Gulliver of Mars

by Edwin Lester Linden Arnold

  CHAPTER XIII

  It was half a day's march from those glittering snow-fields into thelow country, and when that was reached I found myself amongst quiteanother people.

  The land was no longer fat and flowery, giving every kind of producefor the asking, but stony for the most part, and, where we first cameon vegetation, overgrown by firs, with a pine which looked to me like aspecies which went to make the coal measures in my dear but distantplanet. More than this I cannot say, for there are no places in theworld like mess-room and quarter-deck for forgetting school learning.Instead of the glorious wealth of parti-coloured vegetation my eyes hadbeen accustomed to lately, here they rested on infertile stretches ofmarshland intersected by moss-covered gravel shoots, looking as thoughthey had been pushed into the plains in front of extinct glacierscoming down from the region behind us. On the low hills away from thesea those sombre evergreen forests with an undergrowth of moss and redlichens were more variegated with light foliage, and indeed the pinesproved to be but a fringe to the Arctic ice, giving way rapidly to moretypical Martian vegetation each mile we marched to the southward.

  As for the inhabitants, they seemed, like my guide, rough, uncouthfellows, but honest enough when you came to know them. Anintroduction, however, was highly desirable. I chanced upon the firstnative as he was gathering reindeer-moss. My companion was some littleway behind at the moment, and when the gentle aborigine saw thestranger he stared hard for a moment, then, turning on his heels, withextraordinary swiftness flung at me half a pound of hard flint stone.Had his aim been a little more careful this humble narrative had neverappeared on the Broadway bookstalls. As it was, the pebble, missing myhead by an inch or two, splintered into a hundred fragments on a rockbehind, and while I was debating whether a revengeful rush at theslinger or a strategic advance to the rear were more advisable, myguide called out to his countryman--

  "Ho! you base prowler in the morasses; you eater of unclean vegetation,do you not see this is a ghost I am conducting, a dweller in the icecliffs, a spirit ten thousand years old? Put by your sling lest hewither you with a glance." And, very reasonably, surprised, theaborigine did as he was bid and cautiously advanced to inspect me.

  The news soon spread over the countryside that my jewel-hunter wasbringing a live "spook" along with him, considerable curiosity mixedwith an awe all to my advantage characterising the people we metthereafter. Yet the wonder was not so great as might have beenexpected, for these people were accustomed to meeting the tags of lostraces, and though they stared hard, their interest was chiefly inhearing how, when, and where I had been found, whether I bit or kicked,or had any other vices, and if I possessed any commercial value.

  My guide's throat must have ached with the repetition of the narrative,but as he made the story redound greatly to his own glory, he put upcheerfully with the hoarseness. In this way, walking and talkingalternately, we travelled during daylight through a country whichslowly lost its rugged features and became more and more inhabited, thehardy people living in scattered villages in contradiction to thedebased city-loving Hither folk.

  About nightfall we came to a sea-fishers' hamlet, where, after the oldman had explained my exalted nature and venerable antiquity, I wasoffered shelter for the night.

  My host was the headman, and I must say his bearing towards thesupernatural was most unaffected. If it had been an Avenue hotel Icould not have found more handsome treatment than in that reed-thatchedhut. They made me wash and rest, and then were all agog for my history;but that I postponed, contenting myself with telling them I had beenlately in Seth, and had come thence to see them via the ice valley--toall of which they listened with the simplicity of children. AfterwardsI turned on them, and openly marvelled that so small a geographicaldistance as there was between that land and this could make so vast ahuman difference. "The truth, O dweller in blue shadows of primordialice, is," said the most intelligent of the Thither folk as we sat overfried deer-steak in his hut that evening, "we who are MEN, notPeri-zad, not overstayed fairies like those you have been amongst, arenewcomers here on this shore. We came but a few generations ago fromwhere the gold curtains of the sun lie behind the westward pine-trees,and as we came we drove, year by year, those fays, those spenttriflers, back before us. All this land was theirs once, and more andmore towards our old home. You may still see traces of harbours dugand cities built thousands of years ago, when the Hither folk wereliving men and women--not their shadows. The big water outside stops usfor a space, but," he added, laughing gruffly and taking a draught of astrong beer he had been heating by the fire, "King Ar-hap has theirpretty noses between his fingers; he takes tribute and girls while hegets ready--they say he is nearly ready this summer, and if he is, itwill not be much of an excuse he will need to lick up the last of thosetriflers, those pretences of manhood."

  Then we fell to talking of Ar-hap, his subjects and town, and I learnedthe tides had swept me a long way to the northward of the proper routebetween the capitals of the two races, that day they carried me intothe Dead-Men's Ice, as these entertainers of mine called the northernsnows. To get back to the place previously aimed at, where the woodmenroad came out on the seashore, it was necessary to go either by boat, aroundabout way through a maze of channels, "as tangled as the grassroots in autumn"; or, secondly, by a couple of days' marching duesouthward across the base of the great peninsula we were on, and sostrike blue water again at the long-sought-for harbour.

  As I lay dozing and dreaming on a pile of strange furs in the corner ofthe hut that evening I made up my mind for the land journey tomorrow,having had enough for the moment of nautical Martian adventures; andthis point settled, fell again to wondering what made me follow soreckless a quest in the way I was doing; asking myself again and againwhat was gazelle-eyed Heru to me after all, and why should it mattereven as much as the value of a brass waist-coat button whether Hath hadher or Ar-hap? What a fool I was to risk myself day by day in quaintand dangerous adventures, wearing out good Government shoe-leather inother men's quarrels, all for a silly slip of royal girlhood who, bythis time, was probably making herself comfortable and forgetting bothHath and me in the arms of her rough new lord.

  And from Heru my mind drifted back dreamily to poor An, and Seth, thecity of fallen magnificence, where the spent masters of a strangeplanet now lived on sufferance--the ghosts of their former selves.Where was An, where the revellers on the morning--so long ago itseemed!--when first that infernal rug of mine translated a chance wishinto a horrible reality and shot me down here, a stranger and anoutcast? Where was the magic rug itself? Where my steak and tomatosupper? Who had eaten it? Who was drawing my pay? If I could but findthe rug when I got back to Seth, gods! but I would try if it would notreturn whence I had come, and as swiftly, out of all these silly coilsand adventuring.

  So musing, presently the firelight died down, and bulky forms ofhide-wrapped woodmen sleeping on the floor slowly disappeared inobscurity like ranges of mountains disappearing in the darkness ofnight. All those uncouth forms, and the throb of the sea outside,presently faded upon my senses, and I slept the heavy sleep of onewhose wakefulness gives way before an imperious physical demand. Allthrough the long hours of the night, while the waves outside champedupon the gravels, and the woodmen snored and grunted uneasily as theysimultaneously dreamt of the day's hunting and digested its proceeds, Islept; and then when dawn began to break I passed from that heavystupor into another and lighter realm, wherein fancy again rosesuperior to bodily fatigue, and events of the last few days passed inprocession through my mind.

  I dreamt I was lunching at a fashionable seaside resort with Polly atmy side, and An kept bringing us melons, which grew so monstrous everytime a knife was put into them that poor Polly screamed aloud. I dreamtI was afloat on a raft, hotly pursued by my tailor, whose bare andshiny head--may Providence be good to him!--was garlanded with roses,while in his fist was a bunch of unpaid bills, the which he wavedaloft, shouting to me to stop. And thus we danced down an ink
-blackriver until he had chiveyed me into the vast hall of the Admiralty,where a fearsome Secretary, whose golden teeth rattled and dropped fromhis head with mingled cold and anger, towered above me as he asked whyI was absent from my ship without leave. And I was just mumbling outexcuses while stooping to pick up his golden dentistry, when some onestirring in the hut aroused me. I started up on my elbow and lookedaround. Where was I? For a minute all was confused and dark. Theheavy mound-like forms of sleeping men, the dim outlines of theirhunting gear upon the walls, the pale sea beyond, half seen through theopen doorway, just turning livid in the morning light; and then as myeyes grew more accustomed to the obscurity, and my stupid sensesreturned, I recognised the surroundings, and, with a sigh, rememberedyesterday's adventures.

  However, it would never do to mope; so, rising silently and picking away through human lumber on the floor, I went out and down to thewater's edge, where "shore-going" clothes, as we sailors call them,were slipped off, and I plunged into the sea for a swim.

  It was a welcome dip, for I needed the plunge physically andintellectually, but it came to an abrupt conclusion. The Thither folkapparently had never heard of this form of enjoyment; to them waterstood for drinking or drowning, nothing else, and since one could notdrink the sea, to be in it meant, even for a ghost, to drown.Consequently, when the word went round the just rousing villages that"He-on-foot-from-afar" was adrift in the waves, rescue parties werehurriedly organised, a boat launched, and, in spite of all my kickingand shouting (which they took to be evidence of my semi-moribundcondition), I was speedily hauled out by hairy and powerful hands,pungent herbs burnt under my nose, and my heels held high in the air inorder that the water might run out of me. It was only with the greatestdifficulty those rough but honest fellows were eventually got tobelieve me saved.

  The breakfast I made of grilled deer flesh and a fish not unlikesalmon, however, convinced them of my recovery, and afterward we partedvery good friends; for there was something in the nature of thoserugged barbarians just coming into the dawn of civilisation that won myliking far more than the effete gentleness of others across the water.

  When the time of parting came they showed no curiosity as to my errand,but just gave me some food in a fish-skin bag, thrust a heavystone-headed axe into my hand, "in case I had to talk to a thief on theroad," and pointed out on the southern horizon a forked mountain, underwhich, they said, was the harbour and high-road to King Ar-hap'scapital. Then they hugged me to their hairy chests in turn, and let mego with a traveller's blessing.

  There I was again, all alone, none but my thoughts for companions, andnothing but youth to excuse the folly in thus venturing on a recklessquest!

  However, who can gainsay that same youth? The very spice of danger mademy steps light and the way pleasant. For a mile or two the track wasplain enough, through an undulating country gradually becoming more andmore wooded with vegetation, changing rapidly from Alpine tosub-tropical. The air also grew warmer, and when the dividing ridge wascrossed and a thick forest entered, the snows and dreadful region ofDeadmen's Ice already seemed leagues and leagues away.

  Probably a warm ocean current played on one side of the peninsula,while a cold one swept the other, but for scientific aspects of thequestion I cared little in my joy at being anew in a soft climate,amongst beautiful flowers and vivid life again. Mile after mileslipped quickly by as I strode along, whistling "Yankee Doodle" tomyself and revelling in the change. At one place I met a rough-lookingMartian woodcutter, who wanted to fight until he found I also wantedto, when he turned very civil and as talkative as a solitary liveroften is when his tongue gets started. He particularly desired to knowwhere I came from, and, as in the case with so many other of hiscountrymen, took it for granted, and with very little surprise, that Iwas either a spirit or an inhabitant of another world. With this ideain his mind he gave me a curious piece of information, which,unfortunately, I was never able to follow up.

  "I don't think you can be a spirit," he said, critically eyeing myclothes, which were now getting ragged and dirty beyond description."They are finer-looking things than you, and I doubt if their toes comethrough their shoes like yours do. If you are a wanderer from thestars, you are not like that other one we have down yonder," and hepointed to the southward.

  "What!" I asked, pricking my ears in amazement, "another wanderer fromthe outside world! Does he come from the earth?"--using the word Anhad given me to signify my own planet.

  "No, not from there; from the one that burns blue in evening betweensun and sea. Men say he worked as a stoker or something of the kindwhen he was at home, and got trifling with a volcano tap, and waslapped in hot mud, and blown out here. My brother saw him about a weekago."

  "Now what you say is down right curious. I thought I had a monopoly ofthat kind of business in this sphere of yours. I should betremendously interested to see him."

  "No you wouldn't," briefly answered the woodman. "He is the stupidestfool ever blown from one world to another--more stupid to look at thanyou are. He is a gaseous, wavey thing, so glum you can't get two wordsa week out of him, and so unstable that you never know when you arewith him and when the breeze has drifted him somewhere else."

  I could but laugh and insist, with all respect to the woodcutter, suchan individual were worth the knowing however unstable his constitution;at which the man shrugged his shoulders and changed the conversation,as though the subject were too trivial to be worth much consideration.

  This individual gave me the pleasure of his company until nearlysundown, and finding I took an interest in things of the forest,pointed out more curious plants and trees than I have space to mention.Two of them, however, cling to my memory very tenaciously. One was avery Circe amongst plants, the horrible charm of which can never beforgotten. We were going down a glade when a most ravishing odour fellupon my nostrils. It was heavenly sweet yet withal there lurked anincredibly, unexpressibly tempting spice of wickedness in it. Themoment he caught that ambrosial invitation in the air my woodman spitfiercely on the ground, and taking a plug of wool from his pouchstuffed his nostrils up. Then he beckoned me to come away. But theodour was too ravishing, I was bound to see whence it arose, andfinding me deaf to all warnings, the man reluctantly turned aside downthe enticing trail. We pushed about a hundred yards through bushesuntil we came to a little arena full in sunshine where there wereneither birds nor butterflies, but a death-like hush upon everything.Indeed, the place seemed shunned in spite of the sodden loveliness ofthat scent which monopolised and mounted to my brain until I wasbeginning to be drunk with the sheer pleasure of it. And there in thecentre of the space stood a plant not unlike a tree fern, about sixfeet high, and crowned by one huge and lovely blossom. It resembled avast passion-flower of incredible splendour. There were four petals,with points resting on the ground, each six feet long, ivory-whiteinside, exquisitely patterned with glittering silver veins. From thebase of these rose upright a gauzy veil of azure filaments of the samelength as the petals, wirelike, yet soft as silk, and inside them againrested a chalice of silver holding a tiny pool of limpid golden honey.Circe, indeed! It was from that cup the scent arose, and my throatgrew dry with longing as I looked at it; my eyes strained through theblue tendrils towards that liquid nectar, and my giddy senses felt theymust drink or die! I glanced at the woodman with a smile of drunkenhappiness, then turned tottering legs towards the blossom. A stride upthe smooth causeway of white petals, a push through the azure haze, andthe wine of the wood enchantress would be mine--molten amber wine,hotter and more golden than the sunshine; the fire of it was in myveins, the recklessness of intoxication was on me, life itself asnothing compared to a sip from that chalice, my lips must taste or mysoul would die, and with trembling hand and strained face I began toclimb.

  But the woodman pulled me back.

  "Back, stranger!" he cried. "Those who drink there never live again."

  "Blessed oblivion! If I had a thousand lives the price were still toocheap," and on
ce more I essayed to scramble up.

  But the man was a big fellow, and with nostrils plugged, and eyesaverted from the deadly glamour, he seized me by the collar and threwme back. Three times I tried, three times he hurled me down, far toofaint and absorbed to heed the personal violence. Then standingbetween us, "Look," he said, "look and learn."

  He had killed a small ape that morning, meaning later on to take itsfur for clothing, and this he now unslung from his shoulder, andhitching the handle of his axe into the loose skin at the back of itsneck, cautiously advanced to the witch plant, and gently hoisted themonkey over the blue palings. The moment its limp, dead feet touchedthe golden pool a shudder passed through the plant, and a birdsomewhere far back in the forest cried out in horror. Quick asthought, a spasm of life shot up the tendrils, and like tongues of blueflame they closed round the victim, lapping his miserable body in theirembrace. At the same time the petals began to rise, showing as theydid so hard, leathery, unlovely outer rinds, and by the time thewoodman was back at my side the flower was closed.

  Closer and closer wound the blue tendrils; tighter and tighter closedthe cruel petals with their iron grip, until at last we heard the ape'sbones crackling like dry firewood; then next his head burst, his brainscame oozing through the crevices, while blood and entrails followedthem through every cranny, and the horrible mess with the overflow ofthe chalice curled down the stem in a hundred steaming rills, till atlast the petals locked with an ugly snap upon their ghastly meal, and Iturned away from the sight in dread and loathing.

  That was plant Number One.

  Plant Number Two was of milder disposition, and won a hearty laugh formy friendly woodman. In fact, being of a childlike nature, his successas a professor of botany quite pleased him, and not content withanswering my questions, he set to work to find new vegetable surprises,greatly enjoying my wonder and the sense of importance it gave him.

  In this way we came, later on in the day, to a spot where herbage wassomewhat scantier, the grass coarse, and soil shallow. Here I espied atree of small size, apparently withered, but still bearing a fewparched leaves on its uppermost twigs.

  "Now that," quoth the professor, "is a highly curious tree, and Ishould like you to make a close acquaintance with it. It grows from aseed in the course of a single springtime, perishes in the summer; buta few specimens stand throughout the winter, provided the situation issheltered, as this one has done. If you will kindly go down and shakeits stem I believe you will learn something interesting."

  So, very willing to humour him, away I went to the tree, which wasperfect in every detail, but apparently very dry, clasped it with bothhands, and, pulling myself together, gave it a mighty shake. Theresult was instantaneous. The whole thing was nothing but a skin ofdust, whence all fibre and sap had gone, and at my touch it dissolvedinto a cloud of powder, a huge puff of white dust which descended on meas though a couple of flour-bags had been inverted over my head; and asI staggered out sneezing and blinking, white as a miller from face tofoot, the Martian burst into a wild, joyous peal of laughter that madethe woods ring again. His merriment was so sincere I had not the heartto be angry, and soon laughed as loud as he did; though, for thefuture, I took his botanical essays with a little more caution.