|
about midnight, and again the night after; and so for ten nights, a ` `
flame each night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one on ` `
earth has attempted to explain. It may be the gases of the firing ` `
caused the Martians inconvenience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, ` `
visible through a powerful telescope on earth as little grey, ` `
fluctuating patches, spread through the clearness of the planet's ` `
atmosphere and obscured its more familiar features. ` `
` `
Even the daily papers woke up to the disturbances at last, and ` `
popular notes appeared here, there, and everywhere concerning the ` `
volcanoes upon Mars. The seriocomic periodical _Punch_, I remember, ` `
made a happy use of it in the political cartoon. And, all ` `
unsuspected, those missiles the Martians had fired at us drew ` `
earthward, rushing now at a pace of many miles a second through the ` `
empty gulf of space, hour by hour and day by day, nearer and nearer. ` `
It seems to me now almost incredibly wonderful that, with that swift ` `
fate hanging over us, men could go about their petty concerns as they ` `
did. I remember how jubilant Markham was at securing a new photograph ` `
of the planet for the illustrated paper he edited in those days. ` `
People in these latter times scarcely realise the abundance and ` `
enterprise of our nineteenth-century papers. For my own part, I was ` `
much occupied in learning to ride the bicycle, and busy upon a series ` `
of papers discussing the probable developments of moral ideas as ` `
civilisation progressed. ` `
` `
One night (the first missile then could scarcely have been ` `
10,000,000 miles away) I went for a walk with my wife. It was ` `
starlight and I explained the Signs of the Zodiac to her, and pointed ` `
out Mars, a bright dot of light creeping zenithward, towards which so ` `
many telescopes were pointed. It was a warm night. Coming home, a ` `
party of excursionists from Chertsey or Isleworth passed us singing ` `
and playing music. There were lights in the upper windows of the ` `
houses as the people went to bed. From the railway station in the ` `
distance came the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling, ` `
softened almost into melody by the distance. My wife pointed out to ` `
me the brightness of the red, green, and yellow signal lights hanging ` `
in a framework against the sky. It seemed so safe and tranquil. ` `
` `
` `
` `
CHAPTER TWO ` `
` `
THE FALLING STAR ` `
` `
` `
Then came the night of the first falling star. It was seen early ` `
in the morning, rushing over Winchester eastward, a line of flame high ` `
in the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and taken it for an ` `
ordinary falling star. Albin described it as leaving a greenish ` `
streak behind it that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our greatest ` `
authority on meteorites, stated that the height of its first ` `
appearance was about ninety or one hundred miles. It seemed to him ` `
that it fell to earth about one hundred miles east of him. ` `
` `
I was at home at that hour and writing in my study; and although my ` `
French windows face towards Ottershaw and the blind was up (for I ` `
loved in those days to look up at the night sky), I saw nothing of it. ` `
Yet this strangest of all things that ever came to earth from outer ` `
space must have fallen while I was sitting there, visible to me had I ` `
only looked up as it passed. Some of those who saw its flight say it ` `
travelled with a hissing sound. I myself heard nothing of that. Many ` `
people in Berkshire, Surrey, and Middlesex must have seen the fall of ` `
it, and, at most, have thought that another meteorite had descended. ` `
No one seems to have troubled to look for the fallen mass that night. ` `
` `
But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who had seen the ` `
shooting star and who was persuaded that a meteorite lay somewhere on ` `
the common between Horsell, Ottershaw, and Woking, rose early with the ` `
idea of finding it. Find it he did, soon after dawn, and not far from ` `
the sand pits. An enormous hole had been made by the impact of the ` `
projectile, and the sand and gravel had been flung violently in every ` `
direction over the heath, forming heaps visible a mile and a half ` `
` `
away. The heather was on fire eastward, and a thin blue smoke rose ` `
against the dawn. ` `
` `
The Thing itself lay almost entirely buried in sand, amidst the ` `
scattered splinters of a fir tree it had shivered to fragments in its ` `
descent. The uncovered part had the appearance of a huge cylinder, ` `
caked over and its outline softened by a thick scaly dun-coloured ` `
incrustation. It had a diameter of about thirty yards. He approached ` `
the mass, surprised at the size and more so at the shape, since most ` `
meteorites are rounded more or less completely. It was, however, ` `
still so hot from its flight through the air as to forbid his near ` `
approach. A stirring noise within its cylinder he ascribed to the ` `
unequal cooling of its surface; for at that time it had not occurred ` `
to him that it might be hollow. ` `
` `
He remained standing at the edge of the pit that the Thing had made ` `
for itself, staring at its strange appearance, astonished chiefly at ` `
its unusual shape and colour, and dimly perceiving even then some ` `
evidence of design in its arrival. The early morning was wonderfully ` `
still, and the sun, just clearing the pine trees towards Weybridge, ` `
was already warm. He did not remember hearing any birds that morning, ` `
there was certainly no breeze stirring, and the only sounds were the ` `
faint movements from within the cindery cylinder. He was all alone on ` `
the common. ` `
` `
Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some of the grey ` `
clinker, the ashy incrustation that covered the meteorite, was falling ` `
off the circular edge of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and ` `
raining down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly came off and fell ` `
with a sharp noise that brought his heart into his mouth. ` `
` `
For a minute he scarcely realised what this meant, and, although ` `
the heat was excessive, he clambered down into the pit close to the ` `
bulk to see the Thing more clearly. He fancied even then that the ` `
cooling of the body might account for this, but what disturbed that ` `
idea was the fact that the ash was falling only from the end of the ` `
cylinder. ` `
` `
And then he perceived that, very slowly, the circular top of the ` `
cylinder was rotating on its body. It was such a gradual movement ` `
that he discovered it only through noticing that a black mark that had ` `
been near him five minutes ago was now at the other side of the ` `
circumference. Even then he scarcely understood what this indicated, ` `
until he heard a muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk ` `
forward an inch or so. Then the thing came upon him in a flash. The ` `
cylinder was artificial--hollow--with an end that screwed out! ` `
Something within the cylinder was unscrewing the top! ` `
` `
"Good heavens!" said Ogilvy. "There's a man in it--men in it! Half ` `
roasted to death! Trying to escape!" ` `
` `
At once, with a quick mental leap, he linked the Thing with the ` `
flash upon Mars. ` `
` `
The thought of the confined creature was so dreadful to him that he ` `
forgot the heat and went forward to the cylinder to help turn. But ` `
luckily the dull radiation arrested him before he could burn his hands ` `
on the still-glowing metal. At that he stood irresolute for a moment, ` `
then turned, scrambled out of the pit, and set off running wildly into ` `
Woking. The time then must have been somewhere about six o'clock. ` `
He met a waggoner and tried to make him understand, but the tale he ` `
told and his appearance were so wild--his hat had fallen off in the ` `
pit--that the man simply drove on. He was equally unsuccessful with the ` `
potman who was just unlocking the doors of the public-house by Horsell ` `
Bridge. The fellow thought he was a lunatic at large and made an ` `
unsuccessful attempt to shut him into the taproom. That sobered him a ` `
little; and when he saw Henderson, the London journalist, in his ` `
garden, he called over the palings and made himself understood. ` `
` `
"Henderson," he called, "you saw that shooting star last night?" ` `
` `
"Well?" said Henderson. ` `
` `
"It's out on Horsell Common now." ` `
` `
"Good Lord!" said Henderson. "Fallen meteorite! That's good." ` `
` `
"But it's something more than a meteorite. It's a cylinder--an ` `
artificial cylinder, man! And there's something inside." ` `
` `
Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand. ` `
` `
"What's that?" he said. He was deaf in one ear. ` `
` `
Ogilvy told him all that he had seen. Henderson was a minute or so ` `
taking it in. Then he dropped his spade, snatched up his jacket, and ` `
came out into the road. The two men hurried back at once to the ` `
common, and found the cylinder still lying in the same position. But ` `
now the sounds inside had ceased, and a thin circle of bright metal ` `
showed between the top and the body of the cylinder. Air was either ` `
entering or escaping at the rim with a thin, sizzling sound. ` `
` `
They listened, rapped on the scaly burnt metal with a stick, and, ` `
meeting with no response, they both concluded the man or men inside ` `
must be insensible or dead. ` `
` `
Of course the two were quite unable to do anything. They shouted ` `
consolation and promises, and went off back to the town again to get ` `
help. One can imagine them, covered with sand, excited and ` `
disordered, running up the little street in the bright sunlight just ` `
as the shop folks were taking down their shutters and people were ` `
opening their bedroom windows. Henderson went into the railway ` `
station at once, in order to telegraph the news to London. The ` `
newspaper articles had prepared men's minds for the reception of the ` `
idea. ` `
` `
By eight o'clock a number of boys and unemployed men had already ` `
started for the common to see the "dead men from Mars." That was the ` `
form the story took. I heard of it first from my newspaper boy about ` `
a quarter to nine when I went out to get my _Daily Chronicle_. I was ` `
naturally startled, and lost no time in going out and across the ` `
Ottershaw bridge to the sand pits. ` `
` `
` `
` `
CHAPTER THREE ` `
` `
ON HORSELL COMMON ` `
` `
` `
I found a little crowd of perhaps twenty people surrounding the ` `
huge hole in which the cylinder lay. I have already described the ` `
appearance of that colossal bulk, embedded in the ground. The turf ` `
and gravel about it seemed charred as if by a sudden explosion. No ` `
doubt its impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy ` `
were not there. I think they perceived that nothing was to be done ` `
for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson's house. ` `
` `
|