y,
and I don't deny that serious objections may be brought against it."

"Do you know, dear boys," cried Ardan, led off as usual by the slightest
fancy, "do you know what I am thinking of when I look down on the great
rugged plains spread out beneath us?"

"I can't say, I'm sure," replied Barbican, somewhat piqued at the little
attention he had secured for his theory.

"Well, what are you thinking of?" asked M'Nicholl.

"Spillikins!" answered Ardan triumphantly.

"Spillikins?" cried his companions, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, Spillikins! These rocks, these blocks, these peaks, these streaks,
these cones, these cracks, these ramparts, these escarpments,--what are
they but a set of spillikins, though I acknowledge on a grand scale? I
wish I had a little hook to pull them one by one!"

[Illustration: AN IMMENSE BATTLEFIELD.]

"Oh, do be serious, Ardan!" cried Barbican, a little impatiently.

"Certainly," replied Ardan. "Let us be serious, Captain, since
seriousness best befits the subject in hand. What do you think of
another comparison? Does not this plain look like an immense battle
field piled with the bleaching bones of myriads who had slaughtered each
other to a man at the bidding of some mighty Caesar? What do you think
of that lofty comparison, hey?"

"It is quite on a par with the other," muttered Barbican.

"He's hard to please, Captain," continued Ardan, "but let us try him
again! Does not this plain look like--?"

"My worthy friend," interrupted Barbican, quietly, but in a tone to
discourage further discussion, "what you think the plain _looks like_ is
of very slight import, as long as you know no more than a child what it
really _is_!"

"Bravo, Barbican! well put!" cried the irrepressible Frenchman. "Shall I
ever realize the absurdity of my entering into an argument with a
scientist!"

But this time the Projectile, though advancing northward with a pretty
uniform velocity, had neither gained nor lost in its nearness to the
lunar disc. Each moment altering the character of the fleeting landscape
beneath them, the travellers, as may well be imagined, never thought of
taking an instant's repose. At about half past one, looking to their
right on the west, they saw the summits of another mountain; Barbican,
consulting his map, recognized _Eratosthenes_.

This was a ring mountain, about 33 miles in diameter, having, like
_Copernicus_, a crater of immense profundity containing central cones.
Whilst t