From the first the doctor and I had been curious to know if she would give
up the musical tone and simply talk as we did, and we were pleasantly
surprised to find that her song was not interrupted by the form of words
she used. Whatever the phrase she wanted to employ she turned it into
verse on the instant and chanted it forth in perfect melody. So
spontaneous was every expression that her very thoughts seemed to be
framed in harmony. Her voice was not obtrusive nor monotonous and
generally not loud, but was always well adapted to the sense of what she
was singing. The tones mostly used in conversation were low and sweet,
like rippling water, but these were constantly varied by the introduction
of notes of greater power and range.

To have such use made of our rugged speech was a revelation to us, and
words, as we employ them, are inadequate to express our enjoyment of
Mona's song, when to its former beauty was added the clear enunciation of
language that we could understand.

It was through this rare medium that the doctor and I learned, from day to
day, something of the history of Mona's race. The surface of the moon had
once been peopled, as we supposed, but as the day of decay and death
approached the outside of the globe became too inhospitable to longer
support life. The interior had cooled and contracted, and as the solid
crust was rigid enough to keep its place, great, sublunar caverns had been
formed. Into these rushed the water and the atmosphere, accompanied by the
few remaining inhabitants. The conditions were not favorable, in such
places, to the continuation of the race, although their advanced knowledge
in every direction prevented them from melting away suddenly.

Settlements had been formed in many different sections of the moon, and
interior communication was established between them. As the people