possess 'tremendous wings'. Their appearance is 'horrid', suggesting a monstrous or terrifying aspect.
Attire: No specific clothing mentioned, implying a natural, perhaps leathery or shadowy skin that serves as their covering, or minimal, dark garments that do not detract from their monstrous form.
Wants: To punish those who invade their sacred precincts and to enforce the will of the Mountain Sprites.
Flaw: None explicitly stated.
Remains static, a terrifying enforcer of the magical world's rules.
Exultant, cruel, and predatory. They delight in the misery of others and are eager to punish intruders.
Image Prompt & Upload
A tall, gaunt humanoid figure with leathery, dark grey skin and sharp, angular features. Its face is 'horrid' with glowing red eyes and a predatory sneer, revealing sharp fangs. Enormous, leathery bat-like wings, dark and veined, are spread wide behind its back. Its hands are clawed. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Lunar ⚔ antagonist
One of two beings 'in shape like the fabled vampires', implying a humanoid form with bat-like features. They possess 'tremendous wings'. Their appearance is 'horrid', suggesting a monstrous or terrifying aspect.
Attire: No specific clothing mentioned, implying a natural, perhaps leathery or shadowy skin that serves as their covering, or minimal, dark garments that do not detract from their monstrous form.
Wants: To punish those who invade their sacred precincts and to enforce the will of the Mountain Sprites.
Flaw: None explicitly stated.
Remains static, a terrifying enforcer of the magical world's rules.
Exultant, cruel, and predatory. They delight in the misery of others and are eager to punish intruders.
Image Prompt & Upload
A tall, gaunt humanoid figure with leathery, dark grey skin and sharp, angular features. Its face is 'horrid' with glowing yellow eyes and a predatory sneer, revealing sharp fangs. Enormous, leathery bat-like wings, dark and veined, are spread wide behind its back. Its hands are clawed. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Man in the Moon ◆ supporting
Described as a 'mammoth' and 'gigantic kangaroo' in his movements, implying a large, powerful, and perhaps somewhat elongated or lanky build. He is a 'lunarian', suggesting an otherworldly, non-human physique.
Attire: No specific clothing mentioned, implying a natural covering or simple, unadorned garments suitable for the desolate Moon landscape. Perhaps a flowing, pale grey or white robe that blends with the pumice-stone crags.
Wants: To guide Bob through Moonland and perhaps to impart some of its desolate wisdom, while also enforcing its strange rules (like no eating).
Flaw: His rigid adherence to the Moon's customs and his lack of understanding for human needs like food.
Remains static, serving as a mysterious, otherworldly guide for Bob's journey on the Moon.
Solemn, authoritative, and somewhat cryptic. He is a guide but also a stern teacher, rebuking Bob for his 'vulgar race's' cravings and for disturbing the silence. He is knowledgeable about the Moon's ancient history.
Image Prompt & Upload
A tall, slender humanoid figure with pale, luminous grey skin, standing upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. Its limbs appear long and powerful, like those of a giant kangaroo. Its face is smooth and unlined, with large, solemn, dark eyes and no visible hair. It wears a simple, flowing robe of pale, shimmering silver-grey fabric that seems to absorb and reflect the dim light. Its posture is regal and still. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Swagman ○ minor
A stout, thick-set fellow, similar in build to Bob, suggesting a life of physical labor and travel in the Australian bush.
Attire: Typical Australian swagman attire: sturdy, practical clothing like a flannel shirt, moleskin trousers, and a wide-brimmed hat. He carries a 'heavy swag' (bedroll/pack) on his back and a 'black billy-can' (for boiling water/cooking) in his hand.
Wants: To travel and reach his destination, likely an inn in the Blue Mountains.
Flaw: His quick judgment of Bob as 'cranky' and his lack of understanding of Bob's ordeal.
A brief, static character who serves to ground Bob back in reality.
Practical, direct, and somewhat dismissive of what he perceives as madness. He shows a brief moment of concern for Bob's state but is ultimately focused on his own journey.
Image Prompt & Upload
A stout, thick-set adult man standing upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. He has a sun-tanned face with a practical, no-nonsense expression and a short, dusty beard. He wears a wide-brimmed felt hat, a faded blue flannel shirt, sturdy moleskin trousers, and worn leather boots. A large, heavy canvas swag is rolled and strapped to his back, and he holds a black billy-can in his right hand. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Sheltered Nook in the Blue Mountains
A sheltered nook on a luxuriant slope of the mysterious Blue Mountains, where the sun is almost hidden behind the broad awning of gigantic trees. Their immense trunks, gnarled and hoary with age, stand like mammoth sentinels guarding the dim glen below. The ground is rugged near a cliff side.
Mood: Initially peaceful and secluded, then becomes eerie and threatening as sprites appear.
The shepherd Bob is captured by Mountain Sprites while searching for gold.
Image Prompt & Upload
A sheltered nook within the Australian Blue Mountains, where ancient, gnarled Eucalyptus trees with immense, hoary trunks rise like sentinels, their dense canopy filtering the afternoon sun into dappled light on the rugged, moss-covered ground. A steep, rocky cliff face descends into a dim glen, with vibrant green ferns and native shrubs clinging to the slopes. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Dismal Spot with a Black Pit
A dismal, desolate spot in the Blue Mountains, characterized by solid, towering cliffs that form walls around a wide, black, gaping pit or chasm. The air is dark and foreboding.
Mood: Terrifying, ominous, and desolate, filled with dread.
Bob is brought to this pit by the sprites and forced into a vehicle to be sent to the Moon.
Image Prompt & Upload
A desolate, dismal chasm in the Australian Blue Mountains, surrounded by towering, dark sandstone cliffs that form a natural amphitheater. At the center, a wide, black, gaping pit descends into an unseen abyss. The moonlight is faint, casting long, deep shadows across the rugged, rocky ground. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Lunar Surface: Pumice-stone Crags and Fossil Plains
A chaotic and desolate lunar landscape, characterized by pumice-stone crags, vast ravines, and valleys choked with bleached bones of unknown monsters. Immense plains are scattered thickly with fossil remnants, mingled dust, and huge mounds of bony fragments of animal and reptile. The terrain is rugged and uneven, with zigzags.
Mood: Supremely melancholy, desolate, eerie, and ancient, evoking a sense of primordial death and vastness.
Bob traverses this desolate landscape with the Man in the Moon, learning about the extinct creatures.
Image Prompt & Upload
A desolate lunar landscape under a star-filled, inky black sky, dominated by jagged pumice-stone crags and deep, shadow-filled ravines. Vast, dusty plains stretch into the distance, littered with immense, bleached fossilized bones and fragments of colossal, ancient creatures, their forms half-buried in the grey lunar regolith. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Mountain Interior: Cavern of Winding Galleries
The interior of a very high mountain on the Moon, formed by a vast crater that was riven in twain, creating an unmeasurable grotto of winding galleries. It features a broad aisle flanked by a series of arches resembling a Gothic cathedral, with obelisk-like massive pillars protruding from the rent walls. The vaulted chamber at the end has a round, jagged dome, with dented projections and sharp points on the walls and roof, all luminous and changing color from silver-grey to deep crimson.
Mood: Awe-inspiring, ancient, mysterious, and later, terrifyingly alien and disorienting.
Bob explores this cavern, witnesses the strange architecture, and is then seized by the Moon natives.
Image Prompt & Upload
The interior of a colossal lunar mountain, revealing a vast grotto of winding galleries carved from ancient, solidified volcanic rock. A broad aisle stretches forward, flanked by a series of soaring, natural arches resembling a Gothic cathedral, with immense, obelisk-like pillars of dark, crystalline rock jutting from the rent walls. The entire space is dimly luminous, with veins of silver-grey minerals shifting to deep crimson along the jagged surfaces. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
