_JOURNEY'S END_
"All aboard!" was the signal, and the squadron having assembled under
the lead of the flagship, we started again for Mars.
This time, as it proved, there was to be no further interruption, and
when next we paused it was in the presence of the world inhabited by our
enemies, and facing their frowning batteries.
We did not find it so easy to start from the asteroid as it had been to
start from the earth; that is to say, we could not so readily generate a
very high velocity.
In consequence of the comparatively small size of the asteroid, its
electric influence was very much less than that of the earth, and
notwithstanding the appliances which we possessed for intensifying the
electrical effect, it was not possible to produce a sufficient repulsion
to start us off for Mars with anything like the impulse which we had
received from the earth on our original departure.
The utmost velocity that we could generate did not exceed three miles in
a second, and to get this required our utmost efforts. In fact, it had
not seemed possible that we should attain even so great a speed as that.
It was far more than we could have expected, and even Mr. Edison was
surprised, as well as greatly gratified, when he found that we were
moving with the velocity that I have named.
We were still about 6,000,000 miles from Mars, so that, traveling three
miles in a second, we should require at least twenty-three days to reach
the immediate neighborhood of the planet.
Meanwhile we had plenty of occupation to make the time pass quickly. Our
prisoner was transported along with us, and we now began our attempts to
ascertain what his language was, and, if possible, to master it
ourselves.
Before quitting the asteroid we had found that it was necessary for him
to swallow one of his "air pills," as Professor Moissan had called them,
at least three times in the course of every twenty-four hours. One of us
supplied him regularly and I thought that I could detect evidences of a
certain degree of gratitude in his expression. This was encouraging,
because it gave additional promise of the possibility of our being able
to communicate with him in some more effective way than by mere signs.
But once inside the car, where we had a supply of air kept at the
ordinary pressure experienced on the earth, he could breathe like the
rest of us.
The best linguists in the expedition, as Mr. Edison had suggested, were
now assembled in the flagship, where the prisoner was, and they set to
work to devise some means of ascertaining the manner in which he was
accustomed to express his thoughts. We had not heard him speak, because
until we carried him into our car there was no atmosphere capable of
conveying any sounds he might attempt to utter.
It seemed a fair assumption that the language of the Martians would be
scientific in its structure. We had so much evidence of the practical
bent of their minds, and of the immense progress which they had made in
the direction of the scientific conquest of nature, that it was not to
be supposed their medium of communication with one another would be
lacking in clearness, or would possess any of the puzzling and
unnecessary ambiguities that characterized the languages spoken on the
earth.
"We shall not find them making he's and she's of stones, sticks and
other inanimate objects," said one of the American linguists. "They must
certainly have gotten rid of all that nonsense long ago."
"Ah," said a French Professor from the Sorbonne, one of the makers of
the never-to-be-finished dictionary. "It will be like the language of my
country. Transparent, similar to the diamond, and sparkling as is the
fountain."
"I think," said a German enthusiast, "that it will be a universal
language, the Volapuk of Mars, spoken by all the inhabitants of that
planet."
"But all these speculations," broke in Mr. Edison, "do not help you
much. Why not begin in a practical manner by finding out what the
Martian calls himself, for instance."
This seemed a good suggestion, and accordingly several of the bystanders
began an expressive pantomime, intended to indicate to the giant, who
was following all their motions with his eyes, that they wished to know
by what name he called himself. Pointing their fingers to their own
breast they repeated, one after the other, the word "man."
If our prisoner had been a stupid savage, of course any such attempt as
this to make him understand would have been idle. But it must be
remembered that we were dealing with a personage who had presumably
inherited from hundreds of generations the results of a civilization,
and an intellectual advance, measured by the constant progress of
millions of years.
Accordingly we were not very much astonished, when, after a few
repetitions of the experiment, the Martian--one of whose arms had been
partially released from its bonds in order to give him a little freedom
of motion--imitated the action of his interrogators by pressing his
finger over his heart.
Then, opening his mouth, he gave utterance to a sound which shook the
air of the car like the hoarse roar of a lion. He seemed himself
surprised by the noise he made, for he had not been used to speak in so
dense an atmosphere.
Our ears were deafened and confused, and we recoiled in astonishment,
not to say, half in terror.
With an ugly grin distorting his face as if he enjoyed our discomfiture,
the Martian repeated the motion and the sound.
"R-r-r-r-r-r-h!"
It was not articulate to our ears and not to be represented by any
combination of letters.
"Faith," exclaimed a Dublin University professor, "if that's what they
call themselves, how shall we ever translate their names when we come to
write the history of the conquest?"
"Whist, mon," replied a professor from the University of Aberdeen, "let
us whip the gillravaging villains first, and then we can describe them
by any intitulation that may suit our deesposition."
The beginning of our linguistic conquest was certainly not promising, at
least if measured by our acquirement of words, but from another point of
view it was very gratifying, inasmuch as it was plain that the Martian
understood what we were trying to do, and was, for the present, at
least, disposed to aid us.
These efforts to learn the language of Mars were renewed and repeated
every few hours, all the experience, learning and genius of the squadron
being concentrated upon the work, and the result was that in the course
of a few days we had actually succeeded in learning a dozen or more of
the Martian's words and were able to make him understand us when we
pronounced them, as well as to understand him when our ears had become
accustomed to the growling of his voice.
Finally, one day the prisoner, who seemed to be in an unusually cheerful
frame of mind, indicated that he carried in his breast some object which
he wished us to see.
With our assistance he pulled out a book!
Actually, it was a book, not very unlike the books which we have upon
the earth, but printed, of course, in characters that were entirely
strange and unknown to us. Yet these characters evidently gave
expression to a highly intellectual language. All those who were
standing by at the moment uttered a shout of wonder and of delight, and
the cry of "a book! a book!" ran around the circle, and the good news
was even promptly communicated to some of the neighboring electric ships
of the squadron. Several other learned men were summoned in haste from
them to examine our new treasure.
[Illustration: _Actually, it was a book that the prisoner produced, and
then he proceeded to teach us, as well as he could, several words of his
language._]
The Martian, whose good nature had manifestly been growing day after
day, watched our inspection of his book with evidences of great
interest, not unmingled with amusement. Finally he beckoned the holder
of the book to his side, and placing his broad finger upon one of the
huge letters--if letters they were, for they more nearly resembled the
characters employed by the Chinese printer--he uttered a sound which we,
of course, took to be a word, but which was different from any we had
yet heard. Then he pointed to one after another of us standing around.
"Ah," explained everybody, the truth being apparent, "that is the word
by which the Martians designate us. They have a name, then, for the
inhabitants of the earth."
"Or, perhaps, it is rather the name for the earth itself," said one.
But this could not, of course, be at once determined. Anyhow, the word,
whatever its precise meaning might be, had now been added to our
vocabulary, although as yet our organs of speech proved unable to
reproduce it in a recognizable form.
This promising and unexpected discovery of the Martian's book lent added
enthusiasm to those who were engaged in the work of trying to master the
language of our prisoner, and the progress that they made in the course
of the next few days was truly astonishing. If the prisoner had been
unwilling to aid them, of course, it would have been impossible to
proceed, but, fortunately for us, he seemed more and more to enter into
the spirit of the undertaking, and actually to enjoy it himself. So
bright and quick was his understanding that he was even able to indicate
to us methods of mastering his language that would otherwise, probably,
never have occurred to our minds.
In fact, in a very short time he had turned teacher and all these
learned men, pressing around him with eager attention, had become his
pupils.
I cannot undertake to say precisely how much of the Martian language had
been acquired by the chief linguists of the expedition before the time
when we arrived so near to Mars that it became necessary for most of us
to abandon our studies in order to make ready for the more serious
business which now confronted us.
But, at any rate, the acquisition was so considerable as to allow of the
interchange of ordinary ideas with our prisoner, and there was no longer
any doubt that he would be able to give us much information when we
landed on his native planet.
At the end of twenty-three days as measured by terrestrial time, since
our departure from the asteroid, we arrived in the sky of Mars.
For a long time the ruddy planet had been growing larger and more
formidable, gradually turning from a huge star into a great red moon,
and then expanding more and more until it began to shut out from sight
the constellations behind it. The curious markings on its surface, which
from the earth can only be dimly glimpsed with a powerful telescope,
began to reveal themselves clearly to our naked eyes.
I have related how even before we had reached the asteroid, Mars began
to present a most imposing appearance as we saw it with our telescopes.
Now, however, that it was close at hand, the naked eye view of the
planet was more wonderful than anything we had been able to see with
telescopes when at a greater distance.
We were approaching the southern hemisphere of Mars in about latitude 45
degrees south. It was near the time of the vernal equinox in that
hemisphere of the planet, and under the stimulating influence of the
spring sun, rising higher and higher every day, some such awakening of
life and activity upon its surface as occurs on the earth under similar
circumstances was evidently going on.
Around the South Pole were spread immense fields of snow and ice,
gleaming with great brilliance. Cutting deep into the borders of these
ice-fields, we could see broad channels of open water, indicating the
rapid breaking of the grip of the frost.
Almost directly beneath us was a broad oval region, light red in color,
to which terrestrial astronomers had given the name of Hellas. Toward
the south, between Hellas and the borders of the polar ice, was a great
belt of darkness that astronomers had always been inclined to regard as
a sea. Looking toward the north, we could perceive the immense red
expanses of the continent of Mars, with the long curved line of the
Syrtis Major, or "The Hour-glass Sea," sweeping through the midst of
them toward the north until it disappeared under the horizon.
Crossing and recrossing the red continent, in every direction, were the
canals of Schiaparelli.
Plentifully sprinkled over the surface we could see brilliant points,
some of dazzling brightness, outshining the daylight. There was also an
astonishing variety in the colors of the broad expanses beneath us.
Activity, vivacity and beauty, such as we were utterly unprepared to
behold, expressed their presence on all sides.
The excitement on the flagship and among the other members of the
squadron was immense. It was certainly a thrilling scene. Here, right
under our feet, lay the world we had come to do battle with. Its
appearances, while recalling in some of their broader aspects those
which it had presented when viewed from our observatories, were far more
strange, complex and wonderful than any astronomer had ever dreamed.
Suppose all of our anticipations about Mars should prove to have been
wrong, after all?
There could be no longer any question that it was a world which, if not
absolutely teeming with inhabitants, like a gigantic ant-hill, at any
rate bore on every side the marks of their presence and of their
incredible undertakings and achievements.
Here and there clouds of smoke arose and spread slowly through the
atmosphere beneath us. Floating higher above the surface of the planet
were clouds of vapor, assuming the familiar forms of stratus and cumulus
with which we were acquainted upon the earth.
These clouds, however, seemed upon the whole to be much less dense than
those to which we were accustomed at home. They had, too, a peculiar
iridescent beauty as if there was something in their composition or
their texture which split up the chromatic elements of the sunlight and
thus produced internal rainbow effects that caused some of the heavier
cloud masses to resemble immense collections of opals, alive with the
play of ever-changing colors and magically suspended above the planet.
As we continued to study the phenomena that was gradually unfolded
beneath us we thought we could detect in many places evidences of the
existence of strong fortifications. The planet of war appeared to be
prepared for the attacks of enemies. Since, as our own experience had
shown, it sometimes waged war with distant planets, it was but natural
that it should be found prepared to resist foes who might be disposed to
revenge themselves for injuries suffered at its hands.
As had been expected, our prisoner now proved to be of very great
assistance to us. Apparently he took a certain pride in exhibiting to
strangers from a distant world the beauties and wonders of his own
planet.
We could not understand by any means all that he said, but we could
readily comprehend, from his gestures, and from the manner in which his
features lighted up at the recognition of familiar scenes and objects,
what his sentiments in regard to them were, and, in a general way, what
part they played in the life of the planet.
He confirmed our opinion that certain of the works which we saw beneath
us were fortifications, intended for the protection of the planet
against invaders from outer space. A cunning and almost diabolical look
came into his eyes as he pointed to one of these strongholds.
His confidence and his mocking looks were not reassuring to us. He knew
what his planet was capable of, and we did not. He had seen, on the
asteroid, the extent of our power, and while its display served to
intimidate him there, yet now that he and we together were facing the
world of his birth, his fear had evidently fallen from him, and he had
the manner of one who feels that the shield of an all-powerful protector
had been extended over him.
But it could not be long now before we could ascertain, by the
irrevocable test of actual experience, whether the Martians possessed
the power to annihilate us or not.
How shall I describe our feelings as we gazed at the scene spread
beneath us? They were not quite the same as those of the discoverer of
new lands upon the earth. This was a whole new world that we had
discovered, and it was filled, as we could see, with inhabitants.
But that was not all. We had not come with peaceful intentions.
We were to make war on this new world.
Deducting our losses we had not more than 940 men left. With these we
were to undertake the conquest of a world containing we could not say
how many millions!
Our enemies, instead of being below us in the scale of intelligence
were, we had every reason to believe, greatly our superiors. They had
proved that they possessed a command over the powers of nature such as
we, up to the time when Mr. Edison made his inventions, had not even
dreamed that it was possible for us to obtain.
It was true that at present we appeared to have the advantage, both in
our electrical ships and in our means of offense. The disintegrator was
at least as powerful an engine of destruction as any that the Martians
had yet shown that they possessed. It did not seem that in that respect
they could possibly excel us.
During the brief war with the Martians upon the earth it had been
gunpowder against a mysterious force as much stronger than gunpowder as
the latter was superior to the bows and arrows that preceded it.
There had been no comparison whatever between the offensive means
employed by the two parties in the struggle on the earth.
But the genius of one man had suddenly put us on the level of our
enemies in regard to fighting capacity.
Then, too, our electrical ships were far more effective for their
purpose than the projectile cars used by the Martians. In fact, the
principle upon which they were based was, at bottom, so simple that it
seemed astonishing the Martians had not hit upon it.
Mr. Edison himself was never tired of saying in reference to this
matter:
"I cannot understand why the Martians did not invent these things. They
have given ample proof that they understand electricity better than we
do. Why should they have resorted to the comparatively awkward and
bungling means of getting from one planet to another that they have
employed when they might have ridden through the solar system in such
conveyances as ours with perfect ease?"
"And besides," Mr. Edison would add, "I cannot understand why they did
not employ the principle of harmonic vibrations in the construction of
their engines of war. The lightning-like strokes which they dealt from
their machines are no doubt equally powerful, but I think the range of
destruction covered by the disintegrators is greater."
However, these questions must remain open until we could effect a
landing on Mars, and learn something of the condition of things there.
The thing that gave us the most uneasiness was the fact that we did not
yet know what powers the Martians might have in reserve. It was but
natural to suppose that here, on their own ground, they would possess
means of defense even more effective than the offensive engines they had
employed in attacking enemies so many millions of miles from home.
It was important that we should waste no time, and it was equally
important that we should select the most vulnerable point for attack. It
was self-evident, therefore, that our first duty would be to reconnoiter
the surface of the planet and determine its weakest point of defense.
At first Mr. Edison contemplated sending the various ships in different
directions around the planet in order that the work of exploration might
be quickly accomplished. But upon second thought it seemed wiser to keep
the squadron together, thus diminishing the chance of disaster.
Besides, the commander wished to see with his own eyes the exact
situation of the various parts of the planet, where it might appear
advisable for us to begin our assault.
Thus far we had remained suspended at so great a height above the planet
that we had hardly entered into the perceptible limits of its atmosphere
and there was no evidence that we had been seen by the inhabitants of
Mars; but before starting on our voyage of exploration it was determined
to drop down closer to the surface in order that we might the more
certainly identify the localities over which we passed.
This maneuver nearly got us into serious trouble.
When we had arrived within a distance of three miles from the surface of
Mars we suddenly perceived approaching from the eastward a large airship
which was navigating the Martian atmosphere at a height of perhaps half
a mile above the ground.
[Illustration: _When we arrived within a distance of three miles
from the surface of Mars we suddenly perceived approaching from the
eastward a large airship, which was navigating the Martian atmosphere at
a height of perhaps half a mile above the ground._]
This airship moved rapidly on to a point nearly beneath us, when it
suddenly paused, reversed its course, and evidently made signals, the
purpose of which was not at first evident to us.
But in a short time their meaning became perfectly plain, when we found
ourselves surrounded by at least twenty similar aerostats approaching
swiftly from different sides.
It was a great mystery to us where so many airships had been concealed
previous to their sudden appearance in answer to the signals.
But the mystery was quickly solved when we saw detaching itself from the
surface of the planet beneath us, where, while it remained immovable,
its color had blended with that of the soil so as to render it
invisible, another of the mysterious ships.
Then our startled eyes beheld on all sides these formidable-looking
enemies rising from the ground beneath us like so many gigantic insects,
disturbed by a sudden alarm.
In a short time the atmosphere a mile or two below us, and to a distance
of perhaps twenty miles around in every direction, was alive with
airships of various sizes, and some of most extraordinary forms,
exchanging signals, rushing to and fro, but all finally concentrating
beneath the place where our squadron was suspended.
We had poked the hornet's nest with a vengeance!
As yet there had been no sting, but we might quickly expect to feel it
if we did not get out of range.
Quickly instructions were flashed to the squadrons to rise as rapidly as
possible to a great height.
It was evident that this maneuver would save us from danger if it were
quickly effected, because the airships of the Martians were simply
airships and nothing more. They could only float in the atmosphere, and
had no means of rising above it, or of navigating empty space.
To have turned our disintegrators upon them, and to have begun a battle
then and there, would have been folly.
They overwhelmingly outnumbered us, the majority of them were yet at a
considerable distance and we could not have done battle, even with our
entire squadron acting together, with more than one-quarter of them
simultaneously. In the meantime the others would have surrounded and
might have destroyed us. We must first get some idea of the planet's
means of defence before we ventured to assail it.
Having risen rapidly to a height of twenty-five or thirty miles, so that
we could feel confident that our ships had vanished at least from the
naked eye view of our enemies beneath, a brief consultation was held.
It was determined to adhere to our original program and to
circumnavigate Mars in every direction before proceeding to open the
war.
The overwhelming forces shown by the enemy had intimidated even some of
the most courageous of our men, but still it was universally felt that
it would not do to retreat without a blow struck.
The more we saw of the power of the Martians, the more we became
convinced that there would be no hope for the earth, if these enemies
ever again effected a landing upon its surface, the more especially
since our squadron contained nearly all of the earth's force that would
be effective in such a contest.
With Mr. Edison and the other men of science away, they would not be
able at home to construct such engines as we possessed, or to manage
them even if they were constructed.
Our planet had staked everything on a single throw.
These considerations again steeled our hearts, and made us bear up as
bravely as possible in the face of the terrible odds that confronted us.
Turning the noses of our electrical ships toward the west, we began our
circumnavigation.