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Authors: Edgar Rice Burroughs
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fast to
the craft and towed her far out into the valley in a southwesterly
direction. A few of them then boarded her and were busily engaged
in what appeared, from my distant position, as the emptying of the
contents of various carboys upon the dead bodies of the sailors and
over the decks and works of the vessel.
This operation concluded, they hastily clambered over her sides,
sliding down the guy ropes to the ground. The last warrior to leave
the deck turned and threw something back upon the vessel, waiting an
instant to note the outcome of his act. As a faint spurt of flame
rose from the point where the missile struck he swung over the side
and was quickly upon the ground. Scarcely had he alighted than
the guy ropes were simultaneous released, and the great warship,
lightened by the removal of the loot, soared majestically into
the air, her decks and upper works a mass of roaring flames.
Slowly she drifted to the southeast, rising higher and higher as the
flames ate away her wooden parts and diminished the weight upon her.
Ascending to the roof of the building I watched her for hours, until
finally she was lost in the dim vistas of the distance. The sight
was awe-inspiring in the extreme as one contemplated this mighty
floating funeral pyre, drifting unguided and unmanned through
the lonely wastes of the Martian heavens; a derelict of death
and destruction, typifying the life story of these strange and
ferocious creatures into whose unfriendly hands fate had carried it.
Much depressed, and, to me, unaccountably so, I slowly descended to
the street. The scene I had witnessed seemed to mark the defeat
and annihilation of the forces of a kindred people, rather than
the routing by our green warriors of a horde of similar, though
unfriendly, creatures. I could not fathom the seeming
hallucination, nor could I free myself from it; but somewhere in
the innermost recesses of my soul I felt a strange yearning toward
these unknown foemen, and a mighty hope surged through me that the
fleet would return and demand a reckoning from the green warriors
who had so ruthlessly and wantonly attacked it.
Close at my heel, in his now accustomed place, followed Woola, the
hound, and as I emerged upon the street Sola rushed up to me as
though I had been the object of some search on her part. The
cavalcade was returning to the plaza, the homeward march having been
given up for that day; nor, in fact, was it recommenced for more
than a week, owing to the fear of a return attack by the air craft.
Lorquas Ptomel was too astute an old warrior to be caught upon the
open plains with a caravan of chariots and children, and so we
remained at the deserted city until the danger seemed passed.
As Sola and I entered the plaza a sight met my eyes which filled my
whole being with a great surge of mingled hope, fear, exultation,
and depression, and yet most dominant was a subtle sense of relief
and happiness; for just as we neared the throng of Martians I caught
a glimpse of the prisoner from the battle craft who was being
roughly dragged into a nearby building by a couple of green Martian
females.
And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish
figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past
life. She did not see me at first, but just as she was disappearing
through the portal of the building which was to be her prison she
turned, and her eyes met mine. Her face was oval and beautiful in
the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite,
her eyes large and lustrous and her head surmounted by a mass of
coal black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange yet becoming
coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against
which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully
molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect.
She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who
accompanied her; indeed, save for her highly wrought ornaments she
was entirely naked, nor could any
the craft and towed her far out into the valley in a southwesterly
direction. A few of them then boarded her and were busily engaged
in what appeared, from my distant position, as the emptying of the
contents of various carboys upon the dead bodies of the sailors and
over the decks and works of the vessel.
This operation concluded, they hastily clambered over her sides,
sliding down the guy ropes to the ground. The last warrior to leave
the deck turned and threw something back upon the vessel, waiting an
instant to note the outcome of his act. As a faint spurt of flame
rose from the point where the missile struck he swung over the side
and was quickly upon the ground. Scarcely had he alighted than
the guy ropes were simultaneous released, and the great warship,
lightened by the removal of the loot, soared majestically into
the air, her decks and upper works a mass of roaring flames.
Slowly she drifted to the southeast, rising higher and higher as the
flames ate away her wooden parts and diminished the weight upon her.
Ascending to the roof of the building I watched her for hours, until
finally she was lost in the dim vistas of the distance. The sight
was awe-inspiring in the extreme as one contemplated this mighty
floating funeral pyre, drifting unguided and unmanned through
the lonely wastes of the Martian heavens; a derelict of death
and destruction, typifying the life story of these strange and
ferocious creatures into whose unfriendly hands fate had carried it.
Much depressed, and, to me, unaccountably so, I slowly descended to
the street. The scene I had witnessed seemed to mark the defeat
and annihilation of the forces of a kindred people, rather than
the routing by our green warriors of a horde of similar, though
unfriendly, creatures. I could not fathom the seeming
hallucination, nor could I free myself from it; but somewhere in
the innermost recesses of my soul I felt a strange yearning toward
these unknown foemen, and a mighty hope surged through me that the
fleet would return and demand a reckoning from the green warriors
who had so ruthlessly and wantonly attacked it.
Close at my heel, in his now accustomed place, followed Woola, the
hound, and as I emerged upon the street Sola rushed up to me as
though I had been the object of some search on her part. The
cavalcade was returning to the plaza, the homeward march having been
given up for that day; nor, in fact, was it recommenced for more
than a week, owing to the fear of a return attack by the air craft.
Lorquas Ptomel was too astute an old warrior to be caught upon the
open plains with a caravan of chariots and children, and so we
remained at the deserted city until the danger seemed passed.
As Sola and I entered the plaza a sight met my eyes which filled my
whole being with a great surge of mingled hope, fear, exultation,
and depression, and yet most dominant was a subtle sense of relief
and happiness; for just as we neared the throng of Martians I caught
a glimpse of the prisoner from the battle craft who was being
roughly dragged into a nearby building by a couple of green Martian
females.
And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish
figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past
life. She did not see me at first, but just as she was disappearing
through the portal of the building which was to be her prison she
turned, and her eyes met mine. Her face was oval and beautiful in
the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite,
her eyes large and lustrous and her head surmounted by a mass of
coal black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange yet becoming
coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against
which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully
molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect.
She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who
accompanied her; indeed, save for her highly wrought ornaments she
was entirely naked, nor could any
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