THE JOURNEY TO CALNOGOR.
There was in Kioram a temple dedicated to the god Rakamadeva, or
Sacred Locomotive, which was one of the many gods worshipped by the
Atvatabarese. It belonged to the gods embraced in the category of
"gods of invention," and its motive power was magnicity, the same
force that propelled the flying men. It was a powerful structure built
of solid gold, platinum, terrelium, aquelium, and plutulium, and
alloys of the most precious and heaviest of metals, and was both car
and locomotive, and was hung over a single elevated rail that
supported it, the weight resting on six wheels in front and six
behind, all concealed by the body of the car.
The battery consisted of one hundred cells of terrelium and aquelium
that developed a gigantic force. The six driving wheels at either end
of the car were of immense size, and the tires were hollowed out with
a semi-circular groove that fitted upon the high rounded rail. On this
rail rested the entire weight of the car, which oscillated as it
rushed. The end of each projecting head was inlaid with an enormous
ruby, and the framework of the god was enriched in numerous places
with precious stones. The sacred locomotive had as attendants
twenty-four priests, clad in flowing vestures of orange and aloe-green
silk (the royal colors), arranged in alternate stripes of great width,
typical of a green earth and golden sky.
Royal and privileged travellers were alone permitted to harness the
god, and by command of the king we were to enter Calnogor by means of
the sacred courier.
The route to the temple led through a different part of the city than
that traversed by us when going to the governor's palace. We had
leisure to observe more particularly the architecture and the
appearance of the streets through which we passed. The roadway
everywhere was one solid block of white marble, and emporiums and
dwellings were built of the same material.
"You seem to have sculptured the city out of a mountain of white
marble," I said to the governor, who rode his bockhockid alongside
mine.
"That is, indeed, the fact," replied the governor. "The entire city
has been laboriously hewn from an immense mountain."
"Then in building your houses, you laid the foundation with the roof,
and built them downward until you arrived at the level of the street,"
I said.
"That is precisely so," said he. "Our streets are simply ornamental
chasms cut in the solid rock. Both roadway and building are composed
of the same stone. One stone has built the entire city."
I was surprised at the idea of the stupendous labor involved in
carving a city containing half a million of inhabitants, but,
considering that a man could easily lift a block of stone weighing
half a ton in the outer sphere, I saw that even so prodigious a task
as chiselling Kioram might well be accomplished. It was a new
sensation to bound on a bockhockid over the smoothly carved pavement,
where once stood the mighty heart of a mountain of stone. All the
buildings along the route were wonderfully sculptured. There seemed no
end to the floriated mouldings, pillars and other decorations in
relief, wrought in a strange order of art that was most captivating.
As for ourselves, we must have presented an interesting procession.
Our Viking helmets of polished brass gleamed in the sunlight like
gold. The emblazoned bear thereon was a symbol to the Atvatabarese of
a species of divinity that protected us as beings of another world.
We arrived at the temple of the sacred locomotive, and were received
by the winged priests in charge. Dismounting amid the sound of music,
a procession was formed, the priests leading the way along a wide
hallway that terminated in the temple of the god.
The god Rakamadeva was a glorious sight. On a causeway of marble
flanked with steps on either side stood that object of magnic life and
beauty in a blaze of metals and jewels worthy the praise of the
priests, in itself a royal palace.
This automobile car in shape seemed a compound of the back of a turtle
and a Siamese temple, and was of extraordinary magnificence. Both
front and rear tapered down to the solid platinum framework of the
wheels, that extended beyond the car at both ends, the projections
simulating the heads of monsters that held each between their jaws one
hundred cells of triple metal, which developed a tremendous force.
The priests chanted the following ode to the sacred locomotive:
"Glorious annihilator of time and space, lord of distance, imperial
courier.
"Hail, swift and sublime man-created god, hail colossal and bright
wheel!
"Thy wheels adamant, thy frame platinum, thy cells terrelium,
aquelium!
"Thou art lightning shivering on the metals, thy breathless flights
affright Atvatabar!
"The affluence of life animates thy form, that flashes through valleys
and on mountains high!
"The forests roar as thou goest past, the gorge echoes thy thunder!
[Illustration: THE SACRED LOCOMOTIVE STORMED THE MOUNTAIN HEIGHTS WITH
ITS AUDACIOUS TREAD.]
"Thy savage wheels ravage space. Convulsed with life, thy tireless
form devours the heights of heaven!
"Labor and glory and terror leap as thy thundering feet go by; thy
axles burn with the steady sweep, till on wings of fire they fly!"
The four-and-twenty priests formed a guard of honor as we
reverentially entered the car. On our side of the god were seated
Governor Ladalmir, Admiral Jolar and staff, myself and officers of the
_Polar King_, including the scientific staff. The other side contained
the sailors under command of Flathootly, master-at-arms, escorted by
Captains Pra and Nototherboc.
The priests were distributed around the outside of the car, holding on
to golden hand-rails. A priest seated on a throne in front moved a
switch, and, with a roar of music, the god leaped upon the metals. The
wonderful lightness of the car allowed us to attain a tremendous
speed. The mightiest curves were taken at a single breath. The silken
robes of the priests flashed in the wind.
The car vibrated with a thousand tremors. In the wide windows of thick
glass were framed rapid phantasmagoria of landscapes, as the flying
panorama unrolled itself. There were visions of interminable prairies,
over which we swept, a blinding flash, leaving a low, spreading cloud
of dust on the rails to mark our flight.
We plunged into tunnels of darkness, where the warm air roared with
the echoes of the delirious wheels. The cry of the caverns saluted us
like the shouts of unknown monsters dwelling in the heart of the
mountains.
The sacred locomotive was an element of life, as it shot from the
tunnels and bounded up curving mountain heights through pastures of
delightful flowers. With wheels prevailed upon by the tension of the
invincible fluid, the monster swerved not before the proudest
precipice. It stormed the heights with its audacious tread, flinging
itself on the mountain pass, a marvel of power and intrepidity, and
known as the devourer of distance.
In five hours we had traversed five hundred miles, the distance from
Kioram to Calnogor.