Across the Zodiac (10 page)

My path now wound steadily downward at a slope of perhaps one in eight
along the hillside, obliging me to turn my back to the mountains,
while my view in front was cut off by a sharp cross-jutting ridge
immediately, before me. By the time I turned this, all my birds had
deserted me, and I was not, I think, more than 2000 feet from the
valley below. Just before reaching this point I first caught sight of
a Martial animal. A little creature, not much bigger than a rabbit,
itself of a sort of sandy-yellow colour, bounded from among some
yellow herbage by my feet, and hopped or sprang in the manner of a
kangaroo down the steep slope on my left. When I turned the ridge, a
wide and quite new landscape burst upon my sight. I was looking upon
an extensive plain, the continuation apparently of a valley of which
the mountain range formed the southern limit. To the southward this
plain was bounded by the sea, bathed in the peculiar light I have
tried to describe, and lying in what seemed from this distance a
glassy calm. To eastward and northward the plain extended to the
horizon, and doubtless far beyond it; while from the valley north of
the mountain range emerged a broad river, winding through the plain
till it was lost at the horizon. Plain I have called it, but I do not
mean to imply that it was by any means level. On the contrary, its
surface was broken by undulations, and here and there by hills, but
all so much lower than the point on which I stood that the general
effect was that of an almost flat surface. And now the question of
habitation, and of human habitation, seemed to be solved. Looking
through my field-glass, I saw, following the windings of the river,
what must surely be a road; serving also, perhaps, as an embankment,
since it was raised many feet above the level of the stream. It
seemed, too, that the plain was cultivated. Everywhere appeared
extensive patches, each of a single colour, in every tint between deep
red and yellowish green, and so distinctly rectangular in form as
irresistibly to suggest the idea of artificial, if not human,
arrangement. But there were other features of the scene that dispelled
all doubt upon this point. Immediately to the south-eastward, and
about twenty miles from where I stood, a deep arm of the sea ran up
into the land, and upon the shores of this lay what was unquestionably
a city. It had nothing that looked like fortifications, and even at
this distance I could discern that its streets were of remarkable
width, with few or no buildings so high as mosques, churches,
State-offices, or palaces in Tellurian cities. Their colours were most
various and brilliant, as if reflected from metallic surfaces; and on
the waters of the bay itself rode what I could not doubt to be ships
or rafts. More immediately beneath me, and scattered at intervals over
the entire plain, clustering more closely in the vicinity of the city,
were walled enclosures, and in the centre of each was what could
hardly be anything but a house, though not apparently more than twelve
or fourteen feet high, and covering a space sufficient for an European
or even American street or square. Upon the lower slopes of the hill
whereon I stood were moving figures, which, seen through the
binocular, proved to be animals; probably domestic animals, since they
never ranged very far, and presented none of those signs of
watchfulness and alarm which are peculiar to creatures not protected
by man from their less destructive enemies, and taught to lay aside
their dread of man himself. I had descended, then, not only into an
inhabited world—not only into a world of men, who, however they might
differ in outward form, must resemble in their wants, ideas, and
habits, in short, in mind if not in body, the lords of my own
planet—but into a civilised world and among a race living under a
settled order, cultivating the soil, and taming the brutes to their
service.

And now, as I came on lower ground, I found at each step new objects
of curiosity and interest. A tree with dark-yellowish leaves, taller
than most timber trees on Earth, bore at the end of drooping twigs
large dark-red fruits—fruits with a rind something like that of a
pomegranate, save for the colour and hardness, and about the size of a
shaddock or melon. One of these, just within reach of my hand, I
gathered, but found it impossible to break the thin, dry rind or
shell, without the aid of a knife. Having pierced this, a stream of
red juice gushed out, which had a sweet taste and a strong flavour,
not unlike the juice expressed from cherries, but darker in colour.
Dissecting the fruit completely, I found it parted by a membrane,
essentially of the same nature as the rind, but much thinner and
rather tough than hard, into sixteen segments, like those of an orange
divided across the middle, each of which enclosed a seed. These seeds
were all joined at the centre, but easily separated. They were of a
yellow colour and about as large as an almond kernel. Some fruits
that, being smaller, I concluded to be less ripe, were of a
reddish-yellow. After walking for about a mile through a grove of such
trees, always tending downwards, I came to another of more varied
character. The most prevalent tree here was of lower stature and with
leaves of great length and comparatively narrow, the fruit of which,
though protected by a somewhat similar rind, was of rich golden
colour, not so easily seen among the yellowish leaves, and contained
one solid kernel of about the size of an almond, enclosed entirely in
a sort of spongy material, very palatable to the taste, and resembling
more the inside of roasted maize than any other familiar vegetable. As
I emerged entirely from the grove, I came upon a ditch about twice as
broad as deep. On Earth I certainly could not have leaped it; but
since landing on Mars, I had forgotten the weightless life of the
Astronaut, and felt as if on Earth, but enjoying great increase of
strength and energy; and with these sensations had come instinctively
an exalted confidence in my physical powers. I took, therefore, a
vigorous run, and leaping with all my strength, landed, somewhat to my
own surprise, a full yard on the other side of the ditch.

Having done so, I found myself in what was beyond doubt a cultivated
field, producing nothing but one crimson-coloured plant, about a foot
in height. This carpeted the soil with broad leaves shaped something
like those of the laurel, and in colour exactly resembling a withered
laurel leaf, but somewhat thicker, more metallic and brighter in
appearance, and perfectly free from the bitter taste of the bay tribe.
At a little distance I saw half-a-dozen animals somewhat resembling
antelopes, but on a second glance still more resembling the fabled
unicorn. They were like the latter, at all events, in the single
particular from which it derived its name: they had one horn, about
eight inches in length, intensely sharp, smooth and firm in texture as
ivory, but marbled with vermilion and cream white. Their skins were
cream-coloured, dappled with dark red. Their ears were large and
protected by a lap which fell down so as to shelter the interior part
of the organ, but which they had not quite lost the power to erect at
the approach of a sound that startled them. They looked up at me, at
first without alarm, afterwards with some surprise, and presently
bounded away; as if my appearance, at first familiar, had, on a closer
examination, presented some unusual particulars, frightening them, as
everything unusual frightens even those domestic animals on Earth best
acquainted with man and most accustomed to his caprices. I noticed
that all were female, and their abnormally large udders suggested that
they were domestic creatures kept for their milk. Not being able to
see a path through the field, I went straight forward, endeavouring to
trample the pasture as little as I could, but being surprised to
remark how very little the plants had been injured by the feet of the
animals. The leaves had been grazed, but the stems were seldom or
never broken. In fact, the animals seemed to have gathered their food
as man would do, with an intelligent or instinctive care not to injure
the plant so as to deprive it of the power of reproducing their
sustenance.

In another minute I discerned the object of my paramount interest, of
whose vicinity I had thus far seen nearly every imaginable evidence
except himself. It was undoubtedly a man, but a man very much smaller
than myself. His eyes were fixed upon the ground as if in reverie, and
he did not perceive me till I had come within fifty yards of him, so
that I had full time to remark the peculiarities of his form and
appearance. He was about four feet eight or nine inches in height,
with legs that seemed short in proportion to the length and girth of
the body, but only because, as was apparent on more careful scrutiny,
the chest was proportionately both longer and wider than in our race;
otherwise he greatly resembled the fairer families of the Aryan breed,
the Swede or German. The yellow hair, unshaven beard, whiskers, and
moustache were all close and short. The dress consisted of a sort of
blouse and short pantaloons, of some soft woven fabric, and of a
vermilion colour. The head was protected from the rays of an
equatorial sun by a species of light turban, from which hung down a
short shade or veil sheltering the neck and forehead. His bare feet
were guarded by sandals of some flexible material just covering the
toes and bound round the ankle by a single thong. He carried no
weapon, not even a staff; and I therefore felt that there was no
immediate danger from him. On seeing me he started as with intense
surprise and not a little alarm, and turned to run. Size and length of
limb, however, gave me immense advantage in this respect, and in less
than a minute I had come up with and laid my hand upon him.

He looked up at me, scanning my face with earnest curiosity. I took
from my pocket first a jewel of very exquisite construction, a
butterfly of turquoise, pearl, and rubies, set on an emerald branch,
upon which he looked without admiration or interest, then a watch very
small and elaborately enamelled and jewelled. To the ornament he paid
no attention whatever; but when I opened the watch, its construction
and movement evidently interested him. Placing it in his hands and
endeavouring to signify to him by signs that he was to retain it, I
then held his arm and motioned to him to guide me towards the houses
visible in the distance. This he seemed willing to do, but before we
had gone many paces he repeated two or three times a phrase or word
which sounded like "r'mo-ah-el" ("whence-who-what" do you want?). I
shook my head; but, that he might not suppose me dumb, I answered him
in Latin. The sound seemed to astonish him exceedingly; and as I went
on to repeat several questions in the same tongue, for the purpose of
showing him that I could speak and was desirous of doing so, I
observed that his wonder grew deeper and deeper, and was evidently
mingled first with alarm and afterwards with anger, as if he thought I
was trying to impose upon him. I pointed to the sky, to the summit of
the mountain from which I had descended, and then along the course by
which I had come, explaining aloud at the same time the meaning of my
signs. I thought that he had caught the latter, but if so, it only
provoked an incredulous indignation, contempt of a somewhat angry
character being the principal expression visible in his countenance. I
saw that it was of little use to attempt further conversation for the
present, and, still holding his hand and allowing him to direct me,
looked round again at the scenes through which we were passing. The
lower hill slopes before us appeared to be divided into fields of
large extent, perhaps some 100 acres each, separated by ditches. We
followed a path about two yards broad, raised two or three inches
above the level of the ground, and paved with some kind of hard
concrete. Each ditch was crossed by a bridge of planks, in the middle
of which was a stake or short pole, round which we passed with ease,
but which would obviously baffle a four-footed animal of any size. The
crops were of great variety, and wonderfully free from weeds. Most of
them showed fruit of one kind or another, sometimes gourd-like globes
on the top of upright stalks, sometimes clusters of a sort of nut on
vines creeping along the soil, sometimes a number of pulpy fruits
about the size of an orange hanging at the end of pendulous stalks
springing from the top of a stiff reed-like stem. One field was bare,
its surface of an ochreish colour deeper than that of clay, broken and
smoothed as perfectly as the surface of the most carefully tended
flower-bed. Across this was ranged a row of birds, differing, though
where and how I had hardly leisure to observe, from the form of any
earthly fowl, about twice the size of a crow, and with beaks
apparently at least as powerful but very much longer. Extending
entirely across the field, they kept line with wonderful accuracy, and
as they marched across it, slowly and constantly dug their beaks into
the soil as if seeking grubs or worms beneath the surface. They went
on with their work perfectly undisturbed by our presence. In the next
field was a still odder sight; here grew gourd-like heads on erect
reed-like stems, and engaged in plucking the ripe purple fruit,
carefully distinguishing them from the scarlet unripened heads, were
half-a-score of creatures which, from their occupation and demeanour,
I took at first to be human; but which, as we approached nearer, I saw
were only about half the size of my companion, and thickly covered
with hair, with bushy tails, which they kept carefully erect so as not
to touch the ground; creatures much resembling monkeys in movement,
size, and length, and flexibility of limb, but in other respects more
like gigantic squirrels. They held the stalks of the fruit they
plucked in their mouths, filling with them large bags left at
intervals, and from the manner in which they worked I suspected that
they had no opposable thumbs—that the whole hand had to be used like
the paw of a squirrel to grasp an object. I pointed to these,
directing my companion's attention and asking, "What are they?"
"Ambau," he said, but apparently without the slightest interest in
their proceedings. Indeed, the regularity and entire freedom from
alarm or vigilance which characterised their movements, convinced me
that both these and the birds we passed were domesticated creatures,
whose natural instincts had been turned to such account by human
training.