which came over Professor Palmer’s countenance as he swung the port wide
open and eagerly inhaled the outside atmosphere.
“It’s all right,” he cried. “The regular stuff! Come on and enjoy some
fresh, Martian desert air.”
Robert and Taggert did not need to be urged. The air within the _Sphere_
seemed suddenly to have grown unbearably stale. With one accord they
opened the other ports and filled their lungs with the sweet, cold air
outside.
“We’ll have to close up again to keep warm tonight,” shivered Taggert.
“Thirty-four degrees above zero,” read Robert from the Fahrenheit
thermometer outside.
“The air on these deserts cools very rapidly after twilight,” said the
professor. “Even in the Sahara, on our own globe, the temperature
frequently drops below freezing at night. However, the temperature in
the canal belts should be more uniform.”
“Let’s get outside and look around a bit,” suggested Robert.
“Good idea,” echoed the reporter. “I’d like to see what some of these
oafs look like.”
“Not likely to be any of them strolling around in the desert at night,”
said Robert.
“Can’t tell; I’ll bet they didn’t fail to see the _Sphere_ when we slid
over here. We’re likely to have an army down on us tonight.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Professor Palmer. “The Martians are
obviously a people of much intelligence. I expect they will act just
about as our own people would, should some curious machine land upon the
Earth. They will probably wait till daylight, then come out and satisfy
their curiosity.”
“And ours,” added Robert, remembering his dream.
As they stepped out upon the sand, buttoned into warm coats, a brilliant
spectacle was presented to their gaze.
Low in the southeast Phobus hung like a glowing orange. Its now
apparently smooth, bright disk was a decided contrast to the dark,
threatening, cavernous face which had frightened them but a few hours
earlier. All round them the indigo sky was studded with stars of the
great brilliance that is reserved for travelers of the deserts. Behind
them the comfortable flood of illumination from the _Sphere_ spread its
friendly radiance over the sand.
“Look over there!” cried Taggert suddenly, pointing toward the east.
Far away on the horizon’s edge a diffused white glow shone steadily.
“A city,” guessed Robert quickly.
“A group of cities--a Martian oasis,” suggested the professor.
“Why, there are some lights along the canal, too,” said Robert, becoming
aware of a number of lights stretching along the endless strip of
fertile land to the south of them.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” cried Taggert. “Say, let’s run over to town
tonight!”
But however sanguine the professor might have been regarding the
existence of an intelligent race upon the planet, he balked at a
precipitate invasion of their haunts right then. So it was decided to
wait till morning for developments.
* * * * *
The lantern which Robert carried was almost superfluous in the bright
starlight. They enjoyed the novelty of trudging about through the sand,
after their extended confinement within the _Sphere_. In spite of the
looseness and depth of the sand, they walked over it with amazing ease
because of the decreased gravity on the smaller planet. Robert, for
example, who weighed 150 pounds on earth, now weighed less than sixty
pounds. Yet he retained his full strength, so that the task of walking
was tremendously reduced.
“Run you a race, Robert,” called Taggert, starting out abruptly at a
great pace.
The temptation was too great. Robert was a good runner and reveled in
the sport. He dashed after the reporter.
His feet scarcely seemed to touch the sand as he raced after the
fleeting shadow ahead of him. With giant strides, twenty feet long, he
steadily reduced the distance between them.
Suddenly there came a dim shout ahead, followed by a dull thud--then,
silence.
Robert slowed up as quickly as possible and looked round him. The
reporter had disappeared!
Far in the rear the _Sphere_ shone brightly, like a beacon. Between it
and himself he could see the professor’s lantern bobbing up and down as
he strode along.
As he continued bewilderedly to search the sands for some sign of
Taggert, his eyes became better accustomed to the semi-darkness.
Suddenly he descried a long dark shape lying in the sand several rods
away.
He approached it cautiously, only to discover what seemed to be a large
log. But as he looked up another dark object ahead caught his eye.
Surely that looked like the figure of a man sprawled upon the sand. Even
as he looked, it moved and struggled to a sitting posture.
“Hello--that you, Taggert, old fellow?” he sang out, approaching.
“It’s me all right,” came Taggert’s voice, weakly.
“What happened to you?”
“Fell over that dashed boulder back there. About knocked the wind out of
me. I must have been going about forty miles an hour,” he explained,
getting to his feet with Robert’s assistance.
“What are you two up to?” cried Professor Palmer, coming up with them.
“Our stowaway just tried to break his neck over a log back there.”
“A log?” incredulously from the now recovered reporter. “Say, this is a
desert, not a jungle! That was a rock I fell over.”
They walked over to the object of their discussion, and examined it in
the rays of the lantern.
“A petrified log,” pronounced Professor Palmer.
“Well, who brought it out here?”--belligerently.
“It grew here many centuries ago, my boy. This is a relic of a dead
forest, of which we are probably on the edge. See, there are others
scattered about over that way. I have seen the same thing out in
Arizona.”
Their discussion ended, they decided to go back to the _Sphere_ and get
a good night’s rest.
“Suppose some of these oafs have taken possession during our absence,”
suggested Taggert, persisting still in so calling the as yet unseen
Martians.
“If it hadn’t been for you young scamps it wouldn’t have been left
unguarded,” retorted Professor Palmer.
But they found the _Sphere_ as they had left it, and no one in sight.
* * * * *
With lights out for greater safety, they spent a quiet night. All three
were up again with the dawn.
The warm sunshine streamed in at the windows cheerfully. Soon the
thermometer on the shady side registered forty-one degrees and was
rising rapidly. It had dropped to twenty-five the night before when they
retired.
An appetizing breakfast was prepared by Taggert, who had insisted upon
being the official cook. The keen Martian air and a good night’s rest
had brought them all ravenous appetites, and they did the simple repast
full justice.
“Come to think about it,” mused Taggert, “the night passed mighty
quickly. Professor, how long are the nights and days on Mars?”
“The night seemed to pass quickly because you slept soundly. It happens
that a Martian night and day together consume just about twenty-four
hours and forty minutes, our time. In other words, by an odd
coincidence, Martian days and nights are each approximately but twenty
minutes longer than those of the Earth.”
The professor’s last words were interrupted by Robert’s abruptly rising
to his feet and pointing mutely out the window!
12
Moving swiftly toward them, about a quarter of a mile away, was a large
conveyance which appeared to be occupied by about ten beings.
“Sink me, but these birds are certainly early risers,” grumbled Taggert.
“Seems to me they might let us finish breakfast before calling. They’re
no gentlemen, I say.”
Professor Palmer was eagerly studying them through binoculars.
“Just as I suspected,” he murmured presently. “They have features just
like our own, and seem to be of nearly the same stature as ourselves.
Let’s get ready to welcome them, boys. They don’t look like pirates.”
He put down the glasses and turned just in time to see Taggert
concealing an automatic on his person. Evidently the reporter didn’t
entirely share the professor’s faith in the Martians.
A few minutes later the conveyance drew up without. It came to a stop
noiselessly, as though it were electrically propelled. Several of the
dark-garbed occupants got out and walked toward the _Sphere_, removing
their odd hats, which looked not unlike broad-brimmed tropical helmets.
Professor Palmer’s prediction proved correct. They were of ordinary
human formation, and, indeed, looked much like a group of intelligent
foreigners, with their olive skin and dark hair, though they were
somewhat shorter in stature, averaging about five feet four inches in
height.
Their clothing was simple, and evidently designed for comfort. All wore
roomy, dark trousers, bound at the ankles, and small coats to match, not
unlike vests with sleeves. Under these a lighter-hued blouse was worn.
Neat but styleless shoes, with uppers that appeared to be finely woven
grasses, clad their small feet. There was a total absence of bright
color about their apparel, neutral shades of blue, gray and maroon
predominating.
Professor Palmer opened one of the ports and leaned out. His appearance
caused a brief flurry among their visitor, proving a signal for some
hurried conversation, accompanied by excited gestures.
Then one of them walked forward and addressed him in a pleasant, soft,
rolling tongue not unlike Spanish, but entirely unintelligible to the
professor.
Professor Palmer answered by pointing obliquely upward in the general
direction of the Earth at that time. Then he tapped the _Sphere_
significantly, and indicated an imaginary course from the Earth above
back down to Mars with a slow sweep of his hand.
His audience seemed to grasp the fact that the _Sphere_ had come from a
distant planet. In fact, it appeared that he had but confirmed some
previous guess on their part. They nodded knowingly to each other as
their spokesman resumed his own gesticulations in an effort to
communicate with the professor, smiling in a friendly fashion and
rubbing his Roman nose with a trace of self-consciousness as he
proceeded to invite them, with elaborate gestures, to visit their
country beyond.
His companions also pointed repeatedly toward the foliage in the
distance, and to vacant seats in their vehicle.
“What do you think, boys?” asked the professor, turning to Robert and
Taggert. “How about boosting the _Sphere_ over there? That will be
better than leaving it out here where we can’t keep an eye on it.”
“Suits me,” Robert replied.
“That’s the stuff,” said Taggert. “Don’t let these dagos separate you
from your return trip if you can help it.”
So with more gestures Professor Palmer explained their intentions to the
Martians, who finally understood apparently and seemed satisfied.
By careful manipulation of the speed of the gyrostats and the disk
shutters, Robert raised the _Sphere_ slowly to a height of about fifty
feet. The Martians looked on in wonder from their conveyance, which,
getting under way, preceded them across the floor of the desert.
The broad, flat wheels of this conveyance, notched to give greater
traction, carried it over the sand at a good clip. Steering seemed to be
controlled by an automatic dial-and-lever device, operated easily by the
driver with one hand. The usual staggering of the front wheels through
loose soil seemed entirely eliminated.
Contrary to their original impression, the floor of the desert in this
direction was a stony, windswept waste with much bare rock visible. The
faces of these rocks were polished by grains of sand blown across them
by the winds of centuries. Here and there was one with fractured and
crumbling surface, probably cracked by the rapid, alternate heating and
chilling of the blazing rays of the sun and the cold nights, and not yet
healed.
As the _Sphere_ drew near the fertile land, they observed that it was
densely wooded with trees of varied height and foliage. From their close
proximity to the ground it looked like a vast, boundless forest which
might extend many miles beyond.
Professor Palmer had estimated the usual width of these irrigated strips
at from one to several miles, though he had mentioned observing one of
nearly twenty miles in width.
At the forest’s edge Robert brought the _Sphere_ to rest
Here they were in a quandary as to what to do about the _Sphere_. It was
obvious that they could not study the life of the planet without leaving
the _Sphere_. Yet they were naturally reluctant to trust it unguarded
into the hands of these strange inhabitants.
“But we have already risked far more in our journey through space,”
reasoned Robert. “We put ourselves in these people’s hands by coming
here; now I suppose we may as well trust them. We could not expect a
Martian, coming to the Earth as we have come to Mars, to drag his
‘_Sphere_’ after him everywhere he went.”
“Look here,” Taggert interjected, “I horned my way into this expedition
uninvited. Now let me do something useful. I’ll stay here with the
_Sphere_ until you can make some satisfactory arrangement for its safe
keeping.”
“That may take several days, or more,” objected Robert.
“Well, what of it? Plenty to eat here. Just run along and leave it to
little Hughie. I’ll stay on deck until you return or send me a written
order; and I’ll feel a lot better about having done my bit.”
So it was finally agreed that Taggert remain on guard while Robert and
the Professor went on to make suitable arrangements, if possible, with
the authorities. They shook hands with the reporter and left him calmly
smoking an atrocious pipe which he had not ventured to put in action
during their long trip with sealed windows. He seemed genuinely
comfortable and well pleased with his lot. Robert and the professor took
seats in the waiting conveyance, which carried them over a winding road
through the forest.
Professor Palmer recognized and pointed out to Robert certain varieties
of trees and shrubbery resembling the tamarisk, acacia and eucalyptus,
prickly pear and aspen poplar. The latter variety, which was singularly
like the earthly specimen, predominated, and seemed to flourish
luxuriantly in the loose, sandy soil.
“Not so bad,” said Robert, sniffing the sweet, clean air.
“A very healthful climate, indeed,” commented the professor.
Their evident satisfaction was observed with smiles and nods by their
hosts, who were watching them closely.
* * * * *
They had probably passed through a mile of the great forest when they
emerged into a large, rectangular clearing.
“Why, there’s a railroad!” cried Robert excitedly, pointing to what
looked very like a double line of tracks running through the center of
the long clearing.
A moment later Robert’s statement was proved to be true, for their
conveyance was brought to a stop beside the rails, where a small but
well built wooden structure apparently served as a crude station.
At the invitation of the Martians they got out, declining, however, the
suggestion of entering the waiting room of the building. They preferred
to examine first the wonders of their strange outdoor surroundings. The
Martians gathered about and proceeded to study them with poorly
concealed curiosity. Yet at all times their attitude toward the
adventurers was solicitous and courteous. To Robert they seemed more and
more like a delegation of learned experts sent to observe their every
move and thought as closely as possible.
About the clearing stood a number of plain buildings of goodly size,
with numerous windows. Several Martians in rough garb, including the
loose trousers and blouse, but without the odd coats or hats worn by the
first Martians, busied themselves about these buildings. In the distance
there were sounds of chopping, and an occasional resounding thud, as
from a tree felled. They seemed to be in a lumber camp, and this
conjecture was later confirmed. They were standing then in the heart of
one of the planet’s greatest forest regions.
Presently Robert became aware of a humming sound. Looking about quickly,
he failed at first to see from whence it came. Then he discovered for
the first time the great distance that it was possible to see in either
direction along the railroad, because of its striking straightness. Mile
after mile it ran straight as an arrow through a veritable tunnel of
trees.
In the distance he descried a swiftly moving speck on the madder-colored
ribbon of roadbed. It grew rapidly larger, evidently nearing them at a
tremendous rate. A minute later a Martian train, drawn by a squat
engine, ground to a stop before the station. Like the conveyance which
had met them, it seemed electrically driven. Only one man was visible in
the engine cab. Robert counted eight coaches, each about sixty feet
long.
Their guides conducted them to the back coach, which they entered at one
end. This coach differed considerably from the rest, for while the
others were built with compartments similar to English coaches, this one
was not unlike one of our own observation cars. It was unoccupied. They
found out afterward that their guides composed a special committee which
had arranged for this car in their guests’ honor, the _Sphere’s_
approach having been discovered and observed closely by Martian
astronomers as it neared the planet. Every effort and provision had been
made to find and meet its expected inmates promptly, and with every
consideration for their comfort.
They were scarcely aboard before the train was moving. Without a jar the
luxurious coach slipped away from the little station, gathering momentum
rapidly. A minute later the station dwindled and was lost from view
behind them down the shrinking avenue of trees which whirled past them
dizzily.
“Just like greased lightning,” said Robert.
It was evident that the owl-eyed committee of Martians were eager to
establish some code of communication by means of signs with their
guests, but observing their desire to study the changing landscape they
politely refrained. One of the Martians, however, evinced considerable
curiosity over Robert’s watch chain, whereupon Robert displayed his
watch. Not to be outdone, the Martian pulled out a small, flat mechanism
about an inch and a half square. A glance at this object convinced
Robert that he was looking at a Martian watch.
The indicating scheme was essentially the same as our own method. There
was a small dial in the center, with sixteen curious numerals round its
edge. The hands, of the same length, but of contrasting colors,
apparently indicated the time, while in the upper corners were
changeable numerals, probably showing what corresponded to the Martian
month and day of the month. The lower corners were not utilized, but
were simply decorated with some artistic scrolls. A third, but shorter
hand, also connected to the central dial, revolving rapidly with a
familiar ticking sound, probably corresponded to the second-hand on our
own watches, but it was more like the long hand on a split-second
stop-watch.
The case of Robert’s watch seemed to interest the Martians no less than
its mechanism. The watch was an old one of the bulky type which had
belonged to Robert’s father. The heavy case was of solid silver. From
their exclamations, as they examined the silver case, Robert judged that
they prized silver highly as a precious metal.
By this time the character of the country had changed. No longer were
they surrounded by the fragrant forest. Vast, level, green fields
stretched on either side, while in the distance the equally flat desert
was visible at times.
* * * * *
The speed of the train began diminishing until it came to a stop beside
another small station. Here they got their first view of one of the
great canals or ducts upon which the plant life and the lives of every
being on Mars depended.
About a hundred yards beyond the station a gang of two hundred or more
men were at work in and around a deep excavation, aided by several huge
digging machines. All were clad in rough garments of a dull maroon
color, which Robert soon learned was as common a color on Mars as our
own khaki is to us.
But it was not the Martians which attracted Robert’s and Professor
Palmer’s chief attention. A giant cylinder lay partly exposed within the
excavation, its ends disappearing into the soil at either end. In
diameter it was at least seventy-five feet. It appeared to be of
cementlike construction.
At intervals of perhaps fifty yards along its length, smaller tubes
branched off and were lost in the sides of the ditch. Where one of these
branches joined the main line, a swarm of workmen struggled valiantly to
mend a break from which the water gushed as if under heavy pressure.
The scurrying Martians had checked the leak perceptibly by the time the
train started again after a minute’s wait.
A few minutes later they flashed by an immense structure situated near
the tracks, looking like a great power plant of some kind. However, it
reared no stacks to the sky. For miles at either end of it stretched a
vast, flat expanse of some curious construction, which in the distance
looked like a great, elongated checker-board.
“A Martian pumping station,” hazarded Robert.
“I believe you’ve struck it,” said Professor Palmer. “And I believe the
big ‘checker-board’ is nothing more nor less than a device for absorbing
power from the sun’s rays. That alone would explain the Martians’
remarkable achievements in the face of the unquestionable dwindling,
perhaps complete exhaustion, of the planet’s fuel supply.”
“How old do you suppose Mars is!” asked Robert.
“That’s a hard one; but the various planets are classified according to
stages. There is the sun stage, in which the planet is hot enough to
emit light. This is followed by the molten stage--hot, but lightless.
Then comes the solidifying stage, with the formation of solid surfaces
and ocean basins. The next stage is what we call the terraqueous stage,
the age of sedimentary rocks. Our Earth is in this stage. Following this
is the terrestrial stage, in which the oceans have disappeared, and,
after that the dead stage, when air has departed. Mars is in the
terrestrial stage, the stage following that of our planet, and preceding
the dead, or final stage.”
“Then the Martians are engaged in a constant struggle against
extinction!”
“They are, though, with their marvelous ingenuity, they may last a few
thousand years longer. But we are witnesses of the waning of a world.”
They were now passing through a fertile farming region. Small buildings
dotted the landscape, while here and there Martian farmers were
diligently at work in their fields. There was a complete absence,
however, of any beast of burden or toil. Everywhere power seemed to be
furnished electrically. Farmers could be seen plowing with large,
powerful tractors.
Frequently they caught glimpses of the checker-board devices adjoining
the buildings, but on a much smaller scale than the one they had first
seen. Quite likely, they decided, these were individual sun-power
plants.
With the increasing frequency of houses, Robert and the professor became
convinced that they were nearing a center of population. Their interest
was keyed to the highest pitch as the agricultural district gave way to
the outskirts of a Martian city.
The more Robert saw, the greater was his surprize at the striking
similarity of things to those on Earth. Yet, on second thought, this did
not seem so strange. After all, it was to be expected that the chief
inventions of two such advanced worlds should, in the main, be similar.
He might easily have imagined himself approaching some foreign
metropolis.
One thing that they noticed particularly was the absence of the dirt and
squalor which one so frequently sees from the train when approaching our
large industrial centers. Buildings all seemed of substantial
construction and everywhere were in excellent condition.
Now, beyond the buildings in the foreground they could see the tops of
giant structures in the distance, their great white walls showing
resplendent in the clean atmosphere and bright sunlight. It was certain
that they were entering a very large city. They afterward learned that
this city, called Parang, was next to the largest one on Mars, having a
population more than four million souls.
* * * * *